it’s complicated.”
“It’s not. Transfer consists of inserting a needle into your body, a tube connected to the bag your dosage comes in, and waiting for it to drain. The drawback is it’s a two-hour process.”
“When do I need to do this?”
“Every three months.”
“I have some questions.”
Big removed his hands from the keyboard and it dimmed to match the rest of the desk. “What?” He leaned back, adjusting her in his arms.
He’d mentioned plasma, which made her think of blood. Which led her to what was on her mind. “Will I have periods?”
His arms tightened around her. “No.” He hesitated. “And we can’t have children.”
She let that information sink in, not sure how she felt about it. Becoming a mother had been the best gift of her life. And when her sons had grown, she’d been more than ready to become a grandmother. To spoil her grandkids, then hand them back to their parents. The idea of raising babies full time hadn’t appealed to her anymore, before her death. She’d been too old for that.
Big kissed her cheek, drawing her attention. She turned her head, peering into his eyes. “I wish I could tell you otherwise. To have a child would be fantastic. I think I’d love becoming a father. Clones weren’t made to procreate, though. We’re sterile.”
She nodded.
“Are you disappointed?”
“I hadn’t gotten that far ahead in my thinking process until you said it. It’s probably for the best. I can’t see raising kids on a mining station inside a moon crater. We don’t even have a doctor here—unless you’re about to tell me there’s a robot for that, too.”
“They actually took the medical pod off this station with them when they left. Those aren’t cheap to replace, with their operation rooms and specialized equipment.” He shrugged. “I would have liked the option of having children but it wasn’t meant to be.”
“I had two sons. I’m going to be grateful for that. How long do clones live, anyway?”
He hesitated again. “It’s not known for certain. As long as we take our plasma, it’s been estimated that we could live for hundreds of years.”
That stunned her.
“It’s why I’ve been stockpiling and freezing a large supply of plasma crates. Just in case.”
“Of what?”
He glanced around. “This station was once a hive of activity. I spent far too much time alone here, thinking. What if JDJ Cryo Corp ever goes out of business? Maybe one day the clones will revolt against their owners. I want to stockpile a vast supply of plasma for this station in case that ever happens. There would be no more shipments to steal.”
She tilted her head, resting it against his shoulder. “That’s really a downer.”
He smiled. “Downer?”
“Sorry. It means that it’s depressing. But it’s also smart of you to plan for the future.”
“I try to think ahead.”
“What other plans do you think about?”
“I want my friends to return to the station. All five of them. When we first plotted to escape from Clone World, we’d hoped to save others. That was our biggest plan. Find a safe home and go back to rescue the unhappy clones. We found this place, which would support a lot of us, but it’s too dangerous to go back. Rod flew into that solar system a few months after we escaped, to check it out, and they had increased their flight patrols. We’d never stand a chance of getting more off the surface. They’d blow us up even before we had a chance to land. Now I spend my time repairing parts of this station to keep it safe for us.”
She nodded against him, understanding what he was saying.
His muscles tensed and he stood, forcing her to do the same. “Mostly though, my plans are to take you to our home and feed you lunch. Day one of training went very well.” He smiled and took her hand. “Come on, Gemma. Time to eat.”
She followed him out of the control room. He’d added her to the main computer to allow it to take her commands. When they reached their room, she pressed her hand to the scanner. The light ran across her palm and the doors opened.
Their creepy silver cook came out of her closet and stopped at the island counter, folding her hands there. “What may I make for you?”
It wouldn’t be so hard to get used to the android, Gemma decided, when she wasn’t ever going to have to cook again. Besides that, she’d never seen Magna leave the kitchen area. Maybe