"Serrano Legacy - 03 - Winning Colors" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moon Elizabeth)

"I didn't." She had assumed, growing up in her family, knowing she was a Registered Embryo, that she would eventually marry and have children, most if not all of them also Registered Embryos. Being an R.E. determined your destiny; only the freelofs could choose. But on Sirkin's face was an angry look that didn't want to hear about complications. She had to try, anyway. "You know about genetic engineeringЧ"
"Of course. What does that have to do withЧoh."
"I am a Registered Embryo, Brig. You knew that before Meharry said it; I told you early on. She's rightЧat least, I thought it meant I wouldn't love women, just becauseа.а.а. because it's so expensive."
"Expensive?" Sirkin's brow wrinkled. "Loving women?"
"No, being an R.E. They're tough enough to produce with well-mapped setsЧand we're fourth-generation R.E., so all our stuff's on file except any new mutations. Because of that, we're all set to be heterosЧso the work that goes into each of us will be available for the next generation."
"There's always A.I." Sirkin said. Brun realized she didn't know how Registered Embryos were made. Most people didn't.
"A.I. is already part of it," she said. "Harvesting of ova and sperm, in vitro fertilization and then splicingа.а.а."
"Then what does it matter what orientation the Registered Embryos have?" Sirkin asked. "If the whole reproductive bit is handled outside?"
"Prudence," Brun said. "In theа.а.а." she hesitated, trying to think of a polite way to say "important families." There wasn't, so she plunged on to the second level of reasoning she'd been told about years before. "If things go wrongЧif something happened to the Registered Embryo program, the families would still need children. We'd have to provide them theа.а.а. erа.а.а. old way. And they'd want us to want to. At least, not to wantnot to."
"Oh." Sirkin reflected on that a moment. "So it's to protect the family against the loss of childbearing capacity if the medical infrastructure fails?"
"Right." Brun frowned. "My mother said that even then the orientation of women wasn't criticalЧin some cultures, women can be forced to bear children no matter what their wishesЧbut our culture thought that was unethical. Although it seems odd, that they would consider it ethical to determine our orientation so that it wouldn't be overruled later. But formal bioethics always seemed full of loopholes to me, anyway."
"I still think you have to know what you love, though."
Brun threw up her hands. "I lovelots of things, Brig. I'm that sortа.а.а. I'm sorry, but that's the truth. That's what got me into that fast crowd at school, really. I want to try everything, do everything, be everything. Logically, that's not possible, butа.а.а. it would be suchfun ."
"And fun is what matters?"
Brun winced. "Not all that matters, no. ButЧI'm trying to be honest with you, Brig, so please try to understand. I don't think it's being rich that did this. I think some people are like me, rich or not, R.E. or not. When we were trying to think how to get Lady Cecelia out of that horrible place,I'm the one who thought of the hot air balloon. And one reason it worked was that it was so utterly ridiculous. Impossible. Crazy. I loved that about itЧthe very outrageousness of it. New thingsЧdifferent thingsЧthey draw me. I asked DadЧI thought maybe the R.E. process had fouled up with meЧand he said they'd asked for an extra dollop of some set of multi-named neurochemicals that produce my sort of person. They'd opted for conservative intelligence with the older ones; he said they wanted a little sparkle in me."
"I think we are too different," Sirkin said. "Maybe it's your genes, and maybe it's your background, but we aren't enough alikeЧ"
"Not for a permanent sexual relationship, no. But I don't see why we can't enjoy each other now and be lifetime friends. I like you; I admire you. Doesn't that help?"
"Yes. I just wishЧ"
"You need a long-term lover. I understand that. And if you want Meharry instead of meЧ"
"No!"
"I thought you liked her. She's angry enough at me that I thought you two had some kind ofЧ"
"We don't have any kind of anything," Sirkin said. "I mean, I like her, as a sort of big sister, but like any big sister she tries to run my life too much. And she's hard."
"That's being ex-military, probably."
"I still don't like it. She makes me feel like a fluffy helpless kitten, and I don't like feeling helpless."
"But fluffy?" Brun cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Wellа.а.а. I have to admit I've enjoyed shopping with you. I was brought up to be practical, of course. But it'sЧit's kind of fun to dress up."
"Soа.а.а. even if you think fun isn't enoughЧeven if you think I'm just a spoiled rich brat with more money than senseЧyou could have fun sometimes."
"With you, you mean," Sirkin said. It wasn't fair, the way Brun could coil an argument into a trap. "You think I should just relax and enjoy you, and forget the future?"
"Forget it? Never. But right now you can't go hunting a better partner; I understand that you'll want to, when you leave this ship. If you choose, we can be friendsЧI'd really like that, because I like you, and the friendship can last beyond this voyage. Lovers? Again, that's up to you. I don't want to hurt you, though I may have alreadyЧ" Brun frowned, thinking about it. "I'd like to help you, if I knew how."
Sirkin looked at her, at the body she now realized had been carefully engineered for health and beauty and even sexuality, at the mind behind the eyes which had also been engineered for intelligence and whatever the genetic specialists meant by "sparkle." She couldn't help admiring Brun; she suspected that that, too, had been built in, as ineradicable as the choice of height and coloring. In one way it seemed weak to admire, to love, someone engineered to be admirable and lovableЧit gave her the queasy feeling that she was being manipulated by the genetic engineers. Yet Brun had been the material of their manipulations; she was even less free than Sirkin. She couldn't help being who she was, any more than Sirkin could help being attracted.
"I would like to be friends," she said, after a long pause. "I don't know if it will work, in the long run, butЧI do like you, and it's fun having another young woman to talk to. But not more than friends. I could fall for you, Brun, and if there's no chance for permanence, I don't want to risk it."
"Fair enough," Brun said. A faint flush reddened her face, then faded. "NowЧif we can go back a bitЧI'd like some help with the navigation sets our beloved captain sent down for me."
"You're going to end up better at navigation than I am," Sirkin grumbled.
"Not so. I'll pass the test, that's all. Didn't you ever know anyone who could pass tests but flunked real life?" The tension of the past conversation shattered, and Sirkin found herself laughing, not quite in control, but content to be so.
а
Chapter Four
Heris could not define the concern she felt. Cecelia looked healthy, strong, and sane; she spent several hours a day on her riding simulator, but that was normal for Cecelia. Now she didn't need the massage lounger after each ride; she showed no stiffness or soreness. Her appetite was good, her spirits highЧso Heris told herself. What was wrong? Was it her own imagination, perhaps her own envy of someone with so much privilege getting even more?
At dinner that very night, Cecelia brought that up herself. "It's indecent, in a wayа.а.а. to be so lucky. I try to tell myself it's fair payment for the hell Lorenza put me through, but that's a lie. I've had such good luck nearly all my life, and for the year I lost have been given back fortyЧnot a bad bargain."
Heris wondered how much she believed that. "Would you go through it again for another forty years?"
"No." It came out reflexively; her face stiffened. "It's not the same; it couldn't be. I didn't know how longЧor that it would end this wayЧ" Her breath came short.
"I'm sorry," Heris said. "That was a tactless question; of course no one would choose that year. I guess I thought you were making too light of itЧ"
"Too light! Noа.а.а. I don't think so. I'm trying not to let it rule the rest of my lifeа.а.а. put it behind me." The tension in her shoulders suggested that it still weighed on her.
"Does it bother you that you're not competing?" Heris asked.
"Of course not!" It came almost too quickly, with a flush and fade of color on Cecelia's cheeks. "It's been thirty years; it would be ridiculous."
"StillЧ"
"No. I just want to see it. I mightЧsomedayЧthink about going back."
а
Zenebra's orbital station carried an astonishing amount of traffic for an agricultural world. Heris had had to wait two days for a docking assignment, and had eased the yacht in among many others. On the station itself she found the kind of expensive shops she remembered from Rockhouse Major. Cecelia had called ahead, purchasing tickets for the Senior Trials, all venues. Heris saw the prices posted in the orbital station's brochure, and winced. She hadn't realized it could cost as much to watch other people ride horses as to own them. Or so she assumed. She also hadn't realized that Cecelia expected her to come alongЧthat she had bought two sets of tickets. Heris didn't quite groan.
On the shuttle ride down to the planet she heard nothing but horse talk. At least Cecelia's coaching had given her the vocabulary to understand most of what she heard. Stifles and hocks, quarter-cracks and navicular, stocking up and cooling down, all made sense nowа.а.а. what it didn't make, she thought to herself, was interesting conversation. The talk about particular riders and trainers made no sense at allЧshe didn't know why, for instance, "riding with Falkhome" was said with such scorn, or "another Maalinson" seemed to be a compliment. But any notion that Cecelia had no equal in fixation on horses quickly disappearedЧthe universe, or at least that shuttle, was full of people with equally one-track minds.
Zenebra's shuttle port had a huge bronze-and-stained-glass sculpture of a horse taking a fence in its lobby. The groundcars had horse motifs painted on the side. Along the road to the hotel, a grassy strip served as an exercise area for the horsesЧall sizes, all colorsЧthat pranced along it. The hotel itself, jammed with enthusiasts, buzzed with the same colorful slang. Heris began to feel that she'd fallen into very strange company indeedЧthese people were far more intense than the foxhunters at Bunny's.