This guy. "Jesus, I know. I can't forget. You're hammering it into my head every five fucking seconds." I hop up from the bed. "As if you're some great prize."
His startled laughter barks out across the room. "No, Ruth, I can assure you, I am absolutely not."
39
STRAIK
Even though I know it's a terrible idea and it will come back to haunt me, Ruth will stay in my rooms. While I don't think they will truly resent the human if she takes a room for herself, I also don't want to encourage them to spend more time with her, especially if they're thinking of acquiring humans of their own. Better to keep her in my quarters, out of sight, out of mind.
So I put in a request for extra blankets and bedding to be delivered to my quarters by the laundry bot. I head back to the storage rooms and check on the status of her clothing being printed, but it's not done yet, which is frustrating. How is it that printing a dress for one female takes twice as long as a standard crew uniform? It won't be ready until morning, though, so she'll just have to borrow another one of my tunics tonight. For some reason, the thought of her staying in Dopekh's clothing bothers me more with every passing moment.
Sure, my clothes are falling apart, but I'd still rather have her in them than in his. I also start sweating a little at the thought of her wearing my tunic and it falling apart on her. I've seen her naked before but now it's different.
Now, we've kissed.
I turn back toward my quarters, where I've left Ruth momentarily. I catch up with the laundry bot as it putters toward my doors and they open up. The guard posted just outside—Erzah—watches me with great interest, his eyes shining. "Are you keeping her?" he blurts out, no doubt imagining having a human of his own soon enough. "Does this mean—"
"I am not keeping anyone," I snap, moving forward to close the doors manually, since Erzah is leaning in, and his head is keeping the door sensors from shutting. I glare at Erzah as the doors finally close, and all is quiet once more.
Ruth gives me a curious look, getting up from one of the chairs. "Do I want to know what he was asking about?"
I run a hand over my mouth. "Probably not."
She puts down the decorative table carving she has in her hands and purses her lips in my direction. "They're very single-minded, aren't they?"
"I suspect it's part of their upbringing." I shrug, taking the sealed package of blankets from the bot.
"Because they're clones?" She sounds interested. "When Helen woke up, we couldn't figure out why she was so innocent. We thought maybe the stasis pods damaged her memory or something. She didn't know anything at all."
Right. The qura'aki. Kef me, I forgot there was a qura'aki. That's going to be a problem, but that's for the future. I won't focus on it too much now or I'll just stress myself out. I tear open the seal on the blankets and they puff up automatically, filling my arms. "That's typical of clones. Some are given memory inserts—basic information that they think a purchaser might want—but some are left untampered deliberately. They say it's at the owner's discretion as to whether or not they're taught anything. It's a barbaric practice."
I unravel the blankets and look for an appropriate spot to set up a bed for her. Kef me, everything in my quarters looks hard and uncomfortable. I have no lounging couches. My chairs are expensive more than they are pleasant. The floor seems like a bad idea. After all, I slept on it and I know how hard it is. Ruth is…slender. Soft. She's not built like a hardy mesakkah.
Maybe she should have the bed.
"Do…do clones ever get memories of any kind?" Ruth's voice pierces my thoughts, and I realize I've been focused so much that I forgot what we were speaking about.
"Mmm, depends on who or what you're cloning, I suppose." I study the bed. It does look so much softer than the floor. Truly, she should have it. Why is my room so keffing uncomfortable? I think of the couches in the crew's rec rooms. Maybe we could snag one of those. "There's always the old stories about someone waking up and missing chunks of their minds, and then going through their life and never knowing they're a clone. Seems outlandish to me."
"Chunks of their minds?" Ruth echoes. "I haven't heard these stories."
I chuckle, setting the blankets on the bed. For tonight, she'll sleep here. We'll figure something else out tomorrow. "You know how it goes. Someone wakes up and they can only remember bits and pieces of themselves. As they go through life, they keep hearing of all the terrible things they did, and they wonder, am I a monster? Am I this evil? Then it turns out it was a clone all along. It's a cautionary tale about cloning. Something about if they're done on the black market or something, and how corners are cut in production. But you don't have to worry about that with my men. I had them thoroughly vetted once I freed them, and only the ones that passed psych evaluations were kept on as crew." I gesture at the bed. "You'll sleep here tonight. It's the best place for you."