 |
 |
 |
 |
|
 |
 |
more than ample portions of the various wines andliquors for which
Qalara was known throughout the galaxy. (All excellent,
Dorjan admitted, though Qalara's beers were lacking in comparison
toThebanis's Starflare). Sampled, too, had been Qalara's equally
delightfulwomen (and men-Songbird had no sexual preference; just a
Jarp's sexualappetite). The two days onplanet had been good. A well-
deserved mini-vacationfor captain and crew. Good for all onboard, except
the First Mate. Dorjanstudied his friend from the corner of an eye, then
turned to Yarn and tiltedhis head toward the door. The computrician
pushed from his chair at SIPACUMwithout question and redshifted. Dorjan
swiveled to his fellow Harbian. Hetook a deep breath. "Care to get it
off your chest?" Songan's shaven headturned from the control console.
"There's nothing to say ... not really.
Hakimit can't do anything. Even if they wanted to." "Can't?" Dorjan
stared athis friend uncertain what he meant. "It was a waste of time,
Dorjan." Songanleaned back in the conformachair. His eyes were without
luster. "Hakimit Medapparently does human cloning. Getting them to admit
to that was a major taskin itself! They don't like to talk about the
'internal operations' ofHakimit." 214 He paused for a heavy, silent
moment. "I did manage to talk withone daktari. She was tight-lipped but
confirmed that Hakimit does'participate' in 'certain cloning projects'
involving human subjects. Exactlywhat those projects were, she refused
to say. "She did say-in convolutedterms-that only the very rich and very
powerful of Qalara were involved."
Songan shrugged. "She made it plain that my case- Yoluta-does not
qualify forthe program." Dorjan felt rage slowly mounting within him.
Songan was hisfriend, and no one, especially not some administrator
securely insulated bybureaucratic mumbo-jumbo, had the right to say a
friend was unqualified. "Wecan get stells-take them from Qalara, if need
be." Songan shook his head. "Shewas emphatic about the program being
closed. Stells aren't enough to unlockHakimit's secrets." Again Songan
sat silently. His gaze moved over the conwith its colorfully flashing
lights and displays. "Dorjan, she explained thatcloning isn't enough to
bring Yoluta back. The body could be cloned, yes . . .
but not the mind. A cloned brain is like a-a blank cassette. It has to
be
encoded, imprinted." He looked at Dorjan. "Apparently Hakimit requires a
brainscan from each of its special clients. The scans provide the
neededinformation to imprint the clone. The scan is the individual-
personality,
memory, conscious and unconscious. The scans have to be updated
periodicallyto keep the subject's memories current." Dorjan glanced at
the floor. A bodywas merely a shell. Yoluta, the woman Songan had loved-
still loved- was morethan a body. It was beyond Hakimit's ability to
bring Yoluta back to hisfriend. "The daktari mentioned one other
possibility," Songan said, his voiceweary. "There's new research in
progress out on Hawking." 215 "Hawking?"
Dorjan's head jerked up. The planet was the outermost of Galactic
worlds,
hanging away out there on the rim, the spiral arm of the galaxy. It
wasconsidered the cultural hub of human civilization. Neither he nor
Songan hadbeen to Hawking. "I'm not certain if it's worth considering.
It is acompletely new avenue-memory imprinting on a cellular level. The
researchershave theorized that the DNA in each human cell contains a
chemo-electrical
