2019-05-14:

the arizona sky was blotted out with dusty high altitude particulates, making it 
look overcast, except for the artificial sun that shone through evenly directly 
overhead. I craned my neck to follow the rocket as it ascended, switching to 
binoculars just as the main engine shut off. I could see the payload deployment 
through image stabilizers, a great dark spider web of a circle, much larger than 
the rocket, in the center of which was suspended two large reflective tank 
treads. I watched it fall slowly through the air until it went behind the ridge 
line, and then switched to the live feed to see the landing. imagine a tank, but 
with no armor, just a spindly carbon fiber skeleton, hanging at a 45 degree 
angle from a parafoil. then it spins up its treads to a blur just before they 
contact a dirt road, kicking up a huge trailing cloud of dust and rotating the 
whole lurching assembly to horizontal, while simultaneously the parasail 
collapses into a heap behind it.

up the trail from my picnic tables was a McDonalds. there must have been a field 
trip of some sort, because inside there were teenagers everywhere, laughing and 
throwing ketchup-stained napkins at each other, sitting on top of the booth 
couches with their feet on the table. all the noise and commotion was too sudden 
a change from my still and sun baked launch observation camp site, so i decided 
the bathroom could wait and headed back outside.

behind the drive-through there was a nature band-aid, a planter with bushes and 
some cool river rocks to sit on, but my spot was taken. sitting there in the 
shade was an overly tanned girl with dirty blonde hair, who looked familiar 
somehow. she reminded me of my ex-girlfriend, but must have been only sixteen.

she looked up at me cheerfully, "did you see the launch?"

I nodded affirmatively. "that's why I'm here," I replied, pointing at the 
binoculars. "mind if i sit down?" 

"it's a free country." she said, and stared off into the distance.

so i sat on the cool smooth rocks and wiped the sweaty dust off my forehead with 
a McDonald's napkin. or was it dusty sweat? I looked at the dusty sky, and at 
the sweaty napkin, thinking about all the radioactive particles and eons of 
geological history lodged in its fibers, and at the sweaty girl sitting next to 
me in her khaki shorts and tank top, and wondering where I could have met her 
before.

"I don't mean to be rude, but, do we know each other? I mean, I swear I've seen 
you before, somewhere." I unthinkingly held the napkin out as an offering.

"oh, I get that all the time. you probably saw my sister Emony inside the 
restaurant. here, let me show you." she got up stiffly and motioned toward the 
door and I followed.

Emony was extracted from a throng and brought over to a corner by her double. 
They really did look exactly alike.

"I'm Elsie," said the one on the left, "and this is my big sister Emony" she 
said, pointing to the one on the right, who bowed gracefully. The fluorescent 
light sparkled off her eyes.

As I compared them side to side, they really did look nearly identical, right 
down to the slight mottling of the tan on the right side of their noses. They 
even had the same haircut, although Emony wore a white tee shirt instead of a 
tank top.

"Wow, that's amazing. you really do look identical. except the eyes are a little 
different." I leaned forward and peered into Elsie's eyes, and then over to 
Emony, who giggled and jumped back. Emony had a strong corneal refraction which 
looked like a dark ring around her iris, whereas Elsie had flatter, older eyes. 
Elsie blushed and looked down at the floor.

A black boy, decked out head to toe in a brand new hologram white plastic Adidas 
outfit walked over laughing, and slipped his arm around Emony's shoulder. she 
turned to him, raised her eyebrows at me and waved, laughing as well.

"yo Em, you gotta back me up on this. these crazy byatches think they all..." 
his voice faded into the background noise as they turned around as a unit and 
headed back into the group.

"well. so. I uh, I guess I have to be going too," Elsie stammered. she paused 
for a second, looked up at me, then turned and walked away.

---

it was night time on the Amtrak and I was the only one in the observation car at 
the end of the train. the steady low ka-clunk every two seconds was at odds with 
the stillness of the stars. 

I got up to pee, taking my backpack with me into the cramped stainless steel 
booth that passes for a bathroom. as I was doing my business I noticed a wadded 
up napkin on top of the trash with the familiar gold arches and smeared with 
makeup. a crude dog with horns and the words "M is a slut" were drawn in 
eyeliner on the mirror. Em was what he called her. could they be on this train? 
it's not implausible, seeing as how it's the only major public transport route 
headed through Bisbee, and the station was only one block from the McDonald's.

I made up my mind. yes. I was going to do the creepy thing. it was a long shot, 
but there was only one way to go about it. once I got home, the DNA sequence 
from the napkin, combined with my darknet databases would tell me her real name, 
who her social contacts were, and everything else I could possibly want to know. 
I had managed to maneuver the precious napkin halfway into a crinkly plastic bag 
of seaweed snacks, holding the sides of the bag and trying not to touch it with 
my hands, when an irregular ka-klunk interrupted the usual rhythm. voices in the 
train car. I put my ear up to the door to listen to what was going on outside.

"... for the shelter, if you're willing to, and think you're a good match. we 
accept people of all ages, backgrounds, and ethnicities. we're all god's 
children, no matter how far we may have fallen." a soft male voice.

"we don't have to do anything but show up? i don't have an ID card. this is it. 
just me. what you see is what you get." an anxious female voice. 

"naturally of course we'd want to hear about your background and family, why you 
ran away. maybe there is something we can do to help, eventually. but I promise 
none of that will be entered into any federal databases, if that is what's 
important to you. you have my word. our mission is to help the needy, and that 
includes everyone."

"are you sure?" she asked, hesitantly.

"absolutely." came the response.

my ear was getting sweaty on the fiberglass door but i didn't want to move the 
crinkly plastic bag to get in my backpack, so i held up the end of my shirt and 
listened some more.

"...synthesized in a contract laboratory from human progenitor cells and 
digitally reconstituted information." the female voice had taken on a singsong 
quality. she continued, "so I really have no family, you see.. do you still 
think-" but was interrupted. there was the sound of someone shuffling around.

"disgusting _things_ are not welcome." his voice had turned cold. he laughed 
nervously. "I should have known. we were taught about your kind. you lie, just 
by being. it all looks so real, but in the end you're just a trap set for us, 
another temptation on the road to hell. you're not even a person. you have no 
soul to save in the first place. what a fool I've been." the male voice was 
shrill and punctuated by rapid gasps.

I slammed open the door and stepped out into the car, and they both turned to 
look at me in surprise. It was in fact Elsie, or Emony, and a young man whose 
pockmarked face and hot topic leather jacket clashed with his bible study hair 
and oval gold-rimmed glasses.

"You." I pointed at him. "get the fuck out of here, before you embarrass 
yourself even more." his wide open mouth changed to a scowl as he looked from me 
to the girl and back. I stomped forward threateningly and then he practically 
ran out of the train car. some passengers in the car ahead looked back worriedly 
through the open door, which slowly closed on its own.

Elsie was trembling and turning pale, bent forward with her arms crossed over 
her abdomen. There were the beginnings of tears forming at the corner of her 
eyes.

"hey. easy there, sit down." I put my hand on her back to stop her from falling 
when the train lurched, and she moved shakily into a crouching position against 
a wall and nodded.

"just give me a minute." her hands went to her temples and she held her breath 
and closed her eyes, squeezing out two tears onto the floor. I crouched there 
and watched her until the shaking subsided, feeling the rhythmic ka-klunk 
through the floor.

the stars overhead were as still as ever.

Elsie opened her bleary eyes and looked at me, then looked past me. she then sat 
on the floor, leaned back against the wall, and closed her eyes.

"this happens all the time." she sighed wearily. "this is just my life." she 
looked down at the floor again.

"hold on, let me go get you some water." I stood up and went to the bathroom, 
gingerly picking up the crinkly plastic bag and balancing it in the sink, and 
returned with a full water bottle and the backpack.

"if this is just your life," I bent over, handing her the water bottle with a 
smile, "then why do you look so flustered?"

she barely managed a laugh and took a sip. but it was a laugh at least, and not 
a sob. I looked at her gray sweaty thighs on the dirty train floor. yes, perhaps 
a temptation for some, but to me she just looked like someone suffering from the 
symptoms of shock.

we sat in silence for several minutes while the color slowly returned to her 
skin.

"do you want to tell me about how you ended up on this train, and why you were 
talking to a missionary about shelter?" I looked at her sternly. a runaway with 
no family, what would that even mean?

"okay." she nodded, and looked up at me. "you deserve that much. for helping me."

"it's what anyone would have done." I said, easing myself down to the 
floor across from her.

"no. it isn't. you don't understand. not after they learn the truth. you must 
have heard, what I was saying, from before. I'm the experimental child number 
eleven from the Center for Modern Evolution, and Emony is number twelve. we were 
derived from two related cell lines L and M, so they provisionally named me 'L 
cell' and her 'M-N cell' but the name stuck and so my full legal name is now 
'Elsel Linnea Ciemi' or Elsie for short. not a natural human like you." she put 
on a brave face and stiffened her back.

"blond hair, blue eyes, interested in rocket launches. who would have guessed?" 
I laughed. "clever of them I suppose, but sort of too obvious in retrospect."

"yes, the owner doesn't care what anyone else thinks. of the CME I mean. 'these 
are my children, get used to it' is what he would say. but he's not my father. 
not genetically, and not where it counts. my real mother is Patty Garcia, but 
I was raised by a group of scientists. before we ran away..." she trailed off.

"before...? what?"

"well, it's just so different out here. like, not growing up in a hospital. not 
having your RNA expression levels tested in ten places. every. single. day. did 
you know, that people sleep with dogs? in their bed. we had dogs at the center, 
in level two containment pens, but outside, it's like the dog is a real person. 
and not a lab animal. not like me." she started to cry again. "I can't believe 
I'm... jealous... of a dog. it's not fair!"

"look, whatever weird shit someone said to you, forget about it. you're better 
than a dog. you have every right to sleep in a bed, like a dog." I laughed at 
what I was saying, "look, you have every right that any other human has, 
regardless what anyone thinks. and that's final. end of story."

she just looked at me and said, "I don't sleep."

oh. huh. well, that's bound to raise a few questions. I'd have to think about 
the implications. like why she needed shelter. or what other differences there 
were. girl's gotta shower. had genetic engineering really progressed that far?
it had only gotten started in the twenties.

"and your sister?"

"Emony, she is genetically identical, but was derived from cell lines that 
underwent a full in-vitro fertilization cycle. that was the purpose of the 
experiment. my purpose. i'm the control subject." she put the water bottle down 
on the floor. "that's me, Elsie LC, the control subject."