Page 109 of Border Control

She doesn't move. “Clones aren't anything special.”

My chest burns with the injustice. Nothing special? Then why does life without him feel like an impossible void in my mind? The thought of waking without his steady warmth beside me, of losing the safety and chaos and stubbornness that ishim—it’s unbearable. He has woven himself into the fabric of my days without asking, without trying, just by being who he is. My protector. My confidant.

I know what he is: someone who steadies me when I can’t breathe, who didn’t let this world’s cruelty carve the goodness out of him. Somehow, this place didn’t crush his capacity to care. And I love that about him. I want to nurture it, to build a future where he doesn’t have to flinch at commands or carry chains of obedience. Where we can simply exist together.

Samara continues, “Parthiastocks in particular are nothing. They're an early template, and?—”

Burying everything rising within me, I say sweetly, “Oh, no, I mean, it's a waste of an opportunity to test your laws the Earth way. It’ll help make them stronger.”

Imaya perks up, the way I hoped she would.

I raise my voice. “After all, societal laws need to be safe, fair, and correctly applied. There are so many places they can accidentally fail.”

“Such as?” a redhead asks, her tone accusatory. She's a Samara die hard.

I count on my fingers. “Letter of the law versus spirit is a big one. How do we know whether it's being applied as intended?”

“Because I made the law, and I can see how it's being applied,” Samara says curtly.

“So do you make all the laws?”

“The ones that matter,” she snaps, then glances at her friends.

They look at each other. Good. A small crack of doubt I can stick a wedge into.

“So, let's say all important, crucial laws were made by you.”

“They are,” chirps in Blondie, Samara's chief cheerleader.

I could kiss her. “Right. So the spirit and the letter hopefully match. That needs testing.”

“Our laws are strong enough without needing primitive Earth techniques?—”

“But it can't hurt, can it? Perhaps I could learn something from the exact wording you've set down into law.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and it's all the opening I need.

“You do write down your laws, don't you?”

“They're simple, easy to digest and apply,” Samara counters.

“Ah. So the letter and the spirit thing I mentioned… it's just you, interpreting it each time?” I click my tongue. “Doesn't seem efficient. What if you want to go on vacation one day?”

“The Voices know my intent,” Samara says.

We're locked together in a back and forth but I need to add more voices to mine. Some of her own people’s.

“Other places it can fail are in application. What's the judicial process like?” I ask the redheaded Voice.

She opens her mouth when Samara interjects. “This doesn't apply to clones. There's a higher standard for True Born Sons, higher still for females.”

“But is it the same basic process?”

“Yes, but simplified,” the Voice explains. “For True Borns and females, we require evidence from each side of the dispute. For clones, once the transgression has been assigned a penalty, that penalty is carried out for all others who commit the same crime.”

“But how do you know they committed the crime?” I press. “How can you be sure they're guilty?”

“Because the claim will have been brought forward by a True Born or female, whose word is worth infinitely more than a clone’s,” Samara says, like it's evident.