“Nobody should have a number for a name.”
-Aedee, in ‘Discermination’
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A HISTORY:
Recapitulation Of Aedee I-V and Madison I-II*
*All Transcriptions are taken in their original form from ‘Discermination’, by Dr. Gerard Mann. Some of the earlier narrations have been condensed and combined into broader and more informative ‘Recapitulations’.
Aedee is the 80th replica of Elena Joy Dinia, a narcissistic model celebrated in her day as ‘God’s most beautiful creation’.
The world is in turmoil over the practice of cloning. Although discrimination against clones is illegal, Aedee’s psychological environment is customized to her particular needs, and this alone effectively segregates her from the true humans in many ways.
Her guardians are well off enough to afford her every advantage, her admittance into the right private school to accommodate her needs, the most informed and open-minded tutors, and as a child, first-rate nannies. Unfortunately for them, the practice of purchasing and raising clones becomes politically incorrect shortly after her appearance in their home, and this makes their responsibilities distasteful, every contact with her an aggravation of this injury, every reluctant thought of her existence an uncomfortable reminder of something they desperately wish to forget. And though they do not say this in so many words, Aedee is aware of it from an early age, and of the impossibility of it ever being any different.
Legally, she is Elena Joy Dinia #80, in accordance with the wishes of the original. She does not interact with others her age outside of school, and even there, where the friction of her encounters sometimes sparks infant flames of friendship, she finds that there is too much wind and too little fuel for them to survive. Her guardians are well aware of the imprudence of forming an emotional bond with “80” (as they have a habit of calling her) and seem indeed grateful for this advice, given them by one of her psycho-analysts.
Although Aedee’s existence is offensive to the greater part of the population, there are those who take pity on her kind, and she is even revered by others, though this reverence denies her deepest desires for human dignity and individuality by defining her entirely in relation to someone else: a reincarnation, an icon, a living work of art. Many of Elena’s clones work in entertainment or are models themselves. A couple of them even make fortunes in the porn industry.
Aedee, like all of Elena’s clones, is a strong-willed child, but early on her guardians express hope that the proper environment, and in particular, the proper schooling might cure her of this. The tutors and nannies have less than ideal success, but an even more bitter disappointment is the failure of school—Aedee collides determinedly with this structure, raising mutual contempt like contusions on the social skin, and inciting herself to further rebellions with these injuries.
This failure is never more grossly pronounced than when, at the age of eleven, Aedee decides to change her name, refusing to answer to “Elena” or to write that name on her assignments, and replacing it with a phonetic rendition of her number. Meeting to discuss this and various other acts of rebellion, her guardians and principal agree to refrain from suspending her or keeping her after school, as both parties concede that either of these measures “would be unfair.” A couple teachers threaten to fail her, but faced with the prospect of entertaining the difficult clone for another year, they fold at the semester’s end. Eventually Aedee, through willpower alone, succeeds in changing her name, and through consistent and even violent stubbornness on the issue conforms most of those with whom she has regular contact to this new standard.
Over time, Aedee grows from a strong-willed, rebellious child into an independent and pessimistic young woman. She gets used to her loneliness and actually grows to fear social interaction.
But this isolation is not destined to remain unchallenged. It happens from time to time that Aedee develops a friendship with some person and soon after finds a reason to break it off altogether; this is typical of Elena’s clones, and no one seems surprised that Aedee is unable to maintain lasting friendships. But Aedee is at first surprised. Even though she has grown accustomed to telling herself that she will always be a loner, there is a part of her that does not like to believe that, and this part is continually disappointed at the accuracy of her own prediction.
But a fresh surprise awaits her third year at the University—she is pursuing a higher education despite her distaste for institutions, simply to “avoid making a contribution to society” and because of a recently passed law offering full scholarships to clones, which she views as an avenue to financial independence—the surprise comes in the person, or rather in certain tendencies, and more specifically, in the attitude immediately adopted towards her, of Madison McGady. He is a year younger than Aedee, however, due to a degree of intelligence and a proclivity for overachievement, is in the same class.
They meet in Madison’s most anticipated and Aedee’s most dreaded hour of the day: Public Speaking. Aedee fulfills her most basic obligations by standing at the front of the classroom and reading aloud to the other students, while Madison earns top marks with animated speeches reminiscent of his father, a successful lawyer.
Naturally, Aedee forms an immediate bias against this enthusiastic entertainer, though in many ways she admires his speeches: never of an appropriate tone in her estimation, she still can’t help being drawn to his charisma; he really is quite funny, and she also can’t disavow his genuinely rare talent—he can say something entirely contrary to her beliefs so sincerely and eloquently that for a moment she agrees, and even later when she has reminded herself of all the reasons why that can never be, there remains a hint of doubt in her heart, untainted by the resentment usually conjured in her at the mere thought of society’s other persuaders: religious leaders, lawyers, politicians—foolish, heartless, power mongering demagogues, all of them. But in trying to explain this incongruity to herself, Aedee is often perplexed and can only think that maybe, despite his obvious infatuation with his ideas, Madison doesn’t care as much as all those others about being believed but shares from an innate passion, from a feeling inside of him too strong to be kept in. So, when Professor Glik assigns the two of them a paired speech assignment, Aedee is unsure of how to act: whether to respond according to her outward or her inward bias.
Their professor goes out of his way to notify the two of them that “partners will not be graded individually,” evidently intending to guilt Aedee into upping her game, and Aedee takes this attempted manipulation as a cue, replying pointedly that perhaps she’ll just sit this one out.
But Madison is confident in his powers of persuasion and more intrigued than put off by Aedee’s stubborn reaction. Still, his first technique, using the grade dilemma as a ploy for sympathy, is a dismal failure, and he is quickly forced to change tactics. He takes to sitting next to her in class and sharing his ideas for the speech as if she has already agreed, but more often than not, only succeeds in embarrassing one or both of them. For over a week, all Madison gets is silent disapproval from all sides.
Naturally, Madison is discouraged. He holds
out hope longer than most would, but it is a contrived hope that only makes his failure harder to bear. But still he tries: he pursues her as a personal challenge, as a man who, finding a cliff impossible to scale, continues upwards, ignoring the increasing danger of the inevitable descent.
And in this way it happens that the thing he had counted upon comes about as a complete surprise, for it is just when, against his will, he has looked down and begun to doubt that a hand reaches down to lift him safely upwards and chastise his unbelief.
It is Aedee who unexpectedly concedes to “stand up there like an idiot while you make your speech,” but Madison grasps the words as the hand of God. |