Chapter 31 (Replica 1): Special Pardon

65 million years ago, on Venus

Colonel Fairman and Nikola Tesla could hardly be called friends; they had simply met a few times for work-related reasons.

Tesla had a good impression of the colonel. He was handsome, efficient, and, even out of uniform, his upright posture and concise speech revealed a disciplined military bearing.

Just now, Colonel Fairman had called to say he was bringing Tesla a very special gift. On the other end of the line, Director Abbott raised his voice in agreement: “Nikola, wait for us—we’re bringing you something you’ll absolutely love.”

Venus was beset by one crisis after another, and Nikola Tesla had been living in constant tension and anxiety. He could not imagine what sort of gift would actually lift his spirits.

The doorbell rang. Tesla opened the door to his studio—and froze in disbelief. Standing before him was Maria.

“My dear Nikola, I’m back,” Maria smiled radiantly before losing control and embracing Tesla tightly, kissing him.

Nikola Tesla knew Venusian law well; Maria’s unauthorized human cloning was a serious crime, punishable by exile to Earth, never to return to Venus.

Now, reunited with Maria on Venus, Tesla’s joy was soon tempered by the realization that Colonel Fairman and Director Abbott were still standing at the threshold. As he invited them in, he turned to the colonel and asked,

“Has Maria been paroled? How long is she allowed to stay on Venus this time?”

“Mr. Tesla, Maria has been pardoned. From now on, she is a free woman—free to go wherever she wishes,” Colonel Fairman replied with polite gravity.

“The Alliance has officially approved your plan, and the Venus Academy of Sciences’ Institute of Life Sciences has established an emergency cloning laboratory. Maria has just been appointed chief scientist,” Director Abbott added.

Nikola Tesla gathered his thoughts, realizing the logic: according to his crisis response plan, shattering Mars would only be feasible if the Venusians could extract genetic material and replicate human bodies. Maria’s expertise was now indispensable.

Gradually calming herself, Maria glanced around Tesla’s studio, found the water dispenser, and, like a mistress of the house, began preparing drinks for the guests.

Tesla went over to help. Maria turned, speaking to everyone, though it sounded almost as if she were talking to herself:

“Shattering Mars—your plan is madness. My assigned task is to extract genes and clone human bodies. I’m not sure I can guarantee a hundred percent success.”

Nikola Tesla and Director Abbott, helpless yet as concise as possible, explained the situation to Maria: an accident at the Saturnian Sedna satellite’s superluminal power station had caused the satellite to explode, triggering a chain reaction that threatened to destroy the habitable zone of the solar system—and, with it, the extinction of Venusian humanity.

To stop Jupiter from drifting closer to the sun, Mars had to be shattered, creating an asteroid belt. When Mars exploded, six billion Venusians would have nowhere to hide. The only solution was to extract each person’s stem cells and other genetic material and preserve them at a temporary base on Saturn’s moon Iapetus.

Once the fallout from the explosion dissipated, Maria would lead a team of scientists to Earth, using these genetic “seeds” to reconstitute the bodies—thus resurrecting Venusian humanity. Earth would become their new home.

*

“Protecting the solar system and remaking Earth’s terrain isn’t my specialty; that’s up to you. My main focus is cloning technology,” Maria said.

“Maria, leave the rest to us. I know even just the cloning work is enormously complex. Please, we’re counting on you,” Director Abbott said earnestly.

Maria considered this, then voiced a question that had long troubled her: “Cloning humans isn’t just a technical challenge. It involves legal and ethical dilemmas, and as a scientist, I’ve always been torn.”

“The Alliance Parliament has passed an emergency bill, authorizing the government to lift restrictions on human cloning when Venusian survival faces existential threat,” Colonel Fairman explained. “To prevent abuse or ethical crises, the bill sets out two principles: minimal necessity and fairness.”

He elaborated: Once Maria and other scientists had mastered mature cloning techniques through experimentation, all six billion Venusians, on a voluntary basis, would be permitted one—and only one—opportunity to be cloned.

“I understand. All these years, the legal and ethical debates around cloning have weighed heavily on me. Now I see I need not worry so much. I’ll assemble my laboratory at once and devote myself entirely to developing and testing cloning technology,” Maria said.

*

Brahma and Venu had been back in their small fishing village for some time. As a mother, Venu missed her daughter Cynthia, far away on Earth, with every fiber of her being.

Venus’s temperature swings between day and night were intensifying, and natural disasters—volcanoes, earthquakes, violent storms—were becoming ever more frequent. Ordinary Venusians, the couple included, were starting to feel the impending crisis; Venus was seemingly no longer fit for human life.

Civilian spacecraft to Earth and Mars had all been canceled. The couple was powerless. Venu wept daily for her daughter Cynthia, so far away.

At dusk, the electric lights of vehicles flickered along the mountain road near the fishing village. Brahma stood on a low wall outside, peering toward the lights and saw a long convoy approaching. The once-abandoned house Maria had used years ago was lit up again.

Minutes later, an electric car stopped at their gate—and out stepped Maria herself. Venu, overjoyed as if seeing a long-lost relative, welcomed Maria inside.

“How have you returned to Venus?” Venu asked. “Is Cynthia alright? We’ve been so worried about her.”

“I’ve been pardoned, and I’ve been given a new assignment. Cynthia is well—don’t worry. I’ll see her again when I go to Earth soon.”

“When you return to Earth, can you take us with you?” Venu asked, full of hope.

Maria hesitated. She would be traveling on the Academy’s official ship and had no authority to take passengers unrelated to research. Seeing the anxious mother before her, Maria understood all too well, and so she changed the subject:

“I came back to retrieve some materials and special equipment I’d stored here years ago—and also to check in on you.”

“You’ve been pardoned, and the Alliance has legalized cloning humans, hasn’t it?” Brahma asked tentatively.

“Yes, cloning is now legal. I’ll soon be taking the first group of volunteers to the Earth base for experimental cloning,” Maria explained.

“Volunteers? You mean the technology still isn’t fully mature?” Brahma asked.

*

Maria’s thoughts turned to Cynthia’s abnormal lung function, and she apologized deeply: “I wasn’t able to replicate little Cynthia perfectly. I’m so sorry! And for more than a decade, I haven’t had any chance to conduct further cloning experiments. That’s why I need to start over—with the help of volunteers.”

“Volunteers—could I be a volunteer for your experiment?” Venu’s eyes lit up. “That way, I could go to Earth with you and be with Cynthia again.”

Maria was momentarily at a loss. Brahma suddenly leaped to his feet, exclaiming, “I’ll volunteer too—I want to go to Earth with you.”

“No, absolutely not!” Maria shook her head vigorously, repeating her protest.

“Why not? You need healthy volunteers, don’t you? We both meet the requirements. Please, let us go—let us be with Cynthia again. I’m begging you!” Venu pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Maria was at a loss for words. She could not bear to hurt this desperate couple.

Cynthia—because of Cynthia, Maria knew she must refuse. But the words would not come. Against her own conscience, she nodded in silence.

The couple leapt up, thanking her again and again. Venu laughed and cried at once, tears and smiles mingling as she mumbled, “Cynthia, Mama and Papa will see you soon!”

Maria collapsed, powerless, into her chair, tormented by the question that had haunted her for years: Was human cloning salvation, or disaster? Beneath the miracle of science, did it not bring about the collapse of ethics and morality?

Perhaps the couple did not grasp Maria’s dilemma. They were, in fact, the worst possible volunteers—for once they were cloned on Earth, a profound ethical confusion would ensue:

Their daughter Cynthia, now twenty, would hold in her arms a newborn baby—who was, in fact, her own parents.

&

A poem of compressed verses:

Refined into scarlet pills, jade softened to powder.
Dare to cast all lightly into the great furnace.
At the waist, the cinnabar brush holds the elixir of spirit.
A single thought of emptiness is buoyed by wisdom’s strength.