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If it renders her submissive, we’ll know she’s perfect for our purposes. If she cannot tolerate it—if it undermines her mental stability—then we’ll know she’s unsuitable.”
    “ Nothing makes this one submissive,” Ga’rag muttered. Then he dared to stand and face his overlord. “She cannot be the answer to our problem, Father. We should dispose of her and find another.”
    “You would allow your petty need for revenge to jeopardize our race’s survival?” The overlord glared in warning. “It shames me to think you were created in my image, and the image of my illustrious ancestor Axa’rag.”
    Ga’rag’s gills vibrated with emotion, but he said nothing.
    And so the overlord continued. “For sixty-five generations, our line of clones has been the shining light of Ra-ahlian civilization. What do you think the Genetic Overseers would do if they saw what you’ve become?”
    “You gave me permission—”
    “Yes, permission to exact vengeance against the Ryerson clan. And also to take pleasure in the specimen’s pain. They deserve all this and more. But if you cannot learn to control your justifiable sadism, you will invalidate the results of the experiment.”
    Ga’rag’s tone warmed. “I will do better, Father. I promise.”
    The overlord studied his expression—a blend of contrition and determination. Excellent. He had no wish to break this clone. Ga’rag had brought great honor to their line, and if Brietta Ryerson proved to be the donor Ra-ahl needed, that honor would be infinite. Perhaps even greater than the fame earned by their original donor, Axa’rag, whose leadership in cloning had led to a purer and more successful Ra-ahlian race.
    “You are very much like Axa’rag, did you know that?”
    “Thank you, Father.”
    “He was our greatest scientist. Our greatest hero. But he was not perfect. Like you, he had a troubling flaw.” Ignoring Ga’rag’s shocked expression, he continued coolly. “His faith in cloning was so absolute, he never allowed for the possibility that we might one day need our females.”
    “He had to destroy the females,” Ga’rag protested. “Are you forgetting the lessons of history? Axa’rag was willing to allow the females to exist—he wanted to clone the best of them too. But they were too reactionary, too combative. They couldn’t accept the Great Leap Forward, and when they rose up against us, we had no choice.”
    “And yet?”
    Ga’rag’s gills were now flapping wildly. “You’re saying he should have anticipated this genetic disaster?”
    “No. I’m saying he should have maintained a supply of females. Not as slaves, because you are correct, they would have sabotaged our efforts again and again. But perhaps on a remote moon, cut off from us and from technology. Like farm animals.”
    “Our females were too rebellious even for that.”
    “No, not rebellious. Primitive.” The overlord studied his clone son for a long moment. “I have been rereading Axa’rag’s journals for the first time in many years. He made an interesting observation on this subject. He said cloning was the next logical step in natural evolution, because it didn’t just ensure the survival of the race as a whole. It satisfied our most basic individual craving—the need for immortality.”
    “Every schoolboy knows that.”
    “And every schoolboy understands it. Because every male wants to live forever. But according to Axa’rag, the females were different. They didn’t desire immortality for themselves. They wanted their children to live forever.”
    “Fascinating.” Ga’rag nodded slowly. “I have seen this weakness in the females of many species. It is troubling to think we will be reintroducing it into our genetic matter.”
    “But this time, it will be more easily dominated by our superior Ra-ahlian nature and by our evolved male instincts.” He raised his claw to forbid interruption. “I am particularly impressed by this Ryerson specimen, Ga’rag.