DISCLAIMER: This chapter has some very specific views on cloning. Despite how it may look, it presents a one-sided argument. (That argument doesn’t necessarily reflect my views; I don’t really care about it.) Please do not form your opinions based on the facts stated in this chapter.

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Jack trudged down the halls of the school, trying to meander the ten yards between his history class and the office as slowly as possible. His efforts turned out to be futile as Mr. Jones happened to poke his head out of the guidance office. The councilor’s eyes narrowed, a look appearing on his face that screamed something to the effect of, “I should have known.” Without realizing it, Jack acquired the same expression on his own face.

“Jonathan, why are you here again?” Jones demanded. Jack didn’t answer, instead pretending to find something quite interested outside the windows on the left side of the hall. “I won’t be mad at you,” he promised, the edge in his voice showing his hand.

Jack allowed Jones to lead him back into the depths of the guidance office. Once in the small room again, the clone sank into one of the padded chairs in front of an excessively organized desk. Mr. Jones slammed the door then sat behind the desk with his elbows on the uncluttered surface, rubbing his face with his hands.

When he finally looked up again, Jones asked, his voice many times calmer than before, “What class did you come from?”

“History.”

The councilor’s eyebrows momentarily flicked skyward in surprise; the boy before him had gotten thrown out of his science class quite often, and he occasionally was sent from math and Spanish. But up until now, he hadn’t managed to bother his history teacher enough to wind up here.

Jones sighed deeply. “What happened?”

“A difference of opinion on ancient Egypt,” Jack grumbled in reply. “That’s all.”

“Can you tell me about this difference of opinion?”

“No.”

“Jonathan, you are only, what, fifteen years old? There is no way you could really know more than so many of your teachers. You just have to trust that they know what they’re talking about.”

Fifteen? Right! My body’s about one now with the mind at fifty-five. He shook his head. “They don’t.”

“I know you’re a teenager, Jonathan, but contrary to popular belief, that doesn’t mean you have to be rebellious.”

“I understand,” Jack replied, pausing to keep from adding “sir”, “but I’ve always been this way; it’s got nothing to do with the fact that I’m a teen.” As he said this, he recalled defying Hammond’s order and going through the gate to save the world. He also thought of the time SG-1 had gone through the gate with the special armbands on. No, nothing was new about his behavior.

Jones rolled his eyes. “Jonathan, you’re a bright person, but remember why you’re here.”

Jack nodded. “Girls.”

“No, you’re here to learn.”

Jack thought a moment. “No, girls,” he insisted.

“Let me ask you this, then: Where to you see yourself in five years?”

“The Air Force.”

“Ten years?”

“A general in the Air Force,” he answered in all seriousness.

Jones snorted with laughter. “Jonathan, it takes more than ten years to reach a rank like that!”

“I know.”

“Where do you really see yourself in ten years?”

He thought a moment. “A Brigadier General in the Air Force.”

“Jonathan, that’s never going to happen.”

“It depends on who’s in power.”

“You’re kidding! You think the president is just going to hand over a rank like that?”

“No.”

“Well?” Before Jack could answer, the bell rang. He stood up, pulling his backpack on, and headed to the door. “Jonathan,” the councilor scolded, “I’m not done talking to you.”

“I’m done talking to you,” he replied, gripping the doorknob.

“That wasn’t very polite.”

“I’m not very polite.”

“Where are you going?”

Jack stood a bit straighter, slightly adjusted his tie. “English class. I’ve got a debate to do.”

Jones rolled his eyes. “The debate can wait.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Jack began, too tired to correct any old habits, “it can’t. The last person to miss his debate got a zero on the project. So I’m off for Oz.” With that, the clone pulled open the door and stepped out, hurrying toward his next class.

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“If information derived from cloning research allows scientists to stop the division of the human ovum, a technique for terminating cancer may be found,” Jack’s classmate explained for his side of the debate, pro-cloning. “This is because the process by which the ovum divides—mitosis—is the same process the cancer cells use to multiply.” A slight murmur around in the classroom. Jack noticed an especially animated response from that Matt King.

That’s a good point, Jack ceded to himself. His turn. “Full-out cloning would make the clone feel inferior to the original person, leaving him to live in the shadow of the original. Even if, as my opponent said earlier, cloning could be used to replaced children who died at a young age, the clones of those children would grow up knowing that they were replacements, ghosts of the first kids. From what I’ve seen, anyone with older siblings can see something of that.” Saying that made him think of Charlie. It almost seems selfish to want a clone of Charlie, but I couldn’t put him through this. Skaara was almost like another kid, but he died, too. A brief, sad smile flickered onto his face. It would be impossible to clone Skaara now.

Jack’s opponent winced slightly. Apparently, he had an older brother. “Many people die because they need organ transplants,” the other boy stated. “Through the use of cloning technology, each person could have his or her clone standing by, ready if he or she needs an organ. Because the DNA is the same, there would be a much smaller chance for rejection, and blood types wouldn’t need to be checked. No one would need to worry about getting AIDS from a blood transfusion, because the blood could come from the clone.”

The clone rolled his eyes. “For crying out loud, how you like it if you woke up one morning and found out that your existence means nothing because you’re a clone of somebody else? And that somebody else needs an organ, so they’re going to kill you so that other person, who looks exactly like you, by the way, can live.”

The other boy swallowed. “Cloning is happening right now and has been for the past few years. Cloned fetuses for scientific research, by law, are to be destroyed before they are born. The Supreme Court ruled that clones are not people.”

Jack stared, trying not to reveal any top secret information. He sure felt like a person! No one had even suspected that he was a clone until Selmak came over and looked at some stupid DNA fingerprinting. He took a few deep breaths.

“Jonathan, is something wrong?” the teacher asked.

“No,” he replied, still trying to get a grip on his anger. “My final point is that genes change as an organism ages. If an older person is cloned, the genes of the clone are older than the body. This has been proven to create certain issues concerning genetic deterioration, which is apparently quite painful.” He tried not to wince as he remembered what that felt like. Stupid Loki.

His opponent frowned. “What about Dolly?”

“I was referring to human cloning.”

“I thought they’d only cloned fetuses?”

“I’m just reciting what my source said.”

The teacher smiled. “Very good, both of you. Let’s give a round of applause for Jack and Kurt, and get on with our next debate, school drug testing.” Jack barely heard the half-hearted clapping. As he collected his notes, he couldn’t stop thinking about Charlie. And Sara.