Swans and Klons Read online

  Swans and Klons

  Nora Olsen

  Bold Strokes Books (2013)

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  Rating: ★★★☆☆

  Tags: Romance, Young Adult, Gay

  Romancettt Young Adultttt Gayttt

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  What does it take to survive in a world built on lies?

  Sixteen-year-old Rubric loves her pampered life in the Academy dormitory. She’s dating Salmon Jo, a brilliant and unpredictable girl. In their all-female world, non-human slaves called Klons do all the work. But when Rubric and Salmon Jo break into the laboratory where human and Klon babies are grown in vats, they uncover a terrifying secret that tears their idyllic world apart.

  Their friends won’t believe them, and their teachers won’t help them. The Doctors who rule Society want to silence Rubric and Salmon Jo. The two girls must flee for their lives. As they face the unthinkable, the only thing they have left to believe in is their love for each other.

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  About the Author

  Soliloquy Titles From Bold Strokes Books

  Synopsis

  What does it take to survive in a world built on lies?

  Sixteen-year-old Rubric loves her pampered life in the Academy dormitory. She’s dating Salmon Jo, a brilliant and unpredictable girl. In their all-female world, non-human slaves called Klons do all the work. But when Rubric and Salmon Jo break into the laboratory where human and Klon babies are grown in vats, they uncover a terrifying secret that tears their idyllic world apart.

  Their friends won’t believe them, and their teachers won’t help them. The Doctors who rule Society want to silence Rubric and Salmon Jo. The two girls must flee for their lives. As they face the unthinkable, the only thing they have left to believe in is their love for each other.

  Swans & Klons

  Brought to you by

  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Swans & Klons

  © 2013 By Nora Olsen. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-913-8

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  First Edition: May 2013

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Ruth Sternglantz

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to the amazing Lev Olsen, Sondra Spatt Olsen, and Ara Hale Burklund, who took the time to read the manuscript and gave me great feedback. Thanks to Crystal Malarsky Laffan, as well as Mark Eastburn and the other writers in our March 2010 SCBWI NJ conference critique group. And thanks to Frances Hogg Lochow, Brian Higley, Simon Verkhovsky, Alpha S., Anita Merando, and Olive for reading many chapters in our old writers group.

  Thanks to everyone at Bold Strokes Books, especially: my terrific editor, Ruth Sternglantz; Radclyffe, for bringing me into the family; Cindy Cresap, Sandy Lowe, Connie Ward, and Kim Baldwin for all your help.

  Thanks also to Kelly Kingman for helping me with my query letter, Chris Prestia for your excellent advice, and Steve Berman. Rebecca Dingler, and Amy Estrada for being great 2009 NaNoWriMo MLs in the Poughkeepsie region, and Chris Baty for inventing National Novel Writing Month in the first place. Thanks to Daniel Rutter of http://www.howtospotapsychopath.com and commenter corinoco for your inspiring online discussion of airships.

  Thanks to writers Nicola Griffith, Lois McMaster Bujold, and Jane Fletcher —you light the way for the rest of us. And to Adam Rex for these profound words from The True Meaning of Smekday, “Everybodies always is wanting to make a clone for to doing their work. If you are not wanting to do your work, why would a clone of you want to do your work?”

  Above all, thanks to Áine Ní Cheallaigh, the best girlfriend anyone could ever dream of.

  Dedication

  For my mother, Sondra Spatt Olsen

  Chapter One

  She knew it was childish, but sometimes Rubric still wanted to spend time with her Nanny Klon. She stood in Nanny Klon’s windowless room in Yellow Dorm, waiting for her to get back. The bed was folded into the wall, so there wasn’t even a place to sit down.

  A drawer that wasn’t closed all the way caught Rubric’s eye. Her Jeepie Type was well known for being obsessed with order and symmetry. She tried to close it and found a flat, crinkly object sticking out. It felt almost like a leaf, but it looked like something woman-made. Then she saw writing on it and realized it was a piece of paper, like from the olden days.

  Rubric found everything about historic times rather disgusting. She tried to appreciate ancient literature by Brontë and Rowling and people like that, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that all those people used to have fetuses inside their bodies—pregnancies—and then gave birth. Gross, gross, gross! Also she found it hard to relate to the male characters—the men.

  She examined the writing scrawled across the piece of paper. She had never known that Klons were capable of reading. But there was no reason they shouldn’t be. Klons weren’t thicko, they just weren’t human.

  The paper read:

  Dear Bloom,

  I don’t know when I will ever see you again. Try your best to write back. The Milk Delivery Klon said she doesn’t mind carrying messages. I miss you so much, but I’m trying to pay attention to my new assignment.

  She skipped to the bottom:

  My love forever,

  Shine

  She folded it and put it back. The drawer was crammed with other papers. Rubric wondered why Nanny Klon was saving these people’s messages. Just as she shut the drawer carefully, Nanny Klon returned.

  “Rubric, my pet!” Nanny Klon opened her big arms and Rubric went in for a hug. Nanny Klon had once told Rubric that she had to drink a flagon of fat with each meal and one at bedtime to keep her body at the optimal level of soft and comforting, because Nanny Klon’s Jeepie Type tended toward thinness. The Doctors believed that teenagers responded better to Nanny Klons who were plump. When Rubric was younger, she used to buy peppermint oil for Nanny Klon to make her flagons of fat taste more palatable, but she hadn’t thought of such a thing in a
long time.

  “Now, how’s that schatzie of yours?” Nanny Klon asked, releasing her.

  “Salmon Jo’s fine,” Rubric said.

  Nanny Klon sighed. “First love,” she said. “I’ve seen so many girls falling in love for the first time while they were living in Yellow Dorm. Now, I know you didn’t just come here to say hello to me. What’s on your mind?”

  “Tomorrow’s the day we’re going to be matched with our Jeepie Similar mentors,” Rubric told her. “I’m really worried about who I’m going to get.”

  “You’ll be paired with someone very creative,” Nanny Klon said. “Just like you.”

  “Yeah, I know that,” Rubric said. “But I wonder who, specifically. I’ve been looking up people in the city for months, looking for people who look like my Jeepie Similars. And there’s this artist. Her name is Stencil Pavlina. Have you heard of her?”

  Nanny Klon shook her head. Rubric wasn’t surprised. Klons didn’t know about art or anything else that was really important.

  “The first time I ever saw pictures of her sculptures, I felt a special connection with them,” Rubric said. “Then we saw some of them in person on the annual trip, and I felt it even more. I was almost jealous, like, why didn’t I make them? So I always wondered if she was the same Jeepie Type as me. I looked her up, and she looks just like me, only old.”

  “She sounds nice, dear,” Nanny Klon said. “But don’t get your hopes up too much. I’m sure whoever they pick will be just right for you.”

  “Does that really always happen?” Rubric asked. “You’ve seen lots of girls get matched when they turned sixteen.”

  “They always get the right mentor,” Nanny Klon said.

  That wasn’t really the same as getting the mentor you want, Rubric thought.

  “Okay, thanks,” she said, even though Nanny Klon had been no help. As a little child she had been trained to be polite to the Klons. Just because they’re not human is no reason they shouldn’t be treated with respect, she had been lectured.

  “I can understand why you’re nervous,” Nanny Klon said. “This is a big moment in your life. You’re growing up—why, you’re almost a Panna, not a child anymore! What about Salmon Jo? Is she hoping for someone specific?”

  “Of course,” Rubric said. “Not a specific person, but she wants to be matched with a scientist who’s studying Cretinous Males from the olden days. You know how she is—she’s dead set on it.”

  “Her Jeepie Type sometimes has trouble being matched with a mentor.”

  “I never heard that,” Rubric said. “What makes you think so?”

  “I’ve seen so many girls over the years in Yellow Dorm. Her Jeepie Type is complicated. They have a hard time with certain things.”

  Rubric was surprised Nanny Klon would tell her this. “What kind of things?”

  “Oh, that won’t happen to Salmon Jo,” Nanny Klon said. “She has a good head on her shoulders. And she has you to look out for her!”

  “I definitely keep Salmon Jo out of trouble,” Rubric said. “Oh, I almost forgot. There was something that looked like…paper? in one of your drawers.”

  An expression Rubric couldn’t classify passed quickly across Nanny Klon’s face.

  “Who are Bloom and Shine?” Rubric asked. “Why do you have their messages?”

  Nanny Klon smiled gently. “Is that all? Why, I’m Bloom.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We Klons have names too. So we can tell each other apart. There are lots of Nanny Klons in this city, even just in this academy. How would anyone know which one was me? And don’t forget, when I was a child I wasn’t a Nanny Klon yet.”

  Rubric never saw Klon children; they were kept at their own academies. “I never thought about that before,” she said.

  “You never asked before,” Nanny Klon said. “Now, you run along. I bet Salmon Jo is pulsing you right now. You should be out enjoying yourself, not stuck with your boring, old Nanny Klon.”

  Rubric walked down the stairs, thinking about Klons having names. Some people gave individual names to their personal Klons, but Rubric had always thought it was kind of affected. Bloom and Shine were strange names. They were nouns, like a name should be, but they were also verbs, which was not normal.

  Her handheld screen pulsed in the pocket of her tunic. It was Salmon Jo, asking her to meet at the VR arcade. Rubric left the dorm and cut across the lawn in front of the stately yellow-brick building that had been her home for four years. Girls always took this shortcut, and the grass had worn away. Everything about the campus—the seven dormitories, the centuries-old classroom buildings, the refectory, the ivy-covered library—was so familiar to her, that looking around gave her a tired feeling. She couldn’t wait until she was matched with her mentor and allowed to leave campus and roam the city whenever she wanted.

  A Gardener Klon had parked her tiny electric car by the main green and was pulling out rakes. Rubric realized something was still nagging her about her conversation with Nanny Klon. It wasn’t until she had crossed the main green on the flagstone-tiled path that she figured it out. Nanny Klon hadn’t entirely answered her question. Who was Shine?

  The VR arcade was right behind the refectory where the girls ate all their meals. Rubric was startled to see so few people in the arcade. There were a few young kids at the driving game and the flying game. But there was no one waiting in line at Who Shall Be My Schatzie? The Game. That was only the best, most popular game ever. Then Rubric heard shouts and laughter, and she saw a crowd in the far corner where the boring educational games were. All the girls were clustered around one game, jostling each other to see. Had everyone gone veruckt?

  As Rubric got closer, the situation began to make sense. There were about thirty girls pushing and shoving to see the display. The game was called Parade of Perfection, and it was supposed to teach you about notable women of every Jeepie Type, from the earliest days of Society through the present. Ordinarily, it would be stultifyingly dull. But not the day before you were matched with your Jeepie Similar mentor! Some clever girl had realized they could use this game to figure out who they might be matched with. Rubric grinned and shook her head. She got herself a frozen lemonade from the drinks dispenser and went to join the others.

  Her friend Banner had the controls. Banner was tossing her head to get her wavy black hair out of her eyes. The display flashed dizzyingly through graphics of different Pannas who all looked kind of alike. It came to rest on one, a woman who resembled Banner but was older, sophisticated looking, and had glam black hair down to her knees.

  “I bet she’s the one!” Banner cried. “She lives in the city! Look, it says she has a pet leopard with a diamond collar!”

  Rubric tapped Banner on the shoulder.

  “Hey, Ru!” Banner said. “Guess what, that artist you keep talking about is in here!” She manipulated the controls and whizzed through the menus until she came to a graphic of Panna Stencil Pavlina, the sculptor Rubric was hoping would be her mentor. The older woman looked haughty and overbearing.

  “This is what she looked like when she was in academy,” Banner said, clicking on something. Another graphic leapt to the front, and Rubric caught her breath. Except for the fact that Stencil Pavlina was wearing the uniform tunic of a different academy and a hairstyle of yesteryear, it could have been a graphic of Rubric herself. Same tall, sturdy frame. Same straight brown hair, same open and direct gaze in her hazel eyes.

  It made Rubric feel funny. She had always resented her ordinary and wholesome appearance. She wished she looked wan and temperamental. If only her Jeepie Type had pointy cheekbones and soulful coal-black eyes. But maybe Rubric would be able to change her appearance as much as Panna Stencil Pavlina had.

  “My turn!” another girl said, pushing Banner out of the way and snatching the controls. The display flickered back to the top menu, and the music changed. “You’ve been hogging it long enough.”

  Rubric couldn’t see her schatzie anywhere, bu
t she saw her friend Filigree Sue. “Where’s Salmon Jo?” Rubric asked her. It was so loud she had to shout.

  “I’m not sure,” Filigree Sue said, not flickering her gaze away from the game. “She went through that door.”

  Rubric fought her way back out of the crowd. She almost made it out unscathed, but at the last minute a girl knocked her drink onto the floor. Summoning the Klon behind the counter to clean up the mess, Rubric got another frozen lemonade and opened the door in the back.

  It was the room where all the circuit breakers and electrical things were. Salmon Jo’s toned runner’s legs were dangling out of one of the ceiling panels.

  Rubric went over and tickled her ankle.

  “Aah!” Salmon Jo shrieked. More of her slowly emerged. She jumped down, all dusty. There was some kind of gray powder in her tightly curled dark hair. Her golden eyes shone with her usual enthusiasm. “Mmm, can I have some of that?”

  Rubric surrendered her lemonade. “What’re you doing up there?”

  “It’s kind of a tunnel. I want to see where it goes, but there are so many wires in the way that it’s hard to maneuver.”

  “How can you be thinking about some tunnel at a time like this?”

  “Everyone is freaking out over nothing, and acting thicko,” Salmon Jo said. “I’m sure we’re all going to get exactly who we want. Why shouldn’t we?”

  Her complacence was half reassuring, half annoying.

  “You really think so?” Rubric asked.

  “Of course. Would you give me a boost back up? I’ll be real fast.”

  Rubric did, and Salmon Jo wriggled all the way up and disappeared. Suddenly, the cheerful music from the VR room stopped, and she heard a collective cry of dismay. Then the lights flickered out.