When his call to the Drivers went to voicemail, Jean-Claude began to worry in earnest. Something had gone seriously wrong. Not only had there been no contact with Xavier or Emma, but the link to Delphine had disappeared and he was forced to assume she had perished. His shift didn’t finish until 8 pm and by then it would be too late. He weighed up the merits of visiting the Drivers to find out more but if his movements were tracked, he could bring more trouble to the clones. He fretted, miserable, running various scenarios in his head, uncertain what to do for the best. The minutes ticked on.
He had thought that, of all of them, Xavier at least would keep in touch. He had invested so much, for so long, into preparing him for his future life that this silence felt like a desertion, almost as painful as his divorce. He had taken years to get over that rejection, but finally he’d moved on, putting all his energy into his unusual job and, more recently, the nurture of the unexpectedly sentient clones. Now it seemed it had all been in vain.
* * *
In the kitchen Kim checked the fridge, trying to work out a way to stretch a meal, planned for two, into something that would feed five.
She could hear a low murmur of conversation coming from the others in the sitting room and wondered what she was missing. It was hard to take in how much their lives had changed since her fateful decision on Thursday to order those knees.
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