“Be glad you"re born, and not grown in the lab.”
The cane whistled through air and smashed the clone across the shoulder. The blue clone whimpered as he fell to a knee, his mouth a grim, closed line.
I whimpered with him, my game on the veranda forgotten.
The cane drew back.
I began to cry and put my arm out as if to block the blow, as the cane came down again.
Thud! and the clone grunted at the pain.
My wet-nurse put her arm around my waist to stop me from running to him. My hands out, I pushed against her with all my strength to keep the cane from striking again.
Thud! and the clone gasped aloud.
I gasped with him and found myself in the air. My wet-nurse was taking me into the house. I climbed halfway over her shoulder as the cane descended again.
Thud! and the clone cried out
