Free Originator by Joel Shepherd

he won’t refuse if you tell him it’s safe.”
    â€œBut it’s not safe.” Her words didn’t quite come out right. They caught in her throat. Reichardt looked away, great discomfort on his face. “It’s never safe.”
    â€œThere is risk in all things,” Ibrahim said quietly. “But you must decide. And, if tests are to be done, you must approve them and set your own limits. It would be completely inappropriate for any institution to attempt to impose them on you. But please, consider the stakes here. In Kiril’s mind may rest the clue to how long we have left to act.”

CHAPTER FOUR
    Sandy got home in the morning. It was Saturday, so Kiril was watching kids’ shows with Svetlana, eating a breakfast they’d made together.
    â€œPancakes?” Sandy exclaimed, looking at the bowl of mixture in the kitchen.
    â€œIt’s healthy!” Svetlana insisted from the sofa.
    â€œWhat’s healthy about pancakes?” Sandy retorted, turning on the hot plate to make herself some.
    â€œWe had some fruit, too! Didn’t we, Kiri?”
    â€œUh-huh.” Kiril was too lost in his show to comment further.
    â€œDanya’s out running?” Sandy asked, pouring mixture. The hot pan sizzled.
    â€œYep. He left half an hour ago, should be back soon.”
    â€œI bet he didn’t eat pancakes.”
    â€œNo, but he told us to save him some for when he got back. So don’t eat all of it, okay?”
    â€œShush!” Kiril complained. “I’m trying to watch!”
    â€œCome on, Kiri,” Sandy told him, “talking with family’s more important than TV. If you can’t hear, use your earplugs.” But he never did. Sandy suspected it was one of those subconscious defence mechanisms that her kids had. They liked to see and hear each other, as reassurance. And then complained about the noise.
    She settled on the sofa between them with pancakes and juice, and watched TV with them. The show was a nice little thing about kids growing up as explorers on some new colonial world. All animated in kiddie style, with cool aliens, wonderful landscapes, and nice moral lessons. She wasn’t always so happy with the stuff she found them watching, but it was hard to tell a kidwho’d grown up around daily brutality that a few images on a screen would do psychological damage. Often she was astonished at how well they’d turned out, that they hadn’t just aped all the awful things they’d seen other people do. It suggested something good about fundamental human nature, in some people at least.
    Danya got back just as the show was ending, sweaty and breathing hard. “Pancakes?” he announced in disbelief, entering the kitchen. “Sandy, I can’t believe you’re eating pancakes. You’ll get fat.”
    â€œGIs,” said Sandy around a mouthful of her third pancake, “do not get fat.”
    â€œYou don’t get old either,” said Svetlana. “You’re so lucky.”
    â€œCrap, I get old.” They’d had this discussion many times before. Sandy thought Svetlana had a narrow interpretation of the concept. “I just won’t look it. Come to that, the way the age treatments are moving, neither will any of you.”
    Danya had a shower, cooked his own pancakes, and joined them. The next show was an action thing with superheroes. Sandy didn’t like that so much, but she was hardly sitting here for the TV. Kiril cuddled up, and Svetlana and Danya fired all kinds of questions at him about who the cool superheroes were, and why, and found his answers extremely amusing as only older siblings could.
    â€œCan you do that, Sandy?” Svetlana asked, as one of the characters on the screen shot lightning bolts out of his eyes.
    â€œâ€™Course I can,” said Sandy. “You saw it last week when you got dirt on the stairs.” Danya, she sensed, wanted to talk to her about