rix_scaedu

“We chose Luddy to have the children to avoid this problem,” said Nyix angrily. “She’s supposed to the best gene structure of us all. Or is the problem developmental or teratogenic instead of genetic?”

“Developmental from nutritional deficiency,” replied his sibling, Crux, briskly. “Someone diverted Luddy’s vitamin supplements. Ackers’ family is just as annoyed as we are – they picked him for the same reason we picked her.”

“So, who do we have to thank for baby Sachar’s neural tube defect?” Nyix cracked his knuckles. “Is it someone I can beat up on our nephew’s behalf?”

“His other grandmother,” Crux drummed her fingers on the table. “She claims that she ‘assumed’ all the supplements in the household’s rations were for her because up until now she’s been the only reproducing female there. They went straight into her personal stash so Luddy didn’t even know they’d been delivered and so assumed she didn’t need any.” She sighed and went on, “Yes, Claril is pregnant again but Ackers, his siblings and their father are getting her checked for dementia, not that she’s co-operating.”

“Why would she?” Nyix shook his head, “That’d be an end to her citizenship privileges.”

“As opposed to losing them for deliberately sabotaging another’s pregnancy,” pointed out Crux. “They’re hoping that the examination will prove she’s got one of the environmentally caused dementias.”

“As opposed to a genetically based one or an inheritable psychopathy? I’m sure they do,” observed Nyix. “As do I for Sachar and his future siblings’ sakes. Can anything be done to help him with his current problems?”

“He’s already getting physical therapy treatments,” Crux replied. “Fogit itself is seeing him – apparently one of Ackers’ siblings, Quobar I think, pulled in some favours. Of course, Sachar’s also on the list to be considered for electronic enhancement – they’ve standard adaptations for some particular neural tube defect-caused problems.”

Nyix grunted approvingly and then ventured delicately, “One hears that a new group with biological expertise has been located. Could there be something there?”

Crux’ face shut down and she answered repressively, “I don’t know where you hear these things, Nyix, or why you think I could answer such questions if there were any truth to what you hear.”

Nyix just grinned at her and was glad he knew his sibling so well.

I wrote this to ankewehner's prompt "Patchwork Crow." It runs to 329 words.

The bird hopped across the ground, cocking its head to examine what it found as it went. Its feathers were iridescent, the black feathers shining blue, green and red where the sunlight hit them.

“I’m not sure it’s supposed to look like that,” ventured Gianni critically.

“The base material resources weren’t as comprehensive as I would have liked,” agreed Marta. “The original corvid stockholdings were extremely thorough, but that section of the storage facility was badly hit during the magnetic storms and atmospheric inversions. None of the samples appear to be intact, although Palmerstone and Ngomo are still evaluating them. My resurrections are, by necessity, chimeras. Some of the material I used,” she sighed, “wasn’t even corvid.”

“At least your choices were forced by necessity,” Gianni patted her on the shoulder consolingly. “You’ve seen what Millan did with those wrens, haven’t you?”

“Actually, I read his paper too,” Marta was suddenly all frosty, “and I went back and checked the references. That is what the males actually looked like. I think he did a remarkable job to not only resurrect them but build in the species differences as well, given what there was to work with.”

“Oh,” Gianni was suitably abashed, “I assumed that because of his own modifications he was biased towards the unnaturally gaudy. Why did he even work on them? There’s so little material.”

“He was very close to Professor Olson, and the Professor longed to see something from his personal childhood live again before he died. The wrens were the only thing that fit the bill that Millan could get permission to work with.”

As they spoke, the patchwork crow found a suitable white stone, picked it up and flew off with it.

“What does it do with those?” Gianni followed the bird’s flight with his eyes.

“I’m not sure,” admitted Marta, “but it’s documented original species behaviour, and I didn’t program any behaviours into them.”

“Aaah,” Gianni’s eyes glinted with interest, “original data implementation…”