“It’s a lot of information,” Arak agreed. “But hardly overpowering by cosmic standards. And you are right that dendritic arrays are important. What our central information does is reproduce the dendritic arrays on a molecular level using isomeric, double-bonded carbon atoms. It’s like a fingerprint, we call it a mindprint.”

“I’m lost,” Perry said.

“Don’t despair,” Arak encouraged. “Remember, this is just the beginning. There will be time for you to put all of this into context. Besides, our upcoming visit to the spawning center will show you what we do with the mindprint.”

“What’s in that Earth Surface Museum we passed?” Donald asked.

Arak hesitated. Donald’s question had interrupted his train of thought.

“I mean, what’s specifically on display?” Donald said. “Other than the water-soaked Corvette.”

“Many different objects,” Arak said vaguely. “A cross-section of things representing secondary human history and culture.”

“Where have they come from?” Donald asked.

“Mostly from the ocean floor,” Arak said. “Besides maritime tragedies and war, you people have been progressively and foolishly using the ocean as your garbage dump. You’d be surprised what refuse says about a culture.”

“I’d like to visit there,” Donald said.

Arak shrugged. “As you wish,” he said. “You’re the first visitor to voice such a request. Considering the wonders of Interterra that are now available to you, I’m surprised you are interested. Certainly there’s nothing in there that you are not already entirely familiar with.”

“Everybody’s different,” Donald said laconically.

A few minutes later the air taxi deposited the group at the front steps of the spawning center. It was housed in a building that resembled the Parthenon, only it was black. When Perry mentioned the resemblance, Arak told him it was again the other way around, similar to the Greek adaptation of Cerberus, since the Interterran spawning center was many millions of years old.

Like the death center, the structure was sited in a less congested section of the city. Regardless, once the secondary humans appeared, they again attracted a crowd, forcing Arak to be put to the task of maneuvering Richard and Michael inside the door and out of reach of the primary humans’ eagerly outstretched hands.

This interior was the antithesis of the death center’s. It was bright and white like the buildings at the visitors’ palace. The other difference was that many more worker clones were in evidence here, busily scurrying from place to place.

Arak hustled the group into a side room with a vast number of small stainless steel tanks that looked like miniature bioreactors to Suzanne. They were attached to each other by a complicated tangle of piping in what looked like a high-tech assembly line. The air was warm and moist. A number of worker clones were monitoring various gauges and dials.

“This is not the most interesting part,” Arak said. “But we might as well start at the beginning. These tanks hold our ovarian and testicular tissue cultures. Eggs and sperms are randomly selected and their chromosomes are scanned for molecular imperfections and then microsomally shuffled. The re-formed germ cells are then checked before allowing them to fertilize. If anyone would care to take a peek, there’s a view port available.” Arak pointed toward a binocular eyepiece along the assembly line apparatus.

Suzanne was the only one who took him up on the offer. She bent over and peered within. Inside a tiny chamber below the microscope objective she could see an oocyte being penetrated by an active sperm. The process happened rapidly. A moment later the zygote was gone, and two new gametes were injected into the chamber.

“Anybody else?” Arak asked after Suzanne straightened up.

No one moved.

“Okay,” Arak said. “Let’s move along to the gestation room and a more interesting phase.” He led the way down the length of the gamete room to a room the size of several football fields placed end to end. Within the room were numerous rows of shelves supporting countless numbers of clear spheres. Between the rows walked hundreds of worker clones checking each sphere in turn.

“My word!” Suzanne murmured as it dawned on her what she was seeing.

“The replicating zygotes coming from the fertilization process are checked again for chromosomal molecular abnormalities,” Arak explained. “Once they are determined to be free of any imperfection whatsoever, and they have reached the requisite number of cells, they are implanted into a sphere and allowed to develop.”

“Can we walk along the spheres?” Suzanne asked.

“Of course,” Arak said. “That’s why we are here, so you can see for yourselves.”

Slowly the group walked down an aisle several hundred yards long with lines of spheres on either side. Suzanne was fascinated and appalled at the same time. Each sphere contained a floating embryo of varying size and age. Plastered to the base of each sphere was an amorphous, dark purple placenta.

“This is all so artificial,” Suzanne said.

“Indeed,” Arak said.

“Is all reproduction in Interterra done by ectogenesis?” Suzanne asked.

“Absolutely,” Arak said. “Something as important as reproduction we’re not about to leave to chance.”

Suzanne stopped and looked in at an embryo no more than six inches in length. She shook her head. Its tiny arms and legs were moving as if swimming.

“Does the process trouble you?” Arak asked.

Suzanne nodded. “It’s mechanizing a process I think that’s best left to nature.”

“Nature is uncaring,” Arak said. “We can do so much better, and we care.”

Suzanne shrugged. She wasn’t about to get into an argument. She started walking again.

“These are like the spheres you guys were in,” Perry said to Richard and Michael.

“No shit!” Richard said.

“Please!” Suzanne barked irritably at Richard. “I’m getting tired of the language you fellows seem compelled to use.”

“Sorry to offend your majesty,” Richard shot back.

“These containers are similar but not the same,” Arak said quickly. The last thing he wanted was any kind of an altercation in the spawning center.

Suzanne stopped abruptly and peered into one of the spheres. She was aghast at what she saw. Inside was a child who looked at least two years old. “Why is this child still in the sphere?” she questioned.

“It’s perfectly normal,” Arak assured her.

“Normal?” Suzanne questioned. “At what age are they…” she struggled for the right word, “decanted?”

“We still say born,” Arak said. “Or, as a more technical term, we say emerge.”

“Whatever,” Suzanne said. Seeing the child imprisoned in the fluid-filled sphere made her shiver with nausea. It seemed so cold, calculating, and cruel. “At what age are the children freed?”

“Preferably not until four,” Arak said. “We wait until the brain is mature enough to receive the mindprint. We also don’t want the brain cluttered with unorganized natural input any more than necessary.”

Suzanne exchanged a look with Perry.

“Come!” Sufa called out. She beckoned them over. “There’s an emergence imminent. I’ve tried to delay it as much as possible; you’ll have to hurry.” Sufa turned and darted back in the direction she’d come.

Arak urged the group to follow with the intent of passing quickly through a room he called the imprinting room in order to get to the emergence room beyond. But Suzanne faltered on the imprinting room threshold taken aback by the spectacle.

The room was a quarter the size of the gestation room. Instead of sealed spheres with embryos the space was filled with transparent tanks containing angelic-looking four-year-olds. Each child was suspended in fluid but in a fixed position. Umbilical cords and placentas were still present despite the children’s relatively advanced ages.

“I’m not sure I want to see this,” Suzanne said as Arak gently prodded her.