"A child, my dear? Whatever do you mean? " Drana gestured lazily, as if nothing could have less import for her than the meaning of Jaen's statement.
"We're going to have a child, " Jaen repeated impatiently. "Dren and I. We conjoin and in the process produce a new life" .
"But is that possible? Not conjoining, of course. That's all too possible,". Drana suppressed a small giggle. "No, I mean the other thing."
"The child," insisted Jaen. "Yes, the technicians assure me it's perfectly possible. In fact, they say we've had the capability for a lot longer than most people realise. "
"But my dear, why? I mean, I realise that you and Dren have become quite serious. In fact, certain people, oh not me, of course, have said you have both become ever so slightly boring. I mean, imagine wanting to keep someone all to yourself. Why, if you and I, for example,..."
"You were asking me why Dren an I were going through with this," interrupted Jaen.
"Yes, of course, darling, I'm so sorry. Please continue." Drana put her chin on her hand in attitude of studied and not unsarcastic concentration.
"The child will have an independent gestalt intelligence that combines aspects of both mine and Dren's personalities."
"But the conjoining has that. "
"The child will eventually be separate from Dren and myself and will be permanent. "
"Oh my dear. Nothing in the World is permanent, particularly in the matters of conjoining. I should know that. And so should you. "
"You should remember, Darling, that there are some things that are still permanent, ever in the World. Life, for example, " and with that Jaen departed sharply.
"Goodness, such language you use. " , Drana murmured to herself . "Why, what with that and this child thing I could see the whole affair becoming quite fashionable. "
"Really, Jaen, I don't understand you anymore,". Drana looked on in sympathetic non-comprehension at Jaen's empty face.
"That's right, you don't understand . Dren and I were going to make a difference. We were doing something lasting, something real."
Drana shuddered. "Jaen, please. You always did have that tendency to be crude. Imagine invoking... well, the R-thing. I realise that you're upset but that's no excuse. You know nothing really lasts. And Dren will be much better off with me. . . . for a while, anyway."
Jaen had no response to this but merely stared glumly at one of Drana's home units that was restructuring a section of her privacy space.
Drana made one last effort. "You haven't completely lost Dren, you know. After all you still have the what do you call it now, the baby. That's part of her isn't it? And you."
Jaen carried on staring grimly.
"Not for much longer," she muttered to herself.
"What do you mean I can't get rid of it?" Jaen's voice was starting to rise in frustration. "It's merely a subsection of my own personality core. I get rid of personality defects and. unpleasant memories all the time. What's the difference?
"It's not quite as simple as that, M. va Croen. This sub-process was designed to be autonomous eventually. It could, in theory , become a personality core in its own right and even spin off sub-sections of itself. That was the whole point wasn't it?
"But it's part of me.
Don't I have any rights at all?
"Please don't panic, M. va Croen. You still have a number of options available. Although you have been prevented from leaving this sub- sector until the legal question has been resolved, " the lawyer gestured at the translucent forms of the injunctions surrounding Jaen. As her hand passed through them they resisted slightly, recognising the personal qualities the lawyer shared with Jaen that allowed her to see her client's restraints. The forces quickly relented when they found that the perception transfer was strictly temporary . "Nobody is certain whether or not your 'baby' as you call it is protected under the Prevention of Mortality laws." However, there is still some data space that you own that the authorities cannot deny you access to."
Jaen frowned slightly.
"I'm afraid I don't understand you."
The lawyer hesitated and looked slightly to one side. "I'm talking about your body, M. va Croen. "
The monitor flickered into life as unaccustomed routines were once more activated. For a long time now all the screen had shown was the reflection of the unconscious body intricately connected up to maintenance, diagnostic and interface technology. The screen flickered madly as personality data was downloaded. It stabilised briefly into an array of regular and irregular pulsing lines. The lines slowed down, became less regular and then flattened out. The servos moved in to tidy up.