Eve & Adam

Its the fate of all creators: They fall in love with their creations.

Todo el mundo tendría que tener defectos. ¿No es eso lo que nos hace interesantes? ¿No es eso lo que nos impide ser copias de carbón de los demás?

Oh, Snap," I say. "What?" "Sorry. I was flashing back to 2005.

Here's the thing: I am not beautiful. I'm pretty. I'll allow that much. Pretty. But I'm not the girl boys long for.

I have good shoulders, might as well reveal them. I know she's checking me out. Fair enough, because I'm checking her out. "Ah ahh ahhhh!" Eve cries out suddenly. She's in pain. Bad pain. so it's possible she's not really checking me out.

You like blue eyes, huh?" "Yes. I do. I like blue eyes.

The computer's password protected. I try the basics: 1,2,3,4. QWERTY. YTREWQ, which is qwerty backward. PASSWORD. A few others. Whoever uses this computer isn't quite that dumb. They are, however, dumb enough to write it down in the corner of the desk blotter.

This much I know already: When Tommy and the Big Brains, in whispered, wry asides, talk about Project 88715, they call it something else. They call it the "Adam Project.

We could do muscles first, then brains,: Aislin suggests. "It's not all genetic, you know: he would have to work out." "Make him right and I'll work him out," she says with a trace of her confident leer. "Without a brain?" She sighs. "They're better off without one.

Some other part of me is hoping Solo's returned, so I can scream at him and then, quite possibly, kiss him for several days.

Every single person I've seen in the past few days asks me about the Leg. How is it? How's the Leg? The Leg is attached. Thanks for asking. There's The Leg right there. It's on display, always outside of the sheets and blanket, although the whole thing is still so wrapped up it looks like I borrowed The Leg from some ancient Egyptian mummy. How's The Leg? It seems a bit mummyish, thanks.

It's not like I've spent my life beating he boys back with a flaming torch.

There's no hurry. I'm not a pint of half-and-half about to expire. I can wait until I meet the right person.

The best part is that you can use any number of different interfaces." Tap, tap, drag. "This one's made of Lego blocks, for younger kids. See how there's a Lego representation of the DNA?

He's here and real and beautiful and I made him beautiful. And this is why Solo would destroy my mother? Is this boy, this man, is his existence really some kind of a crime? In what mad, unholy universe could this work of art - my work of art - be a crime?

Mientras algo exista, la nada es imposible. De hecho, es la nada la que no puede persistir. La nada da paso a algo. La nada que precedió al Big Bang fue erradicada. Nada se convirtió en algo.

No es que crea que soy una especie de premio. No, espera, eso no es verdad. Sí creo que soy una especie de premio. Soy inteligente y ocasionalmente graciosa y linda. No veo porque debería pasar largas citas con un tipo que se expresa en una sola sílaba y quiere ver películas de terror.

I am too perfect for Evening," Adam volunteers. "But that's all right." He smiles shyly at Aislin. "I am not too perfect for Aislin.

I'm not a machine, Evening. I'm a man. And you made me to be free. You did that, right?" "Yes. Yes." I made him to be free? No responsibility there. Yes, I made him to be free. I wonder what else I made him to be.

Last week during Life Drawing, Ms Franklin asked me if I'd ever considered majoring in art instead of biology. I asked her for a new eraser.

I know she's checking me out. Fair enough, because I'm checking her out. "Ah ahhh ahhhh!" Eve cries out suddenly. She's in pain. Bad pain. So it's possible she's not really checking me out.

I know something must be very wrong, or just possibly very right?

There is no always," I say. "Nothing persists forever." "Nothingness persists," she says. She is testing me. "No. So long as anything exists, nothingness is impossible. In fact, it's nothingness that cannot persist. Nothingness gives way to somethingness. The nothingness that preceded the Big Bang was obliterated. Nothing became something.

No, wait, that’s not true. I do think I’m some kind of prize. I’m smart and occasionally funny and I’m pretty. I don’t see why I should spend long dates with some guy who expresses himself in single syllables and wants to go to slasher movies.

We are at a turning point of revolution species. Evolution has blindly felt its way forward , now, we, the product of evolution are taking the wheel. We soon will have the ability to design and create the new human, evolution still, but guided evolution...of course, only on computer simulation.

You sound like a college freshman taking his first philosophy class way too seriously, but that's good.