I sometimes go out onto the tidal flats to see the sunrise. Balthazar makes the mists blaze with light, and slowly the sun rises like the first tones of Strauss' poem. There is nothing around me but the mud, sand, rocks - and total light.
Of course, my younger clones don't like that I do it. They point out the dangers, the risk of getting trapped as the tide comes in, that I at least ought to bring with me someone. They completely miss the obvious - that I go there to get away from the Family. I am a loner at heart, unlike my gregarious clones who all seem to spend their time together. This is great evidence for the nature-nurture debate, I suppose.
- From the Diary of Emmanuel Stevens, 2145-2225.