The reading had to be wrong. Dr. Nathaniel Essex had been cloning human beings since before most of the world had even realized that it was possible. Pre-dating Dolly the Sheep by ages. Yet this, his newest clone, did not behave as the others had. By now, there should have been signs of true life; unassisted heartbeat, breath sounds, and brain waves. There was nothing beyond what the machines provided.

Do what it is in your nature to do.

The final words of a woman who devoted her life to him. He hadn't really looked to see her moving past him like a ghost, both present and yet not. Still, he could remember the determination. His wife had always been a determined woman. One of the things that always fascinated him about her, the simple strength of will.

Now as he watched the lifeless clone float in the tube haloed by green, he wondered where that will to live, breathe, survive, and conquer had gone. Flat lines dominated this screen. The will to make them waver was absent.

Sitting back, he pulled out the small plugged vial that she had given him as he lay dying. Always preparing as if she had known that this was the only way the situation could resolve itself. She had undoubtedly died in her face off against Apocalypse though she had taken the ancient relic with her to the grave, but she had left behind her genetic material and even given him leave to use it. Not that he wouldn't have done so anyway.

The captured liquid gleamed shadowed rubies on the wall near his face. The computer screen illuminated a dissatisfied downturn to his lip. This should have been routine. By now, she should have been breathing without the ventilator equipped on the tank. Eyes open and aware.

She floated there, unresponsive to stimulus.

It brought to mind an idea that she had told him about once.

"There will be those that you just can't clone."

"And why would that be?" he asked.

"Because you can't clone a soul, Nathan, only a body. Some bodies won't go on without the right soul."

He had thought then that she was teasing him, knowing his general idea on the state and nature of the human soul. Whatever faith in the divine he had been party to was gone long before he met her. Yet that look in her eyes had spoken of a true seriousness. That conversation had lapsed into silence as they agreed to disagree after the fashion of some practical married couples.

Essex had disagreed with her, but now staring at the flat lines coming from his instruments, he had to reconsider that thought. This was not the first time that the cloning process had seemingly gone awry. Madelyne Pryor, Jean's clone, had behaved in much the same fashion refusing to truly live until the ousted Phoenix had brought life with it. Pity the woman had gone insane, he might have been able to learn so much about the cosmos from a creature like that, perhaps even the key to evolution that he still sought as his personal holy grail.

With slow motions, he looped the vial on its chain around his neck and crossed the room to where the body he had recreated of his wife floated lazily.

"Perhaps you were right," even though his admission seemed less than genuine, his darling would have been pleased. Any admission at all passing his lips was ample cause for celebration. "I have your body but I cannot recreate your soul."

Of those who had known her, there were quite a few (thousands even) who would find that fact worthy of applause. To bring back the woman who had intentionally engineered plagues, the most recent of which had swept across the world and nearly destroyed human civilization in its entirety; and either turned them loose or sold them to the highest bidder would strike some as callous disregard for human life. Nathaniel cared for human life when it suited him to; however, mostly he just found humans annoying. A means to an end and that was all. His wife had been so much more than that and as such she was worthy of resurrection.

He put his hand against the glass and felt the deep thrum of the artificial heartbeat as it vibrated the glass. Maybe if he gave it a little more time. Reason reasserted itself. Her physiology was a little different. Thus it stood to reason that she would be a little different to clone.

Leaving the lab, he left the light nearest to her tube on. No reason to leave her sitting in the dark.