For the next few months, Bradford came back to the lab several times on his own to inspect the "egg" without Heron accompanying him. Sometimes he especially planned to visit when the lab was empty besides for the monitors. He wanted to be alone when visiting. He needed to be.
The life inside the container grew only stronger and stronger each day. The child was so tiny at first, no bigger than a pea. After a few weeks however, more visible parts started to form. A head, a body, eyes, a bill, and the tiniest hint of a tail.
Each time Bradford visited, he never failed to be amazed at how much progress the child made in its growth. And each time he came, he found himself staring at the chamber for longer and longer periods of time in a careful vigil, as if making sure that nothing would happen to the child the moment he took his eyes off it.
Within just a few more short weeks, the larger parts started to differentiate and become more detailed, with feathers starting to develop around its body. The feathers were white and the bill was forming into what he knew was a duck's bill for sure. The chick was now no bigger than the size of a baseball as it floated within the liquid of its chamber in a fetal position, with multiple wires connected to its fragile body.
To the old buzzard, the clone looked more and more duck-like, and yet it looked so complacent and safe within its "egg". It had no knowledge of where it was, or what its purpose was, or why it was made. It only existed, and as long as it was fed and kept secure within the confines of its home, it was happy.
Happy. Safe. And yet here he was, creating a child out of nothing for his own deeds. He didn't want to feel like this, and yet the feeling of dread became increasingly more apparent the longer he watched the innocent child grow before his eyes. Watching through the glass, he could only see his own concerned face reflected back to him. His old, current face. But when he looked at the child's face, he saw instead the face of himself as a child in place of the unborn chick's.
He couldn't understand it. He was supposed to feel nothing for this child, indifferent. This was Scrooge McDuck's child, if he was being honest to himself. He loathed that conceited man. Why couldn't he feel the same hatred here? Instead, all he felt was…was…
"Why?" Bradford whispered to himself in realization as von Drake and his crew of scientists checked the vitals. Bradford didn't even notice them come in. "It's just a child. Nothing but a mere child. Why?"
"Hmm?" von Drake mumbled, pretending to be half-listening as he flipped through some papers on his board. "Well, what did you think a clone made from scratch would look like, huh, wise guy? What, you think I could just magically age them up? It's not as easy as making clones of you, for one thing. You already had a set base of DNA to work off of. Those clones aged up quickly within just a few days. This child, however, will be a whole new creation."
Bradford's realization suddenly came at him in full force, and a feeling of horror consumed him for a moment, but it left just as quickly as it came. He was creating a child, a new child, and for what? Nothing more than a piece of paper. The more rational part of himself reminded him of the bigger picture: to bring the world into order, to fulfill the promises he made to himself all those years ago.
And yet, he could not help but see himself in this helpless child. A child being forced to be a part of something it never asked to be in.
An unconscious hand reached out and touched the area where the child's head was located. He stroked the glass slowly with his fingers near where the child's cheeks would've been. The child seemed to come closer to him under his invisible touch.
His expression became more determined, but his eyes glistened as he held his gaze on the child. He won't let it end like this. He won't let it be treated like a science experiment. It was only a child, just as he was. And it needed to be treated as a child, deserved to be treated as a child, as he wanted to be treated when he was once as innocent.
"Having second thoughts there, Bradford?" von Drake asked with a sly smile. Bradford glanced at the Doctor critically, but his eyes softened again as they landed back on the unborn duckling. He took in a deep breath and steeled himself up.
"No," he whispered confidently. "No, I am not."