“You don’t understand, Jules!”
“No, you don’t understand. I stopped calling myself Jules when I was fifteen and I’d found out what you’d done to him. I’m Julian.“
“What difference does that make?”
“It makes every difference, because I’m different! Can’t you see that? Jules Bashir died in that clinic on Jackson’s Whole! His brain was discarded as biological waste and mine was implanted in his body! I’m no more Jules Bashir than any of those Jacksonian robber barons swanning around in cloned bodies are the clones they killed and replaced! You killed him, because you were ashamed-“
“That’s not true! We were never ashamed of you. Never.”
“…that is what you took from all of this? That I thought you it was me you were-”
“You don’t know. You’ve never had a child. You don’t know what it’s like to watch your son. To watch him fall a little further behind every day. You know he’s trying, but something’s holding him back. You don’t know what it’s like to stay up every night worrying that maybe it’s your fault. Maybe you did something wrong during the pregnancy, maybe you weren’t careful enough, or maybe there’s something wrong with you. Maybe you passed on a genetic defect without even knowing it. If we’d only used a uterine replicator, done a proper gene-scan, maybe-”
“Maybe I wouldn’t exist at all and you’d have had the child you wanted right from the start! And that would probably be a better world, but that doesn’t change what happened here! The truth is, I am wearing my brother’s corpse! It doesn’t matter what you intended, it doesn’t matter if you were ashamed of him or if you didn’t know what it would mean, because Jules is dead, Mother! He died on the operating table and no-one so much as mourned him! And no amount of good intentions are going to change that fact!”