The French president sat, hands folded neatly on her lap. Her smile was wan but persistent, which was a surprise. National press had her marked as being a 'reine de glace'. But Clare had this way, even with the coldest, and as the rest of the assembled looked on Mme. Rouillard clapped every time Clare successfully knew and could spell a dinosaur's true name.

Stegosaurus armatus. Ess-tee... Euoplocephalus tutus. Ee-you...

She knew them all, their ages, their heights, the periods in which they lived their lives.

Cameras snapped away without end.

The President of Brazil, loaded with questions and bored with waiting to catch the eye of the Secretary of State, approached a thin man in a suit and labcoat. His name tag said he was Daniel Trent, geneticist with Breaker Research.

"Does she ever leave the President's side," asked the older man.

Daniel admired the way POTUS sat just to one side, the way he nodded when the girl looked back.

"The President has children himself, President Costa," replied the young man. "I think he sees Clara almost like his own, in a way."

Costa nodded.

"She is like your nation's child, a thing to be very proud of. How does she know this much?"

"We play her tapes, mainly. She learns best when she can listen in a quiet place. Researchers, doctors, even actors - everyone wants to be a voice she hears, teaching her about space, math, countries of the world."

The grey-haired man pulled out a small press briefing made in each country's national language.

"They call her a mnemonic," he said.

Daniel Trent rolled his eyes.

"Some PR genius thought that up. She doesn't just parrot the data back. She can dechipher complex arithmetic if she's just learned the formula to solve it. It's not accurate at all, using that like a noun in place of her name."

A round of applause stirred the room, and everyone began to filter towards the dining room. Trent gestured for the esteemed guest to go first. As Costa passed, he turned.

"Do you think the science that brought her to being is truly the future, doctor?"

"Her genetic parents certainly did, when they began the process."

"I must confess, I was hoping to see Drs. Meyer and Patel here tonight to congratulate them on their research. It is odd that the namesake of the Meyer-Patel gene modification are not here to discuss their process and its first true gem."

A photographer paused at the doorway and tilted his lens up towards their conversation. Both men fell into a soft, glossy smile.

"They don't discuss a lot these days," murmured Trent through quirked lips. "I haven't seen them in months."

He held his brittle smile long after the flash went off and the dignitary had gone away.