All We See or Seem Page 10

  “I-I can’t remember.” Gem’s heart raced. “Most of the dreams are the same. He puts his arms around me like this.” She crossed her arms and wrapped them around herself. “It feels safe. He tells me not to forget him, and I beg him not to leave. Then he disappears.”

  “And this time? Was it the same?”

  “No.” Gem let her hand wander to her lips again. “No. This time he didn’t disappear.” Ms. Birger’s furrowed brow was etched with concern as well as something else. Something Gem didn’t recognize. A chill tip-toed down her spine.

  ****

  All his searching met frustration at every turn. The only people with clearance on the whole compound were Dr. Admatha and Dr. Izanagi. Beyond that there was little more than what Aaron could find on an outside Internet search. Of course, that served only as a challenge to test his skills.

  The morning routine with his men went smoothly enough. His lieutenant briefed him on the protocol; he posted the duty roster, and started his rounds of the compound. The alarm system had to be checked and adjusted. All of this could be done without even a measure of his concentration.

  Aaron thought of Gem. He had to see her again, to prove to himself she was real. She was the only true thought on his mind as he strode along the walkways of Endfield, scrutinizing each face for another glimpse of his dream girl. So engrossed in his thoughts was he that it took several minutes to notice Aria had slipped into step beside him. Not until her voice startled him back to reality.

  “Find what you’re looking for, major?”

  Her expressionless face was an enigma. She didn’t like him. He had received that message yesterday. Why was she testing him now?

  “What do you mean? I’m doing my rounds.”

  “Is that what you call it?” She still didn’t look at him, but kept her eyes forward as they walked. “You’re making them nervous.”

  “Who?” Aaron glanced around at the stems busy at their work. No one seemed to take notice of him at all. Not so much as a glance.

  “You’ve only been here one day, and you’re already stirring the pot.”

  Realization swept through him. Aria wasn’t referring to the clones at all. She was talking about an entirely different them.

  “What could I possibly have done in one day? I’m still learning my way around this place. What were they expecting me to do?”

  “Just be more careful, major. Their interest in you goes a little deeper than the need for a security officer.”

  “What does that mean?” he asked, turning to face her, but she was already gone.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “We brought him here in order to observe our little experiment more closely. But what we need is unquestioning loyalty from him. As far as he is concerned, his purpose is simple — provide security for the compound.”

  “It’s in his nature to investigate mysteries. He’s an intelligence officer. If you limit his security clearance, he’s going to wonder why.”

  “Set up a decoy file.”

  “It may be too late. He’s already been looking.”

  “After one day?”

  “I told you. It’s in his nature.”

  “This is your area of expertise. You deal with him.”

  “And if he wants to know what he’s protecting?”

  “He’s a soldier. He knows how to follow orders. And there’s always the staff training program. Help him to see the value of our work.”

  ****

  “You wanted to see me, Doctor Izanagi?” Aaron stepped into the doctor’s office and waited for the response.

  “Mmm. Major Jennings. Thank you. Come in. Sit down.” He was fidgety. Nervous. With a stiff gesture, he indicated the chair on the other side of his desk. Never once did he look up from the papers before him. Instinctively, Aaron knew this man was not a good liar. It would be easy to read him.

  He took the seat offered and waited quietly for the doctor to collect his thoughts, reading his every movement and mannerism.

  Doctor Izanagi cleared his throat. “I have been advised you have been trying to access the secure files, major. Did you have any luck?”

  The straightforward approach. Interesting. “No. My clearance was denied.”

  “I see. I was wondering about that. Sometimes we get so busy here… Doctor Admatha and I are the only people who can assign security clearance.” His dark eyes examined Aaron’s face as he spoke. There was a pause as if he expected Aaron to interject. “I thought he had done it. He thought I had.” Aaron nodded in understanding, but he didn’t buy it. “At any rate, I’ll have your clearance approved by this evening. In the meantime, is there anything specific I can help you locate?”

  Aaron wondered how much he should reveal about his intentions. If Doctor Izanagi was less than forthright, trust wasn’t something he could risk on the man. However, the story made sense. Perhaps a test. They undoubtedly knew he had seen his father’s clone during his tour yesterday. That would suffice for now.

  “I was wondering about my family’s stems. I know that my father has a policy on each of us. I saw his stem yesterday. In the clock tower.” Doctor Izanagi nodded, maintaining eye contact. “It made me wonder about the others. Morbid curiosity, I guess.” There. Just enough truth to be misleading.

  “I understand. I can help you with that.” The doctor picked up an electronic clipboard and passed it across the desk to Aaron. Then he punched in some information on his own keyboard.

  The clipboard in Aaron’s hands flashed to life, bringing up a series of stem files, one for each of them — age, test results, schedules, community assignments, living arrangements, and parent cell medical histories. Aaron skimmed through his family’s files until he came to his.

  In dark red letters across the top was printed the word TERMINATED. Below that were the words REPLACEMENT IN PRODUCTION in green. The blood felt like it froze in his veins. His gaze shot to Doctor Izanagi, who was watching him intently — waiting for him to come to the inevitable conclusion.

  Aaron took a slow deep breath to steady himself. “What does this mean?” He pointed to the clipboard. “Terminated? Replacement in production? This is me. This is my file.”

  “You were in an accident recently, yes?”Aaron nodded. “Your stem was used to resolve your injuries. The replacement stem is in production right now. It takes time to mature.” An awkward, lop-sided smile quirked at the doctor’s lips. “You had better be careful. You don’t want anything to happen to you before it’s ready.”

  It was a joke. Aaron didn’t laugh. “But, terminated? I was led to believe they didn’t have to do any invasive surgery. I have no scars. What could they possibly have needed that would warrant termination?”

  “I was brought in on the consultation. It’s highly technical. You will have to trust me when I say it was necessary.” More avoidance. These doctors were so arrogant. Their belief that no one else could understand the work they were doing combined with the gullible people who believed everything they were told was a dangerous recipe.

  Doctor Izanagi seemed to be studying Aaron’s expressions for signs of disbelief. Signs of anything really. Fortunately, he had an excellent poker face. “Perhaps you would like to attend some of our staff training classes. You will find out much more about what we do here.”

  “Yes. That would be interesting. Thank you,” Aaron answered. An interesting load of manure. If nothing else, he would gain some insight into how things were managed here.

  “Excellent. I’ll take care of that immediately and send you the details. Is there anything else I can help you with while you’re here, major? Any other questions?”

  He had a million questions. But he wasn’t going to ask someone he knew was going to lie. Shaking his head, he rose from the chair. “No, sir. I believe I have what I need for now.”

  The doctor stood also. “In that case, you may return to your duties. I’ll let you know when your security clearance goes through. Thank you for coming, major.” Rounding the desk, he ap
proached the door and opened it for Aaron.

  “Thank you, sir,” Aaron said and left. He needed to go for another run. But that thought made him smile.

  ****

  When Dr. Spurius checked on her for the third time that day, Gem knew something must be wrong. It was his common practice to see her only when necessary, and surely three times in one day was unnecessary, especially with Ms. Birger hovering over her like one of the hens did with her chicks down in the poultry yard.

  “Gemini,” he oozed. “You gave us quite a scare this morning. We must be certain of the stability of your health.” The timbre of his voice invoked nausea, and Gem cringed at every word.

  “Doctor,” Ms. Birger interrupted. “Her vitals have been stable for several hours. I will alert you if anything changes.” She stood by the open door as if to show him the way out.

  His steely glare drew a chill up Gem’s spine. She wished he would leave.

  Finally, he nodded and stepped toward the door.

  “I see you have the matter well in hand, Ms. Birger.” He glanced at the nurse as he continued into the hall. Gem caught the hint of a whisper as he passed the woman.

  The door slid closed behind him.

  “Sorry about that, Gemini.” Ms. Birger’s eyes held a deep sadness, more than just sympathy or understanding. Something deeper was troubling her. The anguished look mirrored the pain Gem had felt when Gryff left. But she knew she couldn’t ask. “Do you want to get some fresh air? I can grab a wheelchair. Dr. Spurius doesn’t want too much physical activity for a few days, but I can take you around the garden if you want to get out for a bit.”

  A little fresh air sounded good. Gem nodded.

  Ms. Birger stepped out briefly and returned a moment later with a wheelchair. She helped Gem maneuver into the chair, and then the two of them exited to the garden.

  Once outside, Gem relaxed. There was no one listening to their conversation out there. No one watching their every move, analyzing their behaviors. She took a deep breath and expelled it slowly through pursed lips. The hot summer breeze caught the loose strands of her hair and whipped them around her face. Gem closed her eyes as the sun filtered through the lattice-work overhead, warming her to the core. Some days the August heat could be unbearable, but here in this shaded alcove with the light wind carrying the scent of lavender across the community, Gem felt more peaceful than she had in months.

  “Are you going to tell me about it?” Ms. Birger interrupted Gem’s serenity.

  “I don’t know what happened.”

  “Nothing happened in the garden?”

  “I fell asleep… on the bench.”

  “Nothing upset you? The attendant said you seemed upset about something.”

  Gem kept silent and glanced up at the fence as they rounded the path near the bench. Ms. Birger followed her gaze and stopped pushing the wheelchair. “Tell me, Gem.” It was a whisper. When Gem glanced at Ms. Birger, she noticed the vacant sadness in her eyes.

  “It was a dream. Like the others. I was on the bench. I heard footsteps and went to the fence.” A lump rose in her throat, choking the words. “Gryff was there.” She lifted a finger toward the iron bars.

  “Gryffon? Are you certain?”

  “It was a dream. But it seemed real.” She brought her hand to her lips. “He — he put his hands through the bars and held me. And then…” Her voice trailed off. “It was a dream… wasn’t it?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Aaron hadn’t slept. For hours he lay staring at the numbers on his bedside clock. At three o’clock, he rose from his bunk and pulled on a pair of sweats, slipped on his shoes, and marched out into the quiet compound. Silently, he made his way to the recreational path, stretching his legs as he went. A good run.

  ****

  “Ms. Birger, prep the stem for the procedure. It’d like to have this resolved in time for the meeting this afternoon.”

  “Termination then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you certain? I think she’s able to sustain the pregnancy.”

  “Both Izanagi and Admatha agree with me on this, Ms. Birger. She’s too much of a risk, and her replacement is almost complete. We’re ready to move on.”

  “I see…”

  “You seem attached. You did know the plan from the beginning.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Then what is the problem?”

  “I’m just sorry to abandon the case so soon.”

  “I see. So it’s just your sense of perseverance that is offended.”

  “That must be it.”

  “What a relief. I was starting to wonder where your loyalties might lie…”

  “They’re stems, Doctor Spurius. My loyalty is to the company, not the product.”

  “Good. I’ll be ready to begin the termination procedure in twenty minutes. That should give you enough time.”

  “Will she have time to recover before the transfer to research? They’ll want her to be strong enough for their tests.”

  “A few days should be sufficient. Schedule the transport for me, would you?”

  “Yes, doctor. The stem will be ready in twenty minutes.”

  ****

  After three nights of the same routine, Aaron should have known just to stay in bed. Get some much needed rest. But there was that compulsion again. Something that just kept telling him, Tonight she’ll be there.

  As he rounded the bend, his eyes fell on the wrought iron bars. No lights shined from the garden tonight either. Aaron’s heart sank into his shoes, and he slowed to a walk, sucking in a deep breath and forcing it out in a rush through pursed lips.

  He left the path and meandered toward the fence. When he reached it, he turned around and leaned hard against it, sinking to the ground with a sigh. Propping his head on his fists, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to slip into a silent mourning.

  “Gem,” he whispered, just wanting to hear her name again. “Where are you?”

  “She’s sleeping, major.” A cold female voice startled him from his lamentation.

  Aaron glanced in the direction of the sound. A shadowed outline stood on his left a few feet away. Had the shadow been there all along?

  “Aria?”

  “Shhh. You’ll draw attention,” she warned, stepping closer to him.

  “What are you doing out here?” he whispered. It’s not like security was going to come after him. He was security. And right now, it was Aria who was breaking curfew.

  “I’ve come to talk to you.”

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “What do you mean? I’m checking the perimeter. It’s part of my job.” The irritation was evident in his voice, but the defensive tone sounded like he was hiding something, so he chose to temper it with a better excuse. “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to go for a run.”

  Aria observed him in silence. Her eyes had a way of boring into him until he felt like she was reading his mind, decoding his transparent lies. She would have made a good interrogator in his old division.

  “What are you doing out here at this hour anyway?”

  “I have to talk to you,” she insisted again.

  “Couldn’t it wait until tomorrow? You could get into trouble.”

  “Listen, major. There are a few things you need to know. A few things they neglected to tell you during orientation. And your staff training classes are nothing more than carefully designed EROMI propaganda. You’re not going to hear the truth from anyone else, and if you ask me in broad daylight, I will deny I ever said any of this.”

  “Okay,” Aaron said. “You have my attention.”

  Aria hesitated. He could see she didn’t want to tell him. Maybe she thought he wouldn’t believe her.

  “Aria. Tell me. What do I need to know? What are they hiding?”

  Another long silence. Her gaze burned into him, like she was assessing his readiness for the information. Aaron held his breath and wait
ed for her to decide, staring right back at her.

  She sighed in resignation.

  “This is very dangerous for both of us. It’s dangerous for Gem,” she whispered.

  Aaron’s heart leaped into his throat. Gem? What did Aria know about her?

  “Now,” she drew out slowly. “Now, I have your attention.”

  He nodded, stepping closer to her. “What about her?” he whispered through his teeth. “What do you know?”

  “I’ve told you before. Things aren’t as they appear. I know everything. I know Gem… and I know who you really are. Gryffon — Stem 6392C.”

  Her words shot through him like a hot knife. That wasn’t his name. Why did the deepest part of him respond like it was?

  “You’re one of them, major. You’re a stem. That’s why you recognize her. That’s why I seem familiar to you.”

  “What? Wait — what? No. I don’t believe you. I’m Aaron Jennings. My father is General Robert Jennings. My mother is Cary Jennings. If what you’re saying is true, why would I have a lifetime of memories?” He snorted in disbelief. But somewhere in the pit of his stomach, an icy realization began to filter through his veins.

  Her version would explain a lot of things. He used to be left-handed. Now he was right-handed. And the dreams… Gem’s face and voice so deeply imbedded in his memory, even though he had never met her.

  Never met her.

  His very being screamed that it wasn’t true. He did know her. He had always known her.

  But Aria’s story was impossible.

  Aaron had his memories. Childhood memories.

  “I know this is a lot to take at once.” Aria put a hand on his arm.

  Aaron could only stare at her hand and tell himself over and over, It isn’t true. It’s impossible.

  “Why are you telling me this?” He studied her face again. Everything about Aria’s composure said she was telling him the truth.

  “Gem has been selected for termination.” She hesitated as if she was waiting for the information to sink in.

  “Termination? No,” he scoffed. “I don’t believe you. Why? Why would they do that?”