All We See or Seem Page 4

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought!” Aaron called after his little brother. He stepped into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

  Still feeling pretty groggy, he turned on the sink and rinsed his face with a handful of the cold water, then brought another handful to his lips to wash the sticky taste from his mouth. Without thinking, he immediately reached to unplug his electric razor, but his hand was still wet, and the outlet zapped him.

  “Holy crap!” Aaron exclaimed as he jumped back and bounced lightly around the room, holding his thumb tightly. “Man! I’m like a freaking lightning rod lately!” Still nursing his frazzled thumb, he looked down to his feet at the puddle of water Bobby had left behind. “Nice, Bobby,” Aaron muttered to himself. “Such a slob.”

  He grabbed a towel hanging on the rack behind him and tossed it on the floor over the puddle, took a close look at his wounded thumb, held it to his lips a moment, and then grabbed his toothbrush, muttering choice phrases about his brother under his breath. He took the toothpaste in his good hand and turned it around to read the label. Something in his memory nagged that the striped green and white tube was vaguely familiar. He opened it and spread it on his toothbrush then stuck it in his mouth and began brushing.

  Bobby wasn’t kidding. It was nasty.

  Aaron’s heart was still beating wildly from the shock, and his taste buds were rejecting the bitter foam in his mouth. Suddenly he felt himself grow dizzy. He laid both hands on the sink to steady himself, with the toothbrush in his fist. His eyes fixed on the green and white tube, then everything went black. In the darkness flashed the face he had seen in his dream — she was laughing and holding the toothpaste out to him, like it was a joke. Something told him it was their joke, hers and his, and everything about her was familiar. Her smile. Her laugh. Her wayward auburn strands of hair framing her face. Who was she?

  ****

  Gem stood at the sink. She had returned from breakfast and was preparing for her appointment. In her hand she held a tube of toothpaste. A sad smile played on her lips as her mind replayed a memory of Gryff laughing at the look on her face from the first taste of the new toothpaste he had brought her. It had been his week for necessity delivery to the dorm. Just her luck, she had needed toothpaste. It was the same tube she now held, flattened almost to the top. She’d need a new delivery soon.

  ****

  The vision faded as quickly as it had come. Aaron came to just in time to catch himself. He shook his head fiercely and splashed more cold water in his face. The doctor had said there could be effects of post-traumatic stress, that he should record occurrences in the journal. But Aaron had thought he meant flashbacks from the accident. These dreams and images were stemming from something entirely different… something locked deep in a vaulted memory, somewhere he couldn’t access at will, but strangely, a place he desperately wanted to explore.

  He slowly lowered himself to the floor and propped himself against the pale blue wall behind him, leaning his head back and closing his eyes wearily. Should he report these episodes? Were they even worth mentioning?

  A rap on the door startled him. “Aaron? Are you about ready?”

  “Yeah, Mom. Be right out.”

  ****

  “So, who’s all coming to this thing, Mom?” Aaron asked as he unloaded the groceries from the car.

  “Oh, a few friends. You know most of them. The Bensons, the McAllisters, Todd and David, of course… a couple of others.”

  Aaron could tell she was hiding something, which could only mean one thing — Tricia.

  “Mom… you didn’t—”

  “Well,” she replied with a sly smile. “I didn’t think it would hurt anything to invite some old friends.” Her clear green eyes did nothing to hide her mischievous intent, as they implored him to humor her just this once.

  Aaron sighed and shook his head. “You think you’re funny, I suppose,” he grunted as he lifted the last of the bags from the trunk and followed her into the house.

  “Funny? Oh no, Aaron… but I do think I’m pretty sneaky,” she teased as she began to unpack the bags and put things away. “Listen, you just be nice and sociable tonight. You’re leaving in a few days, and I won’t see you for a long time. The least you can do is humor me for a few hours. You never know what could happen!” She winked at him and handed him a jug of milk to put away.

  “Oh, all right. I’ll be nice,” he conceded as he took the milk and turned to the fridge. Then he added, “But I won’t enjoy it.”

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw the hand coming and quickly dodged Cary’s playful swat, laughing. A fancy spin move put him in perfect position to pinch her from behind. His mom squealed, and he ran to avoid her retaliating swing, sporting a smug grin and a snort of laughter.

  “Get outta here!” She grabbed a wooden mixing spoon and chased him out of the kitchen. “Yeah, run, buddy! Hey, party starts at five, boys. Be ready,” she hollered after him.

  Back upstairs, Bobby met him in the hall. He was dressed for a workout in a gray Navy t-shirt and blue shorts. “Hey, wanna shoot some hoops, Bro?”

  “You kidding me with that shirt? How did Dad even let that in the house?”

  Bobby laughed. “He was pretty ticked. You shoulda seen the shade of purple he turned — a personal record, I think. It was sick, dude! So, you in or what?”

  “What time is it?”

  “Like three, I think. We still have a couple hours. Come on, I’ll take it easy on ya.”

  “Oh, yeah. ‘Cause I was so worried. Bring your A game, loser. You couldn’t beat me if I hopped on one leg and shot with my left hand.”

  Bobby snickered. “You mean your right hand, dillweed. You trying to pull an Inigo Montoya on me? I’m your brother. I already know you’re left-handed. Nice try though.”

  For just a moment, Aaron’s confusion betrayed him in the brief hesitation.

  “You all right, dude?” Bobby laughed uneasily. “You’re acting like you have brain damage or something.”

  “Very funny. Okay, we’ll do it your way. I’ll play you right handed, then we’ll see who’s laughing. I’m gonna change. Meet ya in the driveway.”

  Bobby continued down the stairs, seemingly unaffected by the exchange. He had always been carefree and easily distracted by the prospect of playing a pickup game of anything.

  Aaron, on the other hand, was caught off guard. So, it hadn’t been a fluke after all. Before the accident he had been left-handed. The doctor had all but convinced him otherwise, that he just wasn’t remembering correctly because of the accident, he had some wires crossed or something. Aaron had been second-guessing himself on a lot of things since then, even though his military training had drilled the exact opposite into his instincts. Never second-guess your intuition. He needed to get back to that, because someone was obviously lying to him. But why?

  For now, Aaron took to the task-at-hand — beating the pants off his baby brother at hoops… right-handed.

  Bobby didn’t stand a chance.

  Chapter Eight

  Clinic-M was located on the far side of the community, opposite the dormitories. Gem had not been there before, but she had known several others who had. They never talked about their visits there, but Gem got the impression it wasn’t anything to fear.

  She stood now on the front steps of a small, blue brick building. There was a large chrome letter M on the wall to the right of the door. The front yard was immaculately landscaped, as were all the buildings in the community. There were shrubs and flowers growing in colorful elliptical patterns along the front walk of the clinic.

  When she opened the door and walked in, the desk attendant looked up vacantly. Gem saw her glance at the wall clock, then her emotionless gaze returned to Gem.

  “Gemini-Stem 6418C.” It wasn’t a question. The attendant was speaking into her monitor. Without addressing Gem, she simply pointed to the door on her right and turned back to her screen.

  Hesitation on Gem’s part would cause the at
tendant frustration and only get Gem into trouble, so she stepped through the door that had opened automatically for her, as if she felt no fear. But her heart was beating in her ears when she entered the pastel blue hallway. A fresh hint of lavender mixed with the familiar sterile odor of the repository clinic greeted her. There was a faint murmur of low voices coming from behind the door opposite where Gem entered.

  Other than the voices, no one seemed to be aware of her presence there. She waited uneasily for a moment. The attendant had announced her; maybe the clinician was waiting for her in a room. She began hesitantly walking down the hall toward the voices until the murmurs were almost audible. Male voices. Then she stopped suddenly as the voices became clear.

  “...because 6418C has exhibited symptoms of depression.”

  “Interesting. What does the plant report indicate?”

  “An emotional loss — apparently one of our recent replacements.”

  “Do we know which one? Perhaps another copy would do the trick. Do we have any ready?”

  “No. It is in production. There is a sibling stem which is almost physically identical, but she has avoided interaction.”

  “Well, for the sake of the fetus, we must keep her healthy and happy until at least the second trimester, when we’re out of danger of miscarriage.”

  “The medication has had some effect.”

  “Good. I’ll take over, then. She should be here for the initial exam. I’ll keep you posted on the progress.”

  “Excellent. It would be a shame to…”

  “To have to start over? It would be expensive, yes, but they are replaceable.”

  Rustling within the room indicated movement toward the door. Gem realized she shouldn’t be found lurking. Quickly and silently she backed down the hall to where she had entered, then stood at attention as if she had been there, out of earshot, all along. But her mind was in turmoil. They had been discussing her — of that there was no doubt. So many words that lacked meaning for her. What had they been talking about? Fetus? Second trimester? Emotional loss? Obviously, in the context of the conversation, the words had been charged with significance. But that significance was beyond Gem’s knowledge.

  “Hello. Gemini, I presume?” A pale man with silver hair approached her, breaking into Gem’s frantic, but silent, confusion.

  “Yes, sir.” Gem studied him. He was shorter than Gem and seemed soft-bodied. It was not unusual for EROMI staff clinicians to look that way, although most members of the Endfield community were trim and active. It was his eyes that drew her attention. They were like cold, gray steel — his thin colorless lips curled into a smile, but his eyes scoured her with an icy intensity that sent chills cascading down her spine.

  “Shall we?” Then with his pasty soft hand on the small of her back, he gently guided her to a room on the left. Once inside, the door slid closed and the clinician gestured with the other hand to an exam table. “If you please.” His voice was deep and seemed like warm oil, sliming its way over her mind. Gem cringed at the sound, but complied with his request to seat herself on the table. “I am Dr. Spurius.”

  Gem did not answer. It was common for the EROMI staff to prefer one-sided conversations and almost always safer to indulge them. Dr. Spurius was not an exception to the rule apparently, because he simply droned on in his oily voice as he rolled a tray of unfamiliar medical instruments to the table and prepared the usual concoction Gem had drunk many times before in the Repository. Gem traced his movements but ignored his meaningless words. He probably meant only to set her at ease, but that was impossible now.

  “Gemini, I’m going to step out to retrieve my attendant, Ms. Birger. If you would, please change into the gown there behind you. I shall return in two minutes.”

  The door slid open, and Dr. Spurius stepped into the hall. The door slid closed, and Gem changed quickly. She was ready well before the two minutes had passed and was left alone in her thoughts.

  Replaceable. That was the word they had used. It had confused her at the time, but now it was fuel for consideration. They had a use for her now, at least that’s what it sounded like, but what would happen if she couldn’t meet expectations? That must be where the “replaceable” would come in.

  As it was, there was not time to work through all the possibilities. Dr. Spurius and his attendant were at the door now, talking in hushed tones. When they walked through the door, Gem would have to put her own thoughts on hold and try to absorb as many details as possible. Maybe something would help her to unlock the mystery of what was really happening to her.

  The door slid open, and Dr. Spurius and his attendant stepped inside the room. “This is Ms. Birger, Gemini. She’ll be conducting your examination today.”

  Ms. Birger’s smile took Gem by surprise. She looked her directly in the eye, a look without irony or even a hint of apathy or disdain. Gem had seen the look before, but never in an EROMI staff person. Aria. Aria had that look.

  Here was an ally.

  Gem felt her body relax, and the difference must have been visible, because Dr. Spurius noticed immediately. “I believe you have the touch, Ms. Birger. I wasn’t having any luck at all.” The attendant patted Gem’s hand and whispered to her as she set up the heart rate monitor and readied the other equipment.

  “Don’t worry. This is easy.” Gem looked in Ms. Birger’s warm blue eyes again and believed her.

  “Do you know why you’re here, Gemini?” Dr. Spurius inquired. “Why we requested you to come?”

  “I believe it is connected to my incident report this morning.”

  “Yes. That is correct. We have a battery of tests — to determine the… stability of your health,” the doctor informed her, then to his attendant, “Ms. Birger, I will leave you to it. Alert me for the ultrasound.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “As he exited, the tension drained from Gem, and she lay back against the incline of the exam table, physically exhausted. Ms. Birger worked quietly beside her recording data from the monitors and adjusting the machines where necessary. There was an ease in her manner, though her work was executed with the usual efficiency of a technician. Gem studied her in silence.

  “I will be drawing some blood, Gemini. Would you please roll up your sleeve?”

  Gem methodically turned the sleeve up on her left arm until the vein in her elbow was exposed. So far, nothing out of the ordinary.

  Ms. Birger seemed to be studying Gem as well and looked as though she wanted to say something but remained silent while she drew Gem’s blood. Gem wanted to ask — wanted to get some answers — but questions were frowned on by the EROMI staff. Ms. Birger seemed different, but Gem couldn’t take that chance.

  “How about some static therapy, Gemini?” the attendant suggested. “I’ll put it through the overhead speakers so we can both enjoy it.” She didn’t wait for an answer but turned it on immediately and increased the volume slightly then went back to work near Gem. As she worked to detach the monitor nodes, she began to whisper almost imperceptibly without looking at Gem. “I know you heard them talking.”

  The statement brought an icy fear spreading rapidly through Gem’s extremities, and she turned her head suddenly to gauge Ms. Birger’s meaning.

  “Look back down at your hands, Gemini. We’re under observation.”

  Slowly, the realization of what Ms. Birger meant sank in, and Gem shifted her gaze back to her hands.

  “You’re worried about what you heard. I can help, but we have to be careful. This is dangerous for both of us.” She spoke so softly Gem had to strain to catch every word.

  “I know you have questions. You have been sick because they’ve assigned you a birth. Tap your hand if you understand.”

  Gem had been required to view the instructional videos last month and knew what it meant. Of course, she never imagined she would be called on to serve in that capacity. Nevertheless, Gem tapped her hand twice on her arm.

  “Good. I’m going to hand you the cup now. They must think you
drank it. You’ll be awake for your ultrasound, but you must appear to be sleeping. Can you do that?”

  Gem tapped her hand again.

  “You will be able to hear everything they say. Don’t react. I’ll explain what I can later,” Ms. Birger whispered. Turning to the table she picked up a cup and announced aloud, “All right, Gemini. We’re almost finished here. Just drink this.” She angled her body so she stood between Gem and mirror on the wall behind her, then furtively slipped an empty cup from beneath the full one and passed it to Gem.

  Gem brought the empty cup carefully to her lips and tilted her head back slowly as if she were really imbibing the familiar liquid. And it was familiar. She’d taken it many times at the Repository. It suddenly began to dawn on her. They had been causing her to sleep through the tests there — no wonder she often seemed to be stepping out of a fog when she left the clinic.

  She passed the decoy back to Ms. Birger, who slipped the full cup she had been hiding back inside the empty one and walked to the sink on the other side of the bed. With smooth motion, she turned on the water and poured the contents of the cup imperceptibly down the drain, using the running tap water to mask the sound, rinsed the cup and set it on the counter.

  When Ms. Birger turned back to Gem she said, louder than necessary, “Just lie back and relax. I’m going to step out for a moment to notify Dr. Spurius we are ready to begin the ultrasound.” She squeezed Gem’s hand and offered a reassuring smile then spun on her heel and exited the room.

  Gem had no point of reference from which to gauge how long it should take to “fall asleep”. It was better to just lie back, close her eyes, and relax quietly until they returned.

  Relax. Like that was going to happen.