A Stand-In for Dying

by Rick Moskovitz

  46

  AS CORINNE recovered, questions began to form that nagged at her attention. The memory of her rescuer’s touch remained vivid. When had she felt it before, and where? The answer was almost palpable like a word balancing just at the tip of the tongue, but not quite articulated. She tried discussing it with Photina, but on this subject Photina was uncharacteristically evasive and provided no clues.

  Another recent surreal experience floated around the edges of Corinne’s awareness. She suspected that they were somehow connected, but had no idea how: Marcus’s odd behavior the morning after the speech with the President...and the familiarity of the rescuer’s touch. None of it seemed to make sense. And yet, there was a symmetry to it all that was compelling.

  As her memory cleared, Corinne kept returning to the scene of the fire for any missing clues. It was hard to distinguish the dreamlike images of her delirium from the real events of that morning. Right after the explosion, she felt suddenly at peace, standing in a dark tunnel, bathed in silence, looking at a dazzling light at the end of the tunnel. The radiance coming from the light felt like love and she found herself moving toward it without hesitation.

  Then it felt like something shoved her back. Her chest filled with pressure. The tunnel vanished and she could see the sky above her. A shadow blocked out the sky and soft lips touched hers in a tender, fleeting kiss...Marcus’s lips...Marcus’s kiss. The next thing she remembered was awakening in the hospital. Had she imagined the kiss? Was it part of a dream? It had felt so real, so loving and safe. But she’d left Marcus behind in the burning house.

  When Corinne got to their temporary home the next morning, the first thing she did was shower off the remaining traces of soot and the smell of the hospital. The apartment’s shower was the conventional type, not the water sparing type to which she’d been accustomed and which left her body slick and dry. She stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. Once dry, she stood naked before the full-length mirror.

  As she assessed the scorches on her body, she noticed again the subtle signs that her body was aging. The creases under her breasts were now a little more pronounced as were the indentations from her nose to the corners of her mouth. The delicate lines around the corners of her eyes seemed to have sprouted more branches.

  She didn’t hear Ray walk into the room until he gently touched her shoulder. She turned to face him. He was smiling.

  “Good morning,” he said. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  “Good Morning, Marc. It’s good to be home.”

  He was still smiling. But he had neither fine lines at the corners of his eyes nor deepening creases around his mouth like hers. In fact, she still saw no signs at all of the passage of time on his face or body. She was continuing to age and leaving him behind. Another piece of the puzzle.

  Ray leaned over to kiss her. She instinctively turned her face away. She felt a wrenching sensation in the pit of her stomach.

  “Not now, Marcus,” she said. “I’m still a little shaken from the fire.”

  Ray looked into her eyes as if searching for her thoughts.

  “I have to go to work,” he said. “Then I might have to go on a trip.”

  “A trip? So soon after the...accident?” But as she said the words, she realized that she would be relieved for him to leave. She needed time to think, to find more pieces and solve the puzzle. It was becoming clearer. The redhead, Terra, was part of the puzzle. And the Ambrosia Conversion...the arguments they’d had years ago about them both undergoing it. She’d steadfastly refused. But Marcus had apparently already had it and had been lying to her about it the whole time.

  “And Natasha,” Corinne thought. “She has half his genes. No wonder she healed so quickly from a broken arm. Who knows what her future holds? How could he have been so rash and so selfish?”

  But the Conversion was just part of the picture that was forming before her. It was the background, the edges and corners of the puzzle. What was starting to take shape in its center was even more astonishing and alarming. The man whose bed she’d shared for who knows how long looked like her husband, but might, in fact, be a total stranger. And the man in a stranger’s body who’d rescued her from the fire might be her husband Marcus.

  “Photina!” Corinne called after Ray had left. “Please come here now. We need to talk.”

  Photina appeared in the doorway.

  “Is there something you’re keeping from me?” asked Corinne.

  “Yes,” answered Photina. Parts of her program still functioned literally. She answered questions sparsely, like a skilled trial witness.

  “What is it?” asked Corinne.

  “Mr. Marcus told me not to tell you. He said it would put you in danger.”

  “I’ll take that chance, Photina. I have to know what secret you’ve been told to keep.”

  “It was the identity of the stranger who saved your life,” said Photina. “His name is Raymond Mettler.”

  Corinne felt like she’d been struck in the chest.

  “Raymond Mettler...the inventor of HibernaTurf?”

  “Yes. That is correct.”

  “Do you have any idea what he’d have been doing here?”

  “No, not exactly, but there was something I noticed about him, an odd anomaly.”

  “What was that?”

  “It was his kinetic pattern. He moved exactly like Mr. Marcus. If he was taller and thinner, it could have been him.”

  The last piece of the puzzle had dropped into place. If Corinne was ever going to see Marcus again, the real Marcus, she’d have to find Raymond Mettler. And she had no idea what she’d do when she found him.

  47

  NO SOONER HAD LENA switched on her MELD chip than she spotted the hovercraft swooping toward her over the water. She ducked behind cover and instinctively switched her chip back off. As the craft approached, she saw a woman at the helm that bore a remarkable resemblance to the SPUD she’d just left behind in the tunnel. The only difference was a small round bandage applied to the middle of her forehead. Lena concluded that she was looking at Enyo’s double, the original guard who’d been posted outside her door back home, now refurbished and hopefully an ally. But was she?

  All Lena really knew was that these two forces seemed to be fighting over her. When Terra’s security detail had first approached her at the apartment, she’d taken their word that they were there to protect her, but they never explained from whom or why they were there. Maybe there weren’t any good guys in this strange battle that seemed to be raging over her. And she had no idea whether Ray or Marcus was the main prize. There was no way to know who could be trusted. As the craft approached land, Lena slipped into the shadows of the waterfront buildings and disappeared.

  Where to next? It would be risky to return home, but for the same reason, her pursuers would hardly expect her to go there. She might find clues about what happened to Marcus. Perhaps he’d even return to the apartment once he recovered from the cyanide. It was her only chance for them to meet up without revealing her location to everyone.

  Lena wound her way among the still familiar array of buildings near the waterfront, navigating her way back toward the heart of the city. When she reached the corner of Powell and Sacramento, there was nobody near the entrance to the building. She disappeared inside. As the elevator glided upward, the pulsations in her ears reminded her of the uncertainty of what she would face when she reached the top. Her left hand found the slingshot that was still in her pocket and the fingers of her right hand closed over a round stone the size of a large marble. The elevator reached her floor and the force field containing her dissolved. She stepped out.

  An imposingly tall figure in a hooded sweatshirt stood at the door of the apartment with its back to her. The door had been damaged in the rescue, but was now shut tight against the intruder. She placed the stone in the web of the slingshot and took aim. The hooded figure whirled around. Lena caught herself just in time, lowered her weapon, and stared open-mout
hed at the intruder.

  “Ray!” Lena exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”

  “Lena,” Ray replied, stunned. “How did you know?”

  “You abandoned me Ray,” she said. “You have a hell of a nerve coming back now.”

  “I should have known you’d figure it out. You’ve always had a knack for solving mysteries.”

  “He had another stroke and nearly died. He was having trouble speaking and called me ‘Corinne.’ When he recovered and I confronted him, he came clean.”

  “It’s good to see you, Lena,” said Ray. “I’ve missed you.”

  “And yet, it’s hard to believe that that’s why you’re here.” She fixed her gaze on his clear blue eyes. “It isn’t. Is it?” she challenged.

  “No, it isn’t,” Ray replied. It would have been useless to try to lie to Lena. She could always tell just by looking at him. “I came to see Marcus. I have to talk with him. Do you know where he is?”

  “I have no idea,” said Lena. “I was kidnapped and got away. When Marcus came home, they tried to poison him with cyanide, but he was rescued. I don’t know by whom or where they took him. Why would you want to talk with him? If I were him, I’d want to kill you for what you did to him.”

  A long silence filled the space between them before Ray could respond.

  “That’s a very long story, Lena,” he said at last. “Can we go inside?”

  Lena stood before the body scanner and the battered door creaked open. They slipped inside. The door closed behind them. They could hear the wind whistling through the shattered glass wall in the next room. Upon entering the great room, the first thing to strike them was the precipitous drop at the edge of the space. Lena felt lightheaded watching Ray walk close to the brink. There were still beads of glass scattered about the room, making his footing all the more treacherous. As angry as she was at Ray, she wasn’t prepared to watch him die.

  “Please be careful,” she said. “Come back inside. You’re making me nervous.”

  When he turned around, Lena was sitting on the sofa on the opposite wall to the gaping opening. He came back inside and took a seat next to her.

  “I’m pregnant, Ray,” she blurted out. “I just found out. He doesn’t know, yet.” She wanted to hurt him. But his eyes betrayed more sorrow than anger.

  He reached out and took both her hands in his. She didn’t resist.

  “I’m really sorry, Lena,” he said. “There’s so many ways I’ve let you down.”

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she said at last, her mouth wavering between smiles and sobs. “I’ve been so scared and so alone.”

  “What happened to you?” Ray asked, looking at the bruises on her arms and her torn and soiled clothes.

  Lena told him about the guard detail at the apartment, her abduction, the attempt on Marcus’s life, and her escape from the Amazon-like SPUD who’d been left to guard her.

  “Someone firebombed our home,” Ray said, “and Marcus was there. He pulled Corinne out of the fire and saved her life.”

  “So all this is about that?” she concluded. “The people who tried to kill you and Corinne are after us, too?”

  “It would seem so,” replied Ray. “They think it was The Tribe of 23. Someone saw the man who threw the firebomb and he’s been identified as Samson, a SPUD under their control. They were after us because of Corinne and Marcus’s advocacy for SPUD rights. I’m pretty sure Samson saw him and now they’re after him for interfering with their hit.”

  Ray watched as Lena’s wheels turned. Her forefinger lay across her mouth and her thumb against her jaw for nearly half a minute before she looked at him again.

  “So who’s been trying to protect us?” she asked next. “They seem awfully invested in keeping Marcus alive. I’m guessing this has something to do with the redhead...with Terra.”

  “You’re right,” admitted Ray.

  “Then she’s on our side?” asked Lena. “She’s the good guy?”

  “I wish it was that simple,” said Ray. “Terra and her people have an agenda, which is why I need Marcus’s help.”

  The sound of the elevator stopping at their floor was barely audible in the pause between their words. Footsteps approached the door to the apartment. The door had been broken in when Marcus was rescued, leaving it compromised and visibly damaged. Would it still hold? Lena and Ray slipped behind the door to the bedroom and fell silent. With a resounding blow, the front door burst open. Then Samson was standing in the middle of the great room just a few feet away, looking all around the room. They held their breath as long as possible.

  As soon as Lena exhaled, Samson whirled and headed straight for them. Ray gambled that Samson was looking for him and would think he was alone. In one motion, he shoved Lena away from the opening and leapt out at Samson. The SPUD had superhuman strength, but Ray was exceptionally strong for a human, having the advantage of Marcus’s lifelong training and of the Conversion. He was also considerably taller than Samson.

  The struggle went on for minutes before Samson prevailed. He dragged Ray to the edge of the room and pulled him roughly to his feet by his armpits, preparing to throw him over the edge. Ray got a second wind and clamped his huge hands onto Samson’s shoulders. The two teetered on the edge of the precipice, locked in combat. Ray’s back faced Lena, his body obscuring Samson’s face.

  Lena pulled the round stone from one pocket and the slingshot from another, placed the stone in the webbing, took aim, and prayed for an opening.

  48

  BY THE TIME the hovercraft pulled up to the pier, Lena was long gone. The SPUD at the helm stepped out of the boat first, followed by Marcus, Terra, and two other members of Terra’s team. They’d traced Lena’s trajectory when she was captured before she went dark and had concluded that she was being held somewhere along that section of the waterfront.

  Marcus had insisted on going along on the search. Terra objected at first, but he argued that his presence could be valuable if Lena activated her MELD and tried to contact him.

  It didn’t take long for them to locate the tunnel. Once inside the massive gate, they saw footprints tracking in both directions across the muddy ground. The SPUD was the first to spot her clone lying inert in the shadows. She kneeled down beside her, touched her hand to her twin’s right cheek in an apparent gesture of tenderness, then ripped her face off and stomped on her head. Marcus was horrified to see such an act of naked aggression perpetrated by a SPUD no matter whose side she was on.

  There was no sign of Lena or of her other captors. If they took her with them, who was responsible for disabling the SPUD? So Lena may have escaped, but she would still be in danger from The Tribe of 23 unless they got to her first. Marcus drew hope from the possibility that she’d managed to flee.

  A more immediate problem faced them. Voices were coming from just beyond the gate. Lena’s other three captors had returned for her. Marcus and his companions were trapped like ducks in an ancient shooting gallery. They all hit the ground, rolled to the edges of the tunnel and waited.

  The huge gate creaked open. The three men were silhouetted against the sky. Terra’s team now had the advantage of darkness and surprise. The half-crazed SPUD moved first, rushing the intruders at full speed, her arms spread like wings. She took out two of them before the third, a man with reddish brown hair and beard, fired his weapon at point blank range and finished the job they’d started back at the apartment. He was able to flee before Terra’s team was upon him, and he was lost among the buildings that had earlier concealed Lena.

  Terra and her team fanned out in pursuit of Hector Lasko. Marcus took the opportunity to disappear and was long gone before Terra returned.

  Once clear of the waterfront, Marcus flagged down a taxi and headed for Sacramento and Powell on the outside chance that Lena had had the same idea. He wanted to go dark, but that would have prevented Lena from being able to contact him, so he counted on his head start to buy him time.

  When Marcus arrived at hi
s building, he had the driver stop halfway down the block on the side where the window of the apartment had been blown out. They got there just in time to see two figures teetering on the edge of the opening. They were too far away to identify either. Marcus could only see that one of them was bald and very tall and the other had a shock of ash blonde hair.

  Marcus watched one body fall from the window, arms and legs askew. Then a drone hovering below the window rose in place, scooped the falling body from the air, and sped away.