The Assumption Code

by Melodee Elliott

  “Yes. I don’t know who he is. They were lost in the tunnels.”

  “Have her followed at all times. I don’t want her falling into the wrong hands.”

  “Understood,” Loz replied.

  “One more request,” Stavon whispered to Loz. “Secure Margi’s Path,” he ordered. “As Rivner.”

  Loz nodded in acknowledgment and left the room.

  Stavon rested his attention on Rivner’s image.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Rivner. It’s time.”

  Margi heard the words and familiar giggle. She startled awake and stared at Ferli standing at the foot of her bed. For a moment, she rehearsed the timeline of the previous day, thinking that she might have forgotten a day on Earth. She should have awoken there. Instead, she was on Danu.

  Ferli’s lips were moving, but Margi was too preoccupied with her memories to comprehend. She recalled her benediction and went blank. Then, images from her tour of DanuVitro’s operations flooded her mind at once. Instantly, she darted her attention to Ferli as if she would know what she had done and what she’d seen.

  An even worse feeling came over her when she thought of her body’s fate on Earth. Was she dead? She felt dead. She should be dead, but she didn’t want to be.

  Ferli kept rambling on about the agenda for the day, and Margi finally tuned into her instruction. “I have the manuals here. Your past ten speeches are on the other disc. He wants you to study all of it by the end of the day. I’ve cleared your schedule.” Ferli deadpanned the last statement.

  “Why?” Margi asked as she sat in bed.

  “You tell me.”

  Margi visibly trembled.

  “It’s the basics again,” Ferli scoffed. “Also, your dress is being delivered for the gala tonight. Stavon will have to meet you there. He arranged a driver. I’ll be there. But I’ll be off duty.”

  Ferli handed her the discs. “I’m sure there will be more if…” Her voice trailed off. “I’ll be running a tour today. Otherwise, I’ll be available.”

  Margi acknowledged the update without question. It worked. Ferli was gone. She got herself cleaned up and began her education by placing the first disc into the viewer.

  The orientation manual told the history of DanuVitro, started by a young scientist, Stavon. He began his business with hologram technology. With the advent of new innovations, Stavon made the existing source code for interactive holograms openly available to stimulate the economy.

  Tolman had mentioned this, she remembered.

  The manual continued with the vision Stavon had of creating a better understanding of diversity by offering lifetime adventures on Meno to better understand oneself. The technology had eluded scientists until Stavon himself found the energy Path of each being, thus creating the ability to transport to another body.

  She skimmed the material where it spoke of the powerful technology combined with cloning techniques developed by his team. Together, the innovations launched DanuVitro into the planet’s largest organization in history. As of the date of writing, Stavon had undergone twenty Great Adventures and three cloned bodies. He stood as a testament to the advances and safety of the service.

  Margi read on and learned Stavon’s actual age would be any number of centuries old by Earth time. She could sense that of him, the confidence that so many years of life experience brought which had shaped him into a tycoon of unequalled success. In what way, she didn’t quite know why. A nagging thought that he was more of himself than she could ever be of herself. He had more time to cultivate his acuity for evil. She had no defense against such blatant force of will if he should direct it at her. With that thought, she felt defeated.

  Margi retreated to her closet and read through the day. She lay on her pillows with the viewer before her. She touched the screen and an image of Holan appeared. Her heart quickened. She had not seen him since the event and was avoiding any contact with him. After all, at the speaking engagement he had ignored her and their truth. He was with Stavon. Best she steel herself from him until she knew more, could do more.

  She sat upright and brought the virtual viewer closer and read. He was a mathematician who’d provided a pivotal turn in the evolution of DanuVitro by developing the ability to teleport Danu’s participants to Meno. This innovation began a new era on Danu that had accelerated society to its current prosperity.

  This was the material that would provide her the exposé she wanted if she were to return to Earth. Dr. Howard would become the most wanted man alive. Hope compelled her through the material, and she made note of each fact and figure, reciting them to perfection.

  She could only take herself back to Earth. Her soul if it were, that which Holan was able to identify. Her spirit kept each memory. She still had them, though she was in another body. She paused her reading to absorb the consideration that all she needed was herself, and that that was all that existed between time and space. Never fading, always existing. The body on Earth, with her benediction as its voice, was hopefully resting safely in her bedroom. She would need it to bring about Holan’s end. Yet she couldn’t return to her body yet, to protect it, to see it safely through another day. Like the participants who failed in their stewardship over their bodies and gave them up for another’s benefit, she felt that she had somehow failed her own body by tormenting it with Holan’s procedure. She did feel connected to it still, like a tether of thought keeping a vigil. It was there, beckoning her return.

  A soft rainbow glow enveloped the closet with an echo like that of the soft tone from a well-made bell. She rose from the pillows on the closet floor and scampered to the landing pad. A woman stood outside, holding a large package draping over both arms. The dress.

  Margi greeted her as she entered and made her way to the closet, chatting the whole way. The woman hung the package on a hook projecting from a cabinet in the middle of the room, giving it space to display. She set the shoes and hair ornament on a nearby shelf.

  “I present to your specifications,” the woman said as she turned her attention to the package and unveiled the gown, a cobalt blue as deep as the dark of night.

  Margi brushed her finger along the delicate satin as if to pet the fabric. She turned to the woman standing there with the face of satisfaction, more than a grin. “It’s beautiful. Simply beautiful.” She had no more words and stared at the dressmaker.

  The woman broke her train of thought by reaching for her arm and patting it like a mother would her child’s. “For you.”

  “Thank you.”

  The woman smiled broadly now and added, “The driver will be here soon for you,” as she made her exit.

  Margi hurried to a shower of bubbles and explored the room for Rivner’s intimate niceties, the finer wares that would have been expected of her for a gala. She looked forward to a lighthearted evening, one where she wouldn’t need to speak to a crowd in defense of DanuVitro.

  Rivner had better taste in makeup than she did and had more than the day-to-day stash she had worn so far. After she made up her face, she styled her hair in a chignon with her hair swept aside in the front. A wisp of widow’s peak emerged.

  She ventured to the closet and stepped into the dress. Its form gave way to her curves as the back sealed itself closed when she pressed the seam together.

  Her feet slid easily into the high heels that looked more like gold carnival glass but had the comfort of sneakers. She stood before the mirror. Cap sleeves graced her shoulders. The bodice displayed her décolletage with lines of fabric swooping between her bosoms to stop at the bottom of her breastbone.

  She turned to see a silky train flow from the base of her back, skimming her contours, to then trail in her wake. She had never walked with a train and took note that this was yet another new life experience she needed to master for the public eye.

  She opened the jewelry case and opted for a pair of jeweled drop earrings the same cobalt as the dress. She fastened the matching necklace that dripped the same jewels across her chest.
She removed the obstruction and was satisfied as she ran her fingers across her bare skin. It felt like her skin, not another’s.

  Margi nestled the small decorative pin into her hair, reminiscent of a crown, bedazzled in small blue jewels set in gold. She was surprised that it was so befitting of the gown and so must be worn.

  She was sweeping lipstick across her lips when she saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye. She startled. Footsteps continued down the hall, those of a long stride with a quickened, even gate. They were not Stavon’s. A doorway opened and closed, then she heard nothing.

  Her accelerated heartbeat caused her chest to heave. She had no weapon, only her social stature as wife of Stavon to protect her, and possibly that was not enough. The thumping in her chest seemed to suck the blood from her limbs, causing her to pale with fear.

  She peeked into the hallway and saw no one. She listened beyond the rumbling of her heart.

  Then, the hum of machinery came from the far end of the hall. Her knees started to give as it reminded her of the operations she had witnessed in the hidden workings of DanuVitro.

  She crept down the hall. As she neared the end, a door opened, and a man stepped through.

  She almost screamed as her body hit the wall behind her.

  “Sorry.” The man went to brace her.

  She jerked her arm from his hand. His touch was too invasive for the circumstances.

  “I’m taking you to the gala,” he said.

  She saw that the man was too scared to even help her from the wall and too afraid not to. She couldn’t help but laugh. Once started, she could not stop.

  The man stood helpless. That made her laugh even more.

  “One moment.” She made her way to her closet, giggling at herself as the blood flowed back to her extremities. She took hold of her jeweled purse and cobalt blue shawl and headed back to the man.

  He stood inside the doorway to Stavon’s garage.

  “Your choice. Stavon’s orders,” he offered.

  Margi sobered, then entered the garage to see the hover cars lined up end to end like toy cars on a shelf. She walked between them. She didn’t care if she appeared to be looking at them for the first time. She simply didn’t.

  Stavon had one for every whim, even a rose gold convertible with white leather-like seats and metallic mahogany dash. She took note.

  She stopped at one that was cast in a deep blood red with a broad white stripe along its length, and pewter metal trim. The interior was black as the devil. “This one will do.”

  The driver raised the door for her. She slid onto the velvety smooth cushion. He then took his place in the driver’s seat. He flicked switches with his fingers and touched various graphics. The engine rumbled. The car doors lowered as the garage wall lifted.

  She saw the glittering lights from the engine output reflect off of the other vehicles’ sheen. It reminded her of a sparkler.

  Soon, she felt the ease of levitation as they edged over the rim of the floor. The wall lowered, and they swooped into the sky. She kept her sights on the other structures and to keep from flinching with disorientation.

  Her attention drifted to her driver who managed his controls effortlessly and nimbly as he merged with the stream of others. She took note of the actions he took when an occasional car would peel away and waver like a leaf in the calmness of an evening. He seemed to not give notice as some would float to landing pads, others would dip and spike to join other streams heading off in different directions. She barely felt the rise and fall of the hover car as he navigated his surroundings.

  Margi’s driver approached a structure and hovered their car with the others as they lined up for the drop-off. Holograms of sparkling white lights wrapped the roof’s perimeter, drawing the gala’s attendees from afar. A large purple landing pad extended from the base of the top floor. People donned in the most glorious costumes emerged from their cars, promising a fanciful affair for the evening.

  The driver landed the vehicle and escorted Margi out of her seat.

  She maneuvered her train behind her and took in her surroundings in the fresh open air. She could now see other couples milling about the vestibule as the group gradually drew itself inside. They represented the wealthy, the clients—the tenants who would live on the highest levels of the structures. They stood tall, regal in their placid grins, and when they greeted another, they would dart their gaze away. The effect was palpable, creating a horde of gawkers as it drove the other to stare, and so there one had one’s audience, being the point to the whole evening. Each attempting to make oneself interesting, and so that amusement of gaining attention had already begun. She felt tired by the time she reached Stavon.

  He was waiting inside the entry. He was the kind of man who only lived in a debutante’s dreams, as a persona crafted by a lifetime of wealth and good looks that were meant to relegate effort down to the common man. He appeared born with the ease of success. She came to him the best her knees could carry her, despite her nerves. She pretended that she was on live air, back at the station. And she was, for the role of her life. She breathed through her nose with intentional breaths and wrapped her shawl around her chest to hide her racing heart.

  He kissed her cheek. “Lovely,” he said so close to her that his breath seemed to remain there.

  “Thank you.” She placed her arm in his, ready to find what awaited her inside.

  Stavon escorted her to the ballroom, pausing to chat niceties with the others and pose for an occasional picture. The scene wasn’t too strange, after all, and she was well-schooled in such formalities.

  As they emerged into the great space, she saw that a huge number of people filled the room. The domed glass ceiling caught one moon in full, casting a softest, intimate glow on everyone. Some couples danced and appeared to truly enjoy themselves. These were clients without a concern beyond themselves. Her memory flashed back to the room full of bodies, which made the beautiful people before her appear mere animated dolls cloaked in ballroom uniforms as they lived their lives in the fantasy for a blind greed of sensation. They weren’t even on Meno. She blinked away the lapse.

  “Here,” Stavon said as he handed her a drink. She held the flute, resembling a test tube, and they proceeded. The contents soothed her nerves while the glass gave her hand something to grip rather than clinching into a fist.

  Margi gazed across the room for anything that might pique her interest.

  “Rivner,” a voice said. That voice belonged to Dr. Howard.

  She turned to him. “Doctor,” she replied before coming to her senses.

  “We owe much to Holan for his research,” Stavon interjected. “This gala is due to him in large part.”

  “We thank you,” she offered, though words did not come naturally at the moment. Holan, she thought. She envisioned taking him by the throat and throttling him. Gripping the glass gave her something else to focus on.

  “What has your work targeted here of late?” she asked.

  “Cloning technologies,” he answered as if he were discussing the fair skies of Kansas.

  Before she could speak, he asked her for a dance. He placed his hand upon her shoulder. She agreed with Stavon’s acceptance and followed along, too off-guard to do much else. He escorted her to the dance floor with his hand still anchored on her. Those hands, she’d felt before, on Earth, from Dr. Howard. But here they both were, doctor and patient, in a ballroom on the planet Danu. Yet this was Holan, not Dr. Howard. She exhaled slowly to center her thoughts.

  Music played as the lights changed hue that skipped along the surface of the coffered ceiling. She followed his lead and held a distance from him as he took hold of her waist. A repulsive feeling washed over her on multiple levels, at him having another person in his likeness destroy her life and at the man himself as he embraced her with cavalier familiarity. Her chest heaved with a sharp intake of breath.

  “I take it your life on Danu is to your liking.” He watched her as if for a reaction.
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br />   He knew. She looked him in the eye, searching him out. “Dr. Howard” was all she could manage.

  “Yes. You can call me Holan.”

  “I was trying to find you on Earth.”

  “The body is still there, resting.”

  “Are you from Earth?” The words poured forth.

  He outright laughed at her. “No, I’m from Danu. I found a clone on Earth by good fortune, a Mr. Howard, an avid technologist himself. So tricky to isolate an assumption code at such a vast distance but far easier when a clone is found. His Path was similar to mine as well, making him an easy mark.” He smirked at her. “Much like you and Rivner. So alike in body, and spirit as you call it on Earth.”

  “You murdered him, then. Why?” She loosened her grip upon his shoulder.

  “We need more participants.”

  “Is Rivner a clone or am I?” she said, daring to expose herself. Thoughts flooded at her as she attempted to make sense of his statements.

  “You are.”

  She stopped dancing momentarily and resumed before Stavon spotted her. A tremble crept over her body.

  “Now, now, Margi. These notions are not new, though you choose to see them as random genetics, what you call doppelgängers. Such tales are legend on Earth I hear, and are, of course, begun far before our time. They are planned, take root, and thrive as surely as if they had a sentient life. A body is no match for an idea. No?”

  The two of them swirled among the other couples, making her lose her thoughts before she could grasp them.

  Was the exposé to be that humans began on Earth as clones of those on Danu? And that humans would soon be inhabited by their counterparts from Danu? She couldn’t deliver that message.

  “Am I Rivner, too?” she asked.

  “Rivner is Rivner. You are you. Your bodies are alike. Surely, you’ve heard of it.” A smirk shadowed across his face.

  She had heard of it, even did a story on it once. Genetic happenstance of random similarities, she had thought at the time. Everyone had thought so. But never an exact clone. Statistically it was impossible. She felt the naivety of the human race that suggested each of them would have a unique body, something to call their own.