Maybe because they’re all things out of my control. She hadn’t chosen her name or her abilities. She hadn’t chosen to be born.
The elevator doors opened and she saw a floor monitor loitering in the hallway. His uniform was dark blue with black detailing. His boots made his steps heavy and loud. There was a stunner attached to his belt and an old-fashioned ear bud slipped over one ear. He stared at her, eyes dark and serious.
She nodded at him.
He gave her a single nod back and she walked past him.
The white hallway seemed to shine around them, the tiles glistening under the white glow of the overhead lights. They were the kind of white bulbs that were supposed to mimic sunlight and stave off depression, but the dark uniform of the monitor seemed to suck in all of the light.
Stephanie glanced at his hands as she walked past. His gloves were black and she wondered, briefly, if they made it difficult to fire his stunner, before dismissing the thought. As much as the company cared about protecting its secrets - about keeping the succubi out of the minds of the people who worked there - they cared about one thing more. And that was keeping their products under control.
She kept walking down the hall, pausing at her door to scan her wrist-band over the lock. The door gave a single beep as the lock clicked and the door slid open.
The first thing she noticed when she entered the room was the fur rug in the middle of the floor. Dr. Evans must have unpacked it for her, she thought, so she'd know that they'd decided it was okay for her to keep it.
The second thing she noticed was that all of Caroline's things were still there. Her books still lined the shelf above her bed. A purple bed spread with stars she'd drawn in marker was pulled over her bed, the corners tucked in. Her robe hung on a hook next to Stephanie’s.
She opened one of the drawers. It was filled with cosmetics, moisturizer, and hair treatments. She opened Caroline’s side of the cupboard. All of her clothes were there, except for the few items she'd packed for the outside. She hadn't packed much, excited, as they all were, at the thought of going shopping for themselves.
Stephanie sat down on her bed, legs suddenly weak and shaky.
Her bags were in the corner of the room waiting to be unpacked. Caroline’s weren’t. It was like she’d left for her placement and never came back.
Stephanie stared at Caroline’s things, trying to make sense of the room without Caroline in it.
I can’t believe she’s gone.
Chapter Twelve
Spencer Evans must have spoken to someone on her behalf. After waiting in her room for an hour, just staring at the empty space where Caroline should have been, a guard came for her.
He took her back to med-bay to a private room near where she’d been after her allergic reaction. She couldn’t believe she’d been so close without realizing it.
She entered the room, hesitantly, not sure what she expected to see.
There was a girl on the bed.
She was lying there, vacant eyes trained on the ceiling. She had Caroline’s blonde hair. Her blue eyes. Her straight nose.
But it wasn’t Caroline.
Caroline was full of energy. She was enthusiastic about everything. Her eyes darted about, shining with excitement.
She wasn’t like this.
"Is she on medication?" The door closed behind her, almost slamming in her face as she turned to ask the question.
The doctor pressed an intercom beside the door. "What?"
"What did you give her?"
"A sedative." He paused. "She seemed in danger of self-harming again."
"Again?"
He didn't answer. She wasn't sure if he’d heard her.
She took a hesitant step towards Caroline and cleared her throat.
No reaction.
"Caroline?" Tears burned at her eyes and she brushed them away angrily, not wanting them to see her cry.
"Caroline? It's me, Stephanie. Can you hear me?"
She kept staring at the ceiling.
Stephanie had thought, when Dr. Evans told her Caroline was sick, that she'd be raving. Paranoid, he'd called her. Delusions of persecution.
Stephanie had expected to find her babbling, saying that she was being haunted by demons or something.
She hadn’t expected this.
This vacant stare.
It was like she was already dead.
Stephanie moved closer, holding her breath as she listened for... something. She didn’t quite know what. Some sign that Caroline was still alive. Movement? The sound of her breath?
She made it to her side without hearing anything but the scuff of her ankle boots against the lino floor. She moved her hand in front of Caroline’s face, waving it in the air between her eyes and the ceiling.
She didn't blink.
Stephanie breathed a disappointed sigh.
Then Caroline grabbed her arm.
The movement was so sudden, Stephanie couldn't help the small scream that escaped her lips.
Caroline didn't say anything, didn't move except for where her hand gripped Stephanie’s arm, hard enough to cause a bruise. But memories poured over her. It was even worse than when Stephanie had touched Maia before she died. Worse than a wave crashing over her. It felt like Caroline was splitting her mind open and forcing herself inside.
Someone grabbed Stephanie from behind, dragging her away. She tripped over her own feet, falling backwards. Caroline’s memories faded away.
Stephanie saw someone press a hypospray against Caroline’s neck before the door closed between them.
An uneasy feeling descended over her. She suddenly knew that this was going to be the last time she ever saw Caroline again.
* * *
They took Stephanie back to her room.
Spencer Evans came a moment after they’d got there. His gloves seemed to shine a ghostly white in the overhead fluorescents.
"What happened?" he snapped.
"Caroline grabbed her. We brought her straight here."
"Has she said anything?"
"No."
"Leave us."
"But she might-"
"I said leave."
The men in lab coats and heavy gloves let go of Stephanie’s arms and she slumped to the bed. She propped her elbows on her knees and dropped her head in her hands. She was shaking. A cold sweat had started up on her skin, making the space where her forehead rested on her palms clammy.
Dr. Evans placed a gloved hand beneath her chin and tilted her head up. He shined a light in her eyes and she swatted his hand away.
“I’m fine.”
"Tell me exactly what happened."
Stephanie shuddered. "It was terrible. They had her so drugged up she could barely move. She was just staring at the ceiling - practically catatonic."
"Then she touched you?"
"Yeah." She showed him her arm. There were red marks from where Caroline’s hand had wrapped around it. It will probably be blue in the morning, she thought, feeling oddly detached, almost as though the arm belonged to someone else.
"And?"
"And those guys dragged me away."
Spencer Evans frowned down at her.
"What?"
"Don't lie to me, Stephanie."
"I'm not lying."
"She touched you. Tell me what you saw."
"I didn't see anything."
He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
Stephanie clenched her jaw. She couldn’t believe she’d ever thought Dr. Evans was on her side. He was corporation through and through, the moment in the car must have been another one of their tests.
"It must have been the sedative. I swear, I didn't see anything. It was like staring into fog."
She rubbed her forehead, feeling a tension headache coming on. She’d gotten lucky with her abnormal reaction to the drug they’d given her, the allergic response making it easier to hide Maia. She didn’t think she’d get that lucky again. She had to be flawless. Believable.
Dr. Evans gripped her shoulder and stared at her. His ice blue eyes seemed to soften for a moment and he pulled her into a hug, patting her on the back. She sobbed into his flannel shirt, gripping the edges of his lab-coat, the sturdy fabric a reminder that he wasn't really on her side. He might have felt sorry for her, but he would never go against the corporation. Not for Caroline anyway.
Eventually, Stephanie’s tears ran dry.
She pulled away from him.
His arms lingered, releasing her like he regretted it. She suddenly felt glad that he was wearing gloves and a lab-coat, so she hadn’t been able to touch him skin to skin and know what he was feeling. The look in his eyes was bad enough. He wanted her. Whatever else had been a lie, that part was true. She wondered how long he’d been looking at her like that without her noticing.
"Thanks, Uncle Spencer," she said, trying to make a joke out of it.
He ruffled her hair, the gloves squeaking. "Get some sleep, Steph. You've had a long day."
She nodded. Sleep sounded really good. But no matter how tired she was, she knew it was going to be a long time before she managed to fall asleep.
* * *
She was pacing her room late in the evening cycle, trying to wear her body out enough to make her mind stop running in circles, when a quiet knock sounded at her door.
A moment later, it opened. An older man, with glasses and brown eyes, stood in the doorway.
“Who are you?” she asked, too tired to be polite.
“My name is Dr. Volkov. I’m a psychologist.”
Great, another person to lie to.
“May I come in?” he asked.
“Sure,” she shrugged.
He entered the room, looking awkward in the confined space. He paused, looking from one bed to the other. Stephanie moved to her bunk and sat down, legs crossed. He nodded and sat down on the edge of Caroline’s bed.
His back was very straight and he had an old-fashioned tablet with a stylus for making notes.
“Do you mind if I record our conversation?”
She shrugged.
He nodded. Sat in silence. Waiting.
“I don’t know what we’re supposed to be talking about,” she said, helplessly.
“What would you like to talk about?”
“Ha. I don’t want to talk about anything. I just want to get some sleep.”
“Maybe talking about what’s on your mind will help. Or journaling.”
“What? So they can see what’s inside my mind? I thought that’s what the tests were for.... Is that why you’re here? Because I had an allergic reaction to that stuff? Trying to find out if I’m hearing voices or having hallucinations? Well, let me make it easy for you, I’m not.”
“You’re going through a difficult period of time. What’s happened to your room-mate is understandably distressing. You should be able to express your feelings without fear of censure.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that. If I feel like talking, I’ll let you know.” She stood up and went to open the door, gesturing for him to leave.
He stood up to go but paused for a moment, turning in the doorway. “You can trust me, Stephanie. I’ll be here for you when you’re ready.”
She nodded. Tried a smile. It felt pinched. She didn’t trust anyone.
“Thank you, Dr. Volkov. I’ll keep you in mind.”
He nodded and left.
She closed the door behind him.
Turned off the lights.
Lay down in bed, staring up at the darkened ceiling, and cried until she fell asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Stephanie woke to the sound of a young woman swearing.
Her eyelids fluttered open and she glanced around the room, her vision still blurry from sleep, eyes swollen from crying during the night.
She half expected to see Caroline sitting up in bed, reading one of her ancient science fiction novels, getting over excited as the captain of some space ship got himself involved in yet another scrape.
The whole integration test, her time outside the center, the news that they were losing their sanity... everything a bad dream. But instead of fading like mist, her memories of the past few days grew stronger as she blinked awake.
"Who the hell are you?" Stephanie pushed herself up, leaning on one arm as she glared at the intruder.
It was a girl, maybe thirteen years old, her body thin, face delicate, blonde curls cascading around her face like a cloud. The resemblance to Caroline was obvious and disturbing, like staring into the ghost of her past.
"I can't get this stupid poster off the freakin' wall. What the hell did she use to put it up?"
The girl dug her nails under Caroline's unicorns in space poster and pulled.
"Fuck." She drew her hand back and stuck it in her mouth. She sucked on it for a moment before pulling it out and squinting at it.
"I'll ask one more time," Stephanie said, trying to keep calm. She took a deep breath. "Who are you? And what are you doing in my room?"
"Oh, I'm Ellie," she hopped off Caroline’s bed and crossed the room. She stuck her hand out in front of Stephanie's face, expecting to shake hands.
Stephanie stared at the proffered hand in disbelief.
"I'm your new roommate," the girl said.
She wiggled her fingers in Stephanie's face and stared at her expectantly.
"No." Stephanie felt the blood drain from her face. A rushing sound filled her ears. After what she'd been through the past few days, a part of her was surprised she could still feel shocked.
"What?" the girl's hand fell back to her side and she stared at Stephanie, head cocked to the side.
"I have a roommate."
"I heard she was..." Ellie glanced around the room suspiciously and whispered the next word, "Decommissioned."
"Decommissioned?" That's what they were calling it?
Ellie nodded.
"Who are you?" Stephanie stared at the girl through narrowed eyes.
"I told you, I'm Ellie."
"No, I mean what are you?"
"Oh, I'm a succubus class, just like you."
"No, you're not. I know all the succubus class experiments. We grew up together."
Ellie laughed. "Don't be silly. I'm a succubus class genetic experiment, batch two point five."
Stephanie felt like she'd just jumped, her body feeling weightless for a second before she crashed back down to earth. They'd already made the next batch? What was all that 'back to the drawing board' stuff Spencer Evans was talking about? Ellie didn't even look that old, there was no way they could have made any significant changes since....
"How old are you?" she asked.
"Twelve." Ellie smiled. "I'm really excited that I was chosen to room with one of the older generation. It's a huge honor. And super cool that they're integrating us like this. I mean, it's sad and all, the reasons why they're doing it, but still pretty cool. It's going to be like having a real family, don't you think? Like a real older sister."
"Twelve."
Stephanie felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She fell back against the bed, her breath escaping in a low hiss on impact. She was eighteen. That left six years between batches. Batch two was eighteen, batch two point five was twelve... Was there a batch three somewhere? A group of six-year-olds running around with no idea that they had powers that were probably going to turn them into hallucinating freaks?
"I have to talk to Spencer," Stephanie struggled to stand up, her blankets tangled around her feet and she kicked at them to free herself.
"Who's Spencer? Is he your boyfriend?"
Stephanie froze. Was she that naive when she was twelve?
She turned back to Ellie. She tried to make her voice gentle when she spoke.
"We can't have boyfriends.
You know that, right?"
"Yeah... But maybe you could have a secret boyfriend." She giggled. "But I guess if you told me it wouldn't be a secret."
"I don't have a boyfriend. Even if I did, they would have chosen him for me. We're meant to be spies, Ellie. It's not like we can afford to get attached to anyone."
"Except each other."
"What?"
"It's okay if we're attached to each other, right? We're family. So, if you were dating a male succubus..." Ellie waggled her eyebrows.
Stephanie shook her head. "Just because we were made in the same lab doesn't mean we're family."
Ellie’s face fell.
Stephanie turned away, waving her hand over the door panel to key it open. She stepped through the second the door slid open, waving her hand to close it behind her. If she moved fast enough, she could almost pretend she hadn't seen the tears forming in Ellie's eyes.
* * *
"I need to speak to Spencer Evans," Stephanie said, holding on to the old-fashioned door handle to stop from flinging the door open.
Rogue Memory Page 6