by SF Benson
“I assure you they didn’t,” she states calmly.
Heat flushes through my body. “You’re going to get him killed.”
Taa shakes her head and says sternly, “Don’t worry about him right now. Holden’s testing you.”
I sit on the edge of the chair, contemplating her words. “Testing me how?”
“Think, dear. They’ve brought in the woman from the café. Holden let you speak with her. Where was he?”
I thought about what happened. He sent a soldier into the room with me. Holden said he’d stay in the hall.
I drop my head in my hands. It hits me like a sledgehammer between my eyes. I never told Taa about seeing Gliese.
Oh shit! Holden didn’t stay in the hall. He heard the entire conversation from surveillance.
“I told him everything he needed to know,” I say.
Taa presses her lips together. “What’s done is done. If he asks you to see her again, refuse.”
“Won’t he get suspicious?” I ask.
“Not if you distract him. Play your part, and he won’t be any wiser.” She gives me a pointed look.
If she’s suggesting what I think, it won’t happen. Not in this lifetime nor the next. “I won’t betray Zared like that.”
Taa stands. “You’re a female. Sex isn’t the only way to distract a man.”
“I don’t understand,” my voice shakes. Call it inexperience on my part.
“The man’s desperate to marry you,” she points out. “Do it. Set the date.”
“Why is he so desperate?” The question has bugged me from the moment my parents announced our match.
Taa’s brow furrows. “There’s something you need to know.”
“What?”
“He’s fulfilling an obligation to the New Order.”
“What obligation?” I ask.
Openly, she says, “Let me start from the beginning. You said you knew about Operation Restore?”
It’s the one thing my mother shared with me before her capture—human replacement cloning. She told me details about it were on that damned card. I wish to God I’d left it alone. Mom would be alive if I had. “Only some of it,” I murmur.
Taa stares at the floor. She takes a deep breath and exhales. “Operation Restore is a two-fold experiment by the government. Scientists have pondered for years about the possibility to clone humans by design.”
“Are you saying—”
She holds up her hand cutting me off. “Let me finish. We don’t have a lot of time.”
Slowly, I say, “Okay.”
“Creating the vaccine helped scientists target Creatives. They made sure only the people they felt worthy would be able to procreate. Those who didn’t measure up would be cloned.”
I rub my brow. “Why would you clone someone who wasn’t worthy?”
Taa takes a deep, steadying breath. Her eyes study me for a moment before she continues. “The scientists tampered with the DNA, extracting traits they wanted to abolish. What remained was the blueprint for perfected clones, PCs.”
Shit. Mad scientists run our country. I open my mouth to speak, and she shakes her head.
“The New Order used culled DNA to select a group of twelve children, the Helix, to be the design for the PCs. Six boys and six girls. Eleven members are in government custody. Their clones live with their families. You, my dear, are the last free, so to speak, Helix specimen.”
The butterfly warriors return along with backup, centipedes with icy feet, stampeding down my spine. “Why are they doing this?”
“Ever hear of eugenics?” she asks.
Katsuo’s research. My heart sinks. “Yeah.”
“The New Order established itself on the belief this country’s problems—crime, insanity, sexual perversion—were because of faulty genes or bad DNA. Our leaders studied eugenics. It’s been perfected with animals. They believed it would work with humans, creating a better, stronger society, and in turn, a superior country.”
Our leaders, treating citizens like specimens in a huge petri dish, troubles me. “You said I’m part of the Helix. How does that concern Holden?”
“Holden’s a government employee sworn to help in any way requested. Officials wanted you apprehended. The match accomplished it,” she says plainly.
“Apprehended?”
“Brought into the Helix program,” she says.
I frown. “How do you know this?”
She glances at the floor. “It’s in your file.”
I sag into a nearby chair and twist a lock of my hair. Incomprehensible. The New Order’s plan for replacement clones is real and it involves me… the key.
“If the marriage was just a ruse, why is he still so intent on it?” I ask.
“It began as a ruse, and then, Holden saw your picture. He desired you for himself.”
“He desired me?” Good thing I’m sitting down. I grip the chair arm.
“Yes. Holden Pratt usually gets whatever he desires, one way or another. In this scenario, he wanted you. So a modified arrest order went out, instituting a switch from New Belle Isle.”
“Switch?” I mumble.
“No time for all the details. Suffice it to say, he moved mountains to get you here,” she explains. “It’s important you go through with this farce of a marriage.”
I glare at her. “No, I won’t do it. There must be another way.”
“If you plan to leave this place alive, you’ll do it. I know someone who plays a convincing man of the cloth. Holden won’t know the difference. I’ll make the arrangements—”
The door to the suite bursts open, interrupting our conversation. Holden enters. Flakes of snow melt from his hair onto his brown suede jacket. His eyes dart between Taa and me.
“Dr. Aoki, what brings you here?” he exclaims, removing his gloves.
For the first time since my imprisonment, a smile tugs on Taa’s lips. “You’ll be pleased to know I’ve convinced our visitor to marry you as soon as possible. I’ll make all the arrangements. You’ll be married in three days.”
Holden’s lips quirk as his gaze drifts to me. “Really?”
“Yes,” I say. The lie sickens me and churns my stomach. It claws at my throat like the ultimate betrayal. I fight the urge to spit out the truth. Dishonesty is a necessity. It keeps me alive and gets me closer to my goal. “Dr. Aoki helped me see why we need to marry.”
He gives a throaty little laugh. “Perfect. See to it my bride is outfitted for the joyous event. Spare no expense. This news will thrill my parents.”
“Your parents?” I shriek. Why is he mentioning them?
“Yes. They’ll come here for the nuptials along with Uncle Richard.”
Dr. Aoki tilts her head. “Dr. Pratt, we don’t need that many witnesses. The staff here will—”
“Nonsense. Uncle Richard’s performing the ceremony,” he announces.
His words chill me to the core. My eyes dart to the door. I need to get out. Now.
“The vaccine is toxic! Protect our country!”
—A message from Citizens Against Inoculation Day
Tru
Shit!
In three days, Holden’s uncle will shackle me to… No. This isn’t happening. My eyes dart to Taa, searching for an answer to this dilemma. Run for it, my body screams. Too many frenzied thoughts race through my mind, not one of them revealing a solution.
Taa blinks, the sole acknowledgment his words stun her. “Well, then, that’s one arrangement I won’t need to handle. May I make a suggestion, Dr. Pratt?”
“By all means.” His dark, beady eyes never leave my face. My pulse races.
She squeezes my shoulder and says warmly, “Let me act as the mother of the bride. She’ll stay with me until the ceremony.”
I press a hand to my stomach. Please let him say yes.
Irritation flickers in his eyes. It’s obvious that Taa’s suggestion quashes his plans for the evening. I say a silent prayer.
Taa and I stare at Hol
den. The clock ticks loudly in the background.
Finally, Holden rubs his palms together. “Sounds like a perfect idea. Tru, be a love and go gather your things in the bathroom while I speak with Dr. Aoki.”
Thank God! I cast a brief look in her direction.
“It’s fine, dear. Be a good girl and do as Dr. Pratt asked,” she responds, her eyes turning to the bathroom door.
“Of course.” The words tumble from my mouth before I bolt from the room. I push the door closed and place my ear against it, straining to hear their muffled voices.
“Taa, what are you up to?” he asks harshly.
“I’m accomplishing what you wanted.” She pauses. “You do still want to marry her?”
“Of course, I do,” he states, in a deliberate voice.
“So what’s the problem?” she asks.
“I’m wondering what’s in it for you.”
“Maybe when she realizes she has no other choice; she’ll be more cooperative.” There’s a slight edge to Taa’s voice. “I’ve indulged you for too long.”
“You’ve indulged me?” I can hear the smile in his voice. “How so?”
“Oh come on, Pratt,” she exhales. “All of this has been about you wanting the girl. You have her. Marry her, fuck her, and get it over with. We have more important matters to attend to, and they don’t include Tru Shepard.”
I clutch my chest, fear splintering my heart. Honestly, whose side is this woman on? Cris’ words come back to me. Don’t trust anyone.
Holden’s voice softens a bit. “No other reason?”
“What other reason could I possibly have?” she asks in a weary voice. “I’m just doing my part as a loyal citizen, Dr. Pratt.”
I grip the sink and shake my head softly. Marry her, fuck her, and get it over with… Did she really say that? Three days… That’s all she gets to prove herself. One way or another, I am leaving this place. No more worrying about Zared rescuing me. This is about me and my future. No one else will decide my life for me. Never again.
Someone knocks on the door. I reach for my duffel and gather my toiletries. “Yes?”
“Sweetheart, have you finished? Dr. Aoki needs to leave now.” A vile stickiness drips from his words.
Vomit, like hot lava from a volcano, gushes from my mouth. I turn on the faucet trying to hide my retching. I rinse away the taste, take a deep breath, and open the door.
Holden leans against the wall. Irritation and impatience shine in his eyes. “What took you so long?”
“I’m not feeling well,” I say.
He grips my elbow firmly and whispers in my ear, “Be careful, my dear. If you’re planning anything, I’ll find out.”
Not if I break out first. My eyes regard his hand on my arm. “Please let go of me, sweetheart.”
Taa’s room, decorated in comforting shades of blue and cream, mirrors Holden’s. I place my duffel on a blue leather sofa.
Taa emerges from the bathroom resplendent in an elegant royal blue long tunic and a pair of matching baggy pants. On her feet are a pair of royal blue brocade and silver slippers. The woman could make wearing a paper bag look amazing.
She stretches out on the sofa, the scent of orange blossoms surrounding her, and pats the spot next to her. Instead, I sit across from her on a plush, cream-colored chair.
“I don’t bite you know,” she announces casually.
Marry her, fuck her, and get it over with. I bite the inside of my lip. “I’m not so sure of that. Why are you helping Holden?”
A vagrant smile touches her lips. “What are you talking about? I’m trying to help you.”
“I heard what you said to Holden,” I accuse.
“You should stop eavesdropping.” She crosses her legs. “I had to sound convincing to Holden. If he thought we were planning your escape, do you think you’d be here now?”
Either a nice cover-up or the truth. I don’t know. “Well, you succeeded.”
“We’ll go through the pretense of planning the ceremony.”
I tap my fingers on the chair arm. “I can’t marry him.”
“You aren’t marrying that man,” she counters. “We’ll find a way around it.”
I want to believe her, but my stomach won’t stop its constant churning. Hell, I don’t have much choice. Just keep my guard up and roll with it. “So what do we do?”
Taa shifts her position and says, “First, let me finish telling you about the Helix.”
“Did my parents know about it?” For once, I hope my parents were clueless about something.
“No. If they had, they wouldn’t have allowed the match. Holden’s parents proposed it,” she says.
“His parents know about the Twelve?”
“Yes. They made sure the match seemed fortuitous for your parents, an improvement in their lives.”
Great. Deceit follows my family like the plague. I ask the nagging question, “Why me?”
“The New Order identified traits based on sixteen personalities they wanted to breed into their Perfected Clones,” Taa explains. “They also determined which traits they wanted to get rid of. You’re a Creative. You’re also an Adventurer. Something the government doesn’t want to foster.”
“What’s an Adventurer?” I ask.
“Adventurers like to upset the norms of social convention. Not something loyal citizens to the AR should do.”
“How did they get all this information?”
“Every child born has their DNA harvested. Doctors and teachers tested you each year and gathered details regarding your abilities,” she answers.
Now the constant exams make sense. We never received our results. Instructors simply told us we performed according to standards.
Taa continues, “When your mother leaked Intrepid to the reporter, the New Order flagged your DNA as a substitute sample. When the twelfth child, a girl, died mysteriously, you became her replacement.”
I don’t know whether to be surprised or disappointed. My country considers me a lab rat. My mother endangered my life under the pretense of keeping me safe. Every adult I’m supposed to trust treats me like a game piece—trade me, use me. When the hell will people realize I’m not a pawn? When you stop acting like a victim!
Although I simmer with anger, I try to keep my voice steady. “Where are the others?”
“Preceding my faked death, the Alliance suspected New Belle Isle was a dumping ground for botched experiments,” she says.
“Botched experiments?” Using people as specimens and tossing them aside as failed research is wrong.
“Perfected Clones which don’t meet the standards. Our investigation found secret research labs throughout the AR. We’ve uncovered ninety percent of them but still haven’t found the Helix. I’m guessing they’re in the Colorado Territory.”
“Why there?”
“Before the States fell, there was a nuclear bunker in El Paso County. Your original paperwork had the EPC code. Holden intervened and you ended up here.”
“Any proof it still exists?”
“When the New Order came into power they dismantled and destroyed the bunkers,” she states. “Surveillance teams, however, detected movement in El Paso.”
Somewhere the government houses teens and studies them like test subjects. Not copacetic. Finding them and rescuing them… well, one day… First, I have to rescue myself.
“I think I understand why the Helix was created, but what’s the purpose? What did the government hope to accomplish?”
“Now you’re asking the right questions. You’ve heard of ethnic cleansing?”
“Yeah. It’s barbaric and our country doesn’t do it.”
“Didn’t do it. The vaccines are a way of cleansing the country, purifying society. The New Order wants to get rid of criminals, people of low intelligence, the handicapped, and those with sexual orientation issues. They plan to replace individuals with Perfected Clones so no one will suspect a thing.”
My mouth drops. America was once the hom
e of the free and the brave. It was a melting pot where people came for refuge from their oppressors. Now, the oppressors run the country.
“Once society has been purged,” Taa continues, “the new Order plans on replacing key officials. Their plans aren’t confined to this country. Our leaders want world domination. They believe they have all the answers to create a perfect world.”
Humph, it’s the perfect answer to creating monsters—modern day Frankensteins, mindless androids bent on destruction. What’s next? Creating people who think the way they deem fit? Frankenstein meets Stepford Wives. I can’t let this happen.
Taa saunters across the room to an antique wooden writing desk. She takes a seat and logs onto a holographic computer. “You need to see something.”
Standing beside her, I view information regarding Operation Rescue.
She taps the screen revealing a file. It details a cloning experiment. “Is this what Gabriela told you?”
“Yes.” Suddenly my heart fills with sadness. My voice cracks. “Zared, also knows about it.”
“He’s read his father’s research,” she says to herself.
“We… we both read it.” I take a deep breath.
Taa squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry about your mother. She was a special woman who shouldn’t have died like that.”
“Thanks.” I wipe my eyes. My mother was a martyr. At the time, I was too stubborn to see it. I was too stubborn to see anything beyond my own righteousness.
She swipes the screen with her hand, and files rapidly rifle across it. When the motion slows, she taps on a file. The screen displays my picture along with some data.
“Why am I on your computer?”
A smile dances on her lips. “She’s not you.”
I scratch my head. “You lost me.”
Taa turns toward me. “We call her Shara. She’s your clone and the answer to our problem.”
“Deliver us from Ebola! Support Inoculation Day!”
—An announcement from the Centers for Human Advancement