by Dawn Brazil
I turn and Brian is also watching me. His expression borders on pain, like he’s being accosted at this moment. Of course, Norman has jumped into his lap. My heart thuds in my chest until I’m confident even our neighbors can hear it. I continue walking into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.
Once inside, I breathe a sigh of relief. I wash my face, then brush my hair and teeth. As I put the cap back on the toothpaste, it feels like Leatherface has split my calf in two. I fall to the slate floor, withering in pain. The pain isn’t isolated to my legs like most times—it spreads up my arms and snakes around my skull. Leatherface has taken his chain saw and sliced my skull in half.
I need to get up from the floor. I need to go back in there and hear the rest of the story, but all I can think about is how to stop this pain.
“L,” Ian raps at the door. I slither closer, but only a fraction. Every inch of my body is consumed with pain. “Are you okay?”
“No, but talking isn’t making it better,” I croak.
I lie on the floor while my limbs are destroyed. Finally, the pain starts to subside—just barely. I tug myself up from the floor and stumble back into the room. They’re both in the same position.
Ian opens his mouth to speak. “Stop. Don’t ask me how I am. I’m not good. So, unless you know how to make the pain stop now, don’t even mention it.”
I slump back on the bed and sit cross-legged on top of my blanket, then rest my back against my padded headboard. “Alright, I want to hear the rest of this.”
Brian snorts, “No, you don’t.”
I motion for him to come and sit beside me; he shakes his head. Ian’s lips purse like he disapproves of Brian’s behavior. Brian lowers his eyes to the carpet. Does he have no hope this can be resolved in our favor? He did say he was a pessimist.
If he feels this way, maybe I should, too. I don’t know how to feel, now that I can. The only time I have a hold on these new feelings is when it concerns Brian; now he’s going to pieces on me.
Ian has no problem hopping on the end of the bed, even stretching out so he’s close to me. Brian clears his throat. Ian’s eyes shift to him, and something passes between them. He sits up with a guilty expression.
“Okay,” Ian says. “Where did I leave off?”
“You were explaining that I had to go to this universe of yours.”
“Ours,” he corrects. “We call it Remah, remember?”
“Sure. Whatever. Tell me more about this place.” Brian positions himself at the foot of the bed, but doesn’t sit on it. With a turned down mouth and cold eyes, he rests his chin on the end of my mattress.
“What do you want to know?” Ian inquires.
“If I’m from this other universe… Remah, I must get my characteristics from the people there, more specifically my emotional aptitude. I don’t want to be weird on two different universes. You said you could explain this—remember?”
“That—” he lifts his brows as if he understands and it’s nothing big at all. “—is not the same for everyone. A long time ago, women started dying, and the ones who didn’t die were infertile. For years, we didn’t have answers.
“We faced a real threat of extinction. Our scientists discovered a portion of the brain that controls emotions in the frontal lobes, the dura, was contaminated. We couldn’t remove the mutation, though. They tried, for many years. All of our women were born with it, and were dying painfully from it spreading through the rest of the body.
“So, our scientists cloned the first woman. They had already cloned animals, and the natural progression to humans wasn’t met with negativity like here on Earth. The first female cloned was a test, to determine whether scientists could clone using the DNA of another woman who had the mutation. The day it was determined that the clone didn’t have a mutation, scientists began to clone on a mass scale, but only enough women to re-populate our planet. Once the life cycle was returned to its previous pre-mutation days, and the genetic deformity was gone, they stopped mass-scale cloning.”
I interrupt him, “That doesn’t make sense. You said all researchers have dura-chip processors that are implanted onto the mutation, right?”
“Yes, correct.”
“Then how—”
“We don’t know why some women still have the mutation. All of the women of Remah who have the mutation are tracked, and some are used to clone researchers.”
“What about the emotional issues?”
“We were a non-violent people—not like the people on Earth, partly because of our advancements in science. Those advancements took a scary turn when our women started to die. Emotionally, it was too much for our people to handle.
“So, the drug used as a means to cope with the pain of losing mothers, wives, sisters… became another abnormality. No one noticed we no longer had the capacity to feel. They went on with life. It wasn’t until one of our researchers pointed this out that we recognized there was a problem.”
“The drug was eventually discontinued, but it was too late. Every generation since has been born this way—each with varying degrees of unemotional response.”
The door squeaks on its hinges as Mom pops her head in. “Hey, I know you’re studying, but my daughter might be hungry since she didn’t come down for breakfast.”
“You’re right, I hadn’t even noticed,” I say.
“I brought up a tray so you wouldn’t have to come down.” She pulls the tray out and places it on the bed beside me. It’s loaded with tuna fish sandwiches, my favorite, along with a bowl of fresh fruit, three huge brownies, and three plastic bottles of milk.
“You’re the best, Mama.”
“Thanks, Mrs. V,” Ian says. Brian gazes up from his obscure place on the floor.
“Thanks,” he says in his new small voice.
My eyes drift to him as he clenches and unclenches his jaw. Mom doesn’t ask questions about Brian’s behavior, but she wears an inquisitive expression. She shakes her head, takes one more glance at Brian, and quietly closes the door on her way out.
Ian and I sit and munch on our food. Brian doesn’t touch anything, even when I try to feed him.
“So what happens to the women who are born with the mutation?” I ask, between bites of the gooey brownie.
“They die,” he says, taking another bite of the sandwich that was supposed to be for Brian. “One out of every one-hundred women are still born with it, and doctors haven’t been able to detect the cause.”
I put down the brownie. “What you’re saying is that I’ll die if I don’t go back to Remah?”
Ian doesn’t answer straight away. He blinks a few times, like he’s trying to process the question. “Yes and no.” He takes a deep breath and glances at Brian. “L, you’re going to die either way.”
Chapter 14
I close my eyes to compose myself. My eyes travel to Brian to gauge his reaction, but his head is bowed. He still works his jaw.
I think about the irony of my life. For years, I shy away from new friendships and all manner of romantic relationships. When I finally do find a new friend and feel on the verge of something serious romantically, I’m being forced to give them up.
The universe is a diabolical Puppetmaster, a demented Jigsaw.
“But,” Ian adds, “if you choose to not go back, you’ll die faster and more painfully on Earth. If you go back to Remah, scientists ensure you’ll have no pain.”
Brian’s quiet and dismal attitude makes sense now. But I can’t gather my emotions into the knot he’s bundled his into. There’s no point in pouting, or being upset with Ian or with these people from this place I’ve never been. It’s pointless to be angry when anger won’t change our situation.
Then it hits me. Crystal. That means she has to die, too. Maybe her parents didn’t tell her because they didn’t want her to live in fear of dying. They wanted her to live a real life.
That doesn’t mean I want to go back, or that Crystal will want to go back. I don’t. “I’ll die for sure?�
�
Ian nods once.
“No one has ever lived with this?”
Brian lifts his head and peers at me for a moment. He opens his mouth like he’s about to speak, but glances at Ian, closes his mouth, and puts his chin back on the edge of the bed.
“No one passes the age of eighteen years old,” Ian states. “Well, researchers born here, that is. The Remah-born live a lot longer.”
“I only have months to live.” I’m appalled—not entirely because of the news he gave, but by my emotional response to it, and Brian’s. Even in this situation, I feel a sense of nonchalance. Like Ian didn’t tell me I’m going to die, but that someone else is going to die. My annoyance with Brian has to do with his waste of energy and time being upset. If he knew this would happen, why didn’t he say something sooner? Why wait to tell me like this?
“Believe me, if there was another way… We’re trained to not get close with our hosts. Usually, I don’t. This time…” Ian trails off, shaking his head. “I promise you won’t feel any more pain if we can get you back before the rest of the pre-disposal symptoms start.”
“What are they?”
Ian shakes his head. “You don’t want to know.”
“I’ve been having pain in my legs and back for months. Is that what you’re talking about?”
“Yeah, Chief told me about those, but these are even worse,” Ian says.
Brian sits forward. “I didn’t even put it together. You should have told me you were in that kind of pain.”
“Why would I?” I say. He looks thoughtful for a second and nods.
“How bad will it get?” I ask Ian.
He shakes his head. “You don’t want to know.”
The thought of the pain doesn’t frighten me as much as the idea of not seeing my family, or friends. The thought of my parents never knowing what happened to me. The thought of Stacey looking for me and never finding me.
“Actually, there is another way—a way that doesn’t involve you dying,” Brian says.
Chapter 15
Ian shoots him a squinted look before commenting. “I thought we weren’t going to mention that.”
Brian pulls himself up on the end of the bed. “No. I never said I wouldn’t mention it. I said I’d let you have your say before I explained my part.”
“Well, traitor, I haven't finished, then.”
Brian jumps to his feet and smashes his fist into Ian’s jaw. Ian topples over and falls from the bed. He’s to his feet and in a fighting position in a matter of seconds.
“Stop it,” I say, through gritted teeth. I glance at my bedroom door, sure my mother will come bursting through at any minute.
“You took her away from me, too. And I hate you for it.” Ian charges full-on—head bowed straight for Brian. He slams Brian into my dresser, rattling the perfume bottles and knocking a few to the carpet. Brian grunts loudly at the contact, catches Ian’s shirt in his grip, and lifts him into the air. He brings his body down onto my bed and rams his elbow into Ian’s chest. With his free hand, he punches him in the stomach so hard his whole body heaves.
Ian topples over and rolls to the floor in pain. Brian lunges back to pound him even more.
“You don’t want my parents to come in here, do you, Brian?” Neither of them look at me. Brian’s breathing like a bull ready to charge. “Stop, now.”
I wrap my arms around Brian’s waist and turn him to face me. Pulling on his chin, I get him to lower his eyes to mine. Finally, he looks at me and drops his stance. I run a finger across his protruding bottom lip. His eyes close, and mine do, too—as if this contact is more than the both of us can handle.
Brian opens his eyes and stares into mine for a few seconds before looking at Ian. He pulls away from me and sits on the floor, back in his spot. Ian crawls from the floor and sits back on the bed, holding his abdomen.
I sit in the middle of the bed and cross my legs. Brian’s desolate expression returns. I’m going to lose the only guy I’ve ever cared about. For a few minutes, no one speaks.
“What’s going to happen to the girl whose DNA gave me life? Is she going to go on living—after this is all over for me?”
“Um, no. We’ll have to dispose of both of your bodies, because they both have the dura mutation. She doesn’t have to do it now, though.”
“How did your scientists come up with all this technology in the first place?” I’m disgusted by everything he’s revealed—and a bit in awe of the advancements they’ve made.
“We learned a great deal from this Earth. Through your trials and errors, but also your triumphs,” he says.
“How? That’s not possible. The things you’re able to do… How you’re able to manipulate DNA and brain cells—humans aren't that advanced.”
“Let me correct you,” he says with a pained expression. “First, we’re also human. Not aliens from another planet. We share the same planet.”
“You’re a little sensitive about that, huh?” I crack a smile, and so does Brian. Ian doesn’t.
“Second, our race is a much more open and truthful people. Our government informs us about new discoveries. The government on Earth is corrupt and keeps secrets from its people all the time.”
I sit back on the bed and take a deep breath. “Where’s my person at back on Remah? Does she live in California, too?”
“I assume you mean your clone sister…the one whose DNA created you?” Ian says. I nod. “Her name’s Tiffany and I’m not sure where she is, but I know she’s cryogenically frozen. Has been for the past several months.”
“I don’t get why she has to die, too, right now, if women there don't have to for some time?”
“We don’t call it dying. It’s disposal.” He hunches his shoulders like that isn’t a twisted thing to say. “She’s choosing to dispose of herself early. She didn’t want to wait. It’s actually considered noble and kind. To go down with her sister.”
“Dying is what it’s called, no matter how you try and dress it up. And it all seems wrong to me.”
“I know it’s a lot to take in, L. I’m sorry if I seem insensitive about it all. I care about you and don’t want anything to happen to you, but I know there’s nothing we can do to prevent this. It’s already started. But I’ll be there with you the entire time, if that brings you any consolation.”
“You’re my friend, but you being there doesn’t make this better.”
“I understand—” Ian starts.
“Are you finished?” Brian snaps. “I’m sick of hearing your mouth.”
“Go ahead. I’m not leaving, so make sure your facts are straight.”
“You don’t even know all the facts. Your precious government isn’t as honest as you think,” Brian barks back.
“My government,” Ian says.
“Yes, think about it. All the murders. All the girls look like Liz. They aren’t cloning only what they need. They’re cloning like crazy and tossing these girls around these universes recklessly. Does that sound right to you?” Brian says.
“There has to be an explanation for that,” Ian says.
“Yeah, they’re dirty. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were the ones killing the clones,” Brian says.
We’re all quiet. I can only assume they’re both wondering about the validity of what Brian said.
“Chief, I don’t care about your conspiracy theories. I only care about facts. Fact: you and your parents are cowards, traitors—”
“Please stop,” I demand. “This is crazy, the two of you always at each other’s throats like this. It’s counter-productive and a waste of time. I don’t understand why you two can’t get along.”
“You haven't told her anything,” Ian says, looking at Brian.
“I told you I would wait, didn't I?” Brian works his jaw a few times and takes a deep breath. Ian nods, but says nothing else.
Brian still sits on the floor, with his chin propped up on the end of the bed.
“You've been waiting to tell her your p
art in this; spit it out,” Ian says. “Or I can tell her your part.”
The look on Brian’s face toward Ian leaves no room for interpretation. He will hurt him if he says another word. Ian sits back and folds his arms across his chest.
“For me, this started eleven years ago. My father was in the military, and we moved a lot,” Brian starts, in his new small voice.
Chapter 16
“It was the middle of the day in the second grade, and no one at my new school had even looked my way, until one girl walked in class. Before she sat down, she said, ‘Hey, welcome to our school.’
“Her name was Tiffany. She surprised me again by sitting beside me on the bus home.”
Where is he taking this long, drawn-out story? Stop and pay attention, Liz.
“We became quick friends. She liked to be outdoors more than any boy I knew, so it seemed natural for us to spend all this time together. When we entered junior high school, we started noticing each other more. You know we were growing up. I asked her if we could be boyfriend and girlfriend.” He stops, shakes his head, and smiles like he’s playing a memory back in his head.
Ian, obviously trying and failing to suppress a laugh, makes a weird noise. “Sorry—jeez, this is a funny story.” Brian ignores him and continues. I wish Brian would get to the point.
“Well around this same time, my parents and grandparents continually talked in whispers. I knew something had happened, and as a kid, my family didn’t think I was old enough to understand, so they kept it from me.
“Your grandparents, huh?” Ian interjects.
Brian continues as if Ian didn’t speak. “I was young, but I knew how to get information when I needed it. I went to my best friend.” He glances over at Ian. “He explained that my grandmother was due to be disposed. My father and grandfather took the news hard. Actually, much harder than is usually customary on Remah.” My brows pushed together in confusion.
“It wouldn’t be surprising here on earth,” Ian interjects. “Emotions run deep, but on Remah, most aren’t that emotional.” Ian glances at Brian, “Well, not all. Some have issues.”