Exposed

by Maller, Andrea

  Having watched her father numerous times, Alyson punched in the access code and pushed the glass door open. The hallway was empty. The silence deafening. With every squeak of her sneakers, she felt like turning back, but didn’t. She imagined herself being in a ghost town in one of those old western shows, half expecting a tumbleweed to roll by.

  The clomping sound of a man’s footsteps broke the silence, rapidly growing in intensity. Alyson ducked into the nearest room. The moment she entered, she knew it was a huge mistake, but it was too late. Some things were better left unknown. She was about to find that out the hard way.

  Slowly, she navigated through the darkness, careful of each step she took. The only light in the room was the blue glow emanating from life size human aquariums. After reaching the center of the room, she stopped. She was surrounded by glass tanks housing several females. Females of different ages who all looked alike. Females who all looked -- like her.

  Charles entered the suspended animation lab, flicked on the light, and sucked in a deep breath. His heart pounded as sweat beads formed along his receding hairline. There in the center of the room, standing motionless, was his daughter, Alyson -- arms hanging limp at her sides, fingers trembling, feet frozen to the floor. Her eyes in a cold stare as they flicked back and forth between the glass chambers which housed the floating females.

  Alyson was oblivious to her father’s presence until the whir of a generator shattered her trance. She slowly turned her head toward the man who raised her. Her eyes fixed on his face.

  He returned her look, but said nothing. His brows arched, exacerbating the weathered lines in his ever expanding forehead. Shifting his stance, he waited for a response. An uncomfortably prolonged silence grew between them. Alyson turned her gaze to the floating bodies and back to her father’s eyes. Her bottom lip quivered as she struggled to form words.

  “What..what is this place? Why? Who are they? Why do they..why do they look..like me?

  Charles looked at Alyson without saying a word. The pink hue returning to Alyson’s cheeks, her tone changed from wounded soldier to accuser.

  “Answer me!”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Complicated? I’m standing in a room filled with floating bodies that look like a timeline of my life. And you say it’s complicated?”

  “It’s part of my research, Alyson. It’s better if you don’t know. It would be better for everyone if you could just forget what you’ve seen here.”

  “How can I possibly do that? How could you even ask me to do that? You owe me answers!”

  “You’re right. I do owe you an explanation, but it would only hurt you. Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you?”

  “Protect me? Protect me from what?”

  “From the truth and everything that goes with it.”

  “I’m almost eighteen. I can handle whatever truth it is you have to tell me.”

  “I know you think you can, but that’s only because you don’t know what it is yet. You have to trust me, Alyson. I know what’s best for you.”

  “I think I...”

  Alyson cringed, her face contorted with pain.

  “Are you having another one of those headaches?” Charles asked, leaning close to see his daughter’s strained expression.

  “Don’t try to change the subject,” Alyson demanded, her head in her hands.

  “You can barely stand. Let’s go home. You’ll take your medicine and get some rest. We can talk about what you’ve seen at another time.”

  Alyson didn’t want to concede, but she knew her father was right. She was in no condition to hear any kind of news until her headache was gone. It bordered on debilitating, occasionally leading to seizures. He led her out of the building, her head resting on his shoulder.

  When they arrived home, Alyson took her pills and went upstairs to rest. Charles checked on her, then settled into his office to figure out a plan. He had no idea what he was going to say to her. How could he possibly tell her the truth? How could he tell her what he had done in a way that wouldn’t destroy her? It wasn’t possible. He needed to keep the secret.

  Chapter Four

  Just past midnight, Alyson slowly woke from her medicated stupor. She pushed the covers off, looked at the clock flashing 12:13 and tried getting back to sleep. Twisting. Turning. Covers on. Covers off. Her body refused to settle down, her mind flooded with flashing images of floating females. She fought, but couldn’t get them out of her head.

  Restless and frustrated, she bolted out of bed, pulled on some jeans and crept quietly out of her room. From the top of the stairs, she could see her father’s balding head bobbing up and down in front of the television. He wasn’t quite asleep yet. She tiptoed into his office, retrieved his spare office key and feeling her way in the dark, climbed down the trellis outside her bedroom window.

  Alyson got into her car and gently pulled the door closed. Lucky for her, the engine was practically silent so her father didn’t hear the rev when she started it up. Needing a clear head and not wanting any distractions, the radio which was usually blaring was silent as a cemetery. When she reached the parking lot of New View Biotech, she pulled into her father’s assigned spot. He certainly wouldn’t be using it for a while. Alyson entered the building and greeted the security guards as if they were old friends. They knew her since she was a baby, so when she said she needed something from her father’s office, they didn’t question her.

  “I shouldn’t be too long,” Alyson said, turning away from the guards.

  “Take your time, Miss Pierce. We’ll keep you safe.”

  “Thank you,” Alyson said, heading down the hallway to her father’s office.

  She wasn’t really sure what she was looking for, or what she would find, but she knew she had to investigate. Alyson unlocked her father’s office with the spare key he kept hidden under his desk drawer at home. She knew he had an extra copy made in case of emergency. She never needed it before, but this qualified as an emergency.

  Once inside, she turned on the light. Her eyes scanned the room. It seemed so different at night without her father there. Sort of a cold, empty feeling.

  A weathered grey file cabinet sat in the corner of the room. Alyson rushed over and tugged the handle. Of course it was locked. She searched for the key. Charles always kept an extra key for everything. He was meticulous that way. Knowing her father, she looked under his desk drawer first. Sure enough, there was the key. In some ways, her father was very predictable. A creature of habit. Yet, she knew almost nothing about him. At least not the big stuff. At least not yet.

  Alyson unlocked the cabinet. Folder after folder she sifted through, searching, hoping to find answers to her questions. File after file she found nothing. Collapsing into the Corinthian leather chair, she leaned back, wracking her brain for ideas. Waiting for inspiration, her eyes rolled up as she stared at the tiles on the ceiling. Sighing, she leaned forward, the heel of her palms digging uncomfortably into her forehead.

  Where can it be? Where is it? Where is it? Think, Alyson. Think. If I were a secret file, where would I be? The computer! Of course! He would have stored it in an encrypted file where nobody would look for it.

  Alyson tapped the keys furiously, bypassing obstacle after obstacle. She knew every one of his codes and typed them in as quickly as the prompts popped up. She looked in site after site, file after file. Nothing. She found nothing.

  How can this be? He must have kept a file here somewhere. I know him. At least I thought I did. I’ve looked everywhere. Where else could he have put it?

  Alyson closed her eyes and waited for the throbbing to stop. Suddenly, the lights in the room seemed to be glaring in her all too sensitive green eyes. She knew she would have to quit before her headache returned. Feeling defeated, she reached under the desk to return the key to its rightful place. Her hand brushed against what felt like a small latch. Pushing the chair aside, she carefully crept beneath the mahogany desk. Sure enough, there was a latch
.

  Alyson pulled it, revealing a secret compartment which contained a plain manila envelope. Inside the envelope were five plain manila folders, each with a different name printed on the side. She read each name until finding her own. She held it up, just staring at it, afraid of what she would find. Inside this folder was eighteen years worth of secrets. Eighteen years worth of lies her father told her. The headache could wait. Alyson sat on the floor, the folder perched on her lap.

  This is it. No turning back.

  Alyson opened the folder, careful not to disturb the order of the papers inside. It wasn’t what she was expecting to see. There were some photos, but mostly just medical jargon. This was going to be more difficult than she imagined.

  The folder contained a chronicle of her medical history, documenting every headache, seizure and monthly injection. She started at the beginning, reading every footnote, every notation.

  This is very strange. The notes start with day one and continue day by day until I turned six. Then, he has weekly progress reports until... What the heck is all this? Maybe one of the other folders will make more sense?

  Alyson picked up the next folder. Cassandra Stephens.

  Stephens? Where have I heard that name?

  She opened the file. Deja vu. It also started with day one and continued day by day until she turned six. Photo after photo, she saw her own face.

  This is crazy! I know it’s not possible, but Cassandra’s pictures look just like mine. She looks exactly like me. What the heck is going on? Do I have a sister? A twin sister? Is that what all this is about? Did he give her up and just keep me? This doesn’t make any sense.”

  Alyson read the name on the next folder. Tina Mullins.

  My dad works with a Mr. Mullins. Is Tina his daughter? What is my dad involved in? What am I involved in? This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.

  Alyson’s hands trembled as she turned the pages in Tina’s folder. Again, identical information. Identical pictures. One difference. Her day-by-day ended when she went into a coma at age four. Alyson read on.

  She’s one of the floaters. She’s one of those bodies floating around in that room. They must have put her into suspended animation so they could preserve her until they figured out a way to save her. Apparently, no one figured out a way to save her yet.

  Alyson had the answer to one of her questions, but still no idea how she tied in to all of it. The next file she picked up had the name Samantha Leigh written across it. This one was very different from the others. In parentheses, next to the name, it read DONOR.

  Donor? Donor of what exactly?

  Alyson opened the file and read on.

  No, no, no, no, no. It can’t be. It just can’t be. I don’t believe it. There has to be some kind of..some kind of mistake. No. I must have read it wrong. It’s not...it’s not...possible. This would mean...I’m a...I’m a...

  Alyson dropped the file to the floor, the color draining from her face.

  This has to be a joke. Just some elaborate joke. Some crazy research scientist humor. It..it can’t be real.

  But it was real. Inside the file, it read DNA DONOR. The recipients were named: Tina Mullins, Cassandra Stephens, Alyson Pierce and Jenny. Alyson Pierce. She read the name over and over. It had to be some kind of mistake. It couldn’t be her. It just couldn’t be. But it was right there -- ALYSON PIERCE, DNA RECIPIENT. She couldn’t deny it.

  If I’m a DNA recipient, that would make me a ... a clone.

  Alyson grabbed her file, flipped it open and stared at the words before her. There it was on the first page - DNA RECIPIENT.

  How did I not see that before? How could I have missed that? It’s right there at the top of the first page. Alyson Pierce - DNA recipient. How could I not notice?

  Alyson closed the file and placed it with the others.

  I have to think. What to do? What to do? This is all just too much. It’s...it’s unreal.

  Alyson gathered all the files and neatly lined them up on the floor in front of her. She read each of the names aloud.

  Tina Mullins, Cassandra Stephens, Alyson Pierce, Samantha Leigh and Jenny. Jenny? No last name. That’s odd. Even with all this, that’s odd.

  Alyson opened Jenny’s file. Hers was the shortest. She never made it past the age of two. She was the youngest floating body in the lab.

  I need to find out more. Who is this..Samantha Leigh? Why did they clone her? Why is she being kept in a state of suspended animation? I feel like I walked into one of my movies and landed the lead role. This is all just too incredible to be true.

  Alyson looked through Samantha’s file, but it wasn’t giving her the answers she needed.

  I have to talk to my father, or whoever he is. I don’t even know who I am right now. I understand why he didn’t want me to find out about this, but why did he do it in the first place? Was it just for research? Was I just a research project for him? No, I can’t ask him. He’ll never tell me the truth. I need to find Cassandra.

  Chapter Five

  5:00 a.m., Charles heard the tumbler of the front door click. He leapt off the couch to peer through the peephole. It was Alyson. He thought she was upstairs asleep. Alyson pushed the door open slowly to find her father standing before her, his shoulders slightly hunched, eyes still glazed with sleep.

  “I’m glad you’re safe, but why did you leave the house in the middle of the night?” Charles asked, trying to ignore the vein throbbing in his head.

  Alyson flopped down on the couch, oblivious to her father’s words. She flipped through the channels searching for anything to distract her. Charles sat down beside his daughter, eager for any sign of acknowledgement.

  “I know you must be upset by what you saw yesterday. It must have been quite a shock for you.”

  Alyson remained silent. She kept flipping through the channels, not really paying much attention to what was on the screen.

  “Please speak to me, Alyson.”

  Alyson took a deep breath, leaned forward on the couch and turned to face her father. She looked in his eyes, searching for the answers to her questions. She scanned his face, once handsome, now weathered from years of hard work. Her gaze shifted to his thinning salt-and-pepper hair. She looked at this beaten down version of the man who used to give her strength and protection, no longer recognizing the person who sat before her. The one who always told her the truth, or so she thought. Who was this stranger?

  “Please, Alyson. Don’t ignore me. Please? Can we talk?”

  Alyson took another deep breath and pushed the hair from her face. Charles could see she had been crying. Her blotchy cheeks and smeared mascara complemented her state of mind. As he reached his hand out to wipe the makeup away, Alyson jumped back.

  “Now you want to talk! Now! After all these years, now you want to talk to me?”

  “Please, Alyson. Just listen.”

  Charles explained in as little detail as possible, careful not to mention anything about Cassandra. Above all else, he needed Alyson to believe she was the only surviving clone.

  “I’m sorry, Alyson. This was never intended to hurt you.”

  “Of course not. After all, I’m not human. I don’t have real feelings. I’m just some freak mutant you cooked up in your lab one day!”

  “I know you’re angry and you have every right to be. But you have to see the bigger picture. Do you understand what this means?”

  “I know what it means to me, Dad. You’re not even my real father. I don’t even have real parents. What have you done to me? I can’t even say I wish I was never born because technically I never was!”

  “Alyson, try to calm down,” Charles said with an even tone, trying to comfort his daughter.

  “Calm down? Calm down? How do you expect me to calm down?”

  “I know you’re in shock right now, but once you’ve had a chance to think about everything, you’ll see it’s not that bad.”

  “Not that bad? I’m not even legal! My very existence is not ev
en legal!”

  “I know you’re planning to be a scientist someday. You must understand how technology can change the laws. One day you will be legal. Cloning will be the norm.”

  “Do you even hear yourself? Someday I’ll be legal? I’m here now, Dad! I can’t wait for the laws to catch up with technology.”

  “You just need time.”

  “No, I just need to get away from you. I feel like Frankenstein’s monster. All that’s missing are the bolts on the side of my head.”

  “Alyson, please.”

  “Don’t! Don’t even come near me. I can’t look at you. I don’t know you.”

  She grabbed her bag, ran out the door and stumbled into her car. Charles followed, watching in the darkness as his only child faded from sight. Screeching tires shattered the silence of the morning as Alyson turned the corner. He chased after her, but couldn’t keep up. He walked back, shuffling his feet, his eyes fixed on the ground. When he reached the front door, he looked down the street, hoping her car would be coming around the turn, but it didn’t. He stepped inside, collapsed into the chair by the window and phoned his colleague, Alexander Stephens.

  “We have a problem, Alex. Alyson knows.”

  “What do you mean, ‘Alyson knows?’ What exactly does she know?”

  “She wandered into the suspended animation lab. She saw Tina. She saw Samantha. It didn’t take much for her to put two and two together.”

  “She knows about the transplant to save Samantha?”

  “Not yet. She’s already in shock. I couldn’t tell her she was created for body parts. That would destroy her.”

  “Eventually she’s going to have to find out. The surgery is scheduled for a month from now.”