by Stacy H. Pan
“Yes.”
“Oh heavens no! I don’t have a clone.” She chuckles like that thought is so silly. “I am from the Laborer sector. We don’t have clones.”
“Oh.” I want to ask why people from the Laborer sector do not have clones, however, I do not want to get in trouble for asking too many questions. Zareh stops abruptly in front of a closed door.
“Here we are!” she says excitedly. She opens the door and we step inside. “I hope you like it,” Zareh says. “I cleaned it for you this morning.”
“Thank you!” I respond. The room is small, dark, and a little chilly. A shiver runs down my spine. I do not know if I am really cold or just overwhelmed by the events of today. There is a small twin bed against the wall with red bedding. Red clothes lay on the bed. There is a small bathroom with a shower, sink, toilet, and mirror. At least this bathroom has a door. A dresser sits on the wall opposite of the bed, a single clock resting on top. That is it. There are no windows and no decorations. I feel like I am in a prison cell in this room. I am not in a prison though. Inmates serve their time and then they are released. They regain their freedom. A stifling thought echoes off the walls and in my head...I will never have freedom. I am forever a prisoner.
“The kitchen is just down the hall,” she says and points to the right. That is when I see a small tattoo on her wrist of a yellow and black bee. Its body is curved, the stinger on the end a prominent point. The wings are spread, giving off the allusion that it will fly right off of her arm.
"What is that?" I ask curiously and point to the mark.
"Oh, this identifies me as a Laborer. We get the marks when we turn eighteen, just as the clones do. That way everyone knows where you belong."
"Oh. Do you live here too?”
“No. All of the Laborers live in the Laborer sector and the Enforcers live in The Towers.”
“What’s The Towers?” I ask.
“They are the tallest buildings in the whole city. There are two of them. You should change and let me take those clothes to the wash for you. I will be starting another load soon,” she says.
“I don’t do my own laundry?” I ask, shocked. “I just assumed…”
She cuts me off. “Oh no, dear. I will do it for you. I do everyone’s laundry, even for the clones. I don’t like people messing with my washer and dryer,” she says with a smile. There is a gentleness in her eyes that comforts me.
“Oh, okay. Thank you!” I smile back at her. I think it is the first time I have smiled since I woke up yesterday. I can’t help but be saddened by my situation and concerned about the uncertainty that my future holds. However, at least I have been shown kindness and there is something comforting in that.
“Now, get changed and I will show you around the rest of the house.”
Zareh leads me all through the house. Room after room, like a never-ending maze. By the time we finish the tour, I am so confused and turned around, there is no way I could make it back to my room without help from someone.
We end our tour at Bailey’s room, which would be fit for a princess in all its extravagance. A huge canopy bed sits against the wall and juts out into the center of the room. Its pink silk bedding stands out next to the dark wooden frame. A pink fur rug lies on the floor at the foot of the bed and matches the bedding. A vanity with scattered makeup cases and several bottles of liquid sit adjacent to the bed. Doors that lead to a balcony are open and a light breeze blows the curtains. Paintings of birds and flowers line the walls and a crystal chandelier that sparkles like diamonds hangs from the ceiling in the center of the room. Zareh hurriedly leaves as Bailey emerges from her closet, leaving me to fend for myself against my pure blood.
“Oh, there you are. Which one would you wear to a party?” she asks, looking at me. She holds up two dresses that consist of such little fabric that I wonder if they would really cover her whole body. One is a short black dress with spaghetti straps and the other is a strapless, hot pink dress. Both have sweetheart necklines that leave little to the imagination.
“The black one,” I say.
“Ugh! How morbid! I’m going to a party, not a funeral. I think I will wear the pink one,” she exclaims with satisfaction and I wonder why she even bothered to ask me. She throws the black dress on the floor and looks at the pink dress. A knock on the door startles us.
“Oh, Alec!” Bailey exclaims excitedly.
Alec stands in the doorway of Bailey’s bedroom, not daring to cross the threshold. His posture is not as stiff as I saw him earlier in Killian’s office, however he is far from relaxed.
Bailey holds the hot pink dress in front of her perfectly proportioned body. “What do you think, Alec? Is this dress sexy?” She flashes him a sultry smile that I interpret as an attempt at seduction. However, the failed attempt leaves her looking constipated rather than sexy. I stifle a laugh.
“Your father wants to see you,” Alec responds, ignoring her question. He has a dissatisfied look on his face, like he wishes he could be anywhere else but here.
Bailey lays the dress on the bed and walks toward Alec. She goes up to him and places a hand on his broad chest. “When are you going to ask me out?” she asks. She circles around him, letting her hand trace a half circle around his body as she walks. She looks at him as if she could devour him, like a vulture examining its prey. She stops on his other side, her hand touching his arm.
“I’m a little old for you,” he says and I can hear a sense of annoyance in his voice.
“Twenty-one is not old. It’s perfect!” She giggles and releases his arm. Bailey glides back to her bed and Alec releases a sigh of what I think is relief.
“Miss Bailey, your father,” Alec reminds.
“Ugh! What does he want? I have to get ready. Fine!” She looks at me. “Stay here!” She storms out of her room, leaving me with Alec.
“How are you?” Alec asks. I am a little taken aback by his question. It is almost like he is concerned or cares. Based on what I have seen so far, those are not characteristics I would attribute to an Enforcer.
“I am okay, considering the circumstances,” I respond. “Thanks for the advice earlier. I have found it to be most helpful,” I say sounding a little annoyed.
He walks closer to me. “Here’s another piece of advice for you. You will never be her friend, 656.” I assume he is referring to Bailey. “No one here will ever see you as more than a clone. The sooner you learn your place, the better off you’ll be.” His voice is harsh and cold. I feel anger rise in me and I look away. He turns around and walks out of the room before I can respond.
Like a whirlwind, Bailey comes back in the room.
“Are you ready to go?” asks Bailey.
“Go? Go where?”
She blows out a puff of air. “To the party. Haven’t you been listening?”
“Yes, I just didn’t think you were taking me with you,” I respond surprised.
“Of course you are going with me, in case I need anything. You can fetch me drinks and food and stuff.”
Of course that is why I am going. I am not going to socialize or to have fun. Bailey is my pure blood and it is my job to serve her.
On our way out, Bailey stops by Killian’s office to say goodbye. While we are in there, he receives a phone call and from the look on his face, it is not good news.
“What’s wrong, Daddy?” asks Bailey.
“One of our Enforcers has died during a training accident,” responds Killian with shock and sadness in his voice. “Tomorrow will be his clone’s draining.”
With that, my head darts up and I look at Killian, hoping for an explanation. Killian looks passed me and at Alec. “656 needs to go to it. She hasn’t witnessed one yet. And you will go with her,” Killian demands.
“Me?” questions Alec, his serious demeanor turning to shock. “Why me, sir?”
Killian places both hands on his desk and pushes himself up. “Are you questioning my orders?” asks Killian, the anger on his face growing as he rises out
of his chair.
Alec immediately looks regretful for asking the question. I smirk a little. I can’t help but be amused by Alec’s discontent after the way he has spoken to me.
"No, sir. I just meant…I think I may be ill suited to take her. Maybe someone else should do it.”
“You’re my best Enforcer, Alec. She needs to be protected so she can provide blood to Bailey. I don’t want to have to pay for another clone because something happened to this one.” He looks at me. “She was expensive!” He looks back at Alec. “Tread carefully, Alec. Take heed to never question my orders again. It is never too late to send you back to where you came,” Killian threatens and I wonder what he meant.
“Yes, sir,” Alec says in defeat.
Killian looks at Bailey. “Bailey, you’re not going out tonight.”
“What? Why? I am expected to be at the party! Why can’t I go?”
“It’s too late, Bailey. There's a lot of unrest in the city right now. It's not safe for you to be out. You can have a party here tomorrow night."
“Ugh! You are such a life ruiner!” Bailey retorts as she storms out of the room.
Killian looks at me. “She’s a little dramatic,” he says. "You should go get some rest.”
I nod and turn to walk out the door. On the way out, I glance in Alec’s direction. He glares at me intimidatingly. An intense feeling of caution overwhelms me. The last thing I need right now is an Enforcer being angry with me. I have seen what they can do and I get the feeling that Alec is no different.
I get back to my room and there is a plate of food on my dresser. It is at that moment that I realize that I am ravenous, as I have not eaten anything today. Once I make the food disappear, I lay on my bed, my eyes heavy with exhaustion. My mind begins to wander and I try to sort through all of the confusion of the last twenty-four hours. My mind is stuck on one thing. The draining. What is it? Why do I have to go? Why do I need protection? I am not sure what kind of protection I am going to receive from someone who obviously doesn’t like me. If there is one thing I know for sure, it is that I can’t count on anyone. The only person I can rely own to take care of me is me. I am my own protection. With that thought, my eyes close and I can fight sleep no longer.
Chapter Six
I am laying in the dark, unable to move, a numbness encompassing my entire body. I try to move my arms and legs, but nothing happens. I try to open my eyes to see if there is light, however, my eyes are so heavy from grogginess that I decide to leave them closed. Where am I? Why can I not move? I hear the muffled voices of a man and woman standing close by. I try to make out what they are saying, but my head is so groggy, it is a difficult task to muster. I wonder if they can tell that I am awake. I try to speak, to ask them where I am and what is going on, but no words come out of my mouth. I have such a strange feeling, like I am conscious, but outside of my body, unable to make it respond to my mental commands. Concentrating on the voices, I will myself to hear the words being spoken.
“It’s really strange. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s something different about her. Something different about her blood. I’ve never seen anything like it before,” the woman’s voice says. The tone of her voice sounds awfully familiar, but I can’t place it.
“Does she have the compound we are looking for?” the male voice asks. His voice has a familiar ring to it as well.
“No, sir. But I think we should run more tests,” the woman argues.
“If she doesn’t have the compound, then you are wasting time by running more tests,” the male voice sounds angry. “There are more clones who need to be checked before they can be released. Maybe you should concentrate on testing them instead of wasting time we don’t have.”
“But sir---”
“Did I not make myself clear? If you are incapable of fulfilling your end of the bargain, then I will find someone else. You are not irreplaceable, Dr. Kendall. There are others who would love to fill the spot as leader of the Researcher sector. Do you understand?” the man asks with authority.
“Yes, Killian. I understand perfectly,” Dr. Kendall says, defeated. Heavy footsteps get further away from where I am and I know Killian is gone. I can feel the presence of the Dr. Kendall hovering over me. “What are you?” she whispers before walking away.
The next morning, I wake feeling fully rested. I must have been exhausted to have slept so well my first night here. I don’t wake happy and energetic the way one should when they have had a full night’s sleep. Instead, I feel confused. My dream felt so real. I felt like I was outside of my body, unable to see what was going on, but could hear the voices of Dr. Kendall and Killian speaking.
Maybe a shower will wake me up more and clear my head. Getting out of bed, I walk to the bathroom and turn on the water. When it is the right temperature, I undress and climb in. I stand under the warm water for a few minutes and just let it cover me like a blanket. The warmth feels so good as it cleanses my body. Just for a moment, it feels like this water has the power to wash away all the confusion in my life, to wash away everything I have seen so far. That would be a welcome relief right now. I will never forget the suffering I have seen and how it made me feel. No matter how many showers I take, those images will never be washed from my mind. Waking to my flesh being burned, watching the old man get his hand sawed off, the screaming boy on the floor in the fetal position as Roderick used his aleuron on him; all these images will forever be imprinted in my memory.
I put on my red clothes, the only color I will ever be permitted to wear and braid my hair to keep it maintained. Now, I am not sure what to do. Bailey still has not given me any type of instruction. I pick up the plate that housed my food last night and head in the direction of the kitchen. On my way, I run into Zareh.
“Good morning, 656.” Zareh says in a chipper voice. “I hope you slept well.”
“I did, thank you.”
“I am just going to get some breakfast. Are you hungry?” she asks.
“Yes. I am starving!” I say.
Zareh leads the way to the kitchen. I pay attention to every turn we make and door we pass through. It is going to take me some time to navigate through such a big place. I try to find some kind of landmark in every hallway that will help me find my way in the future, but every picture, decoration, or wall paper starts to run together and I am more confused now than before we started our walk.
Finally we enter a huge kitchen. It should be big for the amount of people this house can hold. A young man is stirring something in a pot on the stove when we walk in. He glances in our direction.
“Good morning, Zareh! You are looking beautiful today, as always.” He turns around and flashes a big smile that shows off his white straight teeth.
“Oh Milo, you’re such a charmer!” she says with a chuckle. “You might want to have your eyes checked, though. I haven’t been beautiful in quite some time. Have you met Enforcer-656?” she asks.
Milo turns around to face me. His lack of red tells me he is a pure blood. He is a handsome young man with dark eyes and a dark complexion. There is something familiar about his smile.
“I have not had the pleasure.” he replies. He smiles and extends his hand to me. On his wrist, he bears the same tattoo as Zareh and I know that he belongs to the Laborer sector. I am taken aback by his politeness. I take his hand and shake it firmly.
“I’m Milo. I’m one of the cooks here at the Buchanan house.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say.
“Likewise. Did you enjoy your dinner last night?” he asks.
“That was you?” I ask surprised.
“I figured you might be hungry,” he says with a smile.
“It was delicious. Thank you!”
“You should go get something to eat before Bailey starts looking for you,” he says.
Zareh leads me into another room that is connected to the kitchen. It consists of one long table lined with chairs on both sides. There are people already sitting at th
e table eating their breakfast. They all wear red. Some of them look familiar and some do not.
“This is where all the workers eat, clones and pure bloods alike,” Zareh says.
No one had noticed us until Zareh spoke. All of a sudden, all eyes are on me. No one says anything to me or asks my name. I guess I need no introduction. Everyone already knows who I am.
We take a seat at the end of the table next to some people who wear red.
"Everyone, this is Enforcer-656," Zareh says. She makes some introductions, but that is the extent of the conversation. No one, but Zareh, seems interested in talking to me.
Zareh stops talking abruptly when she notices someone else has walked into the room. I recognize him immediately. It is Killian, though his red clothes tell me that he is not. He looks in our direction, but doesn’t say anything. He sits down at the opposite end of the table where no one else is sitting and begins to eat his breakfast.
“Why doesn’t he sit with us?” I ask Zareh. Before she can speak, my question is answered by a familiar voice behind me.
"He thinks he is better than us," I hear a male voice say. I turn around and see yet another familiar face, Alec. Only it is not Alec. Although he wears the same features on his face as Alec, his hair is much longer and untamed than his pure blood’s short cut. Long strands of hair hang down on each side of his face at the level of his dark brown eyes. Of course, his uniform is red, like the rest of us. However, the way he distances himself from the workers, gives me the impression that he is somewhat of a loner.
The Alec lookalike is leaning against the wall. He has one leg bent with his foot propped on the wall. He bites into the deep red apple that has the color of blood and clashes with his bright red uniform.
"He doesn't associate with us because he is Killian's clone," Alec's lookalike says between mouthfuls of apple. He looks at me with hard eyes. "It's like he thinks he is human."
"Hush your mouth, Enforcer-497," Zareh says angrily.
My first impression of Enforcer-497 is just as good as my impression of Alec. They have the same demeanor. Even though Enforcer-497 seems to be relaxed, the tightness of his jaw tells me that he is on guard. He reminds me of a cat waiting for his prey so he can pounce and shred the poor small animal apart. Or in this case, Killian's duplicate. Much to Enforcer-497’s disappointment, Killian's copy does not give him the chance. He sits at the other end of the table and quietly eats his breakfast while Enforcer-497 takes another bite of apple. I can’t help but wonder if some sort of unpleasant discourse occurred between them in the past.