All We See or Seem (5 page)

 

Clinic-M was located on the far side of the community, opposite the dormitories. Gem had not been there before, but she had known several others who had. They never talked about their visits there, but Gem got the impression it wasn't anything to fear.

She stood now on the front steps of a small, blue brick building. There was a large chrome letter M on the wall to the right of the door. The front yard was immaculately landscaped, as were all the buildings in the community. There were shrubs and flowers growing in colorful elliptical patterns along the front walk of the clinic.

When she opened the door and walked in, the desk attendant looked up vacantly. Gem saw her glance at the wall clock, then her emotionless gaze returned to Gem.

“Gemini-Stem 6418C.” It wasn't a question. The attendant was speaking into her monitor. Without addressing Gem, she simply pointed to the door on her right and turned back to her screen.

Hesitation on Gem's part would cause the attendant frustration and only get Gem into trouble, so she stepped through the door that had opened automatically for her, as if she felt no fear. But her heart was beating in her ears when she entered the pastel blue hallway. A fresh hint of lavender mixed with the familiar sterile odor of the repository clinic greeted her. There was a faint murmur of low voices coming from behind the door opposite where Gem entered.

Other than the voices, no one seemed to be aware of her presence there. She waited uneasily for a moment. The attendant had announced her; maybe the clinician was waiting for her in a room. She began hesitantly walking down the hall toward the voices until the murmurs were almost audible. Male voices. Then she stopped suddenly as the voices became clear.

“...because 6418C has exhibited symptoms of depression.”

“Interesting. What does the plant report indicate?”

“An emotional loss — apparently one of our recent replacements.”

“Do we know which one? Perhaps another copy would do the trick. Do we have any ready?”

“No. It is in production. There is a sibling stem which is almost physically identical, but she has avoided interaction.”

“Well, for the sake of the fetus, we must keep her healthy and happy until at least the second trimester, when we're out of danger of miscarriage.”

“The medication has had some effect.”

“Good. I'll take over, then. She should be here for the initial exam. I'll keep you posted on the progress.”

“Excellent. It would be a shame to…”

“To have to start over? It would be expensive, yes, but they are replaceable.”

Rustling within the room indicated movement toward the door. Gem realized she shouldn't be found lurking. Quickly and silently she backed down the hall to where she had entered, then stood at attention as if she had been there, out of earshot, all along. But her mind was in turmoil. They had been discussing her — of that there was no doubt. So many words that lacked meaning for her. What had they been talking about? Fetus? Second trimester? Emotional loss? Obviously, in the context of the conversation, the words had been charged with significance. But that significance was beyond Gem's knowledge.

“Hello. Gemini, I presume?” A pale man with silver hair approached her, breaking into Gem's frantic, but silent, confusion.

“Yes, sir.” Gem studied him. He was shorter than Gem and seemed soft-bodied. It was not unusual for EROMI staff clinicians to look that way, although most members of the Endfield community were trim and active. It was his eyes that drew her attention. They were like cold, gray steel — his thin colorless lips curled into a smile, but his eyes scoured her with an icy intensity that sent chills cascading down her spine.

“Shall we?” Then with his pasty soft hand on the small of her back, he gently guided her to a room on the left. Once inside, the door slid closed and the clinician gestured with the other hand to an exam table. “If you please.” His voice was deep and seemed like warm oil, sliming its way over her mind. Gem cringed at the sound, but complied with his request to seat herself on the table. “I am Dr. Spurius.”

Gem did not answer. It was common for the EROMI staff to prefer one-sided conversations and almost always safer to indulge them. Dr. Spurius was not an exception to the rule apparently, because he simply droned on in his oily voice as he rolled a tray of unfamiliar medical instruments to the table and prepared the usual concoction Gem had drunk many times before in the Repository. Gem traced his movements but ignored his meaningless words. He probably meant only to set her at ease, but that was impossible now.

“Gemini, I'm going to step out to retrieve my attendant, Ms. Birger. If you would, please change into the gown there behind you. I shall return in two minutes.”

The door slid open, and Dr. Spurius stepped into the hall. The door slid closed, and Gem changed quickly. She was ready well before the two minutes had passed and was left alone in her thoughts.

Replaceable
. That was the word they had used. It had confused her at the time, but now it was fuel for consideration. They had a use for her now, at least that's what it sounded like, but what would happen if she couldn't meet expectations? That must be where the “replaceable” would come in.

As it was, there was not time to work through all the possibilities. Dr. Spurius and his attendant were at the door now, talking in hushed tones. When they walked through the door, Gem would have to put her own thoughts on hold and try to absorb as many details as possible. Maybe something would help her to unlock the mystery of what was really happening to her.

The door slid open, and Dr. Spurius and his attendant stepped inside the room. “This is Ms. Birger, Gemini. She'll be conducting your examination today.”

Ms. Birger's smile took Gem by surprise. She looked her directly in the eye, a look without irony or even a hint of apathy or disdain. Gem had seen the look before, but never in an EROMI staff person. Aria. Aria had that look.

Here was an ally.

Gem felt her body relax, and the difference must have been visible, because Dr. Spurius noticed immediately. “I believe you have the touch, Ms. Birger. I wasn't having any luck at all.” The attendant patted Gem's hand and whispered to her as she set up the heart rate monitor and readied the other equipment.

“Don't worry. This is easy.” Gem looked in Ms. Birger's warm blue eyes again and believed her.

“Do you know why you're here, Gemini?” Dr. Spurius inquired. “Why we requested you to come?”

“I believe it is connected to my incident report this morning.”

“Yes. That is correct. We have a battery of tests — to determine the…
stability
of your health,” the doctor informed her, then to his attendant, “Ms. Birger, I will leave you to it. Alert me for the ultrasound.”

“Yes, sir.”

“As he exited, the tension drained from Gem, and she lay back against the incline of the exam table, physically exhausted. Ms. Birger worked quietly beside her recording data from the monitors and adjusting the machines where necessary. There was an ease in her manner, though her work was executed with the usual efficiency of a technician. Gem studied her in silence.

“I will be drawing some blood, Gemini. Would you please roll up your sleeve?”

Gem methodically turned the sleeve up on her left arm until the vein in her elbow was exposed. So far, nothing out of the ordinary.

Ms. Birger seemed to be studying Gem as well and looked as though she wanted to say something but remained silent while she drew Gem's blood. Gem wanted to ask — wanted to get some answers — but questions were frowned on by the EROMI staff. Ms. Birger seemed different, but Gem couldn't take that chance.

“How about some static therapy, Gemini?” the attendant suggested. “I'll put it through the overhead speakers so we can both enjoy it.” She didn't wait for an answer but turned it on immediately and increased the volume slightly then went back to work near Gem. As she worked to detach the monitor nodes, she began to whisper almost imperceptibly without looking at Gem. “I know you heard them talking.”

The statement brought an icy fear spreading rapidly through Gem's extremities, and she turned her head suddenly to gauge Ms. Birger's meaning.

“Look back down at your hands, Gemini. We're under observation.”

Slowly, the realization of what Ms. Birger meant sank in, and Gem shifted her gaze back to her hands.

“You're worried about what you heard. I can help, but we have to be careful. This is dangerous for both of us.” She spoke so softly Gem had to strain to catch every word.

“I know you have questions. You have been sick because they've assigned you a birth. Tap your hand if you understand.”

Gem had been required to view the instructional videos last month and knew what it meant. Of course, she never imagined she would be called on to serve in that capacity. Nevertheless, Gem tapped her hand twice on her arm.

“Good. I'm going to hand you the cup now. They must think you drank it. You'll be awake for your ultrasound, but you must appear to be sleeping. Can you do that?”

Gem tapped her hand again.

“You will be able to hear everything they say. Don't react. I'll explain what I can later,” Ms. Birger whispered. Turning to the table she picked up a cup and announced aloud, “All right, Gemini. We're almost finished here. Just drink this.” She angled her body so she stood between Gem and mirror on the wall behind her, then furtively slipped an empty cup from beneath the full one and passed it to Gem.

Gem brought the empty cup carefully to her lips and tilted her head back slowly as if she were really imbibing the familiar liquid. And it was familiar. She'd taken it many times at the Repository. It suddenly began to dawn on her. They had been causing her to sleep through the tests there — no wonder she often seemed to be stepping out of a fog when she left the clinic.

She passed the decoy back to Ms. Birger, who slipped the full cup she had been hiding back inside the empty one and walked to the sink on the other side of the bed. With smooth motion, she turned on the water and poured the contents of the cup imperceptibly down the drain, using the running tap water to mask the sound, rinsed the cup and set it on the counter.

When Ms. Birger turned back to Gem she said, louder than necessary, “Just lie back and relax. I'm going to step out for a moment to notify Dr. Spurius we are ready to begin the ultrasound.” She squeezed Gem's hand and offered a reassuring smile then spun on her heel and exited the room.

Gem had no point of reference from which to gauge how long it should take to “fall asleep”. It was better to just lie back, close her eyes, and relax quietly until they returned.

Relax. Like that was going to happen.

A birth? And then what? They had used the term
replaceable
— like she was a commodity who could outlive her usefulness. She knew it was an honorable assignment, second only to Codes Violet and Green. Code Green. Gryff. Oh,
Joseph
, how she missed him.

****

“That went well.”

“She's sharp, doctor. A natural — quick to comprehend and a good little actor. They usually have to have it explained several times... I know what's done is done, but are you certain it was for the best to make her suspicious so soon?”

“The decision has been made. The replacement is already in production. She'll serve her purpose, and then we'll transfer her to the research facility.”

“I can't help but feel bad about deceiving her.”

“Don't. It's like tricking a dog into going to the vet. You've gained her trust. Now you can guide her where we want her to go. She'll depend on you for reliable information.”

“You're right, of course, doctor.... All set for Act Two?”

“After you, my dear.”

 

The party was a bust. Aaron had no idea how his parents could possibly know so many excruciatingly boring people. The only excitement the evening held for him was the anticipation of how the next person he met would outdo all the others by achieving new heights of monotony.

After enduring an exhausting hour of tedium, he started to search for an avenue of escape. His mother, seeming to sense his desire for flight, had posted a vigilant watch over the stairs. Aaron would never be able to sneak by undetected.

His father, on the other hand, had made himself comfortable near the back door leading into the kitchen. Aaron considered it as an option for a moment, but he knew what his father's response would be. “I feel your pain, son. I really do. But if I have to endure it, you sure ain't getting out of it. Besides, you remember the old adage —
That which does not kill you only makes you stronger.
” Aaron didn't know which would be worse, the party or the lecture. At any rate, the back door was not his best exit strategy.

There were the French doors in the sitting room that led out to the veranda, but to get there he'd have to run the gauntlet of senators' wives — all of whom were certain they knew of the perfect eligible young woman for him. Another escape route hardly worth the trouble, sounded like a torture straight out of the pages of one of those Regency novels Mom loved so much.

For such an impressive house, there were surprisingly few exits. The front door was out of the question — his mother had a full view of it from her post by the mahogany staircase. That left only Dad's office. The buffet table was strategically situated next to the entrance. If he acted nonchalant, like he was going for the hors d'oeuvres, Aaron might be able to manage a stealthy spin move and duck in under the radar. He just prayed it wasn't locked.

Yes, he had promised his mother he would be sociable, but he had put in a good hour, and even Bobby — Mr. Social — had disappeared after only twenty minutes. Knowing Bobby, Aaron realized his escape plan had probably been worked out days in advance. After all, Bobby had been to several of Mom's parties, and all of them more recently than Aaron's latest subjection. Why hadn't Bobby warned him to get out quick? Well, that was just Bobby. Not a whole lot mattered if it didn't affect him directly.

Aaron began his journey to the food table, careful to seem purposeless as he sauntered with his hands loosely in his pockets. He smiled and made casual conversation with a few of the guests as he passed them.

“Enjoying yourself, Senator Abel? — Looks like you need a refill, Judge Williams — Secretary Tavish, I didn't know you were back in town!” His parents' circle of friends had included politicians and high-ranking officials ever since he could remember, so Aaron had long since developed his own art of polite and diplomatic avoidance.

Finally, he arrived at his destination. He lifted a small plate from the side table and began selecting a few of the more appetizing offerings. If Aaron was going into hiding, he would need provisions. He caught his mother's glance while he piled his plate with crab-stuffed mushrooms and mini-quiches, so he offered her what he believed to be an irreproachably innocent smile and pretended to inspect the fruit tarts.

When he was satisfied she had stopped watching him, he made a quick scan of the area for surveillance and then made a covert escape into his father's office. Phew! It was unlocked.

Ah! Sweet freedom
, he thought as he made his way through the unlit room to the outside door. Aaron could see through the glass it was only beginning to get dusky outside. He opened a door and stepped out onto the deck.

The evening breeze was a welcome relief in the July humidity. Of course, the climate in D.C. was nothing like his desert post, so he sure wasn't complaining.

It was a little stuffy in the house — or was that just the guest list? Aaron leaned his forearms on the deck rail and looked over his parents' grounds.

His mother had always enjoyed doing her own yard work, but the acreage here at the new place was too much for one person, so Aaron's dad had finally been able to talk her into hiring a gardener. The argument that “All the other wives have one” had never gone over well, but after a month of trying to handle it herself early last spring, she was able to swallow her gardening pride and concede the need for the extra help. Of course, she still had a section that was off limits to the hired professionals — uniquely hers, just enough to indulge her pleasure in gardening without sucking every spare minute from her day.

Aaron might be slightly prejudiced, but in his opinion, his mother's section was the best part of the whole estate.

Mechanic laughter resonated from the veranda around the side of the house. The sound made Aaron cringe. The worst party ever. And he'd been to some doozies in his lifetime. Actually, he couldn't put his finger on exactly what was so horrible about this party. He had a sneaking suspicion it was the anxiety of knowing it was a going away party. Although he was excited about his new stateside assignment, there was always a twinge of fear of the unknown destiny.
Destiny? Really? You really are getting sentimental, Aaron,
he scolded himself. It was weird. Leaving had never bothered him this much before, and he'd left
a lot
.

A click of the office door startled Aaron from his thoughts. He stepped away from the rail and ducked back by the wall. Whoever it was, Aaron wasn't ready to be taken captive back into the party. Just a few more minutes, then he'd surrender of his own volition.

“Joe?”

It was his father's voice. Relief flooded Aaron. Good. They weren't looking for him yet.

“Yes, I got your message.”

Dad must be on the phone. It'd probably just be a short call. Aaron had never known him to make a business call during a party. Mom would skin him if she knew.

“A status update? Yes… I have been observing closely… No. Cary hasn't noticed.”

Cary?
Why would she be involved in this conversation? She never had anything to do with Dad's work.

“Listen, Joe, I gave you the current update… Yes, I realize you like to keep close tabs on your replacements… No… No… You know what? You'll have all the tabs you want next week when he gets out there… Yes, but do you understand we are just trying to deal with the adjustment?”

Robert's voice grew tenser. Aaron could tell he was fighting back the urge to rip into the idiot on the other end of the line. Must be somebody important if he was going to all the trouble of restraining himself so carefully.

“Okay, Joe… Hey, I've got to get back to Cary's party… Yes, of course, I'll call you if I notice any problems… You just take care of business at EROMI. I'll deal with it on this end… Yes… Goodbye.”

Aaron heard the beep signaling the end of the call and waited, holding his breath. He could tell his father was seething quietly in his leather desk chair. Only when Aaron heard the violent thump of his father's clenched fist on the desk and the creak of the chair as Dad stood and strode out of the room, did he exhale and begin to breathe again.

EROMI. He had heard of that before. It was in his new commission orders. He'd be posted there as a military intelligence liaison — the project he was going to be overseeing. Okay. But if that's the case, why was his dad getting those calls? They should be for Aaron. He began working back through his memory of the contents of his father's side of the conversation. Something about an observation of a replacement. Surely Dad would fill him in later. It was his assignment, after all. The conversation was haunting him though; he'd have to do some reconnaissance work, but he was good at that. He turned to go back through the office, but jumped when he heard his mom's voice floating to him through the portico.

“Aaron! There you are!” She was pacing toward him rapidly with someone in tow. “I've been scouring the house for you! Look who just arrived?” She stepped out onto the deck, dragging her guest with her.

“Tricia,” Aaron sighed. His mother shot him a stern look, and he tempered his tone with a forced smile. “So nice to see you.”