The Rule of Luck, page 26
“I don’t know.” His voice rumbled in his chest when he spoke.
I wasn’t sure what I thought he might say, but it wasn’t that. Horrified, I backed away and his hands dropped to my hips. I looked at him again. I mean really looked at him. The hair. The face. The shoulders, chest…the whole package. Everything about him was flawless. I hadn’t given it much thought before, but no one could be that perfect no matter how carefully their parents had followed One Gov’s specs when mapping their child.
“Monique said you’re genetic perfection. Karol said you’re on the verge of becoming post-human. What does that mean?” I made myself ask.
His hands dropped away completely. “It means I’m a stew of this and that, stirred in a dish, created by Consortium geneticists to be the next step in human evolution. The perfect vessel to rule the world, ushering in a reign of peace and logic.”
“And how does…Mr. Pennyworth fit into this?”
“The homunculus will be a global physical upgrade. As much as they reengineer the human body, it can’t live forever. Once the link between me and the AI host stabilizes, the world will learn they don’t have to remain in the prison of their bodies anymore. Eventually, humans will be able to download their minds into their own individual homunculus. For humanity to evolve, they need more. I’m to show them that they can be immortal. Or, at least that’s the Consortium’s plan.”
And there it was; the thing I hadn’t really acknowledged but suspected all along. To him, humans were a “they,” not an “us.” He wasn’t even sure if he was human himself. I backed away even farther, more than a little scared.
“Do you think we’re all lesser beings compared to you?” I whispered. “That I’m less?”
“I’ve never thought that about you. Never. To me, you were a dream I wanted to experience while I had the opportunity.”
“How can you think I’m a dream when the future you’re describing sounds like a nightmare? It’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard. The Consortium wants us to become these homunculus with all of us here forever, never changing or moving on. Never creating anything new. Not even really feeling anything. Can you even…love like that? You have this amazing body that can do things no one else can, yet you would throw that away and don’t even think you’re human. What happens to the rest of us, then? Will we even still consider ourselves human when the Consortium is finished? Is this how everything ends?” I whispered. “I don’t belong in this world you’re describing. I can’t be part of it. I never will be.”
There was a desolate look on his face. “You were always the one element I couldn’t reconcile into the equation. I don’t know how to make you fit.”
He walked back to me and kissed me. Not on the mouth, but on both my eyes and the top of my head. I stiffened, uncertain. If he’d kissed me as he had last night or so much as turned in the direction of the bedroom, would I have relented? Instead, he merely held me. My arms crept around him of their own volition until I clung despite my anger.
“Part of me hates you and will continue to for a long time,” I murmured into his chest. “I’ll still do this thing for you with TransWorld because I keep my promises, but I can’t…I can’t be with you. I just can’t.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I think I knew that from the first, but it didn’t stop me from wanting to believe otherwise. I hid the truth because I wanted you to see me and not the Consortium’s creation. I wanted to imagine this could be real and understand how it might feel if we were more.” He shook his head. “I see now that it’s impossible.” He let me go and turned away. “I’ll send Oksana to brief you on the specifics for tonight. Until then, good afternoon, Ms. Sevigny.”
Then he opened the door, and left.
Chapter Eighteen
Vadim Ivchenko plucked at the button he’d snapped onto the collar of my black stealth-suit until its positioning satisfied him. I wanted to slap his hand and tell him to stop fussing. Instead I kept my mouth shut. The less I said, the sooner this would be over.
“This records both video and audio, and since it’s organic, the building sensors won’t detect it. Don’t touch it or we could lose your signal. It’s temperamental and the best we could get on short notice. Your earpiece is also finicky. We can communicate back and forth, but it’s primitive.” He stepped back, green eyes narrowing as he studied me and tapped his lips. He cast a look at Oksana. “I would have liked the meta-gauge sensors, but Alexei wouldn’t allow it.”
“It’s fine,” Oksana soothed. “This mission has many constraints. Even the stealth-suit may be too much. Still, I’ve no doubt Felicia will do what needs to be done.”
“I just wish Alexei hadn’t been so interfering and let me do my job. Using this outdated tech is frustrating,” Vadim complained. He reached up to touch the button again. This time, I slapped the hand away. “We can’t even be sure it will work when we need it.”
Oksana met my eyes, and I shrugged. She looked sad. “I think in this instance Alexei doesn’t wish to take chances. There’s much at stake for both him and the Consortium.”
I ignored the jab, not wanting to set off more tears. “It’s going to work,” I said instead, though that wasn’t necessarily true. My gut was quiet and I hadn’t had time to run the cards.
The three of us were in my hotel room. With half an hour until midnight, we ran through the last stages of the plan. The world outside was dark but not quiet as the city celebrated its festival. The streets were filled with revelers and fireworks were scheduled for midnight, the same time I would enter the TransWorld tower. Monique had said staffing would be virtually nonexistent as a result, so I hoped to get in and out with no one the wiser.
The tower had been under surveillance all day with no signs of unusual activity—anyone who’d entered the building had also left. Unfortunately, we had no clear idea if anyone had been inside before we started the surveillance. I would have to get in, take the first clone I thought I could manage, knock her out with chloroform since I couldn’t use any sort of smart-matter compound, then get out. It was a horrible plan. Everyone knew it. Yet if we failed, there were no alternatives. TransWorld wouldn’t let itself be caught off guard again.
I just had to make it through tonight. After that, my life would be normal again. I’d go back to my shop. Natty would return from her cruise. Charlie Zero would ride my ass about more clients and changes we needed to make. I’d go to Grandmother’s birthday and tell everyone about Roy. They’d pretend to be upset, but secretly be glad because they hadn’t liked him anyway. And I’d be alone. My blacklisted status would be revoked, though at this point I had as much interest in having a child as I did in digging out my own kidneys with a rusty spoon. After the past few days, my view of the world had shifted significantly.
I brought the stealth-suit hood up to cover my hair. “We’re as ready as we can be. Let’s go. The fireworks will be starting soon.”
Both Oksana and Vadim nodded and we hustled to the private penthouse elevator, then to the underground parking and waiting flight-limo. I sat on the bench seat facing them, rearranging the tubes and bottles in my belt so they wouldn’t dig into my back.
“I wish we had helicon support,” Vadim complained. “The citywide flight restrictions are a headache we don’t need.”
“Alexei has people staged on the closest buildings,” Oksana replied, not for the first time. Apparently Vadim was a chronic worrier. “We also have ground support and as an absolute last resort, enough fire power to vaporize the entire building.”
I frowned at Oksana. My gut woke up with a twinge. Nerves or something more? In my mind’s eye, I couldn’t help but visualize the Falling Tower from my Tarot deck and all the associations that went with it. “We didn’t talk about this.”
“Alexei’s instructions. He’d prefer to destroy the building rather than put anyone at undue risk. No one will be able to trace it back to the Consortium, should they investigate.”
“That’s unusually sentimental of him,” Vadim mused. “Alexei never worries about the risk ratio.”
“Vadim, shut up,” Oksana snarled.
“But—”
“Shut up.”
He did once Oksana delivered an elbow to his midsection. The ride lapsed into silence. We maneuvered through the streets at a low orbit, taking what seemed to be a complicated and confusing route since many roads were closed due to the celebrations. I saw partygoers wending their ways through the streets, drunk and happy as they walked arm in arm, in groups and in couples. The image stung and I looked away.
A few more turns and we reached the business district with its towering skyscrapers. As if on cue, the fireworks began. Bright bits of color illuminated the night. Shades of gold, red, blue danced in the sky and threw the towers into a kaleidoscope of color. At the same time, the flight-limo touched down. The TransWorld tower was dark, just like the previous evening. I took what I hoped were calming breaths and squared my shoulders.
Oksana grasped my hand. “Be careful,” she urged. “We’ll be listening and watching, and will do what we can should you run into trouble. Just because he isn’t here doesn’t mean he isn’t paying absolute attention.”
I offered a fleeting smile. “I know.” I waved a hand up at the sky. “Now let me do this before the show’s over.”
I jogged up the front steps to the building’s doors. There was a moment’s hesitation; then the doors opened as they had last night. First hurdle passed. I crossed the foyer to the elevator. Again, it opened with ease when I pressed the call button and stepped inside. I selected the 200th floor and within minutes, the elevator door opened and I stood exactly where I’d been the previous evening. Now for the second hurdle.
I pushed on the door handle, heard the automated lock click, then resistance disappeared and the door opened. Had it made that noise before? I couldn’t remember. My heart rate picked up and all I could hear was blood rushing in my ears. Stepping into the darkened room, I made out the small desks and chairs from yesterday. The only lights came from the fireworks outside, visible through the glass ceiling overhead.
I paused by the first desk, listening but hearing nothing. Still, that didn’t mean no one was nearby—I couldn’t imagine the clones were completely unattended. I glanced toward the darkened hallway. Monique had gone that way when she’d put the little clone to bed.
“You need to investigate the hall,” came Vadim’s voice in my ear.
“No shit, Sherlock,” I whispered under my breath, nerves on edge. “Try to keep the obvious commentary at a minimum.”
My feet were soundless, the stealth-suit’s noise-canceling fabric muffling all sounds. A few footsteps in and I noticed the hallway was brighter, lit up with muted emergency lighting. I counted six doors, all dark. Monique hadn’t lied—no one was on duty. Or maybe they’d return once the fireworks finished. If so, I couldn’t afford to waste time.
With careful movements, I opened the first door and held my breath. There were four beds inside, each occupied by a clone. Unfortunately, they were also the bigger, older clones. I wouldn’t be able to manage them if things went bad. Hell, I couldn’t even lift one now if I gassed her into next week. Rather than risk potential disaster, I moved on to the next door.
“Where are you going?” came Vadim in my ear.
“Relax, I know what I’m doing.” Which was a lie, but I didn’t need his pestering.
The second door was a utility closet. Ditto for the one across the hall. The fourth had four more beds. Or rather, two beds and two cribs. Perfect. I crept to the cribs. Both had little clones in them, sound asleep. One even sucked her thumb. Something in me startled at that. I’d only ever thought of the clones as extensions of me, not individuals in their own right. These beings were people, modified and brainwashed, but still human at their core. Me, but also not me. Gods, I was sick of this! Sick of how she’d used us—not just me, but us—and would continue to do so. To protect all of us, I needed to stop her.
I removed an aerosol canister from my belt. I shook it as Karol had instructed—aerosol was primitive technology the AI would never detect—and sprayed a light chloroform mist over the clone’s head, covering my own nose and mouth with my sleeve. Then I tucked the canister back into my belt and eased the girl into my arms. She was unbelievably light, smelling like cookies and talcum powder, and wearing fuzzy pajamas covered with what looked like bunnies.
My heart constricted. This was why I was there: because I believed I wanted a baby. Yet as I held her, I began to doubt myself. Was this really all I’d wanted? Or had I been so obsessed with the thing I couldn’t have that I’d thrown myself down this ridiculous road, blinding myself to everything? Or worse, had luck pushed me to this moment so it could destroy what it saw as competition? Maybe it was luck’s plan to get me to this point, and my feelings had never been real. I didn’t know. Maybe I never would.
Slowly, I retraced my steps. A few more minutes and I’d be finished. I breathed a sigh. Not exactly relief, but my nerves eased a little.
Then my gut gave me a kick so powerful, I doubled over and almost dropped the clone. When I could stand again, I leaned against the wall, breathing in and out as I fought to catch my breath. No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening! I had to get out! I resumed my creep down the hall. Again, my gut kicked me and I went to my knees.
“Felicia, what is it!” Vadim shouted in my ear.
I hefted the clone over my shoulder. Then I stood, swearing under my breath. I turned and went back the way I’d come.
“Felicia, you have the clone. Get out!” Vadim again.
“I can’t,” I whispered. “I have to see what’s in the other rooms.”
“Take the clone and get out!”
“Sorry, but I’m changing the plan,” I murmured. Then I removed the earpiece and trotted down the hall. His yelling gave me more of a headache than I already had. Besides, they were still getting feed from the button on my collar.
The fifth room had more sleeping clones, though two beds were empty. Those must be the two en route from Mars. I closed the door and headed toward the sixth and final door. My gut pulsed with a ferocity that made me wince. Obviously I headed the right way.
I pressed my ear against the door, holding the clone to the side. I pushed back my hood, listening hard. Inside, I heard the hum of machinery. Okay, so no sleeping clones in there. My hand went to the handle, pressing down without even thinking about it. With the fireworks overhead still illuminating the hall, I let that light carry me from muted darkness into a room alive with color and sound.
I stopped, stared, and gasped.
I was in a laboratory, lit overhead with soft glowing fluorescents. I stood on a platform overlooking row upon row of glass sarcophagi like the one containing Mr. Pennyworth. Some held unborn fetuses in sacs of amniotic fluid. Others contained clones similar to the one I held in my arms. Others still held clones close to my own age and older. It was as if all the stages of my entire life from conception to death were laid out for me to contemplate. All floated in a comalike suspension, tubes running in and out from each of their various bodily openings.
I pressed my free hand against the platform railing, not sure what to do. That grip was the only thing keeping me on my feet. I wanted to run away, cry, cover my eyes, and pretend I hadn’t seen it. My gut was having none of that. I turned to the staircase on my right and marched down into the mass of clones.
At the bottom waited Monique.
She watched my progress until I stopped in front of her, still holding the clone. In the harsh lighting, her features looked fiendish, or maybe that was my imagination.
“I see you selected the perfect opportunity to break in. How lucky for you. Is there something I can help you with?” she asked with all the civility in the world.
I suspected my mother was a hell of a lot smarter than me. All I could do was bluff my way through and hope for the best.
“I spoke to Mr. Petriv and told him you were interested in switching sides,” I said, hedging.
“Given how late you left last night, it must have been pillow talk,” she said, voice cold. “Did you tell him everything? Did the luck gene work as anticipated? Are you lovers now?”
I fought not to react to the goading. She actually sounded jealous. Did she want to be in my place? That sent the creep factor through the roof.
“I told you our relationship was business only. Obviously if I disappear for several hours and he knows I’m with you, he’ll also want a report when I get back.”
“Yes, of course.” She looked visibly relieved. “What did he say?”
“He’s intrigued but wants to see the clones for himself. He wants his people to verify the luck gene is real.”
“That makes sense,” she agreed, nodding. “You’re the original, but with free will, how can what you do be attributed to luck? A series of comparisons between you and the clone would be the perfect experiment. Of course, the fact that you’re here stealing a clone is suspect. He could have contacted me directly. There’s no need for such cloak-and-dagger nonsense, especially considering you would never have been able to leave the building anyway.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
“You’ll notice the collar she’s wearing.” Monique stepped forward and tapped the sleeping clone’s neck. Now that she’d drawn my attention to it, I saw a tightfitting strap around her throat. It was finger-width and fit snugly, but not close enough to chafe. “Once she’s thirty feet outside the building perimeter, it explodes. The blast radius is small, but powerful enough to destroy the clone and anything nearby. We remove them whenever we leave the tower, such as at the picnic yesterday. I apologize for not mentioning that earlier.” Her tone was smug.
At least now I knew why my gut had reacted so strongly. I would have been killed once I’d gotten the clone outside.
“You could have just asked. To appease the Consortium’s curiosity, you could have any number of these. I’ve plenty to spare. TransWorld has no use for them.” She smiled and gestured to the canisters behind her.
