“Where is Rivner?” she asked.
“Rivner is gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean gone?”
“Forever gone. She was returning from Meno when you intercepted her assumption. It could not have been timed any better.” He smiled at a couple passing them. “Your energy is quite strong. A beautiful specimen of a Path. Rivner will now be known for it. I replaced her assumption code with the one from your own Path. She is now in the ether as humans say.”
She was now conscious of her movements; her body felt foreign to her. It should feel foreign—it wasn’t her body.
“The ether? You can still retrieve it.”
“No, it loses the harmonics, much like you are doing even now. You are not energy itself. You create it.”
“What? How do I return?” She tried to stifle the pleading in her voice.
“Your Path is changing. You are the darling of my research. It’s so much easier to go to Earth than to return from it. I can’t use humans as participants if their body harmonics change. Such a moody species. I believe your cultures demand too much adaptation. The clones are stable. The spirits’ Path wavelengths are difficult to isolate. Too much static. DanuVitro’s clients need stable participants. The nanobot implant helps greatly in that endeavor as long as one has the benefit of slow waves in delta sleep. I found it to be the best carrier wave.”
Her restful sleep had offered her up to the assumption code. She had no defenses, save for not having had the vanity to undergo the implant procedure to begin with. Not all humans would have a cosmetic procedure, but given the right excuse, they would receive them. Inoculations against disease to the masses of the poor, the incarcerated souls without rights, the promise of superpowers to the young. They would receive it handily.
Participants. He had said it aloud. She envisioned the bodies of humans piled in a warehouse on Earth, like the ones she’d encountered by the laundry containers, without them knowing what had happened. Going to sleep would be their last act as they knew it. “You come and go as you please,” she said.
“Yes, a luxury I can afford. My Path is mapped both directions. I am both client and participant. A waste for any other purpose. There is no market for that.”
“What happens to my body if I can’t return?” she urged.
“Your body is safe. The public was very moved by your benediction.”
She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him from the dance floor and didn’t stop until she found a private space. She prayed Stavon didn’t see.
“What do you want from me?” she seethed.
Holan strayed across the room as he rubbed the remains of her grip from his hand. “I want you to thrive.”
“As Rivner,” she added.
“Yes.”
“Why?” She was too numb to move.
“Why not?”
“Take me back to Earth,” she demanded.
“I can’t. Your Path has changed, and I haven’t been able to isolate it.”
“But will my body die there?”
“I hope not.” He looked downward.
The words stunned her for a moment. “If my body dies, will I die on Danu?”
“I hope not.” He looked at her with a scientist’s intensity, without the bedside manner of a doctor, who would have observed the fear in her eyes and cared.
“Where am I?” she asked.
“You’re here.”
“My body. On Earth.” She spit the words from her mouth.
“In a hospital. You’re in a coma of undetermined origin, the news report said.” He paced again. “Although, they did find the nanobots. Thankfully, I took the emanator before they got to you.”
“You’ll pay for this.” She didn’t know how, but she willed it to be. Such deeds couldn’t be left unpunished. As a universal truth it couldn’t be wasted.
“How will you make me do this? By telling Stavon? You underestimate the man you married.” He chuckled.
She wanted to tell him of the bodies, her knowledge of them. Yet as head of research for Stavon, he would know, and both men had put their sights on the humans of Earth.
Holan came near. “I advise you to wear your dress well. I would hate to attend a funeral of one rising in New York City.” He parted and rejoined the crowd.
CHAPTER NINE
Margi stood alone in the room, processing her thoughts that refused to give way to solution. An exposé wouldn’t exist if she didn’t survive and return to Earth, and get out of the grasp of both Stavon and Holan. She felt as if no safe corner of the entire universe was possible in that moment.
She ventured back to the ballroom and scanned the crowd for Stavon. In an obscure corner of the room Ferli was arguing with him, with the full animation of contempt that she would afford the average person, but directed at Stavon too, no less.
He kept his composure and offered her a tablet. She refused to take it and stormed away.
Margi stayed on the opposite side of the room and took refuge in another drink to temper the evening. She watched the scientists and clients dance away their consciences.
Stavon locked glances with her. He paced the perimeter of the room and reached her. She had composed herself by then with another drink.
“Come,” he said without celebration in him. He took her by the hand and led her to the same room she had just been in. She felt as if she were walking the green mile, and that her body would soon be piled atop the others.
He handed her the tablet. “I need you to speak tonight.”
She laughed under her breath as the weight of dying left her.
“I’m sorry I could not you give more notice,” he added as if the words of encouragement conveyed that he actually cared for her or Rivner. He didn’t. Not really. Maybe. She didn’t have time for such thoughts.
“You’ll introduce me to speak. I’ll send for you when your time is up,” he informed. The way he said it sent chills through her.
He leaned in and kissed her. She responded in turn. Wear the dress, she reminded herself.
He left her in her silence.
She took hold of the tablet and read the speech in full before committing it to memory. She must thrive above all, lest her life be in vain for both of her lives. She reminded herself that she was a reporter, a news anchor no less. A true communicator. She could do this.
Soon a knock came at the door. Stavon entered. “Ready?”
“Yes.” She walked by his side to the stage at the end of the ballroom. The musicians lowered their instruments as they approached. Stavon stayed to the side as she took her place.
She began by welcoming them all. The fanfare of chatter quieted as she waited them out.
“Thank you,” she began and looked at the teleprompter to keep pace with the words. “DanuVitro holds this night in honor of you—for those who contribute to our success, for those who believe in the dream of what DanuVitro represents, the dream of self-fulfillment, to further the actuality of living the life one chooses. DanuVitro affords such freedoms of self-awareness through the eyes of another.”
Margi saw Holan idle through the crowd. As he reached the front of the room, he wore a grin of triumph that seemed to spread over his entire presence.
She looked across the room, meeting the gaze of each member of the crowd, and broadened her scan to encompass Stavon, standing with the confidence of the infallible as the crowd lavished its praise with its attention.
She heard each spoken word reverberate in her mind and wondered what manner of evil could construct such a program of institutionalized slavery and death using those who had no voice. With that thought, her words stumbled. She cleared her throat and continued to close with the introduction of its visionary—Stavon.
The crowd’s applause drove the thoughts from her head. She stepped back as Stavon took the podium. He, too, welcomed the group and began his speech.
Holan disappeared into the crowd. She looked out among the heads and didn’t see him. She noticed a man standing at
the back of the room staring at her. A woman standing to the side of the group also kept Margi in her sights. And another man on the opposite side of the room. They were conspicuous for not presenting themselves as belonging to the group, separating themselves instead. She brushed off the issue as security detail, whether very good or poor at it she didn’t know.
Laughter brought her back to the crowd and to Stavon, who humored the clients with his wit, picking out a few in the crowd and reminiscing over old times as if he were conducting a roast, knowing they had returned at a younger age. They loved him. He was their leader and their peer.
He finished by adding, “My wife returns to her original body and yet gets younger every time I see her.”
Margi heard an audible “Aww” come from the crowd and went to her husband to take hold of his outstretched hand.
“See you on the dance floor,” he finished, and they both waved as they left the stage.
The orchestra started up.
Stavon parted the crowd with Margi in tow. Then, he led her to the center of the floor and held her close as they swayed to the music.
“You look divine tonight. Thank you,” he said. His eyes glistened in the light of the chandelier holograms as a moon had descended toward the horizon.
“For what?”
“For being you.” He placed his head near hers and she let him.
She felt the duality within herself grow as she lost her will. His breath beat down upon her neck.
Her body neared his as if taking shelter with the very predator that had captured it. She wanted shelter, too, and had never been so stripped of personal preservation. Odd that she would be so similar to Rivner that even her husband couldn’t tell the difference. Clone or no clone, she would be Rivner for a time.
* * *
The music still played into the night as Stavon played host by meeting with each of the more influential clients. Margi took her leave of him to collect her senses. Holan was nowhere. The security detail was nowhere. Only the glamorous mob crowd remained.
A waiter approached. She took a drink from the tray. Lying beside the glass was a small scroll. The waiter motioned his head for her to take it. She did.
She unfurled the scroll, which read Remember who you are.
She looked up to see the waiter but he’d disappeared into the crowd. She quickly dropped the scroll into her purse.
She searched the room for anyone who might be watching her, wanting a reaction. She saw no one. However, the cloak of disinterest was an illusion. Though no one regarded her, she was known through the veil of someone with a kindness. Her distrust grew.
Stavon gently cupped her elbow in his hand. “Ready?”
“Ready,” she replied and followed him to the night air and its sobering vastness.
They made their way toward the landing pad, and out of the corner of her eye Margi caught sight of the two men and woman she thought had been security detail. They were closer now, and she could see that one had been the waiter who gave her the scroll. Their eyes met hers, all of them, and they didn’t turn away.
Margi walked faster to keep pace with Stavon. They slid into the seats of his black convertible hover car that glittered as if it had been bedazzled with rhinestones and swept into the night.
“I have a surprise,” he said and kissed her hand.
She felt like Cinderella as the clock struck midnight and the night wound down. She didn’t know what would become of her if her Prince Charming discovered her true self.
Stavon aimed the car higher and soon they skimmed the tops of the structures. She saw the glow of the city lights as they sped along, the wind whipping at her hair. She removed the pin at the base of her chignon, leaving the crown-like jewel, and her locks fell to her shoulders.
Stavon smiled and angled the car into darkness as the sister moons had lowered beyond the concealment of the horizon. She could see better in the blackness of night, without the city lights to compete with its presence. Stars lit the sky. She felt as if she could scoop them in her hands and scatter them out again. A section of sky was darkened with the smudge of space, where no stars glittered. There lay Meno. She looked the other way.
A coolness rose underneath and with it a freshness she hadn’t known she missed. The mustiness of earth filled her senses. She peered down to see a blanket of forest far beneath them. Ahead, a lighthouse came into view, its beacon shooting up into the indigo sky like a rod of smoke. Beyond it lay a body of water so vast that she almost gasped at such beauty. The small waves flickered against reflections of the stars above while the larger surges flashed as they rolled, sending the sparkles into the glistening ripples.
Stavon descended the vehicle toward a landing pad. Margi took in the scent of mineralized salt similar to that found on the coast of Rockport, Maine, at summertime. A castle, by any standard, stood a short distance away at the crest of a hill.
They landed and Stavon helped her from her seat. She stood for a moment to get her bearings as gravity adjusted her senses.
He didn’t speak, and this time it didn’t scare her. He led her along a covered bridge with the forest to one side and the sea on the other. Below them, foamy brine and the end of waves entertained courtship as the two worlds met under her feet.
They neared the castle made of rock and glass with the forest creeping its vines along its face. He led her inside, beyond solid iron doors like those of some ancient fortress.
A man approached with a tray of drinks and fruit. She took one of each. She bit into a slice of fruit—the tartness of rhubarb, sweetness of honey, and texture of a ripe pear. The saline in the air added sharpness to the taste. The hubbub of the day had vanished.
“Come,” Stavon invited.
She followed him up the wide staircase. Artwork lined the walls—all abstract works that contrasted with the austere feel the space otherwise indicated, appearing medieval in some ways, too, with an occasional gleeful cherub projecting from an alcove. Large blocks of gray stone gave way to stucco in the more livable parts as the civility of decor became more abundant the higher they climbed. Indirect lighting above the cornice created a glowing halo above. She momentarily lost balance. Stavon didn’t notice.
They reached the top level, which opened to a large room. Flagstones spanned the floor. A fireplace blazed to one side, lending a vibrancy to the room. Ahead of her, a wide opening appeared, flanked by draperies of gauze floating like ghosts to invite her across their threshold.
She approached them and stepped onto a balcony. Vines trellised the stone banister. She wondered if Stavon would make love to her there, and she looked beyond the barrier to the sea and its tide that punished the rocks below her.
She felt him near her and wrap his arms around her waist and bury his head in her hair. She must wear the dress as Holan had warned.
“You deserve this,” Stavon murmured as he rested his chin on her shoulder and looked out to the vastness of the ocean.
He glided a finger along her arm. She felt her hand being lifted from the banister and held gracefully in Stavon’s palm. He led her inside to the warmth of the fire. There, he ran his fingertips along the length of the seam of her dress and knelt before her, lowering the cobalt blue fabric down her form to rest lifelessly on the floor.
He rose and began unbuttoning his shirt. Margi reached for his hand. He rested his hand on hers as she released each button and let the shirt fall to the floor. Soon, he stood before her, a young man with nothing hidden. The brashness of such freedom intoxicated her.
He lowered her to the pillows on the floor and made love to her. She lost her orientation, having only the heat of the nearby fire to ground her senses. The crown began to press into her scalp and she tossed it into the fire before realizing what she had done.
They both laughed and sank deeper into the pillows.
* * *
Margi awoke on the bed with light piercing into the room. Stavon was nowhere to be seen.
She went to the balcony and sa
w the marigold yellow of the sun reflect upon the glassy smoothness of morning’s ocean. She readied herself and bounded down the staircase. The butler from the night before greeted her.
“Stavon has asked for your forgiveness. He was called away for business. I have prepared a meal for you if you wish.”
She realized that Stavon would routinely leave her. She was perfectly fine with that notion and was famished from the previous night with him.
“Yes,” she said and followed him to the veranda. A table was set. The dishes appeared to be made with some type of shell, like an abalone that was larger and more exquisite than any on Earth. Her glass was a fruit of some sort with its juice sweet and tangy. She sat facing the flowers that trellised the open windows. The scent wafted over her as the petals fluttered in the sea breeze like rooted butterflies savoring their nectar.
As she ate, she wondered if Rivner preferred this place to the city’s structures. She had noticed ample clothes in the closet, but those could have been delivered on a moment’s notice.
She gazed at the rocks below and noticed a trail carved among them. She eyed it as she ate. It would be a steep descent to the shoreline below. It beckoned her, teased her with adventure.
She slipped out through the side steps and found the way leading to the waves lapping against the rocks. She kept to the trail, careful to keep her footing against the slippery algae and pockets of water left from the previous night’s tide encroachment.
The rock gave way to sand that laced the outline of boulders along the shoreline. She followed it, looking back to the castle to judge how far she had traveled. For a time, she forgot that she was on Danu, unaware of any differences in the nature of things.
She sat on a rock that levied over the water and let her feet be clasped by the waves. The rhythm swayed her legs to and fro as the morning sun’s rays warmed her skin. It calmed her. She needed the silence within her.
The Assumption Code Page 10
