Rogue Memory

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Rogue Memory Page 9

by Tiffany Frost


  Destroying all evidence of biological modifications.

  Genetically engineered super soldiers.

  She spun around in her seat.

  “Excuse me,” she said to the man behind her.

  He glanced over his shoulder, doing a double take from his position hunched over the screen. He sat up straight, turning his chair so that it faced hers.

  “Hi,” she held a hand out to shake and he took it. His hands were clammy.

  “I’m Michael.”

  “Nice to meet you, Michael.” She shot him a wide grin. It felt fake and panicked and she forced herself to tone it down a notch.

  “What’s your name?” He hadn’t let go of her hand.

  She pushed past his surface emotions, trying to get back to the thoughts that had been so close to the surface when he’d come in.

  “I’m Stephanie.” She said, keeping a grip on his hand. “I think we had a class together last year.”

  He shook his head, pulling away. “I think I would have remembered you.”

  “I sat at the back. New girl with a funny accent.” She shrugged.

  “What class was that?”

  “Is it true you’re interning with ICTV?”

  “Yeah.” His chest puffed up with pride.

  “That is so cool. What kind of stuff do they have you working on?”

  “Mostly just errands, but I’m helping one of the staff writers with some research for a really cool story.”

  “Wow, what’s the story?”

  He shook his head. “Can’t tell you. But, if it breaks, it’s going to be the only thing anyone’s talking about for a long time.”

  “That sounds really cool. I have to go now, but it was nice catching up with you.” She stood up.

  “Wait, can I get your coms details? In case another internship opens up, maybe I can put in a good word for you.”

  He held out his wrist.

  “I’d like that.” Stephanie smiled, pressing her wrist against his.

  He didn’t seem to notice the way her pulse raced, adrenaline flooding her system.

  He’d thought about the office. She had a name for the reporter who’d given him the research job.

  * * *

  “I’m here to see Isabelle Schmidt.”

  “And you are?” the woman behind the counter raised an eyebrow.

  “Someone she’ll want to see.”

  “May I ask what this concerns?”

  “There’s a story she’s working on. I might have information.”

  “Wait one moment.”

  The woman turned back to her console, tapping away. Stephanie waited near the desk, trying to look unconcerned. She wiped her hands on the thighs of the form fitting black pants she was wearing. She’d have to consider buying new ones, the high waist was making it hard to breathe.

  “You can wait in that conference room,” the woman pointed to the side of her desk where a small room with glass walls stood.

  Stephanie nodded and strolled over. The door slid open automatically and she went inside. She sat down. Glanced at the time. It would take her about fifteen minutes to get to Ana’s location from here.

  She stood up, pacing around the room.

  She had about twenty minutes left. If this woman didn’t have time to see her now, she’d have to....

  Try again? Maia suggested.

  Stephanie ignored her. What if she got the story out before then? What if everyone found out about them?

  You’re going in circles, Maia pointed out.

  Stephanie sighed, leaning against the table and folding her arms.

  Sometimes it sucked having someone listening in on your thoughts.

  The door slid open and a small woman in an aubergine suit walked in. Her blonde hair was cropped in a neat style and her lipstick was perfectly matte. She waved a hand and the glass walls turned milky white.

  “Do I have your permission to record this conversation?”

  Stephanie shook her head.

  “You have to give a verbal response, for the record.”

  “No, don’t record it.”

  “Is anything you say quotable and on the record?”

  “How would you quote me if you can’t record?”

  The woman pursed her lips.

  “Sorry. No. Strictly off the record.”

  The woman waved her hand again, presumably deactivating any recording devices. Stephanie felt her shoulders relax, surprised to find they’d hunched up.

  “This better be worth my time.” The woman sat down, folding her hands on the table.

  Stephanie sat down across from her, near the door.

  “I’m Stephanie,” she held her hand out to shake hands.

  “What have you got for me?”

  Stephanie put her hand down. “I... heard you’re working on a story.”

  “That is my job.”

  “Right...”

  “What story did you hear about?”

  Stephanie cleared her throat. “Illegal genetic experiments. In the Republic.”

  “These experiments would concern us because?”

  “They’re making soldiers.”

  The woman smiled. “And you know this because...?”

  “I...” Stephanie cleared her throat. What was she doing here?

  Just touch her and get out, she thought to herself.

  She stood up. Her chair slid out behind her, scraping across the floor.

  “I have to go,” she said.

  “Wait,” Isabelle grabbed her arm.

  Stephanie paused. The woman’s hands were cold on her bare skin. She had a contact. In the corporation. Someone who only communicated by text. There was a senator too, a publicly religious man who...

  Isabelle’s hand dropped away. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

  Stephanie shook her head. “It was a prank.”

  “No, you’re one of their spies. A succubus.”

  Stephanie turned on her heels and ran.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “What’s wrong?” Ana asked the second Stephanie got through the door.

  She pushed a hand through her hair, feeling the tangled waves. Her skin was flushed and her breath was coming in short gasps.

  “Did you run the whole way?” Ana asked.

  “I... Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.”

  “Did something happen?”

  Stephanie started pacing, trying to calm down. She put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. Then another.

  “Talk to me, Stephanie.” Ana moved in front of her, catching her by her shoulders and forcing her to look at her.

  She felt Ana’s concern wrap around her like a blanket. She sunk into her.

  Would Ana still be worried about her if she knew what she was?

  Stephanie imagined the disgust on Ana’s face as she realized she’d slept with a genetically engineered spy.

  She’d never be able to forgive her.

  Tears burned her eyes and she buried her face in the crook of Ana’s neck, letting out a shuddering sob.

  She should have just run back to Dr. Volkov, to the corporation. Should have told them what she’d learned about the journalist. Maybe they could have done something to shut her up. They could have found the leak in their system. More people dead to protect a corporation that had screwed them up to begin with.

  “Can I stay here for a couple of days?” Stephanie asked. Her voice sounded weak and thin, even to her own ears.

  “Of course,” Ana said.

  “Thank you.”

  * * *

  She was lying down somewhere cold and hard, bright lights shining into her eyes. She tried to sit up but her body didn’t respond.

  She tried again. Her head lolled to the side.

  A shadow fell across her vision.

  There was something sticking out of her. A tube. More than one. She watched crimson flow through one of the tubes. Something pale green in another.

  She tried to ask where she was and what wa
s happening but she couldn’t make her mouth move. The words died at the back of her throat.

  The shadow moved, coming closer into the light.

  Dr. Volkov.

  He flickered, morphing into Spencer Evans.

  I trusted you, she tried to say.

  A thin line of drool spilled out of her mouth.

  He bent, wiping her cheek with the edge of his lab coat. His latex gloves brushed against her skin.

  Her head fell to the other side.

  A row of benches spread out into the distance.

  Her batch sisters and brothers, the ones who’d disappeared the year she went back to the center.

  She saw Caroline lying next to her. Her collar bones stuck out in sharp contrast, casting deep shadows across her skin. Her eyes were closed. Dark circles, like purple bruises, stood out beneath puffy eyelids. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on her brow and her hair sat in limp strands, slicked to her skull.

  A new bed was wheeled in.

  A girl with dark hair wearing a long blue dress. Her face covered with bruises. Blood soaking the fabric of her dress.

  She was dead, Stephanie realized, seeing Maia there. They were all dead.

  She jerked awake, coming to a sitting position and blinking in the afternoon light that streamed through the window.

  She scrubbed a hand over her face.

  The dream faded away, like smoke, tendrils of it lingering in the corners of her mind.

  She blinked, taking a moment to remember where she was. The room was easily twice as big as her student apartment, the large bed and thick carpet screamed luxury. There was even a chaise lounge beside the bed.

  She was in Ana’s bedroom at the embassy.

  The door opened and Stephanie turned to see Ana closing the door behind her. She leaned against the door for a moment and Stephanie wondered what had happened to make her look so weary. She climbed out of bed, planning to give Ana a hug, not sure if she was going to offer her comfort or search her mind for what was wrong.

  Ana straightened. “We need to talk.”

  “Okay,” Stephanie sat down on the edge of the bed.

  Ana stayed where she was.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I knew you were in trouble,” Ana cleared her throat.

  Stephanie felt the blood drain from her face. “What did you do?”

  “There are people. Their job is to protect me.”

  “Your body guards?”

  “Among others... one of them was following you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh? That’s all you have to say?”

  “What did they find?” How good were they at their jobs? Good enough to see past her cover? Good enough to look into her history? Were there even any records that went beyond Ecrune?

  “You went to a reporter.”

  Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief before she saw the expression in Ana’s eyes. They were shining, narrowed beneath pinched brows. Her cheeks were flushed.

  “How could you?”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “What am I supposed to think? What was it? Drugs? You needed money to pay someone off so you sold me out?” She laughed, low and bitter.

  “No, I didn’t tell her anything.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I swear, Ana. It wasn’t about us.”

  “What was it about then?”

  “Um... a friend of mine has an internship there. I was looking for a job.”

  Ana shook her head.

  She couldn’t tell her the truth.

  She had to tell her the truth.

  “I can’t...” her voice broke. It felt like something was twisting her insides into a knot. She couldn’t breathe. She felt like she was going to throw up.

  “Then I can’t trust you.”

  “Please, Ana-”

  She left, slamming the door behind her.

  What am I going to do?

  Tears scolded her cheeks.

  Her wrist buzzed and she swung her arm up, glancing down at the holographic display. Jefferson was requesting a face-to-face.

  She brushed her tears aside and opened the call.

  “You need to come home,” he said, without preamble. Dr. Volkov hovered over his shoulder.

  “I’m in the middle of something.”

  “Home. Your grandmother called.”

  Stephanie’s eyes opened wide. She was being called back to the center? Now? They’d found out about the reporter. Or Maia.

  She cleared her throat. “Did something happen?”

  “She fell.” Agent Jefferson narrowed his eyes, studying her carefully. “We should leave tonight.”

  “I can’t,” the words were out of her mouth without thinking.

  Jefferson raised an eyebrow.

  “And why not?” Dr. Volkov asked.

  “I had a fight with Ana, if I leave now, everything will be ruined.”

  “Family comes first,” Jefferson said, through gritted teeth.

  Stephanie could only imagine how much worse this conversation would be if it were on a secure server or worse, face to face.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Stephanie-”

  “I can’t leave now.”

  “Do you know what your refusal to come with me will mean to your grandmother?”

  “I understand.”

  She closed the call. Her hands were shaking. She leaned back in the bed, folding her arms around herself like she was hugging someone.

  Maia?

  Yes?

  What did I just do?

  Chapter Nineteen

  She’d officially lost her mind. Hearing voices hadn’t been enough. The paranoia that someone was going to find out about Maia. They were nothing compared to this. She’d disobeyed a direct order.

  She didn’t think anyone had ever done that before. Not in the history of the corporation. She thought they’d done something on a genetic level to instill loyalty, if that was even possible. Maybe this was just another sign that she was a defective model. The last in a long line of screw ups, but the first they’d found out about.

  We should leave, Maia said.

  Stephanie didn’t move.

  You can’t seriously still be trying to patch things up with Ana. She’s not going to forgive you and you have bigger things to worry about. Like not dying!

  I’m going to tell Ana everything, Stephanie said. She’ll be able to protect us.

  Maia snorted. If she decides we’re worth protecting. You saw the look on her face when she thought you’d gone to the media. How do you think she’s going to react when she finds out you’re a genetically engineered spy who can read her mind? Does she strike you as the type who’d be down with that kind of invasion of privacy?

  It might take her a while to get used to the idea, Stephanie admitted.

  And what’s to stop her from just handing you over to military research on her planet?

  I don’t-

  That’s right, you don’t know. You’re trusting someone you’ve known for barely a minute.

  I’ve seen into her soul.

  She hasn’t seen yours... I know you want to trust her, but think about this logically. Does she have any reason to trust you? Does she have a reason to think that you’re worth saving?

  Stephanie searched her memories for something, anything she could use as an argument against Maia.

  She came up blank.

  Fuck you, Maia, she whispered.

  Then she stood up. Maybe there was still time to find a way off the station before they had the place surrounded.

  The door opened and Stephanie froze, watching Ana come in. Ana’s face was drained of color, her eyes downcast. A part of her ached to reach out and comfort her but she held back, knowing the gesture wouldn’t be appreciated.

  “I was just leaving,” Stephanie said.

  “Don’t.”

  Stephanie paused. Had she heard that right?

  “Don’t what?”


  Ana looked up at her for the first time since coming into the room. Something in her eyes made Stephanie’s stomach clench, like she’d been punched in the gut. Something vulnerable and pleading, like she’d asked a question she was scared to hear the answer to. She couldn’t leave her. Not like this

  Stephanie sighed.

  “What happened?” her voice came out harder than she meant it to.

  Ana winced. “I sent someone to shut the story down. Discreetly, of course. They’d never heard anything about us. I thought they were lying, giving us the brush off.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  Ana shrugged. A tendril of hair fell over one shoulder and Stephanie stared at it, mesmerized. She wondered how Ana would react if she brushed that piece of hair behind her shoulder, her fingertips only just making contact with her skin.

  “I watched the news,” Ana said. Her voice broke on the last word and she cleared her throat. “There was nothing.”

 

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