The Eden Experiment

by Sean Platt

  CHAPTER 48

  FRIEND OR FOE

  The first person Ephraim and Sophie ran into, other than another Elle and Nolon on the Retreat, was an exceptionally tall man with broad shoulders.

  “Nice to meet you,” he said. “I’m Altruance.”

  Ephraim had seen him coming, and thus had time to hide his shock. It was hard to miss the man’s enormous form, even with his face so many years younger. If there was a silver lining to this chance encounter, it was that this Altruance’s youth meant this wasn’t the real one — which, for now at least, meant Ephraim wouldn’t have to decide whether or not the real Altruance had betrayed him before Neven and a bullet sent him into the water.

  Alive or dead? Friend or foe?

  The questions surrounding Altruance would have to be shelved. This wasn’t one of the feral clones who’d chased them from the research facility, nor was it the real Altruance. It was only a clone, like Sophie. Safe and ignorant, for now.

  An enormous hand extended toward Ephraim. He took and shook it, felt his palm swallowed, made himself smile. “Ephraim Todd,” he said. Then, feeling reckless, “I think we’ve met.”

  And Altruance said, “You know, I think so, too. But I can’t remember where.”

  “I’ve been to Eden before,” Ephraim said.

  “That can’t be it,” Altruance said. “This is my first time.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Two weeks?”

  But according to the commercial, Eden had just reopened.

  “You were here through the construction?”

  “Construction?”

  “Wasn’t there a fire? Didn’t a lot of the island burn?” Like, the whole thing?

  Slowly, Altruance shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “How long has Eden been around, do you know?”

  “I’m not sure,” Altruance said.

  Ephraim could tell this was a question he’d never been asked, an issue he’d never considered. The clone’s incomplete mind was trying to fabricate an answer just as his lips were trying to form sensible words. But behind them, Ephraim could see the truth in Altruance’s eyes.

  How long has Eden been around, Altruance?

  Forever, he’d answer. Forever and ever and ever, since the beginning of time.

  “Have you seen Wallace?” he asked, killing the loop.

  “Wallace who?”

  “Wallace Connolly,” Ephraim said.

  His fingers flexed halfway into a fist. Confused thoughts spun through his mind. He’d thought plenty about Eden over the past months, but most of those thoughts had centered on his narrow escape. He’d never wanted to return, so why had he felt so suddenly compelled to be here? And when had these odd thoughts entered his head?

  Why am I here? What am I doing on Eden, now that everything’s gone wrong?

  But deep down, Ephraim knew what he had to do. His mind whispered the answer to him.

  “Wallace Connolly,” Ephraim repeated. He had to say the words to make the moment real. Everything felt fake. Eden was dead; Altruance Brown was dead; Sophie Norris was killing time in her LA mansion. And yet here was Ephraim, on Eden, with Sophie and Altruance. Just like old times. Was it happening, or was this another delusion?

  Wallace Connolly.

  And without Ephraim’s conscious permission, his fingers flexed, halfway into fists.

  Wallace Connolly is dead. Dead like your brother. Dead like Jonathan. Maybe Fiona wasn’t to blame. Maybe Eden was.

  “I’ve never met Wallace,” Altruance said.

  Ephraim smiled, reminding himself that this was supposed to be a casual chat. “No big deal.”

  Altruance was squinting. “You know, you do seem familiar.”

  “I know what it was,” Ephraim said, snapping his fingers. “Right after I cut an eye out of my brother’s clone, I watched you die.”

  Something inside Altruance’s mind short-circuited, burying the information. It was too much. He must have misheard. There were no misdeeds on Eden, and naturally Altruance Brown had never met this nobody named Ephraim before.

  “Come on,” Altruance said with a giant smile. “I’ll show you around.”

  CHAPTER 49

  HOME

  The tour felt like a maddening waste of time. Ephraim listened to Altruance’s narrative, remembering Elle and Nolon giving the same tour before. Part of Ephraim tried to believe he’d never heard it. This was his life’s do-over, a chance to reboot and believe in paradise, where he wasn’t wanted by every agency stateside and his best friends weren’t also his enemies.

  “Gus Harmon is staying in that house,” Altruance said. “Have you ever seen any of his movies?”

  Gus? Ephraim’s head was already spinning. Gus hadn’t undergone the Tomorrow Gene, so there couldn’t be clones of him like there were of Sophie and Altruance. Was Altruance wrong? Or had Gus been invited back to Eden as part of the grand reopening — a chance for Eden to prove that even fire couldn’t kill it?

  “And that one’s Pierra Page. She comes off harsh but is a lot nicer than you’d think.” He pointed again. “Richard Dean, Molly McDonald, Titus Washington, Bridget Crow, Mia Chase, Alma Couch. We’re a little community. It’s nice.” He pointed. “And that’s your place there.”

  “Mine or Sophie’s?”

  “Aren’t you staying together?”

  Even Altruance Brown knew that Sophie Norris was bottom-feeding with some schlub from the east coast.

  “Sorry. Yes.”

  “Well, there you go.”

  “Why are you giving this tour, Altruance? You’re a guest. You don’t work here.”

  “I just saw you coming. Thought I’d say hi.”

  “Where is everyone?” The island was almost deserted, and nobody was visible in or around any of the homes Altruance had pointed out.

  Altruance shrugged. “Inside, I guess.”

  “I expected more of a crowd. A bunch of people coming in on the tram. As far as grand re-openings go, this party’s sort of a dud.”

  “What do you mean, ‘re-opening’?”

  Ephraim shook his head. “Never mind.”

  “You want to play volleyball? There’s a game on the south lawn.” Altruance chuckled. “I promise; I suck even though I’m tall.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Get some drinks? Oh, and you know they have Lucky Scream here.”

  Sure they did. And it was a drug Ephraim would never, ever, ever take again.

  Ever.

  “We’re fine,” he said.

  Sophie clasped his hand.

  “Well,” Altruance said, “if you need anything, just ask.”

  “I just need to find Wallace Connolly.”

  “You could ask at Reception.”

  “Or Neven.”

  “Who is Neven?”

  “If Wallace Connolly died, Neven is the man who’d replace him.”

  Altruance’s face registered no surprise. He said, “Try Reception,” then waved and walked toward a path up the hill. To a home higher up the bluff.

  The fancy home away from the sea belonged to Altruance.

  Maybe forever.

  “Do you want to go to Reception?” Sophie asked.

  But to reach Reception, Ephraim would need to get back on the tram. He was tired. And besides, there was no way Reception could, or would, help him. That would be like going to the White House, visiting the front desk, and asking if the President was in.

  “Come on,” Sophie said, tugging his hand toward the cluster of rentals Altruance had shown them from above.

  “Come on where?”

  “Home.”

  CHAPTER 50

  A BETTER COPY

  Sophie wanted sex.

  She was excellent at suggesting it, and Ephraim was almost out of willpower. He was weakened by adrenaline, adrenaline hangover, the all-day plane trip, and multiple changes of allegiance. Also by the fact that everything here on Eden was 1) too easy and 2) fake like an al
l-plastic 3D déjà vu.

  He had many reasons to just go with it and engage in consensual relations with the beautiful woman who loved him. But with the last of his resolve, Ephraim reminded himself of two important things. First, Sophie couldn’t love him. They barely knew each other no matter what she thought. Second, it couldn’t be truly consensual if the trust behind that consent was based on lies.

  So as aroused as he was, Ephraim told Sophie he was too tired. Maybe they could do it later. He went into one of the mansion’s several bathrooms and masturbated, returning to find Sophie in one of the other bathrooms with bath water running. She emerged refreshed. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who’d opted for some DIY relief.

  They slept. It was the middle of the day on Eden, but the end of what felt like a week’s worth of being awake to Ephraim — and Ephraim, more than most, knew what “a week’s worth of being awake” felt like.

  There were many bedrooms and at first Ephraim tried to sleep in a different one than Sophie. Sophie, however, would have none of it. She wouldn’t be left alone again; and anyway, he didn’t want her more than an arm’s length away. Besides, he’d done the right thing and stopped short of sex. What would be the harm in sleeping beside her? It would make her feel good. It would make him feel good. And if, in the morning, sex felt more justified because he’d have refrained enough and put in some time? Well, then there’d be convenience there, too.

  They slept in the same master bedroom as Ephraim had during his previous visit — convenient, since the house itself was almost identical, different only upon closest inspection. The bathroom Sophie had used was off the big bedroom, and from bed Ephraim could see the glass shower he’d used after he and the original Altruance had watched a ghost worker shredded by a lawnmower.

  They shared the bed, separated by mere feet. Sophie slept first. As Ephraim drifted off, he thought of the question he’d tried to raise with her earlier.

  If you were a clone, would you want to know it?

  It was a hypothetical that, for Sophie, wasn’t as speculative as she’d have thought.

  Sleep finally came to him. At first there was only darkness, but eventually, Ephraim dreamed. In his dream, he was in a laboratory wearing a lab coat. It was Clone Jonathan’s lab, here on Eden. Wallace was somewhere nearby. The dream felt a while back — maybe a decade. In here it didn’t matter if that timeline jibed with real life.

  In the dream, a teenager entered the room. He had a short haircut, almost shaved. His eyebrows were thick and dark. He had the scant beginnings of facial hair. He was too young to grow that big beard. For now, he was only a kid.

  Neven, said a voice — Wallace Connolly, now behind Ephraim, standing beside Jonathan. If you were a clone, would you want to know it?

  And the boy said, Yes, Dad. I’d want to know.

  What we’re doing here? Wallace went on. It’s a crime that it’s criminal. That’s why Eden exists.

  We need to fix nature’s mistakes, Teenage Neven said, nodding agreement.

  And Wallace, with a suddenly concerned expression, said, I wouldn’t go that far.

  Undaunted, Neven slid a large butcher’s knife from somewhere behind him — a blade far too large to have been hiding in his belt anywhere other than a dream. He turned and slammed the knife into Jonathan’s chest.

  It’s fine, Neven told his father. We made a better one to replace him.

  The dream ended. Ephraim awoke with his heart pounding.

  The room was mostly dark, meaning he’d slept for hours despite it feeling like minutes. He was sweating, the covers a clammy mess beneath him. His sleep shorts were sticking to his legs. Sunlight would have helped blow the dream’s image away, but the dark kept it close.

  He couldn’t shake it. Even as Ephraim gathered his bearings — even as he re-oriented to the oddity of being back on Eden, in a bed that had been ashes months ago — he couldn’t fully exit the dream.

  He kept seeing the bloody knife buried in his brother’s chest.

  He kept seeing Neven’s quiet face, innocent and ambitious and twisted all at once.

  He tried to slow his breathing, to quiet his hammering heart. He blinked, trying to remind his wakened mind that none of what he’d just seen had been real. But the images stuck. Until he stood and shook himself out, the dream would stay with him.

  He reached for the nightstand and flicked the switch on the bedside lamp.

  “Sophie,” he said, “I had a bad dream.”

  But the right side of the bed was vacant, the covers thrown back.

  Ephraim jumped up in a panic. One by one the lights came on as he ran from room to room, searching.

  But despite keeping her close, he had somehow lost her all over again.

  The mansion was empty.

  Sophie was gone.

  CHAPTER 51

  ALMOST OVER

  There weren’t any clocks in the house. Ephraim didn’t wear a watch, and his Doodad had no signal. Its screen showed Paris time, where he’d put it into airplane mode out of commercial-flying habit. He only knew that Eden time was later than Paris, but not by how many hours. It could be 11:14 PM. It could be 3:14 AM, or 6:14, with another day ready for waking.

  But it was pitch black outside. There were no lights in the neighboring houses, along walkways out his front door, or on street lamps above the paths beyond. Every single window was dark.

  Eden didn’t even have a moon.

  “Sophie?”

  He asked it of each empty room, whispering from an unknown superstition that he should stay quiet. There was no answer, sign, or indication beyond the thrown-back covers that she’d ever been there at all.

  Neither of them had come with suitcases — something that Sophie hadn’t thought strange. Ephraim had brought a gun, a Quarry, and the clothes on his back. Sophie had only her clothes. She’d removed her bra and slept in her shirt, but even the bra was gone. Either she’d replaced it before going for a nighttime walk, or someone had snatched it.

  Maybe Sophie had never been here. Maybe she hadn’t come, and he remembered everything wrong.

  Again.

  Or maybe she’d never existed. A clone of Sophie Norris? Despite his memories, darkness turned the notion absurd. Ephraim only had thoughts that couldn’t be proven.

  He searched again. Maybe she was asleep in a corner. Maybe she was unconscious. Or dead. Maybe he wouldn’t find anything, except for clues. Were there nail scratches on the door frame, as if she’d been dragged away? Signs of a struggle?

  Ephraim saw nothing amiss.

  He turned on his Doodad’s flashlight. It barely penetrated the dark beyond his front door. The silence was too still; he could only hear the soft lapping of the night’s supernaturally calm ocean. With only the barest shadowy outlines to show him the other houses, Ephraim felt himself wondering if he was alone. Maybe this was a jungle island and the day had been a mirage. Maybe they hadn’t met Altruance Brown, seeing as Altruance was dead.

  He prowled the yard anyway, increasingly certain with each passing minute that someone was watching from the shadows. There was a gallery of observers just outside the light, standing stock still, hands crossed at their waists, wrists lightly clasped. Ephraim’s mind showed him the shadowy jury as wearing black suits and matching glasses. Without mouths, like Eden’s ghosts.

  The creeping feeling got him, and five minutes later Ephraim was back inside the brilliantly lit house. Maybe this was the only oasis away from the monsters.

  The house was quieter than the outside. Without ocean sounds, there were only the small ticks of what sounded like an unseen grandfather clock and the dark curtains in front of the windows. His nerves were paper-thin. He bolted each window and drew the curtains, sure at intervals that the dark watchers had come to peek inside when he wasn’t looking, just to see what tasty morsels might be waiting inside.

  Minute built on minute. Wasn’t there a TV in here? A clock-radio? Anything to bridge the silence until morning, when he could properly se
arch for the woman who might not have accompanied him to this island of no one?

  Someone knocked on the front door. Ephraim jumped hard enough to elbow a cut-glass lamp. It crashed to shards on the floor.

  The knock repeated. A visitor, calling in the middle of a silent night.

  Ephraim slowly rose. Gathered his nerve, wondering why the hell he was so spooked. It was only a house. A missing woman who might not have existed. A ghoul at the front door, here to claim the rest of his memories.

  He peeked through the peephole, unable to see anything, a monstrosity was only a door’s thickness away, eye to eye with him.

  He waited. Whoever had been there was gone.

  But then another knock came, and Ephraim opened the door without hesitating, the motion like yanking off a stubborn bandage.

  Neven stood in the doorway, waiting without surprise as if the situation were perfectly sensible.

  “Come with me,” he said. “It’s almost over.”

  CHAPTER 52

  UNCOMFORTABLY FAMILIAR

  The room was big and comfortable. Ephraim didn’t know for sure, but they seemed to be in Neven’s home, a short cart ride through the dark from where he’d been staying. Ephraim had lost his way on the drive, despite the headlights, but it was definitely up the slope — on top, judging by the dark but barely-seen view — and still on the Retreat. Strange. If Neven was in charge, why hadn’t he built on the finer Denizen with the permanent residents? Or better yet, on one of the otherwise unoccupied islets?

  Wherever it was, the home was plush and elegant. The room had a roaring fire to dull the edge from a surprisingly cool night. The architect had set the fireplace in the center of the room, slightly sunken. A half-dozen soft chairs and two couches were arranged in a rough ring around it. Ephraim was seated. Neven stood, lit by the orange glow and the dim lamps.

  “You’re not crazy, Ephraim.”

  Ephraim had a glass of water. Neven had offered beer, wine, liquor, and even Lucky Scream if Ephraim cared to dull the pain of what Neven warned him was coming. But Ephraim was through with mind-altering substances. His mind had been altered enough, and for whatever this was with Neven, he wanted clarity.