The Perfect Clone

by M. L. Stephens

  She’d been saved from that fire for a reason. She’d seen the research ad for a reason, and she was here now for a reason. This was her purpose, the one she had chosen. Thankfully, she had thought through any remaining doubts last night, and was ready to face whatever challenges there were today.

  A well-dressed older lady, whom Sarah guessed to be in her fifties, opened the office door in front of where she sat and stepped into the waiting area.

  “Ms. Mariam?”

  “Hello.” Sarah stood and shook hands, reminding herself to maintain eye contact while the introduction took place. At this point, she was fully prepared to meet and impress the President of the United States if need be. She had a solid determination to do whatever was feasibly necessary in order to be the one selected for this research. There were just a few questions she had concerning the role, but those could be asked when the time was right.

  “I’m Julia, the fertility counselor. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Come in.” The door closed behind them as they walked inside.

  This was cycle seven of evaluations. Julia had only recommended one candidate, out of the past six cycles, to pass on to Phase 3. She wasn’t sure what had happened to the girl that she’d recommended, but she’d obviously not made it through Phase 3, hence the need for the interviews to continue.

  Mr. Avery was very specific about what he was looking for psychologically from the candidates, and Julia had no intention of disappointing him by sending someone who didn’t meet with those expectations. No matter how many interviews she had to conduct, and how many cycles they had to go through, she would find another candidate.

  Julia was ready to get back to her life in the underground community, but for now she had a job to do up here.

  Sarah entered the mid-sized office and glanced around at the simple furnishings of the room.

  Positioned in the middle of the room, facing each other, were two high back peach colored chairs. Julia took a seat in one and motioned toward the other. “Please, have a seat,” she offered with a professional smile.

  Accepting the offer, Sarah sat in the available chair. She watched as the older lady leaned forward and placed coasters on each side of the table. She then lifted up a small recording device. “With your permission, I’d like to record our visit so that I can review it at a later time. I’m afraid my memory isn’t what it used to be.”

  Sarah nodded her head. “I’m young and my memory isn’t one hundred percent either, so please feel free to record. I may need to come back and listen to it myself.”

  Laughing at the young lady’s wit, Julia pressed the record button and sat the device back on the table. For recording purposes, she stated the date, time, and the candidate’s name. “Seems formal, doesn’t it?”

  Sarah tilted her head as the two women looked at each other. “I find that formality is simply an illusion which portrays itself to the individual on terms level to their own understanding.”

  Impressed with the younger lady’s conception of things, she smiled. “I couldn’t agree with you more, Ms. Mariam.”

  “Please, call me Sarah.”

  “Sarah it is.”

  Filling a glass from a rose colored pitcher, Julia placed it on Sarah’s coaster and then poured a glass for herself. After taking a long drink, the older lady sat her glass down and gracefully leaned back in the chair. Julia was quiet while she clandestinely took in the younger lady’s overall appearance. Sarah seemed comfortable, in control, and self-assured. Good. The girl’s outward appearance was promising, but it was time to find out if outward appearances were indicative of the girl’s inner self.

  Personally, Julia already liked this young lady. Unfortunately, personal preferences didn’t have a role to play in the decision making process. “Every year my throat hosts a protest against the heating system,” Julia announced. “You would think at my age, I’d be used to the seasonal changes.”

  Being from a region that didn’t have a lot of need for indoor heating, Sarah’s own throat had been dry. Now she knew why. Considering the remark, Sarah exclaimed, “What a relief! I thought the dryness was a side effect of interview jitters.”

  Smiling, Julia didn’t miss the opportunity to keep the conversation going. “Where are you from?” Naturally she knew the answer, but used the question as a door opener.

  Reaching down to quench her own dryness, Sarah immediately warmed up to the lady across from her. “I’m from Florida. We don’t have much need for artificial heating.”

  In a dreamy tone, Julia replied, “My throat and sinuses are now officially jealous.”

  Sarah laughed. “And my wardrobe is jealous of the cute hats and boots you guys get to wear.”

  It was Julia’s turn to laugh. “All you envy are our hats and boots? Cold weather coats can be fashionable too you know? Let’s not forget the fact that they work wonders at covering up various physical flaws.”

  The smile on Sarah’s face was genuine. “Then give me warmer weather or confine me to the parching effects of artificial heating and I’ll live with a dry throat. If I am blessed enough to be gifted with the chance of carrying a child in my body, I want the pleasure of seeing my physical changes every minute of every day. I’m pretty sure I’d find it difficult to cover up such an amazing miracle with a coat of any sort, so hats and boots are all I can envy.”

  Lifting the water back to her lips, Sarah paused as she voiced a thought out loud, amused at herself for even having it, “Besides, I’m positive I could pull off a toboggan and cold weather boots wearing a simple tube top and maternity shorts, given the appropriate accessories and a beautifully protruding belly, of course.” Sarah was tickled at the image she’d created in her mind.

  Conjuring up her own image of Sarah’s description, the older lady laughed. “I believe you could.”

  It wasn’t often that such a young, physically fit woman was mentally secure enough or had so little ego that the physical changes of pregnancy were considered a pleasure. Sure, they sometimes tried to convince themselves it’s what they wanted, but their remarks concerning physicality generally stated otherwise. It was her job, as a psychologist, to separate the honesty in the interviewees’ casual conversations, from what their mouths served up as perceived truths when asked direct questions. After that comment, the psychologist didn’t doubt for one minute, that Sarah could possibly be one of the few women she’d interviewed for this position, whose subconscious was in full concordance with her words.

  Cycle Seven/Phase 2 was quickly getting underway and Julia had a really good feeling about this Cycle’s first candidate.

  Chapter 14

  “Did any of the resumes grab your interest?”

  “There were two.” Dr. Hamstein slid the papers across the desk. “Do you know them?”

  Mr. Kincade picked them up and glanced over them. “I know both these ladies, and either of them would be a fine choice.” Matt knew everyone in the community and he’d also been the one to select the resumes that Igor had been given to review. There wasn’t any need for the other man to know that of course.

  “I’d like to schedule times to interview them.”

  Mr. Kincade jotted both the names on his notepad, and placed the resumes back on the desk. “Both ladies work and live in the community. There won’t be a problem with scheduling their interviews for later this afternoon.”

  Igor shouldn’t have found this surprising, given the circumstances, but he was still adjusting to the concept of how things functioned here.

  “I’m curious Mr. Kincade, do all the employees here, live here as well?”

  Crossing one leg over the other, Matt dusted imaginary lint from his perfectly starched slacks. “But of course. The same conversation that I had with you before you joined, excluding the particulars of your job of course, is almost the exact same conversation I’ve had with everyone that’s joined. The majority of the people within our community are without family on the outside, so it makes for an easier transition once they arrive. Y
ou’ll find, Dr. Hamstein that we have become each other’s extended family.”

  Still curious about the extent of life within the community, Igor pressed further. “I understood when I selected to come here, that the decision to wander outside the walls were within my rights. Do other people simply choose not to leave?”

  Matt decided to handle this question in the fairest way he knew how. “There is always a choice Dr. Hamstein. With the facility being self-contained, most find little need to venture above ground. The outside world can be a very scary place for some of the creative minds that have come to practice their professions here. It can be quite difficult to transition from free practice to limited practice.”

  Dusting off more imaginary lent, Matt continued, “As I’m sure you are well aware, the general population chooses to spend their days quarreling over scientific and religious possibilities and their controversies. Each side of the argument aims for victory in the never ending battle of ‘who knows best’.

  Igor noticed the man’s use of air quotes. He personally didn’t practice the use of them and usually found them to be extremely annoying, but he was so mesmerized by this man’s tone and his overall concern for the residents, that he felt this was the first time he’d ever seen them used as intended.

  Matt continued, “Down here, we’ve chosen to expand our human capabilities by pushing the creative envelope. We limit ourselves only by our desires to achieve what seems impossible, while striving to reach new pinnacles of scientific success. The only wrong we’ve allowed room for, given the drastic measures we’ve gone through to create this communal utopia, is the choice not to explore the unknown. Once you made the choice to join us with this particular endeavor however, that wrong was eliminated from your repertoire.”

  The attorney uncrossed his legs. “Now, let’s get back to your question, doctor. Everyone has the choice to leave the compound, but most avoid the emotional conflict and choose not to utilize it. Without family or friends on the outside, life beyond these walls seems rather empty I suppose.”

  Standing up and walking over to the bookshelf, Matt selected a medical journal and turned the cover to face the man behind the desk. “Knowledge is a horrible thing to waste on frivolous tasks. Imagine what mankind could create without imposed restrictions. It’s a shame that the outside world doesn’t have the same freedoms that we so readily enjoy here. So much potential talent is lost in the useless bindings of governmental regulations.”

  Placing the journal back on the shelf, Mr. Kincade sat down. “Did you find a chance to look at the equipment?”

  Having lost himself in Matt’s passionate answer, Igor felt he’d plummeted down the rabbit hole and was struggling to find his way back, when the man changed the subject by asking the question. Matt had the ability to make every word come to life. “Yes, the equipment, the layout, the supplies, everything is more than adequate.”

  Joining his hands together, Matt gently laid them on his lap. “Have you had a chance to review the medical charts that were sent?”

  “Briefly,” he replied. Igor wasn’t accustomed to revealing client information with someone outside the practice and wasn’t sure what the other man knew or what information he was digging for.

  “Given your knack for details, and your obvious love for your work, I doubt that it was brief.” Offering up a laugh to make light of the awkward transition in the conversation, Matt smiled.

  “I should fill you in on where we stand at this point. We are currently in our seventh cycle of interviews. Every cycle exists of four stages. The initial stage is the selection phase. First the subject applies for the program. We go through each application with a fine tooth comb. Once we narrow the group down, extensive background research takes place. If the candidate is able to pass this stage, she moves into Phase 1. During Phase 1, the women are brought in for physical exams and medical reviews. Family medical and psychological profiles are checked. If they are fortunate enough to pass that phase, they are then moved into Phase 2. During the second phase, a psychological evaluation of the candidate is conducted. Mr. Avery has formulated a very specific idea of what he’s looking for during that process. Trust me when I say this. ‘If few women make it through the first Phase, even fewer make it past Phase 2’. As of this morning, there were just three remaining candidates entering that Phase.”

  Balancing his chin on folded knuckles, Igor’s elbows burrowed against the desk, supporting the added weight. “If there are three left, then it’s safe to assume I’m Phase 3, considering I have three medical charts.”

  “You are safe in that assumption. There is never a guarantee that any of the research applicants will make it to you during any given cycle. The standards for this project are extremely high. We don’t mind taking our time to find the perfect one.”

  “Out of the previous six cycles, how many have made it through to Phase 3?”

  Clearing his throat to add to the seriousness of the conversation, Matt solemnly replied, “One.”

  “Where is she, can you get her here today?”

  Matt shook his head in regret. “She’s no longer qualified to participate.”

  “May I ask why?” Igor was slightly baffled.

  “She was successfully implanted with the embryo. At twelve weeks, the fetus mutated and stopped growth. Due to the difficult nature of the miscarriage, a D & C was performed. The procedure compromised the physical evidence of her virginity, thus no longer allowing her to be qualified for participation in our research.”

  “In our previous conversation, you said that the research was to determine if a virgin birth was possible. So the subject is required to have her hymen in place in order to be qualified?” Igor was somewhat horrified.

  “Yes, we are very specific about that requirement.”

  “You realize that the hymen can break for numerable reasons, reasons that have nothing to do with intercourse or inappropriate conduct? The membrane is very fragile. A girl could fall out of a tree and lose her virginity as far as your archaic process is concerned,” Igor chastised.

  “I understand your views Dr. Hamstein, and I don’t dispute them. But it is the only way to scientifically prove that the subject we choose is unarguably untouched. There can be no room for accusations or doubt. That’s the nature of the beast I’m afraid.”

  “I don’t agree with the process, but I do see the validity behind this particular scientific reasoning. So, because of the extensive background research, along with the presence of the membrane, you feel assured that the claim of virginity will hold solid with the public at large?”

  Matt’s answer was strident, “That’s correct.”

  “I thought this research would remain underground.”

  Picking at another piece of nonexistent lint and rubbing his fingers to discard it, Matt’s voice carried a sad tone, something completely unexpected by the other man. Taking a deep breath, Mr. Kincade released an extended sigh before explaining.

  “The presence of the hymen will forever be considered one of man’s greatest downfalls when judging the purity of a girl. I will agree with you on that. For the purpose of this project and only because the subject chooses to be examined, can we proceed with confidence. The medical records will corroborate the claim. There are so many young girls that are devastated when they learn that their virginity is devastatingly considered invalid. Perhaps one day, the world at large will consider the nature of a female’s upbringing, along with her will to avoid precarious situations, and her family’s ability to protect her from wrong doing, will be enough to prove what she knows to be true.” Determined to separate himself from the torment that some cultural rituals forced upon young girls, Mr. Kincade shook his head to clear away the thoughts.

  Allowing the man to collect himself, Igor prompted the next question. “What happened to the doctor that preformed the first surgery? I take it I’m his replacement.”

  Nodding yes in agreement, Matt answered, “He’s moved on I’m afraid. It seems that l
ife underground isn’t for everyone.”

  That was an understatement. The truth was that Cara had helped him move on. He’d gone upside and was overheard discussing his work with a fellow physician over one too many drinks. That was the thing about the outside, there were plenty of friends who knew about the underground and were more than eager to assist in its protection. Their assistance gained them medical favors that couldn’t otherwise be afforded.

  Mr. Avery wasn’t one to base finality on suspicion and gossip alone. He’d sent Cara to investigate first hand. In the case of the previous doctor, the gossip had proven true. Exit old doctor, enter new. Such was the sequence of all progression throughout history.

  Mr. Kincade resumed the discussion. “An interesting thing about humanity, even the simplest of people can learn to adapt to new surroundings when they elect to. Think about the expansive nature of it. A grandmother now communicates with her grandchildren on social websites. We talk to each other without the use of land lines. Islands are created by engineers and artificial organ replacements have been grown from patient stem cells. If something is made obtainable, man is wired to gain control of it and to improve upon it, until that thing becomes second nature. It’s fear of the unknown that separates the general population from us Dr. Hamstein. We aren’t afraid to push the boundaries of what is acceptable. Acceptance becomes just a matter of integrating your discovery into the population at large and allowing them to create their own need for it. So in answer to the second part of your earlier question, ‘yes’, the research is underground, but only until nature presents the opportunity for introduction into the general population.”

  Igor leaned back in his chair. He was beginning to see the clarity in not needing to venture out into the world. Surrounding yourself with such innovative thinkers and modern conveniences would leave little interest for simplicity.

  Tapping his hand on one knee Mr. Kincade decided to change the subject. “I find the need to stop myself, before I bore you to tears.”