Perfection

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by J. L. Spelbring




  Perfection

  J. L. Spelbring

  The personification of Aryan purity, Ellyssa's spent her whole life under her creator's strict training and guidance; her purpose is to eradicate inferior beings. She was genetically engineered to be the perfect soldier: strong, intelligent, unemotional, and telepathic.

  Only Ellyssa isn't perfect.

  Ellyssa feels emotions--a fact she's spent her life concealing. Until she encounters the epitome of inferiority: a dark-haired boy raised among renegades hiding since the Nazis won the war a century ago. He speaks to her telepathically, pushing thoughts into her mind, despite the impossibility of such a substandard person having psychic abilities.

  But he does.

  His unspoken words and visions of a place she's never visited make Ellyssa question her creator. Confused and afraid her secret will be discovered, Ellyssa runs away, embarking on a journey where she discovers there is more to her than perfection.

  PERFECTION

  by

  J.L. SPELBRING

  To my mom & kat who taught me the meaning of perseverance.

  1

  Ellyssa, a.k.a. Subject 62, sprinted through the dark alley with a black messenger bag slapping against her thigh. The sirens that had pierced the night an hour earlier had finally faded, but she still wasn’t safe.

  Her mind raced as it flipped through the map she’d memorized. Turn right here, left there. She had to reach the train that would take her away from Chicago. There she might find safety…or her death.

  She slipped behind a metal dumpster and backed up against the brick wall, blending into the shadows, breaths coming in gasps. Panic edged her nerves, and she released the reins.

  For a few blissful moments, Ellyssa allowed herself to bathe in the physiological effects of panic. She felt her heart slam against her ribs and blood rush through her veins. But not for long. Panic brought less desirable traits—uncertainty and paranoia. She understood why her father would find the emotion useless, hindering the goals of a soldier and, therefore, had worked to eradicate it.

  Regardless, it was an emotion, and she relished the feeling before she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing and heart rate, reining in the panic and tucking it away. Ellyssa opened her eyes, her face now a blank slate, completely unreadable.

  She looked out from behind her cover and peered into the alley. Dark shadows wavered, but nothing solid moved. She reached with her mind, searching for any presence. Silence greeted her.

  Pulling into the shadows, Ellyssa settled back against the wall and looked at the lightening sky. Soon morning would bring the shift change.

  She unbuttoned the white lab coat, the uniform she’d been required to wear at The Center for Genetic Research and Eugenics, revealing a white blouse and tan skirt she’d stolen from the laundry. A couple of dark marks soiled the hem of the skirt, but the stains were small and unnoticeable. She shoved the hated lab coat into the dumpster, along with her old life. Kansas City was her new destination. She didn’t know why, but that was what the dark-haired prisoner had put into her head.

  Pinks and purples crept across the night sky, extinguishing the stars. Afterward, the muffled steps of the workers reached her ears from the street. With her bag tucked under her arm, she pulled her shoulders back and strolled into the sea of blond-haired, blue-eyed people on N. Michigan Avenue.

  Hitler’s vision of purity realized.

  Everyone was dressed according to their jobs: the tan bottoms and white shirts of the business industry; the light blue coveralls of the city workers; the yellow smocks of the service industries; the dark blue and black authoritative colors of Schutzpolizei and the Gestapo, Swastika bands wrapped around their biceps.

  The regular citizens all carried similar genetic makeups. Hair colors were variations of blond, shades of blue dominated the eyes, and both men and women had thin gymnast physiques. Even with all their similar attributes, not one ordinary citizen shared the ensemble of characteristics Ellyssa and her siblings possessed, including their intelligence…or their genetically-enhanced abilities.

  The workers walked with their backs straight and heads held high as they maneuvered through the crowded streets, each to their assigned destinations. Much to Ellyssa’s dismay, several dark blue uniforms and black coats walked amongst the pedestrians or stood to the side watching as the shift change occurred. She had to keep a low profile.

  A female dressed in business attire, with a sharp nose and thin lips, stopped and stared at Ellyssa. Although her boyishly-styled hair was platinum like Ellyssa’s and her siblings’, her beady eyes were not the pure azure color, but more teal.

  Ellyssa slipped a smile on her face with ease. Although happiness is pointless and weakens you, her father would say, a smile deceives the ones beneath you and can be used to your advantage. “Sorry, I dropped a paper and it blew into the alley,” she said as a light breeze lifted her pale hair.

  The woman raised an eyebrow, causing Ellyssa’s smooth calm to falter. The woman looked familiar, and Ellyssa didn’t like the way she was staring. She wondered if the female questioned her Germanic accent, even though it was slight. She knew most citizens spoke English, just as the Americans had before The War. Certainly, though, accents were not a thing of the past.

  Glancing at the nearest male in a black coat, she dug into her front pocket and pulled out a yellowed sheet. “Important notes.” Nerves fluttered in her chest and a bead of perspiration formed on her forehead. Lingering anxiety. She pulled the reins on her feelings.

  The businesswoman scrutinized her for a moment longer, then nodded and allowed Ellyssa in front of her with a customary pleasant smile.

  “Thank you,” Ellyssa said politely, as all citizens spoke. She took the offered space and, when facing away from the stranger, quietly exhaled pent-up air before falling into cadence alongside the others.

  As Ellyssa walked, she kept her expression void while awe worked wonders on her brain. Besides field-training exercises far away from civilization, she’d never been outside of The Center’s walls and, although approved learning books had provided illustrations, seeing the actual architecture was fascinating. Workers melted into the brown and red brick factories and warehouses built along the street.

  A bit further, other workers departed to enter different types of service stores with huge glass fronts displaying generic store names like “groceries” or “computers.”

  Ellyssa would’ve liked walking inside one of the stores to browse, but her newfound freedom wouldn’t allow for such trivial pursuits. If she didn’t make it to the train, she’d be eradicated as easily as the prohibited emotions she felt.

  By the time she reached the bridge crossing the Chicago River, most of the crowd had dwindled down. Family homes nestled in neighborhoods popped up along the street. The windows were dark, and Ellyssa knew for the most part the houses lay empty, kids in school and parents performing assigned tasks.

  She wondered what it’d be like to return home from work and watch a movie on a television set or listen to music or even to lounge on a couch; things she had encountered in her approved readings but never experienced within the confines of the sterile white walls of The Center. Of course, she had been bred to be superior to ordinary citizens, and her father held views of such inconsequential clutter restricting the mind.

  “When cattle are happily grazing, they never raise their heads to know their surroundings,” her father had preached.

  Now, being on the run, she doubted she would ever experience such things.

  Ellyssa forced her eyes back toward the road. According to her calculations, Himmler was less than sixteen hundred meters away. At Himmler, she would turn right and walk another eight hundred meters to South Canal Street, where she would make a left t
oward Union Station. Once there, she’d show her forged papers and board the train to Kansas City, the place the dark-haired Renegade had told her to go a few days ago.

  Ellyssa had just stepped out of a training room as the guards dragged the Renegade toward interrogation. Although the Renegade’s arms and legs were bound and tape held his mouth shut, he’d struggled against the muscular men. Mussed black hair had been clotted with dirt, and his cheek was green from an old bruise. As if the prisoner knew she was watching, his head craned over his shoulder and his chestnut brown eyes, wide and scared, locked on hers.

  She’d started to open her mind to his thoughts, but she hadn’t needed to. The Renegade had forced himself in. Kansas City screamed into her mind. Ellyssa had reeled at the strength of his words. No one had ever done that. She snagged people’s words and feelings. Startled, she’d thrown up her psychic wall, like a stone barricade, to stop his voice before her siblings and father saw the stress on her face.

  The door to interrogation had closed, and she had never seen him again. But later that evening when she had been sitting in her room, his voice had called again.

  “Don’t forget. Kansas City,” he had said inside her head.

  Covering her ears, she’d tried to block his intrusion. His frantic words were too much for her barrier, repeating over and over again, beating against her skull. On the verge of losing control of the façade she’d carefully constructed since she’d been a child, the incursion stopped, like a switch had been flipped.

  Carefully concealed fear had kept the encounter secret, but curiosity had made her obsessed with him and his special ability. It’d beckoned her, like a flower to a bee.

  On her quest to find answers, she’d stumbled across information her eyes were not meant to see—a plan that would lead to her and her siblings’ demise. Twenty-four hours after her discovery, she was walking down N. Michigan Ave.

  Lost in thought, her barricade weak, Ellyssa didn’t detect the mumbled words as they entered her head at first. They floated in under the daydream of the unknown male. Blinking, she snapped from her self-induced hypnosis.

  The female with the thin lips still walked behind her. Ellyssa could feel the mind she struggled to keep quiet. There was a leak, though. Hatred and jealousy floated in the undercurrents. Ellyssa waited for the floodgates to open.

  Should I stop her now? No, I’ll wait to see if she turns toward the station, the female thought.

  The female was a Kripolizei, one of the undercover detectives from her father’s center. Panic shot up Ellyssa’s spine and her gait faltered. She couldn’t afford to alert the detective. Forcing herself to relax, she resumed what she hoped was a casual pace.

  Her father must have discovered the lies she concocted. Using her fingerprints and eye scan, Ellyssa had created a false identity and bank account to buy a train ticket. She had then programmed the computer to completely erase her old identity from the mainframe when she swiped the new card. Ellyssa had become nonexistent, and Vada Owen, the secretary, had been born.

  Before she reached Himmler, Ellyssa made a hard left at the legal crosswalk, crossed N. Michigan Ave., turned right, and walked along the sidewalk of Hitler Park. The park would be empty. Caregivers wouldn’t bring young children for morning play until nine. Hoping the detour would throw the detective off her original plans, she entered the park via an obscured path. The trees closed around them.

  Confusion emanated from the detective as she followed. “Excuse me, but the park is closed,” she said in impeccable German. She placed her hand on Ellyssa’s shoulder. “I believe you should come with me. Your name’s Ellyssa, is it not?”

  At the detective’s touch, Ellyssa bristled. Reining in the response to break the detective’s hand, she stopped and faced her.

  “My name is Detective Petersen. Dr. Hirch is worried about you.” She smiled a smile that didn’t come close to reaching her eyes and flashed a badge. “I think it’s best if I escort you back home.”

  “Please, I would like to finish my walk first,” Ellyssa responded in English.

  The detective frowned. “I’m sorry, but you’ll need to come with me. Now.” She grasped Ellyssa by the upper arm.

  Anger surged forth, wiping away any trepidation, but Ellyssa expressed nothing. She would not be returning to The Center.

  She transferred her bag to the left hand and proceeded with the detective, but before they reached the edge of the pathway, she twisted, lifting her hand. Detective Petersen failed to respond as the messenger bag connected with her face. Grunting in pain, the detective covered her nose with her hands as she stumbled over an exposed root and fell.

  Ellyssa watched as the side of the detective’s head smacked into the thick trunk of an elm. The Kripo dropped to her side and rolled over, groaning. Then she went quiet.

  Kneeling, Ellyssa pressed her fingers against the detective’s carotid artery. The pulse was a little erratic, but strong. She moved the detective’s head to the side and assessed the injury. Blood oozed from a small gash.

  Ellyssa stood and stepped over the detective, moving away from the path. Hidden within the trees, she set her bag down and removed blue coveralls and blunt-end scissors. She pulled the coveralls over her clothes and proceeded to snip off her long mane above the elastic band. Her hair fell loose. Running her fingers through the soft locks, she arranged it the best she could without the aid of a mirror. She picked up her bag and backtracked to the path. The detective was still out cold. Ellyssa dragged her behind a bush.

  With caution, she left the park and proceeded to Himmler. The street lay empty before her. She kept her mind open, though, just in case. Nothing invoked suspicion as she neared Union Station. The hum of people’s thoughts loudly rang in her head. Ellyssa slid her mental wall into place, cutting off the continuous stream. She’d have to rely on her instincts.

  Ellyssa faltered on the steps of the train station. The pictures she’d seen didn’t compare to the actual beauty. So much she had missed in her prison-style home.

  Union Station had been completed in May 1925, way before The War. The Beaux-Arts style of architecture shouted the neoclassical movement of the era. The exterior had been constructed from Indian limestone and featured Tuscan columns and arches.

  Wishing she had time to appreciate the fine details on her first visit to the city, she remained stone-face and continued moving before she attracted unwanted attention. She walked past the grand columns and entered the building.

  The interior was even more beautiful than the outside. Ellyssa descended the steps into the Grand Hall. Pink Tennessee marble lined the floors, Corinthian columns reached the ceiling, and pilasters decorated the terracotta walls. Lifting her chin, she gazed at the vaulted skylight that rose over thirty meters above her head.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” said a male wearing a yellow smock. His dirty-blond bangs were gelled, exposing a broad forehead.

  She stepped back. Her hand tensed around the strap of her bag as she quickly swept his mind before the barrage of images from the station patrons attacked her. The stranger was harmless.

  He smiled. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Can I help you?”

  Ellyssa returned his gesture of friendliness. “Yes, this is my first day,” she lied. “Can you point me in the direction of the janitorial closet?”

  The male turned and pointed toward a set of signs. “If you turn right there and head down the stairs, directly to your left there will be a sign that says, ‘Employees Only’.”

  “Thank you.” She began to walk away.

  “Wait.”

  Ellyssa’s shoulders clenched. Anger bubbled at her response. She had spent her life training, keeping emotions in check, her physical response unreadable, and now she was going to let some ordinary citizen get the best of her? She forced herself to relax while plastering another smile across her lips and facing him. “Yes.”

  “Did you check in with the shift supervisor?”

  “No, not yet.”<
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  “I can walk with you and show you the office.”

  The tension reached her jaw-line. “That would be fine,” she managed without clenching her teeth, “but do you think I can visit the facilities first, please?”

  “They are on the way.” He extended a hand to the opposite set of stairs. “First day jitters?” he asked as she passed him.

  A tentative grin pulled the corners of her mouth. “It shows?”

  “Not too bad. You’ll do fine.” He turned and walked next to her. “Where were you assigned?”

  Ellyssa wished he would just shut up, or that an opportunity would arise where she could make him. She knew he wouldn’t be any match for her. Her expertise in the martial arts along with her extensive weapons training put regular citizens at a great disadvantage against her. She shrugged and offered him another smile. He seemed pleased.

  “I understand. Don’t want to talk about it. Well, I promise you will love working here. The people you meet passing through are very interesting.”

  “I’m not sure if my present position will offer such pleasantries.”

  He glanced at her coveralls and didn’t say anything else. They continued the rest of the way in silence.

  When they reached the restroom, he said, “I have to get back to work. Follow this hall to the end and the office is on the right. You can’t miss it.” He stood there.

  “Oh, yes. Thank you. It was very nice to meet you.”

  He beamed. “It was nice to meet you, too.” He held out his hand. “My name is Peter.”

  She grasped his hand with false enthusiasm.

  “Maybe we will run into each other soon?”

  “Maybe.” She turned and escaped through the door marked, FEMALES.

  Disinfectant hovered in the air of the immaculate restroom. Shining white tile gleamed under the fluorescent lights. Eggshell sinks hung on the right, and beige stalls stood to the left.

 

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