Preserving Will

by Alex Albrinck

  Porthos was aware of her thoughts, his thoughts, and drank the information in, plotting the best way to silence her. He wouldn’t do anything now; Will Stark would certainly notice mysterious deaths and disappearances of close family to those working to protect his home.

  While Porthos watched Gena, someone else watched him.

  Adam was there to bring Gena in for her cloning, a task best performed while Mark worked his overnight shift. They didn’t want him coming home to find her gone, and the time between the end of her work shift and the end of Mark’s provided them with the window they needed to complete the process. The appearance of Porthos didn’t help matters, and Adam gritted his teeth. Porthos was trying to determine when he should get to her apartment Monday evening so that he found her home for her permanent silencing.

  The Hunter watched the young woman step aboard a bus, made note of the time, and vanished into the night.

  Adam sighed. That was close.

  He’d brought the invisible flying craft with him this time. It would enable him to transport her quickly to and from the cloning station without an Energy trail. Now that she’d boarded the bus, he needed to find her again. He flew overhead, following the vehicle as it weaved through the city streets, watching as she stepped off at a stop a modest walk from her apartment. Street lighting was moderate, but not perfect. Adam scowled. He’d like to have a talk with Mark about leaving Gena without the car that would ensure her safe commute. How could he stand the idea of her walking the streets alone at night?

  Perhaps it no longer mattered. In a few days, the couple would leaving Pleasanton in favor of the Cavern, where there was nothing to fear from a walk alone in the dark.

  Gena wrapped her coat around her more tightly as a gust of wind howled in the night. She shifted her weight, wincing, as her feet groaned after the strain of standing for a fourteen hour shift. And then she started walking.

  Adam lowered the craft until it was just over her, the engines silent, the craft invisible to the human eye.

  And he watched as Gena paused, turned… and looked straight up at him.

  He didn’t waste any time, teleporting her into the craft while simultaneously activating the sleep centers of her brain.

  Her last thought, before she drifted into unconsciousness, was that she recognized his sound.

  ●●●

  Dana MacLean tucked Dash into his bed and kissed her son on his forehead. She hated the nights when Deron worked an overnight shift, but there was nothing to be done about it. The work was good, the official benefits generous, and the unofficial benefits were definitely something she’d never want to lose. She and Dash had adapted to Deron’s odd hours over time; she allowed her young son stay up late with her on weekends while Deron worked. They’d watch movies and eat snacks until Dash fell asleep. She’d carry the young boy up to his bed and retire to her own room, wondering how Deron was doing, and hoping against hope than nothing at all interesting happened while he worked.

  To either of them.

  She glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight already. In a few hours, Deron would be home, and she’d be up, putting together a large breakfast feast. It had become a tradition in their home, and it was one she truly enjoyed. They’d sit around the table, laughing, telling stories, while Deron ate large amounts of food. The massive calorie intake also made him drowsy, and within an hour he’d be catching up on the sleep he so desperately needed. She needed to get some rest herself in order to be ready for the alarm that would sound all too soon.

  Dana walked to the window overlooking the road below. Streetlights offered just enough illumination to show the frost covering the grass, the frost heavy enough to give the appearance of snow. She closed the curtain so that the room would be completely dark once she turned off the light.

  She felt a slight brushing sensation against her skin, and the terror rose inside her as she whirled and screamed at the sight of the two people standing in her room.

  They looked young, perhaps in their early thirties, and quite fit and healthy. Neither seemed concerned that Dana was screaming. The woman was fiddling with something that looked like a vial, while the man watched Dana with a deep curiosity. He continued to watch her while he held out a small box and depressed a button on the top. The box dissolved in his hand. She ignored the box as she screamed, watching him, waiting for the attack she was certain would come.

  But there was no malice in his eyes; rather, he looked upon her a calm sympathy.

  Too calm, given that she was screaming so loudly.

  The man finally spoke. “We apologize for startling you. I assure you that you are in no danger from us, but it is reasonable for you to doubt me. If screaming helps you, please continue to do so. But we have little time, and much to discuss with you and Dash.”

  Her scream caught in her throat at the words, and her protective instincts engaged. They could do what they wanted with her, but she’d not let them hurt Dash.

  “Dash is in no danger, either,” the man said, as if reading her mind. “We need to discuss an urgent matter relating to the future for both of you. Would you like to get him? If not, I can bring him here.”

  “I won’t let you hurt him!” Dana screamed. She charged the man, throwing herself at him, meaning to tackle him and hit and scratch and claw at the stranger who threatened her only child.

  She froze in midair.

  As her eyes widened in shock, she floated to rest gently upon her bed, too stunned at what she was experiencing to scream any more.

  The woman spoke. “Mrs. MacLean, I’ll get Dash. We need to talk with both of you.”

  The woman never moved, never left the room. But Dash was there before Dana could open her mouth to protest, suddenly sleeping next to her, his head propped on her leg as if it were a pillow.

  How in the world…?

  “Mrs. MacLean, I realize this will be difficult to understand, and difficult to accept. But it’s important that you wake Dash up. We need to take a short trip, and both of you will need to make an important decision. Fate hasn’t been kind to you, or your son, or your husband. Our mission is to reverse that fate and make things better.”

  Dana blinked. “Fate? What does my husband have to do with this? And how did my son get in here? Neither of you left to get him.”

  Dash stirred at her side, and she forgot her own terror for a moment, offering soothing tones as the boy woke. Dash blinked a few times, sat up, and stared at the two people in his mother’s room. “Who are they, Mom?”

  The woman glanced at the man. “Let’s go.”

  Before Dana or Dash could ask where they might be going—or could protest the decision to leave—they were overcome by a strange sense of physical displacement. Everything flashed… and they were suddenly in someone else’s home.

  Another couple sat there, chatting with a young woman with dark hair who, from the frazzled expression on her face, looked to have come here under similar suspicious circumstances. A tall man with thinning brown hair and intense brown eyes looked up, unsurprised that four people had materialized in front of him, and nodded at Dana. “Welcome, Mrs. MacLean. I apologize for the abruptness of our get-together, but there’s little time.”

  “Abruptness?” Dana snapped. “You do mean abduction, right?”

  “You’re free to leave at any time,” the man replied. “But I really encourage you to listen to what we have to say. It’s literally a case of life and death.”

  “We’re leaving,” Dana said. “Let’s go, Dash.”

  “How did you do that?” the little boy asked. He was speaking with the man who’d invaded their home and… moved them.

  “I can teach you,” he replied. “But first, we need to talk to you and your mom about something that’s going to happen on Monday.”

  Dana felt a chill of apprehension. “What’s going to happen on Monday?”

  The brown-haired man leveled her with his gaze. “People able to do what you’ve just seen us do are going to
murder your husband.”

  ●●●

  The three people present in the room against their will sat on a comfortable sofa in front of a large television. Dana and Gena sat on either side of Dash, as if reaching an unspoken agreement to protect the child from the strangers holding them captive.

  With the way they could move, though… Dana wasn’t sure what she could do if her captors proved malicious.

  “I’ll be blunt and to the point,” the brown-haired man said. “As you’ve gathered, we’re not normal. There’s a large group of people in the world able to do what you’ve each experienced tonight, including moving instantly from place to place. The group with the majority of such people in its ranks is comprised of men and women willing to kill to keep the secrets of those skills from becoming public knowledge. We, in the minority, are of the opinion that we should share that knowledge with all of humanity, gradually, along with other advances we’ve made. The larger group has learned that our leader and founder lives here, in Pleasanton, and they’re going to come and attempt to capture him. They’ll kill if necessary to achieve that goal.”

  “You said that they’re going to… murder my husband,” Dana said slowly.

  “And my fiancée,” Gena added, looking pale.

  “That’s correct.”

  “Why, though? Why would they do that?”

  “Because the men you love guard the man they seek. He lives in another house in De Gray Estates.”

  “We’re inside De Gray Estates?” Dana said, shocked.

  “Will Stark,” Gena whispered.

  The woman who’d transported the MacLeans looked at Gena with interest. “How did you know?”

  Gena shrugged. “I just… I don’t know. I just knew.”

  “Wait a minute,” Dana said. “There are men coming here to kill Will Stark, and they’re going to kill my husband, and they’re going to kill her fiancée… and you know this and aren’t going to stop them?”

  “We can’t,” the brown-haired man said. “It would be catastrophic.”

  “Catastrophic would be my son growing up without his father!” Dana shouted. “You act like this is no big deal. Why tell us?”

  “While we won’t prevent the murders… we can prevent the men from dying. Both men will, on Monday morning, be escorted here to have a conversation like the one we’re having now. And they’ll be offered the same chance we’re about to offer the three of you.”

  “So you admit that you could stop the murders and you won’t?” Dana replied. Her tone was one of exasperation. “You’re no better than them!”

  “If these men do not proceed with these murders, and believe their efforts successful, it is no exaggeration to say that the history of the last millennium will be completely altered, and all of us will cease to exist. With those stakes, with the lives of millions—billions, even—altered, we will not stop them from believing themselves successful.” He paused, holding up his hand before Dana could explode again. “We have developed cloning capabilities that would enable us to send copies of your loved ones to work on Monday. It will be the copy, not the men you know and love, who will suffer that horrible fate, leaving their original bodies and minds intact.” He paused once more. “If they choose to do so.”

  Gena looked puzzled. “Why wouldn’t they take that deal?”

  “And again, why not just stop the killers to begin with?” Dana snapped. But her tone was slightly less acerbic.

  “We don’t know,” the man replied, addressing Gena’s question. “We believe in giving people information and letting them make their own choices. Deron and Mark will have the chance to decide if they want to sit in this room while their clones—perfect copies of them in every way, save for their built-in shorter life spans—suffer what fate has dealt them. Might they choose to believe that it is truly their time to die? They might. But it won’t be something forced upon them. And if we wanted to force the decision, we could.”

  “That’s not the specific reason we brought the three of you here today, though.” It was the man who’d abducted Dana and Dash speaking now. “We’ve gotten new information that suggests that after finishing their work here, the men seeking Will Stark will go after the three of you next.” He looked at Gena. “They have specifically named you a target.”

  Gena gasped, and Dana wrapped her arms around her son, who was drifting off to sleep due to the late hour.

  “With that in mind,” the brown-haired man continued, “the same offer is open to the three of you. We can create perfect replicas of each of you that will be put back exactly where you were when we retrieved the samples necessary to create them, with no recollection of this conversation, while you wait here in safety until everything is finished.”

  “You’ve already retrieved… samples?” Dana said. “How…?” But she remembered the strange brushing sensation she’d felt just before finding two strangers in her bedroom. And she changed her question. “Why?”

  “Whichever version of you returns to your home must have no memory of this conversation. Your very cells retain memories. We had to get samples with no memory of meeting us, because it’s critical that all of you live the next few days normally.”

  “What if I choose not to be cloned?” Gena asked.

  The brown-haired man grimaced, and his eye twitched. “Your memory of this encounter will be erased and you’ll be transported safely home. The material taken from you would then be destroyed.”

  “What happens next?” Dash asked, stirring.

  “What do you mean?” asked the brown-haired man.

  “You said… the bad men would…” The boy paused, unable to say the words. “But if that’s a copy of Daddy… where would he—my real Daddy—go? I want to go with him.”

  Dana stared at her son, surprised at the depth of understanding he showed.

  The brown-haired man nodded. “You are correct, Dash. Because dead bodies will be found, anyone cloned whose clone dies cannot return to their previous way of life. Your Daddy—and you and your Mom, if that is your wish—would have to come live with us, in our special home.” The man smiled. “It’s pretty far away, but you’d really enjoy it. And you’d learn how to do this.” Suddenly, the man was standing behind them, having vanished and reappeared in an instant.

  “That’s what I want to do,” the boy replied, eyes gleaming. He turned to his mother. “We can’t leave Daddy, Mom. Please?”

  Dana was uncomfortable. “What if… what if Deron chooses not to be cloned? What if he…?”

  “You and your son will still be able to come with us. We’ll… arrange things here to explain your disappearance, assuming that we’re incorrect and these men choose to limit their killing efforts to Mark and Deron… their clones, that is.”

  Dana took a deep breath, looked at Dash’s eager face, and tried to imagine a world without her son. The world deserved a brave, kind boy like Dash. He needed to live. She glanced at the strange, powerful people gathered around her, and then she nodded her consent.

  Gena looked at the people in the room with her, with a particular focus on the man with the brown hair. “I want to spend the rest of my life with Mark. If this is the only way… then so be it.”

  The strangers exchanged glances. “Very well, then.” The brown-haired man nodded. “We’ll get everything started and set you up with rooms here. In a few days, we’ll start transferring your most prized possessions here as well. We can’t do that right away, because your clones would notice things missing.”

  The boy looked saddened.

  The woman who’d brought Dash here looked at him. “I think we can reproduce your teddy bear. Would that help?”

  The boy stared at her. “You can do that?”

  She smiled back. “You’ll find that there’s very little we can’t do.”

  Dana sniffed. “Except prevent murders you know are coming.”

  ●●●

  Gena glanced down at the strange clothing now covering her body. Adam, the brown-haired ma
n, had told her it was made of tiny machines, that it would show her progress in learning the new skills they’d teach her. She was happy to see that her clothes had streaks of pink in them. Pink was her favorite color. Dana and Dash seemed pleased that their pure white clothes were missing that same pink streak.

  Under ideal circumstances, they’d collect the tissue samples just at the start of a sleeping cycle and return the clones to their beds, eliminating the need to modify memories to explain missing gaps of waking time from the clone’s memory. That would be the case with Dash, who’d been asleep until after the tissue sample was taken. For Dana and Gena, though, they’d need to take special precautions. Dana had been looking out her bedroom window to the moonlit view of the front yard below, while Gena had been walking home in the dark. Given the time required to complete the process, the clones for both women wouldn’t be available until the early morning hours. Both women consented to have their clones’ memories modified. Dana would remember lying down and falling asleep instantly. Gena would remember completing her walk in a mental haze, changing into her standard sleepwear and falling asleep instantly as well. The clones would receive a potion that would accelerate their sleep, allowing them to wake at a normal hour with an appropriate level of physical refreshment.

  All three clones would need to wear—or, in Gena’s case, possess in a hamper—the clothes they’d worn during the collection process. Waking with different clothing could lead to a profound sense of displacement that might cause severe mental instability. Gena’s memory modification was the most critical; they’d need to install a memory of her changing clothing. Lacking other options, they crafted a perfect replica of her nightclothes with the tiny machines. With only Ashley in the room, Gena then went through the physical process of removing her work clothes and donning her sleeping attire in the cloning room; Ashley watched and transferred the mental images into the memory of the clone to ensure the most realistic memory possible. Neither woman relished the task, but both agreed it was necessary for the mental health of the clone growing nearby.