Preserving Will

by Alex Albrinck

  Hope looked at her hands, clenched together. “You’re asking me to forget who I am. To forget what I am. And that could put my son’s life at risk.”

  “Who you are won’t change, Hope. You’re a mother who’s going to protect her son to the best of her ability. You just won’t know how powerful those abilities are.”

  “How do we ensure that the Assassin isn’t successful, then? You talk of something triggering my memories to return. What if that doesn’t work? What if my memories don’t return in time for me to protect my son? What if—?”

  “Your what if has a name, Hope. I think that’s where Will comes in.”

  “You think?” Hope shook her head. “That’s not good enough, Adam. I’ll not agree to a strategy that relies upon guesses of who might be available to help out. Guesses might mean my son dies.”

  “Then I’ll stay in the house, and if I see anything go wrong, I’ll take care of things myself.”

  Hope watched him. “You’d stay in a house that’s supposed to explode and burn to ash?”

  Adam nodded. “All I’m supposed to do today is watch everything with the cloned originals. There are others who will be there, though. I can do more good here.”

  Hope stood up and walked around, pacing across the plush carpeting in the room, thinking. She finally looked up. “There are very few people I’d trust when my son’s life is at risk, Adam. You’re asking me to put my faith in two of them. And for that reason, and that reason only, I’ll agree.”

  Adam nodded. “Close your eyes.”

  She did.

  He moved Energy into her mind, finding those aspects of her memories that dealt with her Energy skills. He blocked memories of Will before she’d met him in Pleasanton, blocked knowledge of the Aliomenti and the Alliance, and blocked memories of those she’d known for centuries. When he was done, she truly believed that she was a twenty-eight year old human woman with a husband and son she adored, and her accessible memories reinforced that image.

  She’d fallen into a deep sleep as a result of the extensive intrusion into her mind. He picked her up and carried her to her room, took off her shoes, and tucked her under the covers. She’d wake up in time for the events later in the day; he’d make sure of that.

  As he left to let the others know of the change in plans relating to his location, he thought about the memory of him that he’d found in her mind. He had no idea how she’d found out, or figured it out, but it wasn’t something he could have her repeating to others. One day? Maybe. But today wasn’t that day.

  That memory was blocked as deeply as he could bury it. There was only one other person who knew, and he’d keep it that way as long as possible.

  One day, Hope would know what he’d hidden from her.

  He wondered if she’d forgive him for keeping it secret.

  XXI

  Direction

  January 7, 2030

  Peter and Judith had transformed a large media room into their headquarters for the day. The Alliance team on the grounds for the attack had to both remain hidden and be on the alert for anything that might go wrong. Hope had scattered invisible cameras and microphones throughout the house, and Aaron had spent his time doing the same earlier that day while posing as Mark in the guard station. They hadn’t considered how to get into the tower without leaving a video record of their presence. They’d finally decided to plant nanobot cameras on Deron’s clone before Adam drove him back to the tower. Once Deron was back in the tower, they were able to remotely drive those cameras into prime viewing position.

  Mark’s cloning process had progressed too far to stop, and they’d elected to allow the procedure to continue, keeping the clone sedated and asleep through the day. Deron had been advised to stay away as well; watching your clone die a violent death might have unexpected and traumatic consequences. Deron opted to sleep as well, concerned that if he stayed awake to spend time with Dash, he’d feel too strong a temptation to come watch everything unfold.

  They’d warned the humans of what was to come, and invited Dana, Dash, and Gena to join them or remain outside the room as they preferred. The Assassin was a brutally efficient killer, and the deaths on the screens would be graphic. Dana, knowing she’d still have her husband with her at the end of the day, had elected to stay, though she’d sent Dash into another room with video game consoles and satellite television.

  Gena had fled the room in tears.

  She wouldn’t be watching a copy of Mark die a violent death. For her, his death was real and permanent.

  Adam excused himself and went in search of her.

  She’d believed Mark might not choose the cloning option, and he’d done just that. She’d sobbed, not only because of his choice, but because he’d not made any suggestion or move to say a final farewell. Aaron suggested that he might have believed a clean separation would be less painful for her; if they’d talked, and she’d tried to talk him out of it and failed, she might forever blame herself for his death. She’d gone silent after that, which worried Adam.

  Because Gena had said before that if Mark chose death, she’d take her own life as a result.

  And they’d agreed that they wouldn’t stop her.

  He hadn’t, though. He wouldn’t accept her choice of suicide. She was far too special, far too important, and had overcome too much already to simply end it all now. No, he’d go talk to her, make her see things more clearly.

  He wouldn’t let her go without a fight.

  Adam trotted down the basement stairs, walking past the hidden doorway leading to the cloning room, moved past the room where the original Deron lay sleeping, and finally came to Gena’s temporary bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and the light was out. No sound came from inside the room.

  His breath caught in his throat. Was he already too late?

  Tentatively, he knocked on the door. “Gena?”

  There was no response.

  He raised his hand to knock again when her voice came to him. “I’m here.” There was no emotion in her voice. Her voice was that of one who’d lost her reason to live, even though she still drew breath. It evoked a powerful despair in him, an emotion that triggered his empathic senses in an overwhelming manner. He took a moment to steady himself, and then entered her room.

  Gena sat on the bed, pressed up against the backboard, with her knees near her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs. It was a posture he’d seen Will adopt on many occasions, a pose that indicated he was engaging in deep thinking.

  She didn’t look up as he entered. “When I was younger, there was a big tree in our back yard. Whenever something would go wrong, I’d go outside and sit next to it. I don’t know why, but it always made me feel better.” She turned her head slightly to look at the headboard. “Maybe if this was real wood it would work.” She gave a faint smile, barely noticeable in the dim light of the room.

  Adam smiled back at her, but the expression was hollow, and reflected the pain he felt on her behalf. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through.”

  She gave a faint chuckle. “A few days ago, I was poor, happy, engaged to be married to a wonderful man, and had no idea that I would probably be dead within the week. I’m not sure which of those were good or bad. But none of them are true anymore.”

  He caught the hidden meaning. “Perhaps some good will come from this.”

  She snorted derisively. “Really? I’m alive, but my reasons for living no longer exist. I’m alive, but for what purpose? Why am I still alive?” She shook her head. “I told myself it wasn’t worth living without Mark, that I’d take my own life if he chose not to save his. And yet… I can’t do it.” She rested her chin on her knees. “Maybe I’m just a coward.”

  “You’re no coward, Gena,” Adam said. “Facing the unknown, an unknown that’s taken on an entirely new meaning after Mark’s decision, and involving things you never before knew existed? All of the changes in your entire world you’ve gone through in the past
few days? That’s not cowardice. That’s courage.”

  She sighed. “Perhaps. Something inside tells me that I have something more to do with my life, something important, something worth living for. And part of me thinks that taking my life would be an insult to Mark. I know him well enough to know that he believes that him sacrificing his life means I’ll keep mine, that somehow if he’d opted for cloning, I’d truly die. I don’t want to dishonor his memory.” She looked up at Adam in the darkened room. “Does that make any sense?”

  He nodded. “It’s what our overall Alliance membership does. We find that greater good, something to sacrifice our time and energy and skill to achieve, and put everything into it. You work with others to accomplish something, and you can’t let them down, so you work at it no matter what happens. I’ve gone on two missions as part of a group, and on one of them the Hunters tracked us down and hauled one of our team members away. We were devastated because we’d lost a family member, but we had to finish what we started to honor her. And our work, even without run-ins with the Hunters, can take us away from loved ones for a very long time. You may finish up your mission, head home, and find those loved ones gone on their own journeys. But you respect what they’re doing, just as they respected what you were doing, even if it means experiencing those long separations. You know that one day you’ll be reunited again, and that makes the wait and the separation bearable.”

  Gena sat in silence for a time. Adam said nothing, giving her time to process everything that had happened.

  She finally looked up at him. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  There was a hesitation before she spoke again. “Why is it that you seem so familiar to me?”

  Ouch. Of all the questions she could ask… she had to ask the one he didn’t want to answer. “I’ve been told I have a very familiar-looking face.”

  She shook her head. “You’ve told me that before, but it’s not how you look that makes you seem familiar. When I met you the other night, it was…” She paused. “This will sound strange, but… there are some people who seem to have a special sound to them, like the people in this house, other than the MacLeans. But your sound? It’s something I remember from long ago, like a memory from a dream. It’s like I’ve known you from before I was born.”

  “That’s… that’s an interesting story,” he said slowly. He opted for redirection. “What do you mean, people have sounds?”

  She hesitated. “It’s hard to explain. But when I’m near someone like Ashley or Peter, there’s a sound I hear in my head. It’s like a ringing in my ears, but it’s more internal than that, and it’s not annoying or painful. Each person like them, like you, has a different tone, a different pitch. It’s gotten to the point that I know people are coming into the room around here before I can see or hear them. I knew you were coming to my room before you ever got here.”

  He nodded. “That’s not so strange. Well, it’s not strange that it can be done, but it is strange that you’re able to do that right now.” He paused. “We touched a bit on what it is that makes our group unique, and you’ve seen enough to know that we’re not… normal.”

  “I’ve seen enough to know that’s not a personality assessment, except perhaps for Peter.”

  Adam laughed. He was pleased to see that she was able to engage in humor. “He’s unique, that’s for sure. We talked yesterday about how we’re able to sense and manipulate something called Energy. Over time, we’re able to increase the amount we can produce and absorb and store. With enough Energy, there’s almost no limit to what we can do.”

  “Yes, so I’ve heard,” she said with a wry smile. “I get to live the rest of my days with a bunch of witches.”

  “We aren’t witches, though admittedly there’s a fine line between teleportation and witchcraft,” Adam replied. “Of course, we don’t turn people into toads or ride broomsticks, so we’ve got that going for us.” He paused. “The Energy we use has some type of signature to it, something that makes it unique to each person who uses it. While any of us can sense the Energy coming from another, we can’t detect it at a distance… and we certainly can’t tell whose Energy we’re sensing. Well, most of us can’t. A limited number can detect that unique Energy signal and use that gift to identify who produces the Energy they’re sensing. One of the men coming for Will Stark today has that gift, and to a far greater degree than anyone else. He’s able to detect Energy usage from hundreds of miles away and identify who generated that Energy without error. That’s how they can track our people down. That’s how they knew where Will was and how it is that they’ll be here in a few hours. It’s not unprecedented, then, that someone can… feel and interpret Energy from others.” He frowned.

  “But I shouldn’t be able to do so.” Gena replied.

  “No, you shouldn’t.”

  “And the reason I can is the same reason you seem familiar, isn’t it?”

  That startled him. “I’m not sure why you can do this, but I have no reason to think it has anything to do with why you recognize me.”

  “Ah, so you do know why I recognize you!” Gena exclaimed, her face brightening. She leaned forward. “Well?”

  Adam shook his head. She’d baited him into admitting that he knew. No amount of denying it would save him now.

  She didn’t need to know everything, though.

  “How much do you remember of your parents? Your birth parents, that is?”

  She frowned. “I don’t remember them at all. But I shouldn’t, should I? My parents took me to the orphanage when I was a baby, a newborn.”

  Adam shook his head. “No, they didn’t. A… friend of mine took you to the orphanage. Your birth parents didn’t know you were alive.”

  Gena shook her head. “No, you’ve got that wrong. My birth parents took me to the orphanage… when I…” She paused. “Wait a minute. That’s why I know you, isn’t it? You were involved in getting me there.” Then she frowned. “You’re not using ‘friend’ as a euphemism for yourself, are you?”

  “No,” Adam said. “I didn’t take you there. And I ask that you not try to find out the identity of the friend who did. Perhaps one day, the identity of that person will be revealed to you. For now, let’s just leave it at that.”

  Gena shrugged. “Okay, but I don’t understand the secrecy. Why shouldn’t I know? Why shouldn’t everyone?”

  “I’ll tell you why, but you must promise not to tell anyone else.”

  She snorted, which on some level pleased him. If she had enough mental energy and spunk to do that, she was recovering well. “Again, why the secrecy?”

  “Promise, or I’ll walk out the door.”

  She sighed. “Very well. I promise. What’s the story?”

  “Years ago, I worked in a hospital. A couple came in to have their baby, a baby girl. They were very excited. But sadly, the little girl was stillborn. The parents were distraught. They said their farewells to the child, and it was left to me dispose of the remains. Except… I found out that the baby girl wasn’t dead at all. She was alive, but barely, in a tiny body that couldn’t function well enough to remain viable. Her mind was alive, and above all else she wanted to live and survive. It was too late to take her back to the doctors and her parents. They wouldn’t have been able to save her, even if I’d returned with her then. And so I used my… abilities, left, and took that little girl home.”

  Gena’s eyes widened. “That… was that… me?”

  Adam nodded. “Of course it was you. By every record of this world, you died the day you were born. Perhaps your name wasn’t recorded. I don’t know, because I didn’t stay long enough to find out if they did, or if your parents even named you. I was sad to be carrying a tiny baby in my hands, especially one that had died before ever having a chance to live. To find out that you still lived, still had a tremendous desire to stay alive? Well, we say our mission is to be the change we want in the world. And the change I wanted was for you to live.

 
“I took you to my home. Your body failed. Constantly. I used an earlier version of the cloning machine we have here to try to rebuild everything from scratch. Day after day, month after month, I kept re-growing everything, but every time I did it would fail again. Nothing worked. Nothing. Every organ failed, every limb stopped functioning. I could only consistently keep your brain and your mind alive.”

  “How… how long… did it take?” she asked, staring at him.

  “It took… longer than I could ever have imagined. But I finally figured out how to keep your body from dying. Finally, after all that time, you had a body and looked like a baby girl. I talked with my friend, and we agreed that, as difficult as it was, you were best served growing up with a normal family. I… made sure that you were placed with good people, who would love you as their own. And I’ve made sure that nothing bad ever happened to you ever since.”

  “Wait… you mean you’ve been spying on me?” Gena said, incredulous. “But… why?”

  He thought for a moment. “I’m not sure, exactly, but I think I was overcome with just how strongly you wanted to live, and having finally seen you achieve that goal, I didn’t want your life to be anything but a happy experience. I wanted to protect you in whatever way I could. When we figured out that Mark would be a target today, and that you’d gotten engaged, I followed you more closely, worried that the news would reach the Hunters and you’d be at risk.” He shook his head. “When you talked to one of them, I realized they’d come after you to clean up all the loose ends after this was over. And that’s why we brought you here.”

  “What do you mean I talked to one of them?” She thought for a moment before her eyes widened, and he could feel her shock through the darkness in the room. “It was him, wasn’t it? The man who said he was putting together a TV show.” She slammed a fist against the headboard, startling Adam. “How could I have been so stupid?”