CLONES: The Anthology

by Rysa Walker

  “Our purpose is holy, and we should strive toward it with all our hearts,” I say loudly, primarily for Mother Superior, who must be overhearing and overseeing this entire performance. I hold out my hand to the center of the ring of sisters, palm up. “But our hearts will always be sorkept, first and foremost.”

  My sisters move forward to place their hands on mine. We stand that way, bonded, for a moment, feeling the love of every connection we’ve made in the years of growing up. Mother Superior’s lie is part of the cement that binds us together.

  The way forward is dangerous—either we’ll all transcend or we’ll all be forced to flee.

  And it’s up to me to keep us alive.

  III

  I’m back in my cloister cell, praying.

  I whisper into my hands, but the more I think about leaving the cloister, the more bleak that option appears. What power do we have against the Masters and their bots? Perhaps we could outsmart the mother bots in our attempt to flee, but what about Mother Superior? How can I possibly go up against a God-like being with vastly superior intelligence and knowledge?

  A flush of shame overcomes me, and I stop whispering. My hands fall to the mat, and I stare up at the blue glass ceiling of my cloister cell. Sister Hadley is up there—I can see the dark outline of her mat and the moving shadow of her restless arm next to it.

  Yes, Mother Superior lied to us, but we will forever be children next to her kind. Maybe she has reasons I cannot even comprehend. Here I am, lying in my box, envisioning some grand scheme wherein I lead my sisters in an escape from the experiment they’ve been designed for… and it feels like a child’s wistful dreaming, not a leader’s responsible decision-making.

  I heave a heavy sigh. My body relaxes into the mat. A true leader would assess the best option for the collective—for all twelve of us. And it’s quickly becoming clear that the best path is to succeed in our purpose. To have all of my sisters awaken just as the Masters wish—in fact, if one sister goes first, then perhaps that one could help the others! We should each do our part, not drag our heels like I’ve been doing, with my constant fear and anxiety.

  I’ve already died once—how much harder can it get?

  I manage to keep the bubble of nervous laughter inside.

  I stretch my arms up, pull them back down, then work through the muscles in my body, one by one, tightening and relaxing. Tightening and relaxing. Mother Grace taught me this technique long ago—it helps settle me for prayer, calming the agitation in my body so I can open up my mind to the divine.

  If awakening is the only true path for me and my sisters, then I need to reach for it—even if it might split me into a million pieces. I may not be able to trust Mother Superior’s words, but I can place my faith in the Masters’ superior intelligence. They must know what they’re doing—which means the awakening is possible, even if I have no idea how. But if I reach for it on my own, it has to be safer than Mother Superior’s high-intensity, God-mode-inducing drug.

  I close my eyes and try to re-create that feeling of expansiveness that comes with the patch. My mind recoils from images of the interrogation room, drifting instead to the garden and the bond with my sisters. The two feelings are not dissimilar. I focus on the cloister cells around me, reaching for that sisterly feeling of connection and oneness.

  Small sounds rise out of the quiet. Sister Hadley breathing deeply, possibly asleep. Sister Chloe restless on her mat, with soft sniffles I hope aren’t crying. Sister Maya slowly tapping, almost inaudible. It’s her nervous habit. The sounds are a soft symphony of our sisterhood. My own body relaxes and lifts, as though it’s lost a little of its own gravity. I’m floating above my mat on a wave of comfort and connection. I drift toward Hadley…

  A sudden jerk makes my heart stutter—the sensation like verging on sleep then startling awake—only when I open my eyes, I don’t see the top of my cloister cell.

  I’m outside it.

  What the—I’m staring at my cloister cell from the outside.

  I have no memory of leaving my cell. There’s no one else in the laboratory—no bots, not even Mother Grace who normally lets me out. I creep toward my cloister cell, reaching for the door, even though I don’t know the unlock code. We don’t control them any more than we control anything else. I rise up on my tiptoes to peer through the window, then nearly topple over—I’ve left my body inside.

  Holy Makers.

  I try to brace myself against the wall of my cloister cell… my hand passes right through!

  I jerk it back.

  What is this? Is this my awakening? But this isn’t some holy realm—it’s just the lab. The divine has to be more than this. More than simply traveling outside my body.

  Where am I supposed to go looking for God? Down the hall?

  I lean slowly toward my cloister cell again and press my face to the wall—it passes through the door. I’m half in and half out of the cloister cell, looking at my body. So disturbing. But if I can pass through walls, there’s literally nothing that can hold me. I pull out of my cell and repeat the same thing with Chloe’s, sticking my head inside.

  She’s there, eyes closed, praying fervently into her hands.

  “Chloe!” I whisper, afraid I might scare the holiness out of her.

  She doesn’t hear me, just keeps on whispering about fulfilling her holy purpose and asking God to bless her and make her the one who can help… Sister Amara. Hearing my name on her lips flushes me with warmth in an almost physical way. Suddenly, the connection between us is even stronger. It’s pulling me deeper into the cloister cell. I reach a hand to touch her shoulder… and the connection zooms up and consumes me.

  In a flash, I see Chloe’s life, an endless stream of images bombarding my brain and my senses, telling me the story of who she is. And I’m at the center of it, a vibrant light that’s anchored her through the years. I jerk back again, breaking the connection and pulling out of her cell.

  I’m alone in the laboratory, but the connections to my other sisters in their cloister cells call to me. The sister bond isn’t a figment of my imagination—it’s a real thing. Or at least as real as anything else in this hallucination or dream or awakening I’m having.

  I take another step back from the cells—as much as I love my sisters, I don’t want to be inside their heads that much.

  Whatever this is, it can’t be what the Masters intended. I’m not reaching for the face of God. I’m not seeing a holier place. I’m merely walking around without my body. Which means… I’ve already failed.

  I stride for the door of the laboratory and don’t even hesitate—I simply walk straight through. Looking back at the doorway, there’s no evidence of my passage. I don’t know how long this state will last, so I hurry. I only have one chance, maybe, to see what’s outside. To make a plan for escape. To find a way out before the Masters figure out what’s happened. There is no telling how much they can discern, with their watchful eyes and ever-listening ears.

  In spite of my hurrying down the hall and the near-panic in my mind, I don’t actually feel… anything. Not the cool temperature of the ascenders’ climate control system. Not the chilled tiles under the soles of my feet. Not even the pounding of my own heart… because I left that heart in my body in the cloister cell. That bracing thought follows me as I wind down the blue-glass hallways toward the edge of our domain, past which we’re forbidden to travel. Double black lines and a sentry bot demark the limits I’ve known my entire life.

  The sentry’s humanoid-yet-mechanical body contains enough strength to crush me, and that doesn’t include the weapons neatly stored in its arms and chest. Those weapons only come out when needed—like the medical instrumentation stored in Mother Grace’s body—except the sentry’s instruments are designed to kill, not save. We’ve been told a hundred times that the sentries protect us from anyone who might enter the cloister domain, but as I stand in front of it, undetected by its sensors, I notice it’s not facing outward, but inward toward the cl
oister.

  I have an urge run past it, taunting it as I go. Before I can lift a foot to act on that impulse, I blink, and I’m already a dozen feet down the forbidden corridor. It startles me enough that I hold still, frozen in the hallway—the sentry hasn’t detected me, but more importantly, how did I do that?

  I moved without motion.

  My hands appear to be flesh and blood—as real as anything I’ve ever seen—although they’re somehow brighter than normal, glowing with a little inner shine that seems unreal.

  Maybe this is all a dream.

  I keep moving, but this time I don’t bother to walk or run—I think my way down the corridor. I start at one end and will myself to the other… and suddenly appear there.

  A heady rush of excitement and power charges me.

  What is this thing I’ve discovered?

  I work to get a grip on myself before I spiral off and do something crazy. But I can’t help trying for more. I close my eyes and imagine the garden. When I open them, I’m there, next to the peach trees heavy with fruit. I can’t feel the soil under my feet, even as I see it between my toes. The sun has no heat, even as I see the reflection on the leaves.

  I am here but not here.

  What is this state, truly?

  The mountain peak beckons from outside the sparkling domed glass. Can I will myself outside the garden? I close my eyes and imagine what it must be like on the other side of the glass. When I open my eyes, the mountain is the same, but the frosted glass is gone, revealing a shining bright city between me and the distant peak. The sunshine glints off so many buildings, it’s difficult for my mind to tell them apart—there are spires and towers and gleaming silver-and-glass buildings huddled like sisters, only they’re each unique. A giant toroid stands on end; a double helix tower is made entirely of glass; billowing domes of satiny silver glint as they ripple with the wind.

  A sprawling field of lush green grass lies under my feet, and behind me, the glass structure that is my home towers above me, simply enormous, with a spider web of silver metal holding together all that glass. The full extent of it is a hundred times the size of my cloister. The idea that the whole expanse of the living space I’ve known my entire life is tiny compared to the building I was raised in, much less the city it’s buried in… unsettles me.

  I’m standing in the middle of an entire city of ascenders.

  How could my sisters and I possibly survive in this? Although the distant mountain, with its rugged granite and snowy peak, wouldn’t provide much refuge either. The vast complex of glass where my sisters are hidden away is really the only place where we belong.

  I close my eyes and envision myself in the hallway just past the sentry.

  All along, I thought that I would be the last to awaken… I didn’t plan on being first. Although this awakening is hardly a true one—I could still be the least among my sisters. Maybe Sister Chloe will awaken to something more mysterious and godlike than simply traveling around without her body. And then she could show me the way!

  I stride past the sentry, heading back toward the laboratory that is my home, and sort through the scattering of memories I somehow absorbed when I touched Chloe. She is my sister, my genetic identical, but her mind is comprised of all the experiences and expressions that are unique to her.

  When I pass through the laboratory door, I see the room is no longer empty.

  Mother Grace is there, preparing something in the medical suite. Mother Joy is returning Sister Hadley to her cell. When did she leave? Have I been gone long enough for her to leave and return? This disorientation freezes me at the door.

  Sister Hadley isn’t paying attention to her instructions. As she climbs into her cloister cell, I feel the connection between us.

  Just before her door closes, Hadley catches a glimpse of me. “Sister Amara.”

  She’s looking straight at me. What does that mean?

  I hurry toward her. “Yes, it’s me!” I gush out.

  Hadley just stares at me, an infinite stare. I’m no longer sure she can see me.

  Mother Joy hesitates in closing the door. “Yes, Sister Amara will be going to interrogation next.”

  I whip a look to her. Next? I never go after Sister Hadley. This is out of order.

  Something has changed.

  Hadley nods as if I’ve spoken aloud. “You’re next.”

  Mother Joy closes the door in Hadley’s face, ignoring her words. A horrible dread sinks through me. Mother Grace strides toward my cloister cell, coming for me.

  Panic freezes me for a moment, then I close my eyes and wish with all my heart to return to my body. When I open them, I’m staring up at the ceiling of my cloister cell again. I feel the mat under my back, the cool glass under my palm resting on the floor. The softly metallic scent of the laboratory returns to my senses.

  Behind my head, Mother Grace opens the door. “It is your turn, Sister Amara.”

  IV

  I roll out of my cell like normal, but my body is one giant cramp. My attempts to stand up and act normal are abysmal failures.

  Mother Grace patiently waits for me to right myself. “Now that you’ve had a rest, Mother Superior wishes to speak with you.”

  I hobble behind Mother Grace as she leads me through the glass hallways, but we’re not heading to the interrogation room. Instead, she brings me to the doorway of a red glass room. This is Mother Superior’s domain—not strictly forbidden, but at the edges of the cloister and certainly nowhere a sister prefers to visit. The door slides open, and Mother Grace indicates I should go first. I try to keep the tremors under control as I step inside. Mother Superior is consulting with a holo screen on the wall—the rest of the room is nothing but bare glass, although the Masters can summon whatever they wish from the walls and floor. Mother Superior demonstrates this by commanding a chair to rise. It’s made of a delicate-looking mesh of metal and red glass.

  I glance at it but don’t sit.

  Mother Superior doesn’t insist. “What did you see when you were dead, Sister Amara?”

  Since she’s getting right to it, I’m tempted to ask why she lied to my sisters about resurrecting me from the dead.

  Instead, I say, “Nothing.” Which is all I plan to say. My heart is sorkept, and now that Sister Hadley may have some kind of ability as well—

  Mother Superior suddenly looms over me, moving with ascender speed to my side. My heart lurches. She’s too close, intimidating me with her glare and her bodyform, reminding me that she could simply crush me at any moment if she wished.

  Anger surges up and heats my face—anger that feels like a whisper of things buried deep.

  “You were given the highest dosage of any interrogation to date,” Mother Superior says. A gray wisp curls along her skin and climbs her neck then disappears. The Masters’ coloration means something about their emotional state, but I’ve never completely cracked the code. I take a wild guess that I’m not the only one who’s angry.

  A strange and unfamiliar satisfaction spreads warmth through my still-quivering body.

  “Something must have happened prior to your heart failing,” Mother Superior continues. It’s a not-too-subtle threat—I may not have actually died, but restarting a stopped heart is certainly within the realm of ascender med tech. “Tell me. Now.”

  Her harsh tone surges my anger up again, doubling my determination for the truth to remain sorkept. It must show on my face because Mother Superior draws even closer. Her cybernetic eyes dilate and flush with purplish wisps as she measures me in a thousand inhuman ways.

  “You resist, Sister Amara.” Even her voice is filled with anger now, and it shakes me… the Masters are always cool and unflappable, even cold… but never angry.

  I’m in dangerous territory.

  Then Mother Superior’s skin tone flattens into a neutral gray. I’ve only seen this once before, when I was just a girl, running through the hallways, caught right before dashing past the double black lines—but I didn’t understan
d it until now.

  She’s hiding her reaction from me. This confuses me.

  “Your resistance is why you’re such trouble, Sister Amara.” Her voice is cool again. “You need to have faith in order to fulfill your purpose. The more you resist, the longer it will take.”

  I wonder how long I have. The Masters can’t read my thoughts, but Mother Superior can obviously read my face—and apparently all my thoughts show there.

  When I don’t respond, her expression hardens. “At the dosage levels I gave you, the human body does not easily endure the dissociation.” Her ashen skin covers her feelings, but I can intuit them—how frustrating it must be for this vastly superior being to be thwarted by her simple experimental-human not performing as I should.

  That foreign sense of satisfaction is back.

  “Maybe you need to pull back on the dosages,” I say, the boldness of my words surprising me. “It’s dangerous.”

  A cruel smirk flashes across Mother Superior’s face. “Yes, it is. Very dangerous.” She takes a step back and gestures to me like my bold rebellion is a pointless tantrum, that of a little child’s. “But if you won’t tell me what happened, then I’ll be forced to repeat the experiment with someone else.”

  My sisters. “What?”

  She waves a casual hand in my direction. “A serum could wrest the truth from your lips, Sister Amara, but so far, you’re the only one to show promise. I don’t want to tamper with your mind any more than necessary. So you’re forcing me into this. Unless or until you become more cooperative, I will have to continue dosing your sisters by turns until one of them bridges the gap. Your choice, Sister Amara.”

  My stomach hollows out. “You can’t—”

  “Follow me,” she cuts me off. It’s a command I don’t dare disobey.

  She whisks past me at ascender speed to the door. It slides open, and she waits for me in the hall. I stumble, my brain scrambling. Should I tell her about my mind coming apart under the high dosage? I vowed to keep everything sorkept, but surely, if she knew, she wouldn’t risk my sister’s lives. And I’ll still have the secret of the traveling, but… what if telling her about my mind coming apart will mean something to her? I can’t outsmart an ascender, and the fact that she so desperately wants to know makes me want to tell her even less.