The Power of Forgetting (47 page)

'What do you
want me to do?'

'Press nine,
pause, then one…'

I did so. And
he nodded.

'Eight, then
two?'

'You think?
Yes, it's right.' Oliver was looking happier.

'Seven,
then…'

'Just do
it.'

'Okay.'

We carried on.
The last one was five and zero. Oliver got me to repeat that one.
Then we went back up in reverse; six to four…. three to seven….and
so on.

'I am living
proof that it is better to be lucky than smart.' said Oliver as the
door smoothly slid upwards.

'Oh, I don't
know, ' I said 'I think you're pretty smart too.'

Oliver fitted
the panel back in place, 'No boyo. Just clever. Really "Smart" is
for our friend the prof.'

'Jules?'

'Yes. Dr
Rosen.' Oliver seemed slightly tense then, 'come on. Let's find out
what this really is all about.'

'Why are we
doing this?' I asked as we ducked until the still moving door.

'Perhaps we owe
it to ourselves.' He answered me with another expletive then that
it wasn't about to translate, and then said: 'None of us will ever
have a full night's sleep again, if we don't risk everything to
stop this thing that these people are doing. This is wrong.
Creation of a human or not the province of science, nor is it a
game for the luxury of the rich and influential.'

'Could it be a
game?'

'We shouldn't
rule it out.' Oliver looked uncomfortable, 'what we saw in the
mountain could just be a fore taste of the whole thing.'

'The end result
of which is a life time of experience in one night!'

'Did you think
this before?' I said, as we neared the end of the corridor. At that
moment Oliver stopped and held up a hand. I froze. Then I saw
something really odd. Something like a glass table and lots of
coloured glass tubes. Oliver moved slightly to the side. I stepped
forward slowly. My eyes followed the tubes, which extended along
this glass table towards a light source. The table itself was
empty. Oliver was already examining the glass. Then one look at me
was all it took. It is here. All at once I saw them, arranged in
circles round a central column of brilliantly lit tubes: the glass
tables extended outwards like the spokes of a wheel; and on each
one was laid a figure covered with a gauzy semi-opaque cloth.
Bodies. Oliver moved near to one. He leant over it, eyes scanning
closely inch by inch. I hadn't moved yet; I was rooted to the spot
at the sight of these copies.

'Who are they?'
I was having difficulty keeping the growl out of my voice. Fear of
the unknown.... or perhaps disgust, or revulsion. I looked at the
wrist viewer. Five degrees. It was cool in here, but not
freezing.

'Look at this.'
Oliver beckoned me. He pointed at a small panel at the end of this
glass bier. It was metal and about three inches long. There were
letters and numbers stamped into the surface, a bit like those
plastic strips with the gummed backs.... made on some sort of hand
held machine.

'Do you see?'
Oliver stared at me. I met his eyes. 'See what?' I said.

'Letters and
numbers; it coded for each one. What do you make of it?' Oliver
seemed puzzled by my reluctance, 'Right there.' He pointed at the
nearest one.

I went forward
and examined the panel. There were Roman numerals "I" then "V"
followed by a six-digit number.

'Sell by date?'
I said and laughed nervously.

'Hum,' Oliver
eyed me for a moment and moved to the next one, 'the code is the
same for all these,' he said, 'it must relate to some sort of batch
number.'

'That's like
eggs in egg boxes.' I said.

'Very like. All
hatched on the same day.'

I wish I hadn't
brought up the subject of eggs, as it didn't help at all. I was
thinking of all the things you could keep in a fridge, and chilled
people were not my preference. We carried on moving through the
room. We moved smoothly and very quietly so as not to wake these
bodies. The feeling of being in a hospital mortuary was strong, but
with the added unpleasantness of thought that they were actually
alive in some fashion.

'These are all
non-programmed forms,' said Oliver. He pulled back the gauzy
coverlet on one, 'this is the same.' He folded another over and
over again, revealing the marble whiteness of perfect skin.

It was
beautiful in a way. Like a painting that hasn't been finished.
There resemblance to nearly every woman you would ever see. Average
and yet extraordinary. A minute change here or there and she could
have looked like any one of a number of people. There was a downy
covering on the crown of the head that curled with baby softness
around the ears in short fine curls. The eyes were closed and
seemed like those of a doll. There was no expression in the face.
For even in sleeping faces we see the shadow of the person who is
dreaming in another place.

'Come on,' said
Oliver, 'we need to see what is in the next room.' He put the
covers back just as before, and then we passed to the end of this
room and through some double doors into a warmer more brightly lit
place. It was white. White shelves, white, floor, white chairs
around one white bench. And beyond that a wide space with what
looked like large oval shaped coffins with glass tops and white
glassine mouldings; arrange yet again in sixes around central
stalks of glass tubes filled with light. There were racks of lab
equipment and many drawers that could have contained allsorts. But
we went forward to examine these bulbous shapes.

At first I
could make out what I was looking at. There was no internal light
in the pod shaped cabinets. I leaned over the glass of one. My
breath misted on its surface.

Oliver came and
stood beside me, his expression one of seriousness, with just a
hint of caution. He ran his fingertips over an indented panel at
the top end.

Softly and
slowly a light came on inside this pod. The light was bluish and
like early morning light, and it shifted very slowly for two
minutes through the spectrum of daylight to an imitation of a
cloudy bright daylight that softly hovered round the face and torso
of this creature. I could not move; I could not wrench my eyes
away. I was transfixed now by a sight so alien. There was a woman,
laid in a cocoon of soft pale fabric. She was naked, except for a
light gauze cloth across the hip area. She had a sweet mouth of
pinky fullness, and the swelling ripeness of a pretty bosom. There
was a slender waist and long shapely legs. Yet she was petite, like
some kind of fair pixie. There were piles of fine pale hair around
the head, as if there was altogether too much of it. Her eyes were
closed.

I thought for a
moment that she was in some kind of suspended animation, like those
in the other room. But then I detected a faint rise of the chest
area, and there was suddenly a twitch of the muscle in the right
wrist.

'Oliver?' I
turned. He was looking in drawers systematically, opening them,
then letting them slide back on smooth runners and close silently.
He took a case out of one.

'Drugs.' He
said and glanced at me. I turned back to this pixie in a box. A
living doll. I wanted to wake her and see what she was. I looked
again to the pale creature, and saw a flutter for a fraction of a
second on the eyelash. Or was it? Perhaps it was my
imagination...

'So,' said
Oliver, 'there is another room beyond this one. Shall we see....'
he caught my eye, '.... what did you do?'

'Nothing. What
do you mean?' I looked down again. The figure in the pod-like bed
was waking up.

The eyelids
fluttered then opened. I was caught in a moment of internal
silence, I did not hear the soft hum that rose and fell. Oliver was
opening more cupboards.

The eyes were
large and luminous, and they seemed glazed, but then pulsed and
appeared to focus on me. These eyes blinked slowly and the pupils
moved in synchronisation scanning my face. How did I know? There
was more than just understanding, there was recognition. Something
like a slight drawing together of the brows for a microsecond; and
the lips parted in an exhalation. As yet she had not moved any
other part. The flush of pinkness on the cheeks was faint yet
seemed to heighten in another breath. Her left hand slid slowly up
her breast and touched her lips with two fingertips, and then the
hand turned outwards and towards me in salutation. She was the
honey in folds of petals and those violet eyes regarded me with
innocent openness. Drawn irresistibly towards her I felt around and
found a catch along the side of the pod. Something released. The
glass slid down and to one side. The lips parted with surprize.

'Jared!'
Oliver's voice jarred me back into awareness of my surroundings.
The sound that had been rising and falling for the last two minutes
became louder.

'Shit!' I said,
and ducked behind the pod. I felt with my hand and pressed the
switch again. The glass slid shut just as a bunch of people swarmed
in. Oliver signalled to me from behind a cabinet. I flattened
myself down on the floor.

There was some
low level muttering. Then someone moved to the other side of the
circle of pods.

'There's room
here.' said a voice with a slight hint of welsh. I noticed Oliver
slide his knife out and give me a sharp eyed meaningful look. I
shook my head slightly.

'I think it
would be better if we took them to Alexander first.' said a second
voice. At this I pricked my ears up. There was a pause, as if
someone was thinking. I could almost hear them breathing. The pause
seemed too long. Oliver was trying to catch my eye. I shook my head
furiously as he started to slide out from under the cabinet. The
first voice suddenly cracked across the tense pause: 'Well of
course we could use the other lab. It's closer to the exit....
that's if we need to get out quickly of course.'

'Yes....yes,
that's fine. We'll tell the technicians right away.'

The two people
moved away and left by another door. I stayed still listening
carefully. But Oliver was already on his feet and had moved to the
pod.

'Hell Jared!
Why do you always attract trouble?'

'What?' I stood
up. The woman was staring at him through the glass.

'She must be
the replacement for Janey's double. What must we do with her?' He
turned to me, 'don't worry,' he added, 'I'm not about to commit any
kind of genocide.'

'Oh....right...' I pressed the catch again. The glass slid open
again. Oliver felt around underneath the pod. Suddenly the whole
top cracked apart and lifted up and slid upwards tipping towards
the central core of glass tubes.

There she
was.... a perfect woman.... well she was to me. The spilling length
of pale gold strands tumbled in a slippery stream around her
shoulders as she sat up.

Oliver moved
over to one of the cupboards and quickly pulled out some fabric:
garments that would fit the girl's petite form.

'Jared?' the
voiced was soft and light; inflected with the slightest hint of an
accent.

'Yes?' I must
have looked alarmed. The girl reached out to me and touched my lips
with her fingers. I shuddered. Her touch awoke a vicious sense of
rawness and emptiness; a hollow longing that could not be answered
by logic or argument. She cupped her hands round my cheeks. I was
shocked by my reaction to her. You might suppose that it was to do
with the shock of a naked woman in close proximity. But it
wasn't.... well kind of; I'm not saying that didn't have a bearing
on the situation. But I was afraid to fall; too far too fast. And I
felt then; as I do now that that moment was the one where I
knew.... for certain what was really true. And Amber....for it was
her inhabiting that lab-made body; concocted out of the base
ingredients of life and infused with a double helix in which
substituted parts of the spiral where part elemental.... she taught
me that. Then I knew that I loved so deeply no other but Janey.

Amber looked up
at me and said, as one who never knew any other person on the human
side in this way: 'I came for you Jared; I want you to know that we
are all here for you. All my sisters and I will follow you. I tell
you this; because you will need us all later. And Janey will need
us most of all. We will watch over her for you; and bring her to a
safe place....do you see?'

I just stared
at her, hardly knowing how to react. The trouble I found with these
kinds of creatures was to understand the effect that they had on
certain men. It clearly wasn't working on Oliver in the same way.
He eyed her with a wide-eyed surprise that was part reactive male
instinct, part the self-discipline of the trained soldier.

'Under suit,'
He said, and pressed it into my hands, 'we need to be quick.'

I quickly
unfolded it in my hands, it was fine as silk. She immediately
cooperated. The irony of the moment! Some skills do come in handy.
I'd had more practice getting girls out of their clothes; but it
worked in reverse just as well. Oliver handed me the over suit and
belt. She slipped into that as well and then swung herself over
onto the floor and pointed. She fastened the girdle tight and
collected some items out of a nearby drawer. She slipped on the
boots I had brought to her, and bent to lace them up.

'I don't know
how.' she said, with the ends in each hand. I knelt down before her
and took the laces and quickly pulled them tight and fastened them.
She was searching my face all the time. I glanced up, and she had
her head slightly to one side. It was a gesture that Janey herself
used. I felt a flush of heat in my cheeks rising upwards, and
fanning downwards towards my chest. Oliver meanwhile had finished
circling all the pods in the room.

'She is the
only one in here.' He said and then checked all the closures on his
suit. He stopped and looked at me, 'you need to get dressed Arden.
The next room is a cool one.'