The Book of Eva: Clone, Book One Page 7

  And then I walked out, around the corner, and promptly emptied the contents of my stomach in a bush. I’d just committed treason and forced Cook to go along with me. People had been executed for less. In one single act, I would give the people of Aeropia cause to doubt my father and question their loyalty to the country.

  Even now, as I waited for my death in this tower, if I had a chance to do it over, I’d do it again as I did that day.

  But maybe with one less bite of that awful mush.

  6

  While I plotted to feed the clones and lower freemen and women of Aeropia, another group planned to seize control. Over the next several months, Eva met with the Gatekeeper, collected information, and waited. Always blunt, the Gatekeeper’s attitude never changed. The mistress always kept Eva at a distance, and cold air hung around her like an icy cloak.

  It didn’t matter. She’d long since recognized Carmen was not her friend, nor had she wanted her to be. After losing Dante, she didn’t want any other friends. She missed his company, his jokes, the way he’d touched her. She missed the heat in his eyes, the hunger on his face when he looked her way.

  Several of the clones she’d seen around the institution were no longer there. Months before, they’d begun to slowly disappear. The vanishing act, so slight, if Eva hadn’t been watching, she wouldn’t have noticed. She asked Dante. He simply shrugged and said they’d gone.

  Michael Axis still roamed the Institute. Whenever she saw him, she gave him plenty of space. She wished she could say that because he was a clone, she could be more social toward him, but she couldn’t. He wore the face of a man who’d assaulted her, a man who’d caused her pain. For that, she could not forgive his clone.

  Eva studied a lot, read stacks of books, and absorbed as much information as she could. Now that she could read, she hungered for the written word and found power in text. She told me it had become clear why education had always been denied to her kind. With wisdom came power, and Eva wanted wisdom.

  They kept her locked in her room most of the time and only let her out to train with Dante or for meetings across the border. Never was she allowed to roam free. She’d lost that privilege the day she killed the guards. Her captivity hurt almost as much as Dante’s indifference. She’d tasted freedom and now they starved her of it, even though Dante said they planned to set her free. In desperation, she clung to his words. For that, she would do whatever they wanted.

  Shortly after her last border crossing, a hairdresser came. She’d clipped, lightened, and styled her long hair for hours, and the woman was very good at what she did. As Eva stared in the mirror, she could barely believe who stared back. Her hair swung just above her shoulders when she turned her head side to side. She had to blink to be sure it was not a video she watched.

  She had gained some weight. Her face was not as drawn as when she’d first arrived. Her complexion glowed, and the blue chip no longer blinked back at her. When she touched her cheek, Eva could feel no indication it had ever been there. The surface of her skin remained smooth, without a scar to mar her appearance. They had removed it from inside her mouth, careful to leave her skin without a blemish.

  In that mirror, Eva assumed her new identity. She leaned in slowly, waving her hand the way her keeper did. Watching her image, she’d tilted her head. “You have been most gracious.” A little more lipstick, a touch of blush. Eva repeated words she’d heard on the video footage. “My husband and I welcome you.” She’d laughed and sat back, clapping her hands together, delighted with her performance.

  “My name is Analise—please call me Ana. Yes, I am the president’s wife. First lady.” She paused for a second. No, that was not right. She cleared her throat and tried again. “My name is Ana. I am President of Aeropia.” She tipped her head in a regal angle and waved. Since it was not an elected position, should anything happen to the president, Ana would assume his place. And yes, something was going to happen to the president—as soon as possible. Eva would see to it.

  “My name is Ana, President of Aeropia.” She’d stared into the mirror. A cold chill crept across her face. “And things are about to change.”

  “Not all men were bad.” As Eva spoke to me, she slipped into a trance, the monstrous mask eased, and I glimpsed the tug of a smile on her lips. For several moments, she’d remained silent, as though she basked in a pleasant memory, and I was thankful, for truly I would not have known what to say. She’d just spoken of the plot to murder my father as though it were a holiday and then basked in warm memories of how she’d carried it out.

  But it was that look that kept me silent. It was the same expression I had seen in the mirror when thinking about Axel. It was then I had an epiphany. Even though she hadn’t said it, she’d loved Dante. This woman who didn’t grasp what love was, most would say had been born incapable of it, in fact loved, and loved deeply.

  Her story both fascinated and terrified me. I could feel the shift in her, the way she relaxed. Before that pause, I believed she would kill me and had heard the spite in her words when she spoke of my family and the coup. When her attention finally returned to me, she’d hidden the implement of death, with which she’d intended to murder me, back in her pocket. That day, I would not die by her hand. We’d formed a silent treaty—for the moment.

  “I need to tell you the rest. I want you to know what is coming and understand why this has to happen.”

  “You loved him,” I whispered.

  “Yes.” Sadness filled her expression. “Though I didn’t understand that was what I felt, not until it was too late.”

  Two months before my nineteenth birthday, Eva’s mission escalated, yet they would not tell her why they’d advanced their plans by several months. In the early morning hours, she received a summons, one she couldn’t refuse. Eva had been told the director of the Institute wished to see her. She’d never met him, had only glanced at him in passing, and hadn’t a clue what he wanted, but he’d taken precautions, showing he did not trust her. She’d shuffled down the hall, her wrists cuffed to her waist, ankle restraints preventing her from taking full steps.

  Dante had been absent for several months, out on assignment in Aeropia, and had just gotten back that morning, or so she’d been told. Time stretched out between his visits, growing longer with each mission. She’d missed him. As the spring came and went, she wondered when she would see him again.

  And then that day came. Summer arrived, and so did Dante, but along with him came a deep sense of foreboding. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling something bad was about to transpire.

  She walked like a death row inmate, staring at the stark white tiles lining the hallway, perfectly aligned like soldiers in formation. Their brilliance stabbed into the backs of her eyes, causing her to narrow them to avoid the pain. She could not raise her hands to block the effect, so she suffered without a word to those who escorted her. Fluorescent lights overhead blinked and buzzed, accelerating the severity of her migraine to almost unbearable by the time she reached the director’s office.

  Since she’d received the emotional download, migraines were not occasional, but something she lived with every day. She suffered a lot from them, and sometimes it took only a faint sound or faded light to send her into a murderous rage. The medical staff would give her pills that made her feel numb, but the pain always remained, threatening to bore a hole through her brain.

  Surprisingly, none of the other clones who’d received the download had the headaches. Eva alone suffered this fate. But when she thought about it, she understood it had been a small price to pay for freedom.

  They didn’t allow her anywhere around the Institute without an armed escort. That day, she had three soldiers carrying blasters on full charge. Excessive even for them. They followed close enough to keep her from escaping, but far enough back they could squeeze off a shot if she thought to attack. At one time, she’d walked the corridors alone without anyone looking twice. Now they treated her like a monster.
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br />   “Halt.”

  She stopped outside a door and stared at the sign. The guard’s words bounced around her skull like an echo, long after he was silent. This was his office. The office of the man who had taken her in, fed her, clothed her, and assigned Dante as her trainer.

  One of the guards nudged her in the shoulder with the flash suppressor on the end of his weapon. “Knock.”

  His words and the bump from his weapon sent pulses of pain throbbing through her head, like ripples across a disturbed pond. She forced a response past her lips, even though all she wanted to do was vomit. “I can’t. I’m chained.”

  He huffed behind her and handed his weapon to one of the other guards. “If she makes a wrong move, shoot her.” The soldier who’d spoken came up behind her, keys jingling. “Stand aside.”

  She shuffled out of the way. Only compliant because her curiosity had been triggered with the excessive security and trip to the office of a man she’d never met.

  He reached out and knocked, backing away from the door without taking his eyes from her. A voice from the other side called out. “Come in, Eva.” It sounded familiar, setting off silent warnings and making the hair on her neck stand at attention.

  She glanced up to a camera hanging above the door, pointed at her. Eyes were always on her. Nothing new. Still, she’d never get used to being watched so closely, when before people had liked to pretend she was invisible.

  The door slid open, and she stepped over the threshold. Two men stood with their backs to her, staring out a bare window. The light from the sun burned into her brain. Pulses of white-hot swells crashed onto her like an ocean’s surf. Nonexistent sound roared in her ears. She looked down and tried to tuck her face into her shoulder, wanting to bury her head in her hands.

  Even though they faced away from her, she could identify the taller one as Dante. She didn’t need to see his face. Her senses during her migraines were amplified, and a scent hung in the air, the residue of the spice and clove soap he used every morning. The familiar pattern of his breathing relaxed her. Everything from the way he stood, looking out the window, to the angle he tilted his head was all Dante; as clear as a fingerprint or retinal scan.

  He was also irritated about something. His impatient tapping on the sill told her that better than anything he could say.

  “You’re back.” A part of her leapt with joy, another felt nervous about why he was here—why she’d been summoned to the director’s office.

  “Yes.” Dante turned around. His face didn’t reflect any of his thoughts. She’d liked that about him. Most of the time she had no clue what he was thinking. He was a puzzle she’d loved to contemplate.

  That day, she could feel the tension in the air, had caught it in the stiff way he held his shoulders, the way he stood as if on the defensive. Something had him on edge, and she wanted to know what, but his answer, like many others, would come later. Dante would not discuss it here. He had always been a private man, and that trait would never change.

  “Sit down, Eva,” the other man said, not bothering to turn around. Yet his voice felt…

  Shuffling to the chair in front of the director’s desk, Eva slowly sank to its hard surface. Dante walked over and unlocked her wrist cuffs. His thumb brushed against a mark left in her flesh, a souvenir of the guards’ treatment. That small gesture, though he may not have been aware he’d done it, eased her stress.

  She lifted her face and caught him studying her. No, he wasn’t happy at all. Not about what was about to happen, nor the way she’d been delivered to this room. He looked away, leaving her ankles secure. Three steps back and he resumed his post by the window.

  Eva glanced down at her wrists and rolled them around, massaging each with the opposite hand to bring the circulation back. No, the guards had not taken care when they’d applied them. They did not like her.

  The director turned around.

  If the world had ended in that moment, she would not have been more shocked than she was at the face of the man who stared at her. Her heart pounded in her throat, and her head threatened to explode. She blinked and rubbed her temple. She’d wanted to bolt, but her bound ankles kept her from doing it. “General Michael Axis.”

  “Hello, Eva.” His soft voice sent a cold creeping down her spine. Memories spiked her brain, and she started to tremble. He is not the man who hurt me. She repeated the mantra over and over silently, as she stared. “He’s just a clone.” Though she said it, she still wasn’t sure if her nightmare had materialized before her or not.

  “Actually, Eva, I’m not.”

  She grasped the arms of the chair, forcing steadiness to her body, and the room rolled under her. She struggled to catch her breath. All along, she’d thought the man she’d seen around the Institute a clone. All along, she’d given him space and avoided him, convincing herself he was an innocent. She’d controlled her rage and kept it leashed around him. And for what? She should have killed him when she’d had the chance.

  “I—”

  The general waved his hand. “Silence, Eva.”

  She shut her mouth, forcing the rage down to the pit of her stomach, where it churned and knotted inside her belly. Rapist. Murderer. Asshole. Her hands balled so tight, blood refused to travel to her fingers.

  Dante watched her and frowned. When Eva looked into his eyes, she saw something she couldn’t quite place. Sadness? Regret? He turned away, breaking contact.

  Michael Axis was her savior? This was who she’d worked and trained for? “You.” The anger climbed again, twisting her insides even more. Her fingers sprang open, and she clenched the chair’s arms.

  “We are not here to talk about the past, Eva,” Michael said.

  She’d glanced back at Dante. “Has he told you? What he has done to me?”

  Dante came around to face her again. “Yes, but not until right before you walked through that door.”

  “I don’t want to do this.” Eva rose.

  Michael raised his voice. “You will do as you’re told. Sit down, Eva.”

  She dropped back onto her butt. “I’m not going to help you.”

  General Axis walked over. His hands dropped to her wrists, pinning them to the chair arms. He tipped the entire seat back on two legs, leaned down, and stared into her eyes. “Shut the hell up and don’t speak unless I ask you a question. You are a clone and will not disrespect me.” His warm breath hissed against her face. When she didn’t back down, he yelled to the guards in the hall. “Secure her.”

  They quickly cuffed each wrist to the chair, while he held her. Once Eva was secure, Michael lowered the chair and released her. He walked around his desk and sat. For several seconds, he watched her before he leaned back and propped his feet up on the surface of the desk in front of her. “That’s better.”

  He pulled a cigar from the drawer and lit it. “These are illegal in Aeropia.” He took a puff and blew the smoke out. It floated in front of her.

  Eva gagged. The smell called forth memories she despised, things she didn’t want to think about.

  “My mother was a clone,” he said.

  She ignored him. There was no room for pity in her heart. Not for him.

  “The government of Aeropia murdered her. It has become fat on corruption.”

  She wanted to kill him, not chat. “You’re just as bad.”

  “No, Eva, I’m not. Have I told you how much I like that name?” He took another puff, and the smoke streamed from his mouth and nostrils. “I saved you. I’ve given you a life, a chance to live the way you wanted. The way I see it, we’re even.”

  “We won’t be even until you’re dead.” She tugged on the wrist restraints, bucking up in her seat. “I’m not helping you.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that.” Michael clucked his tongue and set the cigar down. He dropped his feet and placed both palms on the desk, leaning forward. “But after you hear what I have to say, I think you will do anything I want.” He picked up his cigar, took another puff, and lifted h
is chin, blowing the smoke toward the ceiling. Reaching over to his ashtray, he stubbed his cigar out. “It’s a nasty habit, but I like breaking the rules. Do you know why you’re going to help me, Eva?” His dark eyes pinned her.

  “No. But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” She spit on his desk.

  His attention went to the wet spot on one of the documents before returning to her face. For a moment, she thought he’d jump up and backhand her. He surprised her by laughing, even though she hadn’t meant to be funny.

  “Yes. Yes, I am,” he said. “When we put you under to remove the chip, I also had one installed. Call it forethought, if you will.” He smiled. “Insurance.”

  Eva raised an eyebrow. “It hurts me that you don’t trust me.”

  “I would be a fool to trust you. Given the chance, you’d kill me. That’s not going to happen. See, the chip I implanted…” He tapped his skull. “It’s deep in your brain. Do you know what the cortex is, Eva?”

  “It’s the place I hold every thought about how I intend to kill you.”

  “You’re funny.” He pointed. “Let me explain. If you choose not to help, I merely hit a button and zap. No more Eva. Dead. It will fry your cerebral core.” He leaned forward again. “And guess what the true genius of it is.”

  She stared him down, not really caring what he thought was so special about whatever he’d ordered inserted in her head.

  “The true genius is, once it destroys your brain, it dissolves. Disappears—like magic. They will think you’ve had an aneurysm rupture, nothing more. That’s what I call a clean assassination.”

  “If you kill me, you’ve nobody to switch places with Ana.”

  “I can do this without you, but it complicates things. I need time to finish moving my people into place.”