Days' End (11 page)

“Mr. Scario has just arrived. Prepare his room at once.”

Dr. Leyden turned to try and determine the identity of the person who had just spoken. Although it had been uttered in barely more than a whisper, the layout of the lobby carried the words to him as if spoken in his ear. There were five employees standing in a small group, and it was impossible to tell which of them had unknowingly divulged this information.

What is Scario doing here? he thought. The experiment would not be completed for some time now. The stages that were left were still problematic and could result in enormous time delays. His being here now served no purpose.

Dr. Leyden couldn’t imagine that Scario would be touring the labs congratulating everyone on the good work done thus far. Scario had done so much to keep his identity a secret that revealing himself to the staff at this point made no sense whatsoever. A little investigating is in order, Dr. Leyden thought as he strode to the elevator.

Although he did plenty of snooping, Dr. Leyden neither saw nor heard anything more about Mr. Scario over the next few days. If in fact he had arrived, he had not made his presence known to anyone who didn’t need to know. As far as Dr. Leyden could tell, none of the scientists suspected anything. The staff obviously had to be aware of Scario’s arrival, but none of them gave any indication.

His investigation continued and so did his nightmares. That night it was much worse. By morning he was shaking so badly that he had been unable to get out of bed for an hour for fear that his legs would be incapable of holding him.

March 27, Los Angeles, CA

Alastair’s weekend had been extraordinarily exhilarating. The double eclipse the previous night had put him in his best mood since Nysa’s departure. He had spent the weekend taking in movies and playing video games, but he also spent some time with the guys discussing the event of a lifetime. It had lasted much longer than he had expected, and the photos and videos posted online were nearly as amazing as the event itself. He went to his meetings, and took the opportunity to go out and get some coffee afterward as a way of keeping out of the apartment. He had been in such a good mood that he had even gone to the park. He walked around for a couple of hours, enjoying the warm spring weather, the sounds of the children playing, and the thoughts of Nysa that drifted lazily through his mind. A content smile played on his lips, and happiness filled his heart.

Keeping my identity and monies a secret is becoming increasingly more complicated. With fingerprinting, DNA, and money-laundering rules, the ability to hide is occupying more and more of my time. Most of my assets are now in the Cayman Islands and Switzerland, which makes them more difficult to retrieve. I can’t just wire in millions of dollars anytime I want. I’ve got to find an easier way to conceal my fortune while still keeping it accessible.

April 2, Outside Castle Rock, CO

The most exciting news around the lab was the fact that the Eisenhauers, the nuclear transfer specialists, were now working on creating a viable embryo with their newly reconstructed DNA. They were working closely with Dr. Phipps, as he was in charge of caring for the embryos once they had undergone the enucleation, nuclear transfer, and fusion. The biggest problem they needed to overcome now was the simple fact that generally only one or two embryos from every hundred created would become viable. The Eisenhauers averaged three per hundred, which statistically far exceeded the average, but was still a fairly small amount of embryos to work with. That was where Dr. Phipps’ specialty would come into play. He had to correctly identify those one or two that had the highest chance of implantation and then successfully transfer them into the womb of their surrogate mother.

Nysa finally understood where Jacqueline, her neighbor, came into play. She was the outsider. She had not been involved in any of the scientific research or processes. It left very few options for her function. Nysa assumed Jacqueline had been brought in to provide the womb for the first cloned human being. She was impressed with Jacqueline’s composure in the face of such a monumental event. While she hadn’t had much interaction with the young woman since they first met at the elevator, Jacqueline seemed to be neither excited by the prospect nor stressed out by it. She seemed almost indifferent to the event. Nysa found that bizarre. If you were going to allow your body to incubate and sustain the first cloned human fetus, wouldn’t you feel something about it?

“Whatever,” Nysa mumbled, and tried to refocus on her work. They were all excited at the prospect of being the first scientists to clone a human. Electricity filled the air as the various scientists and assistants buzzed about the room. That energy doubled when Dr. Phipps announced he believed he had a viable embryo and sent Laura to find a medical technician to get Jacqueline ready for the implantation. Laura raced to the elevators and disappeared.

The process was a relatively simple procedure. They transported the embryo to the exam room where Jacqueline was waiting. Using a catheter, Dr. Phipps inserted the fertilized egg up her vagina, past her cervix, and into her uterus. There, with the help of acupuncture, the egg would—if all went as planned—implant in the uterine wall and develop into one of science’s greatest achievements.

April 3, Los Angeles, CA

The story was about another meteorite that had hit, this time in southern Mississippi. Images taken from a news helicopter showed a large crater billowing thick black smoke into the air. According to the reporter, the meteorite had hit late the night before. As reports came in of several cases of skin irritations on people in the vicinity of the meteorite, ranging from a burning feeling to painful, sting-like sensations, residents were evacuated. The general consensus was that the irritations were from all the debris and ash kicked up into the air, but the CDC had been advised of the situation and was on the scene investigating the possible chemical or biological causes.

Alastair stared at his television, unable to believe what he was seeing. He was beginning to be really thankful that he did not live in the southeastern part of the United States. Having just been hit by a tsunami, and now having to deal with some sort of skin condition on account of a meteorite, was putting a strain on the medical resources of the area, as well as the people living there.

The outpouring of help from the rest of the country overshadowed any negative news coming out of the region. While burdening their already understaffed hospitals due to the tsunami, doctors and nurses from around the country were flying in to donate their time treating the overwhelming number of people flooding the local hospitals with symptoms of this unidentified skin ailment.

Alastair turned off the television at the end of the story, hoping to avoid any further drag on what had been, up until this latest national news report, a very pleasant day. He quickly showered, brushed his teeth, and climbed into bed with his laptop. Before turning off the light and going to sleep, Alastair enjoyed the very inspiring contents of the memory card Nysa had left for him.

I believe I have found a way to bring this miserable curse to an end. I just read an article about a sheep named Dolly. I think it may be the only way to end this nightmare I am forced to endure. This idea requires further exploration to determine if it’s feasible, but it gives me hope.

April 6, Outside Castle Rock, CO

Nysa was awakened from her sleep at 1:16 A.M. with the news that Jacqueline had been taken to the medical wing with vaginal bleeding. As she was being transported on a gurney to the medical facilities, an overhead light had burst, raining glass down on Jacqueline and the nurse who had been pushing the bed. Jacqueline was fine, but the nurse had suffered multiple small lacerations to the top of her head where the glass had landed. The nurse remained for medical treatment while someone else pushed Jacqueline’s hospital bed to her room. There they moved her into a different bed, making sure there was no broken glass in her gowns, and completed their examinations. The doctor had come in a short while later with the bad news.

Jacqueline had taken the news of her miscarriage especially hard. Nysa had spent the night and morning with her, offering a shoulder to cry on and lending an ear when the young woman wanted to talk. She alternated back and forth between the two roles as Jacqueline would stop crying and talk about life in her hometown, only to burst into tears again. Nysa listened patiently. It was difficult to see the woman in anguish, and Nysa was beginning to see her not only as another participant in the experiment, but as a young woman who needed a friend. Nysa knew that Jacqueline had the same restrictions as all others did in regards to contact with the outside world, so who else could she share her pain with? All night they discussed not only the miscarriage, but also Jacqueline’s life.

According to Jacqueline, life in a small town was not always easier than in a big city. You had no privacy in a small town. Jacqueline had been the captain of the cheerleading squad at her high school and also daughter of the mayor. Everyone knew who she was, what she was doing, and when. That fact had irritated her to no end. Hadn’t those people had a life of their own? Why had they always put their noses into her business? Everyone was always talking about the charm of living in a small town, but Jacqueline had been disgusted by the constant intrusions into the most intimate details of her life. Still, she’d put on a smiling face when she’d gone about town and had done her best to fit in.

Jacqueline’s father had never been a warm and tender man, but he had also never been cruel or violent. That changed when, at the age of fifteen, she had been caught smoking marijuana with her boyfriend at the park after school. Her father had gotten drunk that night, and as he ranted and raved about how she had embarrassed the family and ruined his political career, he struck and kicked her repeatedly. She did her best to fend off the onslaught of blows. The last thing she remembered was cowering in the corner of her bedroom trying to protect herself as the fists and feet rained down on her body. A particularly well placed kick had broken three ribs. She had passed out from the excruciating pain.

The next day she had learned the true extent of her injuries. Her father had broken her cheekbone, the ulna in her right arm, and three ribs. Worst of all, he had caused irreparable damage to her fallopian tubes with an especially violent kick to her lower abdomen. He had been arrested that evening and was ultimately sentenced to ten years in prison for assault and battery.

Jacqueline had not visited or corresponded with him even once. Letters came in the mail but were immediately torn up and thrown into the trash. Her family had begged her to forgive him. They pleaded that he had made a mistake, was sorry for what he had done, and was serving his punishment. Jacqueline ignored them all and went on with her life the best she could, but she was constantly faced with staring people or insensitive remarks about her experience. “It’s none of your business!” she had wanted to shout, but she had kept quiet about her father and that dreadful night.

Soon it became too much for her. She moved north to live with an aunt on her mother’s side, the only one who had understood and agreed with Jacqueline’s desire to completely cut her father out of her life.

Nysa sat and listened, horrified at the thought of being beaten unconsciousness by your own father one day, and finding out the next that he had also taken away your ability to ever bear a child. She listened as Jacqueline spoke of her healing process, moving from a general distrust and dislike of men in general to the despair over her infertility and then her eventual acceptance and decision to look forward to good times rather than back to the bad.

Jacqueline had worked hard and finished high school early. Her good grades had earned her a full scholarship to Notre Dame. She jumped at the chance to move out on her own and leave some memories behind. She had majored in Theology, immersing herself in her studies.

The healing process continued through her college years. Although she did not date, she acquired a few male friends and took on a teaching assistant role for one of her professors. With Professor Uda’s guidance and assistance, Jacqueline gained admission to the Theological Studies graduate program to advance her knowledge. She continued working closely with the professor while completing her Master’s degree, and as he slowly chipped away at her defenses she revealed more and more of her past to him. She was shocked when one day she realized he knew almost everything about her. She had told him of her childhood, the loss of that childhood at the hands and feet of her father, and her subsequent distrust of all things male. This last bit of information, she remembered, had given him a sympathetic chuckle.

At the end of the fall quarter of her last year, Professor Uda had offered her an opportunity to complete her remaining requirements by meeting with a representative of a colleague. She had agreed. At the meeting with Mr. Stevens, she had been offered her Master’s degree as well as a sizeable trust fund if she would be willing to bear and raise the world’s first, cloned human.

She had stared at Professor Uda
a
s the proposition was explained. He had appeared to be deeply in thought, gently rubbing the side of his neck. He was a handsome man, with only the beginnings of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and across his forehead and grey just starting to invade his hair. His skin was weathered, like he’d spent much of his time in the sun.

Jacqueline’s attention had snapped back to what was being said. She couldn’t have heard the proposal right. When Stevens had finished, she’d sat, stunned by the offer. Her initial reaction had been to reject the proposal, but as she’d contemplated it further, she’d realized that it might be her only chance at motherhood. The decision would not only be a difficult one, but one with unimaginable ramifications.

Although she still hadn’t had any romantic interest in men, she’d had a strong maternal instinct. Additionally, all her medical expenses would be paid for, money would be provided to help raise the child, and the baby would be hers. Her child. She’d finally talked herself into it, putting aside any question of morality or ethics surrounding the cloning of a human being, and had given Mr. Stevens her answer. She’d had to address a few formalities with the college, but upon her departure at the end of the fall semester, she was awarded her M.T.S. degree.