Last Days (Last Days Trilogy #1) (7 page)

“Me?” Marcus laughed. “What’s wrong with you? When Daniel died you said you’d never be with anyone else. I never bought that. You dated, but you didn’t get involved. But somehow, I thought, okay, she’ll meet that special someone. But... Herbie?”

“Herbie is not...”

“Anything.”

“Excuse me?” Reggie asked.

“I finished your sentence. I said Herbie isn’t anything.”

“How dare you finish my sentence.”

“Someone has to. Shit, you’re worse than my mom.” Marcus said. “Hasn’t anyone told you how blind you’re being? Oh, wait, I forgot. Herbie pounds the hell out of a dent. Please, Reg.” Marcus held up his hand when she tried to talk. “Let me get this off my chest, okay?”

“Shoot.” Reggie threw up her hands in resignation

“The guy doesn’t even bathe,” Marcus shook his head. “He doesn’t.” Reggie started to say something in Herbie’s defense. “Let me finish. Granted, the guy is nice, but that isn’t enough to get you through the rough times you two will have. And you will have rough times, Reg. On top of that, the guy’s dumb, Reg; dumb as an ox. He can’t even say Calcium.”

“Not everyone is a genetic scientist, Mister Big Shot.”

“Calcium, Reg. Nine-year-olds know that word.”

“Why are you so upset?” Reggie asked.

Marcus fluttered his lips a little before speaking. “I want the best for you. Herbie’s not the best. And I think, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you may be a little hard up...”

Reggie exhaled loudly. “Hard up?”

“I definitely could have said that better.”

“Let me tell you something about Herbie.” Reggie placed on a stone face. “I love him dearly. He’s a wonderful, handsome man...”

“I’ve got to go home. I’m not feeling well.” Marcus walked from the dining room.

“He’s funny. He’s sensitive,” she called out louder as Marcus retreated.

“Where’s my coat?” Marcus looked around, spotted it, and picked it up from the back of the couch. “I’ll just say goodbye to Seth.”

Reggie followed Marcus down the hall to the bedrooms. “And aside from the fact that he can pound the hell out a dent, he has many, many hidden talents.”

Marcus walked into Seth’s room. He was sleeping. Marcus leaned over and kissed him. “’Night, little guy,” he whispered, then moved quickly toward the door and down the hallway. “I can’t believe it,” Marcus muttered. “Herbie?”

“There is nothing wrong with him.” Reggie raced after Marcus. “He’s a fine human being. Not to mention one hell of a lay.”

Open-mouthed, Marcus spun around. “Oh…my…God.”

“I’m marrying him, Marcus, and I want you to be my Maid of Honor.”

“Night, Reg.” He hurriedly kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll text you. No wait, you don’t have a cell phone.”

“Herbie’s buying me one.”

“Night.”

“Marcus,” Reggie called his name as he opened the door. “I’m lying.”

Marcus stopped and turned around. “About?”

“Everything. Herbie. The marriage. You being my Maid of Honor.”

“What?”

Reggie snickered. “You heard me. I’m lying. Well, except for the cell phone. Herbie said he’s getting me a flip thingy. Bargain Mart has them cheap.”

“So, I’ve heard.” Marcus leaned against the closed door. “Tell me, who is he and why was he here tonight?”

“He works for my dad. My dad set us up on this blind date. Now I can’t get rid of him.”

Marcus grinned. “I can help you there.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. It’s okay. He’s really harmless and I can’t do anything right now. My dad’s afraid he’ll quit if I do. So I have to wait until the Anderson’s car is finished.”

“That’s terrible,” Marcus said, laughing.

Reggie shrugged. “I know, but that’s my dad.”

Marcus looked at his watch.

“Tired, huh?” Reggie asked. “Being in a plane crash will do that to you.”

Marcus grinned broadly “I still can’t believe I slept through it.”

“Marcus?” Reggie asked.

“Yeah?” he responded.

“You’re staring.”

“Sorry. I was looking at your eyes.”

“Are they red?” Reggie asked, rubbing them. “They feel like they’re red.”

“No,” Marcus answered. “They’re amazing. I had a dream about your eyes today.”

“I wonder why?” Reggie asked coyly.

“No you don’t,” Marcus said.

“You’re funny,” Reggie retorted, a huge grin dawning on her face.

“I should go,” Marcus said. He then slid a finger the down Reggie’s face. “Tonight was nice.” He smiled. “Even if Herbie was here.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Good night.”

“Marcus?” Reggie asked plaintively. “I’ll understand if you’re too tired. But, I really missed hanging out with you. I was kind of hoping you’d stay for a while. Maybe, like old times, we could just hang out on the couch and talk.”

“Only if you’ve got popcorn.” Marcus said, already taking off his coat.

“I’ll take that as a ‘Yes.’” Reggie smiled. “I’ll get on it”

“And coffee, too, if you don’t mind.”

It was going to be all-nighter. Excitedly, Reggie went into the kitchen to start popping. She was so happy to have Marcus, for a brief moment she contemplated on letting him have one of her special brew coffee pods. That thought was fleeting; she started a pot of regular coffee after she put the popcorn in the microwave.

In Marcus’ office, on a small blackboard, sixty-three slashes marked his failed attempts to generate life in the egg that was to eventually become the clone.

Marcus felt Rose behind him as he stared at his ‘slash board,’ a stare that was lengthening with each day’s failure.

“It will work soon,” she whispered.

“I know.” Marcus nodded. “Wasn’t time yet. Today is the day.”

Rose raised her eyebrows. “That’s the first time you said
that
.”

“It’s simple,” he said. “Today is the first day we move to the batch four ovum.” Marcus grabbed his lab jacket and moved to the door.

“What’s so special about batch four?” Rose asked.

“A perfect history… batch four has never let me down.”

Rose followed Marcus without further questions, content to let her boss focus on the task at hand. They stopped mid-lab when Dr. Genevieve overtook them.

Marcus turned and held up a finger. “You feel it too, don’t you? Today is the day.”

“Today
is
the day.” Dr. Genevieve stepped closer. “The day to suspend the experiment.”

Marcus froze. “Suspend the experiment?”

“Yes. The violence has become too much.”

“Not really; we’ve become immune to it,” Marcus said jokingly. “Haven’t we, Rose?”

“Yes,” Rose answered. “Marcus was shot at the other day by some homeless religious fanatic.”

“Let’s not forget yesterday’s evacuation of the building,” Marcus added. “Not so bad, kind of a mid-evening pick-me-up… if not for the hard snow,” he shrugged. “So you see, no suspension.”

“Marcus,” Dr. Genevieve said soberly. “What do you plan to do with the egg once the generation is complete?”

“It will be the same as the in-vitro process. We’ll implant it in the surrogate mother four days after the cells multiply.”

“Hence the reason for suspension. We no longer have Jillian.”

“Okay,” Marcus continued gathering his things. “Who’s Jillian?”

“The surrogate mother we hired,” Dr. Genevieve told him.

“Did she quit?” Marcus asked.

“No, she’s dead.”

Marcus gaped, wide eyed.

“She committed suicide this morning; she said her soul was damned.”

“That’s terrible,” Marcus commented.

Dr. Genevieve nodded. “She had a husband and a son.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Marcus ran his hand over his head. “It’s terrible we don’t have a surrogate. Today’s the day. That only leaves four days.”

Rose closed her eyes and placed her hand on Marcus’ shoulder. “Sorry, Marcus. But,” she turned to Dr Genevieve, “we’ll continue when we find a replacement, right, doctor?”

“Absolutely,” He turned to Marcus. “So, Marcus...”

Marcus interrupted him with a raised hand.

“What’s wrong?”

Marcus ignored him and walked straight into his office. The door shut.

Dr. Genevieve looked at Rose. “What is he...?”

“Temper tantrum.”

“Come now. Dr. Leon is not having a...” He cringed at the loud crash from Marcus’ office, followed by four bangs and an even louder thump.

The office door flew open and Marcus slid to an abrupt halt in front of them. He smiled and moved to Dr. Genevieve. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was uh...” Dr. Genevieve’s eyes shifted about. “I was, uh, saying we will continue as soon as the institute locates a viable surrogate mother. We’ll begin the search right away.”

“Marcus,” Rose touched his arm. “It won’t be held up too long. We’re on batch number four. What did you say about number four? A powerful history of not letting you down?”

Marcus grinned. “You are absolutely right, Rose. Thanks.” He briefly grabbed hold of her shoulders, and then went back to his office, entered and shut the door.

The doctor looked at the closed door nervously. “I hope not another temper tantrum?”

Rose shrugged. Marcus popped his head out the door. “No. No tantrum,” he replied. “Phone call.” The door closed.

There was something about the day that just felt different to Reggie. A part of her felt disconnected from her job. She was late, which rarely happened, Cook had to yell at her more than once to ‘pick up’ and the morning rush proved too much.

The hard ding of the bell ate right through her and when Reggie screamed in reaction when Cook shouted her name, “All right!” from across the diner. After her outburst, Reggie paused then gave an apologetic smile to her customers. “Sorry. That was one club sandwich and a chef’s salad.”

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. “Reg!”

“Oh my God.” She snatched the menus from the customers and spun around. “Really?” She marched to the food window. “Really. How would you like it if I did this?” She smacked her hand on the bell. “Cook! Cook!”

“Reg!” Another voice called her name, only this time it was Charley.

Sure she was in trouble. Reggie wanted to just yell, “Okay, enough, I quit,” but it was either waiting tables or working for her father. Cringing she looked at Cook.

“Feel better?” Cook asked calmly.

“Yes.”

“Good. Now take the damn chicken to table four.”

Reggie grabbed the plate and walked to table four.

“Reg,” called Charley again.

“What? I’m working. I’m not yelling.”

Charley held up a phone.

“For me?” Reggie asked.

“No, I’m just showing it to you.”

“Such sarcasm,” Reggie said and reached for the phone.

Charley pulled it away. “I thought Herbie was picking you up a flip phone from Bargain Mart.”

“He did. I haven’t figured out how to use it.”

“It’s a flip phone, Reg, people figured those out decades ago.”

Grumbling, Reggie grabbed the phone. Mid placing it to her ear, she paused and covered the receiver. “Who is it? It’s not a bill collector is it?”

“Unless the bill is your soul. No. It’s Marcus.”

She wanted to smile, but grew worried because Marcus never called her at work “Hello?” She answered.

“Reg. You busy?”

“Um, no. What’s wrong?”

Marcus let out a long breath, one that carried over the line. “My friend, I need a small favor.”

Dr. Genevieve was the only on-site person to clear it. The other director, Dr. Hershey, was at the Spain office, but was soon on the phone with Genevieve.

“Highly unorthodox,” Dr. Genevieve told Marcus.

Marcus nodded calmly, hand on hip, and replied, “Just like the entire experiment.”

Dr. Genevieve said, “I can’t argue with that, but you do realize what you’re asking?”

“I’m asking for a ‘no stall’ on this experiment that we’ve pushed no matter what the odds. I’ve never said it,” Marcus raised an eyebrow, “but this is my baby. I negotiated the deal with the Vatican.
I
did. The new cloning techniques. Mine. The DNA restructuring of the egg. Mine. The new design of the in-vitro and artificial womb, all....”

“Where are you going with this?” Dr. Hershey asked over the speaker-phone.

“I’m pulling rank,” he declared, “which I haven’t done till now. With all I’ve done, all the funding I’ve pulled in, you have to give me this one.”

Dr. Genevieve sighed. “But the procedure taken before...”

Marcus cut him off. “Before, we didn’t know who we were dealing with. We do now. I know. I believe it a remarkable coincidence that this choice is happening at this point in the generation batch. Tell me, Doctors. Tell me to move ahead. Do not stall. Let’s do what we set out to do in the timetable we intended.” Marcus took a step forward. “Please.”

A Roy Orbison song soothed the lab where Rose and four lab workers waited when Marcus returned. The outer door buzzed and the lab doors banged open as Marcus moved through like a rocket, his lab jacket flapping. “Rose.” He pointed. “Get everything in order. Joseph, gather the nuclei. Tom, get the in-vitro tubes ready. Get me batch four.” Marcus moved across into the next lab and toward his office. “I’ll be right back!”

Rose followed. “Dr. Leon, what are you doing?”

Inside, Marcus grabbed an eraser from his desk and stepped to the chalkboard. In one sweep the slash marks vanished. He turned with a smile. “Erasing my errors.” He dropped the eraser and strode from the office. “No more failures. It’s time to succeed.”