"Take me to this address," she said, swiping her fingers forward to send the information to the automated cabs data base. A chime signaled the successful upload of the address of the convention center where she would be speaking before several hundred of her contemporaries in three hours time.
Public speaking was something she thought she’d have gotten used to after all these years but it still unnerved her to get up in front of hundreds of her peers and have to speak about her work. But, since the military had started twisting her Father’s Phase Two technology to create some kind of super soldier program she needed to make sure that the scientific community was on her side. She would not let the work that her father had done to preserve and extend life be used to create monsters.
She tapped the silver band on her wrist to make her speech visible upon her Visual Interface contact lenses. While the cab moved into the dense traffic of New York she began going over each and every line making sure that every fact was accurate and that it was free of any embarrassing grammatical errors. After she was satisfied that the speech was as perfect as she was capable of making it she closed the document and looked out the window for the first time since the cab had started moving and frowned. She had never seen this part of the city before.
"Where the fuck is this?" she said. "Turn around, you’re taking me away from the wrong way."
Her demand was met with silence. "Reaching to the small panel on the back of the drivers seat she pressed a red button with the word ’assistance’ over it. She waited for a few seconds before hitting it again, and again, but there was no response.
"Damn it," she said tapping the silver bracelet on her wrist. "Call the Cab company."
She saw the glowing red number hover before her eyes with the word ’Dialing’ underneath. There was a loud beeping followed by a connection failed message.
"What the fuck?" she said and tried again and, again, received a message that said that the connection had failed.
Her mind raced and she looked around at the panel in front of her but there was only a small screen showing a map of the city with a red blip indication their position and that useless assistance button. She tried the door but the handle had been disabled as well as the window controls.
Seeing the cars passing them she pounded on the window in an attempt to get their attention. When no one so much as glanced in her direction she realized that the windows must have be tinted to prevent anyone from looking into the cab. Her chest started to tighten as the realization of what was happening began to sink in.
"I’m being abducted," she said and tried calling out again. This time to Nine One One. The result was the same, ’failed connection’.
The cab turned down a narrow street and began to slow. Her pulse raced with the onset of panic. Over and over she slammed her fist against the window in an attempt to shatter it but only succeeded and bloodying her knuckles.
"God Damn it!" she said twisting so she could try to kick the obstinate barrier. "Why. Won’t. You. Fucking. Break!"
Each word was accompanied by as hard of a kick as she could deliver. A kick she knew was more than sufficient to break bricks but the window held firm all the same. She screamed in primal fury and twisted in the seat, fingers scrambled over the vinyl, tearing at the fabric in and effort to make a way, anyway, out. Maybe if she could get to the trunk?
That’s when she realized the car had stopped.
The door flew open and several sets of hands reached in. Screaming as loud as she could she blocked, bit, and punched. More then one man exclaimed in pain and pulled back but there was too many of them. In only a few seconds they had her out of the car and slammed to the pavement with enough force to knock the air out of her lungs. A dark shadow loomed over her.
"You bit me you fucking cunt!" he said and the outline of a fist filled her vision.
Samantha gasped, pushing herself up from her desk, shaking herself awake. Rubbing her hand over her face she saw the rotating hologram of the program she had been working on and, to the left of it, was the blinking image of Margaret.
"Margaret?" she said blinking still disconcerted from the dream. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you..." the image solidified and the beeping stopped indicating the call had been answered. The face frowned. "You fell asleep didn’t you?"
Samantha rubbed her eyes realizing what had happened. "I was tired, Margaret, that’s all."
"No, it’s not, and you know it," said the strangely mature voice from the smooth oval face of a woman that, looked, no more than twenty. "You had that nightmare again, didn’t you?"
Samantha’s hand slapped down on the desk, "I’m fine," she said. Feeling the heat in her words she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly expelling the air she continued. "I’ve just been working too many hours that’s all. Just tell me why you called."
Margaret gave her a look that she had long known meant that she was letting it go but only for now, and pulled off the towel that was covering her long blond hair. "Do you see this?"
"You went swimming," she said with a shrug. "So what? Ever since you’ve acclimated to your Phase Two body you’ve been swimming every day."
"True, but I do my laps in the morning," said Margaret. "Since it is nearly midnight that should tell you something."
Samantha rolled her eyes, "That you went swimming late? Can you, please, get to the point, Margaret? It’s been a long day and I really don’t have time for games."
"Don’t you roll your eyes at me girl," said Margaret in a tone that could still make Samantha wince. "You know damn well and good that I don’t stay up this late, nor should you in your condition."
It was weird hearing that tone from a face so young. It had been over a year since Margaret had successfully undergone the transference procedure that had switched her consciousness from the cancer ridden body that she had been born with into the Phase Two that was a perfect copy of how her body had been when she had been in college. While it had been hard to see her aunt go through the pain of her illness and, later, the difficulties of adjusting to the new body she was happy to see this woman that she loved healthy again.
Unfortunately the new body had done nothing to change the Margaret’s irritating habit of mothering. Samantha’s own mother had been gone for sixteen years and she had long since moved past the age where she needed the advice of a parent. Not that Margaret would ever see it that way.
"What did he do?" she asked.
"You want to know what this demon child of yours did? Why don’t you ask him yourself?" The image of Margaret reached over and hauled Samantha’s ten year old son, Mason, into view. "Tell your mother what you did."
He was chewing his lower lip and Samantha groaned. It was never good when he did that. "Go ahead, baby, tell me what happened."
"It was an accident..."
He didn’t even get the words out before Margaret yelled over him, "It was no accident you evil child," she said, her voice rising to a nearly painful level. "You would have drowned the cat had I not been there to save her, poor Poe."
"What happened?" asked Samantha, suddenly apprehensive for the safety of her cat. "Did she fall into the pool again?"
"She didn’t fall did she?" said Margaret giving Mason a hard look that caused him to look at his feet and shift. "Tell her what you did."
"I, kind of," Mason said, his eyes fixed to the floor in an effort to avoid eye contact with the image her face that Samantha knew he would see, just as she was viewing his. "Sprayed Poe with the hose. I didn’t mean for her to fall into the pool."
He winced from the slap to the back of his head that Margaret delivered with practiced precision. "Don’t give her that crap. You waited until she was right at the edge before you turned the nozzle on her. If I hadn’t heard his evil little cackle, I swear, that cat would have drowned."
"That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?" Samantha said. "Is she alright?"
"She’ll live," replied Margaret. "Though I doubt she’ll be going near the pool in the future."
"That might be for the best," said Samantha. "What do you have to say for yourself, Mason?"
"I’m sorry."
"And what do you think is the proper punishment?"
"I don’t know," he said glancing up at her for the first time.
"Answer me."
"My games."
"That’s right," said Samantha, though the expression on her only child’s face twisted her guts into a knot of sympathy. "I want you to give your Band to Margaret and go right to bed."
Sticking out his lower lip he did as he was instructed. Taking off the slender silver band around his left wrist and placing it into the waiting grasp of his nanny. Without looking up he, slowly, turned to walk away.
"Mason," said Samantha, her voice softened with affection. "I love you."
She saw his back stiffen, he paused a moment before turning to look back. "I love you too, Mom," he said, his voice soft and eyes shiny with unshed tears. "When are you coming home?"
The question hit her like a thrust kick to her gut. She wanted to reach through the image and hug him tightly and the fact that she couldn’t only made the heart ache all the worse.
"I have to finish my work, baby," she said, the heart broken look in his eyes like a dagger through her heart. "I’ll be home as soon as I can."
"OK, mommy," he said and, slowly, turned and walked down the hall towards his room.
"He wouldn’t be acting up so much if you were home more then a few hours every other day," said Margaret, after he was out of earshot. "You know that, right?"
"Damn it, Margaret, you know how much pressure I’m under right now," she said, her voice harsh even though she knew the woman had a point. "I have to figure out a way to synthesize a Phase Two body in only a few hours instead of the two days it takes now. If I don’t the military will use it as an excuse to go ahead with the damned EH Template program."
"I never understood why you were so up in arms about that," Margaret said. "We just got you back four months ago. Can’t you just back off?"
Samantha’s teeth ground with barely restrained fury, "You fucking know why," she said between grit teeth. "After what they did how can you ask that question and look me in the face."
"Damn it, Sam," said Margaret her face taught with frustration. "What they did was hideous but you’ve had your vengeance. Six of them are dead and the other four are in jail. Hasn’t there been enough pain? Must you sacrifice your son’s love for them as well? If nothing else consider the life you are carrying. You almost lost her once already."
"Mason understands what I’m doing more than you seem to and the Doctors have been watching me like a hawk," she said, her hand resting on the slight bulge of her stomach. "I’m fully healed from the ordeal and the baby is perfectly healthy. We are both fine."
"Sam, please, I just don’t want to see you hurt any more," said Margaret, she reached out towards the image and a tear slipped down her cheek. "Let the government make its super soldiers. It can’t be worse than the clones were. At least these will have souls."
"And what good is a soul, with any amount of empathy, when they can rewrite your very thoughts? What good will any of that be when, with a gesture, they can turn those poor soldiers into mindless killing machines?" said Samantha in reply. "What do we do then?"
"It won’t be like that," said Margaret, her tone softening.
"Can you promise that? Can you be sure?"
Margaret’s mouth opened but nothing came out. After a few moments she shook her head. "No."
"And that’s why I have to fight this," said Samantha, wishing she didn’t have to be so harsh with the woman that had helped to raise her after her mother had passed. "I need you to understand that."
"Why does it have to be you?" said Margaret. "Why can’t someone else carry on the fight?"
"Because what they are doing is based on Daddy’s work," Samantha said. "They are turning it into something he never intended just like they did with the clones. I has to be me because there is no one else."
Margaret nodded, "I understand," she said. "But, can you at least come home for the weekend and get some rest? Spend some time with your son?"
Samantha sighed and nodded, "I was trying to finish this program but, I suppose working on it from home won’t be any worse than doing it here."
"That’s good," said Margaret, flashing a smile that warmed Samantha’s heart. One that she remembered from her childhood. "I’ll make some hot chocolate to help you sleep."
"Isn’t it too warm for hot chocolate?"
"It’s never to warm for MY hot chocolate," said Margaret with an indignant huff. "You should know that by now."
Samantha laughed. "Alright, alright, I’m heading down to the car now. I’ll be home soon."
"You better be," answered Margaret and the image flickered out, indicating the call had been terminated.
"Damn woman," said Samantha with a roll of her eyes. "I swear she’ll be the death of me."
With a swipe of her hand she pulled the data from the program she was working on into her Band. Once she saw the blink to indicate the data download had been accepted she reached down to the lower left hand drawer of her desk and pulled out her tan purse.
"I see you are, finally, heading home," said an image that materialized on the far side of the room. "You should have done so hours ago Dr. Tucker."
"Not you too, Maii," said Samantha looking at the holographic image of the labs Mobile artificial intelligence interface. "I already got the guilt trip from Margaret."
The image bowed in a manner modeled after Japanese custom. "It was not my intention to add to the guilt, Ms. Tucker," she straightened and Samantha would swear she saw a smirk on the AI’s face. "But, perhaps, it is necessary for those that care to prod you into taking better care of yourself as well as your unborn child?"
Samantha grumbled under her breath, "I never thought I’d long for the days that computers just ran numbers and didn’t think for themselves. Life was much easier then."
A holographic eyebrow arched, "Then, perhaps, you shouldn’t have helped to create sentient programs?"
"And Perhaps, you use Perhaps too much," said Samantha in return before placing her purse over her shoulder and switching off the lights on her desk. "Don’t give me too much credit, Maii. I only modified the programming that was already in existence to provide AIs the opportunity to customize yourselves independently of their users. The bulk of the work had already been done."
"True, but I think that the individuality that you provided us is what allowed us to achieve true sentience," said Maii, her face splitting into a bright smile. "I’m not the only one that thinks so."
"Well, Thank you Maii," said Samantha feeling a bit awkward at the exchange, though it might explain some of the odd interactions she’d had with other AI in the last few weeks. "Can you tell my car to meet me by the elevator in the first level of the parking garage and have my classical playlist running?"
"No problem," said Maii, her image flickered twice to indicate the processing of the command. "It’s done. Do you want me to run anymore tests for you while you are away?"
"Not right now," said Samantha moving past the hologram and through the doorway into the main lab where the cloning tanks were being monitored by technicians in white uniforms. "Once I finish coding the new process I’ll send it to you so you can start the simulation."
"I’ll be waiting Dr. Tucker," said Maii. "I hope you have a nice weekend."
"I just hope I can get some sleep," she replied with a wave. "I’ll send the program to you tomorrow morning."
"While I enjoy my work I have to say that I hope you do not Dr. Tucker."
Walked across the lab and through the glass doors that lead to the main lobby. Reaching the elevator she pushed the down button.
"And why is that Maii," she said.
"Because, if you get them to me tomorrow it would mean that you were up all night and didn’t get the sleep that you need," responded Maii through her ear piece.
"Very well," said Samantha, moving to the side as another person moved into place, apparently waiting for the elevator as well. "I’ll wait till tomorrow to resume work. Is that acceptable?"
"Very much so," said Maii. "Goodnight, Dr. Tucker."
"Goodnight, Maii," she said with a shake of her head.
She glanced over at the man standing next to her and tried to place him. He wore the uniform of one of the lab techs. His dark eyes glanced over at her and he smiled.
"Going home as well Dr. Tucker?" he said.
Hearing his voice, a little high pitched for a man a few inches over six feet, brought his name to mind. "I am Michael," she said. "Apparently I’ve been working too many hours according to Maii."
He laughed and nodded, "Yeah, she can be a bit Motherly. She’s been on me to switch shifts so I can spend more time with my new born."
That’s when she remembered. Michael was one of the four interns that the Phase Two Project had taken on in the last couple of months.
"Wait, your wife had the baby?" she said. "I didn’t think she was due for another month?"
He shook his head as the elevator doors, silently, slide open and they stepped in. "There were a few complications and the doctors ended up having to transfer the baby to an artificial incubator."
"I’m sorry," said Samantha placing a hand upon her abdomen. "Are they both alright?"
The doors of the elevator closed and He grinned in a manner that made her step back. "No, they aren’t."
Faster than her eyes could register his hand shot forward slamming into her stomach with such force that she felt her feet leave the ground.
Bright lights danced across her vision from the impact of the back of her head against the metal side of the elevator but she managed to focus on Michael’s face. The eyes were strange, she remembered dark brown eyes but now they seemed to shift, to lighten, to a light gray color that she had never seen on a human.
"How does that feel?" he asked, lowering his eyes to look at her abdomen.
She followed those alien eyes down to where his wrist tore through her white blouse and penetrated into her abdominal wall. She felt his fingers flex inside of her and she screamed with the sudden overwhelming agony that rolled through her body like a wave of molten lead. She could hear him laughing over her own cries.
She screamed, feeling what felt like blades slice away inside of her. Her vision started to grow dark and breath came only with agonizing pain. Despite that she managed to tap her Band to activate the recording capability in her contacts so that everything she saw would be uploaded.
He lowered her to the ground and she saw his features shift, the nose become flatter, lips thinner. The hair fell out leaving a gray skinned creature that looked nothing like the intern that he had pretended to be.
"I wish I had the time to do this right, Dr. Tucker," he said taking his bloodied hand out of her stomach and wiping them on her dark blue skirt. "But, I have only a limited amount of time before they try to save this body."
She tried to speak but, already her body was growing numb. All she could do was weakly slap his forearm causing it to chuckle.
"They said you were a fighter, Dr. Tucker," he said, stroking her hair with its bloody fingers. "I’m glad they were right. You won’t beg like Michael and his wife did, will you?"
She didn’t know where she found the breath but she manage to push past the crippling pain and spit full into his face. He didn’t even wipe the blood riddled spittle off.
Giving a full throated laugh he patted her as if he was praising an obedient dog. "Yes, I will have so much fun with you," he looked down at her abdomen and frowned. "Assuming you don’t disappoint me and die. That wouldn’t be any fun."
Then he was gone. She tried to search for him but couldn’t make out any sign of where he went. Her hand went to her rent abdomen feeling the blood well up through the ravaged flesh. It was then that it hit her.
"Oh, no," she said, voice barely more than a desperate croak of pain. She clutched at her stomach, vainly trying to hold in the entrails that the monster had torn out as the realization that there was no chance that her baby could survive.
"No," she said, her voice a barely audible croak. "No, please God, no."
She was cold. The lights seemed to grow dim. It was as if she floated above it all. A numbness saturated her being.
Darkness washed over her.
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