The Unoriginals

“Number eight. That is my identity. It was Susan... my father... or at least the man I knew as my father, called me Susie, but on paper I am number eight out of twelve. I am not an original nor am I the original of the unoriginals. I am a replica. Doctor Elaina Brooks, 72 Warwick Avenue, Moab, Utah, the woman I am on my way to see.” I handed him a photo. “She is not a copy. She is who I am, or rather I am her. There is no difference between us, aside from age I suppose. I hadn't thought about that before but she is twenty seven years older than me... than all of us.” We passed a large sign covered in blue skies, and dusty orange land, the Delicate Arch sitting gracefully behind white lettering. Welcome To Utah: Life Elevated.

“You would think Utah was the aftermath of a Cheetoh's factory explosion.” I glanced at the man next to me as his deep voice pierced his otherwise perpetual silence. He smirked.

“So you are talking to me now?” I glanced at him. His eyes were hidden by two dark lenses. He was disheveled. His medium shaggy brown hair was normally slicked back but at that moment it was windblown. His dark suit had spots of dirt and a leaf was stuck behind his collar. His right wrist was hanging from the ceiling handle. It had red indents from the handcuffs I put him in. I hadn't made finding me easy.

“I never wasn't talking to you.” He had a cool demeanor.

“How do you explain the silence then?” he puzzled me.

“I was listening.” His sentences were short but not hostile.

“Oh.” He studied the picture that I had handed him. It was a picture I had been studying for the past six months. Dr. Elaina Brooks was 5”6; I didn't have to guess her height because it was the same as mine. Her hair was a deep brownie batter color and her eyes were hazel swirls.

“It must be strange having a picture of yourself that isn't really yourself.” The man glanced up.

“To an ordinary person I am the definition of strange, agent... I’m sorry you're name slipped my mind.”

“Agent Daniel Rivers.” He handed my photo back to me. I stuffed it back into my jeans pocket.

“Well, I am sorry I knocked you unconscious earlier, Agent Rivers. I haven't known who to trust since I met number four a year ago.”

“Do you know how many of you there are?” His voice leaped excitedly.

“So far I know of twelve but only the research team knows the total number. I have been looking for them for so long and I finally have a lead on where they are right now. Have you met any others?”

“I have been searching for two years. I followed one of you in New York once, but she disappeared. You are the first that I have had the pleasure, or rather pain, of meeting.” He was clever. Number one was in New York.

“She was taken away by the research facility. They have tried to come after others of us too. I suppose it is because we all know now.”

“Will you tell me more about the Clone Project?” A shiver ran cold down my spine. That word is surreal.

“I don't know why they are doing it. I don't know what we are being used for. I have been trying to find the operation since number four found me. She and number one had met each other by accident and they were approached by many people after that, some trying to help and some looking to destroy them. I don't have all the answers yet, but it is clear that we were never supposed to have any.”

The GPS showed the destination close by. We were both silent until I pulled into the driveway of Doctor Brooks’ alleged residence. My lungs filled tightly with air.

“So close.” I let the words escape lightly upon my breath as I exhaled.

I opened the car door. Agent Rives raised his voice to let me know he wanted to come.

“Hey, it might not be safe. Let me help you.” I looked back at his distraught appearance. He was struggling with the handcuffs, trying to break the chain.

“I'm sorry... I can't. I have to do this alone.”

I approached the door and rapped the silver knocker gently on the white painted wood.

The door opened to what seemed like a mirror but as I studied the features of the woman, I could tell that she was slightly older than myself. Her hair was more faded than mine and her skin had more creases. Her eyes looked like they held many secrets that I had yet to know.

“Susan, please come in. I have been expecting you.” Her familiar voice sounded warm and inviting.

I cautiously entered the threshold. The house was uncomfortably clean. Everything was white and silver. It didn't feel like a home but it was remarkably beautiful. She led me to the living room. Its ceiling was high and had a chandelier made up of tiny crystal orbs. In the center of the room was a snow colored love seat and behind that a white trimmed fireplace.

“Sit, please.” She ushered me to the couch. I reached into my jacket pocket to check for my semi automatic. She sat in the armchair across from me. A shiny silver tea set sat in the middle of the glass coffee table. She gestured towards it. “Would you like some tea? I am sure you must be parched from driving through that desert out there.” She smiled and poured a glass as I nodded. “I am sure you have many questions and I would be pleased to answer them. I know you went through a great deal to find me.” Her voice was soothing. I took a sip of tea. Its aroma overwhelmed me and it tasted like smooth Jasmine.

“Please, I want to know why I am here. Why did you create us? What is the Clone Project?”

“The clone project was started in 1985 by myself and a group of other curious young specialists. It has been ongoing since then. You see, Susan, clones allow us to experiment and advance the human race.”

The name Susan sounded so strange to me now. “I am not Susan, call me number eight. It’s the only thing I really know about who I am.” My voice sounded shrill. A smile faintly crossed her face.

“Of course. You see, number eight, you are part of the first couple generations of clones. We used my DNA to create two hundred of you over the last two decades. This research allows us to do new medical research. We can save lives with new organs, we can test vaccines and medicines without harming civilians or animals, we can create armies of the perfect soldier, we can invent a way to be immortal by learning to age back DNA and then there is the group that you are in... more tea?”

I looked down at my empty cup. “Yes,” I whispered. She took the cup. I felt uneasy. Her hands shook the kettle spilling some onto the table. She handed it to me and grinned.

“I am so clumsy sometimes,” she laughed. “Anyways, you see you are part of our real life assessment group. A group of psychologists took interest in our program 22 years ago and decided that they would like to put to test the nurture vs. nature theory. So unlike your test subject brethren, you were put into a regulated environment along with twelve other girls.”

“What you're doing is wrong.” My blood felt hot and my vision started to sway. “You can't treat people like lab animals.”

“Really you are being irrational. You have been free to have a life.”

“What about the others? Those other 188 people. They may be copies of you but as far as they know they are people who just look like you.” I clutched at the gun again. I felt nauseous and my head started to sway.

“Unfortunately, the experiment must be terminated as you are no longer unbiased subject material.”

I blinked my eyes; they felt like they were rolling back into my brain. “What... What did you give me?” The room started to blur and I saw two dark figures approach me, their hands reaching towards me. I fell to the floor.

“When you are done with her, take care of the man in the car.” Her voice bounced around my head like a pinball. I heard a loud crash, and yelling, a gunshot, and I thought that I recognized Agent Rivers’ voice. I blinked but I couldn't see anything. Everything went black.