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Here you'll find
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Mount Robillard
19. An OpeningRori shook his head, cheeks still burning after he'd spent a few minutes within hearing distance from Corinn and Vanya's usual morning banter. Those two were absolutely incredible! Both had a loud mouth, and it had only taken Corinn about two days to get over his initial embarrassment at Vanya's frequent and none-too-subtle references to their sexual compatibility and the ways it manifested itself. Since then any discussion involving both of them was invariably laced with heavy-handed innuendo.Rori knew from occasional experience that Corinn had a knack for double meanings that he usually kept rather well reined in, knowing that not everybody appreciated that kind of humor. But now, with Vanya in the base and wholeheartedly sharing the same mentality, the two men were gleefully engaged in a constant struggle to outwit each other. Sure they could behave themselves when necessary, for example when Fonzo and Shaun were nearby Fonzo who desperately tried to protect Shaun's innocence for a little longer. Rori wrinkled his nose in thought and tried to take a gulp from the mug he was carrying, managing to nearly burn his mouth and splatter one half of the dark brown liquid on himself. Not a good idea to walk and drink, then. He was still close enough to the canteen to hear a roar of laughter from inside, and the corners of his mouth drew up. The guys certainly knew how to keep others entertained, and not nearly all of their talk moved within the boxer region. Vanya had immediately made himself at home, and claimed to be really impressed and intrigued by the Robillard base and its occupants. Well, Vanya certainly had the hots for one particular occupant, Rori thought and then realized that he was, rather stupidly, standing in the middle of the corridor and chuckling at nothing. Determined to salvage the last of his dignity, the young medic resumed walking, cradling the still hot mug in one hand. He was sure that the noisy act was partly because the guys had taken themselves utterly by surprise. Something had just went click when they'd met, and now they were trying hard to understand what was going on. If it had been anybody else, Rori would've immediately filed them in the category of 'freshly in love'. But neither Corinn nor Vanya fit the bill of a romantic. All the horseplay and talk was their way of marking newly claimed territory and announcing to the world what had happened. And they sure made no secret about it... Rori felt his face heating again and firmly steered his mind elsewhere. Unfortunately his absent gaze locked on a familiar door. Seeing it unhinged his thoughts once more, and he sighed involuntarily. What was he going to do about the creature behind that door? Or, more precisely, what was he going to do about himself? Rori nearly skulked into his office where he sank into a chair and pushed his fingers into his hair. André was not the problem, although he liked to think so. But he wasn't even fooling himself anymore. True, André still needed a lot of support, but they had jointly decided to forget about medication. It had been a good decision: when chemicals were no more messing up his extraordinary brain, André was finding it much easier to put his mind powers into full use just to get himself sorted out. They had talked endlessly, tapping his memories, coaxing them forth from the hidden layers of his brain, and then rearranging them into manageable portions. He had reconciled himself to being a clone, a creation, a genetically engineered being, and accepted it as a fact. He was also determined to be a person, albeit a person intentionally made by someone else. But since there was nothing anybody could do about it, André had decided to accept it. After all, if he wasn't going to be André, then who? He had nothing else. The only real life he knew, or had ever had, were these months he had spent as André Lemotte. Besides, there wasn't anybody whose life he'd be stealing by remaining André. So no problem there, either. André was getting his act together. He was able to deal with the disjointed memories that kept surfacing, astonishingly well in fact. He was still reluctant to go out of his room and face the rest of the base, too occupied with his own thoughts, but had already hinted at the possibility that he might step out of his reclusion one of these days. No, André wasn't the problem here. He was. He, Rori Levin, was falling for André. The T-clone. Adorable André, designed by the Union to be more physically attractive than any young man had the right to be. André, who had confessed that he had found Maurice very charming, and had speculated even before the same thing had occurred to Rori that it was probably something the Union had implanted in him. Maybe the plan had involved getting Maurice fall for his charms, in the hopes of making his spying job all the more effective? Gorgeous André who, apart from the coloring, just happened to look quite a lot like Rori's first love, years ago, before the string of girlfriends impressed by the good-looking, talented medical student. This was unethical, not right, against everything he knew to be good and proper. True, he had made friends with André. But he was also a doctor. And doctors were not supposed to fall in love with people they were helping, or act upon their feelings if they did nevertheless. But here he was, heart beating madly every time he cast eyes on the said young man. Hoping that André would again want to talk until late at night and then timidly ask if Rori could please stay with him. Feeling insanely happy just to lie down on the same bed and listen to the peaceful breathing. Having this absolutely stupid, unprofessional, unfouded desire to hold André tight and say that he'd protect his blond treasure from anything and everything... And right now realizing that he'd somehow come to stand a few meters from André's door. Rori wished he had a gallon of icy water at hand so that he could pour it upon himself. On the other hand, he still hadn't seen André that morning, well, technically it was almost noon already. Quickly, before his sensible self had time to react, Rori took the last few steps and raised his hand. As soon as his fingers touched the call button beside the door, he experienced a strangest feeling. Like a tiny spell of dizziness, a warmth that quickly washed over him. Disoriented, he automatically pressed the opening contact and stepped in without a second thought. Only then did it occur to him that he had acted very impolitely, not giving the room's occupant any time to let him know if he was welcome or not. Well, too late now. "Hi Rori," André said. He was lying on his back on the bed, one arm flung over his eyes, hair flowing over the edge and gently sweeping the floor like a waterfall of liquid gold. "Hello André," Rori replied and shook his head slightly to expel the feeling. "Sorry I couldn't join you for breakfast, we had " "A meeting with the other doctors, that's OK." André's sensuous mouth was relaxed, smooth. "No need to apologize for that. But I'm glad you're here now, I was hoping to see you." "For something special? Is " "Nothing's wrong with me," André assured and made to sit up. Rori inhaled sharply as the warmth returned, stronger than before, and flopped bonelessly into the nearest chair closing his eyes. "Are you all right?" André's voice was laced with worry, he bent closer to peer at Rori from beneath the glittering curtain that threatened to flow over his shoulder any moment. The warmth turned into cooler tingling and Rori wiped his forehead. "I don't know," he said truthfully. It came out much weaker than he had intended. "I just suddenly started feeling very strange, just as I was coming here." "Oh!" André pulled away to sit bolt upright on the bed, and Rori blinked as his head suddenly cleared. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to..." "What?" Rori stared at him, uncomprehending. André looked guilty, the fingers of one hand twisting and playing with the long strands like they always did when he was feeling uneasy. "Hey, it's not your fault if I " "I shouldn't have," André whispered. "I just... realized somebody's coming, and wanted to make sure it's you. I didn't mean to make you feel bad." "Are you saying," Rori said slowly as realization began to dawn, "are you saying that you somehow did that to me? What were you doing?" "I was just going to check if it's you," André insisted, shame-faced. "I guess I'm a bit out of practice. Or then you're just very sensitive. You shouldn't have felt a thing." Rori rubbed his temples. No, nothing wrong with his head anymore, except for a tiny residual feeling of something. He remembered how he'd once, as a boy, scraped his bare leg against a rock and nearly peeled the skin raw, but only nearly. The only visible signs of the little accident had been a few tiny scratches but the leg had been hypersensitive to touch for a day or two, with the slightest movement, even a puff of air, almost hurting a little. And now he felt the same, only this was in his mind. His eyes narrowed. "What exactly did you do, André?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too eager. André looked at him uncertainly. "Just touched a little. To see if it's you." André sighed. "Either I'm really out of practice, or then my abilities are affected because I'm not... well, just a T." "What do you mean, just a T?" "Remember what I've told you about the white room?" Only a slight tremor in his voice at the last words now betrayed how he still felt about the place that had given him numerous nightmares. "I now have a name for it. It's called 'priming', the thing done to us before we're sent on a mission. I remembered it last night, or rather this morning when I woke up." "Did you dream of it again?" Rori asked quickly and felt enormous relief when André shook his head. "No. I mean, not a nightmare. Don't worry," the young man smiled warmly, "in that case I would have called you no matter what the hour! No, I just woke up and knew the word and what it meant. Priming." He said it slowly, as if trying it out and feeling the taste unpleasant. His voice dropped. "That is what happens in the white room. And after the mission we are wiped..." Like some goddamn piece of media used for holding data. Rori tasted bile in his throat. André took a couple of deep breaths and shuddered a little, then his eyes focused again. He smiled to Rori. "So, I have been primed and sent out but never wiped after that. I guess that's making me clumsy with my telepathy, because I have a distinct feeling that we could indeed do it without our guardians noticing a thing, even though they're specially trained and everything." "Can you really read thoughts?" Rori asked breathlessly. "Naah... not really. Or, if you mean to ask if I can see everything in your head, no I can't." André smiled coyly. "At least I'd have to try really hard, and most probably you would know very well that something's happening. And then you'd be so confused that all I'd find out would be a useless jumble. Although I did manage to read from you that you'd been in a meeting this morning." Rori couldn't do anything but stare at him. "Between ourselves it was of course very different," André said softly, musingly. "I think that I dreamed about being a T last night. That's why I remember now. Do you think that I remember so many things because I'm trying to? Because I'm aware that I'm a clone? I think so... I must have dreamed about it." "What was it like?" Rori was fascinated, and more than a little upset. But he just had to hear as much as André was able to tell. "Oh, we were very naughty kids." André smirked playfully. "We were well aware that our guardians couldn't do, or even detect, half of the things we did. Mind-talking with each other was strictly forbidden, so of course we did it as much as we could. Especially after curfew... and trying to read the guardians' thoughts was another no-no." Rori suddenly had a vision. A roomful of golden-haired boys leaping into their beds and pulling blankets up to their chins, grinning wildly to each other, the air around them practically vibrating with unspoken communication. Like being caught in a radio storm. He shook his head, baffled, and André shot him a worried glance. "Sorry... was I too rough?" "Did you somehow put that into my head?" Rori's breath hitched in his throat. "Yes... I sent it to you. So you did see something?" Rori nodded and André looked delighted. "You really are special! Is it because you're a mentalist, or what?" "I wouldn't know." Rori shrugged, then frowned a little as he thought he felt a very tiny touch, somewhere around the edges of his consciousness. Like a whisper echoing from afar, a spider's web fluttering in a breeze. "Did you do something again?" André nodded, obviously satisfied with himself. "There. You hardly felt it now, did you? If you hadn't been on your guard, you wouldn't have noticed a thing, would you?" "Probably not," Rori confessed. "Especially if I'd been doing something else. Did you manage to read something from me?" "Only that you're very puzzled and intrigued," André said, pouting a little. "It's so damn hard to find out anything for real, you know, when it has to be so stealthy!" "If it's so much more easy between you and other T-clones, do you think you could communicate with them even now?" Rori asked suddenly. André's eyes widened and he opened his mouth but no words came out. "I don't know," he said at last. "I've wondered it too, but haven't dared..." "Would you like to try?" Rori knew he had no real idea of what he was suggesting. But he wanted to know. "Does distance matter? Is there anything I could do to help, in case you sometimes want to do it?" "I'm not sure. And I'm afraid of what I might find out. But yes," André whispered hotly, "I would want to know!" His blue eyes were large and luminous, fearful yet eager. "Hold me, please." Rori followed his lead and they both lay down on the bed. The blond head pressed gently on Rori's shoulder and André closed his eyes. Rori watched anxiously as the smooth face relaxed, and fought valiantly against the enormous desire to kiss those curving lips. André's breathing slowed down, for a while he looked like he was nearly asleep and then his lips moved. "I'll try now..." Rori held his breath. A slight frown crept on André's face and his mouth tightened. Seconds ticked by. Finally his eyes opened into bright slits and he shook his head slightly. "Must be on a mission," he mumbled sounding displeased. "I felt him, I know it was him and yet not... there was something totally foreign, too. Very hazy. I mustn't prod too much, if he's been primed I don't know what damage I might cause." Rori couldn't say anything, only watch in awe. André sighed and closed his eyes again. "All right, now I know this is not impossible... by the way, did I take long?" "No hardly a full minute, that's my estimate. Why do you ask?" "Good," André grinned a little. "I just wanted to know if I'm totally lost to the passage of time or not, when doing this. Seems then that I'm not." He dove in again. At first nothing seemed to happen, then he grabbed a bruising hold of Rori and shuddered. "Terminated. He must've been terminated..." André sobbed and trembled again. "The void... the emptiness... the coldness. Nothing. Blank. Void." Rori held him close and shushed him until he fell quiet again. "André," the doctor said carefully, savoring the way golden hairs tickled his lips, "maybe you'd better do something else now. We can " "No, please Rori, I want to find somebody!" André gave him an imploring blue look. "I must find someone who's still... who's still there, you understand?" Rori nodded and braced himself for another surprise. He was deeply apprehensive, even though he didn't know exactly what he was afraid of. Could André be somehow sucked in? Go catatonic? Lose himself? He tried to swallow the cold fear pulsating inside him. That wasn't going to help in any way, that he was sure of. Rori peered into André's face that was twitching minutely. Suddenly cerulean eyes flew wide open, irises so dilated they were nearly black, and André's whole body convulsed. "André! Come back!" Rori shook the clone none too gently but got no reaction. Swiftly he rolled around and straddled the man, using his own weight to pin him to the mattress and keep him from throwing them both on the floor. André didn't fight back, his body arched up and then collapsed, totally limp. For a few seconds Rori just stayed where he was, tensely watching André who was gasping for air, until he realized that André was looking, really looking back at him. "What happened?" he asked gently. "Something's gone terribly wrong." André's voice was hollow. "Such a chaos. Broken, he's totally broken, his mind's gone and he's so lost..." "So you found someone?" Rori kept his eyes steadily locked with André's as he carefully rose from his position. There was absolutely no need for him to keep sitting on the clone's hips anymore, not even just in case. Tears welled up again and the blond head nodded dejectedly. "Yes. TC-019... I hope they terminate him soon. Nothing, there's nothing left of him." Rori swallowed but didn't comment, deciding that André was probably the better expert on how much a T-clone could suffer when his mind was irrevocably shattered. "That's enough for today," he said decisively and tightened his arms around the young man when he felt André shaking his head. "You have to rest." "No!" André pulled away enough to catch Rori's gaze. "Don't you understand? I can't let it be now. I have to find someone!" Rori frowned and saw a desperate flash in André's eyes. "If you won't help me, I'll do it on my own," the clone said ominously. "I won't stop now, not before I've found someone I know." Rori heaved a deep sigh of defeat. "All right. That's called blackmail, by the way. But don't you think we could have a little pause now? I simply refuse to believe that you'd be completely unaffected by this all. It's nearly lunchtime, see? I could get us something to eat, you could have a rest, and after that I promise I'll be here for you if you want to try again. Okay?" "All right." André rolled on his stomach on the bed and rested his chin on crossed arms, looking absolutely delectable. Rori swallowed and got up a little too quickly. "I'll see what the canteen has to offer today." If he had hoped to distract himself from the marvel that was André, or the marvel himself from the mind-boggling task ahead, both hopes were soon crushed. André loved eating deep-fried or otherwise nicely dry and chunky food that he could eat with bare hands, picking up slices, dipping them into sauce and then licking his slender fingers clean. Rori had to concentrate very hard on his own meal in order not to just sit and gape, and succeeded tolerably. After the last pieces had disappeared from the tray, André merely cocked his head questioningly. "Shall we go on?" he asked, and Rori had to accept that his feeble ploy hadn't worked at all. He nodded grudgingly and pulled his chair closer to the bed. André folded his long legs under himself, Indian-style, and his lids closed slowly. Rori was afraid, damn afraid, there was no use denying it. He took in every minute change on the expressive face, the tiniest fluttering of long lashes, the light movement of lips, trying to gauge if everything was all right, and was so prepared for impending disaster that he nearly jumped when André broke into a brilliant smile. The clone bent forward to lean on his hands, shoulders hunched, whole face distant but delighted. His half open eyes were looking somewhere through the walls and mountains, or perhaps they looked inside himself, Rori couldn't tell, but he was sure that André was connected with somebody of his own kind. Where was the other clone; in the Plains Base perhaps? That was already distance enough. Or was he on the other side of the planet... or even on some other planet, maybe light years away? Was that even remotely possible? Rori felt dizzy even thinking about it. Near or far, how did this happen? What was this level of consciousness that André had reached? Was it one-to-one, or Rori had to grab the armrests of his chair when the enormity of the thought threatened to swallow him was it some kind of a collective thing? Whatever it was, all of a sudden he felt absolutely sure of one thing: whatever the Union had been after when engineering these creatures, they had no idea of what they had managed to produce. The Union may have wanted something, maybe even got it, but also a few truckloads of things they hadn't bargained for. And maybe even now they still didn't know exactly what their oh-so-perfect angels were capable of. Naughty kids indeed! So their keepers, guardians, whatever their name, had actively discouraged their charges from mind-speak? What bullshit, Rori thought. If you create a person with the capacity of reading things from people's minds, at some point the person will want to try if he can also send things out. Put two such persons together, especially if they're children, and there's no end to their imagination. Then add to the soup a few more of these enhanced humans. Sprinkle in some guardians, people without anything even close to the same powers. Stir, by telling the guardians to keep the kids under some semblance of control, and you're bound to have a bunch of very unruly kids. Kids eager to explore their abilities, absolute secrecy of course being an essential part of the fun. Kids who soon know a hundred ways of pulling your leg while you never notice a single thing. André's eyes opened more, then their corners wrinkled in a smile. "TC-027," he breathed. "I found him, and he's all right!" "Where is he? On Jainah?" "No... on Jehan." Rori nodded, dumbfounded. In the same solar system as Jainah, Jehan was slightly bigger and somewhat cooler, orbiting the twin suns at a greater distance. It wasn't nearly as pleasant or populous as its smaller sister planet, but its impressive mining industry and the associated wealth made it an attractive place nevertheless. Okay, it wasn't exactly light years away, but that was wholly beside the point. The main thing was that André was communicating with another of his kin. No, Rori decided, he was certain that the Union didn't have a clue of their angels' true powers.
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