Chapter 12 - The Memory I BuriedThe woman on the screen was me.
Fourteen years old.
Same eyes.
Same face.
But the expression terrified me.
She looked calm.
Too calm.
Behind her stood the original Glen, younger and uninjured.
He was holding a book.
My teenage self smiled at the camera.
“By the time they see this, I'll have forgotten.”
I stared.
My mother covered her mouth.
My father began to cry.
The recording continued.
“They think I'm Subject Seven.”
Teenage me shook her head.
“They're wrong.”
A pause.
“I designed Subject Seven.”
My knees weakened.
“What?”
Glen grabbed my arm.
I pushed him away.
The recording continued.
“The archive is not stored in the twins.”
My younger self leaned closer to the camera.
“It's in me.”
I couldn't breathe.
“I don't remember any of this.”
My mother whispered:
“You were forced to forget.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Then why am I remembering now?”
My mother looked at Ariel.
“Because the children triggered it.”
My daughter stepped closer to me.
“Mommy.”
My head suddenly throbbed.
Images flashed.
A hospital corridor.
A laboratory.
A crying infant.
A young Glen.
My mother shouting.
My father holding a gun.
Clara screaming.
Then something else.
A red door.
A locked room.
A woman on her knees.
I staggered backward.
Glen caught me.
“What's happening?”
“I remember.”
The words escaped me.
“I remember everything.”
My mother stepped forward.
“What do you see?”
I looked at her.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
“You killed someone.”
She began crying.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
My mother couldn't answer.
I turned toward Clara.
“You know.”
Clara nodded.
“Your mother killed the first director of Orion.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“Because he ordered your sister taken.”
“And then?”
“He chased your mother.”
“So you killed him?”
My mother nodded.
Then I remembered.
I remembered seeing him.
A man named Victor.
He had held my infant sister.
He told me:
“One day you'll thank me.”
I had screamed.
Then my mother had stabbed him.
The memory ended.
I collapsed.
Glen held me.
The artificial Glen watched silently.
The original Glen looked toward the ceiling.
“They're coming.”
Mara nodded.
“We need to move.”
But I looked at the archive.
“No.”
Everyone stopped.
“I want the truth.”
Mara frowned.
“We don't have time.”
“We've spent my entire life running.”
I walked toward the terminal.
“I’m done.”
I placed my hand on the scanner.
It recognized me immediately.
SUBJECT SEVEN CONFIRMED.
A second message appeared.
WELCOME, EVE.
My mother's face went white.
“Eve.”
I looked at her.
“That's not my name.”
She whispered:
“It was.”
The archive opened.
Thousands of files appeared.
One folder was marked:
PROJECT EVE
I opened it.
The first file contained a medical report.
Subject Eve demonstrates successful internal storage of encrypted memory structures.
The next contained a photograph.
Me at fourteen.
The next showed my mother.
The next showed my sister.
Then I saw a document with one sentence highlighted in red:
SUBJECT EVE MUST GIVE BIRTH TO SUBJECT EIGHT.
I couldn't breathe.
Ariel wasn't just my daughter.
She had been planned.
Her birth had been engineered.
Her memories had been designed.
Her existence was part of a project.
I looked at Glen.
“Did you know?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
The original Glen spoke.
“I did.”
I turned.
“You knew Ariel was part of it?”
“Yes.”
“And you let me marry him?”
He looked ashamed.
“I thought he could protect you.”
My voice cracked.
“You all used me.”
Silence.
Then Ariel walked toward the screen.
She placed her hand on the image of fourteen-year-old me.
“Mommy.”
“What?”
The child version of me on the monitor smiled.
A new message appeared beneath her photograph.
FINAL STAGE READY.
Then another:
SUBJECT EVE MUST CHOOSE WHICH DAUGHTER SURVIVES.
The chamber went silent.
I stared at my two girls.
Identical.
Terrified.
And suddenly the lights behind us turned red.
A voice announced:
“Five minutes until extraction.”
Mara looked at me.
“Extraction of what?”
May you like
I swallowed.
“My children.”
