Gaby, Patrick, Scott, Jimmy Duran, and any others you don't recognize are mine.
Violet is... ?
Rated PG-13 : Harsh language; violence; sexual content.
Reviews are appreciated, please take a moment to leave one.
"Jen!" Wes exclaimed, more loudly this time. She just stared at him, her face betraying a mix of emotions, fearfulness, eagerness, confusion. The man reached for her arm again. She evaded him and took a step forward.
"Hello," she said. "My name's Violet."
"Jen..." Wes was across the room, grasping her arms. She flinched back. "Jen, oh, Jen, honey, I thought..." He moved to hug her. She pulled back, looking frightened.
"What are you doing?" she gasped. "Who's Jen?"
"What's wrong with you?" Confused, feeling the beginnings of panic, he let go.
"Well. This is unfortunate." The dry voice behind him made him turn. Standing in the doorway he had just come through were Patrick, Eric, Steve, and Jimmy; Patrick frowning, Eric, Steve, and Jimmy looking astonished. Wes looked at them, then back again at the man with Jen. He and Patrick were identical to each other.
"I see you've met my third brother, Scott. And Violet," Patrick went on, his voice completely calm.
"What the hell..." Eric started forward. He stopped in front of Violet, staring at her closely as she fell back a step. "Jen! It is you!"
"No, I'm Violet... I don't know what you're talking about..."
"They've done something to her!" Wes exclaimed. "Given her amnesia..."
"And what the hell is your story?" Eric demanded, staring at Scott. "Are you telling me there's three of you?"
"Identical triplets. Yes."
Eric turned back to Patrick. "How come you didn't mention him before?"
"I believe I told you I had called in my third brother. I didn't think it was important to mention that he's identical to myself and Norman."
Wes turned to face him, his voice rising. "And you also didn't think it was important to mention you've got Jen stashed away here?"
"That's not Jen Scotts. Her name is Violet."
"She is Jen! Just look at her!"
"As you can tell by looking at Scott and myself, an identical appearance does not necessarily mean an identical person." He sighed. "I suppose another explanation is in order."
"Yeah," Eric growled. "And it better be good."
"Violet is a clone."
"A clone?" Wes was on his feet, too agitated to sit in one of the comfortable-looking old armchairs in the library Patrick had led them into. He hardly noticed the beautiful old wood paneling, the built-in shelving crammed with books. All he could focus on was Jen -- Violet -- and what Patrick was telling them about her. "That's impossible! There's no proof a human's ever been cloned!"
"It can be done, using known technology. And my brother Norman was a genius, with his intelligence artificially enhanced. For him, it was easy."
"But -- but why? How? When?"
"If you'll be patient, I'll tell you." Patrick waited for him to nod. "I'm afraid I wasn't entirely truthful with you. Norman left us a note, in addition to the videotape. When he realized your fiancée was dying, he felt guilty, I suppose. Apparently he thought he could make amends this way. By using her cells to create a clone, before he died himself. When I arrived, I found her, along with the videotape and note."
"But -- no, it's not possible. This must be Jen." Wes took a few quick steps and stopped in front of her. He knelt to look into her face. "Jen, I know it's you. Don't you remember me?"
"I'm sorry. I was created only two months ago, just as Patrick said. I don't remember anything before that. I've never seen you before." Her face was compassionate, but held no trace of doubt.
He reached for her hands. "Jen, please, try to remember…"
"I can't remember something that didn't happen to me." She gently but firmly pulled her hands out of his grip.
"No! I know it's you! What have you done to her?" he shouted, grabbing her arms.
She shrank away, staring, wide-eyed. "Scott…" she whimpered.
"Mr. Collins, we all realize how you feel," Scott said, his voice level. "But you must see you're frightening her. She's still like a child, you must treat her gently."
Wes stared into her face for a few more moments, trying to see any spark of the Jen he loved, any hint of recognition, any sign to give him hope. He found none in the fearful brown eyes locked with his. With an effort, he let go, sat back, and stood up. Stiffly, he moved back to a chair and collapsed.
"Wes…" Eric said softly.
"I'm okay."
"I know something about cloning," Jimmy said, his voice hard. "You take an egg cell, implant genetic material from a cell of the original animal. It begins to develop, just like any other fertilized egg. If she's a clone, she should be a two month old fetus, not an adult woman."
"Admittedly, she's not an ordinary clone," Patrick answered. "My brother was a genius, remember? He had developed a way of accelerating development, resulting in an adult body in only a matter of days."
"And what about her mind?" Steve asked. "Child-like or not, she obviously didn't learn to walk and talk in only two months."
This time Scott responded, in a voice which was eerily identical to Patrick's. "Good question. He also had found a way of recording the human brain, and duplicating its pathways. That's what he used on his robots, to make them copies of himself, mentally, emotionally, as well as physically. He recorded the patterns of Jen's brain before she died, and implanted them into Violet. She has all of Jen's knowledge and abilities, but in terms of experience, she's still a child."
"What about her memories?"
"Her personal memories were lost, except for a few -- echoes, I suppose you could call them, occasional faint emotions or the feeling that something is familiar."
"I call it the ghost," Violet said. She scowled at Scott. "I wish you wouldn't talk about me like I'm not even here."
"I'm sorry, Violet," he said gravely. "But we're talking about things you may not understand."
"When I got here, she was already physically adult, and almost ready to be removed from the tank where she was -- well, grown," Patrick said. "As you can imagine, I was a bit overcome, suddenly facing my brother's death, his crimes, and now responsibility for the woman he had created. I called Scott, and he was good enough to come and help me. We've been taking care of her ever since."
"Why didn't you tell us about her in the beginning? Why hide her, if you're telling the truth?" Eric demanded.
"Cloning a human is illegal in this country."
"So what? You're not the ones who committed the crime."
"Look…" Scott sighed. "Can you imagine what would happen to Violet if this got out? She'd become a scientific curiosity. Poked and prodded… Almost certainly taken away from us. We didn't want that to happen. Please…" he leaned forward. "Don't tell anyone. Don't report it to the authorities. It's her only chance for a normal life."
Violet herself spoke up again. Wes closed his eyes for a moment against the stab of pain her voice -- Jen's voice -- caused. "Scott and Patrick have been wonderful to me. They're right. Please don't turn me in. I don't want to be treated like a freak."
Wes had been watching her, mostly, only half following the conversation. Now he spoke up suddenly. "Where is this note Norman left you?"
"We destroyed it."
"Why?"
"We didn't want to keep any evidence of Violet's origin."
"Yeah, right. Why should we believe you? You have no proof."
"True. A DNA test would be meaningless."
"I think we should take Violet to Bio-Lab. Maybe there's some other kind of testing we can do…"
"No!" Violet exclaimed, eyes wide and fearful. "I don't want to! Scott…"
Scott answered, his voice calm but intense. "Violet is an adult, at least physically, and mentally competent, even if she's somewhat immature. You have no legal way to compel her to go anywhere she doesn't want to go. Not without exposing her to the authorities, which would only result in hurting her."
"Damn it!" Wes was on his feet again, fists clenched.
"Wes, be cool." Eric was next to him. "There doesn't seem to be anything we can do for now. Let's go."
"Eric's right," Jimmy added from his other side. "We need to think before we do anything."
"No! We can't just leave her here!"
"They're right, sir," Steve said. "We can't take her if she doesn't want to go."
"Wes, come on," Eric said forcefully. "You're not thinking straight."
"Shit..." Wes glared at him, at Patrick and Scott, then glanced at Violet again. "Okay. Let's get out of here. But I'll be back."
She sat quietly, listening to the footsteps fade out of hearing. Her first encounter with other people. It had been exciting, but also frightening. For the first time, she realized how hard Scott and Patrick tried to protect her. If only they had been more honest with her, explained all the things they had said today, maybe she wouldn't have come out of her room. Now that these people knew about her, they might come back and take her away…
But something inside her wasn't afraid of that, it was afraid they wouldn't come back. Jen. She turned the name over in her mind. That was her name, the ghost's name. There was something about it… Suddenly she felt a longing to know more about her, the woman she was a copy of. And Wes... his face, the way he had looked at her, the way he had tried to hold her... Something about him, too; she wanted to see him again, and soon, even if he had frightened her.
Scott and Patrick were standing by the door, talking quietly. Distracted from her thoughts, she listened to them.
"Do you think they believed us?"
"No. Wes certainly didn't."
"I don't think they'll report us."
"Neither do I. But they'll keep after us. Keep trying to find the truth."
"Perhaps it's just as well. We couldn't keep her here forever. It's a prison for her. She wants out."
"It was never intended to be forever. Not if his -- our plans work out."
There was a brief silence. "This isn't right. None of it."
A pause before the answer came. "I know. But we must do it."
"I wish…"
"So do I." The voice was sharp, then softened as he went on. "But we were not given that choice."
Violet listened, uncomfortable. She hated it when they talked like this, about things she didn't understand, complicated things. The ghost inside her said it was important. But it didn't help her understand.
Wes paced nervously, looking over the people he had asked to meet with him in Alan Collins' large, dark office. They all sat quietly; Eric, Wes's father, and Daryl Gunn, head of Bio-Lab security. The other three men watched him. He had already given a quick summary of what they had found at the Ryder farmhouse, with Eric's occasional commentary, and now they were all waiting for him to continue.
"I didn't like just leaving her there." Wes shot an irritated glance at Eric.
"I don't see that we had a choice."
"Maybe we should go back. Insist. Bring her here, have Dr. Zaskin do some tests…"
"She won't want to go."
"What if they take her away? What if I never see her again?"
"I've already assigned a squad of Guardians to watch the house."
"I shouldn't have let you talk me into leaving her with them!"
Eric's voice rose with exasperation. "What did you want to do, drag her out kicking and screaming?"
"You don't even care, do you? If she was your girlfriend, would you have just left her?"
Eric's eyes flashed, his voice taking on the tightly controlled tone that meant he was deeply angry. "I guess if she was my girlfriend, I'd probably need someone to stop me from doing something stupid!" He glared as Wes bit back a hot response that he knew would be unfair. "You think I don't care about her? That I don't want her back, almost as much as you?"
"The best thing right now is to let them think we believe them, and keep digging," Gunn said, perhaps trying to defuse the situation. "I'll start some inquiries into the Ryder brothers. All three of them. See what kind of past they have."
"Any way we can tell for sure whether Violet is a clone or not?" Collins asked.
"I can ask Dr. Zaskin. I remember reading something about clones having abnormal chromosomes. But that might not mean anything, since this was a different kind of cloning process. And it won't do us any good if we can't get a DNA sample."
"Maybe we can talk to her again. Convince her to cooperate. See if she remembers anything."
"I'll do it," Wes said.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Eric said.
Wes turned on him, furious again. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Just that you're too close to this situation. You're out of control where Jen is concerned."
"God damn it…"
Collins' voice interrupted them, calm and quiet but with a core of iron that silenced them both. "That's enough. If you have nothing useful to say, I think this meeting is over."
"It'll take a while to investigate the Ryders," Gunn said. "I might have something preliminary in a couple of days."
"Understood. You know what to do. Wes, Eric, I'd like a word with both of you."
Wes sat down, feeling like a child expecting a scolding, and waited while Gunn left. His father stared coldly at them, Wes fidgeting and Eric staring at the floor expressionlessly.
"What the hell has been going on between you two?"
"Nothing, Dad."
"Don't tell me 'nothing'. Something's been wrong ever since Jen disappeared. At first I thought it was because of that, but now you two are at each other's throats. Wes, Eric… I want to know why."
"With all due respect, sir, it's personal. None of your business."
"Of course it's my business, Eric," Collins said, his voice surprisingly calm. "Anything that affects my son, and you, is my business."
Wes sent a quick glance at Eric, seeing him staring stonily. He faced his father himself, mildly surprised to see he didn't look angry. "Dad -- please. It -- it was my fault. When Norman had me drugged, I said some things."
"Like what?"
"Stuff about Eric... I'd rather not go into it. Look, just leave it alone. It won't affect our work."
The older man sighed. "It already has. Arguing in a meeting like this. When we have much more important things to worry about. I want it to stop. Wes, I want you to apologize for whatever you said."
"I have. Several times."
"And Eric, I can't believe you'd take something that happened when Wes was drugged so seriously. You need to be more understanding."
Eric got to his feet, eyes narrowing again, his voice tight and controlled. "Are you ordering me to be your son's friend, sir?" Wes stared at him and then at his father, alarmed as anger flashed over his face, relieved when it disappeared again, replaced by a trace of sadness.
"Of course not," Collins said mildly, but with a hard core in his voice. "As long as you do your job and work together, as a boss, I'm satisfied. But as a father, and as your friend, Eric, I can see you're both unhappy, and that makes me unhappy."
Wes took a deep breath. "You're right. I'm sorry. Sorry, Eric, I was upset and taking it out on you."
He got a quick, rather startled glance in response. "My fault too," Eric said after a moment. "I guess we're both a little stressed out." He paused, then raised his eyes to Wes's face again. "If you think you can handle talking to Jen -- Violet -- you're probably the logical one to do it."
"That's better." Collins hesitated. "You've been good friends for over two years. That's more important than whatever quarrel you had. If you don't want to tell me about it, fine. But work it out. I'm sure whatever it is isn't worth losing your friendship over."
Eric stood, his face cold again. "If we're done here, I should get back to work."
Wes saw his father sigh again before answering. "Of course. Go ahead."
Wes watched him leave, his back stiff and straight. He stood up himself.
"Wes. Son…"
"I'm fine, Dad. Don't worry. I've got a lot to do. See you tonight, at the house."
A pause, then, "All right." He could feel his father's concerned eyes on his back as he left.
TBC...