Author's Note:
Thanks again for those that read the last chapter, especially YellowAngela for commenting.
I do not own Generator Rex.
Trigger warning for this chapter: Death mention, brief nondescriptive violence.
The clone settled in soon enough. The strange world he'd opened his eyes to had become his home, one with mysteries, adventures and places to explore.
The clone lived on an island, and a tour of the building overlooking the water revealed many neat rooms and creatures. The building (what Van Kleiss called the Castle,) was at least five stories high, and used to be a college. In some rooms, there were still desks and chairs— but the most fascinating rooms of all were the library, the barracks, and the garden.
The library was more like a forest of shelves and books. The clone was acutely aware he could read, running his pale hand slowly over some book-spines.
Don Quixote. One spine told him.
Pride and Prejudice. The Bell Jar. Beloved. Crime and Punishment.
The clone felt absolutely stimulated as he turned odd symbols into abstract meaning.
Reading felt familiar to him— Kleiss told him he'd programmed the clone's brain to be filled with words and meanings. Except this was a different phenomenon. Reading meant the clone had to parse language all on his own, like some invisible voice was trying to start a conversation with him. He was curious about books— but didn't dare take one off a shelf.
Van Kleiss noticed his interest.
"This is the classic section," Kleiss told him, not a drop of disapproval in his voice at the clone's open curiosity. "That means that these books—" he gestured to the set of shelves before him. "Have stories in them that people across time have found important. One reader could grow old and die, but a classic story pays no mind. A book is picked up and read by the next generation as if time has no meaning to it. True time travelers, books are." And Van Kleiss's smiled, his dimples showing.
The clone smiled back. A warmth filled his chest at the man Kleiss's kind explanation. He looked at the books with renewed curiosity, but also a respect that kept his hands firmly at his sides.
Van Kleiss surprised him, though. "Would you like to open one?" He asked.
The clone blinked. He felt embarrassed at the visible want he had shown towards books, in front of a man who had given him so much already. Life seemed to be such a wonderful place, after all- a gift given.
But not wanting to pass up the generous offer, the clone nodded, small and slow. He tried to speak. "Y-y...ehs." He coughed, trying to dislodge the tightness in his throat. "...Yes."
Kleiss's smile brightened, dispelling any embarrassment the clone had felt.
"Learning to respond quite quickly, I see. Good, good. I have the perfect book recommendation." Kleiss said, swiping a pointing finger at the clone like they were two co-conspirators.
The clone nodded, his eyes watching.
Van Kleiss turned, started to leave, then his eyes went hazy like he was trying to remember something. "Let's see… it won't be in the shelves, I don't think. Where'd I put it?" Then his eyes brightened back up and he snapped his non-metal fingers. "I'll be back in a moment." He said.
The clone nodded at Kleiss, even though the man's retreating form couldn't see the action.
He read more spines while he waited. The smell of sweet, decaying wood pulp filled his nostrils. The library was three stories all told, the staircase to each level going down directly into the floor or up into the ceiling. He liked the way the stairs curved elegantly into the next floor, the metal railings polished silver and worn.
He stood on the second level, where empty tables populated a clearing in the shelves. A statue of a…
The clone blinked. He conjured up the word astronaut. A statue of an astronaut with a bulbous, glass helmet sat in the corner next to the library tables- the banner above the statue pronouncing in big letters:
NASA'S 100TH ANNIVERSARY!
And a display of space-related books sat exposed on a wide, open shelf.
The clone did not understand the shrine at all, but he knew the word space meant beyond Earth, his home, and that astronauts explored space. The shrine must be dedicated to the greatest astronaut of them all, a man named Nasa, who lived to be one hundred years old.
Soon, Van Kleiss returned. He held a worn book so small that it nearly disappeared inside his metal right-hand.
Kleiss offered the book to the clone, who took it gently, almost afraid to touch it.
The book was dog-eared, the pages yellow, the cover image nearly faded. The clone felt nervous holding such a thing in his book must've been passed down from generation to generation. A true classic, just as Kleiss had told him about.
The cover had a...girl-child on it. She had a serene face, and wild, orange-brown hair that was pulled into a ponytail. She draped her arms protectively over a pink pig, who starred off at a spider hanging on a thread.
Charlotte's Web. The title said, its letters caked in cobwebs.
"I know you were born an adult," Van Kleiss said. "But since you're not even a week old, I figured I'd start you off on something easy. I think you'll enjoy this book- it's for anyone. I like it. I used to read this all the time to…" He stopped.
The clone looked up at him.
"I think you'll enjoy this book," Kleiss repeated, scratching his temple. The clone couldn't decipher the troubled look on his face. "Its an adorable little tale." He smiled, trouble melting away. "I didn't much like the ending though."
The clone nodded. He felt curious and grateful at the same time, and wanted to hug Kleiss but knew better. "Th-th-th…" thank you he wanted to say. "Th-ang-ss." He felt his ears burn, aware Kleiss was watching him fail to say a simple word.
"I understand." Van Kiess nodded patiently. "You're welcome."
###
If the library was a lonely place for quiet contemplation, the barracks was its antichrist.
A sun-bleached stone courtyard led into the barracks.
The courtyard was surrounded by dormitories— brick buildings with windows— and also, a giant stone whale creature that had long-ago destroyed the western dormitory wing, leaving man-sized scraps of rubble in its wake. The stone whale now sat beached on top of the ruins as a building of its own.
It seemed like many of the residents lived inside the giant whale instead of the brick buildings. Creatures...EVOs of different sizes, different teeth, different number of eyes milled about its jaws, sat on its dead lips or worked on strange technology under the shade of its fins.
The whale's many eyes had been turned into windows, and its flat head was a landing pad for EVOs with wings. The clone could see beds and piles of straw inside the whale's outermost mouth, where quite a few EVOs must sleep.
Sounds of roars, of bleats, of teeth clattering and tentacles slithering could be heard. Not-quite humanoid creatures carried plates or mops or the like across the courtyard to other parts of the Castle like bees moving in and out of honeycombs. The smell of sweat and alien flesh mixed with salt carried on the wind from the ocean.
When the EVOs saw Kleiss and the clone, they all stood at attention like soldiers. Silence drifted down on the courtyard as if someone had snipped everyone's vocal cords.
Van Kleiss didn't need to raise his voice, nor did he bother giving a long speech. "Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to our newest addition to The Pack." He put his hand on the clone's shoulder. "You all know what he is already— so let's not bore over the details. Please make my clone feel at home." He smiled, wise and warm. "other than that, keep up the good work!"
The clone felt his face warm up as if the sun was lit inside his skin. He was painfully aware of the countless eyes on him.
With Kleiss's blessing though, the barracks went back to its loud hustle and bustle. Bows and nods were thrown their way.
"Clone." Van Kleiss said.
The clone looked up to show he was paying attention.
"These EVOs here are your family. We eat together, speak with each other, and live together despite our differences. You have to understand that this family is special. They will fight for you, live for you, and kill for you. We are here to bring peace to the world, and joy to all creatures. To all EVOs, like you and me—" he gestured to the courtyard. "And them. Our cause is one of compassion, but not without a cost. Kindness, family, and justice means you need to make sacrifices. Just as they will die for you, you need to be able to do the same for them. Remember this."
The clone nodded, his eyes gleaming. "Y-yes." He said, his tone serious.
Van Kleiss laughed, a marvelous sound. "I like your fire." He muttered.
The clone felt someone run a hand through his hair from behind.
Startled, he spun around to find a woman now standing face-to-face with him.
The humanoid— the EVO woman— was deathly pale, her skin the color of the bleached sandstone under their feet. Her black hair was so long that it nearly reached the floor. She wore a crisp white button-up tucked into a long, dark-blue skirt in which the hem reached just past her knees.
What was striking about the woman was her arms. Her arms were large, and her hands were larger, as if the god that made her put too much stuffing in them. Another, slender set of arms appeared out of the sides of her rib cage.
"So this is the new toy?" She asked, placing a large finger on his chest. Her face was long and mature, but mostly obscured by her hair. The one eye unobstructed by hair gleamed a deep, pupilless emerald.
The clone felt his heart begin to thunder in his chest.
Van Kleiss only seemed a bit annoyed. "Not your toy, Breach. This one's not for you."
"Oh… I wouldn't want him. His face is too boring." Her voice was light and had a certain sway to it, like it was a hollow gust of wind passing through tree branches. "But how shiny. Look at his eyes. I like his eyes."
The clone blinked. He felt his face begin to turn strawberry with heat. He held Charlotte's Web tightly in his metal hand, as if it would keep him anchored in a sea of nervousness.
"Did you see though— he's skinny. Like a pencil… How long will this toy last?" Breach picked up the clone's non-metal hand with her large one. The clone's eyes went wide.
There was something unsettling about her, something...different. Like she was in a league all of her own, she radiated power and intent.
"Leave him alone, please." Kleiss said, a warning flash in his voice.
"I'm not bothering him. Aren't I?" Breach's eye slid to the clone's face.
Heart still beating fast in his chest, the clone shook his head slowly. He stared at her eye, her strange form and the flashes of white, flat teeth in her mouth. A new feeling sparked in his chest, not quite fear, but close to it.
Suddenly, words were forming in his head and making their way onto his tongue.
"Y-y-you're…" the clone tried.
...Neither Breach nor Kleiss interrupted him, only stared at him with interest. They both seemed surprised that he was trying to speak at all, let alone to Breach.
"—Y-you a-re" his heartbeat became even louder. "B-be-oot-iff-hull." He tried again. "Y-you-re b-beautiful."
Breach's eye went wide, and the one eyebrow he could see shot up. Then she laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
The clone didn't quite understand her reaction to his compliment but had the feeling he should be embarrassed.
"Dear God." Kleiss said, rubbing his forehead irritably. A smirk crept onto his face, though.
"I changed my mind. I like him." Breach said through keels of laughter.
###
Last but not least, the garden. The garden lay underground, directly under the Castle. In order to get to it, Kleiss and the clone had to take a rickety elevator that smelled of old rainwater, down, down, down, down— until they were surely near the center of the Earth.
The garden's location confused the clone— shouldn't a garden be out in the open air, with the sun and bugs?
He didn't try to wrestle the question out of his mouth.
Still...the garden was a beautiful wide cavern.
The ceiling lights supplied fake sunlight to the plants, and wet, rich soil spread thickly underfoot. Cobblestone paths wound through the vegetables, the flowers, the fruit trees. It seemed there was every type of greenery magically growing around spare grey stalagmites.
And then there were the statues that stood in the flowerbeds.
They all looked like Van Kleiss— tall men with long hair, each left arm carved to look like bulky metal. Their faces were contorted in pain— mouths open in a still scream, eyes wide or shut tight.
The clone looked at Kleiss and waited for an explanation for the statues, for the garden.
Presently, he got none.
Van Kleiss was silent as they walked down a path shaded by tall leaves. The smell of pollen was sweet in the air here, and the only sound to be heard was the hum of electric lights above.
There was a large patch of daisies up ahead, growing in a secluded enclave between two willow trees.
Kleiss stopped in front of it. The clone did too.
Kleiss took his time before he spoke. He stood in front of the daisies, looking down. When he breathed, it was from the depths of his stomach, and when he finally talked, it was slow and heavy.
"I remember the first thing I had buried down here," Kleiss said.
The clone looked at him.
Kleiss looked old to him then, the lines on his face etched thickly, as if something had taken some of the life from his expression.
"My daughter was so small." Kleiss closed his eyes.
The clone's breathing went shallow. His eyes moved to the patch of daisies. The white buds stood frozen in time, with no breeze to sway them. A lump formed in his throat.
"She was too small." Van Kleiss said, now in a strange tone of voice. Like he was saying a cruel joke.
They stood in silence again. The clone wanted to say something— do something— anything to make Van Kleiss feel better. But he didn't know how, and then Kleiss broke the silence.
"I don't like to talk about my children. My heart has been broken too many times. See the statues?"
The clone didn't want to look at the statues. He'd already seen enough of their horrible faces. He nodded stiffly.
"Those are my clones. In a way, they are your brothers. I made them because without any of my children around...I need something. Desperately. To live. But." Kleiss turned slowly on his feet, his eyes moving over the garden like he was dressing everything in a shroud. "Each clone I make has been given a terrible sickness. The nanites inside their bodies are unstable, just as mine are. Unfortunately, they aren't as strong as I. I can handle unstable nanites...but my clones just can't. Because of that, they don't live for very long. Patches of their flesh slowly begin to turn to stone until they are completely swallowed, and I know you see the results."
A coldness swept over the clone's body. He felt his eyes begin to warm with tears. He felt like the stone eyes of the other clones were watching him, watching him with pure agony.
"This will happen to you one day. I'm sorry." Kleiss finished.
The clone stood as still as the motionless flowers, and as the statues. He began to shake.
When he thought about death—
The fear in the faces of his brothers—
The grief in Kleiss's voice, the tone that made him want to reach out and hug him—
The daisy patch—
He couldn't.
He began to cry.
Van Kleiss's voice was far away, calm in the storm. "I know that this hurts you, but do not be afraid. You will live a good life, I will be the one to see to it. I take care of all my children until the very end."
Tears were spilling down the clone's cheeks now, and his face felt red and blotchy. He sniffed. He held the sides of his head, trying not to let the monster of panic gobble him whole.
How could the man Kleiss deal with such a weighty reality without being crushed by it? How could he ever deserve the sheer amount of loss in his life?
What was death going to be like?
"Please don't cry, clone." Kleiss put a hand on the clone's shoulder, just as he had done when they toured the barracks only a short time ago. "I have ways to make you live longer, but it will hurt."
The clone looked up, a hopeful and scared feeling welling up inside. Life was so new, so wonderful, so full of interesting things. He couldn't imagine ceasing to exist. He just got here.
Kleiss gave him a reassuring smile. "It'll help me too. Every couple of days, I can take some of your unstable nanites so you can be...less sick. And with more nanites in me, I'll be more powerful. Doesn't that sound good?"
The clone nodded many times. He was so, so grateful to have someone like Kleiss around. Someone so strong and wise.
Kleiss cocked his head, staring at him. His red-brown eyes flashed. "It will hurt a lot. But remember what I told you about pain, clone." Kleiss held up his metal hand, and with a click long medical needles appeared from the tips of his fingers.
Suddenly, some of the trees around them became animated— their branches stretching and warping, becoming snakes that slithered down to the clone— wrapping around him— tying up his limbs—Charlotte's Web fell from the clone's hand to the soft grass—
The clone was tangled in a low tree now, unable to move. He yelped. He couldn't form the words to speak— to ask Kleiss why—
"Don't agonize over pain. It means you're alive. It tells you what's wrong with yourself."
The man Kleiss raised his hand, as if poised to strike the clone. He had a gleam in his eye, a soft frown on his face. "So...everything will be okay." He said gently.
Van Kleiss stabbed all of the needles into the clone's chest—
The— the clone felt— felt like he was on fire—
Fire—
and then—
—
.
—
.