"There's a lot we can do next time to improve our chances. The Major wanted to make an attempt right away, and I was unable to convince him to wait another month while I helped to prepare you physically."
Tamara wanted to be thrilled at the negative pregnancy test as she had zero desire to carry a science experiment in her body, but she knew it was only a delay at best. This was the sole reason she had been brought here, after all, and clearly more attempts would be forthcoming.
Plus, helping Millennium to create the world's first human clone was likely the only key to her freedom.
"What if..?" she started hesitantly.
"Speak up."
"What if I can't? What if there's something wrong with me?"
How many times will you try before you give up and discard me?
"There is nothing wrong with you," he said brusquely. "I have performed every possible test to satisfaction. Stop doubting my methods and findings."
Tamara's shoulders slumped at the harsh response. She hadn't intended to insult the doctor, only to air her fears.
Sitting across the desk from her, Dok typed furiously on his computer, his brow furrowed. Occasionally he glanced at her calendar book and counted under his breath, referencing it against his electronic spreadsheets.
"For your next menstrual cycle, be sure to note the start time along with the date, and let me know at our next meeting. Is your watch still functional?"
She looked at her left wrist and saw that the slender timepiece was still ticking. Her hand was perfectly smooth again from the doctor's supply of lotions and the diamond ring on her finger sparkled in the harsh lights of the lab. The image struck her as out of place and slightly surreal.
"Yes, it's working," Tamara said gloomily.
Dok stopped typing to look at her then. He sighed and his expression softened a bit.
"We will eventually succeed in this endeavor," he said encouragingly. "I did not make a mistake in choosing you."
His words and change in tone triggered something within her, and she asked the question that had long been on her mind.
"Why me? I mean, you could have picked anyone, right?"
He lowered his chin and for a moment she could see his eyes scrutinizing her from above the odd lenses. It was rare that she got a look at them. They were icy blue with gold flecks surrounding the pupils. Now that she thought of it, both the Major and the Captain had unusual eyes as well, and the three of them were only ever addressed by their titles. Such a strange organization Millennium was.
"Are you sure you want to get into this at the moment?"
"Yes," she said, pulling her focus back to her question. "I'd like to think I can handle it now."
"All right. Then follow me," he said, standing up after a final loud tap on the keyboard.
She followed him to one of his work stations, and watched as he opened an overhead cupboard and pulled out a few racks of glass slides.
"Sit down then."
She settled onto a simple metal stool he had gestured to. It was tall, so she put her feet up on the rungs so they wouldn't dangle uncomfortably. On the long counter in front of her were many clear vials, some filled with blood. More than a few probably contained hers, if she had to guess.
Several minutes passed as he began examining the slides under a microscope, one by one. She waited attentively, figuring that he was not purposefully ignoring her, but probably deciding how best to begin.
At length he spoke, his voice rising somewhat in pitch as if he were giving a prepared lecture.
"In an ideal world, such a feat as we are attempting would involve the use of multiple individuals."
He held up fingers with his free hand as he counted, beginning with the thumb.
"First, a female to provide the unfertilized eggs. Second, a male or female whose cells would be fused to the eggs in order to create the clone. And third, another female to carry the pregnancy to term."
She nodded her understanding as he continued.
"So far, the only successful results of in-vitro fertilization have been from the implantation of externally fertilized eggs into the original donor. I have no doubt that very soon the use of surrogates will become a popular method for infertile women to bear children. However, it was unnecessary to include such a person in our process."
He lowered his middle finger.
"As I have mentioned before, what we are doing here is decades ahead of the rest of the world. Though again I believe it is conceptually sound to create a clone from two donors, I wanted to start off as simply as possible."
Now he was down to holding up just the thumb.
"Therefore, it was concluded that all of these things could be handled by a single extraordinary individual. And considering that Millennium's resources are not limitless, our German sensibilities of efficiency also dominated the decision. Do you understand so far?"
Tamara thought quickly. "You could have used three people, but decided to use just one."
"Exactly."
She wanted to interrupt him here, as he bent over to look at the next slide, but decided to wait to ask her next question.
"A few volunteers were considered for this project but none I considered acceptable and we couldn't very well put an advertisement in the newspaper. At some point, it was decided that the person in question would have to be recruited in the greatest of secrecy."
Sitting on her hands to keep from fidgeting, she listened intently as he continued.
"You are correct in that I could have selected any female of childbearing age. But I had sincerely hoped to find someone with the ability to work cooperatively with me, rather than…"
He hesitated and leaned into the microscope again.
"Chained to a bed?"
Tamara regretted the words as soon as she said them. However, the doctor made no visible move as if her comment had affected him in any way.
"A crude way of putting it. And definitely not appealing with the timeframes we are working with. Which brings us to you."
Exhaling a large breath, she braced herself in anticipation of hearing something she would never be able to unhear.
"The Major insisted on two things. That I bring in a committed young couple in order to protect our investment and to encourage cooperation. This part I actually disagreed with, but in the end he had his way, of course. And the second was that she have blonde hair and reasonably attractive features." His gaze lifted briefly to Tamara's face, then back down.
Tamara felt heat rise into her cheeks.
"There was something else though, right? Something about our time at the café."
"Mmhm. I did profile you during our initial conversation, despite the fact that you said very little, as I recall. I could tell that you were an intelligent and adaptable person. I also wanted someone who had more or less lived a wholesome lifestyle. In general good health, of course. Owing to my instincts and these facts, that should be enough for you to understand the why. What matters now is that you are here and for a reason."
Here for a reason…
Roger had said something similar, but suddenly she hated those words.
"You said before that you needed an extraordinary person. Well, I am definitely not that."
"Just because you don't see qualities in yourself doesn't mean they aren't there."
"You can't say those nice things about me, not after what you..."
After what you've done to me. What you've taken from me.
"Well, you insisted on knowing my reasoning. I can offer only the truth, as per our agreement. If you do not like it, unfortunately that is your problem." He pressed a finger in the air towards her for emphasis.
"So you're not…sorry at all?"
Dok scratched at a spot on his cheek briefly, but did not look up to respond.
"I have no apologies to offer at this time, if that is what this line of questioning was all about."
Tamara's throat went tight, so she slid off the stool and started walking around the lab. The urge to cry and scream and break objects was strong, but she was determined not to cause another emotional scene in front of the doctor.
At last Tamara collapsed into the chair at the small, wooden desk where ate her lunches and often passed time in the lab. Unable to find an appropriate outlet for her feelings, she finally settled for cradling her head between her folded arms.
She stayed that way for a long time, her thoughts drifting wherever they would. It had taken all of her remaining courage to ask whether or not the doctor felt sorry for what he had done to her. Now that she knew the truth, she almost regretted having asked.
I just want to go home.
She meant nothing to Millennium. They really did see her as little more than a laboratory animal and Roger as merely the means to control her.
Suddenly Dok cleared his throat, and she looked up to see him standing right in front of her.
Sitting up reluctantly, she saw that he was holding a few pieces of lined paper and a freshly sharpened pencil, which he set down on the desk before her.
"This isn't strictly scientific, but I want to try something. Your next assignment is to write down everything that is upsetting you right now. Everything you can think of. Feel free to direct any negative thoughts at me, if you wish. I will not read anything and when you are finished, I will inform you of the next step."
Surprisingly to Tamara, it might have been the closest to an enjoyable task that he had ever given her. Like airing out smoke after a kitchen mishap, it made her feel like she could breathe a little more easily.
She wrote until her fingers cramped, but each time she massaged and flexed them until she could write some more. Tears fell onto the pages at times, but she ignored this and kept writing. Every margin she filled with her feelings, especially towards the doctor. She told him off in every possible way she could think of. She listed the names of loved ones that were no longer a part of her life because of him. She talked about her dreams, the ones she would never realize because of him: cross country road trips, improving her baking skills with her sisters, raising a family of her own. She accused him of the highest level of cruelty, especially towards Roger, and said that his plans for them were sick and twisted. She also found room to harp on the Major and call him fat.
And I'm so afraid all the time. ALL THE TIME. I'm afraid of dying, I'm afraid of pain. I hate being afraid all the time!
After two uninterrupted hours had passed, she carried the pages over to him. Wordlessly, he beckoned her over to where he had set up a gently flickering Bunsen burner on the counter. He handed her a glass cylinder and pantomimed for her to insert the paper. She folded the pages into quarters, stuffed them inside, then handed him back the jar. He placed it on a rack over the burner and turned a dial until the flame became a blue jet. Tamara watched interestedly as the paper ignited from the intense heat, turned to black flakes, and eventually was reduced to white ash.
It wasn't until she was in the stairwell heading back to her room that she noticed the change. She stopped and rested a hand on her chest. The weight wasn't as heavy as usual.
"Aare you oookay?" Heinrich had also stopped and was looking at her with concern.
"Yes, I think I'm feeling a little better actually. Danke."
Zorin Blitz gritted her sharpened teeth over the cigarette until it was nearly shredded. She didn't hate the once monthly game nights as they helped to break up the monotony of eternal life. However, they had become far less fun ever since the Major had started obsessing over his clone baby.
The silent Captain was joining them tonight, so their card game for the evening was Doppelkopf instead of the usual three-player Skat. Since it required the players to regularly call out bids in order to form teams and earn extra points, he had his own unique set of hand signals for this game. He was also quite good at it.
"Sadly, Dok informs me that the first pregnancy didn't take," the Major said without a hint that he found the news sad or even slightly discouraging. "However, he has high hopes that the next one will with some additional work."
There wasn't a maternal bone in Zorin's body and these kinds of conversations were positively excruciating. Even as an artificial vampire with a taste for human flesh, she couldn't imagine being hungry enough to eat a nasty, drooling baby. Besides, such an act was still generally frowned upon within Millennium organization.
"You should have seen the lab after the Frau tore through it, screaming like a banshee all the while. It was such a mess I thought I'd have to file an insurance claim." He chuckled with all mirth.
"Oh dear, and she is still roaming free after doing that?" Rip Van Winkle asked with a distressed air. It was clear that hearing the Major talk so much about the American filled her comrade with jealousy.
"Not to worry, Lieutenant," Major said, collecting the card trick. "She is generally quite docile, but you women have to release your raging hormones every once in a while. As I recall you have thrown your share of tantrums over the years," he jested lightly as he considered his hand.
"I'm sorry about your golf trophy. You just won't let that go!" Rip whined coquettishly. Clearly, she was happy to have turned the conversation to herself.
Zorin was also grateful for a change in topic. Anything at this point was an improvement, even the Lieutenant's childish attempts at flirting with the Major.
"Always on about getting the bitch pregnant," Zorin muttered under her breath.
Captain turned towards her, his eyes narrowed. Clearly he was the only one to have caught the remark as the others were still reminiscing animatedly about the infamous trophy incident.
"Heh, not that we're breeding dogs or anything." Zorin met his gaze easily, not intimidated by the big man in the slightest.
Captain stared at her for a few seconds, then tapped his left shoulder twice signaling that he was calling "Schwarz." It was a risky bid for this particular game, but apparently he felt confident enough that the teamed-up females would not win a single card trick in this round.
"Tch." Zorin rolled her eyes and smashed the damaged remains of her cigarette into an ash tray while Rip groaned pathetically.