It was Thursday, dark and rainy outside. Tamara was walking laps on the helipad, unperturbed by the rain as it felt better than the usual oppressive humidity and direct sun. Technically she was supposed to be using this time to run or jog in order to stay in shape, but she figured she could do that a little nearer to the end of her scheduled hour.
Rounding the far curve, she noticed that a visitor had appeared in the enclosed control booth. He was wearing white, contrasting sharply with the other two dark uniformed men stationed inside. The tall newcomer waved at her in a manner clearly signaling for her to come inside. Inwardly slumping a bit, she shuffled to the door, figuring that her metaphorical "free time" was over. It had been two whole months since she had been released from daily lab visits and the change of pace had somewhat grown on her. She would kind of miss working in the kitchen, cranky co-workers and mocking soldiers aside.
Holding the door open, Dok greeted her with a curt nod, then handed her two brown paper towels.
"You're looking well, albeit you're nearly soaked. The Major and I need to speak with you right away."
Tamara's eyes widened in concern as she lowered the wet paper from her face. "Am I in trouble?"
"On the contrary. But let's not keep him waiting."
After stopping by her room for a change of clothes and a quick toweling off of her hair, she thought they would be returning to the Major's reception room. Instead they headed to the lab, where the old familiar antiseptic smells brought back memories of less than pleasant times, souring her mood further. Yet another reason why the kitchen had felt like such a respite. Aside from the food, it always smelled like fresh coffee and citrus-scented soaps.
The Major and his bodyguard were already inside, examining the lighted glass box that Dok maintained as his greenhouse.
"You know, I do believe that this is the first time that all of us are together," the Major said happily upon seeing them. "I wanted to have a little celebration, maybe some champagne, but Herr Doktor is not one for pomp and circumstance."
"Please do not mistake me as being displeased, Major."
"Wouldn't dream of it. I know you are thrilled, however well you may hide it behind your tinted lenses."
Tamara listened to the two of them prattle on for a while, then found herself exchanging an inquisitive look with the Captain. It was funny, she had always thought of him as being an old man, what with the white hair, but today she actually observed a younger face. He shrugged, then pointed for her to pay attention.
"…which brings us to our dear Frau. Wonderful and well done!" The Major wrapped one of her hands within both of his, and shook it heartily. His golden eyes, though smiling, reminded her of a snake's. She knew from experience that his outwardly good moods could be deceiving, and that he could torment her at any time if it struck his fancy.
"I'm afraid I don't…" she said, looking over helplessly at the doctor.
"Yes, Major, she doesn't…"
"Of course, of course. Let's all sit down and we'll take it from the top. I want to hear the whole story anyway, and we can fill in all the missing blanks as we go!"
As much as Tamara was anxious for answers, she bored rather quickly listening to the doctor talk. She didn't understand half of the technical terms he was using and he didn't have any slideshow or visuals to help her follow along.
She was sitting in her usual folding chair near Dok's computer station, while the Major had commandeered the fancier swivel chair. Captain preferred to stand behind them while the doctor paced and gesticulated in front of them all.
Sounding like a professor addressing a roomful of graduate students, he spoke of years of trials and failures, and kept mentioning a stone whose relevance she could make no sense of. At certain points he referred to the subject, which from the context she supposed was herself. It struck her then that she could not recall him ever actually using her real name in all their time together.
"The problem was two-sided. I could not keep the specimens alive long enough to clearly observe all the changes to their physiology, and also I did not have anything to use as a control, to measure against."
Major nodded approvingly throughout, although Tamara suspected he did this more out of courtesy than because he understood all the technical jargon.
"As you know," Dok continued, "cloning is a scientific field that is still in its infancy. I suspect that within a decade the world will unveil its first cloned mammal. However…" he looked proudly at Tamara, "I have now been successful in cloning a human."
"Wait a second," Tamara interjected as she finally heard something that she understood. "Are you saying that clones are a real thing?"
"That is exactly what I am saying. I took mature cells from you and created genetic copies with your eggs."
"You took what from me? How is that possible?"
"It is somewhat understandable that you do not know anything about in vitro fertilization. It has only come into the public's notice within the last few years. But yes, an unfertilized egg can be removed from a woman, joined together with sperm in a laboratory setting, and the resulting zygote returned to a woman's uterus, resulting in a normal pregnancy, if successful."
Tamara was confused and disturbed by what she was hearing. Her understanding of reproductive terms had been somewhat limited by her upbringing. She thought she knew the basics, of course, but this all sounded far beyond the birds and the bees.
"But that is not what I did. Instead, I removed the nucleus of your unfertilized eggs, then inserted mature adult cells that were taken from other areas of your anatomy. Thus I could create genetic duplicates, rather than new and unique individuals."
"In other words, Ms. Larson," the Major interjected, "clones of yourself."
"You…cloned me?" Tamara asked in a tremulous voice.
"Yes," the doctor said excitedly. "And once they are fully formed I will be able to use you as a control to measure any identifiable differences that resulted from their exposure to the stone."
"Where are they?" she asked, looking around, wondering where these other "Tamaras" were being kept hidden.
Dok chuckled. "Why, they are still just tiny clumps of frozen cells. Three of them, in fact. And as I have yet been unable to find an acceptable method of growing them in a synthetic environment…"
It seemed as if all eyes were on her.
"...you are going to carry a child for us."
"What? What are you saying?" Tamara suddenly felt cold all over and her hands started shaking. Her still damp hair was certainly not helping, only heightening the uncomfortable sensation.
"Now, don't be coy. I think you've known all along this was to be the result. Besides, you told me yourself that you wanted children."
Incredulous, she stammered, "When I'm thirty, maybe. Not right now, not like this!" She was out of her seat now, backing slowly away from the doctor.
The Captain made a move as if to follow her, but stopped at a raised hand from the Major.
Dok scoffed loudly. "A typical reaction from one of your generation. You are more fertile and ready now than you will ever be. You would risk miscarriage, birth defects, and all manner of complications in order to have a few extra years of child-free living, wouldn't you?" he spat accusingly.
Tamara couldn't believe what she was hearing. She wasn't in a position to really argue his point despite how unfair it was. The absurdity of what he was proposing aside, the doctor had never spoken to her like this before.
Her movements had brought her to the exam area, behind the examination bed, which she kept as a barrier between her and them. Feeling like a trapped animal, all she could seem to do was reply with venom.
"You're evil! All of you. I should never have agreed to help you monsters. Never!"
"Well, by your standards we may be evil, but technically you never really had a choice. Now are you going to do this quietly? You ARE going to do this." Dok began to frown.
Tamara might have thought she was dealing with her feelings since being kidnapped by Millennium. Not always in a good way, but she did find ways to cope, whether it was picking at a patch of dry skin on the sole of her foot or smuggling food to Roger or taking ridiculously long showers without any regard for wasting water. Hearing Dok's words, though, it was as if the dam of emotions both overflowed and broke at the same time.
The wheeled metal cart beside her was her first victim, toppled with all of its contents clattering and rolling every which way. She next grabbed the paper bed liner, which unrolled several meters as Captain grabbed her from behind by the arms before she could cause any more destruction. She stamped her feet savagely, more out of a raging anger than an attempt to escape the big man.
"This is going well, Herr Doktor," the Major said, loudly enough to be heard over the incoherent screams.
The doctor was biting his index finger now, fully regretting that his superior was here to witness this scene. He quickly considered the ways in which he might regain control of the situation but it turned out the Captain was much better equipped to solve the problem at the moment.
Letting go of one of her arms, the silent man reached into his pocket and withdrew something which he held between his gloved fingers. Restrained now by just the one arm, she repeatedly tried to yank her body away, most ineffectively.
"Let go of me! What are you – ouch! – what are you doing?"
He did fully let go of her arm then, which caused her to fall hard onto her backside from the momentum of trying to pull away. Instead of continuing to fight, however, she stared blinking at her left hand.
The hand that now wore her engagement ring from Roger. The diamond was small, but it had come with a promise for a larger one someday.
She looked up at the Captain, whose expression was unreadable despite the fact that he was clearly looking directly at her. Her eyes dropped down to where his hand was patting the side of his coat, in the place where a small sidearm was probably hidden underneath. The black and white image of the weapon outstretched in front of him was still as clear in her mind as the moment she had first seen it on the Major's television.
You have to decide now what you're willing to do. It will make things easier for you later.
The situation was horrible, these people were horrible, but she had already made up her mind to do whatever it took to keep Roger safe. Now his words were just the reminder she needed in a tense and confusing moment.
"I guess I hadn't thought this through," she said mechanically, her shoulders and head drooping in resignation. The Captain seemed to take that as his cue to offer her his hand, which she reluctantly took. He lifted her to her feet with only the slightest effort on his part.
Turning, she looked to the Major who was standing in rapt attention, a bemused smile on his face. "I'm sorry for my outburst," she said, voice and throat tight with emotion. "I didn't mean anything I said. Please forgive me."
"Of course, of course. Think nothing of it. What is that word – Doktor? – you know, when a woman gets all hot and upset?"
"Hormonal, Major?"
"Hysterical, yes, that's it! We won't hold that against you. It's refreshing to see young people so madly in love these days. As they say, 'There is no cure for love.'"
Ignoring this, she turned to the doctor and said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I will cooperate."
Dok seemed mollified by her compliance despite the mayhem she had caused and spoke gentler now.
"It's really nothing to worry about. And for this next part you only have to undress from the waist down."
An hour later, with his lab set in order again, Dok had everything ready to begin the implantation. He had opted to have his patient in knee crutches rather than stirrups as he intended that she would be holding the position for some time and it might be easier for her to relax in this way. She seemed much calmer now, although he did notice her twisting the ring around her finger incessantly as he positioned a drape over her raised legs and settled himself onto a wheeled stool between them. The Major had wished them much luck and exited with the Captain some time ago.
"Is there anything else I need to apologize for?"
"No, I think you covered it all. Several times over."
"Would you please walk me through what you're doing?" she asked, her voice raspy. "I know you went through it already, but I'd like to follow along if I could."
"Hmm? Oh, certainly."
He held up a metal device briefly for her inspection. "Same as before, we use the speculum – breathe out slowly – just like so. Good, now just take it easy."
Picking up a piece of cotton with a long and thin forceps, he continued.
"Then it's just a swab to collect any excess mucus."
Dok reached for the long and thin clear tube which he had sterilized earlier.
"Next is the catheter which will be sent through to your uterus." Without ultrasound guidance he would have to be extra careful with this step, but he was confident he could do so based on the measurements he had taken on previous ultrasounds. Slowly and carefully he blindly guided the tube inside of her.
"If you relax enough and don't clench then you shouldn't have too much cramping later. There's the opening and…it's inserted."
He sat up to observe her expression. "Hardest part over. No sharp pains?"
She exhaled a breath that she had been holding and shook her head.
"No," she added with a slight gasp.
"Just keep breathing. Now, the first solution is saline to clean and sterilize."
He opened the dark tinted bottle in question and began to load a syringe full of the thin, clear fluid.
"As you are now aware, I succeeded in creating three cloned embryos from you which means we can attempt this process three times. If that fails to get a result, we will start over from the beginning with…"
It was subtle, but he immediately knew something had changed in her posture and body language. He bolted out of his seat and came around the exam table to observe that her head had rolled to the side, her eyes now closed.
Passed out.