"Didn't I tell you to keep breathing?" Dok sighed wearily at the sight of his fainted patient.
Perhaps it was better this way, he reasoned within himself. As long as she wasn't in respiratory distress or showing signs of a stroke, he would just keep working unhindered. By the time she woke up he'd probably be finished.
He completed the procedure methodically and in silence. It was a rather simple task at this point, although an exceedingly important step in the experiment.
After the solution containing the specimen was injected, he removed the flexible tube, then flushed it out with more clear solution into a glass petri dish. Examining the liquid under a microscope he had preemptively stationed nearby, he confirmed that the lone embryo had successfully made the journey.
"Well, I've done my part. Now it's up to you two," he said aloud, standing up to pull the drape down to cover her exposed legs.
He crossed his arms and considered the limp form thoughtfully. Today had proven beyond a doubt that he could not continue as he had been. Recalling the chaotic scene where she'd panicked and tried to wreak havoc in his lab, he knew it was definitely time for a change of tactics. Perhaps such dramatics amused the Major, but they certainly did not fill him with confidence. Things were progressing exactly as planned, almost perfectly if this first embryo was successful in attaching to the uterine wall. Despite this, he could not have his precious fetus in a vessel prone to such fits of rage and despair.
Every detail of this experiment had been thought through in exquisite detail, except perhaps the emotional state of the woman. There was a plan for a less than cooperative female, although it was not the preferred outcome as it involved much more work and unpleasantness for everyone. All things considered, it had been naïve for the doctor to have expected the level of cooperation Tamara had given thus far. Concepts like comfort and mental health did not normally factor when it came to his subjects as they were just bodies for him to work his craft upon. For this particular project, he had worked on countless animals previously, for which he gave no particular consideration other than trying to keep the mess and smells to a minimum. Occasionally one of the Brazilian women had been brought in for him to practice technique upon, but he'd always found himself able to work without concerns such as these.
Now, as much as he hated to admit it, it was time to make friends. And for all his brilliance, that was one skill he had not truly mastered. But thinking back on their time together, he thought of at least one thing he could do to start down a different path.
Running out of the lab just briefly, he returned with a squarish metal item, which he set down onto a nearby counter. After adjusting the knobs and dials until he was satisfied, he pulled up his wheeled stool to her side and decided to wait.
It was taking an unusually long time to recover from a simple fainting spell, and Dok was sorely tempted to just pat her cheek with increasing force until she snapped out of it. However, he had been told by Lieutenant Winkle that that was an obnoxious way to be woken up and quickly decided against it. Instead he took her closest hand and squeezed it once with what he assumed was a reassuring amount of pressure. Turning it over in his hands, he noted the extremely dry and rough skin which had come as a result of her working in the kitchen. Clearly, rubber gloves for that staff were an expense that had never been considered worthwhile.
Another minute passed when Tamara did suddenly startle awake. She tried to sit up but he pushed gently on her shoulder to keep her lying down.
"Easy now, you fainted during the implantation." He was relieved to see she wasn't waking in a panic like the last time. "Ten more minutes, then you can get up and walk around for a little while."
She complied quietly, though he noticed her confused expression as she turned her head from side to side as if looking for something in the lab.
"Is that the radio?"
I thought you would like it.
That's what he wanted to say, anyway. Instead he said, "Yes, the radio."
Dok had set the device to a station that played traditional Brazilian music. It was coming in somewhat poorly with static, but the sounds of a samba were still clear enough to be heard.
"Oh, I guess I thought I was on the beach again. It was…"
"It was what?"
For a moment she looked as if she might cry. "It was peaceful," she said flatly.
"Perhaps you could close your eyes and imagine yourself back there, if that would be a pleasant diversion for you while you wait."
She audibly sighed, perhaps a touch dramatically, but did close her eyes. Seeing this, he got up and began to clean and sterilize the instruments he had used. He was just setting the microscope back into its assigned spot in the chemical analysis area when he heard her calling.
"Doktor?"
"Yes? Yes?" His fast footsteps echoed as he came to her side. "What's the matter?"
"I'm sorry, you didn't have to rush over here. I just need to ask you something."
"Mm?" He tried to mask the impatience in his voice. As usual, there were a hundred other things he could be doing at the moment.
"Would it be possible..? I mean, I don't know how to ask this."
"Take your time."
She hesitated, fidgeting and not getting much further than saying, "Uh, well…" If he hadn't just decided to handle her case with kid gloves, so to speak, he would not have put up with it. As it was, he waited silently and with a neutral expression while she attempted to find the right words.
"I know I'm fragile and you probably don't think I can handle it, especially after what happened today."
"Go on."
"Well, do you think you could be honest with me from now on?"
He inhaled sharply through his nose. Reminding himself once more to take extra care with his response, he didn't reply immediately, but began stroking his mouth and chin with a gloved hand.
"Sorry, that came out all wrong," she said with a touch of alarm. "What I meant was…"
"Yes," he interrupted curtly. "I won't lie to you anymore."
Her reaction was a look of shock. "You won't?"
"While I thought that my deceptions were assisting you in a way, clearly it was not the right choice. Going forward, a policy of honesty between us would be for the best, I think."
"Oh. Okay then."
He leaned down slightly towards her, almost conspiratorially.
"But that goes for you too, you know."
She swallowed and gave him an uncomfortable smile. "Right. Um, in that case, I'll tell you that I need to use the bathroom very badly right now."
He straightened back up, satisfied with this small step. There was a long road ahead but maybe, just maybe, she could walk it alongside him until it was time to part ways.
Dok had called it "bedrest," but Tamara mostly just considered it another form of torture. Every few hours, the doctor let her use the restroom and walk up and down the back hallway behind the lab for a few minutes under his watchful eye. Other than those brief outings she had been confined to bed in the windowless patient room.
Despite containing an actual bed, it was still no more interesting a place than her own room. At least Dok had left the radio and some hand lotion for her use on the bedside table. Also the German language books, but even in her boredom she hadn't been motivated to touch them at all. Unlike Roger, she just was not that much of a reader.
Tamara was more than a little mistrustful about the sudden little acts of kindness that Millennium was suddenly bestowing on her, if they could even be called that. First there was the return of her engagement ring, which Dok had confirmed was a reward from the Major for her part in getting to this stage of the project. And now the radio was hers to keep as well.
To help pass the time she fiddled with its controls, trying to figure out how many stations she could actually find. Never more than two, maybe three at a time, and of course they all included a confusing blend of Portuguese language and static. It seemed a small miracle that anything discernible came through at all considering she was in the underground section of a hidden base in the rainforest, of all places. The music was a nice distraction, though, since her thoughts were more jumbled and disturbed than ever. The revelation that she had been hand-selected and kidnapped with the express purpose of impregnating her with her own clone was hard to accept.
At first she decided that she didn't believe any of it, and the doctor was as mad as any in those science fiction movies that Roger loved. He certainly was eccentric enough to be the villain in a made-up story.
The problem was, the evidence that all this madness was true had been mounting ever since her arrival. There was something so sincere, so straightforward about the doctor's manner that she had observed over time. Yes, he was passionate and obsessive-compulsive, but weren't all geniuses? Maybe there was truth to his claims, and this Nazi doctor could indeed clone human embryos, among other things.
You don't know what they're doing, Tamara.
She considered the possibility that Roger had come to learn of this, which would have explained his unusually angry outburst weeks ago. Why hadn't he told her, at least warned her of what was to come?
The music was overtaken by static once again, so she rolled over and gingerly adjusted the radio until something discernible came through again. Then she closed her eyes and tried to transport herself back to the beach in Rio, where nothing bad or insane could touch her.
It was a very difficult mental exercise to accomplish.
"They cloned you? Are you being serious right now?"
"You know I don't joke about stuff like that," Tamara said.
"Well that's…" Roger collapsed fully back onto his cot where he'd already been sitting at Tamara's suggestion. "That's some science fiction level shit right there."
"Roger."
"Oh my God, Obi-Wan Kenobi was right!"
"Roger, please."
"I'm sorry, Tammy. I just… Are you okay?"
"Of course not!"
"Wait wait, so are you…?" He put his hands subconsciously on his own stomach for emphasis.
"We won't know for a few more days. But it doesn't matter, they said they'll just keep trying until I get pregnant." Tamara pressed herself tight up against the prison bars, wishing Roger would come and comfort her.
"Did I do the wrong thing?" she continued. "Should I have tried to fight instead?"
"No, you didn't do anything wrong." Roger rubbed the palms of his hands up and down his face. "Like you said, it wouldn't have mattered." Quietly he added to himself, "What on earth is he up to now?"
"But I cooperated. I participated. I was just so afraid of what would happen to you if I didn't."
"Tammy…"
"And it's my fault we're here in the first place. If I had just let you take me to the Rockies for our honeymoon like you wanted." Her voice began to rise in pitch and volume.
"Stop it."
"Or if I had worn a different shirt that day at the café."
"It's not your fault!" He finally sat up, face angry.
"Yes it is! It's all my fault!"
She began to wail then, unable to suppress any longer the self-hatred and internalized fears that she had hidden from him for so long. He limped to her as fast as he could, then thrust his hands through the bars and pulled her close. Roger felt his shoulder grow damp as she continued to cry into it for a long time.
He silently allowed the wave of emotion to pass, his own heart aching for the both of them. Despite the heaviness of the moment, the way she clutched and grasped at his arms felt really good beneath the baggy clothing.
As much as he was enjoying the accidental massage, as soon as her sobs quieted and turned into sniffs he extricated himself from her grip and cradled her face between his hands.
"Listen, just listen to me, all right?" He gently smoothed away the tears below her puffy eyes with his thumbs.
"All of this, it's unfair. Nobody should have to go through any of this, and yet here we are. I don't know why, if there's any reason behind it. But I do know that our lives have meaning. And if there is a baby," he paused and sighed, "then it probably has some kind of meaning too."
"I don't want to give birth to a monster."
"It's not a monster, Tammy. It's just…another little you. And if she's anything like you, then I would be happy to meet her someday."
"No! It's wrong, it's immoral."
"Yes, but we're way past that now. If anyone is going to be judged for their actions, it's the doctor and the Major and the rest of them. Not you. You are innocent in this. Please, just believe that you have done nothing wrong. Say it, Tammy. Say 'I am innocent.'"
"I can't."
He gripped her firmly by her shoulders.
"I mean it. Say it. 'I am innocent.'"
"I'm innocent."
Roger visibly relaxed and stepped back. He leaned against the wall and shifted as much weight as he could to his good leg.
For a while, neither spoke, both lost in their dark thoughts. Finally, Tamara broke the silence.
"Did you know about this? You knew something that you wouldn't tell me."
"No. I swear I didn't know anything about clones or trying to impregnate you or any of it. All I knew was that the doctor was into some…other questionable things. Nothing that involves you, I promise!"
"Fine. I believe you."
They spent another minute in silence.
"God, Tammy, I hate to ask this, but what happens if you can't get pregnant?"
"Then I'm worthless after all." Her lower lip trembled.
"You're not worthless. We'll just…dammit, we'll just have to pray you get a positive result is all."