Page 2 of Call of the Fathoms

Usually, now was the time that she would lavish Harlow with compliments. She’d tell her how beautiful her skin was, and that she surely was the youngest looking of all the Originals, even though she had been one of the oldest when they had first come down here. The strands of gold in her hair caught the light prettier than anything Alexia had ever seen.

But tonight... tonight she didn’t feel like telling the other woman all that. A strange mood had overcome her, and she wasn’t sure where it originated from.

Harlow huffed. “Can you believe the geneticist missed something with the last reborn? Really, it’s not that hard to do his job. I could replace him just like that.”

The snap of her fingers made Alexia flinch.

The reality was that the Originals could replace anyone they wanted in this city. Unfortunately, replacing someone usually meant killing them. Alexia had done it herself with the last geneticist who had disappointed Harlow. The man’s neck had been all too easy to snap and the snap of Harlow’s fingers sounded eerily similar to the sound his bones had made.

Swallowing hard, she nodded. “I can give him a warning, ma’am.”

“Do you believe a warning will make him listen?”

“He’s been your geneticist for nearly ten years now. I do believe replacing him would be very difficult.”

There was a long pause as Alexia realized she’d given an actual opinion. Harlow didn’t want someone else’s opinion about anything. Her Original wanted Alexia to just agree with everything that Harlow said and parrot it back to her. That was their relationship, and it had worked for years.

What was she doing? Why was she even saying anything about this?

“Right,” Harlow said slowly. “You’re probably correct that I should give him another chance. But make sure you have him prepare another reborn. I can’t have a blemish like this for long.”

“Prepare—“

She felt herself freeze.

The reborns were identical to Harlow and the others. They were clones that were only awoken from their stasis when an Original needed them. There were hundreds of them deep in the heart of this city, surrounded by geneticists who made sure that every single one of them was a pure-blooded creation that was ready to be used for almost any illness or injury.

It was how the Originals had stayed alive for over two hundred years. They took pieces of themselves whenever they needed a replacement.

She hated going into that eerie place. All those bodies in various states of age, hanging there. Suspended in giant test tubes, nude, with their eyes closed. The first time she’d gone into the reborn center, she noticed that their eyes were still moving underneath their lids.

They were dreaming. And it had been hard to think of them as anything other than people when she recognized that small detail.

“A reborn?” Alexia finally managed to cough out. “Is a reborn necessary for this? I can get a doctor and have them prepare you a cream.”

Harlow stilled underneath her hands. A fraction of a second. That’s all it took for the Original to whip around on the bed and grab Alexia by the throat. She was surprisingly strong for an older woman, but it wasn’t her strength that Alexia feared. No, it was the rage in her eyes.

At any second, any Original could choose to have someone removed from Tau. It would only take a single moment for Harlow to bite down hard enough to activate the warning signal that every single Original had affixed to their teeth. Within seconds, an entire entourage of soldiers would appear at her door and they wouldn’t ask questions. They would kill any person who was near Harlow.

Because at the end of the day, even though she had served this woman her entire life, Alexia was dispensible. There were hundreds of other genetically enhanced guards ready to take her place. Some were more willing and biddable, and perhaps even more qualified.

“You’re thinking an awful lot for yourself today,” Harlow murmured. Her eyes flicked back and forth between Alexia’s. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know, ma’am.”

“When did it start?”

“This morning.” It was the first thing she’d noticed when she looked in the mirror.

She’d woken up, looked at her own reflection, and wondered why she looked so different. It was like she was looking at a stranger. Her reflection wasn’t her. That hardened woman who had seen too much surely couldn’t beher.

“Interesting,” Harlow said. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. My thoughts are very foggy and I have been trying to understand them.”

“You’re trying to understand your own thoughts?” Tilting her head to the side, Harlow seemed to peer into her mind. “What kind of thoughts?”

“I have yet to put a name to them, ma’am. It’s hard to follow them when there are so many. They’re quite jumbled.” It was the best explanation she could offer, even though she knew it was the opposite of what Harlow wanted.

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