26 – Camp Reincarnate
Electra
“Mmm,” he agrees. “I never understood the point of eating animals when the foods we can create in a lab are just as delicious and more nutritious.”
“Not to mention their impact on the environment,” she adds. “But sadly, we didn’t have faux foods this tasty during my time. I still ate them though.”
Evidently, the Vine is kicking in because she’s feeling exceedingly positive about this week’s turnaround. Thoughts like, See, things might work out keep popping into her mind at an alarming rate.
“I’ve been considering your worries about my identity.” Electra moves a faux-tay-toe around her plate. She’s been debating bringing this up with him for days now. Might as well attempt the conversation when the mood is primed for positivity.
He nods as he swallows a bite. “Good.”
“Right, so I found a company on the network that specializes in helping people get fake identities.”
His brows furrow. “That’s illegal, so I highly doubt that’s really what they’re offering.”
“It was on a portal I found called BLACKOUT,” she supplies.
He chokes. “That’s the dark web, which is even more illegal.”
She knew he would resist. But she keeps going.
“It’s called IdenTECH, and their site says they can help people with peculiar problems. Then it showed a woman wearing a shirt that says reincarnate—that’s the word they’re using for people like me.
She places her hand on one of those palm scanners and it shows a big green response, saying Identity Verified!
GROW’s logo is on there. They’re your competitor having the mishap issue, right? ”
Around them, there is a swish of water, and the particle panes show a school of cherry red minnows zip by, pursued by some larger blue fish.
They zoom and dip around the room, making a swift pass by the restaurant’s only real aquarium.
It holds a single lonely-looking lionfish.
Electra feels sorry for the creature as the fish images make another confusing pass.
The poor thing’s spines are standing at attention as it shifts and spins in the small tank.
She tears her gaze away to find Res6 studying her. “I’m not sure getting a fake ID is a good idea.”
The second death threat she received that morning almost convinced her to keep quiet like he wants.
“You can’t block all of us. We told you we don’t want your old-world advice.
Every word you write is another step closer to the recycle station.
Nice freckles, by the way.” Panicky thoughts flitted through her mind like those red minnows.
Do they know my identity? Are they the same people who took the DNA?
Are they going to find me and take this second chance I doesn’t even deserve?
But that’s the response they wanted, so she talked herself out of deleting her account and shot her new friend Sister Xelna over a screenshot of the threat looking for some reassurance.
Xelna told her she got messages like when she first started The Sacred Order of Feline Transcendence.
“There will inevitably be people opposed to your ideas. You can’t let them win.
” Xelna was right. With how popular her cat cult is now, she is speaking from experience.
Still, thinking about it makes a shiver run down her spine.
Too bad she can’t ask Res6 about it. Random death threats from internet trolls would not help her case.
She must maintain a positive outlook on the topic if she stands any chance of convincing him.
“I hear you. But I was thinking you could meet with them and see if they’re legit.
If I got an ID, you might feel more comfortable with the idea of my Dear Electra blog.
Maybe I could even publish my work again. ”
“Electra,” he says. “What makes you think they’re legit?”
“I thought maybe you could go meet with them and get a gauge.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not sure you’ve thought this all the way through.”
A flash of red that she’s pretty sure isn’t the minnows darts across her vision, and she flinches as if he slapped her.
“I haven’t thought it through completely.
That’s why I’m discussing it with you. But why would I expect you to know this?
You’ve only had relationships with sex clones for most of your life. ”
Instantly she knows she’s said the wrong thing.
His shoulders tense. “BLACKOUT deals can be risky. We don’t want to expose ourselves to any unneeded scrutiny. Thank you for bringing it up for discussion.”
“But . . . It’s not a discussion if I bring something up and you decide for me.
That isn’t how relationships work, Res6.
Consider my perspective. If I’m not anyone but a manupartner, how can I work or contribute to society long-term?
According to you, I’m not even registered like a normal manupartner, so I can’t use the SATs or go to the gym alone. ”
He scoots nearer, reaching behind her to pull a lock of hair over her shoulder and twirls it around his finger. “I hear your concerns, but the company you found is an unnecessary risk. As for the gym, I’ll take you, and I’ll register you as a manupartner so you can use the SATs.”
Alarm prickles through her. She shifts back, nearly to the edge of the semicircle booth.
“The gym isn’t the point. This is exactly why I need to support myself.
If I rely on you for everything, I have no true freedom.
I’m subject to your judgment and decision-making.
” And if you’re wrong, I’m the one who pays the price.
His brow wrinkles as if he’s contemplating something. Carefully, he says, “I’m trying to understand.”
“If it’s up to you, I’ll be registered as a manupartner for the rest of my life. What more is there to understand?” She slumps back, crossing her arms.
“I don’t see what the problem is. It gives you access to everything you said you wanted. I’m trying to keep you safe, not control you, if that’s what this is about.”
In a rare moment of independence-fueled security, she maniacally gestures to the room. “What do you think is going to happen, Res6? I am safe.”
His lip curls, and he snaps, “I thought the same thing about Jerme, and look what happened.”
Her heart jumps to her throat. Oh God. It makes perfect sense. He’s finally allowing himself to become attached to someone, which brings up the fear of loss. Shit. She moves closer, but he slides out of the booth.
Curious eyes track her as she jumps up to follow him.
“Res6, please!” People are definitely staring. The rollercoaster of her emotions over the last week is too much. Between being worried that no one wanted her column, the emotional visit to his brother’s site, and the frustration of their little misunderstandings, she needs a break.
He holds out his hands in a placating gesture. “Don’t worry, people. Just a little role-playing for the make-up sex.” Then he turns to her and—no shit—says, “Fight with me, baby.”
Her mouth drops open. “You’re a total lunatic.”
He steps closer, latching onto her elbow. He leans in close, murmuring only for her ears, “Understand this: if you draw attention to yourself, there’s a limit to what I can do to keep you safe.”
Her head might actually explode. “All the more reason to meet these IdenTECH people and get me an identity.” Louder, so the fight scene is believable, she says, “And just when I thought things were going well.”
“We don’t know them. It could be a setup by NHOS searching for these reincarnates. It’s too risky.” He takes her elbow, leading her out of the restaurant.
As they march down the hallway, something nauseating occurs to her.
“This is about your company again, isn’t it?
Not me, an actual human being. I don’t know why I thought you might understand.
You’re unbelievable. It’s easier for you to keep me under your thumb where you can control me and make sure I don’t upset your perfect world.
So fucking typical. Take me home. I’ll figure it out on my own.
” She jerks her elbow out of his grasp, cringing at the word home.
His arm wraps around her waist without another word.
When they finally get back in the elevator that leads to the penthouses, he leans in, grumbling, “You are being impossible. If you recall, I chose you over my company when you had a sparkler aimed at your head. Then I got rid of Chryl, again choosing you.”
Her throat tightens at the chastisement. “I—”
“I’m not done,” he growls, releasing her waist to punch the elevator button, which redirects them to the private SAT garages.
“Inspector Wanda informed me that NHOS knows about GROW’s mishaps.
Apparently, there was a manhunt a few weeks ago that made the news.
Since then, they learned about and caught several more.
” Her hand drifts to her gaping mouth. “Do you know what they’re doing with them?
” She shakes her head. “They’re keeping them in holding cells as if they’re manupartners.
” His eyes go distant, like when he’s using his m-volt.
“Come on.” He takes her hand, leading her from the elevator to his private SAT.
Between his irritation and his determined strides, resisting seems pointless. “Where are we going?”
He blows past the attendant and opens his private SAT’s door. “Get in. I was going to drop you off at the unit before my next meeting, but since you refuse to listen to reason, change of plans.”
That doesn’t sound ominous at all. She slides in, noting the sleek silver case in the backseat. He marches around, dropping into the seat next to her. “You’re not reconsidering recycling me, are you?” she asks, halfheartedly joking.
His eyes roll—an apparently universal gesture. “I agreed to help Inspector Wanda evaluate these mishaps she’s caught. Since you refuse to hear reason, you’re going with me.”