The Other Version

She sat on the edge of the bed looking at the sleeping child. Her cheeks were rosy from the summer day, her hair tousled about her face. She looked happy, peaceful. She once again examined her feelings towards this child, her child. She cared for her, perhaps even loved her. 

The child would be taken care of, continuing down the path that had been so carefully arranged. With the evidence of high intelligence and increasing self-confidence there was no doubt that she would continue to thrive. 

She was careful to adhere to the plan down to the tiniest detail not wanting to trip the system. There was absolutely no room for error. The livelihood of the child depended on the success of the procedure.

Watching the fish swim aimlessly she was relieved that the child was satisfied with the choice of pet. Knowing that the puppy she had desperately wanted was out of the question for the moment the elaborate aquarium was the temporary consolation prize. Instructions for the pet adoption would go into effect on the child’s next birthday, shortly after the transition. At that point their keen senses would not pick up anything. The breeder had been carefully selected, the litter of golden retrievers were due at the perfect time and arrangements were solidified.

Rising from the bed she was deep in thought. She glanced around the beautifully decorated room going through her mental checklist item by item. Everything was set for the following day, outfit picked out, backpack full of completed homework, carpool carefully arranged for afterschool activities. The day would go smoothly, seamlessly.

With one last look at her daughter, she turned off the bedroom light, stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her. She held onto the doorknob longer than expected before letting go but let go, nonetheless. It was time. It was right. 

Her decision to return to the lab was not one she had made lightly. The pull she felt towards her work, her project was undeniable. The duplications over the years had been monitored and successful, starting off small and growing little by little. Each positive outcome gave her the confidence to continue. She was certain of the results, the glitches had all been worked out.

Truth be told the child would greatly benefit from the aftereffects of the transition. To say that her mind was on her work was an oversimplification. An obsession, a total preoccupation would be a more accurate assessment, certainly not in the child’s best interests. Children simply deserved more attention than she was willing or able to provide.  

Careful not to make a sound she removed the black bags from the foyer closest where they had been placed just out of sight. According to her calculations there would be less than an hour without her presence in the home. The nanny would wake in the event of an emergency, and her absence would be easily explained by the empty milk container strategically placed on the kitchen counter.

The driver was waiting in the shadows at the end of the driveway as per the instructions. “Where to, ma’am?” he asked, always professional and discreet. “The lab,” she responded as they drove away from the home where they had both lived for the past six years, neither one of them planning to return. Not wanting to give up her trusted employee and friend, a second apartment was stocked and ready for their arrival at the compound. The replacement driver was to start his assignment at the house the following day and had been given a detailed report of his schedule and responsibilities. After an aggressive interviewing process and glowing recommendations from trusted sources she felt safe with the new hire.

Arriving on schedule she arranged for her bags to be brought to her apartment while she herself was dropped off directly at the lab. Not wanting to waste any further time she flipped on the switches bringing to life the room she had been missing for years. Running her hands over the keyboards she listened to the humming of her machinery, her work, her life’s blood. Everything was in place, every detail checked and double checked waiting for her eventual return.

Emptying her pockets of any personal effects before changing into her gown she was startled to find the napkins folded up neatly and tucked away. She had a flash of a memory from their afternoon outing to the ice cream shop earlier that day. Although just a few hours prior it already felt distant, unreal as she had left that life behind. A momentary pause while rubbing the napkin between her fingers she recalled the sticky softness as she wiped her child’s rosy lips of the treat. They had laughed together, sharing an unexpected warmth of closeness.

Shaking her head, clearing herself of the emotion, she quickly put on the loose-fitting gown and tossed the outfit she had just removed into the container marked ‘to be destroyed’. Picking up the folded napkins she tossed them in as well.

She placed her sample on the tray and carefully typed the data into the monitor. After ensuring the accuracy of the information she advanced to the next screen. One by one she went through the questions, the choices, the seemingly endless series of yes and no, on and off. Her answers were ready, having had years to reflect and decide. She was certain. Reaching the last question “Retain memory?” she took a deep breath and clicked “No.”

She hit submit.

***

They say everyone has a twin out there somewhere.

Leaving the cafe with her morning coffee she was startled to see her mirror image walk past. Rooted to the spot she stood and stared, watching in amazement as an exact duplicate of herself held the hand of a curly haired little girl with rosy cheeks.  Alongside the girl was a large golden retriever, obviously well trained, walking in rhythm with the girl. 

They looked so happy, so peaceful and content, the mother doting, and the daughter basking in that love. 

It took but a moment to realize what had transpired. Her mind, the mind of a scientist, worked out the puzzle and came to the final conclusion. She was seeing the other version of herself.