The Surgeon

TRANSHUMAN: 5

'Ping' – the kitchen work service.

I rush to it – 'ping.'

It's Kade's cell-phone.

......

Kade never left his cell out of his sight; in fact he always kept it on him, he often slept with it.

Knowing his code, I tap it in and stare at the message.

'Dear Sir.

Please see attached your full itinerary for two people on The Trans-Siberian-Express. Thank you for booking your First-Class-Trip with us and don't hesitate to call if you have any queries.'

Holding Kade's cell-phone gives me comfort, it's like still having a part of him.

I sit down and ponder the message – if Kade had duped me into his transition, then why would he bother actually booking and paying for our final trip on the Trans-Siberian-Express?

A surge of hope literally lifts me and I stand up.

But I sit down again knowing that I must be realistic; deceit and subterfuge are all part of The Surgeon's strategy, and I remind myself that we now have three of them.

A sudden dread quashes my hope – three of them and only one of me.

I can't deal with them without Kade by my side.

Then I'm hit by something else that compels me to my feet – it's Kade's smell.

His distinctively sweet, shower fresh cologne has entered the room.

I spin around, searching – but I don't see him.

Yet his smell intensifies and I call out, "Kade, are you here?"

There comes no reply and my shoulders slump.

But they lift again when I become aware of a shuffling sound.

I follow the sound out into the hallway.

Standing in the hallway I listen.

Something, somebody is shuffling in the storeroom to the left of our hallway.

I tread slowly, softly towards the storeroom and pause at its door.

I place my ear lightly against the door and listen intently.

The sound is shuffling, followed by gentle bangs and scrapes, like somebody is clearing out the room of all its junk.

I try to peer through the gap where the door meets the wall, but it's too slight to give me any insight.

But what it does give me is smell – Kade's sweet smell.

My head and heart surge and I grab the handle pulling open the door – "Kade, it's you, isn't it?" I shout.

I see know one in the room and swiftly deflate.

Until my eyes shoot to the shuffle sound.

In a darkened corner of the storeroom, boxes move and shudder.

Keeping my distance, I ask, "Who is it?"

I leap back when there's a tumultuous tumble of boxes, "It's me, I'm looking for my old lap-top, but there's so much junk in here I can't find it."

He looks up at me, his beautifully familiar eyes pleading, "Do you know where it is?" asks little Kelvin, Kade's cloned father.

My disappointment is profound and I shake my head, "No, I don't, sorry," I say.

He scurries past me, and as he does he leaves a waft of Kade in his wake.

I grab him in the kitchen, "Kelvin, are you wearing Kade's cologne?" I ask.

"No," he says, looking over the kitchen tops.

"Then why do you smell like him?" I ask.

He shrugs his shoulders, "I guess it rubbed off on me," he says.

As he goes to walk into the living area, I grab him again, "What do you mean, rubbed off on you?" I ask.

Irritation crumples his face, "Kade gave me a piggy-back to the elevator, I guess his cologne rubbed off on me then," he says, pulling away from me.

I hold onto him, "When did he give you this piggy-back?" I ask, my heart racing like a train.

Kelvin pulls away from me, "Five minutes ago."

He lifts himself up on his toes and scans the kitchen, "He told me to come get his cell-phone."

He rests back on his feet and holds his hand out toward me, "Do you have it, give it to me and I'll go give it back to Kade," he says.

I look down at little Kelvin and swivel my head, "No, take me to Kade and I'll give him his cell."

Kelvin smiles, "Cool – come on then," he says, racing off, full of childhood glee.

......

I follow him with a quiet sense of hope.