"Stabbing a Reflection" by Melody Wiklund
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"Stabbing a Reflection" by Melody Wiklund
The following story has been selected as a featured runner-up in our 2015 short story contest (Contest Theme - "The Self-Destructiveness of Vengeance and Hate")
"Stabbing a Reflection" by Melody Wiklund
Some Valdez clones would have considered it stupid to get caught in a skirmish with the Austin clones with nothing but knives. Jaynine didn’t mind. If she had known today’s patrol was going to lead her and Jaythree into a swarm of ten Austins, she might have brought a gun, sure, but in the end she preferred knives anyway. There was a certain pleasure in how personal it was to stab and slice their flesh, skewering and ripping, close enough to see the look on their faces as they died and watch their blood seep into the sand. She was sure the original Valdez would have approved.
Jaythree did mind, though, and she made that quite clear when the skirmish was over.
“Stop grinning, Jaynine. We should have had guns. That was…That much danger is not acceptable. We could have sniped them. If we had guns.”
Jaynine shrugged. “We got them all, didn’t we?” She tried to restrain her smile but then gave up. So what if Jaythree was annoyed? Ten Austins were dead. That was nothing to mope about.
“I don’t know what you’re so happy about,” Jaythree said. “You’ll have a new scar.”
“All the better. That makes more than you.” It would snake from her shoulder almost to her elbow, a thin slice, just shallow enough that even if it did scar, it might disappear within a few years.
They bandaged that cut and a few other, more minor wounds on the pickup helicopter-hunters weren’t supposed to stay out after a skirmish so they had to call the fort for a pickup. Their pilot, Jayleven, kept on giving them concerned glances from the cockpit. Jaynine wished she’d focus on flying.
“Was it a good hunt?” Jayleven asked, far after anyone else would have. They were already far from the pickup site, almost to headquarters even.
“Yes,” Jaynine said.
“No,” Jaythree said.
“Ten dead, Jaythree! What more can you ask for?” For a partner hunt, at least, that was good in Jaynine’s book. A group of hunters could have taken out far more, but Jaynine preferred to hunt with Jaythree alone and she knew Jaythree preferred it too.
Jaythree said, “Less injuries. Less you rushing out and doing whatever you want.”
“But you could not ask more of the results.”
Jaythree laughed. “Ten dead and you call that a great triumph? That’s not enough to satisfy a true Valdez. All of them dead: that would be enough.”
Jaynine laughed too.
Jayleven didn’t speak again for the rest of the flight.
* * *
Most at Fort Valdez agreed that the first of their kind was made somewhere between a hundred and a hundred and twenty years ago. Even that fact was fuzzy, and from there the uncertainty only got worse. Had the fort been made back then, or was it made later when there were more clones to house? Had Valdez paid for the clones to be created or had someone else funded her? Had the original clones, the A clones, been known as A clones at the time, or had the letter system kicked in later?
Some people worried over such questions. More than that they wondered why they had been made in the first place. A hundred years of clone production and Austin killing had muddied the waters, and every trainer told a different story to explain it all.
Two facts remained certain: That Valdez had been the one to have them produced, and that she had made them for one purpose and one purpose only, to kill the Austin clones. That much was certain because of the credo. The only written work that remained of Valdez, the only words it was certain that she had said. It was short, but every clone carried a copy of it written or printed out on a card that they kept tucked away in a boot or a belt or sometimes even sewed into their uniforms.
“George Austin is scum. And scum should not be allowed to live. I do loathe his existence. It is my will that he be wiped of the face of this Earth so that not a cell or a replica of a cell of his body shall remain living. To this end I shall multiply myself. I shall become legion and thus I will be assured of his destruction. As you be blood of my blood and flesh of my flesh, betray me not but end this abomination and never rest while a trace of him endures.”
Jaynine wrote the words afresh every month on a new index card. It was partly a ritual, to remind herself of her purpose, to destroy every Austin clone ever created, and partly because by the end of the month the paper would wear apart. She kept it inside her left sock, and as a Valdez hunter she spent most of her time on her feet.
* * *
The primary J table in the mess hall, once consistently filled with the Jays from one to thirty-five, had grown sparser lately. Jaythree still sat there so Jaynine never felt lonely, exactly, but it was a pity. With some of the more intelligent clones like Jayleven now absenting themselves to sit elsewhere, she found herself forced to carry on conversation with the likes of Jayonefive.
Jayonefive was okay. She wasn’t squeamish, like Jayleven, and she had the right attitude. But she didn’t get it like Jaythree did. And now Jaynine had been forced to explain herself three times in a row and was embarking on the fourth attempt.
“So you’ve never had a weird dream? In your life? Sometimes I wonder if our genetic sequence is really identical. Okay, I’m not saying I’m actually an Austin clone in the dream. I stay myself. I’m just an Austin clone.”
Jayonefive wrinkled her nose. “What do you even mean?”
“I look in the mirror and I’m an Austin. Red hair, freckles, male, the works. And I know that I’m actually me, but I look like an Austin clone. And then I take out a knife and stab the mirror. That usually wakes me up.”
“As if stabbing a mirror would actually kill the clone,” Jayonefive said. She still looked puzzled. Idiot.
“Can’t blame the girl for trying,” Jaythree said.
“Anyways, I dream that a lot recently,” Jaynine said. “You’re saying you’ve never had a dream like that?”
Jaythree sighed. She’d heard about the dream enough times that she was tired of the subject, even though the first time they’d discussed it she’d been quite willing to dissect all the little intricacies.
“Anyways, it’s the worst dream I’ve ever had. When I wake up, I have to spend ten minutes longer in the shower,” Jaynine said. “Ugh.”
Jayonefive still didn’t quite get it, but Jaynine wasn’t listing out all the details again, of how the mirror began to bleed instants before she woke up and how she always considered, a moment before stabbing the mirror, whether it would be more efficient to sink the knife into her own stomach. And she certainly wouldn’t get into how she was never surprised to see the Austin in the mirror, how it felt inevitable, how the only surprise was waking up and realizing that she wasn’t an Austin after all, that she never would be.
Jaythree said, “Your dreams are boring, Jaynine. Don’t you kill enough Austins in real life to suit your appetite?”
“I haven’t heard of you having any better.”
“That’s because I know that talking about dreams is boring to everyone else in the room.”
“Shut it.”
* * *
When Jaynine was young, freshly out of the pod and willing to believe every theory the trainers handed her, she believed the original George Austin had been some sort of evil mob boss. She thought he had so much power that the original Valdez had been forced to destroy him any way that was possible. And after trying for years to assassinate him herself, she had decided on creating clones of herself to assist her in the job. All for justice’s sake and to prevent him from harming more innocent citizens. This, of course, would have been back in the day when there still were innocent citizens in the area, before the clone conflict grew so intense that everyone but the clones had abandoned the entire province for their own safety, and the only civilization left had been Fort Valdez and Fort Austin.
Now, though, Jaynine had a different opinion on the matter. Justice was all well and good, and she was sure that killing the Austins was just, but Valdez had probably had more than justice in mind. With the funding she must have had to create the clones and Fort Valdez and raise them to be the killers they were now, she could have easily hired mercenaries to take Austin out, even as many mercenaries as there were now clones, and it would possibly have been even cheaper.
But no. She had wanted to take Austin out with her own hands, flesh of her flesh and blood of her blood even if it was contained by a separate body, and so mercenaries had not been good enough. And that meant that whatever reason she had for hating Austin, it had been personal. Deeply personal.
Her own favorite theory? Austin and Valdez had been friends. And then Austin had turned out to be an utter skunk and betrayed Valdez. Maybe he had tried to kill her, maybe he had killed a friend, maybe he had never truly been a friend in the first place. Anyways, it had been bad enough to warrant his destruction, and somehow Valdez had gotten the power to see to it. A neat ending, except for the fact that somehow Austin had ended up able to produce clones as well, and so it had dragged on to the present day. Jaynine hoped it would end in this generation, Valdez’s vengeance. Hoped that if possible, she would be the one to kill the last Austin herself.
It was impossible to know if her theory was right, although many she knew shared it. Valdez was dead, and all who knew her were dead as well. The A clones dead, the B clones dead. There was one C left, Ceeonesixone, but she was senile and her words could not be trusted.
Still, Jaynine believed Austin and Valdez had been close. Most likely Valdez had even liked Austin. That was why she preferred knives. Surely it was not proper to snipe a former friend from a distance with no feeling in your heart and no personal risk. That would not have been carrying on the spirit of Valdez.
* * *
Apparently Jayonefive not only was stupid but couldn’t keep her mouth shut, because two days after their conversation Jaynine found herself in council member Efsixtwo’s office, explaining what exactly was wrong with her dreams and why it didn’t mean something was wrong with her.
“You’re imagining what it would be like to be an Austin,” Efsixtwo said.
“Yeah, well, I don’t see how that matters. I end up killing the Austin by the end of the dream. If anything you should commend me for my devotion,” Jaynine said. It always felt like by stabbing the mirror, she was still stabbing herself.
“You’re sympathizing with the Austins,” Efsixtwo said.
“I end up stabbing it.”
“After hesitating, you said. You almost kill yourself instead. Tell me, Valdez J-9, have you been feeling guilty lately?”
“What? No!” Jaynine said. As if. “Killing Austins is my reason for existence. It doesn’t make me feel guilty. It’s a pleasure.”
Efsixtwo shook her head. “Dreams tell us things we would never admit in waking hours, even to ourselves. You sympathize with the Austins, even if it’s subconscious.”
“I don’t.”
“Jaynine, it’s fine. Not everyone is made for hunting. The genes come through stronger in some than in others.”
Jaynine could have punched the woman. “I’m not exactly Jayleven!”
“I think you need some time off hunting. Some time to figure out how you feel about it,” Efsixtwo said. She held up a hand as Jaynine began to protest. “It doesn’t need to be permanent. We’ll talk again in a year or so. Until then, you will not leave the fort. You will be assigned to a new position.”
Not permanent! As if that made it any better. To go a year without hunting would kill Jaynine more surely than any overeager Austin ever could.
Jaythree was sympathetic. She stayed up with Jaynine on the nights that Jaynine ranted past midnight about the injustice of it all. She distracted Jaynine on the days when Jaynine was fit to burst with nervous energy and left unbothered would have spent all day throwing knives at a portrait of Austin she had pinned up on the wall, next to a copy of the credo.
Jaythree didn’t get it though, because she was still allowed on hunts, even though she had to go solo now.
“I miss you at my back,” she told Jaynine after the first solo hunt she went on.
Jaynine just snarled at her.
* * *
Some people said that there had been no feud between Valdez and Austin at all. That Austin had done nothing to arouse her wrath except exist. They claimed she had known from first sight that he was simply scum. Something about his appearance had set her off and for some reason he had proved hard to kill. He had simply been too disgusting to let live.
Jaynine never came close to believing that one for a simple reason: Austin wasn’t hideous. Of all the Austins she had ever met, she had never found one whose appearance could have been called disgusting.
Rather, the Austin face was strangely attractive. It was fairly plain, with its scattered freckles and chubby cheeks, but open. If she hadn’t already known Austins were monsters that needed to be exterminated she might have been tempted to sit down with an Austin and have a good long talk, maybe flirted. Although who knew-it wasn’t like Jaynine had ever met any other guys. Maybe she only thought the Austin form was attractive because it was the only male form she had ever known.
Now, the opposite theory she found plausible. Maybe even if Valdez hadn’t known Austin well she had known how exquisite his face would look twisted in pain, how devastatingly delicious it would be to soak the sand in his blood. But the credo didn’t support that version of events, so she supposed that was impossible.
* * *
When Jaythree didn’t come home one night after a solo hunt, Jaynine wasn’t immediately worried. She stayed up late though, waiting for her pickup helicopter to come in. But when Jayleven, the pilot of said helicopter, arrived at the fort, she said Jaythree had never arrived at the pickup site. And as she spoke, her voice quavered.
But anything could make Jayleven nervous.
Jaynine didn’t worry. No, she didn’t. She didn’t sleep much, but that didn’t mean she was worried. Jaythree could take care of herself. She was a beast in battle, as strong as Jaynine herself. And she had been carrying a rifle.
It was two days before she started wondering what could have happened in earnest. Four days before she admitted death as a possibility. Two weeks before she gave up.
The wasteland was not a kind place for a Valdez on her own.
A few G and H clones expressed their sympathy to her. The Jays mostly left her alone. She had always been so focused on Jaythree that she never bothered to get to know them well. They were her sisters too but she didn’t trust them like she trusted Jaythree. She couldn’t talk to them about her crazy dreams, as the Jayonefive incident had proved. She wouldn’t have wanted to count their scars and compare their sizes and shapes to her own. And they wouldn’t have understood how much more beautiful the sunset was when your hands were covered in Austin blood.
Strangely enough, the one Jay who kept on approaching her was Jayleven. A wimp, really, who had stopped hunting a year ago after getting squeamish, but somehow the only person unafraid to talk to her. It was almost funny.
She listened to Jaynine rant about Jaythree time and time again with no comment. Indeed, although she approached Jaynine often it seemed she had little to say until one day she brought up the topic of Jaynine’s disgrace.
“I heard about your dream,” she said. “The one where you become an Austin.”
Which hadn’t stopped recently, although it had been joined by dreams of killing Jaythree, stabbing her while the two of them laughed about how this wound would never leave a scar.
Jaynine snorted. “From Jayonefive, no doubt. It seems she told everyone.”
Jayleven nodded. “I thought it was interesting. That you could imagine being an Austin.”
“Certainly, as a nightmare,” Jaynine said.
“I can imagine it too,” Jayleven said. “We’re not all that different, you know.”
“Huh?”
“We’re both armies of clones with only one goal in life, left here by creators that never really explained what we’re doing,” Jayleven said. “We both struggle. We both die in hordes, and no one cares because the next generation is always there, and we’re all replaceable.”
“Well, when you put it like that, I guess there isn’t much of a difference,” Jaynine said. Except that the Valdez were superior and were going to win.
“There isn’t,” Jayleven said.
Jaynine laughed. “It’s funny, don’t you think? I’ve killed hundreds of men who could just as easily have been my brother.” And if she had actually been an Austin clone…Well, that was what her dream was about, wasn’t it? That would indeed have been a miserable existence.
“Not so funny,” Jayleven said. “A bit sad.”
It was indeed a bit sad to imagine that they could possibly have been Austins, a bit disturbing even. Well, they were lucky. Jaynine nodded. “It’s definitely something to think about. But you know, I wouldn’t talk like this to anyone else.” People got jumpy. She could get in trouble like Jaynine.
Jayleven said, “I won’t. But…can I talk to you about this again?”
Jaythree would have been open to talking about it. She was always open to talking about the strange thoughts that wandered in and out of Jaynine’s mind. So Jaynine said, “Sure. Anytime, babe.”
* * *
And Jayleven did talk to her about it again. And again. And again. And again. There was something worrying her about it, that was for sure. Jaynine tried to be nice about it. Jaythree, she knew, would have been nice. And besides, Jayleven was good company when she wasn’t being mushy.
Then one day Jayleven invited her on a helicopter ride.
“You know I’m not allowed outside the fort,” Jaynine said. “Because I’m not a hunter anymore. I’m grounded.”
“We both know the elders are wrong about some things,” Jayleven said. “What’s wrong with breaking a few rules? And I have something to show you.”
It was nice to see the clear sky again without fort walls bordering it. Jaynine didn’t regret taking Jayleven up on her offer. They talked about simple things, like the weather and the other Jays, as they flew, until they landed on a plateau.
“Nice view,” Jaynine said, stepping out of the cockpit.
“Yeah,” Jayleven said. “Um, I think I should warn you. We’re meeting someone here.”
“Oh.” Jaynine shrugged. “Fine by me.” If it was a pickup, she might get in trouble for being outside the fort. But how much more trouble could she get into? She already couldn’t hunt.
But no hunter arrived at the plateau. Instead, fifteen minutes later, another helicopter landed next to Jayleven’s. Jaynine didn’t recognize it.
She went to the door, Jayleven behind her, and saw a man in the cockpit.
A man with red hair and freckles.
“Hello,” said the man. “You must be Jaynine. Jayleven’s told me about you.”
“This is Elfourfour, Jaynine,” Jayleven said. “Um…I know he looks a bit young for an L but they’re ahead of us in production at Fort Austin. I met him in a hunt a year ago.”
Jaynine stepped aside from the door to let the man get out. He went over to Jayleven, standing as close to her as Jaynine had ever stood to Jaythree.
“We fought until we were both injured. It was obvious we would both die if we kept on fighting,” Jayleven explained. “So we called a truce, and we talked and, well…we’ve been meeting up since then.” The blush on her face added details to the brief story. That and the way she angled her body towards him, a strange combination of bashful and yet utterly comfortable.
Jaynine wondered, indifferently almost, if they were going to kiss.
“Jayleven’s told me about your talks,” the Austin said. “She says that you’re different from the other Valdez, that you think we could be alike. I think we are very alike. I’ve lived my life hunting down your kind, and you’ve lived your life hunting down mine. Now we’ve learned to look beyond ourselves, and neither of us hunt anymore. Now we can meet as friends.”
* * *
One theory as to the origin of the war was that Austin had actually been the one to start it. For some reason he had hated Valdez beyond all endurance, and he had started producing an army of clones. The Valdez army had been mere retaliation.
Jaynine didn’t believe it because the Austins were weak. She had killed more than a hundred in her time, probably more than two hundred. They lacked the drive that made Valdez clones excel. She had never once seen an Austin clone delight in a kill the way she did in hers, never seen them grin as they ran at her. They were all grim focus, lacking true rage. It was obvious that when they fought, they were thinking about survival. They weren’t thinking about inflicting pain. They weren’t thinking about the offenses of the original Valdez, however unknown, and thrilling in revenge.
Austin must have been weak too, then. Afraid of dying, he must have made his clones as a defense, or perhaps to carry on his legacy. And since they were not conceived in hate, the Austins couldn’t be as the Valdez were. They didn’t even understand why they were fighting.
This was the difference between Jaynine and the Austins: Jaynine understood. She had read the credo. She had it memorized. And she never forgot.
* * *
The Austin droned on for a while. Finally he held out a hand. “I am glad to meet you, Jaynine.”
Jayleven beamed.
Jaynine flipped the dagger out of the sheath on her thigh and stabbed him in the chest.
The horrified look of a dying Austin’s face never got old. She stabbed him twice more for good measure. He didn’t even go for a weapon. Maybe he didn’t have any weapons on him. He was no strong warrior anyways, talking about peace between the two of them like it was an actual possibility.
Jayleven was screaming.
The Austin fell on the sand when she was done, clutching at his chest. Jaynine stepped over him and slapped Jayleven across her cheek, a backhand. “Pull yourself together. I just ended your enemy.”
Jayleven stared at her, uncomprehending. “Why did you kill him?”
“Why did you love him? You couldn’t have imagined it would end well.”
“It could have,” Jayleven said. She swallowed hard, staring over Jaynine’s shoulder at the corpse. “It could have.”
“You can’t talk to Austins,” Jaynine said. “They said I was confused at the fort, a sympathizer, but you…I don’t even know what to call you.” She shook her head. “Maybe swine.”
Jayleven went down even easier than her stupid lover. Jaynine only had to stab her once, and she didn’t even scream. She did look a bit surprised as she toppled over, but honestly, what had she been expecting? No Valdez could stand treachery. That was one reason Jaynine would have bet money on Austin and Valdez originally being friends.
She half expected killing a Valdez to be different from killing an Austin, but it wasn’t. She laughed. Jayleven had called the Valdez and the Austins similar. Well, at least Jayleven was similar to an Austin. They were both scum, only good for killing. There was no guilt. She wiped her knife off on Jayleven’s shirt. Her hand she left bloody. She liked the feeling.
She didn’t know how to pilot the helicopter. She could have called for a pickup, perhaps. The elders might have believed her explanation of Jayleven’s body. If it came down to it, she could even have lied, claimed the Austin and Jayleven had killed each other. It would have been more believable than this farce.
But there was no reason to return to the fort. What was there for her? Sisters, but apparently even being a Valdez didn’t make you any better at heart.
Jaythree wouldn’t be there. She was the only good one.
And at the fort, there was no one to kill. And Jaynine liked hunting.
There were rations in the helicopters. Not much, but enough for a few days. She made a bundle of them and started walking. Out here, in the wasteland, she would find a hunt whether it was forbidden her or not. She would satisfy the blood thirst the original Valdez had instilled in her veins. And perhaps she would find Jaythree, even if only in death.
"Stabbing a Reflection" by Melody Wiklund
Some Valdez clones would have considered it stupid to get caught in a skirmish with the Austin clones with nothing but knives. Jaynine didn’t mind. If she had known today’s patrol was going to lead her and Jaythree into a swarm of ten Austins, she might have brought a gun, sure, but in the end she preferred knives anyway. There was a certain pleasure in how personal it was to stab and slice their flesh, skewering and ripping, close enough to see the look on their faces as they died and watch their blood seep into the sand. She was sure the original Valdez would have approved.
Jaythree did mind, though, and she made that quite clear when the skirmish was over.
“Stop grinning, Jaynine. We should have had guns. That was…That much danger is not acceptable. We could have sniped them. If we had guns.”
Jaynine shrugged. “We got them all, didn’t we?” She tried to restrain her smile but then gave up. So what if Jaythree was annoyed? Ten Austins were dead. That was nothing to mope about.
“I don’t know what you’re so happy about,” Jaythree said. “You’ll have a new scar.”
“All the better. That makes more than you.” It would snake from her shoulder almost to her elbow, a thin slice, just shallow enough that even if it did scar, it might disappear within a few years.
They bandaged that cut and a few other, more minor wounds on the pickup helicopter-hunters weren’t supposed to stay out after a skirmish so they had to call the fort for a pickup. Their pilot, Jayleven, kept on giving them concerned glances from the cockpit. Jaynine wished she’d focus on flying.
“Was it a good hunt?” Jayleven asked, far after anyone else would have. They were already far from the pickup site, almost to headquarters even.
“Yes,” Jaynine said.
“No,” Jaythree said.
“Ten dead, Jaythree! What more can you ask for?” For a partner hunt, at least, that was good in Jaynine’s book. A group of hunters could have taken out far more, but Jaynine preferred to hunt with Jaythree alone and she knew Jaythree preferred it too.
Jaythree said, “Less injuries. Less you rushing out and doing whatever you want.”
“But you could not ask more of the results.”
Jaythree laughed. “Ten dead and you call that a great triumph? That’s not enough to satisfy a true Valdez. All of them dead: that would be enough.”
Jaynine laughed too.
Jayleven didn’t speak again for the rest of the flight.
* * *
Most at Fort Valdez agreed that the first of their kind was made somewhere between a hundred and a hundred and twenty years ago. Even that fact was fuzzy, and from there the uncertainty only got worse. Had the fort been made back then, or was it made later when there were more clones to house? Had Valdez paid for the clones to be created or had someone else funded her? Had the original clones, the A clones, been known as A clones at the time, or had the letter system kicked in later?
Some people worried over such questions. More than that they wondered why they had been made in the first place. A hundred years of clone production and Austin killing had muddied the waters, and every trainer told a different story to explain it all.
Two facts remained certain: That Valdez had been the one to have them produced, and that she had made them for one purpose and one purpose only, to kill the Austin clones. That much was certain because of the credo. The only written work that remained of Valdez, the only words it was certain that she had said. It was short, but every clone carried a copy of it written or printed out on a card that they kept tucked away in a boot or a belt or sometimes even sewed into their uniforms.
“George Austin is scum. And scum should not be allowed to live. I do loathe his existence. It is my will that he be wiped of the face of this Earth so that not a cell or a replica of a cell of his body shall remain living. To this end I shall multiply myself. I shall become legion and thus I will be assured of his destruction. As you be blood of my blood and flesh of my flesh, betray me not but end this abomination and never rest while a trace of him endures.”
Jaynine wrote the words afresh every month on a new index card. It was partly a ritual, to remind herself of her purpose, to destroy every Austin clone ever created, and partly because by the end of the month the paper would wear apart. She kept it inside her left sock, and as a Valdez hunter she spent most of her time on her feet.
* * *
The primary J table in the mess hall, once consistently filled with the Jays from one to thirty-five, had grown sparser lately. Jaythree still sat there so Jaynine never felt lonely, exactly, but it was a pity. With some of the more intelligent clones like Jayleven now absenting themselves to sit elsewhere, she found herself forced to carry on conversation with the likes of Jayonefive.
Jayonefive was okay. She wasn’t squeamish, like Jayleven, and she had the right attitude. But she didn’t get it like Jaythree did. And now Jaynine had been forced to explain herself three times in a row and was embarking on the fourth attempt.
“So you’ve never had a weird dream? In your life? Sometimes I wonder if our genetic sequence is really identical. Okay, I’m not saying I’m actually an Austin clone in the dream. I stay myself. I’m just an Austin clone.”
Jayonefive wrinkled her nose. “What do you even mean?”
“I look in the mirror and I’m an Austin. Red hair, freckles, male, the works. And I know that I’m actually me, but I look like an Austin clone. And then I take out a knife and stab the mirror. That usually wakes me up.”
“As if stabbing a mirror would actually kill the clone,” Jayonefive said. She still looked puzzled. Idiot.
“Can’t blame the girl for trying,” Jaythree said.
“Anyways, I dream that a lot recently,” Jaynine said. “You’re saying you’ve never had a dream like that?”
Jaythree sighed. She’d heard about the dream enough times that she was tired of the subject, even though the first time they’d discussed it she’d been quite willing to dissect all the little intricacies.
“Anyways, it’s the worst dream I’ve ever had. When I wake up, I have to spend ten minutes longer in the shower,” Jaynine said. “Ugh.”
Jayonefive still didn’t quite get it, but Jaynine wasn’t listing out all the details again, of how the mirror began to bleed instants before she woke up and how she always considered, a moment before stabbing the mirror, whether it would be more efficient to sink the knife into her own stomach. And she certainly wouldn’t get into how she was never surprised to see the Austin in the mirror, how it felt inevitable, how the only surprise was waking up and realizing that she wasn’t an Austin after all, that she never would be.
Jaythree said, “Your dreams are boring, Jaynine. Don’t you kill enough Austins in real life to suit your appetite?”
“I haven’t heard of you having any better.”
“That’s because I know that talking about dreams is boring to everyone else in the room.”
“Shut it.”
* * *
When Jaynine was young, freshly out of the pod and willing to believe every theory the trainers handed her, she believed the original George Austin had been some sort of evil mob boss. She thought he had so much power that the original Valdez had been forced to destroy him any way that was possible. And after trying for years to assassinate him herself, she had decided on creating clones of herself to assist her in the job. All for justice’s sake and to prevent him from harming more innocent citizens. This, of course, would have been back in the day when there still were innocent citizens in the area, before the clone conflict grew so intense that everyone but the clones had abandoned the entire province for their own safety, and the only civilization left had been Fort Valdez and Fort Austin.
Now, though, Jaynine had a different opinion on the matter. Justice was all well and good, and she was sure that killing the Austins was just, but Valdez had probably had more than justice in mind. With the funding she must have had to create the clones and Fort Valdez and raise them to be the killers they were now, she could have easily hired mercenaries to take Austin out, even as many mercenaries as there were now clones, and it would possibly have been even cheaper.
But no. She had wanted to take Austin out with her own hands, flesh of her flesh and blood of her blood even if it was contained by a separate body, and so mercenaries had not been good enough. And that meant that whatever reason she had for hating Austin, it had been personal. Deeply personal.
Her own favorite theory? Austin and Valdez had been friends. And then Austin had turned out to be an utter skunk and betrayed Valdez. Maybe he had tried to kill her, maybe he had killed a friend, maybe he had never truly been a friend in the first place. Anyways, it had been bad enough to warrant his destruction, and somehow Valdez had gotten the power to see to it. A neat ending, except for the fact that somehow Austin had ended up able to produce clones as well, and so it had dragged on to the present day. Jaynine hoped it would end in this generation, Valdez’s vengeance. Hoped that if possible, she would be the one to kill the last Austin herself.
It was impossible to know if her theory was right, although many she knew shared it. Valdez was dead, and all who knew her were dead as well. The A clones dead, the B clones dead. There was one C left, Ceeonesixone, but she was senile and her words could not be trusted.
Still, Jaynine believed Austin and Valdez had been close. Most likely Valdez had even liked Austin. That was why she preferred knives. Surely it was not proper to snipe a former friend from a distance with no feeling in your heart and no personal risk. That would not have been carrying on the spirit of Valdez.
* * *
Apparently Jayonefive not only was stupid but couldn’t keep her mouth shut, because two days after their conversation Jaynine found herself in council member Efsixtwo’s office, explaining what exactly was wrong with her dreams and why it didn’t mean something was wrong with her.
“You’re imagining what it would be like to be an Austin,” Efsixtwo said.
“Yeah, well, I don’t see how that matters. I end up killing the Austin by the end of the dream. If anything you should commend me for my devotion,” Jaynine said. It always felt like by stabbing the mirror, she was still stabbing herself.
“You’re sympathizing with the Austins,” Efsixtwo said.
“I end up stabbing it.”
“After hesitating, you said. You almost kill yourself instead. Tell me, Valdez J-9, have you been feeling guilty lately?”
“What? No!” Jaynine said. As if. “Killing Austins is my reason for existence. It doesn’t make me feel guilty. It’s a pleasure.”
Efsixtwo shook her head. “Dreams tell us things we would never admit in waking hours, even to ourselves. You sympathize with the Austins, even if it’s subconscious.”
“I don’t.”
“Jaynine, it’s fine. Not everyone is made for hunting. The genes come through stronger in some than in others.”
Jaynine could have punched the woman. “I’m not exactly Jayleven!”
“I think you need some time off hunting. Some time to figure out how you feel about it,” Efsixtwo said. She held up a hand as Jaynine began to protest. “It doesn’t need to be permanent. We’ll talk again in a year or so. Until then, you will not leave the fort. You will be assigned to a new position.”
Not permanent! As if that made it any better. To go a year without hunting would kill Jaynine more surely than any overeager Austin ever could.
Jaythree was sympathetic. She stayed up with Jaynine on the nights that Jaynine ranted past midnight about the injustice of it all. She distracted Jaynine on the days when Jaynine was fit to burst with nervous energy and left unbothered would have spent all day throwing knives at a portrait of Austin she had pinned up on the wall, next to a copy of the credo.
Jaythree didn’t get it though, because she was still allowed on hunts, even though she had to go solo now.
“I miss you at my back,” she told Jaynine after the first solo hunt she went on.
Jaynine just snarled at her.
* * *
Some people said that there had been no feud between Valdez and Austin at all. That Austin had done nothing to arouse her wrath except exist. They claimed she had known from first sight that he was simply scum. Something about his appearance had set her off and for some reason he had proved hard to kill. He had simply been too disgusting to let live.
Jaynine never came close to believing that one for a simple reason: Austin wasn’t hideous. Of all the Austins she had ever met, she had never found one whose appearance could have been called disgusting.
Rather, the Austin face was strangely attractive. It was fairly plain, with its scattered freckles and chubby cheeks, but open. If she hadn’t already known Austins were monsters that needed to be exterminated she might have been tempted to sit down with an Austin and have a good long talk, maybe flirted. Although who knew-it wasn’t like Jaynine had ever met any other guys. Maybe she only thought the Austin form was attractive because it was the only male form she had ever known.
Now, the opposite theory she found plausible. Maybe even if Valdez hadn’t known Austin well she had known how exquisite his face would look twisted in pain, how devastatingly delicious it would be to soak the sand in his blood. But the credo didn’t support that version of events, so she supposed that was impossible.
* * *
When Jaythree didn’t come home one night after a solo hunt, Jaynine wasn’t immediately worried. She stayed up late though, waiting for her pickup helicopter to come in. But when Jayleven, the pilot of said helicopter, arrived at the fort, she said Jaythree had never arrived at the pickup site. And as she spoke, her voice quavered.
But anything could make Jayleven nervous.
Jaynine didn’t worry. No, she didn’t. She didn’t sleep much, but that didn’t mean she was worried. Jaythree could take care of herself. She was a beast in battle, as strong as Jaynine herself. And she had been carrying a rifle.
It was two days before she started wondering what could have happened in earnest. Four days before she admitted death as a possibility. Two weeks before she gave up.
The wasteland was not a kind place for a Valdez on her own.
A few G and H clones expressed their sympathy to her. The Jays mostly left her alone. She had always been so focused on Jaythree that she never bothered to get to know them well. They were her sisters too but she didn’t trust them like she trusted Jaythree. She couldn’t talk to them about her crazy dreams, as the Jayonefive incident had proved. She wouldn’t have wanted to count their scars and compare their sizes and shapes to her own. And they wouldn’t have understood how much more beautiful the sunset was when your hands were covered in Austin blood.
Strangely enough, the one Jay who kept on approaching her was Jayleven. A wimp, really, who had stopped hunting a year ago after getting squeamish, but somehow the only person unafraid to talk to her. It was almost funny.
She listened to Jaynine rant about Jaythree time and time again with no comment. Indeed, although she approached Jaynine often it seemed she had little to say until one day she brought up the topic of Jaynine’s disgrace.
“I heard about your dream,” she said. “The one where you become an Austin.”
Which hadn’t stopped recently, although it had been joined by dreams of killing Jaythree, stabbing her while the two of them laughed about how this wound would never leave a scar.
Jaynine snorted. “From Jayonefive, no doubt. It seems she told everyone.”
Jayleven nodded. “I thought it was interesting. That you could imagine being an Austin.”
“Certainly, as a nightmare,” Jaynine said.
“I can imagine it too,” Jayleven said. “We’re not all that different, you know.”
“Huh?”
“We’re both armies of clones with only one goal in life, left here by creators that never really explained what we’re doing,” Jayleven said. “We both struggle. We both die in hordes, and no one cares because the next generation is always there, and we’re all replaceable.”
“Well, when you put it like that, I guess there isn’t much of a difference,” Jaynine said. Except that the Valdez were superior and were going to win.
“There isn’t,” Jayleven said.
Jaynine laughed. “It’s funny, don’t you think? I’ve killed hundreds of men who could just as easily have been my brother.” And if she had actually been an Austin clone…Well, that was what her dream was about, wasn’t it? That would indeed have been a miserable existence.
“Not so funny,” Jayleven said. “A bit sad.”
It was indeed a bit sad to imagine that they could possibly have been Austins, a bit disturbing even. Well, they were lucky. Jaynine nodded. “It’s definitely something to think about. But you know, I wouldn’t talk like this to anyone else.” People got jumpy. She could get in trouble like Jaynine.
Jayleven said, “I won’t. But…can I talk to you about this again?”
Jaythree would have been open to talking about it. She was always open to talking about the strange thoughts that wandered in and out of Jaynine’s mind. So Jaynine said, “Sure. Anytime, babe.”
* * *
And Jayleven did talk to her about it again. And again. And again. And again. There was something worrying her about it, that was for sure. Jaynine tried to be nice about it. Jaythree, she knew, would have been nice. And besides, Jayleven was good company when she wasn’t being mushy.
Then one day Jayleven invited her on a helicopter ride.
“You know I’m not allowed outside the fort,” Jaynine said. “Because I’m not a hunter anymore. I’m grounded.”
“We both know the elders are wrong about some things,” Jayleven said. “What’s wrong with breaking a few rules? And I have something to show you.”
It was nice to see the clear sky again without fort walls bordering it. Jaynine didn’t regret taking Jayleven up on her offer. They talked about simple things, like the weather and the other Jays, as they flew, until they landed on a plateau.
“Nice view,” Jaynine said, stepping out of the cockpit.
“Yeah,” Jayleven said. “Um, I think I should warn you. We’re meeting someone here.”
“Oh.” Jaynine shrugged. “Fine by me.” If it was a pickup, she might get in trouble for being outside the fort. But how much more trouble could she get into? She already couldn’t hunt.
But no hunter arrived at the plateau. Instead, fifteen minutes later, another helicopter landed next to Jayleven’s. Jaynine didn’t recognize it.
She went to the door, Jayleven behind her, and saw a man in the cockpit.
A man with red hair and freckles.
“Hello,” said the man. “You must be Jaynine. Jayleven’s told me about you.”
“This is Elfourfour, Jaynine,” Jayleven said. “Um…I know he looks a bit young for an L but they’re ahead of us in production at Fort Austin. I met him in a hunt a year ago.”
Jaynine stepped aside from the door to let the man get out. He went over to Jayleven, standing as close to her as Jaynine had ever stood to Jaythree.
“We fought until we were both injured. It was obvious we would both die if we kept on fighting,” Jayleven explained. “So we called a truce, and we talked and, well…we’ve been meeting up since then.” The blush on her face added details to the brief story. That and the way she angled her body towards him, a strange combination of bashful and yet utterly comfortable.
Jaynine wondered, indifferently almost, if they were going to kiss.
“Jayleven’s told me about your talks,” the Austin said. “She says that you’re different from the other Valdez, that you think we could be alike. I think we are very alike. I’ve lived my life hunting down your kind, and you’ve lived your life hunting down mine. Now we’ve learned to look beyond ourselves, and neither of us hunt anymore. Now we can meet as friends.”
* * *
One theory as to the origin of the war was that Austin had actually been the one to start it. For some reason he had hated Valdez beyond all endurance, and he had started producing an army of clones. The Valdez army had been mere retaliation.
Jaynine didn’t believe it because the Austins were weak. She had killed more than a hundred in her time, probably more than two hundred. They lacked the drive that made Valdez clones excel. She had never once seen an Austin clone delight in a kill the way she did in hers, never seen them grin as they ran at her. They were all grim focus, lacking true rage. It was obvious that when they fought, they were thinking about survival. They weren’t thinking about inflicting pain. They weren’t thinking about the offenses of the original Valdez, however unknown, and thrilling in revenge.
Austin must have been weak too, then. Afraid of dying, he must have made his clones as a defense, or perhaps to carry on his legacy. And since they were not conceived in hate, the Austins couldn’t be as the Valdez were. They didn’t even understand why they were fighting.
This was the difference between Jaynine and the Austins: Jaynine understood. She had read the credo. She had it memorized. And she never forgot.
* * *
The Austin droned on for a while. Finally he held out a hand. “I am glad to meet you, Jaynine.”
Jayleven beamed.
Jaynine flipped the dagger out of the sheath on her thigh and stabbed him in the chest.
The horrified look of a dying Austin’s face never got old. She stabbed him twice more for good measure. He didn’t even go for a weapon. Maybe he didn’t have any weapons on him. He was no strong warrior anyways, talking about peace between the two of them like it was an actual possibility.
Jayleven was screaming.
The Austin fell on the sand when she was done, clutching at his chest. Jaynine stepped over him and slapped Jayleven across her cheek, a backhand. “Pull yourself together. I just ended your enemy.”
Jayleven stared at her, uncomprehending. “Why did you kill him?”
“Why did you love him? You couldn’t have imagined it would end well.”
“It could have,” Jayleven said. She swallowed hard, staring over Jaynine’s shoulder at the corpse. “It could have.”
“You can’t talk to Austins,” Jaynine said. “They said I was confused at the fort, a sympathizer, but you…I don’t even know what to call you.” She shook her head. “Maybe swine.”
Jayleven went down even easier than her stupid lover. Jaynine only had to stab her once, and she didn’t even scream. She did look a bit surprised as she toppled over, but honestly, what had she been expecting? No Valdez could stand treachery. That was one reason Jaynine would have bet money on Austin and Valdez originally being friends.
She half expected killing a Valdez to be different from killing an Austin, but it wasn’t. She laughed. Jayleven had called the Valdez and the Austins similar. Well, at least Jayleven was similar to an Austin. They were both scum, only good for killing. There was no guilt. She wiped her knife off on Jayleven’s shirt. Her hand she left bloody. She liked the feeling.
She didn’t know how to pilot the helicopter. She could have called for a pickup, perhaps. The elders might have believed her explanation of Jayleven’s body. If it came down to it, she could even have lied, claimed the Austin and Jayleven had killed each other. It would have been more believable than this farce.
But there was no reason to return to the fort. What was there for her? Sisters, but apparently even being a Valdez didn’t make you any better at heart.
Jaythree wouldn’t be there. She was the only good one.
And at the fort, there was no one to kill. And Jaynine liked hunting.
There were rations in the helicopters. Not much, but enough for a few days. She made a bundle of them and started walking. Out here, in the wasteland, she would find a hunt whether it was forbidden her or not. She would satisfy the blood thirst the original Valdez had instilled in her veins. And perhaps she would find Jaythree, even if only in death.
