inalienable rights CHAPTER TWELVE
Marin pulled her sweater tightly around herself and blinked a few times, trying to focus her 3 a.m. insomnia on the list of tedious post-procedural questions she was supposed to answer. She checked column after column of "yes" and "no" boxes, penned a series of summaries, and documented her vital signs and a series of fluid samples before slugging down the last of the coffee that had been sitting in the pot since that afternoon. She began gathering the various papers she'd scattered across the hub's conference table and sliding them into files. Only after all the evidence was safely tucked out of sight did Marin fully exhale. She picked up her empty coffee cup and pulled her knees up to her chest, bracing her feet against the edge of the table as she glanced up at the clock on the wall.
It's been almost two hours. Marin didn't want to admit that Clark was right all along, that she couldn't approach this as an empirical experiment and expect to still see it that way afterward. She'd showered quickly after Clark left and attacked the paperwork in hopes of distraction, but she couldn't hide inside herself, because the emptiness was hiding there too.
"So, how does it feel to actually be able to say you were probed in an alien experiment?" Dr. Ripley intruded on Marin's mental decompression with his signature abrasiveness.
"You are positively vile, Ethan."
Dr. Ripley raised an eyebrow. "Is that all you got?"
Marin heaved a sigh and unfolded herself from the chair. "To what do I owe the displeasure of the company of the Untalented Mr. Ripley?"
"That's more like it." Dr. Ripley nodded agreeably.
Marin let her cup clatter onto the coffee cart. "Okay, what do you want?"
"What makes you think I want anything?"
"It's three-thirty in the morning, Dripley. Shouldn't you be getting your beauty sleep?"
"I couldn't sleep."
Marin gave Dr. Ripley's over-eager grin a critical review, and realized exactly why he was there. "Geez, you are sick! You came out here thinking I’d what - kiss and tell?"
Dr. Ripley shrugged. "It was an experiment, you have a duty to report your findings."
"Look, if you thought we'd share a pizza and some girl talk, you're even more deluded than I think you are. And I think you're pretty deluded."
"Marin, you're being irresponsible."
"No, I'm not. I filed my report already. Anything you need to know is in the report. If anything isn't in there, you don't need to know it." Marin shot him a look that a more scrupulous man would have realized carried an intense desire to see him drawn and quartered. "You can read it if you want to. I'm going to bed."
Clark sat fully dressed on the neatly made bed, trying to stop listening beyond the walls that surrounded him, yet unable to will himself to do so. He'd been listening since long before Dr. Ripley assaulted Marin with his crude insensitivity. He'd heard the sound of Marin's pen scratching out her account of the experience, and he heard the monumental effort it took for her to swallow her coffee past the growing lump of sadness in her throat. He even heard the sobs she tried to stifle despite the roar of water from her shower.
Clark was suffering from an indefinable confusion. He felt something that wasn't exactly regret, something that wasn't exactly relief, and something else that wasn't exactly pleasure. He knew he'd felt each of those things individually at different moments, but in combination they stripped him of coherent thought and left him feeling isolated.
Overrun with too many thoughts, Clark stretched out face-down on the narrow mattress and buried his face in the pillow, praying that if sleep came, it would be dreamless.
Marin silently breathed the same prayer for dreamless sleep, but when it finally overcame her it was anything but blank. She slept fitfully, haunted by images of Clark and all the things she'd felt for and because of him. At last she woke, surprised to find that it was already nine o'clock, and was simultaneously struck with the fear that Clark had left already, and the fear that he was still there. She hated it when her emotions were so duplicitous.
She groaned and rolled out of bed, pulled her hair into a ponytail and advanced cautiously into the hallway. She found Dr. Ripley in the hub with open files arranged on the table on front of him. Guessing it was her report, Marin glowered and picked up the empty coffee pot. "Would it have killed you to make some coffee, Ethan?"
"Why, just for you?" Dr. Ripley didn't look up from his work.
"Just me? Where's everybody else?" Where's Clark?
"Dr. Crosby is escorting Dr. Swann back to New York, and Andrea went home about an hour ago. It's Sunday, remember? The special session in Clark's honor is over. "
"Why are you still here?"
"I'm just assembling the data so I can work on it over the break."
""The break?"
Dr. Ripley glanced up smugly. "Are you sure your little experiment had no ill effects? The one-week hiatus, genius. Dr. Crosby can't be here to supervise until next Monday, and she doesn't want the mice to play while the cat's away."
"Oh yeah," Marin nodded glumly. "Yeah, I'm going to visit my parents."
"Uh, yippie for you."
"You're an ass, Ethan."
"What was that for?"
"Oh, just for being you," Marin replied with an exaggerated smile. "Um… when did Clark leave?" Marin knew she was opening herself up for another one of Dr. Ripley's wildly inappropriate jabs, but she didn't care.
"He hasn't yet."
Marin's heart did a cartwheel in her chest. "Oh?"
"Well, he's not here, but he hasn't gone home yet. He went out for coffee."
As if on cue, the elevator opened to reveal Clark, holding a plastic bag and a paper cup. "Hi," he greeted with a bright smile as he stepped into the hub. He held the cup out to Marin. "I got you some coffee."
Marin smiled, relieved, and accepted the cup. "Thanks, Clark. You didn't have to do that." Her smile faded when Clark drew a PowerAde from the plastic bag and offered it to Dr. Ripley. Even Ethan isn't below Clark's consideration. Why would it mean anything that he went to get me coffee?
"Well, I'd better go get my stuff." Clark turned down the hall to pack his bag.
"I need some air," Marin announced to nobody in particular, and walked down the long back hallway to the garage elevator.
She'd been leaning against the back of the store for about ten minutes, watching her breath turn white as she exhaled into the morning air, and clutching the hot cup to keep her hands warm. She heard the elevator chime inside the garage. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, hoping that maybe if she didn't see Clark, she wouldn't have to talk to him. Maybe he'd sheepishly sneak away like a normal guy, if she wasn't looking. Then she heard his voice. Crap.
"Marin?"
She opened her eyes and pretended to be surprised to see him there, looking younger than he had last night, with his red jacket and the small duffle bag slung over his shoulder. "Oh, hi Clark." She made a great show of very nonchalantly sipping her coffee. Clark stepped close to her, and her pulse involuntarily quickened. An awkward half-smile curled up one side of Clark's mouth, and Marin found herself transfixed by his lips.
"I just… I uh - I wanted to say thank you… so… thank you."
Marin looked down at the gravel around her shoes. "Oh, yeah - you're welcome." She sounded warmer than she felt.
"And I'm sorry."
Marin jerked her head up sharply. "What are you sorry for?"
Clark looked up and around, anywhere but at her. He drew in an icy breath and let it out slowly, and finally let his own gaze settle on the gravel as well. "I just am."
Marin nodded and crumbled a little more. Of course he is. She felt remorseful tears rising and was about to turn away to hide them, but then she felt Clark's lips on her cheek. She froze and in her shock the instant seemed to last forever, which wasn't long enough.
Clark pulled back and stood up straight, looking as if the kiss had surprised him just as much as her. "I'm sorry - it was just an impulse, I - it was a weird thing to do, wasn't it?"
Marin shook her head emphatically. "No, no, it was fine - really, it's okay." She smiled inwardly. "It was… nice."
Clark looked doubtful, but nodded slightly and pulled his bag higher onto his shoulder. "Well, I should go."
"Yeah, yeah. Have a safe trip." Dummy!
Clark smiled. "I'll try. 'Bye Marin."
"Goodbye, Clark." Marin touched a hand to her cheek and watched Clark Kent walk away.
ONE WEEK LATER Marin waved at the clerk behind the register of the antique shop as she walked through the store and into the tiny office, making her way back to the lab. She was a day early, but she couldn't take one more minute of her mother asking why she seemed so "down in the dumps." In truth, she was beginning to feel better - there was just a lingering ache in the place in her heart that she futilely wished Clark would fill, but she knew he couldn't.
The ache grew a bit when she unlocked her bunker and the memories in it, but she suppressed it and began to unpack. She was deep in thought and didn't hear it when a knock sounded on the frame of her open door.
"Marin? Earth to Marin Blake!"
Marin jumped and dropped an armload of laundry at the sound of the voice, and spun to find Dr. Ripley leaning against her wall. "Damn it, Ethan! What are you doing here? You're early." She turned and continued to unpack.
"You're early too."
"Well I live here, freak. I wanted to get settled back in before we get back to work. What's your excuse?"
Dr. Ripley's eyes gleamed mischievously. "I want to show you something."
"What?"
"It's in the exam room."
Marin rolled her eyes. "Ethan, I'm really tired, I just want to unpack and go to sleep."
"It won't take long, I promise."
"Will you leave me alone then?"
"Yep, I'll give you the whole night off - no bugging you."
"Fine," Marin relented, leaving her half-unpacked suitcase on her bed. "Let's go."
Dr. Ripley lead her down the hall to the same exam room where they had triggered Clark's anti-gravity episode. "So, what's this all about?" Marin asked impatiently when they were both inside.
"Just a minute, I have to set it up." Dr. Ripley rifled around amongst his instruments. "So, Marin, I was wondering - do you think you might be pregnant?"
"What?"
"Just making small-talk."
"That's not small-talk, that's… that's very big talk. And completely inappropriate."
Dr. Ripley shrugged like he so often did, as if none of his offensive behavior was ever more than an off-hand comment that people took too seriously. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."
"You're just plain nuts, Ethan!"
"Come on, we all know you're infatuated with Clark. You're half the reason Andrea was so against the trial - she knew you'd volunteer, and she knew you wouldn't be able to live with it, because you couldn't keep him."
"You're going way too far, Ripley!" Marin cried. "What makes you think you have the right to talk to me like this?"
"Have you thought it might be easier for you?" He started to look more menacing, and Marin had the distinct impression that he had a specific purpose in his line of questioning.
"What would be easier?"
"Having his baby. Being able to keep a part of him." He was so matter-of-fact.
Marin barely managed to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Think about it, Marin!" Dr. Ripley leered at her, and circled around to cut her off from the doorway. "He doesn't have to be the only one! You could be the mother of the next step in human evolution!"
Marin's eyes widened as the horror of his insinuation struck her. "That's why you pushed so hard for this! You engineered this whole thing, didn't you? You brought it up to Andrea, she admitted being curious but she thought it was a bad idea - you manipulated us so you could - what? What do you get out of this?"
"The thrill of discovery!"
"Discovering what?" Marin kept her eyes on Dr. Ripley, but felt along the counter behind her for something sharp.
"Everything! The chance to follow the gestation of an alien life-form? Observe it's interactions with human biology? And in early childhood - well, suppose the Kents had been better equipped to expose Clark to stimuli that may have uncovered various powers at an earlier age? If we can initiate those kinds of responses in his child, it may never matter that it's half human! Over time we could breed a race of Krypto-human hybrids - impervious to pain and illness - a super-race!"
Marin's initial shock resurfaced, and brought nausea with it. "Why would you possible want that? A civilization of genetically superior beings? Does the name Hitler mean anything to you?"
Dr. Ripley grabbed Marin's shoulders and moved in on her until their noses almost touched. "I'm not talking about an army of Ken-doll wannabes bent on oppressing the weaker of the species, I'm talking about a new species - one that can withstand this planet once we've finished weakening it. A time will come when it won't be able to sustain the kind of life that it does now, and that will mean human extinction. But don't you see Marin, it doesn't have to! Clark is the key - you must understand, a resource like him can't be treated like an Area 51 project. His reproduction is necessary, his descendants will be survivors, maybe his blood - and likewise their blood - could be used to develop biopharmaceuticals to genetically alter animals too. And he essentially recharges his strength through modified photosynthesis, so we may even be able to alter plants - but we need to be able to study him, or at least his offspring. There are so many possibilities! He could literally save the world, Marin!" Dr. Ripley's intensity had reached a fever pitch, and his grip on Marin's arms was paralyzing.
"You can't force the planet to evolve," Marin managed to whisper weakly, awash with Dr. Ripley's horrible revelation.
"On the contrary - I think there's a point at which human intelligence is meant to take over for the 'survival of the fittest' mentality. Humankind will not survive, unless we force it to." Dr. Ripley smiled at her then, almost benevolently. "That's why I need you, Marin."
She hated looking weak, but she couldn't stop the tears from streaming over her face. "Why?"
"I need your baby. Yours and Clark's."
Marin almost laughed at the absurdity of the idea. "I'm not having a baby, you psychopath!"
Dr. Ripley was eerily serene and unphased. "Yes, you are."
"Oh, you know something I don't?"
Dr. Ripley's grin was sickening. "Yes, I do." Without warning, he bodily scooped Marin up and had half-strapped her to the exam table before she realized what he'd done.
"Let me go!"
"I will, very soon, just calm down and this will be easier for you."
"What are you going to do to me?" Marin pulled against the restraints, but she was held fast.
"Remember the EF-19 trials, Marin?" Dr. Ripley was collecting a few vials and petrie dishes together. "In the early tests, the subjects lost consciousness for nearly twenty-four hours, and sometimes lost a week's worth of memories."
Marin burst into sobs. "What did you do to me?"
"You were a very compliant test subject, Marin."
"What did you do to me?"
"You know what's so great about being a biogeneticist in the private sector, with nobody watching over your shoulder to make sure you're following FDA procedure? You can develop better ways to do things, and faster ways - and you don't have to wait for FDA approval to use them. Things like - well, like harvesting eggs for in-vitro fertilization, for example. I can do it with no hormone protocol, non-invasively - virtually painlessly and with much better yields." Dr. Ripley was bragging now, as he went to a small refrigerator and took out a glass vial.
"You harvested my eggs!" Marin screamed.
"Shh, calm down - it's in the interest of science, isn't it? I thought you were prepared to sacrifice anything to help Clark discover his true potential."
"You stole my eggs."
"Yes, well, progress isn't always very ethical. They were safe though - cryopreservation has come a long way. And of course I have all I need from Clark, of his own free will."
"No!"
"The embryos are ready. Don't worry, implanting is the easy part."
"No!" Marin screamed and tried in vain to twist out of the leather straps, but to no avail.
Dr. Ripley sat next to Marin and raised up the vial he'd taken from the fridge.
Marin caught a glimpse of the label. EF-19.
Dr. Ripley drew the liquid into a syringe. "Don't worry about any of this, Marin. You won't remember a thing."
Marin fought as best she could, but lost the battle to the needle in her arm as the world slipped away.