Nora stared blankly into the burning rubbish bin. It had been five months. Five long months. Food was scarce, leaving a constant uncomfortable pain in her stomach. Finding the next meal, however, was easier than finding shelter. One could never live in one place too long nowadays. Someone was bound to find you, and since the only human interaction she had seen recently was criminal, she avoided others at all costs. The water she drank came mostly from the dirtied river. The air was just as dirty here, making it hard for her to breathe. Nora had never been good with small spaces, and now, she felt trapped within herself.
Still, her life wasn't all bad. At least it remained with her. She had no clue whether or not her friends or family were still alive. She had no way of finding out. Part of her had stopped caring last month, when she had seen Mitch, the one man she had come to trust, finally succumb to hypothermia. Another part longed to see her Lee again. She placed a hand on her stomach. That was the first thing she had done. Get rid of the child. She couldn't look after a baby if she could barely survive herself.
She sighed. It had been five months. Five long months. She stood, leaving the warmth of the crackling five to stop by the river. Though it was night, the city lights illuminated her face. A canvas of red and brown, blood and dirt. A lock of brown hair fell into her eyes. She pushed it aside, and attempted to use the filthy water to clean her filthier features.
She wanted nothing to do with this 'New London.' The whole idea of breeding asexual clones for slave labor had never especially appealed to her, but clones didn't have the life expectancy or brains of a normal person. Nora believed that a soul could not be copied, that a person was more than just a few physical features, and that clones only mimicked that. Heaven was a place that clones didn't belong. They were simply a cheap imitation of life.
Clones had, almost four years ago, broken into the population. Gender checks started cropping up, along with their 'originals' identification cards. The clones managed to worm their ways into the military, taken company leaders out, and stolen political seats. To everyone who was human, it came as a total shock, but it had been festering in the city for much longer than they had realized. Now, falsies were the city.
Nora rubbed her eyes and moved to her make shift bed, a tattered blanket she had stolen. She would be getting three hours sleep tonight. If a clone caught her, she would be brought into their judicial system and, no doubt, she would be found guilty of something preposterous, like theft. She pulled up the blanked around herself.
* * *
When she awoke, Nora quickly checked her watch. The battery was nearly dead, and the time had to be reset fairly often. If she was correct about how off it currently was, it was five, one hour before city wide wake up. Perfect timing. She gathered her things: her blanket, her human identity card, and the little money she had left, and quietly snuck back to the slums of the city. No person in their right mind would actually sleep in the slums. Crime rates were so high that the police wouldn't even come near the area. Not that any of the middle or upper class gave a thought about the people here. That was the problem, though. There weren't any humans in the middle or upper class. They had been driven out by steering, lack of work, and simply quitting the new, clone system. Nora bent over, and picked up a newspaper that was lying raggedly on the ground. Granted, that didn't mean that the slums didn't have clones.
DRUS BACK IN BUSINESS
After five months of work on the DNA Replicating Units, scientist and engineer Pavlov Petretchky has finally fixed the cloning machines known as DRU. "We have been working for a long time now, but we still have work to do to extend the range of life, learning capacity, and eliminate the physical weakness we have, like sickness" said Petretchky.
Nora put down the newspaper. The DRUs were back. There were more falsies coming to the streets, and they would grow to be stronger than humans. She should have moved to Australia. One of the few countries that remained almost completely absent of clones. Russia and Japan were both offering Human-Clone Havens, for both peoples. China had once more gone into complete isolation. Canada and Germany were on neither side, and Nora had a hard time figuring out exactly what their take was. France, Spain, the United States, and England were all falling under clone might. East Europe was completely controlled. The Middle East was selling to whoever would buy from them, which was, essentially, everyone.
Nora watched a man being robbed—No, wait. He was being stabbed, because he wasn’t cooperating with the robbery. Graffiti on the walls displayed messages of Anchors Rule and Bread: two of the gangs that were on the rise in the streets. A woman was running frantically down the street. A man with a hungry look in his eye followed her viciously. Nora turned away. She had no need to see that. Continuing down the street, she saw multiple poorly concealed knives and side-arms.
Nora didn't have friends anymore. She couldn't trust anyone. Even if she saw Leo, she couldn't trust that it would be him, and not just a falsie. She sighed, and walked on. The sun would be appearing now, if it could have been seen through the thick wall of clouds. She was surprised it was not already pouring. As if on cue, she felt a little wet droplet caress her.
* * *
Soaking wet, Nora stumbled down the street. She gazed longingly at a man under a roof with a can of food stuck in his hand. This needs to end. The thought, once more, made its debut in her mind. It seemed stronger, somehow, now more than ever. Ideas spun and whirled, locking into place. She would take back London. The first thing she'd need would be people. Enough people to overthrow the clones. She'd need gender checks, to tell who was clone and who wasn't. She'd need to avoid public eye until the right time. She'd need people who were strong, and people who were intelligent, to plan an attack.
Nora stopped. She wasn't a leader. Neither was she a people person. If she wanted to take down the clones, she wouldn't have to find a leader. Someone who could speak for her. Someone who she could trust.
* * *
Over the course of the next few months, Nora began to talk to people. It became easier and easier to tell who was friend and who was faux. Tiny differences. The way someone walked or talked or moved. But they were plain as day once she noticed them. Still, it took her several months to find anyone who had the strength of mind to lead Sanguis Originem Vitae, the named of her new one-woman resistance.
Walter P. Gates, when Nora first met him, was giving stale bread to some small children. He put it into their hands with a sweet, but strained smiled. It was his food. Food he had probably planned to eat himself, she realized. Falsies were not that kind, she knew. Nevertheless, she watched him to find out if he was a clone or not. His movements seemed partly clone, and partly human. It was probably because he had spent so long under their rule. She walked up to him.
"Hello," she said, or tried to say. Her voice was cracked, quiet, and hoarse. She hadn't spoken much, if it all, in the last year. She probably had laryngitis to boot. He hadn't heard her; she tried again, clearing her throat and yelling "Hello!" The word came out in a bare whisper.
He turned, "Good Lord, you look like the plague," he stretched his hand out to her, "Come with me, I'll take you somewhere warm, and you can rest up." Nora tried to protest, but he took her with him anyway. His idea of a 'warm place' was a battered old building toward the outskirts of the inner city. It took her a month to fully recover, and exercise her voice back to health. During that time, she learned much of Walter. He hadn't lived an especially happy life. His first wife had left him after their kids died in a car crash. His company had collapsed, and since, he couldn't find work. When the clones took over, he was already at the bottom of the ladder. He was returning 'home' one day with some food.
"Walter?"
"Yes, Nora?"
"Why are you doing this?"
"I help people who need helping. That's just kind of the kind of guy I am." He set the food down on the floor. A bag fell over, and Walter bent over to pick up some can that had fallen out. Nora stood, and was about to try to help, but he waved her away.
"Why, though? What do you get out of it?"
"I get to meet people like you." Walter stood, holding a few cans dangerously in his arms. She watched his eyes. They were set, straight into hers. A moment passed. Then another. She was having a hard time telling whether the moments were hours or only minutes. Someone, outside, fired a gun. She shook her head, and turned away. She liked him. But she wasn't sure if that was because of his look or personality. She had to find out first. And she knew exactly how.
* * *
One day in late August, Nora decided to tell Walter her plan. It took a bit of courage to muster up, but she spit it out.
"Walt. I want this heart ache, this pain, to end."
"I'm all for that," he replied absentmindedly.
"We can exterminate the problem. Get rid of the clones. That might restore thing to the way they once were."
Walter froze. It was only a second, but he froze, "That's… that's genocide."
"It's only genocide if they count as living, breathing entities. Clones are only empty, soulless imitations of life. It's not genocide."
"A life is something that is self aware, Nor. Where are you getting this from?"
"Life for the rest of us wasn't so bad before the clones."
"It was for me. It hasn't changed for some of us."
"But for most humans it has. You're against our uprising?"
"I'm not a support of any uprising, whether it's clone or original."
"Everything's a war now, you have to choose a side, or get caught in the crossfire."
"I'd prefer to stay off the battlefield."
"And if we lose? What then? What if the clones take over, and kill every single on of us?"
"What if we could reach an understanding? Japan is doing very well. Why can't London? Why can't we?"
"Japan is absent of moral and full of sin."
"Sin? If it is sin to pick up another off their feet, let them be sheltered and heal, I am a sinner," he stared directly at her.
"It is a sin to aid the soulless."
"Who says they're soulless?"
"You can't artificially create a soul."
"You can't? So the love they feel isn't love? The pain they feel isn't pain? When they rejoice, are they not happy?"
"Goddamn you, you... you falsie lover!" Walter stared at her with a sort of fixed expression.
"Get out." His eyes dug into her like bullets. "Get out. Right now."
Nora searched his eyes. She found fear. "Fine, be that way." She picked up her blanket, and walked out stiffly. It hurt. She had hoped she could trust him. Now, she wasn't even sure if she would even survive the next few weeks without clone police taking her out. They may not come here, but traitors were never tolerated, now or in the past. She had to start the cogs before it was too late.
* * *
Nora never did find a leader for Sanguis Originem Vitae. She gave up when she heard France has completely fallen. She was done waiting for a leader. If no one else would do it, she would have to. It didn't take her too long to find a few men and women willing to fight with her. Slowly, she developed an army in the underground. Its size was never truly known, it just kept growing, the army of thieves and beggars. Her right hand was a man who went by the name 'Kard.' It wasn't his really name, but he was only ever called Kard. The guy was violent, but she let it flow. It was actually useful, as long as she managed to keep him under the radar until they were ready.
It took about a year. They estimated they held half the slum's populace in the resistance. The inner city even began to start fixing itself. Nora had become both a militant and economic leader, preaching equality for all humans. She was correcting everything.
And then she thought of Walter. She could rise up, and take over the city, but she didn't have to go out and kill all of the falsies. She could establish relations with them, sigh treaties, live in harmony, like Japan or Russia. She could make deals with France, East Europe, Spain, and the States, to try to promote equality all around. She could deliver the world from its prejudice and bigotry. She could rid the world of its hate. Hate that she, herself, felt. Hate that could, so easily, be justified. Deliver. As if she was a religious figure. She hadn't been thinking about unity or Japan. She had been thinking about Walter. Curse her and her disloyal thoughts. Curse him and his ways. It was his fault that his was a falsie lover. It was all his fault.
She stood. A knock at the door. "Ma'am," said a gruff voice, Kard's voice, "We're having some… problems. The people want to know when we're making our move." Nora smiled. She opened the door. Kard looked at her. Nora nodded. It was all he needed. The two of them walked out into a crowded mass of uncountable people. Speakers had been set up in the streets, hidden from sight. She stepped up to a microphone.
"People of London; Humans of London. For two years, now, we have lived under clone rule. After we gave them the gift of life, or whatever they have, they took it from us, forced us into slums, and treated us like their subordinates. No more. It's time, now, to take back our city, our country, and make it great again. It starts with us, here, now, with Sanguis Originem Vitae, the freedom fighters. It ends with the last falsie we see. It's time to decide where your loyalties lie, with us, or with them. Tonight, we begin our liberation! Tonight, we end falsie rule!" Cheers erupted from the crowd, "Go forth!"
The crowd began spilling out, into the rest of the city, guns and knifes out, shouting "Down with the falsies! Kill the clones!" Kard ran out, into the crowd. Nora watched as the last few evacuated the slum. She grinned wickedly. He plan, her dream, was coming true.
"Nora." She recognized the voice, "Nora, Nora, Nora. What have you done?"
"Do you regret it?" she tried her best to gloat, "Saving me? Bringing me back to health? Do you regret it?" In part, the question was sincere.
Not for a second," Nora spun, and stared at Walter. He only had to read her face. "A life is a life, no matter how it is lead, Nor. All life is equal in my eyes, whether you're clone, original, lover, or hater."
"We gave them life, they gave us slavery."
"I'm not saying what was done was right, but this is genocide. If only you could see that. Clones are people. They have emotions and lives and—"
"No they aren't. They're a lie, the absence of fact." Walter stared at her. He stepped closer, and closer, and closer.
"So often we don't understand until we see something sitting plainly out in the open," he spoke in a deep, barely audible whisper. He kissed her. She sunk into him, butter in a frying pan, "For some reason," he said, pulling away, "I love you. I mean, you're rude and so young, but I love you. A bit of an irony, I suppose."
"Walt, I love you too, but—"
"No, Nor, you don't. You can't love something you hate so much," Nora took a step back, "And apparently, I can't love either. Do you really believe that? That I can't love you?" Nora shook her head. No, something was wrong. She never guessed wrong. It wasn't possible.
"No, no you aren't. You aren't. I don't believe you."
"I am the clone of a man named Alexander Tanning. When he and his children died in a car accident, his wife tried to replace him with me. But I wasn't like him. Oh, some basic points were similar, but we were very different people. His wife never could see me without seeing him, or his kids. She left."
"No, you're not a falsie."
"I am a falsie," she could see the pain on his face. She turned away, "I'm a false, and you don't understand how I could possibly love anything. Please, Nora, get this through your head, and maybe we can move towa—"
Nora's eyes jumped to Walter's. He fell, slowly, to the ground. She knelt by him, "Walter? No. Walter, please don't leave me. Walter?"
"Ow," he said, shaking his head, and then stopping, after realizing the action brought him pain, "Nora, you need to make this world a peaceful one, with clones and originals. Not all clones are like me, and not all humans are like you. It won't be easy. Please, Nora, I… I…" his head dropped.
"You shouldn't let a falsie near you, ma'am." Kard had returned, and was standing over her. She glanced up at him, down to the body, and stood up. The blood that came from his throat as he struck the ground had an odd glint. She couldn't tell the difference between Walter's blood and Kard's.
She threw her knife away. She wouldn't need it any longer. She had to stop the attacks. Try to calm the masses. She had to make clones and originals see eye to eye. After a few minutes, she realized she was no longer in the inner city. The army had destroyed the area. Countless bodies lay in the streets. A few were still breathing, though not for very much longer. Blood decorated the streets like graffiti. A clap of thunder. The rain had come to wash away the stains of the city. But there was more to clean up than just these wounds.
Nora reached a crowd, "the prime minister is inside a bunker," she was told by one of the 'soldiers.' She began to shout for a ceasefire. She reached the bunker doors, and yelled, "We have called a ceasefire. I am Nora Archfield, the leader of this army. I have come to make you an offer." The door opened. Nora entered the structure, her hands well above her head. Government soldiers received her, and patted her down for weapons. Multiple times.
The Prime Minister was a woman, a clone, named Katherine Hall. She was a relatively old woman, and her hair dye did a terribly job of masking it. She, however, had much pack in her punch than anyone else Nora had met. Or course, it was probably all about her aura. Her actual strength was mostly likely nothing, compared to what she made it seem.
Katherine Hall looked extremely disheveled and irritable. "What is it?" she said, not looking up from the cluster of papers on her desk. A guard standing behind her clutched his rifles tightly.
"There's a crowd of people out their yelling for clone blood, ma'am. I want to make them stop." Katherine stopped her work, and gazed at Nora for a few indeterminable seconds.
"My guards say you're the leader of the mob. Why would you, of all people, want them to stop? Shouldn't you be out there, trying to shoot down the door?"
"No, it's childish. All this pain is childish. We made a mistake by creating your for enslavement, and you made a mistake when you tried to take over the world. What we need to do, right now, is come to an agreement. We need to live in unity and harmony."
"Like Japan or Russia?" Katherine eyed Nora suspiciously.
"Just like them," Nora turned, looking at a globe on a shelf in the wall, "It won't be easy, or simple. Not in the slightest. But we can create a world free of all this pain and hatred towards clones and originals. We can cure this disease. Not a disease of originals. Not a disease of clones. But the disease of hate.
Katherine stared at her. Even with all the time Nora had spent watching both clones and originals, she could not read the Prime Minister's face. Then she saw it. It was a small gesture, but she saw it. A flicker of her mouth. "You're right," Nora took a breathe, "We need to help the world to become accepting of everyone."
Nora smiled. The noises from the mob could be heard loud and clear. "First," she said, "we need to quell this mob."
* * *
Nora stood on a podium. The people were still riled up from their riot. "People of London: Originals and Clones, Welcome. Earlier today, I told you we needed to take back our city. That wasn't exactly true. We own this city, no one is debating that. But the clones have just as much a right to it as we do. They have lives and feeling and emotions. They…" she stumbled, choked, and continued, "They love. And as such, we need to love them. Be equal. To kill them all would be genocide. We cannot let ourselves become the barbarians we told ourselves the clones are. Equality for the masses! Be friends, be brothers and sisters!" she paused, again, and whispered, "Be lovers."
The crowd was silent. A few shouts of "Falsie lover!" "Traitor" and "She's been cloned!" hung deep in the otherwise empty air. But they didn't catch. They just died out, into the mist.
Then, it started. Someone started clapping. Then someone else. It grew from a drizzle to a thunderstorm. Nora sighed in relief. She raised her hands, "Citizens of London," she said, "Let's go change the world."
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