Hypergeniture Bk. 01 Pt. 03

At midnight, I left the twins' room.

I was naked and unashamed of it when I woke up from our early afternoon slumber. I was also wide-awake, so I pulled on some clothes.

Realising we'd left the door open all the while, I cursed myself... Fuck.

It was my job to make sure we were more careful than that! On my way out, I gently shut them, checking the corridor for any curious eyes.

The lights around the penthouse were either off or dimmed as I took a stroll through each room. Housekeeping had closed most of the shades, but here and there, ambient light from the city cast a glow over monochrome interiors.

Alicia was right about the place being beautiful. Everything had a purpose and everything was hand-selected, but not by the woman who would've been my mother. No, if she had designed the place, it would've been functional but ugly. That was her philosophy; not mine. I wanted to use the money she left behind to make something beautiful and pragmatic. It's what I wanted for my sisters. It's what I wanted for myself.

The girls were still first in my mind, but for the first time ever, I gave thought to what I needed and wanted from life. My grand plan for life may have been upended by shock after shock, but that didn't mean I wasn't in a better place than I would've been. Despite almost getting killed.

The night before, I learned that love could be infinite. That afternoon, I learned something more practical... I had new tools to help me run the family -- to keep everything running smoothly. A blowjob here, or maybe an erotically charged spanking there... I would never have dreamed of it, but now dreams I never had were becoming reality faster than my imagination could conceive them.

Reaching my bedroom, I found two women waiting for me. Alicia had a folder in her hands, watching the door and waiting for me. Meanwhile, Skylar looked out the windows, searching for even the slightest disturbance in the massive metropolis around us.

"Evening, sir," my head of security greeted.

"Good evening you two. What's up?"

Alicia explained that they had the results from Natasha's 'psychometric' test. We had convinced her that this was something all employees went through before taking on their roles. The truth was a little more complicated than that...

Years ago, a group of psychiatrists came together and conducted a study. They took 100 people and made them write a test designed to look like a perfectly normal personality questionnaire. Half the group were given a secret to keep, being told that they'd be asked about this secret, but not being told how. The other half weren't told anything.

When both groups did the test, it was clear from the results that the first group had something to hide, based on their answers. In theory, this could be used outside a controlled setting to make conclusions about people's hidden agendas.

Reading Natasha's results made my tongue swell and eyes bulge. They had concluded she was keeping something hidden. Something criminal.

"Bullshit!" I mumbled. "This is pseudo-scientific crap, Alicia. I'm not going to use this as the basis for my opinions."

"It matches our suspicions, sir. I agree that the methodology is... Interesting. Still, I think they're onto something. The rest of the report highlights other finding they've made on the information we gave them."

I scanned over the next few paragraphs. We had a dozen psychologists, criminologists, and ex-federal agents analysing one woman. The idea that I needed that much help to understand someone I'd known my whole life left a lump in my throat. Yet, I couldn't argue with their findings... It all seemed plausible.

"What's our next move?" I asked.

Alicia was reluctant to be specific; she wanted me to make a final decision. "All we can really do is keep observing her. Once we find out who she's been in contact with, we'll need to do consequence management."

"Consequence management..."

Those words left a bitter taste in my mouth. Pulling my hair back, I made a dark realisation. "If she does turn out to be a traitor... We can't exactly hand her over to the police..."

Skylar saw me wrestle with what would need to happen. "We're not there, yet," she counselled. "Let's first get final confirmation, sir."

Alicia clarified further. "Once we know, we'll manage the risk responsibly. The chances are she's being blackmailed, so maybe we can help her."

I shook my head and turned away from the two women, moving to where Skylar was standing when I found them. "If she told people where to find me -- how to get at me -- I don't want to help her. Imagine! Elle and Tecla without their brother and Eve without her son! I'm the one who needs to take care of them! I'm the one who needs to give them a better life, and she wanted to take that away? Kill me, fine... Kill me! But don't hurt my family because I will destroy you!"

Sweat was dripping down my brow and my hands were shaking. During my tirade, I'd lost my voice and lost my footing. I was seething with rage I should've released a long time ago. Putting a hand against the windows that overlooked Singapore -- the Little Red Dot -- I tried to compose myself. I failed.

Alicia walked over to me and put a hand on my back. "We'll handle this, sir. Trust in your team to make everything work in the end."

"I do trust you, Alicia. I trust you too, Skylar. But, I wish I could trust Natasha -- I wish that I hadn't grown to hate her. I wish... All I want to do is focus on the good. There's so much good, but this drags me down into a dark place even as light floods into the world!"

Slamming my fist against the glass, I made Alicia flinch. She took a step away from me before stepping forward again. I could sense she wanted to hug me, but we both knew she wouldn't. We gave each other a smile; hers strong and mine a little weaker. Yes, we both knew we wanted to give each other a little hug, but those smiles would suffice for now.

There was a painful silence as three minds were finally made up. We had convinced ourselves that Natasha was a spy and a traitor. The time for action was coming fast, which raised new problems. New struggles.

I had been so obsessive about convincing myself that the obvious was true that I never even considered the implications.

Time is what we needed, but when would the second attack come?

"I've had a long day," I excused, prompting my two security-women to leave.

It was just me and the night as the room cleared and I looked out the windows to a city alive with millions of people's hopes and dreams flowing like blood through veins. Every light in a window had a story; every car on the road a destination.

"At least there are the twins," I told myself. "That's the best thing to have ever happened to me... Maybe the money made it possible, but I don't think so."

"No, I think we made it possible all by ourselves," a voice completed from the shadows.

I turned to see Elle standing in the door. She was wearing nothing but an expensive robe -- something she must've bought recently. With her hands gripping each end, she hugged the garment to her body and looked at me with eyes full of confusion.

"Sis? How long have you been listening?"

My little sister stepped closer and answered my question with one of her own. "What were you talking about with them? I knew... I kind of knew... But... Do you really think Tash was the one who told those men where you'd be?"

I didn't know what to say. Rubbing the back of my neck, I closed my eyes and prayed for wisdom to all the gods and sundry. "Sis... Don't worry about it. We've got it under control."

Rushing forward, Elle got right up close to me and wrapped her arms around my body. "It's fucked up," she mumbled. "How could she do that to you?"

"We don't know--"

"Why not? Why can't they find out? Alicia should find out. We need to know!"

All the emotions and confusion that I had bottled up inside were now being expressed by my sister -- unleashed with honesty I had struggled to muster. She was a better part of me: unafraid of feeling in ways I tried to avoid. With her in my arms, I did my best to console the both of us.

"You're going to tell Tec," I guessed. "That's okay, but don't jump to conclusions... Our people are still investigating and we need to be calm."

"I'll kill her, Olly. If she was behind this I'll take a brick and--"

I held Elle a little tighter, squeezing all the tension from her body until she was ready to let go of her anger. It was a practiced technique that got us through a lot over the years. She seemed to take a breath and calm herself, but I could still see rage burning deep inside as we let go and gave each other some distance.

"Do you want to sleep here tonight?" I offered, wanting to soothe her

My sister shook her head. "Not without Tecla, and she's already sleeping like a baby. In fact, I don't think she's ever slept as well."

"It's an odd arrangement the two of you have," I remarked. "You're not curious about each other?"

"We're twins. If we get curious, we can look in the mirror."

"So, you always want to be together but you never want to be together?"

"Eh... I don't know," Elle shrugged, wiping some tears from her cheeks. "We want to be with you."

I could see my sister was tired and rearing to go back to bed. "I'll be up until late," I said. "Why'd you follow me up here?"

"Oh... I wanted to ask you a question, but it isn't important. Not with a fucking murderer living in the house."

"Go ahead," I encouraged. "Let me and Alicia worry about keeping us safe."

Elle bit down on her lip and frowned, having a quick mental conversation with herself. She decided it was worth asking the question she wanted to ask. "Did you like Tecla's blowjob?"

I almost laughed at the strange query, but my little sister was dead serious about her question, so I answered just as seriously. "Yes, I did enjoy it. Why do you ask?"

"I'm not sure I can be as good as her at it... I want to try though."

"It's not a competition," I insisted.

"Maybe I can be better at other things--"

"It's--not--a--competition."

I smiled, waving my sister closer before planting a kiss on her forehead and sending her off to bed. Her doubts reminded me that the dynamic between twins is unknowable to even their closest family. She would go tell Tecla about Natasha and she would keep worrying about whether she could match her sister's sexuality. I knew that would make things more complicated.

I also knew everything would be alright, because I had them and they had me.

• • •

Deciding I couldn't possibly get to sleep, I made my way down to the second floor of the penthouse.

Eventually, I reached a set of weighty doors that sealed the home cinema off from the rest of the house. Pushing them open with my shoulder, I entered what was a decent-size room with a massive screen on one end, comfortable sofas, and a small bar.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the mine-fridge and drank down half of it before crashing onto one of the sofas. My wound burned a little as I did, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. The pain had become more psychological than anything else -- it only hurt when I had conflicting emotions.

On the one hand, I'd never been happier. On the other, life had never been more complex.

There was a major tennis tournament due to start in Melbourne, and I found more than one channel playing highlights from the previous year. I zoned out, watching the best of the best play a game I enjoyed myself.

I still had Cassandra Nash's request on my mind -- the need to convince Pellinore's board to do something that seemed stupid at face-value. That kept my mind busy as I matched the play on screen with the plays I planned to make.

Fifteen minutes passed before the sound of the doors opening drew my attention. Clad in her cream-coloured summer pyjamas, Eve walked into the room and took a seat beside me. "Hey," she greeted, simply and with a trace of angst.

"Hey."

"I'm sorry about yesterday..."

"That's okay."

My mother didn't look at me as she spoke. "You always say it's okay. It must tire you out though."

"It does."

"Maybe if you give me some of those things on the list, I'll get better?" my mother angled.

"Maybe..."

We didn't talk for the next half-hour; sitting with a foot between us as the tennis players ran around on the big screen. It wasn't a particularly interesting match, but it kept the both of us quiet. As the play ended and the player's shook hands, Eve got to her feet and offered to go make tea.

"That would be very nice," I said.

Giving me a soft-edged smile in return, my mother seemed happy to have some function. All throughout my life, she would make the occasional small effort at reconciliation, but it never lasted. Still, I appreciated the moments of relief and comfort that came with it each time she tried.

With Mom out the door, I grabbed the remote and started skipping channels. Once I was past all the sport, I reached the news and stopped on a panel discussion between some business people. That sort of thing was part of my world now, so I sat and watched as they discussed the state of the global economy.

I felt a buzz in my pocket. It was an email from Cassandra Nash, sent after another one of our fights about the truth. I read it, and again, and again...

You should never know everything, but you deserve to know how your father died. Have your people look into it.

My body went cold, and I felt my tongue swell in my mouth. I nearly slapped myself to make sure I wasn't in some grim nightmare! I read the message a fourth and fifth time, thinking this was another one of my moments of madness.

Stumbling to my feet, I started running after my parent.

"Mom! Mom! I need you!"

• • •

Alicia was in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, roused from her sleep to join the meeting between me and my mother.

We returned to the cinema, with its soundproofing offering an advantage, as I tried to get the truth from my mom. Since approaching her, she'd gone through phases of anger, tears, denial... Now, she was back at the start and properly pissed. "You have a damn nerve bringing up your father like this!"

"What happened to him?" I demanded.

"The man lived an unhealthy life," my mother insisted. "He had a stroke."

I pointed to Alicia. "You know, she can find out if you're lying."

Biting down on her lip, my parent's eyes drilled into my head of security, but Alicia didn't flinch. "Ma'am, this information is important for your son's security. We still don't understand why he's in danger."

My mother threw her hands in the air before turning away from us. She started pacing the room, which was a habit I sometimes practiced when I needed to think.

I realised it was something I inherited from her.

"You can't tell your sisters," Eve insisted, deciding that it was best to come clean. "They can never know about this!"

I was defiant, "There's nothing I don't share with them."

"Oh? So, you're going to tell them your father was a drunk and that's why he died?"

"What?!"

My mother shrugged, wiping an errant tear from her eye. I didn't want her to relive old traumas, but I needed her to go back to that tragic time. I needed her to remember and retell, so that Alicia and I could figure out the present. Slowly, surely, we got the true story of my father's passing.

"He used to drive for Elizabeth Wharry, when she visited Canada, but she fired him after the adoption failed. Well, I say fired... She was polite about it, but she wanted to avoid seeing a reminder of what could have been. He found a new job, also as a driver, but with less pay. Then the twins came and the pressure of having to put bread on the table caught up with him."

"I never once saw him drunk," I retorted.

"You wouldn't remember, Oliver. He was often away for nights at a time, laying passed out somewhere. One night, he got behind the wheel of a friend's car and... He..."

My mother began crying, a visceral, terrible, gut-wrenching, cry of remembrance. I stepped up and held her grieving body in my arms as it all poured out of her, but she was quick to break the hug as she spat memories into words. "He ran someone over... He killed them... Died in the accident himself, along with his friend who was in the passenger seat."

As my parent continued to choke on her tears, she sought my eyes. Hers were bulging and burning -- aflame with sorrow. She wanted to read my thoughts and understand my reaction.

The truth is, my mother probably saw a blankness drawn across my face that night.

Yet another thing about my childhood turned out to be a lie.

Where does it stop?

Alicia had stepped back to give a mother and her son time to process a deeply personal moment. I wanted her to do the opposite -- I wanted her to be closer -- I wanted her to be my companion in that moment, because god knows it felt very lonely.

Eve was right that I shouldn't tell my sisters -- that I shouldn't share what I now knew. While I still had vague recollections of our dad, all they had were stories, and I couldn't ruin that for them.

I had to ask my parent more questions, but first she had to empty her eyes of tears. As she regained her composure, slowly-slowly, Alicia stepped closer while I started asking away.

"Did the police confirm he was drunk?"

"Yes."

"Did he have enemies?"

"Oliver..."

"Maybe someone from when he worked for Liz Wharry?"

"Oliver... Stop."

"I need to know, Mom."

My mother put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. "You're not asking any questions I haven't asked before. The truth is simple. He was drunk and he drove and when people do that, they make accidents."

"No, there must be more!"

My mother kissed my forehead for the first time in two decades. Her lips were melancholy and full of pity. With that kiss, she hoped to tell me that it was okay to give up and accept the worst was true. She wanted me to accept that my father was practically a murderer and his death self-inflicted. I looked into her eyes and watched them turn from torment to ease. She left me to reach for her tea and returned to being her depressed old-self; no more and no less.

She'd given up, but I wasn't going to do the same.

I turned to Alicia. "Have our people go through the old records. See if they can--"

"Oliver!" my mother interrupted. "Don't go digging!"

"We have new information."

"Stop it!"

My mother's voice cracked with that last word and she threw her lukewarm tea all over my face. Alicia was quick to get between us, with her instinct being to guard me against any threat. She would've knocked Eve out had I not held her back.

Taking a deep breath, I knew exactly what I had to say. "You've kept a lot from me, Mom. I assume we need memories to help us interpret the present -- we need some honest recollections to help us ground ourselves in reality... Well, I don't have many true memories left, so you can imagine I'm beginning to lose my mind. Since I can't rely on you for facts, I'll go looking for them myself."

"Bite me," my mother scoffed, throwing her cup and shattering it against the wall before marching out of the room. If the doors weren't so big and heavy, she would have slammed them, but their weight slowed her rage.

"At least she didn't throw the cup at me. This time."

Alicia picked a throw blanket up from one of the cinema seats and used it to wipe my face. I felt like that kid who got yelled at in front of his friends. A little humiliated.

I tried to explain away what happened. "I must've said the wrong thing."

My companion was full of pity. "Nah. You stood up for yourself."

"She had good reason--"

"Good reasons don't make it right. Our ethics can't be reduced to our aims. The ends don't justify the means. Parents need to be bigger than that."