"Very Good, Mrs. Hindmarsh," the life insurance salesman commended me after our interview concluded. "Now, all there is left for you to do is sign that you understand how to operate the incubator and that it shall only be opened after the event of your death."
He passed me his binder and pointed to the necessary field where I was to print and date.
I exhaled, gave myself a nod, and then looked to my husband of twenty years. "I just can't believe it. Could we have guessed twenty years ago that we would be together forever?"
"No," Isaac shrugged, just as bewildered as I, and smiled brightly. Then he held my hand--the one without a pen in it--as I signed the form.
"And do you, Mr. Hindmarsh," the man continued, "understand how to operate the incubator and that it shall only be opened after the event of your death?"
"Of course," my husband assured him, and then signed right below my signature; albeit not as prettily.
The suit took his binder and studied our simple markings intently. Then he closed it and smiled at us.
"Congratulations," he said, "your superiors would like me to tell you that they are forever in your debt, and that you have earned the right to live long enough to see it paid back in full."
*****
The incubators arrived a week later. Men hauled them in and I followed them like a hound, reprimanding them for every ding and dent caused to my beautiful home. The pods' final location was a private, windowless room in the middle of the second floor. Not only had the room been renovated to survive a house fire, it also had a generator and climate control protocols that would survive for a week if such a fire occurred.
Once the incubators were fully installed and wired up, I watched the men take off the protective film from their windows.
And there my future self was, right next to my future husband.
"Remember, Mrs. Hindmarsh," the leader of their little band told me, "you must wear the reader for at least--"
I finished his sentence for him: "Four hours a day, I know, I know."
After he hesitated, he smiled and tipped his hat. "Well then, everything seems in order. Don't hesitate to give corporate a call if there are any issues. We'll be back after their training completes to run some tests."
"Thank you so much," I said to him, shook his hand, and walked the sweaty boys out of my house.
Quickly, I returned to the pods so I could stare at myself.
How odd, I thought.
I wished I could touch the thing inside, but that was, of course, against the policy, just as the red tamper-stickers running across its lid reiterated: "DO NOT EVER WAKE THEM."
*****
"First night, eh?" Isaac purred suggestively to me as we cleaned dishes together side by side.
When I didn't respond--because I knew damn well his intentions--he gently bumped me by jutting out his hip.
"Isaac, come on," I scolded him.
"Alice, Alice..." he cooed as he crept behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. "See that over there?"
He kissed my cheek and nuzzled the side of my head until I looked where he wanted me to.
"The monitor?" I asked as I set down a dish.
I was much too easily swayed by his advances, but I couldn't help but lean back into his chest and lift a hand to feel his scratchy cheeks.
"That's right, Alice," he said with a chocolate voice, sending little reverberations through my frame, "and what percentage is it at right now?"
"Zero," I answered, wanting more and more to be smothered by him.
"I think..." Isaac suggested as he reached for something, "we should treat our future selves with the best, first memory one can have."
I felt the pads of the reader as he fixed it to my head.
"Oh, yeah?" I giggled.
Isaac spun me around and I giggled once more for how clunky and silly he looked with the reader on his head.
"Hey," he said, putting a finger on my lips, "it's rude to stare."
I rolled my eyes and bit him so he would just get on with it.
*****
Radio:Could you tell us about the aliens, Mr. Hoite?
After a month, the pods were registering at 47% completed. That 47% consisted of the best parts of our lives, both public and private. His nights with his coworkers at the pub after winning a big case, my days traveling around the world with the CEO of the same law firm as her secretary, our visits to family around the country, our nights of bliss... the list went on.
But today I was home listening to the radio. And because I was home, I decided to treat myself despite my stringent diet.
"You don't need to see this," I told my future self as I took off my reader and foraged for some of the chocolate cake I saved from France a few days ago.
Radio:Well, they look just like us, and the elites are using them to gain eternal life!
Being alone, I claimed my right to moan as I savored the delicacy.
It was just so good; the solid frosting conformed to the roof of my mouth at just the right pressure, the chocolate was rich and melted on my tongue, and the cake was so moist I could almost drink it!
Radio:Mr. Hoite, do you think billionaires are aliens?
"Oh God," I mumbled as I wolfed more.
But then I saw the monitor, and fancy-pants Mr. Hindmarsh was lagging behind me by 1%.
Radio:Oh, come on now, now you're just trying to make me look silly!
I curbed my enthusiasm, which ruined my overall enjoyment and provoked me to set the cake aside so I could watch the monitor.
Radio:Mr. Hoite, have you ever smoked marijuana?
I went to 49%, while he remained at 47%.
I cocked my head curiously and stared at the reader on the table. I hadn't a clue about how the tech worked, so I turned off the radio, picked up my phone, and found my contact for corporate.
"Hello, this is corporate, how may I assist you?" a cheerful girl greeted me immediately.
"Hi!" I matched her tone, "I just have some questions about the incubators I had installed a month ago. I'm sure it's nothing--"
"Nothing's ever nothing, ma'am! That's what I'm here for," the girl encouraged me sweetly.
She had the kind of voice that made one want to spoil puppies.
"You're such a dear!" I told her, then went on with my concerns. "So, I saw the craziest thing today. I'm not wearing my reader, but my incubator is progressing all by itself! Is that normal?"
"Is it just a few percentage points?" she asked me.
"Yeah! Just two at the moment," I answered.
"Oh, hon, they do that all the time! Ever had a dream where you figure something out that you couldn't when you were awake?" she explained like it was nothing.
"Oh, it's like that?!" I slapped my forehead. "Gosh, I must be getting silly!"
"No!" the phone-girl protested.
"I'm sorry to call and bother you with such an obvious question," I shamed myself.
"No, no!" she cried. "Girl, you are just fine, everybody has questions and I like answering them!"
"Bless your little heart," I prayed. "I'll let you go now."
"It was lovely speaking with you, and I hope you have a wonderful day," she gushed.
"You too, dear. Bye, bye now," I said.
"Bye, bye," was the last thing I heard from her before I ended the call.
I sighed for a long time and realized that I needed some more local friends to bring over to the house when I wasn't busy.
The monitor ticked up once more, putting me at 50%.
What could it possibly be dreaming about? I wondered.
*****
The next day, Isaac came home with roses, reader fixed to his head, just like me.
We wore the readers so often, we no longer really noticed their presence in our day to day life.
He strolled into the house wearing casual business attire: tan slacks, some inconspicuous shoes, and a white dress shirt with the top button open.
"What did you do wrong this time?" I asked him suspiciously as he approached.
"Why is it when I do something nice for you," he returned with his own question, and then kissed me once we were toe to toe. "You assume," kiss, "that," kiss, "I've done," kiss, "something," kiss, "wrong?"
"Cause you're a big, no good, troublemaker." I squinted at him as I stood on my toes, intent on intimidating the man. "Even the Boss knows it."
"The Boss, much like you, wouldn't know her ass from a hole in the ground if it weren't for me," he bragged as he held out his roses.
I took them and smelled them with delight. "Whatever you say, Isaac," I said to him as I peeked over their red petals.
He stared at me for a moment, proving he really was buttering me up for some news.
Before I could call him out on it, he confessed, "I'd like to talk as adults for a moment."
I sat the vase down on the counter and obliged him. "Okay."
"It's been a couple years since I last asked, and we're not getting any younger," he prefaced cautiously before squaring his shoulders. "I still think we should have kids, Alice."
My head reeled, so I put my hand on the counter to stabilize myself.
Why won't he stop?
"I thought we agreed, Isaac," I told him without looking him in the eye.
"I love you, and only you," he professed. "That will never change. I just think it's a shame we will never know what parenthood is like."
"Take that shit off," I demanded as I removed my own reader and casted it away.
He did as he was told.
"I don't want kids. I don't want them, Isaac. I married you because you were okay with that," I hissed.
"I know," he choked, and I saw his tears starting to form. "Alice..."
"God damnit, Isaac," I shook my head, exasperated, and ran past him, up the stairs, and into our bedroom, which door I slammed shut and locked.
Then I crawled into bed and curled into a ball to cry.
It'll be okay, I comforted myself. He'll apologize tomorrow, and it'll be like it never happened.
When I calmed a bit, questions began to form in my mind.
Our future selves were ten years younger than us and better able to conceive children, so why would he ask me such a contentious question, when we theoretically had forever to decide? I probably would say yes eventually--there was nothing that wouldn't happen in face of eternity.
Dumbass can't be patient, I thought as I smelled his scent in our bed.
Lovable dumbass.
*****
My incubator dreamed again two weeks later. It was at 83%, then went to 84% as I rested in the bath. I took the monitor out of the kitchen and brought it with me because I liked watching Isaac's progression. It made me feel like he was home.
But his 80% wasn't progressing like mine was, and it irked me.
I soaked for a while longer as I pondered why, but the only thing my brain could come up with was to wear the reader to see if I could make my progression go even faster.
I dried my hands and gently put it on my head, careful not to disturb my wet hair too much.
Then I waited, and as I went to 85%, Isaac went to 81%.
"What a coincidence," I murmured.
I took off the reader and waited again.
I went to 86% and Isaac remained at 81%.
"Shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck..." I stammered over and over again as I scrambled out of the tub, reader and phone in hand.
Internally however, my mantra of existential fear was, they're switched,they're switched, they're switched...
Naked with water still dripping from my body, I opened the door to our clones and frantically looked for any indication the reader in my hand belonged to Isaac's incubator.
And there it was. The serial number printed noticeably on the reader was also written on his pod window. We weren't warned of the possibility and we never cared to notice.
"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK..." I repeated hysterically, then spontaneously unlocked my phone.
I called my husband and shouted right when he picked up, "ISAAC, OUR READERS ARE SWITCHED!!!"
"What--" he tried.
"Get your ass home right now, we have to fix this shit!" I told him, shaking. "I'm going to call corporate."
"Wait!" Isaac begged. "I want to be there when you call them, we both need to hear it."
"Okay," I promised. "Hurry!"
He hung up. I sat against the wall opposing our incubators and stared at them, unsure about the consequences of our innocent mistake. Despite my concern, he didn't take off his reader because my number still went up. Then I heard the front door open, slam shut, steps up the stairs, and finally his clothes rustling as he ran to the incubator room.
I was a naked child, shivering and quaking when he found me.
"Jesus Christ, Alice," Isaac said, taking off his jacket and covering me with it like a blanket.
"You have to call them," I croaked. "I can't do it. You have to tell them we fucked up."
"We didn't fuck up, Alice," he tried to console me.
I could only stare at him dumbly. "Well, we better call to make sure--"
"They're probably busy," he speculated. "In fact, I remember them being closed today because of the news."
"The news?" I asked, subtly shaking my head.
Am I going crazy? I wondered as my fingers unlocked my phone and opened my contacts.
"Yeah, the news. Babe, come on," Isaac chuckled and reached for my phone.
I moved it away and scrolled to corporate.
"Alice, you don't need to call them," he said a little more forcefully.
"Y-yes, I... I d-do," I stuttered.
Once he saw the screen change to the dialer, he shouted, "ALICE, STOP!!!"
The next moment, his fist hit my face and I was out cold.
*****
I woke up strapped to a chair. Isaac had his pistol at his side and the reader on his head. His pod was still stuck at 81%, while mine was at 97%.
All he did was stare at me.
"Isaac, what are you doing?" I asked him.
More staring.
"Babe, you're really scaring me. Please untie me," I begged for normalcy, hoping this was all a joke.
My incubator ticked to 98%.
"GET ME OUT OF THIS CHAIR, ISAAC!!!" I screamed at him.
He raised his pistol at his incubator's window and shot himself in the head. The sound and the ejection of glass fragments made me shriek with terror.
Then there was silence as blood dripped from the window onto our floor.
I shut up and simply watched the man I once called lover as my pod hit 99%.
"They're not us, Alice," he said, and then bit his tongue with his molars briefly. "You and I won't live forever. And if you think for one second I'm letting SOMEBODY ELSE!!!" he snarled at me, then composed himself, "live out my dreams in my skin, you are sorely mistaken. I just wanted one fucking thing. Was it really too much to ask of you after twenty fucking YEARS?!"
I realized the reason he asked me about kids wasn't because he thought I'd change my mind.
He wanted justification for what he was going to do to me.
"Isaac..." I pleaded, unsure about what to say.
"So, now," he jeered as he crouched inches from my face, "I'll be you. I'll be you forever. All this..." he breathed sporadically as he groped me, "...all mine."
I vomited out of disgust and some of it splattered on his expensive shoes.
He jumped back and spat on me. "I can't believe I fell in love with someone like you."
"You're fucking insane," I whimpered.
The pod reached 100%, and I shook my hair out of my eyes to watch as he removed the warning tape and heaved open the heavy incubator door.
A smelly gas escaped its containment, and as Isaac was carefully pulling her arms and legs out of their restraints, she woke up and gasped for air.
There was nothing right about her.
Her eyes twitched independently. Her facial muscles did not move in any appropriate order. She made garbled noises that sounded like reversed speech. She punched and clawed at Isaac, but he held her upright and firm.
I felt a sense of victory for his failure, but it was obvious he still believed.
And just when I truly believed he had created a vegetable, she stopped shaking and her eyes began to track common targets.
"There you go," Isaac muttered, pleased to see improvement.
She looked about herself, first finding my eyes, and then finding Isaac's.
There was no emotion on her face at all.
"What's your name," Isaac asked her as if he were asking his brother.
"Ice... sack..." she hoarsely tried to pronounce.
Then she looked behind her and saw her dead was-to-be mate.
Quicker than lightning, and with fingers much longer than mine, she gripped Isaac's skull and decapitated him by making a fist.
"NO," it screamed dryly.
Then it turned to my breathing, sweating, hyperventilating body.
There was a light inside of its abdomen, and it silhouetted organs humans didn't have underneath its skin.
"NO," it breathily screamed again as it took a step towards me.
"Don't..." I whispered, then spoke louder, "He killed him! I had nothing to do with this!"
"NO," it responded as it towered over me. While it reached out with its increasingly malformed hand, I panicked and tugged against my restraints until I felt my skin tear.
"DON'T KILL ME YOU FUCKING MONSTER!!!"
The light from the ceiling was replaced with the light from its warm abdomen.
"PLEASE NO!!!"
It's spider-like fingers wrapped around my skull.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
There was a snap of pressure and every part of me felt wet.
And then silence besides my last thought: They're not us. Do not ever wake them.