B Clones (Clones #1) - Laurann Dohner Page 0,1
the board at the nurses’ station and he thought you were her. I’ll have them take it down and ask security to watch your door.”
Gemma was familiar with the singer. Her sons joked all the time about their mom sharing her name. It wasn’t her type of music though, and the woman was much younger. “Is she going to be okay?”
The nurse hesitated. “She didn’t make it. We haven’t released that information yet to the news outlets. Her people will do that.” The nurse checked the monitors. “You just hang in there, Gemma.” She looked up and smiled. “Ah. Here we go. I’m going to add medication to your IV line. This will make you feel really good and help you sleep until your sons arrive.”
Gemma closed her eyes. She needed to think of a way to say goodbye to her precious boys. Brent had just graduated law school. He’d be okay. Thomas was another matter. He’d already switched his college major twice. It didn’t matter to her what he decided to do with his life, as long as it made him happy. She’d told him that before, but she wanted to reinforce it one last time when he arrived.
A coldness suddenly swept up her arm. She felt lightheaded and almost drunk. Then the pain medication put her to sleep.
Chapter One
A blaring alarm jerked Gemma awake. She stared up at what appeared to be smooth metal, inches above her face. There was a dim light source along her sides.
She lie in what felt like a coffin. It was an enclosed, tight space.
She gasped and began to panic.
I’m alive. Don’t bury me!
She wiggled her arms free from where they seemed pinned at her sides and shoved upward, a scream trapped in her throat.
A lid slid to the side, and the light grew brighter as the opening widened. She used her feet now, too, kicking at the heavy top.
It moved farther and the siren noise grew louder. When she was able to sit up—Gemma gaped in shock when she got a look at her surroundings.
It wasn’t a funeral home. There were no flowers, tasteful decorations, or chairs.
It was a room that reminded her of a mini warehouse, with lots of rectangular metal boxes like her own, strapped to the floor and lining the walls.
“What in the hell?”
A slight motion came from her right, and she gawked at the…thing that rolled into the room. It wasn’t human.
It looked like someone’s overpriced science project. It appeared humanoid with a head, chest, and arms, but the lower half consisted of a square box on wheels.
It turned her way.
“Lie flat and allow me to reseal your unit,” the emotionless voice ordered.
It lifted robotic arms—and Gemma freaked out.
She shrieked and batted at the thing with her fists. It avoided contact by dropping its arms and going in reverse a few feet.
“Your unit has accidentally been triggered to open. It was an error caused by a harsh impact with a shuttle,” the thing stated. “Lie flat and I will reseal you.”
Gemma gripped the side of the coffin-like box and frantically scrambled out. Her feet were bare, and the floor felt icy cold when she landed on shaky legs. “Stay away from me. What are you?”
“I’m a service repair unit. Your shipping unit triggered in error. Return to it now.”
“No.” She inched away from the robot and glanced at the large box. It was some weird coffin, alright. A raised one with vents on the bottom, and made from silver material that appeared to be a mixture of plastic and metal. “Where am I? What’s going on?” She looked back at the…robot.
“You’re aboard the space transport Avian and we’ve been attacked by pirates.”
She let that sink in. Space transport? Pirates? Freaky robot? She lowered her chin, staring at her body, and immediately suffered another shock. “Where are my clothes?”
Gemma currently wore a pair of underwear and a matching, form-fitting sports bra.
And the surprises kept coming…because her stomach was also flat.
She took the time to study her arms and hands. There were no age spots, no excess skin.
She reached up, touching her face. Closing her eyes, she examined it with her fingertips, feeling no loose skin or wrinkles. She opened her eyes and looked down again, this time staring at her thighs. They were thin and shapely. Hers hadn’t looked that good in at least twenty-seven years, since before her first pregnancy.
“Return to your unit,” the robot stated.
Gemma straightened, staring at the thing. She was confused—but then it suddenly made