Free Anna To The Infinite Power by Mildred Ames

Anna Zimmerman had somehow escaped their fate and had been raised by a friend of her mother’s. As a young woman her brilliant mind had won her scholarships to the University of Berlin and later, in this country, to the University of California at Berkeley, where she took her doctorate. After, she worked for government research and development laboratories. She had never married and had left no survivors.
    Perhaps that was another reason for choosing to clone her, Anna thought. She had no relatives to object. But it certainly doesn’t help me. Now there never would be anyone with whom she could feel she belonged, no one to ask, “Did Anna Zimmerman have bad headaches like mine?” She thought of all the other Anna Zimmermans. They had to be relatives of some sort. Maybe she belonged with them. Then she remembered how she had felt, looking at her doppleganger, and how the girl had reacted to her. No, they would never be comfortable together. Then why did she always feel that she was looking for some missing part of herself? Lately, with her new knowledge, the feeling had grown even stronger.
    Anna got up and went to the window. A dense fog had settled over the park. She could not see Michaela’s apartment or anything else now. She might have been staring at a gray wall. Although her window was closed, she imagined she could feel the chill steal inside. She shivered. Suddenly, for no real reason, she was frightened. She could see nothing, and yet she felt there was something out there in the fog, in the mist, waiting for her, threatening her. That made no sense at all, yet she was certain it was true.
    Was it creeping into the room now, touching her skin with icy fingers? She shrank away, eyes still fastened on the gray beyond the window. At the same time, she could hear music. She listened hard. Nothing. Then again she heard it, heard it inside her head, the same tune that had come from Michaela’s apartment that night. But that couldn’t be. How could she possibly remember it? Yet, remember it she did, and it was throbbing through her skull now worse than any headache. She had to escape from that sound, get out of that room.
    She backed away from the window, farther and farther, until she finally reached the door and jerked it open to stumble through and slam it behind her. Then she tore down the hall to Rowan’s room and flung open his door. As the sound of his violin died, she was aware that the music in her head had vanished, too.
    He frowned at her. “Maybe I’d better start locking my door.”
    Anna’s lips trembled as she said, “Rowan, I’m afraid.”
    “Now, Anna, leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m -- ” He broke off to stare at her quizzically. “What’s the matter with you?”
    She took the words as an invitation to enter his room, which she’d always considered forbidden territory. Inside, she felt safer. “I’m scared, Rowan.” He lowered his violin and stared at her skeptically. “I can’t believe it -- not you. What are you scared of?”
    “It’s that woman. She’s trying to drive me out of my mind.”
    “What woman?”
    “That Michaela Dupont.”
    “What do you mean, trying to drive you out of your mind? What did she do?”
    “She didn’t do anything -- not openly. Well, yes, she did -- she flashed her earrings around until they made all kinds of fluttery lights, and I got a headache.”
    Rowan shook his head, a look of total disbelief on his face. “I never heard anything so insane. You always get headaches. Why blame this one on her?”
    “Because she wanted me to have one. I know she did.”
    “Anna, you’re crazy. She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, not to mention the best music history teacher we’ve had at the conservatory. Why would you imagine something like that about her?”
    “I can’t explain it. I just know she’s trying to do something to me, and I don’t know what it is, and I’m scared.”
    “Anna, you’ve got to be imagining all this.