I’ve always had poor eyesight, and it’s been nothing but trouble for as long as I could remember. Eventually, I gave in, deciding I should finally rid myself of that vision. Gustave took it upon himself to perform the procedure that altered the pattern of my iris, making my vision infinitely better. He replicated Lorenzo’s exact eyes, during which Lorenzo stubbornly muttered, “My eyes are prettier anyway.”
After that, Lorenzo never questioned my commitment again. I endured the pain, holding onto the thought that when I opened my eyes, the stars would appear even clearer.
As instructed by Gustave, Lorenzo extracted his own blood and urine to conceal my identity during tests. He would have to keep doing that for as long as I lived.
I was practicing forging Lorenzo’s signature when he wheeled himself toward me, holding a medal up before my eyes. “Look at this.”
“It’s nice,” I said, unsure where the conversation was going.
Lorenzo continued holding the medal up near my head. What did he want me to say?
“Right. I’m lost.” I admitted, glancing at the medal once again.
“Has the surgery impaired your vision? Are you now colorblind? It’s silver.” He clenched his jaw.
I turned my head back to the paper, not knowing what to say.
“Lorenzo De Sanctis was never meant for anything but first.” He finally put the medal down. “Despite everything I had, I was still second best.” His voice softened. “Your signature needs work.”
Lorenzo had more than what it took to get into APEXIS, just not the desire.
“Do you really want to go in there?” Lorenzo asked.
“No, not in there.” I looked up at the stars. “Up there.”
“What’s up there?”
“That’s what I want to know, Lorenzo.”
“Call me Niccolo. It’s my second name.” He turned his head to me. “We can’t both be Lorenzo.”
On my first day at APEXIS, I had to undergo some tests. Thankfully, Niccolo had supplied me with his urine in a medical bag, which I hid from Roberto, the Medical Examiner. The screen, of course, flashed “Valid,” though I can’t deny that I was nervous.
“Congratulations.” He said with a smile.
“What about the interview?” I asked him.
“That was it.”
Each day, I scrubbed my body thoroughly and disposed of all loose skin, nails, and hair. I had to remove any trace of “invalid” left on me. Niccolo prepared samples from his own body so I could register as him. He gave me his identity, and in return, I paid for his lifestyle.
I was a new member of those who couldn’t accept their own fate, a “genetic proxy”. At APEXIS, I rose quickly as Lorenzo De Sanctis. Only one man ever came close to exposing the real me.