My head's spinning, my heart's cracking, my legs are wobbling, and my cell is incessantly vibrating.

Kade still stands behind the glass grinning at me, "Kade, please tell me this is all a prank, it's not true, is it?" I ask; my whole body is vibrating along with my cell.

He walks through the glass and stands in front of me, "Download the App, and I'll walk you through my transition," he says.

"Stop this Kade, you can't leave me this way," I say, willing him to walk in behind me and give me a great big Kade hug.

But instead, he walks through me. We both turn and look at each other, Please Kade!" I plead.

His grin is fixed, "Download the App, and I'll walk you through my transition."

I shake my head, "Kade, this is a prank too far, you're being cruel, please stop this!"

He points to my hand in which my cell continues to vibrate, "Download the App, and I'll walk you through my transition."

The pre-recorded automation of his voice makes frustration; despair and anger collide within me, causing me to erupt into torrential tears.

My fists flail at the grinning facsimile of Kade, "Stop it. Stop this!"

But my fists are futile, they fly through Kade, fuelling my anger further – "NO! This isn't happening – you wouldn't do this to me – end this madness – PLEASE!"

My screamed plea echoes around the room tormenting me with its inevitable truth.

I need to hit out; I must channel this anger, these fists need to hit something.

The glass – I pound my fists into the impregnable glass wall hoping the physical pain will dull my emotional hurt – it doesn't.

Only when I see my own blood stain the glass do I stop.

I lean back and slide down.

I look up at the hologram of Kade, which continues to grin down at me, "Download the App, and I'll walk you through my transition."

I snap, stand up and throw my cell with force.

It flies through Kade, hits the wall behind him and explodes into myriad pieces.

Its destruction is strangely satisfying and I run towards the elevator needing to get away from this nightmare.

......

But no, there's no waking from this nightmare.

Sitting in our living area I try to answer the questions that crowd my head.

The one that keeps on looping is – did Kade dupe me?

I guess he did.

Kade could read me like a book. Perhaps he second-guessed my plan to imprison him and therefore had me lead him into Saferoom#3 which I had prepared for him.

Unbeknownst to me, Kade had prepared the space and people for his transition.

"We're such a great team, Tan," he'd frequently say.

I guess we worked together on his transition.

My despair at losing Kade drove me to extreme measures, which led to my being complicit in his transition to Transhuman.

A 'ping' sound distracts me from my questions and I scan the space, seeking its source.

I stand and look towards the kitchen area.

'Ping' – the kitchen work service.

I rush to it – 'ping.'

It's Kade's cell-phone.

......

Kade never left his cell out of his sight; in fact he always kept it on him, he often slept with it.

Knowing his code, I tap it in and stare at the message.

'Dear Sir.

Please see attached your full itinerary for two people on The Trans-Siberian-Express. Thank you for booking your First-Class-Trip with us and don't hesitate to call if you have any queries.'

Holding Kade's cell-phone gives me comfort, it's like still having a part of him.

I sit down and ponder the message – if Kade had duped me into his transition, then why would he bother actually booking and paying for our final trip on the Trans-Siberian-Express?

A surge of hope literally lifts me and I stand up.

But I sit down again knowing that I must be realistic; deceit and subterfuge are all part of The Surgeon's strategy, and I remind myself that we now have three of them.

A sudden dread quashes my hope – three of them and only one of me.

I can't deal with them without Kade by my side.

Then I'm hit by something else that compels me to my feet – it's Kade's smell.

His distinctively sweet, shower fresh cologne has entered the room.

I spin around, searching – but I don't see him.

Yet his smell intensifies and I call out, "Kade, are you here?"

There comes no reply and my shoulders slump.

But they lift again when I become aware of a shuffling sound.

I follow the sound out into the hallway.

Standing in the hallway I listen.

Something, somebody is shuffling in the storeroom to the left of our hallway.

I tread slowly, softly towards the storeroom and pause at its door.

I place my ear lightly against the door and listen intently.

The sound is shuffling, followed by gentle bangs and scrapes, like somebody is clearing out the room of all its junk.

I try to peer through the gap where the door meets the wall, but it's too slight to give me any insight.

But what it does give me is smell – Kade's sweet smell.

My head and heart surge and I grab the handle pulling open the door – "Kade, it's you, isn't it?" I shout.

I see know one in the room and swiftly deflate.

Until my eyes shoot to the shuffle sound.

In a darkened corner of the storeroom, boxes move and shudder.

Keeping my distance, I ask, "Who is it?"

I leap back when there's a tumultuous tumble of boxes, "It's me, I'm looking for my old lap-top, but there's so much junk in here I can't find it."

He looks up at me, his beautifully familiar eyes pleading, "Do you know where it is?" asks little Kelvin, Kade's cloned father.

My disappointment is profound and I shake my head, "No, I don't, sorry," I say.

He scurries past me, and as he does he leaves a waft of Kade in his wake.

I grab him in the kitchen, "Kelvin, are you wearing Kade's cologne?" I ask.

"No," he says, looking over the kitchen tops.

"Then why do you smell like him?" I ask.

He shrugs his shoulders, "I guess it rubbed off on me," he says.

As he goes to walk into the living area, I grab him again, "What do you mean, rubbed off on you?" I ask.

Irritation crumples his face, "Kade gave me a piggy-back to the elevator, I guess his cologne rubbed off on me then," he says, pulling away from me.

I hold onto him, "When did he give you this piggy-back?" I ask, my heart racing like a train.

Kelvin pulls away from me, "Five minutes ago."

He lifts himself up on his toes and scans the kitchen, "He told me to come get his cell-phone."

He rests back on his feet and holds his hand out toward me, "Do you have it, give it to me and I'll go give it back to Kade," he says.

I look down at little Kelvin and swivel my head, "No, take me to Kade and I'll give him his cell."

Kelvin smiles, "Cool – come on then," he says, racing off, full of childhood glee.

......

I follow him with a quiet sense of hope.