A Case of Identity

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A Case of Identity Page 2

by Paul Comstock


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  When I got to work I was only a little late, but that was still going to be bad. Being even a second late would be enough for Ms. Hanson to rake me over the coals. She loved to harass her charges and often staked out the elevators waiting for some poor fool like me to roll in after that nine o'clock tick. Even being dead probably wouldn't be a good enough excuse for her. It would be far better to avoid her altogether.

  When the elevator dinged and opened, I looked around and sighed in relief. Ms. Hanson wasn't anywhere to be seen. I had gotten lucky. I didn't waste the opportunity and immediately turned right and kept moving. I knew where I was going. Ray's office was at the end of the hall, over to the right, past the fake brownish-green, dusty plants in the corner. I'd visited it a hundred times, and I managed to slip into his office without incident.

  "Hey dead man, what's up?" Ray said as I entered and shut the door.

  "The dead man thing is getting old," I said. "I must have heard it a thousand times today."

  "Okay Josh, don't be so touchy. I'm just not very creative today. Give me time, and I'll come up with something better." He sat down at his desk and indicated a chair for me. I didn't sit. "What's wrong?" he asked.

  "Well, I assume from your comment that you know all about me being duped."

  "Who doesn't? It's all over the news."

  "Right, well it's starting to get to me."

  "It does seem a bit strange, I'll grant you, but I don't see anything ominous. It does happen, even to guys like us."

  "Yeah, I know. It shouldn't bother me, but it does. I need to know if there are other dupes of me somewhere. The whole thing creeps me out."

  Ray frowned. "You should let the BIT handle it. It's their job."

  "I would, but a couple of them came to my apartment this morning and I didn't like their implications. They made it sound like I was to blame for it. It worries me, and I can't just let it go. I've got to find out."

  "Oh, a mystery. Sounds interesting. So how can I help?"

  "The dupe had papers on him that the BIT asked me to decrypt this morning."

  "So the plot thickens. Got them with you?" Ray asked.

  "Here," I said, opening up the briefcase and handing him the papers. He immediately ran them through his desk encrypter, then carefully studied them.

  "Hmmm... Well they are vague, but they do seem to have something to do with dupes and productivity, don't they?"

  "Yes," I said.

  "Did you tell the BIT about any of this?"

  "No. I was worried they'd arrest me, and I needed some time to decide what to do. I need information, Ray. Something to go on. Is there anything at all you can figure out from these papers?"

  Ray shrugged. "Not immediately, but I can certainly try a few things." After a couple of minutes pecking and jabbing the keyboard in front of him, Ray looked up. "I can't decode any more of this page than you could and I can't get into the data on the project at all. It's a red project, it seems, even though this document was coded green--probably some kind of goof-up."

  "That's it? That's all you can figure out?" It was definitely a letdown, and it didn't help solve my worries.

  "Now, now, calm down. I didn't say I couldn't find out more, I just said that I couldn't get to the data. For one thing, every project has to go through accounting. I can at least tell you every employee that was ever associated with the project. Might be a place to start."

  "Better than what I have right now," I answered.

  Ray pursed his lips and nodded, then tapped the keyboard again, typing furiously. Then he stopped. The ever-present smile from his face faded and the redness in his cheeks vanished.

  "What? What did you find?" I asked.

  "Did you say you don't have any idea what this Worley Exponent project is?"

  "Yeah, why? Don't you believe me?"

  "Oh, I believe you, but... I guess there's only one way to tell you. Your name is listed as a person associated with the project. I would assume you'd know about it if you were a part of it."

  "What? That's impossible. I don't know anything about it other than its name."

  "It's right here, see?" Ray tapped a couple of keys and a copy of his screen displayed on the desk in front of me. There it was, just like he said. A listing of all the people associated with the Worley Exponent project. Fred Worley's name appeared at the top, followed by a guy named Jason Lawson, another guy named Ted Dangler, and then mine. The same Ted Dangler found dead this morning, no doubt. And what about the name of the project matching the one at the top? Just what did all this mean?

  Then reality smashed down on me and my world collapsed. If Worley was one of the people listed with the project, and had the name of the project, then he must be... And that would make me...

  I swallowed, and my vision blurred. Everything was wrong and out of focus. My stomach churned, and I had to grab the edge of Ray's desk to keep myself standing. I closed my eyes and soon felt Ray's hands helping me to sit down in a chair. "Thanks," I said, and opened my eyes.

  Ray always smiled unless things were really bad. There wasn't a time I could remember when Ray was serious about much of anything, but the thin line of his lips and the frown on his face told me that he understood as well as I did. "I can't be a dupe, can I? I mean, wouldn't I know?"

  "I don't know, pal. You seem pretty normal to me. Maybe you aren't a dupe. Maybe you're just listed there because of something else you worked on and this whole dupe thing is a coincidence. They do happen you know."

  I really wanted to believe him. Hell, I needed to believe him, but I just couldn't. I knew better. My dead dupe was found with papers that implicated a project I was tied to. What were the odds? One in a billion? One in a trillion? "No, I think it's clear that I'm a dupe."

  "Look, you're still a person, with a job and an identity, even as a dupe. You're not a spy or anything."

  "Are you certain? Maybe I am, and I don't even know it. I don't know enough about how the whole duping thing works to feel sure of anything."

  Ray shrugged. "I can't say I know a lot more about it, either, but I do know a few things. For example, all it takes is a hair root, a piece of skin, or some blood to get somebody's DNA. Then they just grow the dupe. I have a friend over at GenCo, Graham Goodsend. I think you met him once when he dropped by. Anyway, Graham says that the human stuff is the easy part. He says it takes a room full of expensive equipment and only a tiny sample of DNA and they can pop out a dupe in a day or so, fully formed. Add a week to program the brain, and it's done."

  "So in about eight days they can make a dupe?"

  "That's what Graham told me, and he would know."

  I felt sick again. A dupe could be made and be me within only a few days. But something didn't make sense. Something was wrong. I'd been at Victory for almost three years. If I was a Dupe, then that would mean that I had been made sometime before that, or did it? "Ray, you said they program the brains of the dupes, right?"

  "Well, that's the way Graham described it. Why do you ask?"

  "I remember starting work here about three years ago, but I just realized that those memories could have been programmed into me. Do you remember when I started at Victory?"

  Ray frowned. "It's been about three years. Look, you've been over to my house and met my wife and kids. That wasn't programmed in, I can guarantee that. I think you're overreacting. And why haven't you ever met yourself? I'd think that would have happened by now."

  "I don't know. Maybe being a loner was programmed in, too. You are my only real friend, Ray."

  "Well, if you are a dupe nobody's done anything about it yet, have they?

  "No, but I never had a dupe of mine killed before, or had a BIT agent questioning me, either. I can't take the chance that it'll just go away. You know the law. If the BIT catch on to me being a dupe then they'll dispose of me. No rights and no questions."

  Ray shook his head. "Yeah, I guess you really can't take any chances, can you? But wha
t can you do about it? You can't just go off and hide or something. Eventually they're going to find you. They always find dupes. So what are you planning?"

  "I don't know. There's too much to keep straight. I can't get caught or contact the BIT about it, but I need to guarantee that I'll be safe somehow."

  "At least the BIT think you’re the original. Do you think you might be able to use that?"

  "Maybe, but I would need to locate this Worley guy and blackmail him or something."

  "Better yet, why don't you just take his place?"

  "And how am I going to pull something like that off? He must have a family and other people that would catch on. What would you do if one day you started talking to me and I didn't even know who you were? Wouldn't that be a sign that I was somebody else? With everybody suspicious of dupes and identity theft I don't think I would last long."

  "I see what you mean."

  I had to think, but I also didn't want to get Ray involved any deeper. "I think it'd be best if you forgot this whole thing, Ray. Whatever's going on one of me has already died, and it could be dangerous."

  "But, I..."

  "No arguments. It's too dangerous. I'll have to work it out on my own. Just one thing before I leave. Can you give me everything that the database has on everyone who is listed under the Worley Exponent?"

  "Sure, if that's all you want," Ray said, pecking away again at the keyboard. A few data sheets spit up out of his office printer, and he handed them over. "I still think I could do more if you'd let me. The offer's always open."

  "Thanks, Ray. I... I do appreciate it, but I think this might be goodbye." I extended my hand, and he shook it. I pulled away before the awkward silence got too much to bear and left as quickly as I could.

   

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