by C M Dancha
Before the clone could ask more questions Rollie didn't want to answer, he said, "Come with me and I'll show you the bathroom." He looked at the clone and could tell immediately that he had no idea what the word ‘bathroom’ meant. "It's the room where you can relieve yourself." Rollie hoped he understood what ‘relieved’ meant. He certainly didn't want to give the clone a demonstration.
The explanation of how to get water out of the sink faucet was easy. And, getting the clone to realize the toilet bowl was for liquid and solid waste was easy to explain. But, getting him to follow the reason for flushing the toilet was more difficult. Rollie finally had to wad up several slices of ham and flush them before the clone grasped the idea of how waste was carried away.
As the two men left the bathroom, Rollie thought how his team had grossly underestimated the amount of time and work necessary to welcome a replicant to the 22nd century. For a host that died recently, the re-education would be easy. But, for someone like this clone, who had died hundreds of years before, it would be very time-consuming. He ended this line of thought hoping Grandma LeeLee had a damn good reason for using this guy's genetic samples.
The clone walked over to the one-way window and stood looking at it. Rollie assumed he was trying to see or hear the men behind it. He began pounding on the window. Maybe he believed someone on the other side would do the same. Somewhat frustrated, the clone made several funny faces at the window. Rollie could see them reflected in the window and started to laugh. At least this guy, whoever he was, had a sense of humor. His teammates thought the clone's antics were funny also. They started laughing loud enough to be heard over the micromic.
With a half-smile on his face, the clone returned to the kitchen, sat down and poured the rest of the wine into his glass.
"Sir. May I have supper? And, another bottle of wine?"
Over the next two hours, the clone ate a hearty meal and drank another bottle of Merlot. This guy could certainly hold his liquor and showed no indication of being drunk. Rollie knew he would be sauced to the gills if he drank two bottles of wine in a couple of hours.
One by one, the ReLife team members came into the lab and introduced themselves to the clone. After each left the lab, the clone whispered some interesting comments to Rollie. For Raul, the clone said, "military man, I surmise." He described Helmer as a decent, fun-loving chap. And, he had a one-word description for Claude; "stuffy". This man was a good judge of character.
Rollie was about ready to ask for a description of himself, when the clone asked, "Sir, are you a slave? Are those men behind the window your masters?"
The clone's question caught Rollie off guard. Why would he ask such strange questions? Then it hit home. This man came from a period when many of Rollie's ancestors were slaves in the Americas. It had been so many years before that Rollie had forgotten about his family history. With his darker skin and natty hair, it was logical for the clone to ask if he was a slave.
He was ready to answer the clone's questions when he remembered what Grandma LeeLee told him many years before about the host samples in the maple box. This clone was a very important man from the old colonial America. A man of great power who was a leader of a country. A man Grandma LeeLee believed she and her forefathers and descendants were biologically related to.
The clone's name exploded in Rollie's head; Thomas Jefferson.
3
I THINK HE’S A GIRL
Rollie sat down before he fell. He was most likely looking at his great grandfather. How many ‘greats’ should precede grandfather could be figured out later. He stared at the clone looking for physical similarities to support Grandma LeeLee's claim that he was their great grandfather.
The clone did have a narrow, hawk-like nose like his own. And, his lips and eyes bore a striking resemblance. But those were the only facial features Rollie could identify like his own. Otherwise, their bodies had some similarities. Their legs were longer than their upper torsos. Their butts rode slightly behind the center of their bodies. And, they were muscular through the chest and shoulders. They shared what was referred to in sports as a runner's physique.
Physical traits alone were not enough to confirm a family bloodline. In the next couple of days, Rollie could have a comprehensive DNA comparison done between himself and the clone. Taking blood samples from the clone would be part of his scheduled physical exam. All Rollie needed to do was take a sample of his own blood and put both into a comparison hemotank. In less than five minutes, Rollie would know for certain if this replicant was a relative.
In the meantime, Rollie needed to think through what consequences a clone related to himself might create. The first thing he decided was not to tell anyone, including the ReLife team. There was no reason for anyone to get wound up over something which might not be true.
A search of all databases looking for a picture of Jefferson might be beneficial in determining if this was the former President of America. Unfortunately, any picture he found would be a painted portrait. The days of film photography came long after Jefferson's death.
Rollie made a mental note to research Jefferson's biography. Doing so might give Rollie insight into how this man lived his former life and what he may do now in a strange, new world. Rollie needed to learn everything he could about the real Jefferson. What were his interests, strengths, and weaknesses, and what beliefs did he hold dear? What did he own, how did he make a living and what were his major accomplishments? On a personal level, was he married, did he have children and was there anything interesting about his extended family?
As he prepared a mental checklist of the things he needed to do, Grandma LeeLee's instructions of so many years before spilled forth from his memory. Rollie was a young lad when LeeLee promised the maple box would be his one day. He was about twelve when she showed him how to open the secret drawer in the box. She made him practice the correct technique for opening the drawer several hundred times throughout his teen years. His interest in the box grew as the years went by. He eventually got around to asking her about the chiseled ‘H’ in the box lid.
"Sunny Boy, this ‘H’ stands for a distant relative of yours. The relative was a woman by the name of Sally Hemings. She was a slave long ago and the concubine of a very important man; Thomas Jefferson. Our family heritage can be traced back to Sally. She had several children by Mr. Jefferson and you, and I are descendants of one of those children. Mr. Jefferson gave this maple box to Sally. Most likely, it was a gift for many years of faithful service, especially after Jefferson's wife passed away. When Jefferson died, Sally cut off some of his hair and somehow got his severed finger. She put them in this box as keepsakes. Only God knew that hundreds of years later those keepsakes would be used by you, Sunny Boy. Sometime in your future, Jefferson's remains in this maple box will be very important to you and the world."
The last thing Rollie debated before leaving the lab was whether he should tell the clone about his host. He convinced himself that this would be a mistake. Part of the scientific analysis of the clone would be to record how long it took to recover memories. If Rollie told the clone about Jefferson, that part of the evaluation would be tainted. Corrupted data would be worthless in formulating theories about the mental recall of future clones.
"Rollie, can you hear me?"
"Yeah, Raul, what's up?"
"I think we better call it a day. There's something out here we need to go over."
"I'll be right out."
Rollie turned to the replicant who smiled and said, "Sir, it's time for me to get some sleep. It seems that I can't hold my wine as well as I once did. Thank you for a very interesting day. Tomorrow you can tell me how I got here."
Rollie keyed in on the clone's request to be told how he ended up a quarter mile underground in a room equipped with modern conveniences far beyond his knowledge. He obviously knew that these surroundings were not from his past.
"The pleasure was mine. Tomorrow, I have a couple of sets of clothing coming for you and w
e'll begin your medical evaluation. Also, I'll try to answer your question. If you need anything to eat or drink tonight the cooler is full. Goodnight." Rollie got up from the chair he was sitting in and headed for the interlock door. Before he opened it, he turned back to the clone and said, "Tonight, think about what name you would like to be called."
When Rollie left the primate lab the only person in the hall was Raul. "Where are Helmer and Claude?"
"They left quite a while ago. Do you realize you've been in there for over eight hours?"
"No wonder I'm so tired. I feel like I've been teaching a post-graduate course the entire time. I'm mentally drained." Rollie and Raul started down the hallway. At the lift, Rollie said, "Shit, I forgot about my date tonight with Gretchen. I better call and tell her I'm going to be late."
In Rollie's office they drank, smoked and relaxed.
"Rollie, look at this." Raul leaned over Rollie's desk and turned on the halo feature of the CPS. He scrolled to the correct entry and then projected it into the room. It was the memo from the World Council.
Rollie read the memo to himself three times. After the last time, he looked at the ceiling in his office and said, "This isn't good."
"I share your feelings, exactly. Having Slice here is the kiss of death. No one will be immune from his harassment and odd behavior."
Rollie lowered his gaze from the ceiling and looked at Raul. "Especially, me. I'm going to be in his cross-hairs from the first moment he walks into the building."
"Why you, Rollie? There are plenty of people here who should have been fired years ago. At least you’re the leader of ReLife, the hottest project we have going now."
There was no reason to keep Raul in the dark. He would find out soon enough. "He's going to deal with me first because I switched the human host samples. The clone we produced wasn't the one the World Council wanted."
Raul stared at Rollie for several minutes and then started laughing. He laughed so hard that his eyes watered. He inhaled a mouthful of cigar smoke which resulted in a violent coughing fit.
"What are you laughing about? I'm in deep shit."
Raul finally caught his breath so he could talk. "I thought I was the only sneaky son-of-a-bitch around here. Turns out you're as bad as me. If you don't mind me asking, who did we end up cloning?"
"I think I know but I won't know for sure until I see the clone's medical evaluation. It's best I don't tell you who it is. Even after I see his test results it might be wise not to tell you. That way, you won't have to lie to Slice."
"Rollie, don't worry about me and Slice. My days are numbered regardless of who is in the primate lab now." Raul took a drink of water to relieve his raspy throat. "Who knows you switched the host samples?"
"Well, the only people who know for sure are the two of us. Others will find out soon enough. When Slice finds out, no doubt everyone will know."
"I have a feeling that Slice already knows the clone downstairs isn't who it's supposed to be. Otherwise, this memo from the World Council wouldn't have been sent. This memo has Sedgewick Slice written all over it. It gives him the perfect excuse to come here and start looking for his host samples and figure out who switched them. By the way, where did you get his samples from and where are they now?"
"Klaus gave them to me and I've got them hidden. But I need to find a better hiding place or destroy them before Slice gets here."
"Whatever you do, don't destroy them. There's a good chance you'll need a bargaining chip and I can't think of a better one than the World Council host samples."
"Yeah, and I can't think of a better way to get myself fired from Phoenvartis and become a has-been begging in the streets."
"You worry too much my friend. Did Klaus know who the host was supposed to be?"
"I don't know. All I know is that the thermal box was still sealed when he gave it to me. Besides, mixed up host samples is the last thing he's worried about now."
"Well, that narrows the list of suspects down to you and Klaus, but someone else could have made the switch. Someone like Claude. or even me. But I agree, he'll be looking at you and Klaus first. I hear Klaus is in such bad shape he might not be able to tell Slice anything. Maybe you'll get lucky and Klaus will die before Slice gets here."
Both men quietly wrestled with their own thoughts for a couple of minutes.
"Rollie, I'd ask you why you made the switch but I'm not sure I want to know the answer."
"My grandmother told me to."
Raul rolled his eyes. This wasn't the first time he’d heard about Rollie's mystical grandmother. This was the woman who was over a hundred years old, who talked to God and communicated telepathically. "Now I know I didn't want to hear the reason. One day you can walk me through her reasoning, but right now we need to focus on getting you out of this mess."
"Do you think that's possible?"
"I don't know. I've got to think about this more. In the meantime, don't tell anyone anything. You and I are the only ones who know. At least, we're the only ones who know it was you."
"Raul, what do you think about the terrorist angle in Slice's memo? Do you think it's true?"
Raul knew who was responsible for the blast at Sophia's apartment complex but gave Rollie a misleading answer. Rollie had enough problems to worry about; there was no reason to add to them. "It might be true, but if I had to bet money on picking the bomber, I'd say Slice's accusation is bullshit."
"I agree with you, but I'm not sure either. We both know she was working undercover for the Black Cross. It's possible they got fed up with her and decided to end the relationship."
"That's possible, but I'm still betting against Slice's explanation."
"Raul, I've got to get out of here. My head is ready to explode. I'll see you tomorrow."
Rollie walked past Raul and patted him on the shoulder. Raul stayed in his chair to finish his cigar. He thought about searching Rollie's office for the World Council host samples but dropped the idea. It was a waste of time. If he wanted to see the samples all he had to do was tell Rollie he’d found a good hiding spot and ask for them.
As Rollie left the building and walked home to meet Gretchen, Raul sat in Rollie's office twisting, turning and calculating how to handle the latest bit of information he’d learned. Finally, his head hurt from over-thinking the facts and speculative guesses. He got up and headed home for some rest. This was one of those nights where he was jealous of Rollie's life. At least he had a girlfriend to be with the rest of the night. Raul promised himself to find a partner as soon as he left Phoenvartis and made enough World Credits to quit this cloak and dagger existence.
__________________________
From the other side of his apartment door, Rollie could hear two voices. One was Gretchen's. The other was a man's voice which sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. He opened the door to find Gretchen and the only man he knew who looked like a boy. Rollie's puppy was in Inspector Milkweed's lap half asleep and savoring the non-stop petting and scratching behind the ears.
"Inspector, what are you doing here?"
"Mr. Sweats. I'm sorry to interrupt your evening with Gretchen but I need to ask you a couple of questions. Can you spare me a few minutes? It's either here and now or tomorrow at my office."
After the day he’d had, the last thing he wanted to do was put up with Milkweed's slimy questioning. Plus, the way he referred to Gretchen was a little too pushy for Rollie's taste. He considered throwing Milkweed out but then he would spend the rest of the night explaining his rude behavior to Gretchen.
"Alright, Inspector. You've got ten minutes. Gretchen, dear, could you take the dog into the bedroom, so the Inspector and I can be alone and get this over with?" Gretchen got up, smiled at Milkweed and grabbed the dog.
When the bedroom door shut, Rollie started. "Milkweed don't ever come to my home again. We can meet in a hundred other places; you don't need to come here."
"I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to get you mad." Rollie could tell by the
tone of his voice that Milkweed was elated he’d pissed Rollie off. Telling him never to come to his home was like telling a seven-year-old to keep his hands out of the cookie jar.
"What can I do for you, Milkweed?"
"Mr. Sweats, were you and Sophia Groetschow dating?"
"We saw each other for a while." Rollie started to consider whether he’d ever heard her last name before but was interrupted by Milkweed's next question.
"Did you know that she was dating Klaus Ekstrom?"
"I suspected she was seeing someone other than me."
"When was the last time you saw her?"
"She and I went to dinner at the Schwarzenbach tavern on the night of the bombing. I walked her home and the next morning I found out there had been an explosion at her apartment building."
"Did you take home any food from the restaurant?'
This struck Rollie as an odd question, but he answered it truthfully. "No, I didn't but Sophia did."
"Did you go up to her apartment that night?"
"No, we parted on the street and she went up alone."
"Did you know there were other men who visited her apartment routinely?" This question caught Rollie by surprise, but he tried not to reveal it.
"I didn't know that. Who were the other men?"
Mr. Sweats, you gave me only ten minutes. If I waste time answering your questions, I'll never get through mine. Did you know that Klaus Ekstrom was paying for her apartment?"
"I knew someone had to be paying for the apartment. There was no way she could afford that apartment on her Phoenvartis salary."
"Did you ever see Sophia Groetschow wear a string of black pearls?"
"Yes, I can remember her wearing them a couple of times."
