The Cloned Identity (13 page)

“Well, perhaps she has a bath once a year and today's the day,” I answered.

The Professor walked over to the sink and picked up Jack's mug.

“Did you put any sugar in?”

“No, I left it for her to do,” I replied.

“Look.” He showed me the empty mug. “No trace of sugar, and she didn't wash the mug out.”

“So?” I said.

“Jack always has at least six spoons of sugar, and there is always quite a bit left in the mug. Part of the new data included instructions not to use sugar in her tea!”

Feeling embarrassed that I hadn't noticed these changes, especially as I would have normally, I tried to bluster. “Perhaps she's just tired or confused. Two small changes, if that's what they are, don't mean she's a new woman,” I argued.

The Professor looked disappointed by my doubts. “All right, Roger, we will just have to watch her and note any changes, no matter how small, then I can compare them with my program.”

I nodded. I told him I would prepare some sandwiches for tea, and he went back to the lab.

He came back about forty-five minutes later.

“No sign yet?” he said.

“No – I suppose she is all right. Do you think I should check?”

“No,” said the Professor. “Let's give her a bit longer. Perhaps she is enjoying a long soak.”

About ten minutes later the bleeper went off in the Professor's pocket, and a few minutes later Jack appeared at the kitchen door. Well, at first glance she looked the same, but then I realised that was only the clothes. She had washed her hair, and she had even combed it, and it looked nice. Her face looked softer – definitely cleaner. I think her eyes looked brighter, but I was looking for changes now, almost willing her to be different, probably noticing things that I hadn't bothered with before.

“Feeling better now?” asked the Professor.

“Yes, thanks. I'm starving hungry, though,” she replied.

“Come and sit down. I've done some sandwiches,” I said.

She joined us at the table, and we attacked the food. We talked as we ate, and Jack joined in the conversation – something she had never done before. In fact, we had quite an enjoyable meal. After we had washed up I asked Jack if she would like to go for a walk.

“Yes,” she replied with a smile – which was another first.

Chapter 10

Out in the grounds we walked in silence for a while. I waited for her to speak. She suddenly stopped and crossed her arms and said, “This world's such a beautiful place, don't you think?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” I replied.

I studied her face as she looked into the distance. It was certainly softer, as if she had washed away the years of hardness she had acquired on the road. She didn't have a pretty face, but her skin was good and her teeth were looking whiter, so she was obviously cleaning them. I wondered if she had ever been to a dentist, and that made me wonder about doctors: where do tramps go when they are ill? I mean, I've never seen tramps in a doctor's surgery.

My thoughts were halted by Jack: “Have you travelled to many places in the world?” she asked.

“Oh, only the usual package holidays: Spain, Italy, France,” I replied.

“I would like to see those countries one day,” she said with a faraway look in her eyes.

I asked her if she could remember anything about her past. She looked puzzled by that question, so I quickly changed the subject. Later, as we returned to the building, she suddenly said she could remember that she had a happy childhood until her parents had been killed in a car crash, and she had been left on her own.

Back in the kitchen the Professor made us some drinks, and soon afterwards Jack said she was tired and went to bed.

We went through to the lab, and the Professor asked how our walk went. I told him she was certainly more chatty; she seemed brighter, more alive, and asked a lot of questions. I told him what she had said about her parents. He beamed at that, and got quite excited as he told me that was a clear indication his program was working, as he had programmed exactly that fact. I felt like telling him that it was also possible that was what did happen to her parents, but I kept quiet. The Professor told me he had found a case of women's clothes and a make-up case in his storeroom. He explained that they had been left behind by one of his visitors a while ago. He said she had left in rather a hurry, but he didn't explain why, and I didn't ask. He said he had put the clothes in Jack's room.

“Professor, there's something I have been wondering about: if you change a person's mind, will that change his physical characteristics as well? I mean, say you give a clumsy person the mind of an expert painter, will he become an expert, or will he become confused because in his mind he can do it, but physically he can't?”

The Professor thought for a while. “Well, Roger, I honestly don't know. I don't know if a clumsy person is clumsy because of a faulty brain or if a person's physical limitations are a separate issue, but I think we should look into it. It might open up a lot of new possibilities.”

I thought afterwards I should have kept quiet, as I could just see him giving me a shopping list for specific bodies.

The next morning I was there at the usual time. I glanced at the door to Jack's room on the way past. I found the Professor in the kitchen.

“She's not up yet?” I asked.

“No, not yet,” he replied.

We had a cup of tea and sat there talking. The time was dragging on, and I asked if he had the bleeper switched on. He checked his pocket.

“Damn!” he said. “It's in my other coat in the lab. I had better fetch it.”

“Morning.” A voice spoke behind us, making us both jump.

We turned towards the door. Jack was standing in the doorway, although her resemblance to the Jack we first knew was, to say the least, minimal. This Jack was a woman, five foot five inches tall, of medium build, with short, dark hair and brown eyes. My police-trained mind automatically noted her description. She was wearing a peach-coloured dress. The pale-orange lipstick was a little overdone, but she looked twenty years younger, and, although you wouldn't call her beautiful, she was certainly attractive in a very desirable way.

“What are you two gawping at?” she asked as she swept into the room. Neither of us spoke; we were too busy closing our mouths, which had been hanging open. She started looking through the cupboards. I would have asked her what she was looking for if I had been able to tear my gaze from her curvy bottom, which wiggled as she reached up to open the doors. The dress was a little bit tight, and it rode up her hips, displaying the backs of her thighs. I glanced at the Professor, who was, judging by the way his eyes were leaping from their sockets, not thinking of scientific facts just at that moment.

“Ah, coffee! I fancy a change this morning,” Jack said as she turned from the cupboard, proudly displaying the jar in her hand.

The Professor and I were completely stuck for what to say. Before, although we knew she was a woman, we coped because we still treated her like a man; but now it was as if she was making a statement that she was a woman. So what should I say? Should I ignore how she looked and carry on talking to her as I did before? Should we discuss the change or act like nothing had happened? I decided just to carry on as before and not mention it unless Jack brought it up. Perhaps the Professor was right and she didn't remember what she was like before. Perhaps she believed she had always been like this.

She made her coffee and joined us at the table. We both smiled at her. The Professor asked how she was, and talked about the weather. For the first time I noticed her hands – mainly because of the splash of colour of the nail varnish she was wearing. She must have scrubbed her hands. Gone were the thin lines of grime around her nails and in the skin creases. She had short, stubby fingers, and I thought she needed a few rings in order to make it clear that they were a woman's fingers. She finished her coffee.

“What have you got planned for today?” she asked. Before we could answer, she carried on: “I would like to do some shopping. There are some things I need.”

I looked at the Professor. I could see the alarm in his eyes.

“Well, if you make a list, I can get them for you,” I said.

“I would rather go myself, please.” I could see that the Professor hadn't erased her talent for begging. Before I had a chance to think, I was agreeing to take her into Tolchester.

“Oh, thanks, Roger. I'll go and get ready.”

The Professor waited until he heard Jack's door close; then: “That was a bit silly, Roger.” The anger rattled his voice.

“I had to say something. She was getting upset. She might have wanted to leave.” I was almost pleading, which made me angry.

“All right, but you must watch her all the time. Never let her out of your sight for a second,” he said. “Oh, you can be sure of that,” I said with a smirk on my face.

The Professor gave me a hard look. “While you are gone I'll get the next set of data ready and we can download in the morning.”

I looked at him sharply. “So soon? Shouldn't we wait a bit longer?” I asked.

“No, I don't see why. She seems to be coping, wouldn't you say?”

“Yes, it's remarkable. It's just— Well, OK.”

I wanted to say she was fine as she was, but I didn't want to get into an argument. I felt worried, protective. What if we overdid it? What if something went wrong? This was all going through my mind, but my concerns were all soon forgotten as Jack came back, wearing a biscuit-coloured topcoat and carrying a black handbag. The coat fitted better than the dress had, and she looked quite smart. She stood in the doorway.

“I was wondering about money. You said you would pay me for helping you.”

“Yes, of course,” the Professor said as he got his wallet out.

He handed her four tens, which she folded and put away in her bag. I would have expected the old Jack to look in amazement at what to her would have been a fortune.

I walked Jack to my car and I noticed that she tackled the seat belt just as if she had been doing it all her life. We drove away from the lab. I was tempted just to drive away and not come back. I could expose the Professor's work and save Jack from any further treatment. I was sure the Professor was worried that I might do just that, judging by the way he looked at me as we left.

We spent a pleasant few hours round the shops. Jack seemed so happy, and I really enjoyed being with her. We even had lunch in a burger bar, which, believe it or not, was my first time ever, and I enjoyed it. Jack spent the Professor's money and the same amount of mine. I tried to keep a note of what she bought, but I gave up after a while. The pile of parcels and bags I was carrying just seemed to keep growing. I did note that she didn't buy a new woolly hat or knapsack, which would have led me to suspect that she was getting ready to leave us.

She was starting to look tired, so I suggested we go back. The drive back took a lot of effort on my part, but my professional training finally won and it wasn't too long before I was pulling up outside the lab. The Professor was waiting outside the door and greeted us like long-lost friends – a reminder of when I first brought Jack there. He helped me to carry Jack's purchases to her room and we left her to sort them out.

Back in the kitchen, he showed me the bleeper, so that I knew that Jack couldn't surprise us again.

“Well, how did it go?” he asked. “You were gone a very long time,” the Professor said.

“Well, you know what women are like when they are shopping – no sense of time. Anyway, it went fine. I kept an eye on what she bought – no wire-cutters or tunnelling equipment.” I tried to sound as sarcastic as possible.

The Professor took no notice.

“Come into the lab a minute,” he said.

I followed him. From behind his desk he fetched a black dustbin liner, which he held up with a great grin on his face.

“Look,” he said as he placed it on the floor in front of me and opened it.

I leant forward to see the contents, and the stale smell soared up and hit my nose, making me snap my head back. I looked enquiringly at the Professor, who seemed not to notice the smell.

“Her old clothes,” he said excitedly. “She's thrown them away – her link with the past.”

“Oh, I see,” I replied. I obviously didn't share his enthusiasm.

“I found the bag in her room, while you were out.”

I frowned at him. “Have you been poking about in her room?” My angry response took him by surprise, and he looked frightened for a second. He then recovered his composure and gave me a hard look. I looked away. I felt angry. The thought of him looking through her things churned my stomach. I had also lost my self-control and betrayed my personal feelings. Despite all my years of training, I had let this rut of a man get through my defences. I tried to cover up by asking questions about what he had been doing while we were away, but the atmosphere was now tense between us. It was a relief when the bleeper went off in his pocket, acting as a signal for us to make our way back to the kitchen.

Jack was already there, busy looking through the cupboards. She turned at our entry and smiled – at me first; I was sure of that. We all pitched in and made a meal.

We sat and talked as we ate. I was aware that the Professor was watching Jack and me whenever we were talking to each other, but I was determined not to let him intimidate me. After all, I was only making sure Jack was happy and relaxed.

After we had cleared away, Jack said she was tired and went to bed. I made my excuses and left.

I had a very fretful night's sleep, and I seemed to have been asleep for only a few minutes before I woke. It took me a while to work out who I was and where I was, then to realise I had not set (or had missed) the alarm. It was an hour later than my normal time for rising. I cursed and had a quick shower and shave.

My mouth felt dry and sore as I drove to the lab. I rubbed my chin; the stubble I had missed while shaving itched a bit. My eyes felt tender.

“Damn! Damn!” I thumped the steering wheel in anger. I wanted to look and feel my best.

Then I couldn't open the security door, and had to ring the bell. At last the door was opened by the Professor.

“I didn't think you were coming,” he said.

“I'm here now,” I snapped back.

‘Nothing like getting off to a good start,' I thought.

He explained that Jack had woken up early, so he had put her in the lab already. As I entered the room I noticed Jack, in her usual sitting position on the couch. I walked over to her. Two wide straps encased her body. I looked at her looking so peaceful, her chest moving gently. I leant down and picked up the loose end of one of the straps and rubbed it through my fingers. The Professor came over.

“I had to put the straps on to stop her falling off.”

I nodded.

I wondered what else he had been doing – probably had his hand up her skirt.

“Are you ready, Roger?” he asked.

I nodded and moved to my usual position behind her head.

I looked down at her. With a sigh I gently turned her head, then drew the palm of my hand slowly across her cheek and brushed her hair out of the way. I looked away, gritting my teeth, as the Professor inserted the probe. I watched him as he worked the keyboard.

‘It's funny how you can suddenly take a dislike to someone,' I thought; ‘but then, our relationship has always been more professional than friendly.'

I found that subconsciously, as I stood there, I had been caressing Jack's head with my fingers, probably trying to reassure her, to let her know I was there. What would she think if she knew what we were doing to her, and, in fact, had already done to her?

“Oh, by the way, Professor, I will have to go as soon as we have put her back in her room. I've got to be in court and I expect it will go on all afternoon.”

“Hmm, that should be all right, but can you leave a number in case I need to get in touch?”

I nodded.

It was a good thirty minutes before he disconnected the equipment. We didn't speak during that time. While he was packing away, I walked round and faced Jack. What the hell were we doing, violating her brain? What turmoil had we just unleashed into that innocence? I realised I had not got to know the old Jack, and I wondered whether I would have liked her as much as I did the new one. That question, I knew, would never be answered.