Clone City

It was early afternoon and Laia was walking slowly along the Midround corridor that marked the halfway point of the Tower. She had been shopping in the mall when a call came from Zuriko’s secretary. It had been brief, but it had taken the spring out of her step. She moved to one side to get out of the way of people bustling past. Trying to untangle her thoughts, she gazed down at the streets. She then twisted her neck to look up at the Topround where a similar, though smaller ring circled the top of the Tower. It was where the Alzaris was. She wondered if Arron was there now. But no, it was too early for him, she thought as she turned away and continued to walk back to her apartment.

She had been informed that she had failed to make the clone reveal what he had seen and done on the Outside. The tone and brevity with which this was stated made it abundantly clear that certain individuals were not pleased. One was Zuriko. The other, though he was not mentioned by name, might be Darvin. She supposed she had failed. Unused to criticism, especially harshness, she felt hurt.

The secretary even had the audacity to suggest she should have appealed to his sexual instincts. They shouldn’t have asked me in the first place, she thought recalling her fear of being so close to a clone who had crossed to the Outside. They should have got a sex servicer. She might have coaxed it out of him. Though, I doubt it. He was too far gone. Recalling how he had howled, she shook her head and quickened her step.

As she turned off the main thoroughfare into the quieter corridor that led to her apartment, she knew her reputation was in jeopardy. Not only had she failed to get the information they wanted, but a rumour was going around. People were saying the clone hadn’t had a medical and that he’d must have met barbarians because he’d howled a name. If this were true... Had Zuriko lied to her? She shuddered to think what Arron was thinking. Tears welled up. She had not heard from him since meeting the clone. He had not answered her calls. There was even talk she might not be on the guest list for the banquet.

Once the door to her apartment came into view, she broke into a half run. Reaching it, she slammed her hand against the ID pad and, as soon as the door unlocked, rushed in and burst into a flood of tears.

She hated Zuriko for this. She couldn’t rationalise it, but she felt she had been used. Fool, she thought, pushing her hands into her thick blonde hair to clutch her head. Truth is you have always been used. Only this time, you have been used against yourself. She took several deep breaths to try to calm down. Yes, she was pretty. Some said beautiful. And no, she was neither clever nor cunning, nor spiteful – none of those things you had to be to climb the ladder of success. She hoped Arron understood this. But, oh what a fool she’d been to believe Zuriko. But what else could she have done? She trusted people and did not want to believe they were wicked and conniving. But why, why did she do this?

This question made her stare hard, first one way then another. Why me? She’s not interested in Arron. She has Darvin. Was it just chance? Or the past? Her mother was more to blame than my father, she thought. She did not want to go over all that again. It was too painful. Her mother’s brutal, senseless murder had left her with a profound sense of loss. She knew she could never overcome that loss. She would live forever as a child cocooned within the love that her mother surrounded her in. This, she decided, was how she would keep her mother alive. Could Zuriko be seeking revenge, she wondered, wringing her hands and catching sight of her tortured expression in a mirror as she stood up.

Going into an adjoining room she filled a glass with water. As she drank, she felt calmer, though her face was still puffed from crying. As usual, she thought, I don’t know what to do. I’m just a pawn in what may be a game. But I don’t even know if it is a game or who the players may be or even if they exist. If only I were clever like Arron!

She put down the glass and decided the best thing she could do was take a walk in Happiland Park. She always found it cheered her up. It was a place that conjured up many happy childhood memories.

By the time Laia reached the big, bright, gaudy gates of Happiland, Joypolis’ largest park, it was mid-afternoon. Despite the sunshine, there were very few people about.

As she walked a spotless pink path, she was thinking how Happiland used to be so popular. Most people did not think there was any point in going there once they had been a few times. They preferred donning a cyber-helmet at the game centres. In recent years, it had become a talking point: should it be replaced? If so, with what? Not a week went by without some new idea for its space. Laia hoped it would remain forever. She remembered how her mother used to bring her here often.

Yes, she recalled, that’s where we used to play peek-a-boo and hide-and-seek. What wonderfully simple games. Not power games. Her mind shot to Arron. Why hadn’t he rung her? She’d rung several times. Each time his secretary took the call and said she’d pass on her message as soon as he got back.

Looking around, she could see row upon row of plastic trees, bushes and flowers. Their leaves and flowers vibrated with laser. The bark of the trees was an earthy brown, more real than the real it was said. The flowers would open as you approached, triggering hidden sensors to release fragrances and laser images of butterflies and humming birds.

Over to her right she saw several paddle boats on an artificial lake. They bobbed up and down, jostling one another as if to say use me. She smiled and headed toward them. As she did so, a deer appeared at the edge of a nearby copse. It gazed at her with great soft eyes and then shyly ran back into the shade. She knew it, as well as everything else here, was only an image. That’s why it was all so beautiful. The real thing would have been horrible. Here, everything is beautifully clean, she thought.

Reaching the jetty, she marvelled at the play of laser light upon the lake. Sometimes green, sometimes blue, with crocodile and hippopotami shapes erupting from the water’s surface at a distance where they could be properly viewed. She stepped into a small yellow paddle boat with the curious name ‘Liberty’. Instead of choosing automatic, she pushed manual.

As she pedalled, the image of pink flamingo taking flight made the day’s events seem less important. Happiland, she thought, you’re doing it again. It had never failed to send her into raptures of delight. She decided she would abandon herself to fate. After all, what was the worst that could happen? Time would pass and all would be forgotten. Fortune would favour her again. She braved a smile. And if the unthinkable happened and she was not on the list for the banquet, she would come here. Happiland would always be here, she mused, trying to hide her disappointment.

Still hurting at Arron’s silence, she paddled toward some reeds. She remembered how her mother would always whisper on passing the reeds, ‘Tell me if you see any crocodiles, won’t you?’ as if they were real and dangerous! What a laugh, she thought.

Passing the reeds, she saw a crocodile slip off a bank and sink into the lilac-tinted water. As she paddled on, an odd shape caught her eye. She pedalled toward it. As she drew closer, she began to doubt her eyes. Surely it couldn’t be real? She paddled slowly closer, hoping it would disappear. But it didn’t. She stopped pedalling and stared at it. It looked like an arm. How ugly, she thought. So white and sticking up like that. How in the Codes could it have got there?

Paddling back to the jetty, she decided she would report it. Before doing so, she took a last long look back to make doubly sure it was not an illusion. She still did not know whether it was real or not but, either way, it should be reported. It looked like an arm. It was horrible. She flipped her telecom open and, even before she pushed the single key to contact Security, she knew if that was an arm, it would be big news.