“What the actual fuck…” I said
Two people dressed in biohazard suits appeared from a side room. I tensed up as they approached.
They took Caleb Mark II gently by the elbows and led him away. Not-quite-Mercedes waited till they left before continuing down the rows of suspended clones.
“I’m … I’m just a clone?”
Not-quite-Mercedes stopped to look at me, “No,” he replied turning back around.
I took my chance and grabbed his revolver that was tucked into his belt.
Pointing the gun at the row upon row of glass tubes, “Tell me what the fuck is going on, or I pull the trigger. Do you know how many of these tubes will explode before the bullets velocity diminishes? Shall we find out?” I cocked the pistol.
“Caleb. Please don’t,” a voice said to my left.
A woman in a lab coat walked closer, her hands held in front of her, “If you pull that trigger it will be akin to killing your own children. After all, you are the original DNA donor. You are, the real Caleb.”
My hand wavered, “I am? How?”
“Yes. Lila. She gave us a few strands of your hair,” she said stepping closer. Her eyes was an amazing green, her hair was fiery red, pulled back in a high ponytail.
“Why me?” I asked.
“Because you were the perfect subject. American passport, so you could travel freely, but most importantly, you had an illness similar to the Senator’s wife. Stage three Glioma. Yes you are the original, but you were also just a guinea pig.”
“Huh…” was all I got out before her hand snaked out like lightning, hitting my wrist. My fingers went numb and the gun fell out of my hands where she grabbed it mid-air and handed it back to Not-quite-Mercedes behind her without even looking at him.
“Sorry about that, but I can’t have you killing our babies.”
Not-quite-Mercedes moved behind me this time, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
“Our babies?” I ask moving forward as Not-quite-Mercedes gave me shove in the back.
“The clones need male and female DNA, just like real old fashioned procreation to work. I used mine,” she said.
“Well, what now?”
“Now we stick you in a PET scanner and see what those nanintes have been up to,” she said.
With very little choice in the matter I followed Doctor Red. She stopped in front of a pressure sealed door and entered a code into a keypad. The door slid open with a hiss and we entered what pretty much looked like a hospital emergency room.
There were more people in white coats and biohazard suits walking around checking clones in beds doing various eye and reflex tests.
Screens adorned the walls with rapidly flashing images, it looked like they were teaching the clones various rudimental skills.
Languages, geography and hand to hand combat.
Some of the workers stopped and stared as we walked past.
We entered a smaller room where the PET scan machine was held, a smaller glass room was adjacent to it, rows of high definition screens against the wall connected to computers that would analyze the scan.
“Do I need to take my clothes off?” I asked slightly concerned, it was cold in here.
“Don’t flatter yourself. Just lie down on the bed and don’t move,” Doctor Red said.
I obeyed and stretched out on the bed. It was surprisingly comfortable. I heard a buzz and the bed slid into the scanner.
The lights dimmed and music started playing, Enya? Haven’t heard Enya in ages … was she still alive?
The bed and the music relaxed me, I was shattered. The entire night had been one cluster fuck after another. It all seemed like a mad dream lying here. I nearly dozed off when the music stopped and the bed slid out of the scanner.
Doctor Red was waiting at the foot of the bed.
“Well, I have some good news and I have some bad news,” She said.
“Of course you do,” I replied.
“The good news is, your tumor is gone.”
My jaw hit the floor.
“The bad news is, there are still a few nanite stragglers in your body. The must have rebooted when you got electrocuted and didn’t respond to their commands.”
“Great, now what?” I said.