World War

2. GETTING TO KNOW A NEW WORLD

2

GETTING TO KNOW A NEW WORLD

"What do you mean the clone was a man?

"Mr. Slice, you know I wouldn't lie to you. The replicant we took out of the CR47 an hour ago was a man. I don't know who he was but believe me, I know a p***s and scrotum when I see them."

Slice was infuriated. The ReLife project had been a constant thorn in his a*s for over two years. Several years ago, when he and the other World Council members first heard of ReLife they found the idea tantalizing and supported it. It fit perfectly with a couple of projects they had wrestled unsuccessfully with for years. If human cloning could become a reality, the World Council's leadership and geopolitical problems would be solved. He was so pleased when he was assigned oversight of ReLife by the Council. Now, two years later, he regretted the day he first heard that Phoenvartis had a way to produce human clones.

It was one roadblock after another. Direct sabotage of the CR47 incubator followed by manipulation of the ReLife schedule. Then the incubator was used to unnecessarily recreate an ape who was killed along with a consulting scientist from the Congo, a very important scientist who wielded a good amount of influence in central Africa.

Slice mistakenly believed things couldn't get worse. The mismanagement of ReLife had to get better after Klaus Ekstrom was severely injured in a bombing at his girlfriend's apartment. The girlfriend who was a mole for a revolutionary group in Europe. The same woman who collected intelligence on ReLife by sleeping with Phoenvartis executives.

When Claude called, he was ecstatic to hear the clone was a perfect human reproduction. Upbeat and happy until Claude announced the clone was a man, not the woman. What happened to the female remains he’d personally packaged and sent to Klaus?

The woman's body parts were rare, and the only samples known to exist. Someone had obviously switched host samples. He cared less about the clone who was replicated than his host samples. He needed to find those samples, otherwise most of the World Council's goals would go up in smoke. This was in addition to the credibility he was losing with his peers on the World Council every time something went wrong. He didn't want to think about the consequences of not finding her samples.

Things had spiraled out of control and Slice would have to take a more direct role in the continuation of ReLife. "Claude, here's what I want you to do. First, take several images of the male clone and send them to me. Next, I want you to spend as much time with Rollie Sweats as possible. He is most likely the leading candidate for being the culprit who switched the host samples. It's critical that I find those samples. It will be a big feather in your cap if you can discover what Sweats did with the World Council host samples."

By the time Slice finished, Claude had a list of a half-dozen assignments. The most important was shadowing Rollie to find the World Council samples. He didn't know what Slice meant by a ‘big feather in your cap’ but assumed there was a major reward for finding the missing samples. None of the six assignments were dangerous or difficult, but all would take time to complete.

"Claude, do you have any questions about what I want?"

"Mr. Slice, I understand completely. But I do have one question. With my uncle in the hospital, who will run Phoenvartis?"

Slice wanted to tell Claude the truth by saying his uncle never had control of the company. He had been a failure from day one who let the inmates run the prison and allowed his s****l deviance to taint good judgment and leadership.

"Claude, I'm running Phoenvartis. For the time being, you'll be my eyes and ears at Phoenvartis. Maybe sometime in the future, you can assume a bigger role in the company's management and direction."

There was another subtle hint from Slice that he might be an upper management candidate. "How are you going to direct the company from England, or wherever you are?

"I'll be there on campus quite a bit in the future. Do you have any further questions?"

"No, that's all, Mr. Slice."

"Good. Keep an eye on things and report daily to me. The ReLife project is the most important thing. Report everything related to ReLife. Understand?"

Before Claude could respond, Slice broke the connection. He had a World Council meeting to attend in twenty minutes and needed time to prepare. He brought up the auto-secretary feature on his CPS station and spoke a letter into it.

To: Phoenvartis Associates

From: Your World Council

We are deeply sorry to report that your company CEO, Klaus Ekstrom, has been injured in a terrorist bombing. This is another unfortunate example of the mentally deranged who walk among us. These terrorists want to destroy the safe and pleasant living conditions all law-abiding citizens enjoy throughout the world. Your World Council will hunt down and bring to justice those responsible for this anarchy and crimes against society. Rest assured, we are concerned about your safe and secure existence.

During Mr. Ekstrom's convalescence, our representative, Mr. Sedgewick Slice, will be directing the day-to-day activities at Phoenvartis. He will arrive on campus within the next week. We expect you to follow Mr. Slice's direction to a new level of superior performance. Remember, your cooperation affects the lives of all citizens.

Slice sat back and reread his letter several times. When he was satisfied with the content and wording, he left his office for the World Council meeting. It wasn't going to be easy explaining another failure to his peers. For a moment, he considered not saying anything about the clone being a man instead of their female host. It took about two seconds to see the stupidity of that thought. With the number of snitches each member of the Council had, there was zero chance of the clone screw-up staying secret. There was a good chance the Council already knew the clone was a man, considering how fast news leaked out of Phoenvartis.

As Slice took the podium to present his report on the clone debacle, Rollie was sitting in the primate lab observing the only human clone on the planet. The replicant had awakened about a half hour earlier. It took over twenty minutes for the cobwebs to clear enough so he could attempt lifting off the temperature-controlled bed. His arms and legs were weak from non-use and he was in his third attempt to reach a sitting position. The exercise equipment Raul put in the primate lab was going to get a lot of use.

Rollie was the only team member in the lab with the replicant. The remaining team members were behind a one-way window watching and recording everything taking place in the lab. There was a unanimous belief that only one person should greet the replicant when he woke up. Having more than one team member might result in some type of sensory overload. The last thing they needed was the first human clone freaking out in fear or withdrawal.

Claude returned to the observation room after contacting Slice. "Has he said anything yet?"

"No, he's trying to get off the bed. It's like watching a new colt trying to stand up after birth."

At that moment, the clone swung his legs off the bed and sat erect. His arms crossed over his lap and his head hung forward on his chest. He stayed in that position for five minutes, building up enough energy to raise his head and scan the lab.

When his eyes fell upon Rollie, he asked, "Does thou have wine?"

Rollie didn't know whether to laugh or be serious. He hadn’t expected the clone to speak a variation of older English and make wine his first request. He could understand how a replicant might ask for something to drink, but wine? What was that all about? This guy, whoever he was, obviously had a love for the nectar squeezed and fermented from grapes.

"White or red?"

"Red, kind sir."

Rollie activated his micromic and spoke to Raul. "Can you have one of your guys get a bottle of Merlot or Cab and bring it down here, pronto?"

Without thinking, Raul responded loudly enough so the replicant could overhear his response. "Will do, Rollie."

The replicant's eyes doubled in size. "Sir, there are ghosts or evil spirits in the room with us?"

"No, I asked a friend to bring your wine." Rollie paused for a moment to think about how to explain Raul's voice to the replicant. He finally elected to try the truth, even though it would sound stranger than a lie.

Rollie stood up, walked over to the one-way window and turned back to the replicant. "Behind this window are a few men like me. You can't see them because the glass is only one-way. But they can see you."

He then walked toward the replicant and continued his explanation. "This little device on my collar is how I talk to the men behind the one-way window. You heard me request your wine and then one of them responded with ‘Will Do, Rollie’. In other words, a man on the other side of that window is retrieving your wine now. And, by the way, my name is Rollie."

The two men stared at each other for what seemed like an hour. Rollie wondered if his explanation made any sense to the replicant. And the replicant was trying to decide if the man who spoke strangely was mentally ill, playing a prank or drunk. Whatever this man's ploy, the replicant realized he was in no condition to overpower his jailer. He felt very weak and hoped the wine was really on its way. Besides, if he could escape, where could he go buck-n***d?

Their staring contest was interrupted by Raul. "Rollie, I've put the wine in the interlock. You'll find glasses and a corkscrew in the kitchen area."

The replicant looked toward Rollie's shirt collar which is where he thought the phantom sounds came from. Maybe that part of the jailer's story was true.

"Thanks, Raul."

Rollie retrieved the bottle of wine and poured a glass for the clone. In two gulps the clone drained the glass and held it out for a refill. This time, Rollie doubled the amount in the glass. The replicant took another large drink and then put the glass on the floor between his feet. The wine seemed to have invigorated him and given him enough energy to stand up. He wrapped the bed sheet around his n***d body and tested his legs and balance. Neither had been used for centuries.

After a few minutes, he could take small, cautious steps like an infant learning to walk. Soon he was walking with more authority but still had to catch himself every so often when his balance became wobbly. He retrieved his glass of wine and proceeded to walk around the lab asking Rollie question after question.

"Sir, what is this large box?"

"That's a cooler. It keeps things cold until they are used. Here, let me open it for you."

"This box will keepeth meat from lacking valor after butchered?"

Lacking valor? What was that? The clone's English was getting harder to understand so Rollie turned on his micromic to talk with his fellow team members. "Do any of you understand this dialect of English?"

Rollie didn't expect Claude, the German national, to respond. "Rollie, it sounds like early modern English to me."

Once again, Rollie marveled at Claude's worldly knowledge. The young man obviously had interests and a life outside of Phoenvartis.

Rollie spoke "settings" into his micromic and then followed with, "Broadcast. Translate early English to modern English and vice-versa." He made sure his fellow team members could hear his database instructions, so they could do the same if the translation was correct.

Hopefully, Claude knew what he was talking about. Understanding the clone would be easier when the micromic translated and broadcast each dialect of English. The only hard part would be waiting for the micromic to repeat the translated sentences.

"Yes, that is one of the things this box will do. Foods will keep fresh longer than if they sat out in the open air on this shelf, for example."

Rollie was amazed by how fast the micromic translated his sentences and broadcast them loud enough for the clone to hear. It sounded like a foreign language, but the expression on the clone's face showed how much he appreciated the translated version in his own tongue.

Rollie opened the cooler door and said, "Put your hand into the box."

The clone was reluctant to do as his jailer suggested. After all, this guy might be mentally deranged. When he hesitated too long, Rollie stuck his hand in and then withdrew it.

His jailer, the one who called himself Rollie, was still in good health from what he could see. His hand and arm looked fine. He took a chance and put his hand in the cooler. He could feel the cold work its way up his arm. He withdrew his arm to examine it. There was no damage like frostbite, not even a mark or evidence of a burn. For the next five minutes, he played with the cooler's refrigeration trying to understand the science of this invisible force.

The clone moved into the kitchen and started examining all the eating utensils and food preparation appliances. "What is this, sir?"

Rollie was hoping the clone would bypass the high frequency, sound-induction heater. The science behind this way of cooking food was far beyond the clone's comprehension. Rather than try to explain this appliance, Rollie got a piece of ham from the refrigerator and put it in the heater. He turned it on for five seconds and then removed the ham. He tore off a piece and put it in his mouth and then gave the rest to the clone.

"It is hot, sir. Is there fire in this box?"

"There is a different type of fire in this box. Not like the fire you know." Rollie contemplated going on with a description of how the high frequency, sound-induction cooked food. But he elected to drop the idea because he couldn't think of a simple analogy to use.

"This is most mysterious, sir. I don't understand this witchcraft, but I admit, the food tastes good."

The clone continued his survey of the lab. Rollie was waiting for the other awkward questions about how the lights worked and why there were no windows in the lab.

"Why can't I see outdoors?"

Here we go, Rollie thought to himself. "This part of the building is underground."

"Do you mean like a storage basement?"

"A little deeper than that. This room is almost a quarter mile or about a half kilometer under the earth."

Just when he started to believe Rollie was sane, such balderdash came from the jailer's mouth. A half kilometer. "Does he think I'm an i***t to believe such nonsense"?

Rollie knew his answer about being so far underground destroyed his credibility. He should have said nothing more than they were underground. There was no good reason to assign a depth. It was too late now to do anything about it. Rollie concluded this was the first of many times his answers were going to sound insane to the clone.

"What is your name, sir?" Rollie hoped this simple question would take the clone's mind off the crazy surprises of the modern world.

The clone turned to face Rollie, finished the rest of the wine and said, "I'm not sure, sir. It might be Randolph or Thomas, but I don't know. May I have more wine, sir?"

"Did he say Randolph or Thomas? Thomas or Randolph who? Can you guys think of anyone famous with the name Thomas or Randolph?” Claude, Helmer, and Raul were all in deep thought trying to identify the clone's host and didn’t respond.

Rollie was also trying to piece together the clues to identify the clone. He now had two possible names for the man who spoke a variation of early modern English. The micromic's database had identified his English as the dialect spoken from the 16th to the 18th century. This man knew his wine and loved to drink it. He had a ravenous curiosity for knowledge and understood the basic principles of food preservation. If only he could remember what Grandma LeeLee said about the box engraved with the letter ‘H’ and whose remains were in it.

The clone continued to walk through the lab touching, smelling and asking questions about everything he encountered.

At the only door to the lab, he stopped and asked, "What is an interlock, sir?"

This wasn't going to be easy to explain so Rollie opened the first door, so the clone could see the second door. "To leave this room you must go through two doors. This is the first one and that is the second one. The second door won't unlock until the first door shuts and locks."

The clone thought about Rollie's explanation for a moment and then asked, "Why two doors?"

"Good question. There used to be a wild animal in this room, so we wanted to make sure it didn't escape."

"What type of animal?"

"Do you know what an ape is?"

"Yes. I remember seeing one. It was in a cage somewhere."

"You don't remember where you saw it?"

"No. It might come to me later. Why was an ape in here?"

Rollie had to think fast and come up with a plausible answer. "We were testing a new product on the ape." Rollie prayed the clone wouldn't ask him what new product.

"Will I be able to leave this room, sir?"

Rollie realized the clone considered this large room as nothing more than an elaborate jail cell. "Yes, but first we want you to build up your strength and get acclimated to your surroundings. Plus, we want to test your physical condition to make sure you are in good health. And, we want to give you training on what you'll see and hear once you leave this room." Rollie intentionally left out the battery of psychological tests the clone would be subjected to. Until these tests were completed there would be no leaving the lab unless it was an emergency.

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.