REVELATION: Book One of THE RECARN CHRONICLES (21 page)

Scientists had recently
experienced a breakthrough. Doctors had used the human growth
hormone (HGH) for decades to treat growth deficiencies in children
and adults, but had been unable to gain any positive reaction when
implanted into clone babies. In fact, initially there had been no
effect whatsoever. But when the research scientists increased the
dosage of HGH to what should have been intolerable levels they
recorded the first positive signs of accelerated growth in clone
babies.

Their euphoria was, however,
short-lived. The growth rate of the babies increased significantly
until they were faced with a clone baby that was growing at a rate
of one year’s physical maturity every twenty-four hours.
Unfortunately the scientists hadn’t managed to find a way to slow
down the growth rate and after eighty days they were left with an
eighty day old clone that looked like an eighty year old human, and
that died soon after. The obvious solution would be to apply an
equal measure of a growth inhibiting hormone (GHIH) on the
twentieth day, halting the unnatural rate of growth and leaving a
twenty day old clone (with the appearance of a twenty year old
adult) who would then continue to grow at the normal human growth
rate. This had been unsuccessful so far but Thomas demanded that
experiments to transfer a human soul into an adult clone should
continue, regardless. He wasn’t concerned that the clone would
probably only live another sixty days. He certainly didn’t consider
the clones as people.

The clone was physically
sound. It could move its limbs, it could breathe unaided, and it
could blink its eyes when necessary. All the normal involuntary
actions that we humans do without even thinking, the clone could
also do. It was a beautiful specimen, with long blond hair, full
rounded breasts, a slim waist, perfectly proportioned hips and long
legs that many women would be rightfully envious of. In fact, it
was the spitting image of a young university student, Trudi DeWitt,
who had been plucked off the street in the same manner as Ami, and
whose ashes were now part of the atmosphere, having served their
latest purpose of providing energy to the National Power Grid. If
they could have seen it Trudi’s parents would have sworn that this
body in the other half of the soul transference appliance was
indeed their daughter, but the clone was missing one important
component. It didn’t have a soul. It was a shell, acting upon basic
instinctive impulses.

Todd Jones had been present
at the first ever successful soul transfer experiment and had been
involved in almost all experiments since. He often wondered what
had happened to his colleague, Wolzenik but he didn’t miss him.
Wolzenik’s sudden disappearance had left a vacancy for a senior lab
technician, a position which he gratefully accepted.

Professor Ivanov took his
surgical scalpel and drew it across Ami’s belly, pressing harder
until a gaping wound opened up. Blood trickled down her body and
through the 1cm holes into a drip-tray below. She had passed out.
The professor drew the baby from its mother’s womb, having first
clamped off the umbilical cord. This was probably unnecessary,
bearing in mind what was to follow, but it had become a habit for
the doctor to do this.

The baby was placed into the
donor incubator and the lid closed, the rubber seals preventing
unwanted air from entering or leaving. A button was pressed and the
air was sucked out of the baby’s incubator. The new-born started to
show the same symptoms as Ray Greenway had seven years earlier; she
didn’t survive very long. Her mother had already died from severe
loss of blood.

The activity monitors picked
up movement from the baby’s soul – it was leaving the body. The
same network of airlocks guided the released soul into the
incubator where the clone was waiting.

“Professor! The soul has
completed the transfer. The clone has a soul. We’ve done
it!”

The professor looked over
his spectacles at his subordinate.

“You mean I’ve done it
Jones. I’ve done it. Not we.”

“Of course sir.”

The professor addressed the
rest of his staff.

“OK. Well done everybody.
Cunningham – tell the Clone Care team to come and collect this new
creation. She may only live a couple more months but there’s a lot
of information we can gain by observing her. Riddle, you can
dispose of the baby, and Watson – you can get rid of the mother.
Jones will supervise you. He’s quite the expert now. Bryant, you
and Young can clean up in here. I’m going to my office and shall
celebrate with an excellent twelve year-old Scotch
whisky.”

The clone observation team were busy making their laboratory
as clean and orderly as possible. They had received a message that
the Pindar himself, Thomas McCall, would be paying them a visit, an
event that didn't happen often and was akin to a royal visit. A
young bespectacled man in a crisp white lab coat slid through the
door, stopping sharply when the soles of his shoes suddenly gained
traction.

"He's here! Look busy!"

Just as employees had done for decades when facing a visit
from top management, people opened spreadsheets on their computers
and picked up their interactive clip-boards in an effort to look
industrious. Actually the laboratory staff had plenty of time to
prepare themselves before Thomas hauled his way into the
laboratory, placing his crutches before him and all but dragging
his legs behind him. It was an ungainly way of moving around but
Thomas was determined not to give in and resort to the use of a
wheelchair. He was greeted by a smiling Professor Ingram, the head
of the Clone Development and Observation department.

"Mr. Pindar, sir. Welcome to our humble abode."

Thomas returned neither the smile nor the
pleasantry.

"Where's the clone then? I don't have all day."

He was led to a corner of the room where a fifty-nine year old
woman was laying in an oversized cot. The young woman of twenty
years of age that had received the baby's soul had been replaced by
an older version of herself - still attractive, but with a few
lines that had been given to her by the aging process, and more
than a few grey hairs. The oversized nappy that she wore was a
stark reminder that this was still - in essence - a baby, complete
with a baby's physical and mental limitations, unable to fend for
herself, unable to do anything other than what all fifty-nine day
old babies can do... sleep, cry, eat (although having teeth the
clone was able to eat normal food), and fill her nappy.

Thomas turned to Professor Ingram.

“That’s it, is it? Billions of pounds of research money and
all you can show me is a giant baby?”

“We are making progress, sir.”

“What progress? I can’t see any bloody progress.”

“With your authorisation, I’d like to try approaching the
problem from a slightly different angle.”

"What angle would that be?"

"Well sir, perhaps we should try passing a soul into a very
young clone, perhaps - I hesitate to use the word – a baby. Maybe
the clone needs a soul from the start, not added later. The adult
clones look mature, but they’re like a computer without an
operating system. Totally useless. Look at Trudi 001."

"Trudi 001?"

“We assign a unique identifier to them according to the name
of the original stem cell donor. This is the first clone grown from
a donor named Trudi. I don’t know what her surname was.”

“And I’m not interested in her surname, or how you catalogue
the products.”

"The donor will have to be a Recarn, but we’re having trouble
getting volunteers; people are fine about soul-transference from
human to human – after all, that’s just a natural part of the life
process, but moving the soul into a clone – a clone that has
unresolvable problems as yet, that’s frightening people
off.”

“Why does the donor need to be a Recarn?”

“Because, sir, we Recarns remember our past lives when we are
seven years old. The point of the project is to transfer a Recarn
soul into a clone, is it not? If the donor is a Recarn, it will
understand our objectives better and can give us a valuable insight
into the process. But, as I said, getting Recarn volunteers is
proving difficult these days.”

Thomas didn’t much care for the attitude of Professor Ingram.
He found it condescending. The man was an employee, not even a
member of the Illuminati. Did he think that he would let a little
thing like a shortage of volunteers get in the way of
progress?

"I don’t see a problem, Professor Ingram. We're surrounded by
Recarns here."

"But we need to find a volunteer, someone who is willing to
die for the cause. Volunteers can be hard to come by. I’d certainly
think twice about volunteering. Even though I understand the
project’s importance."

"A volunteer? Do you seriously think that we need volunteers?
That’s easily resolved. Thank you for volunteering Professor
Ingram. Guards restrain this man!"

Two armed guards rushed into the room, forced Professor
Ingram's hands behind his back and bound his wrists with malleable
hand cuffs which moulded themselves into perfectly fitting one
piece wrist restraints, which could only be opened with the correct
solvent. Professor Ingram started to panic.

"But you need me. I'm in charge of this unit."

"Not anymore you're not, Ingram. You're nothing more than a
glorified baby-sitter and nappy-changer. Anybody can do your
job."

Thomas turned to Professor Ingram's chief assistant who was
standing with his mouth open, as if he were catching flies. The
guards and their prisoner left the room.

"What's your name?"

"Parsons, sir, Colin Parsons."

"Well, Colin Parsons, you're Professor Colin Parsons now.
You're in charge."

The newly promoted Professor Parsons had always wanted
promotion but he was unsure how to react to this sudden career
advancement and could only stutter his gratitude. Thomas
continued.

"Professor Parsons. Do you have any new-born clones in
stock?"

Parsons had recovered his composure. We are expecting to have
three clone babies ready in three days’ time, sir."

"Excellent. I want at least one prepped for soul transference
as soon as it is ready."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."

Thomas made a rather clumsy 360° turn; he was glad that he
wouldn’t have to rely on his crutches for much longer. He made his
way out of the laboratory, flanked by the two remaining
guards.

Professor Parsons ordered an assistant to check the clone
inventory.

“What are the product IDs of the three products due on
Monday?”

“Carlos 004, Peter 003, and Trudi 002, professor.”

“Let’s keep it in the family. Assign Trudi 002 for the human
adult to clone baby transference at 10 a.m. on Monday morning.
Professor Ingram always had an eye for the women. Now he can be
one”

Professor Ingram was wheeled into the laboratory, strapped to
the trolley and flanked by two armed guards. He was naked except
for a light sheet that covered him, not to preserve his modesty but
to spare the blushes of any non-medical staff that they may pass in
the corridors. The straps binding him were fastened very tightly in
order to limit his movements and he was also gagged to prevent him
from crying out. The Transfer team would have liked to have sedated
him, but they couldn’t risk anything chemical affecting the
experiment; everything had to be scientifically perfect. They
didn’t know how Professor Ingo would react when placed in the
donation capsule; perhaps he would be resigned to his fate and
succumb to what was about to happen to him, or perhaps he would
struggle and endanger both the laboratory staff and the delicate
equipment that was used in these experiments. They would have to
cross that bridge when they came to it. The calibration of dosage
of the Human Growth Hormone was critical to the experiment and they
couldn’t risk adding a third variable. That was why they also had
four security men in the laboratory, ready to subdue him at the
slightest hint of violent behaviour.

Professor Ingram was a scientist and having analysed the
possibilities of escape, and finding them to be non-existent, he
didn’t see the point of fighting. Even if he did manage to make a
break for it there would still be the two armed guards outside the
door. Besides, he knew that he’d be reborn in another body; it
wouldn’t be the complete end of him, just this particular
life.

He climbed into the donation chamber, reluctantly but without
incident and watched as the transparent lid was closed, trapping
him inside his laboratorial coffin. Product Trudi 002, the clone
baby, was brought into the room and placed into the receiving
chamber. Research had shown that clones were created bereft of
souls, they were driven by instinct and, if left to mature without
a soul being transferred into their body, they would simply remain
unable to function independently,