Cloner A Sci-Fi Novel About Human Clonin

Chapter 17

The house, hushed and enveloping, hugged Lisa’s secret within its massive walls. She reassured herself that her family was sheltered, protected by the solid structure. The dark outside intensified as Lisa switched on soft lighting in her bedroom, in the bathroom leading away from that. She felt the events of this afternoon fading from immediacy, felt released enough to pamper herself with a relaxing bath, to plunge herself into hot water laden with Badedas-perfumed bubbles.

Lying in the silken liquid, unleashing her experiences of the last few hours, Lisa wondered whether she was the only mother who had a child like Janus. She needed someone she could tell her thoughts to, someone to share her fears and her anxieties with. Above all, she needed someone she could trust to listen to her.

Thinking about it convinced Lisa that she couldn’t tell Alec about what had happened. Even if she could get him to take notice of what she was trying to tell him he’d never believe her incredible story. She thought back to the way he’d assumed she, not Geraldine, had been the problem when she’d tried to tell him how the girl had let her down after the party. He’d taken Geraldine’s part. He thought more about the wretched girl than about her! If she now started telling him about Don, if she tried to explain how he’d buried the dead clone to help her and indirectly, of course, Frank, Alec would, she was sure, find such a story completely unacceptable.

Her husband lived in his own world, away from hers, involved in his career, driven by his ambitions. He wasn’t prepared to accept that she, or his family, had difficulties in their lives. Not because he didn’t love them, Lisa was sure he loved them dearly. He simply needed everything in their world to be right, under control, properly ordered. Like the digits in his ledgers, she supposed. He was an accountant, he dealt in figures, in matters of known fact. If she told Alec she’d seen a fourth baby, identical to Janus, in the bath, that Janus had cloned a virtually still-born brother, then followed this by telling him she suspected that Don had stolen the body in order to bury it in their garden late at night, Alec’s most likely reaction would be to think he’d been right all along - she was unstable, about to have a mental breakdown. He might even think she’d already lost her reason and send an ambulance round!

What about Meg? Why not confide in her? Meg would believe her. She already suspected that Jeffrey and James had cloned in the womb. But something held Lisa back: the troubled brown eyes, the uncharacteristic shiftiness of late. Meg had her own burdens. Lisa hadn’t the energy to work out what they might be.

An image of Trevor came into her mind. Trevor was used to the quirks of creative people; they were his living. She could talk to Trevor. He would let her chatter, pour out her misgivings. He would calm her down. But he wasn’t the man to confide in about this afternoon’s happenings. She had, after all, sounded him out before on that point. Though he’d always been ready to help her in a friendly way, she was sure he wouldn’t wish to be involved, to share any real responsibilities. And why should he?

Perhaps Don’s instincts had been wise. The old countryman, level-headed and experienced, had known what to do. Bury the evidence, let sleeping clones lie - undisturbed, undisturbing.

That left only one course of action open to her. She’d have to make absolutely sure that nothing like this could ever happen again. She must prevent further cloning at all costs. Janus - and she now had proof that it was only Janus she had to worry about - must always have something fixed to him which neither he, nor any casual meddler, could remove. Something extraneous fastened to his body - a foreign object, something which could not clone itself - would stop the cloning. But it had to be a tight fit, had to stop the cloner’s body from being able to discard it, or split inside it. Metal, Don had insisted, was better than clothing. What could she do? She couldn’t force her triplets to wear bracelets all through their childhood. In any case, the bracelets were already becoming tight, and they were too intrusive. Relieving Janus of his constricting band was precisely what had caused her earlier predicament.

She weighed up possibilities in her mind: bracelets on the triplets’ ankles rather than on their wrists, for example. No more useful than the present system, and harder to keep a check on. Perhaps a silver chain around each child’s neck, small nametag attached, like soldiers’ identification tabs?

None of these ideas worked. And a chain could easily be taken off, might even be dangerous. There must be something suitable! A ring, perhaps? She laughed out loud at that. She could give Trevor a ring right away. That was the sort of problem he would be happy to discuss, to help her with. His pleasant friendly voice would make her feel better. She dripped out of the bath, sheeted her body in luxurious towelling, lay on her bed. Reasonably relaxed, she tapped Trevor’s number on the keypad.

A soft, low ‘Hello’ answered after the second ring. It didn’t sound like Trevor. Too young - and too come-hitherish, for that matter.

‘That you, Trev?’

There was a pause, and then a high-pitched irritated voice spluttered ‘Who wants him?’ down the line. Leo, Lisa guessed at once; Leo discouraging all Trevor’s entanglements other than himself. Thinking about it, Lisa felt sure even Leo could not be jealous of her, though Trevor had warned her about his possessiveness. The mother of four children under three could hardly be considered a sexual threat by anyone, Lisa decided firmly.

‘It’s Lisa Wildmore here, one of his clients,’ she cooed. ‘I just wanted a tiny word with him.’

‘Lisa Wildmore?’ There was a pause as Leo screened the information. ‘Ah, yes; I’ve heard about you. The one with triplets!’ His voice rang out triumphant, lightened into friendliness. ‘How are you getting on?’

‘Rather too busy,’ she said, hoping not to sound curt. ‘Trying to keep some semblance of normality.’ Clearly she could not talk to Trevor now, but she could, at least, ask him about her very practical problem.

‘Poor you. I’ll get himself for you.’

Trev was on the line within seconds. ‘Lisa? Anything wrong?’

‘Sorry, Trev. I didn’t mean to intrude. Just thought you’d be the right person to solve a rather tricky issue for me.’

‘Anything I can do, my dear.’

‘The triplets have outgrown their silver bracelets, so they’ve got to come off. I’m still worried about the babies getting muddled up, and Alec only laughs at me. Any ideas about something less officious we could use?’

She heard the scraping of a chair, presumably Trevor making himself more comfortable. There was the sound of a slight scuffle, then a giggle.

‘Trevor? Are you still there?’

‘I’m looking at the perfect solution,’ he told her gaily.

‘Looking at it?’

‘The elegant Leo. He wears a darling little earring in his left ear.’

A tiny earring, the sort that people wore to keep a pierced ear open. ‘That’s brilliant, Trev,’ she sighed. ‘You’re absolutely marvellous.’

‘Any time, darling. We’re just off to the opera.’

‘I won’t keep you. Thanks a million - well, thank Leo!’

Lisa clicked the cordless off, carefully placed it into its charger. She would have to think of some reasonable excuse to have an earring put in Janus’s ear. Not only his, of course; Jeffrey’s and James’s as well. And then it came to her full force. The real reason was the best reason. They needed earrings so that people outside the family could tell the triplets apart. And if the children were to go to Anne Marsden’s playschool that’s exactly the sort of identifying mark which would work.

Just one more problem she had to solve. The rings had to be easy to distinguish, made from different materials. They were already manifesting in her mind. Each ring could be made of a different metal, showing as different colourings. Colour-coded, just like their clothes.

Gold, Lisa worked out instantly, for Janus. The nearest metallic colour to yellow, so very appropriate. Bronze for Jeffrey, perhaps, to approximate to red. And finally a silver ring for James. All she’d have to do was arrange for a jeweller to insert a tiny earring by that curious mark they had by their left earlobes, the mark which proved above all else that they were identicals.

A smile crossed Lisa’s lips at last. She would discuss earrings with Alec the next day. Meanwhile she would dispose of any remnants of that afternoon. She walked determinedly to the children’s bathroom, collected the bundled bathmat, the towels, the whole load of laundry soiled with the day’s events, together. The yawn of washing machine stood open wide, ready to bleach the linen into innocence. She jumbled stained washing into the porthole. The machine dutifully swallowed the evidence, secreted it behind lathering suds. The soft hum of the motor, rocking its load, reverberated throughout the house, a lullaby for oblivion.





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