Stranger than Science Fiction

   Mr. Jones could scarcely believe his eyes as his older colleague, a man who shouldn’t have been there, appeared before him in the dimly lit room. It could have been the strong drink in his hand, but he could that the man before him had no scars on his face, no broken bones and no limp in his gait as he strolled into the lounge. The time was half-past seven, and Mr. Jones was just finishing his Irish Coffee. Chris worked at a biogenetic laboratory that conducted animal testing and genetic based testing to discover ways to manipulate and clone DNA to cure viruses and enhance life for all people. While the end product was created for society, all products had to be tested by animals first. It was here that the ever-present threat for cancer had been cured, and also reversed such that people who had experienced the decay of cells from the cancer would end up better off that when the cancer made itself known inside the individual’s body and began to take over. The most cutting-edge technologies were being used for gene splicing and manipulation to create new organisms that would be better that the organisms with the original genes.

   Yet here, in front of him, lay an impossibility, for the man who was in front of him, wearing a white lab coat over cotton blue long-sleeve blue jeans and a pair of suede shoes, was dead. In fact, he died a little over a week ago, or so was reported by the boss who had received a transcript from the hospital in regards to Charlie’s condition. Charlie was a fellow scientist who had a keen interest specifically in extending life. Charlie walked over to Chris. Chris was sitting in a comfy armchair, feeling like this was an out-of-body experience and wondering if he was going to end up waking up in his home, seeing this as just a dream. The man smiled at Jones. “It is good to see you, it’s been awhile.” 

   Mr. Jones looked up at him, and saw his face eager. “It has, I didn’t realize that you came back, I thought you were still in the hospital. I mean to say, I didn’t think you made it after the ordeal.”

   “It was awful, and the decision I was faced with was difficult, but it is good to be back. I wanted to offer a proposition, if you are available. But first, I wanted to see the research on your new nootropic drug that you’re testing that contains L-Theanine and helps people with focus. I heard that it reverses the effects of Altheimer’s disease and prevents degenerative heart failure in patients with high blood pressure.” 

   Mr. Jones thought for a minute, then got up from his chair. “Ok, come with me.” He could feel the shadow of death hanging over him as he was being followed by this strange man who claimed to be Charlie. There was something different about him that distinguished him from Charlie. Maybe it was his gait, or maybe his eagerness to talk about how his research was going in the lab that they had both worked together at for five years now. Whatever it was, something wasn’t quite adding up.

   They reached the room, and entered to find it bare but with a cage on the counter with a pair of white mice with glowing red eyes. Mr. Jones switched on the light as he entered and leaned on the counter with an amused look on his face.

   “So, I heard that your department is currently in the process of working on a anti-aging drug.”

   “Yes.” Chris replied. “We are doing some experiments on a drug we have developed that tweaks neurotransmitters to supposedly reverse the aging process.”

   “That interests me very much.”

   “So, who are you exactly?”

   The man grinned at Chris. “Well, for all intents and purposes I am Charlie.”

   “But you can’t be.” Chris retorted. “I mean, Charlie died. And he never had a twin brother,…well, not that he told me about.”

   “No, he doesn’t have a twin brother.” He laughed. “But you are right, I am not Charlie.”

   “So then, who are you?”

   “I am the clone of Charlie. I was named Earl when I was created, but honestly, I would rather go by Charlie. I was created a year ago in the lab here, by Charlie himself, who, as you know, is a bit of a workaholic. He complained constantly about not having enough time to do what he needed to do here, and needed an extra hand. That was to become me. He was forced to hide me away from public view so no one would get suspicious. I was only to come out at night to come to the lab to work. I was given his ID with the bar code to get in. I would work late nights when no one else was here.”

   Mr. Jones was dumbfounded. As he looked at the man, he couldn’t see anything that would distinguish him from the original. Even the voice sounded the same. How is that possible with a clone?

   “You see, my master was always bent on improvement. He always wanted to be better. He needed a partner who would be his better half. What is the difference between me and another person? I am him, but an improvement. As a clone, I was given his genes but also have a mix of nootropics in my blood stream to enhance focus and solve the most convoluted problems.

   “When Charlie wanted to go rock climbing in the alps last month, I told him that I would need money up front to cover living expenses. I was living at the time in an apartment that was owned by one of Charlie’s friends. All that was told to the landlord was that Charlie’s friend lived there. I was to make no noise whatsoever, nor attract any attention. Kind of like being a ghost.”

   “I can’t believe my friend never told me about you.” Mr. Jones said, shaking his head.

   “What is the difference between me and any other man? Why would you need to know?”

   “It’s just…I don’t know.” Mr. Jones scratched his head.

   “Well, that was all fine until Charlie fell when he went rock climbing. The fall was severe, from what he told me. The belay snapped and he fell 80 feet to the ground. A beech tree caught his fall but he still sustained heavy damage from the hard ground below. He was rushed to the hospital there by his friend with him, where he was initially pronounced dead, but upon heavier examination was diagnosed with a coma. His adventurous nature led to his downfall, and his competitiveness had now bounds. The body can only take so much pain.

   “As you already know, he died in the hospital bed. A part of me died that day, the lesser part. His keys were taken from him by the wards before I could get them, so I had no access to his car and house. Since I have no money of my own and no “real” job, I have to vacate the apartment. I need to start over again, and I need to change my appearance. Before he died, he gave me collagen supplements to make me appear younger, and also dexedrine to improve focus and sleep. 

   “I want to take this research another step to develop a prescription that reverses aging to make me young again, or when he was young again. I want the youth I never had. I don’t want his life, I want my own.”

   “But your life is entwined with his.”

   “It was but not anymore.“ The man replied.

   Mr. Jones, looking more deeply at him, realized that his eyes were slightly different than his deceased colleague, and knew this was the truth. He never realized that he would use his research to actually set a man free.