Ник Сайнт - Purrfectly Hidden. Purrfect Kill. Purrfect Boy Toy

Odelia started to laugh, but when she saw the serious expressions on our faces, immediately stopped. “You’re serious? You really think you were cloned?”

“Yes, we do,” I said.

“They took one good look at me and figured that if it can happen to such a gorgeous, attractive, intelligent feline creature like me, why couldn’t it have happened to them?” said Prunella, suddenly sounding a lot less flaky than before. “Max,” she added, “you weren’t cloned. And I would know. I’ve been there.”

“But… you remember my name?” I asked.

“Of course I remember your name. Even before you arrived at the house Opal already told me you were coming. You and your friends.”

“But… you never remembered our names before,” said Harriet.

“I was just messing with you guys,” she said with a Cheshire grin. “And you fell for it, too!”

“But you are cloned, right?” asked Brutus.

“Of course I’m cloned. And the weirdest thing? I remember everything from my previous life and my current one. Hard to believe, huh?”

We stared at this peculiar cat, too stunned for speech, until finally Odelia crouched down and said, “Prunella is right. You weren’t cloned. None of you.”

“Is that the truth, Odelia?” asked Dooley anxiously.

“That’s the truth, Dooley,” she said. “Besides, apparently you would know if you were cloned, right, Prunella?”

“Hey, you speak our language,” said Prunella. “That’s something Opal didn’t tell me.”

“Can Opal speak our language?” I asked.

“No, she can’t. I mean, she talks to me all the time, and of course I understand what she is saying, but unfortunately she can’t understand me. Though after all these years we’ve created such a close connection she can feel me. Feel me?”

“Yes, I feel you,” I said.

“So you see, Max? If you really were cloned, you’d know.”

“What a relief!” said Brutus. “I’d hate to be cloned—no offense, Prunella.”

“None taken,” said the ginger cat. “Cloning is not for the faint of heart. No offense, Brutus.”

“Um… none taken, I guess,” he said.

“It’s a strange and wonderful experience, and a little scary, but when you come out on the other side, it’s great to know that you survived, and get to spend another couple of years with your precious human.”

She was making cloning sound like fun, I thought, and clearly Harriet thought so, too.

“Can I be cloned when I die, Odelia?” she asked now.

“I don’t know, honey. I’d have to give it some thought. Besides, you’re not going to die any time soon, are you?”

“Oh, no. I intend to live a long and fruitful life.”

“Me, too,” said Dooley.

“And me,” said Brutus.

“And me,” I added my voice to the choir.

“That’s the spirit,” said Odelia with satisfaction. “And now let’s get you back downstairs. These lab people get nervous when a bunch of cats suddenly invade the place.”

I wondered why that was. They should have been used to us by now.

And as we traversed the lab, I watched on as lab technicians went about their business of creating new life. And I wondered if one day I might end up here, and emerge a new Max.

I shivered. Okay. So maybe not.

Chapter 25

“I really had you going there, didn’t I?” said Prunella cheerfully.

“Yeah, you really had us going there,” I admitted.

“Do you even like bananas?” asked Harriet, “or was that a lie, too?” She didn’t seem particularly pleased with the joke Prunella had pulled on us.

“Oh, no, I do like bananas. That was no lie,” said Prunella.

We were back downstairs, in the pet playroom, and while Dooley was having his nails done and Brutus was getting a new coiffure, we were chatting amongst ourselves.

Odelia hadn’t lied: we were there to be pampered and being pampered we were.

“I should be the one getting my nails and hair done,” Harriet complained as she directed a jealous glance at Brutus and Dooley.

“All in good time,” I said. “We’re next.”

“So you did remember this place?” I said as Prunella flicked a toy rubber ball.

“Oh, sure. Like I said, I’m in here all the time. Upstairs and downstairs. From time to time Opal takes me to the lab, so they can prod and poke me for a while. They tell me I’m their proudest achievement. I was one of the first pets to be cloned, and successfully, too.”

“Well, I’m just glad it all turned out so well for you,” I said.

“And for Opal,” said Prunella. “When I died she was devastated, and when the lab people brought me back to life it was as if she’d been given a new lease on life herself.”

“I wasn’t kidding before. I want to be cloned, too,” said Harriet. “How about you, Max?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “It’s a little weird to think about that kind of thing.”

And frankly I preferred not to think about it until I had to, which, I hoped, wouldn’t be for a very long time to come.

“You know who comes in here all the time, too?” asked Prunella as she dug her claws into one of the huge climbing poles.

“No, who?” I asked.

“Kurtz.”

“In the spa?”

“No, not the spa. They have the cloning facility, but they also have a clinic for humans here, where they do all kinds of surgical procedures.”

“You mean like plastic surgery?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Maybe Kurtz had his nose done?” Harriet suggested. “People in Hollywood have their noses done all the time.”

“I know, Opal had her nose done last year,” said Prunella. Now that she wasn’t acting crazy anymore, she had turned into a real blabbermouth.

“Her nose? What was wrong with her nose?” asked Harriet.

“No idea. I liked it just the way it was, but apparently she didn’t. It’s much slimmer now. She had her boobs done, too, by the way.”

“Bigger cup size?”

“Smaller cup size.”

“Huh.”

And while Prunella was spilling all of her human’s most intimate and embarrassing secrets, Dooley came prancing up, then showed us his new and improved nails.

“Max!” said the girl responsible for Dooley’s new nails. “Your turn, honey.”

And then it was my turn to sit in the chair and have my nails done.

It felt strangely soothing, to be pampered like that, and I wondered if Odelia felt the same way. Probably she didn’t. Odelia isn’t the kind of woman who likes to be pampered. She’s more the tough-as-nails reporter type. And tough-as-nails reporter types hate to be pampered.

“I love to be pampered!” Odelia cried, as she checked the pink-with-silver-sparkles gel nails her own nails had been outfitted with.

“Looking good, Odelia,” said Opal, who was having her hair colored and curled.

“Now let’s do your toenails,” said the girl who’d talked her into getting the gel nails.

“Oh, yes, please,” said Odelia. “This is so much fun,” she admitted.

Though a tough-as-nails reporter like herself shouldn’t enjoy this kind of thing, she actually did.

“Ooh, I want,” said her mother when she spotted her new nails.

Mom had just had her face scrubbed and looked ten years younger.

“Tex isn’t going to recognize you,” said Gran. “You look like a new woman.”

“I know, right!” said Marge, admiring her new look in the mirror.

Gran, meanwhile, was having her hair done. She’d hated the perm she’d been getting from her regular salon in Hampton Cove, and had been dying to try something new.

“You have to do Botox,” said Opal now. “If you think you look younger now, wait until you get your first Botox treatment. It works wonders for your face.”