Robin Cook - Abduction

The two divers looked at each other. Michael rolled his eyes while Richard swallowed a laugh.

“The food is here!” Sufa called from inside.

Arak extended the stick toward Richard. “Would you like to give it a try?”

“I think I’ll pass,” Richard said. “Besides, I’m starved.”

“Then let’s eat,” Arak said agreeably. He tossed the stick back into the fern thicket and headed back inside. Sark followed.

“This place is getting weirder by the minute,” Richard mumbled to Michael as they skirted the pool.

“You can say that again,” Michael said. “No wonder they didn’t care when I took the gold goblets last night. Nothing belongs to nobody. I’m telling you, we could make a fortune down here, and they wouldn’t care.”

Along with food, the worker clones had brought a folding table, which they’d placed in the center of a ring of seven contour chairs. Arak and the divers joined the others. Sark climbed the back of Arak’s chair and began scratching behind his ears. Everyone helped themselves to the food and started eating.

“Well, here’s where we spend most of our time,” Arak said after a short awkward silence. He sensed the secondary humans were a bit confounded by the day’s events. “Does anyone have any questions for us?”

“What do you do here?” Suzanne asked to make conversation. She was happier to stick to small talk rather than tackle the larger issues swimming in her head.

“We enjoy our bodies and our minds,” Arak explained. “We read a lot and watch a lot of holographic entertainment.”

“Don’t people work in Interterra?” Perry asked.

“Some people do,” Arak said. “But it is not necessary, and those who do, only do what they want to do. All menial work, which most work is, is done by worker clones. All monitory and regulatory work is done by Central Information. Thus, people are free to pursue their own interests.”

“Don’t the worker clones mind?” Donald asked. “Don’t they ever strike or revolt?”

“Heavens, no,” Arak said with a smile. “Clones are like… well, like your domestic pets. They were made to look like humans for esthetic reasons, but their brains are much smaller. They have limited forebrain function so their needs and interests are different. They love to work and serve.”

“Sounds like exploitation,” Perry said.

“I suppose,” Arak said. “But that is what machines are for, like automobiles in your culture, which I don’t believe you feel you exploit. The analogy would be better if your automobiles had living parts as well as machine parts. I’m sure you have to use your cars or they’d deteriorate. Same with worker clones, only it’s leisure they cannot tolerate. They become despondent and regress without work and direction.”

“It is uncomfortable for us,” Suzanne said. “Since they appear so human.”

“You have to remind yourself that they are not,” Sufa said.

“Are there different types of clones?” Perry asked.

“They all look essentially the same,” Arak said. “But there are servant, worker, and entertainment clones, male and female. It’s in the programming.”

“With your technology, why not use robots?” Donald asked.

“A good question,” Arak said. “We had androids ages ago; a whole line of them, in fact. But pure machines tend to break down and have to be fixed. We had to have androids to fix androids ad infinitum. It was inconvenient, even ridiculous. It wasn’t until we learned to wed the biological with the mechanical that we solved the problem. The ultimate result of this research and development was worker clones, and they are far superior to any android. They take care of themselves completely, even to the point of repairing themselves and reproducing to keep their population in a steady state.”

“Amazing,” Perry said simply. Suzanne nodded.

The group fell silent. When they were through with their food Sufa said, “I think perhaps it’s time to take you all back to your quarters at the visitors’ palace. You need some time to process what you’ve seen and heard. Also, we don’t want to overburden you on your first day. There is always tomorrow.” She smiled benignly as she stood up.

“You’re right about needing some time,” Suzanne said, getting to her feet as well. “I think I’ve been a bit overburdened already. Without an ounce of doubt, this has been the most startling, staggering, and stunning day of my life.”

Michael hesitated at the door to his cottage. Richard was standing directly behind him. They just had been dropped off by Arak and Sufa.

“What do you think we’re going to find?” Michael asked.

“For chrissake!” Richard complained. “How am I supposed to know until you open the goddamn door?”

Michael grasped the handle and pulled. The two divers stepped over the threshold and glanced around the room.

“Do you think anybody was here?” Michael questioned nervously.

Richard rolled his eyes. “What do think, birdbrain?” he said. “The bed’s made and the place has been picked up. Look, somebody even stacked all the dishes and the goblets you lugged back from the gala and the dining hall.”

“Maybe it was just the clones,” Michael said.

“It’s possible,” Richard said.

“Do you think the body is still there where we put it?”

“Well, we sure as shootin’ ain’t going to know until we look,” Richard said.

“All right, I’ll see.”

“Hold on!” Richard said, grabbing Michael’s arm. “Let me make sure the coast is clear.”

Richard looked around beyond the pool and was quickly satisfied. No one was near, and he rejoined his buddy. “Okay, check the body.”

Michael hastily positioned himself in front of the cabinets opposite the bed. “Drinks, please!” he commanded. The refrigerator door swung open. It was crammed full of various containers of beverage and food.

“It looks like the way we left it,” Michael said.

“That’s encouraging,” Richard said.

Michael bent down and removed several containers exposing Sart’s pale face. The lifeless eyes stared back at Michael accusingly. Michael quickly jammed the containers back to hide the horrid image. Sart’s was the first dead body Michael had seen other than his grandfather’s corpse. But his grandfather had been laid out in a casket in a tuxedo. Besides, the old man had been ninety-four.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Richard said.

“For now,” Michael said. “But it doesn’t mean they might not find him tonight or tomorrow. Maybe we should take him out and bury him in one of those clumps of fern.”

“What are we going to dig with, teaspoons?” Richard asked.

“Then maybe we should carry him over to your cottage and put him in your refrigerator. It gives me the creeps having him here.”

“We’re not going to take the chance carrying him around,” Richard said. “He stays where he is.”

“Then let’s swap rooms,” Michael suggested. “Remember, you killed him, not me.”

Richard’s eyes narrowed threateningly. “We already had this conversation,” he said slowly. “And it was decided: we’re in this together. Now shut the hell up about the body.”

“What about telling Fuller?” Michael said.

“Nah,” Richard said. “I changed my mind about that.”

“How come?”

“Because that straight arrow nerd’s not going to have any better idea of what to do with the body. And I don’t think we have to be so worried. Hell, nobody has even asked about the twerp all day today. Besides, Arak said they don’t have any prisons.”

“That’s because they don’t have any thievery,” Michael snapped. “Arak didn’t say anything about murder, and with all that stuff they showed us about mind extraction, I have a bad feeling they’ll be pretty upset about it. We might get ourselves recycled, like Reesta.”