A Heaven for Toasters

CHAPTER 4: Guide

"The Manor," Guide said. "It belonged to one of the famous ship owners of Hydra. When the doctor bought it, it was derelict. But look at it now, huh? The jewel on the island's crown." Uttered by another, his words might have conveyed pride. But now they carried more than a hint of sarcasm.

"Have you ever been inside?" Leo asked.

Guide's face darkened. "Of course."

"Could you take us in?" I asked, curiosity growing in me.

"I haven't been there in years," the man said like he found the mere suggestion distasteful. "And no, I can't."

"But you have been in," I insisted.

"Just because someone's been at the mountaintop doesn't mean he's the right person to guide you there," he snapped. "Anyway, no outsiders have been at the Manor in ages. Way back, the doctor used to throw a little get-together for all his clones on the anniversary of his first successful cloning. The Cinderella Ball, we called it." He scoffed. "To some, he's the fairy godmother. To others, the king."

Leo eyed him with curiosity. "And to you?"

"The cruel stepmother," the man said with a bitter laugh.

I frowned. "Sorry, I don't understand. You said you grew up there. So, were you adopted or does Doctor Morgan allow locals inside?"

"Apart from his jet-setting friends, only clones are let in," he said with just the right kind of sigh to make him look like a teacher who had encountered two particularly dim students. "Even his staff consists entirely of clones. I grew up there but now I'm not even allowed inside. Thank God."

I wondered if his words were the ramblings of an old man who had misplaced a few of his marbles.

Leo leaned toward the man to study him. "All Morgan clones were created after 2072. No offense, but you look too old to be one. Although the resemblance is uncanny."

"Actually, that's not true. Doctor Morgan created his first clone in 2063. In 2072, he perfected the aging process. As for me, I was born in 2063. I'm fifty-seven, even if I look over seventy." The man met my raised eyebrows with a dismissive wave of his hand. "You have the doctor to thank for my looks. I was part of the very first group of clones he created. Back then, he was struggling to artificially age his clones, giving birth to men instead of babies. I'm one of his early experiments. Several of my aging-related genes have been altered. As a result, I look older than I am. Not happy about it, but we all have to play the hand we're dealt when coming to this world, don't we?" He spoke like none of this mattered but there was hidden pain layered in the back of his voice. "Besides, I'm healthy and conscious instead of one of those poor zombies people grow in vats nowadays."

The thought caused my foul mood to return with a vengeance. "That's just wrong," I blurted out.

"It was a different time," our guide said, mistaking my comment as a reference to his own experience. "The Asian Wars were raging. We needed soldiers. And fast. People were willing to turn the blind eye to a lot of things."

"I guess," I muttered, wondering just how messed up in the head Doctor Morgan really was. The brighter the light, the longer the shadow.

I tried to put myself in our guide's shoes. To be an experiment, knowing you owe both your existence and all of its pains to a man's whim... And most of the clones hardly seemed well off. It couldn't have been an easy life. I looked at the man, trying to hide my pity. "And you're a guide," I said. I normally hate stating the obvious, but I had to somehow change the awkward subject.

He beamed me a smile. "Indeed, I am."

"I'll call you Guide, then."

Leo made a gesture in my direction. "This charming lady is Detective Pensive. And I'm Leo."