Chapter 10

Out in the grounds we walked in silence for a while. I waited for her to speak. She suddenly stopped and crossed her arms and said, “This world’s such a beautiful place, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” I replied.

I studied her face as she looked into the distance. It was certainly softer, as if she had washed away the years of hardness she had acquired on the road. She didn’t have a pretty face, but her skin was good and her teeth were looking whiter, so she was obviously cleaning them. I wondered if she had ever been to a dentist, and that made me wonder about doctors: where do tramps go when they are ill? I mean, I’ve never seen tramps in a doctor’s surgery.

My thoughts were halted by Jack: “Have you travelled to many places in the world?” she asked.

“Oh, only the usual package holidays: Spain, Italy, France,” I replied.

“I would like to see those countries one day,” she said with a faraway look in her eyes.

I asked her if she could remember anything about her past. She looked puzzled by that question, so I quickly changed the subject. Later, as we returned to the building, she suddenly said she could remember that she had a happy childhood until her parents had been killed in a car crash, and she had been left on her own.

Back in the kitchen the Professor made us some drinks, and soon afterwards Jack said she was tired and went to bed.

We went through to the lab, and the Professor asked how our walk went. I told him she was certainly more chatty; she seemed brighter, more alive, and asked a lot of questions. I told him what she had said about her parents. He beamed at that, and got quite excited as he told me that was a clear indication his program was working, as he had programmed exactly that fact. I felt like telling him that it was also possible that was what did happen to her parents, but I kept quiet. The Professor told me he had found a case of women’s clothes and a make-up case in his storeroom. He explained that they had been left behind by one of his visitors a while ago. He said she had left in rather a hurry, but he didn’t explain why, and I didn’t ask. He said he had put the clothes in Jack’s room.

“Professor, there’s something I have been wondering about: if you change a person’s mind, will that change his physical characteristics as well? I mean, say you give a clumsy person the mind of an expert painter, will he become an expert, or will he become confused because in his mind he can do it, but physically he can’t?”

The Professor thought for a while. “Well, Roger, I honestly don’t know. I don’t know if a clumsy person is clumsy because of a faulty brain or if a person’s physical limitations are a separate issue, but I think we should look into it. It might open up a lot of new possibilities.”

I thought afterwards I should have kept quiet, as I could just see him giving me a shopping list for specific bodies.

The next morning I was there at the usual time. I glanced at the door to Jack’s room on the way past. I found the Professor in the kitchen.

“She’s not up yet?” I asked.

“No, not yet,” he replied.

We had a cup of tea and sat there talking. The time was dragging on, and I asked if he had the bleeper switched on. He checked his pocket.

“Damn!” he said. “It’s in my other coat in the lab. I had better fetch it.”

“Morning.” A voice spoke behind us, making us both jump.

We turned towards the door. Jack was standing in the doorway, although her resemblance to the Jack we first knew was, to say the least, minimal. This Jack was a woman, five foot five inches tall, of medium build, with short, dark hair and brown eyes. My police-trained mind automatically noted her description. She was wearing a peach-coloured dress. The pale-orange lipstick was a little overdone, but she looked twenty years younger, and, although you wouldn’t call her beautiful, she was certainly attractive in a very desirable way.

“What are you two gawping at?” she asked as she swept into the room. Neither of us spoke; we were too busy closing our mouths, which had been hanging open. She started looking through the cupboards. I would have asked her what she was looking for if I had been able to tear my gaze from her curvy bottom, which wiggled as she reached up to open the doors. The dress was a little bit tight, and it rode up her hips, displaying the backs of her thighs. I glanced at the Professor, who was, judging by the way his eyes were leaping from their sockets, not thinking of scientific facts just at that moment.

“Ah, coffee! I fancy a change this morning,” Jack said as she turned from the cupboard, proudly displaying the jar in her hand.

The Professor and I were completely stuck for what to say. Before, although we knew she was a woman, we coped because we still treated her like a man; but now it was as if she was making a statement that she was a woman. So what should I say? Should I ignore how she looked and carry on talking to her as I did before? Should we discuss the change or act like nothing had happened? I decided just to carry on as before and not mention it unless Jack brought it up. Perhaps the Professor was right and she didn’t remember what she was like before. Perhaps she believed she had always been like this.

She made her coffee and joined us at the table. We both smiled at her. The Professor asked how she was, and talked about the weather. For the first time I noticed her hands – mainly because of the splash of colour of the nail varnish she was wearing. She must have scrubbed her hands. Gone were the thin lines of grime around her nails and in the skin creases. She had short, stubby fingers, and I thought she needed a few rings in order to make it clear that they were a woman’s fingers. She finished her coffee.

“What have you got planned for today?” she asked. Before we could answer, she carried on: “I would like to do some shopping. There are some things I need.”

I looked at the Professor. I could see the alarm in his eyes.

“Well, if you make a list, I can get them for you,” I said.

“I would rather go myself, please.” I could see that the Professor hadn’t erased her talent for begging. Before I had a chance to think, I was agreeing to take her into Tolchester.

“Oh, thanks, Roger. I’ll go and get ready.”

The Professor waited until he heard Jack’s door close; then: “That was a bit silly, Roger.” The anger rattled his voice.

“I had to say something. She was getting upset. She might have wanted to leave.” I was almost pleading, which made me angry.

“All right, but you must watch her all the time. Never let her out of your sight for a second,” he said. “Oh, you can be sure of that,” I said with a smirk on my face.

The Professor gave me a hard look. “While you are gone I’ll get the next set of data ready and we can download in the morning.”

I looked at him sharply. “So soon? Shouldn’t we wait a bit longer?” I asked.

“No, I don’t see why. She seems to be coping, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, it’s remarkable. It’s just— Well, OK.”

I wanted to say she was fine as she was, but I didn’t want to get into an argument. I felt worried, protective. What if we overdid it? What if something went wrong? This was all going through my mind, but my concerns were all soon forgotten as Jack came back, wearing a biscuit-coloured topcoat and carrying a black handbag. The coat fitted better than the dress had, and she looked quite smart. She stood in the doorway.

“I was wondering about money. You said you would pay me for helping you.”

“Yes, of course,” the Professor said as he got his wallet out.

He handed her four tens, which she folded and put away in her bag. I would have expected the old Jack to look in amazement at what to her would have been a fortune.

I walked Jack to my car and I noticed that she tackled the seat belt just as if she had been doing it all her life. We drove away from the lab. I was tempted just to drive away and not come back. I could expose the Professor’s work and save Jack from any further treatment. I was sure the Professor was worried that I might do just that, judging by the way he looked at me as we left.

We spent a pleasant few hours round the shops. Jack seemed so happy, and I really enjoyed being with her. We even had lunch in a burger bar, which, believe it or not, was my first time ever, and I enjoyed it. Jack spent the Professor’s money and the same amount of mine. I tried to keep a note of what she bought, but I gave up after a while. The pile of parcels and bags I was carrying just seemed to keep growing. I did note that she didn’t buy a new woolly hat or knapsack, which would have led me to suspect that she was getting ready to leave us.

She was starting to look tired, so I suggested we go back. The drive back took a lot of effort on my part, but my professional training finally won and it wasn’t too long before I was pulling up outside the lab. The Professor was waiting outside the door and greeted us like long-lost friends – a reminder of when I first brought Jack there. He helped me to carry Jack’s purchases to her room and we left her to sort them out.

Back in the kitchen, he showed me the bleeper, so that I knew that Jack couldn’t surprise us again.

“Well, how did it go?” he asked. “You were gone a very long time,” the Professor said.

“Well, you know what women are like when they are shopping – no sense of time. Anyway, it went fine. I kept an eye on what she bought – no wire-cutters or tunnelling equipment.” I tried to sound as sarcastic as possible.

The Professor took no notice.

“Come into the lab a minute,” he said.

I followed him. From behind his desk he fetched a black dustbin liner, which he held up with a great grin on his face.

“Look,” he said as he placed it on the floor in front of me and opened it.

I leant forward to see the contents, and the stale smell soared up and hit my nose, making me snap my head back. I looked enquiringly at the Professor, who seemed not to notice the smell.

“Her old clothes,” he said excitedly. “She’s thrown them away – her link with the past.”

“Oh, I see,” I replied. I obviously didn’t share his enthusiasm.

“I found the bag in her room, while you were out.”

I frowned at him. “Have you been poking about in her room?” My angry response took him by surprise, and he looked frightened for a second. He then recovered his composure and gave me a hard look. I looked away. I felt angry. The thought of him looking through her things churned my stomach. I had also lost my self-control and betrayed my personal feelings. Despite all my years of training, I had let this rut of a man get through my defences. I tried to cover up by asking questions about what he had been doing while we were away, but the atmosphere was now tense between us. It was a relief when the bleeper went off in his pocket, acting as a signal for us to make our way back to the kitchen.

Jack was already there, busy looking through the cupboards. She turned at our entry and smiled – at me first; I was sure of that. We all pitched in and made a meal.

We sat and talked as we ate. I was aware that the Professor was watching Jack and me whenever we were talking to each other, but I was determined not to let him intimidate me. After all, I was only making sure Jack was happy and relaxed.

After we had cleared away, Jack said she was tired and went to bed. I made my excuses and left.

I had a very fretful night’s sleep, and I seemed to have been asleep for only a few minutes before I woke. It took me a while to work out who I was and where I was, then to realise I had not set (or had missed) the alarm. It was an hour later than my normal time for rising. I cursed and had a quick shower and shave.

My mouth felt dry and sore as I drove to the lab. I rubbed my chin; the stubble I had missed while shaving itched a bit. My eyes felt tender.

“Damn! Damn!” I thumped the steering wheel in anger. I wanted to look and feel my best.

Then I couldn’t open the security door, and had to ring the bell. At last the door was opened by the Professor.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” he said.

“I’m here now,” I snapped back.

‘Nothing like getting off to a good start,’ I thought.

He explained that Jack had woken up early, so he had put her in the lab already. As I entered the room I noticed Jack, in her usual sitting position on the couch. I walked over to her. Two wide straps encased her body. I looked at her looking so peaceful, her chest moving gently. I leant down and picked up the loose end of one of the straps and rubbed it through my fingers. The Professor came over.

“I had to put the straps on to stop her falling off.”

I nodded.

I wondered what else he had been doing – probably had his hand up her skirt.

“Are you ready, Roger?” he asked.

I nodded and moved to my usual position behind her head.

I looked down at her. With a sigh I gently turned her head, then drew the palm of my hand slowly across her cheek and brushed her hair out of the way. I looked away, gritting my teeth, as the Professor inserted the probe. I watched him as he worked the keyboard.

‘It’s funny how you can suddenly take a dislike to someone,’ I thought; ‘but then, our relationship has always been more professional than friendly.’

I found that subconsciously, as I stood there, I had been caressing Jack’s head with my fingers, probably trying to reassure her, to let her know I was there. What would she think if she knew what we were doing to her, and, in fact, had already done to her?

“Oh, by the way, Professor, I will have to go as soon as we have put her back in her room. I’ve got to be in court and I expect it will go on all afternoon.”

“Hmm, that should be all right, but can you leave a number in case I need to get in touch?”

I nodded.

It was a good thirty minutes before he disconnected the equipment. We didn’t speak during that time. While he was packing away, I walked round and faced Jack. What the hell were we doing, violating her brain? What turmoil had we just unleashed into that innocence? I realised I had not got to know the old Jack, and I wondered whether I would have liked her as much as I did the new one. That question, I knew, would never be answered.

I turned to the Professor: “Her childhood – will she remember it?” I asked.

“Oh, yes, but not the one she actually experienced. I’ve given her a completely new one.”

“But why? Why did you have do that?” I asked with a disgusted look on my face.

“Roger, you must understand, you just can’t add a new middle or later life; it has to be linked with an earlier life. There has to be continuity. Look at it this way: if we gave her a new identity for only the last twenty years, all her earlier memories would seem disconnected; so she would become bewildered and frightened. Her memories would be thrown into confusion. It would be like recording over a song on a tape without erasing the previous one – you would end up with a distortion of both recordings.” What he said made sense.

“But you have still got the data relating to her first life, haven’t you?” I asked him.

“Yes, it’s stored away,” he replied.

“Well, couldn’t that data be turned into pictures?” I asked.

“Yes, it could, but it would take years, and what would be the point? She wouldn’t remember any of it, so it would be meaningless to her,” he replied; then he went back to his toys.

I bit my lip. What if she did remember, or want to remember? What if trying to remember was like looking into a black hole, a void? Wouldn’t that be just as frightening?

My deep thoughts were interrupted by a hushed moan from Jack. The Professor came over and we undid the straps. Then, supporting her between us, we took her back to her room. We laid her on the bed, and the Professor took a syringe from the dressing table and injected a colourless liquid into her slender arm. I covered her with a blanket, tucking it under her chin. I gently stroked her cheek with my fingers, and tried to wipe away a small, dark smudge of eye makeup that was staining the side of her nose. I looked guiltily at the Professor, but he hadn’t noticed. He was too busy packing his instruments up.

We left the room together. I checked my watch.

“I had better be going,” I said as I took a card from my pocket and scribbled a number on the back. “That’s where I’ll be; I should be home by six, though.” I passed him the card.

He went with me to the door. Things were definitely frosty between us, and I took a deep breath when I got outside. I made my way to the court, stopping only to buy a sandwich for my lunch.

While I waited for my case to come up, I sat there thinking. I made up my mind to get Jack away from the lab as soon as I could. She could stay with me – she would have her own room. I could look after her – take her on holiday wherever she wanted to go. I smiled as I thought of her on a plane, probably for the first time. Then I frowned. Perhaps in her new identity she was used to flying. I suddenly realised how little I actually knew about her. I decided to ask the Professor to give me a list of what she now knew.

The court case was a waste of my entire afternoon as the defendant changed his plea to guilty, but I had an enjoyable evening, mainly spent planning for Jack’s arrival. I went to bed feeling happy and pleased.

I was still feeling happy when I arrived at the lab the next morning. I even managed the security door. I could hear the sound of voices and laughter coming from the kitchen, and I quickened my pace.

I entered the room and said good morning with a smile on my face. My eyes focused on Jack, who was standing by the sink. The smile drained from my face and was replaced by a cold, sinking feeling when I noticed the dark, unfriendly look she gave me before she looked away. I looked at the Professor.

“Morning, Roger,” he greeted me.

I deliberately looked at Jack, who was staring at the floor, then back at the Professor, my look demanding an explanation. The silence was heavy and awkward. I didn’t know what to say. Something had gone wrong with the programming. I felt the anger welling up inside me.

‘We should have stopped,’ I thought.

Jack suddenly spoke. Looking at the Professor, she said, “I think I will go to my room. I feel tired”

The Professor nodded.

I watched her face as she left. She didn’t look at me once, but just stared at the floor. I stood rooted to the spot, my fists clenched with the tension I was feeling. The Professor cleared the table and started to wash up.

As soon as I heard Jack’s door close, I walked over to him.

“Well?”

He looked at me.

“What’s gone wrong?” I demanded.

“I am not sure, Roger. She seemed all right until you came in; then her mood changed. I am sure it’s only temporary – probably a reaction to the data. Perhaps we overdid it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t worry – it will sort itself out. Just give it time.”

The Professor’s reassurances didn’t make me feel any better. I could feel something was wrong.

I stayed for lunch, but Jack’s attitude towards me seemed to get worse. She ignored everything I said, even when I spoke about the shopping trip. I thought, if anything could, that would spark some interest from her, some comment – but there was nothing. As far as she was concerned, the Professor was the only other person there. And he didn’t help. He could have made an effort to include me in the conversation.

After lunch, when I decided to go home, I tackled him about it as he saw me to the door. He said I was seeing things that weren’t there, and he told me not to worry so much; things would look different in the morning.

I drove home in exactly the opposite mood to the one I had arrived in. At home I took a bottle and sat brooding in the room I had selected for Jack. I just couldn’t understand it. It had to be the last lot of sodding data. There must have been a confliction with the previous lot – but why me? Why not the Professor? Why not both of us? Could it be that I reminded her of someone from her past – someone who had harmed her?

I decided I would get the Professor to program her to like me – to love me. That would be the answer.

Somehow I must have got into bed, because the next thing I was waking up with a thumping headache and a mouth that felt as though it was full of sawdust.

It was nearly ten thirty before I felt safe to venture out and drive to the lab. I was feeling reasonably cheerful. My late arrival would give Jack more time, I thought. After all, women were usually at their worst first thing in the morning.

I parked the car and was just about to enter the lab when I heard the sound of voices coming from round the side of the building; so I made my way round the corner. I spotted Jack and the Professor walking away from me. Jack looked happy, judging by the way she was swinging along. The sound of her laughter floated through the still air like a transparent cloud to be sucked into my waiting ears. My hopes rose as I walked after them. As I got closer, my happy thoughts turned to anger. They were behaving like a happy couple out for a stroll. A feeling of jealousy cut clean through my self-control. They were so engrossed with each other that I was just a few feet away before they turned as one to face the intruder. I tried to smile at Jack, but just grimaced. Jack’s face showed her fear of me, and she instinctively moved behind the Professor for protection.

The Professor greeted me and I stopped directly in front of him and confronted him with my anger and aggression. We stood facing each other like gladiators waiting to do battle. Neither of us spoke for what seemed an eternity, then the Professor turned to Jack and asked her to pop back inside as he wanted to talk to me. She hurried away without a glance at me. I saw the fear in her face as she went past.

I spoke first: “What’s going on, Professor? Don’t tell me nothing, because I’m not blind or stupid.” I stabbed his chest with my finger as I spoke, just to make sure he knew I meant business.

He put his hand up and rubbed the place I had poked him.

“Steady on, Roger. Calm down. I can assure you there is nothing going on. I’m trying to sort it out right now. That’s why I was talking to Jack when you arrived. I’ve been up most of the night checking the data, and I think I may have the answer. Look – let’s go into the lab and discuss it.”

We walked back in silence. I felt guilty for the way I had behaved. I could hardly blame Jack for being frightened of me if I behaved like a madman. I followed the Professor. I glanced into the kitchen as we passed, but Jack must have been in her room.

In the lab the Professor sat behind his desk and I sat in front.

“Look, Professor – I’ve got a gut feeling about this. She was getting on well with me right up till you put the last lot of data in, so what exactly did that data consist of?” I asked accusingly.

“Well…” He fumbled for words.

“Well?” I asked again.

“Just a few loose ends – improvements.” He looked uncomfortable as he spoke.

“Are you sure you didn’t instruct her to hate me for some reason? It has occurred to me that you might have done that to prove a point.”

“No, of course not!” he retorted, his face reddened with anger at my accusation.

I was feeling better now that he had lost his composure.

“Let me warn you, Professor, if I find out you have deliberately turned her against me, I’ll expose your whole operation. I’ve got it all written down: dates, times – everything.”

He looked frightened. He stood up and leant forward across his desk. His eyes were blazing with indignation. He went to say something, then changed his mind. He sat down and his expression changed – softened.

“Roger, don’t be a fool. You can’t destroy my work, not on a silly whim. Be sensible. I’ve told you before that there are areas I don’t yet fully understand. It’s possible that you remind her of someone in her past – someone who has harmed her.” The Professor was regaining his composure; his voice was steady again.

“I’ve already thought of that,” I snapped; “but you said you had removed her past, so how could that happen?”

“It’s possible I missed something. Roger, surely you can see the possibility!” He was almost pleading.

I got up.

“I don’t know, Professor. I am not sure – not convinced by a long way. I need to think about it.”

“Where are you going?” he asked, looking concerned.

“To the loo.”

I left the room and locked myself in the loo. I stared into the mirror; a stranger glared back. I took several deep breaths and tried to control myself. The past thirty minutes had really shaken me to the core. Never before had I felt so wild inside, so primitive. I could easily have smashed the place up. I held my hands up in front of my face; they were trembling. I leant against the wall and squeezed my eyes closed, so all I could see was the blackness, and slowly the anger began to diminish. I opened my eyes and blinked to clear the mist.

‘Think!’ I told myself. ‘Think! The Professor can put it right – you know he can. I have to butter him up, apologise, crawl. That is it – problem solved!’

I realised I was sweating as I felt a cold tickle run down my side. Opening my shirt, I dried my armpits with some loo paper; then I held my hands under the cold tap and absorbed the refreshing feeling as the temperature in my hands dropped. I returned to the lab a different man.

The Professor was sitting at his desk, drinking from a cup. He smiled as I entered.

“Look, Roger – I am sorry about this misunderstanding. I am sure I can put things right. Just be patient.”

“Yes, I am sorry too,” I replied as I sat down.

“Help yourself to a cup of tea. I’ve only just made it.” He gestured towards the tray on his desk.

Grateful for something to do, I poured a cup and helped myself to a couple of biscuits. I sat back in my chair and dunked my biscuits and sipped my tea. I listened as the Professor outlined the next part of his program. As I sat there I found his voice becoming a drone – a distant drone.

I heard him say, “Does that sound all right, Roger?”

I felt like I was floating. Did I answer? I listened carefully, head on one side, trying to pick up the words, but they wouldn’t register; they wouldn’t join together; they wouldn’t make a sentence. I looked at the Professor, but he wouldn’t stay still. He kept moving from side to side. I could feel a pressure on the sides of my head, like when your eyes are straining. I tried to get up, but nothing was working. It all felt like a dream. I could see Jack’s smiling face and I smiled back.

“Come on, Roger – come and have a lie-down.” I could hear the voice, but I couldn’t see where it was coming from.

My eyes were closed. They were so heavy. I couldn’t feel anything. My legs, my arms – where were they? Why weren’t they there? I couldn’t understand.

“There you are. Lie on the couch. You will soon feel better.”

Where was I? The lab, the couch – what was happening? My God, he’s going to program me! I tried to scream, but the silence echoed back at me. I couldn’t move. I was a mind in a carcass.

The voice came at me again: “Now, don’t worry, Roger, all your worries will soon be gone. You know, that was a very silly thing to do, to threaten me like that. You were quite right, though: I did program Jack to hate you. It worked very well, don’t you think? You gave me no choice. I could see you were falling in love with her. Next you would have been wanting to take her away from me. No, I couldn’t allow that. No, Roger, she’s mine. She’ll do anything I ask.” The voice rambled on through the mist. “Just think, Roger: we can have children – virgin minds! I can work on them as soon as they are born. My very own supply of research material! Now I am going to give you a shot under your arm so they won’t spot the mark – you won’t feel anything – then I am afraid it’s goodbye, Roger. There, that didn’t hurt, did it? Such a waste! Still, I don’t really need you now.”

* * *

I sat on my desk as I looked over at Roger. ‘Five minutes should be enough,’ I thought as I looked at my watch.

I put the cups back on the tray and went through to the kitchen, and I washed the cups and teapot out with boiling water. I grinned to myself. I bet he never thought for one minute he was pouring out his own death warrant. I suppose you could almost call it suicide – administered by his own hand, milord. I chuckled. Of course I could have programmed him, but that would have been awkward, what with his job. My research still had a long way to go, so I decided not to take the risk. I checked my watch and returned to the lab. I checked Roger’s pulse and listened to his chest. Satisfied he was dead, I folded the plastic sheet I had put on the couch over him and, using the dreaded brown plastic parcel tape, I taped my parcel up. Finished, I stood back and admired my handiwork. He looked quite good, like a mummy, only this one wouldn’t be coming back to life. I left the lab and went to Jack’s room, knocking before I entered.

“Ah, there you are, my dear. Are you all right?”

“Yes, Edward. Has that nasty man gone yet?”

“Now, don’t worry about him. He can’t hurt you ever again, but I need your help to take him away. Now, don’t worry – he can’t hurt you now. Wait here and I’ll be back in a minute.”

I left her and went and found Roger’s car. Using the keys I had taken from his pocket, I drove it on the grass round to the back of the lab and parked it as close to the fire door as I could. I then had a look in the boot and the glovebox and under the seat – nothing interesting. I then went back in through the front door and collected Jack. We went through to the lab. Seeing the bundle on the couch, Jack cowered against me.

“Don’t worry, my love – he can’t hurt you. I promise.”

I went over to the fire door and pushed it open. I had a look round outside. Satisfied, I returned to the couch and pulled it across the floor until it was as near the fire door as possible. I went over to Jack, who was standing next to my desk.

“Come on, my dear – I want you to hold the bottom and help me get him in the car; then we can take him away.”

I led her over to the couch and showed her how to lift the feet; then between us we managed to get him into the back of the car. I covered him with the blanket I had seen in the boot. I pushed the fire door closed, got Jack seated in the passenger seat and then we drove Roger home. I had been to his home a couple of times, so I knew where it was.

It wasn’t long before we were turning into the lane which led up to his house. I stopped in front of the garage. Leaning over, I found the remote control in the glovebox and flashed it at the sensor. We watched in silence as the door moved slowly upwards.

‘Thank you, Roger,’ I thought.

He had been like a child with a new toy, and he insisted on giving me several demonstrations on how the system worked on my previous visits. I put the headlights on and drove slowly into the garage. I wanted to make sure I left enough space to open the back door. After stopping the car, I got out and operated the switch to close the door. Finding the light switch, I turned on the light. I went back to my side of the car and turned off the car’s lights. I told Jack to stay where she was; then I went through the connecting door into the kitchen, then into the lounge, putting on the lights as I went. I made sure there was nothing in the way. I also pulled the curtains in the lounge. Satisfied, I went back to the garage to get Jack. Between us we managed to carry and drag Roger into the lounge. We laid him on the floor in front of the armchair where he used to sit to watch the TV. I took from my pocket the scissors I had brought and carefully snipped open my parcel. Jack stood and watched, not understanding any of this. (Not that it would matter, as I could erase it all later.) I asked her to help with the feet and we dragged him into the chair. I repositioned him a couple of times before I was satisfied. I turned to Jack and asked her to find a carrier bag.

“There’s probably one in the kitchen,” I suggested.

While she was gone, I carefully folded up the plastic sheet. She was soon back, and she helped me put the sheet in the bag; then I placed it by the front door. Turning to Jack, I smiled. Then, taking her arm, I steered her back into the kitchen. I asked her to fill the kettle and to find a mug and saucer. I searched the cupboards until I found the tin with the tea bags. I emptied the tin out on to a piece of kitchen towel, and from my jacket pocket I took a plastic bag which contained some of the tea bags from the lab. I opened the bag and gave a tea bag to Jack, who popped it in the mug. The rest of the bags I emptied into the tin, which I replaced in the cupboard. Roger’s tea bags I put into the empty plastic bag. I asked Jack to put two sugars in the mug when she had put the water and milk in. Returning to the hall, I put the plastic bag of tea bags into the carrier bag. On my way past the kitchen I told Jack I was just popping upstairs. I soon located Roger’s bedroom, and found what I wanted in the first place I looked: the top drawer of the bedside cabinet. It was a buff folder containing lots of handwritten notes. I read a few just to make sure, then I returned downstairs to where Jack was standing, patiently holding the mug of tea. I think the poor love thought it was for me. I put the folder in the carrier bag, then took the mug from her, went into the lounge and placed it on the small table next to where Roger was sitting. I tilted his head back and spooned some tea into his mouth; then from my other pocket I took another plastic bag containing biscuits from the lab. I put two of the biscuits in the saucer, while I put the bag back in my pocket; then I dunked one of the biscuits in the tea and put the soggy part into Roger’s mouth. The rest of the biscuit I put in his hand on his lap. Taking Jack with me, I went back to the kitchen and opened the plastic box labelled ‘pig biscuits’, which had been a present from a previous girlfriend, Roger had told me. I emptied the box out, and put in the rest of the biscuits from the lab. Roger’s biscuits went into the carrier bag in the hall. I told Jack to wait by the front door.

I returned to the garage and had a quick look in the car, remembering to fold the blanket and return it to the boot. Then I remembered I had moved the driver’s seat forward two clicks, so I put it back in its original position. After a last look round, I switched off the light.

Back in the kitchen again, I had a last look round. I placed Roger’s car keys in the dish on the fridge, as he had done the last time I visited him. The kitchen light I left on. I smiled to Jack as I passed through the hall and into the lounge. I turned on the TV and put the remote control on the arm of Roger’s chair. I turned on the standard lamp behind him. I then had second thoughts about the remote control and gave it a gentle push so that it fell to the floor. Over at the door, I had a last look round, then turned the main light off. It looked such a perfect picture: a man, home after a hard day, had fallen asleep in front of the TV – a scene probably repeated in numerous households throughout the world. I walked over to Jack and picked up the carrier bag.

“Time to go, my love,” I said with a smile.

Leaving the hall light on, I opened the front door and we left the house. In the lane I stopped and asked Jack to hold the carrier bag. I peeled off my surgical gloves and popped them in the bag. Taking the bag from Jack, I gave her a big smile. Then I took her arm and we walked away up the lane, just like any happy couple out for an evening stroll.

We returned to the lab, taking a bus as far as Wheyton, and then a taxi.

Sitting in my armchair, I looked round my cosy flat and realised that Roger had never been in it. I was quite proud of it really. It had once been a collection of storerooms, built on to the side of the lab. Using the remote, I energised the TV.

After a few minutes Jack came in with a tray and put a cup of tea next to me. I laughed out loud at the irony that it was almost a repeat of the scene at Roger’s. Jack looked at me with surprise.

“Oh, just something that struck me as funny, my dear!”

As I sat sipping my tea, I thought of all the clever little touches. I mean, at the post-mortem if they examined his stomach contents, the tea and biscuits they would find would be the same as the ones in his house. What about the cause of death? Well, that would be heart failure. The drug I had given him (a by-product of my experiments with animals) blocked the signals from the brain which keep the heart going, so it would just stop. Oh, I know some clever clogs could probably find traces of the drug if they knew what to look for, but why would they bother? There were no suspicious circumstances, and certainly no links with me. I had already got a new identity for Jack – she was already wearing her clothes. My lady friend hadn’t left in a hurry; she was still here, buried out in the grounds, a victim of earlier research. And now I had brought her back to life, given her a new body.

It was four days later when I spotted the story in the Tolchester News: ‘Roger Watson, a detective inspector on an exchange scheme from the Metropolitan Police, has died of a heart attack while at home…’

I put the paper down and let out a whoopee! Jack came rushing in from the kitchen.

“Edward, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing, my dear – just a good piece of news.”

I settled back into my chair. Nothing could stop me now, I thought. I started to go over in my mind the ideas that had formed over the last few days. I could live for ever. I could copy the data from my brain and put it in a new young body; then my knowledge would continue to grow. I could make millions by doing the same for other people. Parents could have their data transferred to their sons’ and daughters’ brains and live on in their bodies. Animals? I could produce freaks and sell them to shows – the domestic cat that behaves like a monkey! Oh, yes – I could have a hundred Jacks all in different bodies, all wanting to please me. I could become the most powerful man in the world. Just think, the man sitting next to you, sleeping next to you, could be me. How would a woman know if the man she kissed goodbye in the morning would be the same man who came home at night? He might look the same, but … I could offer people the chance to change their partner’s mind in any way they wanted – for a price, of course. The husband could pay me to change his wife into a nymphomaniac, and pay me again not to change her back if she should ask. I could set up a data library. I could just picture it: rows and rows of brains in jars, all coupled up to computers. People could select the sort of brain they want. A sort of pick and mix!

God? Now there’s a thought: why shouldn’t I be a god?