Cloner A Sci-Fi Novel About Human Clonin

Chapter 31

‘Lisa! It’s good to see you. Come in, do.’

‘Thanks, Anne.’

‘All on your own? How on earth did you manage that?’

‘Trevor’s down for the weekend. He and Alec and the boys have gone to climb the Tor. They’re going to fly a kite Trev brought for them. And give me some time off!’

‘Cup of tea?’

‘That would be lovely.’

‘Milk and sugar? Or d’you take honey?’

‘No sweetening.’

‘It’s an acquired taste, I know, but I expect you’re used to it.’

‘What is?’

‘Goat’s milk in tea. Meg says you had it all the time you were carrying the triplets. Must be why they’re so sturdy.’

‘You use Meg’s goat’s milk?’ In her excitement Lisa had half risen from her chair, goggling at the milk jug Anne was pouring from.

Anne stared at her, surprised. ‘You didn’t know? Right from the start. Frank brings it over in the Landrover every morning, when he drops Phyllis and Paul off; and the cheese.’ She laughed, slightly embarrassed. ‘I didn’t mention it to you because I thought you knew - well, I just assumed it. Of course I use it. Everyone says it’s better than cow’s milk for young children. The mothers really like us to – ’

‘You’ve been giving them Meg’s goat’s milk all this time?’

‘Honestly, Lisa, aren’t you making rather a thing of it? It isn’t a secret, or anything. It’s supposed to be much better for the children. Quite a few of them are allergic to cow’s milk.’

Lisa sat down heavily in the chair just by her. She stared ahead of her. Was that why Janus had cloned again so soon after the cloning in the bath, had bloated up again so quickly after that? Because Anne was feeding him the goat’s milk loaded with Multiplier? No, that couldn’t be why. The fertiliser had been modified.

‘So how is Jansy? Any chance of your letting him come back soon? I never blamed him about Duffers, you know. That was Geraldine’s own fault. I told her Duffers could only come if he behaved whatever the children did. This is a playschool for young children, not a kennels. And you know he isn’t allowed here any more.’

‘I know,’ Lisa managed to say. A thought struck her. ‘What does she do with him?’

‘Frank always takes him when he brings the milk. Actually, he often did before. Duffers is locked up until then.’ She smiled at Lisa. ‘As for the eggs, that was just high spirits! My own silly fault for not keeping my eye on him every second. He’s a real challenge.’ She stopped, almost out of breath. ‘And I miss my little sessions with him.’

The incident with the eggs suddenly took on a new significance for Lisa. Did he know what made him clone? Was he trying to avoid contamination? But the eggs couldn’t be the problem, any more than Meg’s goat’s milk. Frank and Don had slaughtered all Meg’s chickens last year when cleansing the farm of the old strain of Multiplier. Perhaps the ground was still contaminated, the grass eaten by the goats, pecked at by the hens, carrying it into the food chain. But was that enough to trigger another cloning? Or was there something else?

‘Seb told me Janus liked drinking tea,’ Lisa brought up.

Anne laughed. ‘Extraordinary child. He always liked to pretend he preferred it black!’

‘Black? Jansy likes to drink it black?’

‘“No milk”, he always said. I’ve never heard of such a thing with such a little one before. Sat there, just like a grown-up, holding his cup and refusing to have milk.’ She smiled uncertainly at Lisa. ‘Of course it was very weak tea; practically hot water. Sometimes I put a slice of lemon in it for him, and I always added a large dollop of our own clover honey.’ She looked at Lisa nervously. ‘But of course I made sure he had his morning milk with the others,’ Anne hurriedly went on. ‘We didn’t let him get away with anything. I added a bit of honey to that, too. He didn’t seem to like it.’

‘What about the eggs, Anne? Do you get your eggs from Meg?’

Anne frowned. ‘I thought she was a special friend of yours? Are you trying to tell me there’s something wrong with her produce?’

‘I’m just worried about the bacteria in eggs,’ Lisa explained, her mind working through possible threats to Janus. ‘You know - salmonella. They say that free-range chickens are the most suspect. And there might be listeria in the soft cheese made from goat’s milk.’ She smiled pleasantly at Anne. ‘Did you use that, by any chance?’

‘You’re really worried about the stuff, aren’t you?’

‘Only as far as Jansy is concerned.’

‘You think Jansy may be allergic to the bacteria?’

Suddenly the word clover pushed itself into Lisa’s consciousness. Clover honey - Anne’s hives were set right next to Crinsley Farm. The real culprit among the foods Janus had eaten at school wasn’t Frank’s produce, it was the honey! That would be last year’s crop, made by Anne’s bees gathering pollen from Frank’s fields. So if Anne had been sweetening Janus’s tea with it, and even added it to his milk, it could be – would be - what had caused the rapid bloating. Lisa’s heart began to turn as she thought of the problems young Janus had had to deal with. Perhaps that was the reason he’d stayed thin since he’d been at home. He’d peed the extra stuff away at Brean Sands, and because he hadn’t been to playschool he wasn’t imbibing any contaminated food. He’d stayed with her, safely consuming supermarket food.

‘It’s possible. Alec’s really concerned about his behaviour. He even thought Jansy might be autistic, but I know that’s absurd. After all, he’s usually very sociable, and very keen to take part in everything. It isn’t autism.’

‘He’s always easy with me,’ Anne insisted. ‘I’ve no idea why everyone’s so down on the little lad. Bright as a button, with quick reflexes. Means one’s got to be on one’s toes when looking after him.’

‘He doesn’t take up too much of the girls’ time?’

‘Swings and roundabouts. He’s demanding, but he entertains the other children. Why don’t you send him back next week? You really need time off.’ She looked uncomfortable. ‘I don’t mean to be rude, Lisa; but you look terrible.’

‘You think you could cope with him?’

‘Of course I can, my dear. No problem at all. We’re all longing to have him back. He’s such a leader, you know. He really brings the others along.’

‘He ought to stay off the milk, and the clover honey,’ Lisa said, her voice dropping low. ‘Some people are very allergic to clover.’ She hesitated slightly. ‘And the eggs and cheese. Maybe he can’t cope with the very stuff which is good for the others. I’d better send his food round with him. Can you arrange he only eats that?’

‘I’ll see to it, my dear; just as you like. If you think there may be trouble with bacteria I’ll drop eggs for the time being, anyway.’

As they were sipping tea Lisa noticed the sun had turned blood red. A huge globe hung in the sky above the Levels, an evening mist veiling it. Just after five; they’d all be back by now. She must go home, help get them tea, help bathe them.

Lisa felt some of the weight she carried lifting from her shoulders. Anne liked Janus, wanted to have him back. And Trevor had agreed with Alec that she was overwrought, that she’d been fantasising. After all, Trevor had pointed out, she was creative. Didn’t she use that wonderful imagery in her work? Wasn’t that the point of it?

And there had been no buried body. That was the fact which even Lisa found difficult to come to terms with. Perhaps Alec was right and she’d dreamed the horrors, the whole thing.

‘Thanks, Anne. Come over later and have dinner. After eight, when the kids are asleep. Have you met Trevor? I think you’d get on well.’

‘I’d love to, my dear.’

When she got back Lisa was surprised to see there was no car in the drive, or in the garage. It was now misting thick across the moors, the light fading fast. Had the men taken the boys out for a cream tea? She checked her answering machine. No messages, no calls to her mobile, no texts.

Something began to make her nervous. Something was happening to her children - she sensed it, felt it in her bones. She paced about the living room and began to fret. The gloom was coming down fast. She decided to drive to the Tor to look for them. She couldn’t miss them on the moor road if they were heading back.

The traffic in Glastonbury was unusually busy. Saturday, Lisa reasoned to herself. She heard the wailing of a siren, felt the usual frisson of apprehension down her spine. A car crash, perhaps; sympathy tightened her throat.

Winding her way up Fisher’s Hill, then along Bere Lane, she turned right into Chilkwell Street. She could already see a small crowd jamming the turning into Well House Lane, and caught a glimpse of revolving blue lights. That’s where the accident must have been! Alec’s car was probably locked in. The simple explanation of why they weren’t home yet.

Driving slowly now, wondering where to park her car, a sense of panic welled up from somewhere deep, crept into consciousness, began to grip her. What if it hadn’t been a car crash; what if one of her children had had an accident? Was that why they hadn’t returned, why they hadn’t phoned?

Simply abandoning her car in the middle of Chilkwell Street, Lisa pushed into Well House Lane and elbowed over to the ambulance. Her heart leapt madly. Trevor was standing by it, his hands clutching Sebastian and Jeffrey. She saw he’d caught sight of her.



‘Lisa!’ she saw him mouth.

She had to get closer. ‘Let me through!’ she shouted, slipping between bodies, forcing herself forward.

‘How did you hear?’ Trevor asked as she reached him.

‘Hear? Hear what?’

‘My dear.’ He took Jeffrey’s hand and put it into Seb’s. ‘Hold on to him Seb. I’ve got to talk to your mummy.’

She saw him step towards her, his dark blue jeans backlit against the headlights. She saw his eyes gleam wet, catching the blue light, the tears rolling down his cheeks, haloing them.

‘My poor darling.’

The black legs moved as though he were a raven; his nose glowed like a beak. His arms rose up, the black anorak taking wing. She moved away, cowered away from him.

‘I am so very sorry. We really took such care, I don’t know how it could have happened. It was so quick – ’

‘What?’ she shrieked. ‘What? What’s happened? Where’s Jiminy?’

‘Jiminy slidded down, Mummy!’ Seb was crying at her. ‘Jiminy slidded a long way down and lay quite still!’

‘He’d taken his coat off,’ Trevor was saying, holding her, hugging her. ‘To sit on. We thought he looked tired. And it was slippery, you see. He simply started sliding down.’

‘Where’s Janus?’

‘I’m sorry, my dear. It was Jansy who took the brunt of it when he slipped down.’ He held her tight again. She felt confined, imprisoned, coerced against her will. She wrenched away, pummelled at Trevor, fighting him off. He let her go, talking at her, hands hovering after her, trying to soothe her. ‘He’s a remarkable little boy. He tried to catch his brother and held on to a bush. That broke his fall.’

‘Janus is dead?’

‘No, no, my dear. Janus has had an accident. He’s – ’

‘It’s Jiminy, isn’t it?’ She looked at Trevor, standing silent now, head bowed. ‘Isn’t it?’ she screamed at him. ‘My little Jiminy; he’s gone?’ She pushed his hands away, stood apart from him, moving back into the crowd making way.

‘Jiminy started sliding down on that shiny blue anorak and Jansy was in front of him and sort of broke his fall. Jiminy fell on top of Jansy, who saved himself by grabbing at a thorn branch. He’s broken something, I’m afraid. I think maybe his leg, but I’m sure he’ll be all right. A green fracture.’

‘He pushed Jiminy?’

‘Jiminy crashed into him, Lisa. There was no way Jansy was responsible. And he was such a brave little chap. He – ’

She could no longer think. She let out one long scream of anguish. ‘Jiminy’s dead! My Jiminy!’

It seemed to Lisa that hundreds of eyes began to stare at her, to gleam at her, to point.

‘I’m a doctor, let me through.’

And as she watched, unable to move, a young man came towards her, grasped her arm, held it tight. ‘Is this the mother?’

Alec was coming, too. Tall Alec, slow walk, bowed down, wet tears, glasses slipping down his nose. His arms held a small blue-clad figure lying limp.

‘Lisa,’ she saw his lips move, wet globules weeping down his face.

She screamed at him. ‘Don’t touch me! Get away from me! I told you. I told you and you wouldn’t listen!’

The young doctor took out a syringe and plunged it into her. A sedative, she supposed, as she slipped out of consciousness.





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