Identity X Read Online Free PDF Page A

behind him and he steadied himself against the shiny white tiled walls.  He
sat down on the first empty seat, his eyes heavy and head swimming from the whiskey
shots.  In the warmth of the bar he had still felt clear headed in spite of his
difficulties with his vision, but now sat on the train as it rumbled along the
tracks sloshing the contents of his stomach about with every bump he felt more
than a little drunk.  He could feel the contents of his stomach somersaulting
back and forth, and he considered the humiliation that would ensue if he was
not able to overcome the urge to vomit into the small metal grooves on the
floor in front of him.  The vision of being escorted from the station was a
sobering idea, and he clenched his jaw together and clung onto the silver pole
next to him and immediately felt better.  The sight of the pole made him
consider where Mark might be going later on in the evening if he didn’t manage
to sweet talk Ami into leaving with him, which for an unjustifiable reason Ben
hoped would be the case.  Mark ending up in another type of club and a couple
of hundred pounds poorer would be the best outcome as far as Ben could see,
although in the same breath he appreciated the foolishness of his own desires.
    He
rested his head back onto the graffiti covered window and stretched out his
legs in the almost empty carriage.  His only companions were an old man with a
deeply wrinkled face propping his hands up onto a walking stick positioned like
a staff in front on him, and a boy probably no older than eighteen.  He wore
his hood pulled up loosely over his head and his oversized headphones silenced
out the world around him.  Ben thought about the first results from earlier on
that day, and how many diseases he already knew he could cure.  If he could
repair genetic code with just a simple injection there would be no end to the
possibilities.  Pharmacy would be redundant in many cases.  Lives would go on
normally without hospital visits and surgery.  Children would be born and
screened, and treatment could be given before even the first sign of disease
would show.  Nobody would have to die because of genetic illness.  Nobody’s son
would have to sit outside on the porch whilst the undertakers came to remove
the body of their father.  Nobody would suffer the fury of their father’s fist
because he simply didn’t comprehend his own actions anymore.  Nobody would have
to wait to see if their own child would develop the crippling illness that
curse d through their family like a
malevolent and volatile fault line.  All of his years of hard work, and all of
the hours of effort had finally been rewarded.
    He had at least ten minutes of journey
time left before he had to disembark the train, and he closed his eyes and let
his mind travel to Dubai, where Ami reclined on a sun lounger next to his own
with a bottle of sun lotion ready in her hand.  His dream was interrupted by
the vibration of his telephone and he fished it out from his inside pocket.  It
was a picture message from Mark of a woman wearing a tight pencil skirt that he
assumed based on the perfectly formed shape of the enclosed rear end must
belong to Ami.  The caption read, early night?   Ben’s finger lingered
over the delete button for a while and after wrestling with his conscience and
telling it no, decided to leave the message and place his telephone back in his
pocket.  Five minutes later he took it back out and took one final look before
pressing delete.  It was definitely Ami, and he wondered how such a small thing
as a message combined with a lot of imagination could place a blot on an
otherwise perfect day. 

THREE
     
     
    By the time Ben was walking up his front steps the sky had
cleared completely, and the streaks of cloud had passed by to reveal a blanket
of twinkling stars.  He was already regretting deleting the photograph, and
wished that he had had the clarity of mind to at least email it to himself