The Clone who Didn't Know (The Genehunter) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the last would be killed, too.’
    ‘You didn’t like your grandfather much?’
    ‘Didn’t meet him, did I? Not the original. But I met his genetic twins and I know all the stories of what he did, what he was like. My mother told me everything. Pure evil he was. I almost feel sorry for any clone of his, going about knowing what they’ve come from. Now, leave me alone and don’t ever come back, understand?’
    The woman stepped back into the gloom of her hovel and slammed the door in Simms’ face. He could smash it back open, sure, but there didn’t seem to be much point.
    ‘Please, Mrs. Douglas,’ he shouted after her. ‘Can you tell me anything? Can you tell me what you know about this surviving clone?’
    The door remained shut. He could hear the woman’s slow, shuffling footsteps receding from him, the sound of her muttering to herself. Simms swore. What should he do now? He turned to leave, but stopped when he heard the old woman’s footsteps approaching once more. Perhaps she’d forgotten everything that had happened already and had come to see who he was.
    ‘Mrs. Douglas?’
    The door opened, back on its chain. This time the old woman held out a square of card.
    ‘If I give you this I want your word you’ll never come anywhere near me ever again. Understand?’
    ‘Sure,’ he said. He had nothing to lose.
    Simms took the piece of card. The woman slammed the door closed. Standing there on the step, Simms looked at what he’d been given. It was an old photograph, the colours faded now. It showed a man in an old-fashioned suit sitting behind a large wooden desk. His fingers were poised over the keyboard of an ancient, bulky computer. The man scowled at the camera as if disapproving of it. Writing beneath the picture identified him as Dr. Grendel, Professor of Genetics at London University. But it was the man’s face that really caught Simms’ attention. He stared at it for a long time, cold dread seeping through his insides.

     
    Simms materialised in the familiar, plain reception room of the Arizona refuge. As before, a disembodied voice spoke to him, its metallic tones echoing in the empty space.
    ‘Please state the purpose of your visit.’
    ‘I need to see the clONE hit squad who captured me four days ago.’
    ‘Please provide the names of the individuals you wish to see.’
    ‘I don’t know their fucking names, do I? Just speak to someone from clONE. I know they’re here. They’ll know me. And tell Kelly, too, if she isn’t one of them.’
    ‘Please wait, Mr. Simms. Someone will be along to collect you soon.’
    After several minutes, the door from the outside opened and the woman who led the hit squad stepped into the room on a rush of desert heat. She strode towards him with her dancer’s grace, like she could twirl him a roundhouse kick any moment. She assessed him for a few moments, not speaking. Simms returned her stare.
    ‘So, you found the DNA we wanted, Simms?’
    ‘I found it.’
    ‘And are you prepared to … hand it over to us?’
    ‘Is that what you want me to do? Or has all this been some elaborate game for your own amusement?’
    The woman sighed, looked out through the window, then back at him. ‘Tell me, how does it feel? Knowing you weren’t brought into this world because two people loved each other, or because someone longed for a precious child. But because, as you once put it, you’re made up of the right bunch of numbers ?’
    ‘How do you think it feels?’
    The woman nodded. ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ she said. ‘Do you mind the heat?’
    ‘I can take the heat.’
    They stepped out into the glaring furnace of the sun. Through narrowed eyes, Simms could see the houses of the refuge’s inmates, looking just like they had that first time he’d come. Was Tom Jacks there? Had he ever been? It barely mattered now. It all seemed like a long time ago. The woman turned onto a different path and led him towards a smaller cluster of low buildings.
    ‘We very