A Sheep Called Dolly

By jinnis

"Congratulations, you scored 234 points. This makes you eligible for the foundation's special support program."

I hadn't known the foundation of the Society for Development and Innovation, the SDI, offered a support program. But since I was as eager to leave school behind as every other girl in my class, I had taken the test as another annoying milestone to pass. Obviously, I had been wrong.

"What kind of program is that?" My parents weren't rich, and I had learned early that a girl had to earn her place in the world. Perhaps this was my chance.

The counsellor straightened his tie and glanced at me without the hint of a smile. "The foundation will grant a stipend and support your studies at an elite university."

This was better than my biggest dreams. I knew I couldn't afford the scientific career I dreamed of if I had to pay for university. I was so excited that I almost missed his next words.

"If you do well, you might also be eligible for a personal clone."

I had to tell myself to close my mouth. How cool was that? Only the most important people owned an individual clone, people like the president—or famous pop stars, who needed someone to stand in for them.

But for the moment, all that mattered was the stipend that painted my future in a shade of rose.

That night, I celebrated with my parents. My dad was glad he wouldn't need to support me for the coming years from his meagre income. My mother was too ill to say much, but her eyes sparkled almost like they did back in my childhood, when the world still looked like a friendly and exciting place.

The university was everything I had hoped for, and more. I had always been a talented student, but for the first time, I was free of my bullies and the need to fit into the teenage world. Here, I was pushed to develop my potential and delved into my studies with fervour.

Three years later, when I was offered the chance to donate cells for the foundation's cloning project, I was exhilarated. As a single child, I had always wanted a sibling, and an identical twin would be so much better.

Of course, I needed patience. Growing a human out of a lump of cells took time—not as much as a child would need to grow up, but close to two years. In the following months, I visited my sister-to-be as often as I could. Her developing form drifted in a vat filled with a green nutrition slime, oblivious to the world and my inquiring gaze.

One night, on my way from the lab to my dorm, I ran into someone I had hoped to never see again. "Rob? What are you doing here?"

Surprise faded to annoyance when the young man stared at me like he had done so many times at school, his gorgeous blue eyes as innocent as ever. Why had I even bothered to talk to my ex-bully? Mentally, I slapped myself, preparing for one of his verbal assaults.

Instead, he frowned. "Excuse me, madam?"

"It's fine, Rob. Don't bother." I turned around and took another path. But the encounter kept worrying me until late. What did Robbie, the womaniser, do here on campus?

I found the solution the next day when I arrived in the lab, looking forward to work on my test series on enhanced nutritional proteins for my master's degree. My colleague Daisy mumbled a greeting, not looking up from her screen. The deep fold over her nose announced her frustration.

"Hey Day, what's up? Are you still cross-checking your data?"

"The program keeps giving the same blasted error message. I fear I'll have to control the measurements one by one. Wish they would assign us one of the new Bob clones for menial stuff like this."

"New Bob clones?" I had never heard about them, which surprised me since I followed the progress of the cloning project.

"Don't you watch the news? It's all over the headlines. Workforce Inc. floods the market with the first serial working clones these days. The labour unions are arming up against the mass destruction of blue-collar jobs while WFI makes a fortune on the stock market."

I pulled out my phone to check a few headlines.

Bobs Make WFI a Bob or Two

Care for a Bob?

Get Your Bob Now

It's Bob Time, Baby

"But why are they called Bobs?"

Daisy shrugged. "Seems they cloned some dumb bloke called Robert or something. The perfect prototype of the worker, as some journalists call him."

"Huh." The pieces of the puzzle fell into place. That's why Robbie had been so confused and didn't recognise me yesterday evening. But why? Why had he given his consent for an entire army of clones being nursed?

Intrigued, I knew I had to dig deeper. During my lunch break, I started research. WFI was an independent firm and had nothing to do with the university or SDI. First hand information on them proofed rare, and the lack of public accessibility made me suspect something shady going on. The next time I met a Bob in the green outfit of the campus maintenance team, I stopped to talk to him.

"Hey, can I have a word, please?"

He set down his litter box. "What can I do for you, madam?" His attention was on me, but his familiar face didn't show recognition.

"Are you Robbie Derwin?"

"No, madam. My name is Bob 247, and I work with the campus maintenance. Can I help you?"

So they were numbered. Despite my dwindling hope of getting information, I tried to give another try. "Do you remember the day our school team won the youth football cup?" If any of Rob's memories lingered, he would, since he had been captain of the team—and it had been the day he proposed to Tamara, my best friend.

"Sorry, madam, I don't know about football. If I can't help you, I'd better continue with my task." He picked up the litter box and walked on. I watched him go, relieved he didn't share Robbie's memories, but still intrigued and needing to know more.

After a week of useless research, I knew I had to try a different angle and called Tam. We lost contact after she fell in with Robbie, but she was genuinely pleased to hear from me and catch up. With a little one on the way, I learned she was about to marry with a little one on the way, and of course, the father wasn't Rob. Seemed he had dumped her right after the finals to pursue a professional football career. At least she could tell me where his parents lived and which club he signed up with. At the end of the call, we arranged for a girls' day the next weekend.

Elated, I continued my search. With Tam's input, it was easy to track Rob down.

Two days later, I waited for him in front of the gym where he worked as a coach. At first glance, he seemed older than his twenty-two years—and exhausted? For a moment, old ghosts invaded my mind, and I was tempted to let him pass without talking to him. But curiosity gave me the strength to step up.

"Hey Rob, how are you?"

"Samantha? What are you doing here?"

He didn't call me Sams, which I took for a good sign. I shoved the temptation aside to tell him I passed by coincidence. "I was looking for you. We need to talk."

A deep fold formed between his brows. "Talk about what?" Was this suspicion? Or just annoyance? I couldn't remember that I ever elicited another reaction than amusement from him.

"About clones, and why you agreed to let this happen."

"Ha." He ran a hand over his face. "The naked truth is I didn't, right? They tricked me and cheated me out of my rights."

Wow. That the lofty former football star admitted this to me made me pause. "Right. Let's get coffee somewhere."

He nodded, and we walked to a small coffee shop in mutual silence. Once we settled at a corner table, I took the plunge. "So, what happened?"

Rob cradled his mug in both hands, staring into it as if it held the wisdom of the world. "They approached me during my first season as a professional player, promised me a fortune and some. I should have been wary, but I didn't care. After all, I was going to hit it big, right?" A shudder tightened his shoulders.

I took a sip of my coffee, and when he didn't continue, I asked, "what happened?"

"After the accident! I had to give up my career before it even began. The doc said if I received another blow to the head like that first one, my brain would be mush for good."

"So, you gave up playing?"

"I had to. And since I was on a sports stipend, there was no way for me to finish university. I'm not a science geek like you who can make numbers dance."

It was true. He wasn't stupid, but slower than most — and stubborn to an annoying degree. "That's when you started working in the gym?"

"Eventually. I tried different things, but in the end, that's what seemed to be the best fit. Definitely better than drug dealing. And as long as I don't bang my head, I'm fine and can even do sports. Only that they now flooded the country with these damn clones. I can't go anywhere without someone taking me for one of them and bossing me around."

A shiver ran down my spine. When I'd first learned about the Bobs, I couldn't imagine the implications this mass production would have on society. I still couldn't, but realised the challenge it would be to walk around with a face everyone knew and associated with someone h they looked down at.

"I'm sorry this happened to you."

"Thanks, Samantha. This means more than you know."

I'd never seen him so sincere and despite my old grudge, I wished I could help him. He seemed to read my thoughts.

"It's my fault, Sam. I should have checked with a lawyer before I signed that blazed contract. You don't need to feel sorry for me."

I lowered my eyes. "Nobody deserves this."

He placed his cup with a bang on the table. "Life is not fair, you know? Well, I have to go. Need to pick up groceries before the shop closes."

On my way home, I mulled over Rob's situation. I didn't envy him, but if he was in a pitiful situation, the Bobs had it even worse. Without childhood memories and a blank past, they weren't considered fully human. Their lives were hardly better than slaves'—and without the possibility of leaving their lowly status behind.

To my surprise, my feet had carried me back to the campus without a cognitive decision. My researcher's key allowed me access at night, and I slipped in, heading for the labs. I didn't return on the light but sat down in front of my clone sister's tank, watching her slender form, looking like a toddler version of myself now and growing fast.

She had her eyes closed and suckled on a thumb. My mom still owned a childhood photo of me in a similar position, laying in my cradle. I wondered. Had this really been a good idea? Would she ever be more than a slave? Or could she impersonate me, at worst, taking over my place in society? I felt remorse. Like Robbie, I shouldn't have signed that contract. Not while it was unclear how society would take to clones. And how clones would take to society. What if I pulled the plug now? Sabotaged the process before my clone reached functionality?

As if she could feel the intensity of my thoughts, the clone opened her eyes, her gaze locking with mine.

I shivered and shrank back, for the first time afraid of the being drifting in that tank.

It all began with a sheep called Dolly. But where would it end?