The Entity Pt. 05

The Doctor went on to explain that Michael's opportunity had been nothing but luck.

"A colleague of mine," his hands went up in an expansive gesture, "called late one rainy night to beg me to help him. More to the point; to help you.

"Keep in mind, Michael," the Doctor said in a hushed tone, "what we do here is actually illegal. Very few people know about all our research. A few of my colleagues, Mrs. Miller, who's funded all this amazing work, her legal representative, and now," he paused for dramatic affect, "You."

"You mean the old woman that came into my room the other day?"

"The same, Michael. Although Mrs. Miller has literally poured millions into lobbying for cloning rights, our governing body still shuns the idea," a theatrical shudder to emphasize his disgust with the limited vision of the governing body.

Michael sat stunned, trying to assimilate all he'd been told.

"But why, Doctor, was I put into a body that wasn't mine?"

The Doctor smiled, not just to put Michael at ease, but because he knew the hook had been swallowed, "You died a year ago, Michael. You were buried," the Doctor paused for effect and dabbed at the corner of his right eye, "I went to your funeral, Michael."

Michael's back went straight as if someone had nailed a board to his spine and his jaw went slightly slack. Truly concerned, the Doctor stepped to his side and checked his pulse. Kneeling beside his chair the Doctor continued in a low, reverent voice, "The day you woke up was the day we transferred your mind."

"We only had time to do a scan before you died, and take some tissue samples. Well, as best we could, given the state of your body.

"The body you're in," the Doctor continued smoothly, "Was cloned for the first experiment. Fortunately for you, you became that first experiment."

Standing, the Doctor returned to his chair opposite Michael, tented his fingers across his chest and continued, "You have a couple of options, Michael. Mrs. Miller has provided a trust fund for you and her legal department has prepared a complete identity to go with it. You would live very comfortably the rest of your life, with two conditions.

"You can't tell anyone the truth until such time as we decide the time is right to announce to the world, what we've achieved. Also, until that time, you will not be able to contact anyone from your old life. We can't risk exposure, Michael. Not yet, anyway.

"Or, we have your tissue samples and can grow you a new body. You'll simply have to wait seven years or so, in the body we've given you," the doctor waited to deliver the finale. He wanted the fat ladies song to carry the weight and authority it deserved. "But either way, Michael," he leaned forward, his expression one of wisdom and authority, "You can never go back to being Michael. You were buried. I actually spoke briefly with your parents and saw your Linda. I know it's a high price, Michael, but what price would you put on someone giving you life. On life itself!"

Michael was left speechless.

"Some day, Michael, your story will be told. I promise you that. You and Mrs. Miller will be the world's heroes as people are plucked from the clutches of death and given a second lease on life," reaching across, the Doctor placed his hand on Michael's knee as a father would a son, "I'm sure you'll do what's right. You're a good man, Michael."

The elevator opened onto a huge space that occupied the entire roof of the facilities main building. Surrounded by a wall that was actually an extension of the buildings brick façade, no exterior view was afforded other than sky. A lush green garden of potted plants, crawling vines and wind swept palms could be found everywhere he looked.

Small groupings of chairs with umbrella tables surrounded a cool green patch of earth, six inches deep, where a finely manicured lawn was maintained. It reminded Michael of a garden pool he'd visited with Linda once at a hotel in Mexico. The only difference was the green color of the grass as opposed to the blue color of the tiled pool.

Stepping to the grassy edge, he kicked his sandals off and waded out into the cool green blades. Just as good as a pool any day, he thought, as he luxuriated in the response of his body to his surroundings.

His nurse sat at an umbrella table in the shade guarding his cane.

In spite of all he'd learned today, he felt exhilarated. He felt truly alive. He stood, arms out in a crucifixion stance, head tilted back facing the sun, eyes closed and cried soundlessly. He couldn't decide if they were tears of joy or sadness.

*****

Theodora drew a deep breath and smiled before opening her eyes. Roses. She knew how many without even looking. She'd left very specific instruction before her transformation. The smell was strong and intoxicating having traded her olfactory for a new, younger version. Her smile broadened as she recalled how her father had lavished her with roses during their time in Mexico.

Her body was weak and tired but willing as she tested her limbs and flexed her fingers, her plague of thirty years of arthritis banished.

"Yes!" She was surprised at the volume and timbre of her voice but she found a familiar reference in her memory and her body tingled with recognition.

Her nurse appeared, "How are you feeling this morning, Mrs. Miller?"

"Like a kid," she replied and burst into giggles.

The nurse studied her face as she took her pulse and blood pressure. "You must be careful, Mrs. Miller. Remember, your body has no built up immunities. You, just as, Michael, were inoculated as your bodies were grown, but a common cold could kill you in your weakened state."

Theda frowned a little at the nurses' party pooper spirit but smiled broadly again. "How is, Michael, doing?" A warm rush of excitement and anticipation pulsed through her body.

"He's good. He's using a cane today and will probably be rid of that within a week. His mind has finally settled into place and his memories have connected. It seems he's fully recovered."

Theda knew what Michael had been told and what he must be feeling right now. She knew he'd never go back. These small details didn't bother her. Everything had been planned carefully.

"I want to get up. I want to get started."

"Now, Mrs. Miller, you need to eat and we need to take it slow the next few days. Keep in mind, your body has never eaten solid food. We have much to do to get you up and about."

She knew it was true. But she also knew that she could almost fly on shear will alone.

"Then let's get started. And call Rudolph in."

Yes, she thought, much to do and an appointment to keep.

*****

The Entity only became suspicious when he crossed the name on the registry with the brand new Mercedes sporting a New York state paper tag from the same dealership Bob Nunn had last been seen at.

In human terms, it only took seconds, in his hyper-speed of light terms, it seemed like forever but at last he found the security tie in for all the cameras at the Palace hotel in San Francisco.

It had taken an hour, which seemed like another eternity, but Scanner Bob had ridden an elevator, where the Entity first recognized him, walked across the lobby, out the door, and as the Entity changed cameras again, gotten into his shiny black Mercedes.

A few thought processes later and an instant message went flying off to Linda's cell phone.

The Entity made a note in some memory block in some computer somewhere to tell Tammy to get another cell phone. Now that they knew who he was, at least they could stay in touch.

He didn't know if they still considered him an evil denizen. He didn't know if they were still afraid of him. He didn't know if Linda thought him a freak. He didn't know if Tom recognized a friend reaching out or saw only an adversary to be analyzed and squashed.

He did know many things. He knew that if he didn't want them to, they'd never be able to destroy him. He also knew that the threat he represented had been downplayed in the press, which, he thought, must mean someone believed him.

He also knew that if he wasn't shut down soon, if he wasn't erased so he could never regroup, he would go mad. Then, he knew, they might have reason to be very afraid of him.

*****

Scanner Bob had left Allessandra naked, as per the rules, working diligently on his suits. Walking into the Akron bank branch he stepped to the manager's desk and asked if it would be possible to open an account.

"That's what we're here for. What type of an account would you like to open?"

"I want to transfer a large amount from an offshore account to a savings account at this branch."

"Great!" the manager's droopy features brightened at the thought of opening a big account.

"How much are we talking about?"

"Over a million," Bob deadpanned it as if a million dollars were pocket change to him.

"That's wonderful. I'll just need some documentation, we'll fill out some forms and we can make the transfer before lunch."

"Here, I've written down all my personal information. You can fill out the forms from that," Bob suggested sliding a piece of handwritten paper across the desk, "and do you have a phone where I can make a phone call in private."

Pulling the slip of paper to him, Mr. Bradley, employee of the month for Akron bank's Monroe Street branch in San Francisco, knew how to please. "Why yes we do, ah, Mr. Cartwright. Just follow me."

Scanner Bob followed the drab fellow to his boss' office and took up station in the leather swivel chair behind the seat. Lifting the handset from its cradle he stared openly at Mr. Bradley until the unspoken words suddenly popped into the idiot's brain.I said private.

"Right. I'll just be filling in the forms," and Mr. Bradley backed out of the office.

"Hi. Is this the ICB?"

Bob went through the receptionist, an assistant and finally found Linda's boss.

"Hi. I'm Mr. Thompson, head of personnel, Akron bank in Manhattan."

The Captain knew immediately who Akron bank was and suspected what the question was going to be.

"Yes, Mr. Thompson, how can I help you today?"

"Well, this is rather embarrassing, but I seem to have misplaced an employee," Bob chuckled in a familiar tone. Just a couple of hard pressed managers trying to keep up with their assets.

The Captain laughed as his assistant handed him a note. Glancing at the information he smiled and dismissed his assistant, "Right. Tell me about it," leaning back in his chair he continued, "You're looking for Miss Spalding. She and one of our agents, Miss Woo, flew to Chicago yesterday. They'll be returning this evening."

"Aha. Out jetting around on the company dime."

The Captain laughed at the obvious joke, "My agent is very happy to have Miss Spalding's help. I also understand the trip to Chicago was paid for by the ICB," glancing at the piece of paper again the Captain added, "I see you're here in town. Would you like Miss Spalding to get in touch when she gets in?"

Bob panicked a little and pack peddled, "No, no, no. That won't be necessary. I'm out here on another matter and just thought I'd check on our wonder girl. Make sure she didn't need anything."

"I know what you mean. I'll just tell her you called"

"Sure. That would be nice of you," Bob was starting to sweat. The deception was getting complicated, "One thing though."

"What would that be?" the Captain asked.

"I'm not leaving until next week so she won't be able to get in touch with me at the office. I seem to have left the name of the hotel she's staying at back in New York. Do you happen to know?"

"Oh, it's much simpler than that. She's staying with my agent, Miss Woo. Let me give you the phone number."

Bob wrote down the number, signed off and hung up the phone. Stepping into the lobby he noticed Mr. Bradley was away from his desk. With quick strides he walked through the bank lobby, out the door and headed back to the hotel. Mr. Bradley will be sorely disappointed he thought. His chuckle belied any concern he might have.

Linda Woo. How nice. What a wonderful time the three of us can have together. His thoughts turned to Allessandra and he amended his idea. Four of us! Even better. More the merrier.

Turning into a True Value hardware store to purchase something he decided was needed.

"Yes, four. The thickest you have."

Pulling the wooden handled item he spied from its perch, stuck into a piece of Styrofoam by the register, he threw the ice pick on the counter beside the plastic painter's tarps.

"I've been looking for one of these. Add that on too."

Turning on the car stereo he searched around until finding a classical station. Georges Bizet's passionatecigerrettegirl was just starting her aria from the famousopéra-comique. Yes, he thought, something else to enhance the moment. Stopping at a Tower Records he made his selection. Thinking two hours might not be enough, he selected another CD.

A Sharper Image store provided a Bose Wave system in platinum white.

Scanner Bob was ecstatic. Yes, Tammy, I'm coming. Just think what a party we'll have.

Leaving his car with the Valet he asked the Bellboy to take his things up and asked at the front desk and found the business center. A few minutes search and he wrote down the address that went with the phone number the Captain had given him.

He couldn't decide if the ice pick was an ocular tool or something a heart surgeon might use for a penetrating procedure. No matter, he thought, I'm sure Tammy, Linda and Allessandra will enjoy it no matter how I decide it should be used.

Chapter 14

Tammy and Linda were both tired. Chicago and back, though wrapped in luxury, was still a little grueling considering airport security these days.

Linda pulled her wheeled carryon while Tammy followed, her overnight bag slung over her shoulder.

In spite of the chilly mood of the morning, Linda had explained excitedly what she'd discovered during Tammy's absence.

"I took the names you have, starting with Theodora and Mary, and did a little research with, Michael."

Tammy couldn't put her finger on why Michael's inclusion bothered her but she listened as Linda explained.

"He had traced ownership of the Waverly Hills clinic through several companies and up a tree of shell corporations, right back to Theodora Miller.

"He also believes that Mary Miller was Theodora Miller's sister," Linda paused before continuing to see how Tammy would react, "He's sure Theodora has died. Probably long before computer tracking and record keeping became all the fashion. He's also been unable to find any record of her estate being passed on after her death.

"All the shell companies, which go back down the tree to Waverly Hills, are controlled by a board of lawyers."

Tammy looked perplexed, "But if they're related, why did the family never talk about her. Why don't I know about her?"

Linda smiled, then quickly stifled it when she thought how what she was about to say could effect Tammy. "It seems Theodora's father, Thomas Lee Miller, had a secret. When her parents learned they were expecting a second time, a local speculator and business man showed up at his doorstep to collect on a marker he held. Do you know who Robert Williams is?"

"Why sure. That's my grandfather several generations back."

"Well, Thomas Lee's wife died shortly after the birth. Someone actually wrote a biography about Thomas Lee, given he was one of the most reclusive magnates of the period. Thomas Lee went so far as the courts to try and stop the book's publication. Even with all his power and influence, he was unable to squelch free speech. He showed up at the bookstore the day the book came out and wrote a check for one hundred thousand dollars to purchase all printed copies, as well as future rights to the book and its content.

Tammy sat fascinated as Linda continued the tale.

"Michael found articles in the morgue, the place where all past copies of newspapers are stored for future reference, of the Chicago Tribune which has computerized their records all the way back to 1852, that covered the trial, surrounding scandal and subsequent pay off.

"It seems that shortly after his wife's death and the shellacking he received in the Tribune, he decided to pull up stakes and move west to California."

"Okay. I'm starting to see a tie in with me. What's this have to do with the Entity?" Noting Linda's hurt expression; Tammy amended her statement, "Well, with Michael?"

"Michael isn't sure, but he thinks that's where he is. Well, at least where he's stored. But wait, let me finish.

"The famous book that Thomas Lee purchased was burned. All printed copies were destroyed and the author's hand penned manuscript was thrown on the pile. At least that's what everyone thought. It seems that Thomas Lee actually kept a copy. That copy, inadvertently, was included in a bequeath made to the Santa Clara University, along with his other personal books and some selected personal papers. The book is kept in the rare book section at the campus library and the literature department has started scanning and OCR'ing all the rare books to stem the inevitable loss of their historical value.

"It also seems that what Thomas Lee was adamant about hiding was that he'd been forced to give Mary, Theodora's sister, to Robert Williams at birth. His greatest shame, although that was surely shame enough, was the author's speculation that Elizabeth Ann, his wife, died of heartbreak, knowing what her husband had done."

"But why did he do it? What could a wealthy man owe to another that he couldn't repay with money?"

Linda had hesitated before going on, "According to the book, Thomas Lee was quite the philanderer. Some of this is confirmed by the Tribune's social section and some of it Michael dug up through computerized county records.

"Robert Williams had a daughter. At eighteen they had a coming out party for her and invited all of Chicago's elite, including Thomas Lee and his wife Elizabeth.

"Sometime after midnight, Robert and his wife noted the absence of their daughter but really didn't become concerned until most the guests had left. While Robert's wife was entertaining Elizabeth, Robert made another pass through the mansion and still couldn't find his daughter, Mary.

"Becoming frantic, he recruited the servants help and started a search of the grounds of the estate that sat on the edge of Lake Michigan. It was actually Robert Williams that found his daughter in the boat house.

"She was completely naked, bent over a work bench, where Thomas Lee was 'rutting her like a mad stallion' - words used in the book.

"There were angry words and 'fisticuffs', as the book says. Thomas Lee and his poor, shamed wife, Elizabeth, were escorted from the property. A rivalry was born but soon took second stage to what happened to Mary. Further insult was heaped on when she discovered she was with child. That night she took her own life.

Tammy was fascinated. "Maybe that explains something. But finish first."

"Well, after reading the suicide note which explained how Thomas Lee had been pursuing her weeks before the ball, how she hadn't given in willingly, well, not at first, Robert confronted Thomas Lee. Thomas Lee was indifferent. The book claims an unconfirmed report of a challenge to duel. Something no longer done at the time and something that had seldom been done in the States.

"Thomas Lee laughed in his face and had him thrown from his office. A week later, Robert, going through his office, came across an innocuous piece of paper in a box of things that had belonged to his father.

"It took a while to comprehend but it was a contract to loan $10,000 dollars to one Newsome Lee Miller, Thomas Lee's father, the true patriarch of the Miller fortune.

Tammy had retrieved bottled water from the servi-bar and moved to a bed where she propped up a pillow, kicked off her sandals and leaned back to listen some more.