Young Writers Society

When Dr. Ian Joyce came in, Snot was where he usually was, with the thylacine.

“A1” Ian called, as he stepped into the room. The boy turned around. He was slim, more so than the average ten year old. A1 always insisted on wearing a dinner jacket as he said it increased his class. He had not a hair on his body, a genealogical fault but it was better than nothing. Oh, the number of times Ian had wished to see Einstein’s eyebrows on that boy…

“Ah, Ian” A1 stood up and shook Ian’s hand. “Good to see you, perfect timing too. Come see the thylacine. This must be you first time.”

A1 led Ian across his flat, stopping now and then to push a pile of books out of the way or mark something down on one of the many chalkboards located along the walls. The boy’s room was truly something to marvel. The government had certainly been generous with their sponsorship. Every scientific instrument you could imagine was arrayed around the room. Electron microscopes, fossils, taxidermy animals, coloured objects in small vials that Ian assumed were pure elements. And the books: every wall was lined with bookshelves stuffed with books creating a kaleidoscope of book spines.

Finally, they reached a cardboard box with a small hole cut out. There were small bite and claw marks near the entrance. Something was snuffling inside. A1 whistled, “Come Cerberus.”

Ian laughed. “You named it Cerberus?”

“Of course.” A1 said, reaching into the box. “Behold the pointed teeth of the death.” With this, A1 thrust out a small creature in front of Ian, holding it high above him as if it were some sort of precious treasure.

The thylacine sneezed, then nuzzled its head into A1’s hand.

Ian laughed again. “You decided to name this little pup after the hounds of Hell?”

It was a small and fragile looking animal. It looked similar to a dog. Small round ears topped off a long snout and squinting eyes. Its fur was a light brown and from the shoulders down it had long, dark stripes, perfect camouflage for it’s native habitat of Australia.

Similarities aside, the Thylacine was only distantly related to the dog. Thylacines are a marsupial, the same family as kangaroos and opossums. They were driven to extinction in 1936, mainly due to man.

“Amazing isn’t it? A perfect example of convergent evolution. Thank you again for the fossils and furs. I’d never have been able to clone it without you.”

There it was. The most incredible thing the boy had ever done. After decades of distinguished professional scientists trying to revive extinct species, this ten year old boy had done it on his first try. Ian smiled, he was proud of the boy.

“Listen A1, that’s not why I’m here”

“No?” A1 said. “I suppose you could be here to kill me. I hear there’s a lot of people who want to kill me. What a wonderful thing the internet is, it can really tell a man when he’s in mortal danger.”

Ian almost laughed at the thought. Kill A1? His own creation. Not for all the money in the world. “I’m not here to kill you! I’d never... wait a minute, you don’t have access to the internet.”

“Ah, well you see...” A1 looked almost sheepish, a rarity for the boy. “How should I say this. In layman’s terms I ‘pick pocketed’ your phone.” Ian caught sight of the homemade wireless router in the corner of his room. He had made it very simply from a vegetable strainer, lots of aluminium foil, copper wire and other electrical bits and pieces he’d had lying around and, of course, Dr. Ian Joyce’s cellphone.

“Jesus, A1, I could be sent to jail...”

“Jesus” A1 interrupted, turning around and pacing the room in a superior manner. “the central figure of Christianity almost certainly existed historically at least. And to quote Jesus ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die’ John 11:25-26. Do you believe this? Truly amazing stuff, really philosophical, billions of people follow this. Not much scientific value, but it does give an interesting perspective on humanity.”

Ian just stared at A1. “You’re not supposed to know that. We specifically made sure you wouldn't know that.”

“And why not, Ian? Because I might feel offended by the general public saying I don’t have a soul?” A1 picked out a book from a nearby shelf and sunk into the sofa. He kept the book on his lap and examined Ian carefully. “Tell me Ian, do you believe I have this mystical, non-examinable substance named soul or am I some sort of abomination.”

Ian paused. He really could have done without this today. ”I don’t believe anyone has a soul.” He said simply.

The boy’s eyes scanned him like a surveillance camera. A1 smiled, finally meeting Ian’s eyes. A1 had the most peculiar smile, almost indescribable to anyone who hasn’t experienced it. It was the most superior smile Ian had ever seen. A little smirk that says I know infinitely more than you, so stop wasting my time.

“You’re lying Doctor.”

Ian sighed but didn’t any anything. A1 already knew.

A1 looked at him again but this time without a trace of a smile. “I don’t feel offended but you should not have kept this from me. One thing I don’t understand, I’m called me snot. Do you know anything about this?” He raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“You were created without nasal mucus membranes. One of the scientists brought it up at a press conference and the name stuck.”

“Ah, I see.” A1 got up from the sofa, turned around and strode to the bookshelf. “Snot must be an abbreviation for olfactory phlegm. Humans - I’ll never completely understand you.”

“You are human.”

“Yes of course, mind you then why don’t I have a name?”

Ian blinked. “What?”

“Why don’t I have a name, doctor? I am human, nothing more, nothing less but all humans have names so why don’t I have one? Why A1 and not Joe or Phillip”

“Alright this has gone on long enough. You know what you are. You don’t need a name A1. Heck, A1 could even be your name - who cares.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Ian realised he was breathing hard and tried to calm his breath. He noticed something different about the boy. He’d only seen him a week ago and yet… there was something in A1’s eyes. A deep sadness. No, much more profound than that. It was as if he had finally accepted who he was. He would have to tread more carefully now. Make sure there were no other mishaps.

Ian finally spoke. “I’m here because the President would like to meet you.

There was a long pause.

“We’d better not be late then.”

***

One knows it will be a miserable day when one sees people holding up signs that read “Death to Snot”. This usually comical scene did not amuse A1. That was something he’d apparently missed out on: humor. What an extraordinary talent. Evolutionarily incapacitating, but perhaps there was a use socially...? He concluded he must study this further when he returns to his lab.

The trip to the White House did not take long. It seemed mere seconds until Ian and A1 were seated in front of the President of the United States of America. He was a tall man with good posture, brown hair and piercingly blue eyes. A1 made a note of the last characteristic especially because blue eyes were not only rare but also going extinct due to the genetic quotia theory.

“Please sit, Dr. Joyce” The president said, then turned to A1 and smiled. “I’m sorry I don’t remember your name.”

He obviously knew A1’s name, he must just have been testing him. A1 did not enjoy being tested. “A1.” He said simply as he sat. “Although today I found out some people call me Snot.”

The president laughed softly. “I assume you know what you are”

A1 sighed internally, it was always a what never a who. “Yes Mr. President. I am a clone. The first human clone I believe.”

“Right you are and I hope you know what you’re made from.”

“With all due respect, Mr.President, I would prefer it if you refer to me as a human, plus it would be grammatically correct.” From what A1 had observed, he hoped this last bit would be considered humorous and might lighten the mood. Instead the President and Ian were shocked and a bit taken aback.

“Yes of course A1, I’ll make sure to.”

“To respond to your question, I was created from DNA, the same as any human being, but my genetic coding was chosen specifically from the families of Einstein, Da Vinci, Darwin, Currie, Hawking and Archimedes.”

“Very good,” Said the President. “Now, why do you think we made you?”

“Are you asking me, Mr. President? Because Dr. Joyce right here created me, perhaps he could divulge the information.”

“No, I’m asking you specifically.”

“Well, there are multiple reason to create a clone. One of the more disturbing possibilities I’ve come up with is I could be some part of a medical or social experiment. However, it seems unlikely to have a clone of my ‘caliber’, so to speak, be a part of such a gruesome scenario. Therefore, of the most likely options I’d say you need my intellect for something. And from what I’ve been reading that something is most likely an energy crisis. It also seems that good education is rather scarce, with the economy being what it is, most can’t afford a proper education, consequently resulting in a shortage of great minds to think up a solution. ”

The President smiled. “Right you are.”

A1 summed up his courage.” Can I ask you one thing, Mr President?” Ian could have broken his neck with the speed it snapped around to A1. Ian looked at him as if he were insane.

The President paused for the slightest of seconds. “Of course.”

“I’ve been trying to figure it out. Why did you, no, how could you create me? I mean, if I was you I wouldn’t.”

The President laughed even though his face clouded. “Not everyone is you, A1.”

“Very well, but how could you knowingly create me with the expectation that I would fix the world while still withholding information from me and give me no sense of belonging. You don’t care about me! I’m an experiment! A petri dish if you will. You could have me shot and no one would care, some might even be happy. So, I ask you again, how could you do such a thing?”

The President looked at A1. “Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven. You are my Hell A1. Even if you were deprived of some luxuries it’s better than serving without you. I assume you know to what I’m referring?”

A1 nodded. “Paradise Lost. But that’s an archaic book, you’d need a great deal of study ...” A1 felt an unnatural chill. He looked at the President’s eyes again. They remained deadly cold. There was something he remembered reading. A study he had conducted in his mind...“Oh…. Blue eyes went extinct a long time ago, didn’t they?”

The President smiled a real, true smile with a eerie hint to it.

“And you thought you were the first Clone.”