In all the worlds that he had visited, he had never seen one with a society that needed fixing as badly as that of the planet Aldis. He was sorry that it had taken the Siblings of Humanity so long to get around to this world. He was utterly appalled by what the Aldisians had managed to accomplish in just under one hundred and fifty years of self rule.
When was the Concordiat going to learn that colonies should never be given legal autonomy?
Hearing the sound of approaching feet, Reese looked up. The door slid open and two guards escorted a third man into the room.
The prisoner was wearing the loose gray clothing of the detention block, but he looked oddly content with his lot in life. Reese felt his mouth drawing into a thin line. This might be even more difficult than he had anticipated.
The prisoner was short, dark and thin, neatly shaved, and had eyes that were a somehow disconcerting shade of blue. He smiled genialy at Reese, nodded pleasantly, and then began to examine his surroundings.
"That will be all," Reese told the guards. They looked at other, shrugged and left. Reese allowed his gaze to return to the prisoner. "Zachary Creegan?" he asked.
Creegan nodded absently, still smiling. "Creegan number four," he said.
Reese frowned heavily. "Take a seat, Mr. Creegan."
"Creegan number four," the man repeated, sitting down.
Reese's frown deepened. "I will not call you that," he said. "You are an individual, a human being, and, as such, you deserve a name, not a number."
Creegan was still smiling, his eyes examining every corner of the room eagerly. "No, I'm not," he said.
"What?" Reese asked.
"A human being," Creegan said, his eyes finally coming to rest on Reese's face. When Reese looked puzzled, he continued, "I'm not a human being. I'm just a clone. Perhaps you didn't know that?"
"You are a human being," Reese told him firmly.
"I'm a clone. Clones aren't human beings." Creegan didn't seem bothered by this fact. His smile was as luminous as ever. He seemed genuinely delighted about something. "It's quite nice to be out of my cell, though. This is really a nice room. Very pleasant. I haven't been here before."
"Mr. Creegan," Reese began. Creegan opened his mouth but closed it again after Reese glared at him. "Mr. Creegan," he repeated heavily, "Do you understand why you're here?"
Creegan chuckled and nodded. "Of course," he said. "As if I wouldn't!"
There was a pause, and then Reese prodded, "Well?"
"Oh. Well, my original, Zachary Creegan, is probably about to be convicted of a crime." There was a pause, then he added with relish, "Murder!" His eyes were sparkling.
"Uh...yes," Reese said. "And his conviction appears certain."
"I hope so!"
Reese struggled for words for a moment, then he said, "Don't you understand the consequences here?"
"Of course I do!"
"Then how can you be so happy about it?"
Creegan's smiled broadened. "How can I not?! It means that I'll finally get to fulfill my purpose!"
"It means that you'll get to go to the execution chamber in his place!"
"That's my purpose."
"To die in the original's place."
"Sure!" Creegan sat up in his chair. "And I was beginning to think that it would never happen!"
"I don't understand this," Reese said. "I don't understand you."
"Well," Creegan said. "It's like this. My original comes from a rich family. Some people are too poor to buy clones." He shook his head in sympathy. "But my original was able to afford seven of us. I'm the fourth. That's where my number comes from, of course."
"Yes, I know that," Reese said irritably. "And I also know where your three predecessors are." He began to tick them off on his fingers. "Number one is serving twenty years in prison because your original committed bank fraud. Number two is in prison for some kind of embezzlement scheme that your original masterminded. Number three was executed last year because your original had three people killed."
Creegan nodded. "Correct. And I will be executed because my original had seven people killed." He rubbed his hands together eagerly. "And so justice is served."
"Justice?" Reese yelled. "How can you call that justice? You're going to be executed for something that someone else did!"
"Yes, and that keeps the legal system fair and uncorrupted."
"Excuse me?" Reese said, his mouth falling open. "Did you say 'fair and uncorrupted?'"
"Certainly." Creegan leaned forward and waved a finger at Reese. "Why do people attempt to subvert the legal system? Fear of punishment, of course. Thanks to the clone system, my original doesn't have any need to resort to such actions."
"Of course not!" Reese cried. "Why should he? He isn't in any danger. But how do you equate that with justice?"
"The penalty is paid," Creegan replied, as if the answer were self evident.
"But not by the person who committed the crime!"
Creegan waved off the objection. "I'm genetically identical to him."
"But you aren't him!"
"Close enough."
"And he gets away with murder."
Creegan laughed. "He isn't getting away with anything. I'm going to be executed for his crimes."
Reese shook his head. "But he goes on living. And he could commit more crimes."
"Yes," Creegan said. Was there an almost imperceptible hesitation there?
Reese pressed the point. "And he could keep doing this forever!"
"Now you're just displaying your ignorance," Creegan chided gently. "He's only got seven clones."
"What's to stop him from having more made?"
"Legally, clones can be no more than one year younger than the original. That means that there's only about a three month window after birth when clones can be created. His family had seven made, and that's all that he'll ever be allowed to have." He suddenly looked even more pleased. "So it's even got a limit! That should make you happy." He sat back in his seat and nodded once. "It's a good system we've got."
"It's a horrible system!" Reese protested. "You are going to die for a crime that someone else committed. It's not right! It's...it's...inhuman!"
Creegan laughed. "I'm not human," he said. "I think that's the point that you keep forgetting."
"How can you be genetically identical to a human being but not be human yourself?" Reese asked.
Creegan shook his head. "That's one of the oldest mistakes there is," he said pityingly. "A human being can only come directly from the union of sperm and egg. Everyone knows that. Even children know that. It's obvious."
"It's not obvious to me," Reese said. "Explain it to me."
Creegan smiled. "I can't."
"Aha!"
"It's too basic. Some things are so fundamental that it's nearly impossible to explain them. If you can't understand it intuitively, I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do."
Reese grabbed a handful of his own hair and pulled it nearly hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. "Now," he said, "Let's make that sure we both understand what's going on here. You are genetically identical to a human being."
"But not human," interpolated Creegan.
"Identical to a human being," Reese repeated firmly, "And you are going to allow yourself to be executed in punishment for murders committed by another man."
"Who is human," Creegan finished.
"And this makes sense to you?"
"Certainly. I'm amazed that it doesn't make sense to you. Look, the crime must be punished, can we agree on that?"
"Yes," Reese said. "We can agree on that."
"And I am genetically identical to the criminal, right?"
"But you aren't the criminal!" Reese protested.
"But I am genetically identical to the criminal," Creegan said patiently. "Right?"
"Correct."
"So I will be put to death in his place. That means that the crime will be punished and that a human life will be spared. It's a win-win situation."
Reese uttered a sound of pure frustration between clenched teeth. "How can you be so blind?" he yelled.
"How can you?" came the calm rejoinder.
"You know, cloning of humans is outlawed on all the planets of the Concordiat," Reese said.
"And countless humans die needlessly because of it," Creegan countered. "And you call us blind." He shook his head sadly.
"Okay," Reese said with obvious exasperation. "Let's try it this way. Did you commit this crime?"
"No," Creegan said with a laugh. "How could I? I was in the Living Center as I have been all of my life."
"Indoctrination center, more like," Reese mumbled.
"I'm sorry?" Creegan asked.
"Never mind. Now, you didn't commit the crime, but you are going to suffer the penalty, and you call that justice."
"Of course. The life of a human is worth more than the life of a clone. Another obvious point."
"Even if the human is a criminal who will commit more crimes in the future? Even if the human might kill other humans in the future? After all, your original has now been in court for murder twice."
Creegan paused. "Yes," he said. Again, there was a barely perceptible hesitation.
Reese shook his head. He could see that there was an opening there, but he didn't have time to capitalize on it. The period allowed for his visit was almost up. He reached into a satchel that was lying up against his chair, selected a disk and withdrew it. The psychosociologists had prepared several of these disks. His job was to select the one which he thought most likely to pierce Creegan's certainty.
"I have some things that I'd like you to read, he said, offering the disk to Creegan. "Will you do that for me?"
"Certainly," Creegan said. Then he hastily amended his statement. "If I have time. My original will surely be convicted within the next few days if not sooner. But, really, I don't understand why you're doing this. What is it that you expect of me?"
"The group that I represent is interested in morality and justice for all humans," he said. Then he held up a hand to forestall Creegan's response. "And clones," he continued. "This place..." his gesture was obviously meant to take in Aldis and all of its inhabitants, "has one of the most unjust societies that we have ever encountered." He leaned forward, his eyes boring into Creegan's. "It has to be changed. It will take time, but it can be done, and it has to be done from within. Outsiders can make all the speeches that they want, but we can't reach the people of this world the way one of their own could. The way you can."
"Well..." Creegan said hesitantly. "Sure, if there was anything wrong, and if I was human, but--"
"After Creegan gets convicted, he'll be sentenced. You'll be present at the sentencing, is that right?"
"Of course."
"And you'll get a chance to speak?"
Creegan frowned. "Well, technically, yes, but nobody ever--"
"That's right. No one ever speaks. No clone ever speaks. But you could."
"Well, yes." He looked rather intrigued at the idea. "But what would there to be to say?"
"Read the disk," Reese urged. "Then speak in open court about the injustice of a system that condemns the innocent while letting the guilty go free!"
Creegan smiled and shook his head. "You don't--"
"Just read the disk, all right?" Reese said, standing up.
"Certainly," Creegan said. He held the disk up. "I'll start today."
Reese offered Creegan his hand. "Good luck," he said.
Again Creegan smiled and shook his head, but he didn't speak. What could he say that he hadn't already said?
Reese returned to the room that he had taken and waited impatiently as the days passed. What would happen? The literature on that disk had been written by some of their best people, and it articulated the truth in a way that Reese had not been able to do in person.
Besides, as the days passed and the trial progressed, perhaps the reality of Creegan's impending execution would change his thinking.
Reese watched Creegan's trial from in the courtroom when he could and on the screen when he couldn't. It took four more days for the trial to wrap up and little time at all before the guilty verdict was registered. The sentencing hearing was the next day.
Reese made it into the courtroom that day, and he was amazed at the differences between the original Creegan and the clone that he had first seen just days before. The original looked thuggish, somehow, even cruel, despite a veneer of respectability. It was something about his eyes and the set of his jaw. And he radiated a contemptuous arrogance that Reese found repulsive. This perception was strengthened when he saw the original and clone side by side for the first time.
Where the original was hard, the clone was genial and easy going, though he was looking somber at this moment.
The law required that the judge address both men, pronouncing the sentence on both, though only one would lie under its weight.
Everyone else in the courtroom was quiet as the ponderous legal phrases rolled forth, and then the moment that Reese had been both anticipating and dreading arrived.
"Does the defendant have anything to say before sentence is pronounced?"
The question was a formality, and the judge scarcely paused before he opened his mouth to continue, but Creegan number four suddenly said, "I do."
The look of astonishment on the judge's face was almost comical, and the startled gasp that issued from the spectators drowned out the fierce, "Yes!" that Reese uttered.
"You...what?" the judge asked.
"I wish to speak."
The judge looked around the courtroom for a moment and then said, "That is your right. What do you wish to say?"
The clone looked around the courtroom, taking in everyone and everything. His eyes lingered on Reese's face for a moment and the ghost of a smile and the glint of good humor brushed across his face and then vanished as he turned back to the judge.
"Some days ago," he said, "I was paid a visit by a man who questioned our system of justice. In fact, he questioned the use of punishment clones at all."
The spectators rustled and a babble of conversation had to be squelched by the judge.
"We spoke, and he gave me a disk to read." There was a long pause. "All my life, I never questioned our system." He shrugged. "But now...I do."
Reese was quietly exultant. He had done it!
Creegan looked at his original. "You've committed crimes," he said, "But your clones are punished for your deeds." His gaze swept the courtroom again. "What kind of system punishes those who have done no wrong while letting the guilty go free to commit further wrongs? How can you call yourselves human when you allow these things to go on?"
He looked back at the judge. "You cannot in good conscience, in the name of humanity, do this to me."
Yes! Reese was unconsciously rubbing his hands together. The clone was still going to die, of course, but that was all right. The important thing was that the first steps toward change had been taken.
"You cannot send someone who is innocent to jail," the clone continued. "I will not allow it."
The motion that followed was so quick that seconds passed before anyone realized that Creegan number four had pulled something out from under his tunic and thrust it into his original's chest.
The original, a very surprised look on his face, gurgled and collapsed to the floor.
The courtroom dissolved into pandemonium. Two guards grabbed the clone, one taking each arm, but it was unnecessary to hold him. He stood patiently, beaming genially on everyone and waiting to be captured. Two other guards rushed to the fallen man, but he was quite dead.
"There was blackwater toxin on the spike," the clone explained to Reese who had rushed forward and pushed his way to Creegan's side.
"What have you done?!" Reese cried.
He had to lean forward to hear Creegan's reply. The crowd in the courtroom was screaming and shouting, the judge was ringing a bell and calling for order, and too many people were talking at once for most of what was said to be intelligible.
"I did what you wanted," Creegan told him.
"What?!" Reese cried, appalled. "This isn't what I wanted at all!"
"Yes, it is," Creegan replied with a smile. "And you were right. It had to be done."
"What are you talking about?!" Reese said.
"Now my original won't be able to kill any more humans, and the court won't be executing someone who's innocent." He grinned at Reese. "Don't you get it? I'm guilty of murder, so now it'll be okay when they kill me. Everything worked out like you wanted!"
Reese stood there, his face set, and watched as the guards finally led Creegan away. At the door, the clone called back over his shoulder, "Thanks for coming to see me and setting me straight! You should go visit all the other clones and talk to them, too! Visit them all!"
Reese watched the door swing shut, the gabble of the crowd falling around him but failing to reach him. Then, very slowly, he turned and walked out of the courtroom. He boarded a ship bound offplanet the same day.
Bio:"I am a college biology teacher living in the southeastern US with my wife, one dog, and one cat, which is plenty of cats but several dogs too few. All in all, I think the universe is a lot sillier than we can possibly imagine, which won't stop me from trying."
E-mail: benedete@esn.net
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