‘Laptop!’ Clarissa said. ‘I need to contact my parents. Do you have your phone?’
‘No,’ Michael said. ‘They took it all away from me before they brought me up here.’
‘Well damn,’ she said with the amused exasperation he had always found particularly charming.
‘Tell me about the last thing you remember,’ he said again, beginning to wonder if she was deliberately avoiding the question.
‘Oh, of course,’ she said. ‘We were shopping in Horizon Plaza on Ap Lei Chau, we were looking at gorgeous coffee tables made out of longhouse doors, and I went to the ladies’, and they grabbed me then.’
‘I remember that,’ Michael said, nodding confirmation. It matched what the sentient stone in her engagement ring had said. ‘They replaced you with a copy and I never knew.’
She fingered her cutlery, her expression stricken. ‘That’s awful. I thought you’d come and find me, I didn’t know they’d replaced me. I was mad at you for a long time.’
‘I know. I’m sorry. I was deceived; first I thought the copy was you, then I thought you were dead. I was misled by people I trusted.’
‘What gave the copy away?’
‘Some of the copies are programmed to explode.’
‘Good god, that’s awful,’ Rhonda said. She lowered her voice. ‘Michael, Clarissa and I…’ Her voice petered out. ‘I mean, it’s obvious that the Demon King is using us as a tool to make you do what he wants. Are you sure we’re the real us?’
Michael hesitated. The Dark Lord had said that the broken and miserable Clarissa in the wheelchair back home was the real one. His mother had died, been Judged in Hell, and reattached to the wheel of rebirth. These two women had to be copies.
‘But we’d know if we were copies. Surely we’d know?’ Clarissa said before he could reply.
‘Most of the copies were unaware,’ Michael said.
‘Is that why you’re…’ Clarissa gestured helplessly towards him. ‘Is that why…’
He nodded silently.
‘Do we look like copies?’ Rhonda said.
‘No,’ Michael said, and she relaxed. ‘But I’ve been fooled by copies of Clarissa before.’
Clarissa put her elbows on the table and her face in her hands. ‘What if I am? What if I explode?’ Her shoulders shook. ‘What… what—’
‘Clarissa.’ Michael rose and went to her and pulled her up out of her chair and into a hug, but she pushed him away. He stood next to her without touching her and spoke intensely to her. ‘It’s okay. Don’t worry about it for now; we’ll sort it out later. I’ll do this job for the King and we’ll take you home and even if you are a copy, you’re still my Clarissa and the Dark Lord will know what to do.’
‘And if he says we’re demons? And I’m a copy? And there’s a real Clarissa out there, who isn’t me?’
‘Nothing will happen. I promise.’
‘But if I’m not the real Clarissa then you’ll want to be with the real one! Where will that leave me? I could be a living bomb, programmed to explode the minute I’m back home!’
‘I love you.’
She looked up into his eyes, desperate, and must have seen his uncertainty because she turned and ran out. Rhonda and Michael hurried to follow her. She scurried up the stairs and along the landing, threw herself through a door and slammed it shut.
He rapped on the door. ‘Clarissa?’
‘Go away!’ she shouted from inside.
‘Michael.’ Rhonda gently pushed him aside and stood next to the door. ‘Clarissa? Let me in. We can talk.’
There was no reply, and Michael had a horrible vision of Clarissa harming herself in her desperation and panic.
‘Clarissa, I’m in the same situation as you; I could be a copy as well. Let me in and we can talk.’
Clarissa was silent for a long moment, then she said, full of tears, ‘Just you, Rhonda.’
Rhonda nodded to Michael, who nodded back.
‘Go back down and finish your dinner,’ Rhonda said. ‘Just leave us and we’ll talk tomorrow when you’ve rested. Find an empty guest room, there are plenty.’ She opened the door gently, went inside, and closed it behind her.
Michael stood, helpless, in front of the door and didn’t hear them talking. Eventually he wandered back downstairs to the dining room and sat in front of his cooling beef.
When the demons came to clear the plates, he stopped one. ‘You. Wait and talk to me.’
She stopped, hovering over the plates, then stood back from the table and wrung her hands. She was in the form of a teenaged half-European, half-Chinese girl; slim and childlike, with huge, terrified eyes.
The other demons quickly took the untouched plates and returned to the kitchen, obviously pleased that they hadn’t been singled out.
‘What’s your number?’ he asked the female demon.
‘I don’t have one, sir,’ she said, studying her hands as she twisted them together. She realised what she was doing, put her hands behind her back, and continued to look at the floor in a show of humility.
‘No number? You have a name?’ Michael said, surprised.
‘I don’t have anything, my Lord. When the masters need me they shout at me. Except for the King, who makes me do things with his will alone.’
‘I understand. How long have you been here?’
She shook her head, silent.
‘No idea?’
She shook her head again.
‘Have you always been here?’
‘I have vague memories from before I came. Nothing much, sir.’
‘I won’t hurt you, you can relax. I just want some answers.’
She stiffened and collapsed in on herself, bending her head even lower.
‘Are there any other humans here?’ he said.
‘Not in this building. This building is the only one I am permitted to be in.’
‘I see. Have you heard sounds that would suggest there are other people here?’
‘Never, my Lord.’
He took a wild shot. ‘Has the King ever discussed his plans in here?’
She went silent and dropped her head even more. She was so curled up with submission that her chin was resting on her chest.
‘Thank you. Dismissed.’
Her head shot up and she gazed at him with wonder.
He waved her away. ‘I mean it. Thank you, you’ve been very helpful. Return to your duties.’
She lit up, then quickly shut down the smile. She nodded to him and raced back into the kitchen. A minute later she returned to the dining room and bowed deeply to him. ‘I thank you for your kindness, my Lord.’ She slipped back into the kitchen, still full of wonder.
The demons returned with a dessert of plain sponge cake that was not only obviously pre-packed, it had seen better days – it was dry and crumbly. The serving demon – a different one – cringed away from him as she placed the plate in front of him.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,’ he said to her, and she jumped. She didn’t reply, she just ran into the kitchen.
He fiddled with the cake for a while then rose and left the dining room. He checked Clarissa’s door; no sound from behind it. He rapped on it and was ignored. He sent his senses inside; both women were in there, asleep. Rhonda had obviously nodded off sitting on the bed with Clarissa’s head in her lap. He smiled slightly at the fond relationship they had developed, and wished for a moment that this was real and they could come home with him and be a loving family. He shook his head; that was for later. Right now he had a job to do.
He went down the stairs to the entry hall and tried the front door but it was securely locked even though there was no locking mechanism he could see. He could use his metal abilities to dismantle it but it felt like vandalism to destroy something so beautiful. He wandered through the ground floor until he found the kitchen; the work surfaces were stainless steel but the stove was a huge wood-fired one and there was no refrigerator. The demons were busy washing the plates and all stopped when he entered.