The pain in most of his body—the body, he corrected himself — had subsided to a dull throb, though his headache continued to pound inside his skull. He dropped the hand back onto his face and rubbed the thick fingers hard into his forehead. This can’t be, he thought. Nearly every test they had ever run using the mind data cards had indicated that the layering of data and reconfiguration and reconstitution of the mind synapses could only succeed in a true clone. He couldn’t possibly have awoken in someone else’s body. The contradiction between the thousands of tests he had conducted over the years and what he was experiencing now was nearly as painful as the damned headache that was making it so difficult to order his thoughts. Nearly every test… The one time a test succeeded, the chimp had been one with severe mental issues.
Sit up, he told himself. His arms flopped outwards, each movement uncoordinated and jerky. Lack of muscle memory, Tyoma thought. That was something he had specifically programmed for, knowing that even in a cloned body the muscles would be different from the original body’s. Finally he got his hands positioned correctly and strained hard to shove himself up to a sitting position.
Somewhere behind him he heard a cry — a female cry— and then, “This is like a bad vid. You just won’t stay down, will you?”
Tyoma slowly turned his head, forcing the neck muscles to obey his commands, and managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of a slight young dark-haired woman vanishing through a doorway across a large dimly-lit room. Plastic chairs were scattered around as if a tsunami had blown through. Several meters away lay the body of a man with dirty blond hair and a black solar coat.
Boy, I’m really in trouble, Tyoma thought. What the hell is happening?
Ever so slowly he managed to get to his hands and knees and then used the wall to help himself stand upright. His knees wobbled for a moment until he felt strength flood back through his new body. Looking down from a much greater height than he was used to, Tyoma took in his enormous chest and even larger belly, all covered in black clothing and a gray solar coat identical in cut to that of the man on the floor, though much larger.
Tyoma took some comfort in knowing what had to be going on inside this body. He’d done most of the coding himself after all. Assuming an injector card had been used, some of the code installed in his new slot would be reprogramming nanobots to help his brain assimilate with this body’s unfamiliar muscles. He’d have to move slowly for a while, but the out-of-body queasiness he was feeling should stop before too long.
He probed at his own thoughts, searching for traces of the brain’s previous owner. He’d always wondered what happened with the chimps when they used the injectors on them — were the original personalities destroyed, or were they still in there somewhere, hidden away, waiting for a chance to bubble up to the surface?
He took three deep breaths and then inched his feet around until he could get his back to the wall. Sweat dripped down his face from the effort. He wondered what the hell he was smelling, then realized it was himself. This guy didn’t wash much.
He looked around the room and saw nothing to help him understand where he was. The door the woman had gone through was open a crack and dim light filtered down onto the carpet. I should get outside. Figure out what to do. Maybe go home…oh crap! As soon as he thought of his apartment he realized he was in trouble. Everything he owned, everywhere he had access, his work, his air car, all the money in his accounts, it all ran off the biometrics of his original body. He wouldn’t be able to do anything. He slid down the wall into a squat and breathed deeply to fight back the desire to retch. Wait…wait, he thought. You programmed the recording to copy the contact database over from the old slot. You can call up Kostya. He can help set things straight.
He was steeling himself to try the call when the man on the floor let out a pitiful groan.
Tyoma took a deep breath and wobbled forward several steps before dropping to his knees next to the man in black. He winced when he saw the man’s face. Women had probably found it attractive once, but now the nose was mashed flat and blood dribbled down the man’s cheeks to pool on the carpet. Tyoma felt like a baby trying to say its first word. His tongue still felt like it filled up his mouth, and he couldn’t seem to form it into the necessary shapes to form vowels and consonants. He forced some air through his windpipe but all that came out was, “Khuh…khuh.” Slobber dripped down to mix with the blood on the man’s cheek.
The man groaned again and opened one eye, then snapped both of them open wide. “B-Bunny?! Fuck! Nothing can kill you.”
Bunny? That’s who once owned this body? Must have been an associate of this man. I wish this damned tongue would work.
“Stop drooling on me, would you? Help me up.”
Tyoma wasn’t sure he could stand up himself without the aid of a wall, but he grasped the man’s proffered hand anyhow, got one knee up, and slowly pulled himself upright, bringing the man up with him.
“Ow, my face! My ribs!” the man said. “That cunt really fucked me up. And you! You practically broke my fucking forehead! If my brains weren’t hurting so much, I’d blow your ugly head off.” He put a hand to his mouth. “Shit, my front teeth are loose. You got a handkerchief or something?”
Tyoma instinctively dropped his hands down to pat his coat pockets and felt a lump in one of them. It took a minute to worm his huge hand into the pocket. Inside he felt something very strange, both soft and lumpy at the same time. He grasped the fuzzy object and slid it out of his pocket.
“Shit,” the man said, chuckling despite the pain. “I forgot about that.”
I really must be in some insane dream, Tyoma thought. Dangling from his thick fingers was a scrawny — and quite dead — gray and white cat.
Letting the door swing closed behind her, Zoya gasped when she saw the beauty of the sunset, the skyscrapers across the river limned with red. Stop it, she thought. All you need is for that big bastard to catch you gawking at the skyline.
The parking lot was empty except for the sky cycle, and that was useless without Pyotr. She assumed he was dead, another victim of this damnable day. To her left she saw the dark silhouette of The Pyramid in the near distance. I’m coming for you, you bastards, she thought and began walking toward the sidewalk in the direction of the mobster base.
“Zoya!” came a hiss from the bushes that ran along the side of the clinic. In the shadows she saw two figures. “It’s me, Marcus.”
Zoya took a step forward and peered at the couple. The other figure was her friend Ira. She forced herself to talk through the pain in her jaw. “What are you two still doing here? Are you that stupid? You want to die? I told—”
“We were afraid to leave you,” Marcus said, waving at her to join them in the bushes. “I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving you there with Tavik.”
She shook her head. “Let’s stop talking and get out of here.” She didn’t wait for a response but simply stalked off in the direction of The Pyramid.
“Wait,” Marcus said, jogging after her. “You’re not still going off to get yourself killed in that place, are you? You’re really hurt.”
Zoya kept her eyes focused on her destination. “It’s none of your business what I do.”