The Replica

Am I a murderer? He watched a comatose Replica of himself through the thick industrial glass. No. If anything it’s suicide.

He was going to die soon. Ailed with a disease unsolved by science. The Replica was to be free of this burden. It was him in every other regard, ready to continue his research on his passing, to look after his daughter Lily.

Twenty-six times he had failed, each iteration moving closer towards perfection. Maybe this one will speak. What will I tell myself? He fiddled nervously with the control panel activating the machines that would wake the limp form on the other side of the pane.

It was an uncanny experience watching his own eyes open for the first time. The confusion swirling in them as they took in the sterile white room. The Replica went to raise its arm towards him only to be stopped short by the restraints. Confusion began to give way to fear. It looked directly into his eyes, uncertain.

He tapped the intercom. “Do you know who you are? Can you speak?” 

It opened its mouth making a gurgling sound, thick phlegm running down its chin onto the surgical gown. It finally managed to suck in a breath. On the exhale, in a meek, rasping voice it said two words. 

“kill me.” 

It sucked in another breath laboriously, fear now evident in its face. “let me die. please.” 

Blood began to seep from its left nostril flowing slow at first, but gaining speed as it traced a path down its chin mixing with the clear residue. It was a pitiful sight to behold. I had hoped that this would be the one. It can even speak. He was torn away from his thoughts by the Replicas growing volume. 

“kill me. Kill Me. KILL ME.” It screamed tearing its fragile vocal cords.

It was going manic straining against the harnesses, obviously experiencing pain. The stream of blood now a river mixed with an unsavory gray. Something had once again gone wrong.

He decided to grant its request, a look of deep regret flashing across his features as gas shrouded the dismal view.

Twenty-seven.

Twenty-seven suicides.

+++++++

He opened his eyes. 

“Do you know who you are? Can you speak?” The questions reverberated through the colorless room.

At last, success. He tilted his head to the side to cough up the nutrient fluid that coated his trachea. Better say something before I gas myself.

“We’ve done it,” he exclaimed, as loud as his tender throat would allow.

He was filled with relief, he would be able to watch Lily grow up and she wouldn’t have to know the pain of losing a loved one.

He knew months of testing would follow… his Precursor would demand it. He certainly didn’t mind though, he also wanted to make sure he was complete.

Throughout the analysis that followed it amazed him how normal he felt. Aside from slight muscular weakness and a bit of light sensitivity it seemed as if he had just woken up from a long nap suddenly cured of his disease. It quickly became apparent that he retained all of his old memories and had the exact same personality as his precursor. No matter the complexity of the question, him and his precursor gave identical answers using identical body language. 

As testing progressed it became clear that as his emotional disposition improved his precursors rapidly declined. This was to be expected though, the precursor was no longer necessary and tomorrow was the day he would take his place at home. I can’t wait to see Lil’s smiling face…

+++++++

He watched the screen, horrified and fascinated as the Replica entered his house. He half hoped that Lily would recognize it as an imposter. He would get to spend at least a bit more time with her then. If this test of integration was successful it would be the last nail for the coffin of his usefulness and worse than that he would never be able to see his daughter again. It was more painful than he could have possibly imagined to watch himself slowing being replaced by something he himself had chosen to breath life into.

The Replica was now in the kitchen fixing up Lily’s favorite, PB&J. It toasted the bread and spread on the peanut butter and jelly in a 2 to1 ratio before cutting off the crust and slicing the sandwich in half. It was like watching a tape, he had to keep reminding himself he was seeing a Replica and this wasn’t just him from the past.

There she was, his angel, skipping into the room. A tomboy if there every was one, her bobbed hair stuck out at all the wrong angles blown into disarray, knees and elbow were covered in mud and scrapes. She was the scrappiest little 9 year old he had ever known. It broke his heart watching her hug the Replica warmly as it tousled her hair handing her the sandwich. It felt as though he had betrayed her given her something fake in his stead. He knew it was irrational, the Replica was him in every sense, that was why he had created it, but he had never counted on the pain of being replaced.

Over the next few weeks he silently rooted against his creation, but it passed every test with flying colors and Lily was none the wiser to its presence in her life. It had even begun to continue his experiments where he had left off, trying to find cheaper and more efficient ways to produce replicas. Replicas making replicas… it seemed so wrong now. 

If no tests were failed in the next three months, it would spell the end for him, it would be a job well done, the culmination of a lifetime of work. He dreaded every second of its success.

+++++++

Looking at the remote in his hand he knew what had to be done. For the sake of his work, for the sake of his daughter.

It had always been part of the plan, they had warned him what success would entail. Now he sat alone in the room where so many of his creations had met their end. One quick flick of thumb and he would join them, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

No matter how many times they told him he was no longer necessary, no matter how many times he told himself, he couldn’t come to really believe it. He had done so much up to this point. He had carried the Replica project on his shoulders and death was the sour reward that he had given such little thought to.

He looked up and found the Replica gazing at him through the glass, a look of disappointment and pity written across its features. Maybe I can work this all out, maybe I can see Lil again. I’ll explain everything and we can send the Replica away. I have at least another year before the disease takes hold. I’ll just have to— He stared on in shock as the Replica pressed the button. The world rapidly faded to black.