“Have you had a chance to visit with your mother yet, Mr. Adams?” Waterson asked the clone.
The clone nodded as he took a seat in front of the desk.
“And how did she seem to you this evening?”
“I’ll agree she did seem a bit confused,” the clone said, “but don’t you think it’s going overboard to talk about having her moved?”
“Mr. Adams, this isn’t something we do lightly. You need to understand this is for her own safety and the safety of our other residents and staff. We are simply not equipped to handle cases of dementia here. We’re a small, general assistance home. But there are a number of other facilities that specialize in these things. Some of them close by. She’d be much better off in one of those. Much happier in the long run.”
“But she likes it here,” the clone said. “Moving will be hard on her. Traumatic, even.”
“There will be an adjustment, certainly,” Waterson said. “But she’ll be fine in due time. I don’t see any other way. I’m concerned about her well-being here. She needs a certain level of care and monitoring that we simply cannot provide. If she were to become confused or disoriented, especially overnight when we’re at minimal staff, well, I hate to think what might happen, Mr. Adams.”
The clone frowned and leaned forward a bit in his chair. “So how do we go about this exactly?” he asked. “Do I just choose another facility? I’m not sure where to begin.”
“I’m here to assist you in any way I can,” Waterson said. “I have a few suggestions here that you can begin to look at.” He pushed a handful of pamphlets forward on his desk. The clone took them and laid them in his lap without glancing at them.
“What are we talking about for a timeline?” he asked. “I mean, does this have to be tomorrow?”
“Regulation dictates that we allow sixty days for the transfer. I would suggest, Mr. Adams, that we move somewhat faster than that. We’ll need to assign a dedicated nurse for your mother, around the clock, until she’s moved. I’m afraid that will be your financial responsibility. It can be quite expensive, you understand.”
The clone pursed his lips and nodded. “I’ll start looking through the information right away,” he said. “Do what you need to do. I understand.”
The clone made a move to stand and Waterson put up a hand to stop him.
“One more thing, Mr. Adams,” he said. “Before you select a facility, there is one procedure I’d like to try, something I think could be valuable in assessing her needs more exactly. It could help in placing her.”
“What’s that?”
“I presume you’ve heard of Meld?”
Jeremiah almost jumped off the couch. “He can’t be serious,” he said.
“You could say so,” the clone told Waterson. “Actually, I work for ViMed Pharmaceutical, the company that produces Meld.”
“Oh, I wasn’t aware you were in the scientific field, Mr. Adams.”
“No, I’m in the communications and marketing department. I’ve worked closely on Meld from that end, though. I know all about it.”
“So, you’re aware of the advantages here,” Waterson said. “Meld would allow us a closer look at precise aspects of brain degeneration. We could pinpoint memory erosion, synaptic collapse, that sort of thing. It could go a long way toward tailoring her treatment.”
“He’s out of his mind!” Jeremiah shouted. “That damned clone better not let this happen!” Brent glanced at him and typed something into his laptop.
“Do you think it would be safe to use on her, under the circumstances?” the clone asked Waterson.
“Oh, yes,” Waterson told him. “Under proper medical supervision, Meld is perfectly safe.” Jeremiah saw an almost imperceptible smile cross the clone’s face at the words, no doubt finding satisfaction at hearing his own jargon echoed back at him. Jeremiah felt like punching in the wall.
“Would you do that here?” the clone asked. “Are you equipped for that? As I understand it, there is a bit of training involved.”
“Not to worry. I’ve already taken ViMed’s course. I know how to use it. I think it would be useful to have it done before the transfer,” he said. “Besides, to be perfectly honest, I’ve been looking for an opportunity to use Meld. It’s a fascinating medicine, really. I think it’s set to be a real breakthrough in dementia diagnosis and treatment. The first real break we’ve seen in the field.”
“It’s a miracle, all right,” the clone said. “I don’t see a problem if you think it could help.”
Jeremiah watched slack-mouthed while his double signed a consent form that would let them submit his own mother to Meld. He wanted to scream. He could feel Brent’s eyes on him, waiting to see if there was anything he ought to put in his report. Every muscle in Jeremiah’s neck strained with the effort to contain himself.
“Jeremiah,” Brent said, “am I correct in assuming you wouldn’t have signed that consent? Would you have refused the Meld? Would you have acted differently from the clone?”
Jeremiah didn’t answer right away. Eyes still glued to the monitor, watching the clone walk out of the office and stop with Nichelle in the hallway, he considered the fact that his double didn’t have all the facts about Meld. Of course the clone wouldn’t see the harm in it. In his mind, it was still the miracle drug Jeremiah had once honestly believed it to be. The clone didn’t know the real reason behind the drug’s creation. He didn’t know what it could actually do. And he didn’t know what it was like to take the drug. To him, it probably seemed like a good idea.
Jeremiah wished, for the hundredth time, that he could jump inside the image on the wall and shake his double by the shoulders.
“No,” he said finally, and with a sorry conviction. “No. I suppose I would have done exactly the same thing in his place.”
Chapter 10
Jeremiah and Brent were quiet as they watched the clone drive home from the nursing home in complete
