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Identical

Journal - Monday, March 17th, 2122. The subject was genetically identical to the host. Tested full cognitive memory using DM –Technology with upscaling memory implants. The process perfected the ability to have dual memories in a single host. The body has been destroyed to prevent the government's seizure of the patent. Data of procedure encrypted.

****

Journal - Friday, March 14th, 2122. The final stage is completed. He’s awake.

He looked at me, smiling ear to ear.

“We did it. We created a clone,” he chuckled, lying on the table. The heart and blood pressure monitor shut down as soon as he jumped off the stretcher.

His examination robe fell to the floor. I glanced at the family jewels. Well endowed. Same as me.

“Are all my vital readings in the normal range?” he asked.

“The same as yours,” we say together.

“Yes,” I say. “We are a mirror image of each other. Same age, same vitals, same thoughts…”

“Until a few minutes ago,” he added, reminding me that he’s generating separate thoughts in a brain capable of handling much more.

I picked the clothes for him. Light blue jeans with a light grey Oxford shirt, untucked. I had the same, but with black denim.

“My idea,” I pointed out. “The jeans. The only difference between the two of us is the color of our clothes.” He looked at me as I studied him.

“I need to document our findings in the Journal,” I say before noticing he has done so already.

“When did you?…”

“When you left the lab to inform Torrie of the results,” he confirmed. “You should bring her here for consultations. After all, she’s my assistant Geneticist too you know.”

“Your assistant? How’d you come up with that?” I questioned, remembering he’d watched me lock him in the lab as I went to update Torrie about my groundbreaking process.

“I gave her another project to work on,” I lie. “The clone experiments are illegal as you know, out of government scope. Only one of us will ever leave this lab alive,” I honestly tell him.

“So," I continue, you’ve updated the Journal stating that you’re the host and … I am the clone?” We stare each other down, two images echoing back perfectly.

****

Journal - Saturday, March 15th, 2122. We spend the afternoon watching High-Grade Ultra Definition movies and family clips. He knew the names of all my favorite films and the people in my social circle. I asked him what he would do if he could leave the lab.

“Get a cold beer, hot wings, and a pretty girl.”

“Hooters!” we say and high-five each other.

I Add To The Journal: Hard to believe that's me. I’ve found a way to immortality. Back up my memories and store them. When my body ages, I’ll have my memories transferred into a young cloned version of myself. I’ll never die. - Many thoughts race through me as we play chess, our third game. Third draw.

“Why don't you bring Torrie down to the lab,” he requests humbly.

“Why?” I ask.

“Well if my time is short, It would be nice to see some eye candy. You know, like at Hooters?

Late Entry: He smiles as I realize Torrie will be the instrument of death. She will bring his first and last cold beer.

“I’ll ask her to bring some spicy wings, and wear a short dress,” I say.

****

Journal - Sunday, March 16th, 2122. The task was completed. I have disposed of the body and all traces of genetic cloning from the lab. Regrettable, but it had to be done. My focus is on dual memory technology now.

“How do you feel, after...seeing the body discarded?” He asked. Her body language revealed discomfort lying on the monitoring table wearing a thin exam robe.

“It was the original,” she states matter-of-factly.

“Yes, but the mind is the most important thing to consider here,” he reassures her.

“Anything you wish to talk about?” He waits for a response.

“Your clothes. You have on his black jeans now,” Torrie said confidently. We high-five each other.

“This was a good time to test your dual memories. Do you remember the significance of the jeans?

“Yes. It was the only way to tell us apart at the time. Those jeans were mine when my mind was in the original body. Now I’m here in Torrie’s body, and her mind.”

“She wanted to play a deeper role in our work. Now she does.”

“You are much better than before. Retaining two memories will make you invaluable to our research. And you have the immortality you desired. Just remember to keep Torrie’s consciousness in the background as we move forward” he tells me, and Torrie while observing the involuntary facial twitch, the mental fight between Torrie and me for dominant consciousness.

“Torrie was always a fighter,” he writes in my journal.