Prologue
The sun had set, and Richard Rydhart hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights in his office. He stood tall in front of the window behind his desk. It stretched from the floor to the ceiling, and from it, he smiled as his gaze fell across the entire city and its light fell back onto him. It was just enough to make out the pinstripes on his dark suit, a contrast to his neatly trimmed gray-white beard. He smiled because this was his city. It might as well have been, anyway. He was president of the Rydhart Clone Corporation. His clones were everywhere, taking on the jobs that no one wanted to do. What business owner wouldn’t have wanted to use Rydhart Clones? They were perfected. Well, most of them were. Hell, some people even had them in their homes, washing their dishes and folding their laundry! As much as they seemed like robots, like some people used, they weren’t. The clones never glitched, froze, or needed to be recharged. They were also immune to virtually every contagious disease, and best of all, you didn’t have to pay them. Clones were bought. They were property- happy to be, even! That was how Dr. Rydhart’s brilliant idea was accepted. It was coded into the clones’ DNA to want to do whatever they were told. If they weren’t being forced against their will, no one could do anything to stop it. The clones were the perfect slaves, and the perfect way to make millions.
Suddenly, the phone rang, and Dr. Rydhart’s thoughts were interrupted.
“Sir, a Dr. Hackard is here to see you; a medical doctor. He says you were expecting him?”
“Ah, yes. Send him in right away.”
The company president hung up the phone, quickly turned on the lights, and pushed a chair in front of his desk before the impending knock arrived and he opened his door.
“Dr. Hackard,” Rydhart extended his hand towards the young man. “Welcome to Rydhart Corporation.”
Hackard was starstruck. He grabbed Rydhart’s hand and gave it a few strong shakes; not breaking eye contact the entire time. “It’s such an honor to finally meet you in person, Dr. Rydhart.”
“Oh, I’m flattered.” Rydhart chuckled and gestured towards the newly repositioned chair before sitting down in his own. “Have a seat.” Hackard obeyed.
“So. What is it you wanted to discuss with me this evening, Dr. Hackard?”
“Well doctor, I wanted to propose an idea. An idea for... a new use for the clones.”
“... Is that so? A new use for them in your field?”
“Yes, doctor."
“Now, they’ve made decent nurses, but I can’t imagine them performing surgery.”
“Oh no no no, doctor, nothing like that. You see, I was thinking, the clones have such exceptional health, unlike any regular human being as you know, and we can always make more of them, yes? So then I thought, what if we used them as... living donors?”
“You mean for organs?”
"Precisely. And for any organ; not just a lung or a kidney, even the kind the donor couldn't necessarily... live without."
Dr. Rydhart’s brow furrowed and there was a long pause before he spoke. “I don’t know. They’ve never been given a job quite like that before. Their emotional response is unpredictable.”
“You could run tests. I’d be happy to help fund them.”
Rydhart still wasn’t satisfied. Hackard tried again.
“Why wouldn’t the clones love it? This could help a lot of people, and that’s all the clones want to do, right? Help people. They could help people on the end of the waiting lists. People out there are going to die waiting for someone to die before them, Dr. Rydhart. People like... your wife.”
