Amanita: Poison Shot

Chapter 18: Cigarette Burns

Copying the breast catalogue had been the lamest idea I had ever had! I mentally face-palmed.

"Just kidding!" She smiled. "This is the best prank anyone's pulled on me!"

One day she was hot, the next she was cold. Was she bipolar?

"It was a lame idea. I'm sorry," I apologised, feeling stupid.

"I mean it. I like it!" she insisted with approval. "Here's why. You've dared to steal good material. This isn't a low-quality USB. And you've brought me sensitive info: the customers' details and the surgery clinic's agenda. Now, the agenda will be most useful."

"Honestly, these are the first documents I've come across. There's also an encrypted file with passwords. I guess the company's bank account number is there, together with the credit card numbers of clients and security codes. Useful if you're looking for easy money. There were more patient files. Maybe next time..."

"No need." That look of evil satisfaction and desire. Did the encrypted file turn her on? "I can see, for example, that Mrs Nevermore, the wife of the Secretary of State, needs periodic Botox injections. I would've never imagined that the agenda of a cosmetic surgery clinic could be useful to spread chaos in this city. Did you know that the botulinum toxin can be used as a poison if the dose is higher than prescribed? Breast jobs also use toxic chemicals which can be deadly."

"You..." I replied, hesitating, "y-you want Mrs Nevermore to get an OD with Botox?"

Mrs Nevermore was the kindest clone in the world. Would I be responsible for her death? I didn't want that!

"She's a clone," she replied with resentment. "You don't look like you approve, Daphne. Why is that? Don't tell me you feel sorry for her."

I didn't dare to answer. Would she kill me if I disagreed?

"Daphne," she went on, serious as cancer, "she's a clone. She hates our kind and supports a state which has tortured and murdered too many of us. It's payback time. Tell me, Daphne: how much does Daniel's untimely death mean to you?"

He meant the world to me.

"A lot," I replied instantly. "It hurts."

"Great. Welcome onboard, Daphne!" Agape exclaimed with joy, taking for granted that I had consented to murder clones. Then, she spoke with serenity to me, "By the way, I think I should apologise already, shouldn't I? I was such a bitch yesterday, right?"

One minute she was lusting over an encrypted file with passwords, and the next she was planning the murder of an innocent person. And the next thing you know, she was apologising to me. What kind of mood swings were those?

She sounded completely sure of herself in every single mood swing of hers. I envied her for that.

"Look, I don't want anyone who works for me to think ill of me."

"Who said I thought ill of you, Ms... er...?"

Yesterday Siegfried had used an informal form of address, calling her by her first name, but I didn't dare to.

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed as if she had heard nails scratching a blackboard. "Mrs nothing! Call me Agape. My behaviour yesterday wasn't the best. I could've handled it better. I admit my mistakes, and that was one of the shittiest I've made in the last few years. So, I wouldn't hold it against you if you thought ill of me. The mission hadn't gone the way I wanted, and I lost my marbles. I hate myself already."

She was staring at me behind those mysterious mirror-covered glasses. Then, she smiled with her perfect lips.

"Am I wrong about what you think of me? It isn't hard to guess. I know I'm insufferable sometimes – well, most of the time. I might sound tyrannical, but I'm not a monster. Clones are monsters indeed," she added with disdain. Her lips were drawing a scornful line. "They're only keeping us alive to serve them, to work in the shittiest jobs, and as organ donors thanks to the Organ Donation Act as if our lives were expendable and less worthy than theirs. But I'm not gonna amuse myself with hatred when it's obvious that the one who's in a personal hell right now is you."