CHAPTER 183: INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS

I left his office the old fashioned way, by the door. Then walked out of the Palace into the late morning sunshine of Guatemala. I marveled at the technology of the android body I was wearing. I could feel the warmth on my skin. The eyes adapted with a slight internal filter cutting down the brightness and glare just enough to keep it from being uncomfortable. I walked the city streets, noticing that the old chaotic tangles of electrical wires were gone, replaced by a single high-capacity distribution line with neatly efficient short lines to each building. I knew that one day, even those would be gone when we introduced the small, self-contained dark matter generators that could power each building from inside.

The streets were clean, garbage routine collected and hauled for proper disposal by the work crews of our charitable endeavors, staffed by former gang-members and criminals, judged safe for release after undergoing our direct implant therapy. The change in the look and feel of the city was dramatic. Yet, it still retained its unique character, evidence of its Mayan heritage mixed with old-world Spanish influences. In this part of the city, both were just flavorings among the modern buildings, not unlike those found anywhere in the world.

I found a quite alley and ducked in, out of site before using my LITV to return to the Status Room. I found Mom and Dad both there, watching a man and a woman getting out of a car on the viewscreen. The man opens the back door and reaches in. He emerges with a large video camera. I see it’s emblazoned with the WCVB News logo.

"What’s going on?" I ask.

"Looks like someone finally put together the names, Susana Bailey, Timothy Bailey, then found two people Susan and Timothy Bailey living at this address in Cheshire, Massachusetts," Mom answered.

"Joe anticipated it and says he’s got it covered," Dad added. "Since you brought up the idea of needing to move the Super-Secret Interplanetary Leadership Headquarters Treehouse Fortress, he been making preparations."

"What kind of preparations?"

"Just watch," Dad replied.

The woman, holding a microphone stood with the house over her shoulder and faced the camera. She spoke for a minute, then turned and walked to the front door. The cameraman following behind, catching it all. At the front door she pauses, and says a few more words to the camera, before she turns half to the door, and knocks loudly.

"But we’re all up here, should someone run down and answer the door?"

"Joe says, it’s all under control," Mom reassures me, shrugging.

Then, I hear mom’s voice from the viewscreen, it’s muffled and distant, "Just a minute..."

I looked at Mom quizzically, she shrugged again, "I don’t know," she replied to my unasked question.

I returned my attention to the screen. The woman gives a brief knowing glance to the camera, then readies herself as the door opens. A woman stands there, its Mom, but her hair is a bit lighter and longer than she’s been wearing it as Susana. Her skin is pale as though she scrupulously avoids the sun. Another contrast to Susana, other differences in her facial features are obvious to me as I look closer, but I can still see a superficial similarity to Susana, but clearly not the same person. "Hello," I hear a voice almost like Mom’s say. Then her eyes fly wide with surprise as she see the camera and microphone, "Oh my, what’s going on here." Her hand flies up to adjust her hair. "Are we live?" Aghast, she says, "I must look a mess!" She quickly slams the door. A moment later, it reopens, Mom stands there her hair no longer disheveled. "Why, hello! WCVB, I watch you all the time. You’re that smart field reporter woman, don’t tell me, don’t tell me... Hannah! Am I right?"

I start giggling, and glance over at mom, she looks a little irritated. I guess she’s not thrilled with the way she’s acting on the screen.

"I look like a complete ditz!"

Dad reaches over and puts his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "Joe’s just using the android to make you look and act different from the Susana Bailey their looking for, dear." Mom softens a little, until Dad continues, "Besides, I think its cute." She turns to glare at him and swats his hand away.

"You’d better be kidding!"

"Yes, I’m kidding, Sue, of course, I’m kidding. You’re absolutely perfect just the way you are. You’re not going to hit me again, are you?" Dad grinned wickedly. Mom just stared at him with a decidedly violent look in her eye.

"I guess that depends on whether you can keep you mouth shut or not," she said with a cold indifference as if it didn’t matter to her one way or the other.

I cleared my throat loudly trying to bring the focus back to the screen.

"’Yes, I’m Hannah O’Rourke from WCVB News, are you Susana Bailey?" She held the microphone toward Mom.

Mom seemed flustered by it, looking right at the mic for second before leaning in very close, "Susan," she said, "I’m Susan Bailey. Is this one of those man of the street interviews? I don’t really follow politics..."

"Are you sure you don’t go by the name Susana? Have you been in Guatemala recently?"

"Guatemala! Good heavens! I’ve never to anywhere in Africa. My husband keeps promising we’ll get to Paris someday, though..." She stared wistfully over the reporter’s shoulder as if she could see the Eiffel Tower itself. "He did take me to Quebec City once though. It was amazing!"

"Is your son’s name Timothy? Is he here?"

"Timmy? He’s here. What is this about?" Mom seemed to get a little more guarded, pulling the wide open door a little closer around her.

"Mrs. Bailey, have you watched the news lately? Have you seen the things that are happening in Central America, Guatemala, any of that?"

"Oh, yes! Oh, did I say Africa? I knew Guatemala was Central America... I must have been flustered by the camera. Yes, did you see that woman down there is named Bailey, too! And she even has a son Timmy! He’s very handsome, don’t you think. My little man is just as handsome in a little boyish sort of way."

The real Mom next to me rolled her eyes, "Oh brother!"

The one on the screened turned her head and called over her shoulder, "Timmy! Timmy, come here for a minute, dear."

A muffled child’s voice comes from inside the house, "Mom, I’m busy!"

Mom’s smile becomes a little strained, she struggles to continue smiling politely, "Timmy, come here please, the nice newslady would like to meet you..."

"Mom, I said I’m busy!"

"Timmy!" Mom remembers the camera after shouting, "Would you please excuse me just a moment?" She says with a big fake smile, then she steps back and closes the door.

The reporter turns to the cameraman, "This looks like a bust," she says.

A male voice is heard from offscreen, "Yeah, it was worth a shot, though."

There is muffled shouting from behind the door, then a moment of silence. The door opens quickly, Mom is there again holding the hand of eight-year-old me. She smiles politely to the reporter, "Here is he. He’s so excited to meet you. He’s never been on TV. Say hello, Timmy."

"Hello, Timmy," my doppelganger says rolling his eyes in disgust.

"Hello," Hannah replies politely, leaning down, "How old are you, Timmy?"

Timmy looks at her and scowls, "About a hundred years old."

Mom is scandalized, "No he’s not, Timmy, don’t be fresh. He’s eight, he’ll be nine in a few months, won’t you Timmy?"

"I guess so."

Mom looks back to Hannah after giving Timmy a sharp look. "Now, what was this about, Hannah?"

Hannah straightens up again and faces Mom. "Nothing, just a case of mistaken identity. Sorry to have bothered you, Mrs. Bailey." She turns to the camera man giving him the ’cut’ sign. He lowers the camera and turns back toward the car. Hannah stays a moment longer, "I’m sorry, there another person with a similar name and we thought you might be her..."

"Oh, dear..." Mom says. Hannah turns away and heads back to the car.

Mom, with little Timmy’s hand in hers, stand at the door a long time, watching the car turn and drive away. When it is out of sight, their faces go suddenly, unnervingly blank and slack. They step back in unison, and Mom closes the door. The view fades back to a tactical map of the area surrounding the house showing the car moving away headed toward the distant highway.

"That was kind of creepy at the end," I said for everyone.

"Do you think so?" Joe’s voice asked from the air around us. "I was going for an ’Invasion of the Body Snatchers’ vibe with the closing scene, the 1978 version, the good one."

"Yeah, maybe don’t do that."

"I just thought it was apropos of an alien consciousness controlling simulacrums made to look and act just like you."

"You think that’s the way I act?" Mom yelled. "I’m gonna slap the alien consciousness out of you the next time I see you!"

"I took some liberties with your behavior. The point was to keep you off the news, not have you go viral for slapping Hannah O’Rourke’s head off her shoulders during an interview."

Dad burst out laughing. Mom slapped him.

I stayed silent.