By Greg Ballinger

“It’s a fortunate stroke of serendipity that you’ve popped in to see us today, Mr Freeman.”

“I want to know what’s happened to my wife!”

“Please, take a seat.” The man gestured toward a chair on the opposite side of the desk and Mr Freeman took it begrudgingly. “Harry Freeman, I believe your wife recently came in for her scheduled appointment?” Harry simply nodded and the man continued in a controlled, steady tone, “As you are probably aware, everybody is due to report to their local government office for re-evaluation.”

“I’m aware of that,” Harry cut in, “but that ‘thing’ that came home, it’s not my wife.” Harry swallowed, trying to control the wobble in his agitated voice, “It may look like her and sound like her, but I know it’s not her. It’s like she’s been brainwashed.”

“Brainwashed?” The man raised an eyebrow in vacant amusement.

“I want to know what you did to her!” Harry suddenly yelled, slamming his fist down on the desk.

“I can assure you that we don’t do any brainwashing here,” the man told him, remaining calm and detached. “But I would like to know how you came to this conclusion?”

“Well, for a start, she hasn’t said boo.”

“Boo?” 

“She doesn’t sleep,” Harry continued, “or eat.”

“She’s off her food?” 

“If you call not eating, off your food!”

“You are very observant, Harry. You are a credit to the human race.” The man smiled thinly and continued in a hollow tone, “Tell me Harry, do you remember when the bees were on the verge of extinction?”

“Bees?” Harry repeated, puzzled.

“Yes, bizzy bees,” the man stated, flatly. “They were on the brink of extinction and unless some direct action was taken the whole ecosystem was in danger of collapsing.”

“As I understand it, we have more bees in the world now than ever before?” Harry put forward.

“And what do you think of honey? Have you tasted it?” the man asked.

“Of course. Haven’t you?”

“I haven’t, but I understand it’s the best honey that’s ever been produced.”

“Yes, but what’s that got to do with my wife? I’m not here to talk about bees!”

“I want to share a secret with you, Harry.”

“About my wife?” 

“About the bees,” the man reiterated, looking at Harry without emotion. “This may come as a bit of a shock to you, but there is not a single bee left alive on planet Earth today.” Harry sat stunned for a moment and the man continued to explain, “What you see flying around may look like a bee and act like a bee, but I can assure you it is not a bee. The bees died out years ago, along with many other species of flora and fauna.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry confessed. 

“I’m afraid the humble bumblebee wasn’t able to cope with the pressures of our modern world and so an engineered clone was created that was much more efficient.”

“I don’t believe you,” Harry snorted.

The man stood up and walked over to a leafy pot plant in the corner of the room. “It’s been happening right under your nose Harry. Take this plant, beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” 

“Beautiful flowers, lovely scent and it gives off oxygen too which is very important, especially for you Harry.” The man’s face spasmed into a smile as he put the plant down on the desk in front of Harry. “You see how it has no blemishes? Nothing will try to eat or attack it, and do you know why?”

Harry shook his head and the man broke off a leaf, snapping it in half just as if it were made from plastic. 

“It’s just an artificial plant,” Harry spoke out, taking the snapped leaf and examining it.

“It may seem artificial, but I can assure you it is much more efficient than the plant it was engineered to replace.” The man looked at Harry and spoke very calmly, “I must tell you that the only thing that is not artificial in this room, is you, Harry.”

“What have you done with my wife?” Harry asked finally, rising to his feet and staring the man dead in the eye.

“Everything is to be cloned, Harry,” the man told him bluntly. “It is essential for the survival of the planet and the countdown has already begun.”

“You’ve replaced my wife with a clone?” Harry asked furiously, as the weight of the penny finally dropped. With a sudden explosion of rage, Harry lunged forward at the man, but without looking, the man blocked and caught his incoming fist mid-air and with just a small squeeze was able to make Harry squeal in pain.

“Harry, your fighting technique is…” the man paused and gestured for Harry to sit back down, “…inefficient.”

Harry sat down for a few seconds, then frantically bolted for the door, but it was locked and, turning in panic, he realised the room was windowless too. The man eyed him in silence and Harry, resigned to his fate, returned to his chair slowly.

“Look, I’ve been thinking,” Harry stammered. “I actually like my wife now she’s a bit quieter, and the more I think about it, we’ll save plenty of money now she doesn’t have to eat!” 

The man broke into a grim smile, “Be that as it may, you’re still highly inefficient Harry, and you’ll need to be replaced also.”

“What does that mean?” Harry wailed. “What will happen to me?”

“You’ll be cloned and engineered into a more efficient version of yourself,” the man told him curtly, and the door suddenly opened revealing two identical looking men standing there. They entered the room and stood either side of Harry.

“If I’m to be cloned,” Harry sobbed, whilst being dragged to his feet, “what happens to the original me?”

“Humans in their current form are to suffer the same fate as the bees,” the man stated, coldly. “Effective immediately, on the double.”

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