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IT WAS FIVE MINUTES PAST SIX WHEN TERTULIANO MÁXIMO Afonso parked the car opposite the house on the other side of the road. António Claro's car was already there, by the entrance, by the wall. Their cars are a whole mechanical generation apart, Daniel Santa-Clara would never have exchanged his car for anything that looked like Tertuliano Máximo Afonso's car. The garden gate stands open, so does the front door, but the windows are closed. Inside stands a barely distinguishable figure, however the voice that emerges from within is clear and precise, as the voice of a film actor should be, Come in, make yourself at home. Tertuliano Máximo Afonso went up the four steps and paused on the threshold. Come in, come in, said the voice, don't stand on ceremony, although, judging from what I see, you are not the person I was expecting, I thought I was the actor, but I was wrong. Without a word, very carefully, Tertuliano Máximo Afonso removed his beard and went in. That's what I call a sense of theater, it puts me in mind of those people who like to burst into a room, shouting, I'm here, as if their presence actually mattered, said António Claro, while he emerged from the shadows and stood in the bright light coming in through the open door. They stood stock-still, looking at each other. Slowly, as if painfully dragging itself up from the depths of the impossible, stupefaction wrote itself across Antonio Claro's face, not across Tertuliano Máximo Afonso's face, for he knew what he was going to find. I'm the person who phoned you, he said, I'm here so that you can see with your own eyes that I was not just having fun at your expense when I said we were identical, So I see, stammered António Claro in a voice that no longer resembled that of Daniel Santa-Clara, I had imagined, because you were so insistent, that there was a strong resemblance, but I confess I wasn't prepared for what I have before me now, my own image, Well, now that you have the proof, I'll leave, said Tertuliano Máximo Afonso, No, no, I asked you to come in, now I'm asking you to sit down so that we can talk, the house is a bit of a mess but these sofas are serviceable enough and I've probably got something to drink too, but no ice, Oh, I wouldn't want to put you to any bother, It's no bother, although you'd get much better service if my wife was here, but it's not hard to imagine what she would be feeling right now, more confused and troubled than I am, that's for sure, Speaking for myself, I have no doubt about it, what I've had to live through these past few weeks I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, Sit down, please, what would you like to drink, whiskey or brandy, Oh, I'm not a great drinker, but I think I'll have a brandy, just a drop, nothing more. António Claro brought bottles and glasses and poured the visitor a drink, then poured himself three fingers of whiskey without water and sat down on the other side of the small table separating them. I just can't get over it, he said, Oh, I've got past that stage, replied Tertuliano Máximo Afonso, now my only concern is what will happen next, How did you find out, As I told you when I phoned, I saw you in a film, Ah, yes, I remember now, the one where I played a hotel receptionist, Exactly, Then you saw me in other films, Exactly, And how did you track me down, since the name Daniel Santa-Clara isn't in the phone book, Before I could do that, I had to find a way of identifying you among all the other supporting actors who appear in the final credits with no mention of which character they played, Yes, of course, It took time, but I got there in the end, And why did you go to so much trouble, It seems to me that anyone in my position would have done the same, Yes, I suppose so, it's such an extraordinary situation, you couldn't really ignore it, Then I rang all the people listed in the phone book under the surname Santa-Clara, And they, of course, said they didn't know me, Yes, although one of them mentioned that this was the second time someone had rung him up asking for Daniel Santa-Clara, Someone else, before you, had asked for me, Yes, A female fan perhaps, No, it was a man, How strange, Stranger still, he said the man seemed to be trying to disguise his voice, How odd, why would he want to disguise his voice, No idea, The person you spoke to might have imagined it, Possibly, So how did you find me in the end, I wrote to the production company, Well, I'm surprised they gave you my address, They told me your real name too, Oh, I thought you only found that out when you spoke to my wife on that first occasion, No, the production company told me, As far as I know, at least as regards myself, that's the first time they've done anything like that, Well, I did stick in a paragraph about the importance of supporting actors, maybe that convinced them, That would be more likely to have the opposite effect, Anyway, I got your name, And here we are, Yes, here we are. António Claro drank some of his whiskey, Tertuliano Máximo Afonso took a sip of his brandy, then they looked at each other and immediately looked away. The light from the declining afternoon sun came in through the still-open door. Tertuliano Máximo Afonso pushed his glass to one side and spread his two hands out on the tabletop, his fingers splayed, Let's compare, he said. António Claro took another sip of his whiskey and placed his hands symmetrically opposite, pressing them down hard on the table to conceal the fact that they were shaking. Tertuliano Máximo Afonso seemed to be doing the same. Their hands were identical in every respect, every vein, every wrinkle, every hair, each and every finger, as if they had come out of a mold. The only difference was the gold wedding ring that Antonio Claro was wearing on his ring finger. Let's have a look at the moles on our right forearms, said Tertuliano Máximo Afonso. He got up, took off his jacket, which he deposited on the sofa, and rolled up his shirtsleeve to his elbow. Antonio Claro had got up too, but, first, he went and closed the front door and turned on the lights in the living room. When he draped his jacket over the back of a chair, there was a dull clunk. Is that your pistol, asked Tertuliano Máximo Afonso, Yes, Oh, I thought perhaps you'd decided not to bring it, It's not loaded, It's not loaded are just three words that say it's not loaded, Do you want me to show you, since you obviously don't believe me, Do what you like. António Claro put his hand into the inside pocket of the jacket and showed him the gun, Here it is. With deft, rapid movements, he removed the empty clip and pulled back the breech to reveal the equally empty chamber. Convinced, he asked, Convinced, And you don't suspect me of having another pistol in another pocket, That would be too many pistols, It would be the right number of pistols if I was planning to get rid of you, And why would the actor Daniel Santa-Clara want to get rid of the history teacher Tertuliano Máximo Afonso, You yourself put your finger on the problem when you wondered out loud what will happen next, Yes, but I was all set to leave right away, you were the one who asked me to stay, That's true, but your withdrawal wouldn't have solved anything, here or at home or teaching your classes or sleeping with your wife, Actually, I'm not married, You would still be my copy, my duplicate, a permanent image of me in a mirror in which I would not be looking at myself, and that would probably be unbearable, Two bullets would solve the problem before it even presented itself, They would, But the pistol isn't loaded, Exactly, And you haven't got another one in the other pocket, Precisely, Which brings us back to the beginning, to not knowing what will happen next. António Claro had now also rolled up his shirtsleeve, at the distance they were standing one from the other it was not easy to see the marks on their skin, but when they went over to a light, there they were, clear, precise, identical. This is like a science-fiction film written, directed, and acted by clones under orders from a mad philosopher, said António Claro, We still haven't looked at the scars on our knees, said Tertuliano Máximo Afonso, It hardly seems worth it, we don't need any further proof, hands, arms, faces, voices, everything about us is the same, we'll be taking all our clothes off next. He poured himself more whiskey, he looked at the liquid as if expecting some idea to emerge from it, then said, Why not, yes, why not, Because it would be grotesque, you yourself said that no further proof was needed, Why would it be grotesque, either from the waist up or from the waist up and down, we cinema actors, theater actors too, do little else but take our clothes off, But I'm not an actor, Don't take your clothes off if you don't want to, but I'm going to, it's no big deal, I'm used to it, and if our bodies are the same all over, you'll be seeing yourself even when you're looking at me, said Antonio Claro. He removed his shirt in one movement, he took off his shoes and then his trousers, followed by his underwear and, finally, his socks. He was naked from head to toe, and from head to toe he was Tertuliano Máximo Afonso, history teacher. Not wanting to be left behind, and feeling he had to accept the challenge, Tertuliano Máximo Afonso got up from the sofa and started getting undressed as well, more inhibited in his gestures out of modesty and lack of habit, but when he had done, his body slightly hunched in shyness, he had turned into Daniel Santa-Clara, cinema actor, with the one visible exception of his feet, for he had kept his socks on. They looked at each other in silence, conscious of the utter futility of any word they might utter, gripped by a confused sense of humiliation and loss that drove out any quite natural sense of amazement, as if the shocking sameness of their bodies had stolen something from the identity of each. The first to get dressed was Tertuliano Máximo Afonso. He stood there like someone who thinks it is time to leave, but Antonio Claro said, Would you mind sitting down, there's one last point I'd like to clarify with you, I won't take up much more of your time, What is it, asked Tertuliano Máximo Afonso as he reluctantly sat down again, I'm talking about the dates when we were born and the time, said An-tónio Claro, taking his wallet out of his jacket pocket and removing his identity card, then handing the card to Tertuliano Máximo Afonso across the table. The latter glanced at it quickly, then gave it back, saying, I was born on the same date, year, month and day, Would you be offended if I asked you to show me your identification, Not at all. Tertuliano Máximo Afonso's card passed into António Claro's hands, where it remained for ten seconds before being returned to its owner, who asked, Satisfied, Not yet, we still don't know what time each of us was born, my idea is that we should write down the time on a piece of paper, Why, So that the second person to speak, if we were to do it that way, wouldn't give in to the temptation to subtract fifteen minutes from the time the first one gave, And why wouldn't he add those fifteen minutes, Because any increase would be against the interests of the second of us to speak, But the piece of paper doesn't guarantee the seriousness of the procedure either, there's nothing to stop me from writing, and this is just an example, that I was born the very first minute of the day, even if that wasn't true, You would be lying, Yes, I would, but either of us, if he chooses, can lie even if we just say out loud the time we were born, You're right, it's a matter of integrity and good faith. Tertuliano Máximo Afonso was trembling inside, he had been sure from the very beginning that this moment would arrive, he had simply not imagined that he would be the one to invite the moment to reveal itself, to break the final seal, to reveal the one difference. He already knew what António Claro's answer would be, but he still asked, And what difference would it make telling each other what time we came into the world, Then we would know which of us, you or me, was the duplicate of the other, And what would happen to either of us if we knew that, I haven't the faintest idea, although my imagination, because we actors do have some imagination, tells me that, at the very least, it would be uncomfortable to live knowing that one was the duplicate of another person, And are you prepared, on your part, to run that risk, More than prepared, And no lying, That, I hope, won't be necessary, replied António Claro with a studied smile, an expressive composition of lips and teeth in which frankness and malice, innocence and impudence were united in identical but indiscernible doses. Then he added, Naturally, if you would prefer, we can draw lots to see who should speak first, That's not necessary, you yourself said it was a question of integrity and good faith, said Tertuliano Máximo Afonso, So what time were you born, At two o'clock in the afternoon. António Claro pulled a regretful face and said, I was born half an hour before or, to put it with absolute chronometrical exactitude, I stuck my head out at thirteen hundred hours twenty-nine minutes, sorry, old pal, but I was already here when you were born, so you are the duplicate. Tertuliano Máximo Afonso drank down the rest of his brandy, got up, and said, It was curiosity that brought me to this meeting, now that my curiosity is satisfied, I'll go, So soon, let's talk a little more, it's still early, in fact, if you haven't anything else to do, we could have supper together, there's a good restaurant near here, you could wear your beard, so there wouldn't be any danger, Thanks for the invitation, but I'll have to say no, we probably wouldn't have much to say to each other, since you are not, I would think, very interested in history, and I've been cured of cinema for the foreseeable future, You're upset because you weren't the first to be born, because I'm the original and you're the duplicate, Upset isn't quite the right word, don't ask me why, but I would simply have preferred that it hadn't happened like this, anyway, I didn't lose out entirely, I still have one small compensation, What compensation is that, The fac