"Give me a name for what Spemann had done. Class? Anyone?"
No volunteers.
"It comes from a Greek word, and the word in Greek means 'twig.'"
A girl in the front raised her hand and said tentatively, "What he did was make a clone."
"Yes," exclaimed Margarite. "He made a clone. It's crude, it's primitive, you have to use a helluva lot of baby hairs to do it, but he made a clone. He forced a salamander embryo to divest a piece of itself that then turned into an exact replica."
Jude and Skyler exchanged looks. The sound of the word "clone" was still jarring.
"Spemann, incidentally, had what he called a 'fantastical' daydream sixty years ago. What if you were able to take an egg and remove the nucleus from it? And what if you were able to take the nucleus out of another cell — one that was already well developed, that was truly differentiated — and insert it into the egg? What would happen? Would it grow? Would the egg proceed as if everything was normal, even though it was beginning life with an old nucleus that had been around the block a few times?"
"Well, in just another generation, the 'fantastical' was achieved. 'Nuclear transplantation' is its name, and it was done in the early 1950s by Robert Briggs and Thomas King at the Institute for Cancer Research in Philadelphia."
Margarite ran through a litany of scientists who had made advances in the field.
"Then, finally, of course, we come to five p.m., July 5, 1996. The world-famous Dolly is born. Ian Wilmut and Keith Campbell of the Roslin Institute in Edinburgh, Scotland, took a donor cell from the mammary gland of a six-year-old ewe and put it into an enucleated unfertilized egg. The key was sending the cell into a quiescent state, which Campbell did by starving it. That made it more adaptive to its new environment. Dolly will go down in history as the first mammal to be cloned from an adult cell.
"The message in all of this," concluded Margarite, looking at his watch, "is never say never. In science, if something can be done, sooner or later it will be done. And that's what I answer when people ask me: 'Will we ever clone humans beings?' I answer: 'If it can be done, it will be done.'
"As Robert J. Oppenheimer said before making the atom bomb: 'When you see something that is technically sweet, you go ahead and do it.'
"So you're convinced that's it — you and I are clones," said Skyler, an undercurrent of aggression to his voice.
The three were sitting at a bar called the Subway Inn on Sixtieth Street. They had a booth, Tizzie and Skyler on one side, Jude on the other. It was dimly lighted, and the jukebox was playing an old Dave Brubeck piece, "Take Five." Tizzie was drinking bourbon. Jude was drinking a Beck's. Skyler had tasted Jude's and ordered the same.
"I'm not saying I know it for a fact," said Jude. "I admit it sounds far-out."
"Far-out?"
"Unusual," explained Tizzie. "Unlikely."
"All I'm saying is that it's the only explanation that makes sense and that accounts for everything. How else can you explain that you and I are so much alike — we look alike and we've got the same DNA, for Christ's sake — and yet we're not the same age."
"Maybe we are the same age. Maybe that guy — what's his name…?"
"McNichol."
"McNichol. Maybe he messed up that test."
"Maybe, but that's not all," said Jude.
"What else?"
Jude took a long sip of beer before he went on.
"The physical exam you took. I called today and got the results."
"And…?"
"And I spoke to my regular doctor, who was back. He was beside himself, totally confused — he thought there must have been some kind of mistake."
"Why?" asked Tizzie.
"First of all, he said" — Jude looked at Skyler—"you'll like this — he said I was in great shape physically, that I hadn't been this good in years. Lean and mean, body of a younger man, and all that. I pass the compliment on to you, since it's rightfully yours."
Skyler's mouth hinted at a smile.
"But he was thrown by my blood. He said that immunizing cells that I had built up from hepatitis, which I had three years ago, had totally disappeared. He found this strange. In fact, he said he first thought that there had been a mix-up of blood samples, but gave up on that because the blood matched in every other way. He was stumped."
"Yeah, well, we know the reason for that — I never had hepatitis. I don't think anyone on our island ever had it. So what?"
"The match of the blood in every other respect was strong enough to override his doubts. So there's one more indication that our makeup is the same, that our genes are the same."
"Which would happen if we were twins."
"Yes, but he also found something indicating an age difference. He spotted it on my X ray—"
"My X ray."
"Yes, your X ray, which he compared to my X ray from a previous visit. He said there was actually a reversal in bone density, that the natural thinning had stopped and reversed itself so that the bones were slightly thicker. As they would have been if I were five or six years younger than I am. He was so surprised, he called in a radiologist, who confirmed the finding. No wonder he's confused. He's beginning to think I'm one for the record books."
Skyler took the information in silence and finished his beer. He looked at Jude.
"You take my hair and have it tested behind my back. You send me to your own doctor. What other little tests do you have planned? What other surprises do you have up your sleeve?"
He stood up and went to the bar to get another beer.
"He's right, you know," said Tizzie. "He has every reason to be upset. He's probably feeling like a guinea pig. This can't be easy for him."
"It's not easy for me, either," complained Jude. "A week ago, I thought I was a normal person like anyone else on this planet. Now I find I'm some sort of freak."
"You're not the one who feels like a freak. He does."
Skyler returned and started talking even before he sat down.
"Ok, let's say it's all true. Why would anyone do this? Why would anyone make clones?"
"I don't know. But I do know that we had strange upbringings, you and I. Both of us. Me, raised up in some kind of group in Arizona, losing both my parents before I knew it. You, there on that crazy island where your every thought and practically your every movement was controlled. Neither of us knows our parents. We look alike. We act alike. But I'm older than you. For God's sake, you come up with an explanation!"
"I can't," said Skyler quietly. "And if it was done the way you say, I hate to think about why. I hate to think of the possibilities."
Tizzie's face drained of color.
"I think you know why," replied Skyler. "Let's not talk about the possibilities right now."
"Okay. I'll go along with that."
"For a while, at least."
Tizzie handed her empty glass to Jude.
"How about another drink?" she said.
"Sure."
When Jude left, Tizzie put her hand on Skyler's arm and smiled at him. He couldn't help himself — he lifted his hand and placed it on top of hers. He was afraid he was almost trembling.
"I know it's not easy," she said.
He didn't trust himself to say anything but looked at her full in the face. His stare was intense.
When Jude returned, they sat in silence for a while. Finally, Skyler spoke up.
"Let me ask you something," he said to Jude. "In your mind, am I your clone or are you my clone?"
"You're my clone."
"How so?"
"Because I'm older."
"I see."
"You don't agree?"
"Let's just say that's not the way I see it."
"How do you see it?"
"We both came from the same egg. You just got to use it first."