A Doppelganger

Layla 'Luna' Majnun steels herself, a slow exhale, before dialling: 'Hi. Is this Christian Holiday?'

A moment before he recognises her voice: 'Luna. How'd you get this number?'

'Amy.'
(Amy in flashback here: 'You want his number? What? Why? Whyyyyy? What?')

'Amy. AB positive.' Christian, thinking. 'I just decided on dinner.'

'That's.' That's definitely weird. 'Good. Soooo, I have problem that you might be able to help with.'

'Mhm.'

'I married in June.' Hush hush now. 'I love him but he's still in Pakistan and there's this guy at work.'

In the packing room, he had turned and caught her watching him. He gave a private, confident smile.

Christian: 'Feels. Loin feels. I can't relate.'

'Exactly!' Relieved. Wait, relieved? 'How do you do it?'

Duh: 'I'm a mechanical vampire.' He realises that this will not help. 'I have an idea.'

Christian rents a motel room, neutral territory, where Luna meets him two days later. Clean, unfussy, affordable. Not far from work. On my way home. On Easy's way home. A nursing student, Luna recognises equipment for both blood donation and blood transfusion. Christian slips a skillful needle into Luna's left median cubital vein and blood drains into a litre bag at her feet whilst she sits on the bed. Luna groks that this donation is why Christian agreed to help.

'Aaaah... you know I consummated my marriage?'

So no hymen to save.

Christian spit-takes a shave-and-a-haircut: 'Goddamn. There goes eighty percent.' Frowning a moment. 'Fuck it, I maintain my contracts.'

With the blood bag full, Christian inserts a needle into the right median cubital vein to replace the litre with a full bag hanging from a stand: 'Here's one I prepared earlier.'

Luna: 'Blood replacement?'

'The donor is going through an on-again-off-again and wants to finally rip that band-aid off. You might relate. I can't. Anyway, he's undergoing some temporary chemical castration. That chemical is in his blood and is now in yours.'

'Does that actually work?'

It does not.

The next day at uni, students pair off for a practical lesson in plasmapheresis. Complication: the plasmapheresis machine is property of the university and university is government and government is surveillance, so that whilst the machine removes the plasma from the rest of the blood's components, as it says on the label, it also quietly takes note of Luna's blood or, rather, the blood of the unknown donor, which matches a blood stain left at a violently botched bank heist. Police arrive:

'Where were you on the 12th of October, 1985?'

'I'm 23.'

The police are pretty common sense and have better things to do. The Department of Very Bad Idea is and does not. The DVBI begins surveillance of Luna but, the epitome of government overreach and bloat, is not very good. Luna is perpetually tailgated by a plumber's van with satellite dish on the roof. Her internet is cut when someone ramrods a garden tap into her landline. At a casual lunch with friends, Luna had stood to get napkins and three suited men, scattered about the restaurant, had scrambled out of seats to hurriedly follow and thereby tipped tables, spilt food, which just made things awkward.

After a week of this and shit, he looks sharp clean shaven, Luna returns home and collapses on her bed. A cat walks up to her head and meows. Neither she nor her family has a cat. Luna does not stir. Christian steps out from her wardrobe.

Startled: 'Fuck's sake.' Hissing quietly now. 'How long have you been there?'

'Mechanical vampire. Sun bad. Since this morning.'

She's too tired for this: 'Well, shit. Why?'

Shrugging: 'You seem to be having problems. And I like you. You've got nocturnal thing going on.'

'No. No more help. Not from you.'

'Fair enough.' Christian gives Luna elevator eyes and she's noticed guys checking her out, him, but none have looked at her body this asexually, objectively. 'Yeah. You're woman. You'll do.'

Christian unfurls a folded sheet of paper from around a cigarette. He unfolds the paper to A4 size with writing materialising, as if from invisible ink to black, on both sides. Reading this, Christian lights the cigarette. Luna shoos him to the window and opens it, smells something unusual in the smoke - she stopped hanging with the Indian clique at work because the girls are always joking that I should get a casual thing going on, and with the smokers, and he's there...

'What is that?'

'Catnip and tobacco.'

She takes the piece of paper from Christian and a quick scan suggests it is a catalogue for products she does not recognise: 'And this?'

Tom emerges from the wardrobe: 'That is the latest Catnip Page.'

Luna clenches a fist: 'And at the end? What currency is this?'

Christian coughs a drag out the window: 'Catscript. Kind of a cryptocurrency. In fact, I don't think anyone actually carries it.'

Tom gives Luna elevator eyes, definitely sexually this time, objectifying instead of objectively: 'Not even me.'

Luna: 'I'm married.'

Tom: 'You'd be surprised. Sometimes helps the marriage. Dig D. H. Lawrence.'

Good to know.

A womaniser experienced enough to recognise lack of interest, Tom moves on: 'So, you want to buy?'

Christian looks for somewhere to butt out: 'Government surveillance. I was thinking a Doppelganger?'

Tom: 'Government. Ewww.'

Luna: 'Doppleganger?

Tom te-he-hes: 'Cheaper than privacy, I suppose.' Addressing Luna now. 'So, while back, the U.S. government, and Australia's by way of Pine Gap, experimented with a system of poulation control which, for reasons which I assume is government incompetence, produced underground labyrinths of semi-intelligent copies of everyone. I know people who can get me down there and, just once, I can bring one of these doppelgangers to the surface. They would be contracted to perform the routine of the doppelgangee for two years, at least.'

Christian: 'Sounds like indentured servitude.'

'I didn't put them there and this deal offers them a substantial improvement in quality of life.' Tom smiles dirty at Luna again. 'Consenting adults.'

Christian: 'Costs ₵$1500. That's more virgin blood than-' rolling eyes towards Luna '-even I can get my needles into.'

Tom smiles slightly manic: 'Maybe throw in something from our mutual friend?'

Christian raises left eyebrow: 'Ezekiel's Crook?'

Oh shit. Luna forces a straight face: 'What's this?'

Tom, hands clasped behind buttocks: 'Ezekiel Bones, once a slacker, then something of a semi-subsistence gardener, now a part-time esotericist showing promise. Fig trees had overgrown on his property. Having pruned the branches, he noticed a stick just short of two metres, with the last 29 centimetres bent inward at a clean 45 degree angle. He kept this stick - good choice, because this makeshift shepherd's crook is perfect for herding chickens and, this is why it has retail value, conveys something of an animal friend perk.'

Ohhh shiiit. How small is this city?

Christian: 'Yeah, OK. I've got some blood but -' Turning to Luna. '- this isn't my problem. I might need help.'

Ohhh fuuuck. Luna, puckered: 'OK.'

Tom walks back into the wardrobe and, well, seems to disappear. Christian helps Luna climb out the window. Huh, sneaking around is easy. Her car's rear is splattered with bird shit. In the passenger seat, Christian says:

'He's about twenty minutes away.'

Keeps getting easier. They zigzag through suburbia then breach bushland. There is a touch, in the car's high beams, of the lush, wild, cover, native. They decide on a long right-then-left that lands them a park fifty-or-so metres down the street from Ezekiel's back fence. The back gate is unlocked but is wedged shut after summer heat has expanded metal and shifted earth. Christian gives Luna a boost, her right foot in his two hands - she vaults lithe over the fence and lands with poise between a prickly bush and a shed, scurries into shadow with muffled giggles. Huh, sneaking around is fun.

The light is coming from a pool house on the tier below them. Christian scrambles over the fence and leads Luna down a narrow slate staircase. They see Ezekiel 'Easy' Bones through the pool house's glass wall. His back is to them, resting his tasty buns on a couch's armrest, which lifts them a little and makes them tauter, as he necks a pale ale. Four empties sit on the bench top. A half page of runes have been drunkenly scrawled in a spiral notebook. A metre circle pulses dull red at the pool house's other end. A short red-eyed humanoid holds a PS4 controller, dead eyed. The television displays a paused video game.

Christian: 'So what's your problem?'

Easy keeps his back to them: 'Christian. To what do I owe this pleasant intrusion? No matter, I'm bored. The usual kicks don't work. I need some other form of warmth.'

Christian: 'Don't be weird.'

Easy turns and sees Luna. A loose smile sharpens and pupils dilate: 'Luna? No shit, how do you two know each other?'

I could fuck him right now. I could pay him in fucking. No no no no let's just get the shit and get out.

Luna: 'Mutual acquaintances.'

Christian: 'Wait. How do you two know?'

Easy: 'Work.'

'Huuuh.' Christian thinks a moment. Then he realises. 'Oh. Oh ho ho. Haa. Ha ha ha haaa!'

Luna feels onset of blushing: 'Hi there, Easy. Could we have your Crook? Quickly. Please.'

'Ahhhahahahaha. Hoooly shit. Ah ha ha ha ha.'

Easy frowns, confused, at Christian: 'Sure thing Luna.'

'Ha ha haaa ha.'

So Easy gives Luna his fig-stick. She begins kicking Christian in the stomach, laughter having toppled him to the floor, until he returns to her car. He continues to giggle on the drive back:

'Him? Hiiiiim? What? Why? Why what?'

Two days later, they summon Tom again and purchase the Doppelganger which, as advertised, is physically identical to Luna and has already started to imitate her facial expressions. Tom and Christian leave Luna ('You wanna go smoke some El Dorado Green?') contemplating this identical of herself, chin in hand and two fingers over her mouth. The contract with this Doppelganger offers two years of perfect cover for an affair. Luna waves this off, telling herself that she doesn't want or need to have an affair. But, once this contract is done and the Doppelganger is free to do as they please, then there is nothing stopping the Doppelganger from hooking up with, well, Easy. Something warm churns in her lower stomach.
And now she has a cat.