Rod, Rex and Rhoda

by Bob Brill

What Will They Think of Next?

I sit with Rex in my lap while Rhoda describes her latest discoveries. I am truly listening and I understand everything she says. Must be the proximity of Rex.

“I’ve done some research on transporter technology,” she says. “The pre-jump dissociated image of the traveler is stored in a backup buffer until safe arrival, at which time the buffer is emptied. In the extremely rare case of a screwed-up transmission, the pre-jump image is transported again until a successful jump is achieved. All such garbled transmissions are erased.”

“Sounds perfectly reasonable,” I say, enjoying my new found mental clarity. I stroke Rex’s smooth fur while he fervently licks my hand. What comfort we get from each other.

“In your case, if my guess is correct, the tampering caused the safe-arrival signal to be transmitted to the source transporter, so the pre-jump image was erased and you, the screwed-up arrival, were reconstituted and turned loose in the world.”

I feel fully restored, and what’s more, I can identify a hodgepodge of distinct smells. Behind the intoxicating scent of female pheromones flooding me from every corner of the apartment, I detect last night’s dinner dishes out in the kitchen, and they’ve already been washed, the rotting potpourri of the garbage pail, as well as the dry metallic aroma of the TV, and faint whiffs of ancient history written into the drapes. Oh, the world of dogs is not the world that humans know, but it’s a world I’m now privileged and somewhat distressed to share. I try to wag my tail, but since Rex has the tail, I can’t manage it.

All the while I’m reading the world through my nose, I process Rhoda’s information and arrive at an insight. “Rhoda,” I say, “if that signal can be modified so that the source transporter receives the try-again signal and the destination transporter receives the all-OK signal, then two transporters can effectively operate as a cloning machine.”

“That’s right, Rod. You are not the first to realize this. Safeguards have been built into transporters to prevent that from happening. Of course, such safeguards can be defeated. Transporters can be built without safeguards. Although human cloning is illegal, human clones do exist. So do human hybrids. You are not the only one. My sources tell me that the military is secretly attempting to produce a hybrid-clone army of super warriors.”

“What an appalling idea. I hope you are not thinking of writing an exposé of the military. You already have more than you can handle trying to take on Rumex.”

“But don’t you know that Rumex Pharmaceutical is only one division of Rumex Enterprises? They are deeply involved in military research. But to ease your mind, I’ll tell you that for now I’m content to focus on the Rumex clinical trials.”

Rex looks up at me. He wants me to take a stand.

“Well I’m not interested in the Rumex clinical trials. I’m perfectly satisfied with conducting medical tests where the results will be interpreted on scientific grounds, untainted by the efforts of people with personal or corporate agendas. Whatever the results, you are going to spin them in a way that promotes your exposé of Rumex. Rumex will use the same results to refute your position. It’s a travesty. I don’t want any part of it.”

“Very high-minded, Mr. Scientist. But don’t you have your own personal agendas in your work? Your ambitions? Your desire for recognition, for applause, for awards? How did you come to choose metafallazine as your research area?”

“It was an interesting and somewhat challenging problem, but I’ll admit I do like to be appreciated.”

“Come here. I want to give you a kiss.”

This sudden unexpected shift sends my neurotransmitters boiling into action, speeding alert signals throughout my body. The imperative come here should be a warning, but all I hear is kiss. I leap to my feet, dumping Rex off my lap. I obey her summons and go to her with skin tingling. She rises to meet me and we go into a clinch.

The kiss is a wowser and I press for more, but she unwinds from the embrace and pushes me gently back with both hands. “That’ll do for now,” she says, implying more treats to come. But I want my treat now and not just a kiss. I reach out to pull her back to me. She pushes harder and retreats. I pursue, but the moment is lost. Rex barks. I hear you, buddy. This isn’t going to work. I back off and go sit in my chair. Rex jumps in my lap. Good dog.

She’s manipulating me, the bitch, trying to make me do the Rumex thing by offering previews of future pleasures, which may come to pass. Or not. I understand this, but can I resist this dubious hint of a whiff of a promise? She knows I’m hooked on her.

Proceed to Chapter 5...