Richard Cowper - Clone

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ONE

At 12.30 hours on September 3rd, 2072, Alvin had an eidetic hallucination. Since it was the first he had

experienced the ef-fect upon him was wholly unprecedented. He sat down on the stump of the Forsythe

spruce he had just felled, clasped his hands across his chest and began to shiver uncontrollably.

Observing the lad's strange behaviour, his companion Nor-bert, a thirty-two-year-old Antaen-hybrid

chimpanzee, switched off his laser trimmer and came over to see what was the matter. In the normal way

Norbert was an ape of few words but he was extremely fond of Alvin and felt protective towards him.

He rested his left hand on Alvin's right shoulder and gripped him reassuringly with his prosthetic thumb.

'You feeling all right, son?' he enquired.

By this time the severest of Alvin's tremors had abated a little. He swallowed manfully and blinked his

eyes. 'I saw . . .” he began, and then shook his head.

Norbert peered round at the muddy ground all ribbed and churned with the imprint of their plastic boot

soles. Alvin's saw was lying where he had dropped it. It had switched itself off. 'What about the saw?' he

said.

Again Alvin shook his head. Unclasping one arm from his rib cage he raised his hand and appeared to

grope, somewhat hesitantly, at the empty air about eighteen inches in front of his nose. 'I saw this girl,' he

said slowly, 'as real as you are, Nor-bert. I swear I did.'

Norbert frowned. Pushing back his helmet he scratched his deeply furrowed brow. "'Girl"?' he repeated

dubiously. 'What girl, son?'

'She had green eyes,' murmured Alvin dreamily, 'and dark brown hair.' He sighed. 'Oh she was as pretty

asrnyosoton aquaticum, Norbert. Even prettier.'

The chimp realized that it was his duty to call up Control and report the matter, but something in Alvin's

rapt expression restrained him. He consulted the timeteller strapped to his left wrist and said: 'We'll take

our break now. You wait here and I'll go and fetch our packs from the buggy.'

He gave Alvin's shoulder a comforting squeeze, then knuckled his way crabwise across the slope and

vanished among the trees by the water's edge.

All alone Alvin sat gazing out unseeing across the reservoir with an expression of near-idiotic bliss on his

round, guileless face. Two large, happy tears gathered along his lower eyelids, brimmed over, and

trickled unheeded down his chin.

Norbert returned five minutes later. He handed Alvin his lunch pack and sat down 'beside him on the

trunk of the felled tree. 'I've been thinking,' he said. 'Maybe it was Doctor Somervell.'

'No, Norbert,' said Alvin firmly, 'I'm sure it wasn't anyone I've ever seen here.'

The chimp selected a sandwich from his own pack, peeled back a corner to expose the peanut butter

filling, smacked his lips appreciatively and then took a healthy bite.

'Besides,' added Alvin reflectively, 'Doctor Somervell isn't pretty.'

'I wouldn't know,' said Norbert. 'She pinks up pretty good.'

'This girl,' said Alvin, ignoring the observation, 'had green eyes. Doctor Somervell has brown eyes.'

'Maybe she changed 'em,' shrugged Norbert, unscrewing the cap of his boiler flask and raising it to his

lips.

'Itwasn't Doctor Somervell,' insisted Alvin with some heat. 'After all, Norbert, I ought to know! I saw

her!'

'No offence meant,' said Norbert wiping his lips with the back of his hand. 'Eat up, son.'

Alvin undid his pack, extracted an apple and took a moody bite out of it. For a minute or two he

chewed away in thought-ful silence, then, swivelling round on his tree stump till he was facing the chimp

he said: 'It could be from Before, couldn't it Norbert?'

"'Before"?' echoed the chimp. 'Before what?'

'Before I was here.'

'There's no such thing,' said Norbert uneasily. 'You know that, Alvin. Hey, if you don't want that core,

I'll have it.'

Alvin passed across the apple core and helped himself to a sandwich. He knew Norbert was speaking

the truth simply be-cause his earliest memory was of waking up in the Station's sick bay and seeing

Doctor Somervell and Doctor Pfizier bending over him. That was when Doctor Pfizier had given him his

name -'Alvin'. Later, of course, he had acquired a whole host of other memories, but that was the first

and it had always been Alvin's favourite. He found it quite impossible to express adequately either the

gratitude he felt towards the good, grey-haired old Hydrologist who had introduced him to his identity, or

the sense of almost dog-like devotion with which he recalled those early talks the two of them had had.

'Now you be good, Alvin,' the gentle old scientist had enjoined him, 'and let the others be the smart

cookies.' How often Alvin's eyes had misted over as he recollected the fervent tremor in his own voice as

he had replied: 'Oh, I will, sir! I will!' 'Blessed are the pure in heart, Alvin. Don't you ever forget that, my

boy.' 'I won't, sir! Believe me!' 'Women are a snare and a delusion, Alvin.' 'Even Doctor Somervell, sir?'

'Mo's the worst of the lot, but don't say I told you.' The old man's wisdom had flowed like a pellucid,

inex-haustible fountain and young Alvin had drunk deep.

If he had so far been unable to test the validity of many of the good doctor's precepts it was for the

simple reason that adequate opportunity had never presented itself. Since the complement of the Aldbury

Hydrological Station was restricted to Alvin, the two scientists and thirty-two prosthetised apes, the

boy's temptations were minimal, and until the incident al-ready described, he had not even felt anything

that could be classed as curiosity about his origins.

His cognizant life having been passed mainly in the company of the chimps, whom he had found to be in

all significant re-spects immeasurably his superiors, Alvin felt none of the anti--anthropoid resentment that

was still to be met in other less enlightened areas of the world. For their part, once the problem of his

union membership had been sorted out, the apes ac-cepted him in a brotherly way and had been happy

to relieve him of the contents of his slender wage packet whenever he sat in on one of their Saturday

poker schools. Eventually Norbert had felt constrained to call a branch meeting-from which Alvin had

been tactfully excluded-and had told his fellow apes that it was a shame to take advantage of such a nice

guy. Since then Alvin's regular losses at the card table had diminished remark-ably and, once or twice,

much to his amazement and delight he had even won a small pot.

The Station on which Alvin worked was part of the vast com-plex of artificial freshwater lakes that had

been created towards the end of the 2oth Century to supply the ever-increasing de-mands of the London

Conurbation. Some hundreds of square miles of rich agricultural land had been inundated and more

would undoubtedly have suffered the same fate had not a series of increasingly violent earthquakes finally

persuaded the gov-ernment of the day that the money spent on re-building devastated towns might be

more advantageously invested in de-salination plants.

The Aldbury Station was responsible for Lake Tring and Lake Caddesden together with that area of the

Chilterns which con-stituted their catchment area. Its principal duties were to monitor erosion, nutrient

salt balance and biological productiv-ity. Among its peripheral concerns were re-afforestation, tree

culling, maintenance of fish stocks, hire of pleasure craft and management of the two refreshment centres.

These tasks were left entirely in the hands of the apes who had also, on their own initiative, organized a

round-the-clock, summer rescue service.

It was Alvin's most dearly cherished ambition to become a helmsman of one of the two Skeeto rescue

boats. In his day-dreams he sped up and down the ten-mile stretch of Lake Tring, his tangerine-tinted

Zyoprene wetsuit glittering like a goldfish as he swooped to rescue beautiful maidens from watery graves.

Unfortunately an inherent inability to distinguish be-tween port and starboard at moments of stress

seemed likely to preclude him from ever realizing his ambition. Bosun, the grizzled old ape who was in

charge of the rescue service, had given strict orders that Alvin was never to be allowed near the Skeetos

unless he was accompanied by a fully qualified chimp.

Alvin did not allow himself to become despondent. By dint of assiduous coaching from Norbert he could

now average five correct port and starboard calls out of every ten, which, as he was quick to point out,

was already half way there. Meanwhile he occupied his weekends in assisting the female chimps to run

the refreshment centres or, from time to time, in puttering round the lakes in the Station's Platypus with

Norbert to cheek on anglers' licences.

At the time of his eidetic hallucination Alvin had been at the Aldbury Station for three years and four

months. Biologically speaking he was then exactly eighteen years and two months old. Five foot five

inches tall, with straw coloured hair, protuberant, pale blue eyes and remarkable ears that stuck out like

pink handles almost at right angles from the sides of his round head, he was not perhaps the most

handsome of youths, but he possessed something far rarer than mere masculine good looks, namely a

truly beautiful character. There was something so undeniably saintly about Alvin that even the apes were

moved to wonder. He appeared to live only to please others and they had soon wearied of sending him

off to fetch them left handed lasers and cans of spotted paint because he was so obviously upset at being

unable to gratify their wishes. He would return forlorn, his periwinkle blue eyes large with unshed tears

and confess his failure in such abject tones that their laughter died on their lips and they patted him on the

shoulder and told him not to take it to heart. Since that was so obviously just where Alvindid take it and

since the apes, by and large, were a kindly lot, the game soon lost its appeal, and many of them agreed in

private with Norbert who gave it as his opinion that God had sent Alvin to them to make them all better

apes and to awaken the essential apeishness which slumbered within them.

From this it will be immediately evident that Norbert him-self was no run-of-the-lab anthropoid but as

much a unique individual in his own way as Alvin was in his. Early in ife Nor-bert had 'caught religion' and

though the initial fever had burnt itself out he had never been the same since. He now be-lieved that

everything had been put on earth for some divinely inscrutable purpose and that to those who kept an

open mind and gave due reflection this purpose would one day be made apparent. He had been quick to

perceive how well Alvin fitted in to this theosophical system and had gone out of his way to assist the

youth towards the realization of his true potential. The happiest moment of Norbert's life so far had been

when Alvin had turned to him one day and said: 'Norbert, with you and Doctor Pfizier around I know I'll

never need to worry.' At that instant Norbert had his Pisgah revelation. His life's purpose was to shelter

Alvin from the rough buffeting of a hostile world until one day, hand in hand and side by side, they would

enter the Promised Land.

Alvin's vision of the girl with green eyes had disturbed Nor-bert more deeply than he cared to admit to

the lad. Later that afternoon, when they had returned to the station, lie made a point of seeking out

Doctor Somervell and laying the problem before her. He felt obscurely that this was a case for a

woman's intuition and he was greatly relieved when she said: 'I'm glad you've told me this, Norbert. It's

high time young Alvin was put straight on a thing or two. Send him along to see me after sup-per. Oh,

and tell him to have a shower first.'

Confident that he had acted in Alvin's best interests Norbert bowed and left the room.

TWO

At 42 Maureen Somervell possessed the sort of junoesque phy-sique which, a hundred years before,

might have led to her being referred to in awed tones as 'all woman'. By profession she was an analytical

chemist and, as such, in charge of the water analy-sis at Aldbury. Although the daily sampling of run-off

and its subsequent assessment was an automatic process in the control of a computer, 'Mo' Somervell

was renowned for what she her-self liked to call 'getting back to basics'. In the summer months she could

frequently be observed, clad in a scarlet bathing suit, her splendid hams sheathed in a pair of transparent

waders, dipping around with a sampling funnel on the marshy edges of Lakes Tring and Gaddesden.

Bent low over her work she presented an impressive expanse of bare pink buttock to the world at large

and to the male apes in particular. At such moments atavistic impulse tended to re--emerge from the

depths of the anthropoid hypothalamus, el-bow its way through the Zobian-cultured cortical tissue, and

flaunt itself vividly in the anthropoid anatomy, while across the simian faces conflicting emotions of

wonder, doubt and despair flitted like shadows.

In their private discussions the younger apes maintained that she must be doing it on purpose, but most

of the older ones held that it was just a happy accident. It only remains to be said that none of the chimps

ever overstepped the bounds of propriety and that Doctor Somervell was never short of volunteers to

help carry her equipment when she set out on one of her summer forays.

Her own attitude towards the apes resembled that of a kindly but authoritarian primary school teacher

towards her pupils. Although the average anthropoid I.Q. was in the upper 120's she could never quite

bring herself to believe it. 'I like to think of them as children-happy children,' she once confessed to a

vis-itor. 'I daresay that's a pretty old-fashioned approach but it seems to work very well in practice.`

Her relationship with Dimitri Pfizier was a different matter. She herself had once described it as 'like the

waters of Lake Tring-basically stable but liable to seasonal variations'. The stable elements were her

admiration for Dimitri's professional expertise, a thwarted maternal instinct and pure habit; the vari-ables

her need for something, more sexually satisfying than her temperamental, ten-year-old, Mark 3 nugatory

paramour, and her subconscious outrage at Dimitri's recently expressed preference for the

companionship of Zinnia, a six-year-old chimp with an affected lisp and a penchant for embroidery.

A recent attempt to programme her paramour with a retro-spective approximation of Dimitri's physical

co-ordinates had been grievously frustrated by the temperature moderator going on the blink at the

critical moment and drastically reducing the degree of tumescence. By the time the anthropoid service

engineer had diagnosed the fault and put it right she had tem-porarily lost interest in subrogation. Since

then she had been looking around for some direct method of re-kindling Dimitri's waning fire. Norbert's

news seemed to offer just the opportunity she had been waiting for.

When Alvin, fresh from his shower and wearing his best zip suit, knocked on her door and obeyed her

summons to come in, he was slightly taken aback to find that she was not wearing her customary white

overalls but a sort of semi-transparent, fluffy, pink and white knee-length garment that made her look as

though she was swaddled in candy-floss. Her feet were thrust into a pair of pink, sequin-dusted

powder-puff slippers. These, as far as Alvin could tell, were all she was wearing.

He closed the door carefully behind him. 'Norbert told me you wished to see me, Doctor Somervell.'

She smiled at him and patted the pneumatic couch. 'That's right, Alvin. Come over here and sit beside

me.'

Alvin moved forward obediently and took his place at her side.

'My, you smell good!' she observed, leaning over him, flexing her nostrils and inhaling deeply.

Alvin blinked. 'Do I, Doctor Somervell? I'm glad you like it.'

'I certainly do, Alvin. But let's drop the "Doctor Somervell", shall we? You know my name's "Maureen",

don't you?'

'Yes, Doctor Somervell.'

Doctor Somervell chuckled tolerantly. 'Well, perhaps one thing at a time, eh? Now what's this old

Norbert's been telling me about you and some girl or other?'

'Oh, yes, Doctor Somervell!' Alvin's moon face became lumi-nous with reminiscence.

'Well, go on.'

Alvin clasped his hands in his lap and sighed. 'She had green eyes, Doctor Somervell-the colour of

duck-weed-and peat brown hair-sort of short. She was looking down at me . . . andsmiling. . . .' His

voice trailed away and his own lips beamed in reverie. He looked supremely idiotic and, at the same

time, rather touching.

'Did she say anything to you?'

'Oh no, Doctor Somervell. She didn't need to.'

Doctor Somervell chewed her lower lip reflectively. 'Where-abouts was she?'

Alvin frowned. 'She didn't seem to be anywhere in particular. I mean not here or in the lake or anything.

But I think she was sort of bending over me . . . or something. . . .'

'Not in bed?'

'No. I would have remembered that.'

'Who do you think she was, Alvin?'

Alvin looked uncomfortable. 'I-I don't know, Doctor Somervell.'

'Norbert said you'd suggested she might be from Before.'

Alvin coloured like a peony and began to scratch his head violently-a sure sign with him that he was

being assailed by feelings of guilt. 'Oh, did I? I . . . I. . .'

'You know that's quite impossible, don't you, Alvin?'

Alvin nodded miserably.

,Then why did you say it?'

'Because I'm sinful?' he suggested feebly, but with a note of hopeful pleading.

'Not sinful, Alvin.Weak. Now tell me the truth. You made it all up, didn't you?'

'Did I, Doctor Somervell?'

'Of course you did. It's an obvious, immature, sexual fantasy.' 'Oh,' said Alvin dismally.

'You know whatthat is, don't you, Alvin?'

Alvin shook his head.

'Oh, come now, Alvin. Don't tell me you've never thought about girls.'

Alvin blushed again.

Doctor Somervell slid herself along the couch till she ap-peared about to overwhelm him like some vast

pink blanc-mange. With one hand she turned his face towards hers and gazed speculatively into his eyes.

'You can tellme, Alvin,' she murmured, and the fingers of her other hand seemed to stumble by happy

accident on the thigh-tab of his zip.

Alvin swallowed manfully. 'Girls?' he gurgled.

'Yes,girls, Alvin,' she throbbed.'Women, Alvin. Us!'

Her face loomed up over his so that he seemed to be peering straight up her flared nostrils. Their

proximity induced in him a curious sensation of helplessness. He opened his mouth to make some

pertinent observation but, before the words could materialize, her lips had descended upon his and

something, which for a wild moment he supposed to be her thumb, was frisking around inside his mouth

like a chunk of India-rubber. Then a lot of rather unlikely things seemed to happen all at once. By the

time he regained possession of his senses it was to find himself lying on his back on the couch

with-incredibly! -Doctor Somervell squatting on top of him. What was going on beneath the voluminous

folds of her pink negligee he could only guess at, but he was aware of a sense of insufferable, anguished

yearning, of elation and despair and, all too soon, of rapidly impending crisis. 'Oh, Doctor Somervell!' he

gasped. 'Oh . . . Doctor . . . S-o-m-e-r-v-e-l-ll!!' At which moment the door opened and in strolled

Doctor Pfizier.

Instead of turning on his heel and retreating he nodded to them, sauntered across the room, and having

subsided into a prehensile loafer, crossed one leg over the other, picked up a video-viewer and began

squinting through it.

Alvin gazed up at Doctor Somervell and wondered what would happen next. He was conscious of no

feelings of guilt since he reasoned that whatever had happened (was, indeed, still happening!) had been at

her express wish. He was there-fore considerably surprised to hear her say: 'You ought to be thoroughly

ashamed of yourself, Alvin. And I thought you were such a nice boy tool'

'Been misbehaving himself, has he?' enquired Doctor Pfizier, glancing up from his viewer. 'I must say I'm

disappointed in you, Alvin.'

Alvin's blue eyes filled with tears. Censure from Doctor Pfizier was the unkindest cut of all.

'What's he been up to, Mo?'

Doctor Somervell rocked herself ruminatively backwards and forwards thereby causing Alvin to bite his

tongue. 'He asked me to demonstrate the technique of buckle resuscitation, Dimitri. Something to do with

his rescue service tests, he said.'

'Crafty, crafty,' nodded Doctor Pfizier, uncrossing his legs and scratching his groin. 'And so?'

'And so, of course, I showed him.' She sounded so sincere that Alvin almost found himself believing her.

'And before I knew what was happening he was taking advantage of me.'

'Bad,' grunted Doctor Pfizier. 'Very underhand.'

'That's just what it was, Dimitri. Underhand.' Frowning abstractedly, Doctor Somervell slipped her own

hand beneath her and gave Alvin a tweak that made his eyes pip like mush-rooms.

'Well, Alvin?' said Doctor Pfizier, 'what have you got to say for yourself? Come on, lad. Speak up!'

'I'm very sorry, sir,' gulped Alvin. 'I didn't mean to do any~-thing wrong. I thought-'

'You thought it was high time you found out whether Miss Somervell was as delectable a dish as I've

always told you she was,' said Doctor Pfizier smacking his lips. 'Well, is she?'

I-I don't know, sir. I mean-'

'Haven't you got anything to drink in this nunnery, Mo?' de-manded Doctor Pfizier, cutting him short. 'I

seem to recall-'

'In the cabinet, Dimitri. You might fix me one too, while you're at it.'

'Sure thing, doll.' Doctor Pfizier flung down the viewer and, clicking his fingers in a syncopated rhythm,

skipped through into the adjoining room.

Doctor Somervell took advantage of his absence to prise herself free. 'Do fasten up that zip, Alvin,' she

said. 'It really does you no credit.'

Alvin struggled up into a sitting position and adjusted his dress. He looked dazed and dejected. 'May I

go now, Doctor Somervell?' he enquired tearfully.

'Do,' she said, 'and mind you close the door after you. There's a terrible draught from somewhere.'

THREE

At II.30 the following morning Alvin was summoned to Doctor Pfizier's office. The Doctor, looking alert

and purposeful, but a shade paler than when Alvin had last seen him, came straight to the point. 'What's

this Mo's been telling me about you and some girl or other, Alvin?'

Alvin told him.

'Someone you've met around the lake, I suppose.'

'Oh, no, sir.'

'Well, we can't have you ramping around taking advantage of any stray female you happen to meet,

Alvin. They aren't all as tolerant as Doctor Somervell, you know.'

'But I'd never seen this girl before, sir.'

'Is that supposed to make sense?'

'I don't know, sir,' said Alvin sadly.

'And that trick you pulled last night,' said Doctor Pfizier, switching his line of attack. 'Not very nice, was

it?'

Alvin blinked. 'Nice, sir?' he queried vaguely.

'Haven't I always told you, Alvin? Once a lady always a lady!Touiours la politesse. Besides, Mo's old

enough to be your mother.'

'Yes, sir.'

'So what are we going to do about it?'

'Sir?'

Doctor Pfizier took a thoughtful turn up and down the room. 'According to our records you're down as

"null libido", Alvin. Do you know what that means?'

'No, sir.'

'Girls aren't supposed to interest you.'

Alvin's eyes opened even wider.

'That surprises you?'

'Well, yes, sir-I mean, no, sir.'

'Tell it to Doctor Somervell, eh?'

'Sir?'

'So the records are wrong. Which means there's been a balls--up at the M.0.P. Not for the first time, I'd

say.'

Alvin looked blank.

'I've tried to do my best by you, boy. God knows it hasn't been easy, but I've tried. Now I discover

there's a fundamental flaw in the matrix. All my hard work gone for nothing. It's a bit-ter disappointment,

I can tell you.'

Alvin began to weep silently.

Mens sana in corpore sano,'muttered Doctor Pfizier. 'As

the twig is bent so is the tree inclined.' He sighed hugely. 'W . ell,

there's nothing else for it, I'm afraid. Back to square one.'

Alvin snuffled wetly and dragged his sleeve across his drip-ping nose.

'Oh, cheer up, lad,' said Doctor Pfizier. 'Your heart's in the right place. Maybe they'll send you back to

us and we can start over again.'

'I3-back, sir?' gulped Alvin.

Doctor Pfizier nodded optimistically. 'I don't see why not. Shouldn't be too difficult to sponge the slate

clean. I'd take you along myself only I can't spare the time. I wonder who's due for a spot of furlough?'

He skipped across the room and questioned a video cabinet. Three numbers appeared on the screen.

Against one of them a point of light winked saucily. 'Twenty seven,' said Doctor Pfizier. 'Let's see now,

that's Norbert, isn't it?'

Alvin nodded.

'A thoroughly sound chimp our Norbert. You couldn't be in better hands. I'll call up the M.0.P. and let

them know you're coming.'

Alvin sniffed deferentially. 'What is the M.0.P., sir?'

'Ministry of Procreation,' said Doctor Pfizier. 'Professor Pointer knows all about you.'

'Do I haveto go, sir? Can't I have another chance?'

Doctor Pfizier stepped forward and put his arm round Alvin's quivering shoulders. 'But that's just what

we're giving you, son. A few little adjustments and you'll be back here again in a couple of weeks as

bright as a button. We can pick things up again right where we left off. That's what you want, isn't it?'

'Oh, yes, sir,' breathed Alvin fervently.

'Well then, you trot along and pack your grip while I put Norbert in the picture. You can catch the

shuttle from Aylesbury and be down in Croydon before dark. Might even have a chance to see a bit of

the big city. You'd like that, wouldn't you?'

'Would I, sir?'

'My goodness, yes!' enthused Doctor Pfizier. 'There's nothing like it! That's what civilization's all about,

Alvin! Where it's all happening! Tremendously exciting!'

Alvin's face brightened a little. 'I wish you were coming too, sir.'

'So do I, Alvin. So do I. Maybe some other time. Now you'll want a bit of ready cash, I daresay. Are

you due any wages?'

'Two months, sir.'

'Two months, eh? Well, collect it from Jefferson before you go. I'll have him make you out a travel

warrant, too. And you'll need your identity card. You won't get far without that.' Doctor Pfizier slapped

him on the shoulder and grinned encouragingly. 'You'll be all right, son. There's lots of good material in

you. And just between the two of us, I daresay Mo wasn't altogether as innocent as she makes out. But

we can't afford to take risks, can we? It's better this way. Scrap and start again. Profit from our

mistakes, eh? That way we'll all be proud of you yet, Alvin. I'm convinced of it.'

But Alvin wasn't really listening. He was seeing the girl with green eyes again. She was smiling at him.

Doctor Pfizier, observing his expression of entranced imbecil-ity, sighed and propelled him gently from

the room.

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摘要：

ONE At12.30hoursonSeptember3rd,2072,Alvinhadaneidetichallucination.Sinceitwasthefirsthehadexperiencedtheeffectuponhimwaswhollyunprecedented.HesatdownonthestumpoftheForsythesprucehehadjustfelled,claspedhishandsacrosshischestandbegantoshiveruncontrollably.Observingthelad'sstrangebehaviour,hiscompanio...

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Richard Cowper - Clone

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