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Tom W. Miller
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Business is slumping at Robert Cavanaughâ€™s Clone Shopping Network. Customers who desire adult clones wonâ€™t wait for infants to mature, and the Anti-Cloning Enforcement Agency wonâ€™t rest in pursuit.
Cavanaugh hopes to solve these problems with a new speed-aging technology, but first, he needs help from Abraham Lincolnâ€™s dope-smoking clone.
John Balboa would kill for just one of her hairs. He stared at the computer screen as the woman, dressed in a sheer red negligee, strutted across the stage like a fashion model.
Instead of going to college, JB, as his friends called him, had taught himself how to produce high-level computer encryption. As word of his talents spread, a friend of a friend of a friend recommended him to Robert Cavanaugh, the "Cloning King", who was trying to rebuild his business and needed secure e-mail. JB had requested access to the reborn Internet site in lieu of payment.
Some of the models sported two-piece bathing suits, while others wore only panties. A few women wore nothing at all. No matter what the outfit, JB found it infinitely more riveting than the body suits that made everyone look like a speed skater.
Not all the models were women. The world had plenty of wealthy females who were in the market for their own personal stud. These beefcakes would even do the cooking if the owner asked.
JB glanced at the ticker tape running along the bottom of the screen, listing prices. Just the source DNA alone cost between one and ten million dollars, and that was only the initial investment. "Developmental fees" for a fully mature clone approached fifty million. This included placement in an artificial womb, in utero mind preparation, growth and "training." During the training process, doctors used brainwashing techniques to mold the cloneâ€™s physical and psychological characteristics as closely as possible to the buyerâ€™s specifications. The clone even came with an upkeep kit--a lifetime supply of drugs needed to maintain an obedient state.
JB had heard horror stories of people trying to save money and raise their own clones. Many of these attempts at cost cutting turned out fat, ugly, and belligerent. Even for the lucky few who could afford the enormous fees, the wait for the finished product was long. Clones matured about twenty-five percent faster than a naturally-born person, but it would still take twelve years for a clone to reach the physical age of fifteen. In light of these drawbacks, JB was surprised that a market existed at all for these types of clones.
Some people used cloning as an infertility treatment. Before scientists developed organ cloning, other people had ordered clones and preserved them as organ farms in case the owner ever needed a transplant.
JB had thought that the filthy rich did not need to buy clones for sex. Money attracted beautiful people, naturally made and available at lower prices. But non-clones had motivations and needs that the rich partner had to satisfy for the sex to continue. A non-clone might have a headache when the partner was feeling randy. Owning a properly submissive clone eliminated these difficulties. As they said on CSN, a clone was "an investment in your sexual future."
The enterprise made even more sense when JB first saw Nicolette Turner stroll down the runway. Nicolette was not a typical fashion model. Unlike the usual stream of tiny waists and bony behinds, Nicolette was fleshy, Reubenesque. Whereas most other models wore a size four, Nicolette was at least an eight, maybe even a ten.
JB had first seen her on the cover of Real Women magazine. He felt like someone had cold-cocked him right there in the supermarket checkout line. Her jet-black hair and eyes, and her smooth, creamy white skin hypnotized him. Her body strained the fabric of the tank top she wore.
When JB saw her on CSN, he had an extra cable line installed so that he could have the network on twenty-four hours a day. After further study, JB understood why a man would pay millions of dollars for just one of her cell nuclei. When she smiled, she beamed a certain small-town innocence. She was a woman created for menâ€™s fantasies, but she was also the girl next door.
Tom W. Miller developed an avid interest in biotechnology after participating in a genetic study at the National Institutes of Health. He resides in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley with his family.
Book Publisher: Wings e Press
No. of Pages: 316
Paper Weight (lb): 13.4
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