Wow, man. Wow.

Beth wasn't kidding at all when she said Alison was a nightmare.

If Beth was the typical cop with Type A personality, Alison was... I don't know... obsessive compulsive, paranoid, hysteric etc etc. I could keep adding to the list without being wrong and it would probably read like a shrink's note.

Speaking of shrinks, Alison probably needed one.

After two weeks of extensive research on human cloning techniques, I had had enough. My curiosity was killing me. I wanted to meet my clones.

That doesn't even sound real, Niehaus... which is why I had to go to Toronto and see for myself.

I managed a weekend off for myself and set off for my destination. If there was a "cloneclub" out there, I wanted in. This could have profound implications for what I do everyday and having myself as the subject was the freakiest thing that could ever happen to me... in an awesome way!

We met at Beth's townhouse because her boyfriend, Paul, was out of town. Alison would never meet anywhere else anyway. It was not exactly a happy reunion of long lost identical triplets that she could host in her living room, graced by the presence of her husband and kids.

Our meeting was... interesting, for the lack of better word. I also found it kinda hilarious, in a morbid way, but I knew my humor wouldn't be appreciated by Beth or the soccer mom.

Alison had taken one glance at me before she buried her head in her hands and rocked on the couch and breathed out in an unnaturally squeaky voice, "Oh, oh, it's the same ugly face."

I'd have found it insulting but the absurdity of the situation struck me so hard that a hoarse chuckle escaped my throat. "Hate to break this to you, Ms Hendrix, but we have the same face."

Alison glared at me in response. "Do you think it's funny? Do you think it's funny? I have a family, a husband, two children. I live in a society. I have my friends. I have too many people to answer to. What do you think will happen if this gets out? What will I tell Donnie? What will I tell my children? That their mother isn't a real person? That Alison Hendrix is not a real person?" She finally gasped for a breath, "That she's... she's..."

"A clone?" I automatically completed her sentence, trying to help her out. Big mistake.

Alison flinched before lashing out, "Do not utter that word in front of me!"

I furrowed my brows in incomprehension. "Which word? 'Clone'?"

"I said do not utter the C-word." Her voice was menacingly low.

Holy watershed, she's off her handle!

Beth was sitting in the corner, nursing her whiskey and watching us. I looked at her and pleaded silently for help. How the heck was I supposed to deal with a woman who was allergic to scientific truth?

Beth shrugged before getting up, walking up to the couch and flopping down beside the lady in pink.

"Ali, she's trying to help." Her voice was quiet, resigned.

"Help? What help? I'm not sick! It's not my fault that I'm a... a... whatever. I have a family to protect. I don't need help. I don't want any part of this. I just want this to be over. I want to go back to coaching Gemma's figure skating classes."

"Dude, are you even real?" I couldn't help myself. Here was this amazingly intense thing going on where we were possibly the miracles of scientific advancement, a proof that living, breathing human beings could be created from scratch (not technically, but whatevs...) and here was this woman drenched in pink paint whose sole mission in life was to get back to figure skating. Really?

My question was a big mistake though.

"No, no, I'm not real," Alison howled. "I know I'm not. But I have to pretend I am. I have a reputation. I am not a random illuminati hippie with a nose ring and fake dreads."

"Don't forget the tats," I chimed in, pointing at my forearm but she only glared in response.

Like I said, wow!

I had to try a different approach. Humor was always the best for me but definitely not for this highly wound up woman. I had often wondered as a kid if there was an exact opposite version of me somewhere in a parallel universe... you know, kind of like matter and antimatter... and now I knew that an exact contrast of myself existed and it was her. Only, it wasn't a parallel universe and I wasn't her. Also, unlike matter and antimatter, we had to learn to coexist somehow.

What a mind fuck! I'm too sober for this.

I tried to be as gentle as possible when I started again, "You are a real person, you know... and so are we."

When she looked up, her eyes were brimming with unshed tears. "I'm sorry. I'm not that rude." She sniffed. "What am I supposed to do? Oh dear God, what am I supposed to do?"

Her tears seemed to trigger something inside Beth and she quickly put down her glass on the coffee table before putting an arm around the quietly sobbing woman. The women shared camaraderie, which was nice to see... but it also stirred something inside me.

Behind all the science, all the euphoria, all the "know-it-all" hand waving and explanations, all the morbid humor and chemical induced high, I was lonely. I wish I had someone whom I could share my concerns with, someone who would just hold me and tell me that it'd all be okay... because I was painfully aware that while I was having the time of my life at the crest of this scientific roller coaster, a dreadful drop waited somewhere ahead. Someone was hunting us.

"So... can you tell us anything new?" This time it was Beth. Her voice was calm... but there was something else in her voice. Despair? Apathy? I couldn't quite place it.

I was reminded once more that no matter how much I craved for friendship, for a comforting hug, this was not a place where either of them was to be found. This might be the "cloneclub" (although I was sure Alison would retch at the nomenclature) but all of us were here by chance, because our makers had decided to replicate the same DNA sequences into multiple zygotes, because we all looked alike. We were here because we were in danger. Since the beginning of time, through out the twists and turns of evolution, animals move in packs in order to avoid danger. As time progressed, as Homo sapiens emerged, as the neolithic man learned to stand erect on his two feet, as the human brain's neocortex developed, they named their pack "society". But nomenclature apart, nothing had changed.

Here we were, three frightened animals, forming a pack in order to survive the unknown forces threatening to destroy us. We needed strength, Beth had it. We need knowledge, I had it... well, kind of. And Alison... I didn't know how she would fit in but she would. Animals have always found a way to adapt and be a part of the pack. A few engineered genetic sequences in our DNA wouldn't make much of a difference as far as our primal survival instinct was concerned. What was a delightful mystery to me until now had suddenly turned serious in the face of Alison's panic and Beth's despair.

Beth cleared her throat and I was reminded that I still had to answer her question. "Well... I was reading up on the gene replication techniques that were available around the time of our birth... and long story short, yeah, Katja's theory is probably right."

"But we're still human beings, right?" The panic in Alison's voice didn't amuse me.

"Yeah, yeah... of course... we are human beings. We have the same chromosomal structure as the human beings. When you make a photocopy of a document, both the original and the photocopy are papers, right? It's like that..."

"Only the photocopies are now going into the shredder..." Alison interrupted.

We were silent for a moment before Beth spoke up, "Do you know who the original could be? I mean, with all the DNA testing that you said you'll do, is it possible for you to find out?"

I shook my head, unsure of myself. "I really need to know what exactly we're looking at here before I can answer that. May be if Katja could hurry up..."

"She's trying but she's also trying to remain alive, so it's kind of tricky at the moment."

"Yeah," I sighed. Alison had effectively popped my bubble and now here I was, feeling freaky and lonely, with a million thoughts running inside my head and a desperate urge for pot growing inside me.

"You're tired," Beth observed in a detached tone. Something was amiss. I didn't feel her warmth that I had briefly felt in that bar in Minneapolis. Don't get me wrong, she was still calm, composed and dutiful... but something was missing. It wasn't stress or dread or fear... that would have been perfectly logical. It was the opposite, the absence of suitable affect that struck me as odd.

Maybe she's one of those types who shut down under stress...

"Look, I need to go back to my hotel... I have an early morning flight tomorrow..."

"Okay, I'll see you out."

I stood up, gathered my purse and gave Alison a small wave. The poor woman had no idea what's going on and if I were her, I'd have freaked out too.

Beth walked me out on the steps. "Are you sure you can manage your way back to your hotel alone?"

I smiled. "Don't worry about that, I got it."

"Here," Beth shoved something into my hand and it took me a moment to realize that it was a cheap prepaid phone. "Take this, we'll talk on this. It's safer this way."

"I see you've let Alison choose the color," I smirked as I shoved it inside my coat pocket.

Beth smiled and looked at me for a moment. "You've a nice sense of humor. It's a welcome change."

I waved my hand in fake nonchalance, "It's who I am." I grinned and turned, preparing to walk down the steps.

"Cosima?"

"Yeah?"

"I really like you, not to mention we need you. So... try to stay alive, okay?"

I didn't know how to respond to that. "You too..." I mumbled before making a hasty exit.

I sat in the cab, watching the city lights pass by, on my way back to my hotel. Hundreds of men, women and children thronged the sidewalks, busy on their way to their weekend destination. Two weeks ago, in a different city, in a different country, I was just like them. And now, everything was different.

The scene of Beth putting her hand over Alison's shoulders replayed in my mind. Alison had Beth. Beth had someone too... Paul... whoever he was. Perhaps, she wouldn't tell him what was going on but... she had someone she could turn to for comfort.

I exited the cab once I reached my hotel, paid the driver and trudged inside. Once I swiped the key card, the door opened and I entered. I took in the scene in front of me. The room was well lit and professionally decorated. My little red trolley bag still lay at the foot of the bed where I had left it in the afternoon. After making sure nothing was out of the ordinary, I dropped on the pristine white sheets without even bothering to remove my shoes. I removed my glasses with one hand and placed it blindly somewhere on the bed.

I was tired and I could feel my eyelids growing heavier. Ah well, I'd survive one night without dinner. As sleep took over me, I remember thinking only one thing.

I wish I weren't alone.