"Replica03 - Another Amy - Kaye, Marilyn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kaye Marilyn)

"Maybe this isn't the best day to talk to the director," Amy murmured. She glanced at the curtain. "Or the star."
Tasha agreed. "Let's get out of here."
Amy thought they were both speaking softly, but the girl must have heard them. "Is someone there?" she called out sharply. "Who's in my trailer?"
Amy grabbed Tasha's hand, but they couldn't move fast enough. Once again the curtain was brushed aside, and a girl appeared in the room.
Amy gasped. The world came to an abrupt halt. The universe went still, the earth stopped spinning. She was frozen in place, unable to move, unable to breathe.
The other girl, too, appeared stunned. Her eyes widened. She was Amy's height, and Amy's shape. She wore a yellow satin robe, tied at the waist. Her hair was blond, and it hung down her back in spiral curls.
But in every other way, Amy could have been looking at her own reflection. The eyes, the mouth, the nose . . . each feature of the girl's face was exactly like Amy's.
Amy's head began to spin, and she thought she might faint. She saw the same shock of recognition in the other girl's eyes. Tasha saw it, too. Amy felt Tasha's hand tightening on her own, and from somewhere far away she heard Tasha saying, "Ohmigosh," in a voice that was barely audible.
Amy didn't know how long they stood there, staring at each other. It seemed like an eternity, but it could only have been a few seconds.
Finally Amy spoke, and she said the only thing that came to her mind.
"Amy?"
The other girl opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, there was a noise . . . a low moan that grew louder and escalated into a shriek.
The door burst open and the burly guard who had admitted them to the trailer ran in. "What's going on?"
"Get them out of here! Now!" the actress screamed at him.
The man looked at Amy and then at the actress. For a moment he seemed totally confused, his eyes darting back and forth between them in disbelief. "What theЧI thoughtЧ"
But as the actress continued to scream at him, he went into action. Roughly he grabbed Amy's arm with one hand and Tasha's arm with the other. The girls put up no resistance as he pulled them out of the trailer and yelled at them to beat it.
Then Tasha took over. Still holding Amy's hand, she dragged her away from the school grounds. For once, it was Tasha who was moving faster and in the lead. Amy stumbled along, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. Barely able to see, or hear . . . and totally unable to think.
As for speech, all she could do was repeat the same words over and over again.
"That was Amy. Another Amy."


5

"Your color's coming back," Tasha said as she ▒ handed Amy her third glass of water in less than five minutes.
Amy could feel her breath coming easier too, although her heart was still pounding harder and faster than usual. She drank the water in one gulp, then sank back onto the pillows Tasha had propped up on her bed.
"How are you feeling now?" Tasha asked anxiously.
"I'm okay."
"I thought you were going to pass out back there."
"Can you blame me?" Amy asked.
"No. It was a pretty freaky experience."
Amy nodded.
"I guess that was why the guard let us in so easily," Tasha mused. "He thought you were her, with different hair."
Again Amy could only bob her head up and down in agreement.
"Of course," Tasha continued, "it's not like this was the first time you've had this happen to you."
Amy knew that Tasha was referring to the French dancer. At that time, Amy had been totally floored by the coincidence of finding herself in the same general vicinity, under the same roof, as another Amy. And now, today, she had come face-to-face with one.
She was very glad Tasha had been there to witness the encounter. "It wasn't my imagination, was it?" she asked Tasha. She didn't really doubt herself, but she wanted confirmation.
Tasha gave it to her. "It wasn't your imagination. That actress was your twin." After a moment she said, "I guess twin really isn't the right word. What would you call her? Your replica?"
It was a creepy word, Amy thought. Artificial and not quite human. There had to be something else she could call the actress.
"I've seen her before," Tasha declared.
"You have?" Amy asked in astonishment. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I did tell you, remember? I saw her on that TV commercial."
Amy decided that from now on she would trust Tasha's observations. But it was so hard to believe. "There are twelve Amys in the world," she said, "and two of them have turned up in Los Angeles in the space of a month. Three, including me. What are the odds of that happening?"
"I haven't the slightest idea," Tasha said. "And how do you know for sure there are only twelve Amys?"
"My mother was working in the lab, remember? And she can count."
Tasha persisted. "But she wouldn't necessarily know if there were other experiments going on, in other laboratories, with the exact same genes and DNA stuff. There could be hundreds of Amys, thousands of Amys . . ."
"Tasha," Amy moaned, "you're giving me a headache."
"Sorry," Tasha said automatically. Then she grinned. "You liar. You've never had a headache in your life."
"Well, if I could have a headache, I'd be having one now."
Tasha sat down on the edge of the bed. "What does it feel like?" she asked. "Knowing there are others exactly like you?"
"I'm not sure what I feel," Amy confessed. "When I first knew what I was, I thought it would be creepy to meet another clone. But when we went to the ballet and I saw that dancer, I wanted to meet her and talk to her. Know her."