The Second Replica

Fran switched on her videophone. The round, reddish face of the general manager of the GYHB (General Yol Holovision Broadcasting) appeared on the screen.

"Mrs. Stanton, I've called together a sitting of the entire department managers in GYHB at eleven o'clock, sharp. We need to talk about a very important subject."

"Let me guess, Mr. Goldstein," said Fran dryly. "We're going to listen to empty words from that upstart from Earth who intends to swallow up our GYHB."

"Well, Mrs. Stanton, I wouldn't dare to designate Mr. Vigo with such a mark. We have to think about the problem of the possible licence for his 'Free Enterprise Corporation'. We must take a look at a short demo, which Mr. Vigo will comment on in person."

"I'll be there, Mr. Goldstein," said Fran.

Her husband and she have several times discussed Vigo's live broadcast 'Real Life', which has been very popular on Earth for a long time. The most frequent places in the 'Real Life' broadcasting were poor, disreputable suburban districts of large megalopolises on Earth -- with all their crime included. For the recent several months Vigo's 'Free Enterprise Corporation' began to broadcast it on Yol, too.

The great technological innovations of the 'Real Life', were free levitating cameras the size of a football that were able to shoot automatically. Because of their size and mobility they got a popular name 'cursor'. The built-in video sensors guided the cursor movement or change of lighting, and the audio sensors to the sound sources. The director on duty in Vigo's holovision center simultaneously watched scenes from those cursors and then broadcast the most exciting or interesting ones live.

In the conference room Vigo was already sitting next to the GYHB general manager. The light was subdued and the technician started the recording.

The cursor was sliding about twenty feet above the ground, following the piercing groans and whines from among the cluster of residential blocks. When it entered a narrow backyard, the audience saw a group of men beating three or four figures lying on the stone pavement with the baseball bats. Then the cursor showed the swiftly changing close-ups: a hand holding a broken bottle, a face covered in blood, a foot kicking one of the falling figure in the kidney three, four times, the triumphant guffaw of the winners.

"Not bad, huh?" Vigo commented.

There was an instant change over to the next scene. Through the open entrance door of a saloon burst out two disheveled women, screaming; one of them is pulling the hair of her rival, the other tries to scratch out the first one's eyes. A group of laughing men is gathering around them; one of them is collecting bets loudly.

The outcome stays unknown for the scene changes again. "Aha!" remarked Vigo. "Now it's following something special."

At the foot of some stairs, the back of a man in a dirty coat was moving in a hasty rhythm. The audience realized they were watching a rape. The cursor looked for a better angle for recording but then the man hid his face in the bend of his elbow and darted into the dark cellar.

"It happens sometimes one hears the cursor," Vigo explained. "They still hum a bit; but our engineers promised me the next series would be soundless."

The girl got up, tottering, and the cursor shows her childlike face dissolved in tears. A young woman, sitting beside Fran, got up and left the room.

In the next scene two tattooed teenagers with knives in their hands were running away from an old man, cringing on his knees and hands over the increasing pool of his own blood.

Now Fran rose hastily, strode to the exit and only just made it to the ladies' room in time.

***

My videophone uttered a signal and my wife's face appeared on the screen. Over her shoulder I could see a part of our living room.

"Fran! What're you doing at home at this time? You've been crying."

"Oh, Brad, could you come home earlier?" Her voice was trembling. "I need you."

"Are you okay? What's happened?"

"Don't worry about me. But we need to talk, urgently. I can't explain more on a phone. When can you be here?"

"In one hour. Well, maybe, in forty-five minutes"

"Thank you, Brad. Still, don't exceed the speed limit."

Fran, barefoot and disheveled, opened our entrance door for me and rested her head on my chest. I returned her tight hug and briefly caressed her hair.

"What's the matter, honey? Trouble in your GYHB?"

She shook her head. "More than just trouble, Brad."

Fran needed the next fifteen minutes or so to put me in the picture. "Do you realize," she said, "what a perfidious trick Vigo has in mind? First he'll try to get us to agree to his disgusting 'Real Life'. Then he'd try to oust our GYHB from the market"
 
"Oh, dear. I've my doubts that 'Real Life' would be very popular on our Yol."

"Regrettably, only the first experimental broadcastings would be transmitted from Earth. I'm afraid before long many streets in the Yol's metropolises will swarm with Vigo's cursors."

"But on our Yol they could hardly find the same violence that happens on Earth."

Fran shook her head. "Up to now, maybe. But some of our youngsters are already indoctrinated enough and try to get on the holovision at any costs. They performsham fights, watching if the cursors shoot a video of them. How long do you think it will last before the simulated fighting becomes real?"

"Why -- you may be right," I admitted. "And the violence would grow increasingly gory to transcend all the other competitors."

"Brad, you're a law consultant for our government. Use your imagination and tell me what we could do against that threat."

I chewed over some possibilities. "Well, to begin I'll try to organize a special broadcast on the GYHB. Then the holovision viewers would hear and see both opinions -- in favor of it and against it. As initiator, I'd be present there, and I guarantee I won't be quiet."

***
 
Vigo and his followers from Earth were standing on the left side of the stage in the big GYHE studio, while my adherents and I gathered on the right side. I was nervous because this broadcast could be decisive for the final government decision about Vigo's licence. I was aware that several million viewers were watching me, my Fran included.

Vigo was the first speaker. "Our 'Free Enterprise Corporation' grew during our fifteen years of business into the most successful company on Earth. Our newest holovision broadcast 'Real Life' is been watching by three billion spectators. I see no reason why the people on Yol should be deprived of it only because they're colonists on another planet."

Vigo glanced around, let his eyes rest on me and his look was full of scorn.

"Our broadcasts are always fresh, and wide open to revolutionary technological innovations. As you know, our corporation has launched three stationary satellites above Yol to enable offering our services of that free experimental programme. If our corporation gets a licence for permanent broadcasting we'll get the opportunity to show the premiere of a brand-new, sensational live broadcast 'Double Duel'."

The moderator switched the green light from Vigo's counter to mine.

"Let me remind all you," I started, "that Yol, our beloved new home, is known as the 'ecological planet' for it reminds us of the beautiful image of Earth in the first half of the twentieth century. The two hundred million inhabitants of Yol are resolved that they should not repeat the fatal errors of Earthmen and will not allow either the environmental or the social pollution like Earth suffers."

I felt my voice was getting more self-sure.

"A century and a half ago, our entire population and our government set out on the course we've chosen. We don't wish to establish the overpopulation of rats in cage, extreme poverty next to the enormous richness, violence as in a jungle. And, we don't care for the soulless holovision broadcastings, like Vigo's. They praise all that to the skies, trying to convert our people to buy mental trifles."

Vigo tried to cut in but the moderator politely silenced him.

"They hope to get brainwashed consumers used to buying material trifles from Earth, inferior goods, which shall later -- what an incredible coincidence -- be delivered on our Yol by the same Vigo's corporation."

Loud applause from the audience drowned my last words.

One of Vigo's adherents started to talk back about our monopoly, isolationism, fear of progress and about Yol becoming boggy; but I didn't pay much attention to his gabbing.

About an hour later the broadcast has closed. The brief opinion poll showed we'd won but only with a slight margin over Vigo's supporters. The decisive fight was still to come.

***

The next evening I came home for dinner and kissed Fran on her cheek.

"You better sit down." I sat facing her. "Vigo the Mighty in person visited me today!"

"What?"

I grinned. "He tried to bribe me. If I changed my standpoints in his favor he offered me an annual cut of his profit."

Fran stared at me for a while. "I suppose you chucked him out of your office?"

"Well, not right away. I asked him to give me a hint about the number he was talking about. And he told me without evasion."

"Well?"

"Every year about twenty times more than my present yearly income is. Or a single payment of a hundred million in cash."

"And what was your answer?"

"I said literally: 'Mr. Vigo, I'm very impressed and also flattered -- but no, thank you.' And he didsn't seem too much surprised."

"And then he left you?"

"Yes. But at the doorjamb he turned around and his eyes were full of hate. He said: 'I strongly advise you to reconsider your present standpoint, mister Stanton. If you change your mind, you need do no more than tell me those two simple words we've mentioned -- one hundred million. In the opposite case, I'll have to think about another alternative.'"

"That was a serious threat, Brad." Fran looked anxious. "And you'd better not underestimate Vigo; he's an unscrupulous rascal."

***

Early the next morning, Fran was still sleeping,I was preparing coffee for us. In one corner of the kitchen the small holovision set was on; suddenly I heard my name, repeatedly.

"... As an offended party Mr. Joachim Andrew Vigo, the president of the Free Enterprise Corporation challenges Mr. Bradford Michael Stanton to a 'Double Duel' according to the regulations that are in force on Earth. This event will be transmitted live within the final holovision broadcast about granting or rejecting the permanent licence to Vigo's corporation. The only possibility for canceling the Double Duel is the instant granting of this licence from the government. The challenger, Mr. Vigo, obviously presumes that Mr. Stanton's standpoint may be decisive for that granting. There are rumors Vigo's corporation would go bankrupt if he wouldn't get the licence so he's forced to risk his own life in that duel. We'll try to get authentic comments from both of the parties involved as soon as..."

I rushed into our bedroom and sat down on the Fran's side of the bed.

"I can't believe he'd challenge you to a duel!" Fran was indignant over Vigo's call. "What a barbaric, obsolete custom! For heaven's sake–-we aren't on Earth and we do not live in the nineteen century! What does it mean 'according to the regulations that are in force on Earth'?"

I shrugged. "As far as I know, such duels are, again, quite a common way of solving grave personal conflicts on Earth."

Fran grasped both my hands and her eyes stared at mine. "Brad, tell me without avoiding the issue -- what's the usual outcome of those stupid duels? The death of one or both duelists?"

"Well... not always."

"I won't let you fight." Fran's voice was resolute. "You must simply ignore that bastard."

I shook my head. "I'm afraid that won't do. The entire population of our Yol would consider me a coward and the following voting result would be at least uncertain. I'm afraid there is no way out. I simply have to go to that duel, no matter what we think about it."

I saw Fran was very near crying. "But... but he could kill you in cold blood! Did you see his murderous eyes, Brad? No, I won't allow you to commit suicide."

I gave her a cordial hug. "Don't be so pessimistic, Fran. Nothing tragic will happen, I promise you. I'll stay alive; and I'll also do everything not to kill Vigo with my own hands."

Fran's eyes widened. "Oh, Brad! How do you intend to do that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know yet. But I hope something will come to me after I study the 'Double Duels Regulations' book. Come with me to the living room, Fran, and I'll bring you a cup of hot coffee. We have to find out all the details."

Suddenly, my cell videophone uttered a sound and only a second later Fran's did the same. The press was beginning their attack. I dictated a brief message that I'd give my personal decision about the duel at an improvised press conference today at noon.

Then I switched the both connections off so we could listen to further news on the holovision without disturbance.

"Our parliament will enable the entire people of Yol to take part in the decision about the granting or refusing of Vigo's licence. For this purpose, an instant referendum will be organized. Each adult inhabitant of the planet Yol shall choose one of two knobs 'yes' or 'no' on his personcode; later corrections or multiple voting are not possible. That vote will be carried through after the final discussion broadcast about that matter."

I switched through several other channels, one after another. "Look."

"... although the government bulletin does not mention the intended duel between Mr. Vigo and Mr. Stanton, we came to know their 'Double Duel' will be included into the final discussion on GYHB."

"Here you are," said Fran slowly. "Your press conference proved unnecessary. Instead of that..." her emotional voice died away.

I nodded. "Instead of a few dozen reporters I'll have several million holovision viewers eager to see a modern gladiator fight. It seems there is no way back."

***

Late that evening I said to Fran. "Nowadays the modern technology enables every one of us to make a biodigital replica of any man or woman. I presume you know from school what the 'replica' means? "

She nodded. "Well, in short, replica is an artificial quasi human being without the will of its own, programmed by his owner. Each replica is so similar to the original personthat only a tissue analysis could prove who's who."

"That isn't entirely so," I remarked. "There is an outer recognition sign, but only for the maker of the replica. He can see around his replica a slight bluish aura through special polarized eyeglasses, which are in tune with his own retina. All the others people and other replicas can't distinguish between a man and his replica for they seem identical."

"Very good," said Fran. "Now, let's read over the 'Double Duel Regulations' once again. We'll take turns and you'll be the first."

"Okay, listen. 'GENERAL RULES. An unbiased commission supervises all the preparing activity for the manufacture of both replicas, complying the following conditions:
- each duelist delivers his Personal File to his adversary
- each duelist examines the Personal File of his adversary and may make objections to it.'
- each duelist is allowed to make only one replica

Ohm... that's all understandable. The next paragraph is yours."

"Here you are," said Fran. 'CONTENTS OF THE PERSONAL FILE. Here ll the physical characteristics of both duelists are presented. The basic form is their 3-D holograms with the following specifications. Oh, for heaven's sake! There are more than twenty items!"

"You needn't read it aloud; I've already printed this page and fixed it here, on the wall."

"Fair enough," said Fran. "Your turn, I presume."

"Well, I'll choose only the essential points of 'THE MAKING PROCEDURE'. Let's see. Hm... yes, that seems important. Listen.

'... All the properties of the replica must be in the total accordance with the Personal File as a whole and in every detail. That allows the automatic process steered by computer under the simultaneous Commission surveillance.'

With a smile, I handed the manual back to Fran. "That's all that counts, dear."

She gave me a grave look. "Brad, all that counts is you stay okay. Did you forget how ruthless and dangerous a bastard Vigo is? He wouldn't hesitate to kill you if that's what's necessary to gain his damned licence."

"I know, dear. The next paragraph the 'DOUBLE DUEL PROCEDURE'," is the most important part of the entire damned regulations. There are only three items:

1. To the duelist and his replica it IS allowed to use only the weapon that they have gotten from the Commission

2. To the duelist and his replica it is NOT allowed to destroy their adversary's replica. If that happens the culpable party loses the Double Duel

3. To the duelist and his replica it IS allowed to kill or disable their live adversary. The duel is finished when that happens."

I shook my head. "So I won't know which one is Vigo and which is his replica during the entire duel. But I ought to know that or else I won't know which of them I'm allowed to shut of!"

Fran put the Regulations away without looking at me. Then I noticed her eyes were brimming with tears so I embraced her and felt her arms clasping forcefully around me. I tried to find any comforting words, but it was in vain. So we just sat there in silence.

***

The shrill sound of the alarm clock pierced my ears. So, the moment of truth had dawned. All my tiresome efforts during the last two weeks were over. I'd made my replica and I'd instructed him to the best of my ability about what he had to do.

I put on my combat overalls, tying all the compulsory arms to my belt: a binoculars, two infrasound grenades, two plastic earplugs, an inductor of the energetic shield, a box with ten smoke petards, the antismoke filter, and, finally, the only lethal weapon -- a blaster.

My replica, equally grotesquely dressed, was already waiting for me. We checked our audio connection once more and entered the windowless van that drove us to the duel range. I knew our two adversaries were being simultaneously transported from the opposite side of the duel range.

When both of us stepped out, I realized we were in a huge building site. Large excavations, heaps of building materials and piled up equipment were excellent hideouts where one could waylay his opponent. My replica went aside to find a suitable place. I wormed over the open space, watching for where my two adversaries would emerge. High above me, several cursors circled and under their intrusive lenses I felt naked and vulnerable.

The bang of Vigo's smoke petard scared me, but it also relaxed me in a way. My hand impulsively searched for the antismoke filter and pressed it into my nostrils. I also threw two or three of my petards at random and swiftly moved aside in the shade of the nearest crane. As soon as smoke clouds blow away, I noticed two Vigos.

They stood beyond the huge pit, not moving, one next to another, holding blasters in their hands. They don't need to hide themselves; Vigo knew I wouldn't risk shooting without knowing who was who. They wore trousers and T-shirts that showed only a slight difference: the right one wasn't sweaty at all while the left one had two large, humid semicircles under his armpits.

I rose, my blaster aiming at the left Vigo, my hands trembling and my heart throbbing madly. Still, after a long hesitation, I quit.

Now I realized that killing a man, no matter how villainous he was, was simply beyond my powers. Besides, everything seemed much too simple to me and I didn't dare take risks. Instead of that, I activated the inductor of the energy shield between the both Vigos. I knew the shield stretched for several hundred feet and they'd need a long time to come together again.

At that instant, an idea struck me. I shouted over the pit: "Okay -- one hundred million!"

The left Vigo made two steps more while the right one stopped dead. In the next instant he threw something in my direction so I hardly had time to lay prone, pressing the earplugs into my ears. The violent explosion of Vigo's infrasound grenade deafened me. I spat some sand out of my mouth, crawled away among a pile up material, and grinned triumphantly.

Now I finally knew who was who.

So well hidden I could watch Vigo through my binoculars without great risk. His magnified face was grimacing in a blind hatred and his lips moving, most probabbly cursing. He observed through the energy shield his replica stumbling over the obstacles on the ground.

I neared my mouth to the mic pinned to my overalls and said: "Now!"

Vigo gazed spellbound at his another replica, which was aiming a blaster at him.

I gussesed if Vigo had time, before the blast struck him, to notice his second replica hadn't any aura.

***

Two hours later I finally managed to escape out of the noisy, boisterous crowd that was cheering for me. I hardly understood several confusing voices that tried to explain to me that the Double Duel Commission found out that Vigo was correctly eliminated by the replica, which I'd made. The holovision viewers roared with laughter when they saw that one Vigo had killed the other one. The instant referendum nearly unanimously voted against granting the licence for the 'Free Enterprise Corporation' for good.

The local police squad drove Fran and I home and posted a few of their men to turn the paparazzi away from our property. I opened a bottle of cooled champagne and filled two glasses.

"Finally alone, dear," I said. "Cheers!"

"Oh, Brad," sighed Fran, tears of joy in her eyes, "I'm so happy you're okay! But now I'm simply devoured with curiosity -- explain to me what we've seen. How in Space was it possible there were two replicas of Vigo and none of yours?"

I grinned and poured some more of the golden bubbles in our glasses. "You know, we lawyers are used to reading all texts exactly as they're written and not in the way that seems to be logical, understand?"

She shook her head.

"Look," I said, "it's very simple. Both duelists got access to the 'Personal File' of his adversary, remember? In the 'Double Duel Regulations' it's written only that each duelist is allowed to make one replica. But it isn't written anywhere he must make the replica of himself."

-- by Edward Rodosek