Belgrade Noir

“It’s never happened before, and we’ve experimented a lot. Marija 2.0 will perfectly fulfill her role: she will live for you in your home, while you are where you really want to be. No one will notice the difference. When I turn on the autonomous mode, your specific wave front will enter the scene — what makes you unique — and she will react to every situation as you would. Did you bring things for her?”

Marija lifted a large paper bag containing her purse, wallet, makeup, car and house keys, clothes, socks, shoes, bracelet, necklace, and wristwatch — identical to those she had on her. The director took the bag from her, approached the chair with the silent Marija 2.0, and lowered her to the floor.

“Nevertheless…”

“Yes?” Marija asked.

“In order to be completely safe — in the event that something unforeseen happens — we will also program a safe word. Say something that you would remember in an instant, so it can serve as a kind of switch…”

“Mombasa,” she said without thinking. It was the name of a luxurious perfume, the first gift she’d received from Isak. The perfume that she had not stopped using since then.

“Mombasa! Excellent.” The director typed the word on the tablet with pleasure. “Let’s try it?”

He swiped his fingers across the touch screen, and Marija 2.0 stood up, turned to her, looked her straight in the eyes, and stepped forward.

Marija felt a sudden shudder along her spine and gave him a look. The director nodded.

“Mombasa!” she exclaimed.

Marija 2.0 immediately stopped.

“Perfect,” he said, and the duplicate, after the newly typed instructions, returned to her place. “We still need to agree on the logistics. Do you want her to go back to your apartment right now?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suggest putting her into autopilot mode when she gets in your car. And when you return…”

“You programmed her to come back here in fifteen days at this exact time?”

“Of course. It’s easiest that way. However, if for some reason her independent return is not possible, it may be best to replace her at your place. You have the safe word, so you can invite me to come, and I will arrange for her to be returned to the lab.”

Marija looked at her calm face on the woman who stood nearly a foot from her. “Then what will happen to her?” she asked.

“We’ll put her back,” he said indifferently.

“Into her previous state?”

“Yes. We will dissolve her into proteins, water, minerals, everything that makes a human organism.”

Marija gulped. “And what about the… software?”

He looked a little surprised. “You mean what will happen to the scanned person who is now in our server? Mr. Lero ordered that we delete this information as soon as this fifteen-day trial is over. Except, of course, if you want to preserve it for some future opportunity.”

“All right,” Marija said. “I’ll tell you when I’ve made a decision about that. This is all too new and strange for me.”

“And for us too, Mrs. Vranješ,” the director said. “For us too.”

As Marija entered the elevator, her perfect copy slowly took out clothes from the bag and started to get dressed.

What is your name?

Marija. Marija Vranješ.

She frowned, leaning on the sink as the phantom words passed through her head again. She washed her cup and ashtray and lay both on the drying rack.

She couldn’t explain the feeling of duplication that had followed her the past few days. It was there while she was driving to work, letting the autonomous system operate the vehicle through the central city streets. It was there while she worked in the office surrounded by colleagues she had known for more than ten years. It was there while she presented a concept for the next museum exhibition to her boss who always only half listened to her proposals and usually accepted them without objections. There was this feeling of duplication while she was spending time with her friends, during beauty treatments, at the hairdresser’s, yoga classes, in tanning booths… For some reason she couldn’t understand this artificial tanning in the least bit — she had never, as far as she recalled, resorted to that dangerous method of tanning.

It was as if she were in her own body and somewhere else, where she watched herself behave naturally, easily, spontaneously, in all these everyday situations. The situation at home wasn’t helping, either.