Doppelgangers by H. F. Heard

shouldn’t he enjoy the absurdity? Seriousness belonged to the living who had to go on living, not to those already made free of the complete non-relevance of death. The other man evidently, though, knew his part better than to co-operate at that grave-level.
    He remarked, “I have viewed you already. This work now I must and can only do myself.” Then he stopped and seemed to wish to impress his listener with his weariness. It was quite a good piece of acting, thought his audience of one.
    â€œI presume you understand your situation,” the one with the speaking part went on. “You can go on living at one cost, and it’s a reasonable price: that you cease to be a person and become a double, a shadow. I am told that such accidents do happen. Those who handle such supervisions reported to me that there had suddenly, appeared a man who was my double. They were, of course, for killing him outright. But this was, as it happens so often with me, providential for me, and maybe for him. The inquiry shows that he obtained a post in the place where my food is prepared and that of my staff; that he had either had some injury or was undergoing some kind of facial treatment and that on obtaining new teeth, the set of the face was completely altered and he appeared as my double.”
    The listener kept his balance as his view of his problem went through this capsize.
    â€œMay I see a mirror?” he asked.
    The man who was now standing in front of him put his hand in the breast of his tunic and held a small mirror in front of him. He could see his own face—or what he supposed was what his face had now become—and the face of the other just above it. Quietly he checked over the two images. What a piece of work and what a piece of planning!
    The man in front of him put back the glass into his tunic, sat down in front of him, and went on in the same commonplace voice, “It does not matter whether you realized what has befallen you or not, and I don’t care how it happened, for though none of my staff sees the appositeness of this, I do. This was meant to happen and is one more proof, if I needed one, that I am the one person who really knows and understands the age and epoch in which we are, and through which I am leading all of mankind that counts.
    â€œOnly a few weeks ago I was wondering how I could carry on without endangering unity of command. For the others are only hands, at best. I alone am the head because I alone understand the Revolution. I had to have a substitute head without a brain, a mask so as to be able to duplicate that work which I plan, but, as I cannot carry it all out without fatigue, I cannot actually perform. And, naturally, the people are right—they will have no substitute. That is all you need to know about your general situation. All great central figures get a dummy, if they can, for appearances, when only an appearance and no action is required. But, as usual, I have thought out the matter further. Now speak.”
    â€œIf that is our position and I am your ventriloquist’s dummy, then you must tell me what to say.”
    Evidently his answer did not displease, for without a pause his interlocutor’s voice suddenly swelled, “On this occasion of the anniversary of one more of our new freedoms.…” He repeated the words, and he noticed how closely his voice seemed now to have the coarse, vibrant tone he had just heard, and with which half the world was so familiar.
    â€œYes, I have provided for that. Many of my records are ghost-voiced for me by phonetic experts who train speakers to get the tone. There will be no difficulty in getting your voice in proper pitch and intonation. Now I will take you through your area. You will live in this apartment. Your sleeping cell is here.” He threw open a panel, and a small slip of a room, containing just a bed and chair, with built-in wardrobe, appeared.
    â€œI shall call you whenever I have