“Kathy, are you trying to play hard to get?”

Hart was blinded momentarily by the flood of light. She heard the creature’s snarl and the thump as it hit Mr. Target and tumbled both of them into the main room. She was out of the stall and fumbling for her gun before her eyes adjusted fully. As she found it, the screaming started.

She stepped into the zoom in time to see Mr. Target pull away from the thing. Blood speckled his arm where its hand had held him. The panicked corporate flung a gray pelt at his attacker. It crouched in an easy dodge and uncoiled in a leap onto him. The two of them crashed to the floor. After a short struggle, the thing managed to grab Mr. Target’s head with both of its hands, It got to its knees, then stood, forcing the man to rise with it. His fists pummeled it, but it showed no reaction.

The creature’s skin began to suffuse with pink, and dark stubble appeared on its naked scalp. Bulges rippled under its skin surface like moles burrowing in soft ground, It convulsed once, then its skin tautened as muscles defined themselves where smooth flesh had been a moment before.

Its fingers shifted their grip, leaving red pock marks on the man’s skin wherever they had been. Its thumbs forced his mouth open as the creature extended its startlingly long red tongue. It placed its lips gently on the man’s in an obscene parody of a kiss.

He struggled harder.

Thin, translucent tendrils exuded from the thing’s body. They waved, blind worms groping in the light. Wherever they touched the man’s body, they stuck and burrowed into his flesh. The strands soon tinted pink, then red. The man screamed as if his soul were being sucked from his body.

For all Hart knew, it was. Overcome by the horror, she stumbled back against the wall. As soon as her back touched the smooth surface, her legs gave out, and she slumped to the floor. Stupefied, she stared at the two figures standing locked in malignant embrace.

When the screams stopped, the creature released his victim, who fell backward onto the bed, ripping free from the tendrils that had bound him to it. Those soft, fleshy vessels fell flaccid and were reabsorbed into the thing’s body. It Caressed itself, running newly wrinkled hands over its body. It spun on one foot and flung itself backward onto the bed.

Hart stared at the two figures sprawled across the bed. The mirror above them reflected two faces and two bodies. Them was little to distinguish them. One wore jockey shorts and dark blue socks. The other, flushed with health, was naked. Wilson’s creation had lived up to its billing. It had become a living copy of the man she had led here.

Doppelganger.

That was the name Wilson had given it. A creature that could take on the identity of another. Having seen it perform, she knew that her earlier fear of it was more than justified. She hoped fervently never to become prey to it or any other like it.

She forced herself up, using the wall as a brace. Overriding her knees’ desire to buckle, she warily approached the bed. The doppelganger didn’t move.

The sexless thing was neuter no longer, but emphatically male. Its skin was flushed with blood and its chest rose and fell with its panting. It languidly watched her with half-closed eyes. She stripped the man of his shorts and socks. Not wanting to get close to the doppelganger, she balled up the garments and tossed them.

Its hand flickered up to snatch them out of the air. The somnolent predator sniffed the clothes before letting them fall to its side. It grinned back at her, the ivory ridges behind the lips now differentiated into teeth that she was sure would match its victim’s dental pattern. The stolen face was distorted with a look that was pure perversion.

“Why don’t you stay awhile?” it rasped, sounding like the man might have a sore throat.

“You know the schedule.” At least she hoped it did. The chip emplaced within its datajack was supposed to feed it instructions once the change triggered it.

It just leered at her.

Her skin crawled with disgust. She turned away to hide her reaction. Hart felt its eyes on her as she walked slowly to the bathroom. The sensation was unpleasant wholly unlike the feeling she had felt the last time she had taken that path. She was glad to slip into the coveralls that were in the satchel. Feeling less exposed, she picked up the satchel and re-entered the bedroom.

“All right, Jenny,” She was surprised to hear how steady was her voice Let’s get on with it.”

The ocean on the far wall flickered and went out. The door it had concealed opened, and her ground team emerged from the adjoining suite. They all wore their DocWagon uniforms, Sloan and Black Dog were Picture-perfect DocWagon paramedics, though Greta looked particularly silly in her nurse’s outfit. But then Ork women looked silly in whatever they wore.

Now that she was no longer alone with the doppelganger more of her confidence returned. “Jenny, where’s the air?”

“Kurt’s got the veetole hanging behind the Mitsuhama building.” The tremor in Jenny’s voice told Hart that her decker had seen at least some of the process and was equally affected by the sight. They would have to talk later. Right now, they had the important business of getting out, which Hart was very eager to do.

Greta and Black Dog went right to work putting the man on the collapsible gurney that came out of the Ork’s case. Sloan stood to one side, glancing back and forth between the doppelganger and its victim.

“Pretty good make-up job,” be said to the thing in the bed. “Hardly tell you is an albino.”

“I have some special advantages,” it replied casually. Already its voice Sounded more like its victim’s normal tones.

Sloan chuckled “Yeah, I bet. Hope you pull it off, chummer.”

“Come on, Sloan. Give the others a hand,” Hart snapped. She ignored his scowl and addressed Jenny. “Any traffic in the area?”

“A few private blips, but Lone Star patrols are all elsewhere. All ‘Wagons down or already got passengers.”

“Put out the call. Kurt can move as soon as he gets it. Full sirens. He’s on a mission of mercy, after all.” Hart smiled grimly as she watched them strap the man’s limp body onto the gurney. Operation Turncoat had just passed a major milestone.

With Sloan’s help, she bound her hair quickly and snugged it beneath a soft green cap. After fastening the front of her uniform, she shrugged the strap of the satchel over her shoulder. She, of course, was the doctor.

“All set.”

“Yuh,” Greta replied as she slid the last tongue into the last buckle. “Baby’s ready for his ride.”

“Jenny, lock up here as soon as we’re out. Then you’re riding cover for us.” Hart checked the trideo feed that Jenny had set up to ensure that the hall outside was empty. “All right. Let’s roll.”