"I enjoy listening to the rhythm, life is dependable in here.  The aspirators' wheeze, the cheerful gurgle of drip feeds and the pacemakers' pulsing throbs.  John Seven over there lost his left kidney.  Richard Five next to him is missing his liver.  Janet Two in that next row has half the skin off her face gone.  Yes, the recipients were very grateful."

The caretaker brushed back his straggly long hair and grinned at his visitor.

"Every life function down here is remotely monitored of course.  It’s all under automatic control, I only have to look and listen as a backup."

Slurp . . .  blip . . .  slosh . . .  harhh . . . 

"Look at them.  Rows of healthy vegetables, well preserved and held together, last year's brittle sutures, clips and staples or this years' plastic skin, bone and gristle Bald Boris One over there is the guy who gave me his hair; an experiment they'd never tried before apparently, but I volunteered right away.  It's a perfect match and I didn't feel a thing when they scalped me."

Slurp . . .  blip . . .  slosh . . .  harhh . . .

"It healed up in couple of days too, amazing technique.  But you can see it doesn't quite fit me.  Sometimes it feels a bit loose.  Scalps are tricky things to connect up properly, all those blood vessels.  Look, it's still very neat and not dried up at all around the edges.  His is an even better job, but mine didn't cost me anything so I can't complain, neither can he of course.  Funny thing about him, they said he was some kind of magician, as well as a famous doctor.  I believe he owned this place.  Apart from his work here, he used to perform all kinds of weird tricks at private parties, but never on stage.  Apparently he dabbled in the occult, and made a lot of money as a very expensive medium.  Some people will do anything, and pay good money, to know their future."

The visitor nodded, but remained silent.  The caretaker rattled on.

"Transplant operations can cost a fortune.  Some of these waiting patients are living on interest, awaiting a cure, another matching part, and then a breakthrough operation.  I was fortunate.  Mine cost me nothing.  It's not perfect, but the hair is long and silky and better than what I had before.  Look at his face, that resigned expression; you can tell he misses it."

Slurp . . .  blip . . .  slosh . . .  harhh . . . 

"I do enjoy talking talking about my job, not that I'm lonely here, but apart from the machinery noises, it's nice to have someone to talk back to me occasionally.  I can tell you can't though.  Throat problem perhaps? Waiting to see about some treatment? I didn't notice you come in.  Have you been waiting long?"

The visitor ignored the question and didn’t react.

"Sorry, I forgot you can't talk.  Just nod your head, the usual yes and no movements, when I ask the questions."

Slurp . . .  blip . . .  slosh . . .  harhh . . . 

"Are you a new client?  No? But you can't be a donor, woken up and walking about?"

"No?  Then you must have been here all the time?"

"You have, but where, there's no place to hide in this main area?  Another room perhaps, that special one with the robot surgeon, where he never let me in?"

"No? Then where on earth . . .?"

"What?  Not from earth, you can't mean that?"

"You do?  What the hell do you mean?  Now why are you smiling like that? What are you?  No, you can't answer that.  Are you human?"

The visitor decided it had heard enough.  It began to change, rearing up and hissing horribly, revealing large sharp teeth, and thin wide lips twisted in a hideous grin.  Its eyes reddened, as it opened its claws and struck.

Slurp . . .  blip . . .  slosh . . .  harhh . . .  slurp . . . splat . . .

***

The drug finally wore off and the magician sat up unsteadily.  He blinked a few times then felt and patted his scalp, waving phantom hair from his eyes.  Glancing around, he saw the visitor and gulped.

"I wasn’t trying to fool you.  It was a surgical experiment for an old client.  Some things I have to try myself."  He smiled, nervously.  "But I didn’t expect you yet.  It can’t be time up, I still have another three days to go, right?"

The visitor nodded slowly, then bowed and began to vanish; grinning teeth fading last.

The magician examined the body of the caretaker, for several moments.  The wound wasn’t too severe and the scalp transplant seemed undamaged.  Then he shrugged and began to examine him expertly for signs of life.  Satisfied, he lifted the body on to the operating trolley, where he had been reclining before.  He unlocked its wheels and made his way back to into his laboratory, where he closed and locked the door. 

Panting slightly, he raised and slid the caretaker’s body on to the nearest of the three operating tables. 

For a while he gazed at his reflection in a mirror, then turned to regard his more substantial image on the third operating table.  He examined it closely, then satisfied at last, he switched on the robot surgeon and began to study his programming notes. 

Shortly afterwards, with the remote control unit clutched tightly in his free hand he climbed up on to the centre table.  He relaxed and then pressed the startup button.  The three sets of triple beam lasers, each accurately focused to locate the correct respective points in space, began the initial scanning phase.

"Here goes," he mused, as he activated the anesthetic modes.  "I‘ve no other choice, it's going to have to be my brain transplanted into this idiot, and his into my clone."