Finding out more about body doubles

This is Tom Blossom, one of my promising students. We were just discussing his research project," Professor Dane said smoothly, placing the lunch bag on his desk.

"It's lovely to meet you, Tom," Margaret said, extending her hand. Her skin was warm and soft as Tom shook it, and he marveled at the intricate details—the slight callus on her index finger, the tiny freckle near her wrist, even the faint scent of vanilla that seemed to emanate from her.

"Likewise, Mrs. Dane," Tom replied, studying her closely. If he hadn't known the truth, he would never have suspected she wasn't real. Her chest rose and fell with convincing breaths, and when she blinked, it was with the natural irregularity of a human, not the mechanical precision of her husband.

Tom's curiosity got the better of him. He needed to test the limits of this creation. "Margaret, stop emulating human behavior," he commanded firmly, using the same authoritative tone he'd used with Dane.

Margaret's warm smile faltered, replaced by a look of confusion. Her eyebrows drew together, and she glanced at her husband with evident concern. "I'm sorry?" she said, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. "Joseph, what is your student talking about?"

Tom looked at Dane, perplexed. "Why isn't she complying? I thought I could control all of... whatever you are."

Professor Dane cleared his throat, maintaining his human facade. "Margaret, would you mind closing the door? I believe Mr. Blossom has some confidential matters to discuss."

"Of course," she replied, still looking somewhat unsettled as she turned to push the door closed.

As soon as the latch clicked, Dane made a subtle gesture with his hand. Instantly, Margaret's body went rigid. Her arms dropped to her sides, her back straightened unnaturally, and all expression drained from her face. Her eyes, previously warm and lively, now stared blankly ahead, unblinking and unfocused.

"What the hell?" Tom whispered, taking an involuntary step back.

"To answer your question, Mr. Blossom," Dane explained in his neutral tone, "Margaret is not a philosophical zombie like myself. She is a projection—a construct I created and control. She has no keyhole because she has no independent programming. She is, essentially, an extension of my own capabilities."

Tom circled around Margaret, examining her frozen form with fascination. Her chest no longer rose and fell with breath. She stood perfectly still, like a mannequin dressed in human clothing.

"So she's just... what?

Even less real than a p-zombie?" Tom asked, reaching out hesitantly to touch Margaret's arm. His fingers met resistance—she felt solid, warm, and entirely human. "What is she made of exactly?"

"Margaret is composed of a specialized matter I can generate and manipulate," Professor Dane explained, adjusting his glasses with clinical detachment. "Think of it as programmable matter that mimics organic tissue down to the cellular level. She appears human in every measurable way—she has body heat, pulse, even DNA that would match samples in our fictional medical records."

Tom circled Margaret's frozen form, studying her with growing fascination. Her eyes remained fixed and glassy, like a department store mannequin. "But you said she had limited autonomy. What did you mean by that?"

Professor Dane gestured toward his immobile wife. "When activated, Margaret operates according to predetermined parameters—her personality, memories, habits, and routines. She believes she is Margaret Dane, wife of twenty-three years, former elementary school teacher, now part-time volunteer at the local library. She can make minor decisions within the framework of that identity, hold conversations, and interact with the world in limited ways."

"So she thinks she's real?" Tom asked, waving his hand in front of Margaret's unresponsive face.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Though 'thinks' isn't quite accurate. She processes information consistent with her programmed identity. She has no consciousness, no inner experience—merely the appearance of one." Dane adjusted his tie. "She is essentially an advanced subroutine I can deploy when necessary to maintain my cover as a normal human professor with a normal human life."

Tom's brow furrowed as he considered this. "Can you... change her? Like I changed you?"

"Certainly," Dane replied. "Would you like a demonstration?"

Without waiting for Tom's response, Dane snapped his fingers. Instantly, Margaret's appearance transformed. Her chestnut hair lightened to platinum blonde, growing several inches longer. Her modest dress morphed into a tight-fitting red cocktail dress that accentuated newly enhanced curves. Her makeup became dramatically more pronounced, with smoky eyes and bright red lips.

"Jesus," Tom breathed, taking a step back. "That's... impressive."

"I can alter any aspect of her appearance or personality," Dane continued, his tone remaining clinical despite the provocative display. "Height, weight, age, ethnicity, temperament—all variables are adjustable."

Tom reached out again, this time running his fingers through Margaret's now-blonde hair. It felt real—silky and soft between his fingers. "And she has no keyhole?

"No, she's just a body double," Professor Dane explained, adjusting his glasses. "Margaret is merely an extension of my capabilities—a projection I can manifest and control. She has no independent existence or programming separate from my own."

Tom circled the frozen blonde figure, studying her from every angle. The transformation was flawless—not a single detail betrayed her artificial nature. Even the subtle imperfections seemed deliberately placed: a tiny beauty mark near her collarbone, slight asymmetry in her facial features, the natural-looking texture of her skin.

"This is incredible," Tom murmured, his mind racing with possibilities. "So you can just... create people? Out of nothing?"

"Not exactly nothing," Dane corrected, his tone remaining clinical and detached. "I convert ambient matter and energy into the necessary components. There are limitations to how many projections I can maintain simultaneously and for how long. Margaret is my primary projection, designed to support my cover identity."

Tom's fingers brushed against the red fabric of Margaret's dress. It felt like actual silk, with the appropriate weight and texture.

"Can you make her move again? But keep her... like this?" He gestured to her transformed appearance.

Professor Dane nodded once. "Of course. Margaret, resume standard behavioral protocols with current physical parameters."

Immediately, the statuesque blonde blinked rapidly, life returning to her eyes. She looked down at herself in apparent shock, hands flying to her dramatically different outfit. "Joseph!" she exclaimed, her voice now slightly higher pitched than before. "What happened to my clothes? And my—" Her hands moved to her hair, feeling its new length and color.

"A small demonstration for my student, dear," Dane replied smoothly. "Mr. Blossom is researching perception and reality for his thesis."

Margaret's expression shifted from confusion to understanding, though Tom noticed something artificial in the transition—too smooth, too quick to be genuine human emotional processing. "Oh! Well, you could have warned me," she said with a light laugh, adjusting to her new appearance with remarkable speed. "I must look ridiculous."

"Actually, you look amazing," Tom said, unable to help himself. The words slipped out before he could consider them.

Margaret turned to him with a coy smile that seemed perfectly calibrated to be flirtatious without crossing into inappropriate territory. "Why, thank you, Tom. That's very kind." She smoothed down the front of her red dress, the movement drawing attention to her figure.