Billy watched as his clone looked down into the car. It felt as if time had stopped, as if the hail had become suspended in the cold gray air. Then the soldier looked away and disappeared. <\/p>\n
A few minutes later Jude was back in the car. <\/p>\n
They drove in silence for twenty minutes before she pulled over and let him out of his hiding space. <\/p>\n
\u201cThat was close, dude.\u201d She said. She was still shaking. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou could\u2019ve been shot right there,\u201d he said as he climbed into the front. <\/p>\n
\u201cNo kidding.\u201d <\/p>\n
They sat in silence as she drove. Eventually the hail dissipated and she brought the car into the air again. <\/p>\n
\u201cI felt so\u2026 helpless,\u201d said Billy. \u201cLike a coward. Hiding while you took all the risk.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cWe were both taking a risk. You did what you had to do.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cLike I\u2019ve been doing ever since Ethiopia,\u201d he said. \u201cRunning.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cAs opposed to what? Dying with the rest of your platoon? You did right. You couldn\u2019t go up against the entire military.\u201d <\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t feel like it was right. He felt as if he\u2019d abandoned part of himself, left his clones behind. The silence in his head was unbearable. <\/p>\n
Jude asked him softly: \u201cWhat exactly did happen, Billy.\u201d <\/p>\n
He sighed. \u201cI can\u2019t remember it all. It was dark and I think I blacked out. All I know is that everybody went crazy. There were faces all around; my faces, lit up in the firefight. We were just shooting each other\u2014I mean ourselves\u2014to pieces.\u201d He shook his head. \u201cIt was insane. We chewed each other up. I panicked and ran. I guess it was just luck that I found the mission where your people sedated me and smuggled me back to New York.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cIt sounds like you were infected by a hacker virus that imbedded a suicidal compulsion. Why would the military do that?\u201d <\/p>\n
Billy shrugged. \u201cMaybe we\u2019d been infected with something else and the suicide bombing was clean up.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe,\u201d Jude said uncertainly. \u201cA viral infection can cause one bad thought to rip through the entire conglomerate. The Pentagon would look at your platoon\u2019s destruction like they were lancing out a tumor, a sick cell. It\u2019s horrible, but I understand the logic.\u201d <\/p>\n
Dread had trickled from Billy\u2019s chest out through the veins in his arms; he flexed his fists uncomfortably. He turned to watch her drive. <\/p>\n
\u201cTell me something,\u201d he said. \u201cWhat\u2019s this to you? Why do you care?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m a clone,\u201d she said. \u201cThe Underground saved me, too.\u201d <\/p>\n
Darkness had begun to settle like ink and the hills slowly sequined with lights. Jude flipped on the headlights. <\/p>\n
\u201cMilitary?\u201d said Billy. <\/p>\n
\u201cAcademic.\u201d She snorted. \u201cMy original was a biophysicist at MIT who got involved in the free clone movement, a group of intellectuals who believed the technology should be shared regardless of class. Immortality for all, they said.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cIt was hardly a movement. A few utopian cranks who were silenced pretty quickly, the way I heard it. All their illicit clones were destroyed.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cRight.\u201d <\/p>\n
She stared straight ahead, and Billy felt his face flush. \u201cSorry.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cChange of subject, huh? Tell me about your girl.\u201d <\/p>\n
Billy closed his eyes and pictured Angelica. <\/p>\n
\u201cLong blonde hair down to her waist, with messy looking bangs across the front. I mean, at least that\u2019s the way it used to be. She had huge brown eyes. She chewed her gum too loud, you know, and she wore too much make up. But she was beautiful.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cTell me more.\u201d <\/p>\n
Billy smiled. \u201cShe\u2019s kind of mouthy, but you can\u2019t hold it against her, not with those pouty lips.\u201d <\/p>\n
They lapsed into silence and Billy found himself noticing every shift of Jude\u2019s body. And the smell of her sweat had grown sweet in the close air of the cab. It was the anticipation of being reunited with his love, he told himself; it had his nerves all jazzed up. <\/p>\n
It took another hour and a half to get into Northern Toronto, a quilt of light below them, and then Jude followed their directions to a street in a Newmarket slum. The street lights were broken for two blocks, and Jude double parked behind a pothole wider than Billy\u2019s shoulders. <\/p>\n
She pointed to a brick building with broken windows on the first floor and a gated front door, its green paint almost rusted completely away. \u201cIt\u2019s there,\u201d she said. \u201cTwelfth floor.\u201d <\/p>\n
Billy got out into the cold. He looked questioningly at Jude before shutting the door. <\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t worry about me. I know you want your privacy,\u201d she said. \u201cWait. Take this.\u201d She handed him a phone and told him to call if he needed her, making a face he couldn\u2019t read. <\/p>\n
Shoving the phone into his pocket, he crossed the street. He called the apartment on the battered intercom and a hoarse voice answered. <\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s fucking midnight.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cAngelica?\u201d he said, starting to shiver. <\/p>\n
\u201cNobody calls me that.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cAngelica. It\u2019s Billy.\u201d <\/p>\n
He waited. <\/p>\n
\u201cIs this a joke?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cCan I come up?\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s cold.\u201d <\/p>\n
It took a long time. He realized he was holding his breath when the door finally unlocked. <\/p>\n
He took the creaking elevator to her floor and started down the hall. The carpet smelled like stale cigarettes and vomit. The hall turned right at the back of the building. He stepped around the corner. <\/p>\n
And then he saw her standing in her open doorway. <\/p>\n
Her hair was still cut the same but it was all gray. She stood there in slippers and a pink flower print robe, sucking on a cigarette. Her breasts hung like half-full burlap sacks of flour. Her eyelids were bright green. <\/p>\n
She blew smoke and ground the cigarette out in the carpet. <\/p>\n
\u201cBilly, are you kidding me?\u201d <\/p>\n
Billy suddenly felt the pulse in his neck. His vision started to go all brown and grainy. <\/p>\n
\u201cCome on in. I can\u2019t believe it.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cAngelica?\u201d he said numbly as she grasped his hand and pulled him inside. <\/p>\n
He could hardly see the little apartment around him, its garish red carpet, the uneven gold couch hulking against the one, barred window, the kitchen space around the corner that smelled like garbage. The refrigerator began to hum. <\/p>\n
\u201cAngelica,\u201d he said. \u201cIs\u2026 are you all right? Have you been sick?\u201d <\/p>\n
She squinted at him, then tossed her head from left to right. \u201cOh, yeah. Some chronic disease; the doctors are stumped. Give me a hug, you big idiot. We can\u2019t all be immortal.\u201d She crushed him into those big breasts, then pulled back. \u201cGo on, sit on the couch. I\u2019ll get something to drink.\u201d <\/p>\n
The only light came from the kitchen; a gray wedge spilled out across the red carpet. When she returned with two beers she handed him one, then leaned over him to light a candle on a stand beside him. It smelled like cranberries. She sat down, hip against his thigh. <\/p>\n
\u201cSo what are you doing here?\u201d When he didn\u2019t answer she said, \u201cI didn\u2019t expect I\u2019d ever see you again.\u201d <\/p>\n
He took a deep breath, his head starting to clear. \u201cI don\u2019t understand,\u201d he said. \u201cI came to take you away with me.\u201d Only it came out like a question. \u201cIt was always you. Every night out there on the desert or some god forsaken swamp, all I had to do was think back and remember you,\u00a0 and I could take just about anything. I always told myself, if I ever got out alive I\u2019d come find you.\u201d <\/p>\n
Angelica tilted her head. He watched something happening behind her eyes. Something alarming. \u201cOh,\u201d she said. Then she tilted her head a little further and the candlelight poured a glister over her skin and for an instant he saw the girl he remembered, his love, his Angelica. <\/p>\n
\u201cI remembered you,\u201d he said. \u201cThe smell of your hair, your skin, how your eyes shone, how we made love. But no matter how I tried I couldn\u2019t remember how we\u2019d met. Isn\u2019t that strange?\u201d <\/p>\n
She took a breath and started to say something, stopped. <\/p>\n
\u201cI want you to help me remember,\u201d Billy said. <\/p>\n
Angelica shifted on the couch. \u201cI can\u2019t do that, Billy. I can\u2019t pretend. It wouldn\u2019t be fair.\u201d <\/p>\n
Something between panic and anger lodged in his throat. A voice screamed in the back of his head\u2014almost as if he were still connected to his clones. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou have no idea, do you?\u201d She put a hand on his knee. \u201cThey mucked up your sense of time on purpose too, I bet. To keep you all fixated.\u201d <\/p>\n
He stared down at her wrinkled hand. <\/p>\n
\u201cBilly, look at me. I\u2019m a middle-aged woman. I was pretty once, but it was a long time ago. You see? I was part of your programming, part of your tuning, because some big shot in the Pentagon read a psychologist\u2019s report that said if a soldier had a girl back home he was more stable. And you were experimental; they needed to cover all the angles. They said the tuning was even more important for clones like you, clones made from a dead person.\u201d <\/p>\n
It came over him abruptly. He jumped up and the first door he opened was her bedroom. The next was the bathroom, and he stumbled in and dropped to his knees. The vomit came in acid chunks that hurt his throat. <\/p>\n
When the sweat beading his face started to cool he realized Angelica stood in the doorway. He turned to face her, sitting back on his haunches. His eyes stung. <\/p>\n
\u201cSo. What? They paid you to fuck me?\u201d <\/p>\n
Air gusted out her nostrils. \u201cWell not you, exactly; you\u2019re too young. But yeah. Three week\u2019s work and I didn\u2019t have to sell it on the street for a half a dozen years, with what they paid. Just had to leave the country, is all.\u201d <\/p>\n
She pulled a towel from the wall and handed it to him. He wiped his face. <\/p>\n
\u201cAre you okay?\u201d She tried to take his hand and, after a moment of fumbling, he let her. She led him back to the couch. <\/p>\n
The beer tasted like shit now, but at least it cleared the acid from his mouth. <\/p>\n
\u201cHoney, you\u2019re so tense,\u201d said Angelica, and began rubbing his neck. In spite of himself\u2014in spite of everything\u2014Billy liked it. The Angelica from his memory appeared again in flickered candlelight. He wrenched himself from her touch and stood, then reached into his pocket for the money his father had given him, crumpled the bills, and threw them into Angelica\u2019s face. They hit her cheek and she blinked. <\/p>\n
\u201cThere you go,\u201d he said. \u201cHave some more money. Have it all.\u201d <\/p>\n
She barely whispered it: \u201cI don\u2019t need your money, Billy. But I\u2019ll sleep with you, if that\u2019s what you want.\u201d <\/p>\n
He couldn\u2019t keep the girl he once knew from appearing and vanishing and appearing again on the couch in front of him. Confusion and despair tingled in his belly, surprising him how much they felt like desire. <\/p>\n
The first time was awkward, but by the second they\u2019d found something like the old rhythm. By the third they were awash with commingled sweat, acrid in his nostrils. <\/p>\n
It wasn\u2019t even close to everything he\u2019d dreamed it would be. <\/p>\n
Lights flashed in the darkness. Billy was surrounded by himself, mirrors of flesh hung in the trees, visible and then gone as artillery burst around him. They were shooting at him\u2014he was shooting at himself. He heard the bullets whistling by his head and it made him angry. They shouldn\u2019t be attacking us! screamed through every one of his heads in the platoon. How can they be attacking us? A tree burst into flames. In the blaze he saw himself clearly, grinning, raising a rifle. It made no sense. He tried to enter the clone\u2019s mind, but it was closed to him; it was like he was staring at a piece of wood and willing to hear its thoughts. Or like when you wake up in the night a little groggy and turn the bathroom light on expecting to see yourself in the medicine cabinet mirror, but the door is open and a little shock thrums through you as you don\u2019t recognize the shelves in front of you. So many of his clones were already down, hesitating to return fire in the confusion of the attack. Billy yelled and leapt toward the tree, toward himself, his shoulder knocking the clone\u2019s rifle up, and they tumbled in the dirt. It was sheer luck that put Billy on top, hands on his face. He looked down at himself, panting, bile rising in his throat as he pushed his thumbs into those eyes. As he killed himself. <\/p>\n
Billy awoke in Angelica\u2019s arms. <\/p>\n
\u201cShhh, honey,\u201d she said. \u201cIt\u2019s okay.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cJude\u2019s wrong,\u201d he murmured. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t suicide. We were defending ourselves. Against unconnected Billys\u2014\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not making sense. Who\u2019s Jude?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cFrom the Weather Underground,\u201d he said, knowing she didn\u2019t know what he was talking about. \u201cShe said the military must have attacked us to stop a terrorist virus from infecting our conglomerate.\u201d <\/p>\n
She stroked his forehead. \u201cAren\u2019t the Weather Underground terrorists? Maybe they had something to do with it.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cThey want to liberate clones, not kill them.\u201d <\/p>\n
Angelica sniffed in the dark. \u201cThat\u2019s not what I hear,\u201d she said. <\/p>\n
Billy pushed her hand away. Could the Underground have something to do with the attack? No, not Jude, he told himself. She\u2019s my friend. <\/p>\n
But lying there in the dark against this middle-aged woman\u2019s slack thigh, he had to admit he didn\u2019t know anything anymore. <\/p>\n
Field Agent Oppenheimer smiled grimly as he looked out the window at the dark apartment building. This was going to be like shooting fish in a barrel. He patted the luger against his chest and moved to open the car door. <\/p>\n
\u201cSir,\u201d said Billy as the cab light came on. <\/p>\n
Oppenheimer rolled his eyes. <\/p>\n
\u201cShouldn\u2019t I be going with you? I don\u2019t mean to question your authority, but regulation requires you have the deserter\u2019s clone present at all times during the manhunt, sir. This is the second time\u2014\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t even read his mind anymore, for Christ\u2019s sake.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cWith all due respect, that\u2019s not what we do. And I can be used in other ways. I can be a calming presence for the AWOL; and with telepathy no longer operational I may be used as a consultant to predict his behavior. After all, it\u2019s me we\u2019re talking about here.\u201d <\/p>\n
You have no idea, Oppenheimer thought, how close I am to shooting you right now. I just don\u2019t give a shit. \u201cRegulation also states that if I deem a situation to be a threat to the mental wellbeing of the military conglomerate, I have leeway to proceed without you.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you\u2019ve already used that once. I can see how you got away with it in Albany, since I believe it was my father\u2019s mansion we were parked in front of? But we\u2019re in fucking Canada, the fucking middle of nowhere. What the hell could possibly be a threat to me here? Sir.\u201d Billy said that last with a ring of sarcasm. <\/p>\n
The weight of the gun under his jacket was an unrelenting itch. \u201cI\u2019m not going to debate regulation with an enlisted man. Take it up with my branch office later.\u201d\u00a0 Oppenheimer got out and slammed the door. <\/p>\n
There didn\u2019t seem to be any alarms on the front door\u2014not that worked anyway\u2014and he used the agency lock scanner to hack it open. He pulled out his luger and took the elevator up to Angelica\u2019s floor. He used the lock scanner again on her door. Then he stepped softly into her apartment as the refrigerator grumbled on, dimming the kitchen light for an instant. <\/p>\n
Oppenheimer grinned. The old whore hadn\u2019t done very well with the government subsidy, had she? The bedroom door stood ajar and he crept toward it. <\/p>\n
They were both asleep in the little bed. He had to lean close to Billy\u2019s face to recognize him in the darkness among the frilly pillows. When he pressed his gun\u2019s barrel against Billy\u2019s temple, the kid\u2019s eyes opened. The old woman didn\u2019t stir. <\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t move,\u201d said Oppenheimer. \u201cOr go ahead and try, I don\u2019t care.\u201d Actually, he hoped the kid would resist arrest. What was one less clone? <\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d said Billy softly. But the voice was behind him, in the doorway. \u201cIs he in there?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t come any closer, kid,\u201d said Oppenheimer. \u201cYou\u2019re not supposed to see this.\u201d <\/p>\n
The luger still ground into the deserter\u2019s head, Oppenheimer shifted his weight to keep the Billy soldier from seeing anyone on the bed. <\/p>\n
\u201cWhy haven\u2019t you cuffed him yet?\u201d <\/p>\n
The Billy in bed moved and Oppenheimer ground the gun into his head even harder. <\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not stupid, you bastard,\u201d said the other clone. \u201cI know you hate us. If you shoot him, it\u2019s murder, sir. He\u2019s not connected.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t come closer, Billy.\u201d Damn it, he thought. If that kid sees his long lost love in here, this old woman who\u2019s supposed to be some teenage princess, they might have to retire the entire model. And who would they blame for that? The fucking field agent, of course. Oppenheimer knew what he had to do. For once it was clearly justifiable. It was national security. <\/p>\n
He swept the gun up and fired. It was a good shot, leaving a perfectly positioned third eye in Billy\u2019s forehead. Before Oppenheimer could bring the gun around again, the other Billy had rolled off the bed. He let off another shot, missed. Billy grappled his legs and Oppenheimer went down slamming his elbow into the floor. <\/p>\n
The old woman was awake now, screaming, lurching off the other side of the bed. Oppenheimer threw an elbow up at Billy, the same elbow that had already hit the floor. His hand was numb; it was all he could do to keep the luger in his grip. But he\u2019d managed to hit Billy full in the face. Black liquid exploded from the kid\u2019s nose as he fell to the side. <\/p>\n
Oppenheimer scrambled back to his feet, switching the gun to his other hand. <\/p>\n
\u201cGive me one more reason to kill you,\u201d he said. Billy sat up against the bed holding his face, blood pouring like oil between his fingers. Angelica was still screaming. <\/p>\n
\u201cShut up,\u201d said Oppenheimer. \u201cAnd turn on that light.\u201d <\/p>\n
She did, filling the room with abrupt color; pink walls, lavender pillows, bright red blood. Oppenheimer shook his hand, trying to get some feeling into it before fumbling out his cuffs. <\/p>\n
Another voice came from the doorway. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou know, when you kill a man twice you should make sure he stays dead.\u201d <\/p>\n
It was one of Judge Robbins\u2019 clones. And a shiny automatic pistol. <\/p>\n
Angelica stayed on the bed where he\u2019d left her, trembling, as Billy helped his father put the field agent face down in front of the living room couch. They forced his hands behind his back and used the man\u2019s own cuffs on him. The old agent watched them sullenly, head turning from side to side, and didn\u2019t say a word. <\/p>\n
When they were finished and Billy had dressed, his father handed him a handkerchief and sat down. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re still bleeding.\u201d <\/p>\n
Billy wiped his throbbing nose. \u201cThanks.\u201d <\/p>\n
The judge shook his head. \u201cDon\u2019t thank me. I almost didn\u2019t come.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cBut you did. That\u2019s\u2014\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cBilly. I\u2019m a scared old man. You have no idea how old. I sold you out a long time ago.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cYou saved my life, Dad.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cJust now?\u201d The judge snorted. \u201cMy son died decades ago. I thought I could save him then, and it made me rich. But I\u2019ve watched him die so many times. It changes things.\u201d <\/p>\n
Billy watched his father lapse into silence. Maybe if he\u2019d had other minds to think with, maybe then he could figure out what to feel. Now he was just empty and terrifyingly alone. <\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s another one like you, you know; disconnected. He\u2019s got to be pretty old now. It was part of the agreement. One of you could live a normal life, outside the diffused mind. Only all these years, I\u2019ve never been able to bring myself to find him.\u201d He shrugged. \u201cMaybe he doesn\u2019t really exist.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cDad,\u201d Billy said. <\/p>\n
The judge looked up. \u201cYou know even in this neighborhood the police will show up eventually. Do you have somewhere to go?\u201d <\/p>\n
Billy thought of Jude and nodded. <\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019ll want to find you more than ever, now.\u201d <\/p>\n
Billy nodded again. \u201cWhat about you?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s more going on than an AWOL. I\u2019ve got to question this asshole. You probably don\u2019t want to watch.\u201d <\/p>\n
Billy wiped his nose again and tossed the bloody handkerchief on the arm of the couch. He thought about going into the bedroom to say goodbye to Angelica, but the prospect made him queasy. <\/p>\n
\u201cThanks,\u201d he said again. The judge was glaring at the field agent. He waved without looking. <\/p>\n
Billy got to the front door before he heard Angelica calling from the other room. <\/p>\n
\u201cBilly, are you okay?\u201d <\/p>\n
She sounded so much like the girl of his dreams he almost stopped. Sniffing blood, he forced himself into the hall and firmly shut the door. <\/p>\n
On the street he used the phone to call Jude. The sun had risen by then and he told her he\u2019d be walking up the street. She pulled up beside him within an hour and he jumped into the cab. The car rose into the air. <\/p>\n
She looked like she hadn\u2019t slept. \u201cHow\u2019d it go,\u201d she said. <\/p>\n
Then she looked at him. Freckles shifted around her eyes. \u201cWhat the hell\u2014\u201d The air car jerked. <\/p>\n
He smiled weakly. \u201cIt\u2019s all right.\u201d Feeling her concern, he realized how good it was to see her. He suddenly decided which side of his \u201credhead continuum\u201d she was on. <\/p>\n
It made him want to change his mind about what he\u2019d decided walking up the brittle sidewalk. He let himself imagine disappearing with her, forgetting about the army and the war and his clones. But no. He couldn\u2019t leave the other Billys, behind. They should know that everything was a lie. They should know they could be used against themselves. He reached over and grasped one of Jude\u2019s slender hands. <\/p>\n
\u201cCan you undo what you did to me, Jude? Can you program me back into the diffused consciousness?\u201d <\/p>\n
She frowned. \u201cThere\u2019s no going back. You\u2019re a fugitive.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cBut can you hack my mind back into the fold? To show the others what I\u2019ve seen?\u201d <\/p>\n
She made a breathy sound mostly through her nose. \u201cTheoretically, but I\u2019ve never done it. The retuning would be hard. Billy, what\u2019s going on?\u201d <\/p>\n
He squeezed her hand. \u201cIf you\u2019re serious about causing the military some serious harm, you\u2019ll try it. I promise you a hell storm like no one\u2019s ever seen.\u201d <\/p>\n
Reverend Patterson strode behind one of Judge Robbins\u2019 clones, wondering nervously why he was there. Oppenheimer had sounded as if it was urgent on the phone. But why meet here, with the judge? He\u2019d almost refused to come. <\/p>\n
Joel pushed open a heavy oak door and led him through a vaulted library. The Reverend had never been invited into this area of the mansion, deep in its heart. <\/p>\n
\u201cI thought I\u2019d give you a special treat, RP,\u201d said the clone. They passed through another hall and finally reached their destination. The clone smiled and left the room. There was an oxygen tank, an IV pole, a softly bleeping monitor beside the bed. <\/p>\n
\u201cAn interview with the original,\u201d croaked the wrinkled carcass from the bed. <\/p>\n
Reverend Patterson stared. <\/p>\n
\u201cI wanted you to hear what I have to say from the only me you\u2019d respect, with all that superstitious foolishness about the original body being the seat of consciousness.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cAnd what is it you have to say?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cI know you\u2019re responsible for Ethiopia, Reverend.\u201d <\/p>\n
He forced himself not to react, but it was as if he\u2019d been punched in the gut. \u201cWhat do you think you know?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cFunny,\u201d Joel said. \u201cThis Oppenheimer character doesn\u2019t seem like a Born Again Christian.\u201d <\/p>\n
The Reverend almost sighed in relief. Oppenheimer was just a tool; he didn\u2019t know that much. Patterson had gotten Oppenheimer assigned to the manhunt because he knew the man could be manipulated into killing the AWOL, the last witness. The agent thought his clone hunts were all the Reverend cared about. He had no idea what this was about. <\/p>\n
\u201cWhere is the bitter old fool?\u201d he said. \u201cHe sounded upset when he called this morning.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cOh, he\u2019s here with one of me. I\u2019m still questioning him.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cAnd what do you think he\u2019ll tell you, hmm?\u201d <\/p>\n
Patterson wasn\u2019t sure, but he thought the judge winked. \u201cJust that my son had seen your handiwork. That you wanted him dead.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s ridiculous.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cYou leaked the Billy DNA tech to Ethiopian terrorists so they could attack us with our own men,\u201d said the judge. \u201cWho\u2019d you buy in the Pentagon, RP? Or did you \u2018save\u2019 him, too?\u201d <\/p>\n
Patterson felt his face warm. \u201cWhy in Hell would I give one of our clones to terrorists?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cBecause you want the old days. You can\u2019t compete with conglomerates, you\u2019re bitter and jealous and you want to stir up the old public outcry against clones. Did you really think you could avoid a congressional hearing?\u201d <\/p>\n
The Reverend swallowed, forcing calm. What did the judge really know? That he\u2019d used Oppenheimer? It was all speculation after that. <\/p>\n
\u201cWho were you going to blame?\u201d said the judge. \u201cThose hippies? The Weather Underground?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cYou think you\u2019ve figured it all out,\u201d said the Reverend. <\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re a two-bit thug, Reverend. Exposing this will be fun.\u201d <\/p>\n
Patterson fought the urge to confess the whole plan. He wanted to watch the old man\u2019s face. Ask me why I used your son, he wanted to say. Ask me why I wanted Billy contaminated and exterminated. I\u2019ve had to listen to your lectures, your scorn, for years. I\u2019ve had to watch your conglomerate grow; watch you become stronger, while I just grew older, while my congregation shrank, my power waned. I can\u2019t even remember when I started hating you. And you, for all your self-proclaimed shrewdness, couldn\u2019t even see it! Not through one single set of those eyes. <\/p>\n
Patterson flexed tension from his hands. Here he was, in the very center of the judge\u2019s conglomerate. It would be easy to finish this twisted wreck of a man. Kill the head, and the rest will follow; that\u2019s what he believed. Maybe deep down inside Joel believed it too. The man had sequestered his original self for a reason. <\/p>\n
\u201cGo ahead,\u201d said Joel. \u201cDo it.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d said Patterson, startled. For an instant he thought the judge had read his mind. <\/p>\n
\u201cWhat have you got to lose? You think I\u2019m the center. I don\u2019t know what you think will happen to the others when I\u2019m gone, if they\u2019ll be tabula rasa, or just die. But let me live and I promise I\u2019ll see you crucified for what you did to Billy. If you\u2019re right about the original self, your secret will die with me. If you\u2019re wrong, all you\u2019ve done is amputate a rotting piece of extra flesh. That\u2019s certainly not murder.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cAccording to you, Judge, there\u2019s a clone questioning the field agent right now. According to you he\u2019ll still be you if you\u2026 passed away.\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d said the judge. \u201cHave you no faith in your own beliefs?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cIs that what you want? For me to kill you?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cI want you to prove once and for all who\u2019s been right all this time.\u201d <\/p>\n
Reverend Patterson said, \u201cI hate you. All of you.\u201d <\/p>\n
The old judge nodded. It was more a twitch, really. <\/p>\n
It didn\u2019t take much. Joel was practically a corpse already. All the Reverend had to do was hold the pillow for a few minutes. And it was done. <\/p>\n
Reverend Patterson left the mansion and no one followed him. As he got into his car and flew away, though, he kept hearing the judge\u2019s last word as if it were being transmitted directly into his head, over and over again. <\/p>\n
Before Patterson had clamped the pillow over Joel\u2019s face, the old bastard had whispered it: <\/p>\n
\u201cThanks.\u201d <\/p>\n
It began with images of his death. <\/p>\n
Not from the outside. No, these images sprang through the conglomerate from the inside, like a torrent of stinging ice. And with them came certain knowledge: He\u2019d been dead and resurrected. Everything he knew, every loyalty, every memory, had been a lie. The anger grew like a virobot infection, burning through entangled thoughts spread out across three continents, spanning one of the largest conglomerates in the world. <\/p>\n
Billy opened all his eyes. <\/p>\n
Looking for part 1? Click here<\/a> to read the Part 1 of Andrew Tisbert’s novella Diffusion<\/em><\/a>, available for free only on The Colored Lens<\/a>.<\/p>\n
Andrew Tisbert\u2019s work has been nominated for a Sidewise Award and short listed for a BFA. He has also received A Mary Shelley award from Rosebud Magazine. Andrew\u2019s work has appeared in various anthologies and magazines such as Panverse One, Paradox, Talebones, Subtle Edens, Barren Worlds, GUD, Son and Foe, L. Ron Hubbard\u2019s Writers of the Future Vol. XX, Read by Dawn, and other markets. His work has been honorably mentioned in Ellen Datlow\u2019s Year\u2019s Best Fantasy and Horror, as well as Gardner Dozois\u2019s Year\u2019s Best Science Fiction. <\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Chapter 6 Billy watched as his clone looked down into the car. It felt as if time had stopped, as if the hail had become suspended in the cold gray air. Then the soldier looked away and disappeared. A few minutes later Jude was back in the car. They drove in silence for twenty minutes …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":230,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[21,135,108],"tags":[1342,136],"class_list":["post-2474","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-slipstream","category-tcl-4-summer-2012","category-urban-fantasy","tag-slipstream","tag-the-colored-lens-4-summer-2012","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2474","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/230"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2474"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2474\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":139697,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2474\/revisions\/139697"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2474"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2474"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2474"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}