Reverse

by Steven Tandberg

  “Where did you get this?” asked Stefan behind us. He had noticed the cell jammer on Jamie’s wrist as we walked down the hallway.

  “Roxanne gave it to me when Coyle and I were headed into town. It’s to keep me from flipping out.”

  Stefan’s eyes widened, and his jaw clenched. He tried to sound unconcerned, “Oh, Jamie, we’ve better cell jammers than that one. Here, let’s swap it out. The one we have wraps around your thigh.” He glared at me. I understood his anger, how could we trust Roxanne and her crew when they’re taking orders from a company that likely is just as evil as Somatotech?

  I mouthed the word “sorry” and Stefan disappeared into the house with Jamie.

  The Doña led me into my room, down the hatch, and into the monitoring room. She flipped open a small laptop, and the screen instantly turned on displaying a login screen. She noticed the concern that grew on my face. “Angelfire has ensured me this is untraceable. Relax, my friend.”

  She returned to the laptop and with a few clicks she pulled up a page from The Atlantic with the headline, “Winning the fight against cancer. Dr. Tessel, the soon-to-be Nobel laureate.”

  “Dang. You gotta be kidding me,” I said, scanning the page for more details.

  “No kid, in four weeks that man will claim medicine’s greatest prize. But,” She placed her hand on my shoulder, “you, the savior, will bring him down before this atrocity can occur, right?”

  “Doña, don’t call me the savior. I’m not that … at times I think I’m more a threat than a savior.”

  “You’ll become a savior, Coyle. Your heart will lead you there, I promise.”

  My heart? All I knew and all I could feel was a deep urge to destroy Somatotech. If that makes me a savior, then so be it.

  Stefan approached me as I emerged from the trap door in my room. A computer chip and wires dangled from his hand.

  He didn’t need to tell me, I recognized it as a GPS device. Roxanne had tracked us through the cell jammer she’d given Jamie.

  “Do we need more evidence, Coyle?” he said and tossed me the components while we walked toward the front door.

  “No, we don’t. I know they have their own goals, but we need them to hit Somatotech, it has to be coordinated. We’ll use them for that purpose and then discard them.”

  As if on cue, Roxanne strolled into the hacienda before we could exit.

  “You may find this interesting,” she said and handed Stefan a single sheet of paper.

  He hesitated for a moment before snapping it out of her hand. His eyes scanned down the sheet and widened reflexively.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s… it’s a list of the top scientists at Somatotech.”

  “So? We already know many of them.”

  “It has their home addresses, email addresses, their phone numbers, family members’ names, past employers, aye dios mio.”

  “How?” I glanced at Roxanne before ripping the paper from Stefan’s hands.

  “We’ve had surveillance on the entire company, from the custodial staff to Dr. Tessel himself for over a year. They’ve tried to hide their scientists, but everyone needs fresh air once in a while. We made sure to be there when they did.”

  “Why are you giving us this now?”

  “Sorry for the delay, my friends. We had to verify each one before passing it on to you. Coyle, we’re on the same mission, we hope sharing information between us and you will become more frequent.”

  “We’re glad to have you on board. Thank you for this.” I raised up the paper.

  “We’re not done, clone of Coyle. Take a look outside.” She turned and walked out of the kitchen. We followed her out and as soon as we opened the door Stefan’s mouth dropped open.

  Laid out on two large white sheets were thirty weapons, ranging from knives to fully automatic rifles. Our men hovered around the sheets, gawking at the gleaming arsenal.

  “Compliments of our benefactor,” said Roxanne with a wide grin. Aedan came up from behind and laid a few more rifles on the sheet. Striker and Jarom sauntered up with boxes of ammunition.

  “Why? We have a safe full of weapons,” asked Stefan.

  “It won’t be enough, Stefan,” said Roxanne. “I promise. You’re declaring war with Somatotech, so you’ll need an arsenal to match. Besides, clones don’t go down like normal humans. You’ll need some very specialized equipment to take them out.”

  One of our men picked up a specialized M16s and inspected the scope.

  “Put that down,” Stefan yelled and grabbed the weapon from his hands.

  “But, Stefan, shouldn’t we accept this great gift?” he asked.

  Many of the men nodded in agreement, and Stefan shot a look at me. If I rejected the gift, I would demonstrate strength and alienate Roxanne. If I accepted it, I would make the men trust Roxanne and her crew and potentially bring on unnecessary risk. I knew what Stefan wanted me to do, but I just couldn’t. Roxanne saved Jamie, helped me rip free of Manuel’s clutches and aided in rescuing Coyle’s dad. It was obvious I needed them, we all needed them.

  “Thank you, Roxanne, these will be put to good use,” I said and lifted up one of the tactical knives. The men in turn picked up the weapons and inspected them eagerly.

  “Our pleasure.” She bowed to me and then raised her voice, “but Coyle, we need to talk about our mission, the one you promised to help us with.”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ve got a few things to take care of right now, but I’ll find you.”

  Everyone stared at me, even my own men, not satisfied with my response.

  “I’ll go in his stead,” Aedan spoke up.

  “No, Aedan, c’mon—”

  “We’d be happy to have you,” said Roxanne, interrupting me.

  Striker glanced at Jarom and furrowed his brow. Red Cloud smirked.

  “That’s so freakin’ stupid, dude. Do ya think your mom or your sister would want you to risk your life like that?”

  “Stupid? Really, Coyle? Stupid is you selecting who can and cannot fight. Besides, you know my mom doesn’t give a crap what I do.”

  “Dude, think of the pain they’d feel if you died. Remember what that’s like? To have someone you love taken from you because of their stupid, irrational, self-destructive behavior?”

  Aedan stared at me with his eyes fixed. They began to gloss over, and his nostrils flared. He knew who I meant. His father, the junkie who died from AIDS contracted from a dirty needle, left his family by his own doing.

  “I’m gonna walk away now before I deck you, Coyle.”

  I opened my mouth to shut his but thought better. I knew the rage I held inside would be unleashed if I allowed it.

  Roxanne nodded to me, interlocked her arm in Aedan’s, and pulled him down to the guesthouse.

  Everyone shot their eyes to the ground except for Jamie. She came over to me and wrapped her arms around my waist.

  “You’re right, Coyle. He’s being reckless. But, you proving it won’t change his mind.”

  “What can I do?” I asked Jamie.

  “I’m not sure you can do anything now. He’s going on that mission no matter what you say.”

  “Then I have to convince Roxanne our plan is better,” I said, knowing that would be nearly impossible.

  “Good luck with that,” Stefan interjected.

  I shook my head and rubbed my temples to relieve the building headache. “Men, gather these weapons and haul them to our armory.” A few of them jumped into action, hefting multiple weapons into their arms. “Check each of them for trackers, though,” I said, flipping the knife in my hand.

  “We should see if the Doña has a camera we could use for our little exposé video,” I said to Jamie after we returned to the hacienda.

  We found the Doña in the kitchen, and she led us into the map room. There she set up a small digital video camera pointing at a dark blue sheet hanging from the ceiling. Two stools stood in front of the screen.

  “OK, my budding movie
stars, do you a have script?”

  We had reviewed each of our parts on the drive back to the hacienda after my conversation with Gary Middleton. Jamie directed most of it, just like she had with our project on DNA before the diagnosis. Except that was with the real Coyle, not me, not his copy. I had to keep reminding myself that the memories I have from before were implanted; they weren’t my own.

  Jamie sat down in front of the corner and took a deep breath. Her eyes glazed as if she were about to cry, but she suppressed it with a quick breath and put on a determined face. She nodded and the Doña pressed record.

  For a moment, she just stared at the lens reflecting back at her. Her eyes flicked to me and then back to the camera. “My name is Jamie Anderson,” she said with a clear voice, “You may recognize me as the girl kidnaped a month ago. I know there has been an exhaustive search for me, for which I am grateful. The truth is I was kidnaped, but not by Coyle Murray, but by Somatotech, the company that treated my boyfriend. They kidnaped me as they wanted to capture Coyle because he was close to exposing them for what they are. Today, I’m safe because of Coyle. I’m at an undisclosed location, known only to those who protect me, and now I would like to introduce you to someone.”

  I walked in front of the camera and sat down next to Jamie.

  “I’m not who you think I am. I call myself Coyle, but I am not him. Somatotech cloned Coyle to make me. They cloned many of the cancer patients they claimed to treat. Dr. Tessel and Somatotech don’t cure cancer; they replace the patient. I went under extensive subconscious and conscious training to assume Coyle’s life. They may claim Coyle’s twin committed crimes and die in prison, but I am here to tell you the truth. He was another clone, a clone trained to kill.

  “Somatotech doesn’t work alone. The United States Army not only funds a large portion of their operations, but also participates in the training of the clones. A Col. Stevens personally taught me how to use many different firearms.

  “We need your help to bring to light these atrocities. Dr. Tessel will be receiving the Nobel Prize in medicine soon after this video is released. At the same time, we are releasing a report written by the late Dr. Strayer, Coyle’s oncologist, detailing the US Army’s connection with Somatotech. Me, Coyle’s clone, I will give myself up at that ceremony.”

  Jamie shot me a look but returned her gaze to the camera.

  I continued, “Please join us as a united voice against Dr. Tessel and Somatotech. Soon, a journalist will release an expose with concrete evidence of Somatotech’s wrongdoings. We’ve also started a petition to urge all applicable organizations to investigate Somatotech and Dr. Tessel.”

  The movie faded to black.

  Jamie’s eyes had fury in them, and she raised her hand to slap me. She held back knowing it wouldn’t connect. “Turn yourself in? What are you talking about?”

  “The world will need verification, physical evidence of Somatotech’s crime. I’m that evidence.”

  “We’ve got plenty of evidence, Coyle. What about that picture you took with the clone? What about Dr. Strayer’s report? And, and this video! That’s plenty, Coyle. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself. Don’t be that guy. The guy who needs to lose.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You feel like you have to feel pain, to lose, to make up for the pain we’ve all felt.”

  I couldn’t speak. She’d hit it spot on. I did feel responsible for the suffering, but I knew it wasn’t all my fault. What about Coyle’s dad? What about the pastor? They’d set this all in motion by giving up Coyle to Somatotech’s treatment. The difference was that I could actually do something about it; I’m the evidence, the proof of their dealings. So, yeah, I’d bear that burden and take the fall.

  Jamie stared at me, and I stared back. We understood each other at that moment. I knew she was right, and she knew that I’d made up my mind.

  “The path we’re on now Coyle will end with me losing you, you know that, right? That’s your choice!” Her eyes beamed up at me.

  “You can’t say that. We don’t know where it will lead,” I said.

  She feigned a slight smile and cast her eyes down. I grasped her shoulders and gave a light squeeze.

  “Coyle, you’re leading yourself down this path.”

  “Good! Jamie, I’m not trapped by some presumed purpose. My life has no purpose. I’m not even supposed to exist.”

  “Don’t talk like that, Coyle; we all have a purpose in this life.”

  “I agree, you all do.” I motioned to her and the Doña. “Humans born naturally probably do, some divine purpose set up before this world was, but I’m not one of you. I’m a clone. I can determine my own purpose, my own fate.”

  The Doña walked over to me, rested her warm hand on my shoulder and let out a sustained breath before speaking quietly, “And what do you choose?”

  “You’ve said it before, and now I’ve chosen to accept it. I choose to save.”

  “I think that is your divine purpose, my young friend.” Her hand squeezed my shoulder lightly.

  “Divinity has nothing to do with me, Doña.”

  Her lips curled in a slight grin, and she gazed at the floor.

  “Doña, don’t egg him on in this. He doesn’t have to sacrifice himself.”

  The Doña only pursed her lips and then spoke, “Upstairs we go, we’ve got other work to do,” she paused, looked to me and said, “Savior.”

  32 Fight Club

  I needed to discuss our little arrangement with Roxanne, especially now that we had a definitive plan on our side. I found both her and Aedan hanging out near one of the trees in the front yard.

  “Hey,” I said, not sure what else to say.

  “Hey,” said Aedan, giving me a slight nod. Roxanne remained silent, but a slight grin grew on her face.

  “Um, could I talk to you, for a moment?” I said, looking at Roxanne.

  “I'm assuming you don’t want me here?” said Aedan.

  “Nah man, you can stay.”

  “Now you’re ordering me to stay?”

  “No, c’mon Aedan, I didn’t say that. If you wanna stay, just stay.” I shook my head in disgust, tired of these shenanigans.

  “I’ll let you almighty bosses talk,” he said and squeezed Roxanne’s hand before strutting up to the hacienda.

  “Are you two, you know—?”

  “Coyle, I sense that you and your men do not trust us,” she said, avoiding the dating subject.

  “I can’t say we do,” I said. “You’re at the beck and call of just another company with similar aspirations.”

  “Medital has the best interests of the human race at heart. Our mutual enemy, Somatotech, does not. Our cooperation will ensure their crap won’t continue,” said Roxanne. “So, before we take you on our little kidnapping adventure, we’re gonna have to teach you to fight.”

  “If I go, remember. Anyway, I know how to fight. I bet I’m quicker than any of you.”

  “Speed is only a small part of the fighting pie, Coyle. What if I told you I could predict each of your so-called ‘fast’ punches or kicks?”

  “Not possible,” I said but she wasn’t lying. She stared directly into my eyes. She even tilted her head back slightly so I could observe her heart rate from her neck. She was dead serious.

  “Haven’t you wondered how you’ve never been able to touch me? How each time you do, I end up putting you on the floor? I know how your fists are coming, making it easy to exploit your form. Watch. Try to punch or kick me.”

  “Right now?”

  “No, tomorrow, Coyle. C’mon, give it to me.”

  “No whining about me hitting a girl, OK?”

  “Likewise, no whining after I knock the livin’ daylights out of you.”

  I stepped back and readied myself. This was the first time I’d thought about my stance and form. I couldn’t remember if I led with my left foot or my right. Did I step into her when I punch? Or, would she be expecting that? She looked relaxed yet m
enacing standing there all covered in her garb. I decided that moving around would probably be the best tactic, so I danced around like many of the MMA fighters I had seen.

  Roxanne chuckled as she turned to keep eye contact with me. I sped up rotating around her until the centripetal force started to pull me out. For a millisecond I made it out of her view, so I threw a jab at her face. Her arm met mine and deflected it with a simple swipe. With her arm out, I thought I could squeeze a fist into her belly but she grabbed my wrist and spun around, twisting my arm to my back. I flipped over with her hand still gripped tightly on my wrist, pinned against my back. Face down on the ground I went. She dropped a knee on my back, keeping me at bay.

  “OK, uncle,” I said while trying to shake her off. She pressed harder. “C’mon, lay up.”

  “Sounds like whining to me,” she said and stood up, giving me an extra little shove on the way up.

  “So, are you gonna show me how you did that?” I said, as I jumped to my feet and brushed off the dust that caked my pants and shirt.

  “Everyone’s muscles have learned to operate in a certain way. We all have muscle memory. That’s how we walk, talk, eat, write and do other repetitive movements with efficiency and form. Fighting is similar, although most people haven’t developed muscle memory for throwing punches and kicks. Still, people move their muscles in predictable ways. Look at their movements, the way they favor one leg or the other. Observe the contractions of their muscles, their speed, and their bulk. Your mind can calculate their muscle volume, body mass index, and mechanics simply with observation. With that information, you can derive the speed and force of their attacks. By observing their casual movements, you can predict their fighting style and their form. Couple this with our greatly enhanced reaction times and you should never lose a fight, ever. Trust me, I never have. But, remember, some fights are not worth fighting. You need to learn which; otherwise you will hurt the wrong people or die, sort of." She winked.

  “So you just look at people and you can tell how they fight?”

  “With a few minutes of observation I’ll have enough information to give me the edge. That’s made all the difference in my fights with Somatotech.”