Replication

by Kevin Hardman

  “Something like that.”

  “So what do you want, a Jack-the-Clone hotline, where people can call in and get the latest?”

  “It would be a start.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Mouse said flatly, although I could sense that he was amused. “Look, I honestly don’t know what you’re complaining about. As a telepath, you can mentally convey almost any story you want in virtually any amount of detail – all in about two seconds. Is it really that tedious?”

  I sighed. “It’s not so much telling the same thing again and again. Given the current situation, it’s necessary, and I admit that I can bring people up to speed a lot faster telepathically than I can verbally.”

  Mouse gave me a look of incomprehension. “So what’s the problem?”

  “In all honesty, I just don’t like spending a lot of time running around inside my friends’ heads,” I confessed. “Things have a tendency to slip through.”

  “Huh?” Mouse muttered. “What kind of things?”

  “Things a good friend probably wouldn’t tell you, and that you most likely wouldn’t want to hear,” I explained. “I mean, do you really want to know that your friends think you’re a terrible dancer, or that you look stupid in that hat, or they hate your chicken parmesan?”

  “Hold on,” Mouse said, looking gravely serious. “You don’t like my chicken parmesan?”

  I just stared at him for a moment, and then we both started laughing.

  “Okay,” he said a few seconds later, still grinning, “I understand your point. But right now, you’re our fastest and most reliable form of communication regarding this Jack situation. More importantly, you’re also the most secure method at the moment.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, trying to make sense of his statement.

  “Well, you said that Jack isn’t telepathic, right? But you are. So, if you make everyone close to you aware of that fact, the next time you’re looking to confirm your identity with them…”

  “I just have to communicate with them telepathically,” I blurted out, finishing my mentor’s thought. “And that way everyone will know it’s the real me and not Jack. It’s genius!”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to toot my own horn,” Mouse said, with a faux sheepish look on his face. “But if you say so, I’m fine with it.”

  We both laughed again, and for about the millionth time I marveled at how well Mouse and I got along, such as our ability to find humor even in serious situations. I wasn’t sure that I’d ever said it out loud, but I counted myself lucky that he was my mentor, and I knew he felt the same with respect to me.

  However, this particular meeting of our two-man, mutual admiration society was promptly dismissed when Mouse, after regaining his composure, abruptly stated that he had work to do.

  “I’ve got some stuff I still need to look at,” he said. “Why don’t you take off, and I’ll let you know when we can circle up again.”

  With no other real options, I agreed and took my leave.

  Chapter 56

  After departing the lab, I went in search of Myshtal and Smokey. Despite everything that had happened since Vestibule teleported me to her park, I actually hadn’t been gone particularly long – less than two hours. Thus, it wasn’t that surprising that I found my friends exactly where I’d left them: in the teen lounge, presently engaged in a game of table tennis (which Myshtal showed surprising aptitude for).

  Upon noting my presence, they cut their game short and – after confirming that he was in – we all went to Li’s quarters. Once there, I gave everyone an update on recent events as we sat in the living room, although I didn’t go into detail about Jack’s interaction with Vestibule. (She was humiliated enough as it was; it would suffice for others to simply know that Jack had been in contact with her.)

  “So your evil twin is actually a clone?” Smokey asked when I finished. “That’s arguably worse than an evil twin.”

  “No kidding,” I grumbled. “But at least you’ll be able to figure out if it’s me or not.”

  Smokey nodded. “If he doesn’t give us the telepathic high sign, he’s a phony.”

  “What about Li?” Myshtal interjected. “I don’t think your telepathy works with him.”

  “I have my own means of discerning the true Jim,” Li assured her.

  Smokey’s brow furrowed in thought for a moment. “So what do you think he wants? I mean, it’s nice to know he wasn’t trying to frame you – assuming that’s true – but the way he’s approached people has to mean something.”

  “I agree,” chimed in Li. “His raining fire and brimstone down upon miscreants does not neatly dovetail into duping your confederates.”

  “Hold on,” Smokey protested. “I’d argue that ‘duping’ is kind of strong. Rather than being duped, I think it’s more appropriate to say I was–”

  “Punked?” Myshtal suggested.

  Caught completely flatfooted by her comment, Smokey just looked at her with an expression that seemed to combine amusement, shock, and bewilderment.

  “Hoaxed,” he finally declared after a few seconds. “I was going to say ‘hoaxed.’” He then turned to me and, hooking a thumb towards Myshtal, said, “Your girl obviously ranks television as the leading authority on Earth culture.”

  A moment later – maybe tipped off by the look on my face – Smokey winced and added, “The princess, I mean. Myshtal. Not your girl. Not Electra.” Then, clearly aware that he was rambling, Smokey muttered, “Whatever. My point is, you might want to have her crack open a book now and then.”

  Giggling, Myshtal stated. “I have read books extensively since I arrived. I have al–”

  “Okay, okay,” I interrupted. “That’s enough of the sidebar conversation. Let’s just assume that nobody got punked, nobody’s a couch potato, and everybody loves a good book. Now, can we get back to the subject of Jack?”

  “We were discussing what he might want,” Li said. “What his goal might be in seeking out friends and close associates of Jim.”

  “You sound like you might have a theory,” I reasoned.

  “It is more conjecture than theory,” Li admitted, “and stems from the fact that – aside from those he attacked – his demeanor when dealing with others has generally been reported as affable and congenial.”

  “So in terms of what he’s after, what exactly does that mean?” Smokey asked.

  “I believe it means that he wants friends,” Li replied.

  Chapter 57

  No one really bought into Li’s hypothesis about Jack simply wanting some amigos to hang out with. Just the fact that he was out there pretending to be me gave the impression that a larger, more nefarious plot was at work. Thus, the rest of us spent a little time trying to blast holes in our friend’s theory before Smokey announced that he had to get going. That was the impetus for me and Myshtal to leave as well. (I was also spurred by the sudden recollection of another situation that I had to deal with.) Thus, after saying our goodbyes, I teleported the two of us back to the embassy.

  We popped up in the kitchen. Prior to my taking off with Vestibule, I had left Myshtal in the teen lounge with a power bar and some fruit, but I didn’t know if she’d properly eaten. My teleporting us to the kitchen was a way to sort of make up for that, which I admitted.

  “Thanks for thinking of me,” Myshtal said of my gesture, “but I’m fine until dinner.”

  “Great,” I said. “Also, while I hate to dash off, I’ve got something I need to attend to.”

  “No problem,” she insisted. “Go, go.”

  “Thanks, but just so you know, you may be on your own for supper. No one’s home at the moment.”

  I then explained that, telepathically, I wasn’t sensing anyone else, which meant that my mother and grandparents were out.

  “I’ll be fine,” Myshtal assured me. “Just go. I’ll let everyone know what’s been happening when they get back.”

  As she spoke, she made a shooing motion with her hand, essentially te
lling me to leave. Chuckling, I did as instructed and teleported.

  *****

  I didn’t immediately leave the embassy; instead, I popped up in my room, then proceeded to pull out my phone and call Electra.

  “Hello, my love,” she said in a honeyed voice after the first ring.

  “Uh, hi,” I replied, a little surprised at both her tone and choice of words, as she usually avoided using the term “love” in reference to me. (Basically, it was a reminder that I – allegedly – didn’t have her heart locked down yet.)

  “As always, it’s great to hear your voice, lambchop,” she teasingly stated.

  “Um, thanks. Listen, are you at home?”

  “Of course. Where else would I be, sweetness?”

  I frowned, thinking that the terminology she was using was distinctly out of character, but not sure what it meant.

  “Well, I need to talk to you about something,” I stressed. “Would it be okay if I came by?”

  “Certainly, sugar lump. Whatever your heart desires.”

  Okay, something was definitely off. Electra would occasionally use terms of affection, but at the moment she was laying it on pretty thick. And then the truth hit me.

  I let out a deep sigh and said, “You already know, don’t you?”

  “Know what, dear heart?” she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.

  “Vestibule,” I said flatly.

  “Oh. You mean that tongue-wrestling session the two of you had in the teen lounge? I may have heard a rumor.”

  There was a short silence (although it felt long and uncomfortable), that was finally broken by me saying, “Okay, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. If you give me a minute, I can explain everything.”

  “You’ve got thirty seconds,” she replied, now sounding like her usual self. “And the clock’s ticking.”

  Not wasting a moment, I teleported to my girlfriend’s house.

  Chapter 58

  As it turns out, I didn’t need the full thirty seconds to convince Electra of my sincerity. As soon as I got to her house, I reached out telepathically and showed her everything I’d learned about my clone – including how he’d deceived Vestibule – in just a few moments.

  “Oh my…” she began after I severed the mental link between us. “Jim…that’s awful! I mean, Vestibule’s not my favorite person, but what he did to her was horrible.”

  I nodded. “I know, but you can’t tell anyone. Vestibule’s embarrassed enough as it is.”

  “Of course,” she uttered sympathetically. “I’d never say anything.”

  “Good,” I stressed. “The only reason I showed you everything is so you’d understand what happened in the lounge.”

  “Honestly, I wasn’t too concerned about that,” she confessed.

  I raised an eyebrow in surprise. “No?”

  “Not really,” she confirmed, shaking her head. “Unexpectedly kissing you is something Vestibule’s done before, and from what I heard, that’s essentially what happened.”

  “Then why act like you were upset?” I asked. “I brought along extra kneepads thinking I was going to have to do some epic groveling to get back in your good graces.”

  She laughed. “I was upset – but it was because you didn’t tell me what happened. Instead, I had to hear about it through the grapevine.”

  “Well, in case you missed the other part,” I said defensively, “I was busy focusing on locating my evil twin and finding out what his game plan is.”

  “Oh, quit pouting,” she cooed as she stepped close, slipped her arms around me, and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “Better?”

  “Not really,” I replied, giving her a sly look. “Maybe you should give it another go, but act like you mean it this time.”

  She giggled. “I’m not falling for that one again.” Playfully pushing me away, she added, “Besides, I have a project to finish for school.”

  “So, should I leave?”

  “Not necessarily,” Electra said. “You know where everything is here – the living room, the TV, the remote. Why don’t you make yourself at home while I finish, and when I’m done, I’ll order some pizza and we can watch a movie.”

  “Sounds great,” I admitted.

  A moment later I was heading towards the living room, hoping there was something good on television.

  Chapter 59

  I spent the next few hours with my girlfriend, who had the ordering of pizza down to a science; it arrived at almost the exact moment she finished her school project.

  “Esper and I order from this place all the time,” she explained. “We pretty much know how long it’s going to take them to deliver, give or take a minute.”

  Mention of Electra’s guardian, Esper, brought to mind the fact that I hadn’t sensed her when I’d arrived. Like my family, Esper was a telepath, so I usually had a pretty good idea when she was around. (Actually, I always got the impression that Esper wanted me to know when she was around, just in case I started getting any ideas.) It just so happened, however, that Esper was out on assignment, so Electra and I ended up without a chaperone on this particular occasion.

  That said, we primarily used the opportunity to simply snuggle on the couch. Electra picked the movie, which turned out to be some schlock about space vampires, and we spent most of the film hilariously picking it apart in terms of the terrible plot, bad acting, and poor special effects.

  However, as was typical when I was with Electra, the time just seemed to fly by. Before I knew it, the movie had finished and it was time for me to go. After getting a goodnight hug from my girlfriend (and stealing a kiss), I teleported home.

  Popping up in my bedroom at the embassy, I gave a telepathic hello to my family (all of whom I could now sense were at home). I then stretched out on the bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling as I reflected on my day. It had been long and exhausting, to be honest, so saying I was tired was an understatement. I closed my eyes for a moment – just to think – and before I knew it, I was completely knocked out.

  *****

  I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed; there’s a lot to be said for a good night’s sleep. I glanced at my cell phone and noted that it was still early – not catch-a-school-bus early (like the previous day), but early enough that no one could brand me as having slept in. I also saw that I had a text from Mouse asking me to meet him in his lab a little later.

  With nothing pressing at the moment, I went through my morning routine at a normal pace for the first time in days, including taking a long, relaxing shower. Afterwards, I got dressed and went downstairs.

  I found my grandparents in the breakfast area again, huddled up against each other as before while looking through the paper.

  Indigo greeted me with a smile, saying, “Good morning, Sxibbo.”

  “Good morning,” I said in response, then pointed towards the newspaper with my chin. “Wow, you guys are really getting into the periodicals lately.”

  “It’s your grandfather,” Indigo contended. “It’s been awhile since he’s seen his name in the paper, but after they ran that picture of us a few days ago, followed by articles about the party, he’s become obsessed with seeing his name in print.”

  “Not true,” Gramps protested. “First of all, I generally read articles online, but when they printed our picture, the newspaper also gave us a free, one-year subscription. So the paper in my hand every morning is a sign of free delivery, not egotistical obsession.”

  “Oh, just listen to him justify his actions,” Indigo joked, giggling.

  Ignoring her, my grandfather went on. “Second, if you must know, rather than scouring for something about myself, I’m actually reading an article about a congressman who voted to raise the minimum wage yesterday, even though he was opposed to the law up until a few days ago. Claims he must have been hypnotized or drugged, because he doesn’t remember the vote at all.”

  My grandmother rolled her eyes. “Seems that politicians are the same everywhere – alw
ays trying to avoid taking responsibility for their actions.”

  Her comment was a subtle reminder that, back on Caeles, she was always neck-deep in political intrigue and hated every second of it. However, despite her disgust at the constant shifting of alliances, backroom deals, and so on, she was actually very good at it.

  “Anyway,” I said, “I’ve got some things to do, so I’m going to take off.”

  “Not without breakfast,” Gramps admonished. “It’s still the most important meal of the day.”

  “Yeah – right after breakfast,” I concurred. “I was going to say that, but you didn’t let me finish.”

  My grandparents snickered, then Indigo said, “That’s your grandfather’s ego again. He made pancakes this morning, so nobody’s escaping today without trying them.”

  “What do you mean, ‘escape’?” Gramps asked indignantly. “No one tries to get away from my pancakes. People run to my pancakes. Ex-cons break back into prison for my pancakes. Olympic athletes trade their gold medals for my pancakes. World-famous chefs call me, begging for the recipe so they…”

  Chuckling, I left my grandparents and headed to the kitchen, with my grandfather’s praise of his pancakes echoing in my ears.

  Chapter 60

  After locating a stack of pancakes in the microwave, I wolfed down a couple of them in short order. Gramps may have exaggerated about their appeal, but not by much, in my opinion. He really did have notable culinary skills, and his pancakes (which were truly delicious) were just a small example.

  Upon finishing, I noted that it was close to the time I was supposed to meet with Mouse. I told my grandparents that I would see them later and telepathically passed along the same message to Mom (who was once again in her office, working). Surprisingly, no one in my family seemed to express an interest in the situation with my evil twin. I took that to mean that Myshtal had done as promised and apprised them all of recent events. Then, after promising to be careful, I teleported.