Replication

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Replication Page 34

by Kevin Hardman


  “Yeah,” I said with a nod, “but why do we have to use an actual neural blocker? Can’t we just use a placebo and pretend that’s what it is?”

  Mouse shook his head. “From the way it’s been described, I think Jack’s ability homes in on legitimate threats, and a placebo wouldn’t fit into that category. So if we use a placebo…”

  “It won’t be viewed as a real danger,” I concluded, finishing his thought as my mentor trailed off. “At that point, the only true threat will be the nullifier, and at that juncture it will represent a seminal event, which Jack would be able to see in his future.”

  “Now you got it,” Mouse intoned. “And that’s why the neural blocker has to be real.”

  “Well, why can’t we use a gun or something? Wouldn’t that work?”

  “With his super strength, there’s no guarantee that bullets will hurt him. And if he can’t be hurt by it, his precognitive talents may not peg it as a threat.”

  “Which brings us back to using the neural blocker,” I said in resignation. “Okay, so what can I do?”

  “Nothing, in that regard,” Mouse confided. “But I have another task for you.”

  “What?” I asked, eager to help.

  “I need you to find your evil twin.”

  Chapter 84

  Mouse was right. It wasn’t going to do us any good to have a plan for stopping Jack if we didn’t know where to find him. Moreover, for obvious reasons, Mouse thought I was the best person to figure out where he was holed up.

  Personally, I thought it was a tall order. Being a teleporter, Jack could be anywhere, and he’d already shown he was crafty. On those forensic shows on television, they always use things like dirt on someone’s shoes or fibers from their clothing to pinpoint an individual’s location or movements, but we didn’t have anything like that here. That being the case, I wasn’t even sure where to start. Still, I teleported to my quarters at HQ to noodle on the problem, flopping down on the sofa as I considered everything I knew about Jack.

  To be perfectly honest, I didn’t know all that much. Our interactions had been limited, to say the least, and had grown worse in terms of temperament with each encounter.

  Moving on from when Jack and I had crossed paths, I thought about what I knew of the other places he’d been in hopes that they might offer a clue as to his whereabouts. However, there wasn’t much meat on the bone in that regard either. I could name a number of places he’d visited, but didn’t think they offered much in the way of insight: Vestibule’s park, my father’s mansion, League HQ, my grandmother’s embassy…

  My thoughts suddenly shifted as I noticed a pattern in Jack’s behavior. He had seemingly teleported into three of the venues I’d been thinking of – the park, the mansion, and HQ – but had picked the lock to gain entry to the embassy. The reason for his different modus operandi at the embassy was obvious: he hadn’t been there before. With the park, however, he’d previously visited it with Vestibule prior to chatting with me there. Likewise, as to HQ – specifically the teen lounge – he had spoken to Smokey there prior to his run-in with the teen supers the previous day. But my father’s mansion…? When had he visited it prior to being gutshot?

  The answer that immediately leaped out at me was my grandparents’ party. That was the best opportunity for Jack to have gotten inside Alpha Prime’s palatial home. Unfortunately, the security system was turned off that night (including the panic room monitors), so there was no video I could review for confirmation of his presence. However, there had been a photographer there – Matt Kroner.

  Moreover, upon reflection, I recalled Kroner labeling me a “quick-change artist” when he took his picture of me and Electra. The comment hadn’t made sense at the time, but now it did. Presumably, at some point prior to taking our photo, Kroner had seen Jack – most likely in a different ensemble than I’d been wearing at the time. Had they spoken? If so, had Jack perhaps said something that could be used to track him down?

  Feeling that I was onto something (but unsure of what it was), I jumped up, intent on locating Matt Kroner. It was a long shot, no doubt, but I didn’t have a lot of options or ideas (nor, at that juncture, a lot to lose).

  Thankfully, running Kroner down wasn’t particularly difficult; it just took me calling one of the newspapers where he freelanced and asking how to get in touch with him about his photos. Finding out where he actually was, on the other hand, came as a bit of a shock: according to the newspaper, Kroner was in the hospital.

  Chapter 85

  It wasn’t visiting hours, so I turned invisible in order to slip past the nurse’s station in the intensive care unit where Kroner was being treated. Upon reaching his door, I phased and went inside.

  Kroner’s hospital room wasn’t completely full of cards and flowers, but had a healthy complement of them – enough to indicate that he was a nice guy and well-liked. Looking at him, it occurred to me that he needed all the well-wishes he could get. From all appearances, Kroner was practically in a body cast.

  There was a space for his face, holes for his ears, and the top of his noggin was exposed, but otherwise his head seemed encased in plaster. Likewise for his neck and torso, as well as most of his limbs. About the only thing not currently wrapped and immobilized by casting material was his left arm and right thigh. He’d obviously had a serious accident recently.

  He couldn’t move his head, but he glanced in my direction as I made myself visible. His eyes went wide in fright, while panic and alarm surged in him with blazing speed.

  “Easy, easy,” I muttered, trying to keep him calm. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  My words seemed to have something of the desired effect, as his trepidation began to subside and the fearful expression on his face was replaced by one of confusion.

  “Jure nah him,” he almost whispered between clenched teeth. It took me a second to translate his statement as “You’re not him.” At the same time, I realized why he seemed to be having trouble speaking: his jaw was wired shut.

  Before I could respond, I heard the doorknob being turned. I immediately went invisible and floated up into a corner of the room. A moment later, an attractive, middle-aged woman wearing a nurse’s uniform stepped in.

  “Are you okay, Mr. Kroner?” the nurse asked as she approached his bedside.

  Kroner didn’t respond. Instead, he simply looked at the spot where I’d been standing a few moments earlier, frowning in concentration.

  “Mr. Kroner,” the nurse repeated, “is everything okay?”

  This time, the question seemed to snap Kroner back to the present.

  “Yeth,” he replied to the nurse. He then held up his left hand, revealing a nurse call button that I hadn’t noticed before. “Thorry. Athident.”

  The nurse smiled. “No need to be sorry. The doctor said you might experience some muscle spasms, so if you accidentally hit the button a couple of times, it’s okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

  She then turned and left. A moment later, I floated back down and became visible again.

  Kroner gave me a bit of a smile. “Thorry. I–”

  I said telepathically, cutting him off as I mentally reached out.

  he replied.

 

  he corrected.

  I noted.

 

  I boomed, surprised.

  Kroner confirmed, mentally nodding.


 

 

 

 

  I asked, using my grandfather’s superhero pseudonym.

 

  I asked.

  Kroner replied.

  I nodded but didn’t say anything immediately, as it had occurred to me after I asked my question that Jack might also have used his clairvoyant abilities to figure out where to find Kroner.

  he continued,

  I offered in sympathy.

  Kroner scoffed.

 

  he admitted.

 

 

  I muttered, lowering my eyes.

  he acknowledged.

  I said sincerely.

  Kroner admitted.

 

  he added.

  I said, trying not to sound disappointed.

  Kroner agreed.

  Chapter 86

  It turned out that Kroner – having previously lost some photos due to technical issues – now made a habit of regularly copying photos from his camera to his laptop. Moreover, while his camera had been pulverized, said laptop (which was in his bedroom at the time of his encounter with Jack) had escaped the same fate. It was currently in the hands of the friend who had come by to clean up his place after the attack.

  Kroner said.

  After that, it was just a matter of getting Kroner to call his friend on my phone and convince her to give me his laptop. It was a little dicey with his jaw being wired, but in the end – with Kroner’s blessing – she agreed to meet me in an hour and hand it over.

  I said as the call ended.

  he replied.

  I said.

  I then tried to use my healing power on him. After all, it had just saved Gramps when he was banging on death’s door with a battering ram. Surely it could help Kroner, who wasn’t anywhere near that condition. Much to my chagrin, however, it did not work.

  Humbled by my failure, I thanked Kroner again for his help and then left.

  *****

  The meeting with Melanie went off without a hitch, and an hour after the call with her, I had the coveted laptop in hand. Still unsure of whether it held anything of value, I teleported to my quarters at HQ. Taking a seat on the couch in the living room, I opened up the laptop and pulled up the folder containing Kroner’s pictures (which were, thankfully, grouped by date).

  Turning to those from the party, I began quickly sifting through the photos, of which there were hundreds. Kroner had obviously worked hard to earn his pay, and he clearly had a good eye. Many of the pictures weren’t just frame-worthy – they were good enough for commercial advertising.

  For instance, one pic of a kid reading a book in my father’s library could have been used in any effort to promote literacy. Another photo of a man and woman dancing while looking lovingly at each other could have graced the cover of any romance novel. An image of a group of friends having a toast at the bar seemed tailor-made for plugging a New Year’s celebration (or something similar). In short, Kroner’s talent was probably wasted doing freelance work.

  Staying focused on the task at hand, I kept my eyes peeled for any photo containing my doppelganger. It took about ten minutes, but I finally located one. It was actually a picture of my grandparents, standing close with their arms around each other – with Jack basically performing a photobomb in the background, giving the two of them a fixated stare.

  And just looking at it, I knew with almost certainty where to find him.

  Chapter 87

  I immediately teleported to Mouse’s lab (where my mentor and BT were still getting everything together) and reported the good news.

  “That’s great,” BT said when I told them what I’d discovered. “We probably need about another hour before we’re ready.”

  Neither she nor Mouse said anything else, but I got the hint: I was about to undertake a dangerous mission. If there were people I needed to spend some time with, there was a very small amount of time available to do so. With that in mind (and knowing that these kinds of opportunities didn’t come along often), I told them I’d be back shortly and teleported home.

  *****

  Once at the embassy, I gathered in the breakfast area with Mom, Indigo, and Myshtal. I gave them a brief overview of how the day had gone and let them know we had a plan for dealing with Jack (although I didn’t give them the details). I then asked about Gramps.

  “We had someone come by to check on him,” my mother said. I nodded, understanding that she meant someone on a short list of physicians that we trusted. “The doctor said that Dad’s fine as far as he can tell. He’s just sleeping.”

  “But there’s no telling when he’ll wake up,” my grandmother added.

  “Can I see him?” I asked.

  The three of them exchanged an odd look amongst themselves, and I sensed unusual emotions arising in each of them. It wasn’t anything that would make me think Gramps was in danger, such as anxiety or worry. It was more along the lines of bewilderment and stupefaction – as if they’d awakened and discovered a unicorn in the backyard. Before the silence got too awkward, however, Myshtal spoke up.

  “Of course you can see him if you want,” Myshtal said. “But even tho
ugh the prognosis is that he’s fine, he’s obviously not at his best and probably wouldn’t want you to see him this way – especially if there’s a chance it will affect how you go about your mission today.”

  I frowned, contemplating. Seeing what Jack did to Gramps had certainly pushed me over the line earlier. (In fact, it wasn’t too far from my mind right now.) Whether I saw him or not, there was every chance that what had happened to my grandfather would have an effect on the mission. That said, I didn’t need to do anything that might put me more off-balance than I already was.

  “Okay,” I finally said. “I’ll see him later.”

  *****

  I only spent a few more minutes with my family and Myshtal, then dashed to my room and called Electra. She answered after the first ring.

  “Hello, sweet prince,” she said.

  “Hey,” I said in response. “Listen, I don’t have much time, but I was wondering if I could come by and snatch a little joy.”

  “Huh?” she murmured. “Oh! Oh, yes. Of course. I’m home now.”

  I hung up and teleported to her front door. Electra snatched it open before I even had a chance to ring the bell. She closed the door and hugged me fiercely as I stepped inside – as if she never wanted to let me go. Eventually she did, however; stepping back and taking my hand, she guided me to a nearby loveseat and then pulled me down next to her. She then listened intently as I shared everything that had happened since I woke up. When I was done, she simply sat there quietly for a moment, plainly thinking about what she’d heard.

  “You know,” she finally said, “I don’t often wish for the people I care about to fall flat on their face, but I’m glad you didn’t succeed with Jack earlier.”

 

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