“One-Twenty?”
“The man who told the guards that no one came through. He and the others that agreed with him risked their lives lying like that.” He glared. “The guards believed us, too. They think they’ve bred and trained any chance of deceit out of us. So if they find out we’re hiding you, they’ll kill the whole lot of us.”
“Why would they do that?”
“It doesn’t matter why. I’ve seen them do it before and I don’t want to die because of you.”
“Okay, okay. Why doesn’t someone just report me, then?”
The clone relaxed his grip. “The last thing we want to do is help them.” His eyes narrowed. “Where did you come from? It surprises me how mentally adept you seem, yet how unfamiliar you are with how things work.”
Nick hesitated. “From underground.”
The clone’s eyes widened and he leaned in closer. “Are you one of the first batches? The experimental ones? Like me?”
Confused, Nick shook his head. “No.”
The clone’s eyes widened and his mouth fell agape as he appeared to understand the implications. “No, you’re not, are you? You have no idea what you’ve stepped into.” He stepped forward. Sweat dripped down the man’s bare shoulders. He grabbed Nick’s wrist and twisted it in front of his face. “I can’t believe it.” Evidently recognizing the significance of the small scar, the replicate exhaled. “It’s you.” His eyes widened. “You’re an Original. Our Original.”
Nine
“Don’t let anyone else know.” A wild glow appeared in the clone’s eyes. “They’ll probably have you killed. They’re not like me.”
Nick frowned. “Why? I thought you said they wouldn’t report me.”
“They won’t—we won’t—as long they think you’re one of us. I can’t guarantee what the young ones will do. They’ve been out of their chambers for only a couple days, so they’re unpredictable. Shallow, too. They haven’t entirely developed up here.” The clone tapped his temple.
“I noticed. But why would anyone want to kill me for being...original?”
“You’re the Original.” The clone prodded the small white scar. “This is where they took your Chip, right? None of us have ever received a Chip. None of us ever will. We can’t register our identities on the Net and no one will ever know we exist. No universal credits to our name, no traveling freely through countries with Chip systems. We’re slaves.”
The clone jabbed Nick’s chest. “And most of them blame you. It might not make sense, but those that understand where we come from, the words we’ve passed down through each batch...We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your DNA.”
“I didn’t make anyone, though.” He held a hand over his heart. “Trust me, I don’t want to be here, either.”
“That doesn’t mean the others in here don’t want someone to blame. These men beat us and starve us when they want. When they used to allow us to intermingle with others, rumors about our Originals spread. A few of us figured our lives existed because people like you provided the DNA.” His upper lip quivering, the clone glowered.
“That’s terrible.” Nick grimaced. “I can’t believe this place exists. Someone needs to do something about it. I mean, if the US knew about the atrocities here, they’d shut this place down in a day.”
“And yet, no Originals say anything, do they?”
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”
“You give them your DNA and let them birth us. You help create us. I’ve seen Originals come and leave with replicate people in tow. A few come and then, months later, retrieve a replicate person made from their DNA. Unlike those other Originals and you, we didn’t choose to be here.”
Nick slapped his hand against his chest. “Me? I don’t know what they told you or where you got that idea, but I didn’t choose this. I don’t want this anymore than you do. In fact, I was drugged, kidnapped, and brought here. I had no idea what they wanted with me until today.”
He couldn’t believe anyone would insinuate that he wanted to be here. Even in his years as a soldier, he’d never felt so frightened and alone—so weak and helpless. What he wanted was to be back with Kelsey. As an Exo-Specialist, he had been trained to remain levelheaded in the most stressful and dangerous situations. Ignore everything but the task at hand. He was trying to employ that training now, but he’d never been in a more deadly or trying set of circumstances. He’d never had to pretend to belong to a whole tent full of himself while an unknown paramilitary group hunted him down.
“You didn’t want to be here?” the clone asked. “Honest?”
“I have no reason not to be.”
“Then how long do you intend to stay here?”
Nick laughed, drawing stares from a couple of clones. “I want to leave as soon as I can. Hell, I’ve probably been gone too long already...” For a moment, he wondered just how many days he’d been unconscious. But the more urgent worry of staying alive and getting out of the camp overcame that fleeting thought. He needed to focus on the objective. Escape. “I hoped I could leave tomorrow with the rest of you. Once they shipped us out of this camp, I figured I could at least get a bearing on where we are and go from there.”
The clone’s eyes narrowed. “I want to leave, too. If what you’re saying is true, then you can help me escape.”
“I guess so.” Nick wondered if he could trust the man. Blindly following Rocco and the skull-shirted woman in Estonia had led to Nick’s captivity and cloning. If they did escape, what would he do with the clone? The man possessed no identity or birth records to ensure safe passage into the United States, and Nick’s Chip records documented a single birth into a family without other children, much less a twin.
Snarling, the clone leaned in. “There will be no guessing. I need to get out of here. I want to live like a person should live.”
“Okay, okay.” Nick held up his hands. The more pressing need to get out of the camp took precedence over his worries about helping the clone find a place in society. “I’ll help you. But if everything is as bad as you say it is, why haven’t you tried to escape with the others? I understand the younger ones probably wouldn’t be much help, but what about the older ones?”
The clone’s mouth curled into a menacing smirk. “I think you’ll find I’m different than them. Even though they despise our makers and keepers, they’re too paranoid to talk openly about concepts like escape. They’ve been brainwashed to believe that their whole world is restricted to what our keepers tell us exists.” He pointed at his own chest. “I escaped that part of our education.”
“Keepers?”
“Our trainers, managers, teachers, whatever you want to call them.”
“How’d you escape their brainwashing?”
“That’s for later,” the clone said. “I’m afraid we’re running out of time. If you hadn’t noticed, they tucked us away early for the night, and I’m guessing that’s because they’re busy searching for you.”
“Makes sense.”
“You’re going to need to make sure you fit in.”
“I already look like you all. What else do I need to do?”
The clone frowned. “You need a bed and you can’t try to take One-Oh-Nine’s again.”
“I’ll just take an empty bed. Do you know one?”
“None of them are empty.”
Nick’s eyes fell as the realization sank in.
“They’ll inspect the barracks shortly, too.”
He looked back at the clone uniform he had worn. Now, the pants and the shirt lay crumpled on the dirt floor. One-Oh-Nine had pushed them off the shelf and replaced them with his own. Nick pointed to the clothes he had used to escape into the tent. “I can just use those.”
The clone sighed. “I don’t think that will work. Those are One-Eighty-Five’s.”
“Okay, so I’ll be One-Eighty-Five.”
“You came in here wearing One-Eighty-Five’s clothes. Is he dead?”
“I’m not sure
.”
“If he isn’t, they’ll bring One-Eighty-Five back. Don’t you think?”
A pit formed in his stomach. “And they’ll find me.”
The clone nodded. “That’s right. A bit hard to pull off.”
“Is there somewhere else to hide?”
“I don’t know of any place in here.” The clone brushed a hand through his hair. “There are other ways to escape onto the grounds of the complex, but you don’t know your way around. So if the guards don’t find you tonight, they’ll find you tomorrow. Your best bet is to hide in plain sight if we’re to escape together when they ship us out.”
“So, I need to take the place of one of the clones here. Do I need something besides the uniform? Are you tattooed for them to tell you apart?”
The clone shook his head. “The customers apparently don’t like marked produce. You just need to claim their number, wear the uniform like you belong.”
“So I’m just supposed to convince them to give up their number for me?”
“I’m not sure that ‘convince’ is the right word.” With a nod, the clone indicated the younger clones. “It will be easiest to take the place of one of them.”
“How do you propose I do that?”
“You were a soldier, right?”
Nick nodded.
“Then do what you were trained to do.”
Ten
In the Congo, Nick had killed many men. He had shot most of his targets from a distance, his AR lens synced with the Exosuit. With a heat signal or through an enhanced zoom, he had aimed his weapons at a range that outstripped his naked eyesight. Through his receiver, he might have heard a distant yelp of surprise or the thud of metal slamming into flesh and organs. Maybe seen a flash of the man’s face through the lenses. Most of the time, with the precise shots, their expressions had revealed little pain.
If the forest was too dense, Nick would navigate between the trunks and ferns, his squad in tow. They’d creep along slowly, ensuring they didn’t so much as interrupt the birds’ songs that permeated the treetops. Like ghosts, they flitted through the shadows to dispatch their targets. Their marks never got a second to contemplate their death. They simply crumpled to the forest floor and landed among a blanket of leaves and plants.
He had never killed a man with his bare hands. Tonight marked the first time he had even killed a man without the Exosuit. He had used a pistol that recoiled in his grip, a weapon he’d only fired at ranges against inorganic targets. Tonight, he had thrown a man against an electric fence, for God’s sake. He had needed to kill those men to survive and escape. Undoubtedly, they deserved death no less than the CRM soldiers he had killed in the Congo did.
But to kill an innocent man in cold blood? Even a clone? The task seemed especially macabre when he was faced with a man who appeared identical to him. The other clone had suggested Nick murder another human being, cloned or not, to preserve his own life. He reasoned that his target should not exist in the first place and he needed to return to Kelsey. She deserved to have him back, to bring her life back to normal.
“Where’s the fugitive? I’ll gladly report him.”
“Back just a little farther,” he said to the young clone he had lured into the latrine.
A communal sink with four faucets stood near the entrance of the latrine. Beside it, a metal bench with several circular openings stood over a large, open ditch that collected human waste. A malodorous stench rose up, escaping from the gaping reservoir.
The clone frowned and put his hands on his hips. “I don’t see him.”
In the replicate’s face, he recognized the same features he saw in holoimages of himself or when he looked in the mirror. But he didn’t recognize the uncanny brilliance in the clone’s eyes. It was the same curiosity and innocence as one would find in a child, something untarnished and unspoiled.
With his stomach knotting, he stepped forward. He put his hands on the man’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry.” But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill the clone like this. This man deserved life as much as he did. He would need to find another way out. Maybe he could spend the night in the trees and find a way to stow away with the clones tomorrow. “Never mind. I was wrong.” He waved the man off.
The clone stepped forward. His eyes spread wide and he took Nick’s arm. “Wait.” He pointed at the small scar from the Chip’s excision. “The guards said a man might come in here later with this type of marking. You’re the man we are supposed to report.”
Nick pulled his arm back and shook his head. “No, no.” His mind raced as he envisioned the guards dragging him back to that underground chamber and locking him up, preventing any hope of escape.
The clone started for the exit. Nick jumped on him and wrapped an arm around the clone’s neck.
“I need to report you.”
Nick put the man in a chokehold and clenched the clone’s mouth shut with his free hand. The clone kicked at Nick’s shins.
He grimaced at the pain and bit the inside of his cheeks to prevent himself from yelling. With an elbow jab from the replicate, Nick almost lost his grip. A gargled yelp came out of the clone’s mouth.
Nick squeezed tighter, withstanding blow after blow, straining against the man’s efforts to escape. Nick’s ribs ached and his eyes felt wet. His victim wrapped his fingers around the Chip scar but his grip loosened. The clone fell limp.
He lowered the body and traced the numbers along the side of the clone’s shirt. One-Ninety. “I’m sorry.” Staring at his own dead face, Nick closed the replicate’s eyelids and thought of Blue Gloves and Mohawk. It was their fault; they’d caused this. His stomach twisted. In his mind’s eye, he pictured Kelsey, waiting at home for him, distraught at his disappearance. This must be worth it. He needed to do this. Those thoughts failed to prevent the flood tide of guilt that overwhelmed him. He slapped the ground, grimacing.
“Goddammit,” he whispered, rubbing his hands in the dirt beside One-Ninety. “Goddammit.” He exhaled, pinching his eyes closed, and stood.
A loud voice called out from the main tent. It must have been the guards, back to take roll.
His heart thudded, his pulse raced, and he knelt next to One-Ninety. He took the man’s clothes off. The weight of the clone’s limbs and the effort it took to relieve the clone of his shirt and pants surprised Nick. He peeled off his own garments and replaced them with One-Ninety’s. As he pulled the shirt over his head, a hand grabbed his arm. He jumped and froze in place.
“What the hell are you doing?” A low voice whispered behind him.
Nick turned. It was him, another clone.
“I’m...I’m...”
“Dammit, man. If we’re going to escape, you need to do better than this.” His demeanor and tone familiar and different than the others, the clone brushed past. It was the same clone Nick had spoken with earlier. “We need to do something with the body.”
Unfamiliar words called out in the main tent.
“They just yelled out for One-Oh-Two,” the clone said. “That’s me...If I don’t say something, they’re going to kill me.”
“They’ll kill us both if they find us like this.”
Stepping forward, the clone hoisted up One-Ninety’s body. “Not if you give me a hand.”
Eleven
A voice called out from the barracks again.
One-Oh-Two peeked out from the latrine’s door and responded to the guards.
His heavy boots thudding, one of the guards jogged down the aisle. He shoved One-Oh-Two when he entered the latrine and the clone crashed against the sink. When he recovered, One-Oh-Two stood at attention. The guard slapped the clone’s face. One-Oh-Two’s cheeks turned red but he made no sound, nor did he recoil.
The guard yelled and shoved One-Oh-Two with both hands and the clone fell back into the sink again.
One-Oh-Two nodded.
The guard eyed him suspiciously and his voice rattled off in that unfamiliar language.
Nick sat on the bench over
the deep hole that collected the clones’ body waste, his pants pulled down to his ankles. Any other day, he might laugh at such a scene. It would appear ridiculous. Now, he only felt dread and struggled to appear natural. His palms grew clammy and his face hot as he waited for the moment they twisted his arm around to reveal the small scar from the Chip.
One-Oh-Two motioned to Nick and responded to the officer in a matter-of-fact tone.
The guard sneered and prodded the clone. Shaking his head, the guard said something and scoffed.
One-Oh-Two nodded, his eyes lowered.
The guard grabbed One-Oh-Two’s shoulder. The clone winced as the soldier barked something else. Whipping his head around, the guard shot a fierce look at Nick and spat a command.
His nerves jumped with electricity at the guard’s incomprehensible words. Nick nodded, his eyes lowered, his muscles clenching, twisting his left arm enough to hide the scar.
Eyes narrowed, the guard stared hard.
Each millisecond of intense silence frayed Nick’s nerves further. With a final harrumph, the guard pushed One-Oh-Two aside and strode out the door.
The clone grinned. “I told him I thought I heard a sound in here and I was worried it was the man they were looking for. Then I said I just found you in here and it turned out my suspicions were wrong. He seemed satisfied enough, though he called both of us morons. Anyway, we’re in the clear for now.”
Nick let out a long breath. He held his head in his hands for a moment before standing up and replacing his pants. “I can’t stand this. I can’t keep hiding from these guys forever.”
“I know, but we don’t have much of a choice right now. And if we don’t get out of here soon, our chances of escape are greatly diminished.”
One-Oh-Two marched out.
Before leaving the latrine, Nick peered down into the wide, open trench dug out under the bench that collected the clones’ waste. A lone light in the makeshift bathroom illuminated the white skin of a man stuffed in the excrement of the dark reservoir.
The Human Forged Page 5