The Gemini Experiment

by Brian Pinkerton

  There was an abrupt halt in the pounding.

  “You’ve really thrown me off,” said the man. “Goddamn it, now I don’t have time to go to the bank. So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to tell me where the jewelry is. And you better have some good shit.”

  “I do!” said Emily. “I swear I do.”

  “Because if you don’t, I’m killing you both. And I’m killing this noisy little dog, too.”

  The poodle continued barking and then let out a yelp, as if from a sudden kick.

  “It’s in the bedroom,” shouted Emily. “In the closet. You’ll see shoe boxes. There’s a red box, top shelf, in the back, behind—”

  She heard the rapid thud of footsteps moving to another part of the house.

  Emily hugged Sofi tighter. She stroked her cheek. “We’re going to be okay, honey.”

  “Mommy,” Sofi said, “why is that man pretending to be Daddy?”

  Emily felt dizzy, overwhelmed by the insanity of the situation. The only answer she could offer was the truth. “Honey, I have no idea.”

  * * *

  Louis plopped himself back in the Camry. He threw his winnings in the passenger seat: an impressive jewelry collection, plus the woman’s purse with its cash and credit cards, useful for the short term. He still needed a bigger stash for a proper rebirth, but this was a start.

  Louis put the car in gear and glanced in the rearview mirror. He caught a glimpse of himself – looking nothing like himself – with an added embellishment that gave him concern.

  There was an open wound on his forehead where the frying pan had struck him. It did not create a bloody gash, just a hole in the flesh revealing a peek of shiny steel. This did not look human.

  “What the hell am I?” he said.

  Chapter Seven

  Tom Nolan exclaimed, “He’s at my house! Somebody take me home!”

  The lab continued to swirl in a stew of panic and confusion. The escape of Louis Karp was discovered when one of the scientists entered the side room and found the unconscious bodies of Tom and Steven Morris. Giamatti was immediately alerted. He demanded that no one contact the police or any other outside party. Tom regained consciousness, but suffered a mild concussion. One of the doctors stitched the wound on the back of his head. Steven’s throat was bruised, and his voice was hoarse. Giamatti gave Tom permission to contact his wife to let her know his arrival home would be delayed and he had ‘accidentally’ hit his head.

  “Downplay the hell out of it,” he insisted, and that was Tom’s plan until he called home and heard his own voice on the other end of the phone.

  Emily and Sofi were in danger and his immediate priority was to get to them. When Tom shouted for someone to drive him home, Alan stepped forward. “I’ll take you there now.” He gripped the remote that had been retrieved from under a bank of computers. “If he’s still there, we’ll shut him down.”

  They hurried into Alan’s car. Tom provided directions and Alan drove fast. Tom could barely sit still. “I can’t believe the son of a bitch went to my house.”

  “As soon as we get him back to the lab, we’ll remove the cartridge,” said Alan. “He served his purpose. He’s nothing more than a digital file. We’ll delete the bastard.”

  Alan’s cell phone began ringing. He answered it with one hand. “Hello, Mr. Giamatti. I’m with Tom. The real Tom. Let me put you on speaker.”

  Giamatti’s voice filled the car. It shook with fury. “All of the years and money that went into this…and you allow the test subject to just walk out the front door?”

  “Not exactly…” Alan said.

  “We’re going to my house,” said Tom urgently. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. He’s in my house with my wife and daughter.”

  “Yes, I was just informed,” Giamatti said. “I’m on my way there, too. Cooper is with me. He’s armed.”

  Tom shut his eyes. He regretted ever agreeing to this experiment. Instead of dying with dignity, he had entered into an unholy pact and jeopardized the two people he loved more than anything in the world. Perhaps these scientists were truly meddling in areas of God’s creation that should be left alone.

  Alan pulled into Tom’s driveway, and Tom immediately jumped out. He moved as quickly as his legs would take him – stumbling, grimacing through the awkward disobedience of his muscles – but refusing to fall.

  He threw himself on the front door, yanked it open and lunged into the house, too breathless to shout out Emily’s name. The first thing he saw was a large knife coming at him.

  Tom yelled and fell to the floor.

  Emily wielded a knife from the kitchen, stopping the blade just inches from Tom’s face.

  “Don’t you move!” she shouted, eyes blazing.

  “Emily, it’s me!” said Tom, panting. “It’s really me – not the other me.” He knew he looked and sounded crazy. He wore a rumpled, ill-fitting lab coat and sweatpants since his own clothing had been stolen.

  Emily studied him suspiciously, knife pointed at his throat.

  Sofi peeked at them from around a corner. The poodle scampered over, oblivious to the tension, tail wagging.

  “It’s Daddy!” Sofi said, breaking out into a big grin.

  “Are you going to doubt your daughter’s intuition?” said Tom, attempting a weak smile.

  Emily did not smile back and held the knife firm. “What in God’s name is going on here?”

  Then she looked up to see a series of strange men approaching the house.

  “Who are these people?” she demanded.

  “His name is Alan.” Tom turned to look and saw Giamatti and Cooper climbing out of Giamatti’s Mercedes. “And those are…those are.…” He stopped. How could he possibly explain any of this? What could he say?

  “Is he inside?” Alan asked, entering the house.

  “Who? My other husband?” said Emily, still tense and angry.

  “Well, yes – the other Tom Nolan,” Alan said.

  “No,” she said. She slowly dropped the hand with the knife. “I’m so lost. I can’t even think straight.”

  Giamatti and Cooper entered the house next.

  “He’s not here,” Alan told them.

  Giamatti muttered a profanity. He looked over at Emily.

  “We have to tell her,” Tom said.

  Giamatti slowly nodded. “Yes, I suppose the cat – or should we say, the robot – is out of the bag.”

  “Ma’am, you’ll need to sign some paperwork,” Cooper said.

  “For what?” said Emily.

  “Do it, honey,” Tom said. “It will allow us to tell you everything.”

  “I guess we can add one more to our inner circle,” Giamatti said. “Mrs. Nolan, you will be privy to information that is highly confidential and classified. You cannot tell your mother, your best friend, your book group.…”

  “Don’t condescend to me,” Emily said. “Just tell me who that maniac was that came in here pretending to be my husband.”

  “Did he hurt you?” asked Tom.

  “No. He wanted our money. He was going through our bank statements.”

  “I’ll call the bank,” Tom said.

  “He took my jewelry.” Emily’s voice rose. “All of it. Everything! Even my great grandmother’s—”

  Giamatti spat, “The jewelry is nothing. He’s wearing a one hundred million-dollar suit!”

  Emily turned to look at the fat, bearded man, perplexed, and then broke out in a short laugh. She walked into the kitchen and tossed the knife into the sink. “This is absurd. None of you make any sense.”

  Tom followed her. “Honey, let us explain. Believe it or not, under all this craziness, there’s some really amazing news.”

  “I don’t know if I can take anything else right now,” she said.

  “These men are c
onnected to doctors and scientists,” he told her. “I can be cured.”

  She stared at him. She only felt more confused. Then she started to cry.

  * * *

  They sat together in the living room and Giamatti told Emily everything. “We’re dealing with the ultimate form of identity theft,” he said sardonically, although no one found it amusing. He vowed they would track down and retrieve Tom’s fugitive shell and wipe it clean of Louis Karp. Giamatti promised Emily that this same shell would one day accept Tom’s digitized mind and memories to sustain his life. “And that,” he said, “I’m sure you will agree, is worth more than all the jewelry in the world.”

  Emily nodded, still dazed. She thought about Sofi, who was quietly playing in her bedroom. “Our daughter – she doesn’t know Tom has a terminal illness. We haven’t told her.”

  “There’s still a chance Louis Karp could return to your house,” said Giamatti. “Common sense dictates he won’t come back. His window of opportunity to take your savings is closed and he probably wants to get as far from here as possible. But you can never be too sure. I’ve asked Cooper to stay with you for a few days. He has a firearm and knows how to use it. He also has a device that can shut down the robot’s functions from fifty feet. It’s like a big ‘off’ switch.”

  “What about Steven?” Tom asked. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “He was choked pretty bad,” said Giamatti. “But he’ll be all right. We’ll cover for his injury. We’ll make sure he’s safe as well. He’s our top scientist.”

  “He’s my friend,” said Tom.

  “Tom,” Giamatti said, “the most important thing we need from you is to act natural. Continue with your life. Tomorrow, report to work like nothing’s happened. We’ll take care of the rest. Can you do that? We’ll keep your house secure.”

  Tom slowly nodded. “I can do that.”

  Giamatti faced Emily. “The same for you. Act natural. Live your life. Don’t draw attention. We have everything under control. You have to trust us.”

  Emily shrugged, a sad look in her eyes. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

  * * *

  The next morning, Tom woke up and began his normal routine – shower, shave, a slip into a sports coat and slacks, and a quick cup of coffee and small bowl of fruit. He grabbed his briefcase, kissed his wife and daughter goodbye, and then thanked Cooper for staying with them.

  “If there’s anything unusual, any new information, anything – please let me know right away,” Tom said.

  “Absolutely,” said Cooper.

  Tom walked the four blocks to the Metra train station. He waited in the early morning sunshine among a crowd of other commuters on the platform for the southbound trains.

  He had several meetings scheduled with clients and his partners. He knew it would be hard to focus. But he would make it through this day. He would not give in to fear.

  The seven forty-five train to Chicago arrived and Tom lined up to enter and find a seat. Once inside, he slid against a window and looked out at the mundane morning activity. The scene looked just like the start of any other weekday.

  Except.…

  His eyes noticed a police officer, then another, enter the crowd of commuters. At first, it didn’t mean much to him but when the numbers increased to four, then six police officers, he grew alarmed.

  “Why aren’t we moving?” asked an impatient commuter in the seat behind him. A growing curiosity rippled through the train as the police presence grew.

  Tom’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and read the text message from his wife. It screamed in all capital letters.

  GET OFF THE TRAIN! RUN!!

  Chapter Eight

  Louis marveled over his newfound strength and stamina. He drove all night without feeling sleepy or hungry, steady as a rock. He reached his destination, Florida, in record time. Someplace nice and warm where he could disappear. He would soon ditch this car. He would lead a new life in a new town with a new face.

  Truth be told, he didn’t like the new face very much. Squeaky clean, cheerful cheekbones, blue eyes and blond hair, suburban dipshit. No scars, no crooked teeth, no beady eyes, no personality. Like a Ken doll from that Barbie and Ken set. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to punch himself in the face.

  And what the hell was under his skin?

  The lab nerds had been vague from the beginning about his ‘cancer treatment’. Waking up as someone else definitely did not come up as a potential side effect. That was freakish in itself – like a Frankenstein thing. At first, he figured they had moved his brain to some other guy’s body, but then the other guy showed up and that was a real mind bender. Once it became obvious the other guy was sickly and the real benefactor of all this hoopla, the game was finished as far as Louis was concerned. He was done being Louis the Lab Rat. Health restored, there was no reason to stick around. He wanted out.

  The weird scar that revealed steel in his forehead – as well as the unnatural power and smoothness of his movements – led Louis to the ultimate wacko conclusion: he was now a machine. These scientists, wrapped up in their whispery secrets, were experimenting with something fucked up and futuristic. It made sense that they wanted him for a test subject, a dying man that nobody gave a shit about. It kept their secrets safe.

  They had used him for their Frankenstein Robot Project and that was fine, because now he had used them to escape into a brand-new life.

  Aside from the smug pretty-boy face, he could get used to this new persona. He regretted he couldn’t keep his alter ego’s hot wife fooled long enough to try out one of his new parts, but with his movie-star good looks he would attract plenty of bronze babes in the Sunshine State. He was mad he hadn’t killed the real Tom Nolan when he had the chance. If it wasn’t for that damned phone call, he could have kept the charade going long enough to siphon his considerable savings.

  Nevertheless, Louis accomplished a couple of quick robberies on his way out of town. After leaving Tom Nolan’s house, he visited the nearest shopping mall and entered a jumbo sporting goods store. First things first. He needed a gun. As he reviewed his options in the Hunting and Firearms department, he was caught off guard by a greeting from the clerk.

  “Why, hello, Tom, what brings you here?” asked a skinny old man in a red vest with thin gray hair and bright white dentures.

  Louis read the name on his name tag. “Hello, Bill.”

  “I miss seeing you in church,” Bill said. “I’ve been going to early mass. Listen, I heard about your illness. I’m really sorry.”

  “Thank you,” Louis said, eyes on the gun display.

  “What happened to your forehead?”

  “My what?” It took a moment for Louis to realize the old man was referring to the strange open cut that revealed a glimpse of gray steel. “Oh. That’s just an allergic reaction.”

  Keeping his eyes on the merchandise, Louis studied his options.

  “What can I help you with?” Bill asked. “What’s your pleasure?”

  “I need a gun. Just something for home protection. We had a run-in with burglars. They threatened my wife and daughter.”

  “Goodness, really?” Bill’s eyes grew wide. “I was going to say, I never thought of you as a gun person, but things change. It’s a jungle out there. I can answer any questions you have. The one I keep at home is a.…”

  The cozy familiarity allowed Louis the opportunity to see merchandise up close. Friendly Bill left the glass display case unlocked. When the choice of make and model was firmed up, and a box of bullets identified, Louis said to Bill, “You have a stain on your collar,” and reached out toward the old man’s throat.

  Like the episode in the lab room, the choking was swift and easy with his immensely powerful hands. Louis wasn’t certain if he had squeezed Bill dead or just strangled the man unconscious, but the i
mportant thing was he was fully armed within seconds. The store security stirred awake from their sleepy suburban tranquility to a genuine reason to fulfill their job duties. They came at him from multiple directions.

  Louis managed to escape without firing a shot – just threatening to do so, dragging a young boy with him for a good length of the store. The poor kid had been looking at baseball gloves and now he was having an adventure he could tell his chums for the rest of his life. As long as the ‘rest of his life’ didn’t expire today due to bad behavior.

  Fortunately, the boy obeyed the commands of a crazy man wielding a gun.

  As Louis made it to the exit, he flung the boy into a carousel of basketball jerseys. He heard a woman exclaim, “Oh my God, is that Tom Nolan?”

  Louis stopped for a moment to make sure the security cameras got a really good look at him and said clearly, for the witnesses, “Who said my name?”

  The woman guilty of identifying him ducked out of view.

  Louis left the store.

  It was time for one of his classic doubleheaders – creating a big stir in one location and then using the distraction to commit a second crime nearby.

  Louis sped one mile down the main road and pulled into a Quick Stop convenience store. He liked the name. Speed and convenience were very important right now.

  Bill’s remark about Louis’s forehead reminded Louis he needed to cover up the alien-looking wound. Inside Quick Stop, he found the aisle with medical supplies and picked out a big adhesive bandage. He reported to the front counter.

  “One bandage,” Louis said to the plump, pimply woman at the cash register. “And one beef jerky.” He pulled an individually wrapped stick from a display box. “Annnnd.…” He paused for dramatic effect and lifted his brand-new gun. “All the money in your register.”

  The woman wet herself. Louis could hear the trickle as it reached the linoleum. She nervously scooped up as much cash as she could from the drawer. Louis also helped himself to a canister collecting spare change for an animal shelter.

  “Mr. Nolan!” said a voice behind him.