The Gemini Experiment

by Brian Pinkerton

  “They need to know I’m okay,” he told Giamatti.

  “They know you’re okay,” Giamatti responded.

  “They need to see it in person,” insisted Tom. Every day was a not-insignificant percent of his remaining life. His health continued to decline, muscle coordination losing to periodic fits of disobedience, a poking reminder that the sand was running out in his hourglass.

  Giamatti had abruptly left for DC to meet with the president and members of his staff. Before departing, he again reassured Tom that they would retrieve his fugitive alter ego. He made promises to sort out Tom’s crime spree so he could return to society. “I have friends in high places,” he said, a favorite saying of his, without specifics. At one point, rather disturbingly, he said, “We could always alter the face on your replica and give you a new identity.”

  Tom was certain Emily and Sofi wouldn’t like that option, but everything had become a massive game of ‘wait and see’ and the vague promise that ‘all will be taken care of’.

  The mansion offered plenty of distractions to at least give him things to do: a rich library of first editions, a home theater the size of a small cinema, an arcade with classic pinball machines and video games, a well-equipped workout room, and a big indoor pool with accompanying hot tub.

  Tom liked to soak in the hot tub. It felt especially good on his weakened muscles and weary joints. Usually he was the only one in the pool room, but one morning Bella Giamatti walked over, pink flesh and white toenail polish, minimally covered in a tiny, tight bikini that reminded Tom all over again that wealth can indeed buy beauty.

  They hadn’t talked much since the night she nearly zapped him with her stun gun, but she gave him a big smile as she slid into the frothy waters, positioned across from him where he couldn’t avoid a stunning view. He felt some tremors, unsure of whether to attribute them to his disease or her proudly displayed supermodel figure.

  Bella Giamatti sat on the hot tub’s top inner ledge, keeping her upper half exposed. She leaned back, resting her arms around the rim.

  Her first comment was about her appearance – a critique. “I’m losing my tone. Not even thirty and I’m starting to sag. My arms, my breasts. I can’t wait to get fitted into that new body.”

  “I’m looking forward to my new body, too,” said Tom, and it was for entirely different reasons.

  “I’m sorry it got away,” she said, as if referring to a dog that ran loose.

  He decided to change the subject and commented on her jewelry. Even stripped down, she wore a big diamond ring and gold necklace. “You never take them off?” he asked.

  “They’re a part of me now and always,” she said. “When I move to my new body, they’ll come with me.” She turned her head to admire her diamond. “I’m careful to keep my jewelry out of the water. The chlorine is corrosive. This diamond is worth six figures. It’s a Winston.”

  The ‘six figures’ value stunned Tom. “When you go out, aren’t you afraid of being robbed?” he asked.

  “I’ve got my stun gun. It’s police grade, very powerful. I keep it in my purse with my lipstick and credit cards. If anyone tries to pull this from my finger, they’ll get the shock of their life.”

  “I almost got the shock of my life the other night.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, and she sounded sincere. “You shouldn’t go creeping around in the dark at all hours.”

  “Insomnia.”

  “I have pills that can help you with that,” she said.

  “No. That’s okay. I just need to see my family. I’m worried about them. Ever since I was diagnosed, Emily’s been a wreck. And now my daughter misses me. She doesn’t understand what’s going on.”

  “Can’t you visit them?”

  “Your husband doesn’t think it’s a good idea. He wants me stashed away in your house.”

  She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Oh, forget him. He’s overdoing it. I’m sure we can find a safe way for you to see your wife and daughter.”

  “I don’t know.…”

  “Let me talk with Simon,” she said, using Giamatti’s first name, something Tom rarely heard. She smiled, and it was a beautiful smile of perfect teeth. She winked. “I can be very persuasive.”

  * * *

  Giamatti returned from Washington and soon after met with Tom in the designated place for conversation, his den, where he could sit in his favorite chair with a drink.

  “We’re going to arrange a very discreet meeting with your wife and daughter,” he said.

  “Thank you,” said Tom, sitting up, excited.

  “One hour, under very select conditions.”

  “Got it,” said Tom.

  “Cooper will accompany you. There’s a small diner thirty minutes north of here, in Waukegan. You’ll meet your wife and daughter tomorrow at ten a.m., before the lunch crowd, in a booth in the back, by the ‘Drink Coca-Cola’ sign. You’ll wear a cap and sunglasses. If anything looks suspicious or risky – too many people or a police officer – we will abort immediately. Cooper will make the contact with your wife to give her the instructions.”

  Tom shut his eyes. He couldn’t wait to see his family. “Thank you. Thank you.”

  And later that day he thanked Bella as well.

  “Now you know who really rules the house around here,” she said with a sly smile.

  * * *

  The selection of Crossroads Diner made perfect sense as soon as Tom stepped inside. It was dim, fairly empty and forgotten, located several blocks away from the main strip, undeserving of a more visible placement in Waukegan’s downtown hub of revitalized restaurants and shops. The parking lot offered gravel, weeds and unclaimed litter. At ten a.m., the only customers were an elderly couple sipping coffee and trading sections of the newspaper, and a quiet woman and child sitting toward the back…Emily and Sofi.

  Tom stopped in the doorway, waiting for instructions from Cooper, who entered the diner with him.

  After a moment, Cooper said, “It’s fine.”

  Cooper retreated to a booth on the other end of the diner to keep a general watch on things and order an omelet. Tom joined his family.

  “Daddy!” said Sofi, as he slid into the booth next to her.

  “Sssh,” Emily said. “Remember what we said about quiet voice.”

  Sofi nodded and then spoke in a tiny whisper. “Hi, Daddy.”

  Tom gave her a hug.

  “So,” said Emily. “How do we know it’s really you and not your rambunctious twin?”

  “Quiz me,” Tom said.

  Emily smiled and said, “All right.” She thought for a moment and then said, “Before Sofi was born, when we didn’t know if it was going to be a boy or a girl, what was the boy’s name we had picked out?”

  “Philip,” Tom said confidently.

  “Philip?” said Sofi.

  “Very good,” Emily said, leaning back and relaxing a little. “You pass.”

  “That was a good one,” Tom said.

  “We’ll make it our password. If I’m ever not sure, and I ask for the password, that will be it. Philip.”

  “Got it,” said Tom.

  “Daddy, why can’t you live at home?” Sofi asked.

  “Well, there’s some confusion right now,” Tom said carefully. “Like a puzzle. We have to fix the puzzle, and then I’ll be back home. Soon, I promise.”

  Emily stared at him. “Soon, for sure?”

  He gave her a private shrug. He really didn’t know.

  A waitress came and took their orders. Sofi ordered a grilled cheese. Tom ordered pancakes. Emily ordered a salad. They were caught in the gap between breakfast and lunch.

  Tom gave one more look around the room. The old couple remained seated several booths away. Cooper sat a few additional booths from that. The diner staff looked bored, occasionally c
hatting with one another behind the counter or poking at their iPhones.

  “How are things?” asked Tom. “Have they quieted down?”

  “A little,” Emily said. “I mean, the…authorities…are still looking for you. They talked to your partners at the firm, but they don’t know anything. They’re worried about you. The media has let up. You’re becoming old news. Thank God you – the other you – didn’t kill—” Then she stopped herself, aware that Sofi was listening.

  “Who got killed?” she asked.

  “Nobody,” said Tom. “Show me how good you can color.” He directed her attention to the crayons and paper menu of cartoons the waitress had given her.

  As Sofi focused on coloring, Tom and Emily spoke frankly about the current situation.

  “We have to clear your name,” Emily said. “This is ridiculous.”

  “It will happen,” Tom said.

  “When?”

  “It’s all part of a much bigger plan. Timing is everything.”

  “But why so much secrecy?”

  “It’s bigger than me. Way bigger.”

  “What good is a scientific breakthrough if you can’t tell anybody about it?”

  The conversation quickly soured. Emily grew emotional, fighting back tears. She wanted to free him from this charade and expose everything for what it really was. “Why do you have to protect them?” she demanded.

  “It’s not just protecting them,” he said.

  “I don’t understand,” she said. “You’re not being fair to us, to yourself.”

  “Giamatti is well connected. I know it hasn’t been smooth, but he will clear my name and most importantly, they are going to save my life. For the sake of our daughter, we need to keep a brave face.”

  “What do I tell my friends? What do I tell the neighbors? What do I tell my parents? This isn’t fair. I don’t know how much longer I can take it!”

  The more upset she became, the more distressed he felt inside. Sofi kept her head down, coloring, but no doubt sensing the tension between her parents. Finally, Tom said, “All right, all right. Hold on.”

  He turned to Sofi. “Sofi, honey, before the food arrives, can you go to the washroom and wash your hands? There are a lot of germs around here.”

  “Okay, Daddy.” She put down the crayons, and he pointed her to the bathrooms.

  He watched her go.

  As soon as she was out of earshot, Tom turned to his wife. “Emily, I trust you more than anybody in the world. So I’m going to tell you something, and it is absolutely the biggest secret ever. You cannot repeat it to anyone at all. If there’s a leak, it would affect the entire world. It’s very, very serious, and I’m not allowed to tell anyone. Only a small handful of people on this planet even know about it. Please, promise me.”

  “Of course,” she said. “You know me. I won’t tell anyone. Whatever it is, you have my word. Tom, what’s going on?”

  Tom took a deep breath. “It’s about the president.”

  In the short window of time that he had before Sofi returned to the table, Tom told Emily about the secret mission to rescue the ailing president by transferring his consciousness to a physical replica. “I’ve been the test to prove it can work. If the secret about me gets out, everything else could unravel. They are going to make the transfer when he’s in town for a campaign speech next week. It’ll happen in Giamatti’s mansion. They’re setting up in his basement. I’m not just muzzled by Giamatti and his scientists, this goes to the highest levels of government.”

  Emily took in the news and grew very quiet. “Oh my God,” she said. “I didn’t know the president was sick.”

  “Very few people do,” said Tom. “In the interests of national security.”

  “So they’re going to switch him out? And nobody will know?”

  “Nobody will know, except for a very small group of people…that now includes you.”

  Sofi returned to the table, arms raised, palms out. “Daddy, look, all clean!”

  Tom smiled and helped her scoot back into her seat in the red booth. Within minutes, their meals arrived.

  Emily grew quieter. After a long silence, she told Tom, “I’m so glad to see you again.” She lightly touched his cheek, as if to make sure he was real. He took her hand and held it for a moment.

  “I love you, Em,” he said.

  Tears returned to her eyes. “I love you, Tom. Please come home soon. Please be safe.”

  * * *

  The dirty white van in the diner’s gravel lot could have been a random, parked utility vehicle or delivery truck, but it was something much more. The van’s contents were hidden from outside view by a black curtain that concealed a small cargo area. In this cargo area, Yefim and Alina sat low with a dense rack of surveillance equipment, headphones fitted snugly on their heads.

  The eavesdropping had started with tapping Emily Nolan’s phone. She had been given a special secured-line cell phone but it only required a little extra effort to hack. This allowed them to hear a conversation with the individual known as ‘Cooper’. Cooper provided instructions for a private meeting, detailing time and place, including the specific booth in the back, where Tom Nolan would meet his wife and child.

  Placing a bug in the booth was quick and easy, and now the two members of the Russian intelligence cell listened to every word of their conversation, exchanging glances as they heard even bigger revelations than they ever could have dreamed.

  The president of the United States was sick and vulnerable. He was coming to Chicago for a secret operation. The Kremlin could do a lot with this information. Mr. Tom Nolan had just given the Russians a very special gift.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tom found Giamatti in the kitchen, where he leaned against a counter, eating big spoonfuls from a bucket of fudge triple swirl ice cream. Giamatti chuckled at himself. “My diet has gone out the window now that I have a new body waiting for me.”

  “We need to talk,” said Tom, hoping Giamatti would recommend they proceed to the den, where all serious conversations took place.

  Instead, he licked his spoon and said, “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

  Tom’s heart pounded. He was still emotional from his meeting with Emily and Sofi earlier in the day. “My wife is in tears. My daughter misses her father. I’m stuck in this house. How much longer must this go on?”

  Giamatti said nothing. He put the lid back on the ice cream. He rinsed the spoon in the sink.

  “I’m getting weaker by the day,” Tom said. “I can’t wait this out indefinitely. When are we getting my replica back? You said it would be soon. How soon? I have to know.”

  Giamatti returned the ice cream to an extra-large refrigerator with double doors. He hung his head, as if carefully calculating his response.

  Tom stared at Giamatti and waited.

  Giamatti turned and faced him. “I received an update on the whereabouts of your shell. There’s an agency inside the CIA, a small one, privy to the president’s condition and the plan to save him. They were brought in to help track and recover our missing creation. They recently shared news that is cause for great alarm…on many levels.”

  “What happened to me?” Tom asked.

  Giamatti gestured to a small kitchen table surrounded by chairs. “You should probably have a seat.”

  “No,” said Tom. “What happened to me?”

  Giamatti sighed. “Louis Karp was abducted. He was captured in Florida by a Russian spy cell.” Giamatti then told Tom about Alan, the agent who infiltrated the ranks of his scientists and now possessed the secrets of digitizing human consciousness. He confessed everything he knew about the Russian threat. “Our latest piece of intelligence indicates that you – your shell – has been dismantled into a series of packages and flown to Moscow through a private shipping company. We have no doubt these parts are now in the
possession of the Kremlin.”

  Tom sat down. He felt sick.

  “I’m sorry, Tom,” Giamatti said. “As difficult as it may seem, it could have been worse.”

  “How?” said Tom in disbelief.

  “Obviously the plan to steal our experiment had been in place for a long time. They could have stolen that shell with you in it.”

  Tom’s head hurt. “So tell me,” he said. “Will you be able to make me a new one?”

  “Yes,” said Giamatti. “We absolutely owe it to you.”

  “How long will it take? Will I get it before I die?”

  Giamatti stammered slightly. “T-timing.… I don’t know yet. It’s a long, involved process. We must first put all our efforts into saving the president. Surely you understand, that must be our priority.”

  “So I’m on a waiting list?”

  “Don’t put it that way. Right now, we have to focus everything on next week. The president will be here, and we will save his life in this very house. You paved the way for that.”

  Tom nodded. ‘You paved the way’ didn’t make him feel any better. He felt helpless. There was no way he could tell Emily about this latest twist of events. It was something that would have to stay inside of him, ugly and gnawing.

  Tom couldn’t help thinking about his alter ego held captive somewhere in Moscow. He was being probed, studied and dissected halfway around the world. Tom felt split in half, separated from his future. Goodbye, my twin, he thought.

  Never to be seen again?

  * * *

  The steady roar of the Airbus A320 jetliner filled the passenger cabin like white noise. As the flight from Paris to Chicago entered its fourth hour, many of the occupants slept under thin blankets or stared into the glow of their laptops while wearing earbuds.

  In seat 4e, a handsome blond man in his mid-thirties sat stiffly, staring forward, deep in concentration. He was preparing a new identity like a method actor, reminding himself, “You are Tom Nolan.”

  Tom Nolan’s replica had been reassembled and equipped with the freshly digitized mind and memory of Alex Nikolaev. It sat among the nearly two hundred other travelers with seamless integration, indistinguishable from real flesh and blood. Russian intelligence provided Alex with a bogus identity, phony passport and security clearances. They set him up with a flight to America: first, a four-hour trip from Moscow to Paris, and now this second leg of the journey from Paris to O’Hare International Airport in Chicago.