“Nice! Great plan!” Titan stated, pushing away to join his brothers.
Garret blew his whistle as the two teams settled into their starting positions.
“Now!” Garret shouted, “The rest of you will need to stay behind the goal area while the ball is in play. DO NOT try to catch the ball or push a player back into the playing zone; that’s why we have tethers.”
“How do we know who’s on what team?” a clone asked Garret.
“Good question,” he stated, hesitant to answer.
“Armada!” Garret hollered, “You and your boys wrap your identity lanyards around your right arm.”
“What’s the winning score gonna be?” an Evan hovering nearby asked Garret.
“For tonight let’s go to three points. If we start playing this regularly, we might take the game to maybe five points or just see what the score is at the end of one hour. But for now, we’re gonna play to three.”
Very few, if any, objected to the plan.
“Here we go, boys!” Garret shouted, “Captains, on your mark?”
Armada and his brethren gripped the rungs on the arena walls and squatted low. Garret paused, looked at the two captains, and gave a powerful, shrill blast on his whistle.
Armada prepped himself for a lunge while clutching the ball. He watched the opposing players closest to him and how they were anticipating his initial launch into the game. Armada gave a mighty push with his legs, as did the two opponents. Armada, however, did not release his grasp on the stabilizing rung and did a backward flip. The opposing pair of clones lunged, met in midair, bumped into each other, and levitated helplessly in the middle of the arena.
Armada, free and clear of any opposition, launched his body into the void with a trajectory that placed him within inches of his team’s first tether. The clones closest to him jumped and waited for his pass. Armada threw the ball just prior to the thirty-second buzzer going off.
Garret pulled himself to the communication kiosk at the portal entry to the arena. He picked up the phone, dialed Riggs’ extension, and turned to watch the game.
“Woodburn,” a voice sternly answered.
“It’s on! Turn on the live feed from the Arena One commons. You’ll wanna see this.”
“Hold on,” Riggs said, rolling his chair to another desk.
“Have they been playing long?”
“Less than two minutes.”
“How do they look?”
“Honestly? I feel like I’m watching my son’s first day at peewee league baseball practice. Except, of course, for Armada. He’s all over the place. Same for Titan Eleven. He and Armada are inseparable.”
“I’m gonna get Wyczthack in on this. Hold on.”
Garret turned around just in time to watch Titan get a complete stretch on his line, catch and drag an opponent back, and release him at full velocity. The clone zoomed through the air and slammed against the padded shell cap right above his head.
Garret and two hundred clones burst out with a simultaneous “WHOA!”
“C’mon, Achilles! Get back in there! Don’t take that!” Garret shrieked.
“I got Doctor Wyczthack on the line with us,” Riggs said.
“Yes, sir. Doctor Wyczthack. Hello, Garret Brock here.”
“Mr. Brock, where are you? What’s all that noise?” Cain inquired.
“I’m sorry, sir … THROW THE BALL … I’m sorry—not you, sir.”
“They’re playing the game, sir. The ‘ZG Ball’ we discussed last week,” Riggs interjected.
“Yes, yes, I remember, Mr. Woodburn. Tell me, Mr. Brock, how are they responding?”
“Sir, if you’ll turn on the live feed from the arena, you’ll see for yourself.”
“Apparently, sir, Armada and Titan are leading the way, as usual.”
“What is their level of functionality, Mr. Brock?”
“Functionality? Have y’all ever put tape around a cat’s paw?” Garret asked, laughing out loud as he observed the clones, “Heck, these boys’ll get the hang of it soon enough. They’re not used to developing strategy, at least not against an opponent while in an environment with zero gravity.”
“What’s their level of aggression, Mr. Brock?”
“Aggression? Well, this ain’t Monday Night Football I’m watching. They’re having fun, though, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Fine; thank you, Mr. Brock. I’ll check in again,” Cain solemnly stated and abruptly hung up the phone.
“Okay … sir … thank you, sir.”
“He’s off the line, Garret.”
“Oh, okay. Is he always like that?”
“He just wants the facts, not the friendship. Don’t take it personally.”
“All righty, then.”
“Has anybody scored yet?”
“Nah … it’ll be a while before anything…,” Garret turned away from the kiosk screen to finish his statement, “happens up here.”
“Keep me posted on what the score is.”
“Yes, sir. Will do.”
Garret clumsily hung up the phone as he focused his attention on Armada, who, at that very moment, was attempting to pass the ball.
No sooner had Garret hung up from his conversation with Riggs that almost sixty minutes passed by, and not one point had been scored by either team.
“Titan! Pull me forward! Fast!”
Armada had no sooner shouted to his friend when two tethers from the other team set him, and the ball, in their sights and thrust themselves in his direction.
“Coming!” Titan called out.
Armada floated helplessly, looking for one of his teammates to whom he could pass the ball safely. Titan and the two opposing tethers simultaneously reached out for Armada, grabbing him by his free arm and both legs.
“Don’t let go!” Armada grunted to Titan, struggling to keep his grasp on the ball.
“C’mon, Armada! You can’t hold on forever!” one of the tethered players griped.
“Help!” Titan shouted to his tethered teammates.
“We can’t!” one hollered, “Ten more seconds. The timer is about to blow!”
“Pull! Pull him back!” Garret added.
The thirty-second buzzer blasted and the remaining tethers, along with the rest of the players, hurled themselves at the tug-of-war hovering at midfield.
“Get the ball!” and “Pry his hands loose!” the men laughed and shouted at each other. Garret held on to the rungs at the kiosk as tightly as he could, laughing uncontrollably.
“Get ‘em off one at a time!” Armada barked, “One at a time!”
“Start at the legs!” Titan snapped at his brothers.
“C’mon, guys! One point!” Garret yelled, “We want one point!”
“One point! One point!” the onlookers chanted.
“Get ‘em off my legs!” Armada again shouted, laughing along.
His teammates managed to wrangle one of the opponents from his left leg and push him to the far end of the arena. They then doubled up on the next man and sent him sailing to join his teammate.
“One point!” Garret and the clones continued to shout.
“That’s it, boys! Keep it up!” Titan urged as Armada twisted and flailed to maintain possession of the ball.
Armada’s brothers managed to pick off the ten players and send them floating forty feet back, away from their goal.
Now, all that remained of the opposing team were the three tethers.
“Okay, boys, here’s what’s gonna happen,” Armada coached his brothers. “Titan, you three keep your tension constant. When I give you the signal, pull their arms away and let go. They’ll shoot backwards and when y’all let go of me, I’ll fly forward as your cords recoil.”
“C’mon, Armada, that’s not fair,” the other tethers complained.
“C’mon what?” Titan taunted, “We’re here to win!”
“One point!” and “Armada!” Garret and the Evans shouted.
“Help! Help!” the thre
e clinging tethers called out to their stranded teammates.
“Here we go! Time to fly!” Armada warned.
“One … two … three,” they counted out loud.
In perfect unison the ten players managed to pry loose the grip of the opposing three tethers. Titan and the two other tethers flew forward, pulling Armada with them. The tethers from the opposite team flew backwards as their cords recoiled. At just the right moment, Titan and his brothers let go of Armada. He soared through the air, virtually unobstructed, directly to the hoop at the end of the arena. Armada lightly pushed the ball away from him and into the net.
From the noise level of the celebration that ensued, one would have thought the last play of the Super Bowl had just occurred.
Armada was met with open arms as he floated past the goal. His brothers plucked him out of the air, patted him on the back, and scruffed his hair.
Garret picked up the kiosk phone and dialed Riggs’ extension.
“Riggs,” he stated bluntly.
“Game over!” Garret shouted, high-fiving a clone as he floated by.
“Really? Who won?”
“Does it matter? They love it! That’s all we were worried about. Right? I mean just listen to ‘em! Enable a live feed!”
Riggs turned to his computer and opened the video stream of the arena.
“Wow! How much sugar did you give ‘em?”
“You know why they’re all wound up?”
“Let me guess—Heckle and Jeckle?”
“Those two are why these guys are so excited. If Titan and Armada weren’t leading this thing, it woulda flopped. I guarantee.”
“Hold on, I better get Wyczthack in on this.”
Riggs keyed in the extension for Dr. Wyczthack.
“Cain,” he listlessly stated.
“Dr. Wyczthack, this is Riggs and I have Garret Brock on the line again.”
“What’s that noise!?” Cain asked, pulling the phone away from his ear.
“Game’s over, sir. They loved it!” Garret declared.
“Sir, if you’ll activate the live video feed from the arena…,” Riggs suggested.
“This is the best test, best experiment you’ve ever come up with, if you ask me. Better than any other simulation we’ve implemented, too.”
Cain watched the streaming video as he halfheartedly chatted with his subordinates.
“In your own words, Mr. Brock, please give me the reasons as to why you are of the opinion that this experiment is such a roaring success.”
“My reasons, sir? Well, if you linked into the video feeds you’ll see two hundred reasons. I mean, I’ve never seen them behave like this.”
“Sir, I agree with Garret. In the three years I’ve been working with the Evans, I, like Garret, have never observed an entire pod interact with one another like we have this evening, let alone two complete classes.”
“Was it merely the game, gentlemen? Or is something deeper?”
Dr. Wyczthack leaned closer to his monitor to watch the ongoing celebration.
“Garret thinks it’s something more.”
“Oh, I know it is! It’s not the supplements, it’s not the accelerated education … it’s none of that. No disrespect, sir.”
“None taken, Garret. Please, continue.”
Riggs struggled to stifle his laughter as Garret continued with his lecture. In the meanwhile, Cain quickly accessed the personnel files in the server of the Engenechem Department of Human Resources.
“Hold on,” Garret stated and placed his palm over the phone, then picked up the microphone for the speaker system, “All right, guys, that’s it for tonight. Lights out in thirty minutes.”
The Evans protested just as a toddler whining about an early bedtime.
“Now?”
“It’s not even ten!”
“C’mon, Dad, just a little longer.”
“Get movin’!” Garret ordered, “Titan, I want all six tethers from you and the other girls.”
“Yes, Mother.” Titan echoed, sarcastically.
Cain and Riggs waited for Garret to resume the conversation, but did not hesitate to enable the microphones on the video cameras.
The company of clones floated by Garret at the kiosk before splitting off to the transfer tubes leading to the dormitories. As they passed by, Garret was met with a barrage of taunts like “Good night, Pops,” “Come tuck me in,” and “Will you read me a story.”
“Okay, I’m back. Sorry for the delay,” Garrett announced.
“Quite all right, Mr. Brock. Tell me, when did they start addressing you as pops?”
“I don’t remember them ever being that informal and personal with me. In or out of class,” Riggs jealously admitted.
“This is what I’m talking about. Something’s happening and it has nothing to do with your experiments or cloning process. It’s them.”
“Them who, Mr. Brock?”
“Armada and Titan, sir. Something has changed, something internal, intellectually speaking.”
“In what way?”
“Garret, if you don’t mind me jumping in, I’d like to answer that. Sir, I tend to agree with him. I noticed it as well a few months ago during the EVA simulations. Armada’s social interaction was off the chart, comparatively speaking. Not so much for Titan, but it appears that he’s slowly catching up to his brother.”
“And the two of you believe this is bad?”
“No, sir, not at all,” Garret added, “I’m merely saying there’s something uniquely and undeniably different about Armada Nine and Titan Eleven. If they hadn’t been playing tonight or leading this thing, I honestly think the results would be less than stellar. I’m sure they’d had a good time, but not like this. Those two are affecting the rest of your kids in more ways than you imagined.”
“Thank you, Mr. Brock, for your insight and advice,” Cain blurted insincerely and abruptly disconnected the call.
“I don’t wanna get anyone in trouble, Riggs. I’m just saying that there’s something different with Armada and Titan. And whatever it is that’s making them appear to be more human won’t be found in their blood.”
“I know. It’s okay; don’t worry about it.”
Riggs looked at his phone and noticed that Cain was calling him back on another line.
“Hey, Garret, I got another call coming in.”
“Oh, okay; say, listen, tomorrow can….”
Riggs hung up from his conversation with Garret without so much as a goodbye.
“Woodburn,” Riggs answered.
“I want you to bring down Armada Nine and Titan Eleven tomorrow for an evaluation,” Cain commanded.
“Yes, sir. What time?”
“Two o’clock at the Nursery on seventeen.”
***
“I don’t understand why it’s so urgent that we have to undergo another evaluation,” Titan complained, “Just you and me? None of the others from either of our control groups is getting this kind of treatment.”
“I betcha they just wanna know what we thought of their new game,” Armada commented.
The twins removed their helmets as they entered the elevator.
“What time is it?” Titan asked.
“Twelve-thirty. We’ll be about half an hour early. Which means you and I have time for a little adventure.”
Armada stepped to the control panel and pulled down on a tilt-out keyboard.
“Whoa! What are you doing?”
“Garret said Riggs told him that we were to be at the Nursery on seventeen at two o’clock. Right?”
“Yeah, but….”
“Riggs never mentioned anything about where he wanted us to be before we went to our appointment. Hey, stand behind me to my left and just act normal.”
“What are you doing? Where are you taking us?”
With Titan blocking the view of the video camera in the elevator cab, Armada quickly gained access to the records for every elevator in the SUBOS. Armada quietly explained his plans as he a
ltered the time stamps to allow for their unauthorized excursion.
“I don’t know. This doesn’t feel right.”
The elevator came to an abrupt stop, startling Titan. Seconds later the two doors parted.
“What happened? What’d you do?”
Armada pushed the folding keyboard back into the control panel and picked up his helmet.
“That, my partner in crime, is destiny calling. Adventure is ours for half an hour.”
The anxious twins nervously poked their heads out to get a quick peek at the new surroundings. With the exception of one security station and two guards, the coast was clear.
“Where are we?” Titan whispered loudly.
“Sixteen A.”
“Sixteen A!?” Titan hissed, slapping Armada’s shoulder, “Are you freaking kidding me? You know we’re not authorized to be up here!”
Titan’s comments went unacknowledged.
“We need to get across to the bank of local elevators,” Armada muttered.
Titan paced back and forth, mumbling to himself as Armada pondered their predicament.
“Wyczthack is gonna put us in quarantine when he finds out.”
“You mean IF he finds out. Here’s what we’re gonna do: put your helmet on your left side and I’ll be on your right. You look the other way so that if the guards see us they won’t get anything but a quick glance at my face. We’ll simply stroll to the other side of the landing and hop aboard one of the waiting elevators.”
Titan stared at Armada with his mouth agape.
“Oh, it’s so simple! We’ll just stroll out and hop on!”
“You got it! Let’s go! We gotta be back in a SUBOS elevator in twenty-five minutes.”
The nervous duo placed their helmets under their left arms and briskly strode to the waiting elevators on the opposite side of the hall. Titan looked down and away whereas Armada intentionally turned his head to the right and smiled. Just before reaching out to the elevator buttons, one of the armed security guards glanced at Armada. With a slight nod and halfhearted wave, Armada and Titan entered the waiting elevator, avoiding direct eye contact with the uninterested officers.
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