Clone

by M A Gelsey

  This seemed to give Harlow pause; he didn’t reply to O’Brien immediately. Mira leaned forward in her seat reflexively, holding her breath as she waited for his response.

  “That is... interesting. To say the least. I’ll handle it.”

  “Handle it how?”

  “You don’t need to know that, Solomon. Just rest assured, it will be dealt with, and quickly.”

  Shortly afterward, O’Brien took his leave. He gave Mira a once-over as he passed her desk, and grunted with what might have been approval. It took less than a minute before her phone rang. When she answered, she heard Harlow’s voice.

  “Mira, get in here.” Harlow hung up without waiting for a reply.

  Mira scrambled to her feet and hurried through the heavy mahogany doors into Harlow’s office.

  “Yes, sir?” she asked. He gestured to the seat across from him, and she sat.

  “What do you know about a group called the Clone Advocacy Network?”

  Mira decided not to feign ignorance; she had read the 2100 article too. “Not much. They’re a group that focuses on clone’s rights. I’m not sure how clear their demands are. I really only skimmed that article in 2100.”

  “I’d like you to reach out to them.”

  “Sir?” Whatever Mira was expecting from this conversation, it wasn’t that.

  “You’ll send them an anonymous message, saying that you’re a black market insider, but you’ve become disillusioned. Tell them you can gain them access. But you have a condition. You first want to know what they’re planning.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mira tried to mask the unease in her voice.

  “You’re to report back to me when they reply. This is a big responsibility, Mira. It’s important that you’re convincing. We can’t afford any mistakes here.” Harlow surveyed her over his steepled hands, as though weighing her worth. He nodded, as if in approval, then dismissed her.

  “I’d like this out by the end of the day, Mira. And remember: come to me immediately when you have a response.”

  “I will, sir.”

  “Stocks are already taking a hit across the cloning industry because of all this Dorcas Pryce nonsense. We don’t need any more bad press because a bunch of upjumped students fancy themselves vigilantes.”

  “I understand.” She didn’t, but no good could come of telling Harlow that.

  “Get to work.” Harlow didn’t wait for a response; he turned back to his computer and Mira left his office, closing the door behind her with a snap.

  It took Mira over an hour to draft an appropriate message for the Clone Advocacy Network, and she sent it off with trepidation. She couldn’t tell whether she was worried for the naive CAN members, unaware of how out of their depth they were, or herself if this failed. Harlow was well known for his intolerance of failure, and often fired employees who displeased him. Mira’s mission would be compromised if that happened, and she couldn’t let her team down, whatever the cost.

  It was quite late by the time she arrived at the seemingly abandoned Chinatown building that served as their headquarters for this operation. Nonetheless, the whole team was there waiting. Jack wordlessly handed her a large coffee when she took her seat at the large table, and she smiled in thanks.

  John was leaning towards Liesel with a warm smile on his face.

  “Did you get teased a lot growing up because of your name?” he asked her.

  “Oh God, yes, constantly,” Liesel laughed. “I was so embarrassed I used to tell people in school that my name was really Lisa.”

  “Did people think your parents named you after The Sound of Music or something?”

  “Number one, I’m kind of surprised that you know that reference, very interesting,” Liesel said. John laughed and his cheeks turned slightly pink. Jack glanced over at Mira and rolled his eyes.

  “And number two, sadly the people who thought I was named for Sound of Music were completely right. I was so angry with my mother when I first saw it because that girl is such an idiot.”

  They all joined in the laughter that time, and Mira thought perhaps she should put John out of his misery and tell him that his clumsy attempts at courtship were pointless: Liesel had been living with her girlfriend for the last five years and they were planning to get married.

  “All right, all right,” grumbled Warren, never able to direct his hostility in Liesel’s direction. “It’s late, let’s get this godforsaken briefing over with.”

  Mira took a sip of her coffee. It was surprisingly good, even without any sugar.

  “Solomon O’Brien sounded worried,” mused Liesel, and Warren nodded in approval.

  “We should consider placing someone with him as well,” John said, in a tone that suggested he thought he’d be the best candidate for the job.

  Warren ignored the hint. “We won’t need to if we can get Harlow. He strikes me as the sort of man who’d be eager to cut a deal. Anything to save his own ass.”

  “There’s something else.” Mira told them about Harlow’s instructions regarding the CAN, and the reasons he’d given her. When she finished, they were all frowning.

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Jack said flatly.

  Warren agreed grudgingly. “It seems ridiculous that someone like Harlow would concern himself with a silly student group.”

  “He didn’t seem interested until he learned that Edgar Midas’s clone was involved. I guess he’s worried they’ll get more of a platform because of that,” Mira said.

  “For good reason,” Liesel said. “Still, it’s a risk for him to get involved personally. I suppose if you got caught, he’d deny knowing anything about it. Should we warn them?”

  “Who?” Warren seemed genuinely confused by her question.

  “The students,” Jack said, before Liesel should speak. “This whole thing just got a whole lot more dangerous now that they’re on Harlow’s radar.”

  Warren scoffed. “Their plan is to take on the black market! That was always going to be dangerous for them. This is an opportunity for us. Harlow is worried. People who are worried are more likely to make mistakes.”

  “But the —” Jack began, but Warren cut him off.

  “The subject is closed, Sterling. We’re here to investigate a pervasive criminal organization that has thus far remained three steps ahead of us. There was always risk involved. That’s the nature of the beast.”

  John cleared his throat. “We do actually have some good news as well. Deirdre Kirke was far more careless than we could ever have hoped. She had a password-protected file called ‘Salvation’. It took a while, but we managed to break into it. Inside, there was a file with a bunch of cryptic numbers and terms all jumbled together. Long story short, we’ve found the darknet market she used. We think its just one of several where Harlow’s clones are auctioned. Liesel’s work.”

  Liesel gave a satisfied smile, Jack clapped John on the back and Warren thumped his hand on the table in exaltation. Mira was stunned that they’d had such a stroke of luck. She hoped it wasn’t lost on Warren that this breakthrough would not have been possible if Jack hadn’t copied the hard drive for them to begin with.

  “When’s the next auction?” Warren asked eagerly.

  “We’re not sure, but we’ll keep monitoring it,” Liesel said.

  “Fitzgerald, I want you and Sterling to start visiting some of these shelters tomorrow. See if your badges can scare the administrators into talking. They probably don’t know the whole story, but they might be able to provide us with a more solid link to Harlow.”

  “Got it,” John said, and Jack nodded as well.

  “Liesel, you’ll run point on the darknet angle. Mira, keep up the good work.”

  The meeting broke up shortly thereafter, and Jack was the first to leave. Mira tried not to feel disappointed that he didn’t ask her to grab drinks with him again. It’s better this way, she told herself, wishing she could believe it.

  32: ANNABEL

  “You’ll help me, won’t you?�
�� Annabel asked Ms. Durant anxiously over tea and lemon squares at the older woman’s new cottage.

  “I don’t know, Annabel. I don’t want to get between you and your husband.” Ms. Durant spoke stiffly. Annabel knew asking for Ms. Durant’s help was a risk, but it was a calculated one. Rex would be far more amenable to her request if Ms. Durant was involved as she would effectively function as a chaperone.

  “But this really should be my decision, shouldn’t it? Rex is wrong to tell me not to do the interview if I want to,” Annabel tried.

  “Not necessarily, dear. Marriage requires compromise, and taking the other person’s views into account. You’re still young, but you’ll learn that lesson before too long. It’s the secret to harmony.”

  Annabel frowned at that. What would Ms. Durant know about it anyway? She wasn’t married and never had been. “I think there’s more to it than that.”

  “Oh, do you?” Ms. Durant hooted, suddenly amused.

  “Yes,” Annabel said, trying her best to ignore the ridicule. “I do.”

  “Why do you want to do this interview anyway, my dear? Your words will be distorted, you’ll be used to make a point for some politician somewhere while humiliating your husband in the process. It’s not worth it.” Ms. Durant picked up a lemon square from the plate and took a refined bite.

  Annabel couldn’t even bring herself to feel guilty for the surge of pleasure she got at the thought of humiliating Rex. “I don’t care. It’s my story to tell. I won’t even talk about Rex. I met him less than two months ago, I barely have anything to say.” The lie hung between them, but Ms. Durant did not remark on it.

  For a moment, Ms. Durant looked like she was suppressing a smile. Then she sighed and said, “On your own head be it. I’ll help you, but I don’t want to hear any complaining afterwards when it goes badly, as we both know it will.”

  Annabel squealed and hugged Ms. Durant, who gave a surprised laugh. “Thank you,” she said, and she meant it.

  “So, a women’s spa retreat weekend? And if he realizes I’m not the type to go to such a place, eh?” Ms. Durant chuckled at this. “He’s known me a long time.”

  Annabel didn’t hesitate. “Don’t worry, I’ll convince him.”

  Ms. Durant took another nibble of her lemon square, followed by a long sip of tea. “I don’t doubt you will, my dear.”

  An hour later, Annabel left Ms. Durant’s house in high spirits. The air was thick and heavy with moisture, and the day overcast; Annabel knew it was likely to storm later, but she didn’t mind in the least. There was something powerful and primal about a thunderstorm that Annabel had always been drawn to.

  She walked through the near-empty town humming to herself, nodding courteously at the few people she passed. Just before she reached the footpath that would lead her home along the bay, she saw a familiar pickup truck parked on a nearby lawn. A fluttering started in Annabel’s stomach, but the owner of the truck was nowhere to be seen. Annabel felt a mixture of disappointment and relief; she didn’t know how she’d look him in the eye after the way she’d been fantasizing about him lately. She drew level with the truck, glancing around in spite of herself, her desire outweighing her embarrassment. And suddenly, he appeared.

  Annabel slowed her pace reflexively when Leon Floros walked out from the backyard of the small wood-shingled house. His eyes snapped to her immediately, and she blushed when she noticed him looking her up and down with a half-smile on his face.

  “Good to see you again,” He commented, coming closer until they were only a couple of feet apart. The fact that he remembered her made Annabel feel far more giddy than it should.

  “You as well,” Annabel said. She was distracted by the sweat that was sliding down his muscular bare chest, and she found herself wanting to run her fingers over the fine dark hair he had there.

  There was a knowing smile on his face when she brought her eyes back up to meet his, and she knew he was fully aware of where she’d been looking.

  “What’s your name?” he asked. He had the faintest hint of a lilting accent, although Annabel couldn’t even hazard a guess as to where he’d gotten it.

  “Annabel,” she said, trying not to sound breathless.

  “Annabel, Annabel. In your kingdom by the sea.” He chuckled. “It suits you.”

  Annabel blinked, confused.

  “Poe,” he said, as though that explained everything.

  “Oh, of course.” Annabel had no idea what he was talking about, but laughed along with him as though she did.

  “I’m Leon,” he said.

  She bit back the “I know” that almost escaped her lips and said instead, “Nice to meet you.”

  From the backyard came a sweaty, balding man dragging a sapling with a large burlap sack covering the roots and the dirt around them.

  “Some help here, Leon?” the man called over his shoulder. “These trees ain’t gonna plant themselves.” He stopped to mop his brow, and when he noticed Annabel he gave Leon a dark look before turning back to his task.

  Leon gazed at her for another moment before speaking. “See you around, Annabel Lee.” He winked and turned away, striding back to where his co-worker was huffing and puffing over the sapling. Annabel watched him for a few more seconds, then wrenched herself away and continued on home.

  Annabel waited until Rex was almost asleep that night before broaching the subject of her weekend away with Ms. Durant. There was a soothing rain pattering outside, drumming gently on the roof and running down the dark windows. Rex lay on his back, a sleepily-satisfied smile on his face. That night Annabel had taken pains to be more enthusiastic than usual about her nightly duties, and she could tell Rex both noticed and appreciated this change.

  “Rex?” Annabel began tentatively.

  “Mmm?” Rex didn’t bother to open his eyes.

  “I saw Ms. Durant this morning, and she told me about this women’s spa retreat she was thinking of doing next weekend. She asked if I wanted to go along with her.”

  Rex’s eyes snapped open.

  “You want to go away with Ms. Durant?” He sounded almost hurt.

  “Only for a weekend. I don’t think she wants to go alone, and I’d like to do something for her since she’s always been so kind to me.”

  Rex mulled this over. “Can’t you do something else? Something here?”

  “I suppose,” Annabel pretended to agree to placate her husband’s fragile ego. “She just seemed very excited about this particular weekend trip. I think if I don’t go she’ll still do it, but just won’t have as good a time.”

  It was a moment before Rex spoke again, but Annabel could tell she was getting to him. “I don’t want other men ogling at you in a towel.”

  “I wouldn’t be comfortable with that either,” Annabel lied. In truth, what he’d described sounded exciting. “But it’s only other women. None of the staff are men either, Ms. Durant said.”

  “Where is this place?” Rex asked.

  “The Hamptons,” Annabel said. “Right by the water. Just like home.”

  “How could you feel at home without me there?” Rex said, playfully nuzzling her neck.

  “You know what I mean,” Annabel said.

  Rex sighed, and Annabel felt his shoulders relax. “All right,” he said in a grudging voice. “I suppose if you really want to go, I can’t think of any reason why not. I’ll miss you.”

  “And I you,” Annabel said, trying to keep the triumph from her voice. “But it’s only a weekend. Ms. Durant will be so pleased.”

  “She deserves a little happiness,” Rex murmured, closing his eyes again.

  “She certainly does,” Annabel agreed. And so do I.

  While Rex was working the next morning, Annabel went for a walk and called Arthur Blair’s office.

  “Annabel King calling for Arthur Blair,” she said, slowly making her way around the bay. She was only on hold for a moment, and when Arthur Blair answered she could hear the suppressed excitement in his voice.


  “Mrs. King. Thank you for getting back to me, I was starting to worry you weren’t interested.”

  “I don’t have much time, Mr. Blair. I’ll be in New York next weekend — you can have your interview then. Don’t contact me under any circumstances — I’ll call you when I arrive. My husband can be . . . jealous and if he sees you calling me he may not let me come.”

  “I understand,” Blair replied. “Please let me know once you arrive in the city and we can do the interview at your first convenience. We’d also like to do a photo shoot that weekend with you and the other two clones we’re featuring.”

  Annabel nearly jumped up and down in excitement, but controlled the impulse.

  “That’ll be fine,” Annabel said in as calm a voice as she could manage. “I’ll call you when I arrive next weekend. I — I look forward to it.” She realized as she said it that it was the truth.

  33: JAVI

  “Whoa,” Herman said when Javi finished describing how he’d lost his virginity in the bed Imogen shared with her husband.

  “I know,” Javi said, feverish in his glee. They were sprawled under their usual weeping willow tree in the park after school the next day. Javi had been bursting to brag about what had happened with Imogen from the minute he’d left her house, but had restrained himself — he’d wanted to be able to tell the story uninterrupted, and he finished it just as Herman took the last few puffs of the joint they were passing around and stubbed out the ashes in the grass.

  “And her kids were running around in the backyard?” Fred asked. “That’s fucking weird, man.”’

  “She started it,” Javi said defensively. “It’s not like I planned for things to go down that way.”

  “Fucking awesome,” Herman said, awed.

  “Fucking fucked up is more like it,” Fred said.

  “And it’s not fucked up that you and Violet fuck in her parents bed sometimes?” Javi retorted, scowling. Fred could be such a hypocrite.

  “Violet isn’t married with two little kids,” Fred said, as though explaining to a petulant first grader that 2+2=4.