by The Awethors
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It would make a nice story to say that when Danny woke up in the hospital his first thought was of Dorinda, but he was a fourteen year old boy who hadn’t had any solid food in a day and a half, so mainly he woke up hungry. After he’d eaten every scrap on the tray that had been left on his bedside table, he did start to worry some. His mental faculties were surprisingly clear; enough to make him start to believe some of Dorinda’s nonsense about how bad kweesh was for a person who needed to think straight. His eyes went to the clock on the wall and he did a mental countdown.
“Shoot,” he muttered, and rolled out of bed. Somebody from home would be here soon, likely Patrick or maybe even Ian. He was going to be in big trouble, so he pulled the IV catheter from his arm, rooted in the bedside cabinet for the bag containing his clothing, and started to dress. While he was dressing, the box on his IV pole began a shrill beeping. He was putting his shoes on when a nurse walked in to check on him. The guy was all muscle, not someone Danny really wanted to mess with, so he smiled and said cheerfully, “My brother called. He’s waiting for me in the lobby. Can I leave now?”
The nurse shook his head and sighed. “You guys are all the same. Can’t wait to get out of here so you can get stoned again. You mind if I check with the doctor first?”
Danny kept grinning, but he was more than a little put off by the guy’s attitude. Trouble was, he’d actually been thinking that even if he didn’t get away in time, at least whoever came for him would have a joint that he might be willing to share. Was he really that predictable?
“Sure. Go ahead. I’ll be fine,” he told the nurse.
As soon as the fellow left, Danny ducked out of his room and down the hallway in the opposite direction, doing his best to look like a visitor who knew exactly where he was going. It worked until he got to the lobby. That’s when he noticed the hand plate of the DNA scanner at the doorway. No wonder there weren’t any security guards anywhere. No one was getting in or out of the building without a DNA scan.
After a few seconds of debate, Danny walked up to the help desk and flashed a friendly smile at the guy sitting there. The unusually pretty boy batted long lashes and gave him a slow, shy smile in return. He raised a brow. How interesting…and useful.
“My name’s Danny. What’s yours?” he asked. The boy’s expression brightened, turning from shy to delighted.
“Hey, Danny. I’m Tom,” he replied in a breathy voice.
Danny leaned up against the desk like he was about to divulge a secret. “Listen, Tom,” he confided. “I was just upstairs with my brother Colin. He’s admitted, and I’m pretty sure there was a mix up when we came in. See…we’re clones, and I think the scanner confused my ID with his.” Danny brought out his own ID (Colin’s was in the other pocket) and showed it to Tom. “See? Scan this one. The computer’ll tell you that nobody by this name is in the building, but you can see I’m here.” Tom took Danny’s ID between two perfectly manicured fingers, keeping eye contact the entire time. Danny bit his lip, forcing himself not to laugh. The poor guy couldn’t help it if he was barking up the wrong tree. Tom’s brow creased in concentration as he scanned the ID, then smoothed as he handed it back to Danny with a warm smile.
“There ya go. All fixed. You’ll be able to walk out now without setting off any alarms,” he replied, as perky as you please. His eyes went back to the screen. “And your sister left a message that she’ll meet you at the airship when she’s done,” he added.
Danny laughed. “Dorinda’s definitely not my sister, but thanks for the message.”
Tom’s brow furrowed. “She seemed like a nice girl. Why wouldn’t you want to admit she’s your sister?”
Danny was starting to think Tom was a heck of a lot prettier than he was smart. “Because she’s just not, that’s why.”
“Well, I sure never saw two people with identical DNA scans who weren’t brother and sister, but if you say she’s not, then I guess she’s not,” he replied, pouting.
Danny studied the fellow. He’d never seen eye makeup like that before. It was a unique look. Then his words registered. “What did you say?”
Tom’s eyes grew wide; his lips parted in distress. He reached out and placed a slender hand on Danny’s arm.
“Sweetie, the only difference between the two of you…besides the obvious…is a tweak for eye and hair color. Otherwise both of you have got to be clones from the same donor,” he explained, his voice dripping sympathy. “Didn’t you know?”
Danny stood there with his mouth open. A second or two later he shut it, cleared his throat, gave Tom an absent nod of thanks and walked out.