Linkage: The Narrows of Time (26 page)

The twin domes started revolving around each
other, cutting a deeper channel into the earth as if they were
solidifying their traction. After five revolutions, a
crescent-shaped energy field appeared just above the swirling
anomalies, growing brighter until it discharged a glistening orb of
energy. The energy blast resembled a giant Tic Tac breath mint and
traveled swiftly away from the twin domes, toward the upper
atmosphere. Seconds later, the bomber’s video feed went offline,
filling the screen with random flickers of static.

“Not so
stealth
after all,” Lucas
mumbled.

The two domes progressively slowed their
rotation and merged into one super-sized energy field, before
resuming its original course and speed.

“That should put an end to the Big Ivan
idea,” Drew said.

“And to Seoul,” Lucas replied.

“How will we know if Earth’s orbit was
changed?” Bruno asked.

“We’ll have to run a few calculations,” Drew
answered.

“Or just wait for the weather patterns to
change,” Lucas said.

“Boss, what would you like us to do next?”
Bruno asked.

“Let’s get some shut-eye and start fresh in
the morning.”

Chapter
20

Wednesday, December 26

7:02 AM

Lucas and Drew rode the elevator down from
Sublevel 2, where they found Kleezebee and Bruno standing together
in the middle of the surveillance room. Lucas took the last sip of
his soda and tossed the can away in the trash bin next to the
elevator.

“That food was pretty good, considering,”
Drew said.

“I thought the eggs were a little bland, but
the bacon was just the way I like it—extra greasy.”

“Mom didn’t seem to like it much. She barely
touched her food.”

“She said she didn’t sleep well last night,
being in a new place and all.”

“We should go back up later to check on
her.”

“Yeah, for sure. Did you bring your
notebook?”

“Got it in my backpack. Did you need it?”

“Yep, let’s show DL your QED equations.”
Lucas walked up behind Kleezebee, where he overheard part of the
professor’s conversation with Bruno.

“By the time you get him outfitted, I’ll have
its location and the rest of the assets in place,” Kleezebee
said.

“What are the ROE’s, boss?” Bruno asked.

“Stun only. There had better not be any
casualties this time.”

“Count on it, sir.”

Lucas looked up at the middle row of video
screens, which showed activity at three locations he recognized.
The first was his apartment complex, where military troops had
surrounded the building. A squad of men was approaching the front
entrance.

The second location was a lengthwise view of
his mother’s neighborhood. The camera was too far away to see much
detail, but Lucas could see soldiers and Humvees lining the
street.

The third screen contained a high-angle feed,
possibly shot from the clock tower of the Student Union, showing a
platoon of men guarding the open shaft leading down to NASA’s
underground facility. Two soldiers were standing next to the
opening, prepping their climbing gear.

Kleezebee looked at Lucas and said, “It’s
General Alvarez. He’s searching for you.”

“Where? I don’t see him,” Lucas said,
checking the three middle screens.

“He’s outside your apartment.” Kleezebee
asked his techs, “Can you give me a close-up? I want to see who
he’s talking to.”

The camera zoomed in on General Alvarez
standing near the door to the manager’s office, then panned to the
right, showing a shorter man with two black eyes and a heavy gauze
bandage taped over his nose, and another covering the center of his
forehead.

“That guy’s a mess,” Lucas said.

“Must be the guard L overpowered in the
desert,” Kleezebee said. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Lucas smiled with pride.

“Alvarez is never going to stop until you’re
dead, too,” Bruno told Lucas.

Lucas agreed with Bruno—Alvarez was never
going to stop looking for him. “So what’s the plan, Professor?”

“I’m afraid we have no choice. We’re going to
have to kill you.”

Lucas wasn’t sure what to make of the remark.
“You’re just kidding, right?”

“I’m dead serious. You need to die a
horrible, public death or else the general will never stop gunning
for you. Follow me.”

Kleezebee used the hidden access panel inside
the fire extinguisher to open the secret entrance to the med-lab
where Trevor was working inside.

“Let’s get started,” Kleezebee told
Trevor.

Trevor retrieved a bucket of BioTex from the
shelf and poured it into the middle recess of one of the medical
tables.

“Ah, you’re going to duplicate me again?”
Lucas said.

“Precisely,” Kleezebee said.

“But what about my replica’s body dissolving
into BioTex?”

“You mean like what happened to D in the
desert.”

“Yeah. We don’t want the general getting
suspicious.”

“That obviously didn’t go according to plan.
We had no idea Alvarez would incapacitate them, which didn’t allow
‘em to refuel for the rest of the day.”

“So D ran low on sugar reserves, which is why
he dissolved too quickly.”

Kleezebee nodded. “Temperature and humidity
can also affect dissolution time which is normally several hours.
This time we’re not taking any chances by letting the general
capture you. Instead, he’s going to see your replica die, but we’re
not going to leave any forensic evidence behind.”

Trevor reached above the medical table and
lowered a retractable arm with a flat, four-pronged electronic
probe attached to its end. A bundle of multi-colored wires
connected the probe to the retractable arm’s housing which Lucas
presumed was used for the programming download. Trevor checked the
contents of a four-inch gray plastic tube that was attached to the
side of the electronic probe. The plastic tube resembled a tube of
caulk and had a funnel-shaped tip.

“What’s that?” Lucas asked.

“It injects the BioTex with the activating
enzyme.”

Trevor inserted both the electronic probe and
the plastic tube tip-deep into the surface of the BioTex, then
entered a series of commands into a handheld device. The area
around the probe’s submerged tips began to glow like an underwater
diver’s flashlight, only this one was orange. A minute later,
Trevor removed the probe and allowed it to retract to the
ceiling.

Kleezebee grabbed Lucas’ right wrist and
inserted his hand into the BioTex. Lucas held his breath when the
viscous substance sent a warm sensation rippling across his skin.
He could sense the synthetic being’s presence as it smothered his
hand and wrapped around his nervous fingers. It felt like a freshly
mixed batch of pre-heated Play-Doh as it seeped into the crevasses
between his fingers. The pliable material had tremendous strength,
squeezing his hand tight and partially restricting the blood flow.
The DNA transmission was in full swing.

Lucas wondered if parts of his consciousness
were being harvested as well. If that were true, would that somehow
make him less of a human being? He considered the spiritual
implications of the BioTex technology:

Certain religious groups might argue that
one’s rightful place in heaven could come into question if he
allowed his soul to be transferred to another being. Others might
proclaim that once his consciousness was downloaded, the synthetic
copy should be considered a sentient being and eligible for
salvation. Even more compelling was the question of replica
dissolution. What would happen if the replica’s handlers ordered it
to dissolve into an inert state and effectively lose its
self-awareness, would that be considered suicide, or perhaps
homicide?

Drew and Lucas had both been raised to be
good Christians by their mother. Dorothy was a devout Catholic, but
never forced her religious beliefs onto the other members of her
family. She allowed Lucas and Drew to find their own path and
decide for themselves. “Faith is a personal journey,” she would
preach. “Each of you must find your own path to God.”

Unlike his brother, Lucas had trouble
accepting most of the Church’s doctrine, feeling that 90% of the
world’s population had been tricked into donating their hard-earned
money to something that could never be proven or quantified. He
believed their fear of mortality was masquerading as blind
faith.

Regardless of his own personal beliefs, Lucas
had difficulty resolving the conflicting religious and scientific
viewpoints raised by the BioTex technology. The more he thought
about it, the more his mind fluttered. He decided it was best if
those philosophical questions were discussed by persons with more
life experience, certainly not by a naive college student who had
just stuck his hand into the cookie jar.

Once his memory and DNA were downloaded, the
BioTex released his hand and Lucas stepped away to observe the
transformation process. One by one, his features began to appear
from within the synthetic ooze. It was as if he were watching a
rendering of a 3D computer-generated model, except it was occurring
in real-world space.

Drew asked Kleezebee, “How long have you guys
been developing this stuff?”

“Longer than I care to admit. It’s been a
long, slow process but the results have been worth the effort.”

“I should say so,” Lucas replied. No wonder
the professor was never in his apartment; with everything on the
man’s plate, when did Kleezebee have time to sleep? Between his
university duties, his real estate development operation, managing
the silo, and developing all this cool new technology, Kleezebee
must have been stretched pretty thin. It brought the meaning of
multi-tasking to a whole new level.

Drew said, “I assume you’re using
nanotechnology to manipulate its synthetic framework. Some form of
real-time genetic engineering. I would love to know more about how
this stuff works.”

“Perhaps, when we have more time,” Kleezebee
replied, reviewing a batch of paperwork just brought into the room
by a video technician.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the replica sat up on the
medical table, turned its head, then spoke to Lucas using his own
voice, “Hello, I’m Dr. Lucas Ramsay, pleased to meet you.”

Lucas studied every millimeter of his twin’s
face, looking for imperfections in the replication process, but
finding none. Even his jagged scars and dimpled cheeks were
duplicated perfectly. The replica smiled at him.

“Nice job with the Xerox. Can I ask it some
questions?” Lucas asked, wondering if this copy was more stable
than the last. Or would Bruno have to tackle this one, too?

“Sure, fire away, L won’t mind,” Kleezebee
said.

“Do you know you’re a copy of me?” Lucas
asked his twin.

“Sure do. I’m a BioTex duplicate of the
single greatest mind on the planet!”

“Oh, yeah, that’s you, all right,” Drew said
after a moment’s chuckle.

“What’s was the name of Dad’s favorite TV
show?”

“The X-Files,” his twin answered correctly.
“Dad had a major hard-on for Scully, the redhead.”

“And Mom’s favorite?”

“Mom never watched TV. She preferred to curl
up with a good book and a bowl of homemade strawberry ice
cream.”

“Right again. But those were simple. Let’s
try something a bit harder,” Lucas said, formulating a trick
question. “How many girlfriends have you had and what were their
names?”

“We have had only one real girlfriend. Her
name was Jill and she was this smokin’ hot blond who lived up the
street. We were fourteen at the time and spent hours making out in
her parents’ basement. But she never let us past second base.”

Lucas looked at Kleezebee and nodded.

Then his replica added, “However, we did lose
our virginity to a forty-year-old librarian named Robyn. Our
performance lasted only thirty seconds before she ran off crying to
her car because—”

“Okay, that’s more than enough,” Lucas said,
throwing his hands up in the air. He realized the replica had no
real emotions and certainly no shame. Otherwise, his clone never
would have admitted his premature conclusion with the older woman,
especially in front of his boss. He felt two inches tall and wished
he’d never asked that last question.

“Convinced?” Kleezebee asked.

Lucas nodded, thinking about the replica’s
curious use of the “we” term in its last answer. He wondered if it
were a conscious effort on the part of the duplicate, or maybe it
was some type of residual personality trait inherited from him? Too
bad he hadn’t taken a few psychology classes during his undergrad
work; he might have been able to answer that question.

Lucas slid two steps backward when the
replica jumped down from the table and stood uncomfortably close to
him. He told it, “Don’t you need to go eat a box of candy bars or
something?”

“Bruno, why don’t you take L down to
outfitting? I’ll send the updates down when they’re ready,”
Kleezebee said.

Chapter
21

Dreamscape

Replica L followed Bruno into the armory on
Sublevel 5 where three more soldiers were putting on equipment
vests and checking their rifles. Each was an exact copy of Bruno,
making L feel like he’d just walked onto the set of Rod Serling’s
Twilight Zone. “How many of you are there?”

“Eleven in all,” Bruno said.

“How do you tell yourselves apart?”

“We can’t, that’s half the fun of it,” Bruno2
said, stepping aside to allow the other two Bruno copies to leave
the armory.

“I assume the real Bruno is walking around
here somewhere?”

“Actually, he died a long time ago. He was
one of DL’s oldest friends and the professor’s been replicating us
ever since,” Bruno said, handing L a set of combat fatigues and
boots. “Here, put these on while I find a vest for you.”