Who Cloned the President? (4 page)

The two shadows came closer. Horror-struck, KC realized she could see her breath. She clapped both hands over her nose and mouth. Next to her, Marshall did the same.

One of the men stopped only inches from KC. She saw a pair of legs and dark leather shoes.

KC dared to look up from behind the boxes. The man standing there had been in the room with that awful guy in the white coat.

“Nah, it’s all vegetables and meat,” the man said. “No good stuff.”

The feet turned and left. The door shut behind them. KC began to breathe again.

The president stepped out from behind some hanging beef. “Marshall, KC? Are you okay?” he asked.

“J-just a little c-cold,” Marshall said.

“Come on,” President Thornton said, walking to the rear of the chamber.

At the end of the freezer, the president shoved aside a few sides of beef. Behind them was a blank metal wall. Then the president said, “Zachary Thornton,” in a clear voice. KC heard a whirring sound, and the wall slid sideways. In its place was a door.

The president punched in a code on the keypad by the door. The door opened. The kids followed him into a dark tunnel.

“This is so cool!” KC said.

“This secret passageway was built a long time ago,” the president explained. “I think Teddy Roosevelt used it once.”

“Where does it go?” Marshall asked, peering down the dim tunnel.

“You’ll see, but let’s hurry,” the president said.

The tunnel sloped downhill for a while, then up. At the end, they climbed stairs leading to a door.

This one had a steel bar locking it from the inside. The president slid the bar out of its brackets. Behind the bar was a hole. The president reached into the hole and pulled out a tube.

“Periscope,” he said, putting his eye to the tube. After a moment, he said, “All clear. Let’s go!”

When the president pulled the door open, KC saw streetlights and cars whizzing by. “We’re on Pennsylvania Avenue!” she said.

“That’s right,” the president said. “Just outside the White House fence.”

They stepped through a narrow door onto grass. KC looked back. The door was hidden in a hollow concrete pillar that supported the gate to the White House grounds. When the president closed the door again, it disappeared.

“We can walk to my apartment,” KC said. “It’s not that far.”

The president shook his head. “No, a taxi would be faster. I’m not exactly dressed for walking in February!”

He stepped to the curb, put two fingers into his mouth, and whistled loudly.

A taxi appeared and slowed down. The driver took one look, then sped away.

The president laughed. “I must look pretty strange,” he said. His next whistle brought another cab. This one stopped.

“Where to?” the cabby said as the three
climbed into the backseat. She didn’t seem to care about the man in his bathrobe and slippers.

“Five hundred 3
^rd
Street,” KC said.

“Got it!” The cabby pulled away with a squeal of tires. She looked in the rearview mirror. “Anyone ever tell you you look just like the president?” she asked. “You could be his clone!”

KC looked at Marshall and President Thornton. They all burst out laughing.

“What?” said the cabby. “What’s so funny?”

Ten minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of KC and Marshall’s building.

The president reached for his wallet. “Oops.” His face turned red. “I forgot that I’m in my pajamas. Sorry, but I—I don’t have any money on me.”

KC rattled the money in her pack. “I do!” She counted out the fare and gave the driver a tip.

“Have a great night!” the cabdriver said before she zoomed away.

Marshall rang the bell on their building. A sleepy-eyed, yawning Donald came to the door. He woke right up when he saw KC and Marshall standing in the street.

Donald opened the door and let the three in. “What are you kids doing out at midnight?”

“Research for our reports,” KC said, heading for the elevators.

“Oh, by the way,” she added over her shoulder. “This is the president.”

“We’re all going to my floor,” KC told Donald in the elevator.

Donald stared at the president as the elevator rose. The president grinned and whistled “Yankee Doodle.” Marshall yawned and scratched his mosquito bite.

At the fifth floor, they all got out. “Good night, Donald,” the president said.

Donald beamed. “Good night, Mr. President, your highness!”

KC used her key to let them into the apartment. Her mother was lying on the sofa reading a book.

“Katherine Christine, what are you
doing here?” she said. “I thought you were at Marshall’s.”

Then she noticed Marshall. “Why aren’t you in bed? What’s going on?”

And then KC’s mom saw the man in the red pajamas and blue bathrobe.

“Mom, I’d like you to meet the president,” KC said. “Mr. President, this is my mom, Lois Corcoran.”

The president made a little bow. “Delighted, Ms. Corcoran. I owe my life to your daughter and Marshall.”

KC’s mother stood and removed her reading glasses. She stared at the man in front of her.

He was in his night clothes. He needed a shave. But he was smiling, the way he smiled in his posters.

“Oh my goodness!” KC’s mother said,
looking down at her outfit. “I’m in my bathrobe!”

The president held out his hand. “So am I,” he said. “So we’re even.”

KC scooted Lost and Found off a chair. “I hope you aren’t allergic to cats,” she said to the president.

“I love ’em,” he said. “I have a cat in the White House for company.” Then he looked at KC’s mother. “May I use the phone? I need to alert the CIA that we have some scoundrels in the White House.”

“You can use the one in the kitchen,” KC’s mom said, pointing the way.

While the president was gone, KC told her mother the whole story.

“Spiders?” KC’s mom asked.

“Well, it worked,” KC said.

“You really released spiders in the
Lincoln bedroom?” her mother said as the president walked back into the room.

Marshall looked up at the president. “Will I get in trouble?”

The president laughed. “Not at all! You two and those spiders are heroes!”

“How did it happen?” KC asked the president. “I mean, how did you get cloned?”

The president pulled up a chair. “It was a very clever plan, actually,” he said. “A scientist named Dr. Jenks figured out a way to clone humans. He and his greedy friends spent years perfecting the process. They learned how to make an adult clone from a hair sample. That’s what they did with me.”

Lost and Found jumped into the president’s lap. They began purring.

The president continued. “When my clone was ready, Dr. Jenks set up a meeting to discuss his cloning ideas. I listened to what he had to say, but I told him I was against the cloning of humans.”

The president shook his head. “We were having coffee. It was late. My staff had gone home. The last thing I remember is Dr. Jenks saying good night and shaking my hand.”

He looked at his listeners. “He must have drugged my coffee and ordered the clone to give the real guards the night off. That was yesterday. I woke up this morning in the basement dressed like this.”

“They must have given your suit to the clone,” KC said. “You looked drugged when Marsh and I first saw you.”

The president nodded. “The drug wore
off, but I pretended I was still asleep so I could listen. With me out of the way, the clone could lie to the world and announce the new cloning policy. Dr. Jenks and his team would make millions cloning humans!”

“But that would be awful!” Marshall cried. “We have to stop them!”

“Don’t worry, Marshall,” the president said. “The CIA is on the case.”

While the president chatted with her mom, KC closed her eyes and dozed off in her chair. She dreamed about Cindy Sparks announcing the news tomorrow:

Local fourth-grade heroes rescue President Thornton and save the world!

KC peeked out the window in the Oval Office. “Look, Marsh, I see Mr. Alubicki! He’s in the fourth row with our class! And there’s my mom and your parents!”

Marshall joined her at the window. “Our whole school is out there! Cool!”

It was a week later. KC and Marshall had received A’s for their reports. To Marshall’s surprise, President Hoover had collected bugs when he was a kid!

But the big surprise was the phone call from the president’s secretary. KC and Marshall were invited to the White House. They were going to receive a special
award for rescuing the president!

The door opened, and the president walked in. He was carrying two small jewelry boxes. “We’ll be going out to the lawn in a few minutes,” he said. “But first, I wanted to thank you two in private.”

KC blushed.

Marshall noticed a spider crawling down a wall. “Hey, I wonder if that’s one of mine!” he said.

The president smiled. “Could be. But don’t worry, it’ll be safe here. I’ve issued a memo to all staff. Starting now, spiders are special guests in the White House.”

The president handed Marshall and KC each a box. “Please open them,” he said.

KC lifted the fancy lid. On a layer of red velvet, she found a satin ribbon and a round gold medal.

“It’s beautiful!” she said.

“This is real g-gold!” Marshall cried.

“Read what’s inscribed on the medals,” the president said.

KC read hers. In a circle were the words:
To KC Corcoran for Bravery
. She flipped her medal over. On the back was an engraving of a spider.

“This is so cool!” Marshall said, hanging his medal around his neck.

“I have one, too.” The president unbuttoned his suit jacket and held up his medal. “Mine is just like yours. But it has both your names on the front.”

“And a spider on the back?” Marshall asked.

The president grinned at Marshall. “Yep. A spider on the back.”

A man peeked in the door. “Mr.
President, they’re ready for you outside.”

KC gasped when she saw the man’s face. “It’s the clone!”

The president smiled. “Yes, I interviewed him when Dr. Jenks was arrested. My clone is really a nice guy. He never understood what Dr. Jenks was up to. I’ve decided to keep him on my staff.”

“But won’t everyone get confused?” KC asked.

The president winked. “That might be fun,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to have a twin.”

He beckoned to the man standing by the door. “By the way,” he said to KC and Marshall, “we’ve given him a special name.”

The clone walked over. He proudly showed the kids his name tag. It said, MR. CASEY MARSHALL.

“Wow!” KC said. “We have a clone named after us, Marsh!”

Casey Marshall smiled. “I’ll tell them you’ll be out in a minute, sir.” He left and closed the door behind him.

Marshall dug a paper from his pocket. He held it out to the president.

“You said you’d give me your autograph, Mr. President.”

The president took the paper. “You’re right, I did promise.”

He walked to his desk, picked up a pen, and signed “Zachary Thornton.”