Replication

by Kevin Hardman

  He was currently standing next to what had been the top of the solar panel array. In one hand, he held a length of metal piping that he’d presumably taken from the solar panel racking. Keeping the far end of it low to the ground, Jack swung the pipe side to side like a white cane for the blind as he slowly walked forward. As it oscillated back and forth, the pipe would regularly strike the top of the solar equipment, thereby making the metallic banging I’d heard.

  “Hey, Jim,” Jack called out without warning. “You okay, fella? You need some help?”

  I ignored his taunting and instead focused on getting out from under the solar panels. With a little effort, I was confident that I could lift the racking enough to shimmy out, but it would take a little time, and certainly make noise. Needless to say, noise of any type was bound to bring Jack on the double, and I wasn’t sure I could get away before he reached me. (And I had no illusions about what would happen if my evil twin got his hands on me again. Forget “game on.” It would be “game over.”)

  “Come on, Jim,” Jack went on as he continued to walk forward. “This is getting old. You can only evade me for so long.”

  I kept silent, but he was more right than he realized. He was walking a path that ran right next to what had been the top of the solar array, and I was pinned at the top of that same structure. In short, if he kept walking, he was going to run right into me.

  “Say something, Jim,” Jack said, continuing to step in my direction. “My nose tells me you were close by when I brought these solar panels down. If you’re hurt, there’s no need to suffer. I can put you out of your misery. Even if you’re not, staying quiet isn’t going to throw me off your trail – you’re upwind of me.”

  I wanted to scream in frustration. The wind was blowing from me to him, taking my scent (for lack of a better term) to him, which meant he was probably locked in on me. Not for the first time, I wished I’d brought a weapon with me – a submachine gun or something along those lines, regardless of whether or not Jack could be hurt by it.

  Fighting a growing sense of desperation, I looked around but didn’t see anything nearby except shards from broken solar panels. Casting my gaze farther, I didn’t see anything in close proximity that could help – and then my eyes lit upon something potentially useful.

  Not far from where I lay was one of the AC units Jack had knocked free earlier. It was leaking water that had pooled in a small recessed area near the top edge of the fallen solar panels. In addition, a shorn piece of electrical cable with exposed wiring extended from said panels to the water. If Jack kept walking along his current path, he’d step right into that electrified pool.

  In short, Jack’s own actions had created a potential weapon that could be used against him.

  Once Jack stepped in the water, the ensuing electrical shock would hopefully – at the least – disorient him, as Electra had done in the teen lounge. At that point, I’d have to act fast. I needed to squirm free, locate the syringe, and then find a way to inject him without getting shocked myself (assuming he hadn’t recovered by then). Taken altogether, it was a heady project to attempt without my powers.

  With the thought of my abilities, my mind turned to Mouse. My mentor had said he’d try to fix the nullifier, and I was tempted to reach out to him telepathically, but decided against it. Communication with me would only distract him.

  The sound of metal banging on metal – Jack’s makeshift white cane striking the solar panel array – brought me out of my reverie. And then my eyes widened as a new thought occurred to me.

  What if Jack banged the metal pipe against the solar panel just as he stepped in the water? What if, while still in the water, he collapsed against the solar panels? I was currently pinned down by that self-same structure, and not too far from where the electrified water had pooled. I suddenly realized that there was a very real possibility I could get electrocuted.

  Now gravely concerned, I started to feel an overwhelming need to get out of my current predicament, but how? Jack was closer now than he’d been a few minutes earlier. If I didn’t think I could wriggle free before he reached me then, the odds were much less favorable now.

  With nothing to lose, I started cycling through my powers again, hoping something useful would work this time. For instance, if I could phase, any potential electric shock wouldn’t harm me. Unfortunately, phasing didn’t work. Neither did telekinesis. I then reached for teleportation again and – surprisingly – felt something there. However, it seemed a bit…off, in a way I didn’t understand, but I was so overjoyed at having a life-saving power back that I just chalked up any odd sensations to the blow I’d taken to the head.

  Feeling better than I had since starting this mission, I prepared to teleport out from under the solar panel, and then stopped.

  Thanks to his super-sniffer, Jack was locked in on me. If I teleported, my scent would immediately go with me. More to the point, Jack probably wouldn’t keep going – that is, step into the electrified water – if he didn’t still think he was headed to me. On my part, I felt like I needed the advantage I’d gain by him getting shocked.

  In short, I had a bit of a dilemma: I needed to stay in place in order for Jack to become vulnerable, but I needed to get away to avoid any risk of electrocution. It wasn’t possible to do both, unless I found a way to lay down a false trail of blood, sweat, and tears (and whatever else he could smell on my skin) for Jack to follow. And with that, I got an idea, based on something Mouse had said.

  According to my mentor, the outer layer of my skin – the stratum corneum – was comprised of dead cells. We had only mentioned it in passing, but it seemed possible to separate that portion of my epidermis from the rest of me. With that in mind, I closed my eyes and concentrated.

  Typically when I teleported, I moved entire objects from one place to another, whether it be myself or something else. So if I teleported, say, a bottle of juice, I would do so with its contents inside; if it were a pencil, the lead inside would go with it. What I was attempting to do now was markedly different, like trying to teleport a car without the paint job.

  If I’d had my powers – particularly, the ability to “see” and control my physiological systems – it might have been easier. In that scenario, I would have just looked internally and wrapped the part of me that was “living,” so to speak, in my power and teleported it. (Even then, however, there would have been exceptions, such as hair, nails, and so on.) Without my full slate of powers, it was infinitely harder, but after a few moments, I felt I’d done my best. Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and teleported.

  Chapter 92

  My first thought was that it worked. I was no longer pinned under the solar panels. I was, instead, near the center of the roof, close to where I’d lost the syringe.

  No – wait, I thought. It appeared that I was still pinned down. I was still lying on my back in the same position I was before. But at the same time, I wasn’t.

  Something was very, very wrong. No, not wrong, I quickly decided. Just different. A moment later, I knew what it was: there were two of me!

  One of me, as noted, was up and about (and dressed only in a pair of boxer briefs), while the other – wearing the rest of my clothes – was still under the collapsed solar panel equipment.

  I had intended to teleport the “living” me under the stratum corneum to another part of the roof (along with my underwear so that I wouldn’t be naked). That should have left something like a husk of me under the solar panels. Still draped in my clothes (and bearing my scent), it should have been enough to fool Jack. Rather than that, however, some new power had manifested, and it appeared that I had truly replicated myself.

  I spent a moment looking around, marveling at what it was like to take in the world from two different vantage points. It should have felt bizarre, but it didn’t. Instead, it felt…natural.

  A metallic bang brought me – both iterations – back to myself. Wasting no more time, the second me (the one that was free) began looki
ng for the syringe. Remembering the direction it had gone in, I headed there, scouring the area.

  Meanwhile, the first me (the one pinned on the rooftop) looked in the direction of the banging sound and saw that Jack had reached the pool of electrified water. At this point, however, he halted and sniffed the air. Frowning, he squatted down on his haunches and sniffed again. He then reached out a hand in front of him, where it hovered teasingly just above the surface of the water.

  Come on, I said to myself. Just another step…

  Unfortunately, Jack wasn’t cooperating. Maybe there was the scent of ozone in the air, maybe he could detect an electric current in the water, or maybe some other ability was being employed. Regardless, he obviously could sense that something was wrong.

  At that juncture, the Jim-2 version of me found the syringe lying near a vent and picked it up. It was visible now, and had probably been so since the brief moment when I’d gotten knocked out earlier. I then began hustling back towards the fallen solar panels.

  As Jim-2, I apparently made some noise, because Jack suddenly jerked his head in my direction and stood up. As Jim-1, I saw his reaction, which prompted me to make a command decision.

  “Hey, Jack,” I shouted as Jim-1, drawing his attention to me. “Why do you think your handlers were so focused on getting you to develop the same powers I had? It’s because a knockoff has to imitate the original if it’s going to fool anybody, if it’s ever going to be worth anything. But you know what? People in the know – people with refinement and discerning taste – will always be able to tell the difference. So if you take a designer bag and a knockoff, and then destroy the former, the bag you’re left with is still a knockoff. That’s you, Jack. A knockoff. And it’s all you’ll ever be.”

  I had watched Jack’s face as I spoke, and it had gone from surprise at hearing my voice to anger to unmitigated rage. After I finished my little speech, I expected him to suddenly charge through the water (and hopefully get shocked), but again he worked overtime to spoil my plans. Instead of rushing towards me, he jumped, clearing the electrified pool in a single bound and coming down almost on my head, making me grunt in surprise. That sound was apparently all he needed to pinpoint my position, as he reached down and – getting a grip on my shirt – yanked me free, heedless of the damage it inflicted on me. (For the record, it felt like my back got scraped with sandpaper, and my hip and a knee got hyperextended, among other things.)

  Jack then proceeded to shake me wildly for a second, like a pair of maracas making the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He then flung me down with enough force that I cracked my head and saw stars. Lying on my back, I couldn’t immediately tell if anything was broken, but – with almost everything aching from my head to my toes – it wouldn’t have surprised me if something was.

  “You should have worked with me, Jim,” Jack said as he placed a foot firmly on my chest. “We could have made the world a better place. Now I’ll have to do it alone. Funny thing, though: working solo is turning out not to be as hard as I thought.”

  I placed both hands on his foot and tried to shove it off. It didn’t budge. With his strength, he probably didn’t even notice that I was making an effort. Moreover, his foot had me pinned down as effectively as the solar panels had.

  An odd noise off to the side drew his attention, causing Jack to jerk his head in that direction just as Jim-2 leaped at him, with the syringe poised to inject the neural blocker.

  *****

  It wasn’t the most original plan. While Jack was busy manhandling the Jim-1 version of me, as Jim-2 I had rushed forward with the intention of catching him unawares. It worked to some extent, as I was almost on him by the time he heard my approach, and had already sprang at him when his head snapped in my direction.

  Unfortunately, that was about as much success as I could claim in this instance. With cat-like reflexes, Jack reached out while I was still in the air and caught me around the neck with one hand, while his other hand closed over the fist in which I held the syringe.

  He sniffed the air and then muttered, “Well, I’ll be damned! Two of you!” He shook his head in disbelief. “I mean, I saw it in my future, but it seemed improbable, and clairvoyance can be hard to rely on.”

  My eyes went wide. Jack had plainly foreseen my attempt to inject him as Jim-2. It explained a lot, including how – without eyes – he’d caught me in mid-air. But from what I understood of his powers, it shouldn’t have been possible.

  “How…multiple…threats…?” I croaked as Jim-2, barely able to get the words out with my throat in Jack’s vise-like grip.

  “Oh, so you know something about my precognition,” Jack said with a laugh, clearly understanding my confusion. “Well, you’ll be pleased to know that I still only see one threat at a time. However, I get images of the future more often now. This scene we’re playing out now only came to me since we’ve been on the roof.”

  I felt despondent. We had severely underestimated Jack, and it looked like the price for doing so was going to be pretty steep (not to mention paid in blood).

  “Anyway,” Jack continued, “what’s this you’ve been playing keep-away with?” He shook my fist – the one he held in his own grip – blatantly indicating the syringe.

  “Vitamin…supplement,” I managed to mutter.

  “Really?” Jack chuckled. “In that case, let’s make sure you get the recommended daily allowance.”

  With that, he began slowly moving the syringe towards my neck.

  “NO!!!” I roared as both Jim-1 and Jim-2. Immediately thereafter, both versions of me began desperately trying to get away. As Jim-1, I squirmed violently under Jack’s foot like a worm on a fishing hook, pounding fiercely on his leg at the same time. As Jim-2, I beat furiously on the arm that held me in the air with my free hand, while also bucking wildly in an effort to break his grip.

  None of it worked. Jack was simply too strong, and he smiled with malignant glee as he continued guiding the syringe towards the Jim-2 version of me. Because of the angle at which he gripped my fist, it appeared that it was easiest for him to inject me behind the ear. Of course, he could have just taken the syringe from me (or broken my arm) in order to inject me in a preferred spot, but that obviously wouldn’t be as much fun as making me do it myself.

  My mind raced as I tried to think of what to do in the few seconds remaining before I was injected. Jack’s grip around my fist made dropping the syringe impossible. There was a little wiggle room around the plunger which allowed me to take my thumb off it, but once the needle was inserted, Jack could press it himself. Still, wanting to delay the inevitable as long as possible, I moved my thumb off it anyway – just to make sure I didn’t accidentally squirt any of the fluid out…

  I blinked as understanding suddenly dawned on me. Throwing my thumb back on the plunger, I pressed down as hard as I could. The syringe’s contents squirted out in a powerful jet, striking my ear and the side of my face, and then running down to my neck. And onto Jack’s hand, which was still locked around my throat.

  Without eyes, Jack couldn’t see what I’d done, but he undoubtedly felt the neural blocker running over his hands. Plainly surprised, he stopped his efforts at trying to inject me with the syringe. Then he must have had some sort of revelation, because he simultaneously let go of my fist and throat like he’d just touched a red-hot poker.

  The Jim-2 version of me dropped to the rooftop, but I managed to stay on my feet. As Jim-1, I put one hand on the heel of the foot Jack had on my chest and the other on its toe, and then I twisted. My action had the combined effect of getting his foot off me as well as throwing him off-balance, and he went sprawling.

  As Jim-2, I let the syringe fall from my aching fingers before wiping its dripping contents from my face, then reached out my other hand to help my Jim-1 self to my feet. Nothing seemed to be permanently broken in either body, so I turned the attention of both Jims to my evil twin.

  Jack had gone down on his stomach, and he lay there for
a moment, making harsh breathing noises, as if he couldn’t catch his breath. Slowly, he rolled over and sat up. As I suspected, his eyes were back. I interpreted that as meaning his powers were gone. It begged the question of why my own powers were still present (as evidenced by the fact that I was still two Jims), but I filed it away for later.

  Jack looked at me with an odd expression that seemed to combine deep-rooted melancholy with profound loss and sadness. As both Jims, I took a step towards him and he recoiled slightly, at which point I realized that I was still sporting Gray’s countenance – on both Jims, no less.

  Switching both faces back to my own, I spoke as Jim-1, saying, “It’s over, Jack. You’re done.”

  “No,” he insisted firmly as he got to his feet.

  “Your powers are gone,” I stressed. “It’s time to face up to what you’ve done.”

  “You mean go back into stasis,” he muttered, taking a step back. “Probably forever.”

  “You don’t know that,” I countered.

  “It’s you who doesn’t know,” he shot back. “They’ll stick me back in a box, only this time it’ll be for good. Powers or not, I can’t go back to that. I won’t. I’d rather die.”

  I should have seen it coming, should have known what he was about to do. Should have realized what he was capable of.

  Without another word, Jack turned and raced towards the nearest edge of the roof. Being slow on the uptake, it was another second or two before I realized what he had in mind, and I took off after him.

  I wasn’t going to catch him; we were too evenly matched and he had a head start. Nevertheless, I shouted to him as we ran, begged him not to, yelled that he’d be treated fairly.

  My words fell on deaf ears. Jack reach the edge of the roof and calmly stepped over the side without a word and without looking back.