The Mirror Man

by Jane Gilmartin

  “It’s time for the Meld,” Scott said, and Parker flashed a look of shocked concern at both men.

  “It’s fine,” Jeremiah told him, and then turned to Scott. “I haven’t told him about this part yet. You came in before I had a chance.”

  “Nothing to worry about, son,” Scott said. “Meld isn’t illegal when it’s used under clinical circumstances. It’s medicine, and I’m afraid it is necessary.”

  “Necessary for what?” the boy asked, agitation in his voice.

  “Parker,” Jeremiah began, “there’s something else I haven’t told you. These men have agreed to help us make a new start. They’re giving us plenty of money, brand-new identities, just like one of those witness protection programs you see in the movies. But before they can do that, I’ve agreed to let them make a clone of you. Your clone will be going back home, staying with my clone. To them, it will seem like nothing’s changed at all. I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry. But this was the only way I could make this work. The only way I could get back to you.”

  Parker stared at Jeremiah for a long moment.

  “They’re going to make a clone of me?” he asked, a conflicted smile spreading across his face. “An actual clone?”

  “Yeah,” Jeremiah told him, still unsure of how his son was taking the revelation. “That’s all this world needs, right? Two Parkers.”

  “And he takes my place, like at school and everything?”

  “That’s right,” Jeremiah said.

  “Why can’t the clones leave? I mean, I don’t know if I want to leave school and all my friends. I don’t want to leave everything. Maybe we could stay and send them somewhere else.”

  “I know it’s hard, Parker,” Jeremiah told him. “I know. But it’s the only way this can work.”

  “But that’s where Mom was, Dad. It’s our house. We can’t just leave.” Parker looked again as though he were trying not to cry. Jeremiah felt instantly guilty for not considering that aspect. He’d been trying to treat it like an adventure, like a game. It wasn’t a game to Parker. Jeremiah was asking him to leave the last place he’d had his mother. It was a heartless thing to do.

  “I’ll have someone go to the house for a few things,” he told his son. “Some photographs, maybe a few personal things for you to hold on to. Any ideas?”

  Parker shrugged and considered it. “Her hairbrush, maybe? Or one of those bracelets she liked?”

  “We’ll get both,” Jeremiah said, looking to Scott for some assurance. Scott nodded, a look of slight irritation flashing over his face.

  “Okay,” Parker said reluctantly. “I guess so.”

  “It’ll be okay, Parker,” Jeremiah told him. “You’ll see.”

  “Well, at least there’s one good thing,” Parker said.

  “What’s that?”

  “At least the clone will have to take my French midterm.”

  Jeremiah smiled. “I suppose he will,” he said, and he stood up to walk with his son to Pike’s lab. He was eager to get a look at his son’s clone, which had been in incubation for forty-eight hours, grown from a few cells from Parker’s cheek at school as part of a bogus health screening.

  Scott stared at him. “You can’t be present for the Meld, Mr. Adams. You know that.”

  “I don’t need to be in the same room,” Jeremiah said, “but I want to go with him.”

  “Even your proximity could threaten the purity of the download,” Scott told him. “We need to be precise about this. It’s the final step.”

  “I don’t feel right about this.”

  “This is the way it must be done,” Scott said. “Besides, you’re needed here. You are to meet with our agent in charge of your new identities. There are matters you need to discuss before the proper documentation can be fabricated. Once that has been completed, you and your son will be free to go directly after the Meld process. We are seeing to the final details as we speak.”

  “That can wait.”

  “No, it cannot wait,” Scott said firmly. “We’ve gone to great lengths to procure this agent from the FBI. He’s taking a considerable risk even being here. Time is of the essence, you understand. You have my word, Mr. Adams. I will return your son to you safely. It shouldn’t take more than an hour. Two at most.”

  A thin, serious-looking man, dressed in a dark-colored suit, entered the room behind Scott. Jeremiah would have pegged him for a federal agent a mile away. He might as well have been holding a sign that read Secret Agent.

  “Is there a problem?” the man said, casting a dire glance at Charles Scott.

  “Not at all,” Scott assured him.

  “Look,” the agent said, this time to Jeremiah, “we do this now or we don’t do it at all. It’s your choice.”

  “I’ll be fine, Dad,” Parker said. “I’m not afraid. And to tell you the truth, I sort of want to get out of here as soon as we can. This whole thing is sort of freaking me out. You take care of that agent dude. I’ll go and do this.”

  Reluctantly, Jeremiah allowed Parker to go with Charles Scott. As he headed out the door, though, Parker stopped suddenly and turned back to Jeremiah.

  “Dad,” he said. “Are we going to get Louie? We can’t just leave him there. We have to take him with us.”

  Jeremiah turned the question back to Charles Scott with an urging glance.

  “Your dog? I don’t think that would be a problem,” Scott said. “I’ll dispatch someone to your home to collect him and the mementos from the boy’s mother. The dog will be waiting for you after the Meld.”

  “I’m Agent Glen Jasper,” the agent said once Scott and Parker had left. “We have a lot to do and not much time to get it done.”

  “Jeremiah Adams,” he said, shaking the man’s hand.

  “Not for long you’re not, sir. I’m here to change that.”

  Jeremiah hadn’t even begun to consider new names. With everything else he’d had to contend with, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. But the enormity of the decision suddenly weighed on him. This was important. Whatever names he chose now would be with them for the rest of their lives, might influence, in a way, everything that came after. Jeremiah sat down slowly and started to think. He wished he’d thought to discuss this with Parker. It would have been nice to ask for his input on something so fundamental as his name. But now there wasn’t time. He had named his son once, he decided, he’d just have to be trusted to do it again.

  “Some people find it helpful,” the agent offered, “to retain something from their original name in the new one. Samuel Johnson, for instance, might become John Samuelson. In my experience, it makes the transition a little easier.”

  Something in that logic appealed to him, and Jeremiah mumbled out loud as he worked out variations in his mind.

  “Adam Jeremiah... Jeremy Adamson... Jeremiah Parker... How about Adam Parker for my son?”

  “Adam Parker,” the agent said, spelling it out as he typed it into a laptop. “And a middle name?”

  Jeremiah hardly had to think before he said it.

  “Brent.”

  “Adam Brent Parker,” the agent repeated as he typed. “And you? What is your first name, Mr. Parker?”

  “Jeremy, I think,” he said. “Yes, I like that. My name is Jeremy Adam Parker.”

  For the next hour, Jeremiah answered an endless procession of questions, which touched on everything from what he had studied in school to whether he’d ever had measles, while the agent took fastidious notes on every answer and barely looked up from his laptop.

  “Now we’ll cross-reference this with your existing records,” the agent said, still typing at lightning speed, “and input photos here, and here.” He handed Jeremiah the laptop and a stylus. “And if you could sign here and again over here,” he said, “with your new name, of course.”

  Jeremiah had to stop and thi
nk before signing his name. After the agent had him sign no fewer than twenty-six more times, however, it almost became easy and the scrawl took on the characteristics of an actual signature.

  “Very good, Mr. Parker,” he said as he stood to leave. “All of your documents will be waiting in your vehicle for you within the hour—one packet for you, another for your son.”

  “What documentation will be included exactly?”

  “Birth certificates, social security cards, passports, a driver’s license for you, school transcripts, the title to your vehicle, immunization records, medical and dental histories, eight years of tax returns, bank account verification and two library cards, one of them expired. We’ll even have a few old utility bills thrown in for good measure. You will also receive two cell phones, complete with a two-year carrier contract under your new name, as well as a detailed biographical history. You will need to read that and become familiar with it. It’s everything you’ll need.”

  “I’d say so.” Jeremiah whistled. “You’re certainly thorough. Don’t we need to change our appearance—dye our hair or something?”

  The agent came very close to smiling.

  “Don’t believe everything you see in the movies, Mr. Parker,” he said. “That is very rarely necessary. You must remember, however, that neither you, nor your son, will be allowed to come within a one-hundred-mile radius of Boston again—ever. One of the documents you’ve just signed agreed to that. I’ll get a full copy into your folder. And the federal government now has an excessive amount of information on you.” He glanced pointedly to the laptop in his hand. “If you try to come back here, we will find you. Aside from that one restriction, you are free to go where you will. Do what you want. But stay out of trouble. And stay under the radar. Don’t get famous or anything.”

  “I understand,” Jeremiah told him, and he shook his hand.

  “It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Parker.”

  Chapter 42

  Parker and Charles Scott were back in the apartment soon after the agent left.

  “You okay?” he asked his son. “How was it?”

  “It was weird,” he said. “Really weird. Dad, you wouldn’t believe it—the thing looks just like me. I mean exact! Like looking in a mirror. Man, I wish I could be there when he shows up for school! He is gonna fool everyone!”

  “Believe me, I know how you feel. And the Meld? How did that go?”

  “I guess it went fine,” Parker said. “I didn’t really feel anything. It was sort of like being hypnotized or something, I guess. I don’t feel any different. I don’t really remember it. I guess it isn’t as bad as everybody keeps saying.”

  “The jury is still out on that,” he said.

  Jeremiah asked Charles Scott if he should start packing and realized only then that he had neglected to take any of Parker’s clothes with him.

  “It isn’t necessary, Mr. Adams...or Mr. Parker, is it now?” Scott told him. “You’ll find everything you need is already in your car—enough clothes to get you started, some cash, all the basics. You can get anything else on the road. We took the liberty of securing a Mercedes for you. Well-equipped, top of the line. I drive one myself. I’m sure it will be to your liking. If you’ll just follow me. We can take care of our final transaction outside.”

  “One second.” Jeremiah darted into the kitchen and grabbed the package from the back of the freezer and took it out of the ice cream container. He put a hand on Parker’s shoulder and ushered him out behind Charles Scott.

  “And Louie?” he asked. “Did you get the dog?”

  “The dog is waiting for you.”

  Almost the instant they were out the front door, before they were even halfway across the circular drive where the chocolate-brown Mercedes was waiting, Louie had bolted away from the man who held his leash and nearly knocked Jeremiah over with a wild greeting. With two paws up on his chest, he whined and whimpered as though he were literally trying to speak. Jeremiah laughed and tried to turn his face away from the dog’s exuberant kisses and attempted to calm him down. Louie was literally shaking with joy at the sight of him. Jeremiah felt almost as happy. He’d almost forgotten how much he’d missed this dog. He was glad Louie was coming with them. He knelt down and allowed himself to be kissed, and talked in soft, low tones until the dog stopped whining.

  “It’s okay, boy,” he said. “I know. I know. I missed you, too. It’s okay.”

  Parker got into the front seat of the car and Louie stayed at Jeremiah’s side as he looked to Charles Scott for what he sincerely hoped would be the last time. Scott was staring down at the dog with some confusion.

  “It would appear that someone has forgotten to give that dog its medication. He seems overly exuberant considering, in his mind, he saw you leave for work just a few hours ago.”

  Jeremiah smiled slowly. Part of him wanted to tell Scott that Louie had known all along, that the clone hadn’t fooled him for one minute. He wanted to see Scott’s face when he realized that maybe his precious experiment wasn’t airtight, after all, that there were some things even science couldn’t account for. It would have felt like one final triumph—a twist of the knife before he left. But he resisted the urge. It wasn’t worth the risk. He’d have to be satisfied, he decided, with the victory he’d already won.

  “I don’t know,” he told Scott, “after your people took him out of the house, he’s probably just happy to see us again. Poor thing is just confused.”

  Scott pursed his lips and scrutinized the animal for a long moment. “A loyal companion,” he said at last.

  “You have no idea.” Jeremiah absently tightened his grip on Louie’s collar. “So how do we do this?”

  Scott took a phone from his pocket and tapped a quick series of buttons.

  “You’ll notice an icon for a bank account on the home screen of this phone, Mr. Adams.” Jeremiah took the cell phone from him as he continued. “The initial password has been set as ‘replica 321.’ You will see the transaction has already been made to the account in the amount agreed upon. Once you’re satisfied, you can change the password and relinquish the package.”

  Jeremiah opened the file and nodded when he saw the account balance was just slightly in excess of $10 million.

  He handed over the package. Louie leaned in hard against his knee as Jeremiah changed his bank password to Brent’s cell number.

  Scott tore the paper away from the package, letting the wrapping fall at his feet, and unzipped the top of the lunch box to view the contents. He looked away with a sickened but satisfied expression and nodded once. He then extended a hand to Jeremiah.

  “I must say, Mr. Adams,” he said. “You surprise me. I never would have thought you capable of this sort of willful deceit when we first met. If I had, I think I might have selected another test subject.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess you never really know a person as well as you think, do you?”

  “I have a feeling you may be right about that, Mr. Adams. You may be right.”

  Jeremiah opened the back door of the car and Louie jumped in and settled himself down on the leather seat, still panting with excitement. Jeremiah took his place behind the wheel, looked once at Parker and drove away from the ViMed lab for the last time.

  He had no real idea where they were headed. But it didn’t matter. He’d just keep driving until they decided to stop somewhere. As he turned onto the expressway, heading away from the city, away from everything, he felt an intense excitement rise up in him—a feeling he’d almost forgotten he was capable of. Everything ahead of him seemed so full of potential, vivid with possibility. The fact that it was unknown, untested, only made it that much sweeter. He had Parker. He had a second chance. A single finger seemed suddenly a small price to pay. No matter which direction they chose to go, a new beginning would be waiting like a blank page ready to be filled, and Jeremiah was holding the pen. It was e
xhilarating, so much so that he actually laughed out loud.

  “I’ve always wanted to see the Grand Canyon,” he said to his son. “Maybe we should head west.”

  “Sounds awesome,” Parker said, “and maybe rafting on the Colorado River.”

  “Why not? This is going to be a good life. We’re going to do it right. I promise. But you do realize, I hope, that once we get settled somewhere, you’re going to have to go back to school, right? You’re going to have to graduate.”

  Parker didn’t answer him. His head was turned toward the back seat of the car.

  “What the hell is up with Louie?” he asked.

  Jeremiah looked up in the rearview mirror. What he saw made his heart stop. The dog was baring his teeth, growling almost inaudibly, his ears pulled slightly back against his head.

  The dog was looking directly at Parker.

  Chapter 43

  He’d told Parker they needed to stop at home to pick up Louie’s things. That the people from ViMed hadn’t known what to get.

  “His bed, an extra leash. It’ll only take a few minutes,” he said, “and then we’ll hit the road.” He had to work to keep the tremor from his voice.

  Why the hell had he let Parker go off alone with Scott for that cloning? What the hell had they done with his son?

  His mind raced as he tried to get hold of the situation. They’d switched them and left him with Parker’s clone. And they’d used the Meld to pump every single memory—everything Jeremiah and Parker had been through over the last several hours, the cloning, the conversation about Diana, and all of it—into the mind of this thing.

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to go back here. I mean, what if your clone is there? Or mine? That’ll be a bit awkward.”

  “I think we’ll be okay,” Jeremiah said. “But just in case, I’ll park down the street a bit and you stay in the car. Head down.” He tried to smile. “Sort of like spy stuff.”

  Parker’s clone shrugged.

  Natalie should have been here by now, but he didn’t see her car anywhere. When he’d pulled off the road and thought for a few frantic minutes about who to call for help, he’d quickly realized that she was the only one he could trust now, the only one who could possibly put this right. And she owed him. He wasn’t leaving without his son.