The Tomorrow Clone (The Tomorrow Gene Book 3)

by Sean Platt

  “As I said,” Mercer said, unimpressed, “you’ve got it handled.”

  “But this clone,” Neven insisted, “is even more precarious than the Wood clone. Do you know why?”

  “Because he’s gay?”

  Neven sighed.

  “Because he’s in place. So, okay. I don’t exactly think it’s a laugh riot when you try and issue not-very-subliminal commands to the Hershel clone, trying to get it to drop its pants or whatever. But at least that kind of thing doesn’t do any damage because he’s here, at the Domain. But this one?”

  He pointed at the readouts for the clone he’d been whispering into when Mercer had popped up behind him.

  “If I’d been live when you shouted just now, one of two things might have happened. First, if he’d simply obeyed the command and dropped trou right now, in New York, given what he’s currently doing, that might raise suspicions with the people who saw it, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe they’d think he was the life of the party,” Mercer said, finally seeming to realize his error.

  “But what’s more likely, was that since you just shouted it out, he wouldn’t accept your ‘hilarious’ command as subliminal at all. Hearing someone suddenly shout ‘Now drop your pants’ in his ear, he’d either decide his MyLife had been compromised or that he was going insane. Neither helps.”

  Neven waited for Mercer to understand.

  “The Ephraim clone did okay thinking he was crazy,” he finally said.

  “Yes, but that was the idea. From the start, we wanted to break Ephraim. We needed to see how his mind would adapt when everything failed. We needed a real-world stress test if we’re to roll out the DataCrate solution. And Ephraim was Ephraim. I can’t keep an eye on him now that GEM removed his implant, but from what I can gather from others, he seems to be adapting. Another sign that clone brains are more flexible and involved than natural ones. They’re better, just like my father always told me.”

  “And you don’t want to test that one’s brain?”

  Neven looked back at the screen. The clone’s profile pic was in the upper left, taken back when he was fresh from a tube on Eden, before they’d put both him and Ephraim into play. It was almost creepy, that bright white hair against such tan skin.

  “Kilik has a singular purpose, extremely well defined. Any mental deviation — at all — will make him unstable. And if I can’t count on Kilik, how exactly are we supposed to replace the real Hershel Wood?”

  Mercer looked back blankly.

  “And then how,” Neven continued, “am I supposed to get your final payment?”

  That did it. Mercer blinked. “Oh.”

  “So maybe, when I’m up here working, you shouldn’t try to be funny.”

  “If it’s that sensitive, maybe you should work in the lab with the door locked.”

  “I’m tired of being cooped up here. I need some fresh air every once in a while. You get to travel. I don’t.”

  Mercer rolled his eyes but didn’t retreat. That was as close to an apology as Neven was going to get.

  “How are things on Eden?” Neven asked.

  “Tight,” Mercer answered, seemingly grateful for the change in subject. “It’s like the border patrol is on double-secret border patrol. I’m not just bribing them to get past them; I’m bribing them to get past them without them ratting me out to Mauritius or GEM.”

  “GEM is on Eden?”

  “No.” Mercer shook his head. “But they keep asking. Jonathan said they’re real assholes about it. And it’s a dance, because if he has nothing to hide, then Jonathan should want to cooperate with GEM, not work against them. He has to look like he’s showing them stuff, without giving them anything. You’re not worried he’ll choose the wrong shit to share?”

  “He can show them all he wants. If GEM has any brains, they’ll realize they can practically make adult humans on a production line. My father wasn’t shy. And if they’re talking to Fiona, especially if she’s as pissed as I’d be in her shoes, then she probably showed them some of her tech. They’ll put it together.”

  “But if they see the celebrity lines …”

  “It doesn’t matter, Mercer. There’s a reason I had the Domain built privately. There’s a reason I never told Jonathan. He wants Eden? He thinks my father should have willed it to him instead of me? Fine. Let him have it. He’ll hide the celebrity lines for as long as he can, but even if he tells them or they storm in and see for themselves, it hardly matters. Jonathan doesn’t know the truth about DataCrate. He doesn’t know the most important, fully realized parts of my father’s vision.”

  “This was Wallace’s vision?”

  “It would have been,” Neven said, “if he’d lived. Is the island operating?”

  “Minimally,” Mercer said. “They’re down to one production lab, and the authorities on Eden watch Jonathan so closely that it’s almost impossible for him to even check in on it. They sent me back with two Evangelines and a Lilian Fey. That’s it. And most of the profit is being eaten up by bribes in both directions.”

  “Did you sell them?”

  “You told me not to. You said you wanted me here, not making myself a target on the mainland.”

  “So you incinerated them?”

  “Yeah. They were blanks. You can give me whatever to take back to Jonathan. Honestly, at this point, he probably just wants to smuggle his stock away before GEM finds it. Easy enough to get a few more betas and put them with the others.”

  Neven nodded to himself. He set the tablet down and stood. Then he stretched, turning slowly, taking his time, seeing the Domain for its artistry rather than its pragmatism. The mosaic of stacked boxes was a sight to behold. Like a beehive or a spider web, the fact that it was practical didn’t make it any less beautiful. Too bad no one else could see it. With the satellite companies bribed and an army of trees ringing the shore, this little island off the coast could pass as nothing forever.

  “What about your new case, there? Still fits?”

  Neven looked down at himself. A trifle insulting for Mercer to keep referring to this new body like a shoe, but the comparison wasn’t far off. It was genetically identical to his old body, and his mind had, as far as he’d been able to tell, transferred faithfully. Thanks to the Quarry technology, the next time he “died,” things would go even more smoothly. But he’d been used to the character of his first body. The scars earned through experience were genetically impossible to duplicate.

  “It’s fine.”

  “It’s funny,” Mercer said. “You called the Tomorrow Gene ‘The one thing that changes everything’ even when it was bullshit. But this?” He nodded down at Neven — at the body born, in a way, from the Gene’s technology. “This does change everything.”

  It was an uncomfortable topic. Neven had always been a clone of his father, but he’d been raised like any baby, child, and eventually adult. He’d been a real person, but was now inarguably something different. It was hard not to take Mercer’s observation as a knock.

  “Did you see Ephraim when you were on Eden?”

  “Yeah. He grew a beard.”

  “Why?”

  “In case Mauritius or anyone else sees him. I guess he thinks the beard is enough to make him look like someone else. He’s all nervous that they’ll figure it out. It’s funny. I told him that he should come out now. Shave the beard and be like, ‘Here I am, bitches!’ Because, what? Is Mauritius going to extradite him back to the states?”

  Neven’s expression fell. He could feel a strange new sensation, born from something unseen in Mercer’s words. Extraditing?

  “What?” Mercer asked, his smile vanishing.

  “You said now.’ Ephraim should ‘come out now.’”

  “Right. Because if he came out while Ephraim was in prison …” He paused. “Fuck. You didn’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “I figured you planned it.”

  Something was unraveling, and Neven didn’t even know what it was
. “Planned what?”

  “I figured you were messing with the clone’s head again.”

  “I can’t mess with his head. They took out his MyLife! What happened, Mercer? What?”

  “They … he got out somehow,” Mercer stammered.

  “Got out?”

  “Yeah. He’s not in Queensboro anymore.” Mercer looked flustered, uneasy enough to stumble. “How can you not know this? It’s all over the news. I just assumed that—”

  “Did he escape?”

  “I don’t know. The news wasn’t clear about—”

  “You have to find out where he is! Dammit, Mercer! I told you to let me know the second anything changed!”

  “I was on Eden! What the hell do you want from me? Maybe turn on a fucking TV every once in a while, instead of sitting up here jacking off into your fucking subliminal …”

  Neven was pacing.

  The clone was supposed to be contained, imprisoned for murder; it’d pin two loose ends at once. But now the real Ephraim could move about with some impunity — and the clone? Who had him?

  Had he escaped on his own, preparing to stir trouble right when the DataCrate solution was nearing its critical moment?

  Was it Fiona? Or Hershel Wood finally desperate enough to hear new evidence at the most inopportune time?

  “Look, I didn’t know you didn’t know. Okay? No clue this was that big of a fucking deal, or I’d’ve … what?”

  He stopped when Neven pointed a finger, its tip shaking.

  “We’ve got a real problem, Mercer. Do you hear me? Is this getting through your idiot skull?”

  “Hey, there’s no need to—”

  “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

  Mercer’s hands went up. “Yes, yeah, okay. I understand!”

  “I wasn’t kidding about Ephraim’s changes. I have no idea what he might do, where he’ll go, who he’ll talk to, or what he’ll say. I can’t see him or track his movements. He could be anywhere. If he goes to Fiona, that’s bad. If he goes back to Eden, that’s bad. Maybe he even knows I’m alive.”

  “How could he possibly—”

  “That’s the problem, Mercer. I don’t know! At least we could count on his paranoia before. At least there was the conditioning. Now he might be able to convince someone of the wrong things — enough to screw with the plan. He just so happens to share DNA with one of Eden’s bosses, except that the clone has enough in his head to do something. What if he talks to Wood? What if Fiona has another Quarry, and she hooks it up to his head and …”

  Neven trailed off. The unknowns that he couldn’t think of were worse than the disasters he could.

  “Okay, okay,” Mercer said. “Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it. You want me to fly to New York or something?”

  Neven’s thoughts crystalized, drifted together into a plan. He eyed his tablet and said, “No. I think we have to proceed ahead of schedule.”

  “When?”

  “Now.”

  Mercer seemed unsure, but he wasn’t about to contradict Neven in this mood. “What can I do?”

  “Nothing. I know what to do. Just keep up your rounds in the cubes, and stay out of the way.”

  Mercer nodded. “What are you going to do?”

  Neven made an intense effort to shove the fear and anger away.

  He settled himself in his chair, looking out through the gap in the trees, fixed on the horizon.

  He picked up his tablet, opened the Mission Control app, and tapped at its readouts. “I’m going to put Kilik into motion.”

  Chapter 11

  The Same Thing

  Hershel was fixed to his tablet, scouring digital records sent over by the NYPD, FBI, and other acronym-heavy agencies. His attention drifted between the screen and his desktop. One screen was filled with notes and the other with research. And, wherever possible, next steps.

  Hershel looked when he heard a noise at his office doorway.

  “Anything?”

  Agent Martinez, short, stoic, and far less bothered by this Eden business than Hershel, shook his head.

  “Nothing.”

  “For a party that’s supposed to be cooperating, they’re not very cooperative.”

  “In Todd’s shoes,” Martinez said, leaning against the doorframe, “I’d do the same thing. He should respond to direct questions from legit agencies that he’s required to answer. He should do what he’s told like a good boy. Volunteering more information than that will only get him in trouble.”

  “We’re part of this investigation. If Jonathan Todd is on the level, he should talk to us.”

  “I don’t mean to contradict you, boss, but GEM isn’t technically part of the investigation. At least not yet.”

  Hershel opened his mouth, considering a rebuttal. He wanted to give one; Martinez had been only half-in on the entire affair from the start, arguing that GEM had better things to do than play cop in what had thus far been a non-scientific matter.

  But then he closed his mouth because Martinez was right. Technically, Eden wasn’t even under investigation. That’s probably why the Mauritius Border Patrol hadn’t arrested him at all. They’d invited Ephraim on a boat, drove him toward a US ship, and dropped him off so that the Americans could do whatever they wanted. Everything, from his arrest to Eden’s not-quite-an-investigation, was very wink-wink. As it would stay — unofficially official — until someone flinched and the metaphorical claws came out.

  Right now, things were more or less working for everyone. Eden hadn’t shouted injustice yet because if they did, things would become a lot more technical, and a whole lot worse for them.

  “Todd won’t talk to me, but he’ll talk to Ava Bloom?”

  “Wallace was always a master of manipulating public opinion. Todd would have to be phenomenally hatable to undo the damage done by Eden’s commercials. Goodwill is in his favor with Ava. He can’t screw it up.”

  Hershel cocked his head at the agent. He’d used the past tense. “Wallace was? Does that mean you believe he’s dead?”

  “Officially, I’m undecided. Unofficially, my gut says yes, and that Ephraim Todd was telling the truth.”

  “Ephraim Todd also said at his arraignment that the Agaléga police arrested two Ephraim Todds.”

  “That’s right,” Martinez said. “Him and a clone.”

  “Actually, the one that just went missing from Queensboro is the clone.”

  Martinez laughed. “Oh, that’s right.”

  Wood sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Just keep calling, trying to get Jonathan Todd on the line. Can you leave messages?”

  Martinez nodded.

  “Then maybe next time you get voicemail, say you’d be happy to talk to Wallace Connolly if Jonathan Todd can’t be bothered to call back.”

  Martinez sighed, but kept his manner mostly respectful. He didn’t believe in any of this but could usually be counted on to follow orders. “All right.”

  The two GEM agents waited through an impasse.

  “Ava Bloom, then,” Hershel finally said. “She has Eden’s ear.”

  “Ava is neutral. A regular Girl Scout.”

  “There are no sides here. Tell her that I just want to get to the bottom of things. Uncover the truth.”

  “I have told her that. She says that she is, too. She also said for me to tell you that if she figures anything out, she’ll let you know.”

  Hershel’s lip curled. Bitch.

  “You’ve looked through the evidence, Martinez.”

  Martinez nodded again. “What we’re allowed to see, yes.”

  “What do you think?”

  “About what?”

  “All of it. Wallace being dead; Eden making and selling sex slaves. Ephraim Todd being a clone while the original is still on Eden, hiding from or being hidden by dirty cops occupying the island; I don’t fucking know.”

  “Dunno, boss. I’m not sure what to think.”

  Hershel shook his head. This was all so infuriating, and Martinez
didn’t care. “Fiona Roberson is in this somehow, but now she’s gone quiet, too. Given that she’s always playing an angle and looking for favors from people she’s contributed to in the past, her silence now means something for sure. I don’t know if that thing Ephraim Todd used on me — the Quarry? If that was a working device or not. But considering the fight Fiona put up to try and get it back, I’m guessing yes. What do you know about Fiona, Wallace Connolly, and the feud between them?”

  “No more than you, Hershel. You know them both a lot better than me.”

  Hershel tapped his pen on the desk.

  “What do you think?” Martinez asked when his boss refused to let it go.

  “Gun to head? I don’t believe any of them. I don’t believe Fiona’s interest in all of this is over. Ephraim had her technology, but he hadn’t stolen it. She gave it to him for a reason. While Ephraim and I were working against Fiona and Eden, Ephraim and Fiona were working against Eden and me. Ephraim, I think, was always working for himself.”

  “Only for himself? You don’t believe this conspiracy business?”

  Hershel shrugged.

  “So why did you say it at the press conference?”

  “I raised suspicions. Goddamn social media. My grandfather could work in peace. He didn’t have every word he said as a cop scrutinized by the entire world. He didn’t have millions of armchair detectives sniffing up his ass. I’m just opening possibilities. I don’t want to say one thing, then end up eating shit in the media because someone thinks I meant something else.”

  “But Ephraim escaped from prison. He must have had help. Neven Connolly is dead, and Wallace is MIA. Conveniently, Ephraim’s brother is now interim CEO of Evermore — a position that, if you believe what Bloom is saying, Jonathan thought should have been his all along, but that Neven inherited out of nepotism. Isn’t it convenient that just as it all starts coming to light, Ephraim miraculously vanishes from custody without so much as a paper trail? How many people would need to be in on it for that to happen? There are cameras, records, personal effects, guards he’d have passed on the way out,” Martinez sighed. It was so complex. “That takes deep pockets, boss. Eden must be working with him like you suggested to the press.”