Echo- First Pulse

by C Scott Frank

  She tapped a few keys, and the display changed to show the familiar gray-scale line pattern associated with cytogenetic bands. She turned to face Kubitz, eyes wide. Kubitz measured her expression for a moment and then studied the results. Once he realized what he was looking at, he leaned in to make sure he wasn’t missing something.

  “This can’t be right,” he said.

  “It is. There are four positive results.”

  “There must be some contaminant. Check it again.” He stood and stepped away from the desk.

  “I did. Twice. This is it, doctor. One of us is a clone.”

  Kubitz rubbed his face with his hand. “And you didn’t see who? Not even to check for yourself?”

  “I’m not a clone. So I thought you should be the one to see the results. And I wanted to see how you reacted to the news.”

  Kubitz let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Maybe it’s not the Code. Maybe we’ve stumbled upon a remarkable coincidence.”

  “Not likely. What’re the odds that we’ve discovered a brand new genetic mutation present in all clones and we just happen to have a natural-born who has this new mutation as well?” Avani shook her head. “Occam’s razor. This is the Code and we need to be ready to face this reality.”

  “Well,” Kubitz said as he settled back into his chair. “I guess now or never. Should we do this together, for accountability?”

  “I think that would be best.”

  With Avani peering over his shoulder, Kubitz pushed the key to reveal the names above the results.

  The doctors stared at the names for what could’ve been an eternity. Finally, Kubitz broke the silence. “It’s late. I want to try to sleep on this. If my mind will even let me. Tell Holden we’ll meet first thing in the morning.”

  Revelation

  Warm sunlight crept through the gaps in the leaves. An old oak tree swayed in the wind, towering far above Holden. It was almost involuntary: a smile parted his face as he grabbed the chains of the old tire swing.

  His dad’s baritone laugh boomed as he pushed the swing. Holden had been looking forward to this all day. His favorite part of each day was when his dad came home to play with him. He begged his dad to push harder, the thrill of the wind racing past his ears and the ground disappearing below made his heart leap.

  In the distance, a ship rocketed from the nearby spaceport, lancing through the sky toward space. Holden had never been up there. He knew his father had. Someday he would, too. As his dad pushed him, he shouted, “Higher! Higher!”

  He flew upward, imagining he was on his own rocket ship bound for the stars. Giggles bubbled from his mouth as he felt the thrill in his gut. He closed his eyes against the wind, the atmosphere parted before him, inviting his ship into the heavens. Just when he wondered if he might actually touch the stars, the swing fell backward toward the Earth, continuing its arcing trajectory.

  It was the perfect day.

  As the swing twisted and arced through the air, his father’s laughter began to change. It became more staccato and rough, almost a buzzing tone.

  Holden whirled toward his dad, confused. Every time he opened his mouth, the bleating tone came out. Holden tried to ask his dad what was wrong, but found his voice gone. He leaped from the swing into his dad’s open arms.

  Holden woke with a start. Heart racing, he was fairly sure he’d almost fallen from his bunk.

  As he lay in his bed trying to ignore his datapad’s alarm, he clenched his eyes and tried to remember his dad. He couldn’t picture his face. Just a hazy memory. Dark eyes. Sandy hair. Nothing more than faded dreams.

  The intercom chimed.

  “Holden, briefing in half an hour. Conference room. Thanks.”

  The announcement from Dr. Kubitz was curt. Holden wondered what he’d missed. He groaned as he stretched, bones sore from the light gravity. Reluctantly, he stood and began to get ready for the day.

  ∆∆∆

  Kubitz signed off the intercom and took a deep breath. How would he break this news? He had no frame of reference for this.

  Oh, good morning. Guess what, you’re a clone. You take sugar in your coffee, right?

  Not hardly.

  He looked at himself in the mirror, deciding if his beard had grown scraggy enough to merit a shave. The bags under his eyes could’ve held back a flood. He wasn’t sure how much sleep he’d gotten, but it wasn’t much. He’d tossed and turned all night wrestling with the issue. After hours of turmoil, he still had no words.

  His stomach turned from the stress. What would Holden say? How would he react? He eyed his nightstand drawer in the reflection. He kept a compact pistol in there. Not as if he ever planned on using it up here. Habit, perhaps. He shook his head. What would he do, shoot his adopted kid?

  Adopted.

  The word had a weird taste now. Who was Holden, then? The group home had told him Holden was his sister’s kid. He hadn’t talked to his sister in almost twenty years, so he wasn’t surprised he’d never heard of Holden. Heck, the group home broke the news about his sister’s death.

  Somehow, all of that was a lie. A headache threatened as he tried to wrap his mind around of all those implications. He had to focus on the now. Holden was waiting to find out that he was a clone. Kubitz had to tell him. He wasn’t ready. For all he knew, they’d programmed Holden to activate when he got caught. Maybe the pistol wasn’t a bad idea…

  Shaking his head, he rubbed the scruff on his chin and buttoned up his shirt. No shave today. No guns, either.

  Once he’d gotten reasonably presentable, he left his quarters and headed to meet his team in the conference room. Now desperate, he hoped words would just come to him. He stopped in the hallway near the comm station. He considered calling the man in the black suit and letting it be his problem. No, he should handle this himself. Holden deserved a familiar face.

  Kubitz found Avani and Holden waiting in the small, sterile conference room. The dark gray walls stood in somber contrast to the white oval table that occupied the center of the room. Blue overhead diffuse lighting gave the room a dusky mood; the lights went well with the tired faces he saw before him. Avani stared forward with a clinical collectedness while Holden bounced his knee and studied the tile pattern on the ground.

  “We have a problem,” Kubitz said. He grimaced. Not the best way to start. “We seem to have found the Echo Code.”

  “Doesn’t sound like a problem to me,” Holden said.

  “You’re right. That’s the good news. The bad news—”

  “The bad news is that one of us is a clone. Avani already told me.”

  Kubitz shot a look to Avani who shrugged.

  “Well,” Holden said. “Who is it? I mean, I would know if it was me, right? It’s not like I could go my whole life without knowing that I was a clone. So what if clones aren’t all bad, right?”

  “It’s not that simple, Holden,” Avani said. “From what we’ve observed, most clones aren’t even aware they are clones. They think they’re fighting for the good guys, as you might say. Whoever among us is the clone likely has no idea. That person can control their own destiny now.”

  “I’m not sure I buy that,” Holden scoffed.

  “Which part?” Kubitz asked.

  “Honestly?” Holden leaned forward. “Both. You actually believe someone can be a clone and not realize it? Like they’d forget growing up in a test tube? What, raised by aliens?” He shook his head. “I don’t buy it.”

  Avani narrowed her eyes. “The cloning process is, frankly, beyond us. Conditioning plays a significant role, that much is certain. They implant memories. The clones reach maturity convinced they’re humans from Earth, fighting the good fight.”

  Holden buried his head in his hands. “You would have to know.”

  “Not necessarily,” Kubitz said. “Clones also have the implants. The Sardaan likely feed the clones updated memories periodically to make sure it stays fresh. In fact, we know they do this, because we’ve intercepted so
me of the updates. They unpack in the clones’ minds as dreams and memories.”

  Holden looked up. “What kinds of dreams?”

  “Usually warm memories. Something to anchor them in humanity.”

  “Humanity…” Holden trailed off. “It’s hard to know what to believe. I’ve never considered what it’s like to be a clone. Do they have thoughts?”

  Avani nodded. “They are human. Sentient. Like us in every way. They experience sadness. They can be angry. They have pleasures: they enjoy ice cream and sex, just like—”

  “Woah,” Holden said, blushing. “Don’t make it weird. I don’t want to picture them, well, you know…”

  Avani looked to Kubitz with a raised eyebrow. “It’s a completely natural process, Holden, I merely seek to illustrate that they are human in every way we measure the notion.”

  Holden’s eyes darted back and forth between Kubitz and Avani, as if deciding how comfortable he was with the idea.

  “So what if the activists have it right?” He sat forward. “No, really. If we’re going to consider them human, doing human things—” he shot an awkward glance to Avani “—then we should talk about the testing, right?”

  Kubitz mulled it over. In all the permutations of this conversation he’d considered in the previous few hours, sympathizer hadn’t made the list. “It’s complicated,” he said, forcing a smile.

  “Doesn’t seem that way. But then again, you always say this is wartime, doc. So, maybe—ugh, I can’t wrap my head around this.”

  Kubitz looked to Avani. She simply nodded toward the boy with a furrowed brow.

  “Holden, I need you to listen carefully,” Kubitz said as he slid into a chair at the table. “We have to talk.”

  “Wait.” Holden’s eyes widened. “If one of you is a clone, the other surely knows. And you’re still friends.” He looked back and forth. “You’re both in on it aren’t you?” He stood and backed away from the table.

  “It’s not like that.”

  “I see what you did. You tried to convince me that we can all be friends and sing kumbaya together, so I wouldn’t hate you. But you’re working together. If they program the clones, like you say, you would have to be. You can’t escape that. Both of you. Come in here trying to humanize the monsters they are. The monsters you are.”

  “Just wait.” Kubitz held up a hand to try to diffuse Holden. “It’s important to remember that as humans, even genetically engineered, we can all control our own destiny. We can all choose who we want to be.”

  Holden continued to back away, shaking his head. “I don’t see how. You are who you’re created to be. You’re—you’re—”

  “Holden, you’re the clone.”

  Holden opened his mouth and froze. He stood unblinking. Finally he slumped back into a chair. “It’s not possible.”

  “It is very much possible,” Avani said.

  “Doc, you’ve known me almost my whole life. You’d know.”

  “Actually,” Kubitz said. “I wish I was able put this more delicately.” He rubbed his face. “Holden, I didn’t even realize you existed until you were fourteen. My sister and I have always had a… tenuous relationship. I hadn’t seen her in almost two decades.”

  Holden looked at Kubitz with betrayal etched across his face. His eyes were already turning red and swollen. “I—I don’t understand.”

  “I know. We’re having a tough time ourselves,” Avani offered.

  “We,” Holden repeated. “It’s always you against me, isn’t it?”

  “It’s not like that,” Kubitz said.

  “Isn’t it?” Holden shook his head for the hundredth time that morning. “You two are always off working your problems. I’m just the errand boy. And I’m not smart enough to prove you wrong. And you.” He looked to Kubitz, eyes beginning to water. “You could’ve been like a father to me.”

  “And I still can be,” Kubitz reached for Holden, but the young man jerked away. “It doesn’t have to be any different. You can still be who you are. Don’t you see?”

  “Who you say I am. How can I be sure you’re telling the truth?”

  Kubitz opened his mouth to respond, but Avani cut him off. “X-Rays,” she said.

  “What?” Kubitz and Holden said in unison.

  Avani looked back and forth between them. “We do an X-Ray to confirm. If Holden has the implant, it’s true. If not, then it’s just a freak coincidence. Though I’d hate to admit the latter.”

  “Of course,” Kubitz said. He should’ve thought of that. How had he missed it? “Holden, here’s where we are: We have fairly compelling evidence that what we’ve said is true. It’s hard to process, I know. I’m having a difficult time with it myself. I—I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But we can do this test to see once and for all. That evidence will be undeniable.”

  Holden rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. Do whatever you have to do.”

  “I think it’s best if you take a little time to process. Don’t worry about any of your usual responsibilities today, Holden. Avani and I will get the X-Ray set up and call you in about an hour, okay?”

  “Yeah, whatever.” Holden trudged out of the room.

  “Will he be okay?” Avani asked after he’d left earshot.

  “I hope so,” Kubitz said. “Let’s get this X-Ray set up, yeah?”

  “There’s something about this we haven’t discussed.”

  “Just one thing?”

  Avani rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious. If Holden has an implant—and as a clone he most assuredly does—is it receiving? Could the Sardaan activate him?”

  “It’s a possibility,” Kubitz admitted. Holden was a veritable Manchurian candidate. He opened his mouth to say something else, but lost the words.

  “You’re telling me this could all take a deadly turn at any moment.”

  Kubitz nodded. “I won’t let it come to that.”

  “What can you do about it? We should confine him. Possibly even sedate him.”

  Kubitz sighed. “He’s still Holden, we—”

  “For now.” Avani cut him off. “That could change at any moment. We shouldn’t take this lightly.”

  “Should I call the man in the black suit?” Kubitz asked.

  “If Holden is a clone, this could go very badly for us,” Avani said. “I would allege that we have done our job. To be honest, I’m not sure how safe I feel with him around here anymore.”

  “The more we talk about it, the less safe I feel myself. But let’s at least do this X-Ray and confirm before we call in the cavalry. This is my nephew we’re talking about.”

  Avani shook her head. “He has been for the last ten years. But he wasn’t always. You would do well to remember that.”

  “And all that talk earlier about how human they are?” Kubitz frowned.

  “I was hoping to influence his response. So far, it seems to have worked. That could all change any moment.”

  ∆∆∆

  Holden left the small radiation lab, hands thrust in his pockets so they wouldn’t shake so much. He’d just had the X-Ray done. He’d had X-Rays before, but never on his head. Every time, he’d tried to close his eyes and feel the photons of radiation pouring through his body. If he tried hard enough, he might be able to do it. He never could.

  The doctors told him the results would take some time. He knew that was a lie. X-Rays had garnered nearly instantaneous results for nearly two centuries. The tech wasn’t new.

  He stalked the halls, wondering what the doctors were hiding. What didn’t they want him to know?

  His mind reeled. He considered each interaction he’d had with the doctors, as far as his memory would allow. If he thought hard enough, he’d remember something that would show their hand.

  He felt lied to. The doctor had been his mentor and only stable figure in his life. Had it all been a lie? Had the last decade all been part of some master plan to take down humanity from as close to Earth as possible? From the inside, even? />
  His mind drifted to Dr. Sifra. He’d had a boyish crush on her since the team had arrived on Lune, but those feelings had all dissolved quickly. Besides the time they’d spent together over the last year, he didn’t know much about her. She was efficient. Sometimes seemed emotionally detached. It was easy to believe she was a clone. Not to mention, she was an expert in genetics. Because of that, Dr. Kubitz had worked so hard to recruit her. Or he had another motive.

  Holden began to panic as he realized he might be the only human at the lab. He suddenly felt very isolated. If both doctors were clones, the rest of the installation could be clones. He looked out a nearby window at the rest of the facility and the chalky plains beyond. Everyone on this moon could be enemies.

  Now that he thought on it, that Stan—or Stewart or Steve or whatever—from the facility had acted too aggressive. Standoffish. Like he had something to hide.

  Who could he trust now? His skin tingled. His chest felt tight. He had to get off Lune.

  Holden fairly ran to his quarters, taking the long loping strides necessary to move quickly in the low gravity. He slapped the door panel inside his room and the door sealed shut behind him. He stalked over to his desk and booted up his terminal. Once he’d logged in, he pulled up the recent facility call list. The lab was fairly remote, so it didn’t take long to find the contact he’d been looking for.

  The call seemed to take forever to connect. He let his eyes wander around his bare room while he waited. A beep at his terminal startled him.

  “This is a secure line. You better have a good reason for this, whoever you are,” the stern voice scolded from the other end of the line.

  “My name is Holden Simpkins, I’m on the team at Lune—”