Cloneward Bound (3 page)

“What—what are you talking about?” stuttered Fisher. Little beads of sweat rolled down the back of his neck.

“When you started acting weird a few weeks ago, I was confused, but I figured you had finally evolved from a sea slug into some kind of vertebrate.” Apparently, Fisher’s new fame hadn’t made people forget about his father’s Bas-Hermaphrodite-Sea-Slug Hypothesis. Fisher tried to wriggle away from her grasp, but there was no escape. He was at Amanda’s mercy. “
Then
you crawled out of TechX completely unhurt, even though the whole place blew sky-high moments earlier—”

“Look, Amanda, if we could maybe—”

“After you came back to school, you were right-handed, even though you’d been left-handed the week before. And you have a third freckle on your nose that I
know
wasn’t there before.”

Fisher’s eyes darted around the hallway, willing someone to help him. But the few people left in the hall were busy at their own lockers or shot a terrified glance at Amanda before scurrying away. He’d never had help when the Vikings bullied him. He wasn’t going to get it now that Amanda practically had him in a headlock.

“You understand how these events conflict, don’t you? Did you think no one would notice?” Her steely eyes bore into Fisher. He could practically feel a little burning spot on his forehead. His knees were beginning to twitch.

“L-listen,” he said, struggling frantically for excuses, “I know a lot of weird things have happened, but I don’t know what you’re—
ow
!” Her fingers dug into his left shoulder as she fished a smart phone out of her pocket. She held the screen inches from his face.

“Shut up and watch,” she said, and with a few rapid flicks of her fingers, pulled up a video on her phone.

The screen faded up on a simple setup: a small room with blank walls and floor, and a chair in the middle.

A chair in which Fisher was sitting.

Only it wasn’t Fisher. It was Two. Showing his face—
Fisher’s
face!—on camera.

“We here at Spot-Rite have been getting your spots right out for over ten years now,” Two was saying chirpily. It was an audition tape for a commercial. “And as long as there are spots to get out, we will continue to provide
the best cleaning product available.” Two went on to talk about the newest Spot-Rite product—a cleaner that was nontoxic and edible, so parents wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning a counter with it and contaminating their food. He then had a three-person discussion about the product, with two sock puppets dressed as kittens. The puppets began to dance in the air to prerecorded music as Two sang a jingle.

But the real kicker was when a third puppet—this one, a dog—came into the shot. Was Two operating a sock puppet with each hand and a
foot
? The clone’s talents and abilities were matched only by the insanity of the things he chose to use them for.

Fisher’s eyes skated frantically to the stats posted below the video. For a moment, he thought he was going to pass out. The video had already gotten ten thousand views in three days. The first comment was: awwww so
CUTE
. the cats aren’t bad either loling.

“See the time stamp in the bottom left corner?” Amanda said. Fisher just managed to nod. “This video was filmed three days ago, at eight fifty in the morning. When you were sitting in Ms. Snapper’s class
right in front of me
.”

“You don’t understand—I mean, I don’t understand—I mean, there’s an explanation—” He wished he could argue logically, but he knew he sounded like he was having a panic attack with a duck call in his mouth.

“Save it, Fisher.” She shook him once, hard. “I want the truth and nothing but the truth.”

“Okay, okay.” He held up both hands in surrender. He knew that Amanda and Two had become close when the clone had been in school. Ever since Fisher had crawled from the ruins of TechX, Amanda had been watching him like a hawk, observing the way he acted and spoke. She looked like she was keeping a catalogue of every move he made in her hard drive of a brain. He couldn’t keep the truth from her, but maybe he could keep her from spreading it. “I’ll tell you the truth, but can we go somewhere else?”

Amanda let Fisher go and pointed to the same supply closet Brody had threatened him with. Forcing images of the janitor’s mop bucket from his mind, Fisher nodded reluctantly.

“In,” she said. Fisher checked to make sure the hall was clear, and they slipped into the closet.

“Okay,” Amanda said, even more intimidating in the dim, harsh light of the closet’s tiny, uncovered lightbulb. “Who was sitting in class the day that video was filmed?”

“Fisher,” Fisher said, a tiny squeak popping up into his throat. He swallowed. “Me.”

“And who made that video?”

“Fisher … Two.” Fisher clenched his eyes closed and
gritted his teeth. Finally. He had said it. The secret was out.

“Fisher, I just said you couldn’t have done both,” Amanda replied, leaning closer threateningly.

“No, no,” he said, “not
too
like also.
Two
. The number two.”

Amanda stared at him for a moment.

“There’s more than one of you,” she said, completely deadpan.

“Two, to be exact,” Fisher said, “and that’s what I call him. Two. I … made him. In my bedroom.” Amanda raised an eyebrow so high, it threatened to zip off her forehead and embed itself in the ceiling. Fisher sighed and, stuttering, told her the whole story of Two’s life: his mother’s Accelerated Growth Hormone, growing Two in a tank in his room, and the events leading up to the destruction of TechX Enterprises. He also told her about how Two had seen a Spot-Rite commercial on television the moment he “woke up” and become obsessed with the idea that the actress in it was his mother. The only thing he carefully left out was the fact that Dr. X had used an android looking exactly like Amanda to lure Two in.

He’d lied to Two to keep him under control. He’d told him that they were on a covert mission to rescue their mother and that the middle school was a training
ground for the evil organization that they were fighting against. Fisher didn’t know how much of it Two really still believed after what they went through at TechX (he was, after all, as brilliant as Fisher), but if he was auditioning to be the new face of Spot-Rite, there was a pretty good chance he still believed the Spot-Rite actress was his mother.

When he’d finally let everything out, he actually felt kind of relieved, like he’d been carrying a sack of rocks everywhere he went and he’d just thrown a few of them away.

“Listen to me,” Fisher said. “This can’t get out. I was almost killed trying to keep Two’s existence a secret. I didn’t even know he escaped TechX until a few days ago, but he could be in serious danger if anyone else finds him. I need you to promise you’ll tell no one. If Two’s in LA, I have a chance to get to him before he blows this secret wide open.”

Amanda leaned in very close and looked Fisher straight in the eyes. Fisher would have backed away, but he was already pressed up against the shelves of toilet paper and the weird powder janitors use when kids puke in the hallway. For a second, he thought Amanda might head-butt him. He gulped.

“Hmm.” Amanda backed away and held out her hand. She seemed to have made her decision. Fisher breathed
a sigh of relief and shook it, trying not to wince at the strength of her grip.

“If it was anyone else but you, I wouldn’t believe it. But I think you’re telling the truth,” Amanda said. “If your secret is putting Two … and you,” she added grudgingly, “in danger, I’ll help you get him back. On one condition.”

“… Okay,” Fisher said, feeling a pulse of anxiety. He was glad to have the help, but he couldn’t imagine what Amanda’s condition would be. His thoughts flew wildly through possibilities. Would she blackmail him into paying her a secret-keeping fee for the rest of his life? Would she make him do all of her science homework forever? Would she want him to create an Amanda Two?

“Convince him to be my date for the fall formal.”

Fisher was momentarily speechless.

“You want to take him to a
dance
?” he finally choked out. “That’s your condition? Have you listened to a word I’ve said?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” she snapped quickly. “I don’t
like
him or anything like that. But it’s one of the biggest events of the year and he’s the only boy around that I could put up with for an entire evening.”

“But, but … I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to convince him,” Fisher said. “I can’t tell him what to do.
Besides, I was going to ask Veronica to the formal. And I already explained that
both
Fishers can’t go to the dance.”

“I gave you my condition,” Amanda said. “What you do about it is your problem.” With that, she took him by the elbow, spun him around, and pushed him out of the closet.

CHAPTER 3

Fisher arrived home still trembling. He couldn’t believe that his deepest, darkest secret was no longer his alone. He felt a slight tingle as he walked through the Liquid Door of the front gate, passing through it as if it were mist. Someone with DNA the house didn’t recognize would bounce off it like they’d hit a brick wall.

As terrifying as the confrontation with Amanda had been, he still felt a sense of relief. It had felt good to tell the truth. And Amanda had volunteered to help. He had a chance to find Two again. He could set everything right.

He walked between clusters of volleyball-size grapes clinging to vines as wide as Fisher’s entire body. The latest addition to his mother’s experimental garden was faring well. A French vineyard had signed a contract with Mrs. Bas, since just two of her grapes would yield a full bottle of wine. Plus, they provided a place for his father’s newest batch of landlobsters to live and play.

As Fisher pushed open the door, he stopped and sighed.
His father was in the foyer, hopping on one foot trying to untangle his suspenders from his left ankle. His mother’s head was bent sideways because one dangly earring had gotten caught in her necklace chain.

His parents could alter genetic structures with their eyes closed. They could design ovens that could discuss geopolitics while broiling chicken. But they could barely dress themselves in normal clothing, much less
act
like normal human beings.

“Hey, there, Fisher,” his dad said, between hops.

“Welcome home, sweetie,” his mom said. The way her head was twisted made her look like a confused bird.

“Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad,” Fisher said with a sigh. “Big night out?”

“We’re going to the symphony,” his dad said, freeing himself from his own suspenders only to hook his cufflinks together. He walked toward Fisher with his wrists bound together. “Could you give me a hand, Fisher?”

“Sure,” Fisher said, reaching up and trying to figure out how his father had managed to handcuff himself with only a pair of fancy buttons. He looked up at his dad’s disheveled mop. “Your hair looks a little, um …” He gestured with his hands, since what he really wanted to say was,
Your hair looks like an iguana’s nest after a hurricane
.