CHAPTER 87
MY MUSIC CHANGED to R.E.M.’s “Imitation of Life.” Wondered why Algar was telling me that there were clones here. I kind of already knew. Didn’t need to hear a song about psychopaths, either, because I was quite clear that I was looking at half a room full of them.
“Earth is finally joining the rest of the galaxy,” Jeff said, possibly to get Cliff’s attention off of Chuckie. “Why are you so hell-bent on destroying that?”
Cliff cackled again, but he did indeed turn away from Chuckie. “Oh, I’m not going to destroy that. I’m going to watch this world burn and then I’m going to take my place as the ruler of the galaxy.”
“Megalomaniac much?” Tim asked. “Some people start with successfully running a country or something first.”
Cliff shrugged. “And some don’t. Really, we need to get things rolling,” he said to LaRue. “We do have—”
“A timetable to keep to.” LaRue sounded bored and annoyed. “Do you say anything else anymore?”
“Someone undoubtedly has their part to play, too,” Reader said. “Don’t forget Cliff’s other favorite phrase.” LaRue snorted a laugh while Cliff glared. And squinted. That was it. His eyesight had been damaged along with the rest of him. He couldn’t see Francine clearly enough to note the differences. Everyone was acting like Francine was me, so Cliff was assuming they were correct.
“The aliens coming next are going to destroy everyone,” White said. “You won’t be immune.”
Cliff, LaRue, and all the Reids all chortled. “Yes, the ones coming will indeed help me destroy everything,” Cliff said. “We’re looking very forward to their arrival.”
“I meant the ones these others are fleeing,” White clarified, keeping the monologuing alive.
“Oh, we have that handled,” LaRue said. “You all always aim so low.” She shook her head. “You could have ruled this world. And all you did was cower in your underground buildings and help humanity.” She got a lot of sneer into that sentence.
“We understand that you’re not the altruistic type,” White said calmly. “Though, honestly, I fail to see how you have a hope against the Aicirtap. You might be a Z’porrah spy or, rather, your original was. But you mean nothing to the Aicirtap.”
The music changed again. To the Beastie Boys’ “Rhymin and Stealin.” Had no idea where Algar was going with this now at all.
“I’m a real person,” LaRue said defensively. “So are they,” she indicated the Reids.
“That’s why you made twenty-five of him and only one of you?” Reader asked.
“More of me means I get to have more fun,” the Reid who was likely to be the Original Clone said. He pulled Adriana out of the group. “I want this one. Every one of us wants this one.”
“Sure,” Cliff said. “I’ll enjoy watching.”
“Leave her alone,” Buchanan growled.
“You wish,” LaRue said. “I think we want to do whatever to the ladies first. So all their protective men can watch helplessly while Lev does what he does best to them. Repeatedly.”
My body felt cold. Better than anyone here, I knew exactly what Reid wanted to do to Francine, Adriana, and, if he caught me, me. Rahmi, too, if she shifted to show she was a woman. And I could not allow that. But I had literally no idea of what to do.
“How did you make all the clones?” Adriana asked. “We destroyed your lab.”
LaRue’s eyes got wide. “You were there. I can’t wait for Lev to rip you apart.”
Adriana shrugged, as much as she could with the grip Reid had on her upper arm. “I still have no idea how you were able to create the others. Frankly, I didn’t think any of you had the capability to adapt this quickly.”
Cliff patted the Killer Octopus. “This has many settings.”
“You’ve created a cloning ray?” Reader asked. “Pull the other one.” Had to give it to my team—no one sounded as scared as they had to be in reality.
“Want to see it in action?” Cliff asked.
“I don’t want to have my brain devolved, so not really,” Reader said, sounding unimpressed.
“Oh, we’ll show you. Russell, come to daddy.” Cliff smiled in a way that was intended to be frightening. It was effective.
Kozlow walked toward him in the jerking manner one does when one is trying not to pee in terror. Okay, so my regular team wasn’t showing how frightened they were.
Cliff took one of the nozzles on the Killer Octopus. My goggles adjusted their magnification so that I could see what he was doing as if I was standing right there. Sent a silent thank you to Algar.
Cliff was fiddling with some knobs. Unlike the Death Ray in Bizarro World, the Killer Octopus wasn’t golden. It looked to be made out of ordinary steel. There were three large knobs, which also looked like steel, each with three smaller knobs under them. He fiddled with the left set of knobs, then turned the nozzle on Kozlow.
A stream of light came out of the metal hose and bathed Kozlow. At the same time, all the lights went out, the TV screen went blank, and a couple of backup lights went on, ensuring that the room now looked like the creepiest cave ever. So maybe that’s why they didn’t bother with cameras and screens—the Killer Octopus was taking all their available power.
Realized that “Rhymin and Stealin” was on repeat. Of all the songs to repeat, this one seemed the least helpful. Then again, Algar never repeated a song for no reason. Forced myself to focus on the music and think while Cliff kept the light hose on Kozlow, which was even harder because the machine was making a high, whining noise.
Considered the songs Algar had had on repeat during Operation Madhouse. One had been repeated due to its title. But one had repeated due to its lyrics. So, while Cliff indeed ordered the “traitor” from G-Company who’d had the nerve to help his enemies find his private entrance come forward to be “taught a lesson” next, I listened to the lyrics.
There was a form of chorus in this song. And when I listened, actually listened, to it, I got it. Because the chorus was “Ali Baba and the forty thieves.”
Leaned up to whisper in where I hoped Mossy’s ear was. “You stay here. You’ll know when to shoot.”
He nodded and sat on the ledge. It was precarious, but he was too short to stand on the ground and be able to see.
Pulled Wruck’s head down. “It’s showtime. We need to get out of the alcove.”
Wruck nodded and stepped out. I followed. As I did, my music changed to “Invisible Touch” by Genesis. So I neither jumped nor screamed when Siler appeared. He had a couple rifles. Figured he’d taken them off the pile downstairs. “What are you doing?” he asked softly.
“Creating the distraction.” Looked at Wruck. “Give him all your guns.” Wruck obliged. “Mossy’s up here with you. I know I can count on you to shoot straight.”
Siler nodded. “Go get ’em, tiger. Just be careful. I’ve been through the rest of the complex—anything living is not alive any longer.”
“Clones?”
“Or what’s passing for them.”
Mossy waved at us and I went back over. He pointed down and I took a look. There were now two Kozlows standing there. They both looked ready to faint, presumably because Kozlow hadn’t expected to be cloned but to be disintegrated. But one didn’t look quite as right as the other. “The one on the right is the clone,” Mossy whispered. “Whatever tech he’s using for this, it’s not from Earth.”
The glowing light stopped and the lights came back on. Cliff fiddled with the knobs on the right. Then he turned back to face Kozlow. “And now, you’ll get to see the other thing this can do.” He turned the hose on the one Mossy had identified as the clone. The lights went off again, then a white hot beam shot out of the hose. And then there was no clone, just a little pile of dust. The lights dutifully came back on.
Everyone in the room gasped, even LaRue and some of the Reid clones, and there were a few little shrieks as well. Didn’t stop to be horrified—I had work to do.
Backed out of the alcove and went to Wruck and Siler to continue whispering. “Nightcrawler, tell me what you found, right now. Just do it fast.”
“Fifteen versions of Casey. Most of them looked like her, but some looked as bad as you all said the one who blew up the D.C.P.D. had. Didn’t find her original, though. Did find young versions of what I’m certain were LaRue and Cliff. They didn’t resemble Reid at all, but they looked just like those two do, in LaRue’s case, and did, in Cliff’s. Various ages, none younger than nine, none older than late teens.”
“You killed them all?” Wruck asked.
Siler nodded. “Quickly and painlessly, which is more than they were doing to the other things I found.”
“Which were?”
He heaved a quiet sigh. “Infants. I think they were already starting to clone Reynolds in the time since he’s been taken. All of them looked alike and, due to whatever process they’re using, they looked like him now, versus how I presume he looked as a child. And the other ‘children’ were torturing these clones. Horrifically. And they were enjoying it.”
My stomach clenched. “What did you do with—”
“I put them out of their misery.” Siler looked like I remembered the uncles looking—stoic and all business. “There is no way Reynolds would want these ‘children’ to grow up, if they even could after what was being done to them, and we have no way of knowing what Cliff mixed into them, either. We have enough monsters to deal with—we don’t need any more.”
My throat felt tight. “But they were innocent.”
“And suffering,” Siler said flatly.
“To kill evil is, many times, easy,” Wruck said gently. “But to put something innocent out of its misery is much harder. But, all too often, it’s just as necessary.”
Jeff had said similar to me, at the end of Operation Confusion, when I’d had to destroy the Room of Hot Zombies, who had all included the mental signature of Wade, Walter and William’s middle brother, as well as a ton of other murdered Field agents. Wade had begged me to kill them all before they became an unstoppable threat to everyone they cared about. Chuckie had been with me and White when we’d had to do that. And I knew without asking that he’d agreed with the others—the evil and the innocent were, in this case, both better off dead.
I didn’t have to like it. But, as with everything and everyone else, I was going to have to avenge what Cliff’s latest bouts of insanity had done. And I needed to do that right now.