Cloneward Bound (16 page)

At dinner that night, Fisher used his fork to separate the star fries into their separate points, then cutting the points in half, then rearranging them into various geometric patterns on his plate.

He had never believed in karma before. Now, for the first time, he wondered whether he was being punished for creating Two. Fisher had wanted a clone because he wanted to
avoid
attention. Two had been in LA for barely a week, and already he was on the verge of becoming honest-to-God famous. People fawned over him. Older girls swarmed him. Kevin Keels himself stopped to say hello to him. GG McGee acted like she wanted to be his mother.

Meanwhile, Fisher was slowly but surely losing Veronica to a pop singer who didn’t even really sing his terrible songs. He was being hunted by spies across the length
and breadth of California, and now his best friend in the world—and at this point, probably his
only
friend in the world—had vanished. He knew it would be foolish not to think that FP’s disappearance was unrelated to the spies who were pursuing him, but figuring out what to
do
about it was a whole other matter.

One way or another, he was going to have to take action, and he was going to have to do it tonight. He would have to strike out on his own, with no help from Amanda or anyone else. That meant braving the wilds of Los Angeles after dark. At the same time, if the
Strange Science
crew called Ms. Snapper to report that they’d found FP, and Fisher wasn’t there, she’d find out that he’d left the hotel without permission and that would make things even worse. He was treading on a narrow ledge above a two-thousand-foot drop.

Even though Fisher hadn’t eaten a single bite of the fries and special sauce congealing on his plate, his stomach felt as heavy as a cement block. Now he knew what people spoke about when they said “rock bottom.” Things couldn’t get any worse. Two could be anywhere. FP could be anywhere.

Fisher wanted to think that the agents after him wouldn’t hurt an animal, but if they’d chase a little kid in broad daylight, who knew what their limits were?

And then Kevin Keels strutted through the door, and Fisher’s low got 100 percent lower.

A chorus of shouts and cheers filled the room. Keels was surrounded by his usual retinue of followers, managers, bodyguards, and agents screaming into cell phones. GG, Fisher was happy to see, was not among them.

Fisher saw Veronica’s eyes light up instantly. As a table was quickly cleared for Kevin across the room, Fisher looked back and forth between the pop star and Veronica, then sighed to himself. He had somehow alienated his only ally, he had lost his clone, and his doom seemed imminent.

It was all over for him. He had failed Two. Sooner or later, the clone’s existence would come to light, and he’d be dissected like a bio class frog, and it would be Fisher’s fault. And when the secret of Two was discovered, his parents would kill him before the government agency could get to him. Or lock him in a tank with the musical octopus. Which was pretty much the same thing.

The least he could do with the little remaining time he had was to try to make Veronica—beautiful, wonderful, totally out-of-his-league Veronica—happy.

Fisher got up from his seat, walked down the table, and grabbed Veronica’s hand. He tried to ignore the shock that the touch alone sent through him.

“Follow me,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face. He didn’t look back as he led her over to Keels’s table.

“Basley, my man,” Kevin said as Fisher walked up next to him.

“Hey, Kev,” Fisher said, trying to match the singer’s cool tone. “I thought I’d introduce you to a friend of mine. This is Veronica.” Fisher stepped aside as Veronica, loose-jawed, waved and giggled. “She’s got a real way with words,” Fisher added. “Might be able to help you out with some lyrics. All right, I’ll see you both later.”

He turned away, feeling his heart boil away into vapor. Almost instantly, it seemed to recondense into a ten-ton brick.
I know what you are, you lousy fake
, he thought as hard as he could, imagining that Kevin Keels could hear him.
I’m only doing this because it’s what she wants. You’d better not let her down
.

“That was quick,” Trevor said, walking up to him as he went back to his table.

“What was?” Fisher asked.

“I saw you walk into the bathroom, like, ten seconds ago. Were you just checking out your hair or something?”

“I wasn’t in the …” Fisher’s pulse stopped entirely, then came hammering back like his veins were full of pebbles. Two. “Um, yes, actually,” he corrected himself, taking a slow step back, then a quicker one. “My hair. I should check it again, in fact.” He turned and broke into a full-on sprint.

He shoved the men’s room door so hard it cracked a tile on the wall. The noise startled the bathroom’s only occupant.

Without having to look into the mirror, Fisher was looking at his face.

“You!” Fisher said barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Two said, his expression hard. “Me. I’m here because we need to have a little talk. I’m tired of your lies.”

“What … do you mean?” said Fisher. He shot a nervous glance at the door behind him, praying no one would have to use the bathroom.

“Amanda confronted me last night,” Two said. “She asked me to come back.”

“You
should
come back!” Fisher shouted. “We’re very close to being—”

“I’m not done,” Two cut in. “I asked her how long she’s been fighting our enemies. About what steps she wants to take against Wompalog and its overlords. About the guards and how we might escape them.”

“And?” Fisher said, holding his breath and hoping that the next words out of Two’s mouth would be anything other than what he expected them to be.

“And she looked at me like I was crazy,” Two said, exactly the words Fisher had been dreading he would say. “Oh, she tried to play along after that, but she couldn’t cover up her initial reaction.
What
side is she really on? Who are we really fighting?”

“Look,” Fisher said, “I told you people were coming after us, and now you’ve seen it for yourself. We can discuss the details after we make a getaway. For now, we need to focus on getting back home without being caught!”

“I’m not going anywhere just yet,” Two said, walking past Fisher and putting a hand on the door. “First, I’m going to find out what’s going on, with or without your help.” With that, Two pulled the door open and stormed out.

“Wait!” Fisher said, on the verge of bolting after him. “This could be our last—” The bathroom door slammed closed an inch from Fisher’s nose. Fisher realized what would happen if his classmates saw them both at the same time. Helplessly, he hid in a stall, stewing.

Two was taking matters into his own hands. Fisher would have to do the same. He might be lying to Two, but he was doing it for the sake of both of their lives. Wasn’t he? He clenched his fists tightly as he stood up from the stall. He was tired of being followed. He was tired of sneaking around. He was tired of explaining himself to Amanda. But most of all, he was tired of being ignored.

He was out of time. Two was coming home … one way or another.

CHAPTER 15

Fisher threw the bathroom door open when enough time had passed that he thought it would be safe.

Moving deliberately and with confidence, he strode right out of the King of Hollywood, across the entrance plaza, and onto the sidewalk, moving at a quick pace.

Other hotels and large restaurants dotted the street near the hotel, and Fisher wove through the thick crowds. He had an idea of where Two was staying and felt confident he could track Two down at his home. He didn’t know what he was going to do when he got there, but he was getting Two to come back with him if he had to hog-tie him and throw him in a duffel bag.

He would track FP down, too, even if it meant he had to break into every warehouse and basement in Los Angeles to do it.

He still wrestled with the question of what he was
going to do in the long term. The people coming after him weren’t going to stop until they either recovered the missing AGH or were satisfied that Fisher wasn’t responsible for its loss. There was no more AGH for him to return. The only thing he could think of was keeping Two completely hidden until the agents left his trail. But then what? He couldn’t just parade the clone out again. And it really didn’t look like Two felt like being a hermit for the rest of his life.

What had Two said?
We can’t keep a lid on this thing forever, you know
. Fisher knew that he was right. When he had created Two, he had been thinking only of immediate possibilities and consequences. What would happen in two years, or five years, or ten years? What would happen when Fisher left home to go to college? Could he really expect to keep the world in the dark about Two for that long?

The only other way to maintain the illusion of a single Fisher, was for the original to leave Palo Alto himself. If Fisher-2 wouldn’t disappear, then Fisher-1 would have to. But even if the plan had been vaguely appealing, he didn’t think it would actually work. His parents were bound to notice the difference.

Which left him the option of telling the truth.

Which brought him right back to the spy problem.

In other words, things would be just as bad as they’d always been.

The King of Hollywood was close to Melrose Avenue, a major boulevard that ran for miles through LA. If he walked it for long enough, he would eventually reach the little spur of Melrose Place, where GG McGee had said he’d be able to find Two.

So he’d walk. He knew that he might be late getting back, but if a lecture from Ms. Snapper was the harshest thing he’d have to face tonight, he’d count it as a giant win. With Two gone renegade and FP kidnapped, he no longer cared about chaperones, schedules, or curfews. Besides, if he failed and his pursuers caught up to him, chances are nobody at Wompalog would ever see him again, let alone be able to send him to detention.

Fisher thrust his hands into his pockets as he walked. His left hand brushed against a piece of paper that was starting to feel old and torn. He pulled it out and unfolded it. The glaring lights of a rodeo-themed barbecue restaurant tinged it a dull red.

It was his sheet of first-kiss calculations. He stopped in his tracks, staring down at the long series of numeric sequences, variables, and multipart equations, which all contributed to the eventual value of the final variable
K. K
was probably about equal to the number of stars in the sky by this point. Veronica’s affection had settled firmly on a pop singer who wasn’t even a real singer. Despite the events of the past weeks, Fisher realized nothing had really changed. He was still just as big a nobody as ever.