Up and Coming: Stories by the 2016 Campbell-Eligible Authors

Originally Published in The Immortality Chronicles (Windrift Books, 2015), edited by Carol Davis and part of The Future Chronicles anthology series created by Samuel Peralta.

Outside Raleigh, North Carolina * February 5th, 2079

Nick opened his eyes and squinted at the alarm clock. It was ten past noon. He groaned and pulled his comforter over his head, but sunlight filtered through the pattern of moons and spacecraft. Even facing the wall, it was no use. He needed to get up.

“Dad?” he called. He rubbed his eyes and walked down the hallway. His father’s bed was made, and no one was in the kitchen. Nick stretched to open the door to the carport, recoiling as a freezing blast of wind hit him. Their truck was gone. “Must be at work…”

After dragging a chair to reach the countertop, he discovered the frosted flakes were down to their final sugary crumbles—his favorite part. The milk didn’t cover everything, but it was fine after a few bites. He turned on the display in the living room and switched its input to the video game system.

The doorbell rang a half-hour later. Nick jumped and faced the door. A short dark-haired woman cupped her hands around her face to see through the living room window. Her breath fogged the glass, and she stepped back.

“Hi,” she said. Her voice was muffled. “I’m Mrs. McFerrin—Josh’s mom. We live four houses over.”

Nick had met Josh McFerrin at school, but Josh was two grades above him and had different teachers.

“My dad said never to open the door for strangers,” he replied, unsure if she could hear him. He tried to speak louder as he approached the window. “If you want something, he should be back soon.”

“Honey, your father was in an accident.” Mrs. McFerrin paused as Nick’s eyes widened, but she kept her voice calm. “He’s been taken to the hospital, and you can’t stay here alone. Do you have any other family I can call for you—maybe an aunt or uncle?”

Nick shook his head. “It’s just us. Is my dad all right?”

“We don’t know yet.” She took her phone out of her coat pocket. “My husband and Josh stopped to help the police search for you. Your father must have been confused and believed you were in the truck with him. I’ll let them know you’re all right, and the police can take you to the hospital. I’ll wait until they get here.”

The wind picked up, and she huddled closer to the house. Nick walked to the living room door and unlocked it. Mrs. McFerrin eased it open and then shut it behind her.

“It’s really cold out there,” Nick said. She nodded and ended her call. “I’m Nick—Nick Mathis.”

He held his hand out to her, something his dad had taught him. She shook it and crouched to his level.

“Nice to meet you, Nick Mathis,” she said. She forced a smile, but her eyes were watery. “What can you tell me about your dad?”

Abbot-Mathis Industries * Chicago * Thirty-Four Years Later

“You need to be angrier about all of this,” Nick’s business partner William Abbot said. Nick sighed and shook his head. “You dated that woman for three months, broke it off, and she pops up two years later with a book deal about your entire life. How is that right?”

Nick surveyed the lobby as their elevator descended. During product launches or charity drives, two dozen reporters would be considered a great turnout. This crowd appeared closer to two hundred and growing. “I knew Bianca was a biographer when I met her, so it’s my own fault for trusting her. I just wish people would quit acting as if I’m already dead. According to how my treatments go, I can at least consult for another two or three years.”

“I hope it’s longer than that,” Abbot said. “Are you sure you want to hold a press conference now? In a few months, it may not be a major story.”

“People need to know you can hold your own, especially the board,” Nick replied. “The sooner we make the transition, the less likely any vultures will try to move in on you and the McFerrins after I’m gone.”

Abbot frowned but nodded. “Have you spoken with them about your will?”

“Josh and Debra? No, I want to tell them in person. I’ll schedule a trip once all of this settles out.”

The elevator dinged, and its doors opened. Nick took a deep breath and jogged ahead of Abbot—in part to annoy any tabloid journalists attempting to portray him as weak and suffering.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Nick said into his headset. He tapped a file on the podium’s display, hesitating when it showed old financial statements instead of his talking points. He backed out to the main menu and forced a smile. “Let’s begin with a few questions and then save my statement for the end. Who wants to start?”

The crowd shouted over each other. Nick pointed at random to a reporter in the third row.

“Hello, sir,” he said. “I just finished your biography released by Bianca Reynolds—”

“I apologize for my driver’s license photo they stole for the cover,” Nick interrupted. “Sorry, go on.”

“Your father, Dr. David Mathis, developed Alzheimer’s in his early forties, correct?” the reporter continued. Nick gave a reluctant nod. “Given the hereditary aspects of the disease, is your decision to step down as CEO in response to this being made public—and do you intend to stay at AMI in some capacity until—”

Someone screamed, but Nick had no time to react. His vision faded, and the last sensation he felt was falling forward.

Nick gasped and sat upright in a bed, finding himself in darkness. A tangled mass of wires tugged at his skin, and he scrambled to remove them.

As his eyes adjusted, he noticed a small shaft of light outlining a doorway. A stray wire snagged his arm as he stood, but he managed to reach a wall and then feel his way to a door handle. It didn’t budge, and he felt too dizzy and weak to force the door open.

“Authorization required.” The voice was mechanical, and the speaker above his head popped and crackled.

“Is this a hospital?” he asked. It hurt to talk, but the feeling of being trapped was worse. “I’m awake. Can anyone hear me?”

No one answered, but he heard the door unlock. He opened it, expecting another room or hallway.

Instead, the night skyline of Charleston greeted him.

BlueHealth Hospital * Raleigh * February 5th, 2079

Two police officers dropped Nick off with a social worker, a young woman in her twenties who already seemed disheartened by her job. She took his hand and led him through the hospital’s lobby. The linoleum tiles glinted as if they had just been mopped, and the smell of floor cleaner made Nick feel nauseous. The woman pressed the call button for the elevator.

“We’ll need to wait until the doctors can talk to us,” she said as the doors opened, and she pulled for him to go with her. Nick resisted and slipped free from her grasp. “Nick, you need to stay with me.”

“My dad died, didn’t he?” he asked. Mrs. McFerrin and the police officers hadn’t told him, but he had seen it in their expressions. Before the social worker could answer, Nick turned away from her and ran for the exit. He could hear her heels clacking behind him, but they slowed her down.

“Nick, please! Come back!”

He’d almost reached the exit doors when a man caught him with one arm and lifted him from the floor. Nick started hitting him to no avail, but by that point he was crying, too.

“I just didn’t want you to get hit by a car, kid.” The man’s voice was quiet despite the fact he seemed to be seven feet tall. “Is this your sister?”

“I’m his caretaker,” the social worker replied. “Thank you. His father just passed away.”

“David Mathis?” the man asked. The social worker nodded. The man placed Nick in a chair but stood between him and the exit. “I’m Jack McFerrin. My son and I found David’s truck this morning. I wanted to come by and offer his family our condolences and find out if they needed anything. Are they on their way?”

“There isn’t anyone else, I’m afraid—not that I can find, anyway.” The social worker reached for Nick’s hand again, but he scooted back into the chair and gripped the plastic cushion. “Did you know David?”

“We waved at each other in passing—spoke a few times when they first moved into the neighborhood,” Mr. McFerrin replied. Even when he crouched, he was almost as tall as the social worker. He turned his attention to Nick. “I know it’s hard, and it’s okay to cry. Your dad loved you. Josh and I didn’t talk to him long before the ambulance came, but he was more worried about you than he was about himself. I promised him I’d make sure you were all right.”

“I’m not,” Nick replied. He closed his eyes, and tears ran down his cheeks. “I don’t want him to be gone.”

“I know, buddy,” Mr. McFerrin replied. He hugged Nick, and Nick cried on his shoulder until he went limp in exhaustion. “You won’t be alone. I can promise you that.”

Ectotech Labs * Outside Raleigh, North Carolina * Thirty-Four Years later

“Josh, we will pay for your time and travel expenses if you’ll just—”

“What I need is time to think, Mr. Abbot,” Josh McFerrin said into his headset. He wiped his eyes, thankful Abbot and the rest of AMI’s board couldn’t see him. “The police and IBI still have no leads on who killed Nick, and you’re asking me about selling stock we don’t even own yet!”

“I’m not advising you to sell,” Abbot replied, clearly backpedaling. “Taking the company from public back to private may be our best option to recover from Nick’s death. I miss him, too, but this isn’t something we can put off without it affecting thousands of employees and their families.”

“I understand what you’re saying. Deb and I will talk it over with our lawyer and get back to you. Is that fair?”

Voices in the background seemed divided on this, and it took a minute for Abbot to answer.

“Is there any way I could I meet with you there in Raleigh?”

“We won’t turn you away if you show up.” Josh stood, and his golden retriever Dakota began to follow him around the lab with a stuffed giraffe toy. “Just be sure to call first. Our current guard dog is kind of ferocious, and we wouldn’t want you to return to Chicago with missing limbs.”

He ended the call before Abbot had time to respond. Looking over the support suit parts on his lab table, Josh picked up a wiring harness and began to lay out the configuration he needed to attach it. His headset buzzed again, and his shoulders slumped. To his relief, it was his brother-in-law Clint.

“Are you in the middle of anything? I’m about to meet with the new team leader of the Chicago IBI office. I wanted to make sure you’re available if she has questions.”

Josh laid the harness down and walked away from the table. “That’s fine. I’m about to lock up here. I can’t concentrate long enough to get anything done.”

“Are you all right?”

“William Abbot called again,” he replied. “That’s seven times since Nick’s funeral. Deb won’t even answer anymore.”

“That’s probably for the best. I don’t know if Deb has had a chance to tell you, but Nick’s death has been reclassified a contracted hit. You’ve been cleared, but they’re looking into Abbot and several other board members as possible suspects. Debra is still on the list, but it’s a formality due to her past employment.”

“Seriously?” Josh asked. Debra had been out of the CIA for over ten years, but it still came up at odd times. “I’m beginning to think she married me for cover and stayed for the kids.”

“And the free lifetime tech support,” Clint added. “I’ll call you back if I find out anything. Take care of yourself, Josh.”

“I will. Thanks.”

As Josh grabbed his coat, Dakota barked and began scratching at the main door.

“Deb, is that you?” Josh shouted. Dakota’s barking became more frantic. Confused, Josh checked the security cameras. A tall man in a hooded overcoat was on the other side of the door. “Hey, I can see you! What do you want?”

“Not being shot would be nice!” the man shouted back. He sounded like Nick. “I know this is crazy, Josh, but give me a chance to explain.”

Outside Raleigh, North Carolina * February 6th, 2079

“You’ll need to pack for the next two weeks.” The social worker hadn’t slept the entire time they were at the hospital and had put her car into auto-drive. Nick looked away from her and out the passenger window. “The McFerrins will need to go through classes and have their home inspected. I’ll try to push things through as fast as I can, but the process takes time. You’ll be staying with a very nice family in the meantime.”

Nick noticed a dark cloud of smoke long before they reached his neighborhood, but it wasn’t unusual for people to burn dead trees and brush during the winter. As they got closer, he sat up higher in his seat. Two fire trucks were parked in front of what remained of his house. The roof was smoldering, and several rafters had collapsed.

“Did you leave something on before you left?” the social worker asked. Nick shook his head, but she sighed as she got out of the car. “Wait here.”

She approached one of the firefighters, who gestured at the house and shook his head. Anything the fire hadn’t damaged was most likely soaked. Nick opened his door and coughed as smoke hit his lungs.

“You both need to go,” the firefighter said. Nick hurried back to his seat and shut the door. Instead of being angry like he’d expected, the social worker drove them to a store and helped him pick out some clothes and a toothbrush. At the checkout, she paid for everything with no mention of whether it was her personal money or not.

“Thank you,” Nick told her. She forced a smile, but her eyes were sad. Nick wondered if this would be the reaction of every adult he met for the rest of his life.

His father’s funeral and his time with his first foster family—the Wilsons—passed quickly. By the time Nick moved in with the McFerrins, they had converted their spare bedroom with extra bedding and toys from Josh’s bedroom. The two boys would be across the hall from each other.

“Dad has to travel sometimes with his job, but Mom works from here,” Josh explained as he gave Nick a tour of the rest of the farmhouse. It was old, but the McFerrins had modernized most of the interior. They sat down on a sectional in the living room. “I’m sorry about your dad—and your house.”

The front door opened, and Mr. McFerrin walked in carrying a cardboard box.

“This was in the back of your father’s truck,” he said to Nick. He opened it, revealing a pile of servos and metal plates. “It looks like a model kit, but it’s pretty heavy for a toy. I can put it in your room if you don’t want it right now.”

Nick nodded. He’d seen his father sketch and build incredible things for his work, but in that moment he didn’t want the reminder. Mr. McFerrin lifted the box and took it upstairs.

IBI Field Office * Chicago * Thirty-Four Years Later

“How’s your family holding up?” Agent Nina Johnson placed her right palm on a scanner, unlocking the office door. “I wish you could help us in the field, but a good defense attorney would rip us apart if they found out you’re Debra’s brother.”

“I don’t want to cause you any problems,” Agent Clint Rossetti said and followed her inside. The building’s interior smelled like bread from the sub shop next door, and it was more noticeable after being gone for several months. “Deb seems to be handling it all right, but she’s worried about Josh. Nick was practically his adopted brother when they were kids.”

“I’m sorry,” Nina replied. “We’re doing everything we can, but you know what it’s like here. I may be able to pull in help from Indianapolis and Cincinnati, but I can’t guarantee for how long.”

Clint nodded and sat down at his old desk. Nina had granted him full access to the case file via her account, and he didn’t want to waste her time. He bypassed most of the autopsy photos, but something in one of them caught his attention.

“What are these fragments?” he asked. Nina walked behind him and looked over his shoulder. “They look like shrapnel, but everything I read said it was a single shot.”

“They’re medical implants,” she replied. Clint’s eyebrows rose, given the number of them. “I spoke to William Abbot at AMI about them. Nick Mathis was mapping the long-term progression of his disease so the data could be used to help other patients. The coroner found nanotech in his blood and brain tissue, too—same function, according to Abbot.”

“I bet transport security loved him,” Clint replied. “Where’s all that data being stored now that Nick’s gone?”

“Abbot wouldn’t tell me. Unless it was relevant to Mathis’s death, we wouldn’t have legal access to it, anyway.”

Clint was about to reply when his phone beeped. He read the message and then stood. “It’s Josh. Sorry, I have to go to Raleigh. Thanks for allowing me to look over the file. If you ever need anything on another case, call me.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me,” he said. Nina crossed her arms. “According to Josh, Nick Mathis cloned himself.”

Ectotech Labs * Outside Raleigh, North Carolina

“One moment I’m at AMI in Chicago and the next I’m waking up in an automated lab in Charleston.” Nick sat on a barstool and leaned to pet Dakota. The dog rolled to show his belly as if nothing was wrong. “I know it sounds insane, but I didn’t set this up.”

“Maybe Nick created you as some sort of clone backup,” Josh replied. Nick frowned. “He died over a month ago. How long have you been awake—active?”

“A couple of days, I think.” Nick shook his head. “I remember everything, Josh—growing up here, you, your mom and dad, my dad…”

“I believe you,” Josh said, but he held his hands out in front of him. “We’ll wait here for Clint and get this sorted out, okay?”

“Are you afraid of me?” Nick pointed toward Josh and Debra’s house across the road. “If I left and tried to walk through your front door right now, what would happen?”

“If I didn’t stop you first, Debra would kill you to protect the kids,” Josh replied. Nick cringed. “You’re not the first clone we’ve encountered, and their behavior can be unpredictable. If any ounce of Nick’s consciousness is in you, you need to trust me. I don’t want this to end badly for any of us.”

Nick nodded and looked down at the floor.

“I didn’t want to bring all of this on you, but I didn’t know who else I could trust,” he said. “You’re still the closest people I have to a family.”

“Don’t talk like that right now.” Josh looked away from him and started pacing. “I want to believe it’s you, Nick, but we have no way of knowing. Clint worked with two clones for over five years—sleeper agents who had infiltrated the IBI. One of them turned on the rest of the team, and the other tried to protect them.”

“Seems like they still had some choice in the matter,” Nick replied. “Regardless of what happens after your brother-in-law gets here, I can’t pick up where my life left off. At best, the IBI will send me into some kind of protection program. At worst, I’ll be treated as a potential threat—and I have no solid answers on how this happened. Do you think they will believe that, considering my best friend doesn’t?”

Josh started to reply, but his headset buzzed. He didn’t answer, and the headset announced the caller’s name. “It’s William Abbot. He keeps calling about the stock you willed to us.”

“I told Abbot to watch out for vultures, not to become one,” Nick said in a disappointed tone. Josh removed the headset and placed it on his desk. It continued to buzz. “I’d answer it for you, but I’d probably give him a heart attack. I guess I haven’t been a good judge of character lately—present company excluded, I hope.”

“Even if you’re not Nick, you’re still a sentient being—and Clint and his team won’t torture or dissect you for information.” Josh’s headset beeped a voicemail notification, and he decided to check it. “Abbot is at O’Hare. His flight is leaving in a few minutes, and he plans to come here after he lands.”

McFerrin Residence * February 5th, 2084

Nick couldn’t sleep. Despite how kind the McFerrins had been to him, each anniversary of his father’s death made him want to stay in bed until the day was over. This time it was on a Saturday, so he didn’t have to force himself to get ready for school.

Someone knocked on his door.

“Nick, I’m making breakfast if you want to get up,” Mrs. McFerrin said. From her tone, she seemed aware of the day and didn’t try to open the door. “I’m caught up on work, and I was thinking I could take you and Josh to the movies—maybe stop for pizza later.”

She was trying, and Nick knew it. Still, he didn’t answer. The floorboards creaked as she walked away and down the stairs.

“Nick?” It was Josh this time. “Get up. I want to show you something.”

“Not today,” Nick replied, but there were no sounds of Josh leaving. “What is it?”

“I’m not telling you, Nick. I have to show you.”

Nick sighed, but he got dressed and then opened his door. Josh grinned at him, and it was a rare instance where Nick felt annoyance towards him. Maybe that was part of being like brothers, too.

“What is it?” Nick repeated.

Josh led him to his room, and Nick’s eyes widened. In the middle of the floor was a spider-like robot the size of an adult’s hand. Josh handed him a tablet.

“Dad believes it’s a concept model—showed me how to put one together to surprise you,” Josh said. “There are more parts in the box if you want to make more. You can even program and control them. Did your father work for NASA or something?”

“I thought he was a doctor.” Nick walked around the robot, and it turned so that its cameras always faced him—even when he passed the tablet back to Josh. He jumped forward, and the robot jumped back. Nick found himself laughing. “Weird. I remember seeing Dad draw one of these, but I didn’t know they were real.”

“Boys, food is ready!”

Nick’s stomach growled at the smell of bacon and omelets. Josh laid the tablet and the model on his bed, but they heard a crash before they reached the stairs. The model had crawled off the edge and was in scattered pieces across the floor.

“We’ll get it later,” Josh said, and he didn’t seem upset. “It will make it easier to show you.”

O’Hare International Airport *Chicago * Twenty-Nine Years Later

“Is this seat taken?” Agent Clint Rossetti asked. A brown-haired man in a business suit shook his head. “Sorry to crowd you. I hate booking last-minute.”

“Seems like all I do lately,” the man replied. “Hey, do I know you?”

Clint shrugged as he put his briefcase in the overhead compartment. “I live in Arizona now, but I grew up about thirty minutes from here. What high school did you go to?”

“It was in New York.” The man shook his head and then glanced out his window. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

“No problem.” Clint realized he knew the man from Nick’s funeral but wasn’t certain of his name. He considered changing seats, but his other options were worse—putting him next to a woman with overpowering perfume or a hairy-armed man who seemed possessive of the joint armrest. He could later claim IBI strategy if he learned anything, but this was more about surviving the next two hours. “I’m Clint.”

“William Abbot.” The man opened his tablet and rested it on his tray table. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I need to catch up on work on the way. My business partner was murdered a month ago, so I’m handling what used to be both of our positions. It’s been a rough transition, to say the least.”

Clint nodded and started to say something, but he noticed Hairy Man scratching his ribs a few rows ahead of them. He could smell Perfume Bather behind them, and some poor soul was already coughing from being in closer proximity.

“I’ll be right back.” Clint stood and took a deep breath, exhaling once he was inside the restroom. He logged in to the plane’s wireless network to check if Josh or Debra had tried to reach him. Instead, he found a message from Nina Johnson to call her once he landed. He tried her number.

“That was fast,” Nina said. “Are you already in Raleigh?”

“Not yet,” Clint said. “I’m still on the plane. William Abbot and I are seat buddies, but I don’t believe he recognized me. What did you need to tell me?”

“One of my team members found something. We’ve assumed the shot came from the parking garage across the street from AMI’s headquarters—the angle and trajectory match. The security cameras appeared to have nothing, but everyone who viewed them watched the videos in real time—assuming any hit man would be human. Take a look at this, but watch it at ten times the normal speed.”

She sent a file, and Clint opened it. He found the speed setting and watched as something bobbed up and down across the parking garage’s ceiling. It reminded him of a giant spider, and he shuddered as the video repeated.

“Some sort of robot—rover?” Clint asked. He tried to zoom in, but the rover was in the shadows and blended with the surrounding steel and concrete. “Someone programmed this thing, rigged a gun to it, and just waited? How could they have known where Nick would be at any given time? How could it know?”

“If his medical implants were sending out a signal, they could have been tracked,” Nina replied. “Be careful, Clint. We haven’t connected this to Abbot, but he has the technical background. We’re looking at employees in AMI’s robotics division, too—anyone who could have benefited from Nick being out of the way.”

Someone knocked on the door and jiggled the handle.

“Is anyone in there?” a man asked. “Don’t mean to rush you, but this is urgent.”

“I have to go, Nina,” Clint said. “Thanks.”

As Clint returned to his seat, Abbot handed him a tablet. He had found Clint’s IBI profile.

“Would you like to split a cab, Agent Rossetti?”

Ectotech Labs * Outside Raleigh, North Carolina

“Once Debra leaves with the kids, we’ll move to the house,” Josh said. He pulled a curtain back and raised the blind. The sun was setting. “You can stay in the spare bedroom until Abbot is gone. If Clint gets here first, it would probably be safer for you to go with him.”

“Safer for me or you?” Nick asked, but he grinned at Josh’s reaction. “It’s like we’re kids again—playing spies or hide-and-seek. How are your mom and dad? I heard Jack took up golf?”

“Mom sometimes goes with him for the entertainment value,” Josh said but hesitated. “We can’t tell them about you. I think it would wreck them—Mom, especially.”

Nick sighed and picked up a small holographic display from Josh’s desk. It was playing short video clips from the previous Christmas, which Nick had missed spending with them due to a blizzard.

“I feel like a ghost, Josh. I was excited about being alive and seeing all of you again, but right now I’m just as scared as you are about what I am and how this happened.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Josh replied. “Did you take a look around the lab before you left it?”

“It wasn’t huge, but I was disoriented at the time—grabbed the clothes I’m wearing out of a locker and got out of there as fast as I could. I think I could lead the IBI back to the building, though.”

Debra’s vehicle pulled out of the driveway and went right towards the city. Nick reached for the lab’s front door, but Dakota jumped and knocked him off-balance. A bullet struck the door at Nick’s head-level and lodged into a support post, narrowly missing him and the dog. “What the—”

“Get behind the table!” Josh shouted. It had some metal plating at its base but was better than nothing. Josh kept a small pistol in his desk and ammo in a locked cabinet, but he doubted a sniper would get within range for them to be effective. He still grabbed both. “Does anybody else know you’re here?”

“Just your family and Clint. I didn’t broadcast it or anything.”

Josh loaded the gun and then grabbed his tablet. He ran a scan of the room that found that something in Nick’s body was sending out a digital signal. He targeted the program to the location and ran the scan again. “Actually, I think you did. You have a huge implant in your head.”

“What?” Nick asked in confusion. Dakota licked his face, and he sputtered and wiped his mouth. “Can you get it out?”

“I don’t believe it would be operable. I might be able to shut it down, though. Give me a minute.”

“Don’t have anything pending on my schedule,” Nick replied. “Can your tablet scan the surrounding area, too—maybe pick up who’s here?”

“I can try. The implant looks like older tech—older than me, anyway.”

“Got anything?” Nick asked after a minute.

“Just got your implant’s signal shut off,” Josh replied. “The bad news is that something is moving on the roof of my house.”

Raleigh-Durham International Airport

“Whatever that thing is, we didn’t make it,” William Abbot said as he watched the surveillance video from AMI’s parking garage. He handed Clint’s phone back as a taxi stopped for them. “The closest I’ve ever seen to it are the A-676 spider rovers—self-contained, solar powered, very slow moving. NASA replaced them with much smaller models that require less power, but there are a few still operational on the Moon and Mars.”

“Do you think someone could have stolen or rebuilt one—maybe even a prototype?” Clint asked. Abbot shrugged and put his suitcases in the taxi’s trunk. Clint added his briefcase. “Do you have any employees who may have been connected to the A-676 project?”

“Not unless they were children at the time,” Abbot said, but his expression sobered as they got into the backseat of the cab. “Nick’s father consulted for NASA at one point. Nick never mentioned it to me, but I read it in the biography. Maybe there’s a connection through him.”

“Where to?” the driver asked. Clint gave her the street address. “Ectotech—busy place lately. Are you buying one of their suits?”

“Potential investor,” Abbot said. Clint gave him a skeptical look. “The moment Josh and Debra have Nick’s stock, dozens of other people will be calling every other minute. I’m trying to do the right thing and keep AMI intact as best as I can.”

Clint’s phone rang, and he answered. “We’re about fifteen minutes away. William Abbot is with me in the taxi.”

“Something is shooting at us.” Josh was loud enough for both Abbot and the taxi driver to hear. The driver slowed the car and pulled over. “It’s on the roof of my house.”

“Does it look like this?” Clint asked, and he sent a copy of the video. “Watch it in high speed. This is what killed Nick. It’s some sort of—”

“It’s an A-676,” Josh interrupted. “Nick and I had smaller models when we were kids. The impound company gave them to Dad from Dr. Mathis’s truck.”

He stopped talking. Clint and Abbot exchanged glances.

“Josh, are you still there?” Clint asked.

“I think I know how to disable it, but stay away until I do. I’ll call you back and let you know if it worked or not.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Clint said, but Josh didn’t respond. “If you’re still there, I’m calling for backup.”

Ectotech Labs * Outside Raleigh, North Carolina

“Stay here.” Josh stood and walked toward the door. “Its programming shouldn’t be any different from the small-scale model we had. If I put it into recharge mode, it won’t be able to move or target anything.”

“Why don’t you just wait until Clint gets here?” Nick asked. Josh opened the door and sidestepped out of the way. Nothing happened. “If this thing can’t track my implant, it could switch to some other means—movement, body heat, my last known location—”

“We have neighbors with small children, and I don’t want to risk it leaving the area,” Josh replied. Dakota bolted out the door, and Josh whistled for him to come back. They heard a shot, and the dog whimpered and fell. “No, no, no, no…”

Without thinking, Josh started to run out the door. Nick grabbed him by his t-shirt and jerked him back inside. Out of reflex, Josh punched him but then stopped. Nick’s lip was bleeding red, not silver like the other clones Josh had seen. Nick took a step back.

“Turn my implant back on first.” He grabbed Josh’s tablet off the floor and handed it to him. “I’ll keep it distracted for as long as I can. You go help Dakota and tell Clint what’s happening. Don’t argue.”

Josh nodded and handed Nick his headset. “The moment we have it disabled, I’ll call you.”

Nick nodded. “Be careful, Josh. You have Debra and the kids. I—”

“You have a brother,” Josh replied. “Thank you. I’ll hurry.”

Josh reactivated the implant’s signal, and Nick bolted out the back door. Josh tried to look for movement outside, but he wasn’t at a good angle.

Dakota was in the grass about ten yards away, still breathing but lying on his side. Josh ran, scooped him up, and then brought him back inside the lab. Dakota relaxed after a tranquilizer injection and allowed Josh to keep pressure on the entry and exit wounds. Josh used his tablet to call Clint.

“This thing is faster than the one in the video you sent me, and it just shot Dakota,” Josh said. He opened a panel to access the rover, but both it and Nick were out of range. “How far out is your backup? I need a ride.”

“Less than five minutes,” Clint replied. “I left William Abbot with the cab, but the Raleigh team just picked me up. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Nick’s clone ran, but he’s trying to help us. He has an implant in his brain, and the A-676 is tracking it.”

“It’s trying to kill him?” Clint asked. “Hey—I may have to call you back. We’ve stopped.”

Josh listened to the background noises, able to make out Clint’s voice but no one else’s. He’d gotten Dakota’s bleeding under control. It didn’t look as if the bullet had penetrated any vital organs, but he would need stitches soon.

“I wish I could say it was done with more finesse, but the spider rover is down,” Clint said. He turned on his video feed so Josh could see it. The bot was in pieces, but three of its legs were intact and attempting to move. “The driver ahead of us saw it in the middle of the road and ran over it.”

“Wait—it was just stopped in the road—doing nothing?” Josh asked. He opened another line and tried calling his headset. It rang, but the clone didn’t answer. The video on Clint’s feed blurred, and several agents began talking at once. “It killed the clone, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Clint switched off the video feed. “One of the Raleigh guys just found him. I’m so sorry, Josh, but he’s gone.”

Outside Raleigh, North Carolina * March 2114

“He was this tiny little boy—hair sticking up, pajamas above his ankles and wrists like he’d just had a growth spurt,” Mrs. McFerrin said as she and Josh walked to what was now Nick’s second grave. “I wanted to hold him and tell him everything would be okay, but I knew that was something I couldn’t promise. David Mathis had died on the way to the hospital, and I was standing in a house with a century’s worth of cloning research and a child who didn’t understand. I had to make a choice—your father and I both did.”

“You knew what Dr. Mathis had done—that Nick was some sort of accidental clone—and you covered it up?” Josh asked in disbelief. “Mom—”

“All your father and I could think about was, what if it was you?” she replied. “As parents, would we have wanted you treated like some test subject instead of a human being? Nick was a child with as much potential as anyone, and he deserved a chance. I wish we had known enough to warn him—protect him—but I’ll never regret having him in our lives. Do you?”

“No—of course not,” Josh replied, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Every time Dakota goes to the door, I keep expecting Nick to show up again. Clint told us the IBI believes Dr. Mathis designed the rovers to kill him once his disease progressed too far—that he may have made a dozen successful jumps between clone bodies over the past century. Now his technology is breaking down, and the rovers targeted Nick just because he and Dr. Mathis shared the same DNA. All the automated labs creating the clone bodies could be in trouble, too.”

“You’re saying Nick may never come back?” Mrs. McFerrin asked.

“I’m saying we may never know,” Josh replied. “I don’t even know if turning off his implant for a few minutes affected anything.”

Mrs. McFerrin crouched down, moving the grass away from a single blue wildflower. “Don’t give up on him yet.”

Downtown Chicago

“Just a minute,” Bianca Reynolds said. She checked the door viewer, but her blind date was holding a hardcover of her book about Nick Mathis in front of his face. She noticed roses in his other hand as he reached and rang the doorbell several times again. “Hey, I realize you’re just trying to be funny, but don’t use that book to do it. I feel bad enough that—”

She opened the door. Nick lowered the book and smiled at her.

“How would you feel about writing a volume two?” he asked.