Duplicates by Andrew Neiderman

Author:Andrew Neiderman
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626817845
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2015-05-21T00:00:00+00:00

“I’m not sure this idea about restarting Heller is a good idea,” Nelson Congemi said as he and Lila Randolph rounded the corner at the end of the corridor. “It might just be that there is some moral fiber, some element we can’t touch.”

“Really, Nelson, that’s not a very scientific statement from a renowned scientist. You’re not getting religious on me all of a sudden, are you?” she teased.

“No, it’s just that…he could go brain dead and…”

“What’s the difference in Heller’s case?” Lila Randolph said dryly. “It’s a loss anyway. We might as well take advantage of what’s available and see what we can rescue.”

“I don’t like it,” Congemi repeated as they entered Heller’s room. He lay unconscious, electrodes attached to his head. Congemi went to the EEG printout and watched as the styluses jerked out their imprint on the rolling paper. He ripped off a sheet and studied it.

“Look at this,” he said. Dr. Randolph gazed at the paper.

“Major activity in the uncinate region.”

“Psychomotor epilepsy,” she said quickly.

“I don’t like this, Lila. Not one bit. We’d better tell Fryman so he at least waits before taking another one of our subjects.”

“We’ll see,” Lila Randolph said and went to Heller’s bedside. She stared at him as she continued. “We’ve done more than two dozen transfers over two years and tailored eight of them. Nothing like this happened to the others.”

“Only the ones who were made into assassins. Coincidence?”

“Maybe.”

“Lila, he’s perverting our work.”

She spun on him.

“It’s a small price to pay, Nelson.” Her eyes narrowed. “We’re on the verge of the Nobel Prize. You want to panic and give up?”

He stared. It was surely possible—the Nobel Prize.

“Well, as long as we get Fryman to hold off on using another until we can correct the problem…”

“I told you, let me handle Fryman. Did you see to the corpse for Heller’s coffin?”

Congemi nodded.

“Good. Make sure it’s a closed coffin. We’ll have to decide what next to do with the woman and children.”

“Just leave them be,” Congemi suggested. “Move on.”

“Maybe. In the meantime, I’d better be sure the Andersons don’t recall the incident.”

“We’re manipulating them like puppets,” Congemi remarked.

“We do what has to be done to make this all work,” Lila Randolph replied and then looked at her watch. “The Boxletters should be completed.” She looked up, that wry smile on her face. “Or should I say Charles Corbin and Elaine and Melissa Stratton.”

“You’re getting to feel a little bit like God, aren’t you, Lila?”

“Let’s just say I can appreciate the power. I often wonder,” she added, looking back at Heller, “if God does.”

“Just be careful we don’t find out too late,” Congemi warned.

It was the first time in a long time that something he said brought a real smile and substantial laughter to Lila Randolph’s lips.

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