Authors: David Berardelli
A strange sound wrenched me awake.
I sat up sharply and squinted at the darkness. Sleep clouded my eyes, and I
rubbed them.
Except for the tiny bulb flickering from the wall two feet above my bunk,
everything was as dark as a tomb. I couldn’t tell if it was night or day, or how
long I’d been sleeping. An hour? Four hours?
My surroundings revealed nothing. The minuscule aisle bulbs emitted a faint
orange hue, highlighting the cell bars. I listened but heard only the heavy silence
pressing against the bars of my cage.
A dream, no doubt
.
I lay back down and tried forming an escape plan. Given my present
predicament, all such thoughts seemed impossible. The cell door wouldn’t budge,
and I was much too big to squeeze through the bars. Since I couldn’t flush myself
down the toilet, I’d have to wait until someone released me.
The officer I’d talked with said they wanted to study me. They couldn’t
accomplish that from this cell, so they’d have to take me somewhere else—
possibly a nearby lab. That might provide access to all sorts of equipment and
give me an opportunity to cause enough confusion to effect an escape. I’d
probably have only one chance, and if it didn’t turn out, I’d be killed.
The idea of dying didn’t concern me at the moment; I cared only about
finding Reed and Fields. I’d have to figure out some way of disabling a TAB or
two in the process, but I couldn’t see any way around that. I had no idea how to
do it—or if it was even possible. But I had to try. In the meantime, my best bet
was to work on some sort of…
A toilet flushed, jarring me from my thoughts. The sound resonated up and
down the corridor, but I suspected it had come from the adjoining cell.
I sat stock-still and listened closely. It took about a minute for the tank to fill
back up, after which the heavy silence resumed. I got up and cautiously
approached the bars. The hazy darkness from the other cell revealed nothing. But
then I noticed a break in the flickering bulb above the cot. Someone had moved
in front of it, blocking its light. The quiet shuffling of footsteps made me shiver.
“Someone there?”
Silence. A shadow approached the bars. The owner’s face moved closer and
became visible.
It was the man I had talked to upstairs.
I told myself I was dreaming or hallucinating. Life and logic had literally jumped
ship, wandering off together into the sunset. My mind had obviously followed.
I refused to believe what my eyes were seeing. Yet something about this
man’s face—his eyes, perhaps, or his blank expression—made me suspicious. A
strong sensation of wrong swept through me. It was the same feeling you get
In this case, there was no familiarity when our eyes met. The picture was off.
The man I’d talked to earlier was alert. He dressed and walked smartly, oozing
authority. Proud yet economical in his movements, calm yet fired up about his
plans, he remained devoid of emotion when I tried to slam my fist into his face.
Although I hadn’t heard this man speak, somehow I knew he wasn’t the same
person. The face was similar, but there the similarity ended. The semidarkness of
the corridor clouded the overall picture, but I could still distinguish certain
details. His eyes were lackluster, his features gaunt and pale, his cheeks
unshaven. His clothes were dirty and a size too large. The shirt tail hung loose,
the pants baggy.
The hopelessness in this individual’s demeanor registered most of all. His
body trembled. The hands gripping the bars also trembled. He seemed to be using
them to hold himself up.
“You weren’t ... talking to me.” His voice was weak and raspy, and he
sounded like a much older man.
“It sure looked like you.”
“That was ... my clone.”
Of course. A clone. Should I be surprised?
Still, some things didn’t add up. The officer had spoken like a human being—
delusional but human. The TABs hardly spoke, so I hadn’t even considered
putting him in the same category.
“I didn’t realize,” I said.
“They’ve been at it ... a while,” he said, clearing his throat.
“How long for … the TABs and you?”
He coughed and cleared his throat. “It started a couple of years ago for the
TABs ... a couple of months for me.”
I realized he hadn’t spoken with anyone for a while. He was gathering his
thoughts. “When they realized the Chinese meant to do us in, their best minds got
together ... to develop a way of surviving the plague and fighting back with a
smaller but superior force. To do both, they needed to convert the data in the
human brain into programmable material ... and storing it in a chip.”
“They can store the contents of a person’s brain in a chip?”
“The pertinent data was all they really needed. Isolating and eliminating the
disposable material ... that was the most difficult part. The disposable stuff
comprises nearly ninety percent of the brain. They basically separated out the
unnecessary files. When they finished, they uploaded what was left in the chips.
But the first generation of TABs rejected the implants. Then they discovered that
Asians were somehow more receptive to cloning and that they could take the
chips without too many side effects. They also figured they could make the Asian
TABs more difficult for the Chinese to detect, so they could infiltrate certain
installations—but by then it was too late.”
“How so?”
“The vaccination program—the doping—it killed off most of the best minds
working on the project. It derailed the effort.”
“But I’ve seen dozens of functioning TABs, and they were amazing.”
“We were able to create a small group of them ... to help us get at least part of
the country back. But we also recognized it would take a massive effort to repel
the Chinese, one well beyond our present capabilities.”
He coughed again, but I could see he was feeling a little stronger. “Something
of this magnitude would require a minimum of ten thousand TABs deployed in
each state. It would take more resources and more personnel than we could
possibly marshal. So we decided to start small and see what we could do locally.
Our main objective was to search for the unaffected.
“Then I began having trouble with my equilibrium, and I occasionally dozed
off in the lab, sleeping hours at a time. Two of my colleagues also began
succumbing to blackouts. One day they stopped showing up. A week or so later
they returned, but I noticed something was very different about them.”
“Cloned?”
“It was an intelligent decision, actually. Cloning is the most efficient way of
getting things done. A clone’s DNA is made up of pre-existing data, so to speak,
but you can reprogram it, make it do exactly what you want. When we started the
project, everyone was in agreement about what should be done. Then a couple of
the members decided to induce certain changes the rest of us found
objectionable.”
“What sort of changes?”
“Experiments.”
The realization hit me. “You mean human experiments?”
He nodded. “You have to understand we were researchers, scientists, people
who ... who suddenly found an enormous supply of human subjects they could
study—subjects that were powerless to resist. Most of them were dying, anyway,
so there would be no repercussions ... and we needed not feel guilty or regret.”
“But what are you talking about? What kind of experiments?”
“First, we needed to separate the subjects into groups in various stages of the
disease: untreated, partially doped, severely doped, and unaffected—immune.
Next, we subjected each group to various tests.”
“What tests?”
“Heart rate, respiration, sensitivity to heat and cold, galvanic skin response—
all the normal, usual physiological evaluations. Then we began mental and
psychological evaluations. Basically, we were studying ways to counter the
disease effectively while looking for physical advantages to help us against the
enemy.”
“That all sounds kosher to me.”
“Yes, but the problem was we found nothing useful—nothing to help fight the
disease, and nothing to help fight the Chinese. That’s when some of my
colleagues began suggesting more … dramatic experiments.”
“Like what?”
“All sorts of horrors: water-boarding, submerging in sub-freezing water,
electroshock, asphyxiation—you name it.”
“Jesus. Why?”
He looked at the floor. “The short answer is … because we could.”
“Good God.”
“If we were going to build a superhuman race, we needed to test the normal
limits of human endurance.”
This was unbelievable. Even in a dying world, these people were making
things worse.
“The damned thing is, we learned a lot. We were able to use much of the data
to program out almost all human weaknesses in the TABs.”
“‘Almost all?’”
“Yes.”
I almost hated to ask the next question. “What didn’t you fix?”
“It had to do with one or two of the short-term memory subprograms we
installed in a trial batch.”
“‘We?’ Meaning you?”
“No, not by me; a couple of the more ambitious researchers inserted them
into the main program. I wasn’t privy to those particular programs, so I don’t
know for sure what they contained. I only know the data were taken from some
of the more aggressive subjects in the studies. They added the programming to a
new chip and installed it immediately.”
Aggressive subjects. Frightening.
I took it all in for a minute. “So you were part of all this.”
He looked at me squarely. “When the disease began affecting me, I lost track
of what was going on. Up until then, though, yes, I was part of it. I was doing my
best as a scientist to overcome the disease and help to save my country.”
“Including torturing helpless victims?”
“If we couldn’t save them, we had to save ourselves.”
Now I looked at him squarely. “You think you’ve saved anybody?”
He ignored the question. “Things changed completely when some of us came
down with the disease. It changed the direction of the research.” He sighed. “The
others took what we had learned about cloning and reprogramming, and they
cloned and reprogrammed … us. Before we knew what was happening, our jobs
were being done by our replicants, and they placed us in these cells ... just in case
our clones malfunctioned.”
“You mean…?”
“They’ve kept us alive in case they need to replicate us … again.” He shook
his head and turned away from me.
“Wait a minute. This doesn’t make sense. Your clone isn’t a scientist; he’s in
command of this place.”
He turned back to me, looking puzzled. “Don’t you understand?”
“I guess not.”
“I was in charge.”
My mind strained to grasp what I had just heard. This feeble man once
commanded the obviously secret complex that now held me. He and his cronies
had somehow developed the ability to replace infected humans with functioning
doubles, and apparently they didn’t have to wait forty or fifty years for Nature to
run its course.
“Then who are you?” I asked.
“My name is Nathan Forbes, and I was a colonel in an Army special
command.”
“You were a colonel and a scientist?”
“Yes.”
“And you ran this facility?”
“Four of them, actually; one in California, one in Florida, one in Minnesota,
and this one.”
“But now your clone has taken over?”
“Yes, except that we lost contact with the other three installations. As far as
we know, we’re the only one left.”
“And the TABs … they’re on the loose only from here?”
“That I don’t know. Before I succumbed, we were all communicating and
sharing data. But we haven’t heard from our sister facilities for some time.”
“So this place could be all that’s left?”
“It would seem so.”
Unbelievable.
“I’ve got a question, Colonel.”
“Yes, Mister…?”
“Moss.”
“What’s your question?”
“Why don’t the TABs talk? Your clone speaks very well, but the TABs just
bark orders.”
“It wasn’t our original plan. We had been trying to create a superior grade of
soldier, one that could think independently and take the initiative. Apparently, my
replacement Forbes decided that only the administrative clones should be able to
think rationally and communicate well. He must have regarded the TABs as
strictly military instruments, capable only of following orders.”
This was incredible. The problem I faced was suddenly much bigger than my
escaping and finding Fields and Reed. I had to do something about it—I had to
find some way of destroying the TABs.
“Do the TABs have a kill switch? A power-down button?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “As I recall, their chips are all connected
wirelessly to the main server. If you can find it, you might be able to switch them
off—unless, of course, my clone has installed a defense program to switch the
programming to an alternate source in the event of sabotage.”
“Is it possible they’ve done that?”
He coughed wetly. “I honestly don’t know if they’ve had enough time.”
“Then I’ve got to find that server.”
“We’ve got more than a hundred and fifty processing units up there.”
“What should I be looking for?”
He shook his head. “I used to know.”
“Please, try to remember.” I hated pressuring him. He was obviously winding
down, having a difficult time trying to concentrate. But I had to find out.
Otherwise, we didn’t stand a chance.
He lowered his head and pressed his skull against the bars. “I seem to recall
the term ‘XL’ … ‘XL7000’ or something like that. We took delivery of a batch of
processors less than six months ago. I think one of them is loaded with the
program.”
“How many of the new ones are there?”
“Twenty or so.”
“Are they all up and running?”
“As far as I know.”
“What’s the program called?”
He went silent again, searching his fading memory. “Look for ‘TAB,’ or
‘TB,’ or ‘T1’—anything starting with a T is worth checking.”
“They couldn’t come up with anything more complicated or misleading in the
event of a hostile takeover?”
He sighed deeply. “No one was expected to gain access to the lab. Even now,
you’ll have to get through the TABs to do it. If you can hack into the program,
you can shut them down.”
“What if I can’t?”
“I’m afraid it’s your only chance.”
By now, fear had taken over his pale features. He appeared older than he did
even minutes earlier. I could tell he was going fast.
“My mind ... sometimes ... after a few minutes of normal thinking, it ...
doesn’t work like it ... like it used to.”
“I understand.” I felt bad for the man and especially bad that I couldn’t help
him.
“What ... were we talking about?” He looked like he’d just awakened from a
nap.
“Powering down the TABs. Is there something I need to know about them? A
weakness, perhaps?”
“Remember, a clone is a dupe ... of the original. These TABs ... they’re duped
from us.”
“Meaning?”
“Their brains have absorbed our knowledge—and our weaknesses. They
chose one of us. He was the prototypes.”
“And he was Asian.”
“Yes. All the latest TABs are his clones.”
“Why?”
“Because they thought his characteristics would work the best.”
“Like what?”
“He was extremely logical—rigidly so. No room for creative thinking. So
they used that ability and programmed his chip to favor the left side of the brain.
Once given orders they would follow them to the letter.”
I sighed. “Sounds hopeless.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He managed a weak smile. “They overlooked the man’s weaknesses.”
“Such as?”
“For one thing, he’s claustrophobic. He’s also afraid of heights. And he has
quite a fear of the dark.”
My thoughts raced. I couldn’t waste time wondering about the significance of
that statement. I’d try to figure it out later. Meanwhile, I had to get him to tell me
as much as possible before he went blank. “Why am I here?”
“Are you ... military?”
“Twenty years ago.”
“That’s why.”
“Why?”
He didn’t reply at first. His head had lowered again. He appeared to have
fallen asleep.
“Colonel?” I struggled to come up with some way of bringing him back. A
touch of the past, perhaps? Something he’d be comfortable with? “Where are you
from, Colonel? Where did you grow up?”
He raised his head. For the first time, pride showed among his gaunt features.
“I was born right here in Somerset County. My family farm ... isn’t more than a
few miles from here. I left to go...”
He started to slip away.
“Go on, Colonel. You’re on a roll.” My pulse raced. I couldn’t let him stop,
couldn’t let him give up.
“What you need to do,” he said, struggling with the unconsciousness that was
enveloping him. “Play ball with them. Give them ... what they want. Otherwise,
they’ll bring you back here and you’ll stay here ... until you’re dead.”
“What do they want?”
“You’re military ... and … you’re ... not affected. They ... want to study you ...
to clone you. They want your tactical experience.”
“I came here with two others. They’re not affected, either. One’s a nurse, the
other a former teacher.”
“They’ll definitely want the nurse ... to aid in the experiments.”
“And the teacher?”
He shrugged. “Who knows?”
“Any idea where they could be holding my friends?”
He was nearly gone. “Experimentation wing ... directly above us … two
floors … across the … hall from … computer room. The TABs ... they’ll bring
van ... specimens ... need … nurse.”
“The teacher, Colonel…”
“If … don’t want for cloning … use … for … ex … peri … ments.”
He went silent. I would learn no more. But I decided to heed his warning and
do what he’d suggested. I just had to figure out the best way of doing it without
alerting my captors. If he’d told me the truth, I didn’t have many options left.
And very little time.