Blood Ties

  Mel turned round. ‘Good.’ She smiled at me. ‘After all it’d be a shame to lose that six-pack.’

  ‘Ha ha,’ I said. ‘Very funny.’

  I followed her down the corridor to the workout room. The usual assortment of beefy security guards and tired-looking scientists were gathered, waiting for Mel. Or maybe it was the scientists who were the beefy ones and the guards who looked tired. How would I know? How could I know anything for sure any more?

  We started the warm-up and I let my body go through the moves it knew so well by now. It was good to have something mindless to focus on. My head was too full of angry thoughts. Against Mum. Against Elijah. Against his – our – past.

  As Mel organised us into pairs, most people took a swig of water. I watched my partner: male, slim – a scientist, I guessed – glugging at his bottle. The sight of the clear liquid seemed to clear my own head.

  Just a few weeks ago I was a child, imagining my father was a brave soldier who had died for his country. Now I knew the truth. My fathers – both Elijah and my genetic father – were bullies and killers. They were my past. They were my present. How could they be anything other than my future?

  I hated them both.

  We started on the slow-motion attacking and blocking moves. I stared at my partner. He was a scientist. I was sure of it. He had thin arms and greying hair and a slightly timid expression.

  I snarled at him, letting all the hate inside me well up. Then I edged closer, punching within a few centimetres of his face.

  ‘Ready to speed up?’ Mel’s voice sounded far away.

  Hate was pumping through my veins. I moved faster. Closer to the man in front of me.

  Hadn’t Elijah said he was fifteen when he found out that his father was a cold-blooded murderer? How ironic that I should be the same age. No. I gritted my teeth. That was no accident. It was part of Elijah’s plan. Part of his stupid experiment to see how alike we were.

  I moved even closer, slashing and jabbing and kicking for all I was worth. All I could hear now was the blood pounding in my head.

  Hate was in my genes. It was my genes. It was who I was.

  ‘Theo.’ A hand gripped my arm. ‘Theo. Stop.’

  I was so flooded with adrenalin I couldn’t focus properly. Then the room rushed back into view. I was panting, completely out of breath, my fist less than a centimetre away from my partner’s face. He was backed completely against the wall, his eyes staring, terrified, into mine.

  ‘Stop.’ Mel’s voice was sharp. Insistent.

  It was her hand on my arm. Her strength stopping me from punching the man in front of me.

  ‘This isn’t real, Theo,’ Mel whispered urgently. ‘This man hasn’t hurt you. Let it go.’

  Suddenly all the fight went out of me. My whole body released.

  ‘Nothing’s real.’ I turned on her. ‘Nothing’s real now.’

  I tore away and strode out of the exercise room, only barely aware of the hushed voices and pale faces behind me.

  As I marched down the corridor I thought of Mum. I wondered how much of Elijah’s past she had known. How she could have agreed to him cloning himself. It was sick. He was sick.

  I was sick.

  ‘Theo!’ Mel was calling out. I could hear her footsteps behind me. I broke into a run. I didn’t know what I was doing or where I was going. I only knew that I didn’t want to speak to her. Didn’t want to speak to anyone. Didn’t want to go back to my room and be alone with my thoughts.

  I dived left and right and right and left. As I ran I tore off my cap and chucked it down a corridor going in the opposite direction. I hoped this would throw Mel off my tracks. After a few minutes I stopped and leaned against the wall, panting. I looked back the way I’d come. No sign of Mel.

  I knew I should feel guilty. She would be worried about me. She might even get into trouble again if Elijah discovered I’d run away. It struck me that if Elijah knew how much attention I’d drawn to myself in that combat class today, I would never be allowed out of my room again.

  Who cared?

  Screw Mel.

  Screw Elijah.

  Screw everybody.

  I looked round me. I wasn’t far from Elijah’s private rooms. I had no idea if he was there or not. I didn’t care. I was going to go in there and find out about the Hermes Project. Find out why I was here. Maybe even find a way out of the compound. Well, why not? I’d escaped from school, hadn’t I?

  I strode towards Elijah’s rooms.

  I’m Theo Glassman.

  I need no one.

  It was liberating. I didn’t care about anyone any more. I didn’t even care what happened to me. I reached Elijah’s door. I didn’t look round to see if anyone was watching. I stood in front of the iris-recognition pad and let the bar of light stroke my face.

  The door opened.

  The room was empty.

  I headed straight for the desk and switched on the computer. The screen took a couple of seconds to flash into view. I dragged the mouse so the cursor was over the Hermes Project file. Clicked.

  Password required

  I stared at the box on the screen.

  Crap. What would Elijah choose as a password? I tried his name. No. I tried mine and Rachel’s – both our real and code names. I tried Mel.

  Nothing.

  I looked round the room, my frustration building. Everything was as it had been before. Just the two closed doors leading to the bedroom and bathroom, the sofas and TV and the holographic wall panel, its leafy trees swaying in imaginary sunshine.

  I thumped my fist against the desk.

  Bastard. I gripped the computer with both hands. Lifted it off the desk. If I couldn’t see inside it I was going to smash it to pieces. Who cared about the consequences. If Elijah was going to hurt me, let him.

  Let him freaking well try.

  I raised the computer higher, pulling against its wires, tugging it towards the edge of the desk.

  ‘What are you doing?’ A child’s voice.

  I twisted round, almost dropping the computer in shock.

  A little boy – maybe five or six years old – was standing just a metre away from me, in front of the holographic wall panel.

  ‘Who are you?’ For a second I was so freaked out I wondered if I was imagining him.

  The little boy wrinkled his nose. ‘I’m Daniel,’ he said.

  I stared at his face. It was even-featured – little snubby nose, olive skin, short dark hair, big, brown eyes. My heart skipped a beat. I knew this face.

  I had been this face.

  I set the computer back down on the desk.

  ‘How did you get in here?’ I said.

  ‘Through the magic wall.’

  ‘What?’ Okay, now I was in serious danger of losing it completely. Either another clone of Elijah was standing in front of me, actually talking about magic walls, or else I had flipped out to planet nut-job proportions.

  Daniel pointed behind him to the holographic wall panel. Then he bent down and prodded at a little pad I hadn’t noticed at the base of the wall. The holographic panel slid silently open. A room was beyond it. I could just make out a low kids’ table and a few kids’ chairs set round it.

  I stared. A magic wall. Leading to a hidden room.

  Daniel stepped inside the room. He turned round and stuck his tongue out at me. Then he pressed something I couldn’t see on the wall beside his head. The holographic panel started closing in front of him.

  No. ‘Wait! Stop!’ I walked towards him.

  Daniel grinned.

  The holographic panel slid shut in my face.

  56

  Rachel

  Lewis held out his hand, the fingers together, the palm flat and facing down. He glanced round. Franks was in the plane toilet. Simpson was asleep across the aisle.

  ‘Later, when I do this –’ he dipped his hand, pointing the fingers to the floor of the plane ‘– get down. As low as you can. Okay?’

  I nodded. ‘Don?
??t worry,’ I whispered. ‘I know the signals.’

  Lewis sat back, an anxious frown on his face.

  ‘Hey,’ I smiled. ‘Don’t forget this was my idea.’

  Lewis didn’t look reassured. I knew he felt guilty about taking me into so much danger. The thought of what we were about to do – storm into Elijah’s heavily guarded compound, find Theo and Mel and escape with them – made my stomach churn.

  I turned away and looked out of the window. The seat-belt signs had just come on and we were close to Washington D.C. now. The plane had taken off at about ten o’clock this morning, Sunday, but because of the five-hour time difference it was still, now, only midday, seven hours later.

  The greens and browns of the fields below were giving way to rows of cream and white houses with brown roofs. From way up in the sky they looked like toy houses. It was hard to imagine real people living in them.

  The sun glinted off the river flowing wide beneath us. I stared at the water, going over the plan in my head. If we got through the two sets of steel security doors, to the front of the building, and if Lewis managed to convince the guards to let us into the compound itself, then the attack would begin.

  How it would work made no sense to me. There were only four of us. Me, Lewis, Simpson and Franks. How did RAGE think it was going to overpower Elijah’s entire complex with just three men? And me. Not that I would be a part of it. Before either side could shoot me, I had to somehow make my way to Mel’s room. Lewis had explained exactly where it was and what the number entry code was. He had told me to wait there for him. It sounded impossible.

  Lewis left his seat and crossed over to where Simpson had just woken up from his doze.

  I fingered the passport in my hands. It was the real thing. Franks had taken me back to my old house to fetch it. He had to break in because the whole place was shut up. It was weird being back there. It made me really miss Mum and Dad. My bedroom was a total mess. Clothes and shoes everywhere. It took a moment before I remembered why. Was it really only a couple of weeks since I was in here last, worrying myself sick about what I was going to wear to the school disco? It seemed laughable now.

  ‘Cabin doors to manual.’ The pilot’s drawling instruction made my heart skip a beat. We were about to land.

  It was time.

  We got through Dulles Airport security with no problem, which amazed me. I mean there were questions at the desk – Lewis and I pretended to be a half-brother and -sister – and we each had to have our photograph taken and our fingerprints digitally recorded. But all that was clearly standard procedure. None of the airport officials seemed in the slightest bit suspicious of any of us.

  Lewis caught my look of surprise. ‘No criminal records,’ he explained quietly. ‘Except for some ancient assault charge on Franks.’ He lowered his head nearer mine. ‘RAGE are good at what they do. Don’t get careless.’

  I didn’t need the warning. My heart was already in my throat as we took a taxi along wide open roads towards Washington. The taxi dropped us at some huge supermarket car park. Mothers with little kids kept arriving and parking, then disappearing inside the shop. The four of us waited by the exit – standing silently in the cold, sunny air. Even Simpson seemed tense. I asked what we were waiting for, but no one answered me.

  Half an hour later I found out.

  A grey van pulled slowly into the car park. It didn’t park properly, just did a loop and pulled up where we were waiting. Simpson opened one of the back doors a crack and bundled me inside. It was dark – I could hear breathing sounds, but I couldn’t make out any faces. I felt someone – Franks maybe, or Lewis – pushing in after me. I moved forwards and stepped on someone’s toe.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said.

  ‘Quiet,’ Simpson barked behind me. A hand on my arm guided me to the side of the van. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I could see that the van was lined with men sitting on benches. They all seemed to be wearing black, with black wool masks over their faces – completely covered apart from slits for eyes.

  One of them squeezed sideways to let me sit down.

  I could feel the press of his leg against mine. I wanted to shrink away, but there was literally nowhere to shrink to. Lewis, Simpson and Franks sat on the floor of the van between the two benches, the four small bags we had between us at their feet. The door slammed shut. Some kind of infrared light came on. I looked round the van interior. Altogether there were twenty men.

  And each one held a handgun in his lap.

  57

  Theo

  ‘Daniel.’ I thumped my fists against the holographic wall panel. ‘Daniel. Let me in.’

  Silence.

  My heart raced. I had to get inside that hidden room. I had to talk to the little boy.

  I peered closely through the holographic trees. Behind the panel I could just make out another room. Low tables and little chairs. Daniel standing beside them. I thumped the panel again, so hard it shook.

  ‘Daniel,’ I shouted. ‘If you don’t let me in Elijah will be cross.’

  This seemed to do the trick.

  ‘You can let yourself in.’ He sounded sulky, but scared.

  ‘How?’

  ‘There’s a number pad. You have to put in numbers.’

  I bent down and found the pad at the base of the wall. ‘Which numbers?’ I shouted.

  ‘050414,’ he called. ‘That’s my age and my birthday. I’m five, then the four is for April because it’s the number four month in the year. Elijah told me. And my birthday’s April fourteen.’

  I pressed in the numbers. The panel opened.

  Daniel was backing away from me across the room. His eyes were big and round. I looked round quickly. There were two low kids’ tables. Four little chairs round each one. But it wasn’t any kind of kids’ room. Nothing on the walls. And a desk and filing cabinets down the left-hand wall.

  I glanced down at Daniel. Mum had a picture of me at about the same age on a shelf in our living room. My hair had maybe been a bit longer, but otherwise we looked identical. There was no doubt that he was another clone of Elijah.

  Daniel stared back at me defiantly. I suddenly realised how scared he was. Scared of me. I smiled and squatted down so I was closer to his height.

  ‘How old are you?’ I said.

  ‘I just told you,’ Daniel said. ‘I’m five. Five and four-sixths.’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘I learned fractions the other day. I’m the only one in the research group who understands them. Brad Cummins can’t even count above thirty.’

  I raised my eyebrows, wondering if Elijah’s brains had finally found their way to the surface of his DNA. Not to mention his arrogance. Although . . .

  ‘Wouldn’t that be two-thirds, not four-sixths?’ I grinned.

  Daniel made a goofy face, twisting his mouth and crossing his eyes. ‘What’s your name?’ he said.

  ‘Theo.’ I sat down on the floor. ‘I know Elijah too.’

  Daniel nodded solemnly. ‘Everyone does.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘Do you live here?’ I said.

  Daniel nodded again.

  ‘With your mum and dad?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t have a mommy or a daddy. I have Kelsey. She looks after me. We live through there. Elijah comes too, sometimes. Kelsey’s asleep.’ He pointed to a door on the opposite wall. My heart leaped. The door must lead to the rest of Elijah’s apartment. Maybe even another way out.

  Daniel made a goofy face again. ‘You won’t tell Elijah I was out here, will you? I’m not supposed to unless someone’s with me.’

  ‘Sure.’ I thought rapidly. ‘Hey, Daniel. Tell me about the research group you’re in.’

  Daniel wandered over to one of the little tables and reached across to the pot of pens that stood on top of it.

  ‘What do you have to do?’ I said.

  Daniel picked out a red felt-tip pen. ‘Different things.’ He held the pen out in front of him and squinted down its length like a gun
.

  ‘Okay.’ The holographic wall panel was still open; Elijah’s room in plain view. Jesus, he could walk in at any second. ‘What did you do last time? Were you on your own?’

  ‘No.’ Daniel pointed his pen-gun at me. ‘There were six of us. We did drawing.’

  This was hopeless.

  ‘Bang – you’re dead.’ Daniel grinned.

  I put my hands in the air and fell over sideways. ‘Ya got me.’

  Daniel appeared above my head. ‘I know what it’s called.’

  I sat up. ‘You mean your research project?’

  He nodded. ‘I saw the letters on the front. Elijah has a big book about it. I read the letters,’ he said proudly. ‘I can read better than anyone else in the research project. That’s because the project’s about me. Elijah told me.’

  My heart skipped a beat. ‘What did the letters say?’

  ‘We-ell.’ Daniel pulled away and pointed the pen-gun at me again. ‘The first one was a hairy hat man.’

  ‘What?’ I stared at him, completely bewildered.

  ‘A “ha”.’

  I scrambled over to the little table. I pulled a pen out of the pot and reached for a scrap of paper from the pile. I wrote down the letter H. ‘Did it look like that?’

  Daniel nodded.

  Yes. I wrote the rest of the word. I showed Daniel.

  ‘Is this what it said on Elijah’s book?’

  HERMES

  Daniel shrugged. He lined up the pen-gun again. ‘Maybe. Pow . I think so. Hey, I said you were dead.’

  Thump. Thump. Thump. I jumped as a rapid series of knocks sounded on Elijah’s outer door. Thump. Thump. Thump.

  My mind whirled. The Hermes Project was about Daniel. Hermes must be Daniel’s code name. Which meant it was connected to me. I was Elijah’s clone too.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  ‘Theo, if you’re in there, please open the door.’ Mel’s voice.

  I scrambled to my feet. ‘Stay here,’ I hissed at Daniel.

  ‘PLEASE.’ The thumping was louder than ever. ‘THEO.’

  Crap. She’d have half the security staff here in a minute. Not to mention waking up Daniel’s nanny.