A Case of Identity

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  As I walked out of Ray's office I couldn't help but wonder what I would, or should do next. My future was bound to be short. It never took the BIT long to figure these things out. They always got their dupe.

  A lot of thoughts came to me, options and desires all muddled together. Life choices thrown into a chaotic mess, all meaning nothing now. I should live, I thought. Do something I'd always wanted to do before the BIT ended all my choices. But could I truly say that any of these things, these wants and dreams that I remembered, were really mine? If I was nothing but a myriad of memories programmed into my brain, then what was real?

  There was one thing that I truly wanted more than anything else, and that was revenge. It was the one thing that I could honestly say that I, me the dupe, truly wanted and needed. I'd been alive only a few short years it seemed, and yet didn't I deserve a future? Didn't I think? Didn't I feel and breathe, and live? Whoever was responsible should have to pay for taking it away.

  The only problem was how to go about getting that satisfaction before whoever killed Dangler got to me, too, or until the BIT caught up to me and did the job for them. One name on the list had the answers, and that guy was Worley himself, the original. It meant starting right at the top, but time was against me, so why not? It seemed as good of a place as any, especially since I really had very little else.

  The list was in alphabetical order and Worley's information was at the bottom. It indicated that Worley worked out of Victory's corporate headquarters downtown. It was a good hour away, and I decided to take the tube since it would be difficult to find parking, and I could think during the ride. I had used the tube in college almost every day and always got my best ideas while riding it. Or had I? Anger welled up in me. I couldn't trust anything. Everything I remembered and knew had been programmed into me.

  Programmed memories or not, the gentle rocking and clacking of the rail car as it rolled along relaxed me, and I started to really think about what I had to do. It wasn't going to be easy. At the very least the BIT were going to be after me soon. On top of that, someone had killed the Dangler dupe, and it wasn't the BIT. That had probably been done by this Fred Worley guy, and whoever Fred Worley was, it was certain he was a big shot at Victory. That meant I could be up against an entire, gigantic financial institution as well. One with money and power and not squeamish about eliminating a dupe.

  There was another thing about the killing of Dangler that made me nervous. Why had Worley, or whoever had done it, left the body for the BIT to find? It would have been no problem to cremate it somewhere, destroying any evidence of its existence. Nobody had ever found Jimmy Hoffa, had they? The body was meant to be found. Whoever killed Dangler wanted the BIT to come after me.

  An hour later, the tube car stopped, but I still had no real plan. It didn't matter. I had to do something, so I'd just have to make it up as I went. I got out and headed the three additional blocks toward the heart of the city and Victory's headquarters building.

  The kinks and stiffness from the tube ride evaporated a little with each step as I walked. The spring air was cool and gentle, and it flowed over me like a silk sheet, gently caressing me. A soft swooshing rustled from the newly formed leaves on the trees lining the sidewalks, relaxing me, and I felt better than I had most of the morning. I felt alive, something I no longer took for granted. A gurgling sound grew louder as Victory came into view, and I smiled seeing a fountain outside its main entrance. I'd always liked fountains.

  "Hey Fred."

  The voice startled me. I looked and squinted through the bright afternoon sun at a man I had never met before. He was looking right at me. "What?"

  "Taking the afternoon off?"

  I was about to answer, then stopped myself. "Ur, no," I said, trying to come up with something. "Just getting a little air."

  "Yeah, it's nice out here."

  My thoughts were racing, and it was difficult to keep myself under control. Better come up with something. "So what are you doing out here?"

  "I had a meeting, and I'm just getting back. You been to see Sanders yet? He's looking for you."

  Sanders? "Naw, I've been dodging him. Likely whatever it is will just give me more headaches, you know?"

  "Ain't that the truth. But I wouldn't think you have to worry, being the bright boy around here."

  "I guess I shouldn't put it off then."

  "I wouldn't. Might as well get it over with, whatever it is," he said, glancing at his watch, "I've got to get back to work even if you don't. Catch you later. Usual drinks at Charlie's?"

  "Sure," I said, even though I had no idea where Charlie's was.

  "Good. See you there." The man nodded, and headed toward the building entrance, and I sighed in relief.

  It seemed I had my answer. I was Fred, or at least I looked enough like him, and talked enough like him, to pass the test with a drinking buddy. That gave me some confidence, and an idea. If I could fool a drinking buddy, then maybe I could fake it well enough to get into Worley's office and find out more. I needed something, after all. I couldn't just keep going bumbling about, hoping for something to happen. I had to make it happen.

  Telling myself over and over that I was Fred, I walked through the main entrance as if I belonged there. I tried to keep my ears open for anyone calling me by the name Fred, and a couple of times they did. In each case, I nodded, or smiled and waved, and went on, trying to look like I was in a hurry to get somewhere. My hand was shaking as I reached out and pressed the elevator button, and I fidgeted waiting for it to arrive. I hoped I wasn't too obvious.

  The door dinged, and I sighed in relief and entered. When I turned around, time slowed, the air becoming stuffy and thin. I couldn't breathe as I watched myself, or rather Fred, walking across the lobby heading directly toward the same elevator I was in. He was looking right at me. I was so paralyzed by the surprise that I didn't even try to hide my face. As the door closed, he passed out of sight, and I let my breath out. I didn't think he recognized me. Another close call in a day filled with them, but I was shaking.

  I knew where to find Worley's office from the information Ray had given me. It was at the very top floor along with the other executives. I knew I was on the right floor as the elevator door opened, revealing a large reception area filled with soft, finely upholstered leather chairs and sofas with natural wood tables ringing a reception desk in the center. Above the desk, two prominent, shiny metallic characters, VF, backlit the wall in a pleasant orange glow. A countless number of glass-encased offices stretched out to the right and left.

  "Mr. Worley? Mr. Sanders has been waiting for you," a lady said, standing next to me.

  "Eh? Oh, thanks," I said, taking a step toward the left side offices.

  "This way." The secretary grabbed my elbow and guided me in the opposite direction.

  "Oh, yeah," I said chuckling. "Some days I can't figure my right from my left. Thank you." The secretary smiled in response, but I could feel her stiffen. Was I acting different than Fred would have? Was he a nice, friendly sort, or a mean, little bully like Ms. Hanson? There was no way to tell until it was too late. I just had to hope I was acting close enough to pass, or that people would be too afraid to act against me.

  I walked down the hallway and found Sanders' office near the end marked ostentatiously by two large oak doors. I didn't hesitate and walked in. Warner Sanders, Chairman and CEO, stood near a massive oak desk. I found meeting him in person disorienting. To me, he was a mythic figure I'd only seen pictures of. I didn't know what I should say, or even how to start.

  Sanders turned and faced me. He looked angry, his face red and puffy. "We've got a real situation here, Worley. I warned you about this duplication business, but you wouldn't listen. Now we've got a problem. Guess who the BIT visited this morning?"

  Worley was behind the dupes. It was good to know for certain who my target was. "The Thompson Dupe, no doubt," I said, finally realizing that I had been asked a ques
tion.

  "Yes. You know, I only went along with this because you convinced me it was a good idea. How could you let this happen? I thought that with all that military experience of yours that you'd have been prepared. Now I just don't know. I'm beginning to loose my confidence in you, and my patience. If you can't control the situation, maybe I should find someone who can."

  How should I answer? I had to think fast so I said the first thing that came to me. "I've got it under control."

  "Well, you better have because if this ever gets out I'll make sure that you're the one that gets nailed for it. I'm not going down for your mistakes. Now get out of here and deal with it."

  As Sanders said it he turned his back to me. I was glad he did, because then I didn’t have to hide my smile.