Cookie Cutter Man (17 page)

But he didn’t. Life won, had grimly held on to the realization
that he could get no lower, so in theory it had to get better.

When everything was finally over, not a day went by that
Daniel didn’t wish he’d pulled the trigger.

The sun creeping through the venetian blinds in the living
room window woke him up. The gun was on the floor, next to the couch, where he
had finally put it down. He hadn’t been able to even look at their bed, much
less sleep on it. Daniel sat up and opened the blinds all the way and lost his
breath.

There is nothing like the sunrise after the night you almost
commit suicide. It’s not a thing many people see, but the ones who do never
forget it. Imagine the world completely plated in gold and then set afire, the
wind catching those flames and whipping them into a lovely frenzy. The perfect
half-eye of the sun emerging from the horizon is the red of a million roses and
slicing through the burning sky are platinum rays of Hope and Meaning. It was
the only real religious experience Daniel Rimms ever had, a three-minute window
when he knew, he
knew
there was a God up there somewhere, feeding
life-thread into an infinite loom, creating a pattern so broad and
all-encompassing it was impossible to see, but impossible to ignore. He knew
that he fit in that pattern somewhere, and what he was doing was according to
plan.

When the sun was full in the blue-again sky, he lay back
down on the couch and slept for the next 10 hours.

Daniel read this:

PROJECT: RE-EVOLUTION

SUBJECT: RECRUITING TEST SUBJECTS AND DONORS

PROPOSAL: The extreme problem the Company has incurred in
the gathering of sufficient DNA needed to further sustain the Project had left
us little choice but to switch our methods of recruitment and initializing
volunteers. Proposed is the DNA Child Safari. Advertising on select Networks
will portray the event as a must for the safety of children in cases of
abduction (A step safer than fingerprints![trial slogan]). All gathered
information will be placed on a database that the FBI will be granted limited
access to (for actual use in abduction cases and identification). The actual
Products harvested will be used in ways the Company sees fit.

Daniel looked up. Jared gestured toward the other material
in the folder. There was a report on the estimated number of people using
cellular phones, and the projection that the number would triple in the next
five years. There was a bio on a British scientist, a chart showing the number
of homes with digital television or Internet, and a study in biomechanical
technology.

Daniel frowned at it and looked up to Jared again. “A piece
at a time, this all looks bad enough, but what’s the connection?”

“We’ve sent all the data Simon collected to our other
offices, and I have a few opinions of my own,” Jared said, looking around at
Daniel, Ebin, Isis, Kismet, and Rob. “What all of you read is just the tastiest
of what we have, but I’ll expect you to get familiar with all of it.”

“What’s your theory?” Ebin asked, drumming his fingers on
his own folder.

“Let’s lay down what we know first,” Jared began. “We
finally have a name to file all this shit under. Maxwell O’Brien. Ring any
bells?”

“Isn’t he the computer guy?” Kismet asked.

“Close. O’Brien started out in robotics, working with the
military and large industrial corporations that needed robotic workers on
assembly lines, for manufacturing cars and tanks and shit. In ’84, he turned to
prosthetics and made huge advancements in the field. The man’s a genius.” There
was both admiration and murder in Jared’s voice.

“He lives right here in town, doesn’t he?” Rob asked.

Jared nodded.

“Up on the Hill. He has a mansion tucked away up there with
the rest of them. Now, since ’84, he’s done nothing but get bigger. His
companies have all grown at a fantastic rate, all of his investments paid off.
He spread out, getting his fingers into everything. Software, biological
research, genetics, artificial intelligence, cloning. He still holds patents on
90 percent of the equipment needed to build cars or computers or microchips or
tanks on an assembly line. He’s put billions of dollars into communications. He
has controlling interests in four of the top six wireless phone manufacturers
and service providers. He also sits on the board at two of the top five
television networks, as well as various news networks, and cable, satellite,
internet and digital service providers. There is almost
nothing
this
evil fuck hasn’t dumped money into. He’s got a seat on the board of three of
the most reputable Ivy League universities on the east coast, and has donated
an unknown amount of campaign money to various political parties.”

Jared closed the folder in front of him and sat back,
looking to Rob and nodding.

“Remember the sheep they cloned back in ’97?” Rob began
nervously. “O’Brien was behind that all the way. The scientist that got credit
for it has been working with him for years. He also discovered how to grow skin
in a dish, like they’ve started doing for burn victims. And did you ever see
that picture of a lab rat with a human ear growing on its back? Well, O’Brien
was there too.” Out of habit, Rob went to push up glasses that were no longer
there. He stopped himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose instead. Daniel didn’t
know if Rob had switched to contacts, but whatever it was, it looked it was
giving him a headache. Daniel could sympathize.

“What in the world is this man trying to do?” Isis asked.

Daniel stayed silent, keeping his opinions to himself until
he had a chance to completely form them.

Jared was more vocal with his thoughts. “We know he’s trying
to pull out from the Government, right? He’s going in for himself, and he
knows he can do it. You’ve seen the proof, all of you, that he’s already cloned
one man at least three times. How many more do you think are out there?”

“How are we supposed to find them all?” Isis asked.

“We can’t,” Jared said simply. “But we can stop him from
doing any more. We also know that he’s mastered cybernetic technology, and how
to meld it with a human. Biomechanical, I think is the word.” Jared looked to
Rob for confirmation and got it in the form of a quiet nod.

“We also learned a little something about where he gets
people like Lawrence Wills,” Jared said. “He recruits them at universities, and
according to what Simon found, O’Brien has a research facility and laboratory
underneath
Harvard University.”

A clenching in Daniel’s chest got a little worse. His
insides were being squeezed with the strange knowledge that he was party to.
He’d managed to stay pretty level-headed all day, considering his love was gone
and he’d sat up thinking about killing himself two nights in a row. He hadn’t
cried since she left, but he felt like crying now, as everyone talked about the
man responsible for the pigeon-cam. Daniel blinked and buried his head in the
folder like he was reading the ominous and vaguely linked facts before him.

You’ll never see her again
, the voice in his head
taunted.

That’s not true, Daniel thought. She’ll come back!

For what? For you? Huh-uh
.

I’ll get better and she’ll come back! Daniel pleaded with
himself, but the voice given to his doubts and his mania would not give in. The
conversation waged war in his head for some time, until another voice
interrupted it.

“Hey,” Ebin called from the doorway.

Daniel jumped in his seat and looked up. The room was empty,
the meeting was over.

“You coming?” Ebin asked.

Daniel tried to answer but the tears he was holding back
choked his voice. He pretended to cough and cleared his throat, taking another
quick wipe at his eyes to make sure they were still dry. “Yeah, I’m coming.” He
collected his things and left the room behind everyone else.

Jared was waiting in the hall for him. “Hey, you got a
minute to talk?”

“About what?” Daniel stared at the ground.

“You’ve been a little sketchy for the past couple days.”

Daniel looked him full in the eyes. “I ...” He could think
of nothing to say in his own defense.

“You all right?” Jared asked.

You’re crazy!

“No, I’m not!” Daniel said, and then realized he’d spoken
aloud.

Jared stared at him.

“She left me.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. You need some time off?”

“I can’t take time off. I have nothing else.”

You have me, if you need me
, the stranger said.

“You have me, if you need me.” Jared clapped an arm around
Daniel’s shoulder.

Daniel jerked away as if he’d gotten a shock. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not, though.” Jared said. “You keep blanking out,
like on the firing range yesterday.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You dry-fired your gun for almost a minute—”

Daniel could still hear it.
Click. Click. Click.

“—and that’s a bad place for a blank, Dan. Maybe the worst.
I have to wonder if you’re OK to work.” Jared’s stare continued to burrow
inside Daniel’s skull, searching, always searching.

“I
have
to. I can’t find another purpose in my life.
I have no other reason to get out of bed in the morning, OK? If I didn’t have
this I would a killed myself on Saturday.” Daniel said this all with a faraway
look in his eyes, with an edge in his voice that Jared had heard in Simon’s a
long time ago.

I’ll do it, Daniel thought. If he tells me I’m done I’ll
blow my mother
fucking
head off.

“Answer a question for me,” Jared said. “Are you dedicated
because of the cause, or because it keeps your mind off other things?”

“Maxwell O’Brien has to be stopped.” Speaking this made it
so. Daniel latched onto it, fixated on it. O’Brien was the reason all of this
had ever happened.

It’s only happening in your HEAD!

“You know what this means, right?” Jared asked him, their
eyes never parting.

“Yes.”

“All right then. Do what you need to do.” Jared shook
Daniel’s hand, turned, and left.

Daniel was in too deep. As far as conventional society was
concerned, he might as well be dead. He couldn’t forget everything he’d seen
and taken part in, and even if he could, the other side wouldn’t forget the
role he’d played. Like Jared said to him so long ago ...
if you’re in,
you’re in all the way
.

Why had he ever thought he could balance a relationship and
a job like this, especially when the job was so much more
meaningful
? If
he stuck it out, he could make a difference, he could help start a war that was
a long time coming. The rights of the American people had been compromised for
too long, and what he was trying to do was noble. How could he equate his own
personal happiness against that?

Then Daniel’s heart spoke up, cried out against the mutiny
his mind was staging on his soul, begging him to recant his crazed defender of
freedom propaganda. It reminded him how Echo had been the only person to really
love or care for him. How she was the only person that understood him. The war
between his temples grew steadily louder and more ferocious until the pain
pulsed within his head and clear thought was next to impossible. There was only
one course of action that could make him feel any better.

*****

Echo sat on Teresa’s couch, alone in the small apartment.
The phone hung limp in her hand.

What if he doesn’t want me back, she asked herself. She’d
been calling their new apartment for a day and half, on the hour. He still
hadn’t answered. And she just wanted to talk. She hoped her leaving would serve
as the catalyst that would get Daniel back, that it would make him be good
again. If she found he could or would or had, she would give him — give
them
— one last chance to be happy together. It had hurt so much to leave him, but
inside, she knew it was for the greater good.

She’d tracked down Tommy yesterday and asked him about the
night Daniel hadn’t come home. Of course, he said Daniel had been with him, but
Tommy would lie to God if he thought he could cover for Daniel. It had been the
other way plenty of times. The problem was, even
God
would have a hard
time telling if Tommy was lying or not, so Echo didn’t stand a chance. She
could either believe him, or not. She had also forgotten to ask Tommy if he had
a phone, and she didn’t know his last name so she couldn’t even try and look
him up.

I’ve known him for three years, she thought. He’s the best
friend of the man I love, and I don’t know his last name. She was disgusted with
herself. She didn’t really believe Daniel would kill a cop, did she? And he
certainly wouldn’t have anything to do with someone that would blow up a
nightclub!

If only she could talk to him …

Echo dialed the number again, got the answering machine
again, and left the same message as before. Was he listening to her, even now,
as she spoke and tried to keep the tremble out of her voice? Had he gotten the
other messages? Did he ignore them? She just needed to
talk
to him.

He probably just wasn’t answering the phone. But what did
that leave? It meant he was there, and didn’t want to talk to her.

Or maybe he really
wasn’t
home. But where would he
go? He had nowhere else.

Or did he? Her mind spun forth a hundred images per second,
Daniel with a different girl, or drug, in each of them.

No ... he wouldn’t do that...

But she hadn’t thought he had a gun either, and look what
happened there. What could she do, go back home and confront him? It wasn’t
like she’d have to sit outside and wait for him if he wasn’t there.

She had known something was wrong with him, terribly wrong.
He’d been acting like a completely different person. She’d watched in silent
horror over the last few months as his mind disintegrated. He had strange holes
and gaps in his memory. He’d blank out mid-sentence as if he’d been interrupted
by a voice only he could hear. What if her leaving had served not as a
catalyst, but a final straw, that one last thing pushing him over the edge? In
her mind she saw him sitting slumped on the couch, the window behind it covered
in a crusting brown stain. She could see yellow-grey chunks of something
unspeakable drying there, and in his cold, stiffened hand there was a gun.