Popular Clone (15 page)

His thoughts were spinning. Veronica had never paid him any kind of attention before, and now she had
come
to his
house
.

There was only one explanation: Two. That must be why she was suddenly interested in spending time with him. Two was confident and cool. He had charm.

If Fisher tried to study with Veronica, he'd just start gibbering again and make a fool of himself. Two would have to go in his place.As much as Fisher longed to spend an afternoon with Veronica Greenwich, he knew he could never pull off pretending to be his clone. Maybe in a few months he would be ready to make the switch … maybe by freshman year of high school …

Fisher's mouth tightened in resolve. If the truth came out now, if Veronica ever found out that this new Fisher was an impostor, she wouldn't like him anymore.

He had to find Two and keep him a secret, at
whatever
the cost.

CHAPTER 15

Human error is the most reliable thing on earth. Except when they mess it up.

Fisher pushed the door to his room open with enough force that a rack of test tubes rattled on its shelf. He almost flung his bag in the air in shock when he saw who was there: Two, twisting himself around and around in circles. FP had clamped onto the clone's ankle.

“Ow, ow … uh, little help, Fisher?”

“You!” Fisher said. “When did you get here?”

“Just a—ow! Let go of me, you stupid pig!—a little while ago,” Two said, trying to shake the pig off the cuff of his pants. FP held on for dear life, grunting.

“And how did you get past the house systems?” Fisher demanded, remembering to keep his voice down just enough that his parents wouldn't think he was yelling at himself. Even though he was, sort of.

“I rigged up a special ladder to your window,” Two said, his rhythmic stomping getting faster. “Just in case we needed a quick escape from the guards. It extends right over the wall.”

Fisher crossed his arms and let FP continue gnawing for a few more seconds before snapping his fingers sharply and pointing down at his feet. “Come here, boy. That's enough.”

1 baking soda volcano

2 growing mold on bread

3 drawing moustaches on my clone while he sleeps

4 this sucks!

FP let out a disappointed snort and trotted over to Fisher's side, shooting the closest expression to a glare that a pig could make in Two's direction.

“We need to talk,” Fisher announced.

Two plopped down in Fisher's desk chair, swiveling in a full circle before, as usual, kicking up his feet on the desk. Two's smug, self-satisfied expression was really grating on Fisher. Seeing it on his own face made him cringe. He hoped he never looked like that.

“You know what I just sat through?” Fisher demanded. The clone shook his head. “A lecture about
the pressures of school life and the ways that are and are not appropriate to cope with them
. I was harshly interrogated by my par—I mean, er, the guards.”

“Did you give up any information?” said Two, looking severe.

“No, but that's not the point. The point is it's
your
fault. We're only in trouble because of the pranks you pulled at school.”

Two raised his hands. “I was just trying to interfere with the enemy's training schemes. Besides, it's so boring there I had to do
something
interesting. The other kids really seemed to appreciate it.”

“The more trouble you cause, the more attention you call to yourself,” Fisher said. He snapped his fingers again at FP, who had begun to creep back toward Two— even though Fisher was halfway tempted to let the pig use Two as a chewing post. “No one can find out about us and our plans.
No matter what.
Okay?”

Two nodded slowly, reluctantly.

“Besides,” Fisher went on, “you were mean to Mr. Granger today. He's a friend of mine and a good teacher. You don't find many of those at Wompalog.”

“Granger?” Two frowned. “He smells like Krazy Glue and his eyes don't focus. I don't like him.”

Fisher shook his head, wondering whether some outside element—maybe something radioactive?—had gotten tossed into the vat while this second him was grown. He reviewed the cloning process again and again in his head, but couldn't think of anything that had seemed out of line with his predictions. If anything, the procedure had been even smoother than he had expected. So what was going on? He found it hard to believe that a simple lack of experience could explain everything his clone was doing and saying. This time, he did not try and stop FP when the pig made a run for Two.

“You're pushing this to the brink, Two,” Fisher said angrily, slamming his hand on his bedside table for emphasis. His hand hit a ruler—half concealed by an open box of markers—that was sticking off the desk edge. The impact catapulted the box at his own face. He ducked quickly. “Do you have any idea how much danger you're putting us in?”

“I. Am. Tired. Of. Waiting,” Two replied, accenting each word with a shake of his arm. FP had now determinedly grabbed hold of the clone's sleeve. “I'm tired of lying low. I'm not gathering any useful information, and every minute we delay puts our mother's life in more danger!”

Fisher's mind worked feverishly to come up with a way to reassure Two while still keeping him under control.

“Let—go—of—me—you—edible—menace!” Two kept flapping his arm up and down.

Fisher stepped in decisively and unclamped FP's jaws. After setting the pig down on the bed, at a safe distance from Two, Fisher straightened up and looked his clone in the eyes.

“I wasn't going to tell you this so early,” he said, trying to sound like an allied general, “but I've made a contact that could be crucial to our success.” He wished he had a wall-mounted map to pace in front of. He paced, anyway, for effect. “If we're going to get your—our—mom back, we need more than just your spying. The enemy will not give up information so easily.”

Two looked at him attentively. If Fisher could sell this, then maybe, just maybe, he could buy himself enough time to fix the situation.

“This is dangerous to even talk about, so don't write it down. You never know who might be picking through your trash.” Fisher was mentally running through every spy movie he'd ever seen, trying to pick out lines that sounded good. “We have a contact on the inside.”

Two perked up.

“A double agent?” he said, his perpetual cool expression dropping away. “This could be just what we need to crack the enemy's defenses!”

Two's unusual excitement made FP stir for a moment. He looked at Two, probably considering whether or not to chew on him. After a moment, he decided it wasn't worth the effort and slumped down again and began snoring on Fisher's pillow.

“Yes,” Fisher said, “it could be. But only if you stop making a wreck of the school. Thanks to the chaos you're causing, the enemy is tightening its security. Our double agent is one step closer to getting exposed.”

Two slumped in his chair. He actually looked a little bit regretful. “All right,” Two said. “I guess I got a little carried away. Tell me about this agent.”

“She is another student and has earned the trust of the enemy's leaders,” Fisher said.

“She?” said Two, perking up, an excited shine in his eyes. “Is it …” He paused and cleared his throat. “Is it Amanda Cantrell?” he asked in a lower, deliberately flat voice.

“No,” Fisher said, sitting down in his desk chair and shuffling through a drawer, while Two did his best to hide a deflated expression. “Her name is Veronica Greenwich.” Fisher produced a little black-and-white photo of Veronica that he had cut from last year's yearbook. “She has inside information that we can't get any other way, but getting it will be extremely delicate. You can't speak to her directly about any of this. She's in too deep to risk that. Instead, you're going to meet her tomorrow, under the guise of studying together. When she helps you, there will be very small clues hidden in the things she points out. Words, quotes, scenes. These messages will be very subtle. Record what she says faithfully—record
every
thing
she says—and we'll discuss the clues when you get home.”

Fisher exhaled silently, praying that Two would buy this latest part of the story. This was the longest, most complicated lie Fisher had ever told. He was worried that he was going to get lost in it if he had to keep it up for too long.

“I'm sorry,” Two said. “Tomorrow won't work.”

“What?” Fisher said. “What do you mean it won't work?”

“I'm meeting with Amanda to coordinate the project to move the DBYBBD population back to the woodlands.”

Fisher's jaw dropped.

“You're going to … to put our whole mission at risk in order to move some
ducks
?” Fisher could have throttled Two.

“If anything, I'm helping us out,” Two said, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at Fisher defensively. “If you're so concerned about blowing our cover, then the best thing to do is to lie low and act normally for a while. If Veronica is in so much danger of being exposed, we should give it a few days before meeting.”

Fisher stuttered for a few seconds. In the fantasy world he'd been crafting, Two's argument was actually …
right
.

“There is one other mistake I'll admit I've made, though,” Two went on as he stood up. “And that's letting you boss me around and not questioning your instruc-tions.”

Fisher exploded. “I'm organizing the whole thing! I know what's going on! Without me, there's no plan.”

Two's stare turned hard and angry.

“And why is that, exactly? Why have you never asked me to help craft the ideas or make plans of my own? Even when I agree to go along with all of your plans, you
still
don't trust me. Spy cameras on everything I do. You keep telling me I'm putting us at risk, but what about when you snuck into school? If we'd been seen together at Wompalog it would've been disastrous. Your vibe is all wrong and I'm
sick
of it!”

“I just want everything to run smoothly,” Fisher said. His face had heated up. Embarrassment and anger were coursing through him at once.

“Is that all it is?” said Two, narrowing his eyes. “Or is there something else going on?”

“What … What are you talking about?” said Fisher, taking an instinctive step back.

“You're making all the plans, telling me where to go, and watching what I do, but I don't know what
you're
up to. Are you trying to keep something from me?” Two took a step forward. “What are you scared that I'll find out?”

“N-Nothing!” Fisher stammered. “You know as much as I do! I'm just trying to keep everything from spinning out of control!”

“You're hiding something, and I know it,” Two fired back. “You're terrified. And until you learn to mellow out a little, we won't get anywhere.” With that, he turned and practically dove into his hidden bunk, leaving Fisher standing alone, hands balled into fists.

He had completely lost control of the situation … and Two was inches away from the truth.