The Red Phoenix 12: Strength Comes in Numbers (22 page)

The helicopter landed on the ground as the loud propellers caused waves of dust to blow from the surface.

“Number Two, you’re up!” said Chris in a loud voice over the idling engine, putting on sunglasses.

***

A few days later, Two was sparring with Five on the mats, wearing boxing gloves, and head protection. Chris walked in and watched them from the side of the room. He noticed Two had an exceptional ability to fight as it blocked Five’s punch then struck him dead on the face, sending him to his back. The other A.I.s applauded.

“Well done,” said Chris, helping Five off the mat. “You’ve been practicing.”

“I find it … amusing,” Two stated.

“Do you think you can take me on with the knife?” Chris asked, grinning.

The other A.I.s applauded, tossing Chris and Two a rubber combat-style knife.

“I suppose I can give it a try,” Two replied, placing itself in a fighting stance.

They paced around the mat.

“Remember, this isn’t a staring contest,” Chris stated. “I’m your opponent with a sharp knife and I mean to do you harm.”

Two rushed Chris, slashing its rubber blade at him. Chris caught its wrist, twisted it then flipped Two to its back.

“You looked in my eyes half the time,” said Chris. “Keep your eyes on the blade. That’s what going to kill you.”

Two leaped up and stood in another challenging stance. Chris attacked, slashing his blade. Two blocked his strikes, but Chris kicked Two in the stomach, foot swept it, knocking its feet out from under it, forcing Two to its back again. Two gasped for air, the wind knocked out of it.

“You left your mid-section open,” Chris stated. “You got to watch everything.”

“Again!” Two insisted, getting up.

They squared off. Two charged him. Chris slashed at Two’s chest and throat but it blocked him. Two came at Chris with incredible speed, slashing at his chest, throat, legs, leaped up then kicked him in the chest, sending him to his back.

Two rushed up on him, putting its rubber blade to his throat.

“How did you get that fast? That was amazing,” Chris stated.

“We’re fast learners,” Two replied, smiling.

“Class dismissed,” Chris responded.

CHAPTER SIX
CLONING GREENFIELD

A few days later, Sanders came into the lab with an older male and younger polished male who were wearing suits. The younger one carried a briefcase. Chris sat at his workstation, typing away at data entry, noticing them.

“Good morning, doctor,” said Chris with a friendly nod.

“It’s time, Michaels,” Sanders stated, smiling, excited.

“For what?” asked Chris.

“To complete Phase One of the program,” Sanders responded. “These two will explain it to you.”

“Mr. Michaels, I am William Hauser, the director of the Secret Service,” he said, shaking Chris’ hand. “This is Jake Steiner, my assistant.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Chris stated, shaking Steiner’s hand.

“Call me Hauser.”

“Please sit down,” Chris invited.

Hauser and Steiner took a seat. Steiner rested his briefcase on his lap.

“I am handling a special assignment for Todd Greenfield, the President of the United States,” said Hauser as Steiner opened the briefcase, taking out a manila folder. “It’s called
Operation Eagle Shadow
.”

“What can I do for you?” asked Chris.

“When we heard what Dr. Sanders and you have accomplished in this lab, the president was ecstatic,” Hauser answered. “We advised him it would be prudent for the sake of national security to have a duplicate of him or
clone
on standby in case of an emergency.”

“I see your point,” said Chris. “But you do understand that I’ve only handled their field training and played school teacher in the lab? Dr. Sanders here is the real brains behind the experiment.”

“Actually, Chris, we need you to direct us as to which one of the twelve A.I.s is the most qualified to be a clone of the president,” stated Sanders. “As you mentioned, I’m aware that some are more capable than others.”

“Right. In other words, Mr. Michaels, which one is the most leader-like and has learned your field tactics the best?” asked Hauser.

Chris thought over the question.
I’ll be damned if I let them take Number One or Two from me,
he thought.

“So, any idea which one we should use, Michaels?” asked Hauser.

“Number Twelve,” Chris answered. “Number Twelve is the one you want.”

“Okay then, Number Twelve it is,” stated Sanders.

“Are you ready to begin, Dr. Sanders?” asked Hauser.

“All systems are ready for take-off. No better time than the present,” Sanders answered. “Besides, you guys came all the way out here from D.C., there is no sense in you returning empty-handed. Follow me.”

Sanders led them to the area where the A.I.s lay unconscious inside their glass cases.

“They all look the same,” said Hauser, gazing over them with admiration. “What an amazing accomplishment.”

“It was a lot of work,” Sanders replied in a prideful voice. “If it wasn’t for the facilities here at Red Phoenix, I couldn’t have completed the experiment.”

“So, these
A.I.s
are easily controlled?” asked Hauser, staring at one of them sleeping. “I don’t have to worry about a cloned president look-alike going sideways on us?”

“Of course not,” Sanders answered with confidence.

“Do understand that if we were to use Greenfield’s clone to address the nation and it elapsed into some type of violent episode in public, serious repercussions would fall on your department,” Hauser warned.

“I have every confidence in them,” stated Sanders. “That would never happen.”

“There may be times when the cloned Greenfield will have to respond to aggressive security tactics by my agents for his protection,” Hauser stated. “The utmost compliance would be expected.”

“The A.I. are like perfect children on Christmas morning,” Sanders responded. “They won’t be a problem whatsoever.”

“Excellent,” stated Hauser.

“This is Number Twelve right here,” said Chris, guiding them to a sleeping one on the end of the second row.

“Chris, let’s move him to the official lab for augmentation,” said Sanders as he directed Hauser and his assistant to the main entrance of the next lab.

The glass case cover opened, exposing Number Twelve.
Now is my chance to see how a real clone is made,
Chris thought as Number Twelve stood from his bed.

“Chris, how are you today, sir?” asked Number Twelve in a congenial voice.

“Fine, Twelve,” Chris answered, directing him towards the lab. “Right this way.”

“Are we doing more training today, sir?”

“Today we’re doing something a little different,” Chris replied as it followed him into the lab.

“I must say, Chris, I found the recent field military training exercises, especially the helicopter, to be most exhilarating,” said Number Twelve.

“I’m glad,” Chris answered, leading him through another set of double doors that opened by itself.

The official lab was half the size of a basketball court on a concrete floor. There were two rows of six one-man beds that were three feet above the floor, with equipment and three flatscreen monitors next to each one, showing digital graphs, charts and numbers. A cylinder glass case fit over the bed, similar to where the A.I.s slept in the other room. It looked like a small CT scan machine.

“Ah, Number Twelve,” said Sanders.

“Good day, Dr. Sanders. How can I be of service?” asked Twelve.

“Step right over here and lie down on this laboratory bed for me please,” Sanders responded.

“Will this be my new sleeping quarters, Dr. Sanders?” asked Number Twelve, lying down.

“I’m just running some tests,” Sanders answered. “Go ahead and lie down.”

Number Twelve complied, lying down on the foam-padded mattress that was well-fitted around his person. The glass case closed around him.

“So, what now?” asked Hauser.

“Put these on,” said Sanders, handing Hauser and Chris a pair of goggles then typing something on a computer terminal next to the glass covered pod. “The blood sample please?”

Hauser’s assistant handed him a small glass vial with blood in it.

“I take it the procedure is bright?” asked Hauser as the three of them put on the goggles.

Hauser handed Sanders the vial.

“Oh, trust me, it’s a hundred times the size of a welder’s arc,” Sanders replied. “Chris, close the double-doors to the lab, in case somebody enters. I don’t want anybody to be blinded by this procedure.”

“You got it,” Chris responded, pushing a button to make the doors slide shut.

Sanders opened a port on the side of the pod that looked like a CD sliding door opening. He set the glass vial in a designated slot then caused it to slide shut. He typed more on his computer terminal, bringing up screens stating
RED PHOENIX EXPERIMENT CLONE XII
. Chris stepped behind Sanders, watching him run his software like a hawk, observing the three different programs he opened on his screen to begin the procedure. He noted Sanders used the password
fatal error 555
on two of the programs and
doomsday 666
on the third.

“Okay, gentlemen. Now it’s time to see some real science,” stated Sanders as he stopped typing.

There was a soft, muffled revving sound that became louder through the lab as the lighting above flickered.

“Is this normal?” asked Hauser.

“Step back a little,” Sanders instructed, stepping backwards with Chris and Hauser behind him.

The revving sound intensified until there was a bright flash from the glass pod.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding. That is bright,” said Hauser in a calm voice, holding his hands up to block the intensity of the illumination as it dimmed back to normal lighting.

Number Twelve remained calm inside the pod like it was asleep. A profile of its skeleton lying down showed on one monitor screen, its heart rate on another and digital numbers going in a rapid speed with other graphics of its anatomy on the third.

Inside the pod, a piece of machinery that sat just above its head moved across its body at a slow speed, sliding on the edges of the framing of the bed, rolling past its head, shoulders and chest.

Chris and the others watched in amazement as the procedure was completed. The equipment inside the pod reached past its feet then hurried back to its original position. The glass concealment uncovered itself as some vapors billowed out from the inside of the pod. The A.I. still lay unconscious. Sanders, Hauser and Chris moved to the side of the bed.

“Well, Hauser, what do you think?” asked Sanders, impressed with his work.

“What do I think? I think I’m looking down at a perfect clone of President Greenfield,” Hauser answered.

“You’re welcome,” stated Sanders as he and others removed their goggles.

“Oh, I think you’re on your way up, Sanders,” said Hauser, leaning down over the cloned president’s face, observing it. “Can you imagine what our government could do with this technology in terms of spy warfare?”

“Just let me know what you need,” said Sanders. “Chris and I will take care of you, right Michaels?” he added, slugging Chris on the shoulder like they were a crack team.

Spy warfare? Are you kidding me? Unbelievable,
Chris thought, disgusted.

The clone’s eyes opened.

“He’s awake,” stated Hauser, startled.

“Can you hear me?” asked Sanders.

“Yes,” the clone answered. “I hear you just fine, Dr. Sanders.”

“Ah! He looks and sounds just like him!” said Hauser in an excitable voice.

“Remember, although he looks the same age as the president, physically, the clone is far more superior and capable,” Sanders stated.

“To whom are you referring, Dr. Sanders?” asked the clone.

Hauser broke out in laughter.

“I’m sorry, sir. Did I say something amusing?” asked the clone in a polite voice.

“Brilliant, Sanders,” said Hauser, calming down. “Simply brilliant. The world will believe it’s President Greenfield without a doubt.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Sanders stated, placing his hands in his lab coat pockets. “Let me just run some last minute tests and he’s all yours tomorrow. Sound good?”

“Perfect,” Hauser replied, turning away with Steiner.

“Chris? Will you see them out?” asked Sanders. “I’ll wait here with our new friend.”

“Of course, doctor,” Chris answered in a captivated tone, rapt by the appearance of the new clone, moving towards the double doors.

“What am I to do now, Dr. Sanders?” asked Twelve.

“Just sit there and be the golden parachute that you are,” Sanders replied, grinning.