Test Results from Third Trial for Serum CL-27. Serum still shows promise, but tests were inconclusive. Subjects experienced double vision, a proclivity to say words twice, and intense cravings for double helpings of French fries, double-dipped in ketchup and ranch dressing.
“Serum CL-27?” murmured Elliot, scanning the notes. “What the hell?”
Second Trial for Serum CL-32. Subjects experienced brief moments of what we can only describe as “astral projection.” However, subjects also displayed an insatiable desire for yogurt and inability to digest chocolate without severe gastronomic distress...
“What is he doing?” said Elliot.
“Testing things, I guess,” said Anthony. “Didn’t you say this was a research and development facility?”
Serum CL-59 unsuccessful for project goals. However, successful in eradicating psoriasis, toe fungus, and excess body hair. Recommendation to transfer current version to OLEP; continued testing for project goal necessary.
“OLEP?” said Elliot with a frown. “You don’t think they mean O’Leary Experimental Pharmaceuticals, do you?”
“Very likely,” mused Anthony. “My landlord is on a new drug for excess body hair.”
Elliot looked back at the coolers. “That could be the connection. Cicero sells the marketable research to O’Leary?”
Anthony shook his head. “Passive for Cicero, though. O’Leary didn’t sound like a grateful benefactor in that video.”
“Definitely not,” agreed Elliot slowly, looking back down at the tablet. “It’s just... such a waste.”
“A waste?”
“Cicero’s brilliant,” continued Elliot. “Okay, some of his ideas are really out there, but it’s clear the guy’s a creative genius with actual marketable ideas. I just don’t get why he even bothers with world domination.”
“Because making money isn’t the goal,” said Anthony flatly. “Power is.”
“Money is power.”
“Not to men like Cicero. We’re talking about a man who once plotted a take-over of the world’s chocolate industry so he could replace white chocolate with candied asparagus. It’s about proving that he has the capability to do it – not that he actually has any intention of doing anything worthwhile once he’s done.”
“He’s bored,” said Elliot, opening the next file. “All of this is because he’s bored. And no one’s ever given him something more interesting to work on.”
The blood drained from his face.
“Oh shit.”
“What?” asked Anthony.
Elliot cleared his throat and read aloud. “Initial trials of Serum CL-77 show promise. Subjects showed no side effects until loss of consciousness, at which point, spontaneous molecular generation began, first observed as an immense growth culminating in a second, identical individual. Individuals retained memories, experiences, and knowledge of the original copy. Further research into CLONE-77 recommended.”
Elliot put down the pad and stared at Anthony in utter shock.
“Cicero isn’t rejuvenating the sheep army,” said Elliot. “He’s creating a new army—of clones.”
Chapter Nine
“Clones.” Anthony was skeptical. After all of Cicero’s nefarious plots, an army of clones felt just a tad... banal.
“Yeah.” Elliot laughed—but to Anthony, it sounded very forced. Like he didn’t quite believe it himself. “And I thought sheep with opposable thumbs was scary.”
Anthony frowned. “You thought opposable thumbs on sheep was scary? I thought you were braver than that.”
Elliot flushed. It was almost adorable. “I—you—look, it’s not that sheep are scary, it’s that he manipulated the DNA of the sheep to give them opposable thumbs! That’s the scary part! And now he’s apparently used whatever he learned from the sheep to create clones.”
“Maybe not. If he hasn’t deployed it yet, then he doesn’t have confidence in it,” Anthony pointed out. “We’re probably years away from the deployment of a clone army.”
“Which means if we can destroy it all right now—we can keep it from ever deploying,” said Elliot, quickly typing on the tablet. “Come on, help me figure out how to destroy these samples.”
Anthony shook his head. “We don’t have time. There’s a security sweep coming through in the next ten minutes. If we destroy the lab, they’ll know we are here. They’ll stop the outgoing flights and we’ll never get to Bulgaria in time.”
“Bul—” Elliot stopped typing. “You can’t be serious. You honestly think Bulgaria is more important than this?”
“A threat that activates in twelve hours, versus a threat that’s only theoretical? Why is that even a question?” Why are you still arguing with me? wondered Anthony.
“We’re talking Twitter versus a potential clone army, Anthony,” snapped Elliot.
“Cloning isn’t fatal,” said Anthony, barely keeping his tone from being snappish in response. He wrestled the tablet back from Elliot. “Most of the time. Probably. Maybe there’s a cure?”
“I cannot possibly think of any situation in which turning someone into a clone would dramatically improve their lives.”
“It also won’t kill them,” said Anthony testily.
“Neither will an internet outage! Your desire to stay online does not trump my desire to not turn into a clone.”
Anthony gave up on reason and raised his voice to match Elliot’s. “All right, I get it, you don’t want to be a clone! Neither do I.”
“Great! So let’s neutralize this threat before it manifests already!”
“I told you, we can’t let them know we’re here!”
“Then maybe,” said a third voice, very dryly, and sounding about as confident as anyone holding a gun could be, “you shouldn’t have been yelling so loudly.”
Anthony watched the blood drain from Elliot’s face. Elliot carefully lifted his shaking hands into the air.
Anthony sighed and turned to the guard at the door. Ah yes, Classic Pose 3b, gun in one hand and radio in the other. Anthony shifted his weight ever so slightly to his right leg.
“I imagine,” said Anthony blithely, as if enemy guards captured him every week, “that you’re holding the radio because you’re about to call in your discovery of two spies in your labs.”
The guard rolled his eyes. “Uh, no, I’m holding my radio because you’ve both been arguing for so long that I already did.”
Which was when, in a spectacular show of excellent timing, the cavalry appeared behind him.
“Ah,” said Anthony, reasonably lifting his hands in surrender. “Well then. Carry on.”
“Um, sorry, no,” said Elliot from behind Anthony. “What’s going on here?”
The guard looked at Anthony. “Who’s he?”
“He’s new,” Anthony apologized.
“Yes!” chirped Elliot. “I’m new. It’s my first time being caught in a super villain’s secret underground base. Can you tell me what’s happening? In excruciating detail, please, take your time while we stand here in this otherwise very unimportant room where I can’t do anything but listen to you.”