Logan turned away and headed for the L-shaped table. He grabbed his cup of coffee and took a sip. Connelly joined him, reaching into his right pocket and tossing a square, metallic object onto the table. No larger than an ice cube, he scooped it up and placed it into his own pocket. A smile flickered across his lips.

  “What’s this one about?”

  Connelly hid another hoarse cough beneath a chuckle. “It has adventure, peril, and some dancing.”

  “Thanks.”

  The doctor approached and stuck his hand in his briefcase sitting across from Logan. He took out his digital notepad, checking off a list for his report. “Don’t mention it. My wife would actually see it as you doing us a favor. She’s been nagging me about getting rid of those old movies for fifteen years now."

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “What happened to the other Logans?”

  Connelly’s nostrils flared, and he eyed Logan up and down, sizing him up. “That’s a delicate question.”

  The door opened from the far right. The General stepped into the room, trailed by Doctor Simmons. The stocky General looked like he hadn’t worn his faded gray combat suit and tactical vest in years. He probably only put it on for some of the news cameras outside catching the protests.

  “I thought you were the one who’s supposed to be asking questions, Connelly.” The General gave him a cursory nod.

  “I’ll do my job, General Wilde, and you’ll do yours.” Connelly coughed into his elbow.

  The General sneered. “The three of us need to talk. Now.”

  Doctor Simmons cleared his throat. “Logan, why don’t you go down to the TAC. We’ll be sending you off soon.”

  He gave Simmons a blank expression, all the while shocked at hearing he would be sent back through time so soon. They usually gave him three days to recover. “Sure, Doctor.”

  He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He pressed his left ear into the door, straining to hear the conversation among the three men. He caught General Wilde’s voice first—his was always the loudest and most grating.

  “…So I think you’ve proven it could be done with clones. Now I’m interested in starting human trials again…”

  A hacking cough from Connelly followed. “It will kill a regular human.”

  “We need a real person to go into the Time Access Chamber,” Simmons’s gravelly voice said. “Don’t give us that crap about time travel killing people when—”

  Connelly cut him off. “You lost your say in the matter when you sabotaged Logan 5.”

  Logan stepped backward, his hands trembling as he turned away and headed toward the TAC lab. He had suspected as much, but still, it was difficult to hear the truth. However, there were still pieces to the puzzle missing, and he needed to find out what they were—before he ended up like the other Logans.

  “Good morning, Logan 6,” a dark-haired woman in a lab coat said with a smile. She came from the opposite direction down the hall.

  “Good morning, Karen.” He gave a curt nod. He didn’t slow his pace, he needed to get to the lab.

  “I’ve made some adjustments to your diet. I’ll let Doctor Simmons know.”

  “Thanks.” He passed her, motioning toward the TAC lab to let her know he couldn’t stop to discuss meals.

  He lowered his head when another doctor, an IthaCorp security guard, and a lab technician passed him in the hallway as well. He went into the TAC lab, eyeing not the door to the time travel chamber, but the man sitting at the control panel—Riley.

  Logan cringed at the abrasive music blaring from Riley’s headphones. It was a wonder the guy could still hear. He tapped him on the shoulder, and the young man swiveled in a startled movement, removing his headphones.

  “Oh, hey…hey.” He turned the ugly music off, thank goodness. “For a second, I thought you were my uncle.”

  Logan grinned. “Lucky for you, I’m not. He’d let you have it for forgetting to put in the order.”

  Riley ran a hand through his dark brown curls. “What order?”

  “The flowers. For your mother’s birthday.” Logan hated lying to him, but he wanted the kid to have no part in what he was about to do.

  “I don’t remember…”

  “That’s why you guys invented me. Perfect memory. I thought I’d remind you, since it looked like you weren’t paying attention when he told you. You know how Doctor Simmons is when he opens his mouth.”

  Riley chuckled. “Tell me about it. Thanks for the heads up. Where do I put in the order?”

  “Le Fleur. You need to call in now, if you want it done in time.” When Logan saw the young man reach for the call button, he added, “Why don’t you call from Karen’s office?”

  Riley’s bony index finger hovered above the red button. He gave Logan a crooked smile. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

  “I just passed her in the hallway, and she asked about you. Pretend Simmons sent you to talk to her about my new diet. You can call the flower shop from there and talk with her.”

  “Karen asked about me?” He was already on his feet and shedding his wrinkled lab coat.

  “Well, are you going to stand here all day? Your uncle’s going to be out of his meeting with the General.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  Riley nearly stumbled through the doorway. Logan waited a few seconds before locking the door. He rummaged through the other man’s lab coat hanging on the chair. His fingers tightened when he grabbed the keycard. He slipped it into a slot and entered a code: 87543. He had seen Simmons do it before when updating records uploaded from Aero or when performing a manual entry.

  The large screen above the control panel turned from black to white, and Doctors Simmons and Connelly stood side-by-side, facing the camera. Connelly let out a cough and spoke.

  “When we started this, we had agreed to never do the past. We would observe the future, learn from it, and perhaps…avoid any cataclysms, if possible. It’s been two months since Logan 1 has been sent twenty years into the future. In that regard, our project can be considered a success—time travel, with an enhanced clone, is possible. However, the obvious disappearance of Logan is worrisome. Either something prevented him from returning through the TAC, or he is deceased.”

  Simmons cleared his throat. “We’ve prepared Logan 2 and will be sending him in one hour. His instructions are to find Logan 1, or at least find out what happened to him."

  The screen went to black and lit up again. This time, Simmons faced the screen alone.

  "Doctor Connelly is in the infirmary. It seems his use of the TAC last year could prove fatal. We'll continue monitoring his health."

  Logan's stomach tightened and he balled his fists. "Son of a..."

  So, that was the source of Connelly’s mysterious illness. The old man had actually traveled through time. However, it took a toll on his body, unlike the Logans. He had to rewind the recording because he had missed what Simmons had said.

  The recording of Simmons continued. "...and General, sir, I know you see the return of Logan 2 as a success, but we should treat his report about the future with the urgency it deserves. Logan 2 must return and terminate Logan 1. If the United Americas government ever found out about this..." He gulped, then instructed Aero to end the recording.

  Logan ran through the subsequent recordings: Logan 2 never returned from his assassination mission. An updated Logan 3, with more enhancements and designed to be more obedient, returned, but had failed. Simmons had him “terminated” as a precaution. An appended recording, narrated by the voice of a distraught Doctor Connelly, showed Logan 2 finally returning through the TAC—but then attacking Simmons and inadvertently killing a female lab assistant who had been there. IthaCorp security rushed in and sliced up Logan 2 with their laser guns. Simmons held the lifeless woman in his arms, sobbing over her.

  Logan drew in a deep breath, blood pounding in his ears, and played the last recording. Logan 4, who was as compliant as Logan 3 had been, returned from the TAC with a gaping, bloody wound in his side. It looked like the Core Guards from the future had done him in good. He didn’t make it, either.

  In the last half of the video, Connelly faced the screen, pausing to cough up blood into a wad of tissue. He claimed the first Logan now went by the name of Adam, and had forged an impressive new society, where clones and humans could live together—but it was being held back by the Free Army and their sympathizers, and those who had financial and military interests in keeping clones as a sub-class. In a pained voice, he said Simmons would be absent from the lab while Logan 6 was being prepared; the scientist, in his grief, had sabotaged Logan 5 and gotten the clone killed. Logan 6 would be the last, and if he didn’t succeed, they’d have to dismantle the entire program and admit to the government’s Scientific Oversight Committee what IthaCorp had done.

  The screen faded to black.

  Logan didn’t need a hint as to what his fate would be if the program were dismantled. With sweaty palms, he slipped the keycard back into Riley’s lab coat pocket, reeling from the fact that all this time, he had been asked to go into the future and murder a clone brother—himself, in a sense—one whose only crime was being more than what some men wanted him to be.

  It made him angry, as angry as Logan 2 who had returned from the future with bulging eyes and veins popping in his neck. Did he learn the truth, too? Was that why he came back here in a rage?

  A pounding at the lab door ripped him from his thoughts and questions. He heard Simmons’s gravelly voice, an octave higher than usual, demanding that Logan unlock the lab entrance or else IthaCorp security would be called. When Logan heard the beeping of an override code being entered into the digital lock panel on the other side of the door, he bolted toward the TAC and turned it on.

  He synced his access watch with the familiar light portal. A soft breeze caressed his cheek, as if welcoming him. Just as the breeze grew into a whirlwind, he looked back at the chamber’s window to see Simmons rush in with five IthaCorp security guards. A stunned Doctor Connelly joined them, but he gave Logan a subtle nod, as if saying he understood what was happening.

  The speaker came on, and a seething Doctor Simmons spoke. “You piece of shit clone. Get back here, now!"

  He kept his eyes on the window, eyeing the two doctors and the guards with apprehension. He backed into the portal, knowing that they wouldn’t risk coming inside the chamber while the access point was open. Not unless they all wanted to die.

  “I’m sorry, Doctor Simmons. I’m sorry about what Logan 2 did."

  Wisps of light, bursting with energy, slid along Logan’s skin and began pulling him toward the greater part of the access point. He met Simmons’s gaze and saw the scientist’s expression soften. He almost looked like a statue.

  He suddenly leaned forward, face screwing up in rage. “Don’t ever talk to me about that. You don’t get to talk to me about her. Now, shut down the TAC and come out."

  Logan shook his head. He no longer hated Simmons. He finally understood why he acted the way he did toward him, though it was no fault of his. Logan 2 was to blame. “I’m sorry."

  Logan stretched out his arms and threw himself backward, into the light.

  ***

  The old warehouse on 24th street still smelled like damp wood and rat droppings. Logan took a few seconds to rub his sore knees and recover from the head-spinning that overtook him from traveling through the TAC. When he was certain that he wasn’t going to vomit or swoon, he walked over to the south side of the abandoned warehouse.

  He used the sunlight beaming from holes in the roof to guide him. He felt his way along the wall until he located the false wooden panel where he had stored clothes and supplies from an earlier trip. He quickly exchanged his simple lab clothes for an authentic Core Guard uniform. He had been saving it for an emergency, or for when he was able to actually catch up with Logan 1, who was apparently Adam. He still wanted to catch up with him, but this time, it wasn’t in order to kill him. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do next, to be honest. But he knew he needed to see Adam for himself, to speak with him face-to-face.

  Logan walked briskly down the alley toward the main street, making a sharp right turn. He tensed when he saw a large crowd of people gathered, with several units of Core Guards strung throughout. They lined the sidewalks but kept the street clear. When the crowd began cheering at a motorcade of sleek black cars with the Ithaca United Core symbol, he realized that he had walked in on a procession.

  He spotted at least three high-ranking Core members who served under Adam. They waved at the crowd and saluted the Core Guards as they passed. One of the members had an amplified speaker in his car, and he began rattling off phrases such as: “The Free Army isn’t for freedom, but slavery.” “The United Core will unite all people, whether natural-born or clone.” “We have no future, unless we learn from the mistakes of our past.” They even had a preacher in the motorcade, waving a worn, leather-bound Bible.

  Hmph. Looked like Adam was smart. He knew who to surround himself with and how to speak to people. Did he really believe in all this? Or was this some type of battle tactic in order to win the greater war? This whole time he had been conditioned to believe that the Free Army were the ones standing for liberty and a safe future, but they were really the creation of military and corporate interests, and their foot soldiers the prejudiced and privileged who would send clones like Adam and Logan to war, work the coal mines or oil rigs, but never to sit next to them in a college classroom or pray next to them in a church.

  He gave a curt nod to a few Core Guards as he followed the motorcade. His only lead to Adam would have to be one of the men or women in those sleek black cars. Just when the procession of cars turned at Lincoln to go past 23rd Street, a pair of bright hazel eyes, wide nose, and pouty lips emerged in the sea of faces. Logan’s breath caught in his throat.

  Anika.

  The dancer. The woman who had looked at him and knew what he was and where he had come from. What if she knew where Adam was? Despite his brain telling him to just follow the motorcade with the politicians and dignitaries, something deep within his gut pulled him toward Anika.

  He approached her, almost entranced, and was within reach of her when she turned and caught a glimpse of him. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened with recognition. Just as she turned to a neighbor next to her and shouted something to him, the bodies pressing against them in the crowd opened their mouths in elated unison and shouted “United Core, freedom for all!"

  Anika turned in the opposite direction and snaked through the crowd toward a real Core Guard. Logan lunged after her, grabbing her by the wrist. She spun on her heel and swung her fist at him. She landed a hit next to his right eye. It stunned him. He ignored the throbbing pain and pulled her toward him.

  “Where’s Adam?” He whispered harshly into her ear.

  “You’re hurting me."

  He loosened his grip. “Sorry."

  A flash of pain and a fleeting vision of stars hit him again. Anika had broken through the crowd and was running down Lincoln Street before he realized she had whacked him again.

  Logan cursed and pushed his way past a group of teenagers watching the procession. Who the hell was this woman? He never knew a dainty ballerina could land punches like that. At least, none he ever saw in the films Doctor Connelly had given him. He was torn between anger and sheer fascination.

  He chased her down the street, pulling out his gun and firing a warning shot when she tried to hail a cab. The few people in the area who weren’t at the procession with the entire city assumed she had gotten into trouble. He thanked the stars that his Core Guard uniform came in handy.

  In keeping with his disguise, he handcuffed her when he caught up to her. He pulled her along and walked her down the street, turning a corner. He took her another block before slipping into an alley with her. When he spun her around to face him, he waited for her to begin pleading with him. However, she just glared at him defiantly, in silence.

  “You’re not going to talk now?” He wanted to massage the side of his face where she had hit him, but he resisted the urge.

  “Why should I? You’re just like the other clones they sent. Don’t you think for yourself? Can’t you see that they’re using you to get to Adam? And when they don’t need you anymore, what do you think’s going to happen?"

  He glanced at a few people walking past the alley. They didn’t notice him and Anika. He gazed at her. “I’m supposed to be the last. They were going to get rid of me too. I’m here because I want to meet Adam."

  And he certainly had nowhere else to go. If he even dared go back through the TAC, he’d be sliced up like the other Logan. For better or worse, this time was where he had to stay.

  “I don’t believe you.” Her nostrils flared, in the same way they did when he had barged into her dance class that day.

  “If I were here to do their bidding, then you would be dead. Right? I told you, I don’t want to hurt you."

  “Then un-cuff me."

  “No way. I’ve learned my lesson."

  She bit her lower lip. “It’s funny you’re looking for Adam, because he was right next to me when I spotted you."

  Logan’s pulse began racing. “That man with the short blond hair, scar on his right cheek, wearing the green jacket, black boots, and a silver ring on his right hand?"

  She nodded, unable to hide her amazement at his detailed description. “I told him it was too dangerous to walk around like that. But he told me he wanted to be among the people. He said he didn’t want to wait until the Free Army was destroyed—he wanted to be a leader for Ithaca today."

  “Hmph. I’m starting to like this Adam. Did you know he was born Logan 1?"

  Her eyes narrowed. “And which one are you?"

  “Logan 6, but I’m not trying to kill him like the others were. It...was smart of you to break away, so I wouldn’t discover him."

  “Just take me to my dance class. Adam will come looking for me."