The Mirror Man, стр. 69
He didn’t want to have to watch and be made to feel all of that along with his double, along with his son. He didn’t want to get swallowed up in that kind of sorrow. He couldn’t risk losing the jagged edge of his anger if he wanted to carry out his plan. He had to stay angry. He had to stay sharp.
So, when Brent arrived about an hour before they were set to watch, he told him to call Charles Scott and ask for a reprieve.
“Tell him I need a few days,” he said. “Tell him whatever you want, but I don’t want to see it. It’s going to turn me all around. I can’t.”
“I don’t know, Jeremiah. I doubt he’d go for it.”
“He must have seen your report from yesterday, right? You must have put down that I cried. Just tell him you think it’ll do me some good. Tell him I just need some time. He’s got to understand that, doesn’t he? Just call him. This is important, Brent. I need to stay focused. Watching this isn’t going to help.”
Brent shook his head and took out his cell phone. “I’ll try,” he said.
Fifteen minutes later, Scott walked into the living room, a look of feigned concern on his face.
“Mr. Adams,” he said, and he nodded his greeting to Brent. “Mr. Higgins tells me you don’t want to watch your scheduled viewing today. This is rather unorthodox.”
Jeremiah tried to swallow his anger before he spoke.
“Look, Dr. Scott, I just need a little time, a few days without watching. After yesterday, it’s just hard, is all. You gave me a day after my mother died. This is the same thing. I just need a little time.”
Scott tightened his lips into a failed attempt at a smile and sat down on the edge of a chair across from Jeremiah.
“The viewings of the wake and the funeral were not monitored,” he said. “That can be considered your time off in this case. You are required to watch for four hours every day, Mr. Adams. The continuity is crucial to this experiment. I can understand that you’re in mourning, and I’m sorry for that, but we can’t just take more time off because you don’t feel up to it. I’ve allowed you too much already with the shortened viewing we saw together the other day. I’ve made that concession. Now it’s time we get back to work.”
Inwardly, Jeremiah was reveling in a fantasy that ended with Charles Scott in a bloody heap on the floor. It almost made him smile.
“With all due respect, Dr. Scott, everyone is entitled to bereavement time. Isn’t that a law or something? ViMed is giving the clone time off, aren’t they? You don’t see him being called into the office. I’m only asking for the same thing. I mean, come on, he’s just going to be sitting around moping at home. I don’t see how my watching that will be of any benefit to the project. What difference does it make? I already know what he’s going to do. I can tell you right now that I would do exactly the same thing.”
“Dr. Young feels the continuity is important for your own well-being,” he said.
Jeremiah wanted to spit. No one other than Brent gave two shits about his well-being.
“I think I know something about that, too,” he told Scott, masking the venom in his tone, “and I’m telling you it’ll do me good to take some time for myself. Just a couple of days.”
Scott pursed his lips and looked at Brent, who just shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe he’s right,” he said. “You read my report. It could help.”
Scott said nothing and, in that moment, with Brent looking directly at him, Scott’s eyes became momentarily unfocused. For an instant his whole face looked unnatural, went slack in a way, as though he’d completely lost control of it. Jeremiah looked at Brent and saw a stunned surprise in his eyes. He’d seen it, too.
Scott smoothed his hair in a useless effort to hide what had happened. He hesitated and then looked back to Jeremiah with mild exasperation in his eyes.
“All right, Mr. Adams. A few days. That’s all. And I will have to insist that Mr. Higgins remain here during that time.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Jeremiah said for good measure. Inwardly he saw the benefit of Brent having to stay.
“You need to be monitored. I’m afraid that point is not open to debate.” He turned back to Brent. “Mr. Higgins, you will clear your schedule.”
“Of course. I’ll just go home to pick up a few things and be back within the hour.”
“One hour,” Scott told him. “No more.” He stood to leave and Jeremiah stood up, as well.
“Thank you, Dr. Scott,” he said, the words almost sticking in his throat, and with considerable effort he put out his hand to the murderous worm of a man. “I appreciate this.”
Scott shook his hand and took his leave without another word. Brent exhaled deeply and stared at Jeremiah.
“He is sick,” he said.
“I told you.”
“And you are good,” Brent added. “You just got two days off and all the time we need to see this through.”
Chapter 35
In less than an hour, Brent returned with a suitcase, a bag of burgers and two more bottles of whiskey. Jeremiah tore at the food, realizing as soon as he smelled it that he was ravenous again, despite everything. He’d been pacing the apartment since Brent had gone, a nervous ball of energy. He’d logged more time on that treadmill in the past forty-eight hours than he’d typically done in a week. Something in his stomach, he thought, might