The Mirror Man, стр. 87

Parker stared at Jeremiah for a long moment.

“They’re going to make a clone of me?” he asked, a conflicted smile spreading across his face. “An actual clone?”

“Yeah,” Jeremiah told him, still unsure of how his son was taking the revelation. “That’s all this world needs, right? Two Parkers.”

“And he takes my place, like at school and everything?”

“That’s right,” Jeremiah said.

“Why can’t the clones leave? I mean, I don’t know if I want to leave school and all my friends. I don’t want to leave everything. Maybe we could stay and send them somewhere else.”

“I know it’s hard, Parker,” Jeremiah told him. “I know. But it’s the only way this can work.”

“But that’s where Mom was, Dad. It’s our house. We can’t just leave.” Parker looked again as though he were trying not to cry. Jeremiah felt instantly guilty for not considering that aspect. He’d been trying to treat it like an adventure, like a game. It wasn’t a game to Parker. Jeremiah was asking him to leave the last place he’d had his mother. It was a heartless thing to do.

“I’ll have someone go to the house for a few things,” he told his son. “Some photographs, maybe a few personal things for you to hold on to. Any ideas?”

Parker shrugged and considered it. “Her hairbrush, maybe? Or one of those bracelets she liked?”

“We’ll get both,” Jeremiah said, looking to Scott for some assurance. Scott nodded, a look of slight irritation flashing over his face.

“Okay,” Parker said reluctantly. “I guess so.”

“It’ll be okay, Parker,” Jeremiah told him. “You’ll see.”

“Well, at least there’s one good thing,” Parker said.

“What’s that?”

“At least the clone will have to take my French midterm.”

Jeremiah smiled. “I suppose he will,” he said, and he stood up to walk with his son to Pike’s lab. He was eager to get a look at his son’s clone, which had been in incubation for forty-eight hours, grown from a few cells from Parker’s cheek at school as part of a bogus health screening.

Scott stared at him. “You can’t be present for the Meld, Mr. Adams. You know that.”

“I don’t need to be in the same room,” Jeremiah said, “but I want to go with him.”

“Even your proximity could threaten the purity of the download,” Scott told him. “We need to be precise about this. It’s the final step.”

“I don’t feel right about this.”

“This is the way it must be done,” Scott said. “Besides, you’re needed here. You are to meet with our agent in charge of your new identities. There are matters you need to discuss before the proper documentation can be fabricated. Once that has been completed, you and your son will be free to go directly after the Meld process. We are seeing to the final details as we speak.”

“That can wait.”

“No, it cannot wait,” Scott said firmly. “We’ve gone to great lengths to procure this agent from the FBI. He’s taking a considerable risk even being here. Time is of the essence, you understand. You have my word, Mr. Adams. I will return your son to you safely. It shouldn’t take more than an hour. Two at most.”

A thin, serious-looking man, dressed in a dark-colored suit, entered the room behind Scott. Jeremiah would have pegged him for a federal agent a mile away. He might as well have been holding a sign that read Secret Agent.

“Is there a problem?” the man said, casting a dire glance at Charles Scott.

“Not at all,” Scott assured him.

“Look,” the agent said, this time to Jeremiah, “we do this now or we don’t do it at all. It’s your choice.”

“I’ll be fine, Dad,” Parker said. “I’m not afraid. And to tell you the truth, I sort of want to get out of here as soon as we can. This whole thing is sort of freaking me out. You take care of that agent dude. I’ll go and do this.”

Reluctantly, Jeremiah allowed Parker to go with Charles Scott. As he headed out the door, though, Parker stopped suddenly and turned back to Jeremiah.

“Dad,” he said. “Are we going to get Louie? We can’t just leave him there. We have to take him with us.”

Jeremiah turned the question back to Charles Scott with an urging glance.

“Your dog? I don’t think that would be a problem,” Scott said. “I’ll dispatch someone to your home to collect him and the mementos from the boy’s mother. The dog will be waiting for you after the Meld.”

“I’m Agent Glen Jasper,” the agent said once Scott and Parker had left. “We have a lot to do and not much time to get it done.”

“Jeremiah Adams,” he said, shaking the man’s hand.

“Not for long you’re not, sir. I’m here to change that.”

Jeremiah hadn’t even begun to consider new names. With everything else he’d had to contend with, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. But the enormity of the decision suddenly weighed on him. This was important. Whatever names he chose now would be with them for the rest of their lives, might influence, in a way, everything that came after. Jeremiah sat down slowly and started to think. He wished he’d thought to discuss this with Parker. It would have been nice to ask for his input on something so fundamental as his name. But now there wasn’t time. He had named his son once, he decided, he’d just have to be trusted to do it again.

“Some people find it helpful,” the agent offered, “to retain something from their original name in the new one. Samuel Johnson, for instance, might become John Samuelson. In my experience, it makes the transition a little easier.”

Something in that logic appealed to him, and Jeremiah mumbled out loud as he worked out variations in his mind.

“Adam Jeremiah... Jeremy Adamson... Jeremiah Parker... How about Adam Parker for my son?”

“Adam Parker,” the agent said, spelling it out as he typed it into a laptop. “And a middle name?”

Jeremiah hardly had to think before he said it.

“Brent.”

“Adam Brent Parker,” the agent repeated as