Chapter 9 - The Other AlexanderThe gun was pointed at my father.
Not me.
The man looked at him with hatred.
"You promised you'd tell him."
My father stared.
"You're alive."
The man laughed.
"That's all you have to say?"
I couldn't move.
My entire life had been built around believing I was an only child.
Now another man stood in front of me wearing my face.
He was older.
Perhaps thirty-five.
There was a scar across his jaw.
But the eyes were mine.
The nervous gesture was mine.
Even the way he held his shoulders.
I whispered:
"Who are you?"
He looked at me.
"Your brother."
Mara stepped between us.
"What is your name?"
He smiled bitterly.
"They called me Subject Zero."
I stared.
My grandfather's voice came through the speakers.
"Zero was the original."
My father shouted.
"Arthur, stop!"
My grandfather ignored him.
"Alexander, you were the successful version."
I felt sick.
"Successful?"
"Zero was unstable."
The older man raised the gun.
"Because you kept me in a cage."
My father whispered.
"We didn't know..."
"You knew."
The room fell silent.
Mara looked at me.
"He's the fifth baby."
I shook my head.
"My father said he died."
"He lied."
The older man looked at me.
"Your father lied because your grandfather ordered him to."
He tossed a folder onto the floor.
Birth records.
Photographs.
Medical reports.
The truth.
Five surviving children had existed.
Four were placed into Mara's care.
One was taken.
The fifth was raised underground.
And another revelation appeared on the final page.
SUBJECT ZERO IS THE ORIGINAL GENETIC TEMPLATE.
I looked at him.
"You were first."
He nodded.
"Before you."
My stomach turned.
"If you're first, why do I have your face?"
"Because you're mine."
"What does that mean?"
He pointed at my bloodied hand.
"You inherited what they wanted from me."
"What?"
"Memory."
The room went silent.
I suddenly remembered something.
A hallway.
A locked door.
My grandfather's voice.
I was five.
A boy stood on the other side of the glass.
Same face.
Same eyes.
He was crying.
I had forgotten.
No.
I had been made to forget.
I staggered backward.
"You knew me."
Zero nodded.
"You were the only person who ever visited."
"I don't remember."
"They erased it."
"Why?"
"Because you kept asking why your brother lived in a cage."
My grandfather's voice interrupted.
"Enough."
The speakers shut off.
The older man stepped toward me.
"You need to know something else."
"What?"
"The boys aren't just genetic copies."
He looked at Milo.
Then Mason.
Then Max.
Then Micah.
"They're carriers."
"Of what?"
Zero smiled.
"The same memory pattern I have."
My blood ran cold.
"What memory?"
He leaned close.
"The memory of what your family did."
Suddenly, every monitor in the facility turned on.
Thousands of files appeared.
Names.
Dates.
Children.
Hospitals.
Payments.
Politicians.
Doctors.
Judges.
Evidence.
My family had been running Project Echo for decades.
And someone had copied the entire archive.
"Who did this?" I asked.
Zero looked at me.
"I did."
"Why?"
"Because I knew you would eventually come back."
"Why did you bring me here?"
He lowered the gun.
"Because there is one thing my grandfather never told you."
"What?"
Zero's expression changed.
"The project isn't about creating children."
"Then what is it about?"
He looked at the four boys.
"It's about replacing people."
Behind us, one of the laboratory doors opened.
A suited man entered.
Brielle's father.
Charles Cartwright.
He looked at me calmly.
Then he smiled.
"Alexander."
He glanced at Zero.
"Good."
May you like
Then he raised a gun.
"We finally have both brothers."
