Tedd and Todd's secret (19 page)

"Don't worry about that. The pills will help you sleep and tomorrow we'll start working on the problem. You've got to trust me."

"Thanks, doctor. Until tomorrow," Allan stammered, as he stumbled out into the dark.

"You don't have to thank me. Look after yourself," Stark called after him, thanking his good luck for having brought Allan White to him.

Wilfred Gord waited a few seconds before he reacted to Aidan's suggestion. He wasn't batting an eyelid, his hands weren't trembling. He was so still, in fact, that Aidan thought for an instant that he'd died there and then, in front of him, and that gave him a strange sensation. A short while before, when he'd come round and discovered his hands tied, he'd fancied the idea of killing the old invalid in his bed as payback for having him kidnapped. But now, after having talked with the old man, he wasn't just intrigued, he was desperate to hear everything that Wilfred knew about the Blacks and Whites and, more importantly, about him.

"No, you're mistaken," Wilfred said finally. "You're nobody's clone. There's only one Aidan Zack, and that's you."

Aidan Zack ignored his fear.

"Are you sure? It would explain my recovery well enough."

"It's a great flight of your imagination," Wilfred complimented him. "You must have a special type of intelligence to accept a conclusion like that. It could have served us very well, later on. But no, it's not the truth. Your name, for example, is Aidan. And none of the clones are anything like you."

"Who are they? You know, don't you?"

"Unfortunately not," Wilfred confessed. "I've carried out an investigation and although I haven't had much time, I've found out quite a lot."

"Why are they fighting? And why are they using these strange weapons?"

"I still haven't got those answers. I'm counting on your help to find that out. We know they're organized in two gangs and they're killing each other–"

"No kidding," Aidan said, cutting in. "I'll bet one of those gangs is called White and the other Black. Am I right? If that's all you've found out it doesn't surprise me that you need me."

"They use medieval weapons," Wilfred continued, unruffled, "and one of the most curious details in the whole affair is that none of them have any family."

"William Black was married," Aidan corrected him.

"Blood family, I mean. None of them had brothers or sisters. They're all orphans. They've got that in common, apart from the strange coincidence of their names."

"No children?"

"No. They're sterile. We've analysed the small amount of medical information available, and some of them have tried to have children in every way possible and got nowhere. Only one of them had a child, which surprised us, but when we analysed the DNA, we found that his wife had been cheating on him and got pregnant by a lover."

Aidan thought it through.

"That's weird. Trying to have children and not knowing they're sterile."

"They are. Believe me. But if that isn't enough, there's something to top it. Their lives are invented."

"What?"

"It's all false. I've spent a fortune on this investigation, not only of them, but of anyone connected to them. The results are staggering. Nobody has seen any one of them before five years ago. Their friends, wives, husbands, lovers, have all surfaced since then."

"You mean there's not a trace of them before then? Their studies, for example. And if they were orphans there'd be a heap of information about that. Adoption certificates, adoptive parents, etc. What have you found out about their bank accounts, financial transactions? There's always something."

"Nothing. Absolutely, zero. Nothing going back more than five years. If you talk to them, naturally they mention their childhood, their teenage years, as if everything was totally normal. But if you check it out, you come to realize that it's a whole lot of crap. My theory is that the memories are implanted. They really believe that they've lived those lives."

Aidan was getting more confused. He should have been getting somewhere with all of this, but to the contrary, he was going backwards. Even with the new facts, the possibility of a logical explanation seemed further away than ever.

But he felt a lot better about himself knowing that he really was Aidan Zack, and unlike this circus of clones, had a verifiable past and parents who loved him. He felt a sudden impulse to be with them now. He hadn't seen them for more than a year.

"Let's look for an explanation closer to reality, otherwise I'll go mad," he despaired. "Perhaps, they lived those lives and someone's deleted the records. It'd be easier to do that than implant false memories. As far as I know that's still not possible."

"It's obvious that we have to question what is and what isn't possible," Wilfred suggested, "with the facts as they stand."

"Tell me something. Do you know how many different models there are?" Aidan asked. "I've identified three, although I haven't seen replicas of one of them, a bloke who disappeared down a street after I crashed into someone else while I was chasing him."

"There are four men and a woman. They've all been copied, although their numbers differ. The most typical model is William Black. James White is like him. There are at least ten of these blokes running around. Or to put it better, there were ten."

"What about the bodybuilder?" Aidan enquired.

"There's four. You've already seen Earl White at the mortuary. Helen Black killed him after fleeing her wedding ceremony. There's only one more of that model left, Earl Black. Jack Black and Jack White were killed a few years back. You can get more on that down at the police station if you don't believe me."

It had been a while since Aidan had doubted what Wilfred said. It was possible that he could be mistaken, but it didn't come down to lies. He believed what he was saying. And maybe it was because of that, that Aidan felt everything seemed so absurd, so unreal.

Thinking about Earl Black was like taking a leap into the great unknown. He excited Aidan's curiosity more than most.

"Have you discovered anything to do with teletransportation?" Aidan asked, as if the question was normal.

"I beg your pardon? Did I hear you correctly?" Wilfred said, leaning forward as if to hear better. "No, nothing. But I'm intrigued. What made you bring that up?"

Aidan told him about Earl Black's sudden appearance in the ladies' toilet after failing to stop a penalty kick in a football game the other side of town. He told him about witnesses in both locations and then watched Wilfred go through the details like Fletcher had that morning, working his way back to nothing.

"It's very complicated, I'm afraid," Aidan complained. "It doesn't make sense."

"We've got to keep at it and not give up," Wilfred said defiantly. "It doesn't stack up as the sort of thing you could work out in a couple of hours of idle chat."

"You seem to be taking this all in your stride, Wilfred. Personally, it's driving me crazy. If I was any one of these clones, I'd keep my name to myself. I wouldn't just live a normal life, waiting for one of these bastards to cut my head off. The same goes the other way round. I can find them too easily."

"I've already thought the same thing," Wilfred admitted. "One theory I've got is that they act the way they do for one of two reasons. The fact is they don't know they're part of any gang."

"What? That's crazy. If someone's trying to kill me with a sword or shoot an arrow into my heart he has to know why he's doing it. And I'd have to know too."

Wilfred went on.

"I don't believe that they know that they've got a double out there, wearing another colour, running around killing people. It's like their past lives, they think they're normal. They simply don't know. That's why they want to have children. The whole deal changes when they run into one of the others and the penny drops."

"I must admit that explains why they are so careless, though it sounds a little incredible," Aidan said in a low voice. He was trying to assimilate all the information he had just received. He felt desperate about being unable to make conclusions on a logical basis. "You have overwhelmed me with mystery. I just need to know a couple of details more. Why did you get involved in all this? How did you get to know about me, and about the Blacks and the Whites?"

"My father told me," was the dry answer.

"Your father is alive?" Aidan asked. He would never have thought it could be possible, considering Wilfred's age.

"Alive and in a top form. He is twenty years old."

"It was silly of me to ask," Aidan complained, suppressing an impulse to make Wilfred repeat his last words. "Why don't we ask him what is the secret of his miraculous top form?"

"I understand your distrust," Wilfred assured him with the expression of a person who had had the same experience. "It was difficult for me to accept that my father is fifty years my junior, but it is true."

Wilfred told Aidan how he had met his father three months ago. The same day he had received confirmation that his life would soon be over and that his cancer was in an advanced state. Then Ethan Gord appeared out of the blue and told him what anyone who didn't know his father would love to hear. The news was difficult to accept. However, Ethan mentioned a great number of details about Wilfred's mother and past. Ethan had never known that this one-night-stand girl had had a child. When he came to know he had a son, he was already involved in the mystery they were talking about and he couldn't reveal details about it. He had taken the risk only in order to help Wilfred be cured.

Aidan listened carefully without missing a single detail. He couldn't stop his face revealing some distrust and anger. He was sure the old man was taking his own words as truth, and worst of all, he trusted him.

"If I understood it right," Aidan said, "your father found a method to cure any disease and remain young. He might have discovered the Holy Grail. And, since you are dying, he decided to help by putting you on the track of those Black and White guys who fight with medieval arms, and he told you to look for me. He didn't say anything more because he had to keep the secret, otherwise he's facing a great danger. Am I leaving something out?"

"I can understand that sarcasm might help you to accept it," Wilfred said in a serious voice. "Otherwise it is quite a decent summary. You should realize it isn't just an ordinary case like the ones you are used to."

"I am already thinking that I'll never understand it."

"That's a good start. I'd like you to free yourself from prejudice and open your mind. I haven't told you the worst yet."

"What else have you got?" Aidan asked, exhausted. "It can't be any crazier than what you've just told me."

"Your link to all of this. That's something I don't think you'll want to hear."

The comment broke his exhaustion. "Tell me."

"All of this had a beginning. Like I told you their lives before that moment were false, but from then on they're not. The curious thing is that everything we know about them begins from the exact same date."

"You've lost me. Which facts are you talking about and what's it all got to do with me?"

"Patience," Wilfred advised him. "Their first bank account, first home, that's what I mean by facts. All that stems from the same moment for all of them."

"That's weird."

"It's the same day Big Ben broke down. The chiming went crazy, the needles spun out of control. The clock stopped for a day. All of that was very strange. The clock still doesn't work like it used to, ever since that date, and no one knows why."

"It's strange. But not that strange."

"No? It happened exactly five years ago, on this same day. Doesn't that strike you as odd? Doesn't today mean something to you?"

Aidan clenched his fists. "It's the day of the accident," he said, remembering the car hitting the water. "Are you sure about this?"

"I wouldn't say it if I wasn't sure. I'm sorry."

"But this means my wife's death is involved in all of this. It can't be. Why?" he shouted, standing up and throwing the chair into the wall. The door swung open and the two bodyguards rushed in, their guns drawn, only to see Aidan smash the chair to splinters on the floor. Wilfred gestured for them to go back out. "I want to clear this up now."

"Listen," Wilfred said. "We're in the same boat. We've both got our reasons for getting to the bottom of this. We've got to work together."

"Why not? I could use your help."

"Sure," Wilfred agreed. "Whatever you need. You could do with a new car for starters. You'll have it when you leave. And I suggest you see James White first. I've got his address. I know you couldn't locate him this morning."

"How do you know where he is? Anyway I've got something else to do first."

"One of my men has been following James White since he left hospital. I insist that that's your next move. Leave your wife's death to later. Perhaps, it was you they wanted to kill in the first place."

"Or both," Aidan thought aloud. "Can I count on your support?"

"Of course. I've told you we both want the same thing."

"Ok, this is what we're going to do," Aidan said. "Tomorrow I'll go and see James White and find out what he knows. I want your men to follow Bradley Kenton. I want him followed from the moment he sets foot outside the jail, and I want to know when he's alone."