Popular Clone by M.E. Castle Page B

AGH in storage to the centiliter and noticed the missing quantity?
    Fisher’s heart stopped, and he began to stutter frantically. “I … I … er …”
    She put a hand on his shoulder.
    â€œWhen your dad and I were in school, we were just like you,” she went on, her expression softening. “And there were bullies and social orders then, just like there are now. But that doesn’t mean it’s okay to be skipping classes and coming home from school early. Don’t give me that look— Lord Burnside told us everything. I promise you, I truly promise you, that these things will get better as you and the other kids get older. And I want you to know that you can always talk to us about it. Okay?”
    The reassuring look she gave him was somewhat less effective with one of her eyes completely concealed behind an elaborate system of lenses and lights, which made her look like the world’s most technologically sophisticated housefly.
    â€œThanks, Mom,” he said. Of course she didn’t know about the AGH. How could she? “I think I’ll be all right. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to get back to work. Helps me keep my mind off things.”
    â€œOf course, Fisher,” she replied, straightening up. “I’ve got plenty of my own work to get to. Dad said he’d fix lunch at one, okay? Let’s hope he and the oven don’t get into it again. I think it’s been charring the meat on purpose—it’s still upset about what your father said about the broiler.” Fisher nodded sympathetically as his mom backed out of the room and closed the door. He breathed an enormous sigh of relief.
    Then he was back to work.
    Clone Log. Saturday, 10:00 a . m . Trying a new combination of the AGH and other chemicals. Confident this new combination will not result in fire.
    Clone Log. Saturday, 10:10 a . m . Confirmed, new combination skipped the fire stage and went directly to smoke. Previously untested laboratory venting system working very well.
    Clone Log. Saturday, 2:00 p . m . After time taken off from experiment to brainstorm and perform new calculations, have decided that formula needs more external stimulation for process to begin. Stand by.
    Clone Log. Saturday, 2:15 p . m . Preparing to apply stimulating electrical feed, after rerouting certain labora tory wires. Stand by for upda—
    The screen went black in the middle of his log entry. The lights followed. With all of his blinds closed, the room was plunged into darkness. Fisher heard FP’s hooves clicking as the pig jumped in surprise, then let out a squeak of fear.
    Fisher felt around for his battery-powered emergency light. Finding it, he flipped the switch. The light beamed on—directly into his eyes. Blinded, he stumbled backward just as FP crossed his path. He pitched over backward and lay in a heap for a few minutes.
    â€œI guess I’m lucky I’m short. I don’t have very far to fall.” He sighed. FP walked over to him and started prodding him with his nose. “And I’d have to rely on your snout-based first-aid skills.”
    Fisher pulled himself to his feet, walked to his door, and slid open a wall panel. Ever since his mom had caused a short circuit that set the living room couch on fire, each room in the Bas house had been connected to its own circuit breaker. Fisher switched the circuit breaker off, then on again, bringing his lights, equipment, and computer humming back to life.
    The power’s return made FP jump again, and this time he took off, landing squarely on Fisher’s head.
    â€œMmmn grrrnf,” Fisher said, reaching up to peel the terrified FP from his forehead. “Relax, boy. This isn’t that bad. Remember when Mom made that robo-teapot, and it was running around the house dousing everything with scalding-hot Earl Grey? That was scary.” FP shuddered a little bit, and Fisher put him down. “Now let’s