THE DEAD COPY

THE DRAIN

The fluid poured from the tanks like black tears.

Elliot watched in horror as the copies inside began to convulse, their bodies jerking against the glass. The monitors flickered with warnings—neural activity spiking, vitals crashing.

"Stop," Elliot shouted. "You're killing them."

The general stood by the console, his cold blue eyes fixed on the tanks. "They were already dead. They just didn't know it yet."

Adam's voice screamed through the earpiece. "Elliot, you need to stop the drain. The copies won't survive without the fluid."

"How?"

"The main console. There should be an emergency shutoff."

Elliot ran to the console. The screen glowed with data—tank levels, neural readings, a countdown timer. 3:47. 3:46. 3:45.

He pressed buttons. Nothing happened.

"The system is locked," Adam said. "You need the general's authorization."

Elliot turned. The general was walking toward the door.

"General."

The man stopped. "Yes?"

"The shutoff. Now."

The general smiled. "Or what? You'll shoot me? We've been through this."

Elliot raised his rifle. "I'll shoot you."

"You won't. Because if you do, the copies die anyway. The system is programmed to release neurotoxins if the drain is interrupted."

Elliot's finger trembled on the trigger.

"Elliot, don't," Adam said. "He's telling the truth."

The general walked out the door.

Elliot stood alone in the vault, surrounded by dying copies.

The countdown timer flashed 2:15. 2:14. 2:13.

"We need another way," Frank said through the earpiece.

"There is no other way."

Elena's voice came through. "There might be. The vault has a secondary power source. If you can cut it, the drain will stop."

"Where?"

"Sub-basement. Level B2. There's a junction box."

Elliot ran.

The sub-basement was dark and cold.

Elliot's boots echoed on the concrete stairs. The walls were lined with pipes and cables, humming with power.

Level B1. Level B2.

The junction box was on the far wall, behind a metal grate.

Elliot pulled the grate open. Wires—red, black, green. He didn't know which one to cut.

"Adam, which wire?"

"The red one. But it's live. You'll need insulated gloves."

"I don't have gloves."

"Then use your shirt."

Elliot tore a strip of cloth from his sleeve and wrapped it around his hand. He grabbed the red wire.

The shock threw him across the room.

He lay on the floor, his body numb, his ears ringing.

"Elliot. Elliot, can you hear me?"

Frank's voice. Distant.

"I'm here."

"The drain. It stopped."

Elliot pushed himself up. His hand was burned, blackened, but he could still move his fingers.

He limped back to the vault.

The tanks were still.

The copies inside floated motionless, their eyes closed. The monitors showed stable neural readings.

Adam's voice came through. "You did it. The copies are stable."

"How many did we lose?"

"I don't know yet. The fluid drained from some of the tanks before you cut the power."

Elliot walked through the rows. Tanks with black fluid still inside—copies alive. Tanks with empty glass—copies gone.

He stopped at a tank in the corner. A child floated inside, no older than ten. Her eyes were closed. Her face was peaceful.

"How old is she?" Elliot asked.

"Her file says she was created twelve years ago. She's been in stasis for the last eight."

"Can she be awakened?"

"Yes. But she'll need time to adjust."

Elliot pressed his hand against the glass. "We'll take them all. Every copy in this vault."

"There are hundreds, Elliot. We don't have the space."

"Then we make space."

The extraction took the rest of the night.

Marcus's team carried the tanks up the stairs, one by one. David and Lily loaded them into the vans. Charlotte monitored the copies' vitals.

Frank stood beside Elliot, watching the work. "The general got away."

"I know."

"He'll come back."

"Let him."

Elliot looked at the vans. At the copies they had saved. At the child in the tank, still sleeping.

"We need to find out where he's going."

Adam's voice came through. "I've been tracking his communications. He's heading to a facility in the mountains. The same one we hit before."

"Why would he go back there?"

"Because it's not empty. There are copies there. Copies he's been saving for himself."

Elliot's heart sank. "How many?"

"Dozens. Maybe more."

"Then we go after him."

Frank shook his head. "We can't. We have hundreds of copies to transport. We don't have the manpower."

"Then we split the teams. Half go back to the base. Half go after the general."

"That's suicide."

"Maybe. But we don't have a choice."

The drive to the mountains took six hours.

Elliot sat in the back of the van, staring at the map. Frank drove. Adam navigated.

The facility was dark when they arrived.

Elliot climbed out of the van, his rifle raised. The buildings were empty. The guards were gone.

"He's not here," Frank said.

Elliot's blood ran cold. "Then where is he?"

Adam pointed to the road leading up the mountain. "There. Tire tracks. Fresh."

They followed.

The road ended at a cliff.

Elliot stood at the edge, looking down at the valley below. The general's facility was there—the one they had raided weeks ago. But it was different now. New guards. New cameras. New defenses.

"He's rebuilding," Frank said.

"He's preparing."

Adam spoke through the earpiece. "I'm picking up neural signatures. Dozens of them."

"The copies?"

"Some of them. Others are... different."

"Different how?"

"Enhanced. Stronger. Faster. The general has been experimenting on them."

Elliot looked at the facility. At the guards. At the cameras.

"We need to get inside."

"We can't. Not with this many guards."

"Then we wait."

The sun set behind the mountains.

Elliot lay on the ridge, watching the facility through his scope. The guards patrolled in pairs, their flashlights sweeping the darkness.

Frank lay beside him. "What are we waiting for?"

"A weakness."

"There is no weakness."

"There's always a weakness."

Adam's voice came through. "I've found something. The facility's power grid is old. It wasn't designed for this level of security."

"Can you shut it down?"

"Maybe. But I'd need access to the main breaker."

"Where is it?"

"South side. Behind the generator building."

Elliot looked at Frank. "I'll go."

"No—"

"I'll go. Cover me."

Frank grabbed his arm. "If you die, the copies die with you."

"Then I won't die."

Elliot ran.

The generator building was dark.

Elliot moved through the shadows, his boots silent on the gravel. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their flashlights sweeping.

He waited for a gap. Then ran.

The door was locked. He pressed the device against the scanner. The lock clicked.

Inside, the main breaker. A row of switches, labeled in a language he didn't understand.

"Adam, which one?"

"The third from the left."

Elliot pulled the switch.

The lights went out.

The facility was chaos.

Guards shouted. Flashlights flickered. Elliot moved through the darkness, his rifle raised.

Frank's voice came through the earpiece. "The main entrance is clear. I'm coming in."

"Cover the east side. I'll go for the copies."

Elliot reached the sub-basement. The tank room was dark, lit only by the glow of the monitors.

The copies floated in the fluid, their eyes closed, their faces peaceful.

He walked to the main console and inserted the drive.

The data began to download.

"Elliot, you have five minutes," Adam said.

"I need ten."

"You have five."

The progress bar moved. 10%. 20%. 30%.

The door opened behind him.

Elliot turned.

The general stood in the doorway, his cold blue eyes fixed on Elliot.

"You again," the general said.

Elliot raised his rifle. "Let the copies go."

"No."

"Then I'll shoot you."

"You won't. Because if you do, the copies in this room will die."

Elliot's finger tightened on the trigger.

"Don't," Adam said through the earpiece.

Elliot lowered the rifle.

The general smiled. "Wise choice."

He pressed a button on the wall.

The tanks began to drain.

Elliot ran to the console. The emergency shutoff was locked. He needed the general's authorization.

He turned. The general was walking toward the door.

"General."

The man stopped.

"The shutoff. Now."

"Or what?"

Elliot raised his rifle. "I'll shoot you."

"You won't."

Elliot fired.

The bullet hit the general in the shoulder. He staggered, his hand going to the wound.

"The shutoff," Elliot said. "Now."

The general pressed a button on his wrist. The drain stopped.

The copies were safe.

Frank found them in the tank room.

The general lay on the floor, his shoulder bleeding, his face pale.

"Secure him," Elliot said.

Frank pulled the general to his feet.

"Let's go."

The drive back to the base was long.

Elliot sat in the back of the van, watching the general through the window. The copies were in the other vans, safe, sleeping.

"The general is in custody," Adam said through the earpiece. "His facility is secured."

"The copies?"

"All stable. All alive."

Elliot closed his eyes.

"Thank you," he said.

"Don't thank me yet. We have a long way to go."