“And if I get the high card we try for two out of three,” Cloud said.
Jared smiled. “That wouldn’t be very sporting, now would it. Are you ready?” Cloud nodded. “Draw,” Jared said.
Cloud drew an eight of diamonds; Jared drew a six of clubs. “Damn,” Jared said. He pushed his cards over to Cloud.
“Who’s the dead relative?” Cloud asked, taking the cards.
“It’s complicated,” Jared said.
“Try me,” Cloud said.
“It’s the clone of the man whose consciousness I was created to house,” Jared said.
“Okay, so you were absolutely correct about this being complicated,” Cloud said. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you just said.”
“Someone who is like my brother,” Jared said. “Someone I didn’t know.”
“For someone who is just a year old, you lead an interesting life,” Cloud said.
“I know,” Jared said. “It’s not my fault, though.” He stood up. “I’ll catch you later, Lieutenant.”
“Oh, stop it,” Cloud said. “Give me a minute to take a leak and we’ll go. Just keep quiet when we get to the transport and let me do all the talking. And remember if we get in trouble I’m going to blame it all on you.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Jared said.
Getting past the transport bay crew was almost ridiculously simple. Jared stuck close to Cloud, who ran through his preflight check and consulted his crew with businesslike efficiency. They ignored Jared or assumed that since he was with Cloud he had every right to be there. Thirty minutes later the transport was easing its way down to Phoenix Station, and Jared was showing Cloud that he wasn’t actually very good at losing at Texas hold ’em. This annoyed Cloud greatly.
At the Phoenix Station ground port, Cloud consulted with the ground crew and then came back to Jared. “It’s going to take them about three hours to load her up,” he said. “Can you get to where you’re going and be back before then?”
“The cemetery is just outside Phoenix City,” Jared said.
“You should be fine then,” Cloud said. “How are you going to get there?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Jared said.
“What?” Cloud said.
Jared shrugged. “I didn’t actually think you’d take me,” he confessed. “I didn’t plan this far ahead.”
Cloud laughed. “God loves a fool,” he said, and then motioned to Jared. “Come on, then. Let’s go meet your brother.”
Metairie Catholic Cemetery lay in the heart of Metairie, one of the oldest neighborhoods in Phoenix City; it was around when Phoenix was still called New Virginia and Phoenix City was still Clinton, before the attacks that leveled the early colony and forced humans to regroup and reconquer the planet. The earliest graves in the cemetery dated back to the early days, when Metairie was a line of plastic and mud buildings, and proud Louisianans had settled there with the pretensions of its being Clinton’s first suburb.
The graves Jared visited were on the other side of the cemetery from the first line of the dead. The graves were marked by a single headstone, upon which three names were engraved, each with their separate dates: Charles, Cheryl and Zo? Boutin.
“Jesus,” Cloud said. “An entire family.”
“No,” Jared said, kneeling down at the headstone. “Not really. Cheryl is here. Zo? died far away, and her body was lost with many others. And Charles isn’t dead. This is someone else. A clone he created so it would look like he had killed himself.” Jared reached out and touched the headstone. “There’s no family here.”
Cloud looked at Jared kneeling by the headstone. “I think I’ll take a look around,” he said, trying to give Jared some time.
“No,” Jared said, and looked over. “Please. I’ll be done in just a minute and then we can go.” Cloud nodded in assent but looked toward the close-by trees. Jared returned his attention to the headstone.