by Chewy Walrus
EPS headquarters, Chicago, Illinois, 2002:
Dr. Charles Elias Walker swallowed a few aspirin tablets and chased it with a tall glass of cool water. He had, for some odd reason, developed a terrible headache and needed a little something to soothe him.
He was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Enter," Walker said, rubbing his temples.
The metallic door slid away, revealing a young man in a blue bodysuit standing behind it: Andy Reynolds.
"May I come in... sir?" the rebellious seventeen-year-old said, struggling a bit with the last word.
"Certainly, son," Walker said, massaging his temples with his right hand and beckoning Reynolds to sit with the other.
"I'm not your son, y'know," Andy said as he slid into his seat.
"Yes, I know, Andy," Walker said, rolling his eyes slightly. "I've told you before, it's just a force of habit."
"Yeah, I know."
"So, what can I do for you, Andy?" Walker said, ignoring his head pain and steepling his fingers, ready to talk.
"Well, I just got back from feeding Euro..." Andy's voice wavered as Walker gave him a cold look. "I mean, Cicciotto. I just got back from feeding Cicciotto."
"And?"
"Well, he said something about his... son?" Andy says, obviously confused. "What's he talkin' 'bout, Doc?"
"Cicciotto is a deluded man, Andy," Walker said, no emotion in his voice whatsoever. "He's a crazy Italian meta who used to be somebody. He was a crack addict. He thinks that his little band of pathetic nothings is going to start a revolution. He's insane."
Reynolds cocked his head to the side, not understanding.
"His clone," Walker said. "He thinks his clone is his son."
"Wow," Andy whispered, his eyes getting wide. "What a nutjob!"
"Let me tell you something, m'boy," Walker said, running his hand through his brown hair. "This day in age is no time to father a child. They're nothing but trouble. Plus, with the metagene outbreak being what it is, chances are most likely that he'd be a meta." Which means we'd have to put him down, Walker thought to himself.
"I dunno, Doc," Reynolds said, rising from his seat. "I'd like to have a son someday. Obviously not right now, but someday. A LONG time from now. Maybe in another thirty years or so."
"Really now?" Walker said, raising an eyebrow.
"Jonathan," the kid whispered. "I've always liked the name Jonathan."