Reseña del libro "The Clone Who Loved to Fight (en Inglés)"
Cole was a Nesrady Clone, created by Dr. Escuniti to be almost identical to John and Aaron. Almost. "You didn't have to kill him, Cole." Roscoe was kneeling beside the dead Flic trying to find a pulse. "He saw us checking out the place." "So? I could have talked our way out of that." "I handled it." He had seen the Flic heading toward them, and the urge to fight him had taken over. Roscoe wiped the blood off his hands using the Flic's uniform. "Yeah, you handled it, Man. Now, we have to go tonight or give up on the job and run for it." "They'll miss him?" "Yeah, they'll miss him. Can't you control your anger? Even a little bit?" It was getting harder and harder since the headaches had started. The Flic was young, not much older than he was. He shouldn't have killed him, but he saw the fore-image of the Flic coming at him and then the real Flic was swaggering toward him. He'd thought about reaching for his knife, and then it sort of looked like the sparkly image of the Flic had gone for his pistol, and then he had been stabbing the Flic. He didn't know how many times he'd stabbed him, but there was a lot of blood. "I could have just punched him." Roscoe said, "Or just smiled and done nothing, and let me answer his questions." There had been other sparklies, other ways that it could have gone down. In most of them, the Flic had walked off. Roscoe was still glaring at him. Who the Hell was he? "Shut up! You shut up, or I'll cut you too, Feeb." He held the knife to Roscoe's throat. He could see the sparklies and Roscoe didn't try to hurt him in any of the paths. He should put the knife away, but he couldn't just yet. He pushed him against the wall. Roscoe didn't say anything. They just stood there, chest to chest. He could feel Roscoe breathing. He didn't want to hurt Roscoe. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and then another. He had to relax. He stopped shoving the knife into Roscoe's throat. He put it back in the sheath on his belt and stepped back. He should tell Roscoe he was sorry, but he couldn't just yet. Roscoe said, "We have to get the body into the woods." "Right. I'll do it." They hid the body under some brush. The sun was going down, but it was still hot. He was sweaty and his shirt was sticky with the young Flic's blood. Roscoe said, "Are you up for this tonight?" "Yeah. Sure. You figured out how to get in without setting off the alarms?" "Yeah. Come on. You need to change your shirt." He really did; the smell was getting to him. "Okay." It was finally dark, but Roscoe was totally quiet for once. "Is it time yet?" "Yeah, by the time we get there, it will be dark enough." He wanted to tell Roscoe he was sorry. "About the Flic." "Yeah?" "I shouldn't have killed him." "You couldn't help it." "No. But maybe I can try harder next time?" "Do that, Cole. Come on. All those credits are just waiting for us." The store wasn't very big, but it was chock full of Allied Defense goodies. They were lying on their bellies at the edge of the woods outside the fence. It was still hot and bugs were everywhere. The fireflies reminded him of the sparklies a little. He could see the shadowy after-image of the Flic heading to the back door and going inside. There were a couple of lights in the yard so he could see that Roscoe was staring at him. "Cole? Where's the Flic guard?" "Inside." He saw the first sparklies just forming that showed him coming out the door and heading off. "But he's coming out in a few minutes." Roscoe smiled at him. "Good. Then we timed it perfectly. Ready?" "Sure." He had never said how he knew the stuff he knew, and Roscoe had never asked. "You take my word for it?" "Sure do. I'll get the alarm as soon as he's out of sight." Roscoe was smart, but how could he know about the precog thing? Unless his brones, this Aaron and John, had the ability too? He had to move. He could feel one of the headaches coming on, and he would be helpless w
