I was having a crappy day today and my mom and dad surprised me with Avatar! :D Love you, Mommy and Daddy!

The Ugly Truth

23

"Well, that's going to have to wait," the clone snarled.

Dr. Wolfe glanced at his creation's bleeding wrist. "What happened to your wrist?" he asked.

"That doesn't matter!" Quaritch boomed, yanking himself away from the scientist. "I have to help the Na'vi!"

Dr. Wolfe roughly grabbed the clone by his shoulders, shaking him. "Just l-listen to me," he whispered. "This is very important. This is why you are here."

Quaritch looked at the smaller man, his eyes darting around his face. "Doc?" he whispered, feeling the blood roll down his fingers.

Dr. Wolfe took in a breath through his nose, releasing the clone, slipping the hands down his arms, and gripping them gently. "Son, I understand that this may be difficult to understand at first, but just listen," he breathed. There was a long pause. "You are a clone."

Quaritch allowed the words to sink in. He looked at the scientist, breaking away from his touch, stepping away. "W-wait," he stammered. "I-I-I'm a clone?"

Dr. Wolfe nodded his head solemnly. "Yes, son, you are," he stated. "You are a clone."

Quaritch dropped into a leather seat, looking off blankly into the distance. Dr. Wolfe, however, continued: "The real Miles Quaritch was killed ten years ago by the Na'vi. About almost seven years ago Selfridge offered me good money to clone Quaritch—you. The real you was a heartless tyrant that never cared about the Na'vi. Everyone knew that you were a clone, but all this time we were lying to you. The main reason why Selfridge hates you is because you care for the Na'vi. I was hired to create you. You were the best clone I ever made, but you were not to Selfridge's liking. Once he found out about you and the Na'vi—yes, I knew, too—he wanted you dead. Several times Selfridge asked for me to decommission you, but I could not do that to you. You are a person. You are different from the real Quaritch, yes, and Selfridge did not want that." He paused. "Son, how are you?"

Quaritch's eyes were dark and distant. He hung his head, looking at his bleeding wrist. Blood crusted over on the wound. He was a clone. He was made in a lab. He was cloned after Colonel Miles Quaritch, the Na'vi-hating heartless man. All this time, he thought he was that person. He had hellish nightmares about what the real Quaritch had done.

He was not that man.

He was just a copy.

The clone grinned, his eyebrows knitted tightly; he looked quite mad.

I'm not that man.

Quaritch then laughed loudly. Dr. Wolfe looked at the man like he was insane. The clone glanced up, smirking broadly. "I am not that Quaritch," he stated, pointing to himself. He stood up, beaming like the sun. "This is wonderful! I'm not him! After all this time, I thought I was this horrible person, but I am not him!" He roared with laughter. "I never have to listen to that bastard Selfridge!" He placed his hands on the scientist's shoulders. "Thank you so much, Doc. Thank you for that."

Dr. Wolfe smiled widely. He was gladdened that his creation took the news well. "You're welcome, son," he breathed. He glanced around. "Okay, you want to help the Na'vi?"

"More than anything," Quaritch stated.

Dr. Wolfe broke away, going to a metal file cabinet, shuffling through the paperwork. "I have the duct systems all mapped out," he stated. The scientist pulled out a folded sheet of paper, throwing it on the desk.

Quaritch took the paper, unfolding it. There, before him, was the whole map of the ducting system. Dr. Wolfe joined the clone, pointing at the map. "Here, this is where we are," he announced. "Take out a piece of paper."

The clone's eyes darted over the desk, and took a tattered piece of paper. He grabbed a pen, looking at the map. Dr. Wolfe then stated: "Okay, first go straight, then you make a right, then make a left. After at, make another left, then go straight all the way. Then you go left, then right again. You'll be in the AMP room."

Quaritch wrote down everything that he had said. "Okay, thank you," he breathed. "Thank you so much."

Dr. Wolfe glanced up, smiling softly. "Of course, son, and I'm so sorry for everything," he stated.

The clone nodded, patting the scientist's shoulder. "I forgive you, and I forgive Rajian," Quaritch breathed. "But I've got to warn the Na'vis."

The heavy-set scientist nodded. "Understandable, but here," he breathed. He went to a drawer, shuffling through the papers. He found a flashlight, and tossed it to the clone. "Take this."

Quaritch caught the flashlight, and smirked. "Thank you," he breathed.

Dr. Wolfe nodded, and watched as the clone crawled back into the ducts. God send, son. Quaritch turned on the flashlight, and looked at his directions. He crawled through the tight metal ducts, slightly cursing to himself. His wrist had stopped bleeding, but it ached. After what appeared to be twenty minutes, and found the AMP room. It was cleared out. No machines. No people.

Blackwood lied. They were on the attack.

Quaritch jumped onto the floor, and found his AMP. Fkeu Tsamsiyu. He went to his AMP, rushing as fast as he could. His limbs ached, his wrist throbbed. But he did not care. Tu'sky was his only care in the world, along with the other Na'vi people. He found his AMP, and strapped in. He did not care about humans calling him a traitor.

He was a traitor after all.

And I don't give a rat's furry ass.