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It should have been obvious right from the start.
He should have known when Beth said to him, “In many ways things will be like Season One, but more streamlined”.
Nobody said things like that! (Nobody except him, that is.) Nobody—because he was the smartest man in the universe—that’s why! Nobody else even came close.
And then Beth had included some bizarre word like “eschewed” in her stupid speech, prompting Summer to put in her two cents with a wicked grin, “You’ve never said anything like that! Maybe you are The Clone!” And Beth had simply shrugged and said, while grinning stupidly, “It’s not like Rick would tell us!” It was like he wasn’t even there, wasn’t in the room at all, hearing every single stupid word they said. And then everyone laughed like morons, as though she’d said the funniest thing in the word, and he was the butt end of some stupid twisted joke.
He should have known then.
He knew when he discovered Morty’s ‘body’---or rather, the robotic clone that resembled his grandson–lying on the ground in the backyard. Morty, it seemed, had fallen off the roof—and had landed pretty hard—but he wasn’t bleeding, or unconscious. Angry sparks flew from his damaged arm where carefully placed wires once had been.
At first Rick had (almost) panicked when he saw the body. Then he saw the sparks, the hole peeled open from Morty’s synthetic flesh: and he grew numb. His mind began racing, a million thoughts at once, dozens of questions without any answers. Where was Morty, then, if this wasn’t him? Who had built this Morty meat suit in such a Rick-like fashion? He could only imagine who would go to such troubling lengths to deceive him, and why…. He was suddenly sweating bullets.
Slowly and gingerly he bent to pick up the damaged robot boy in his arms, making sure to cradle him gently against his chest (just in case there might be any secret explosive device hidden inside).
To his relief, the house was eerily empty. Nobody was anywhere to be seen. The house itself was as quiet as a tomb.
Rick went straight from the backyard into the garage and, with the motionless lifelike machine in his arms, descended immediately down to his once secret subterranean lair.
He placed the “body” carefully on a clean sterilized surgical table. Without a second to spare, he grabbed his tools and began to dissect and analyze the remains, searching methodically for anything unusual that could indicate where this masterfully built robotic specimen had come from.
He worked feverishly into the evening hours….
Until, quite suddenly, it dawned on him like a thunderbolt:
Morty would have NEVER just snuck his portal gun like that.
Morty didn’t have the guts.
Someone—without Rick’s knowing—had swiftly and seamlessly replaced his grandson with a robotic Morty clone. Someone that, unbeknownst to Rick, actually somehow had the same technology….someone who must have known the complete protocol of Operation Phoenix, which Rick had thought only he had access to—and Rick could only imagine that anyone who could do such a thing had to be insanely smart….possibly (almost) as smart as him….
…. but who ?
* * *
In the end, he did not find a single piece of evidence. He sewed the boy up, healed him, and brought him, “unconscious”, back upstairs to the garage.
He stood back and waited while the other finally came to.
“....R-r-r- Rick ?” Morty opened his eyes, let them flutter aimlessly. He blinked and looked around slowly.
Even down to the stutter…. Rick had to work hard to hide his amazement. (Whoever was responsible for this creation had nailed it, down to a T.)
Gruffly, he automatically extended his hand to Morty for a hand up---while Morty stupidly remained on the ground, recalibrating while blinking at him in complete and utter confusion.
“Rick—” Morty stammered, “Wha-what am I doing in the gar-garage—?”
“...You fell asleep, dumbass.” Rick didn’t bat an eye.
“--But—”
“Shoo.” Rick shuffled him out the door while Morty clumsily regained his footing.
“But, Rick—!”
“I’ve got work to do.” Rick shut the door abruptly, at once returning the room to a cloak of silence.
Finally, alone in his garage, he poured himself a flask-full, and sat down to think.
Whoever this was, they were crafty as fuck. They knew who he was—as well as how powerful—but, they were under the impression they were more powerful than him, Rick Sanchez, smartest man in the universe ... .They thought they could win.
They were playing a game of chess with him, always one step ahead—and in an unsettling way, they were right about winning—because here he was, several steps behind, playing catch-up while they took the reigns….while behind the scenes, they were cunningly preparing him for something. Something unknown. Something big….something that could happen at any given moment and change everything. And Rick had no idea what that something could be—but what he did know was, whatever it was, and whoever it was, this time , it was going to be different. He’d do whatever it would take to save them all.
This time, he’d be ready.