The Recarn Chronicles- Omnibus Edition

by Greg Krojac

  “We’re going up to my penthouse offices now. The penthouse has probably one of the best views in the city. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

  The view from the penthouse was truly incredible. Most of central London was visible. Caitlin was enchanted.

  “This really is a magnificent view. It must look absolutely gorgeous at night.”

  Marcus moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her, his hands resting on her belly.

  He began kissing her neck and caressing her body. She let his hands roam up and down her body, enjoying what was going to be the last vestige of affection that she would allow him to give her. He drew his hands away, leaving his left hand resting on her hip. Caitlin could feel something hard pushing against the small of her back.

  “Hmmm. Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Caitlin, but it is, indeed, a gun. Your gun.”

  She went to turn round but Marcus’s free hand pushed her hard against the pane glass picture-window.

  “Don’t worry Caitlin. It’s specially toughened glass. It won’t break.”

  Caitlin started to panic. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. She was supposed to kill Marcus. That’s why she had hidden a glass gun on her person.

  “What are you doing? Let me go.”

  “What am I doing? I’m protecting myself, Caitlin. Did you really think that you could kill me and then get away with it?”

  Marcus was right about one thing. Caitlin hadn’t thought things through properly. Even if she had been able to kill Marcus, how did she think she would be able to escape? Michelle would never have attempted something like this without having an exit plan.

  “How did you know?”

  “I had my suspicions and the security beam confirmed it. It doesn’t only pick up metallic objects. I knew about the glass revolver.”

  “Why didn’t you stop me when you found it?”

  “What? And spoil all the fun? Now, take a seat while we wait for security to come and fetch you.”

  Caitlin made her way over to a plush armchair, under the watchful eye of Marcus and the revolver. Marcus leaned against the wall.

  “You know, it was a stroke of genius finding a glass revolver. Glass bullets too, I assume?”

  “Of course.”

  “Excellent plan. If it had worked, of course. But I get the impression that you’re surprised that I was ready for something like this. You shouldn’t be. Truth be told, I’ve known who you are all along. I knew that you’re involved – well, your father and sister are involved – with One Life. I knew exactly who you were when we met at that coffee shop in Covent Garden. It was no coincidence that the coffee shop was full and the only available seat was at your table. You’d be surprised what people will do for money. They’ll even fill up a coffee shop.”

  Eight security guards marched into the room. They looked very sinister, each wearing gunmetal grey helmets and body armour, dark grey fatigues and matching gas masks that denied any glimpse of the face behind them. Even the circular lenses that stood where their eyes should be, were darkened to protect the identity of the wearer. One of them handcuffed Caitlin, pulling her hands behind her back with no concern as to whether she was in pain or not, and then the eight guards left the office again, their prisoner helpless in the middle of the pack.

  CHAPTER SIX

  15:45 Friday 27 September 2069

  The heavy metal door may have been electrically operated but it still made a loud jarring noise when it slammed shut. It had been designed that way so as to increase the despair of the inmates. Everything that happened within the walls of Holding Centre HMP666 was designed to demoralise the inmates. It was known as the Devil’s Block but didn’t really warrant any special attention. The designation number of the holding centre was coincidental and all other centres were designed in exactly the same way and operated under the same rules. The holding centres were where offenders were sent if they had committed crimes that didn’t warrant State Termination. It wasn’t so much the length of detention that provided the punishment, but rather the humiliation and lack of dignity of the registration, processing, and internment of the inmates that provided the deterrent against reoffending.

  It was a very cost effective system too. A new inmate would be strip-searched by a warden, and then subjected to being scrubbed clean with soap and a scrubbing brush. This Victorian process was totally unnecessary; the most sanitary and efficient way would have been to bathe the prisoner in a beam of green light which removed all dirt and foreign bodies from the offender’s body. Of course, it still had a manual element to it, the source of the beam was a flexible hose that was manoeuvred around the body by a human operator, but this was a painless process that hurt only the dignity of the prisoner. However, this more humane process was only used for VIP prisoners and the bulk of inmates wore the scars of overenthusiastically applied scrubbing brushes.

  Once checked in by her captors, Caitlin was frogmarched into a bare room where seven other women were standing in a line. A plastic container, as yet empty, was positioned in front of each one. There was one box with no prisoner behind it. A tall wiry prison guard, with sergeant stripes on his sleeves, pointed to the empty space.

  “You, Makepeace. Stand behind that box.”

  Caitlin looked around her. She was the only other person in the room who wasn’t either a guard, or a prisoner standing behind a box, but the sergeant couldn’t have been talking to her; her name wasn’t Makepeace. The guard strode up to her and looked her right in the eye.

  “I said, Makepeace, stand behind the bloody box.”

  Caitlin did as she was ordered, muttering that her surname was Boone, not Makepeace. She looked along the line. Behind each of the women was a guard, a male guard. A female guard took her place behind Caitlin. The guard spoke again.

  “Right ladies. You are here to complete sentences of various lengths, according to your crimes. There is no remission for good behaviour. Bad behaviour does not exist here. You’ll see why shortly. Now, what I want you to do is to strip naked, and when I say naked, I mean naked. Not down to your bra and panties. Naked as the day you were born. Then you will be searched by the guard standing behind you.”

  One of the women in the line, an overweight woman in her mid-fifties, took umbrage.

  “Why does she get a woman to search her? It’s not right. I want a woman to do my cavity search too.”

  The guard in charge motioned to the man behind her and he struck his charge across her shoulders with his baton.

  “Stop whining. We’ve had special instructions to assign a female custodian to her.”

  Another woman, to Caitlin’s left, spoke up.

  “She’s right. It’s not fair. We should all have a female guard, or she should be made to have a male guard like the rest of us. What’s so special about her?”

  The sergeant went over to her and stared into her eyes from point-blank range.

  “You, prisoner, should think yourself very lucky. Do you know how much the guard behind you paid for the privilege to search and scrub you down? Half his yearly salary, that’s what. He’ll probably be a bit gentler with you, ‘cos he obviously fancies you.”

  The sergeant went back to his original position.

  “OK, ladies. Showtime. Take those clothes off.”

  Nobody made a move, which earned each of them, including Caitlin, a rap across the back with a guard’s baton.

  “I said now, ladies. Or do you want another slap.”

  Two of the women started to gingerly undress.

  “Come on the rest of you. You don’t want to upset me, do you?”

  The rest of the women, including Caitlin, followed suit, tossing their clothes into the box in front of them.

  “Now for the fun part. Bend over and touch your toes, or as close as you can get.”

  Reluctantly the women bent over as instructed.

  “Gloves on, gents and lady. And search.�
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  The overweight woman complained again, understandably.

  “Is this really necessary? Or do you just get your kicks by abusing us women?”

  “Both. We have to make sure that you have no foreign objects on you or in you.”

  The cavity search completed, the other seven women were marched into a side room. Caitlin was led into another room where she could see a flexible metal hose hanging on the wall. The female guard in charge of her looked at her with a wry smile on her lips.

  “Somebody must like you, dearie. A female guard to do your body search and now the beam-cleaner. You’re a right princess you are. Stand still, spread your legs and this’ll be over in a minute or so. And it won’t even hurt, not like your friends in the adjoining room.”

  She over-dramatically cupped a hand to an ear.

  “Can you hear their screams? That could’ve been you.”

  Caitlin was resigned to her fate now. There was no point in struggling. She was alone and nobody could help her.

  The cleaning process completed, the women were taken to a cell block. At least, it had been a cell block in a previous age. Now it was a repository containing about fifty transparent tubes, half of which were occupied by unconscious naked women covered in a thick viscous green gel. The sergeant returned.

  “Now ladies, this is what we call the stasis chamber. This is where you will carry out your sentence. You won’t notice it though because when your time is up, it’ll feel like you’ve just had a long night’s sleep, whether you’ve been in there for two months or two years. The beauty of this system is that we don’t have much to do except keep an eye on the stasis pods and check that they’re functioning properly. You’ll be fed via the placenta, that’s what we call that green muck that you’ll be covered in. It’s actually a cocktail of nutrients designed to make sure you don’t do something stupid, like die on us. Don’t ask me how it works. I don’t know and I don’t care. I do apologise for the next piece of information; you’ll have a couple of tubes inserted – I’ll let you guess where – to take away any waste products. It shouldn’t hurt though. That’s it then, until your release day.”

  Caitlin asked when her release date was going to be. Nobody had told her anything.

  “You Makepeace? You’re here until we decide to let you out. I don’t know what you did, but you must have pissed off somebody very important. A government minister, perhaps?”

  The pods were opened and the waste tubes were attached to each prisoner. They were uncomfortable but not actually painful. One by one, the women stepped into their designated capsule and the others watched as each pod was sealed shut. A liquid jelly-like substance was pumped into each chamber, causing mild panic amongst the women, until they fell unconscious from the sedative that formed part of the substance that now engulfed their naked bodies.

  Everybody safely trapped in their tubes, the sergeant followed his team out of the cell block and the door closed loudly behind them.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  23:24 Saturday 28 September 2069

  Karen’s mobile phone rang. She pulled it out of her jeans pocket and pressed the receive call button.

  “Hi, Caitlin. I wasn’t expecting to see or hear from you until tomorrow.”

  “I know. Sorry, mum. But my car has broken down and I need a lift.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know mum. It just kind of died on me.”

  “OK. No problem. I’ll just lock into the coordinates of your location and I’ll come and get you.”

  “Thanks, mum. How long will you be?”

  ‘Not sure. Maybe thirty minutes?”

  “OK. I’ll be here. I can’t exactly go anywhere. See you in thirty. Bye, mum. And thanks again.”

  Karen rushed out to her car and settled herself into the driving seat. She activated the self-drive function and entered the coordinates of where her daughter would be waiting for her. Pressing the ‘Drive’ icon on the control panel, the car suddenly accelerated and joined the main traffic flow, every vehicle driving at speeds that would have been unsafe for all except formula one drivers.

  ***

  Exactly twenty-nine minutes later, she pulled up alongside her daughter’s new but crippled car.

  “Hi, honey? I thought you’d be staying at Marcus’s place tonight.”

  “I was planning to. But I had to get away from him.”

  “I know, Caitlin. I hate it as much as you do. But it’s for a good cause.”

  “Well, I’ll be glad when it’s over.”

  Mother and daughter got into Karen’s car and sped off in the direction of the Boone family home. The journey was spent mainly in silence, except for a brief conversation about where to get the car repaired. The lack of conversation wasn’t because of any animosity, simply because Caitlin appeared to be weighing up something in her mind. About ten minutes away from home, Caitlin broke the most recent silence. She had been well briefed by Marcus.

  “I think I might give it a bit longer than a week.”

  “Really? I’m surprised. I thought you’d be dying to get away from him.”

  “I was. I mean I am. But, as you said, it’s for a good cause. The longer I keep seeing him the more information I might be able to find out. Plus, he is a really good shag.”

  “You’re still sleeping with him?”

  “I have to, mum. If I don’t, he’ll become suspicious and that could be even more dangerous for me. For all of us. So, I’ll have to keep lying on my back and thinking of England.”

  “Can we stop talking about sex with Marcus, please? I don’t like the idea of you still having to be intimate with that man. And I don’t like the word ‘shag’.”

  “That clone, you mean.”

  “OK. That clone.”

  “Mum, do you think it counts if you do it with a clone?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, it’s not really human, is it? Isn’t it like using a large, sentient, organic vibrator?”

  “As far as I understand, a clone is grown from a human cell. A human cell. So he’s human, isn’t he? He’s not built from components. He’s not plastic or metal.”

  “So, in your opinion, it counts then. That’s a shame. I’m still going to think of it as a giant dildo. It’s easier to deal with like that.”

  ***

  Karen was pleased when they arrived home and this awkward conversation could stop.

  They entered the living room, where Maurice was sitting in an armchair watching re-runs of old movies on Netflix.

  “Hi, honey. Hi Caitlin. I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

  Caitlin ran over and gave her father a big hug.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you home so soon, either. When did they let you out?”

  “Your mum fetched me this afternoon. But I’m under strict orders to take it easy and not exert myself. So, I can watch old movies all day and say that the doctor told me too. So what are you doing home so early?”

  “My car broke down and mum came out to rescue me.”

  “It shouldn’t break down that easily. It’s new.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Well, it’s nice to have you here for a change. Still, you don’t have to see Marcus for much longer, eh?”

  “The clone, dad.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. I think he’s hiding something big. If I stay a bit longer I’ll stand more chance of finding out what he’s up to.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, of course, if you can find out what he’s planning, then great. But I don’t want you to stay with him any longer than you have to. I don’t want you to take any unnecessary risks. Your sister gives us enough worries in that department. It’s a wonder I’ve never had a heart attack before.”

  “I promise that, as soon as I can, I’ll be out of there. Don’t worry too much about me. I know what I’m doing.”

  “It’s our job to worry about you, darling.”

 
; CHAPTER EIGHT

  04:11 Wednesday 2 October 2069

  Marcus rolled off Caitlin, lay the sheet over her naked body allowing just a glimpse of her cleavage to remain, and lay back looking at the ceiling. The bed was perfect, for both sleeping and making love, so why did he feel so unsatisfied after sex? He used all his experience to try to make the act more pleasurable, all his tricks and techniques, but it wasn’t the same. He looked over at Caitlin, her eyes starting to feel drowsy after the exertion.

  “I know it’s not your fault. But there’s something missing, something not quite right.”

  Caitlin sat upright on the bed, letting the sheet drop to her lap and exposing her breasts.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well you look like Caitlin, you sound like Caitlin, you feel like Caitlin, all your little nooks and crannies say that you’re Caitlin, but let’s face it…you’re not Caitlin. You’re a clone, just like me.”

  “That’s not my fault. Who was it who made me this way? You!”

  “Would you rather have been reincarnated into a strange body, in a strange land? You could have been a starving baby somewhere, one of those people you were in Africa to help. Instead, you were transferred into a clone grown from one of Caitlin’s cells. You were going to die, Philippa. You only had but a few months to live. The cancer was eating you away from within. You accepted the chance to be reincarnated into a clone. I didn’t force you.”

  “I only did it because I saw the chance to continue my humanitarian work. If I’d known you were going to blackmail me into doing what you want me to do, if you hadn’t threatened to torture and kill my parents, I wouldn’t have agreed to all this.”

  “Well consider yourself to be doing clonitarian work instead, if it makes you feel any better. Clonitarian. That’s good that is. I’ll have to remember that word.”