The Recarn Chronicles- Omnibus Edition

by Greg Krojac

  “Nothing will make me feel better. How do you think I feel, deceiving that poor family? They look at me and they see their own daughter. It’s horrible.”

  “It’s what’s keeping your mother and father alive. I didn’t waste my time and money training you in how to be Caitlin for the fun of it. I want information. One Life has infiltrated my organisation for years. It’s only recently that we’ve been able to weed out the last of the SIMPs.”

  “SIMPs?”

  “It’s what they call Recarns who are sympathetic to the One Life cause. It’s about time that the tables were turned.”

  The Caitlin clone felt depressed. She was trapped. If she didn’t bend to Marcus’s will – even sexually – Philippa’s parents, her parents, would be tortured and killed. She loved her parents and couldn’t bear to think of any harm coming to them. She brought the subject back to its original subject.

  “Try to forget that I look like Caitlin. I’m me. I’m Philippa. I’ll never be Caitlin. But don’t try to tell me that you love her. If you loved her you wouldn’t have killed her or had her locked up somewhere.”

  “Locked up somewhere. She’s locked up somewhere. Uncharacteristically soft of me, I know, but I couldn’t kill her.”

  “So you do have feelings then. I never took you for a romantic.”

  “OK. Enough. Turn over and show me your arse. I fancy some doggy.”

  “Piss off Marcus. I’m not your slave.”

  “Actually, Philippa, you are my slave. You truly are.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  06:45 Thursday 4 October 2069.

  Marcus slid out of the bed. Philippa was back at the Boone house. If she was to discover anything useful, then she couldn’t spend all her time with Marcus. It was a fine balancing act; she had to spend enough time with Marcus, for One Life to think that she was spying on the Illuminati chief, yet spend enough time at the Boone’s place and especially in Michelle’s company, to be of any value to Marcus.

  He admired himself in the full length mirror of his apartment. He was a fine specimen of a man and was very pleased with his choice of body. He looked towards his groin. Morning wood. And nobody to make its presence worthwhile. He looked up again, staring himself in the eye.

  “You know what you could do with, Marcus, my man? No, Marcus. Tell me. Marcus, my friend, you could do with a bloody good shag. Not Philippa, no. She’s good as a stop-gap. She does her best, but she’s not Caitlin. You need to fuck Caitlin. The real Caitlin. Not some clone who looks like Caitlin. That’s what you should do. Go and fuck Caitlin’s brains out. You need to fuck Caitlin’s soul.”

  He hurriedly got dressed and called for his chauffeur to bring the car to the apartment. This demand automatically fired his elite bodyguard into action. To the outside world, Marcus would look like any other high-flying businessman travelling around the city in his bullet and pulse proof car. Nobody would be aware of the dozen or so men tracking his every move, each one willing to give up his life for him if necessary.

  ***

  After about an hour, Marcus was sitting in the reception area of HMP666. Nobody knew that he was the Pindar but everybody at the holding centre knew that he was a VIP who was exceedingly generous with gratuities. For the kind of money that Marcus was prepared to throw their way, each and every member of staff was prepared to accede to his every whim. In this instance, this meant transforming an interview room into a cosy and comfortable room for a romantic meal for two. The interview table was covered with a tablecloth, curtains were hastily tacked up to cover barred windows, and the two simple chairs were replaced by a couple of chairs borrowed from the Governor’s residence. The Governor even supplied a couple of long-stemmed candles to enhance the atmosphere. The wiry prison guard arrived with Marcus.

  “Sorry it’s not exactly the Ritz, but it’s the best we could come up with at such short notice. She has to stay on site, you see. Only the Prime Minister could authorize her release.”

  Little did he know that he was talking to the most powerful man in the world, the man who could have each and every one in the holding facility terminated, or all the inmates released if he so desired. A man who could imprison the Prime Minister within its walls, if he so desired. Taking Caitlin out of the facility would be a formality for Marcus, but he knew that it could compromise his identity if he demanded such favours. Plus, whilst she was in the holding centre, he knew where she was at all times and there was no chance of escape.

  ***

  In another part of the building, the nutritional placenta was being drained out of Caitlin’s pod, a process that took about three minutes. Two female prison guards supported her as the vital signs monitoring wires were removed. Caitlin was placed clumsily on a table, face down, waste tubes still attached, and the prison guard who had performed the strip-search and the cleansing when Caitlin had arrived, clearly a sergeant if the chevrons on her uniform sleeve were to be believed, put on a pair of latex gloves. She deftly removed the two waste tubes from Caitlin’s body, a task that she had obviously performed many times before. The guards rolled Caitlin back onto her back.

  “Right then, princess. Time to wake you up.”

  One of her colleagues passed the sergeant a syringe containing a clear purple liquid, and the guard injected the serum into Caitlin’s thigh.

  “Ready everybody?

  Five…four…three…two…one...there she blows.”

  On the count of five, Caitlin suddenly sat bolt upright, opened her eyes, and started coughing. The sergeant offered her an oversized cup of water, which Caitlin snatched at, pouring the refreshing liquid half down her throat and half over the top half of her body. She held out the empty cup.

  “More. More.”

  Another cup of water was provided and Caitlin gulped that one down too, this time actually drinking all the liquid. The sergeant took the now empty cup away from her.

  “Nasty aftertaste, that placenta, eh? Or so I’ve been told. Never been in stasis myself. I’m a good girl, I am. The plugs we put in your mouth, nostrils, and ears are supposed to keep the messy stuff out but there’s always a little bit that slips through.

  “Anyways, you’ve got a visitor, Makepeace. An important visitor. He’s got a romantic treat in store for you.”

  Caitlin didn’t like the sound of that. She didn’t have a boyfriend. She had a boyfriend in the past, Marcus, but then she’d found out the truth about him. But, it had to be him. Who else knew that she was there? She was ushered into another room, where she was bathed – delicately – as if the guards actually cared about her. Of course, they didn’t care one iota about her but they did care about the value of the bribes that they had received. After being cleaned up, she was allowed to clean her teeth. What a luxury! At last, she could get rid of the remnants of placenta taste that still hung around in her mouth, overpowering the bad taste with a generous helping of mint flavoured toothpaste.

  A box containing an elegant evening dress of shimmering burgundy was brought into the room. One of the female guards held it up to her own body.

  “Dibs on this one when she’s done.”

  The sergeant gave her a glare loaded with authority.

  “If anyone’s having that dress, it’s going to be me.”

  “You? You’d never fit into it.”

  “I can diet.”

  “It’s the perfect size for me.”

  The sergeant took the dress from her colleague.

  “Well, nobody’s having it at the moment. Makepeace, put this on. The rest of your clothes are in the basket in the corner.”

  There wasn’t a lot there. The clothes that were there were certainly not hers. She had no choice but to put on a bra that was a little tight, and an equally uncomfortable pair of panties. The sergeant tossed the dress to her.

  “Now the dress.”

  Caitlin did as she was told and slid into the dress. Unlike the bra and panties, the dress was a perfect fit. She looked gorgeous, or at least she would have, had her hair been b
rushed and had she been wearing make-up. The guard who had wanted the dress passed her a brush.

  “Sorry, no make-up. But you have a beautiful face, you don’t really need it.”

  The sergeant stood in front of her.

  “You’ll do. You’ll have to do. This isn’t exactly a beauty salon here. Come on, let’s go and meet your beau, Makepeace.”

  Caitlin reluctantly followed the sergeant along the corridor. She would have loved to have made a break for freedom, but where could she go? There was no escape. In addition, she was flanked by the remaining two guards. She had no choice but to do as she was told.

  Two minutes later the group entered the interview room where Marcus was patiently waiting. He pulled out a chair for Caitlin to sit on. She faltered but sat down. Marcus turned to the wiry guard who was still hovering around as if he had nothing to do.

  “Can you light these candles please?”

  “Sorry, Sir. I can’t do that. Against regulations. Could be used as a weapon, sir. Against you, sir.”

  Marcus would have loved to overrule the man, but it just wasn’t worth the trouble. He sat down at the table himself, and a delicious looking Chinese meal was brought in. The local Chinese takeaway was used to delivering food for the holding centre staff and found it a little unusual when the most expensive items on the menu were requested, but it wasn’t their place to worry about such details. They just enjoyed the additional income.

  Marcus looked curiously at the cutlery.

  “Plastic knives and forks? Really?”

  “Regulations, sir.”

  “Stuff the regulations. Bring me a proper knife and fork.”

  “I can’t, sir. I want to, but I can’t. Regulations, sir.”

  Marcus wasn’t happy with the limitations but stopped complaining.

  “Regulations. Very well. You may leave now. And turn off that damned video camera. I want some privacy here.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  The guards left the room and made their way to the viewing gallery, where a large TV screen showed everything that was happening in the interview room. Marcus looked into one of the four cameras.

  “The red light’s still on. Turn the bloody cameras off.”

  The wiry sergeant pressed an icon on the interview room control panel and the red lights on all the cameras turned off.

  “Cameras turned off, sir.”

  The cameras were indeed turned off and were sending neither video nor audio to the giant screen. However, this was not the case for the four hidden backup cameras that the Governor had secretly had installed the previous year. The Governor slipped silently into the viewing gallery and joined his staff. He whispered to the guard nearest him.

  “Have I missed anything?”

  “No, sir. The show’s just about to start.”

  There was now a large group of men and women huddled in front of the TV monitor.

  In the interview room, the conversation was stilted, as may have been expected. Standard ice-breakers such as ‘do you come here often’ and ‘how was your day’ were clearly inappropriate. Marcus decided to start with an apology.

  “Sorry that I had to have you imprisoned in here, but you left me no choice. You were going to try to kill me, after all.”

  The audience murmured. Caitlin sat down on the other chair. There seemed little point in staying standing, and she was still a little tired after having been in stasis. Her opinion of Marcus hadn’t changed.

  “I wish I had.”

  The audience gave a gasp. They had no previous idea what Philippa Makepeace’s crime had been. Attempted murder was a serious one. She was lucky that she hadn’t been terminated. Marcus continued.

  “I had no choice, Caitlin. You gave me no choice.”

  The audience looked confused. Caitlin? That was Philippa Makepeace in there, not somebody called Caitlin. Still, who cares? The show had only just begun.

  “Fuck off Marcus.”

  The audience was once again confused. Surely the man in the interview room was Peter Jones, not Marcus.

  “Look, I can’t let you out of here, but I can make your life easier.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  The female sergeant spoke up.

  “The princess has it easy enough as it is. She had me to check her bits and pieces, not one of you degenerate perverts. And she was cleansed with the beam-cleaner. Can’t get any cushier than that.”

  In the interview room, Marcus was doing his best to keep the conversation going.

  “Eat your food, Caitlin. It’s top quality.”

  Caitlin looked at the food. It did look delicious, and she was hungry, but there was no way she was going to share a meal with Marcus.

  “Fuck you, fuck the food, and fuck everybody here.”

  The audience murmured again. This was getting interesting. The girl had spirit.

  “Caitlin. There’s no reason to be obnoxious. It’s not going to help at all.”

  “Oh, really? Well, I’m sorry your highness. I don’t feel like being friendly. Did you think that you could come in here, buy me a meal, and that I’d fall into your arms?”

  “Well, you did love me once.”

  “Did. Did. Maybe I did love you. But now I just pity you, you with your big houses, your fast cars, and your big, fat wallet.”

  The audience had to agree with the last statement. He had severely overpaid the prison staff for setting up this rendezvous. Caitlin was on a roll.

  “You’re pathetic. You have all the power anybody could ever want. You can get anybody to do anything that you want. You can go anywhere you want, whenever you want. You can buy anything and almost anyone you want.”

  “Almost?”

  “Yes, almost. Because you know what, Marcus. Because with all your money and power there’s one thing you can’t buy, Marcus. Me. You can’t buy me. You can’t have me.”

  “Really? I can have you anytime I want, Caitlin. Anytime I want.”

  Marcus stood up, his chair falling to the floor. He grabbed Caitlin by the hair, dragged her off her chair, pushed her against the wall of the room and held her by the throat, her body tense against the wall. He spat in her face.

  “We’ll see who can’t have you.”

  The audience was transfixed by the events developing before them. The wiry sergeant turned to the Governor.

  “Should we go in and help?”

  “Help who? Her?”

  “No, him.”

  “She’s just come out of stasis. She’s still weak. He won’t need any help. Plus, if we go in there, he’ll know we’re watching.”

  The two men returned their gaze to the screen and continued watching. Marcus had now dragged Caitlin to the table and tried to force her to bend over it, and she was resisting with all the strength she could muster. But the time spent in the stasis tube was beginning to take its toll and soon she no longer had the strength to fight anymore. Marcus pushed the now pliable woman onto the table so that the edge of the table dug into her belly and forced her to bend over. He pushed her head down onto the table top and delivered her a painful kidney punch.

  “I learnt that one from Grimes, the slave overseer. Now let’s see you try to stop me.”

  Holding Caitlin’s head down with one hand, Marcus lifted up her dress, revealing her ill-fitting panties.

  “Right, bitch. Here comes Marcus.”

  He tore at the panties, trying to get them to rip. It always seemed easy in the porn movies that he watched, but in real life, it wasn’t proving to be so easy. Still restraining her, he slid her panties down her legs until they dropped onto the floor and he kicked them away with his right foot. He unfastened his own trousers, hooking his thumb over his underpants at the same time so that when the trousers fell to the floor, his boxer shorts fell with them.

  The audience couldn’t take their eyes away from the spectacle. The female sergeant nodded admiringly.

  “Nice arse.”

  One of the other guards butted in.


  “His or hers?”

  “Both. I swing both ways, don’t you know.”

  As Marcus forced himself inside Caitlin, the audience chanted in time as he thrust his manhood back and forth.

  After a few minutes, his face grimaced and he let out a roar. The audience cheered and shouted in unison.

  “The money shot!”

  Marcus buttoned up his trousers again, made himself more presentable, and banged on the door with his fist. The door opened and the three women who had brought Caitlin to the interview room prepared to take her back to her stasis capsule. The sergeant looked at Caitlin and then turned to Marcus.

  “We’ll have to clean her up. Can we scrub her?”

  His appetite satiated for the moment, Marcus shook his head.

  “No. Use the beam-cleaner. I don’t want her skin covered with scratches.”

  “But the bloody nose is OK though.”

  “Sorry? Did you say something?”

  “Me, sir? No, sir. Beam-cleaner it is.”

  After five minutes of cleansing, and her face washed off with water, Caitlin was placed back into the capsule, wires reattached, waste tubes reconnected, and the level of the nutrition placenta quickly rose to cover her completely.

  The sergeant gave her one final look and left the room.

  CHAPTER TEN

  07:29 Friday 25 October 2069

  Philippa had won a small victory against Marcus. He had stopped calling her Caitlin and was using her real name. When someone quite literally has the power of life and death over you, you take any small victory that you earn and grab it with both hands.

  Hearing Marcus use her previous life’s name meant a lot to Philippa. She felt more human. She knew that she was an artificially produced copy, not even a copy of her own previous incarnation, but now she felt a link with her past and that she hadn’t stolen somebody else’s identity. She looked nothing like she had in her past life when she had been a fuller-figured brunette but it’s what’s inside a person that is important, not the appearance. She would have loved to have looked like she did before cancer had riddled her body, but Caitlin was also a very attractive woman in her own right and this softened the blow of Philippa’s soul occupying the cloned body of someone else.