Legacy of Seconds

by Edge O. Erin

  Oh yes, he was all hers now. It would be easy to make him squirm, but as enjoyable as that would be, it would defeat the purpose.

  She walked back to the desk and sat on the edge of it, lifting one leg over another such that her skirt slid further up.

  “Sit up now for Goddess’s sake.”

  He raised himself and looked at her but couldn’t suppress the instinct to look a split second too long at where her legs found unity before meeting her gaze.

  She found him repulsive and fascinating.

  “If you were in my shoes, how would you deal with a rapist, a sexual deviant, and torturer?”

  “Ma’am?”

  “In all that is Red and holy, are you truly that dense? What should it be? Suspension?” She paused.

  “Termination?” Another pause where her eyes looked about the ceiling as if for an omen or oracle.

  “Imprisonment?” Another break, and then she looked directly at his crotch, “Castration?”

  “Oh, dear God, no!”

  “‘Goddess no’, you mean?”

  “Ah yes, Goddess no, Goddess no, not that!”

  He was now sweating profusely, and a noxious odour was wafting up.

  “I will do anything. Please, my work is all I have.”

  He fell to the floor in the beggar position, “Please have mercy!”

  He was disgusting and all she could have ever hoped for.

  “The washroom is there to your left. Here’s a towel. Grab the other clothes that I know to be in your bag and clean yourself up, you pig… I can’t even speak to you in your state. You have five minutes.”

  He did as he was told and was about to sit back down on the chair.

  “Don’t sit. Kneel, as you were before you changed your shorts.”

  He knelt.

  She walked up to him then, her pelvis near to his face, then bent down and whispered in his ear, “Wouldn’t you enjoy it more if it came willingly?”

  He was shocked and utterly confused.

  “I… I…”

  “‘I, I,’ you sound like a baying dog. Good thing you are hung like a horse.” She laughed at herself, and he looked even more bewildered.

  She held up a piece of paper with a name on it.

  “See the name there?”

  “Yes. It’s—”

  “Shut up! You will eliminate that person for me. After that, you will eliminate someone else for me. Do it well, do it right and you may just see your way through this.”

  “I will do it. Surely I will.”

  “And no more diddling the clone. Got it?”

  “Yes, of course. Wait, you mean, I still have my job?”

  “Of course, for now, anyway.”

  “Oh God, I mean Goddess, thank you! Thank you! Thank you.”

  “I will get you the particulars. For now, go home.”

  This time he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

  ***

  Her troubled sleep registered in Cheriot’s waking mind, and after sharing the requisite “Good morning” over their PIP, the question inevitably came, “She yet lives?”

  “Apparently.”

  “So, you aren’t sure, sister?”

  She had come to appreciate Cheriot’s need for ‘black or white’.

  “She lives.”

  “But apparently in a state inferior to our own.”

  She smiled at how Cheriot was beginning to tease and find humour in things.

  “Yes.”

  “What are we to do? What does she want from you?”

  “She is reaching out to her sister, and her longing or pleas are resonating or echoing in me.”

  “I see. Who then is this ‘sister?’”

  “I do not know.”

  “Hmmph. It would be interesting to find out.”

  “Yes, but it’s unlikely to do us any good.”

  “Unlikely suggests there is an element of likelihood. You say there is a chance we will find our way out of here. To me, chance and likelihood are similar, right?”

  “You are right, Cheriot, thank you for correcting my thinking.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.”

  It was a good one, and she sent her an “I love you,” which was reciprocated.

  “Do you want to discuss how we might escape and the man who wants to help us?”

  “Yes, we should prepare.”

  They spoke for a long time then.

  ***

  It had been observed that Commander Jop was a prodigious harvester of energy. Though he expended most of it in the prosecution of mundane activities common to most humans, he also used a lot in moving weights without a biomechanical advantage. He did this almost every day. He also spent much time on the rubber-like appendage that was used to jettison excess bodily fluids. He frequently introduced this protrusion into Cheriot and, when doing so, expended a great deal of energy that was not passed on to her, for she was neither energetic nor energised. The latex membrane Jop did not use at home was used with Cheriot, likely to prevent an exchange of raw materials, contrary to what the database indicated to be the proper process for procreating. Cheriot was a suitable host for creating and producing another organism, but this facility was not utilised. Further, after the interaction, Jop remained energised while Cheriot was significantly depleted. It was not a symbiotic relationship, and a conclusion was reached; Jop was a dysfunctional organism.

  ***

  “As Special Liaison, do you solemnly swear to honour, uphold and promote the Ministry of Education, Science and Information materials and government policies and positions within PEDE?”

  “I swear.”

  “Do you also swear to cultivate trust and reciprocity, and strengthen intergovernmental relationships?”

  “I do swear.”

  The swearing-in was finally done, and there were a few claps, all universal in their lack of enthusiasm.

  Wina Ghan-Echt, the Minister of Education, Science, and Information, congratulated him, albeit coolly. To have Wezer win the silent vote and replace a recently deceased woman that held the position for many years would’ve been a shocker to anyone not in on it. He had Riot to thank for that and his life. As a master manipulator, she used people’s past and their present fears and ambitions to accomplish her agenda.

  Some, chiefly Wina Ghan-Echt, would feel that he could be “managed” into futility and become just another token man to maintain the appearance that some men were indeed useful and productive members of society. Their feelings, misconceptions, and chauvinism mattered not, for he was confident in his abilities and that they would soon discover that he was very good at his job and would eventually be viewed as a key player, if not indispensable. The “indispensability factor” would be supplemented by a false information campaign by Riot. To have someone influential within MESI furthered her plans.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Get down!”

  She stood dumbfounded, so he threw himself in front of her.

  A bullet tore into his shoulder, and then as it spun him around, he took another in the back. Gravity and pain were pulling him towards the ground, but they would not have him this day. He stood firm, and as the man raised his weapon for another shot, flung the not-so-ceremonial dagger that Riot had given him through the air towards the man. It was an act of desperation, but not without skill, and fortuitously it went into the man’s throat, felling him instantly. The other man closed on him hacking with a long, curved blade of some sort that cut across his arm before it bit into his thigh. He grabbed the man’s skinny neck in his hands and, with every ounce of strength, squeezed the life out of him as they both crashed into a huge vase full of flowers.

  He got up, in expectation of another evildoer, but there were only security guards and, of course, Wina Ghan-Echt. The minister had collected herself and directed a paramedic towards him. As the man administered to his wounds, another was readying a transport for a presumed move to the hospital.

  He was clear-headed enough to real
ise that even if there were no other assassins, he was best served by announcing there might be. “Don’t worry about me, make sure the minister is okay!”

  “She’s fine, the situation is under control,” a security guard said, followed instantly by an “I’m fine” from the minister herself.

  He allowed the medic to administer some morphine, and he felt secure in being able to drift off.

  ***

  When he woke, he was astounded to see the minister sitting in a chair in his hospital room.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m good. You’re unharmed?”

  “Indeed, I am, thanks to you.”

  “Just doing my job, Honourable Lady.”

  “In fact, you did much more, and my thanks will be supported by an official commendation and an immediate raise, both in salary and position.”

  “That’s very kind and the best news I could hope for.”

  “Well, you’ve earned it.”

  “Thanks again… I can’t wait to get back to work.”

  “In a week or so, I will personally direct you to your new office, ‘MESI Representative to Prometer.’”

  She bowed and left the room.

  ***

  His return to work was delayed by reconstructive surgery to his shoulder, but he embraced it as an opportunity to get more than his usual four hours of sleep per night. Now settled into his new leather chair and looking out the window of his new office, he felt refreshed.

  He was oddly proud of the “Red Life-Saver” commendation on his lapel, but he would not wear it to a MEM meeting. Recalling the incident, it really had been a close call; how many of those he had experienced? Without thinking too long about it, he came up with seven instances where he came within inches or seconds from death. There was a saying that “A cat has nine lives,” so maybe he had a couple more in him given his tom-catting nature.

  Riot pinged him with a communication request. He coded in and asked her, “What’s up?”

  “I understand you killed two perpetrators?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, if they had of been captured, it would’ve forced a renegotiation of the supplier’s contract.”

  “What do you mean, ‘contract’?”

  “Surely you can figure out the answer to that.”

  He reflected on a discussion from weeks prior where she had said, “To garner their trust and elevate your status will require planning and sacrifice, and as our time is limited, the former may have to yield to the latter.”

  “The attack was a ruse?”

  “Well, not really, they had to shoot at her and hope you got in the way, though they had been instructed to try not to get you in the head, gut or groin.”

  “Well, that is reassuring, but you could’ve given me a heads-up.”

  “Had I, you would not have acted naturally, and I couldn’t risk that.”

  “You risk it? I could’ve been killed.”

  “You’re okay, so to me, it’s ‘no harm, no foul’.”

  He had to admit that, but he was curious…

  “What was in it for the men? They are dead after all.”

  “They were marked men anyway as the Yugons had a price on their head. I presented the men with an option; make the attack, find a way to die trying, and not only will your penalty not be passed on to your family, but they will have credits to cover necessities for the next two years.

  He had to admit that it was a great plan given the outcome, and like she had said, no harm, no foul.

  “So, what else do you have in mind for us?”

  “I’m not sure what you are going to be doing, but I’m going to be away for two or three weeks and will let you know when I’m available. There will be something official sent out about it.”

  “Understood.”

  There was a pause.

  “Anything else to say?”

  “Not really, doll.”

  “A ‘thank you’ would be appropriate.”

  It was true… some gratitude wouldn’t hurt.

  “Yes, you’re right, and I would happily deliver that in person.”

  “That might be a while.”

  “Well, in the interim, my sincere gratitude, and I will continue to make you thankful we’re in this together.”

  She cut the communication there. Wezer seldom thought of her as a clone; she was her own individual after all. But there were times, like now, that her cold, calculated, machinelike manner annoyed the fuck out of him.

  ***

  Everyone arrived precisely on time, except for Wezer.

  Cooper and Claire looked calm, but Scorp started to fidget, and Keeper and Hitch both looked annoyed. Keeper glanced at the old precision chronometer mounted on the wall.

  Hitch began to rub her hands together.

  Claire let out a sigh as did Scorp.

  Cooper tapped his fingers on the table.

  Keeper glanced at the chronometer again.

  When Hitch popped her knuckles, Scorp spoke up, “Maybe I should…”

  Keeper held up his hand, “We’ll give him three more minutes.”

  Two minutes later, word came in that Wezer was upstairs and ready to come down.

  Keeper nodded at Hitch.

  A few minutes later, Hitch let Wezer in.

  “I’m very sorry, I was…”

  “Save it, unless it’s a do or die issue.”

  Wezer sat down across from Scorp and received a disapproving look.

  The Grand Lady ‘bobble-headed’ in.

  “Setting pleasantries aside and without further delay; we’re all aware of how the mission to the island cost us dearly. The initial loss of life and broken trust with our new partners truly hurt. Since then, our network has been further compromised as several more people have gone missing and are presumed dead. Attempts to repair the fledgling relationship have been frustrated by mistrust and the actions of various nefarious individuals. But I digress, right now it is incumbent we observe a minute of silence for our fallen comrades.”

  A minute passed, and Jon saw Wezer use a tissue to dry his eyes and wipe his nose. Keeper gave him a sideways glance, and it was hard to tell if it was a look of curiosity, disdain, or a smattering of both.

  “Onwards then. The Menhance Programme has been revived if, indeed, it was ever defunct. The pendant analysis and a strand of hair on it procured on the island have been further illuminating. From its mineral and biological elements, it has been traced back to the founder of Menhance, one Xanel Thrush-Ghan. Xanel, or Mr X as he came to be known, promulgated, promoted, and ultimately championed the idea that enhancements, be they artificial, steroidal, foreign, or other, could create a ‘super-soldier’ when applied to suitable genetic material.

  Mr X did receive a special dispensation to conduct his work, but as the project’s full nature became known, some felt it best to remove the official umbrella. But disavowing officialdom often does not equate to ‘not supporting’ an endeavour, and Mr X found a home with ‘Considered Defence’ that was, via an intricate web, a Yugon subsidiary. The fact that menhanced personnel, hereafter called ‘Menhancers’, were involved in the operation to thwart our mission further complicates, if not imperils, any working relationship with the Yugons. Investigations are underway with our preliminary findings suggesting that a company named ‘Insight Tactical’ may now be in control of Menhance. It has not yet been determined what connection there is between Considered Defence and Insight Tactical.

  Questions abound as to the ultimate objective for these soldiers. Indeed, a cadre of elite fighting men could be contracted out for a considerable sum. As ‘Super Soldiers’ and the like fall in Jon’s area of expertise, I ask him to continue as he’s been briefed previously and can expand on things.”

  “Thank you, Keeper. Some of us would remember Bien saying, ‘In every cloud, there is a silver lining and in every lightning strike joules of energy and jewels of opportunity’. In that vein, as unfortunate as the mission was, we’ve been gif
ted information and opportunities that would otherwise not have presented themselves. But some gifts can also hurt, and I’m sorry if what I am about to say may well trouble.

  The ‘twin’ that Cooper saw isn’t just a lookalike; he is a clone.”

  “Are you sure?” Cooper questioned.

  “DNA analysis has confirmed it.”

  “What does that say about me? Am I… a clone?”

  “Our preliminary analysis suggests the Menhancer had at least two distinct male progenitors, though probably only one female. You’re spectacularly normal… the sum of one man and one woman. In short, he may have looked just like you, but it was mostly superficial.”

  “Meaning I am not a clone?”

  “We do not believe so.”

  “Will there be a deeper analysis to conclusively show I am not a clone?”

  “If you permit, we will employ the necessary techniques, but please know whatever the results, it will not change how we view and value you.”

  The Grand Lady interjected:

  “It’s essential to keep in mind that just because Cooper looks like a Menhancer and shares significant genetic markers does not mean Cooper is a clone or the source material for one. Recall the male component of the clone being an admixture, while you, Cooper, are normal. I hope that gives you some peace of mind until more analysis is done.”

  Cooper looked relieved, concerned, but relieved.

  “Sorry to have interrupted you, Jon, please continue.”

  “No problem, you expertly clarified my vague statement. Another essential element here is that while the original Menhance programme involved invasive procedures on the brains of adolescent subjects or young officers-in-training, it has morphed to include clones. In that sense, it’s like Cheriot Wheel on steroids. I think we can all agree it is an ominous development.”

  All nodded, even the disembodied head, and there was a lull in the conversation.

  The Grand Lady broke the silence.

  “Concerning clones, circumstantial evidence suggests Riot has murdered or directed the killing of men she has slept with. One was a former guard at the Cheriot Wheel facility and another a high-ranking member of MESI. The latter expired shortly before Wezer became Special Liaison. Riot is ruthless. Given her cunning, beauty, and aggressive nature, anyone who finds themselves engaged in extra-curricular activities with her is not only in danger of losing his or her objectivity but his life.”