At the moment, living without the pressures back home looked tempting. Maybe he should go convince Sparrow to run away with him. No, dammit. He was a Shabin. He was born for responsibilities. Not just for his family but a planet full of people. Jason didn’t like the idea of leaving the inhabitants of Rhime to whatever replacement his insane father could twist into a reflection of himself.
Sagged in the bed, Jason mulled over the possibilities. Would his sibling bear the name Jason, or would his father pick something else? Screw it. The plan hadn’t worked. “You’re stuck with me.” Maybe. Ten or twenty years from now, the project could start again. Or maybe it already had. The company had Dr. Wilkes's research. Since human cloning was commonplace, it didn’t seem like a big leap from being able to clone the Herodians to then cloning the hybrid Shabin line.
Over the next two days, he repeated the Wilkes interrogation four times. The man reacted in similar ways and gave similar answers with every questioning. When Jason asked the doctor how hard it would be to clone him after the kinks got worked out of the Herodian cloning process, Wilkes couldn’t or wouldn’t commit to a timeline.
Chapter Eighteen
Jason descended the last couple of steps and cracked the stairwell door. The third sublevel hallway was a bland manila and about forty meters long with a few doors on each side. Creeping along, he came to a reinforced window, revealing a lab. Inside the room, hundreds of small animals lined the walls inside cages. Some he recognized — dogs, cats, rabbits, mice or maybe they were rats, lots of monkeys. There were a couple that looked like the native Alexandria animals he’d seen on the safari. More were unknown to him. No creagers or wistels with their long colorful plumes. Nothing he recognized from Rhime.
He kept going. The next door led to the animal room and the one after was a small office. Another was a utility closet, then another office. Turning back and checking the opposite side was another office and another lab. Entering this lab, he wandered around looking for his blood. A large walk-in cooler held only a vast blackness. Back in the real world, the guard tied up in the van had never seen the inside of the cooler.
Jason went back to the stairwell and tromped down another flight. When he opened the door, he could only stare in shock. Meanings, possibilities, implications, shuffled in his brain. Row after row of cloning tanks filled the room. A pale-blue fluid bubbled in each, supplying nutrients and whatever else the creatures inside needed. The tanks were only about a meter square. They’d always known the Herodians were a small species.
“Oh, Dr. Wilkes. Did you lie to me? Or do you really not know your friend is a lot further along in his experiments than he told you?”
He crossed the room and put his nose to the glass of one of the tanks. The animal? Thing? No, he chastised himself. The person was almost translucent in its immature state and hung inside an embryonic sack. It pulsed as its version of blood coursed through its body. Still too small to make out all its features but recognizable nonetheless. Later the skin would thicken, but nobody was certain of the final color or texture. Scientists theorized it was possible for the Herodians to have a multitude of skin varieties much like humans.
The beak-like mouth would have no ability to vocalize, according to the anthropologists. They wouldn’t bother to make sounds because they had no auditory organ. They communicated using sign language and of course, the Mirre. Later in their history, they developed a written language but didn’t survive long enough to become a technologically advanced species.
The Herodians had been able to mine and refine ore into metal. They built rudimentary machines. They had art. They’d just been harnessing electricity when something happened to wipe them out. All signs pointed to a plague.
And here they were. Brought back to life. His brethren.
Jason didn’t feel anything sentimental while staring at the being. The one he watched was only now forming its appendages. Fully grown it would end up the size of a medium dog. About thirty kilos. Four-legged, no tail, and another four appendages along the sides of the back like wings but serving as arms. The arms in the front were bulky and double-jointed while the ones in the back had three joints and provided dexterity.
He stepped away. These creatures had to be too immature to contact in the Mirre. It couldn’t possibly work. Considering he was already in the Mirre using the mind of another human for its memories of this lab, these were no more than objects. He wasn’t connected to their minds. The idea of coming back here in the flesh excited him. Surely he’d need to wait until they were old enough to survive outside the tanks to try anything.
And how would President Pride handle his disappointing prodigy coming home with a ship full of Herodians? “They followed me home Dad. Can I keep them?”
Jason had no doubt he’d be a hero to the researchers within the company. Whether it changed his father’s view of him didn’t seem to matter much at the moment. No, let’s be honest here. Doing something to make his father proud, or at least eat his words, had an appealing feel to it.
But would Emperor Ethics treat them well? They were sentient after all. They felt. They were people in every sense except for not being human. That was an ethical debate for another day. However they were treated back home, it was sure to be better than the care they’d get here under the Serigala military. It’d been Peter Shabin who treated his lab experiments as less than human. Marcus had changed all that, and as far as Jason knew, his father’s people were just as humane. Could one be humane to something that wasn’t human?
Jason gave that a resounding, yes.
He shook the thoughts away. This wasn’t the time to worry about these things. He still needed to find where they were holding Dr. Wilkes and then figure a way to get them all out. Instead of a one-man snatch, his mission — and he liked the idea of being on a real mission — just grew into a massive jailbreak. Leaving the fourth floor, he tried the fifth.
It wasn’t until he got down to the sixth level that he found anything else interesting. The stairwell exit had a lock and a much sturdier door he couldn’t get through. Continuing on to seven, he found the end to the subterranean depths. In here lay only an unfinished basement. Used equipment. A small workshop for making repairs. Plumbing and air fixtures.
From all appearances, six was his destination. He could go back to the faux Bill holding the faux employee inside the dream van and see if the guard had a way to get inside the locked area or he could leave the Mirre from here and plan his next step with Bill.
Looking up at all those stairs, even a virtual walk seemed too much to bear, and he was anxious to tell… To tell who? Bill? Mr. Killer wouldn’t care about the Herodians. Jason could and would have another long conversation with faux Dr. Wilkes. But what he really longed for was someone to confide in. Bill dealt in facts and actions. Jason wanted to talk feelings and future possibilities. He wanted Sparrow.
Letting out a sigh, he rejoined his accomplice in the real world.
Blinking a few times, Jason rubbed his eyes. Bill sat next to him on the roof of the building across the street from Wingate Research.
“About damn time you came back.” Bill stood and dusted off his pants. “My legs were getting sore just sitting that way.” He helped Jason stand. “So, what did you find out?”
Jason’s left foot was asleep, and he shook it out a few times to get the blood flowing. “I found out that we have a lot more work to do than I thought.” He started toward the roof entrance. “I’ll tell you on the way back.”
“Did you find him?”
Jason shook his head. “No. You see that guard down there?” He pointed to a man circling the side of the Wingate building. “We grabbed him and could you please not be so violent next time. If you killed him inside the Mirre, I would’ve had to start over.”
Bill shrugged and rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, I was able to…” He went through his debriefing, giving Bill detailed notes about the building’s layout.
By the time they got back to th
e hotel, Bill had suggested Jason would have to link to Carson to find the blood, and probably Wingate to make his way onto the sixth floor. He asked, “Can you make your connection using a picture of them?”
Kicking off his shoes, Jason sat on the couch. “If I’ve never met the person, no. A frozen image isn’t enough. It’s like trying to find the start to a spool of thread. I need something tangible to grip onto.” He put his hands behind his head, clasping his fingers together. “I need to have a sense of who they are as a person. If I got to know someone well enough without seeing what they look like, I could make the connection. If I had a picture, and I met them for more than a few seconds, assuming I was paying attention, I could do it. If I watch live video feed of someone I never met, and they were physically close to me, I can do it. Although, that’s probably the hardest way.”
Bill scratched his head. After thinking for an extended moment, he said, “I could grab Ms. Wingate and Dr. Carson, but we’d have to move fast after that. I’d have to get your reconnaissance information and break into the building all in one evening.”
“That seems like too risky a plan. We could find out something that prevents us from getting in the same night.”
Bill twitched. “Us?”
One side of Jason’s mouth quirked into a smile. “You think I’m letting you have all the fun?”
“Forget it, kid. I’m not taking you into a firefight. If you want to get those babies out, we’re going to need to go in as a commando force. I have a few people I think might be willing to help for the right price, but this type of attack really isn’t my style. I’m already going to be out of my depth with this.”
“Really? Who?”
Bill’s mouth clamped closed for a second. “It doesn’t matter who. What if we tapped into the security cameras around Wingate? Could you do it using live footage?”
“I suppose so. But I’d need to be close. I think it’d be easier just to get me in sight of them for a few minutes. Once I make the link the first time, I can do it again from here. It only needs to be long enough for a metaphorical handshake.”
“Right. Maybe I can catch them coming out of the office and just stall them long enough for you to observe. How about our exit? Once we break into that place, we’re gonna have trouble with the locals. This planet may not have many regulations, but they’re not gonna let you just steal millions in equipment and carry it off.”
“I have an idea for that.”
“Which is?”
Jason grinned. “You first. Who are you going to get to help us?”
Bill rolled his eyes. “Friends.”
“You don’t have friends.”
“If you must know, I’ve made some friends here at the tournaments.”
Jason sat up. “What tournaments?”
Bill blew out a breath. “This is so embarrassing.” The man was turning red.
“What?” Jason said with a laugh. Alexandria had all kinds of competitions. Gambling on them was the primary activity in this place.
“Oh, alright. I was getting bored and feeling like I was losing my edge while running around this stupid place. I’ve been doing the gladiator fights.”
Jason broke into a laughing fit. “All the bruises and cuts?” That was one way for the man to get out his aggression.
“Yeah. Even lost a hand one night.”
“Geez. Didn’t that hurt.”
“Hell yeah.” He puffed out his chest. “But I’ve got a twelve and two record.”
“Aren’t those competitions to the death?” Jason had heard about the tournaments but had no desire to watch people hack away at each other.
Bill dismissed the concept as unimportant. “Meh. A mortal wound is all you need to win or lose, but they patch you up. As long as you don’t let someone bash in your brains, it all works out okay.”
“Well, don’t get yourself permanently killed while you’re working for me. So, you think some of them will join us?”
“We’re all adrenaline junkies. I can think of two maybe three that would be up for this sort of fight. What help can you get?”
Jason let out a sigh. “I’ve been avoiding it, but I can go to the Rhime Embassy. It can’t be much on this planet, but they’ll have resources.”
“Uh…” Bill stammered for a second. “Are they gonna be willing to do something like this? It’s not exactly diplomatic, you know.”
“Let me worry about that. If I can convince them Dr. Wilkes is still one of our subjects and being held against his will, they’ll have to do something.”
“But he’s not.”
“Well, no. But does a minor Embassy on a shitty backwater like this have that information? Even if they do have some up-to-date list of people, would they dare gainsay me?” Not without a direct contradiction from home they wouldn’t.
Chapter Nineteen
Ambassador Tully's nose twitched back and forth as she listened to Jason’s tale. She’d allowed her hair to turn its natural shade of gray even though the rest of her stayed youthful. The gray was her way of letting people know she had experience. Tully kept it hanging loose just below her shoulders with a decorative opalescent comb off to one side. Trim and composed, her pants and shirt had a fractal glitter, denoting fabric from home while her jacket had a free-flowing design reminiscent of a robe the Alexandria people preferred. It was a very diplomatic way for her to dress.
Well past her century mark, she’d been working this post for the past two decades. Too old to still be climbing her way up to more important locations, Jason judged her to be too competent in her job for the company to rid themselves of her, but she’d also misstepped somewhere along her career to have it dead-end here. It was the type of quick personnel evaluation Martin had taught him. There might be other factors, and perhaps he’d read her file sometime to find out how close he got to the right answer.
“This.” He handed her a copy of his message. “Needs to go to the person described on the front of the document. Sorry, I can’t give you a name, but the ship ID is listed.” He was determined to give orders. If he didn’t ask like a supplicant, she might not question his authority to do any of this. He spoke quickly. “I want that sent out today. Top priority. As fast as it can go.”
Perched on a small chair, she leaned across her desk and accepted the data chip. Jason had made a point to sit on her usual side of the desk and found the chair quite comfortable. The office had a homey quality to it. Thick and ornate carpet, stained wood shelves stuffed with years of memorabilia, pictures of Ambassador Tully shaking hands with people. He even spotted a couple of awards from the company though he couldn’t make out the details.
The embassy, as it were, consisted of three offices inside a Shabin Industries building, but given they were on the top floor, she had some influence over the corporate portion of operations here on Alexandria. What better way was there than to run your off-planet transactions while on a piece of land officially under home rules?
Her lips pursed as she examined the chip as if she could read the material without bothering to load the data onto a comm. “My Prince, the message shouldn’t be an issue. However, I’m not sure your other requests are even possible.”
“Ambassador.” Jason tried keeping everything friendly and broke into a smile. “Francine, getting Dr. Wilkes back home is now your number one priority.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Jason. When we’re alone, you may call me Jason.” When people inside the building realized who he was, hearing his title again and seeing the deference was like a warm embrace. A homecoming of sorts, as odd as that was. But Jason wanted this discussion to be cordial.
“Thank you.” She made a slight bow of her head. “You see,” she hesitated before using his name with obvious discomfort. “Jason, part of our job here in the embassy is to keep track of anyone from Rhime. We investigated Dr. Wilkes months ago. He’s not a subject anymore and even though he’s working for a minor competitor here on Alexandria, he hasn’t done any
thing wrong. We have no authority to do anything in this matter.”
So much for them not knowing anything about the doctor. Jason stilled his face, not wanting to give anything away. “Be that as it may, I’ve offered him the chance to return to Rhime, and he’s accepted.” At least he will accept when we get him out of there.
Her nose continued to twitch, and Jason was ready to offer her one of her own tissues when she spoke. “Jason, sir, we received a message from home three days ago. It was a broadcast sent out to every Rhime base, embassy, and consulate on every planet.”
His heart raced. Home? Orders from Sultan Strange? “And?” It came out with a gulp that she couldn’t possibly have missed.
“My orders are to offer any necessary assistance and to ensure that when you leave here, it’s on a ship heading directly home.”
Jason fabricated a smile he didn’t feel and held out his palm. “There you go. All necessary assistance is just what I’m asking for.” He wondered if there had been any news reports from home concerning his uncle’s death. He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question. Home issues could wait for home.
She grimaced but kept her disapproval to a quick flash of her teeth. “I believe the assistance the Emperor had in mind was to keep you out of trouble, not to start an interplanetary incident.”
Well, at least her orders didn’t include physically forcing him back at the wrong end of a nervion. His father wasn’t treating him like a fugitive. Jason powered on with commands. “My father would be giving you the same instructions if he was aware of the situation. Since you are a couple of weeks away from Rhime, you will just have to accept my judgment.” He stared into her eyes willing her to break.
Shabin- The Reluctant Prince of Rhime Page 16