Selena

by V Guy

  Grant entered his office. “We are docked at the station Arcades. Will you need overnight luggage, sir?”

  Hess jumped in spite of himself, his anticipation clouding his planning. “Yes. Have a week of clothes prepared and delivered to my suite.”

  “The girl?”

  In his focus, the oracle had escaped his attention. He paused, blinked, and nodded. “She’ll need a week as well.” After hurriedly grabbing his data device, he moved to the door. “Lead the way.”

  Selena had felt that anticipation and was similarly antsy, nervously joining him at the airlock. Five members of his security team provided escort as they crossed the threshold into the station. Porters brought their personal gear.

  Rachael Winn met him with the primary researchers, Aline, Wolfe, and Jameson. They exchanged greetings while she advanced to hug him.

  “Welcome home, boss,” she said, smiling. “We have a lot to show you. How much time do you have?”

  “Three, four days,” he replied, glancing at Selena. “Can you get her situated? I would like to get started.”

  Winn nodded to one of her assistants, who led Selena, the porters, and an escort away. “She’s gorgeous. Was she your work?”

  Hess shook his head. “I would never have created a redhead. After this experience, they might be the only ones I made.”

  She led him down the corridor. “I hear she’s a precognitive. How was that done? Have you completed a genetic analysis?”

  He had been too busy to explore the possibility. “It’s a good idea. Maybe when the current project is complete, you could give it a go.”

  “That’d be interesting. Could we clone her?”

  Hess was momentarily shaken, barely controlling his thoughts—one oracle was almost too much to manage. “I’ll have to think hard on that one.”

  Winn noticed and made a humored snort. “She’s potent. I had heard Creative slaves were. Enjoy this one; she’s among the last.”

  “That’s the price of centralizing a business.” He followed her down a left-hand hallway. “If the stolen products were auctioned, someone could break down the process and there’d be plenty available.”

  Winn motioned him toward a conference room. “Creative had powerful investors and equally capable lawyers; I doubt the thieves would survive long. One of the managers was under suspicion; he has mysteriously disappeared.”

  “The lawyers needed a scapegoat.” Hess paused just inside the door. “Show me the product.”

  “We’re still tweaking.”

  “But you have a viable copy?”

  She paused. “We have five; one failed to mature. A sixth, a juvenile, is progressing nicely.”

  He frowned in thought. “A juvenile?”

  “Yes,” replied Winn. “They reproduce asexually. As best as we can tell, it will be an exact clone of the mother.”

  “Mother? Female?”

  “If we treat them as a hive, that particular mantis qualifies as the queen and is, by definition, the mother. She is the dominant adult and was the only one to lay. She is also the one who bonded the best. Two of her eggs are preserved in stasis.”

  “I thought you were waiting.”

  Winn shrugged. “In order to test them and continue with the process, a bonding was necessary. Resetting and clearing is relatively easy. We did this with the lesser four and returned them to dormancy.”

  They entered a new corridor, passed a security door, entered the next corridor, and paused before a sturdy portal.

  “Elizabeth is inside,” said Aline, accessing the security station and granting entry. “She’s already watching for you.”

  “Are you the one with whom she bonded?” asked Hess, frowning.

  The woman nodded. “We alternate. Although she’s by far the strongest, the offspring could eclipse her.”

  He paused in thought, motioning for her to lead the way. Two of his escorts cleared the weapons from their holsters and entered. Hess followed with the rest of the researchers.

  The mantis was as alien as a creation could be. Its body was thick and segmented, taller than wide. Six triple-jointed legs rose from the thorax to above the body, then descended even farther to the next joint, which cushioned and linked to clawed, grasping feet. Two legs sprouted from the base of the neck to end in powerful, long, serrated, razor-edged, claws. The long neck led to a head with two bulbous eyes and a sharp beak. The body was covered by a bluish-green, armored exoskeleton, and the joints and vulnerable areas were protected by a second layer of strengthening plates. A line of bumps began at the head, ran along both sides of the neck, and split into three different trails along the creature’s flanks and the ridge of the back. Sensory hairs followed these lines, the one along the back forming a hard line of backward-leaning spikes. The mantis turned to watch Hess with a surprisingly agile shift.

  “We reduced their size to permit movement through standard hatches,” said Winn. “Strength assessments show that it still meets requirements. It’s fully bullet proof, effectively disperses blaster fire, and can well handle temperature extremes. The dietary restrictions have been the most difficult hurdle. Being partially organic and metallic, you’ll need a good supply of hull alloy to raise and sustain them.”

  “Reproducibility?” asked Hess, studying the mantis.

  Wolfe stepped forward. “One hundred percent. The genetics have stayed true through the second generation. We can only test the third if the daughter usurps the parent.”

  “Usurps?”

  “No violence, I assure you,” she replied, smiling. “They’re telepathically connected. The less dominant one’s color dulls slightly and it yields.”

  He studied the creature as it conversely observed him. It was as receptive to servitude as the oracle. “What’s the link’s range?”

  Aline moved to a console. “Our tests with them hold to within twice the gravity barrier, which is the farthest we’ve tested within a system. That connection breaks after entering a channel. Their internal links are exceeded somewhere during the transit of a second channel.”

  “Precautions?”

  “After a broken link, they go dormant. A new link must be established.”

  “Which is why they must be preprogrammed,” said Hess, pondering the creature. “Have you tested the sequences?”

  “We did,” replied Aline, an analyst. “Their capacity exceeds expectations, but the fact that they learned was surprising. I can confidently postulate that they’re alive.”

  Hess’s brow furrowed. “That implies feelings, attachments, and goals. Boundaries will be necessary. How many mantes can enter the hive before it destabilizes?”

  “We’ve postulated a matrix of thirty,” replied Jameson. “There’s only one way to prove it, and that’s to actually have that many, but we were hesitant to cross that number. A hive of five shows excellent stability; there may not be a maximum population.”

  Hess nodded in satisfaction, smiling internally. He turned to Aline. “Describe the experience.”

  She straightened. “I see what they see, which was initially disorienting—they perceive a much wider array of input. I also detected and measured the strength of other minds through the link. That range seems to be fairly wide. I was able to touch a crew chief’s mind on a departing freighter, I saw what he was reading, and experienced some of his feelings. I was aware of the cargo he inventoried as well as his knowledge of the ship. That faded when I broke contact.”

  “How many minds could you touch?”

  A worried expression fell upon her visage. “One was disorienting enough; I don’t think I could handle more. Please don’t ask. The man’s worries and desires were evident, and experiencing them was unpleasant.”

  “What could their cumulative strength be?”

  “Three mantes have five times the sensitivity of one,” replied Aline, pausing in thought. “I expect the progression would continue upward with those ratios. As it was, I could detect every mind within a million kilometers with only th
ree, not that there are many people in this sparsely populated system. Why would you need more?”

  “People try to kill me. People set ambushes. Sometimes they kill people important to me.”

  “But don’t you think it’s overkill? Don’t you have a precognitive and significant security?”

  Hess scowled, his icy glare touching Aline and causing her to recoil. “I only need one good mantis, but five would be preferred. What I don’t need is for their links to break during a sensitive situation, rendering them useless. Keeping the queen with me could be equally problematic, especially if she decides to yield leadership to a new birth. My link might not translate. Have you tested that possibility?”

  “We don’t generally stay linked that long,” replied Winn, her expression troubled. “We sleep poorly, our dreams are disturbing, and I think we can even hear their ruminations. Also, we were concerned about directing them to do something in our dreams that they would obey upon waking. Can you imagine the terrible repercussions?”

  “We’d need limiters,” said Hess, nodding and thinking. “They also require an ingrained purpose, one that doesn’t permit such accidents. Let’s discuss this in the conference room.”

  They met, and he was contemplative as he examined their reports.

  “The programming is key,” said Hess. “A disconnection could turn them rogue, and these creatures could be catastrophic for the universe. Show me your solutions.”

  Discussions were held throughout the remainder of the evening, and the lone mantis and accompanying juvenile were placed into stasis and reset. The discussion continued the next morning, modifications were made throughout the day, and evaluations of the code were completed during the evening. This procedure was duplicated the next day. Tweaks to the code were done the following day until an approved instruction set was established. The fourth morning involved a review of the final sequences.

  Baron Hess addressed the group. “Hardress-Alpha is well separated from the rest of the Confederation. I need this connection active through the equivalent of ten channels. First, make the noted changes to determine their effectiveness, then activate and integrate as many as necessary to ensure the connection.”

  “That’s quite a distance,” said Winn, her brow furrowing. “We barely understand the genetic sequences permitting the connection, much less optimization.”

  “Then learn. How’s the development of the hive facility?”

  Jameson shook his head. “We only have blueprints. This facility was an expansion, and we’ve barely finished updating it. Another entire station will take considerable time to complete.”

  “A nearby mining asteroid has been purchased for that very purpose, and you’ll be provided schematics for the renovation. The mantes are hardy and won’t require much.”

  “What about us?” asked Winn. “What will happen when they’re done?”

  “I have other projects scheduled; all of you have signed non-disclosure agreements concerning the project and could leave. Besides the excellent bonuses, I can be an excellent reference to prospective employers—geneticists of your talents would be well received at any modification clinic or organ-growth facility. Believe me, there’s a dearth of talented designers out there.”

  His audience quieted to ponder the possibilities.

  Winn cocked her head. “When will you need delivery?”

  “Three months or as soon as possible.”

  She scowled, examining the necessary changes. “That will be challenging.”

  “I want that range,” he said, raising his voice. “One can be delivered when I’m assured the link is solid, and you can continue to modify the rest, reducing their number as their capabilities improve. My reasonings should be clear.”

  “When will we know we’ve achieved success? What’s our ultimate goal?”

  Hess shook his head in disbelief. “Are you serious? This is research, and learning is the goal. Learning is the end-all. If it wasn’t, why would you have bothered starting?”

  24: Shadows

  Day 720: Evaline, Hia City

  Serena piloted her Halfwing around the edges of a park, carefully observing the area. Private homes bordered the southern curves of the grassy expanse, and she knew which vehicles belonged to each residence; she had surveilled them multiple weeks. Three craft, two wheeled and one hover, were parked in the lot. One belonged to a regular, one’s owner frequented a nearby home, while the last was an unknown. She passed behind them, noting their registrations, then parked four slots away from the familiar one. A survey of the area revealed the woman she expected to see, moving slowly along the path, and a young man sitting alone on a bench. Two early-bird children were on the playground. Serena observed them along with the accompanying adults and set their images into her memory.

  She eased from her hovercraft, staying alert and keeping her eyes moving. Sunglasses masked her caution, and steady steps displayed a confidence she had been slow to acquire. Her stretching was completed prior to departing home, and Serena wasted no time in starting her run.

  Adjusting to this world was difficult. Touring Evaline’s capital of Marshall after her awakening had been educational, but for reasons other than its history. Serena learned how careful a woman needed to be in both social and public events, and she quickly realized the extra precautions attractive women must take. She considered it reality rather than vanity; Selena was frequently described as beautiful, and after Malik’s hard work, Serena now looked the part of her twin.

  There was also a level of paranoia that was difficult to dismiss. Meeting Lars had convinced her to be a little more discriminating about the men she embraced. That caution might ease with time, but since she was unwilling to jump into a new relationship, she felt no need to dismiss it.

  The first 350 meters of running took her along a part of the trail closest to the playgrounds and facilities, and she let her concentration fall from hidden dangers to assessing the area. A blue sports vehicle approached and parked, and after she ran another 200 meters, a fit, blonde woman emerged.

  Carol, thought Serena, adjusting her pace. The woman chose to wear the tightest outfit possible, one that Serena would never have worn because of the attention that was bound to follow. Morning sunlight broke through the trees, and she checked her progress. Running in the morning was good for both women, partially because the worst examples of the male population were likely still asleep.

  Her path turned away from the entry road and ran along a wooded border. Serena knew this section well, understood deer and transient points, and was careful to avoid being surprised. She held pace; she was proud of her strength and endurance. Malik had made her whole, and she was determined to stay that way.

  Serena cleared the wooded section and turned alongside the road, stretching her legs as she pushed her gait. She was continuously alert during her exertion, noting two new vehicles. The young man was gone. From one, a woman she designated Fran had emerged. The other vehicle was a mystery, no new people were visible in the park, and none of the homes had played host to it in the past. In spite of being extremely conscious of her surroundings, the run was a joy. Running meant freedom.

  Serena caught and passed Fran, offering her a greeting and words of encouragement. The woman’s form was terrible, her clothing looked uncomfortable, and her stretching was inadequate, but Serena avoided judgments. Fran was trying. This raised her status above the lazy people within the surrounding community. Serena cheered her efforts.

  The run began to consume much of her attention, yet she remained diligently aware. Two other vehicles arrived by the second lap, one she recognized. The other discharged two walkers. Her third lap saw the mystery vehicle was absent. She relaxed her guard but increased her pace to keep Carol behind her. The fourth lap was her best—she pushed to finish before the woman could catch her. Serena smiled to herself in victory then moved to the middle soccer field to cool down and stretch. The run was complete, but her diligence continued. She checked the exterior of h
er vehicle, opened and looked carefully inside, then boarded. Her Halfwing was airborne soon after clearing the park, and she turned homeward along one of five different routes.

  Malik had warned her about people taking their grievances out against her, saying she should purchase protection. The cost was largely irrelevant; the idea of trusting complete strangers frightened her. She instead took precautions in a different manner, changing travel routes, avoiding habits, and using anonymous funds to pay for regular expenses. The morning run was her sole indulgence; her other cautions were sufficient for her taste. She returned home after a brief stop for groceries.

  Her luxury townhouse was located at the end of a gated complex, and she finally relaxed when she eased her hovercraft into the garage. After gathering her things, she tapped in the entry code, pressed her thumb against the panel, and strode into her foyer.

  She sensed the presence of someone near and grabbed her protection rod as she dropped her gear to the floor. A quick turn and raise of her hand met the even quicker grasp of her wrist. An attempt to kick her assailant resulted in her arm being twisted behind her back.

  “That really isn’t necessary,” said a familiar voice.

  Serena growled an angry warning as she struggled. “You aren’t the one whose home was invaded.”

  The woman laughed. “We’ve not invaded your home; we’ve made ourselves at home.”

  She glared angrily at the floor, the only thing she could see. “An invitation is sort of required for that.”

  Serena was released and saw one of the men. He smiled, but nothing else about him suggested friendly. He had a stubbly beard, extensive tattoos covered one side of his face, and skin grafts following either burns or an infection graced the other. His clothing was rough and smelled of smoke, his boots showed extensive wear, and his hands were heavily scarred. The most troubling parts of his display were the two knives and gun on his belt. The man by his side was equally menacing. Scarface, she thought. And Pierce, with eight earrings.