Clone_The Book of Olivia

by Paxton Summers

  When I settled into my permanent home, I would build larger water purification units and a better shower than the mister I’d been stuck with for weeks on the open ocean. For now, I’d take a portable supply with me and would deal with the sweat and grime I accumulated when I got back to the field. I had no idea how bad the contamination was in the area. I wouldn’t know until I’d had a chance to test the soil and water, which is why I carried containers for the samples and a dosimeter. They should alert me to any levels where exposure could be dangerous. Even though the alarms remained silent on the device, I didn’t want to drink anything which might make me sick.

  As for the seeds, well, I couldn’t bring the field with me. If someone spotted it, I might not get it back. Better I held the real treasure.

  I walked across a crumbling asphalt road, heading for a one story building. Its doors were gone, but hazy, purple glass still filled the steel window frames encased in brick. The building seemed to grin at me like a toothless giant. I peeked into the entrance and found it devoid of life. Debris from the partially collapsed roof covered the floor, hanging in the middle, ready to come down the rest of the way, a clear warning if I entered, it would be at my own risk.

  “Stay. Guard the entrance,” I commanded my mini-swarm and stepped inside. Navigating around the obstacles, I searched for anything which could point me toward people living in the area.

  From the thick coat of sand on the floor and the solo set of footprints I’d left behind, I guessed nobody had been in there for a very long time. I glanced around at metal racks and discovered I had found a kind of hardware store. Wire, pipe, tools, torches. I locked onto the plastic-protected makings for solar panels. Inside I cartwheeled, celebrating my luck. Go me.

  After converting the entos, I had to replenish my technology, no matter how primitive the replacement. First building I walked into, I managed to find exactly what I needed to get started. The components could be put together to create modern technology, not the antiquated mechanics I’d expected I would have to resort to. I could work with all of it.

  I took a mental inventory, leaving everything where I found it. I’d come back, once I located a place to establish my base of operations, keeping in mind I’d require a fenced in area to house what plants I could transfer from the field. The barrier would help to protect the gardens from potential outsiders and poaching wildlife.

  I left the building and started down the street, eyeing a burnt-out vehicle sitting outside. Its shell was rusted through. Steel springs stuck up from what used to be a fabric-covered seat, and I could see through the door. When I’d pushed on the thin metal skin, a hole appeared. Dropping down to my belly, I looked underneath and poked the frame with a metal tool. It remained intact. It would serve my purpose.

  I stood and turned to look at my field. The smaller, non-fruiting trees and plants would be easy to move. The larger trees would require a heavy-duty transport and a lot of labor to get them off the raft and to where I’d wanted them. I’d build a solar vehicle with the solar panels and welding equipment I’d discovered in the old hardware store. My transport would operate on hover technology, because the wheels were junk. I doubted I could find the tires. Even if I could, there’d be no way they’d navigate across the crumbling pavement without destroying them. Besides, I didn’t use technology which worked against me. Hover systems were much more energy efficient and what I knew. No use in reinventing the wheel if I couldn’t use them.

  Somewhere out there, I’d find a large fan or the sheet metal to make one, and as I scouted today, I’d look out for one or all of the components.

  I didn’t want to settle anywhere close to the pier where I’d landed. I had no allusions I was safe. Only a fool would believe so.

  I’d start with finding a new home. Next, I’d build a fan, rig a hover, and haul as much as I could to the new base. From there, I could improve my transportation and get the water and sewer running with some solar panels. My bees would provide security. I’d seen what they were capable of and knew my new dwelling should be safe with them on guard.

  In this city, I could scavenge everything I’d need. Well, almost. A longing filled me when I thought about starting over. I wished Eli were here to help with this transition. At one time, I would never have thought of him as a friend, but in the few weeks I’d known him, he’d become so much more. I missed him.

  Axel pours another cup of water and takes a drink. He sets it down and turns to me. “So, you missed him?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “He kidnapped you.”

  “He did, but he needed my help and knew I wouldn’t cooperate freely. I didn’t understand how bad our lives on the islands were, how much the government controlled us, until he forced my eyes open and made me see.”

  “How’d he do that?”

  “He took away my crutch.”

  “Your crutch?”

  I lift my hand and show Axel my starburst-shaped scar. “You have no idea how dependent you are on something until it’s gone.”

  “What was it?”

  “My life, or what I thought my life should be.”

  3

  Sententia, the day of my kidnapping

  * * *

  Eli studied me. I didn’t talk while he sized me up. I refused to help him gather any data which could further the revolt.

  “You know,” the rebel said, “we’ve been watching all of the keepers in this sector, but you had to make this difficult. We’d planned to get the information without resorting to kidnapping, and had, until today. But you proved to live a boring life and never chatted on the com or had sleepovers. Last month, we sent an agent in to pick you up the one time you decided to go out, but you turned him down and went home alone. Were you afraid to risk a relationship with someone who wouldn’t be sanctioned?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Fair enough. But you are going to give me what I want.”

  “If I don’t?” I glared.

  “I told you I’m not going to hurt you. I have every confidence once you open your eyes and see what is really going on, you’ll help us.”

  “Right.”

  “I mean what I say.”

  “So, you really think I believe you’re not responsible for the kidnapping and murders of those other hivekeepers?” I swallowed, looking away. I hadn’t known at the time the rebels were information mining. Even innocent talk could’ve given dangerous criminals intelligence to bring Sententia down, and I’d almost fallen for it. The charge would’ve been treason if I had.

  I remembered that afternoon. For a moment, I’d considered taking the man home. I’d been so tired of being alone. I wanted to matter in someone’s life, for something other than what I did for a living. But then, I didn’t want to support a program which forced people to settle into relationships the government deemed suitable, and not for love. I would not be a cog in their machine. So, I’d walked away, not breaking any regulations but also not taking any chances on a different future.

  “Those murders weren’t our doing. Probably the government. They have as much motivation to find you as we do, but for entirely different reasons.” His gaze skimmed over me again, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “You can bet your life is in danger, but not from me. Not from the rebels.” His attention drifted down from my face and back to my chest.

  With a snort of irritation, I dropped my arms. In my attempt to cover myself, I’d only managed to push my breasts up further, drawing his attention to the last place I wanted. “Up here.”

  He lifted his chin and held my gaze. “I’m not the enemy.”

  “Right.”

  The lift lurched to a stop, but before the doors could open, he slammed his hand over the emergency lock. I eyed the closed doors. I might be able to make a run for it, or in the least, alert my neighbors something was going on, but not from inside the lift. “Are you going to let us off?”

  “What’s the rush?”

  “Someone may want to use the
lift.”

  “At this hour?” He glanced at his chrono. “I doubt it.”

  “Then why are we waiting here?”

  “For the gas to clear,” he said.

  “Gas?” I swallowed and took a step in retreat, slamming into the lift wall.

  “Nothing deadly. I rigged a cylinder to release a sleeping gas into the air filtration system thirty minutes ago. Just wanted to make sure we don’t have any witnesses—or heroes.” He stepped forward. “It didn’t hurt them.” He stared at my mouth while he said it.

  “I see.” I didn’t really. He’d put everyone in the building to sleep for what purpose? So they couldn’t hear me scream while he raped and murdered me? Today I’d dressed in shorts and a sleeveless blouse, hiding little skin. The temperatures outside had risen into the nineties today, and even though the average person wore what I had, some even less, I couldn’t feel more naked.

  So, the disappearing beekeepers hadn’t been abducted by the rebels, or so he’d claimed, but here he’d incapacitated anyone who might be able to help me.

  In addition, many keepers had vanished, making it difficult for me to believe what he told me. Sure, the rebels claimed they were not responsible for the kidnappings. But those keepers turned up floating dead in the harbor later, bloated and stinking, having suffered ungodly torture before their lives ended. We were of no use dead, and the government needed us more than ever with the solar storms wreaking havoc on the hives. Only one group could be motivated to get rid of us. I didn’t buy his theory that the government killed the keepers. My stomach fluttered. “Please don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” He reached out to touch my cheek.

  “Look at me the way you are.” I jerked my head away before he could make contact.

  He dropped his hand, curling his fingers into a fist at his side instead. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “I’m not frightened.” Actually, I was terrified, but I wouldn’t let him know. “You were looking at me like I’m an object or possession. I don’t like it.”

  He let his gaze travel down again before he lifted his chin and stared into my eyes. “What are you? Eighteen? Awful young for an advanced keeper. You have six licenses?”

  Screw advanced. I held the status of master keeper, the tip-top of the trade. I looked away, not wanting to risk him seeing the truth in my eyes. “I don’t have six.” Much more. I held twelve licenses, but I wouldn’t give him any more information. I ranked high among the keepers, even those who’d been in the business for over forty years, making me the youngest to ever reach the elite ranks. The less he knew about me, the better.

  I had the face of a teenage girl, looking way too young to be the twenty-two years listed in my government file or to have obtained the status of master keeper. I only went out to the fields because I enjoyed the hands-on work. Most assumed me to be advanced when they saw me working amongst the lower ranks, not a master keeper. “Why me?”

  “Because you are the one, and you are in grave danger.”

  My heart skipped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The one what?

  “You are the last living Danner—descendant of the founder of the power grid, and we’re not the only people looking for you. We got word a little while ago the authorities were coming to arrest you tomorrow.”

  Yes, I was the last living Danner, but again, I didn’t confirm it. My last name on every record in Sententia didn’t state Danner, so he had no way of knowing for sure. I’d been adopted after my father’s unfortunate accident. My files had been sealed. I’d recently been allowed in to see where I’d come from. I’d hidden the data chip in my shirt hem, for some reason I couldn’t explain. I’d removed it from the records room. Call it survival instinct or premonition. I didn’t know why, but I’d broken at least a dozen laws doing it. Now, I knew why. Others were searching for the data I’d taken.

  Nobody knew who my real father and mother were except me, not even my adoptive family. Nobody would ever know. I’d destroyed the file a few weeks ago. Which made me wonder… Could the information he sought have been inside the file?

  “You’re wrong. I am a Jaxson.” Though I didn’t add I had a different birth name. My mother had died giving birth to me. My father had been struck by a transporter on the same day he went to file a petition to keep a child in a single family home—one week after my birth. Many claimed it had been an accident. The police report said eyewitnesses stated the driver didn’t try to stop, but had sped up. Of course they’d never caught them to verify the witnesses’ stories.

  The look on the rebel’s face told me he strongly believed he’d grabbed the right hive keeper. His next words confirmed it had been a process of elimination.

  “We’ve already investigated a dozen keepers while searching for you, and we’ve eliminated them as the potential Danner heir. You are the last one on our list and most likely who we’ve sought. Now I’ve seen you face-to-face, I’m certain.”

  Eliminated? I swallowed. “You got the wrong girl.”

  “No—not with those eyes.”

  I should have cell-shifted those months ago when I destroyed my birth record and changed my hair instead of giving into my vanity and choosing to stand out from the crowd by keeping the unusual olive color, a trademark of the Danner line.

  “When my scouts reported you had natural green eyes, I had to get closer to see for myself. It wasn’t until I saw you, I knew. After months of searching, we’d found the Danner heir. You’ve made this difficult, worked the jobs sporadically, kept us from locating you earlier, but the longer I followed you, the more I became certain we’d found the sole living member of the Danner line.” He stared, his expression stoic. “I need the key. We don’t have much time. I expect they’ll be here first light.”

  “Key? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Yes, my roots came from the Danner line, and I’d been orphaned as a child. That did indeed make me the great-great-granddaughter of the man who designed the power net for Sententia by modifying Nikola Tesla’s original idea. All of it was true, but this key he believed I had didn’t exist. I’d never heard of it, nor had anyone asked me before about it.

  “You are our way inside the internal workings of the grid and the satellite it’s connected to.”

  Again, I couldn’t help them, even if tortured to do so. For all I knew, the key he spoke of might be buried somewhere, or on a memento from the first week of my childhood—most likely in someone else’s possession. I could understand his reasoning. It did make sense. My father certainly would have passed on the shutdown technology to his daughter, but he hadn’t lived long enough after my birth to do it.

  Or had he?

  “Do you have any family heirlooms?”

  I narrowed my eyes on him. Did this man have the ability to read my mind? “No. I have nothing.” I felt confident we weren’t going anywhere, and I would have most of the night to figure out a way to escape, or contact the authorities. Perhaps if I could delay long enough, my neighbors might wake up and see or hear something and alert the authorities. My kidnapping couldn’t have been completely invisible.

  Without outside help, I’d have to wait for curfew to lift at sunrise before making my move. We were stuck together, whether I liked it or not. Though I didn’t relish the idea of him digging through my panty drawer, looking for the key he believed I had. Some of my life hadn’t been invaded from the outside, and it bothered me more than I cared to say that someone might rummage through the last threads of my privacy. But I would give it up if it offered a distraction and a means to escape.

  We were staying put, unless he decided we should track through the sewer system, and he didn’t look like the type of man desperate enough to crawl through crap. Not yet anyway. Besides, all my belongings were in my apartment. Somewhere amongst them, he thought I’d hidden what the rebels sought.

  And I could use his assumption to my advantage.

  If he was right about me having this mysterious key, then it cou
ld be a really bad thing. Everything in Sententia ran on the technology, and our society would drop into the dark ages without the Net. Once he flipped the proverbial switch, Sententia would go back centuries, something we weren’t equipped to handle. Hell, half of us didn’t know how to cook a meal ourselves.

  “Once we kill the power station, mankind will return to a normal existence on the islands. The natural bees, the ones we have negotiated for from the United Regions, will return from the brink of extinction. You’ll see the modern conveniences we’ve indulged in have almost annihilated our society. Sententia’s need for technology has killed the honeybees on the islands, and no matter how hard we try to make life work without them, we can’t. The ento-robites can’t be trusted. Beekeepers from all over have begun to report strange behavior, and it only seems to be getting worse.”

  “So you say.” Did I have to listen to his conspiracies all night? I reached up and rubbed my temple. If the odd behavior had become a universal thing, I would have heard from other keepers or seen it. That he thought I would buy into his ideas irritated me all the more. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “No. I want you to understand it’s not a theory. Far from it. You know better than most the design of the entos. Look at the blueprints. It doesn’t take an expert to see they were designed to do more than pollinate. They were created to defend and kill, if necessary. The entos are weapons built by our government. I ask you, for what purpose?”

  “You’re right. I know the bees better than most, so when I say this, you’re just going to have to believe me. You’re crazy. Nothing about them screams killing machine. Nothing. Sure, they can emit a small shock to kill predatory insects and chase pests away from the crops, but nothing on the scale you speak of.” I pulled up a three dimensional diagram by typing on my wrist-pad. The image floated before us, rotating. I pointed at the backside. “They don’t even have stingers.” I spun it around to face us and view the mandibles. “The robites can’t even bite. The pinchy looking thing on its mouth is sonar, designed to track any pests who might harm the crops.”