by S. L. Viehl
“And healthy. And vocal,” I added.
“Shut up,” our guard said with a growl.
“You may proceed,” one of the door guards said, and both stepped out of the way.
Inside was a huge, empty assembly room occupied by a sea of vacant chairs. In the center was a round presentation platform, with a single table. Six Terrans of different races sat at the table, each sporting a personal terminal.
Given my personal notoriety, the room should have been packed. So it was clear—this was all going to be under the table.
“You didn’t extend an invitation to the general public?” I asked my creator. “I’m so disappointed. I expected a big, crazed homecoming mob lobbing rotten vegetables and screaming for my blood.”
A pulse rifle jabbed me in the back. “You will remain silent until you are called upon by the committee.”
“Oh, I’m getting called upon? Wonderful. I have so much to tell them. Where do I start?”
That got me another, harder jab. “Move.”
All the continents had been represented, I saw as they escorted me and Reever down to the platform. North and South America, Africa, Asia, Euro-Common, and the Polar Nations.
Just one representative from each, however. It was much easier to bribe a single rep, versus a whole delegation.
The North American rep, a bilious-looking male with thinning hair, heavy body frame, and slightly protuberant eyes, spoke first. “The committee recognizes Dr. Joseph Grey Veil.”
Everybody recognized Joe. He was the official Poster Boy for Terran medicine.
“Thank you, representative.” My creator took a file from the briefcase he carried and stepped up to the podium in front of the committee. “My petition has already been presented to the committee. I have apprehended the experimental construct, Cherijo Grey Veil, and her accomplice, Duncan Reever. All that remains is a petition review, and the rendering of your final decision.”
“Why have they been placed in restraints?” The Euro-Common rep, an elegant Parisian female in an immaculate tunic, looked faintly alarmed. Obviously she was used to a much better class of experimental construct.
“Dr. Torin and Linguist Reever are dangerous fugitives, representative, both of whom have long eluded the League’s efforts to recapture them. The restraints are for your safety, as well as theirs.”
The Frenchwoman sniffed, as though Reever and I were giving off a bad odor. “If that is so, sir, please move your prisoners away from the committee platform.”
That was okay with me. The smell of her expensive perfume was starting to get to me.
Joe directed the guards to sit us down on opposite sides of the assembly area. I would have started yelling about that, but Reever caught my eye and shook his head.
Maybe he’d found a way out. I went to my seat quietly.
“If you are ready to proceed, representatives, I am prepared to answer any questions you may have regarding the petition.”
“I see no legal grounds to even support such a petition. The construct represents gross negligence of World Law,” the Asian rep pointed out at once. He was a small man with beady eyes and a shrill voice. “According to current legislation, she must be destroyed at once, and you, Dr. Grey Veil, imprisoned for violating the statute against genetic experimentation on humans.”
I liked him. Especially if he could get Joe thrown in jail.
“You will find a full waiver exonerating me of any wrongdoing in your copy of the petition, representative.” Joseph held up the page for the committee to see. “Attached to the main file, subsection four, granted by the World Assembly three decades ago.”
He’d gotten his waiver thirty years ago—just before I’d been born.
“Thirty years ago!” The rep from the Polar Nations echoed my thoughts with about as much shock. “That was when the original legislation was introduced and passed into law. Created and proposed by you yourself, Dr. Grey Veil.”
Which made absolutely no sense to me, either. Why pass a law and then allow the man who’d basically written it to immediately break it?
“Yes.” My creator folded his hands. “It was determined at that time to release only a portion of the experimental data involved in composing the prohibition against human genetic experimentation.”
Six very powerful people nearly dropped their jaws in their laps. I could almost hear what they were thinking: Just who determined that?
Joe ignored the gapes. “Ladies and gentlemen, as you are well aware, Terrans have rightfully formulated a deep and abiding distrust of alien life-forms. In order to safeguard our DNA, certain measures had to be taken. The first was enacting the GEA and preventing any random or thoughtless experimentation here on Terra.
“The second was to empower me to map out future evolutionary prospects and therefore strengthen the species against involuntary genetic pollution. The first was made public. The second was not.”
The South American rep’s dark face flushed. “And this construct you’ve brought here today—you created her to represent what lies ahead for the human race? She is Caucasian!”
The other members of the committee looked uncomfortable. It had been a long time since Terrans had openly bickered over their own skin color. Now all they cared about was preserving the pristine condition of their race’s DNA. They probably thought of themselves as supremely enlightened that way.
“She contains the genetic secrets that will permanently safeguard our genetic heritage, representative. This includes the heritage of all native Terran races.”
“She is a criminal guilty of treason and murder,” a familiar voice yelled from the back of the assembly room. “I request permission to file a counter-petition with the World Law committee. At once.”
I didn’t have to turn around to see who it was, but then, I’d spent a year dodging the man.
“Who is this being?” the North American rep demanded. “He is not human.” No one answered. “Why are you here, alien?”
“He’s depriving some poor village of their idiot,” I said in a helpful way. That got me another rifle jab from the guard standing behind me.
“I represent the Allied League of Worlds,” Colonel Patril Shropana said as he approached the committee, followed by a long line of armed guards. His canine face was thinner, but just as nasty as ever. “I am granted permission to apply to this committee, through the most recent version of the Accord Treaty. This construct must be turned over to me immediately and executed.”
Well, Colonel Shropana’s appearance certainly threw a wrench in Joseph’s plans. The entire committee all tried to speak at once, while my creator’s guards went toe-to-toe with the Colonel’s troops. Everyone was well armed—apparently the military guys got to bypass the weapons scanner—and I was deciding if I should drop to floor and hide, or stand up and add my dulcet tones to the yelling, when I finally realized someone significant had left the party.
Reever. He was gone, and no one, not even me, had noticed.
I sat back down and forgot about protesting or getting shot. He left me. How had he gotten out of his restraints? Why hadn’t the guards seen him go? Where had he gone?—all the doors were secured. Duncan’s smart. Maybe he’s on the floor, crawling under something.
I got down and ducked my head under the row of seats. All I could see were the combat boots the guards wore and Joseph’s handmade Italian footgear. No sign of Reever anywhere.
The guard yanked me back up. “Stay where I can see you.”
I glared at him. “You’re not as stupid as you look, are you? You couldn’t be.”
He looked under the seats, then over at where Reever was supposed to be sitting. “Where is he?”
“Search me.” I got snatched out of my seat. “Not literally, stupid.”
The guard dragged me over toward the platform. “Dr. Grey Veil? Doctor!”
Joseph made a waving gesture toward the guard and kept arguing with Shropana.
Reever’s just gone to get help. I wasn�
�t going to think about how he’d left me on Joren, and how he’d left me a couple of times on Catopsa. No, he’s definitely gone to drum up some allies.
Only we were on Terra, and no one was going to help a man branded throughout the League as a Hsktskt collaborator.
“Gentlemen!” The North American rep banged his datapad on the table a few times to get everyone’s attention. Joseph and Shropana, who were now in each other’s face, turned and looked furiously at the committee. “We will debate the merits of both your petitions. Please, put your men at ease and sit down so we may conduct this hearing in a reasonable and orderly fashion. Guard.” He pointed at me. “Move that prisoner away from this platform.”
“Sir, the other—”
“Now!” the representatives shouted.
The guard took me back to my seat, then motioned over four of his pals and told them about Reever. The other guards began discreetly searching the assembly room. There should have been more, but some of Joseph’s men were missing.
Out looking for Reever already? I hoped my husband knew how to hot-wire a glidecar.
Meanwhile, the committee debated the petitions. God, how they debated. They talked about genetic responsibility and the influx of undesirables to Terra and the League’s droit du seigneur attitude toward prisoners.
Joseph made a good argument—but that was his specialty. “I created this construct to serve a greater purpose than to be a sacrifice for a League Commander’s pride. Cherijo is the schematic for all future Terran generations.”
“Why don’t you simply create another clone?” the Asian rep wanted to know.
“Before my property escaped, she destroyed thirty years of data. She is the only source of the genetically enhanced material left available to me for study and replication.”
“Don’t you lie to them!” I shot to my feet. “I didn’t destroy anything!”
“Dr. Grey Veil,” the Euro-Common rep waved her thin hand toward me. “Instruct your property to remain silent, or I will have her removed from these proceedings.”
“You can’t seriously believe what this man says. He’s deranged, xenophobic, and a murderer”—they stared at me, unimpressed—”oh, I forgot, that makes him a model citizen here, doesn’t it?”
“Cherijo, if you value this animal”—Joseph lifted a familiar carrier up for me to see—”then create no further outbursts. If you do not comply, I will have the guards shoot it.”
I sat down and shut up.
Shropana continued where my creator had left off. “Dr. Grey Veil would have you believe this female is a mindless automaton, under his control. She is not. She has collaborated with the Hsktskt Faction and betrayed hundreds of League members to them. She was solely responsible for the debacle in Varallan. Countless sentient beings are dead because of her. I assure you, I will see that she is exterminated before she can harm anyone else.”
I guess he’d forgotten all about that time I saved his worthless hide.
The committee asked Shropana and Joseph to wait as they discussed the petitions. I could tell the Asian and North American reps were leaning toward granting the League’s request—they had the most to lose in tech contracts with other worlds. But Terran concerns, I would bet, came first.
The decision was announced without any discussion or emotion by the African rep.
“The petition presented by the League is denied. The petition presented by Dr. Grey Veil is granted. The construct, Cherijo Grey Veil, will be remanded to the custody of Dr. Joseph Grey Veil, to serve whatever purposes he determines are appropriate, for the remainder of her existence.”
Did I know my own species, or what?
I didn’t raise too much of a fuss when the guards marched me back out of the building and into a private glidecar. Hoping Reever would magically appear to snatch me away from all this kept me quiet and alert.
But Reever didn’t show. Worse, nobody seemed worried about that—not even Joe.
“Hey.” I was shoved in the back of the vehicle and squashed between two guards. “Where are you taking me?”
Joe got in behind the wheel. “Home.”
“That would take a few hundred light-years,” I said. I couldn’t stand not knowing anymore. “Where is my husband?”
“I’m not sure at the moment, but I will find him.”
So Reever had taken off. I grinned. “I doubt it.”
“He is in no position to help you, Cherijo.”
“Keep telling yourself that, if it makes you happy.” I pretended to stare at the scenery as it whizzed by, while trying to plot my next move. Reever would come after me. I wasn’t going to let the mistakes of the past let me doubt that. And when he did, I needed to be ready.
And if he doesn’t?
I hated that sour little voice inside my head. Then I get out of Joseph’s cage and I go find out why he didn’t.
The massive estate I’d grown up on was located just outside New Angeles, right over one of the prime epicenters of the San Andreas fault. My creator had bought the land dirt cheap, shortly before the New Angeles Corps of Engineers had permanently stabilized the fault. Land value had skyrocketed since then, which left Joe sitting on a gold mine.
Maggie had told me I’d been born on the grounds, so it figured that Joseph had his laboratory stashed somewhere on the estate’s nine hundred acres. Maybe somewhere up in the mountain range just behind the house. The only other thing up there were some Future Agers and a couple of Indians living off the land.
Joseph’s mansion had undergone yet another overhaul, I saw as the glidecar pulled to a stop outside the front entrance. Another three stories had been added, making a towering total of seven. Instead of the stately marble-and-glass facade that I’d hated so much when I’d lived there, someone had completely redesigned the entire exterior in a trendy polished alloy with sculpted faux-stone accents.
The sight of it made my stomach clench.
“Let’s go.”
The guards forced me out of the glidecar and up the long cobblestone walk to the front entrance. We followed Joseph inside, where the icy temperature of the air conditioning made me realize how much I was sweating. An automated housekeeper greeted us in a metallic voice.
“Welcome to The Grey Veils.” It turned to me. “Identify the female Terran, please.”
“This is my property, Dr. Cherijo Grey Veil.”
“Welcome, Dr. Cherijo. It has been over three revolutions since your last occupation. Please respond for an updated entry into the household database voice-recognition program.”
“This place still resembles a mausoleum.”
“Thank you, Dr. Cherijo.”
Joseph instructed the drone to prepare an evening meal for two, then dismissed the guards. Once we were alone, he lifted Jenner’s carrier and gestured for me to proceed him to the wing I had once occupied.
He still had my cat, so there wasn’t much I could do. Yet.
“I’m not staying,” I said as I trudged down the endless hall. “So don’t get too comfortable with the living arrangements.”
“I have no doubt you will try to escape.” Joe ushered me into my old room, which, like its duplicate on the Truman, was exactly as I had left it. “You have one hour to cleanse and rest before dinner. Then we will discuss why escape would be unadvisable, and what the future holds for both of us.”
Our future was a snap to predict. I would be leaving. He would be in traction.
As soon as the door panel closed, I tried to reopen it, but he’d locked me in. Then I started searching for anything I could use as a weapon. All my medical and sports gear had been removed. Anything made of alloy or plas had also been confiscated. I sat down on my old sleeping platform, and thought for a minute.
The treasure trove.
Joseph didn’t know what a sneaky kid I’d been. There were always little things I’d picked up that he’d demanded I dispose of—pretty rocks, feathers—the usual kid junk. I’d pretended to throw them away, then had secretly squirreled
away my treasures. Even Maggie hadn’t known about my stashed collection.
Before I went after it, I’d have to find all the recording drones he had planted in here and disable them. That would take some time—probably more than an hour.
So I’d cleanse, dress for dinner, and wait until later.
Unlike the replicated room on the Truman, Joe had provided me with a brand-new selection of garments. Very attractive, feminine outfits with plenty of sparkle and matching accessories. He must have forgotten how uncomfortable I was in that kind of thing. Luckily I found one of my old physician’s tunics in the back of the storage unit, and put that on, making sure the Lok-Teel was still secure in its hiding place.
The door panel opened precisely an hour after Joe locked me in, and one of the drone staff hovered outside in the hall, evidently waiting to escort me.
“Any chance I can reprogram you to get me out of here?” I asked it as I walked out.
“All input by Dr. Cherijo must have Dr. Joseph’s approval before the unit may comply with any directives.”
“That’s a shame.”
Joseph stood waiting for me in the main dining room. Dining hall, I reminded myself. My creator liked formality almost as much as he liked experimenting on helpless children.
He frowned at me as I entered the cavernous room. “Good evening.”
“You’re still breathing. What’s good about it?” I was starving, but wary of the food the drones had laid out for us. “Where’s Jenner?”
“Safe, for now. Please”—he swept a hand toward my old place at the table, just to the right of his chair—”sit down. You must be hungry.”
I sat. “I’d like to have a scanner, please.”
He took his place beside me. “You’re not feeling well?”
“No. I want to check this food for drugs before I put it in my mouth.”
Amicably he reached over, took my plate, and ate some of the fancy seafood from it. Then he handed it back to me. “You may observe me as long as you wish, but I assure you, the food has not been drugged.”
Instead of eating, I handed him my crystal flute. “Try the champagne while you’re at it.”