by M. R. Forbes
She didn't react to his stare, continuing ahead with a smooth gait that perfectly matched Theodore's pace in his chair. She had her hand on his shoulder, keeping it there as they walked.
They reached the end of the corridor a few minutes later. Gabriel hadn't seen much of the fortress yet outside of the bridge and some of the living spaces, but he was already impressed with the efficiency of the design. Despite the massive size of the starship, it seemed to him that nothing was ever more than a short walk away.
The sheer volume of the space that opened up ahead of him caused him stare, letting out a small, "wow" as he took in the enormity of it. The fortress had seemed huge from the outside, but whether it was some bend in reality or some trick of the light, it actually seemed bigger on the inside.
"Gabriel, I'm the one without the legs," he heard Theodore say. "Do try to keep up, son."
Gabriel caught himself, taking a few quick steps to catch up. The others were heading toward an illuminated opening in a roundish glob of black carapace, the material Tea'va had told him was called lek'shah. His eyes followed the shape as it flowed upward, spreading out into a larger form that had to be the factory.
He paused once again, impressed with the sight. He would have fallen further behind once more, except Tea'va put a hand on his back and pushed him gently forward.
"It is more impressive on the inside, Heil'bek."
EIGHT
IT DIDN'T TAKE LONG for Gabriel to discover that Tea'va was understating the truth. The inside of the clone factory was more impressive than the outside of it. Much more impressive. It was also more than a little disconcerting. He didn't need to ask Theodore directly to know his father felt the same way.
There was a scientist on duty inside the factory, another clone of Juliet St. Martin who didn't seem to bear the same distorted beliefs as Zoelle. She smiled politely at them as they entered, listening attentively as Zoelle ordered her to show the General how the cloning technology operated.
"As you command, Dahm Zoelle," the clone said, bowing to her. Then she looked over at Theodore, bowing to him as well. "Please, follow me, Dahm St. Martin."
Gabriel watched his father's face as he observed the clone. While they had been in control of the ship for two days already, this was the first time they had strayed far from the bridge and was Theodore's first interaction with what Tea'va had named an "un'hai."
He thought he spotted a pained expression on Theodore's face at the sight of the Juliet duplicate, but it was gone within seconds, replaced with a polite, slightly uneasy grin.
"Well, I wouldn't be able to tell the two of you apart, if not for that pin of yours," he said to Zoelle.
"The process creates perfect copies every time," she replied. "You will see."
The clone began walking, taking them deeper into the facility. The entire thing was made of the lek'shah, rounded and shaped and broken up by glowing moss and cutouts that had been replaced with a clear version of the material. Through it, Gabriel could see different parts of the facility. The first looked like a research area, where oddly shaped, alien terminals displayed holographic imagery that reminded him of his chemistry classes growing up. There was a clone laid out on a flat surface there, naked, dead, and cut open. It was one of the mothers.
"What were you doing with that?" he asked.
The clone was walking ahead of them. She stopped at the question, turning around and looking at Zoelle.
"You may respond to any questions the Heil'bek has," Zoelle said.
"Yes, Dahm Zoelle. Heil'bek, can you please be more specific?"
"The mother on the table," Gabriel said.
The clone backed up and looked through the transparency.
"We are studying the effect of the crossed programming on the biology of the capsule," she said.
"I don't understand."
"If I may, Gabriel," Zoelle said. "The mothers that Gr'el produced were given the precognitive implantation of the soldier clone." She paused. "I should start closer to the beginning. My apologies. All bek'hai clones are preloaded with a standard set of instructions. How to walk, how to speak the bek'hai language, how to read. Then each subset of clones is provided more specific instructions. For the mothers, it is based on our research on human reproduction and companionship. For the soldiers, it is how to use our weapons, how to work as a team, and other combat related skills. The clones' genetics are engineered precisely to optimize these instruction sets, not unlike a computer. By placing the instructions for one type into another, you are introducing mental instability and the potential for disaster. Here, we are examining the physiological effects of the soldier programming on the mother."
"And who gave you that order?" Gabriel asked. "These clones were killed during our takeover of your ship."
He worded the statement deliberately, to see how she would react. She smiled in response, not giving anything away.
"I gave the order," Theodore said. "Based on your mom's recommendation."
Gabriel tensed his jaw. He hated to hear his father speak like that for so many reasons.
"What is the ultimate goal of this research?" he asked. "What's the point?"
"Strategy," she replied. "I will explain in more detail as we continue the tour. Is that okay?"
Gabriel nodded. There was no point to being contrary just for the sake of it.
"Shielle, please continue," Zoelle said.
"Yes, Dahm," the clone replied.
She moved back to the front of the group, guiding them further into the factory. They paused a short while later, reaching another room filled with alien terminals.
"This is where the-" the clone paused, trying to think of the English word, "instructions, are managed. As Dahm Zoelle said, we have a standard set of instructions, but they can also be modified here, as needed to adjust to changing variables."
"For example," Zoelle said. "If we create a new weapon, or need to alter our programming so that the clone has a new piece of knowledge on emergence from the maturation chamber."
"One second there, darlin'," Theodore said. "Why don't you just give them everything you know up front, if it's as easy as writing a line of code into a computer?"
Zoelle gave him a warm smile. "It isn't as easy as that. And, like a machine, our modified human brains have a limit to the amount of information they can store. Experimentation revealed that too much data causes the clone to freeze, unable to make any decisions. Of course, we knew this was an outcome based on the bek'hai brain, but the human mind is able to hold almost four hundred percent more information."
"But we're the primitive ones?" Gabriel said.
"There is a difference between holding information, and utilizing it," she replied. "While the human brain has more capacity, the bek'hai brain is more efficient. That is why we have conquered advanced interstellar travel, while you are struggling to reach beyond your system."
"Whose side are you on again?"
Zoelle's face flushed as she realized she was speaking for the enemy. "My apologies, Gabriel. I've become accustomed to referring to the bek'hai as part of my own. I've only recently been reunited with you and your father, after all. Please forgive me."
Gabriel glanced at Theodore, whose face remained static. He needed to be careful how he handled the situation. "I understand."
She smiled. "Thank you. As I was saying, we have to be very cautious what instructions we give to the clones. There is a great amount of experimentation that happens in creation of another type. Shielle, continue."
"Yes, Dahm," the clone replied.
She brought them down a longer corridor. Gabriel began to hear the sound of flowing liquid as they approached. It was the only noise he had heard inside the facility since they arrived. In fact, he realized almost as if by accident that the Dread fortress, in general, was deathly quiet. He wondered if that would change once they managed to get it underway.
They reached a solid wall of lek'shah at the end of the passage. Shielle brought them to a stop
in front of it, turning to face them.
"What's the problem?" Theodore asked.
Shielle looked at Zoelle, hesitant. Gabriel didn't like it. He glanced over at Tea'va, who seemed unconcerned.
"It is not typical for anyone other than the caretakers to enter the maturation hall," Zoelle said. "Most bek'hai do not like to be reminded of where they come from."
"Well, I didn't come from there," Theodore said. "And I want to see it."
"Me, too," Gabriel said. "You brought us down here for a reason."
"Open the door," Zoelle said to Shielle. "Tea'va, you may remain outside, if you wish."
The way she said it made it clear to Gabriel that she was challenging the warrior. He laughed in reply.
"I know where I come from," he replied. "I have no fear of it."
"Suit yourself."
Zoelle nodded, and Shielle put her hand on the wall.
The door slid open.
NINE
GABRIEL COULD ALMOST BELIEVE what he was seeing, but only because Zoelle's earlier statements had given him hints of what was to come. The maturation hall, as Shielle had named it, was a massive space toward the center of the facility. It was lined with row after row of capsules, three meters square, filled with a fluid of some kind, with tubes running in and out of machinery placed at the top. The fluid was in a constant state of motion, swirling toward the center, draining and being reintroduced.
In the center of each capsule was a human child. It floated freely in the goop, eyes open, head and limbs moving, seemingly aware of itself. Some were touching the transparency in front of them, trying to navigate their way in the fluid. Others were touching themselves, feeling their flesh, trying to make sense of who and what they were. All of them were male, identical in size and shape. All looked to be around ten years old.
It was difficult to tell how many capsules there were. They stretched ahead and to either side of them as they entered the space, moving down a short ramp and onto the floor. Gabriel noticed it was cooler in here than the other rooms, and he felt a sudden shiver as his body adjusted. He looked to Theodore, noting his father's disgusted expression, and then to Tea'va, whose normally pale face had somehow paled even further. The bek'hai looked as though he wanted to retch.
A clone approached Shielle from the left. A male, short and bald, wearing a simple gori'shah robe. He was flanked by two identical clones, who surprised Gabriel by being armed.
The clone said something to Shielle in bek'hai. Shielle responded, and then pointed to Theodore. The clone argued, she raised her voice, Zoelle got involved, and finally the clones retreated.
"The caretakers are very protective of the capsules," she explained once they were gone. "They are the only non-soldiers generally permitted to carry weapons."
Theodore grunted, and rolled his chair forward to the first capsule. The boy inside seemed to notice him, and he flailed his arms to position himself facing the General.
"They're alive in there," Theodore said.
"Yes."
"Is that why seeing the chamber is so traumatic? Do they remember?"
"No, Theodore. Their minds are erased when they reach maturation. The new instructions are implanted after the bodies are released. They wake up with no memory of their time being cultivated."
Gabriel flinched at the word. He noticed Theodore did as well. "How old are the children in there?" he asked.
"They aren't children," Zoelle said. "We need to be clear about that. These clones have been the chamber for seven days, their bodies aging ten years in that time. In seven more days, they will be ready for programming."
The clone in the capsule jerked and fell away from the transparency, its eyes rolling back in its head.
"Is it okay?" Theodore asked.
A caretaker rushed over, reviewing alien text that appeared on the glass.
"It is fine," Zoelle said. "It is part of the process. The enhanced maturation rate can be painful to the embryos, but they will never remember that it occurred."
"How many are there?" Gabriel asked.
"Four hundred," Zoelle replied.
"Soldiers?"
"Yes."
Theodore looked back at Gabriel, one eyebrow going up. Gabriel shook his head slightly. He didn't want his father to think he agreed with any of this.
"I know it is shocking for you to see, and can be difficult to accept," Zoelle said. She returned to Theodore's side, putting her hand on his as she knelt beside him. "Consider that I am only here because of this technology. I should have died long ago, Theodore. I was going to die. One of the pur'dahm, Tuhrik, brought me to a capsule and placed me inside." She stood and looked back at Gabriel again. "Like the bek'hai regeneration chambers heal the bek'hai, the maturation capsules have the ability to heal human frailties. To reverse the aging process." She glanced down at Theodore. "To return the ability to walk."
Theodore's face changed then. His disgust faded, and Gabriel could picture him running through the scenarios in his mind. He could have his legs back. He could be young again, with a young bride. He could have the second chance with Juliet that he had always wished for.
"The technologies are the same," Zoelle continued. "The fluid is filled with nutrients vital to the human genome. For the bek'hai, this fluid is mixed during delivery with a second plasma that contains all the drumhr need to be restored."
"How is it made?" Gabriel asked.
"It is produced from human and bek'hai stem cells. Our technology teases out the appropriate permutation to restore optimal health."
"Where did you get the stem cells?"
Zoelle's eyes turned sharp for an instant, her frustration over the question obvious to Gabriel. That frustration vanished a moment later as she removed herself from whatever she had been thinking.
"It took time to develop the cells," Zoelle said. "The original fluid was derived from the humans we collected when we took the Earth."
"People?" Theodore said. "That stuff is made from people?"
"Not anymore, as that would be untenable in the long-term. Though it is possible the Ishur is still utilizing some percentage of origin resources."
The disgust returned to Theodore's face. Zoelle noticed and knelt beside him again.
"Theodore, consider what this technology can do for you. For everyone on this ship."
"I'm not about to piss on the dead by using their life fluid like some kind of damn vampire," Theodore said. "Not for anything in this world." He looked at her. "You would never have agreed to anything like that either, would you? Ain't a God I know that sees anything right with that."
Zoelle was silent for a moment. "I did what I had to do, Theodore. To survive, but more than that. To return to you, but more than that. The freedom of all of humankind is at stake. I had an opportunity to make their deaths mean something. God delivered me to the bek'hai so that I could do something."
Tea'va tapped Gabriel on the shoulder, shaking his head at Zoelle's emotional outpouring. It was clear the bek'hai didn't believe it was real. Gabriel wasn't so sure. What would she have to gain by healing his father?
Theodore stared a Zoelle for a long moment. "I have to think about it," he said.
Zoelle nodded. "Very well. These clones will be mature in seven days. You have the option to continue the process or to terminate them now."
"Terminate? No. Ain't a God I know sees anything right with that, either. This batch is already underway; then we'll live with the hand we're being dealt. When they're done, I want this place shut down. No more clones."
"Theodore," Zoelle said, preparing to argue.
He put up his hand. "No more clones. If you did what you did to save us, that's one thing. You saved Gabriel; you helped us get this ship. If time changed you a bit, that's another thing, and I can live with it because I can't imagine what you had to live with, darlin'. I ain't about to make the same damn mistakes as the bek'hai. You become reliant on clones, on damn near slaves, soon enough you can't do a thing for yourself."<
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"How many soldiers do the humans have, Theodore?" Zoelle asked. "How many to fight against the bek'hai?"
"Hopefully, enough," he replied. "Now tell me this: you can make humans on this here ship. Can you make weapons, too? Armor? That kind of thing?"
"The clones, Theo-"
"I said no," Theodore said, his voice staying soft, treating her with a gentleness Gabriel knew he would never impart to anyone else. "And I mean no. I'm still a General of the New Earth Alliance Army, and apparently the Dahm of this here, what do you call it? Domo'shah. I always reserve the right to change my mind, but right now it ain't on the table."
Gabriel smiled at the response. Maybe he should have a little more faith in his father?
"Weapons? Armor?" Theodore repeated.
"Every Domo'shah is designed to be self-sufficient," Zoelle replied. "We have full manufacturing capabilities on board."
"Good," Theodore said, smiling. "Because we did a number on Maggie getting in here, and I have a feeling we're going to need her again before this is over. If you've got a program to make some of these clones into engineers, I'd sure appreciate it."
"We'll be crossing the programming," Shielle said.
"Violent to non-violent," Theodore said. "I imagine that isn't as bad as the opposite?"
"It should be less volatile," Zoelle replied. "But it is likely they won't be as performant as the clones specifically programmed for such tasks."
"As long as they can follow orders, it'll have to do. I hate to be so flippant with the brains of these things, but like I said, we'll work with the hand we've been dealt."
"It will be so, Dahm St. Martin," Shielle said.
"I appreciate it, Shielle." He rolled his chair to face Tea'va. "I want you to keep an eye on the soldiers when they come out, get them organized under Colonel Graham and the others."
"Yes, Dahm St. Martin," Tea'va replied.
"Theodore," Zoelle said. "What about yourself?"
"What about myself, darlin'?"
"The maturation capsule. When the clones are mature, will you be using one to restore your health?"