He led Stafford through the door. They found themselves in a room about the size of a two door garage. There was moonlight coming through the skylight above allowing them to see what the room contained: clones.
It was the remaining 40 people that Timothy had confirmed were on the boat. They were all identical copies of one another, of Sandra, of Sabrina, of all the rest. They each wore a plain black tracksuit and had their blond hair pinned back in a ponytail. Most of them looked about twenty but there was one clearly in her thirties and one that might have been as young as twelve.
They were sitting on the floor. A few of them looked up at John and Stafford without much interest.
John walked further into the room and among the clone women. What were they doing here? What did Ranulph have planned.
As he passed one of the girls she flinched and tried to cover her face. John stopped and crouched beside her. He took her hand in his and moved it away from her face.
“It's okay,” he said. “I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help.”
The girl looked at him. Her right eye was bruised and swollen. He wondered why she hadn't fought back against whoever had attacked her, all of the clones he had encountered so far were brutally strong. She should easily have been a match for any unenhanced human.
“Who did this to you?” he said.
She looked at him for a moment and then turned away, scooting into the dark shadows that clung to the sides of the room.
John reached out a hand meaning to take her shoulder but before he did a voice stopped him. “It won't do any good,” said the voice, another clone. “She can't talk. They made her without a voice.”
John turned around to look at the girl behind him. Finally he had found someone who might be able to give him answers.
“What are you called?” he said.
“Sasha,” she said.
“What's going on here Sasha?”
She turned and looked around at her lifeless sisters who had barely bothered to raise their eyes to look at the newcomers. Then she looked at Stafford, smiled and by the time she looked back at John she had regained her serious face.
“We have been sold,” she said. “Sold to rich men in countries where having a blond western wife is a sign of status and wealth.”
“You're kidding,” he said, although he could tell from her tone that she wasn't.
“These men can afford to pay for very specific things; no voice,” she said indicating the girl who had approached them, “no body hair,” she pointed at another, “a penis,” she pointed at a third girl who had been watching them from the floor and she turned away.
“This is awful,” said John.
Sasha nodded. “They make us and they sell us.”
“Ranulph?” said John.
Sasha shook her head. “It's Mr Sanctuary who conducts the deals.”
“Are you sure?” said John, unwilling to believe that the man had so successfully lied to him.
Sasha nodded. “Mr Ranulph likes to think he's in charge but Mr Sanctuary is the one who takes the money.”
John nodded. He would have to deal with his feelings of betrayal later and see about getting Timothy's sensors examined. He'd said that Sanctuary hadn't been lying. “We have to get you out of here,” he said.
Sasha shrugged. “You can try. Most of the girls won't want to go.”
“Why not?” he said. It seemed impossible that they would rather be sold off to some rich business man than try to get away.
“A lot of them are made without any real sense of self.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” said Stafford stepping forwards, “that they don't consider themselves individuals. They think of themselves as property and being sold off to some rich asshole is just fine by them.”
John turned and examined the women. There had to be something they could do for them. He couldn't just leave them there.
20
“Come on,” he said, turning back to the door and grabbing Stafford's arm.
“Where are you going?” said Sasha.
“We're going to steal the boat,” said John. “You can come if you want.”
He could almost hear her considering it and after a moment he could actually hear her bare feet padding along behind them.
John led them back along the maze of corridors. He had his pulse gun in his hand and no longer cared about keeping quiet.
A man stepped out of a door that was probably a toilet, he was still doing up his flies. John raised his gun without waiting to see who it was and shot him. He froze for a moment and then fell backwards in a heap on the floor.
They stepped over him. John looked down at his face but didn't recognise him. That left Ranulph and the clone. Unless Timothy was mistaken, again, Sanctuary wasn't actually on the boat. John would have to deal with him another time.
“Help me with this,” he said. Together he and Stafford rolled the unknown body back through the door he had come out of. They closed the door but could do no more to secure it. Then they were on their way again.
It seemed to take much longer going up than it had coming down and John began to worry that he had taken a wrong turn somewhere and that they were going in circles. He lost none of his anger along the way though. On the contrary, it seemed that with each step it rose and grew inside of him until Timothy was forced to ask if he was okay.
“Your blood pressure and pulse are dangerously elevated,” said the voice.
He ignored it and gripped his gun more tightly. Eventually they reached the door he had come in through and he found himself blinking in the moonlight.
A panel to his left exploded spraying shards of wood up like water. It took a moment for John to realise that someone had tried to shoot him and react.
He squinted into the bright night but couldn't make out anything. He grabbed hold of Stafford, who, he noticed, was holding Sasha's hand, and dragged them away from the door.
They hid behind a coffee table that looked expensive and heavy but a moment later that too exploded into cheap shards.
“Come on,” said John and dragged them away. They were inside the boat now, where he had heard voices earlier. He pulled them towards the corner sofa and they ducked down behind it.
“Why aren't you shooting at them?” said Sasha.
John ignored her. He didn't have time to explain that his gun took five seconds to recharge between each shot and that he didn't want to waste a chance by firing blindly into the night.
A cushion exploded sending a shower of white cotton fluff into the air. It looked like snow.
John forced himself to calm down, to steady his hand, and then he risked a look over the top of the sofa.
There was two of them. Ranulph and the clone girl. They were at the back of the boat.
“Sir,” said Timothy. “This might be a good time to let you know that there is also someone above us.”
“Above us?” he said. Out the corner of his eye he could see Sasha looking at him like he was mad but he didn't have time to explain to her about Timothy.
“They are steering the boat.”
He nodded. Stood up. Took as long as he dared to aim and squeezed the trigger.
The clone girl went flying backwards. His gun was only set to stun but she went up and over the side. A moment later he heard a splash as her body landed in the river.
“Shit,” she said, ducking back down and waiting the ridiculously long time it would now take for his weapon to recharge. He really hadn't meant to hurt her, now she would probably die in the cold river because her body would be paralysed and she wouldn't be able to swim or call for help.
“Come out Kable,” said a Ranulph. “I know you can't use that thing again yet.”
John ignored what he was saying and listened to the tiny fluctuations in his tone and direction. Ranulph was moving around and he needed to have a good idea of where he had moved to. He needed to hit him with his next shot.
“We can talk
about this. It's not what you think.”
“And how do you know what I think?” he said. He had no interest in the answer but needed Ranulph to keep talking until his gun had finished recharging.
“You think I'm a terrible man but you're wrong. I'm not hurting these girls, I'm giving them a chance of life.”
“How do you work that out?” he said.
“They're clones Kable. If I left them at Coblance they would be incinerated. At least this way they're alive.” He sounded as if he had stopped moving.
John tried to remember the layout of the room and as he did so his brainwaves triggered Timothy to display a translucent image capture of the boat. He could see the layout of the furniture as it had been when they entered, the fixtures and the fittings. In this image the coffee table was still intact.
Ranulph was standing by the fireplace, just a few metres away.
He considered switching off the stun setting on the gun. No one would ever know. He could tell them it had been an accident and that he thought it was still set to stun. He could shoot Ranulph and throw his body in the river. When they dragged him out no one would be looking for a killer with a super-advanced energy weapon.
But John wasn't a killer, not of humans anyway. He left the gun on stun mode and stood.
Already aiming for Ranulph he squeezed the trigger. The high-energy pulse was invisible and its effects instant. Ranulph collapsed to the floor in a heap.
John was knocked off his feet. He flew backwards into the bookcase. Hardback books rained down around him as he hit the floor. All of the air was knocked out of his lungs and he couldn't seem to get it back. He looked up at the ceiling and tried to keep his eyes open but the burning pain in his chest was too much. He heard the little bleep as Timothy went off-line and then he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.
21
He was aware of movement. Not the steady rocking that he had become used to but something else. He was sliding across the floor and he couldn't move his arms or legs to stop himself. He fell into a wall and looked up, wondered if the picture hanging there was going to fall off and land on him, closed his eyes before he found out.
22
He opened his eyes and smiled. Stafford's frog face was staring down at him. The beautiful clone beside him. “Are you okay John?” said his friend. He smiled and closed his eyes.
23
He was alone with the sound of the boat motor. The room was dark. For a moment he wasn't sure what had woken him up. For a moment he wasn't sure who he was or where.
“Sir?” said Timothy.
If he hadn't known better he would have said the AI sounded tired, as if he had been the one knocked unconscious. He smiled.
“Sir we are nearing the port.”
He supposed that meant it was time to get up, to go and find out what was happening. He looked down at himself and saw the hole where the energy weapon had torn through his jacket and shirt. The protective vest that he wore beneath it was scorched but otherwise undamaged.
“Sir, you may be a little weak,” said Timothy. “The nanos are still performing repairs.”
Of course when the weapon fired at him had been unable to penetrate his armour it would have encased him and done more general damage. Not enough to kill him but enough to make him hurt. He pushed himself off the floor and it was like fighting against his own muscles.
Ranulph was gone. Whether that meant he had been secured somewhere or thrown overboard, he found that he didn't much care. He walked out of the cabin and went to find Stafford and Sasha.
On the ground outside he saw a body that was not Ranulph or the man he had shot coming out of the toilet. It had to be the man who had been steering the boat.
He climbed up the metal ladder and found Stafford at the wheel. Sasha sat on the floor beside him.
“How long till we get back?” he said.
Stafford spun around, a big smile on his huge face. “John, you're alright?”
Sasha jumped off the ground and tried to put her arms around him but he held her off.
“I wouldn't go that far. I feel like I just got run over.”
Stafford nodded and his smile went down some. “We should be back in five minutes but we're not alone.”
“We're not?”
Stafford shook his head. “Take a look.”
John walked past Sasha and looked where Stafford pointed. A panel behind the wheel displayed potential hazards in the area. In the direction they were heading there were a lot of red dots.
“Sanctuary,” said John.
“I guess so,” said Stafford.
They carried on in silence.
24
There was no plan. How could there be. Sanctuary was waiting for them on the dock and he wasn't alone. He would have guns and other weapons and as soon as they docked he would board them and take back the clones. Then he would kill all three of them.
“What are we going to do?” said Stafford. He was still at the wheel and looking around nervously as they rapidly approached land.
“He's going to kill us,” said Sasha.
John tried to block them both out but it wasn't easy. In a few minutes they would arrive at the pier where Sanctuary and his men were waiting. They were still going quickly and rapidly running out of space to slow down.
John turned to Stafford and Sasha. She was right, Sanctuary would kill them but they might still have a chance.
“Full speed ahead,” he said.
Stafford turned his head, “are you crazy? If we hit the pier at top speed we'll...”
“...I know what will happen,” said John, although he didn't. He was afraid that actually knowing the consequences of his actions would make him change his mind and he couldn't see any other way.
“We could turn around,” said Stafford. “Find somewhere else to land?”
“He'd find us,” said Sasha.
“We need to deal with this now,” said John. “Or spend the rest of our lives waiting for him to put a knife in our backs.”
Stafford still seemed reluctant but they couldn't afford any further delay.
“Move out of the way,” said John, elbowing his way past Sasha to stand beside Stafford.
Stafford didn't let go of the wheel.
“I said 'out of the way'.”
“I can do it,” said Stafford.
“You're sure?”
In answer he switched the boat into high gear and they were all knocked back as it accelerated towards land.
“Sir,” said Timothy.
“Off,” said John. He didn't want to hear some gloomy prophecy of his death.
He turned and found a seat. Sasha sat down beside him.
None of them spoke as the boat rocketed towards land.
25
“One-minute to impact, sir,” said Timothy.
John stood up and walked to the front so he could see the approaching dock. He could make out the people standing on it like little insects. It did not seem to have occurred to any of them what was about to happen.
He turned away as he started to have second thoughts. It wasn't just the three of them, willing participants, and a couple of bad-guys, deserving everything they got, on board. There were also the forty clones who had done nothing to deserve this and hadn't agreed to it.
There was a loud crack and the panel in front of his exploded. He turned to look at the damage and another panel exploded. They were being shot at. Shot at with old fashioned guns.
“Get down,” he shouted and threw himself at the floor as more bullets flew overhead.
He crawled back towards Stafford and Sasha who were cowering behind the steering column.
“They must be desperate,” said Stafford. “Even if they shot all three of us they wouldn't be able to stop the boat now.”
John was about to reply that they would still be just as dead but Timothy chimed in his ear: “five seconds sir.”
“Grab hold of something,” he shouted.
He heard the cru
nch of the wooden pier giving way against the hull of the boat.
They were thrown forwards together. Sasha collided with the steering column, Stafford the panel in front of it. John was sent cartwheeling through the air onto the floor below.
He landed with a thud and felt wooden deck break beneath him. Guns were still being fired but louder were the voices screaming into the night.
John climbed to his feet, ignoring the pain in his back. The boat was slowing, still moving forward, plowing through the pier and taking out those too slow to keep ahead of it. It sucked them beneath it to be crushed or drowned.
“Sir, Mr Sanctuary is getting away.”
John scanned the crowd and an arrow appeared over one figure. Sanctuary was running along the pier and up towards the car park.
With a groan of wood and a screech of metal the boat and the pier reached equilibrium and stopped.
John ran to the end of the boat and jumped down onto the pier. He ignored the shouting and crying and kept his eye on the little arrow that showed him where Sanctuary was.
26
Leaving the boat crash to Stafford and Sasha John ran with single-minded determination. He wasn't kidding himself that this was about justice anymore. Sanctuary had lied to him and, worse yet, he had believed him. This was about revenge.
He elbowed his way through the crowd of people that were starting to gather on the pier a safe distance from the crash. He heard more than one of them fall into the water and angry voices shout at him. No one came after him though, they wouldn't have been able to stop him if they tried.
With enough speed he was able to jump the fence into the car park in a single leap. He landed hard on the other side sending shock waves up his spine. But he didn't have time to feel pain now.
A black Rolls Royce was rolling towards the gate. The windows were blacked out but there could only be one person inside.
Three Stories Tall Page 15