Xn

by Clint Townsend

  “Do I have it, too?” Titan meekly asked.

  “Yep,” she replied.

  Chloe then coyly turned her back to the twins. Titan stood by Armada’s side as he timidly extended his hand and lay his fingers, ever so tenderly, on her soft and exposed skin. He pushed his hand under the strap of her tank top and gently rubbed back and forth until he, too, discovered the tiny bump in the muscle. Without a word, Chloe turned slightly to her left and made direct eye contact with Armada. He nodded his confirmation and pulled up Chloe’s sagging uniform.

  “So, what are we gonna do? She’s gotta be there in twenty minutes. We need to be on one of those elevators like right now.”

  “Platinum, silver, silicon, copper and aluminum,” Armada quietly stated.

  “You two can discuss this all you want. I’m leaving. There’s no way I’m missing my interview on account of you!”

  “They’re tracking us,” Armada growled. “We have RFID chips inside our bodies! They know where we are every second, every last one of us.”

  Titan and Chloe traded short glances with each other.

  “Can we remove them? Surgically?” Chloe innocently asked.

  “We don’t have the time.”

  “C’mon, Armada! Let’s go! We’ll think of something later!”

  “I got it!” Chloe excitedly stated. “We’re in radiology, right? So let’s fry ‘em with X-rays.”

  “It’ll be too suspicious. Three clones have their transponders fail simultaneously due to overexposure to radiation? That’ll send up a red flag for sure.”

  “Okay, talk and walk. Let’s go; work with me, talk and walk!” Titan nervously spouted.

  Titan assumed control of the situation as Armada and Chloe churned out different plans and schemes to either remove the chips or render them useless. While Titan was on the constant lookout for any and all forms of danger, Armada and Chloe strolled lackadaisically behind him, fully erect and speaking freely without a care in the world. When they arrived at the bank of elevators, Titan pushed the button and slumped against the wall.

  “Hey there, buddy, you don’t look so good,” Armada casually commented.

  “I’m fine. I just haven’t had any of my supplements since early this morning.”

  The green ‘up’ arrow illuminated and a muted bell chimed, alerting the clones the elevator had arrived. The stainless steel doors split and the trio briskly boarded.

  “I agree with Armada. All of a sudden you don’t look all that great. And you’re sweating! Are you sure you feel okay?”

  “Sure I’m sure. I get this way whenever I’m on an unplanned adventure. Just do your magic and take us where we need to go.”

  Armada pulled down the keyboard and typed away. Chloe kept a careful watch on Titan as Armada rearranged the time stamps and authorization codes for their final destinations.

  “How will I get in contact with you? Will I ever see you again?” Chloe asked.

  “Did you enjoy yourself today?” Armada inquired with a smile.

  “Well, I don’t know how much I enjoyed the past hour, but I will say it was definitely an adventure.”

  Armada stopped typing, folded the keyboard into place, and turned to face Chloe.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Her trust you? I’ve known you all my life and I don’t trust you! She’s known you for all of one hour. Trust you? Ha!”

  “Well, maybe the answer to that question should be that I’m open to the idea of growing to trust you over a period of time.”

  “Then I can definitely promise you that yes, you’ll see me again and we’ll figure something out.”

  “I hope to see you again sometime soon, Titan.”

  “Thank, Chloe. It’s been a real thrill.”

  Titan slid down the wall, closed his eyes, and leaned his head back. Chloe adjusted her stance to face Armada. The couple didn’t speak as the car sped upwards. In a matter of moments, a woman’s voice said, ‘Sixteen X, Advanced Genetics,’ and the elevator stopped. Chloe slowly stepped past Armada, out the elevator, and into the hallway. Knowing that she would be under immediate surveillance, she didn’t show any kind of reaction when Armada whispered, “Go on and find out if you’ll ever get the chance to be as smart as me.”

  Chloe shook her head, then smiled to herself when she heard Armada call out, “I’ll find you.”

  CHAPTER 9

  THE NEW BABYLON

  “I want to show you the next phase of our plans,” Cain gloatingly stated as the digital schematics shone on the screen. “We call them ‘Clouds.’ Complete self-sustaining environments.”

  The modest assembly of engineers, scientists, and designers gazed upon the illuminated blueprints in both awe and doubt.

  Amanda Castro, a trainer with EVA aquatic simulators, asked, “Doctor, do you have projected dates for construction of this … Cloud, as you call it?”

  “Nine to ten months. Eleven as the worst-case scenario.”

  “Can you project the arena and dormitories on screen along with the Cloud?” another man inquired.

  “Bianca? Will you be so kind as to display both sets of schematics?” Cain requested.

  In a matter of seconds, Bianca Doyle, Cain’s personal assistant, had the original design blueprints of the arena and dormitories alongside those of Dr. Wyczthack’s newest project. An immediate hush fell upon the intimate audience. As if viewing a picture of David and Goliath, the perplexed collective began voicing their opinions out loud to themselves.

  “Correct me if I misunderstood you, but you expect assembly of this unit to take no more than nine to ten months?” Riggs Woodburn inquired.

  “Eleven months as….”

  “Okay, eleven months; you honestly expect to complete this project just shy of a year?”

  “Do you have an objection you wish to express?” Cain inquired with an obvious inflection of his voice.

  “Well, sir, just look at it. That’s gotta be at least ten times larger than the Arena. And I’m not even considering all of the internal components. With all due respect, Dr. Wyczthack, this obviously is a very ambitious undertaking and I’m not so sure we can meet the anticipated construction deadline.”

  Cain leaned his weight on the podium and, with his infamous scowl, simply stated “Ten.”

  His intimate audience silently sat, waiting for him to finish his statement.

  “Ten?” one of the engineers spoke up, slightly rising out of his seat, “What do you mean by ‘ten,’ sir?”

  “Ten Clouds,” Cain smugly replied.

  Riggs, Garret, Amanda, and the EVA departmental heads turned to face each other, as if what they just heard was spoken in a foreign language. Cain briefly glanced at Bianca who, in turn, cracked the smallest of smiles and shrugged her shoulders. The think tank was so focused on the discussion with themselves that for the moment they forgot where they were and who was watching and listening.

  “We can’t…,” and “We don’t have…,” was the start of almost every statement and comment.

  Amanda stood and raised her voice, drawing the attention of her associates, “With your proposed schedule, judging from what I see here right now, in my best estimation, we should complete all ten Clouds in nine-and-a-half years.”

  Cain and Bianca quickly darted their eyes at one another. As he chuckled softly, Cain glowered at Amanda and said, “Ten Clouds, ten months. Not one Cloud in ten months.”

  Cain shouted into the microphone, “Ten! I want ten … in … ten … months!”

  “How?” Light Huddleston asked.

  “Thank you!” Cain hollered, clapping his hands. “Finally, one of you geniuses asked a question instead of caving in with a blanket ‘We can’t!’ Now, if you’re finished with your whining and complaining, I’d really like to proceed. Is that okay with you all?”

  Not one person moved or cleared their throat.

  “Thank you!” Cain snarled. “Moving on now. Bianca, play the video and loop it.”

  There was
an uncomfortable hush that hung over the room as they waited for the short animated video to begin.

  “Turn off the volume; I’ll narrate and explain as we go along.”

  The projection screen came to life as the Engenechem logo and name faded in.

  “Remind me to call about the music for the new commercial; I hate it.”

  The computer-generated animated short began with a distant aerial view of the CARBEL from space.

  “Okay, Bianca, pause it right there,” Cain requested, moving away from the podium. He stepped down off the miniature stage and moved directly behind the table of doubtful scientists.

  “Here,” he barked, circling the Aerie and the CARBEL with a laser pointer, “we currently have how many CARBELs in use?”

  The moping brood was slow to answer.

  “One. That’s one! We currently have one CARBEL in use,” Dr. Wyczthack growled. “That will change with the addition of four new elevators and the enlargement of the Aerie. How many square feet of payload space do we have available at this moment?”

  “Sixteen hundred, sir,” Light meekly answered.

  “Sixteen hundred. You are correct, thank you. How long does it take to deliver a full payload, unload the platform, and descend back to the SUBOS?”

  “Roughly speaking, sir, on average we’re experiencing a six-hour turnaround,” Riggs replied.

  “Marvelous,” Cain commented. “Moving right along. We assembled the CARBEL in less than twenty-four hours. As we speak, there are sixteen nine-mile-long carbon braids in transit from one of our subsidiaries in Ohio. Pratt and Whitney and Rolls Royce are wrapping up their tests and performance trials on thirty new maxi-mount, solid fuel, vector thrust engines. The Aerie can be enlarged without suffering any downtime. When the braids and engines arrive, we can, and will, deploy the framework for the Halo modification and have all four new CARBELs in operational status before Monday of next week.”

  All of a sudden, the facial expressions and mood of the team began to change for the better.

  “And how many square feet of cargo space will you have access to once the new elevators are operational?” Cain asked.

  “Eight thousand,” Garret excitedly called out.

  “Eight thousand square feet of cargo space every six hours. Technically speaking, ladies and gentlemen, that comes out to thirty-two thousand square feet of available cargo space every twenty-four hours.”

  The once disgruntled group of scientists started smiling, nodding their heads, whispering and scribbling notes.

  “Moving on. At this point you’re probably asking yourself: who? Who will be responsible for the construction of the Clouds? Well, to put it bluntly, I—we—have at our disposal an unending supply of metal workers, welders, fabricators … virtually every skilled position required to see this project to fruition.”

  Bianca merged the schematics of the proposed Cloud project and a picture of the Arena and dormitories back on the screen.

  “This…,” Cain said, directing the attention of his team to the dormitories with his laser, “we managed to deliver the raw materials, assemble, pressurize, test and certify as safe and operational in under sixty days. That was accomplished by no more than two hundred personnel working five days a week, in one ten-hour shift per day. Dorms, Arena, transfer tubes, all of it … in less than two months and we came in WAY under budget.”

  “So, how many Evans are up there now?” Amanda inquired, twisting back to look at Cain.

  “The original two hundred,” Garret answered.

  “We’re going to use that facility and those workers to begin piecing together prefab units. Things that can be deployed and put together now but aren’t necessarily vital at this point,” Cain added.

  “So, the dorms and Arena house two hundred personnel, right?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, just who are you planning on taking up there? I mean, honestly, sir, these things are gigantic. How many inhabitants do you intend to house?” Amanda pressed.

  Dr. Wyczthack held up his hand to hush the room, dug into his back pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and began pressing buttons.

  “White,” a deep and coarse voice answered.

  “Alan? Cain. I’m in the conference room on seventeen with the EVA team and I have you on speaker phone.”

  “Okay.”

  “The question was just asked as to how many inhabitants we intend to place in each Cloud.”

  One could plainly assume, judging from the silence, that Dr. White was searching for his notes.

  “Three thousand with a maximum of forty-five hundred,” he stated.

  “I thought that was the number we agreed upon.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it. Thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  Cain disconnected the conversation and placed the phone back in his pocket.

  “Well? Does that satisfy your curiousity?” he asked Amanda, nonchalantly.

  The small ensemble of brilliant scientists sat slack-jawed, shocked by the information Dr. White just shared.

  “Does he mean three thousand total? Or is that per Cloud?” Garret queried, breaking the barrier of silence.

  “Per Cloud.”

  Riggs and a few of his subordinates pushed themselves away from the conference table and began pacing. Whether seated or standing, the band of twelve geniuses mumbled in disbelief and vigorously shook their heads in disagreement.

  “Thirty thousand? You’re seriously contemplating sending up thirty thousand people?” Light asked with incredulity.

  “That’s more like forty-five thousand.” Riggs piped up, “Potentially, forty-five thousand.”

  “Forty-five thousand?” Garret repeated, anxiously running his fingers through his hair.

  “Two hundred Evans can’t possibly assemble a structure of this magnitude, let alone ten, in less than a year!” Riggs defiantly claimed.

  “You’re absolutely right,” Cain admitted. “Two hundred cannot realistically accomplish that size and scope of a project. That’s why we’re quadrupling the number of personnel for the Arena and dormitory.”

  “Quadruple?” Garret asked. “We’re already crammed in up there! There’s absolutely no room for an additional six hundred!”

  “I know, Garret, I know,” Cain replied. “We took that into consideration when Dr. White and I were devising our production schedules.”

  “Sir?” Amanda called out. “Will you please go back to the original schematics? I have a question that may or may not relate to our current conversation.”

  “Bianca? Original schematics, please? And lose the overlay.”

  In a few seconds the full-size, computer-generated blueprints shone on the screen.

  “Will you explain exactly what those three oblong structures are next to the Clouds?” Amanda asked.

  “These?” Cain confirmed, circling the shapes with his laser pointer.

  “Yes, sir. Are those Clouds but in different size and shape?”

  “Well…,” he began, rubbing his chin, “Clouds yes, function no. Those we dubbed as ‘Arks.’ We….”

  “Sir?” Light interrupted, “It’s obvious that you, Dr. White, Engenechem, NASA, and others have a grand vision for this … these … structures. Will you please just tell us what you’re gonna do?”

  “Everything?” Cain asked. “You want to know where we’re going with this?”

  The answer was a resounding “Yes!” from each of the attendees.

  “All right,” Cain agreed. “Here it is: the facts and the black and white of it. In three weeks, we will add another two hundred Evans to the EVA agenda. Another four hundred will have completed their training and education one month after that. Are you with me so far? That’s six hundred Evans in seven weeks’ time. Okay?”

  Cain looked about the conference table and paused to focus on each pair of eyes.

  “Dr. White and I are on schedule to authorize the simultaneous release of six hundred Perseus-
class Evans and one thousand Aphrodite-class Chloes, with a duplication of the Armada-class to be released within an additional thirty months.”

  Amanda, Riggs, and their teammates struggled to jot down the flood of information, along with the corporate and governmental objectives.

  “Each Cloud will be constructed with the intention of housing no more than 4,500 civilian personnel. Every Cloud will be equipped with Halo docking capabilities and multimount vector thrust engines. The original two hundred Evans will begin assembling three replicas of their dormitory and Arena. In the meanwhile, the Perseus class will undergo EVA training with Riggs and Amanda. Garret will still oversee all EVA objectives, project construction, and safety. Once Garret’s team has completed the first dormitory, we’ll begin sending up the next batch of two hundred and someone to assist Garret.”

  “What about the Chloes you mentioned? Where do they fit in?” Amanda asked.

  “I’ll get to that in a moment,” Cain politely replied. “There’s more to this that we need to cover. Now, where was I…? Oh, dormitories, that’s right. We’ll build a dorm and Arena, then house it. Four hundred will build the next dorm, then so on and so forth until we have all eight hundred up there and living in their own separate facilities.”

  Cain stopped and reached for a bottle of water. As he rested his voice for a moment, he guzzled his water.

  “After the dorms and three Arenas have been completed, the receiving department will begin sending up the materials to hold in the staging areas. Clouds, Arks, the Garden—it doesn’t matter what—every project will have a staging area for inventory control and assembly. Light, Bianca, Riggs, and Garret: you four will need to be in constant contact with one another as to what’s down below being unloaded from the trucks and trains, what elevators are operational, what’s going to which staging area. You’re going to have your hands full.”

  “When do you foresee us piecing the next dorm together?” Garret asked.

  “First, you’ll complete the Halo expansion. Second, the multimount engines will need to be attached. Third, CARBEL platform assembly on the SUBOS Aerie. Fourth, connecting the carbon braids from the Halo to the Aerie and then, finally, the fifth task, attaching the braids to the CARBEL platforms. When we’ve completed that task, we’ll fire up the vector thrust engines and GPS. Today is Tuesday … braids and engines arrive late tomorrow. We should receive everything … Halo frames, braids, engines, solid fuel capsules … everything, by midmorning Thursday. That gives you eighty-four hours to accomplish this assignment. Are you and Armada and Titan up to the challenge?”