Mutant Hunter (Clone Worlds)

by Tobias Roote

  “For example. I once tracked a mutant group that were tripping me out, sometimes I could pick them up, then I would lose them. It took me a while before I noticed that periodically through the vegetation I would see branches where the bark appeared to have a crushed groove. I hiked up one and could see it was marked with sharp indentations like tiny hooks.

  I followed the grooves when I lost ground spore and eventually it led me to them. They had long tendril like arms that extended with hooks between thumb and index finger, when followed, they simply took off and swung themselves through the jungle leaving no ground tracks and no scent.”

  “So, we just look for nothing in particular to find something specifically out of tune with the surroundings - I’m okay with that.” Shrilla said, the sarcasm muted. She was used to working on more than just a hunch, but it was Grady’s playground and she could see how keeping oneself open to your surroundings would lend itself to seeing something that was at odds. They moved on, taking note of anything, no matter how minute or irrelevant in the hope of building up a picture of the natural order here.

  When they came across two-wheeled track ruts freshly dug into the mud on a well-worn trail it signified the end of their search. Humans. ENCIO, a hunter patrol, Grady decided. They were moving openly along an established route,travelling as fast as they could on the ground. The riders might just be searching, like they were, or rushing to a position where mutants were sighted. The ruts indicated it was a regular route, so they decided it was probably a security patrol.

  Grady counted four bikes. They would be silent running GNam’s. They needed to be careful. Operating clandestinely, as they were doing left them vulnerable to attack first, ask questions later. A strategy that could get them killed, buried and evidence erased even before it became known at a higher level. These guards weren’t cut from the cloth of civilised society and they brooked no trouble if it put their bonus at risk.

  “We run,” he simply said and took off after them hoping they would hear them if they either came up behind or met the enemy patrol head-on.

  At the six kilometre mark the ground changed from closed in jungle to coastal paths and cliff edges. They were now at the furthest point from their intended destination, but following a hunch, Grady continued to pace them both to a fast jog. If a patrol was out this far there had to be a reason. He hoped it might provide them with a short cut to intelligence that would aid them.

  They were descending down a path that widened into an area of sand dunes and a bamboo-like growth that interspersed the ground. The wild growth extended right up to the edge of the water giving them cover, without which they would be exposed from all sides.

  They moved more cautiously, both had their guns out and primed. If they had been detected coming out of the jungle, it would be perfect area for an ambush. They halted.

  “I hear voices over there,” Grady whispered into his comms and pointed to an outcrop of rock that would take them to the next section of beach. “Getting over there might prove difficult, though - there’s no cover,” he added.

  “I can climb that section over there,” Shrilla pointed at a slightly inset cliff that had good holds to take her to the top and give her a good view of what was going on around the other side. Grady nodded, he could already see that it would provide the necessary cover, but the angle wouldn’t leave any options for Shrilla, except sniper fire. He said he would wait until she reached the top and checked their locality before moving in.

  As she moved out of sight, he tapped his ear to make sure their ear-buds were working and heard the copy-tap of Shrilla’s response.

  Dyle Phang - Encio Corporation, DCOD (Deputy, Clandestine Operations Director)

  Phang had many contacts in all organisations. If one wanted to turn on him, they would be ‘spiked’ by another. His ‘eyes’ in their business meant he pretty much did what he wanted and profited from the resulting intelligence.

  Currently, Phang was taking advantage of the insider in Alliance of Worlds to pull the teeth of that organisation once and for all. The ‘puppet’ thought he was the ‘master’ when in fact it was really Phang pulling the strings. His ambition was to be the CEO of ENCIO and then press the corporations into waging a final war on the Alliance. The AW was the proverbial thorn in the corp’s side and Phang had decided to use his puppet inside the organisation to finish it off and give the corp a clear run at the planets under its dominion. That alone would launch him into the CEO position over the existing head.

  Callbran, was a middle-ager, a turn of the century rejuve who used clones as servitors to dominate his own political agendas. Callbran had no stomach for a fight, he was a passive coexistence sort of leader and whilst this provided the partners with a peaceful climate for business, it gave no opportunity for big profits. Profit was what corporations were all about. War provided ‘very’ high profits and Phang’s backers were poised ready to reap the rewards.

  Phang looked at the image of the incoming call and picked up his end of the vidcom. He sighed. It was to be expected, he thought as he prepared for a stiff rebuke from his contact.

  “This is the second time you’ve bungled this operation,” the shadowed man said into the vidscreen. Despite the melodramatic silhouette of his contact it was worth the effort. Phang knew who he was, but it was essential that he wasn’t identified by anyone else. The plan would fall apart if so much as a hint got out. Hence the anonymity of the caller. The security was high, but you just never knew these days who was tinkering with the encryption. He had enemies in the DIA who would have him down as a full-time target. If they only knew, he chuckled to himself. Then, realising the contact was glaring at him suspiciously, answered as was expected. Phang had no problem being subservient to people he intended to do away with later. It increased the satisfaction he felt.

  “We hadn’t counted on the interference from the long-hauler vessel,” he admitted cautiously.

  “I thought we had all the corporates on our side - which one didn’t come through ?”

  “It was a guy called MacCullum, an independent contractor that somehow managed to circumvent the blockade we’d erected around the port. We’re also looking into who called the GTV crew, as we’re now having to deal with political fallout across the Galaxy,” Phang informed him. “I’m already looking into eliminating the long-hauler vessel on its next run out of system.” Phang never liked people interfering in his operations. He’d need to be careful though, because someone was putting the pieces together and he wanted no trace of anything back to his desk.

  The contact spoke again.“You know that taking over AW Command is crucial to our plans, but this development of the agents being sent to Archon is the real problem and they need eliminating.” He was stating the obvious to Phang who had already considered the odds of them actually achieving their mission. He had too many people on the ground and in space for that to happen. It was highly unlikely they would discover the truth of the situation in the short time they would have to investigate. He did wonder how they had got onto the Archon situation so fast - was there a leak somewhere ?

  “Hmmh !” Phang uttered in acknowledgement trying to think while dealing with the idiot at the other end. He’d already had his instructions from the secretive Simas who was financing Phang’s elevation to CEO of ENCIO. He didn’t need this pipsqueak telling him what to do.

  The contact continued to give him orders as if he was a lackey, “Put together another task force immediately, this time use the Angels, although who would think to call them that. Don't fail this time,” he admonished nodding confidently in the expectation of Phang’s immediate compliance. Phang cut the connection. The Angels wasn’t a bad idea, he thought as he contemplated his next move.

  He was right though, they weren’t Angels at all, unless they were from Grell’s underworld. They were a small independent cult of assassins who could be counted on to complete any mission they took on. Their order was extremely ancient, even by this Empire’s standards. Some sa
y they pre-dated the Dispersal, when the exodus went out from the Terran world. Phang didn’t know. He had met one once, and despite his own abilities, he’d come away with the distinct feeling that he had narrowly escaped a fatal encounter. He wasn’t a dispersalist or a sympathiser, but he ‘was’ a believer in supporting any good cause, especially when that cause was a fast route to personal profit and power.

  Phang sat back. His empty desk, devoid of any personal memorabilia provided him the vacancy in which to think. He needed to be very careful how he handled this. Plots had a habit of unravelling if they were put together in a hurry, or were too close together in time and space. The involvement of the Core navy should have been a ‘fait accompli’ but due to the involvement of two maverick agents and the DIA patrol, the demise of the Alliance of Worlds was proving to be more problematic. Now, after two attempts they would be forewarned and no longer an easy target, despite the access over-ride from his puppet inside.

  He sighed heavily and placed the call. This was going to be expensive.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Shrilla takes the High Ground

  Shrilla was relieved to be able to take the lead, she wasn’t used to playing second and whilst she really liked and respected Grady, she much preferred working alone. He’d been good, he obviously wasn’t used to working with partners either so he had approached the whole thing carefully and given her time to agree or offer alternative plans. Mostly, she was happy to let him make the decisions, except she was sure he would take the safer course with her around. That’s not what she understood they were there for.

  As she climbed she had time to reflect on the last few days. Range had messaged her that Kildark was performing well and he himself had secured the AWC from further incursions. However, the scuttle-but was that Kildark’s position was being eroded by events outside of AW, the corporations were attacking his credibility with the Alliance using information that could only have come from inside AW Command. Which meant somebody was still providing intel to the other side. Range was working on the theory that whoever it was, also let in the attack team and arranged the Core team’s access. He was a dab hand at data forensics and he had a few others in his squad that were pretty good at breaking into systems. He’d been a space marine for six years, after that he’d been on secret intelligence work for the Alliance. Shrilla believed he was more than qualified to handle his current assignment and was also grateful to Grady for his immediate recognition of Range’s abilities.

  The perplexing matter of the assassins all being identical clones indicated a corporate take-down, but something that had really got Grady worked up was the discovery that the body of Preston, found in the office with Vangher, was in fact a clone as well. The bio-marker tell-tales weren’t completely destroyed in the assassination.

  Neither they, nor Range had any idea why a clone would be working within the AWC. Grady, on a hunch, asked Range to send an investigator round to Preston’s apartment and just before they’d landed Range had messaged to say they had discovered another Preston corpse in the apartment. Range believed it to be the actual body of Preston, the damage had been significant and they had sent the body to be checked for bio-markers.

  All in all, a very perplexing situation.

  Shrilla arrived at the top and signalled a double-tap to the ear that she was clear and making progress to the outer edge. They tended not to use voice much because it carried in the locality and you never knew if there was satellite monitoring. As she pushed herself to the overhang to get a better look she was astonished to see the four guards had apparently surprised what appeared to be a hunting party. Three individuals were hog-tied and a fourth was in the process of being led to a group of rocks close to where Grady would be approaching from the other side.

  As Shrilla continued to watch one of the patrol guards kicked a tied-up mutant in the head, the other mutants were craning their necks to see what was happening with the fourth. They were screaming something.

  “Grady, get over here, there’s something going down in your path fifty yards the other side of you, and I don’t like the look of it.”

  Shrilla actually didn’t like the look of it one bit. She had belatedly realised the fourth mutant wasn’t like the others, the difference seemed to be in clothing, but there was something else. Why were three guards escorting one mutant ?

  She saw Grady slip over the top and realised he was closer to them than she expected.

  “Twenty yards,” she muttered into her throat mike.

  “On it,” came the terse reply.

  The screaming of the other mutants was getting more desperate and the guard had enough. He took the one nearest him and pulled back the head, a knife appeared out of his boot and before she could pull her rifle around to point it at him, the guard had slit the mutant’s throat.

  This was going bad, fast. The guard moved quickly to the second mutant who was still screaming.

  Shrilla quickly sighted on the guard and before considering the implications, fired her rifle sending two rounds directly to the head. As the man fell to the ground the screaming halted. The mutants were looking around frantically for the source. Only one looked up.

  “Grady, one down,” she whispered.

  “Correction, four down,” he said as Shrilla briefly swung her sight towards his location. A moment later she saw him walk around the tall rock with the fourth mutant walking freely, but uncertainly. While she had been busy with the single guard, Grady had silently taken out all of the other three. Holy Grell, he must be lethal in up close work. He hadn’t fired his gun, or she would have heard.

  As she watched, the fourth mutant ran the length of the beach back to the others and taking the knife from the dead guard’s hand, cut the others free. As they stood up, one went to the dead mutant and hefted him over his shoulder. He looked up at Shrilla’s location and nodded.

  Without even delaying to see what was happening, he took his dead comrade and walked into the surf. Shrilla’s sights followed him all the way, but wasn’t prepared when the mutant walked into the sea with the body and promptly disappeared.

  She waited a few moments expecting him to reappear, but he’d gone, taking the body of his comrade with him. What the Grell ?

  Quickly recovering herself, Shrilla re-sighted her gun on the others. Grady was approaching them, but they were quickly falling back, also towards the sea.

  “Grady they are going into the sea.”

  “What do you mean they’re going into the sea ?”

  “I mean just that, the other one swam into the surf with his dead companion and they haven’t surfaced.”

  She watched as slowly they backed into the water and as Grady neared the edge, the last one seemed to salute him and then dove backwards, disappearing without resurfacing.

  “You can come down now, they’ve gone,” Grady spoke in her ear.

  Climbing down was easier this side as the whole cliff turned into a high dune. Within a few minutes she was at his side. He was still looking out to sea.

  “They’re not mutants, I’m sure,” he said turning back up the beach towards the dead body.

  “How do you know that ?” she asked, following in his footsteps.

  “Too well adapted. Mutant genetics haven’t had the necessary time to stabilise, causing minor and major differences in every birth. A community wouldn’t have the same characteristics amongst any of them,” he answered absently as he turned over the man she had killed and removed his ID and pistol.

  “So, if they’re not mutants - what are they ?” she asked.

  Shrilla was scanning around them, looking for the Gnams. She saw them parked alongside a big patch of the bamboo-like growth and began to make her way over to them.

  He raised his voice as he noticed her walking away. “I don’t know yet, but I’m thinking we might have an alien humanoid species.”

  She turned, stopped in her tracks. “What ? They looked like normal humans to me from where I was looking, not even
mutant.”

  He stood facing her. “Perhaps they are related to us in some way,” he suggested. His face was blank not giving away anything about his thinking behind the façade he’d put up.

  “I don’t understand. We’re here to evaluate a mutant species, yet you're suggesting they’re alien. Where do you get that idea from ?”

  Grady looked awkwardly at her as though he was unable to say what he wanted to, which was exactly his problem.

  “I’ve been expecting to come across something like this for some time,” he hedged his answer.

  “How would you even know what to look for ? I’ve seen your training record. There’s nothing that would give you the ability to make that kind of assessment,” Shrilla responded aggressively. She suddenly had a bad feeling about this, but couldn’t put her finger on the reason.

  “It was just some research I picked up before I joined AW,” he said cagily. “Try this for size,” he suggested, quickly diverting her questions away from his personal history.

  “If you believe the stories of the 'Dissies',” he used the nickname for the Dispersalistas, “they believe that we all originated from one source. When the Dispersal occurred some of the colony ships were sent out with seed pods. Those seeds were intended to be used as the starting blocks for human evolution with modified DNA to ensure it adapted to the local conditions of the planet they colonised.

  The trouble is, according to the Disperalists, nobody has yet discovered a planet where those seeds were planted, and supposedly all records are lost. Therefore, no-one actually knows if any of those planets could have successfully managed to germinate some form of humanoid species.”