Gene Drifters: The Clone Soldier Chronicles-Book III

by Takemoto, D. J.

  “Yes, though not as good as yours; Chad or I will meet whoever Leo sends in for confirmation. I think that should be Max Peabody. I understand you have issues with him. Dorian says you’ll know what to do when the time comes,” Jason finished as they left the security slime behind. “Definitely,” was all Michael replied.

  Michael handed the paper to Jason, and when the plasmon ooze slimed completely off, the com voice said, “Welcome to bubble-stop #5, and have a nice day.” Once past the security port, they fed the paper with Leo’s formula for the Stem-wads® into the paper shredder, burned the residuals, then they continued on to their meeting with Stephen. Michael followed his fellow clones through the town, wondering how Roxanne was doing.

  Roxanne Smoot was not having a nice day inside that giant paper shredder chute. She had made the mistake of taking the quick route directly down the tube, and was now trying to wiggle her way back up to that side entry she’d noticed on the way down. She’d only just been able to stop her descent before hitting the shredder, and the crotch of her black leather pants looked like they’d undergone oral sex with a toucan.

  She used all four limbs to stop her descent, lowered her long neck to her ear, and ripped off an earring, tearing her lobe in the process. The earring contained an ampule of sticky glue, used by rebels to attach to smooth walls, like the current ones in the chute. Dorian presented the earrings to her as a birthday present when she was thirteen years old. She’d always thought his presents were a bit weird, until now.

  “Shit, I would have to end up trying to escape from a legal building, probably the only place still paranoid enough to use real paper copies,” Roxanne mumbled to herself, as she bit a hole in the ampule. She couldn’t even com Dorian for help because everyone knew legal buildings were security shielded. It was why Dorian had not been able to help her find a better exit.

  Roxanne used her tongue, managing to wipe some of the earring goo onto her gloved right hand; immediately stopping her from slipping down the chute wall, and giving her the ability to free the other hand to grab the wall of the side-chute above her. The entire process took her over ten minutes, and she was sure Leo would send someone to check on her in the ladies’ room. He didn’t, because once she’d left the board room, his mind zapped back into CEO-think, and because the entire Board still could not come to a consensus on that acronym.

  After wiggling up the side, leaving one black leather glove stuck to the side of the chute, Roxanne was finally able to shimmy into the side chute and crawl to an exit. She had no idea where it led, plus her ripped ear lobe was bleeding all over her remaining glove. She kept wishing Michael was there to help her.

  Michael followed Jason and his wife Jena down a back alley, into what was called the outer zone of bubble-stop #5. He thought he’d been all over this particular bubble-stop, even to that very strange area where they lived, in the lower back zone. But apparently, this region was a resident’s only neighborhood. He followed Jason and Jena to what appeared to be a small cottage, noticing as he followed that the two must have come from different clonal batches. While Jason looked almost exactly like Chad Yac, Jena Yac had strawberry blond, long, straight hair, pale skin, and glowing blue eyes. But like all clones, both male and female, she was a perfect stunner. The Clone Inc. figured there would be no market for an ugly clone.

  “Stephen is inside. He’s anxious to see you again, Michael. He wants to personally thank you for your part in saving us. Plus, I guess the two of you were conditioned together, on Andros, right? He’s an original, like you and Dorian, oh and Sebastian from New Zealand. I guess that makes four of you. Are there others?” Chad asked as he knocked on the front door of what looked like a California bungalow.

  “No, no others. The facility at Andros only made four prototypes. Dorian calls us the four horsemen of the anti-apocalypse. I didn’t even know Stephen was still alive. He and I, and Sebastian, grew up and trained as security clone soldiers, together at that facility. Our purpose was to protect Dorian. They only made one of Dorian, as a prototype,” Michael responded, looking like he’d called up some fairly painful memories.

  “I understand, Sebastian as protector for the free zone in New Zealand and Australia, Stephen for the undocumented, Dorian for the rebels, and you protect the Israel free zone,” Jason replied.

  “That’s about it, yes,” Michael said softly, knocking on the door. Stephen opened the door, and gazed into familiar eyes; the eyes of his clone brother from the lab that had been the Andros Island Human Cloning Facility, before Dorian turned off the water pumps and let the ocean submerge that hell hole.

  Sometime later, after Stephen and Michael discussed the current issues with the free zones, but tried not to relive old times, and after Michael and Stephen set up a long-term survival plan for the new generation of clones who would now be residing in #5, Michael left the bubble-stop heading west, back to Tokyo on a hover bike, taking the side section next to the tracks. From there he took one of those unmarked hoverjets on to Hong Kong. He was not seen again for many months in #5, as per normal Michael Segev. But he was no longer worried, because like Dorian with his rebels, Stephen, an original clone soldier, could guard this new generation of clones for the next two hundred years.

  Back at Stem-Worm® Inc. Headquarters, Leo wrapped up The Board meeting, having acquired the North Korean Neuro-regen Inc. business, now called BORE, his choice of acronym. His marketing assistants were elated, the Koreans were happy, and Leo was anxious to get back to Roxanne. This deal would give Leo a stranglehold on the world brain regen business, making him one of the richest men on the planet, and aiding in his bragging rights with Roxanne. Speaking of which, where was she, was she alright, and had that -85 underling taken proper care of her?

  Leo shook hands or bowed, whichever was culturally correct, and exited the meeting with Max dragging behind him. “What’s the matter with you, Max? You look like you’ve been sucking on neuro-pops. Are you taking illegals? I hope not; you know the Inc. stance on use of illegals by counselors during business deals. There is absolutely no use of illegals while negotiating contracts,” Leo whispered to Max, once they’d safely entered The Peabody inner offices, and once Leo had dismissed Bitbuns, Max’s latest toy.

  Leo could never understand Max’s penchant for his toys, cars, sex slaves; they were all simple monetary purchases. What was the point? I mean, if you could buy whatever you wanted, what was the point? Leo preferred an unattainable challenge, like time travel or Roxanne Smoot.

  “I must apologize, Mr Songtain. I believe I’ve contracted something of the viral nature. I know, it is almost impossible given the current legal counsel immunization protocol, but I believe this is a matter of industrial espionage.” Max was writing fiction as he went. He had no idea why he felt so bad given that he’d been drinking the prescribed CEO nutria-blend.

  “Maybe it’s only good for real CEOs,” he thought. And with that revelation, Max went home for a five-hour sabbatical, deciding to drink only the upper management counselor-designated nutria-blend for the duration. And while he was home, he firmed up that little scheme to ensure Roxanne’s demise. It would cost him a bundle, but was business expediency. Upon returning, he appeared his old heinous self, except for those grey hairs, the ache in his back, and what he also noticed…his slightly blurred vision. But he had to wrestle his old job back from his assistant, who had already taken over his office and his Bitbuns.

  “Industrial espionage; well, that would explain it. Some competing Inc. wants to mess with my latest acquisition and merger plans. That’s it! Max, take some time off. Our competitors are trying to mess with me. Go to that motivational retreat on Bora Bora, or something. Your assistant will take over. I’ve already spoken with him.” Leo stalked from the room, almost bumping into the chief of building security, who had run up from the basement to tell him, in person, that the paper shredder was jammed with a black leather glove, and that Roxanne Smoot was missing.

  “Fix it! And, find her!” Leo com
manded the guard, and headed to his office. He passed the women’s toilet on the way and paused, knocking on the door softly, “Roxanne, love of my life; are you still busy in there?”

  When he got no answer, he motioned to one of the female assistants; she was a level -3, thus much more reliable than that -85 underling. “Go inside. If Roxanne Smoot is there, do not bother her. If she is not, inform me protinus.”

  “Yes sir, I will tell you if there is anyone named Proteus in the ladies’ room.”

  “No, not…oh I’ll do it,” Leo stammered, and opened the door to the ladies’ room, immediately setting off an alarm, which was always officially installed in every toilet, by the Morals that Matter Committee of the WME, to blast a signal to official International Headquarters, when gender-limited rooms had been breached.

  Leo had just enough time to notice the prone -85 assistant on the floor inside a stall, before he slammed the door shut, pointing at one of the male assistants, when the guards arrived. The poor fellow would be flash-frozen for six months, for violation of the Morals that Matter Code, Human Resources would put one of those “marks” on his resume, and when he was thawed, he’d be one of those Aberdeen tunnel dwellers for life.

  To ease Leo’s conscience after the whole ordeal, the -85 assistant was given an entry level real job in Human Resources, as a level 2 in paper elimination. When she changed her bra that night, she found the diamond, and bought her own special luxury living capsule, with a life time fitness membership at the Harbor Hong Kong Supreme Living Capsule Condominiums. It came with a yearly trip to Fiji to attend the “Be a Super-fit Employee” workshop.

  And back at the Aberdeen tunnel, Rose was getting antsy despite that yummy German shepherd, Darcy Segev. The place was well-stocked with doggie food balls of every variety, but was quite cramped, and both she and her paramour smelled terribly of sex.

  It was time to move on. Canines rarely stayed around for post-coital chit chat. Rose tried the door several times, but evidently Michael Segev had locked them inside, had not told anyone they were there, and the place was not bot-com-able, due to the layers of epon, that heavy-duty impermeable plastic now used to line all Hong Kong plasmon tunnels.

  Well, wasn’t this just peachy?

  At the same moment, Roxanne was crawling through what smelled like a sewer. She’d gotten herself lost in the shredder chutes, exiting into a large tunnel which led to another, and another, until now things were starting to smell like shit, really.

  “What is that smell? Yuck, it smells like fermenting bacteria. Maybe I’m in one of the cell cloning labs,” Roxanne whispered to herself as she continued crawling down a large passageway. She finally did get to an open port leading into a vat of percolating Stem-wads®, which smelled even worse, and had to be avoided by flipping backwards over the rim, and landing on her butt onto the hard, black epoxy-coated floor of the lab. Luckily the room was empty.

  “This looks like one of Leo’s regen labs. I hope there’s an exit. The labs are probably more heavily guarded than that legal building,” Roxanne spoke to herself as she reached for the bot-com in her boot.

  “Dorian, are you there? Can you hear me now?”

  “Roxanne, thank goodness you remain unharmed. I lost contact with you when you entered the legal building. I am most apologetic. I had forgotten their enhanced security systems and could not get back to you regarding an exit strategy. I have been trying to hack their security for the last hour. Where are you? Are you unharmed?” Dorian sounded afraid. He was seldom stymied by security networks, and had been going crazy trying to reach Roxanne.

  “I’m fine; it looks like I’m in a lab. Did you get the formula from Rose yet? Did Rose get away?” Roxanne whispered into her bot-com while she checked around the lab for intruders. After several seconds she noticed a door leading into another lab, filled with busy bee scientists who were bent over microscopes.

  “We have delivered the package to its endpoint, and Rose is safe. Your mission was successful. Now allow me to arrange your exit strategy, Roxanne. Would you prefer a hoverjet, the tram, or a boat?” Dorian was busy calling up all the options.

  “Whichever is the quickest; just get me out of here. When are you going to tell the CEO?” Roxanne avoided using names, in case someone had hacked their com signal. She grabbed one of the white lab coats from a hook on the door to a cold room, picked up a note pad, and began to examine a nothing under one of the microscopes, just in case someone walked in.

  “The CEO will be informed tomorrow, once everyone is safe. A submersible would be the quickest exit strategy for you, but I must arrange transport to Aberdeen Harbor. There is a small submersible there, one we use for those missions that never happen. Can you get out of the building? I can’t get a vid on you while you are in the lab building. It’s shielded.” Dorian spoke as he manipulated the locking system on the rear door to the lab, from his remote control room at Donner Pass. He continued to call up the options, sent a code to have the submersible ready, and hacked a robo-driven limo to pick her up outside the loading dock of the lab building, next to a large blue delivery truck marked, Biohazards. To be on the safe side, he hacked the van and locked the individuals inside for the duration. By a strange twist of fate, the van contained Max’s hired thugs; they were his Triad hit squad.

  “I think so, yes. How much time do I have?” Roxanne asked, grabbing a falcon flask of stem cells from one of the incubators. “You have three minutes before the van will move. I hacked their systems, locked the individuals inside, and gave them some thruster problems for the next three minutes. After that, I assume the driver will signal a remote fix-it service, and will be able to move the van or have it moved to a service center. Once the van is moved the limo will be seen on the security vids; it is currently shielding the limo from the camera. Rose will meet you at the harbor. She should arrive before you,” Dorian replied.

  “Okay, here goes. I’m out of here.” Roxanne walked from one lab to the next, holding the flask, pretending to head directly to one of the vacant microscopes. No one even looked up. Scientists are like that. She turned left, exiting out the side door just as Dorian managed to shut off its alarm, and walked past the next two labs to the actual building exit, near the loading dock. Roxanne Smoot had left the building.

  “What do you mean Roxanne Smoot has left the building? How could she get past the security guards? Find her now.”

  Leo was very indeed perplexed. He had no idea why Roxanne would leave him. That -85 level assistant was no help either. She woke up after being given the garble-juice antidote, but all she could talk about was a shoe sale. Had Roxanne gone shopping; and if so, why would she knock the assistant out?

  “Check all the department stores, check the vids to see which door she used, are any limos missing? Don’t just stand there, find her!” Leo stalked back to his office, shut the door, sat down on the original throne of King Henry XIII, and cried. He’d had her, and lost her. If she was not recovered, or worse, if she was in any danger, he’d never forgive himself. Finally, after several hours of checking vids, security was sure she was still someplace in the building. They began a floor by floor, room by room search.

  Dorian was also in the process of doing just that, a room by room search of the Aberdeen tunnel, to find Rose; he was checking Rose’s exit strategy, but had not yet located her. He needed to find her quickly, so she could meet up with Roxanne at the Aberdeen submersible. Dorian was sure Michael had stowed her someplace in the Aberdeen tunnel. But thus far, Segev had not contacted him.

  He began by re-running the vids of Rose running out the front door of the Opus lobby, and finished with her entering the park. He used satellite recons to search every inch of the park, even using a DNA honing device, until he found a tiny piece of Rose’s tail near the wall of dirt next to the entry portal to the tunnel. She had gotten into the tunnel, but Dorian had no idea which room she had gone to, and the tunnel was huge. He was getting ready to contact the nearest rebel group to search the tunn
el, when he finally got an incoming contact from Michael Segev.

  “Package delivered, I’m on my way to tie up some loose ends,” Michael said. “Have you seen Rose? I can’t find her,” Dorian responded to Michael. “That’s one of the loose ends. I’ve hidden her in a storage room inside the Aberdeen tunnel. I’m heading there now. How would you like her exit to proceed?” Michael seemed out of breath, like he was running while he spoke. In fact, he was running across the park, trying to make it into the tunnel before the sun rose and the temperature climbed to 130 degrees Fahrenheit, in several minutes. He was not wearing an environmental suit because he’d left the hoverport at Hong Kong in a hurry. Plus, he had another drab brown, unmarked hoverjet to catch before the next morning.

  “Could you drop her off near our submersible at Aberdeen Harbor? I have made arrangements. Roxanne will be there also, if her escape is successful,” Dorian responded. “Will do,” Michael responded as he entered the tunnel just as the sun rose, ran down the pedestrian corridor to the small room, and entered to find Rose and Darcy waiting and impatient on the other side.

  “Well, I thought you’d forgotten about us,” Rose tapped her paw impatiently.

  “No time, we’ve got to run. I’ll explain on the way. Put these on.” Michael donned the enviro-protection suit he’d left in the room a week ago, and helped Rose and Darcy into their suits. They left via the regular pedestrian tunnel door and out the normal exit stairs used by all the other dog walkers, looking much like an individual taking his two large canines out for a poop.

  Once up top, the suits automatically screened out ultraviolet radiation and kept the encased individual at 70 degrees Fahrenheit. Michael and his canine companions reached the Ap Lei Chau Bridge Road then took a dual hoverbike for about five minutes, perhaps even passing by Roxanne in the robot-driven limo. A Buddhist procession was holding up traffic so they ditched the dual hoverbike and walked the rest of the way, weaving in and out of the procession, which was fine because dogs were sacred in Hong Kong, although not at the meat market.