by Helix Parker
“Tell me what I want to know and you can live.”
“Pull it out,” he said, his voice hardly a whisper.
“Tell me.”
“Pull it out, pull it out please. I’ll tell you anything you want. Pull it the cap out!”
I pulled out the knife, a spray of blood leaving a stream of dark red on the floor. I stood up and faced the man, looking him in the eyes.
“You bitch,” he said, grabbing his penis and pulling away with blood sopping down his fingers. “You capin’ bitch.”
The door swung open and his three friends were there, laughing and drunk. They saw the situation and they weren’t laughing anymore. The closest one to me went for a blaster tucked into his waistband. I elbowed him in the throat and then spun and caught his jaw with another elbow. As he flew back I kicked out and caught him with my heel on the jaw, pinning him against the wall. I slipped down to his throat and straightened my leg, the crackle of his windpipe reverberating against the walls as he went limp, my foot holding him up. I pulled away and he slid to the floor.
“Whoever tells me the name and location of the best information broker lives.”
One of the men, a small mousey one in the back, said, “I’ll tell you.”
The other two looked to him. I smiled and grabbed the man in front of me and spun his head nearly all the way around before flinging his corpse to the floor. The larger man, blood still pouring out of his genitals, tried to run for it but I grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him back. I pushed him against the wall.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you want to fuck me anymore?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, please. I have a wife and kids.”
“Really? You weren’t mentioning them a moment ago, were you?”
“Please don’t. My kids need me. Please.”
I leaned in close, my lips lightly touching his as I ran my tongue over them. A soft kiss … and then I pulled back and thrust my fingers into his eyes. Both of them popped out of the eye sockets and dangled against his cheeks. I ripped them away and flung them against the wall. He was screaming.
“You can live now, for your kids.”
I turned to the other man, who I noticed had urinated himself.
I took his arm and pulled him in and shut the door as the larger man was sobbing on the floor, trying to find his eyes.
“Who is he?” I said.
“Wh … who?”
“The information broker.”
“Delian Rex. That’s his name. Big guy. Obese. He got the orange.”
“What’s that?”
“The skin. If you on Casa too long your skin goes orange from somethin’ in the rocks.”
“Where is he?”
“In Flex downstairs. It’s a club. People … people dance and take stims and stuff.”
“If I find out you’re lying to me, you’ll be missing a lot more than your eyes.”
“Yes … yes I know. I’m not lying.”
I walked outside and back to the bar and found Karma sitting at the table the men had been sitting at. She was smoking their cigars and sipping their ale.
“Where’d they go?”
“They just didn’t have the endurance for a party. Come on, I found who we’re looking for.”
3
Flex was in the lower floor of the outpost. Even on a sparsely populated planet like this with its inhabitants starving to death, they made room for a dance club. Pleasure above all else. The club was decorated in chrome and light blue steel and was cleaner than the two bars upstairs. You could see it was more for the aristocracy, and I guessed the aristocracy on this planet consisted wholly of slavers, cloners and narcotics smugglers.
We walked to a booth in the corner and sat down, watching a few dancers on the floor. They were sweating and appeared like shadows, rhythmically moving to the bassed music coming through the walls.
I scanned the room. A few miners, some thugs, some normal patrons here for a drink … and in the opposite corner from us a man. He was old and overweight with gray hair that came down to his shoulders. He would sip a purple drink and then look out over the dancers and then stare at his drink again.
I walked over to him and sat down. I didn’t say anything at first and he didn’t acknowledge me. He finally finished his drink and one of the server-bots came over and poured him another without him having to ask.
“This is a dangerous place for a young lady to be by herself.”
“The same could be said for an old man.”
“I lived a long life, I’m ready to go.”
“As am I.”
He looked at me and held my gaze. “What is it you want from me, offworlder?”
I pulled up stills of the clone I was looking for, along with the ship of the man who’d helped her. “This is a fugitive clone. I believe she is either here or King’s Grace. I need to know where and how to find her.”
“And what would someone willing to help you expect in return?”
“What do you want?”
“Normally I would say units. And a lot of them. But you’ve caught me in a rather precarious spot.”
“And what’s so precarious about it?”
“I need to leave the planet. Soon.”
“In trouble with the locals?”
“You could say that. You could also say that I’ve outstayed my welcome. There’s only two types of people on this planet: those that slave away in the mines and those that provide them with entertainment and pleasure. If you were to choose the latter, there is always a line behind you of people ready to slit your throat to take your spot. I’m afraid my line has grown rather large.”
“Why not just rent a ship yourself?”
“The guards at the spaceports are paid off to notify them. The only way off the planet is for me to be smuggled off. And so far no one has been willing to do that. If they detect I am on your ship, they will shoot you down.”
I thought a moment. “Tell me where they are first.”
“No, after we’re off planet.”
“You can’t be trusted. You may not even know where they are; after I take you offworld you could just lie to me.”
“I’m assuming you couldn’t be trusted either. So we’re in a bit of a stalemate.”
I looked to Karma. “Then let’s do this: tell me what planet they’re on. If I believe you, I’ll take you.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. I have not heard of any clones landing here and I would have certainly heard. They are therefore on King’s Grace. If you give me a few moments, I can tell you when they landed there.”
I rose. “You’ve been most helpful.”
“What about me?”
“Oh, yes, that.”
I pulled out my blade and ignited it. I thrust it through his chest until it went up to the hilt and the blade was sticking through the other side of the booth. I pulled it out and replaced it in its sheath before walking back to Karma.
“Let’s go. They’re on King’s Grace.”
NEPHI
I stared at the image in disbelief. The woman in black had cut through the other clones like they were made of dust. My targets were there and the woman sprinted for her and was knocked back by a blast of energy.
We hopped into the transport, Tiberius, his assistant, Monica and Eight. I drove. We dashed around the hill and came up to the side of the house where the man, Larso, was helping the female. The woman in black was fighting off the elites.
Larso saw me and went for his blaster.
“That won’t be necessary,” I said. “If you want to live get in. If you want to die you’re more than welcome to stay here.”
He thought a moment and then helped the female clone climb in before doing the same.
We roared down the streets, leaving the carnage behind me. The woman glanced to me, her eyes narrowing to slits.
I looked to Monica. “You sure about this?”
“It is ninety-nine point three percent certain now.”
We sped through trees and forests and the towns until we came to the city. I kept glancing back to the clone but she was unresponsive and looked pale, like she was close to death. Just when I thought we were home free, sirens went on behind us. I pulled over and Tiberius was saying something but I wasn’t paying attention as to what.
The authority came up to our hovercar and began speaking to Tiberius. My hand slid down to the blaster at my side.
The authority looked at me. “Where you going?”
“Spaceport.”
“What business did you have in King’s Grace?”
“Pleasure, what else.”
He eyed me and then took a few steps back. “I’m having you detained until we verify your identity. Turn off the engines, now.”
Tiberius spoke in a desperate voice now. “Authority, please! We’ve done nothing wrong. Why must you take up this man’s valuable time and—”
“I told you to shut your mouth, Tiberius. I’ve had just about enough of your—”
The man’s brains spattered over the nice sidewalks. I replaced the pistol and turned to Tiberius who was staring at me in shock. “Drive.”
We sped away from the scene and back to the spaceport. Our vessel was waiting for us. Several authorities would no doubt be alerted as to our presence so I had Eight run to the vessel and start the engines as I helped Larso and the female off.
“Help get me on the ship,” I said to Tiberius.
“My contract has ended. I am no longer available.”
With that, he and his servant stormed off. Larso and I carried the female onto the vessel and I could hear chatter on the comm. The spaceport was asking for a confirmation identification for lift off.
“They’ll shoot us down if we don’t give them those,” Larso said.
“Monica, do we have any?”
“One moment, Nephi … confirmed.”
We loaded the female onto the vessel and I ran to the cockpit and began the procedures for liftoff. Monica transmitted the codes and I sat quietly as I waited for a response.
“Identification confirmed. You’re cleared for takeoff.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and fired up the engines and lifted off the flight deck. We hovered a few moments before the ship dipped back and began going vertical and we shot into the sky. The suns were blinding but their light soon faded, replaced by the cold blackness of space.
“Monica, take the ship will you. Get us to the nearest Republic space facility.”
“The nearest facility is Goshin, which will take four standard galactic hours to reach.”
“That’s fine. Send word to Kooney to have a squadron of Elites meet us.”
I unbuckled and headed toward the back. Lying on a bunk with a blanket over her was the clone. The ship’s med-bot was tending to her. It was a plebian model, not equipped for severe trauma, meant more for treating cuts and bruises. But he would have to do for now.
Larso sat next to her in a chair. He was playing with something in his hands, it appeared like a toy or something similar.
“You put your neck out pretty far for just a clone,” I said.
He looked up to me. “She’s not just a clone.”
“Really? What is she then?”
“She’s a person.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Speak to her when she wakes up and then tell me that.”
“I don’t need to speak with her. I know who she is, what she’s capable of.”
“You don’t know anything about her.”
I walked over and looked at the med-bot at work. “I know she might die. And I know if she doesn’t she’ll be executed by the administration.” I exhaled. “We’ll be to a PR facility soon. I would recommend you work on your story.”
“Story for what?”
“Story as to why you helped a fugitive clone escape justice. It’s a capital offense, Larso Moore.”
I turned and left the room, glancing back once to see Larso reach out and lightly touch the clone’s hand.
2
It wasn’t long until we arrived at Goshin. The facility was really nothing more than a refueling station but it held a plethora of suites designed for traveling bureaucrats and ambassadors. We were greeted by a guard of administrative authorities as soon as our vessel docked. A small man in a red and gray uniform was standing at the head of the guards as I stepped off.
“Marshal, it is an absolute pleasure to have you here. An absolute pleasure. My name is Administrator Hess and I’ll be standing in until Administrator Kooney arrives. Eh, you do have the clone still, do you not?”
“I got her. She’s lying on a bunk in one of the crew quarters. She’s severely injured. If you want her to survive I recommend getting her down to a med bay as soon as possible.”
“Of course.” He turned and nodded to a man who took four others with him onto the vessel. “I trust she was not too much trouble?”
“Not too much, no.”
Just then Eight stepped off the ship and the administrator looked like he might faint. He didn’t say anything as Eight sauntered up to me and stood there quietly.
“Is that a series Eight?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Remarkable. I’ve never actually seen one in person.”
I brushed past him. “Let me know when Kooney gets here. He owes me something. I plan on collecting as soon as possible.”
AVA
I remember little except rage, pure hatred that drove me forward … and then a white light and pain. When I first regained consciousness I was lying on my back staring at a steel ceiling. I glanced over and saw a med-bot at work on my torso. I glanced down and saw nothing but a heap of red gore, bits of organ, and ribs sticking out of my suit. I lay my head back down and let the bot work.
“How do you feel?”
I looked over and saw Larso sitting next to me. He had something in his hands and was tossing it lightly back and forth.
“Where are we?” I gasped, barely able to get the words out.
“A Republic vessel, headed for the Goshin facility. We’ve been captured, Ava.”
I looked away, up at the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter. My mission is complete.”
“It doesn’t matter that you’re going to be executed?”
“No.”
“It doesn’t matter that I’m going to be too?”
I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this. This isn’t your fight.”
“The hell it isn’t. You’re going to destroy Earth and you think this isn’t my fight?” He stood and walked over, looking down at me. “Ava, you can’t do this. This is … monstrous.”
“There’s nothing I can do.”
“You’re talking about a full scale war between humanity and clones. What do you mean there’s nothing you can do? Do you know how many casualties will be on both sides? Do you have any idea the enormity of what you’re doing? This could wipe out both our races.”
Several men entered the room in gray and black uniforms. They held smooth black blasters, all aimed at me. One man came and stood over me, looking at my wounds. He was bald and his eyes were gray. He reached down and put a finger into my ribs and I screamed as he twisted.
Larso jumped at him and one of the men bashed his blaster into his face, sending him against the wall as the other men shoved the med-bot out of the way and lifted me to my feet. The pain was so intense I vomited, but the only thing that came out was blood. They lifted me by my arms and carried me off the vessel.
I came out under the harsh lights of the flight deck. Dozens of men stood staring at me with hateful eyes. I said nothing as they dragged me off and through sliding doors to a long corridor. It was cold here as air blasted in through vents below and above. I was carried for what seemed like a long time while I vomited and dry heaved, but they didn’t stop.
We got to a room near the end and I was thrown in. The pain coursed through me as the wound in my
stomach wasn’t closed. One of the men kicked me, sending bits of organ and a spray of blood over the walls and I screamed.
I lay on the floor weeping as they left and the door slid closed behind them.
2
When I woke I was lying on the bunk in the room I had been thrown in. Two med-bots, massive and made of smooth steel, were busy at work on my wounds. One of them was giving me injections of various kinds and I could feel the numbing effects of a painkiller.
“You should thank your friend,” a voice said from across the room. “He fought hard to get you medical attention.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Nephi Sestus. I am … was, with the criminal investigation command on Earth. I’ve gone through quite a bit to find you.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing. I’ve notified the man who hired me and he’s coming to deal with you. I just wanted to show you something.”
He walked over and a small orb was in his hand. He pressed it together and a three dimensional image flickered to life. It was of a child, a young boy, and his mother playing on some grass with a dog. A male came into view, smiling, and picked up the child. It was Nephi.
“Your family?” I murmured.
He nodded. “My only descendent. He, ah … died, along with his mother … on Celina during the Saturnine Festival. The festival that you detonated half a kiloton of explosives and killed over two thousand people.” He was crying now and, unlike most men I knew, wasn’t hiding his tears. “I just want to know why. Why did they have to die? Why did you choose that target?”
I cringed at the thought of having to justify such an action. It was logical, a step in the progression of the war that was coming. But it was no less painful. I had never had to deal with one of the victim’s families, and it was something I had been dreading for a long time.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.
“What? What did you say? Did you say you’re sorry? Well you don’t get to be sorry. You don’t get to apologize. There is no apology for what you’ve done. No redemption.”