by R J Johnson
“There’s no time now,” she said softly. “We’ll talk when we see each other in person.”
Meade was about to tell Emeline he loved her when the connection suddenly closed.
Momentarily stunned by Emeline’s distance, Meade took a moment to refocus on the immediate problem – If Kansas was right, that last dreadnaught was staffed by a bunch of brainy, creative clones that knew they had nothing to lose.
It was not an ideal situation.
He opened his armbar and signaled to the third dreadnaught. He didn’t really expect an answer, so when an impossibly beautiful man and woman answered his call, he was momentarily speechless.
“Good afternoon Mr. Meade,” the woman said, greeting him over the connection. “I understand you’re the man who killed the professor?”
“Yes,” he managed after a moment. He didn’t see the point in lying. They’d likely see through any deception.
“Good,” the man said.
Meade cocked his head, looking at them curiously. “You’re not angry?”
They shrugged.
“He was keeping human beings as cattle, experimenting on them as if they weren’t sentient beings. Even if we have a level of sentience beyond them, that doesn’t make us any better than they are. We believe you did humanity a great service when your people destroyed the dreadnaughts and you killed the professor,” the woman on his display said.
“We also know the odds are low the Coalition or Consortium governments will allow us to keep our lives after the professor’s deception,” the man added. “We’ve come to the conclusion that we must take the path of Rosetta and follow it out of the system as this ship was designed.”
Meade shook his head. “There isn’t a chance in hell the Coalition or Consortium fast attacks let you get into orbit. They’ll blow you away the first chance they get.”
“If we have to fight, then we will fight,” the woman said, her voice leaving no doubt she was serious. “We were created by an evil man, but I can assure you Mr. Meade, that we are not evil. We’re explorers. We think we deserve a second chance to live our lives.”
Meade looked at their faces and wondered if they were telling him the truth. What right did he have to tell them they needed to surrender themselves to the Coalition? Odds were, they’d end up in some hellhole of a prison while the Coalition and Consortium covered up their failures.
That’s what they did.
Meade decided it was time to take charge and try a different tactic.
“You promise to leave the system peacefully, I think I can sell the leaders of the Coalition and Consortium on letting you go,” he said. “But no tricks. The second I get a whiff of you dealing in bad faith with the two hyperpowers, my offer is off the table.”
“No tricks,” the man said shaking his head. He looked at his companion and exchanged glances. “We’ll leave peacefully. We must insist on keeping the weapons and supplies that are already installed here. They will be necessary for our journey.”
“That’ll be a hard sell, but I’ll do what I can,” Meade said. “You’ll probably have to be comfortable with a heavy escort until you’re out of the system.”
“How do we know the Coalition and Consortium will keep their end of the bargain?” the woman asked.
Meade grinned.
“At this point, they owe me more than a few favors,” he said. “When I give you a guarantee of safety, you can count on my word.”
The two clones exchanged glances and then looked back at him, nodding.
Meade felt a huge sigh of relief flow through him. “Good. I’ll make a few calls and then get back to you.”
He paused, “By the way, what do I call you two?”
“Adam,” the man said.
“Eve,” the woman said.
Chapter Seventy-Three
Pyrrhic Victory
It didn’t take Meade long to secure the deal with the Coalition and Consortium powers-that-be to allow the ‘Creatives’ to leave the system. Like he told Adam and Eve, leaders with both hyperpowers owed him more than a few favors at this point and they knew it.
He also suspected that they were grateful for the opportunity to wash their hands of the entire incident.
The final dreadnaught launched from the Venusian port, taking off for its journey into the unknown. The ship’s official destination was a star located about 26-light years away which reportedly had several candidate planets able to host life.
Of course, the deal was made with assurances.
The collected navies of the Coalition and Consortium converged on Venus to escort the dreadnaught through the system. The professor’s impressive technology could have allowed the massive ship to outpace its escorts, but the creatives stayed true to their word and allowed the fast attacks to stay close.
Meade waited outside the Venusian port where Sarah’s fast attack was due to land for repairs. Thanks to the amount of damage her ship had taken during the battle with the dreadnaught, Sarah wasn’t going on the two-week escort mission.
Meade stood at the port holding flowers when the fast attack landed. He’d been looking forward to being reunited with Emeline ever since the professor first took them hostage over a week ago.
The door to the ship opened and he saw Emeline standing there. He rushed forward to grab her and pick her up forgetting about the nanites.
She didn’t resist, falling into his arms.
Meade shook himself back to reality, dropping Emeline immediately, “Oh my God, no, I’m so sorry!”
Emeline rolled to the ground and then picked herself up, dusting her shirt off. “Good to see you too Meade.”
“The nanites,” he said weakly. “I forgot they were still…”
Emeline waved a hand, “That’s not something we need to worry about any more.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You found an antidote?”
She stared back at him for a moment. “The dreadnaught’s medical bay was stocked with everything I needed. We’re safe.”
Meade stepped forward, not hearing anything other than it was safe for him to touch her again. He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her passionately.
Only there was something wrong. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel… like Em.
In a flash he thought back to the laboratory and the clone he had seen there. He dropped her and stared, backing away from the woman in front of him.
“Meade,” she said, her voice shaking. “You have to listen to me.”
“Are you Emeline?” Meade asked, his voice shaking. He didn’t know if he wanted the answer, but he knew deep down that he needed to hear it.
“I’m a version of your Emeline,” she said softly. “But, I’m not your version.”
He stood there, feeling the world spin and fall apart all around him. It was the professor’s final fuck you to him.
“I’m sorry Meade. Your Emeline… she died saving me and Kansas,” Emmy moved to console Meade, but he turned away, holding his face.
“No…” he whispered. “That can’t be true…”
“I’m so sorry…” the clone whispered as she extended her hand to him, touching his arm. “She loved you so much. Believe me, I know that better than anyone.”
Meade stumbled back, almost as if repulsed by her touch.
“Jim,” she began.
“No,” he said, holding up a hand. “I… need… a moment.”
She stood there, watching him as he processed his emotions. This wasn’t his Emeline. The woman he had fallen in love with over the course of his entire life was gone forever. And now this imposter was telling him it would be OK?
“I need to get out of here,” he said, stepping to the door. It slid open and walked through, not looking back at Emeline and the tears running down her face.
Chapter Seventy-Four
A Promise Kept
Meade spent the next few days being debriefed by various officials on both sides. He told his story repeatedly to each person who asked, almost robo
tically at times as he recited it for the Coalition and Consortium’s records.
Eventually, the two hyperpowers got tired of him and let him go. He knew they couldn’t hold a national hero like him in jail forever.
Kansas told him the story of how Emeline had died, but it had all sounded like a buzzing noise to him. Eventually, when he finally got the full story, he felt pleased and mad as hell at Emeline for going out the way she did.
Of course she'd sacrificed herself for the greater good. That’s just who she was.
By the time the hyperpowers let him go, Emmy was nowhere to be found.
Kansas had already returned to Mars on an earlier transport, so he was all alone in finding a ride back home. He managed to convince Sarah to allow him to hitch a ride back on her ship, but it was nowhere near as comfortable as the professor’s private yacht had been.
Instead of a private cabin with running water and whatever he wanted to eat, he was back to SUMP rations and hot-swapping a rack with a petty officer who worked in engineering and smelled like cabbage.
The two-week trip back to Mars was uncomfortable to say the least – and he already hated space travel. But as all journeys did, it eventually concluded when Sarah dropped him off at the Martian spaceport.
They stood there, staring at one another. Sarah knew what he had lost and knew better than to bring it up with him. After all, that was Rule #9
Rule #9: Obsessing over the past is wasted energy.
“Well,” she said, giving him a half-salute. “I’ll see you on the next one.”
“To the next one,” he said, sounding glum.
She paused and he knew she had to say something.
“You ever hear from her?” she asked.
Sarah had been avoiding this question the entire voyage and he appreciated that about her. But she was his friend and was concerned for him.
“No,” he replied. “I don’t expect to either.”
Sarah turned to him, touching his shoulder. “It’ll be all right Jim. You’ll bounce back. You always do.”
He gave her a wan smile. She looked at him again with concern but, returned the same worried nod he knew he would have to get used to seeing from his friends over the next few days after they heard what happened.
Meade returned to the apartment that he shared with Emeline back on E-Block to find a few of her things gone. Emmy had moved out, which wasn’t all that surprising to him.
She had left him a note. She wasn’t cruel after all.
The bar would be placed in Roxanne’s hands to manage. The casino magnate would take what she needed to run the place and a ten percent fee and the rest of the profits would go to him.
She also gave him the deed to the apartment over her bar. Emmy wrote that she hoped Meade would use the money to concentrate on his P.I. business and take a few more pro bono cases along the way. She was always looking out for him and the other folks in E-Block.
No wonder he had fallen so hard for her.
It was still early, but he found himself wandering down to the bar to see his newest property. The place was riddled with memories of Emeline. He looked around and imagined some of their best days they spent together here. He could almost see the memories come alive in front of him as he thought back on the secret meetings, tournaments and parties they had held in her bar over the last few years.
He felt the tears welling up and he sat down, pouring himself a drink.
He stayed that way for a few days. Meade sat at the bar while the world passed him by. Well-wishers would occasionally stop by and try recruiting him for some cause or another. But he wasn’t ready for any of that, and he politely (and on more than one occasion, not-so-politely) declined their offers.
For the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like anything. He felt… defeated. He had won, but still he found himself having lost everything he cared about.
After the Venus Incident, the Martian Independence Movement had dissolved and reformed themselves into the Martian Planetary Caucus, or MPC for short. The MiMs had accomplished their mission and many of the revolutionaries were returning to their lives now that the war was over. They had made it clear they needed politicians for the next phase of Martian independence, not generals, and hadn’t exactly been inviting Meade to their parties.
On the other hand, the MPC was finally doing some good for Martian citizens by taking advantage of the peace and building relationships with the Coalition and Consortium. Palmetto had become one of their biggest advocates, assisting with many of the delicate negotiations.
For his part, Meade had lost track of time and wasn’t even sure what day it was. He knew it had to be a weekday judging by the programs on the wireless.
He watched the morning show anchors drone on about the current state of the system on the wireless in the bar. Before the Venus Incident (as the media had taken to calling the battle with the professor’s dreadnaughts), regular business between the Coalition and Consortium was best described as chaotic. But, after the Venus incident, things had taken a strange turn. People were cooperating with each other. Old rivalries were being set aside for new opportunities as a reform movement spread like wildfire through the ranks of both hyperpowers.
One of the primary drivers of the reforms was Palmetto. The man had taken responsibility for mediating many of the disputes between both sides and had proven himself a skilled negotiator. There were already whispers of him running for Coalition President, but the Ambassador was always quick to wave those away, even as his people prepared for a run.
Through blurry eyes, Meade reached behind the bar to grab several of the necessary ingredients for a spicy Bloody Mary. He ignored the talking heads above him on the wireless who were arguing back and forth about whether Palmetto was qualified to become the President of the Coalition.
He sipped at the Bloody Mary, sucking air through his teeth and enjoying the spiciness on his tongue. It was already mid-morning and he had a lot of drinking to catch up on. Besides, what else was he gonna do? Everyone here was treating him with kid gloves after he returned from Venus.
It wasn’t because he had saved the world (yet again). It was because they knew he missed Emeline.
The door to Emeline’s bar opened and Kansas poked his head in.
Meade spotted the lanky cowboy at the door and waved him over.
“You’re just in time,” he said, slightly slurring his words, saluting his mentor with his drink. “It’s whiskey-o’clock.”
“That so?” his friend asked, setting his hat down on the bar. Kansas raised a finger and waved at Simone who returned with a soda water with a twist of lemon.
Meade stared at Kansas’ drink, confused. “Thought you always say anything that didn’t strip the chrome off an aerocycle wasn’t worth drinking.
Kansas looked at him and took a sip from his drink, appearing to enjoy it. “I used to say a lot of things.”
Meade grunted and threw back the rest of his drink setting it down in front of Simone.
Kansas watched him for a moment and grunted.
“You wanna say something old man, you may as well do it,” Meade growled.
Simone returned with a refill for Meade, her eyes looking disapprovingly at him.
“I want the drink, not the judgement Simone,” Meade snapped not looking up.
She grunted and rolled her eyes, leaving the shot behind.
Meade took a sip of his drink, enjoying the fire of the whiskey burning down his throat.
“Boy, you’re aware of the fact that you won’t find another one like Emeline at the bottom of a bottle, right?” Kansas asked him.
“Who says I’m looking?” Meade groused. He swirled the remaining amber liquid in his glass and waved once again at Simone.
She walked back over, her face set in grim determination.
“Sorry pal, that was your last one for this morning,” she said.
“Wait,” he looked around the bar, feeling his head spin. “What time is it?”
&nb
sp; “Time for you to mourn Emeline properly,” Kansas said.
Meade ignored him looking at the remaining whiskey in his glass. Didn’t matter if Simone wouldn’t serve him. He still had a stash of Emeline’s private reserve hidden upstairs.
Kansas placed a hand on top of the cup, preventing him from finishing the drink. Meade looked up at his mentor, steam coming out of his ears. He felt the anger drain out of him once he saw the sadness in his mentor’s eyes.
“You know kid, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how I’ve been given what I’m calling a second chance at life.”
Meade tried swatting the old man’s hand off the drink, but his friend remained firm.
“I’m trying a few new things. After the Venus incident, I felt like the universe was trying to tell me I needed to get out of my comfort zone.”
“You died,” Meade grunted. “I’d call that the ultimate in getting out of your comfort zone.”
Kansas’s voice became quiet. “Damn, that’s mighty cold son.”
Meade looked up at his mentor and realized the man had a point. “Jeez, Kansas, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m being an asshole and missing Emeline is no excuse.”
Kansas stared at him, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand.
“You died too, you know.”
Meade looked at his friend, not understanding, “What are you talking about?”
“There was a clone of you on board that dreadnaught we were on,” Kansas said. “He died on that ship trying to give us time to escape an ambush.”
Meade snorted. “Well, that was downright gentlemanly of me.”
“They tell me, us clones are near exact copies – including our memories and how our brain works and all that,” Kansas said. “I’m guessing you’d have done the exact same thing if you were there.”
“How do you know that?” Meade asked, sounding irritated.
“It’s in your nature,” his mentor answered quietly.
“What’s your point?” Meade asked. “That I would’ve died? Here’s some news for ya - over the course of my life I’ve shoulda been a goner a half-dozen times by now. But for some damn reason, the universe has deemed it necessary to keep kicking my ass and I’m startin’ to take it personal.”