Chapter 6
The computer told Garret who was at his door and he gave his silent consent for it to open the door. He was lying on his bed, that first night of their journey, looking out the windows at the stars, waiting for sleep to take him. When the figure appeared in his dark doorway, he let a smile crack on his face, even if the other person couldn’t see the expression.
“Couldn’t find a better bed for the night?” Garret asked quietly.
“Do you mind?” Gary’s voice was almost petulant, but it had a tremor in it that struck at Garret’s heart.
“No.” Garret said softly and moved over so that when Gary crawled into his bed, barely pausing to slip out of his uniform, leaving only his white lomex long underwear on, there was plenty of room for the younger clone of the same model. Gary wasted no time snuggling up to him, and Garret was glad he was wearing his own cotton briefs. He hadn’t… attended to himself earlier tonight and the skin-on-skin was just enough to remind him that he was in bed with another male – a male who wouldn’t have minded the added attention.
“Thanks.” Gary said softly as he put his head on Garret’s chest and let out a big sigh.
“What’s the matter?” Garret asked softly, really concerned at that moment.
“You were right.” Gary answered with an almost-sob.
“What do you mean?” Garret inquired, not really sure what exactly he’d been right about. There were so many possible answers.
“They don’t understand about me sleeping with them.” Gary answered, giving Garret a very clear picture. “For some reason they think it means I should treat them special. They don’t understand that it’s… its just pleasure, nothing more.”
“It took me a while to understand that myself and Deci was very patient.” Garret answered truthfully. “I doubt anyone who hasn’t worked in a pleasure house would quite understand it the way we do.”
“It just makes it rough.” Gary moaned softly. “I need it… the touch, the pleasure. It’s part of who I am. Sometimes I wish you’d never bought my contract.”
“Just sometimes?” Garret asked with a little surprise. The stars above them barely moved, even though the ship was approaching forty percent of the speed of light. They’d be just over half the speed of light shortly after breakfast, and cruise an extra hour at that speed just to let people’s breakfast settle before making the final jump into the Lemos system.
“Yeah, I’m starting to really like my job.” Gary admitted, talking more to Garret’s nipple than to his face. “Now that we’re actually carrying passengers and everything, it makes things more real, not all that different from working in the pleasure house. I mean, I’m still providing pleasure, just in a different way.”
“Remember my warnings about passengers…” Gary started to say with a sinking feeling but the snort from Gary cut him off.
“If Kathy’s little tirade tonight hadn’t convinced me, I still remember your discussion about licensing for pleasure service.” Gary said sarcastically. “I’m not going to get you into trouble for being an ‘unlicensed pleasure center’.”
“Good.” Garret said with a little bit of relief. It had taken some sharp words to drum that into Gary’s head. He sucked in his breath though as Gary began planting soft kisses on his left nipple while tweaking the right one. “Gary… please… don’t.”
“Why not?” Gary asked. “You understand it’s just… physical pleasure.”
“Yes, but… I’m taken.” Garret reminded him softly.
“It’s not like you didn’t have sex with clients at the house.” Gary reminded him and a wave of guilt rushed over Garret for a moment.
“That was different.” Garret asserted. “I had no choice then, I had to do those things. I have a choice now. Billy will understand the difference.”
“You told me he’s getting married.” Gary said sourly, but he still stopped what he’d been doing.
“He is.” Garret admitted. They’d managed to catch up on electronic mail the last time they prepared for their jump, taking in nearly twenty terabytes of information in holo-news updates and personal messages as well as a few dozen corporate messages from Marjaan. One of those messages had been from Billy, announcing his engagement to be married. The marriage had been arranged through the family of course, but that was tradition. The announcement would not have gone out until Billy had met his bride-to-be and liked her. “We’re part of one of the greatest Houses in the Republic, Gary. Billy has to get married so he can carry on the House to future generations. That doesn’t mean we can’t continue loving each other though, and he will expect me to be as faithful to him as I can. He understands I had no choice while the pleasure house held my contract, but now that it doesn’t, I can be faithful to him and that’s what counts.”
“But he doesn’t have to be faithful to you?” Gary snorted. “He’s going to be running around with some trollop and then seeing you on the side? Doesn’t sound too fair to me.”
“It’s not exactly fair, but life rarely ever is fair.” Garret said with resigned sigh. It was a hard lesson to learn, but one he’d learned early in life. “Still, I’d rather have Billy some of the time. Besides, he’s in the military, and he’s going to have a long career there, at least until his forties, and then he’ll retire into the family business, taking over for our parents when they get ready for their final retirement. Meanwhile, I have this business to run. We won’t see each other much, but neither will his wife.”
“Who is it, anyway?” Gary asked with another sigh as he settled into a more restful position, his head further up on Garret’s shoulder and away from the erogenous nipples.
“Imaline Couturo of House Couturo.” Garret answered with a sigh. Couturo was a relatively minor House, and Imaline was the youngest of three children and the only girl, but she was highly educated, a geneticist, and more than qualified to take up a career in the Lars family businesses. Marja had even sent a holo-message of her own, proudly telling Garret that his new sister-in-law would be working out of the primary residence and assist in the development of a new model of cow for one of the lower-oxygen colony worlds.
“Sounds like a stuck up pig.” Gary snorted and Garret had to suppress a laugh. It wasn’t right to call his brother’s wife-to-be a stuck up pig, even if he was in love with his brother. He had no right to be jealous. Billy and his family had done so much for him during his life with them, including giving him the resources so that he was now where he was, light-years from Peladon and in command of his own ship, his own fleet of ships.
“Be nice.” Garret chided the younger clone. “You haven’t met her yet.”
“Neither have you.” Gary retorted and Garret chuckled softly. Gary had a way with mixing heavy topics with humor that always amazed Garret.
“So what happened with Kathy?” Garret asked to change the topic, and to see if he would have to defuse the situation Gary had gotten into with the True Born crew member.
“She thought that us sleeping together meant she didn’t have to work the graveyard shift.” Gary said with a sigh. “When I told her it didn’t change her work assignment she got all huffy about it and demanded I ‘fix things’ for her.”
“Naturally you refused.” Garret said with a sigh. “Who started the physical relationship?”
“She did.” Gary said with a sigh that matched Garret’s. “I even found out she told two of her workmates that she was going to get into my bed and get off the graveyard shift.”
“We’ll sever her employment when we return to Peladon.” Garret decided immediately.
“Isn’t that a little harsh?” Gary asked in a worried tone.
“It’s bad for discipline.” Garret stated firmly. “No one should think they can sleep their way to favors.”
“Even me?” Gary asked lightly.
“Even you.” Garret said with a smile on his face. For some reason he felt much more relaxed now, and found he was drifting off to sleep. “Good night, Gary.”
“Good night, Captain Lars.” Gary said with a teasing tone before letting out a long breath. Garret was asleep before Gary finished that breath.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“We have stolen the childhoods of our children.” Timal Carson said huffily at the Captain’s table during breakfast the next morning. He was a Senior Vice-President in Marko Blashame’s company, and an outspoken liberal on the order of Marja Lars herself. Once again Garret found himself wondering how a conservative from Davlan Tremere’s faction like Marko Blashame had suffered the man’s rise in his corporation.
“How exactly have we done that?” Anova asked with a beautiful smile. Her camera wasn’t present at this breakfast, and had indeed been absent at all the meals served at the Captain’s Table on the voyage.
“It’s a carryover from the clone G&E facilities.” Marko Blashame said with some distaste as he picked a small bite of Axon sausage. The distaste was not for the food, but rather the topic. Garret knew for a fact that the sausages were among his most favorite foods. “No offense, Captain, but the G&E facilities teach clones to conduct business as adults by the time they are sixteen, and so over the last two generations our educational programs have changed. The children of the upper classes are of course implanted with strip readers, albeit of much higher quality than what clones receive, and with that added tool they are able to learn much faster with only the need for a few tutors.”
“As little as fifty years ago there were over eighty private schools on Peladon alone.” Timal Carson asserted with a stab of his fork at Anova. “Now there are just two of them left. The number of Basic Education schools funded by the government for the poor and middle class have dwindled as well now that the middle class are able to afford basic strip-readers to be installed in their children when they reach the age of six. Labor laws were changed to reflect that children were now able to perform work by the time they are sixteen. Universities and Colleges now admit children as young as fourteen to their halls, and the only reason they haven’t dwindled as well is that they’ve managed to change how they teach!”
“They emphasize more ‘practical’ and ‘laboratory’ sections instead of traditional lecture courses.” Garret added to the conversation, receiving approving nods from most of the men and women at the table. They were all True Borns, and all worked for Blashame except Anova and Mierson, the Gene Corps lead officer. “Most of my time at the Academy was spent in simulation training, putting the concepts and theories learned through strip-training to actual use. Instead of lecture courses we had debate courses where the Traditional Arts were discussed and debated at length. The strip-learning implants have changed society, Gosspedene Carson, they’ve made the youth of society able to function at an earlier age. I cannot speak for the public sector, but among military ranks that was vitally important. The war cost us many, many millions of people, including thousands of the best True Born men and women. If the military had to wait even another two or three years for young officers to fill out the ranks, we might have lost the war.”
“We lost thousands of people, and millions of clones.” Mierson said with a frown towards Garret. Blashame shot Garret a warning look.
“My apologies, Gospedene Mierson.” Garret said with a slight bow of his head, not nearly deep enough to be mistaken as the expected obeisance of a contracted clone to a True Born, but rather the expected slight incline of an apology from one man to another. Mierson caught the double meaning of the words and gesture and frowned but could not take public umbrage. Marko had been quite forward in one of their private talks in warning Garret that the Gene Corps officer reported directly to Tremere on everything he observed about Garret. “I am a product of two worlds, and at times it is difficult to remember the separations between the two.”
“That experiment should never have been allowed.” Mierson barked with genuine outrage in his voice. “It’s a violation of nearly every precept since the first days of cloning to produce a clone with normal eye color. It is an even greater outrage to raise a clone outside of a G&E facility, in the home of our citizens, much less in a Great House! Clones can be made to fulfill menial jobs, and functions no self-respecting human would ever take on, but for them to be considered to be able to fill any real human position is ludicrous.”
“Clones are good enough to die for the Republic, but not to lead the Republic.” Garret said in a carefully neutral voice with an equally neutral expression on his face. Mierson looked at him for a long moment, trying to decide what his intentions were with that phrase, as was everyone else at the table. Certainly this had been the liveliest of their discussions on this voyage. They were five light years from their destination, and everyone at this table would be disembarking after their last jump in little more than an hour.
“That is the general consensus of the Republic.” Blashame said after the silence stretched too long. “Whether you like it or not, Captain, that is what most of the Republic believes.”
“One of the major differences between clones and True Borns that I’ve discovered has been the somewhat common need of True Borns for religion.” Garret stated in a firm but quiet voice that left those at the far end of the table, including Anova and Mierson, to lean towards him slightly so that they could catch his words.
“What do you mean, Captain?” Anova asked with a real look of confusion on her face. “We all know there is no official religion of the Republic, that our member worlds and citizens are allowed to practice whatever religion they wish. Most of the citizenry express some belief in a God, although less than thirty-six percent of them regularly attend a religious service, and around twenty-nine percent are official members of a church, temple, mosque, or synagogue.”
“Eighty-nine percent of the Republic True Born population expresses a belief in a God or deity or super-natural Creator.” Garret informed her, using that same quiet but firm voice. “Humanity has never known their creator, they have never known for sure why they were created, or for those who believe in evolution, why they evolved. For the thousands of years of recorded human history, True Born humans have always sought answers to those questions. Seeking those answers has led to religious beliefs, and when opposing beliefs have clashed, there has been war more often than not. The Republic exists today because of one such religious conflict, and the Republic has always sought to minimize the differences of its citizens based on religious beliefs.”
‘What’s your point?” Mierson demanded huffily.
“You of all people should have already guessed my point.” Garret said with a smile.
“Clones have always known their creator.” Carson stated with a hint of awe in his voice and a look of respect for Garret.
“Exactly, Mr. Carson.” Garret said with a pleased smile. “Clones always know who their Creator is, if not the specific individual who designed us, we know that Humanity has created us for its needs.”
“You were created by the Republic for its needs.” Mierson stated angrily with a light suffusion of red filling his cheeks.
“I was, as a clone made in the Republic.” Garret allowed. “Yet, I’m not speaking just about the clones fortunate enough to have been created in the Republic. As a student at the Academy I studied some of the interrogation tapes of captured clones from both the Sol Empire and from clones separated from their Federation units.”
“Why were you allowed to do that?” Mierson interrupted again.
“I was designed to take the place of True Born officers on the front line.” Garret responded with a shrug. “In order to do that, I needed to understand our enemies and our allies. That was part of my training. After reviewing those interrogations, I’m confident there are some basic similarities between clones of all three Stellar Governments.
“This is one of them. Clones have always had certain questions answered for us. We are created by Humanity. Humanity has created us to serve in functions they find distasteful or wasteful. We are not unique, because only Humanity is truly unique.”
“That almost sounds like a catechism.” Anova said with a light, twittering laugh. Her face was uncomfortable, however, and not one True Born at the table looked comfortable with his words.
“I guess you could look at it that way.” Garret said with a shrug. “I’ve never thought of it that way, just as a series of observations. Clones do not have to dream of a deity out there or wonder why we exist. We know who created us, and for the most part we know why we exist.”
“To serve Humanity.” Marko Blashame said with a look of surprised understanding on his face.
“Exactly correct, Gospedene Blashame.” Garret said, and for a brief moment, he gave the older man a bow of his head as might be expected from a clone to a True Born. His head was back up in a flash and he looked down the table at Mierson. “Humanity has always had to dream of its purpose in the universe, but clones do not have that need. We know our purpose from the time we are gestated to the time we die. We serve the needs of our Creator, of Humanity itself by performing the tasks Humanity cannot or will not do for themselves.”
“An interesting theory.” Mierson said with a snort. “How then do you explain what you are doing? You were created to serve in the place of human military officers, and yet here you are with your own corporation, commanding a starliner, competing against and even ordering your human crew members around. Surely that’s not the place of a clone.”
“I was designed for a purpose, but now that the need for which I was designed is gone, that does not mean the need of Humanity for my services is gone.” Garret said with a shrug. “This corporation I have formed serves a need for Humanity and for the Republic. We need good shipping and transport services. House Lars has adopted me, and House Lars needs good businesses to increase its coffers. The True Borns under my command need good jobs in order to support themselves and their families. I am meeting those needs and serving them as I was designed to do.”
“I see.” Mierson said with a gruff nod, and silence descended on the table as people thought about what Garret had said while they ate some more. Garret waited until he’d finished his plate and was sipping on his coffee before dropping the last part of his argument on them.
“Clones can be designed for a specific purpose, but they are not always limited to that purpose.” Garret said softly, catching nearly everyone at the table by surprise. “Our Creators have given us one of the greatest gifts possessed by all humans, the ability to adapt. Certainly for some clones it is more difficult than others, but we can adopt to new purposes as they come along.”
“Like the military clones now preparing new colony worlds?” Anova asked with a gleam in her eyes and a slight smile on her lips. Garret could tell she had taken his words to heart, and he knew that she could use her program to sway a lot of minds.
“Exactly.” Garret said with a smile. His words were an open declaration of war with the ideals of Tremere, he knew. Part of him was sad that his words had possibly condemned Deci to whatever revenge Tremere might cook up, but he’d reached a decision on this journey, and knew this was more important than continuing the subterfuge to protect Deci.
Deci would understand.
Six days of listening to the discussions of these men, and women, had convinced Garret that his mother, Marja, had been mostly right all along about clones and their role in the Republic. She’d pushed for more recognition of the rights of clones, for ending the process of revaluation that happened when a valued clone went back to a G&E for further training. That usually happened when a valued clone wasn’t able to find work in his old career, usually because companies didn’t like hiring valued clones.
Nearly eighty percent of valued clones re-entered a G&E for re-training and as a result lost their valued status, albeit for a much briefer time. That was something Garret hadn’t learned until two nights ago and it had been weighing on him a lot. Last night he’d had trouble going to sleep because of it, and it had only been spending time with Gary that had enabled him to relax enough for sleep.
“Ladies, gentlemen, thank you for an invigorating breakfast.” Garret said after a long moment of silence had greeted his last words. He put his napkin on his plate and stood from the table, giving a generic polite nod before turning and leaving the dining room.
The stars twinkled above him through the clear dome that was the top level of his ship. Through the park-like design of this lounge, he could see the clean outlines of her silver hull as they arched downward, and he enjoyed the sensations of pride he felt in his ship, her clean lines, and her…
“Security to Captain Lars.” The voice came through his receiver implants, was inaudible to anyone around him, and he kept his voice low as he moved towards the center of the deck area where he could enter one of the staff lifts.
“Go ahead, Mr. Gunder.” He said as soon as he was in the lift. The ship’s AI computer had started it towards one of the passenger decks as soon as he was inside, but was letting his security chief inform him of what the problem was.
“Sir, could you please come to passenger cabin thirty-eight alpha?” Gunder said softly but with a very worried tone. “We have a small incident developing down here.”
“I’m on my way.” Garret said, checking to make sure that was where the computer was taking him. There was a lift access point just fifty feet from that cabin and he was there within seconds, striding down the passageway of the “C” class berthing compartments. There were a number of clones, mostly 06 and 10 models clustered around the specific cabin, and as he cleared his throat, they parted to provide a clear path. He almost let out a groan when he saw two of his 09 series infantry clones that had been designated as Ship’s Security cowering behind Gunder, the human Chief of Security, who was himself facing off with two of Gene Corps’ technicians. Gunder was a retired military sergeant who had wanted to travel in space during his retirement and had lacked the funds for paying his own way.
“What’s occurring here, Mr. Gunder?” Garret asked the scarred veteran of over twenty planetary drop missions. Gunder was tall, like most True Borns, standing over six feet high and while his hair had long since turned gray, he was still in excellent physical shape. His craggy face had probably kept him from finding a True Born wife, but gave him an aura of hardness that scared most people who had thoughts of disturbing the peace around him.
“Stay out of this. Clear this hallway now!” One of the two Gene Corp techs said with barely a glance at Garret. The two clone security guards started to move instinctively at the order, but a hand signal from Gunder kept them in their place. The rest of the clones in the hallway didn’t stay, but rather scattered immediately, clearing out as expected of clones having been given an order from a True Born.
“One of the cabin maids entered this cabin twenty minutes ago as part of their daily cleaning routine.” Gunder began to explain after the hallway had cleared, his gaze flitting to Garret for a moment before returning to focus on the two Gene Corps techs who Garret now noticed where holding stun rods in their hands. Gunder was unarmed, and while his two security guards held stun rods of their own, Garret knew better than to trust that they would actually strike a Gene Corp tech with them. While he’d shown no visible hesitation, Garret had wanted to respond to the order to clear the passageway. It was ingrained in every clone from gestation that they had to obey Gene Corps technicians without hesitation.
“This is no business of yours, clone.” The heretofore-silent Gene Corps tech turned to Garret with a glare now. “Take your other two clones and leave.”
“Stay.” Garret ordered the two security clones since both had already moved to leave.
“You will obey.” The first tech said as he turned to face Garret coldly. “This is no business of yours.”
“Be silent.” Garret ordered them through clenched teeth as a raging fury swept through him, wiping away the vestiges of control they had started to establish in him. “Mr. Gunder, you were explaining what has happened here, continue.”
“Sir, the maids found two of our passengers strapped to their racks when they entered.” Gunder began explaining while the two techs shared a confused look with each other. That look turned to anger very quickly though.
“This is none of your concern, clone.” The first tech said as they moved to stand between Garret and Gunder. Both of them were over six feet tall, although the first speaker was an inch or two taller and had midnight black hair while the other had light brown hair. Now that they were facing him fully, he could see their nametags. The one who had just spoken was Lieler while the other was Klondur. At least those were their last names.
“I am the captain of this vessel, and the well-being of all her passengers are my concern, according to the law.” Garret said as calmly as he could keep his voice. He looked up into their furious eyes and resisted the urge to smirk. He’d heard about, but never met a pair off Gene Corps Techs like these. They had adopted an opinion that they were superior to clones, and were probably vicious in exerting what they felt was their ‘just control’ over clones. “Mr. Gunder, let me guess the rest of what the maids found. There were two clones strapped to their bunks and severely beaten in there.”
“Yes sir, hard enough that there are puddles of blood at their feet.” Gunder replied. “Before we could cut them down, these two showed up and ordered us out of the room.”
“What the bloody fuck is the gods-be-damned medical emergency?” A very welcome voice bellowed from behind Garret.
“There’s no emergency here.” Klondur said as the sound of booted feet echoed up the passageway.
“Doctor Milius, please go inside the cabin and see to the two men in there.” Garret ordered.
“They aren’t men, they’re clones.” Lieler snorted. “They are in transit to their purchaser and under our care. It is illegal for anyone to provide them medical care without our permission.”
“Not necessarily true.” Garret said with a shake of his head. “Doctor, your patients need your help. Provide it.”
“Yes, Captain.” The gruff voice of the doctor stated as he brushed by the group at the cabin’s entrance. Lieler started to raise his stun rod, but lowered it at a glare from Klondur. Doc Milius was an older man, another former military officer who had fallen on rough times after retirement. He had invested half of his retirement money in an individual retirement account and invested the account heavily in a defense contractor. After the end of the war, a week before his retirement, the company had gone bankrupt and the good doctor had found himself with only his regular pension check, based on half of his retirement savings. It wasn’t enough to live on for long, not comfortably at least, and he’d looked for a decent job that didn’t require long hours like the planetside hospitals or a private practice. He’d interviewed with Garret and proven to be a capable doctor while the workload was light enough for him that he still was able to enjoy a great deal of downtime.
He was also the most overweight person on the crew, garnering ironic smiles every time he complained certain crewmembers didn’t get enough exercise.
“You will pay for this, clone.” Klondur said to Garret as sounds of disgust came from inside the cabin.
“You will refer to me as ‘Captain’ or ‘sir’.” Garret said in stern voice. “You disrespect BGL Transport and Shipping when you do not, and you also disrespect House Lars. Fail to render due politeness from this point on will result in a complaint from House Lars to your supervisor.”
“See, this is the problem with clones.” Klondur said in an aside to Lieler. “You let them think they are as good as a real human and they start sassing you. What do you think?”
“I say he needs a good fifty lashes.” Lieler responded with a furious leer.
“Mr. Gunder, place these men under arrest.” Garret said furiously, noting how their eyes went a little wide.
“Just who the hell do you think you are?” Lieler said as he raised his stun rod aggressively.
“I am Garret Lars, commander of this vessel.” Garret said coldly. “You are charged with assault on two of our passengers, attempting to intimidate crewmembers and threatening the commander of a vessel in space. You will be detained until our arrival at a government facility with a registered Republic magistrate.”
“Knock him out.” Klondur told Lieler while he spun to face Gunder. “This clone is out of control. Gene Corps is taking him into custody for reeducation.”
“I think not.” Gunder said as Lieler raised his baton to strike Garret. Garret didn’t hesitate, although a little voice shrieking in his head yelled that this was wrong. His hand whipped out, grabbing Lieler’s wrist and twisting it sharply. The man’s bones broke and the baton spun out of his grasp while he went to his knees with a grunt. Klondur spun around but found Gunder on him in a flash, putting him in a chokehold that reduced him to unconsciousness in a few seconds.
“Thank you, Mr. Gunder.” Garret said with a shaky breath as he looked at the unconscious tech and Lieler who was on his knees cradling his hand and glaring silently at Garret.
“Not a problem, Captain.” Gunder said with a nod and a grin.
“What’s going on here?” A familiar voice thundered. It should be familiar since Garret had just had breakfast with the man. Garret took a calming breath and turned to face the senior officer of the Gene Corps group on his ship.
“Officer Mierson, it is good that you’re here.” Garret began to say but was cut off by Lieler.
“Sir, this clone attacked us!” Lieler nearly wailed but was cut off in his own turn by Gunder’s firm grasp on his shoulder.
“You attacked two of my men, Captain?” Mierson was more polite, and Garret let himself relax a bit. This man was not like the two behind him.
“I defended myself from two of your men, sir.” Garret said firmly. For some reason he couldn’t really understand, the memory of the discussion over breakfast suddenly swam before his eyes. It had started with a comment about how children aren’t really allowed to be children. The discussion had veered off to other topics, but now Garret had a feeling that he understood that concept better.
Here he was, not even out of his teenage years and he was in command of a ship. In the old days, before strip-learning implants, someone his age would still be in school. The implants had changed that, and while there were many people who never were expected to function as an adult, including many clones, until they were his age or more, Garret had always been expected to act as an adult since the age of twelve. That had more to do with being raised in a Great House than the implants, but the combination of the two meant he’d been functioning as an adult for nearly seven years. It was a strange dichotomy, because while there had been plenty of times that Billy and he had played around, having fun just like any other kid their age, once they entered the Academy it had all ended and they’d learned to function as miniature adults.
“What cause would you have to defend yourself from them?” Mierson demanded angrily while Garret dealt with the things he was thinking and the moment of self-doubt receded. His shoulders squared away of their own accord, and his head which had started to hang, righted itself so that he looked up steadily into Mierson’s brown eyes.
“I’m taking these two to sickbay.” Dr. Milius said, interrupting the conversation Garret was having with Mierson. Garret turned to see him followed by several crewmembers pushing two hover stretchers occupied by two 10 model clones. Both of them were on their stomachs, and the angry welts on their backs glistened. “I’m going to have to suture up these welts. They’ve lost some blood as well, but I’ll get them put back together. More than likely, though, they’re going to scar.”
“Take care of our passengers, doctor.” Garret said with a nod and noticed the flinching look on the injured tech’s face. He was still cradling his wrist. “Gunder, take this one down to sickbay and have the doc look at his wrist when he’s done caring for these two.”
“I’ll be damned if I wait for…” Lieler started to fume but shut his mouth when Mierson spoke.
“You did this to these two?” Mierson demanded with a strong hint of anger in his tone. Lieler paled as he nodded.
“Why?” Mierson demanded.
“They were on the entertainment deck past curfew last night.” Lieler explained through gritted teeth as the doctor led the stretchers down the passageway. “They didn’t move fast enough getting back to their quarters after we found them.”
“That does not justify how they looked just now.” Mierson’s voice was cold as iron.
“They gave us some lip…” Lieler said softly with a glare for me. “All the clones on this trip are getting uppity ever since they found out this ship is commanded by one of them. We had to make an example of them for the others.”
“In less than six hours they were to be turned over on Lemos.” Mierson’s voice was tight with suppressed rage. “You couldn’t keep your anger under control for that long?”
“This one shouldn’t be allowed to do what he’s doing!” Lieler nearly roared with a nod of his head at me. “He’s stepped over the line now, assaulted a real human being and I’ll have him up on charges and sent to a G&E for reeducation!”
“You will do nothing of the kind.” Garret said coldly, turning back to look at Mierson. “You know the laws as well as I do, Officer Mierson. The commanding officer of a ship is responsible for the safety and well being of all of his passengers. No distinction is made between clone and True Born. These two caused grievous injury on two of my passengers. I’m not going to argue they had no right to discipline those under their charge, but these wounds went beyond discipline. You saw their backs, they’ll be lucky to escape without scars, and when you try to deliver them with scars, well at least they’re going to a mining station, not to a pleasure house or you’d have to replace them.”
“They’re bound for the Lemos Governor’s household as pleasure and personal assistants.” Lieler muttered through gritted teach.
“Captain, would you please have your man take Lieler down so that your doctor can see him when he has the time?” Mierson said without even looking at the tech who was now hanging his head. Instead, Mierson looked at the still unconscious Klondur. “Is he still alive?”
“Just unconscious.” Gunder assured the Gene Corps officer. He turned to the two clone security officers who still stood where he’d left them, their faces giving off a lost look. “You boys, pick him up and bring him along.”
“Get them to sickbay and make sure they’re given appropriate medical attention.” Garret ordered with a nod to Gunder who was now helping Lieler to his feet. “Post guards, though. They are not to leave Sickbay without direct authorization from me.”
“Yes, Captain.” Gunder said as he led the Gene Corps tech away, followed by the two clone crewmembers carrying Klondur between them. Garret turned to Mierson as the men disappeared down the hallway.
“Let me guess, some crewmember of yours found the punished clones, and called security.” Mierson said with a stern glare at Garret. “Your Security Chief called you, and when you got here those two ordered you to ignore the situation.”
“Close, they ordered me to leave.” Garret acknowledged while showing no visible reaction. The succinct summation of what happened was unnerving. Sure, he’d left the G&E facility when he was very young, but he never remembered any tech beating a clone so severely. Mierson should be outraged.
“You went to live with House Lars when you were still young, so you never experienced the greater punishments for disobeying a human.” Mierson stated flatly. “If you had stayed, you would have known to leave at once.”
“I could not.” Garret asserted. “No matter what else they are, those two were passengers on my ship and were severely abused. As the captain of this ship, I am required by law to investigate. Even if what they did was legal, impeding my investigation was not, even if I am a clone.”
“Were it that simple.” Mierson said half under his breath and Garret felt surprise course through him.
“Explain.” Garret ordered, and realized from the widening of Mierson’s eyes that it might have been a mistake to order instead of ask.
“Did Timat go so against custom and law that he actually told you of his crime?” Mierson asked in astonishment. Garret sensed a hidden truth here, something about his adoptive father and cocked an eyebrow at Mierson instead of responding verbally. When the man said nothing further, Garret considered his options and chose the one of least risk.
“I don’t know… anything about what you’re referring to.” Garret admitted softly and Mierson looked up and down the passageway. It was still clear.
“Your… father has been arrested and will be facing a tribunal for his illegal actions.” Mierson said softly, taking a step forward and leaning forward slightly so Garret could hear the words that he was speaking just above a whisper. “Oh, his arrest was done in secret, his tribunal will be secret, and the verdict is pretty much a foregone conclusion. He violated the laws regarding cloning, and will lose his license to work in either human or animal cloning or bioengineering. Timat will not serve any time in prison, it would be publicly disastrous.”
“For what?” Garret asked with a sinking feeling.
“Tell me, do you know who designed the MX series?” Mierson asked.
“No.” Garret answered, but he was no dummy. “You mean father worked in human cloning and bioengineering?”
“He resigned from human cloning when he married Marja Lars, taking over her animal cloning and bioengineering company.” Mierson whispered with a conspiratorial gleam in his eye. “He stayed on to complete his last project though, the 10-11MX model series of clones for use in military officer positions. Each of the units in the 10-11MX series were designed a little different, with slightly different qualities that could be evaluated during their training and from them we would choose the best final qualities to be engineered into the final design. He left the program after the fetus that grew into you was put into a gestation chamber. We took a blood sample from you, last year while you were in one of House Tremere’s pleasure house. Do you remember that?”
“Yes, it was part of the annual health inspection.” Garret remembered the day clearly. He’d had his most violent customer the night before and wasn’t feeling too well after playing submissive to an overweight, aging, bald pathetic excuse for a human being.
“Do you have any idea what we found when we did an in-depth genetic analysis?” Mierson asked with a tilt of his head.
“The same thing you found in every other analysis?” Garret retorted to the stupid question.
“No, we didn’t find the same things.” Mierson stated blandly, but his smile told Garret he was relishing the shock appearing on his face. “Who took every other sample, even while you were at the Academy?”
“My father.” Garret said breathily.
“Yes, Timat n’ee Atrix n’ee Johnson Lars.” Mierson whispered and obviously gloated as Garret’s head whipped upwards and his eyes widened in shock. “You never knew his name before his marriage into House Lars did you? He was from a very minor house, House Johnson which was a cadet branch of the old Great House Atrix.”
“I came from the Garret Atrix facility.” Garret’s voice was soft, and his eyes were turned inward as he put the pieces of the puzzle together. “House Atrix led the way with the bioengineering and cloning of humans for the century before the Great War started. They designed fetuses that would grow into some of the strongest, most beautiful humans possible. They could engineer almost anything into a fetus, make them strong as three men and yet look like any other human except with perfect skin, perfect bones, and perfect features. It was Laura Atrix who developed the coding sequences to include limited behavioral controls into fetuses. She figured out how to almost exclusively make a fetus into a homosexual, a bisexual, a transsexual, or any other type of sexual behavior. It was said she even developed a perfect asexual clone that didn’t lose any of the advantages provided by sexual hormones.”
“Her husband?” Mierson asked with a pleased smile on his face.
“Bronson Atrix developed the gestation chambers in use today that allow the full development of a clone on a mass-production scale.” Garret answered. He knew more about the early days of cloning than any other clone. Now he understood why. “Their discoveries made mass-production possible for the war effort, and it made it possible to better design loyalty into clones. Before that, early models and their series were hit and miss. The Atrix family made it an exact science, and the ability to mass-produce four clones to a gestation chamber instead of one quadrupled the number of clones that could be produced at any given facility.”
“What about their son?” Mierson asked with that pleased smile stuck on his face.
“They named the Garret Atrix facility where I was gestated after him.” Garret said with a slight frown on his face. “They even based the 10 model after him. They said he was one of the most beautiful boys ever born, and his death at age twelve nearly broke Laura’s heart. She designed the 10 model for the government, disregarding their physical requirements and gave them the exact look of her son, except for his eyes of course.”
“The first clone from that batch had green eyes, like the original template.” Mierson told him with a frosty tone. “She tried to raise him in secret, but was found out and her license was revoked. The government let her keep the boy though, and when he died in an accident at the age of eight, she killed herself the next day.”
“I never knew that.” Garret said with a frown. “I was told she died of a broken heart.”
“In a way that was true.” Mierson said. “Why do you think Timat is being tried now?”
“I’m the only MX series with green eyes.” Garret said softly while his brain tried to both reject and exalt in what it was thinking. “He must have made me closer to the original than…”
“You are ninety-nine percent the same as the original Garret Atrix.” Mierson said frostily with a look of suppressed rage on his face. The rage was not directed at Garret though. “You were grown in an old Mk 6 vat, alone, not with three other clones sharing the same ‘womb’. You have no womb brothers like other clones. The only adjustments made to you were those needed for you to survive in a combat zone. You have increased stamina and strength, if you work out enough, you also have higher resistance to chemicals, slightly better hearing and vision, and a few other minor improvements.”
“But I’m homosexual.” Garret said softly.
“So was the original Garret Atrix.” Mierson said with a little scorn in his voice. “You also realize something else, don’t you?”
“I’m not sterile?” Garret asked with a hint of fear in his voice. Mierson’s curt nod told him something else as well. “You don’t like me because I’m something that hasn’t been made since the first clone of Garret Atrix. It was outlawed nearly a century ago.”
“The cloning of a human to replace a deceased human was outlawed for good reasons.” Mierson said with a tone of warning. “Unfortunately, when they outlawed the act of cloning for that purpose, they failed to amend the rest of the laws.”
“Human replacement clones are not considered clones by law.” Garret quoted from a very old book Timat had made him study before going to the Academy. “They are, upon reaching their legal majority, considered full human beings equivalent to the original human they are replacing.”
“Yes, and they cannot be contracted, or treated as a clone.” Mierson finished with a sneer. “Timat is pleading guilty because he’s laid proof before the tribunal that you were created, and are close enough in specification, as a replacement for Garret Atrix. He even used DNA from the original for your creation.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Garret asked with a worried tone as something inside of him sung loudly.
“Because I want you to understand that if word of this ever got out, your father will end up in prison.” Mierson stated, and after a moment of thought Garret nodded. There was more to it, of course. House Atrix had collapsed upon itself after the death of Laura Atrix and Bronson, there were no straight-line heirs. He knew Timat’s parents were dead and he had no siblings. That meant that since Timat had married into a bigger house, he could not put a claim on House Atrix. However, if Garret was a true ‘replacement’ of the original Garret Atrix, and it was publicly proven he could claim House Atrix and all of its property, even if the state had taken over such property in a conservator status. By law, the government could not sell off or get rid of any property until a century had passed.
Of course by doing it, Timat would have to be sent to jail for violating the laws against replacement cloning.
“I… I thank you for telling me this.” Garret said with a brief nod of his head. He also knew another reason for his being told. If he was a ‘replacement’ instead of an experimental model of military clone (or both a little voice told him in the back of his head), that meant he was for all intents and purposes not really a clone, but closer akin to a True Born. That opened up a whole realm of possibilities he’d never considered.
“The two techs will be disciplined, and not allowed near any other clone on this ship.” Mierson stated, returning to the business at hand. “They will find other transport back to Peladon as well. I trust that will suit you?”
“Fine.” Garret acknowledged with a nod. Meirson looked at him sternly for another moment before turning and walking off. Garret took a deep breath, exhaled a long sigh and waited a few minutes before heading off as well. His first stop was sickbay where the doctor was now tending to the injured techs. A few words with Gunder saw him off to the bridge where he sat in the command chair and just listened to the preparations for the next jump.
By the time Marna led in Blashame and Anova, who he had invited to watch their final jump of this leg of the journey, he was recovered from the shocking news he’d learned. He greeted the two of them cordially and they chatted softly as the final preparations were made. When everything was done, he ended the conversation with his two guests and gave the order to jump.
This jump was like any other, and he relaxed as his sensors returned to normal. Lemos was in the sky before them, a few million kilometers away and he breathed a sigh of relief. Two hours of approach, another hour for docking, and he’d be rid of these troubling passengers. He opened his mouth to give the order for beginning acceleration towards the planet, but never gave it as the lights turned blue and the computer’s voice rang over the announcing system.
“Alert stations, alert stations, all hands man your combat alert stations. Passengers are to remain strapped into their acceleration couches. Crewmembers man your combat stations and prepare for ship-to-ship combat.”
Garret’s mouth hung open as the tactical holographic display appeared in the air before the helm console. The viewports on the other side of the holo were now shuttered by armor plating, and the blue overhead lighting made the holo appear crystal clear. There, not more than a thousand kilometers from them hung a Federation Cruiser-Carrier. Four fighters were streaking for the Adamant and the other three ships of BGL Shipping and Transport. The only problem, and probably why the ship had sounded the alert was that none of the fighters or the cruiser-carrier bore Federation markings. Instead they had a blue circle that showed a hand in white grasping a double-helix DNA strand.
A mental scream grabbed Garret’s attention to the ship’s computer as all the consoles began to flicker before going dead. The computer whispered ‘virus!’ into his mind before going silent, and Garret shut his mouth with a grim realization. His ship was about to be under attack, and the AI computer that operated pretty much everything had just been shut down by some sort of virus.
Things couldn’t get much worse than this…As with all my stories, E provides immeasurable input, grammar checking, and all those other lovely editing thingies that make the story so much better!
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