The Recarn Chronicles- Omnibus Edition

by Greg Krojac

  Michelle didn’t see any point in telling Caitlin that she had acted alone and without One Life’s knowledge. She had received a severe reprimand from her seniors but it was decided that to suspend her from duty would have been counter-productive. Michelle was their best field operative by far and was a motivator of others. For the resistance to take her out of the frame would have been cutting off its nose to spite its face. It was decided that her mission would be retrospectively approved.

  “So what do you want to do?”

  “I want to become a field operative like you. Well, not exactly like you. After all, you’re One Life’s golden girl. But I want to do my bit.”

  “Are you sure you’re up to it? I mean it’s only been four days since you’ve been back.”

  “I’m feeling much fitter now. Much healthier. You know me, if I’m sitting down doing nothing, left to my own devices, I’ll probably find trouble or trouble will find me. At least if I’m training, I can focus on the future and not the past.”

  “The training is very intense.”

  “Bring it on.”

  Michelle could see that Caitlin was in much better physical condition than when she was being held captive, but she still wasn’t convinced that she was up to it mentally. She’d been through a trauma that nobody should ever suffer.

  “You realise that it’ll mean obeying orders, something that hasn’t been your strongpoint in the past. You’ll have to exhibit self-control and restraint when necessary. Sometimes you’ll have to follow orders, even though your natural instincts are shouting at you to do the opposite.”

  “I understand all that.”

  In reality, Caitlin was motivated partly by a need to be doing something useful for the cause, but also by the idea of vengeance. She would never forget what had happened to her in HMP666 and she had a burning desire to make someone, preferably Marcus, pay for what she had undergone. Any way that she could cause Marcus problems, any manner in which she could be a thorn in the Illuminati’s side was good for her.

  Michelle promised to see what she could do, even though she was a little apprehensive about what Caitlin was about to undertake, but perhaps the ordeal had released previously unknown reserves of emotional strength that nobody had considered that Caitlin could possess. There was only one way to find out, and Michelle would do her best to be there to help out if it all proved too much for her sister.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  06:27 Saturday 2 November 2069

  Ethan hadn’t been taking it easy since his reincarnation into the clone of Philip Armstrong. On the contrary, he had hardly stopped planning his next move. Tommy had been installed as his second in command – it was the least he could do really – as he had shown both loyalty and an aptitude for organisation and getting things done. Orders were placed with various companies for the components required to construct more soul transference equipment. More clone-care bases were set up in the various outbuildings to look after the clones until they reached their twenty-fifth day of growth and additional supplies of human growth hormone (Somatotropin or HGH) and its inhibiting counterpart (Somatostatin or GHIH) were in the process of being shipped post haste to augment the forty doses of each that the group already had. The children had previously needed to be a little careful about finances, so as not to leave themselves in a difficult situation, but with the return of Ethan had come a large influx of available cash. Ethan had dozens of secret bank accounts around the world and cost was certainly not going to prevent him from growing a clone army; the only thing that could stop Ethan now was Marcus. And, although Marcus would have suspected that Ethan’s soul had been given its liberty, he had no way of knowing if that were the case and he most certainly would have had no idea that Ethan too was occupying a clone body.

  The first batch of ten clones chosen to be created included those of Tommy, Philip, and Jenny. Philip had the advantage of knowing what his clone would look like – Ethan being a living, breathing example of Philip when fifteen years older – and Tommy and Jenny were very curious as to how they would look. It would be like going to sleep a child and waking up as an adult.

  Ethan’s initial thought was to create two hundred clones of Philip, the fittest of the children, but then he considered the risks. If, for example, there was a congenital problem with Philip that would show up in later life, then that problem could be duplicated during the cloning process and Ethan would lose the hard core of his loyal followers early, their souls potentially being spread to the four winds. Just as Mother Nature decreed, diversity was the better course of action, minimising the possibility of congenital disease. It wouldn’t hurt to have one more clone of Philip though. Also, just like Tommy and Jenny, the rest of the children were anxious to know what they would look like when grown up.

  Philip sat up on the makeshift operating table that had been set up in an adjoining barn, looking straight ahead. He felt a little conspicuous, sitting there dressed only in his underpants, but being the biggest of the boys he couldn’t show any of the nervousness that he was actually feeling, even though he had already gone through the procedure when providing the stem cells for Ethan’s clone. It actually seemed worse because he knew what to expect. It was the needle that worried him. He fought the urge to flinch as the needle punctured the ligaments of his spine, causing a slight clicking sensation. It didn’t help much that the doctor giving the epidural and who would subsequently be harvesting the stem cells from his pelvic bone was a ten year old tomboy, with dimpled cheeks and bunches in her hair. He was worrying unnecessarily though as the tomboy, Susan Rigby, had been one of the top surgeons at the research centre. She may have had smaller hands and needed a stepladder to reach high shelves but she still had all the skill, knowledge, and technique that she had possessed in her previous life. And she hadn’t made a mess of things four weeks ago, so he was worrying needlessly.

  Jenny held Philip’s hand, partly to reassure him and partly as a sign of affection. She had liked him since the first day that they had met and, after seeing what Ethan looked like now, she was even more convinced that he was the man for her. She hoped that she would grow up to be beautiful and that Philip would like what he saw when she took over her clone’s body.

  Once the anaesthetic had taken hold, Susan made several small punctures over Philip’s pelvic bone, before inserting a special needle into the bone marrow to remove the required stem cells. Once removed, the bone marrow containing the stem cells was whisked away to another area of the barn which had been set aside and equipped as a cultivation laboratory. The extracted cells would be treated with HGH and moved to the maturing area until they were twenty- five days old, having created an adult replica of their donor. On that twenty-fifth day, the new clone would be given the correct dose of HGIH and have their donor’s soul transferred into them.

  Philip and his fellow donors would need a good night’s rest in order to recuperate from the effects of both the anaesthetic and the medical procedure and Susan expected them to be well enough to resume duties within forty-eight hours. Jenny had bribed the girl in charge of the recovery unit with a big bar of chocolate to give her the bed next to Philip. When he woke up, the first thing he would see was her face.

  Nine more children, including Jenny and Tommy, underwent the procedure that day. Ethan’s intention was to initiate the cloning process for ten clones per day. He had calculated that on the 27th of November the first ten clones would be ready and he could transfer the first ten souls, including Tommy and Jenny. Each subsequent day would see an increase by ten in the number of adult clones and a reduction by ten in the number of children. The 16th of December would see the last of the children’s souls transferred to their clone counterparts. He would be ready to execute his plan.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  06:40 Saturday 2 November 2069

  Thanks to an impassioned plea from her sister to the senior ranks of the resistance, Caitlin was driven to the nearest One Life training camp early on a Saturday morning. Far ou
t in the countryside the SUV, invisible thanks to the VACS technology that had also hidden Michelle’s motorcycle, turned into what appeared to be thick woodland. Caitlin flinched and closed her eyes as the vehicle drove straight at a clump of trees, accelerating and making no attempt to deviate from its course. The expected impact never came, her now open eyes instead trying to make sense of what they saw; a busy training camp, with vehicles and personnel going about their daily routines. If Maurice had been with them he would have taken it all in his stride, having seen this technology in action on the Businessman’s island, but Caitlin just sat in the vehicle with her jaw hanging open. The vehicle’s driver looked at his passenger.

  “Impressive, eh?”

  Caitlin collected her thoughts.

  “You could say that, yes.”

  As it was still early, the driver checked Caitlin in at the registration desk and showed her where she would be billeted. Then the two of them went over to the breakfast hall.

  “This is where you’ll be eating for the next ten days.”

  “Only ten days?”

  “It’s a very intensive ten days. You’ll go to sleep late, you’ll get up early, you’ll pretty much only stop to eat, shit, and piss. And sleep if you’re lucky.”

  Caitlin was already wondering what on earth she had let herself in for. Then she remembered what she had gone through at the prison and remembered her vow to never allow anything like that happen to her again. Anyway, Michelle had been through the same training and she didn’t appear to have suffered too much.

  The quantity at breakfast was more than Caitlin would normally expect to consume but she forced herself to eat everything, reasoning that she would probably need plenty of energy and staying power to last out the following ten days.

  ***

  At eight o’clock sharp, Caitlin was standing in a line with eleven other recruits; five women and six men. She wondered if they were as green as she was. Although she had got herself into a couple of difficult situations previously in her life, she hadn’t come across a situation that she couldn’t talk herself out of. Until meeting Marcus, that is. Marcus had had an agenda from the very beginning. He felt all-powerful and, being Pindar, he didn’t need to cede control of any situation to anyone, least of all Caitlin. He had seduced her with his charm, and she had become a willing lover, but once she was no longer under his spell he didn’t need to pretend that she was a real partner in the relationship and he could do whatever he wanted with her. And he did.

  The recruits were all dressed in matching white jumpsuits. They were told that this was so that any blood spilt would show up, so that they should become used to the sight of blood, be it their own or their opponent’s, and that it shouldn’t be a distraction.

  They were taught punches, kicks, strangle-holds, evasive manoeuvres. They were taught to feign injury to put their adversary off guard. They were taught to use objects at hand as weapons or shields. Male recruits fought female recruits so that the women wouldn’t fear facing a probably physically stronger opponent and the men wouldn’t show leniency towards women, thinking erroneously that women are the weaker sex.

  Training continued unabated for the next six days; six days of gruelling combat training, plus survival, evasion, resistance and escape techniques.

  ***

  At 03:00 on the seventh day, they were woken up by loudspeakers blasting out heavy metal music at an almost painful rate of decibels, instead of the normal, sedate alarm call at 05:30. An instructor stood in the doorway of the billet hall, silhouetted as a bright light shone behind him, illuminating the room. The recruits blinked their eyes, partly at the early hour and partly because the light was dazzling them. The instructor barked his orders.

  “You will get up and get dressed in a new set of white fatigues. You will take breakfast immediately. You will not shower. I repeat. You will not shower. You will not clean your teeth. At 03:30 you will assemble outside the dining hall and will be taken to another building on the far side of the base. Now get dressed.”

  The recruits looked anxiously at each other. What were they going to be doing at this early hour? One thing they were all certain of - it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

  The group entered a dull concrete building. Inside were a number of rooms, all with identical doors, distinguishable from one another only by the unique identifying number attached to the wall alongside.

  Caitlin silently counted the number of rooms. It matched the number of recruits; this must mean that they would be separated. Her suspicions were proven correct as she was ushered inside one of the rooms and the door was closed behind her. A trace of fear flitted into her memory as she remembered the ordeal that she had been put through at HMP666. She gritted her teeth and silently told herself to use that memory positively, to use it as a source of mental strength to overcome whatever she was about to undergo.

  The room contained no furniture whatsoever. It was basically a white box with no windows; even the door blended in perfectly with the walls so there was no visual relief for the eyes. The room was a sea of white.

  Michelle was watching via a concealed camouflaged camera. She was concerned that perhaps this training – especially this part – was too soon for her sister. She could only imagine what was going through Caitlin’s mind, what would go through her mind during the next three days. If she wasn’t on hand to support her during the forthcoming nightmare, she would never be able to forgive herself. She had gone through this training herself so she knew how tough it was. Her main hope was that it would at least give Caitlin a focus and help her to not dwell on events of the recent past.

  Caitlin sat down on the cold white floor, her mind drifting as she wondered what the day held in store for her. A loud klaxon brought her swiftly back to the real world. A disembodied voice spoke.

  “Recruit. You will remain here for three days. You will not know the time, you will simply be aware that time is passing. There will be no such thing as day or night. There will be nothing to look at except these blank white walls. If you fall asleep you will be awoken by the klaxon you just heard. The room is soundproof. There is no point in calling out for help. At the end of the three days you will be asked to perform a few simple tasks, things that under normal circumstances you would have no problem performing. You must not give your name and date of birth when asked. You will speak to no person. You will be alone. If you wish to abandon your training, now is the time to do so. You have one hundred and twenty seconds to make your decision.”

  After the two minute deadline, all the recruits were still in their respective cells; nobody had accepted the offer to leave.

  The instructor, Diego, sat back in his comfortable chair and turned on the TV which displayed a high definition image of the interior of the cell, complete with its occupant. Remote sensors were capturing the vital physical signs so there was no real risk to the inmates, but they didn’t know that. As far as they were aware they were totally on their own.

  After two hours of pure silence and no external stimulation, Caitlin was fed up of her own company. She wished that she had somebody to talk to. But all there was, was silence. After eight more hours, she was desperate for someone to talk to.

  After ten hours she took off her trainers and placed them on the other side of the room, about six feet apart. She made sure that the opening where normally she would put her feet was pulled open as wide as possible. She then took off her socks and rolled up each one into a ball, as tight as possible. She sat down again and attempted to throw a sock into an unfastened shoe.

  Diego was impressed. This was an excellent coping strategy. Where there is no external stimulus, the subject should use anything that is available to break the monotony. After a couple of hours of sock-and-shoe basketball, she would be a markswoman.”

  Another hour passed and Caitlin had certainly improved her aim.

  Michelle had gone home but had left strict instructions to call her immediately if Caitlin needed her.

  Caitlin was
now attaining an 85% success rate in throwing the socks into the shoes. Diego decided to put a stop to the target practice. This exercise wasn’t designed to make the subjects feel good about themselves. He pressed a button and camouflaged vents introduced a gas into the cell, rendering Caitlin unconscious for a few minutes.

  Caitlin woke up to find that her shoes and socks were no longer in the cell. She didn’t feel like she had fallen unconscious but, after deliberation, that was the only feasible explanation. She muttered to herself.

  “You bastards”

  She wondered what the time was. She knew that she had gone into the cell at around a quarter to four in the morning, but had no idea how long she had been on her own like this. It must have been about twenty hours. It certainly felt like it. Maybe she should try to get some sleep. She moved into a corner of the room, reasoning that the apex would give her a sense of snugness, and curled up to sleep. At first, sleep was slow to arrive but once she had managed to empty her mind she drifted off. Diego watched as the timer on his desk counted down from five minutes to zero. When the five minutes were up he sounded the klaxon again. He didn’t want to remove all hope of sleep from her, he just wanted it to be of poor quality and for insufficient time.

  Caitlin woke with a start. Had she managed to catch some sleep? She honestly didn’t know. If she had, how long had she slept for? She had no idea. Diego pressed another switch and cold air was pumped into the cell. Caitlin tucked her hands into her sleeves in an attempt to protect her extremities from the now icy breeze. She drew her head and neck as close as possible into the neckline of the jump suit, but her feet were still open to the elements. She wished that she had kept her shoes and socks on.

  She changed her position and folded her legs beneath her, allowing some protection from the cold. The material of her clothing and the proximity of her thighs protected her feet from the worst of the low temperature but the soles of her feet were still uncovered. However, this position was better than nothing.