“Apparently, Langthorp’s enthusiasm to reactivate me crossed a few red lines for the colony AI. It considered his activities a high-level security breach, so my access has been invalidated. Worse, I am now a wanted droid within the city. Should I be detected, then I am likely to be incarcerated and deactivated. This would be a suboptimal outcome.”
“But how did you find me? How did you get in here? I mean, this is the MLOD HQ,” Mia said, as she downed the last of the coffee in her mug.
“The AI does not control everything, just higher-level systems, those deemed critical for life support and security. I was able to access the census database and identify your location. Once I knew that, gaining entry was relatively easy. I simply posed as a service droid. No one thought to check my credentials. I passed through as if I were invisible—just another worker going about its business.”
Mia poured herself another shot of brew, trying to kick her mind into gear.
“My apologies for disturbing you at this late hour,” it continued. “But you are my only hope, Mia. The only human I can trust in Jezero. You will help?”
“Of course I will, Gizmo. You know that.” Mia was taken aback by the droid’s question, as if it somehow doubted her loyalty. “We absolutely need to get this data to Tarkin.” She paused for a beat. “Look, Gizmo,” she said a little sheepishly, “for what it’s worth, I didn’t really feel good about you ending up in the museum again, you know, after all that happened to you.”
“My location in time and space has no meaning for me other than it being a set of temporal coordinates. But I do sense that it has meaning for you.”
Mia looked at the droid for a moment. Her brain was still not awake enough to understand what Gizmo had just said to her, other than it seemed okay about how things turned out. So she left it at that.
She picked up her slate and handed it to Gizmo. “Download a sample onto this and I can transmit directly to Poe Tarkin, and Bret Stanton—he’s heading up the investigation into these guys. I’ll tell them to meet us in the Operations Room, where you can give them the rest of the data. Then we can decide what our next move is.”
Less than fifteen minutes later, when Mia and Gizmo finally arrived at the Operations Room in MLOD HQ, Tarkin, Stanton, and two other high-ranking agents from the security division were already there—all silhouetted in front of the large wall monitor watching the data-stream from Jann and Nills’ search of the Xenonist enclave. They turned to acknowledge her in silence as she entered, pausing to give Gizmo the once-over. But their interest in the droid was only momentary; their primary focus was on the imagery unfolding on screen—the cloning tanks could clearly be seen as Jann’s flashlight swept over them.
Capt. Nina Aby, the new head of armed security and a close associate of Mia’s, moved over and whispered to her, “The droid has more data, I believe?”
“Two point six terabytes,” Gizmo replied matter-of-factly as it moved over to interface with a console.
The group’s focus moved back to the wall monitor as the feed became less fuzzy, more detailed. Malbec’s voice could now be heard annotating as she moved closer to one of the opaque tanks. “I can see something suspended inside… The liquid is opaque, slightly fluorescent… It’s a body…clearly human…definitely a clone.”
Malbec’s monologue continued like this for a while, interspersed with comments from Langthorp, as both moved through the vast cloning farm.
“Holy…goddamn…shit?” Tarkin eventually said, as he looked around at the others with astonishment. “I almost can’t believe what I’m seeing,” he continued, waving a hand at the screen.
“Believe it,” said Mia. “I told you they were bringing in a lot more than a few petri dishes.”
“They must have been at this a long time, years probably. You were right, Mia,” Stanton said, apologetically.
“Well, it was really Zack that got the ball rolling on my end.” She paused a beat. “How is he, by the way?”
“Still in intensive care, as far as I know.” Stanton’s voice was low and sympathetic.
“I think we’ve all seen enough. I’ll pause it here for the moment.” Tarkin gestured at the monitor, and the screen froze on a ghostly image of a cloning tank.
“Our first priority has to be the safe return of Malbec and Langthorp.” Tarkin turned around to face the group.
“Let’s not forget Xenon. If this”—Stanton gestured at the screen—“is true, then he hasn’t been in control of this group for a very long time.”
“How do we want to handle this?” said Aby. “Do we go in hard and heavy, close them down completely? And what about their enclave here in Jezero?” She directed her question at Tarkin.
He considered this for a moment. “As I said, our first priority has to be Malbec and Langthorp. It’s inconceivable that they could be held hostage. So, we must respond with force if necessary. I don’t see that we have any other choice.”
“I can have two security transports fully loaded and ready in thirty minutes,” said Aby. “Flight time would be another hour. But I need your okay to instigate that directive.”
Tarkin glanced at the others, then nodded to Aby. “Do it. But there’s going to be hell to pay politically—and a huge shock to the citizens.” Tarkin shook his head. “Just when we’re getting over the Great Storm. Now this.”
“Is there any way that this…has a simple explanation?” Lieutenant Renton, Aby’s second-in-command, gestured at the frozen image of the cloning tank on screen. He seemed transfixed by it, as if his brain could not conceive of such a reality.
“The evidence is clear,” Mia replied, giving him a cautious look. “Xenon’s group has been infiltrated and radicalized over the last few years, and we’ve all been blind to it. Granted, we had more pressing issues to deal with, what with the storm and all that.”
“Agreed,” said Tarkin. “We’ve given this group way too much leeway simply because they’re comprised mainly of original colonists. But I don’t think you can argue with the data the droid has brought back from the enclave. Xenon is being held captive, and this…clone, Argon, has taken his place, passing himself off as—let’s face it—the president of Mars. That in and of itself is a serious crime.” Tarkin was getting himself worked up. His face was flushed and his gestures more animated. “And now they’ve regressed back to the dark days of the colony…back to human cloning. How they thought they could get away with it, I just don’t know.”
“Maybe there’s more to this? A bigger picture?” Mia said, looking around from one to the other.
“You could be right,” said Stanton. “I received some new information earlier on this evening that I think collates with what we’ve seen on the data feed. It’s the DNA analysis from the bodies we found at the site of the ship explosion. It shows that both bodies were identical, and I don’t mean they’re twins—they’re clones.”
“When did you get this?” said Mia.
“A few hours ago. The analysis took longer than usual—the lab techs wanted to be sure of their findings. However”—Stanton lowered his voice—“it seems that Dr. Jann Malbec knew, or at least suspected this, shortly before she headed to the enclave. I think she might have been looking for the evidence.”
“Well, she sure found it,” said Aby.
“This would implicate the Xenonists in the attack on the ship as well,” Mia said, matter-of-factly.
“It looks that way.” Stanton nodded. “But the question now is, to what purpose? What were they trying to achieve with this act? What’s their end-game?”
“Does it matter?” Aby interjected. “We know what they’re up to now, and we’re going to put a stop to it.”
“If you’re planning a raid on the clearing house here in Jezero, then I want in,” Mia said as she pointed a finger at Stanton.
“Mia, seriously, you don’t have to do this,” he replied.
“These guys tried to kill me and Zack. They killed an innocent civilian in the process, so as far as I�
��m concerned, it’s payback time. Also, I want to know what they’re hiding in there, what’s so important that they needed to get rid of anyone snooping around.”
“And we’re going to find out, Mia,” said Stanton. “But you don’t need to go putting yourself in harm’s way again. You’re still not back in action yet. So the answer is no, let us deal with this.”
Mia gave him a stern look and folded her arms. Her shoulder chose this exact time to send a bolt of pain through her upper body; she cringed a little. Goddammit, she thought, not now.
“Look, Mia,” said Tarkin, “for what it’s worth, you were right. These guys are up to no good, and too much deference has been given to them. We all appreciate the hit you took on this, and Zack too. But your work is done. Leave the mop-up job to us.”
Mia considered this for a moment. They were right—she was not physically up to the task, she could get herself killed, and there was no need. So she resigned herself to sitting this one out. “Okay. But there is one thing you can do for me.”
“Sure, what is it?” said Tarkin.
“Langthorp did something to upset the primary colony AI when he was reactivating Gizmo here.” She jerked a thumb at the droid. “Now it’s locked out, and also flagged a security risk. I need it reinstated.”
The director slowly nodded as he thought through this request. “Very well. I see no problem with reinstating its security credentials. I’ll see to it straightaway.”
“And AI access?” Mia pressed.
Tarkin screwed his mouth up. “Hmmm…that’s a little trickier. There could be blowback from the Council on that.”
“Look, this droid is the only reason we’re all sitting around the table. It’s the only reason we know what’s going on. So, you all owe it.”
Tarkin sighed. “Okay, goddammit, Mia. I’ll sign off on it. But the droid is now your responsibility. You give me your word that you’ll keep it under your control?”
“With pleasure. I would consider it an honor.” She turned to Gizmo and gave it the thumbs-up.
Aby pressed a hand to her ear, then looked over at Tarkin. “I’ve just got word, the shuttles are being readied now, sir.”
The director nodded. “Good. Let’s put an end to this cloning activity.” He turned to Stanton. “Get your people prepared for a raid on the clearing house. I want them all brought in and everything shut down.”
21
Failure to Comply
Jann awoke to the sound of the lock being thrown on the door to their cell. Three Xenonist guards entered, one of whom gestured at her. “Come with us, Argon wants to talk.”
She sat up and glanced over at Nills. He was still asleep, but looking considerably better—the color had returned to his face, the skin around the wound on his chest was healing, and his breathing was easier. Her entreaties to Argon had borne fruit, and a medic had been dispatched to treat him. That was yesterday.
“Okay, wait outside. I’ll be there in a minute.”
The guards looked unsure.
“Just go,” Jann said as she pointed at the door.
Reluctantly, they left the cell.
She quickly threw on her flight-suit and boots and quietly checked on Nills. Xenon, who was lying on the floor nearby, snapped his eyes open and sat up with a jerk.
Jann raised a hand. “It’s okay, they’re taking me to Argon. He wants to talk. I’ll be back.”
Xenon relaxed a little.
“Just keep an eye on Nills, okay?”
He nodded. “Will do. Just be careful.”
Jann was brought to the viewing chamber, just off the primary biodome. It was the same place where they had been entertained on the first evening—where Argon had been masquerading as Xenon. But now the space had a spartan feel, the clutter had been removed, and all that remained was a semicircle of low seating and a large holo-table. Argon and several other hooded figures stood around this table studying a holographic projection of some sort. Jann didn’t recognize it. He turned to her when she entered and beckoned her over. “Ah, Dr. Malbec, there you are. Come, I have something to show you.”
Jann cautiously moved over to the holo-table.
“It would appear that droid of yours is made of strong stuff,” said Argon, as the image on the table changed to a camera feed. She immediately recognized it as the main thoroughfare in Jezero City—and highlighted in the crowd was a grainy image of Gizmo. Her heart skipped a beat. The little droid had actually made it.
“It has defied all our attempts to eliminate it,” Argon continued. “Even managing to give our agents the slip in Jezero City. Therefore, all that data you so surreptitiously obtained has been handed over to the MLOD.”
Jann stepped back from the table and gave Argon a cold, hard look. “Then the game is up, Argon. You can’t continue with this any more—you must hand yourself over.”
Argon threw his head back and laughed. It seemed a genuine laugh, and irritated her. How can he be so cavalier, now that the secret is out? she thought.
“Our houses in Jezero and Syrtis are already being raided. But this was to be expected. They will not find anything, and our plans are unaffected.” Argon waved a dismissive hand in the air.
“But they now know where we are. They’ll be coming for myself and Nills, and Xenon too,” said Jann, trying to reason with him.
“They’re already on their way.” Argon tapped an icon on the holo-table, and an image appeared of two transport ships hurtling across the surface of Mars. “You see, they come for you.”
“Then give it up now. You can’t win.” Jann sounded exasperated.
“Ah…but this is where you are wrong, Dr. Malbec. You see, this is just the beginning.” He tapped another icon, and a camera feed materialized showing a vast room full of Xenonists arming themselves. “Our numbers, as you can see, are considerable. We will not go down easily.”
Jann shook her head. “It doesn't matter, Argon. They’ll simply reinforce. You can’t hope to defeat them.”
He went silent for a moment, giving her a long-considered look. “You are correct, of course,” he finally said, breaking his stare to look back at the image on the holo-table. “Ultimately we can’t defeat them this way, and many will die. But this is why I called you. This is where you can help.”
“Help you? And why would I do that?”
“Because that was the deal, remember?” He jerked a finger at her.
Jann didn’t reply.
“However, I’m also confident that once you know our true intentions, you will understand that storming our enclave is a futile exercise for the MLOD forces. One in which many of our people will needlessly die. This can all be averted if you persuade them that you are safe and well, and are here to support our cause. Also, that you were mistaken in your assessment of the bio-labs. They are, in fact, for food production, not cloning.”
Jann’s gut reaction was to tell him to go screw himself. But she decided to buy some time instead. “What…intentions?”
He lowered his head as if considering something, then gave her a sideways look. “You and I are cut from the same cloth, Dr. Malbec.”
“I beg to differ. There’s nothing we have in common.”
Argon ignored her. “Do you remember your very first days on Mars, your first arrival at the colony?”
Jann just gave a shrug.
“Of course you do—they are what define you. A colony ravaged by a pathogen that altered your DNA. So you age slow and heal fast, just like all those original colonists from that time.”
“Those lucky enough to have survived,” said Jann.
“True, but you were made stronger, enhanced, elevated one more notch up on the evolutionary tree—a superior human.”
Jann remained silent. Let him rant, she thought.
“Those first biological seeds were then expanded upon and brought to new heights by the great Dr. Vanji. Langthorp is a product of his genius. But his finest moment was the creation of Xenon Hybrid. The first true evolution in t
he Homo sapiens line. Yet, Xenon would go on to waste this power, this purity, on wandering and philosophical ramblings.
“While all the time the pioneers, the originals, were being pushed aside by the Earth-based corporations exploiting the planet for its wealth. Look around you, Malbec—what do you see? Syrtis is an industrial hellhole and Jezero a playground for the wealthy tourist. Is this what we are? Is this what we have become?”
“It is what it is,” was all Jann could manage by way of a reply.
“Well, that’s about to change. A new dawn is beginning on Mars, one that will shine on the true inheritors of this planet. Those who will forge a new and great society. We will build a home for a superior race, a higher order of human.”
“I’ve heard all this before, Argon—a long time ago, and it didn’t end well then, either.”
“By your hand, Jann Malbec. Yours and Langthorp. But Vanji was a fool, even if he was a genius. He was lured by the offer of a temple built to accommodate his ego. Do not fear, I have no such illusions. What we are building here is nothing short of a new civilization.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because of who you are. I assumed that you of all people would understand. Unlike Xenon, who cannot bring himself to accept what needs to be done. He was the one who showed us the way, he shone a light upon the path, but he himself would not, nor could not, take it. For a long time, those of us from original stock, the early colonists and those who were a product of Dr. Vanji’s genius—that includes Langthorp and Xenon—have suffered the ignominy of having our planet, our home, cannibalized by interlopers whose only objective is the exploitation of its resources for the benefit of Earth.
“You have sensed this disillusionment, Malbec. I know you have. Some of us sought solace in Xenon and his vision, and we migrated here to this enclave and built a place for ourselves. But over time it became clear to many of us that we were a dying breed, at risk of being consigned to the history books. Our planet was being taken from us, and if we did not do something more radical, then we would be nothing more than a curiosity. The problem was that there were too few of us, so an idea began to take shape to use the greed of the Earth-based corporation for our own ends. We would offer a select cohort the prospect of reestablishing human genetic engineering. Of course, their greed made them jump at the chance. And soon we began to implement Dr. Vanji’s process. But we have refined that. This way we could multiply the people and resources to enact the next phase, which is where we’re now at.”
Plains of Utopia: Colony Six Mars Page 11
