Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3)

by Milo James Fowler

  "The violation occurred in Dome 1, did it not?"

  "The streets were unsafe. One of the Chancellor's security clones was kind enough to allow me to board its aerocar with the violator in tow." I pause. So far, so good. She seems to believe me. Probably because I'm telling the truth. "But he leapt from the car while we were in flight, and he took off running down the maglev tunnel to Dome 2. I pursued and apprehended him."

  Bishop's eyes glaze over. She's receiving supplemental data, probably provided by the drones encircling us. "Why have you interrupted the important work of citizen Arienna Dogan? Why was the discharge of an electromagnetic pulse detected by local surveillance drones?"

  Not as easy to explain. I can't think of a single good reason.

  So I stick with the truth, come what may.

  "She's my sister." I hesitate to proceed, but nobody else is saying anything, so I go on, "My biological sister. After a cursory DNA search, I found that I have nine siblings, and we're all the same age. We're also members of the Twenty. All ten of us. As well as the curfew violator—" I gesture toward him on the ground, and Bishop glances his way with an unreadable frown. "According to him, he also has nine siblings who share his DNA."

  Bishop nods to herself, pensive. "You told me before that this was about your parents. This violator mentioned something about them—not any siblings."

  "The situation has evolved, ma'am." Has she known all along that the Twenty are two sets of children? Has she known about our monthly sex cell extractions?

  "Not a good time to be playing investigator." She looks exhausted all of a sudden.

  "Have you located the Chancellor? Is she all right?"

  Bishop nods. "I am with her now. She's safe. We are in a secure location—"

  "Did she authorize Emergency Stipulation 5.6, Subsection 2?" I interrupt, cringing. Such bad form, but I have to know.

  The hologram blurs as Commander Bishop turns to speak inaudibly to someone on her side of things. When she faces me again, her expression is guarded. "Do not interfere with Enforcer Chen's assignment," she orders the drones buzzing around us. "You are to support her efforts as needed. Her orders come directly from the Chancellor."

  I glance at the security clone for any hint of surprise. Of course not. That face shield hides everything underneath. But I can't help feeling stunned, and I struggle to keep my face as stoic as possible.

  If Chancellor Hawthorne didn't send those two clones to my door, then who did? Who in the government would want the Twenty sequestered? Perhaps it wasn't even a Governor who gave the security units their orders. Erik already showed me how easy it was for him to override Unit D1-436's programming. Could the terrorists have gotten control of a select number of clones and sent them after the Twenty? Difficult to imagine, let alone prove.

  No clones have come after Arienna here in Dome 2—unless they're on their way...

  "Carry on, Enforcer Chen," Commander Bishop says before signing off. "And be quick about it. You don't have much time."

  The hologram dissolves into the air.

  "How may we be of service, Enforcer Chen?" The drones have changed their tune, if not their monotone.

  "Escort us to the maglev station." I turn to Arienna. "Can you get someone to cover your shift?"

  She blinks at me, confused. "Yes, of course. But why?"

  You're coming with us, I think at her.

  She stumbles back a step and holds up a hand as if to ward me off. "Did you just—?"

  Telepathy. Weird, right? I give her a wink.

  She nods. "Very."

  "This way, Enforcer Chen." The drones sideline themselves, expecting us to walk between them as we exit the forest.

  I offer Erik my hand as he comes to, and he groggily lets me help him to his feet. Cursing under his breath, he flicks the shocker dart off his chest and empties his pockets. Half a dozen discs identical to the ones he used on the security clones rain onto the ground, followed by a pair of EMP grenades.

  "All fried," he mutters, his voice sluggish.

  "Are we returning to Dome 1?" Unit D1-436 steps toward us.

  I shake my head. "How many of us are in Dome 3?" I ask Erik.

  "Two," he says. "One of my siblings, one of yours. But without a way to knock out their augments, there's really no point in going."

  Did you hear Bishop? I think at him.

  The tail end of it, I think. He nods. She basically authorized you to do what we're already doing.

  Not sure what to make of that. She said we don't have much time. If someone other than the Chancellor is sending security units after the Twenty, we need to get to them first. We can worry later about telling them the truth.

  First we need to make sure they're safe.

  We start walking with the buzzing drones flanking us on both sides. Erik and I lead, with Arienna and Unit D1-436 following close behind.

  "We should split up, cover more ground," Erik suggests. "Arienna and I could—"

  "I'm going to need to see some proof," Arienna says. "I understand the Chancellor has endorsed your mission, but I still don't see how anyone could get away with what you're suggesting. And the idea that I'm going to display some sort of strange ability now that I'm offline…" She shakes her head. "How do I know anything you've said is true?"

  It's totally understandable. Not long ago, I was right where she is, questioning all of this insanity, unaccustomed to trusting my biologic. But now I'm ready to join Erik on his quest, visiting our siblings across the Ten Domes. Why? What's changed?

  Easy answer: my commanding officer not only validated what we're doing but told me to pick up the pace. Reading between the lines: the Twenty are in danger.

  I hand Erik's phone to Arienna. He doesn't look happy about it. "Here."

  "What is this for?" She looks perplexed by the antique device.

  "Before neural implants, this was how people used to communicate and access the Linkstream. Think of it as a miniature console. Go ahead, run a DNA search," I tell her over my shoulder. "Siblings tend to share fifty percent of the same DNA. When I ran mine, your face came up. Along with eight others."

  Erik takes a minute to show her how to use the touchscreen interface, then leaves her to it. She walks silently behind us, neck bent awkwardly over the small screen as she runs the search.

  "It remains unclear why this curfew violator is being allowed to discharge electromagnetic pulses and take citizens' augments offline." Like the drones, the clone's monotone hasn't changed, yet it somehow manages to sound irritated. "How is this in line with the Chancellor's orders?"

  I'm about ready to order it to zip its genetically manufactured lips. "Check your logic there, Unit D1-436. Erik's actions have served to keep us on-mission, as unorthodox as they may seem."

  He half-turns toward the clone. "If it's any consolation, I'm all out of EMPs. So until I find another supply, I'll have to rely on my wits and charm alone."

  I shudder to imagine that. The clone doesn't respond.

  "So...we are sisters," Arienna says at length. She's verified that much already. "And we're going to meet the others?"

  I nod. "That's right. A little pre-Revelation Banquet reunion," I borrow Erik's term for it. He smiles at me. I direct my gaze straight ahead.

  "Your commanding officer made it sound urgent," Arienna says, handing the device dismissively back to Erik. "Are we in danger?"

  Not sure how to answer that. "We'll be fine." I glance at Erik. We stay together, and we keep moving. One dome after another.

  We may not reach them all in time, he replies, mind to mind.

  We'll do the best we can. One step at a time.

  The edge of the forest looms before us, and beyond, two square blocks of Dome 2's urban upward-and-outward sprawl. In the distance, I spot the gate to the maglev tunnel. Should be interesting returning with an eight-drone escort, but maybe their presence will prevent the guards from asking too many questions.

  Except the guards are the least of our concerns as a go
vernment aerocar swoops out of the tunnel and soars straight for us. The tree branches and leaves tremble as the car stops in mid-air to hover above. Then it slowly descends, preparing to land on the forest floor less than twenty meters away.

  Two security clones sit in the cockpit, their garish white armor shining and their black face shields fixed on us.

  "Friends of yours?" Erik glances at D1-436.

  "Did you call them?" I demand.

  "Yes," the clone replies, "if by friends you mean fellow personnel from the Chancellor's security force. But as far as calling them, no, I am afraid that would be impossible. My Link-based communication systems remain out of order."

  Thanks to Erik.

  "What's going on?" Arienna sounds afraid for the first time.

  "Trust us. Everything will be alright." For the moment, I keep my rifle down at my side, dangling from its shoulder strap. No reason to make an awkward situation worse.

  As the aerocar settles onto the artificial turf, the side doors drift upward, and both security clones step out with their weapons aimed upward. Just a split-second away from pointing those muzzles at us.

  "Enforcer Chen, your orders have changed," the clones say in unison. Sounds like they might've been eavesdropping on my conversation with Commander Bishop. "You, Erik Paine, and Arienna Dogan are to come with us immediately. We will explain the situation while en route to our destination."

  "Which is where, exactly?" I step forward, placing myself between them and my motley entourage.

  "We are not at liberty to say," the clones reply. "Rest assured, it is a secure location." They glance at the hovering drones. "Return to your duties. We have the situation in hand."

  The drones seem reluctant to comply. In the artificially intelligent pecking order, clones reside at the top, being biological organisms. Drones and other automatons are expected to listen and obey, particularly when such biological organisms represent the interests of the Chancellor herself.

  "Enforcer Chen is acting on direct orders from her superior officer, Commander Mara Bishop," the drones report, "who is currently with Chancellor Hawthorne." They close in on the two clones, who stand back to back and aim their weapons at the buzzing drones. "It is unclear where your orders originated."

  Without a word to one another, the clones open fire, obliterating the drones in midair, sending sparks and shattered parts flying in every direction.

  "Get down!" I yell, hoping Erik, Arienna, and D1-436 realize I'm yelling at them. Then I drop onto the ground and take aim at the two clones while the last of the drones disintegrate under heavy bursts of automatic fire.

  I've never taken a life before, clone or human. Not even a bot. Watching the drones smashed to pieces is the most violent thing I've ever seen firsthand. In VR, it's different. No matter how real it seems, there's a part of my brain that always knows it's only virtual. I can take a step back and not get emotionally involved.

  So that's what I do now.

  I need to disable and disarm these clones, but I also need to keep them from summoning more of their kind. Killing each of them with a headshot would be the logical solution, but I may not be ready for that, no matter how high I scored at the academy gun range. I have to act fast and efficiently, not giving myself the opportunity to freeze up and wonder in that split-second whether it's murder to kill a clone. I have to be willing to do what must be done.

  If my augments were functioning, I would simply act without this damned biologic getting in the way.

  Lying on my stomach with the stock of my rifle shouldered and the barrel steady, I curl my finger around the trigger and squeeze once, twice, three times for good measure. The automatic bursts hit the clones with a staccato-crunch of live rounds impacting plasteel armor, cutting them off at the knees and sending them toppling sideways.

  "Cease fire!" I shout at them, rising to train my muzzle on the nearest clone's forehead. "Lay down your weapons, or my next round is a kill shot."

  As a rule, clones don't have a death wish. They know they're expendable, but they aren't usually in any hurry to be replaced. These two hold their rifles out laterally, away from their bodies, and point them at the tree canopy above us. But they don't let go of the weapons.

  "Enforcer Chen," they tell me patiently, "you are suffering from a great deal of stress. No citizen should be without her augments as long as you have been. You must feel cut off from the world. We are here to help."

  "Who sent you?" I stand hunched over my rifle, ready to fire at the first provocation.

  "By order of the Supreme Chancellor—"

  "I'm following the Chancellor's orders." We can all pretend to be on-mission for Persephone Hawthorne. "My commander is with her right now."

  "Your commander terminated two of our units."

  That doesn't sound right. "When?" I demand.

  "Earlier this morning," the clones say in unison. "Following the terrorists' EMP blast, two security units were escorting the Chancellor and her aide onto the roof of Hawthorne Tower. Commander Mara Bishop arrived by aerocar and shot each clone in the head. The video is a matter of record, accessible via Linkstream with the proper clearance. Current conjecture is that Commander Bishop has gone rogue and that she kidnapped the Chancellor."

  "To what end?"

  "Unknown."

  None of this makes any sense. Why would Bishop do such a thing?

  "D1-436, disarm them," I order.

  Without a word, it walks toward the two clones on the ground, their knee armor blown to bullet-riddled scrap with blood oozing out. Neither one will be walking again anytime soon.

  "Don't try anything," I add.

  Oddly enough, D1-436 responds instead, its face shield turning my way mid-stride. "You can trust me, Enforcer Chen. I am here to protect you."

  "Good clone," Erik says, proud that his reprogramming has stuck.

  "Unit D1-436," the two clones speak up, "you have been damaged, and you are offline. Your mission has been compromised. Someone has overwritten your primary directive."

  "My primary directive is to protect Enforcer Chen." It snatches each clone's weapon and walks back toward me.

  Well done. "Give those to Erik and Arienna." I step aside as it approaches, keeping my rifle on the unarmed clones.

  "Have they had any weapons training?" D1-436 stops in front of me with an assault rifle in each hand. For now, the muzzles are pointed at the ground.

  "Of course," I lie, having no idea. But being offline like the rest of us, the clone has no way to verify my claim. So it hands the weapons over.

  "I've never…" Arienna trails off, keeping the rifle at arms' length.

  "Never seen such a well-maintained firearm!" Erik lets out a low whistle.

  "Neither Erik Paine nor Arienna Dogan has received any weapons training whatsoever," the two clones report. Because they still have full access to the Linkstream and can look up anything they please.

  "As far as you know." Erik shoulders the rifle with familiarity and sights along the barrel, squinting one eye as he aims at a distant tree. "Not everything is on record, my genetically identical friends."

  Right. Especially when it comes to terrorists.

  "Enforcer Chen lied to you, Unit D1-436." The two clones' face shields are directed at the unit beside me now. "She does not trust you."

  "Shut up, both of you." I half-turn toward D1-436. "Is there any way you could find out who sent them after us?"

  "Other than Chancellor Hawthorne?"

  I nod.

  "I would need to connect to one of their cranial jacks."

  Careful, Erik warns. If it bumps brains with these units, it could be swayed to their cause. Overwriting his overwriting, in other words.

  "You would trust me to do this?" D1-436 faces me as if it heard Erik's warning. But that would be impossible. Clones aren't telepathic.

  "Don't give me a reason not to."

  It strides forward, walking behind the two immobilized clones. They watch silently as it approaches. D1
-436 raises one hand, and the section of the white gauntlet covering its index finger seems to break in half, the finger curling while a spike-shaped data connector extends from the first knuckle. D1-436 takes the helmeted head of one clone in its other hand and forces the chin down, exposing the cranial jack at the base of the neck. Unceremoniously, the data spike slides home, and the clone stiffens. So does D1-436. Both of them are frozen in place, while the third clone looks on. Wondering if it will be next?

  "Our orders came directly from the Creator." D1-436 and the clone it's jacked into speak in unison.

  "The creator?" I echo. Not weird at all.

  "Who now?" Erik steps forward on my right.

  Doesn't sound like the Chancellor, I think at him.

  Agreed.

  "No longer will the Twenty be allowed to live in the world," D1-436 and the clone continue. "It has become an evil, dangerous place, and they are far too valuable. They must be protected at all costs. They will be gathered together in a safe zone where they will live out the rest of their lives in service to the greater good of all Eurasia."

  Arienna joins me on the left. "I'm not liking the sound of that."

  "Who is this creator?" I need a name. "Nobody outranks the Supreme Chancellor. You are members of her security detail. Your orders should come only from her."

  "You will meet the Creator once the Twenty have been gathered together. Until then, you must trust that the Chancellor's security personnel have your best interest at heart. We will escort you to a safe location—"

  "How many of the Twenty are currently in this so-called safe location?" I can't imagine anyplace safer than Dome 2. It's so quiet here, so green.

  "Ten at present."

  I nod to Erik. That's where we're going.

  "What?" he blurts out loud before checking himself. Are you out of your mind? We can't go there—wherever it is. We stick to the plan—

  There isn't time. They've already captured half of us, with potentially more en route. I pause a moment to strategize. We stop by one of your suppliers, pick up some more EMP grenades, then we fly in like any other aerocar full of precious cargo.

  He nods, not liking the idea but understanding where I'm going with it. Then we knock out everybody's augments at once.