"You have to stop them!" Hawthorne cries, taking a step toward him.
"There is no stopping human evolution. Or de-evolution, as the case may be." His tone and expression are perfectly calm—in stark contrast to the Chancellor's. "But there are ways to work around it. This facility is our way to preserve the present while the future unfolds. It is here that the Twenty, along with every advancement we have ever made in science, technology, medicine—everything that has made Eurasia great—will be kept safe from the dangers threatening the Ten Domes."
"I have to go back…put my house in order..." Hawthorne murmurs, looking confused all of a sudden. "Where am I, Solomon? How did I get here?"
He smiles at her as one might an aging parent. "You should return to your quarters, Chancellor. Get some rest. This has been a trying experience for you, I imagine."
She stares blankly at him and shuffles past us, out into the hallway. She knows her way, disappearing out of sight around the corner.
"Not exactly herself, is she?" I note. Don't tell me you've cloned her, too.
He gives me a knowing look and extends a hand toward his duplicates. They return to their duties as if they were never interrupted.
"Unlike humans, clones can be modified as they grow and mature. They can be programmed, for lack of a better term. Of course they are not machines. They are biological organisms as close to human beings as anything could be. But there are no disgusting addictions, no bizarre physical abilities, no reproductive issues. They are easily replaceable! And if, for some reason, these anomalies rear their ugly heads, we decapitate them." He mimes cutting with his fingers. "We edit the clone's DNA and neural synapses, and it proceeds with its life none the wiser. It continues being the best version of itself that it can be."
I glance around the lab, then at the identical rooms lining the hallway. So many Wong clones. "You're planning to replace everyone in Eurasia?"
The good doctor laughs. "You haven't been listening, Sera. Eurasia is a lost cause. This facility, this Ark, is the future. When Eurasia, that wonderful city of glass, eventually shatters—and it will, as every human empire in the history of the world can attest—then we will rise from the earth to begin again."
"You and your clones."
"And you! Like every other advancement we've made over the years—the aerocar, the field harvester, the waste reclamator, the oxygen generator—you are to be held in safekeeping. The Twenty are prime specimens of vigor and fertility. You never should have been allowed to walk among the masses. It was never safe for you there!"
Granted, the man is a genius. But, apparently, he's also a sinister madman. "So instead, you want to imprison us here against our will?"
"Come." He steps out into the hallway, holding the door open for me. "I'll show you."
I pause, weighing my options for just a moment. Then I follow. Because there are no other options, not if I want to know what the hell is going on here.
"Why did you clone Chancellor Hawthorne?"
"I needed her clearance codes," he says simply. "I created her security force, but only she had access to their command framework. And it was a delightful challenge." He eyes me sidelong. "How soon did you realize she wasn't the real Persephone Hawthorne?"
I shrug. "She seemed a little off from the get-go."
He clenches his jaw, staring straight ahead as we make our way to a polished plasteel elevator. Leading the way inside, he punches the button for level ten at the very bottom of the subterranean tower. Good thing I'm not claustrophobic.
The door slides shut, trapping us inside. For a few floors, neither of us say anything. What happened to that loquacious mad scientist from a minute ago? Now he's brooding with his arms folded, lost in his own headspace.
"Did you light the fuse?" I break the silence.
His eyes dart toward me as if he forgot I was there for a moment. Then he smiles. "You're much more than a mere curfew enforcer. If permitted to continue serving in Dome 1, I'm sure you would have been promoted to investigator."
I shake my head. "My commander never would have allowed it. Or the Chancellor. They had their own ideas on how to keep the Twenty safe. But back to you." His favorite topic, from what I've gathered. "Why today?"
"How much world history are you familiar with?"
I tap my temple. "More since I've been offline."
He nods. "We will need to get that fixed at some point. But for now, I would like you to think back to the early twentieth century, a time period of extreme nationalism. What spark set the world powers of that time on the path to bloodshed—the likes of which this planet had never seen before?"
I struggle in vain to remember. That was so long ago, and so irrelevant to what's going on right now. Unless…
"A single violent act," I guess. "But the stage had already been set."
"Precisely. As in Eurasia today. For years, discontent has flourished among workers in the outlying domes. They could not keep themselves from envying the lives of Dome 1 citizens. Chancellor Hawthorne and the Governors were perfectly content to ignore the lessons of the past by insisting that the past no longer mattered. 'Only now, moving forward'. Never bothering to look back. And in so doing, they ignored the warning signs."
You mean the resurgence of the patriots.
He nods. "Hawthorne and the Governors have paved the way for D-Day to occur all over again. For a new generation of terrorists to strike—but this time, at the very heart of Eurasia. Over the past twenty-four hours, government buildings across the Domes have been targeted with electromagnetic bursts. Terror has struck the populace, and they can't help being afraid of what will happen next."
"Law enforcement has everything under control."
He raises an eyebrow. "Perhaps for now. But there is no shortage of malcontents who have already claimed responsibility for the attacks, even though they had nothing to do with them. The ball is rolling, Enforcer Chen, and it will only gain momentum going forward. Downhill, of course."
"The idea of Eurasia imploding pleases you."
The elevator door opens onto the bottom floor, and he steps out into a dimly lit warehouse so expansive I can't see an end to the rows upon rows of shelving units. He leads the way down the center aisle with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture rigid.
"The idea of what comes after pleases me. The revelation, the unveiling. The true meaning of apocalypse, from the Greek." He shows me a well-organized lineup of cold storage units. In each one, embryos float in metallic canisters labeled bear, wolf, eagle, and dolphin among hundreds of other species.
"You have...animals?" I can't believe what I'm seeing here: every extinct creature that was wiped from the face of the earth. Many of them the most popular avatars in VR.
"We do."
"Why haven't you allowed them to live?"
"In Eurasia?" He shakes his head. "There was concern that we would not have enough resources. Food, water, air. Humankind has always been our priority. But in the future, once the Domes fall, we will terraform this planet. Then the animals will run wild across the land, soar through the sky, and swim the ocean depths again. It will be our Promised Land!"
I nod slowly. "That's what the Seventeen are seeing in VR." No wonder they were so blissed-out.
"They see what will be."
"Why wait? If you have the ability to change the world back to what it was—"
His laughter and upraised hand halt me right there.
"It will take decades, perhaps centuries, to develop the technology and equipment necessary to restore the earth to its former glory. But I have every confidence that we will." He leans toward me. "All two thousand of my clones, each endowed with an IQ very close to my own, are currently working on this project. We will find a solution. And when that day arrives, you will be there to see it!"
He points out another row of cryo-storage units, much larger but empty. Each one is labeled, but instead of animal species, they are the names of each member of the Twenty—along with an ext
ra unit for the good doctor himself.
"We will sleep in perfect peace as the years pass like seconds, while the diligent clones are hard at work. Our minds will be actively stimulated by the Promised Land VR program to avoid neural atrophy. And when the time comes, I will awaken first to ensure the completion of the terraforming process, and then you will be awakened to sire the first generation on a far better earth!"
What were you saying earlier about learning from history?
He frowns. "What are you referring to?"
"Government scientists hand-picked my biological parents to be the breeders of a new world, once the nuclear winters ended. They were expected to rise up from their bunkers at the All-Clear signal and start making babies to repopulate North America." I pause. "How did those plans turn out?"
He holds both of his open hands toward me. "We have you, and nineteen others like you, to show for it."
"A rip-roaring success, in other words."
He puts on his grandfatherly expression—the same one I saw on the wall screen, welcoming me into that weird white room. "Sera, you have to understand, this is the future of the world we're talking about. Every step in the right direction is progress."
I back away from him and move toward the elevator. "No, you have to understand, Doctor. I don't want anything to do with it. I have a life, and it's a good one. You don't get to decide what's best for us. You've already taken our DNA without our permission and spawned countless children. Now you've kidnapped us and plan to freeze us for a few centuries against our will. This is wrong on so many levels."
"Once we fix your augments, you will be on board. Trust me."
"Not happening."
The elevator door slides open as it senses my approach. One of Dr. Wong's clones stands inside, but it's not wearing a lab coat. It has on blood-spattered plasteel armor instead. The clone raises its gloved hand to point the muzzle of a weapon—
"What is the meaning of this?" Dr. Wong demands, right before the pulse from a shocker hits his chest dead center, and he's bowled over by the impact. He hits the white tile floor and slides a couple meters, shaking with uncontrollable spasms and groaning as he soils himself. Then he lies still, unconscious.
"D1-436?" I stare at the clone.
It nods. "Enforcer Chen, it appears I may have made an error in judgment."
"Explain." I join it inside the elevator and punch the button for the seventh floor. The door slides shut, and we hurtle upward.
"In seeking to take you to safety, I inadvertently placed you in further harm. To be put in cryo-sleep against your will…" D1-436 trails off, shaking its head. "I cannot think of a worse possible fate."
I eye the clone for a moment. "And you knew about that because…?"
"I attached an audio-transmitting filament to your hair while you were attempting to shoot me with this." It raises the shocker. "If you remember, while I was piloting the aerocar, you—"
"I remember." Can't hide the grin spreading across my face. "Thanks. I owe you one."
It nods pleasantly, lowering the weapon. "Judging from the floor you selected, would it be safe to assume you intend to rescue the other members of the Twenty instead of returning to the launch pad and leaving this facility at once?"
"Safe to assume." The elevator, as fast as before, arrives at our destination, and the door opens automatically. "You need a name."
"My designation is—"
"Something other than a string of alphanumerics. You're able to think for yourself. You deserve your own name." D1-436…D-one… "What do you think of Dunn?"
"That is not my designation."
"We'll work on it." I lead the way out of the elevator, just as a blaring klaxon sounds and an automated voice announces that Futuro Tower is rising. A low rumble reverberates along the floor, walls, and ceiling.
"That must be Erik and Arienna," I tell Dunn. The clones in the laboratories don't pay us any attention as we make our way to that corridor the Chancellor's duplicate used earlier to enter the white room. "Dr. Wong's collection is now complete."
Entering the room through the sliding wall-door, I clap my hands together to get everyone's attention. Of course, they're back in their lounge chairs, staring off into the virtual Promised Land. Blinking and frowning curiously, they return to reality as I clap again and gesture for them to follow me outside.
"Field trip," I improvise. "Dr. Wong wants us all to be there to welcome our final two arrivals!"
That gets their attention, and they leap to their feet in excitement, murmuring among themselves that they've never been out of the room before. They give Dunn wary looks, but the clone stands at ease with the shocker behind its back and what might be taken for a casual expression on its face. I lead the Seventeen out into the hallway toward the elevator and do my best to keep them on task; but they're easily distracted, staring at all the Wong clones in the various laboratories.
The clones turn and stare back at them. Then, without a change in expression, the clones sweep aside their lab coats and draw sidearms, charging from the labs to confront the escaping Seventeen.
"Dunn!" I shout.
"That is not my designation." Dunn follows the last members of the Seventeen down the hallway and fires the shocker, releasing a barrage of glowing pulse rounds that bring the Wong clones to a halt. They hesitate behind their glass doors as the energy blasts strike and disperse, fizzling with sparks of light.
"Why do they all look like Dr. Wong?" Lyria asks, right behind me.
The others murmur among themselves:
"Why are they carrying weapons?"
"Do they wish us harm?"
"Everybody inside." I stand just outside the elevator as they file in. "Squeeze tight."
Dunn walks backward toward us, firing the shocker at untimed intervals. One of the Wong clones makes the mistake of rushing out of a lab with its weapon raised and receives a blast to the face. It hits the floor in convulsions before lying still. Dunn picks up its weapon and hands it to me. Feels good to be packing again.
"Once we reach the hangar, I'll need you to sync up with Wink and Blink," I tell Dunn as we wedge ourselves into the elevator, squishing my siblings and Erik's against each other. They don't look happy about it, but they'll live.
"Your drones," Dunn clarifies.
"That's right. I want them to spread out and provide you with real-time surveillance."
"They have been weaponized."
I blink. "What?"
The elevator reaches the hangar at the top of the tower, but the door refuses to open. DECONTAMINATION IN PROCESS reads the display.
"When your friend Drasko returned them, they had been modified. He may be responsible." Dunn pauses. ''Your exo-suit is also in the cargo area. It too has been weaponized—and reformatted to work with your unaugmented biologic."
A curfew enforcer is never assigned weaponized drones. They're for overwatch purposes only. And as for the suit…that's unheard of.
If Drasko upgraded them, then maybe it wasn't an act of betrayal when he shot me in the back. He could have done it for my protection, knowing what that gangster low-life Trezon was capable of. And maybe he didn't shoot Dunn in the head with the intention of destroying it, as he did with the clone in the passenger seat. Drasko somehow must have known Dunn would try to rescue me.
The display clears, and the elevator door slides open, revealing the hangar's dim, blue-lit interior and a pair of aerocars sitting side by side on the launch pad. The doors on the recent arrival float upward, and two figures hop out of the cockpit.
I grip the Wong clone's weapon down at my side. Dunn stands next to me, shocker at the ready. The Seventeen cautiously follow us outside with silent stares.
"Sera—is that you?" Erik bounds over to us. His face is covered in bruises and cuts, but he seems all right otherwise.
I hate to admit it, but relief washes over me at the sight of him.
Until I see the woman beside him. Not Arienna. A middle-aged stranger—yet her eyes
look identical to my own…
"I'd like you to meet Daiyna," Erik says with a grin. "You two have a lot of catching up to do."
25 Daiyna
22 Years After All-Clear
No word from Luther. No word from Drasko. If it wasn't for Victoria's extra-sensory abilities to reach out and verify that each of them is still alive, I'd be worried.
More than I am already.
But there's no way for her to tell us where they are. Even when she holds hands with her son Boaz and her adopted daughter Florence, both well into their teens now. They've exhibited their own gifts since they were young—Boaz with his far-sight and Florence with her supernatural hearing. Victoria has been unable to use her special talent of piggybacking onto their abilities to locate Drasko's position.
"Their heart rates are elevated," Victoria says, her eyes shut, frowning as she focuses.
I grip the communication device I received from Captain Mutegi and look out the open warehouse door, hoping to see Luther return at this very moment. That everyone else will be with him. That he was successful in locating our long-lost children.
There's no point in deluding myself that I'll ever be a mother. Rehana was right, all those years ago. We were never meant to be breeders, despite what Mother Lairen told us. Leave that to the cows. But even so, I want to see these twenty-year-old men and women who share my DNA and Luther's. Will they have my eyes? His nose?
According to Samson and Shechara, who recently arrived at our rendezvous point—a warehouse filled with dust crates from North America—their biological son Erik has telepathic and physical abilities. Do all of the Twenty exhibit gifts from the spirits? Or is it only because Tucker took him across the Wastelands in an incubation pod, along with my biological daughter? A young woman named Sera, who works in law enforcement. Maybe the pods' seals weren't tight enough, and some dust got into their breathing fluid...
Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3) Page 114
