The Clone Redemption

by Steven L. Kent

  You used to smile, Takahashi thought. Back in the days before the aliens and the Mogats, you used to smile. Yamashiro Yoshi had been a politician back then, before he appointed himself admiral of the fleet.

  Having spent the last three years searching Bode’s Galaxy, the Japanese sailors had no way of knowing that the Avatari had returned to the Milky Way. The last outdated intelligence they heard was that the Unified Authority had won the battle for New Copenhagen, and the aliens had left the galaxy. They did not know that the Avatari had returned and incinerated New Copenhagen and Olympus Kri. They did not know that the Unified Authority had abandoned its military clones and that the clones declared a civil war.

  “Now that we have destroyed A-361-F, the next closest planet is A-361-D,” said Yamashiro.

  “What about A-361-E?” asked Yokoi.

  The name of the solar system was Bode Galaxy A-361. A-361-F, the planet Illych and his SEALs destroyed, was the outermost planet in the system. A-361-E was the next planet in terms of distance from the center of the solar system.

  “It’s on the opposite end of the solar system,” said Yamashiro.

  “Admiral, why bother with the outer planets at all? We should bypass the outer planets and attack the planets closest to the star,” said Takeda. “The aliens will be on the planet that is the same distance from this star as Earth is from the sun.”

  “That’s quite a gamble,” said Admiral Yamashiro. “Why should we take such a risk?”

  “When the aliens entered the Milky Way, they only attacked the planets we ourselves would inhabit.”

  Miyamoto leaned forward so he could face Takeda. The old warhorse and the officer with the background in engineering, they were opposites and adversaries at every meeting. Takeda was slender, dapper, a man in his fifties with an interest in science. Miyamoto, who trained in the traditional arts of Judo and Iaido, was squat and powerful. His uniform barely fit over his massive shoulders, chest, and neck.

  Miyamoto said, “The Avatari are miners, Takeda-san. They do not populate the planets, they conquer, they mine. Though a man would want to collect the content of a gold mine, he would not necessarily want to live in it.

  “If we proceed to an inner planet, and they have bases on A-361-E or A-361-D, we could find ourselves attacked from every side.”

  “All the more reason to split up the fleet,” said Takahashi. “If we send one ship to each planet, we can search the solar system in a single day.”

  Miyamoto clapped his hands, and said, “An excellent idea. We send one battleship to each of the remaining planets; and when one of them does not return, we will know where the aliens are hiding.”

  As the meeting ended, Yamashiro cornered Takeda Gunpei, the only one of the captains with a background in engineering. He fixed Takeda with a businesslike glare, and the two men sat silently as the other officers filed out of the room.

  “When that pod exploded, was it as powerful as a nuclear bomb?” asked Yamashiro. He claimed no understanding of science or engineering. His background was in politics.

  Before joining the Japanese Fleet, Takeda, who was nearly as old as the admiral, had worked as a professor of space travel and engineering. Now he slipped comfortably back into the role of the teacher. He smiled, and said, “It all depends on the size of the bomb. Judging by the damage, I would estimate that the explosion from the field-resonance engine was forty or fifty times more powerful than any nuclear explosion on record; but that is just a guess.”

  Though he tried to hide it, Yamashiro could not hide his shock. Both fear and anger showed in his normally unreadable expression. “We have five thousand of those vehicles aboard our ships.”

  Takeda smiled, and said, “There’s no reason to worry about the pods, sir. They pose no more threat to your ships than the torpedoes in the armory, maybe even less of a threat.”

  “Twelve of them destroyed an entire planet,” said Yamashiro.

  “The energy they produced destroyed the planet. The pods themselves are nothing more than a generator and a battery. When the battery is overcharged, it explodes. Without the charge, the battery is of little consequence.”

  “Perhaps we should store them in our transports,” Yamashiro said.

  Calm as ever, Takeda pointed out that the Fleet did not have enough transports to carry five thousand S.I.P.s.

  Yamashiro took in the information and nodded, all the while toying with the idea of dumping excess pods in space.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Location: Planet A-361-D

  Galactic Position: Solar System A-361

  Astronomic Location: Bode’s Galaxy

  Admiral Yamashiro did not often meet with SEALs. They were enlisted men. He was an officer. So many layers existed between them that he felt irritated that he now had to meet with Senior Chief Petty Officer Corey Oliver, the new leader of the SEALs. He considered the indignity of meeting with the SEAL a part of his penance.

  Ten years earlier, Yamashiro had been the governor of Ezer Kri, one of the 180 populated planets of the Unified Authority. In an effort to create cohesion in the republic, the founders of the Unified Authority had populated their planets with a mixture of races and ethnicities.

  The first governor of Ezer Kri, however, had been Japanese. While other administrators accepted the settlers they’d been given, Takuhiro Yatagei traded and switched personnel until he had a sizable minority of Japanese colonists. Since the days of Yatagei, all of the governors of Ezer Kri had been Japanese. They acted as the guardians of their culture.

  Shortly after Yamashiro became governor, the people voted to change the name of the planet from Ezer Kri to Shin Nippon—“New Japan”; but their timing was off. A civil war was brewing. Key members of the U.A. Congress saw the name change as a sign of insurrection. With the Unified Authority Navy imposing martial law on their planet, the Japanese fled Ezer Kri and joined the real insurrection.

  Yamashiro was nothing if not pragmatic. Seeing that his new allies would soon betray him, he stole four self-broadcasting battleships and returned to the Unified Authority. Had it not been for the return of the Japanese Fleet, the Morgan Atkins Believers would have won the war; but the Unified Authority did not easily forgive. The Linear Committee initially allowed Yamashiro and his people to settle in the islands of old Japan; then, after the U.A. military defeated the aliens on New Copenhagen, the Linear Committee sent the Japanese Fleet to locate and destroy the enemy.

  To assist with the assault, the U.A. Navy assigned its twelve thousand cloned SEALs on the mission. Speaking among themselves, Yamashiro and his captains referred to the clones as kage no yasha, shadow demons.

  Yamashiro picked up the recon photos on his desk. Before approaching planets, the Japanese sent out stealth transports that deployed spy satellites. The images from A-361-D showed a barren planet with a brutal atmosphere.

  There were no military installations on Planet A-361-D. In fact, there were no signs of any kind of development. The planet was a gas giant, its surface a bed of unrecognizable gases. Installations had been built, however, on the two moons orbiting A-361-D.

  One of the moons, designated “A-361-D/Satellite 1,” had a long flat deck that might have been a landing strip. It measured 12.315 miles long and 12.298 miles across. It crossed a slightly raised plain that appeared to be made out of the same white substance as the soil around it.

  A-361-D/Satellite 1 was a large moon, nearly three thousand miles across, and had a thin-but-discernible atmosphere. The second moon, A-361-D/Satellite 2, was eight hundred miles in diameter, considerably smaller than the moon orbiting Earth, with no atmosphere whatsoever.

  On this moon, the reconnaissance satellites found a ring of small buildings that looked like warehouses. They stood twenty feet tall with flat roofs and no windows. With no wind to beat against them and no elements to wear them down, the buildings were perfectly preserved. Without running more tests, Intelligence had no methods for predicting the ages of the buildings. As one of the specialist
s said, “For all we know, these buildings could have been built a billion years ago.”

  Abandoned, thought Yamashiro. Looking at the bleak surfaces of the moons, Yamashiro wondered how the SEALs dealt with fear as they prepared for missions. They knew the risks. They were ugly and vicious, but they were also intelligent. Yamashiro admired their courage.

  The satellites had scanned for footprints, tire tracks, and landing points, and found nothing. If it were possible for buildings to spontaneously generate, he would have believed that the buildings on Satellite 2 had done just that.

  Yamashiro sat behind his desk feeling slightly sick to his stomach. He disliked looking at the SEALs so much that it nauseated him. The ships’ captains, almost all of them younger men, made jokes about their appearance. That was fine for them, they were young and foolish.

  Yamashiro was a man in his sixties. He recognized the SEALs’ intelligence and their honor. They accepted dangerous assignments and never complained. They did not seek attention. From what Yamashiro had observed, the kage no yasha behaved in a manner more Japanese than any of his officers.

  Yamashiro pressed the button on the intercom that connected him to his assistant, and growled, “Arakawa, please send the senior chief in.”

  “Yes, sir,” she answered. He could hear the ease in her voice. Though the SEALs avoided contact with the women of the fleet, most of the women liked the clones.

  The door opened, and Anna Arakawa, Yamashiro’s assistant, showed the SEAL into the office. Yamashiro noticed the way Arakawa smiled at the SEAL, and he sneered.

  Addressing the SEAL in English, Yamashiro said, “I hope I did not keep you waiting too long,” as he stood and returned the SEAL’s salute. He knew precisely how long he had kept the SEAL waiting—seventeen minutes. His assistant had signaled when the SEAL arrived, and he’d looked at his clock.

  “No, sir,” said Senior Chief Oliver.

  They remained standing. Yamashiro knew that the SEAL would not sit down until given permission, and he enjoyed testing the clone’s tolerance. “Would you like coffee or tea?”

  “No, sir.”

  Yamashiro sat down. Though he would have enjoyed leaving the SEAL on his feet, Yamashiro did not like staring up to see him. He finally said, “Have a seat.”

  The only seat was ten feet from Yamashiro’s desk. Oliver did not move it closer to the desk. Without a word, he went to the chair and sat down.

  “The mission on A-361-F did not go as expected,” said Yamashiro.

  “Were there casualties, sir?”

  “There were no survivors,” said Yamashiro.

  Oliver took the news in silence, his expression unreadable. Yamashiro forced himself to meet the senior chief’s gaze. Kage no yasha, he thought to himself. A nose like a Chinese dragon. The eyes of a demon. The gray skin of a cadaver.

  “I will send you the video feed from the mission. Illych and his men performed honorably.

  “Since he has not returned, I am promoting you to master chief petty officer effective immediately.” Still sitting at his desk, Yamashiro said, “I have every confidence in your ability, Master Chief.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Oliver.

  I wonder if they talk among themselves? Yamashiro thought. He couldn’t remember ever hearing any SEAL utter more than ten words at a time.

  “I will also send you satellite photos of A-361-D.”

  “Are there aliens on that planet, sir?” asked Oliver.

  “No. Not on the planet. We have discovered structures on two of the moons. This mission should be similar to the mission on A-361-F,” Yamashiro said, wondering what emotions the SEAL kept hidden.

  The SEAL clone showed no reaction when he heard that they’d run an operation similar to the one in which his fellow SEALs had died. He sat still in his chair, his hands on his lap, his feet flat on the floor, his gaze not quite meeting Yamashiro’s. In Japanese culture, you never looked your superior in the eye. Yamashiro wondered how the SEAL clones had learned this.

  “We will reach the moons in twenty hours. Prepare a reconnaissance team for the operation.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I want to send one hundred men on this mission, fifty to each moon. Perhaps if we send a larger force, we will have better success against the enemy,” Yamashiro said, though he had his doubts. From the little of the battle he’d seen, Illych and his men never stood a chance.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Yamashiro looked at the newly minted master chief and felt dissatisfied with the way the interview had gone. He felt as if he had not given the man his full due. “You may be wondering why we are sending men to these installations instead of attacking them from space.”

  “No, sir,” said Oliver.

  “No?”

  “No, sir. I would not presume to question your orders.”

  Yamashiro believed this, but he still felt the need to explain. “As you will see from the video feed, Master Chief Illych destroyed A-361-F by detonating his stealth infiltration pods. We did not fire on that planet. Perhaps the master chief and his team would still be alive if we had.

  “Illych and his men launched from a cloaked transport, flying stealth infiltration pods. We do not know anything about the aliens’ technology; but there is little chance they could trace the landing team to our ships. If we fired on the planet instead of sending a team, the aliens would certainly be aware of our ships.

  “We have invaded an alien empire with four ships. We are badly outnumbered by an enemy with superior technology. If I must lose men to keep my ships hidden ... I am willing to make that sacrifice.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Oliver.

  Yamashiro nodded, and said, “Master Chief, as the highest-ranking member of the SEALs, you will oversee the operation from this ship.”

  There was neither hostility nor complaint in Oliver’s voice as he asked, “Sir, wouldn’t that qualify as a dereliction of duty? As the highest-ranking man on the team, I am supposed to . . .”

  “Master Chief, you will be violating a direct order if you assign yourself to this mission,” said Yamashiro.

  Oliver did not raise an eyebrow or cock his head. His lips did not twitch, and he did not look away from Yamashiro though his gaze still fell just below the admiral’s eyes.

  Yes, thought Yamashiro. He is very Japanese.

  “Sir, if you are concerned for my welfare . . .”

  Yamashiro scowled and raised a hand to stop the SEAL. These are the true Kamikaze, he thought. He has no fear of death. And then he lied. “I do not have time to worry about your welfare.

  “Sending your highest-ranking man into an action is inefficient. Commanding officers remain with the fleet and coordinate the movements. I was not aware that Illych accompanied the team to A-361-F. If I had been, I would not have allowed it.”

  “Sir . . .” Oliver began.

  Yamashiro shook his head to signal that he did not want to continue the discussion. “You have your orders.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A moment of silence passed, then Yamashiro asked, “Do you have any questions, Master Chief?”

  “Yes, sir. Did Illych accomplish anything on A-361-F?”

  Yes. Yes he showed us that detonating S.I.P.s can destroy an entire planet. We learned that the aliens can detect our movements even when we cannot detect them ourselves. We learned that the aliens can detect us and defeat us from halfway across the solar system in six minutes.

  Yamashiro kept these thoughts to himself, and said, “We’ll be in position by A-361-D in twenty hours, Master Chief. Have your men ready.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Oliver.

  Yamashiro looked away from the SEAL, and said, “That will be all.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  If Yamashiro did not want Oliver to show the video feed to all of his SEALs, he should have voiced his preference. The SEALs shared information unless given orders to conceal it. Oliver routed copies of the video feed to the senior chiefs on each of the four battleships;
and they, in turn, held mass briefings in which they showed the footage to their men.

  Master Chief Oliver sat in the back of a large auditorium with his two closest friends watching the video feed along with his men. No one in the auditorium spoke a word until the feed ended. When the lights came on, the SEALs divided themselves by platoon and discussed what they had seen. Oliver and his two friends, Senior Chief Jeff Harmer and Senior Chief Brad Warren, remained where they were.

  “What did you see?” asked Oliver.

  Down in the gallery, chief petty officers led similar discussions.

  “We can’t outgun them,” said Warren. “It doesn’t look like we can even touch them.”

  “Agreed,” said Oliver.

  “They only sent five defenders,” said Warren.

  “What’s your point?”

  “They must have had a pretty good idea about how many men we had, or they would have sent a larger force to intercept us.”

  “Maybe they didn’t have anyone else available,” said Harmer.

  Warren shook his head, and replied, “They always sent armies of fifty thousand soldiers on New Copenhagen. It didn’t matter how many men we sent, they always sent fifty thousand.”

  “But if we caught them by surprise,” Harmer began.

  “They could only find five men . . . Are you joking?” asked Warren.

  “Okay, so you think they counted our caskets?” Oliver asked.

  “Aren’t the caskets untraceable?” asked Warren.

  “They are to us . . . with our technology,” said Oliver. “Who knows what they have. For all we know, they may be able to track us by our brain waves.”

  “How would you track an S.I.P.?” asked Warren.

  “Light field, vision, and sound tracking are out; but who’s to say they don’t have technology that senses every time anything breaches their atmosphere,” said Harmer.

  Warren gave Harmer an incredulous glare, and asked, “How in the world did you come up with that?”

  “It’s Occam’s razor, yes? The simplest explanation ...