The Clones of Mawcett

by DePrima, Thomas

  "My Nordakian captain's uniform wouldn't be appropriate?"

  "It's surely not my place to tell you how to dress, My Lady."

  "Please, Mr. Ambassador, I'm not schooled in the protocols of State dinners at consulates. I'd like to rely on you for guidance."

  "Very well, My Lady. On Nordakia, your uniform would be fine for a luncheon, but never for a formal dinner. While male officers might wear their dress uniforms at a State dinner, female officers would wear an appropriate gown. The same rules are usually applied to affairs at consulates, as they are considered extensions of the sovereign ground of their home planet. May I inquire after your hair length?"

  "I normally keep it tightly rolled up while on duty, as required by Space Command regulations, but my hair is still an appropriate length."

  The ambassador smiled. "Thank you, My Lady. Will you have an escort for the dinner, or shall I arrange for one?"

  "I have a friend whom I believe will escort me."

  "Very good, My Lady. Thank you so much for seeing me, and thank you for bestowing this honor on our consulate here."

  "It's my pleasure, Mr. Ambassador."

  Holding out a holo-tube, he said, "Here's a copy of the list of guests that have been invited, My Lady."

  Jenetta activated the tube and looked over the list, nodding at the names she saw there. "May I ask a favor?"

  "Anything, My Lady."

  "I'd like to invite my sister to the dinner party."

  "Of course, My Lady. We'd be most honored to have her attend. I wasn't aware that you had a sister here or I would have included her on the guest list."

  "Eliza came with us from Mawcett."

  "Oh? Oh–– you mean the clone."

  "I prefer to think of her as my sister. Is there a problem?"

  "Well, ah, not exactly. It's just that their status hasn't been established yet."

  "Have you met any of them?"

  "Yes, I have. The clones of Doctor Dakshiku Vlashsku and Glawth Djetch came to the consulate yesterday. Following your example, Doctor Dakshiku Vlashsku and Glawth Djetch refer to them as their brothers, and they've requested that each receive an identity disk."

  "And did you issue the disks?"

  "The matter is still being debated by the Galactic Alliance Council. Our Majesty prefers to wait until a decision is reached there before issuing a proclamation."

  "It doesn't seem like there's much choice. They're healthy, living beings, who just happen to have been born a bit differently than what we consider normal, but they're here. We can't very well just ignore them."

  "It's not my place to say, My Lady, but that's a possibility."

  "You mean that they might not be given citizenship on Nordakia?"

  "Not only Nordakia. Earth may refuse to acknowledge the clones of Terrans. The Galactic Alliance has long imposed strict sentences against people found guilty of conducting cloning experiments."

  "But that doesn't apply here. The cloning was done in error and you can't punish the innocent beings that were created."

  "I'm only the ambassador, My Lady. I serve at the discretion of the King and Queen. They will decide the fate of the clones, not I," the ambassador said apologetically.

  "You're correct, Mr. Ambassador," Jenetta said contritely. "I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you. I have a special interest in the matter."

  "I understand completely, My Lady. Shall I have the hand maidens come here to help you and your sister dress or would you prefer to come to the consulate?"

  "We'll dress at my sister's quarters in the BOQ. She'll need a headdress since her hair is quite short."

  "I'll have the handmaidens bring one along."

  "Thank you, Mr. Ambassador. I'll see you two weeks from Saturday evening."

  The ambassador bowed his head as he placed his closed hand against his chest. "Thank you, My Lady."

  Summoned to Captain Kanes' office in the Intelligence Section the next day, Jenetta sat staring at the lifeless color of the plain off-white walls of his waiting area until instructed to go in by an aide. She promised herself that if she ever had an outer office, she would give visitors something to look at while they waited. The order to appear had come through Commander LaSalle on this fourteenth day since arriving at the station, and LaSalle hadn't told Jenetta the reason for the orders, if she had known. LaSalle's contrary attitude towards her stopped Jenetta from asking anything more of her superior than she absolutely had to know. When she had previously asked for more information on other matters, LaSalle had very curtly told her that if there was more she needed to know, the information would have already been passed along. So Jenetta now only asked questions if she felt that critical information for the performance of her duties was missing; hardly the best relationship for a ship's senior officer and her immediate superior, to put it mildly.

  As Jenetta passed through a double set of soundproofed doors and entered the spacious office, she saw Kanes seated at a large circular holo-table with four other officers.

  "Come in, Commander," Kanes said. "Have a seat. You've met Lieutenant Commanders Reuter, Coulon, Lofgren, and Lieutenant Dolan."

  "Yes sir, I remember them from my interrogation in the hospital when I was charged with being AWOL. Good day, gentlemen. Am I to be charged with something, sir?" Jenetta asked, smiling.

  Kanes returned her smile. "No, not at all, Jen; you're here in your capacity as a valued member of the team this time. We've been working on the possible locations of Raider bases and we wanted your input. The late Commander Pretorious told you that there were five more Raider bases, other than Raider-One, in the part of the galaxy regulated by the Galactic Alliance?"

  "Yes sir. And Mikel Arneu said they needed the explosives the Vordoth was carrying, for the construction of their newest base, so there may be a sixth, or even more, by now."

  "For the present we're operating under the assumption that only five are active. The blows that we've struck during the past year have crippled their operations in this part of space. The attack on Mawcett was the first overt attack in this entire grid section since they attacked Higgins eleven months ago. Our operatives have reported that the Raiders are recruiting heavily in every hellhole in the galaxy, and if we're lucky we'll be able to plant a few people on the inside. We haven't had much success in the past, but we remain hopeful because they're so desperate right now."

  "I wouldn't be a bit surprised to learn that the Raiders have a few people inside Space Command Intelligence feeding them information. Keep the names of your operatives very close, sir."

  "We've already completed a new, and very exhaustive security check of every member of my section, but you're right, and people in the know will be few. We'd like to hear your thoughts on the possible locations of Raider bases. Computer, display a holographic view of grid section 8667."

  The entire area above the table lit up with a 3-D representation of the section that Kanes specified.

  "The Raider officer that you captured, Commander Pretorious, told us that the fleet we engaged at the Battle of Vauzlee would come from Raider Two and Raider Three. Although he refused to tell us where they were located, we're reasonably sure that they're in this grid unit."

  "Sir, almost seventy percent of Galactic Alliance space falls within that single, 1,000,000 square light-year grid," Jenetta said.

  "How would you narrow it down, Commander?"

  "I think that you'll find both those bases within deca-sector 8667-4165. That's still a tremendous area but it's only one percent of grid unit 8667."

  "It so happens that we agree with you, Commander," Kanes said. "All of the Raider attacks in sector 8667 have been plotted. Computer, set Higgins to flashing green and triple light intensity." Instantly, the point of light representing the base brightened and began flashing in green. "Computer, place a blue flashing dot where the Battle of Vauzlee took place, and a red flashing dot where Raider-One was located." When that was done he said, "Computer, plot the reported positions of all Raider attacks in deca
-sector 8667-4165, or the last estimated position of ships lost during the past ten years. Highlight them in orange."

  Orange dots began to sprout all over the holographic image like a time lapse vid of germinating seedlings. It took a few seconds for all points to appear, and as the hologram became covered with dots, everyone at the table studied the hologram intently.

  After a couple of minutes, Kanes said, "Computer, remove all solar system reference points and natural phenomena, and remove all ship position points that are not within twenty-five light-years of any other ship position points."

  The holographic image cleared up considerably.

  "That should remove the unplanned attack locations, and the clutter of star systems," he said. "There appears to be three distinct areas now. Look at the concentration around the Raider-One location."

  The former location of the Raider-One base was not in the center of the activity within its area of space, but it was well within the heaviest concentration of attacks in that area.

  Lt. Commander Reuter said, "But each of these concentrations is still about twenty to thirty light-years across."

  "Searching a deca-sector is a lot easier than searching the entire grid unit," Lt. Commander Lofgren said. "At least it gives us a good starting point for the search."

  "Assuming that this identifies the general location of the bases," Jenetta said, "the one nearest Mawcett appears to be about a hundred light-years away. At Light-225, it would take about six months to get there."

  "Why Light-225?" Lt. Commander Coulon asked.

  "That's what I estimate as the absolute top speed of the Tsgardi ship that has my sister, based on everything that I've learned about their shipbuilding techniques and technology. I may be crediting them with too much speed, given that their engineers are reputed to the worst in the galaxy, but I want to be conservative in my estimate. We have at least four and half months to get to them before they can reach a Raider base."

  "They have a six-week head start," Lieutenant Dolan said.

  "If we know where they're heading, and left today on the Prometheus, we'd be there a month before they arrived. We just don't know exactly where they're heading. They may not even be going to the nearest base."

  "That's true, Commander," Kanes said. After a minute of silence, during which everyone stared at the holographic image, he said, "If you captained your own warship, and could go wherever you wished, where would you head?"

  Jenetta picked up a holo-pointer wand and aimed it at a point in the hologram. "I'd head to a point right about there."

  "Why there?" Lt. Commander Reuter asked.

  "Because of this: Computer, remove all contact points that are not within five light-years of any other contact points."

  The clutter of orange disappeared leaving six dense clusters of dots. The Raider-One location was in the dead center of the densest grouping, and the spot that Jenetta had pointed to was in the center of another highly concentrated group.

  "I don't know that the Raiders would be so stupid as to attack such a large concentration of ships practically on their doorstep, but they might be," Jenetta said as she picked up the light pointer again. "We have to remember that this represents ten years of collected data, and they may not have plotted the attack points as we have. In any event that's where I'd start. Computer, display and expand just the sector that I pointed to. Add in the star systems."

  Instantly, the image changed to reflect just the one sector, and the legend at the bottom of the image identified it as 8667-4165. There were four solar systems within ten light-years from the point that Jenetta had selected, with a total of thirty-two planets and dozens of moons. Two of the systems had an asteroid belt around the star, and three planets had rings composed of asteroids.

  "That's a lot of real estate to examine," Captain Kanes said.

  "Yes, but it shouldn't be necessary to examine it all. I'd look at the asteroids first, knowing how they created Raider-One, and it might not be necessary to examine anything else. We could even just lay in wait and watch for the Tsgardi vessel to approach, or else watch for the movement of other ships."

  "If you were spotted, you might have a real fight on your hands, assuming there's an entire fleet of fighting ships at the base." Lt. Commander Coulon said.

  "Yes, it might be suicide to go there with just one ship, but without the ships they lost at Vauzlee and here at Higgins, they won't be nearly as aggressive as they once were."

  "You're recommending that we attack, Commander?" Kanes asked.

  "It would be better to go on the offensive now, while they're weak, than after they've had a chance to rebuild their fleet."

  "But we're not exactly sure where they are, or even if they're in that area," Lt. Commander Lofgren said.

  "Yes sir. And I'm sure that you've already discussed everything I've said today, and identified the possible systems where they might be located. I was asked for my opinion so I've given it."

  "I appreciate your candor, Commander, as well as your military insight," Kanes said. "Thank you for coming in. You're dismissed."

  "Yes sir," Jenetta said, before standing and turning to leave the room.

  "Oh, Commander?"

  Jenetta stopped and turned back towards Kanes. "Sir?"

  "Have you given any more thought to joining us here in Intelligence?"

  Jenetta smiled slightly. "Thank you, sir, but I can't think of anyplace that I'd rather be than aboard the Prometheus."

  Captain Kanes just nodded.

  As Jenetta left the office, she wondered why she'd been summoned to the meeting. Since the attacks had already been plotted, they no doubt knew the approximate location of the Raider bases, so her input would have been of little real value. Had it just been another ploy to interest her in joining the Intelligence section by re-introducing her to the officers who comprised Kanes' senior advisory staff?

  As the sound-proofed doors closed behind her, Kanes looked at Lt. Commander Lofgren and said, "I told you she was quick. She went right to the area in 8667-4165 that we had identified."

  "It's hard to believe that the Academy staff was so wrong about her," Lofgren replied. Chuckling, he added, "Her file from those years indicates that she can't reach a decision without taking a shuttle."

  "Apparently she was trying to avoid making any errors by considering every possible permutation in the solution of a problem before acting. Now she goes with her first instincts, and we can't deny her success. I wish we could convince her to join us in Intelligence."

  * * *

  The ship's doctor visited Christa in the brig of the Tsgardi destroyer Boshdyte every few days to examine her for serious problems or complications resulting from the daily beatings.

  "You're in remarkably good shape considering our Captain's daily visits, Commander," she heard in the tiny translator earpiece that she was always given when a visitor came into the cell.

  "I owe it all to clean living and lots of rest, Doctor; lots and lots of rest. Any chance of getting out of here for a little exercise? I'm going to forget how to walk pretty soon."

  "The Captain will never permit you to exercise freely, but–– I might be able to have you brought to me in the sick bay for your checkups. You wouldn't be released from your shackles though. The Captain knows of your unarmed combat skills."

  "I'd welcome any opportunity to get out of here for a walk; even with the chains on."

  "Very well. I'll tell the Captain that your condition necessitates your being taken to sick bay from now on."

  "Thank you, Doctor."

  After the doctor left, Jenetta began her daily exercise routine. Although shackled she was able to adequately exercise her muscles so there was no danger of her 'forgetting' how to walk, but she needed to get out of the cell in order to start developing a plan of escape. Being chained to the wall left little such opportunity.

  She completed her exercising in time for the Captain's daily visit.

  "So, Commander Carver, are you ready to talk t
o me today?"

  "Why not. Let's talk about families. Did your mother birth any Tsgardi babies that lived?"

  The captain's mouth curled into a nasty snarl and he swung the short whip with all his might. Christa felt it land on her left arm and then curl around to her back. The captain's snarl turned into a grin.

  "You will not insult me or my family if you wish to survive this voyage."

  Christa shook off the pain and asked, "Where are we going by the way?"

  "To your worst nightmare."

  "To your bedroom?" Christa asked in mock horror.

  Swish went the whip again. This time the blow landed on her right arm.

  "The Raiders have told me how smart you are, but I see no sign of intelligence. Even the dumbest Horway on my planet is smart enough to avoid being whipped continuously."

  "What's a Horway?"

  "A child's pet. It's so stupid that it will take any amount of physical abuse without fighting back."

  "You must have derived great pleasure from torturing your defenseless Horway when you were just a little monkey."

  The whip swished again and the tip landed cruelly on her back. But the pain, which had already started to dull, had kicked in the programming that gave her a euphoric feeling.

  Christa's giggle brought a scowl to the lips of the Tsgardi. "If you find it so amusing to be whipped, I see that I'll have to start visiting you twice a day."

  "Oh, it's not the whipping," Christa said, suppressing another giggle.

  "What is it then?"

  "I just remembered a silly childhood joke. You tell someone that you just received a Henway. They ask you 'What's a Henway?', and you answer, "Oh, about four or five pounds."

  The Tsgardi captain stared at her like she had grown a second head.

  "It's a play on words in Amer," she explained. "It's as if someone asked you, 'How much does a hen weigh?' So when I asked you, 'What's a Horway?' you should have answered, "Oh, about a hundred pounds."

  "Horways are small pets, weighing just a few pounds."

  "But a whore weighs about a hundred pounds." Christa said, then giggled again.