Clone Killers

by Raylan Kane

  “No, it’s not medicine I seek,” I said. “I mean to get to Hyll, reclaim my family’s stolen truck. I’m a hay farmer. Of Hold’s Farm, perhaps you know of it.”

  “Assuredly we don’t.”

  “No.”

  The man sits back in his car and speeds his car around me. The car quickly disappears. The sun has peaked and begun its long, slow decline, in this, the sun and I share a common fate.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Hay farming is not my vocation of choice. Father Brigg wants me to take over the farm, I’ve have no say in this matter. He and Mother plan on moving to Das, the closer of Sydin’s two moons, where my Aunt Winn has a capsulated home. Father says after 5000 years, he’s tired of the plains. Das is a small moon comprised of one place, Das City, a densely populated city that covers the entire moon – with tall buildings as far as the eye can see. I have been to Das twice – I am more suited to a less condensed life.

  Still, if Father thinks I will be manning Hold Farm for five millennia, he will be sorely disappointed. I’d applied to the Tillg Constabulary when I turned 600, but was rejected under the “Growth Act” which states that a farmer or grower may not abandon a position which may disrupt or inhibit food production. It was a technicality. Time and again I have seen farm boys I knew accepted as police in the small town of Tillg, I was rejected because my father holds sway over the Tillg Low Council.

  The sun will soon be slow dancing with the horizon. I have walked for hours, and I have hours left to walk. I may reach Hyll in the middle of Full Dark, but that will not do. I may not even survive to see the middle of Full Dark and besides the night is no time to be walking alone in a city like Hyll. As a child I’d often questioned the commonality of a saying like “be cautious” – I’m beginning to understand its meaning.

  I can see far up ahead on the right, a black blur that might be the start of the forest line. Gust does have parcelages of wooded land scattered about, but true forests do not emerge until one is close to crossing over into Jye which is all forest. Hyll is not far across the border between Gust and Jye, it sits at the base of two mountains and at the mouth of Hyll Bay, an inlet from the Lure, Sydin’s northern warm water ocean.

  If I can make it to the forest line I may have a fighting chance, as it’s easier,

  A mighty ricochet sounds to my left. Another pops close to my feet. Someone is shooting at me!

  I’m lying flat in the gulley to the right of the road. Another shot sends pebbles scattering close by. My suspicions are correct, the shots are coming from the left side of the road. There is a figure in gray walking east along the gulley on the opposite side, still a fair distance to my west. It looks to be a man, he sees me, and he’s aiming again. The bullet lodges in the soft soil behind me.

  “Wait, fair sir, wait!” I yell. “I mean you no harm.”

  He is almost opposite to where I lay. As I peak over the surface of the road, I see the barrel of his rifle aimed square.

  “How am I to know of your true intention?” He said – his voice sounds more youthful now that I hear it more clearly.

  “You don’t. You need to trust. I am unarmed,”I said.

  “I have been troubled by unarmed men before.”

  “I am not one to trouble.”

  “Again, how am I to know that?” He sounds nervous.

  He’s walked slowly to the center of the road. With the sun behind him, he is a faceless shadow. I can see metal barrel pointed directly at my face. He is standing over me.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “I would ask that you not point your weapon so directly,” I said.

  “You ask too much,” he said, voice trembling. “One has to be caut-”

  “Cautious. I know,” I said. “I am just as aware to the dangers of traveling alone as you – perhaps more so.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Bramen Hold, hay farmer.” I’m lying on my back extending my right hand up to him, hoping he'll take the bait.

  He’s taken his right hand away from his gun and he’s shaking my hand.

  “Trident Foil, cloneman.”

  “I do apologize, Trident,” I said.

  “Apologize?”

  “For this.”

  With a firm grip on his right hand I pull it close to my chest, I curl my legs overhead and clasp them beneath his jaw and pull down. He somersaults over me and down hard on his back to the base of the gulley. There’s an audible gasp as air is thumped from his lungs, he writhes in the dirt, fighting to breathe. The rifle lays to my right, I secure it and stand over the man, with my boot on his left shoulder.

  After a few moments, the man regains his breath.

  “I thought you said you were not one to trouble others?” He said.

  “I thought you said one has to be cautious?”

  “Can I have my gun back?” He said.

  I take my boot off his shoulder and allow him to stand a distance apart.

  “Why do you want your gun back,” I said, “so you can feed on my flesh? You do realize it is not Full Dark, not by any measure?”

  “My intention was not to engage in the Rule of the Hunt,” he said. “I was merely protecting myself. Clearly my instinct to do so was true.”

  “I told you I meant you no harm, and I still do not,” I said. “I defended myself.”

  “You defend rather well,” he said.

  “How you flatter the man holding the gun,” I said.

  “How courageous you are hiding behind it.”

  “You would prefer I place it aside?” I said. “We can further discuss courage without weaponry. Is that how you would prefer it?”

  I am not fooling in this way. I am always keen for a physical test, I am not often bested, fat tricksters aside. Father says I have a death wish. I call it confidence in my abilities. Trident can see my lack of fear, it appears. He’s backing away as I place the rifle on the ground.

  “Wait, wait. That appears to be a needless exercise. We can be friendly, you and me.”

  “I am more than willing. But don’t make threats. I am always ready for a test, I seldom fail.”

  “I can see that. You are an aggressive one, aren’t you?” Trident said.

  Now I feel badly. I have been a slight bit unkind.

  “Apologies,” I said. “Let us move past this. Perhaps we may travel together.”

  “Perhaps. So long as you keep a fair distance apart.”

  “Agreed.”

  I pick up the rifle and we both walk along the road headed west.

  “You’re a cloneman,” I said. “That’s a terrible job. Where do you work?”

  “Foil Farms – we are not far back from the direction you came. You’re right. I don’t enjoy what I do. My father insists I learn the business. We could use someone with skills such as yours.”

  Clonemen are women and men who work on clone farms. They are the ones tasked with bringing clones from their holding cells to the slaughter room – needless to say the clones offer their fair share of resistance.

  “Where were you headed?” I say.

  “Back to my family,” Trident said, “I was driving a truck of product to Hyll, and I was ambushed. I was able to grab my gun, but I am not much of a shot I’m afraid. What about you?”

  “Hyll as well,” I said. “I was also ambushed. I have a truck of product and was headed for the city to sell it.”

  “Quite a coincidence. I want to meet the soul who ambushed you,” Trident chuckled.

  “As do I – our second meeting won’t be so pleasant,” I said. “Wait, was one of your thieves a fat man, about yay high? Traveling with an old miss?”

  “She said her Liebling was hurt,” Trident said.

  “Curses!”

  “I saw no other truck,” Trident said. “There were many thieves though.”

  “Yes. I know of them.”

  “And you’re walking to Hyll alone to find them? Are you mad?”

 
“I was to bring home 500 Fold for that truckload,” I said. “Madness would be facing my father without it.”

  “My truckload was worth 1000.”

  “All the more reason to come with me to Hyll,” I said.

  “I’m coming with you because you have a gun held to me.”

  “I am merely holding it for safety,” I said. “You were shooting at me, after all.”

  “Still.”

  “You want to go home and face your folks having lost your truck and 1000 Fold? I don’t know your means, but 1000 Fold could break many a farm.”

  “I don’t have the courage to travel to Hyll,” Trident said. “I am neither skilled nor as courageous as you. You didn’t even have a gun.”

  “But now I do. We do,” I said.

  “We?”

  “Yes. We can travel together. Best to be caut-”

  “Be cautious, yes, I know,” Trident said. “You’ve taught me that lesson already.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  We’ve lost the sun, Full Dark is upon us. Trident agrees we are safer to travel in the trees and keep the road in view to our left. The land has become more treacherous – many large rock outcroppings have popped up and there are hills of varying size in all directions. Walking without the aid of light is tricky indeed, though tonight Sydin’s farthest moon, Caron, is three,quarters full showering a blue hue over everything.

  I am holding the rifle. Trident says I am likely the better shot, and given the display I’d witnessed earlier, I’d have to agree. We haven’t heard any gunshots yet, but that doesn’t mean there are no hunters about. There’s not many in the way of residences around here, so that works in our favor. Judging by the landscape we’re likely less than two hours walking to Hyll.

  “What is that? Do you hear it?” Trident says.

  We stop walking. I hear nothing. I shrug.

  “You don’t hear that?”

  “Lower your voice,” I said.

  “It sounds like a stream. Running water, definitely,” Trident said. “This way.”

  “Wait.”

  “What?” Trident said. “You’re not thirsty?”

  “If that is indeed water you hear,” I said. “Would there not be other thirsty souls about?”

  “Good thought,” Trident said. “You have the gun. You go first.”

  “Very well.”

  I’ve motioned for us to crouch while we walk. We are being deliberate with our steps. One foot softly in front of the other. There are pine needles covering the ground, along with cones and branches. Any false or heavy step could be deadly.

  As we step closer I hear it – it does sound like a running stream. As we come closer to the rushing water, we’ve encountered a small area almost entirely encircled by trees.

  “Wait here, I will look,” I say.

  I’ve left the circle of trees and I’m creeping closer to the stream. There’s a small clearing ahead to the right of a large boulder. I have the rifle held up, ready to shoot. I’m walking steadily, directly to the shadows cast by the boulder. Standing behind this giant rock I am concealed. On the other side is a clearing next to the stream. I peak around and see only the clearing and the stream colored blue by the light of the moon – not a soul around.

  I’m crouched further to the right now searching to my right and left, up and down the stream. There are many shadows cast by overhanging tree branches from the tall pines and spruce, many places for a cautious traveler or hunter alike to hide. I see no one. All I hear is the relaxing trickles of fresh water flowing by.

  I am fairly confident there are no others here, it’s safe to retrieve Trident.

  “No!”

  CHAPTER NINE

  With my shoulder curled and my feet planted, I send a stranger who’s appeared behind me to the ground on his back. Even in the dark I can see his eyes are wide, his body language also suggests he is quite frightened.

  “No!” He cries.

  “Shhh – I won’t hurt you if you tell me your purpose for being out here,” I said, “but you need to keep your voice down.”

  “What’s going on?” Trident has come out from hiding. “Who is this?”

  “A passing stranger,” I said to Trident. I looked back at the startled man. “You're unarmed. So we can assume you weren’t out here hunting.”

  The man is laying there staring up at us, frozen with fear.

  “It’s fine for you to speak,” I said. “I have put the gun aside. Where are you headed?”

  “No!” Again the man cries out as though I'm about to hit him.

  “You need to tell this one to speak quieter,” Trident said, “he's going to get us all killed.”

  “I've already told him,” I said.

  “Sir, you must be more quiet,” Trident says to the man, “what’s your name?”

  I’m reaching out offering to help the man to his feet. Instead he is worming away in fear along the ground.

  “No!” He cries.

  “This one seems rather simple in the head,” Trident said.

  I hand the rifle to Trident and walk directly over to the man. I’m grabbing beneath his arms and hoisting him to his feet. His body has gone stiff, and he is standing with us.

  “He’s too afraid to move,” I say.

  “What is your issue, simple one?” Trident said.

  “You could stand to be more polite,” I said. I placed a gentle hand on the arm of the frightened man. “We’re not going to hurt you, unless you give us cause,” I say. “Be calm, good sir. Please tell us your name.”

  The man stands there looking at us. He has his hands held up on either side of his head.

  “Your name?” Trident said. “You do have a name don’t you?”

  “Come on! No! You’re next! No!” The man shouts these as though they're commands.

  “What is wrong with him?” I said.

  “Curses and rhyme! This one’s a clone,” Trident said.

  “Is this trickery?” I said.

  “I assure you it’s not,” Trident said. “He’s repeating the only words he knows. The ones he hears all the time on a clone farm.”

  “Are you a clone, sir?” I said.

  The man is watching us speak with wide eyes, too frightened to budge.

  “He won’t be able to answer that,” Trident said. “He doesn’t have the self-awareness to know what a clone is or that he is one.”

  “You’re sure about this?” I said.

  “Trust me. I’m a cloneman after all. I work with them all the time.”

  “You raise a good point,” I say.

  “Watch this.” Trident steps close to the man. “This one?” Trident says as he points at the man’s face.

  “No!”

  “Another one?”

  “Yes!” The man shouts.

  “Yes?” Trident says.

  “Yes!”

  “Speak to me? Yes?”

  “Yes!”

  “What’s 19 times seven?” Trident asks the man.

  The man looks straight at me.

  “He’s not answering your stupid math query,” I said. “You’ve scared him.”

  “It’s because he doesn’t know the answer,” Trident said. “They know certain common words or sometimes even phrases, but clones are never taught math. Math is for the educated, it’s for the rest of us, the living, not for the condemned. Anytime there have been escaped clones, even the most cunning are betrayed by math. It’s a language they’ve never learned.”

  “Clones with cunning?” I said. “There is such a thing?”

  “You’re surprised?” Trident said. “They find a fleshik straight away once they've escaped, they cannot get by with pale blue skin. So they modify it to normal skin colors.”

  “Fleshiks don’t exist,” I said. “They’re an old myth.”

  “The High Council has many secrets,” Trident said. “Besides, there’s a black market for everything.”


  “No!” The clone cries.

  “We should move,” I said. “We’ve been standing here and speaking loudly for too long.”

  “What do we do with him?” Trident said.

  “We bring him with us.”

  “To Hyll? Are you foolish?” Trident said. “Are you not aware of the penalty for harboring a clone?”

  Gunshots erupt behind us.

  “Down!” I said.

  We’ve hit the ground hard facing the direction of the road where the shots came from. Trident passes me the rifle.

  “No!” The clone cries.

  “Shhhh!” Trident tries to quiet the man.

  Another shot rings off the boulder behind us.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Two men have guns pointed at us, point blank. One of the men grabs the rifle from me.

  “Stand up,” the man says.

  Trident and I stand, and we grab the clone to stand with us.

  “Out to the road,” the man says, “move.”

  “Perhaps we may quench our thirst before you kill us?” I say.

  “No,” the man said.

  “No!” The clone cries. His cries come out at seemingly random times. Like a default reaction to anything and everything.

  “Your friend have a bloody issue in the head?” The man with the gun says. “Is he mocking us?”

  “It’s a learning disability. He’s my brother, I care for him,” Trident said.

  “Out in Full Dark is hardly caring,” the mister said.

  The forest floor crunches beneath us as we make our way back to the road. Once we reach the edge of the cutline, I see a cube truck on the road and can hear its engine idle. Another person, a miss, waits there as we approach.

  “Whatever your plan is,” I say to our captors, “you should know, we have skills that may be useful to you.”

  “Our plan?” Says the miss. “Our plan is to shoot you. Rule of the Hunt. We’re farmers, we could use the meat. Though you look a bit muscley for my taste.” She laughs at me.

  “No!” The clone cries yet again, as if on cue.