by Raylan Kane
“The clone whisperer,” Trident says to me.
I chuckle. I have my arms folded on the edge of the platform, my legs dangling in the warm water.
“You coming?” Trident said.
“Do you see how clear the bottom of this pool is – you can barely tell it’s there.”
“I noticed – better that you’re in it than me. I've had enough heart attacks for one day.”
“And look at the other edge – just a straight drop on the other side – no ledge to rest upon or anything – just the side of the inside of the pool and then –“
“Death.”
“Yes.”
“I imagine if you dare to open your eyes underwater in that thing the whole city around you will like it’s under the sea.”
“Another time.”
Trident giggles, “I know you’re not one for heights.”
“Or water – correct.”
Trident reaches down to me, I grab his hand and he helps pull me out of the water. Water falls all around me as I drag my soaking body inside.
The room is broad and open and white. A white door sits on the other side – presumably to a corridor inside the building.
An “L” shaped sofa sits in the center of the room. Three bedrooms are off to one side – the inside wall of each is a window that looks in on the center room. A small kitchen sits at the other end – there’s a bathroom just inside the glass doors. A carpeted ladder stands along one wall and leads to a loft bedroom surrounded by windows up above.
“If no one else wants that loft up there I’ll take it,” I said.
“It’s all yours,” Milne said.
“Yes, I’m fine with this one,” Trident said pointing to one of the rooms on this level.
The clone sits naked on the end of the sofa.
“What’s with this one?” I said. “You told him to remove his clothes? So, your true intentions are revealed.” I smiled at Milne.
“He did that on his own. Soaking wet clothes don’t feel too good.”
“We should find him something else to wear. He's a little, uh, over-exposed.”
“Now we know he has normal colored skin all over,” Trident said.
“You would notice such a thing,” I said.
“Typical men,” Milne said with a smile. “You’re like children. It's a naked body, get over it.”
“And I suppose you are the adult among us,” I said.
“Of course.” Milne gives me a flirty smile as she comes toward me, I lean in to kiss her and she pulls away and walks into one of the bedrooms. “Look – there’s a clean uniform and another pair of shoes in here – I’m guessing these are his size.”
“Good guess,” I said. “I’d say there’s the same for each of us in each of the rooms.”
“If a uniform and shoes that are your size are sitting up in that loft – I am going to be freaked out,” Trident said.
“Let’s find out.” I climb up and grab the folded uniform and hold it up to my body – sure enough it appears to be my fit.
“That is so weird.”
There’s a knock at the door. I quickly climb down from the loft. Trident walks over and looks through a peep hole on the door. “Who is it?” I said.
“A man holding a silver tray,” Trident said.
“We need to put some clothes on him,” I said.
“I’ll take care of it,” Milne said. She grabs the clone’s hands and leads him into his room and closes the door. She pulls the curtain across the inside bedroom window. The curtain is sheer white and makes the two of them into silhouettes.
Trident opens the door and the mister with the tray steps inside. He wears a black suit. “Good afternoon,” he said.
“Good afternoon.”
“Compliments of the High Council.” The man places the large tray on a table in front of the sofa. He lifts off the lid and there are four plates and cutlery. On each plate is a portion of pinkish meat – flattened and oval shaped.
“What is it?” I said.
“Why it’s human of course,” the man said.
“Of course.”
“Round flat-fry – very popular dish in Niona.”
“Forgive me,” I said. “We have a friend with us – he’s a clone.”
“As are you,” the mister said curtly. His tone stung me in a way.
“Yes.”
“Ah, well – I didn’t say it was clone.”
Trident and I look at each other with wide eyes.
“If there won’t be anything else – I’ll be on my way,” the mister said. He walks to the door. “Someone will be around to collect you in the morn. We hope you enjoy your time here – we put you in this older building – thought it might make your stay more comfortable - a little more low-tech. Good day.” The man leaves.
“Curses – they don’t eat cloned meat in the capital?” Trident said.
“What?” Milne walks in with the newly dressed clone.
“This meat – the man said it doesn’t come from a clone.”
“Wow.”
It truly was the best tasting meat I have had in a long time – perhaps ever. Everything about this place seems perfect – what it must be like to be on the High Council and to live here all the time. After our meal we sat around and chatted and stared at the towers around us. The sunset was glorious – an unbelievable swirl of colors. Even the air seems cleaner here. Indeed all of us are in such high spirits – Niona has cast its spell.
The sun is gone now; I lie in bed and stare at the city lights as they shine on all sides. Once in a while I see the lights of a transport blinking as they pass above me. I am completely surrounded by glass here. In the dark you don’t notice the height as much, it is beautiful here. The bed too is perfect – broad and soft – but not too soft, and with clean bedding that makes you want to sprawl and roll around in its fresh crispness.
I drift into a half sleep – a content dreamlike state – I want to stay in this forever. Suddenly I am taken out of it. I hear a sound of movement. A dark shadow appears, it's Milne. Her hair tickles my cheek as she hovers above.
“I was just thinking about you,” I said.
Milne pursed her lips. "Shhh..." She kissed me.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
What a busy morning of surprises. Trident and Milne’s parents all arrived at the door at the same time. There were a lot of tears and smiles and hugs – and not one of them could say why they were in Niona. Later in the morning Mother Dyer and Father Brigg showed up at the door!
“What is going on? What are you doing here?” My mother runs to hug me. She holds me tight and she cries hard. I look over her shoulder to see my father with tears in his eyes.
“They’d told us so little when you were taken away. We feared it was the Haker,” she said.
Milne and Trident step off to the side of the room toward their rooms.
“Where are you going?” I said.
“We thought to give you all some privacy,” Milne said.
“Don’t be foolish,” my mother said. “Please, sit.”
“Mother, father – this is Milne Clowe.”
“Pleasure.”
“And this is Trident Foil.”
“Foil – I know that name,” my father said. “Are you of the Foil Farm Foils?”
“I am indeed.”
“I have met your father in Tillg. Meeting of the Low Council there, I believe.”
“Ah, yes – sounds like something my father might involve himself with. You just missed him, they were here earlier.”
“So, as we’ve asked the other parental units,” I said. “Why have you been brought to Niona?”
“We just wanted to see you,” Mother Dyer said. “It’s been so long.”
“Too long,” said my father.
“Yes, it has. It just seems strange that the High Council would arrange for all of our parents to come and see us at once.”
“Well, I’m sure they have their reasons,” Mother said.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” I said.
“It’s not for us to say,” my father said. “You will find out in short order. We don’t want to bring any trouble on you or on us. Let the High Council inform you of what’s happening.”
“Should we be worried,” Milne said.
“Oh no, dear – don’t worry,” my mother said as she put her head and down and shook as she cried yet again.
“No! Yes!”
“Who is that?” My father said, pointing to the shouting silhouette in one of the bedrooms.
“Oh, that is our friend,” Trident said. “He’s a clone.”
“Speaking of which,” my father said. “Forgive me, but why is your skin blue? I cannot imagine your father would approve of such a thing.”
“It wasn’t his choice – it was a mistake. Lesson learned; don’t trust a drunken fleshik you meet in an alleyway tavern for medical treatment.”
“Ah, yes,” my father nodded.
“Speaking of which,” I said as I looked at my father with a frown. Milne and Trident backed away to the clone’s bedroom quietly and closed the door.
“Yes?”
“When were either of you planning on telling me?” I said.
“Telling you?” My father said.
“Yes – that I’m a clone.”
My mother shot Father a look of anger. My father put his head in his hands. “We meant to tell you. I meant to tell you.”
“And what, you were just waiting for the right time?”
“No – I don’t know. It was a decision I'd made.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were three years old. I was in one of the baling trucks – I didn’t see you. The medical techs said it was the only way to save you.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me when I was old enough?”
“We didn’t want you to feel different,” Mother said. “We knew you would grow to have special abilities – physical advantages.”
“Advantages?”
“Your bodyfighting – when you were cloned – your genes were modified. I wanted you to be safe as you got older.”
“So you modified by genetics to make me a better fighter.”
“And faster – more agile.”
“Is this why you wanted me to take over the farm? So I could earn you more money with my improved physical makeup?”
“Son, I don’t blame you for being angry.”
“Yes, I am.”
“You just have to know – I did this out of love. We didn’t want to lose you. Ever.”
I haven’t ever seen my father cry. Seeing him vulnerable in this way weakens my will to stay angry. I reach out to him and he hugs me. My mother joins us and we stand holding each other for a few minutes. There’s a knock at the door. Milne and Trident and the clone come back into the room. Trident opens the door and two soldiers in black uniforms step inside.
“It’s time,” one of the soldiers says.
“We love you, Bramen,” my mother says.
“Goodbye, son.”
“I love you both. Goodbye.”
My parents leave. I look at the soldiers – each of them looks like a robot and they hold a metal shaft across their chests like no weapon I’ve ever seen. “Where are we going?” I said.
“The High Council will see you now,” they say in unison.
“So do we follow you or-“
No sooner does Trident get those words out when the room around us fades away and we find ourselves standing in a completely different place. The room is black with no windows and white lights shining over us. Gray flooring runs beneath our feet. Many rows of desks rise above us along one wall. Each desk there is a miss or mister seated facing us. The two soldiers stand at our backs. One of them holds the clone in place as he tries to retreat – no doubt alarmed by the abrupt change in setting.
“What’s happened?” I said.
“You have been brought here to learn of your selection for our special project.” A man speaks from the centre of the bottom row of desks. By the sign that sits in front of him he is Chancellor Guile – the head of the High Council.
“How is this possible?” Trident said. “That we were brought here in such a way.”
“You were not brought here for a science lesson,” the Chancellor said. “You were brought here for him.” The man points at me.
“For me?”
“Yes – Bramen Hold. You have a special ability. You are capable of a great many things physically – things few others on Sydin are capable of – we need you on this project.”
“Is that why you sent me to the Haker?”
My question has the various High Councillors buzzing.
“Silence!” The Councillor says loudly. “You were sent to the Haker by Commander Joggard.”
“Yes, I am aware.”
“Well you should also be aware that it was never our intention to do so. Joggard acted of his own accord. We knew of your status as a clone far before that fool made the mistake of disposing of you. Rest assured, the Commander has been dealt with.”
“It was my father that did it, Chancellor,” I said. “He told me I was injured and they-“
“We’re not interested in your life’s story, Mr. Hold; we already know it – recounting it here is a waste of time. We know of all your stories,” he points at each of us. “That is why you are here. If we did not want to retrieve you from the Haker, Bramen Hold, rest assured you would still be there, as would your simple friend.”
“Why did you say Trident was brought here for me?”
“We don’t need Trident Foil for this mission,” the man said. “But we recognize you value him as a friend. We include him because we want you to feel comfortable.”
“And what about me?” Milne said.
“You are a different story.”
“Different?”
“Yes. Out of the millions who have come through the Low Command recruiting system – only one has scored as highly as you on certain important factors – empathy, organization and math. These are invaluable skills for a mission such as this.”
“And what about him?” I said pointing at the clone.
“We would prefer it if he stayed behind – but we know you will fight us on this – so rather than make things difficult we will allow him to travel with you – but I suggest you try to teach him a thing or two or he will only wind up holding your mission back. If such a problem may arise I have instructed your mission Commander to deal with your friend in any way he sees fit.” The Chancellor holds out his arm to one side of the room that is darkened. “Allow me to introduce your Commander for this mission – Rygart, will you please step forward?”
“What?”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
Sure enough, Rygart steps from the shadows and stands before us with a smirk on his face.
“Is this a joke? You expect me to take orders from this man?”
“I don’t expect it, Mr. Hold, it will be done or you will be dealt with.”
“I don’t believe this,” Milne said. “Bramen finished higher than he did at the evaluation in Thiel.”
“Indeed he did Ms. Clowe, but Bramen has never been a member of a Regional Low Command. Other than you, Rygart here finished highest of all the recruits.”
“So put me in charge then.”
“We need you for other things. And please relax – all of you. Commander Rygart will be following orders as well – as will all of you from your Captain. Marek, please step forward.”
Marek, the changeling I’d met at the Haker steps beside Rygart. He is a couple of inches taller than Rygart, and nowhere near as big as he’d made himself when he came for me at the Haker. He looks a lot more normal standing there in his black uniform than he did that day.
“Now, you’re probably wondering what the mission is – th
e mission you are about to embark on.”
“Yes,” Trident said, “finally.”
“Do we not need to agree to take part first?” I said.
“You do not have a choice in this matter,” the Chancellor said. “You have been selected. You excelled in all aspects of evaluation. Your genetics are impeccable – you are going.”
“You see what they do? They butter you up to disguise their disdain.”
“Silence!”
A large picture appears in front of us of some kind of futuristic machine – jagged and huge and gray.
“This is the Holocene. This is your ship for the next 70,419 years.”
“Our ship?” I said. “To go on water? 70,000 years - why so long?”
“It is a ship that travels through space, young Bramen.”
“I was told all growing up that a thing like this could never exist.”
“You were told wrong.”
“70,000 years is ridiculous,” Milne said. “Why would we travel so far?”
“Because you are about to do something no one on this world has ever done. You are going to stake out a new world – a place for all Sydinians to live one day.”
Trident faints. Someone rushes in from the shadows to attend to him.
The Chancellor points to my fallen comrade, "this is why we didn't want him to go," he said as he shook his head.
“What is wrong with Sydin?” I said.
“Nothing – at the moment,” the Chancellor said. “But, 71,220 years from now an asteroid larger than both our moons put together will hit us. The effects of this – as I’m sure you can imagine – will be devastating. All life on this planet will cease to be. We need our strongest and best to build a colony on this new planet.”
“So why not send everyone on these space ships to the new world?” Milne said. “What about our families?”
“We don’t have the resources to build enough ships at this very moment.”
