by James Chalk
My thoughts were interrupted when the Colonel stepped into the room. As always, he was severely dressed and held himself with perfectly rigid posture. The insane rage that lit his eyes the night before had been replaced by a cold, but placid calm that was perhaps even more frightening.
With startling banality, he said, “Good morning, Prince Jonathan. I trust you slept well?”
I decided to emulate his polite facade and replied, “Quite well, thank you for asking.” And then, because I couldn’t resist, “I do seem to have developed a bit of a headache.”
He smiled and responded, “I’m afraid that will soon be naught but a drop in the ocean, Your Highness. But never mind, that’s for later. Right now, I’m taking you on a tour of my meat factory. I think you will find it very edifying and it is my last opportunity to show it off! Come along.”
He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. I followed, all the while looking for an opportunity to jump the guards. They stepped back, aiming their weapons, denying me the chance. I caught up with the Colonel and they filed in behind us, still training their pistols on me. Harvey stayed behind. As we walked down the hall, I heard him call out, “Have a nithe day.”
It was all too bizarre and I was really worried that Leakey had hurt Carla. I couldn’t play his little social game any longer. I barked at him, “Where is Carla? What did you do to her? If you hurt her…”
His backhand to my cheek knocked me off my feet and into the wall. Even though my bones are reinforced, I felt my jaw crack and my cheek crumble. The fuck-head was strong. I mean, really strong. The kind of strong that requires bio-enhancement! Yet, bio-enhancements are strictly illegal on Sanctity, a violation of their most holy beliefs.
I staggered to my feet as shock and anger overcame the pain. I stepped towards him. The soldiers assumed shooting stances. His belly-laugh filled the hall, “How droll, Prince Jonny. You actually think you can best me!”
Then his tone and demeanor changed, the anger from the previous night leaking out his eyes, “You presume too much. She was never yours and she never will be. She is mine. I will do with her as I wish and you, my Prince, will not be around to stop me!”
He moved so fucking fast it was as if he teleported. Suddenly he was just there, in my face, nose-to-nose, his hand clenched around my neck. My feet were off the ground and my back was against the wall. His arm wasn’t even locked out. He held me there as if I weighed nothing. I grabbed for his arm to pull it loose, but it was like stone. I tried to snap a finger while kicking his knee. More stone!
“Shit!” I thought.
Then his face slid around to my ear. In a lover’s tone, he whispered, “We are going to have so much fun today, you and I. I am so looking forward to our… final moments.”
The same shocking pain I had succumbed to the night before inflamed my neck. I screamed and kicked for his balls. He grunted, but otherwise did not flinch. My pain doubled. I screamed some more while he gradually lowered me the six inches to the floor. Six, slow, agonizing seconds with him grinning lasciviously into my face. He released me and the pain receded to tolerable levels. I could tell that there was a lot of burn damage and imagined that my nanobots were hard-at-work, fixing me up. I was going to need another steak if this kept up.
I leaned against the wall, trying to breath through my scorched throat. He smiled, affecting an affable demeanor, and said, “Step lively, Prince Jonathan. We have much to see and do.” He turned heel and marched down the hall. The soldiers snapped their pistols up as they fell into matching shooting stances. Perhaps I was in shock, because all I could do was laugh at their twin sneers. Tears ran down my face as I snickered my way past them, trotting to catch up with the fuck-head Colonel.
He looked at me and exclaimed, “Oh, good Jonny-boy! Just down this corridor is our first stop, the cloning lab.”
I thought maybe his bizarre changes in demeanor were rubbing off on me. My laughter quickly faded, replaced with fear. I wondered what he planned for me and what he had done with Carla.
We entered a large room that had clearly been a lab but was now largely empty. Just a bunch of benches and tables with some scattered test tubes and petri dishes. I could see the differences in color between the faded work surfaces and the darker locations where centrifuges, sequencers, and who-knows-what used to sit. An elderly, but fit-looking woman was in the room. She was average height and had short, white hair. An aquamarine lab-coat covered her military jumpsuit. The coat had little, pink elephants dotted all over it. I chuckled and she gave me a warm smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes.
Fuck-head Colonel said to her, “Margie, thank you so much for waiting. This is the one I told you about. I want him cloned immediately after you set up the new factory.”
She replied with a weary smile, “They’ve taken all my stuff. What else do I have to do?”
Fuck-head smiled back and turned to me, “Please allow me to introduce you two. Jonny, this my head scientist, Dr. Marjory Mercy. She runs my little meat factory. Margie, this is Prince Jonathan, scion of the House of Harkon and heir to the Royal Throne of the Harkon Colony. I’m afraid that he has a pressing engagement with the AGP and will never get to be king. Perhaps in another life.”
The smile fell from Marjory’s face. “Colonel, do you understand that the Adult Genetic Printer is a failed experiment and that no one has survived the process? For now, we must continue with our accelerated growth reproductive cloning process! I do have several other experiments in process. If you like, I could prepare a briefing?”
“I understand, Margie. However this is a personal matter. I am quite aware of what will happen to His Highness. That is rather the point, my dear.”
“Very well,” she said, a bright smile returning to her face. “Just let me take a sample and you can have your fun. I’ll have the new line ready within a couple of weeks, after the factory is set-up. Please, let me know if you want that briefing. I’ve been doing the most fascinating research with micro-xenotransplantation. Do you think there is much of a market for centaurs? Or how about mermaids? We solved the intercourse problem by lowering the fishtail to mid-thigh…”
As she rambled on, she pulled a DNA sampler out of her pocket and grabbed my lower lip, pulling it down. She roughly shoved the sampler against the inside of my lip and then removed it. A sealed packet extruded from the bottom of the sampler. She gave me another big smile and said, “You’re all done, sweetie.” She grinned at the fuck-head and rushed out the door. Her lab-coat trailed behind her, the little pink elephants fluttering in the apparent wind.
Colonel Fuck-head had the same expression on his face that Baihu gets when she has eaten something forbidden, but really tasty. I was shaken. Things were spiraling out of my control. The Colonel’s strength and speed was daunting, and I had lost confidence that I could escape. He led us out of the lab and down another corridor. I followed along, searching for a chance, for anything that would turn it around. As usual, the two soldiers brought up the rear. Their perpetual sneers no longer amused me.
Once again pretending I was his honored guest, the Colonel continued to play tour guide. “My dear prince, I’m delighted to have this opportunity to show off my meat factory before its pyrrhic demise. This wing is dedicated to the intermediary stages of the accelerated cloning. We can’t just leave them in the growth tanks from blastocyst to meat doll. I wish we could! Ninety percent of the elapsed time is wasted hauling them out, stabilizing their hormonal balances, and then dropping them back in. We have to do it at least twice per meat doll. Three or four times, if we are cooking up more mature models: infancy, puberty, maturity, and menopause.”
He laughed at the incredulous look on my face as I contemplated the implications of the word “menopause.”
“Oh, don’t look so shocked, Jonny boy. Are you telling me you never thought about it? All little boys both adore and despise their mothers. Our granny-line does very well, and we do quite a few custom orders. Limited edition, of course,”
he snorted.
Previously, all of the rooms on this hall had been empty. But the one we were passing now had a bustle of activity inside. I could hear the sound of infants crying from the open door.
Colonel Leakey stopped and explained, “Because of you, we had to shutdown the factory. Our entire inventory of completed meat dolls is now packaged and loaded aboard my ship. Carla is waiting for me there as well. As soon as you and I are done here, I will join her, and we will leave Sanctity. I’m afraid the ship is not equipped to support active growth tanks, or a nursery. The incomplete merchandise must be abandoned.”
Perhaps reacting to my expression, he continued, “It’s all your fault. I’m not without compassion for the little things. I told the nursing staff that any who wish to remain on Sanctity may do so. Each may take as many infants as she can carry and wants to care for. Really, what more can I do?”
His pace picked up and he dropped the banter. We soon reached our destination - an empty, surgical theater. In the center of the room, like a gigantic spider with too-many legs, a robot hung above a gleaming, man-shaped table. Dozens of malevolent looking limbs reached towards the table with sharpened tools and needles. The predator-prey imagery was overwhelming. Every fiber of my body quivered with the need to flee.
Shivers went down my spine as one of the sneering soldiers prodded me in the back with his pistol. I reacted on instinct, all of my suppressed energy erupting as I violently spun about. My forearm knocked the pistol from his hand and my arm wrapped around his. My other hand grabbed his free arm and my head snapped forward, shattering his nose as I drew him toward me. My arms slipped around him in a bear hug while I drove my knee into his balls hard enough to crack his pelvis.
Holding him tightly, I spun towards the other soldier, barely avoiding getting shot. Instead, the pistol’s rounds hit the first guy, penetrating his body armor and torso, but thankfully not making it out the other side. My left hand found his pistol and I was trying to shoot his buddy with it when the Colonel got to me.
He placed his hand on mine and I dropped the pistol, no longer able to control my fingers. Invisible fire burned its way up my arm, consuming my senses. Then, so fast that it was over before I knew it was happening, he lifted me and slammed me onto the table. Restraints closed over my limbs, torso, and forehead. I strained against them, to no avail. My roar of defiance echoed down the halls as the spider’s legs began to descend.
Needles pierced my legs, arms, and neck. The pain was bad, but bearable. I could see the Colonel out of the corner of my eye. He was staring down at me with lust written across his face. He started to tell me about how the anesthetizing functions had to be disabled because they interfered with the process, and how no one had survived more than a half hour. He said, “I’m counting on your enhancements to keep you alive for longer than that, Jonny. Perhaps we will enjoy an entire hour together. After that, well, you will be dead. And I will have a ship to catch.”
The last thing I heard, before the pain really started, was him saying, “Don’t worry, the AGP works fine even after you’re dead. When the investigators find your ashes and other parts, the teeth and bits of charred bone that never burn all the way in a house fire, they will test them and believe you are me. You will be my exact, physical match, right down to the very last genetic marker.”
Then my skin began to bubble and I stopped being able to understand him. It hurt more than I can explain and it lasted for thousands of years! Or at least that is what it felt like. I don’t really know how long it lasted. I do know that Colonel Leakey left after an hour, disappointed that I was not yet dead. For the first time, the fuck-head and I were in total accordance. All I wanted was for the agony to end. Death sounded good.
Leakey left the last soldier guarding me. The soldier was to remain until either Harvey relieved him, or I died. But I wasn’t dying. My fantastic little army of nanobots had gone to war. No foreign DNA or unauthorized modifications allowed! So the spider kept pumping me full of stuff and my nanobots kept cleaning the stuff out. Meanwhile, my skin kept bubbling and the thousand years of pain forged on.
*******
Bells were ringing, but I couldn’t tell if they were inside or outside of my head. I likewise heard roaring and screaming, but couldn’t tell if it was my own voice. Suddenly, everything but the bells stopped. No more bubbling, no more agony, and no more screaming. I felt the restraints on the table release me, but I didn’t have the strength to move. A large, white head rose above the table and a huge, rough tongue rasped across my cheek. I began to weep.
We stayed that way for a long time while I caught my breath and regained my composure. Baihu kept chuffing, rubbing, and licking while she waited for me to recover. My nanobots did their magic and my skin started to feel normal. I became more and more aware of the incessant ringing bells. An alarm was going off in the building. It was a fire alarm; I could already smell smoke in the hall. I eased off the table, using Baihu to steady myself as we crossed the room. The last soldier was on the floor, head tilted at an unnatural angle, his snapped spinal cord visible through the bloody, gaping hole Baihu had left in his neck.
Smoke choked the empty hall, but I was able to see using thermal vision. I tried to ignore the clamor of the fire-alarm. Baihu turned right and loped down the corridor. Not the direction I had arrived from, but I was sure it was the fastest way out. But something the fuck-head said had stuck in my mind: “I’m afraid the ship is not equipped to support active growth tanks or a nursery. The infants have to be abandoned.” I couldn’t leave without checking. I called to Baihu, and then ran deeper into the building.
I turned a corner and ran face first smack into Harvey’s chest. Before I could react, his massive arms wrapped around me in a crushing bear hug. I felt a distinct sense of déjà vu. The going-limp trick didn’t fool him this time. He merely redoubled his effort. I tried to kick him and head butt him. It was useless. He was just too big. I tried to hook my legs around his and force him off balance. Again, useless. He tired of failing to crush me and decided to try using the walls. Baihu arrived after the third slam. Harvey let go, leaving me sliding down the wall, as he turned to take on Baihu. His super-sized shotgun appeared out of nowhere - perhaps it was strapped to his back. Baihu’s roar echoed in the room, followed immediately by the deep, throaty boom of the shotgun. But Harvey missed. Baihu was too fast. While Harvey’s finger was still tightening on the trigger, Baihu had leapt. Her arcing, white form seemed to flicker, vanishing on-and-off, and then reappearing completely as she impacted Harvey. Harvey fell backwards with a thud. Baihu was on top of him, her fangs wrapped around his neck.
“No, Baihu!” I yelled. “Stop!”
Baihu froze in place, growling her displeasure. I limped over to them and stared down at the giant. My hand absently stroked Baihu behind her ear. She stopped growling, but did not release his neck. Harvey stared back at me. His face was calm and his voice tranquil as he said, “Thith ith a good day to die.”
I granted him a thin smile and replied, “It doesn’t have to be.”
*******
The intermediary wing was already starting to catch fire when Baihu, Harvey, and I arrived. We rushed down the hall, avoiding the burning spots on the walls. The nursery’s door was open, and I could hear crying over the crackle of the flames. Part of me just couldn’t believe it! Who would just leave little babies to burn? What kind of heartless nurses worked here? From the look on Harvey’s face, I could tell that he was asking himself the same, stupid questions. Stupid, because we both knew the ugly answers. I was just grateful that, as it turned out, only seven infants were abandoned. The babies were inside little, clear boxes lined with bedding. The boxes were stacked up on a rack, with the label, “FMD: Carla Helene 0163-0169.” My heart skipped a beat, but I didn’t have any more time to think about it! I needed to figure out how two of us could carry seven infants through a burning building, fast.
The room had obviously been abandoned quickly. Lots of stuff was still
strewn about. I found a backpack with a nurse’s change of clothes. With the clothes dumped, it fit three, carefully-swaddled babies. I looked around for another bag, and sure enough, there was an emergency response kit. When emptied, it also fit three more babies. I put the backpack on my chest - forward-facing to protect the babies - and handed the kit-bag to Harvey. He cradled it in his big arms, a gentle softness transforming his rough features. I went to grab the last baby, but I was too late. Baihu had already taken her and was headed for the door. The infant was gently, but firmly wedged inside the great cat’s mouth. I ran to catch up as Baihu leapt across a line of flames blocking our exit.
It was a wild race through the building as pieces of burning ceiling rained down on us. Walls were collapsing, blocking our path. Gouts of flame shot out at us, minor explosions happening without warning. We followed Baihu. She seemed to have a sixth sense for avoiding the worst of it. The infants were crying, but I could barely hear them over the roar of the flames that were searing my flesh. Baihu’s coat was smoking when we finally cleared the death trap.
Out on the grounds, we turned back to watch as the entire structure folded in on itself. Sparks and ash exploded upwards into the sky and then showered back down, raining off the ceiling of the torus-shaped ring. We fell further back towards the hedge maze, away from the heat and the black cloud of grit. Before entering the maze, we checked the babies, confirming that all seven were fine. Harvey and my six were wailing away, proving that (at the very least) their lungs were still healthy. The infant in Baihu’s mouth was as happy as a clam. She was cooing and gurgling, grabbing at Baihu’s huge canine with her chubby, little hand. We did our best to calm the rest of them, but it was hopeless. Too bad we couldn’t just give them all to Baihu!
