“Absolutely, and when it’s accomplished in an hour or two, because there’s no stopping them now, the big problem they have will hit them right where it hurts. They don’t have a plan for what happens after they’ve kicked this government out. In a month, when it’s a good time to come back and use this as a safe harbour, I bet it’ll be controlled by a dictator, or maybe a few warring dictators. A great place to stop and trade, but you wouldn’t want to live here.”
“I’m sorry, I have no idea who you are, and we’ll get to that, but I have to ask: why did you help them?”
“The price was right, and I saw a way to do it that would put the fewest number of innocent people at risk. You saved the only innocent that was about to die because of our mission, actually. Thank you.”
A smiling waiter delivered a bowl of steaming hot udon noodles with vegetables and chicken. Spin looked from the noodles in front of her to him, a little confused. “Fresh broccoli, spring onions, shredded radish and chicken in chicken broth with udon. Madam ordered for you, would you like something to drink?”
“Um, water?” Spin answered. The waiter wasted no time in producing a self-cooling glass filled with clean water.
“Enjoy,” he said before returning to his other tables.
“Why am I here?” Spin asked. “I mean, I hate to be blunt, you seem nice – no – amazing, but I have to ask.”
Omira laughed and nodded. “You didn’t get access to a lot of information about your people, did you? The fabricants, or dolls as some people call us.”
“No,” Spin said. “I’m surprised the Countess let us learn anything, but she had to explain why we were treated differently from all the other slaves somehow, and she’s not particularly creative.”
“I’ve heard the Countess called many things, but uncreative is a new one. Well, I’ll get to the point. I’m an after image of who I was, a doll from the Celeste Line. Just like you are from the Aspen Line of dolls, my original existence was the Celeste Line, one whole generation before yours. There were thirty-five of us though, and we were made as life companions, so we didn’t have a mate like you do, but, wait, what’s wrong?”
Spin realized that whatever levity she had was gone, and Omira must have seen that. “I’m sorry, Larken was killed.”
Omira took her free hand, the other was half way to picking up chopsticks, and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how painful that is for you. We have a Nathan aboard who lost his mate two years ago, it’s always hard.”
“You have another doll crewmate?” Aspen asked.
“That’s what I was getting to,” Omira said. “Have some noodles, I’ll explain.”
Spin didn’t have to be told twice. There was something comforting about the woman’s confidence, and she hadn’t eaten in too long.
“I was a lucky one, when I was a fabrication, I was bonded to a wealthy man in Able’s Landing, deep in British Alliance territory. Some of my happiest memories were from the twenty years I spent as an adult with him. My line weren’t sold until we were pre-aged to sixteen standard years, and then we were chemically and mentally pre-set to fall in love with them. He introduced me to his family as his second wife, and within the first year there was nowhere else I’d rather be. He treated me with respect, and I believe he fell in love with me after a while, real love too. We were happy together for twenty years, his family even accepted me after a while, and then my expiration time came up. Twenty-one years to the day from my time of arrival in his living room. By then I was invaluable to him in business, I had watched some of his grandchildren grow and helped with their care, becoming a granny to five of them even though I didn’t look like a granny at all, and I was his life partner. I never felt like a slave, so I was lucky,” Omira said.
“It sounds like it,” Spin said around a mouthful of noodles.
“He spent a fortune secretly finding a group of researchers and former fabricators, people who made humans from scratch for a living, finding a way to transfer everything that was in that Celeste to an unlimited fabrication, me. They did it, and, without my original knowing, I was made and during some evening near the end, they scanned her in her sleep. There was only one problem. For some reason, when I woke up for the first time, I knew I wasn’t the original, and for the first year or so, I can’t be sure, I literally went mad because I couldn’t wrap my head around being a copy. I thought I was worthless at times, was sure I couldn’t live up to who Celeste was at others, and at other times I was unbelievably paranoid, I thought it was some kind of trick, and they’d drop me into a mulching unit any second.”
The mental image of Omira being chopped up and recycled made Spin choke a little.
“Sorry, bad wording, but you get my meaning,” Omira said. “Celeste’s owner, or more like life partner at that point let me see the footage of her passing. With his family around her treating her like one of their very own, she passed away, and he was devastated. My recovery began there, and before long we realized that I knew I should love him, but I didn’t. I had all of Celeste’s thoughts and memories, but I didn’t feel like her. He didn’t feel the same about me either, so he never revealed me to his family. I also had a fascination with Celeste’s origin, and the fabrications. With his level of access, I was able to find out about all the new models the companies were making – you and Larken included – and through Celeste’s memories of his friends outside of the British Alliance, where slavery was legal, I could recall how most dolls were treated. Many were like Celeste, companions to widows and widowers. More of them were slaves of every kind in high class society.”
“How did your master get away with having Celeste so long in British territory?” Spin asked.
“He had a fake history made for her, it was iron clad, and she didn’t look exactly like all the other Celeste Models. If you look me up using my original name, you’ll find I’m her daughter of record. Omira is a name I took later, when the big question came up. I was still in hiding when I asked him if I was free, if I could just leave. When I learned that the door was always open, I started preparing to go. A few months later I left, that was about eighteen years ago, and he’s gone now. His eldest daughter and son were killed when the virus hit an artificial intelligence piloting their shuttle. He passed away not long after.”
Spin could see Omira was still mourning her old master, regardless of which generation she was. “I’m sorry,” she told her.
“It’s the human way,” Omira said, flashing a smile. “But fabrications like you have another problem. Your clock is ticking, and you’re getting closer to accessing more of your potential all the time. That’s the curse of fabrications, we only get better with age, it’s part of the marketing. Smarter, endlessly healthy, and more attractive until the last three days, then you get sick and pass away gently. They designed dolls to die at their best so the idea of buying an adult replacement is natural, nearly irresistible for anyone with a little bit of a God complex. I know, I remember everything right up until the last week that Celeste lived through and I’m still trying to be as smart, as charming, and funny as she was. They took away my expiration date, but I think a little potential went away with it too. Genetics are a bitch to figure out when you’re building a human from scratch.”
“So you’re saying I’m only going to get better with time,” Spin said. “I’ve never heard that.”
“Most of your people haven’t, why would any master tell their slave that they’re getting cleverer? None of the fabrications on my crew knew that until I found them, and told them.”
“You have people like me on your crew?”
“Five limited editions now, about as rare as you are. We had six, she was an Aspen, she expired last week.”
Omira didn’t say that offhandedly, though she tried not to show how painful it was to say. Spin could see that the Aspen she lost meant a lot to her, that almost overshadowed another, more important realization. “Last week. All the Aspens were released within seven months of each
other.”
“I know, I think you might be the last, it’s likely. I’d get scanned, if I were you. Just in case you thought you had more time.”
“I thought I did,” Spin said, glad she got through most of her noodles before losing her appetite.
“You might, you could have six more months left. I have a scanner on my ship that could tell you for sure,” Omira said. “That’s one of the reasons why I had to meet you, Mitchel made it easy, otherwise I don’t know if I’d have time to invite you to join the crew of the Empress.”
“Your ship?” Spin asked. She’d heard of the Empress, it was known as a pirate ship, but she knew little beyond that. “I have friends who need to do something first.” The thought of joining another crew, leaving her friends behind and not punishing Captain White felt completely wrong. “I have to do something first, especially if I have less time than I thought left.”
“You have to make sure they’ll be all right,” Omira said. “I understand. They’d be welcome to join too, but our course is set from here. I can’t go into too much detail, but we’ll be freeing slaves this month. The payday from the job we just finished will keep us going for a while, so we’re going to be freeing a lot of people before we have to earn again.”
“I want to go with you,” Spin said. “I do, it sounds like the right thing to do with the rest of my life, but I owe the people I’m with. If it wasn’t for me, none of them would have been marked as slaves, and people they love wouldn’t have been killed.”
“What happens because of slavery is never the fault of the slave. It’s always the fault of the master,” Omira said.
“I know, but still,” Spin shrugged. “I can’t leave them, and I don’t think they’d want to abandon our plans.”
“I understand. I’ll leave you an ident number to call in case things change or if you’d like to call me for any reason. It’s been good meeting you, it was important to me that I did, and I’m not disappointed.”
“It was good meeting you too,” Spin replied, accepting the woman’s outstretched hand. It was gently held, not shaken. “Good luck.” Then a thought occurred to her. “Oh! I have information about Geist, and the whole manufacturing block there. The labs, the training facilities, everything.”
Omira was shocked. “What? Where did you get that?”
“The Countess is planning an expedition there, it was in the database and Larken had a copy of everything. I’ll give you her plans, the scouting data and the rest of the research on the mission.” She hurriedly brought the files together on the interface lighting up on her forearm and sent it to Omira’s device.
“I can’t believe this, it could be a while before we figure out how to use this information, but I know it’s going to help sometime. I’ll make sure no one knows who gave it to me.”
“No, make sure everyone knows who gave it to you,” Spin said. “If I’m not going to be around long, I’d like people to know Larken and I led people there so no one else could reopen the facilities.”
Omira smiled as she stood, Spin did the same and was embraced warmly by the woman. “You’re so special, Spin, thank you. The moment you change your mind about joining us, you call my ident. Even if you have two dozen people with you, we’ll make it work. You promise, okay?”
Spin was only half released from the embrace when she looked up at Omira. “I promise.” Then she saw a tear in Omira’s eye and understood. “You and the other Aspen were close.”
“I’ve never loved anyone more,” Omira whispered, trying her best to keep her composure. “She only saw me as a friend, but it was enough for me most of the time.”
Without hesitation, Spin pulled Omira close and held her tightly. “I’m sure she loved you too,” she whispered. They remained together for long enough for people to start staring, then to respectfully avert their eyes.
“Okay, we have to go,” Omira said. “We have about twenty minutes before Midtown goes to hell.”
“Thank you for everything,” Spin said.
“Thank you, Spin. We’ll see each other again.”
13
Sleep was difficult to find. Memories of Larken came to Spin the moment her head landed on the pillow. Those memories were surrounded by a coterie of emotions. Anger, sadness, regret, and other minor players chased sleep away. Worry wasn’t far behind, she had to get scanned and find out how much time she really had left.
How and when she finally got to sleep was uncertain, but eventually she drifted off and managed to catch a few hours. Spin would miss the bed in the luxury transport, its high level of comfort was probably the only reason she was able to sleep. A quick look at the display hovering over her arm told her that she had been asleep for nearly five hours, but it felt more like five minutes.
Her personal computer warned her that there was a crew meeting scheduled in twenty-five minutes and she rolled out of bed then walked straight to the shower. The water was perfect, one of the trademarks of a good luxury transport, and another thing Spin would miss in the future, she was sure. There was no way they could use the ship as a real home base. It had some armour, but not enough, and it was lightly armed at best – except for the missiles, but that was a small thing compared to the ships most crews used when they expected trouble. There was the problem of the thing being immediately identifiable by sight, it didn’t matter how many times she changed the transponder signal. Anyone who had been near one of the Countess’ transports would recognize it as one of hers immediately, it’s headless duck shape was a dead giveaway, even if it was painted, which would take time, something that she felt she had little of.
The shower stall switched to dryer mode, and vibrated the water off her skin while warm air blasted her body. It was time to face her fate, she decided. As soon as she was finished drying, she picked up the medical scanner she borrowed from the medical compartment on her way to bed the night before and pointed it at herself. It worked silently for a moment, then sent the results to the computer bonded with the skin on her left arm.
Her health was perfect. “Life expectancy?” she asked.
“Three months, nine days and approximately two hours,” it replied.
“What?” shrieked Mirra from the other side of the door.
Spin hurriedly got into her blue consuit, thankful for the smooth fabric, and that it had cleaned itself automatically. “Mirra, you can’t say anything,” she said as she got the lower half on and slit the hatch open. “I don’t want anyone to know.”
“What? Why?” Mirra asked. “We should try to find you help, see if there’s someone out there who knows how to fix this.”
“Listen,” Spin said. “I thought I had time for that, but now I know I have enough time to try to save myself, or to set my friends up so I know they’ll be in a good way when I’m gone. Do you understand? Everyone I care about is in danger right now, and it’s because of me.”
“No, not me,” Mirra said. “You saved me, you saved Della, so we’re already in better shape than we were before you met us. Everyone else on this ship seems to be able to take care of themselves, well, except for Nigel, but he has Sun and maybe even the Governor. You have to stop looking at yourself as a cause of burden.”
“Fine, I’ll work on that, but don’t tell anyone, at least not for now. We need to focus on getting a better ship, set up with a larger crew. Then, when we’re in a position of strength, I’ll tell them, okay?”
“Don’t wait too long,” Mirra said.
“You promise you’ll keep it a secret,” Spin said.
“I do, I promise.”
Spin sighed. “Why are you here, anyway?” she asked more light-heartedly.
“I was going to help you through your morning. You know, get you dressed, brushed and ready for your day.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Spin said, realizing that she hadn’t finished putting her suit on, so she resumed, slipping her arm into a sleeve.
“Don’t I?” Mirra said, helping her with the rest of her suit the
n closing the consuit most of the way up the front. “Besides, it’s a force of habit. Della’s kicked Nigel out of her cabin and is already helping our Captain.”
“What?” Spin asked as she slipped her foot into her boot with Della’s assistance.
“Oh yes, Della is absolutely not a lesbian. She didn’t signal one way or another the whole time we were serving together, but now that she’s free, apparently Nigel’s her type. I walked in on them last night.”
“I really thought you two might have found something.” The second boot went on and Mirra held up a brush, which Spin didn’t even see her pick up. “I can do that,” she said. Mirra put Spin in a chair, stuck a chocolate meal bar into her mouth and started brushing. Spin felt like she was ten years old all over again.
“I sort of hoped, but that ended in an awkward talk where Della explained how wonderful we fit together as friends. Then she suggested I consider dating the Governor.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Spin said around a mouthful of chocolate flavoured nutrient bar. “Unless you’re closer to the middle of the spectrum?”
“Well, I can appreciate a handsome man, but I don’t think I could love one that way. Now, if Sun were interested, I most definitely would. That’s a secret you can keep.”
“I will. So, Sun, really?” Spin asked.
“That porcelain skinned, dark haired goddess? Absolutely. Even if she wasn’t lovely, her confidence would draw me in. Why do you think I’m here taking care of you?”
“Oh, so if you have a crush on someone it’s inappropriate,” Spin said.
“Exactly. I can be friends and take care of you professionally without worrying. You remind me of an adorable woodland creature,” Mirra said.
“I am not a chipmunk, I am a human being,” Spin chuckled. It wasn’t the first time someone compared her to some small, cute mammal.
“You see my point, I don’t fall for ‘adorable’ so I’m a great fit for your helper, or carer, whatever.”
“You know; you don’t have to worry about having a place on the crew if you want one. It’s not a worry, you don’t even need to do any of this if you don’t want to.”
Cool Pursuit: Chaos Core Book 2 Page 10
