“Max, come over right now. I have Rose.” Leo was obviously excited about flowers. Max was always surprised at his client’s ever-changing, ever-ranging mundane interests.
“Mr. Songtain sir, I love roses. I would be delighted to come view your floral arrangements. I’ll be there immediately.”
“No, not roses; I have Rose, Rose Smoot, Roxanne’s co-pilot, and she likes me. I never had a pet. I think she likes me.”
Leo sounded happy. This was good because a happy client meant vouchers in the bank, meant maybe he could retire to Fiji sooner than expected. Then a more exciting thought came into Max’s tiny evil brain. Roxanne Smoot would be coming to Hong Kong to get her co-pilot back! He could activate his little sleeper project!
“That’s wonderful, Mr. Songtain. I’ll be right there, sir. I’m on the way to my limo as we speak. Shall I bring the stock reports?” Max was running to his lift, while signaling to his assistant to bring any files, and have his tunnel limo ready.
“What, oh yes those, bring them, I forgot about that.” Leo hung up before Max could even ask him which financial reports he would want to review. To Max, it was just another example of Leo’s misplaced obsession. Roxanne Smoot would always get in the way of their financial enhancements, unless Max could eliminate her.
As he rode his secure lift, he took out his private bot-com and contacted that source. “If Leo has Rose, Roxanne will be coming to Hong Kong, soon. And I know just who could be her welcoming committee,” Max whispered to himself as he punched in the code.
“Hello, this is Max; I’ll be calling in that deal we made. You’ll know when the target arrives. What, you want extra vouchers for the deal? I see, yes alright, I’ll deposit them tomorrow in that numbered account. And we can also arrange that acquisition you wanted. Just be sure you keep your part of our deal. I want that red haired bitch dead.” Max closed communication and hummed, Hush, Hush Sweet Charlotte for the rest of the ride.
Max was ecstatic. Roxanne Smoot was walking right into his trap. “I’m at the end of my patience. I mean really, Leo’s obsession for that red-haired rig-ryder cunt drives me crazy. We’ve lost significant economic enhancement deals because of her. And, that means money lost for me,” Max ranted, but in a whisper, as the lift reached the waiting limo.
“Leo always has to be sure of what Roxanne Smoot will do, what she thinks, what she reads. Crap, I even had to spend that evening with him last month reading Jane Eyre, all because it was Roxanne’s favorite novel. I hate Charlotte Bronte. Who wants to read something a preachers daughter wrote!”
Max walked to the limo, with the underling standing by the door, awaiting his orders. As he grabbed the files from his assistant, Max decided to also bring the files on nutria-blend, because with the CEO now dead, he owned a major share in that Inc. If he could get Leo to buy up the rest, THEY WOULD HAVE A NUTRIA-BLEND MONOPOLY!
20
MONOPOLY WAS NOT HER FAVORITE, but Roxanne and Eldridge were back in the kitchen of their home in bubble-stop #4, playing the game, and neither was winning. It was her rig haul down-time, but life seemed sad without Rose. They both missed Rose.
“Do you think she’ll be alright, Daddy?” Roxanne asked after her “do not pass go” move.
“I think Rose can take care of herself. Plus, you saw the vids from that track Dina palmed onto Leo’s hand. Rose was wolfing down real Kobe beef, for peetie sakes. I think we should let her suck up to Leo for a bit, increase here intake of iron. Plus, you know she has a bot-com tattoo inside her left ear. She’ll contact us when the need arises.”
“Has she contacted anyone yet?” Roxanne asked, sipping some sea brine tea.
“Dorian says he got a message to her to do some recon while she’s their guest. She said to tell you she’s evaluating the cuisine. She’ll be fine.” Eldridge got up to pour more coffee, the Kona left over from Chad’s visit, and clean up the dishes after their dinner of steamed eel on rice. It was a surprise gift from an unknown admirer; most likely it was Michael Segev.
Roxanne mentioned that to Michael, when she stayed with him at the love hotel; missing the lunch at the eel place after Gimlet got herself kidnapped. And Michael would probably think of eel and steamed rice as a romantic gift. Thinking of Michael made Roxanne smile, get off-track, and loose the next three Monopoly moves to Eldridge, who then won the game.
“I won, Roxie. Want to play again?” Eldridge was trying to take their minds off the missing Rose. They’d immediately commed Dorian about the situation and he’d set up an exit strategy for Rose. Unfortunately it would mean a brief visit by Roxanne to Leo’s Opus penthouse in Hong Kong, because the trip was not only to rescue Rose. Dorian called in a favor. Roxanne could not refuse.
“Did you contact my double in #5?” Roxanne asked her dad, as she got up to help with the cleanup. “You go back to the bar, Dad. Those robo bartenders are awfully expensive and you’ll need to pay for one for the next six days while you’re driving the rig. I can manage here. I’ll let you know if I hear anything more.”
“She’ll be arriving within the hour, Roxie. It’s all arranged. She’s coming in disguise of course. Otherwise she’ll cause the same scene you do when you walk into the bar. We don’t want any unnecessary attention for this plan to work. The Inc. has got to think that double is really you.”
“Okay Daddy, don’t worry; by the time I get through with her, she’ll be another Roxanne. And anyway, you can handle the rig all by yourself. You really only need her to fool the Inc. But, she’ll be just like me.”
“Not likely Roxie, but we’ll give it a try.” Eldridge left their quarters to return to his work behind the bar. Irma was busy in the back storage shed, looking for extra boots for Roxanne’s doppelganger.
They were, of course, referring to that individual who’d been facially modified that one time, as a Christmas present from Max to Leo Songtain. Leo sent her away when he realized she could not substitute for the real deal. She was supposed to be sent back to the party tunnel near Roppongi. But by chance, she was picked up by Dina on one of her rebel away missions, and taken for hiding into #5, for possible future use by the rebels.
Dina was always thinking about rebel contingency plans. Doubles could always come in handy. And this time a Roxanne Smoot double would be absolutely required to keep up the façade of those normal rig hauls, while the real Roxanne retrieved Rose from Leo, and did that other secret thing for Dorian. Roxanne would not be able to take time off from the Inc., so the double would fill in. But she might need to study with the real deal for a few days, to pick up the essentials, like that special way Roxanne moved her hips. If they showed that on international vid-com, the entire male population of the planet would have stiff willies.
The ID stuff would be a cinch. Dorian had already gotten some fake IDs and a fake rig-ryder license. She would ride with Eldridge; would take Roxanne’s place on the rig hauls, but with Eldridge doing the actual driving, of course. Roxie-II agreed, with one condition; after her rig haul stent was completed, Dorian would set her up for life as an organic farmer in the New Zealand Free Zone. She’d always fancied living in New Zealand.
In return, Roxie-II would drive with Eldridge (no small thing given the security ID issues) for six days, while the real Roxanne did her least favorite thing in the world; she would make a personal visit to the Leo Songtain. Once Rose was back safely in the rig tunnel, and once Roxanne did that thing for Dorian, she could take care of herself. With Dorian’s help she’d find some escape route, and Roxie-II would be on her way to an organic farming career.
Roxanne did not tell Eldridge the nature of that favor; that Dorian asked her to steal Leo’s Stem-wads® formula. He’d made a promise to Dina to be sure that Gimlet was financially set for life. Leo’s formula would go on the Blacks for enough to keep Gimlet and Chad, the citizens of bubble-stop #5, and the entire Yac clan in supplies and food, maybe forever; it would bring more blackmail chits from Leo than anything they could ever make working in any place. And well, with conditions
the way they were in all the Incs, everyone needed all the help they good steal. Of course, they’d have to split the proceeds with the non-Yac citizens of #5 to ensure their future safety; otherwise they may not stay welcomed in their new home.
“She’s here, Roxanne,” Irma announced as she stepped into the kitchen from the back yard, with a bundle of clothes in her hands.
A tall and very stunning, dark haired women stood behind Irma, towering over her at six feet tall. She did not look exactly like Roxanne; had obviously changed her hair color, did not have an orchid bot-com tattoo, and well, she was not Roxanne Smoot. That much was evident. Plus, her facial implants had started to form. But in another 12 hours she would revert back to looking like Roxanne’s twin; enough to pass the vid inspection at the rig-ryder check-in stations. Drone checks were another matter. She’d have to carry a vial of the real Roxanne’s DNA for that. But other than the cosmetics, Roxie-II had been permanently modified for that Christmas gift to Leo; she was a Roxanne Smoot twin.
“Hi, come in. Thank you for agreeing to do this. Leo is not someone I’d ever want to visit, but I have to for Rose’s sake. Thanks for taking my rig hauls. I owe you forever. And, it’s really weird looking at a twin, by the way.” Roxanne got up from her chair at the table and went over to greet her sub.
“I know what you mean. I was Leo’s property for three weeks that one time, as Max’s Christmas present. I thought it would be a kick. I mean, Max picked me at an auction; he told me I could live with an extremely wealthy man by just acting like you. I watched vids of you for weeks before he sent me, practiced your walk; I even learned how to use a whip. But Leo just really has this obsession for you. It was kind of sad, really.” Roxie-II entered the kitchen and sat down next to Irma at the table. Irma had already poured her some coffee. Roxie-II even sipped her Kona exactly like Roxanne; it was uncanny.
“Would you like something to eat, Roxie? Should I call you Roxie? I mean you aren’t Roxanne so I thought it would be less confusing. I have the hair dye and clothes ready for you. They’re from that batch of worn out ones you left for trade last week, Roxanne.” Irma got up to ladle out some soup for their guest.
“Thanks, yes I’m starved. I rode twin on a hoverbike all the way from bubble-stop #5. We took the side lanes and used nitro all the way. The guy who drove me was some crazy freak, I can tell you that. He drove like a Beer Sheva banshee.” Roxie-II helped herself to the soup, some flat bread, and gulped real coffee, something unheard of in #5, at least until you reached that back zone, but that was mostly chai latte.
“Did you get the driver’s name? I don’t know many hover-biker transporters from #5, but maybe I know this one. Would he like to stay for dinner?” Roxanne checked out the clothes and boots to be sure they were presentable, especially the orange Inc. uniform. If Roxie-II was traveling as a rig-ryder, she’d have to look the part.
“He left right after he dropped me off; he was not much of a talker, really. He didn’t strike me as the house guest type, if you know what I mean. He said his name was Michael something.” Roxanne froze her cup of coffee in mid-drink mode.
“Was it Michael Segev?” she asked as nonchalantly as she could, getting ready to run outside. Maybe she could catch him before he left.
“Yeah, that’s his name. Do you know him? Don’t bother to look, he’s gone. He was gone before I even got to your back door. Is he always in such a hurry? I mean he must be hungry. Why wouldn’t he want to come in and get something to eat?” Roxie-II asked.
“I don’t know him personally, but I know of him. Anyway, I just wanted to see if he wanted some food,” Roxanne lied, and turned her back, facing the dirty dishes, to hide her disappointment. She rarely got a chance to see Michael Segev on her own time. He usually just mysteriously showed up where she was, like the night before last, at the love hotel in Tokyo. Roxanne guessed he must follow her on his bot-com. But anyway, he was gone, and she had to stay on track for her Rose rescue mission…and to steal the Stem-wads® formula for Dorian.
“Well, let’s get you all dressed up and ready, shall we?” Irma stood at the bathroom door, hair dye in one hand, with an orange Inc. jumpsuit over her arm.
“Sounds good to me; I always wanted to see how I’d look in one of your rig-ryder uniforms, Roxanne. It’s weird to actually meet you. I can see Max missed a lot when he was trying to teach me to be you,” Roxie-II said, as she followed Irma into Roxanne’s bathroom.
While Roxie-II was getting her hair dyed fire red, and her fingernails and toenails painted the Roxanne Smoot signature velvet black, the real Roxanne got out the two Morenci blue and jade green contact lenses sent by Dorian, several vials of her DNA for the drone security checks, and a fake tattoo kit. Because the temporary facial stem cell plant would finally dissolve in 6-12 hours, Roxie-II would look exactly like her and have the two-toned eyes and red hair before arrival in Tokyo. That way, by the time they reached the Tokyo docks, she would only have to wash the residual cells from her face to look like the real Roxanne.
Once in Tokyo, it would be easy for Roxie-II to use the fake Roxanne Smoot ID tags and DNA samples to ride with Eldridge on the haul for six days. The Inc. would never know a thing. Once the rig was set to off and docked, Roxanne would fade away out of the Tokyo rig tunnel and catch the hover jet to Hong Kong, wearing a disguise. Leo would be notified once she arrived in Hong Kong stop #7, the end of the haul.
“Should I change her fingernails and toe nails, too?” Irma poked her head around the open bathroom door.
“Sure, the polish is in the top drawer. Use the black one. Do you want to draw the orchid tattoo, or should I? I’m not a tattoo artist, Irma.” Roxanne knew Irma had worked doing tattoos in the party tunnel before Max grabbed her.
“Make me a rubbing; I can copy it,” Irma replied.
After an hour, Roxie-II stepped from the bathroom looking exactly like Roxanne; well, except for the face, which was already starting to slightly melt. Roxanne thought Leo should invent a better temporary facial Stem-wads® product, one that didn’t melt into zombie goo when terminated. Maybe she would suggest it to him on her little visit to the Opus. Suddenly, the thought of staying with Leo in his penthouse gave her indigestion.
“You look great! But we’ll have to take you to the rig by the back entrance so no one will notice that melting face thing. Oh, Irma, you did a fantastic job on the tattoo. Wow, you’re a real artist. Maybe you should set up a side-line here in #4. You could do tattoos on the rig-ryders during their down time. Talk to Eldridge about it; we could always use the extra chits.” Roxanne was sorry as soon as she’s said it. Irma was sensitive to her place with Eldridge, sometimes thinking she was a burden.
Eldridge on his part looked at least ten years younger since her arrival, especially after she took up residence in his bedroom. They were talking about a Christmas wedding, and Roxanne was so happy for them both. Irma wanted Roxanne to be her bridesmaid.
“I’ll be sure to bring that up, Roxanne. I’m glad you liked it.” Irma was happy for the compliment; not feeling slighted, and was glad to have an opportunity to do her part.
“Ugh, I just noticed my face. Wow, melting temp facials are really horrifying, worse than the back-line folks in #5, you know the un…” Roxie-II did not finish.
“Don’t say it!” Irma almost screamed from the bathroom where she was cleaning up the hair dye. Roxie-II just looked at Roxanne, perplexed. She held her freshly manicured black painted fingernails up to dry, with a quizzical look on her melting face.
Roxanne just shrugged her shoulders and tilted her head towards the door, checking her palm watch while downing her fifth cup of coffee. She grabbed a bag of food balls and said,
“I’ll explain it on the way. We gotta go. Re-track time starts in ten minutes, and Dad will want to go over some things with you. Let’s get hauling!”
Roxanne bolted out the door with Roxie-II close behind, waving goodbye to Irma, who was already thinking about starting her tattoo business in bubble
-stop #4. By the time they got to the rig, Eldridge was already in the pilot seat, had the rig checked, and was ready for re-track protocol. He was after all, a master level III. Roxanne was on her way to the Opus, and Leo Songtain.
But in his Opus penthouse in Hong Kong, Leo Songtain was screaming at his house staff. He was dancing around on his perfect tiny little white feet doing what the staff called his prancing pansy routine, behind his back of course. He’d just sent a very happy but impatient Max off, once they’d finished a quick run-over of the day’s economic enhancement strategy. He told Max, yes, to the monopoly on Nutria-blend, Inc., but nixed the acquisition of a custom Ferrari race track on the outskirts of Hong Kong. In a grand gesture of charity, Leo told Max to take those track stocks for himself; he could use them to build his retirement.
Max left humming some weird pirate song, “Ho, Ho, Ho, or something like that; he sang off-key.
Leo was in his outer penthouse office, sitting behind his Koa wood desk, in his red silk day robe. Rose reclined on her private satin bed in the corner of Leo’s inner living room, in front of a wall sized screen, watching vids of the most beautiful dogs in the world contest. Next to her were three silver platters containing Iberian ham, ice cold purified water, and more raw Kobe beef.
Rose already knew Roxanne was coming for her. Dorian just told her most everything about the plan, through the bot-com tattoo on her ear. Rose would miss the food. Job food was nothing like this. But it was usually calmer. From the outer rooms, she could hear Leo screaming,
“I need an orchid tattoo! Get me the best in the business, now. I want this place cleaned from top to bottom, and take that Roxanne bounty poster off the ceiling. I don’t want her seeing it. What kind of flowers does she like? What are her favorite foods? What does she like to wear? What does she do for hobbies? What’s her favorite color? Find out, now! Paint the whole place in her favorite colors.
Oh, and get me all the Charlotte Bronte books, and ten copies of Jane Eyre. No, find me the original!”
Gene Drifters: The Clone Soldier Chronicles-Book III Page 20
