Small tentacles dismantled the final pieces of the armour, leaving Joshua exposed.
He stumbled out of the Armour Centre and collapsed to his knees—thoughts darting, eyes watering, his chest heaving, while drool pooled on the carpet. He twitched off another panic attack on his living room floor, merely glad this one was vomit free.
Beer! Beer! Beer!
Joshua crawled to the kitchen, leaving spittle behind like a slug. He used the fridge handle to stand and punched the beer dispenser. Holding his beer aloft, a silhouette glistened on the fridge. He turned around, ‘Miku?’
Silent bullets tore through his body, and he crumbled to the floor, soaked in blood and foam. Joshua drifted from consciousness and it did not seem to bother him.
#
Either from great luck or misfortune Joshua regained consciousness. He was in horrid pain. It seared his entire torso. His throat was dry, as if he had repeatedly swallowed sandpaper. It took a valiant effort to force his voice out. When it sounded, its timbre was that of a mutant croak.
Upon opening his eyes, he saw only black, and then realised he was suffocating. He wriggled hysterically within his plastic coffin. He could hear voices, and furthered his efforts, squirming his aching body with all his might.
Finally, a knife pierced the plastic wrapping, and Joshua gulped oxygen. A hole was cut around his face. ‘Holy Earth Mother!’ a man said. ‘This one is alive!’
‘Get him out!’ a woman screamed.
‘I’m working on it, I’m working on it,’ the aged man grumbled.
After slicing the bag open, he beheld Joshua’s naked body with disgust. ‘Rough night? You know with all this illegal cloning going on you’re not the first. Incompetence knows no bounds! These hitmen are so quick to rid themselves of the body, they don’t care if you’re alive or not. You must be the fifth one this week! The church might as well make spousal clone replacement legal. Better than all this back alley black market crap!’
Joshua grunted, and smiled meekly. ‘Water, doctor, medicine,’ he rasped. He tried to get up but tumbled off the conveyor belt. Lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, his senses told him where he was. It was extremely hot, even though he was stripped, and he could smell corpses on the roast. Crematorium, only I could have the crappy luck to wake up here. ‘Water,’ he rasped again.
‘Of course, young man! My apologies. You stay right there, I’ll let the hospital know we have another back from the dead.’
Joshua watched the ceiling slowly fade.
#
Joshua awoke again, and no longer inhaled smog and charred flesh. ‘Kirill!’ he screamed and shot upright. His voice came out clear and hydrated. There were no jolts of pain. He was healed. He jumped out of the bed and grabbed some hospital robes.
Bolting up and down the hospital corridors, he happened upon an elevator and wedged his bulky body between the closing doors. The elevator beeped and opened again.
An alarmed patient eyed Joshua from the elevator’s confines.
Joshua looked first to the illuminated ground floor button, then to the alarmed patient. ‘Where am I? What time and day is it?’
The patient returned a blank expression.
‘Well?’ Joshua yelled, flinging his arms in the air.
Intimidated, the man quickly stammered an answer. ‘You’re at The Body Mechanics. It’s in the northern parts of the Central City Cube... quite close to the northern outskirts really.’
‘Time and day?’
‘It’s morning now, eleven o’clock I think,’ the man paused in thought, ‘it’s a Thursday.’
Shit... four days. The elevator door slid open and Joshua hurtled towards the reception table. ‘Phone, phone, I need to use your phone!’
‘Please calm down sir. I see you have healed well.’ An aloof receptionist regarded Joshua plainly. ‘Let’s just check you out, and then you can use the-’
‘Give me the fucking phone.’
The receptionist froze. Joshua’s passive aggression was more unsettling than his yelling.
‘Suit yourself,’ he said and propped his stomach on the receptionist’s counter, rummaging freely through the items on her desk. He found a wireless headset and dialled his apartment. The receptionist began to shrill for security while Joshua listened to the phone ring.
‘For Earth Mother’s sake!’ he tossed the wireless set and it accidentally smacked the receptionist in the face. Two security guards arrived on the scene, but Joshua disabled them. The first received a vicious stomp to the knee. The second walked carelessly into a guillotine choke.
Utterly unfazed Joshua stepped out into the bright artificial light of Paragonia’s Dome. He blinked the light away and adjusted his eyes, searching for a hovertaxi. He ran to the first one he saw.
‘I need to get to the Central City Cube living quarters—Section E. Now!’
Lazy-eyed, the taxi-driver looked him up and down. ‘Sure you don’t want to go back and change first?’
Joshua looked down at the hospital robes he wore, and then looked back up the inane smile on taxi-driver’s face. ‘No.’
‘Well... in the outskirts that would probably be considered fashionable,’ the driver said. ‘Are you an outskirts man? A weirdo?’
‘Do you want me to rip your tongue out?’
‘I suppose even now we can’t fix a funny bone. Hop in.’
The silent journey took no longer than ten minutes. Joshua leapt out of the hovertaxi before it came to a stop and barged into his apartment block. Almost instantly he was up the elevator and whispering to his apartment door’s microphone.
He took a deep breath and tiptoed around the Armour Centre.
His brain was overrun with tragic outcomes for his wife and child. He did not know who or what was after him yet, or even what they wanted. He passed through the kitchen and exhaled coolly on reaching the dining room. Quietly, he opened a compartment which held his knife collection. He slid his fingers along them, as if stroking a woman’s thigh. He selected a small curved blade. Briefly his mind darted between the knife and the Armour Centre, before settling on the silent option.
He crept back through the apartment. First was Kirill’s room, and to Joshua’s surprise his toddler was sound asleep in his crib. He felt an amalgam of relief and disappointment at the sight. He moved towards his bedroom and gripped his blade tighter. He could hear Miku screaming.
A soul draining tableau awaited him. Joshua’s mind rejected it at first, and then rolled through phases. Astonishment. Sadness. Rage. Joshua’s vision flickered like a broken street light, as his monster tore free from its bonds. Expletives fled from his mouth, and he was upon them.
He was throwing Miku off the bed. He was at her throat with the blade. He was yanked away. He was disarmed. He was punching another man. They were wrestling. He tasted blood on his tongue. He was thrown against the wall.
He sobered slightly when he absorbed the face of the antagonist. It was his own. The same brown complexion, black eyes, clean scalp, sallow cheeks; he gawked at himself in curiosity.
‘Who the hell are you?’ his mirror bellowed in a stolen voice. ‘Who ordered this?’ The fake asked all the questions that ran through Joshua’s head. ‘You’re an EMO clone. A really good one,’ the clone mused.
Joshua watched himself walk over to the gun drawer. The clone fingered the touch pad.
MK 58 KI 67 LL—shit!
Joshua leapt to his feet and tackled his replica to the floor. He mounted it and began punching fiercely, seeking a quick knockout. The clone barely defended itself yet remained conscious. In an abnormal show of strength, the clone pumped its hips and Joshua flew upwards before crashing to the floor.
They looked at each other sharing the same lack of understanding. Joshua was highly trained and even those who matched his weight struggled to get him off once he’d locked a mount—let alone sent him flying. A part of him knew what was happening, but soon they were at each other’s throats again.
“The EMO
cloning process... side effects include the inheritance of EMO abilities. One of the many reasons cloning may only be sanctioned by the Church.”
Joshua wrestled onwards in vain.
Miku sat in the corner, bleeding from the nose and cuddling her shoulders. She breathed heavily and considered running away, but surely the ghost would obsessively track her down, as was his nature.
She considered joining the fight, but also knew the clone needed no help. She’d been warned about the possible side effects but had not envisioned a scenario where they might actually manifest. The real Joshua did not stand a chance without his suit. It made her sick to think but she knew it. The outcome of this would likely be in her favour.
Trapped in a clench, Joshua strained to overpower his replica. Its strength was first an inkling above his, but rapidly mutated, over and above. He flew across the room, bounced off the wall, and heaved on the floor, eyeing the clone. They shared an intimate moment of cruel understanding.
It’s going to fucking kill me.
It was time for a great escape. First, he made for the Armour Centre, slamming the entrance button in vain. The Armour Centre did not share his panic. Joshua fled out the apartment and leapt into the nearest elevator.
The clone ran at him as the elevator doors closed. Joshua lifted his middle finger—an old Earth profanity he loved despite it being archaic. The elevator doors indented with fist and elbow blows.
Fast, must be fast. It’ll alert Earth Mother Knight Headquarters. I have to get to my armour first. I have to beat the bastard! But also—also I need to figure out who the mastermind is. Which asshole thought it would be a funny to clone and kill me? They’ll pay a debt to me in entrails... I’ll yank their body down the hover-highway... I’ll-
‘What happened to you?’ Joshua’s moody contemplation was interrupted by the taxi-driver. ‘Got into a bit of a scuffle I see.’
‘Why are you still here?’ Joshua sighed irritably.
‘You forgot to pay. And since you wouldn’t go back and change back at the hospital, I figured you’re a weirdo. I didn’t really think you lived here anyway, so I waited.’
Joshua massaged his temples, and begrudgingly climbed back into the hovertaxi. ‘Take me to Earth Mother HQ. The Church will pay you when we get there.’
‘Do you really think I’m going to fall for that? You outskirt types think you’re so smart. I’m taking you to the closest Police Station. They’ll take you to Earth Mother HQ for sure.’
‘Why would I-,’ Joshua stopped. ‘Fine.’
The taxi-driver looked chuffed with himself and began to ascend.
Joshua reached forward and started fiddling on the hovertaxi’s console. An identity card popped up on the screen. ‘Have you ever heard of this guy?’
‘Joshua Shepard? Well of course. Best bounty hunt—I mean Earth Mother Knight in the business.’
Joshua waited, but evidently his recent adventures had left him no longer resembling his ID photo. He placed his thumb on the console’s scanner. The console bleeped affirmation.
‘So, you’re the famous Shepard hey? Interesting name for a black man. Shepard. On Earth they would have said you inherited your slave name. Shepard would probably be European...’
‘Is that supposed to be some kind of insult? What’s a black man? I’m just a man. Black is a colour.’
‘Wrong holy man! It’s a race you fool! Or at least it used to be. I’d expect a man of your stature to know better. It’s that church of yours, completely uninterested in actual Earth history. Things like race, ethnicity, nationalism. You kids just wake up one day and think, ‘ohh I think I’ll call myself Mandela or something.’ You’re not even Xhosa! You don’t even know where South Africa used to be on the map. Point it out to me? Do you know what a continent is? No, you don’t.
‘It’s all Earth Mother this, Earth Mother that! I’ve cleansed my soul in petals! Save me Earth Mother! Save me from all the amazing technology that’s ruining my life! Do you have any idea what a shithole Earth was? I’ve read about it and let me tell you those people lived like animals. Disgusting really. I much prefer this artificial stuff. Safer, lasts longer. You don’t get Tsunamis because of farting cattle. Do you even know what a cow is?’
‘Do you ever shut up?’
The driver sighed. ‘Fine,’ he grumbled under his breath. ‘Keep following that stupid religion of yours. They don’t teach real Earth history. It’s the Dark Ages all over again...’
‘What’s that?’ Joshua snapped.
‘Nothing. Nothing at all...’
The taxi-driver moped silently for the rest of the trip.
On arrival at Earth Mother Headquarters Joshua fixed his demeanour, turned on his confidence. He walked through the security checks calmly. To the Earth Mother Church fraternity, he was a celebrity, hero, and role model. Joshua Shepard: the ultimate EMO tracker and killer.
The Emotion Manipulating Organisms (EMOs) were born on Earth in ages Joshua could not begin to fathom. He always recalled what his father (a renowned priest and Earth Mother historian) had told him:
“They are evil. They abuse the emotions of those around them for their own wicked ends. They destroyed the Earth Mother. That is why they are banned from the colony... that is why we hunt and kill them like the pests they are. That is why we use their own unholy power to banish them to Desolate Earth... The Barrens. Ancient pagans called it Hell; a place of infernos. If only... they had yet to realise that the scorched earth far surpassed the conflagration.”
Joshua snapped out of his daydream as he was greeted endlessly. He maintained his cool, nodding back assertively. He exhaled anxiously on reaching the change rooms, opened his locker, and pulled on his bodysuit. He then entered the Armour Centre, and the tiny tentacles went to work on him.
‘Hello Joshua,’ Mohini said. ‘I thought you had taken leave to deal with issues at home.’
Well... I sorted them out.
‘It does not appear so. Your emotional state has diminished since we last spoke. Did you visit the therapist I recommended to you?’
Not yet.
‘Please do so. What are we doing today? Since you requested sabbatical The Earth Mother Church has no assignments for you.’
I have a special assignment. Off the books... you know how it is. I’ll be operating independently. You can switch off my position monitors. The church doesn’t want any record of this, so stop recording our conversations too.
‘I understand. Your suit attachment is complete. I will disconnect from Headquarters now... Alright. It’s just you and me now. Shall we begin?’
Yes... Yes, we shall.
#
The real Joshua had created a ruckus. Kirill had been almost impossible and calming him had taken their combined efforts. The clone took time to carefully comfort Miku after they had managed to get Kirill to sleep. He did everything correct to her specifications. Once his biological programming assured him Miku’s trauma was subsiding, he contacted Earth Mother Knight Headquarters.
‘You guys need to be on alert. My home was attacked... somebody made an illegal EMO clone of me. It came here; it thinks it’s me. It will probably head there next. Don’t let it in. Don’t let it near the armoury!’
‘Give me a moment here.’ There was a pause. ‘Not good, not good,’ the assistant said. ‘You warned us too late... someone was here already. He... it... whatever... took your suit. And he’s gone offline, so we can’t track him. What do you want to do? We can send out a team immediately. I wouldn’t worry too much—the clone should short-circuit the suit eventually. Once its emotional state starts causing abnormalities, levitation, increased muscle mass, or that kind of thing, your AI should pick it up. Mohini also has a mapping of your average emotional range, so if the clone accidentally siphons emotions from others, she’ll know.’
‘Leave the team. I’ll get it myself. But I do want to know who did this, so send me any information on recent cloning and clients—Church sanctioned or otherwise.’
Miku cringed as she entered the room, knowing it was her everyone was looking for. She needed a plan. It was only a matter of time really; she never counted on Joshua surviving, and now that they had seen each other one of them was bound to figure it out.
‘Hey Joshua,’ Miku racked her brain. She knew choices were limited. She would have to trust him. She would also have to trust the tweaks she made. ‘Joshua... or I’m not even sure if I should call you that. I need to tell you something.’
She spilled her guts. While at the Cloning Clinic she had felt she could not sink any lower. But now, with every word she uttered, she could feel her descent. Further and further, into the beyond. She had not known she stowed this adaptability within. Is a capacity for misdeeds still considered self-improvement?
Either way she couldn’t make any more mistakes, as they could fall on Kirill’s head. She had to keep him oblivious. She might have been doing Kirill a favour in fact, as Joshua had never been mentally stable. That whole thing about the sins of the Earth Dwellers she supposed...
#
The day was progressing to afternoon as Joshua stormed out of another illegal Cloning Clinic. He turned his visor-cleaner on for the blood streaked across his view, and began a sprint, matching the speeds of the hovercars around him.
‘Where are we going?’ Mohini asked.
We’re heading to the last clinic. Increase Ferang please.
‘Joshua, systems indicate that you are above acceptable dosage levels. As I have mentioned before, this is a habitual problem with you. Overdose is the reason your comedowns are so severe.’
Do you really believe all that stuff Mohini? I mean, you’re the expert, but I’m with the other knights all the time. They all come down hard, and I’m sure they’re all overdosing. Honestly the church isn’t big on mental health as much as they pretend to be...
‘I acknowledge these facts Joshua, but my job is to care for your mental health, not the other knights or The Earth Mother Church. As my coding allows, I will comply and increase your dose, but I will never cease to keep warning you.’
Yeah, I love you too, Joshua laughed.
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