by Kevin Gordon
three other generals, and they reminded her of her Coss. They had the same strength, intelligence, and honor about them. But more than her Coss, her mind stayed on Suld. He had only been gone two roas, but she missed him terribly.
I hope he will be alright. He means too much to this cause, and to me.
Theia was genuinely surprised at the preparedness of OLMAC for war. When she was a young child, she watched the silly commercials for Denbo, the dry body soap, or Ileveit, the new brand of gene-hancements. The innocuous ditties that came with those commercials still flitted in her head, and because of it, she never had much respect for Suld or for OLMAC. She thought of them as greedy and materialistic, interested in selling everything and anything to the most people. She never thought about where all the lottment went. Now she knew. The machines of war seemed to be everywhere, intermixed with the eternal lightness of the city. Ruggert gleaned a few of her thoughts.
^It is hard to believe, isn’t it?^ he asked, with a wide smile. ^I hummed along with those ads too when I was a child.^
Theia laughed. ^I had almost forgotten about them! They were a symbol of a simpler time in my life, before the way of the Iganinagi took hold of me. I remember when Trustenme was all the rage, the virt-game every child wanted when they first received their implant. Wasn’t it the highest selling virt-game, ever?^
^Yup. A product that doesn’t exist in physical form, never sold through a physical store, never physically seen, bought all this,^ his small hand swept across all the machines behind him, ^and much more.^
Theia thought on his words. And people called us evil.
Ruggert led her deep into the bowels of the facility, descending for what seemed like an eternity on one of the lifts, casting on the various aspects of life on Gan-Elldon, from the current trends, to his wife’s favorite foods. Theia wanted too badly to be successful in her new duties in OLMAC, so she kept her mind null and politely nest all he cast. Then something suddenly connected in Theia’s mind.
^You cast that you have near a hundred thousand fighters?^
^Yes,^ replied Ruggert.
^But you also cast that you have about fifty-thousand soldiers.^
^Yes.^
^How will you fly that many fighters? Do you trust them to meta, or to a computer?^
^No. That is why I have brought you down here.^ The doors to the lift opened, and suddenly Theia understood. Before her, in immense walls laden with tubes, appeared to be at least two hundred thousand bio-pods.
^Clones?^
^Yes, Theia.^
^I thought clones were only for the TELREC, or as playthings for the elite on Topside?^ She scanned the space, amazed at the sheer quantity she saw before her. ^You must have been doing this for centuries.^
^There was always a tacit agreement,^ he replied. ^Suld never went to Malhrer, and the TELREC never came here. What you see is the product of two thousand cas of genetic engineering. We have created four types of clones: one with expertise in manually piloting a craft at high speeds, one with immense physical strength and mental resistance for hand to hand fighting, one with elaborate tactical skill, bred to command dromons and their crews, and another to sexually service and motivate the other three.^
Theia stepped forward, looking onto the abyss of clones, seeing thousands of identical faces peer back at her from inside glass enclosures. Their bodies were a pale white—to Theia they seemed almost the color of death. She had seen a few clones in her time; some used by the TELREC for surveillance, others for physical combat. They were all soulless to her, their eyes dead, but their bodies extremely lethal. To be killed by a clone is worse than being killed by a meta. It was as though you were being killed by the dead. She saw the four types were segregated into different sections, the males and females split as well. There were three types of male clones, only one female clone, obviously to service the males. Seems to play on that old Iquitian stereotype—men do the hard work, women are for recreation. I should cast to Suld about that.
She descended the wide ramps leading down to the floor of the facility, a thick mist enveloping her as she reached the bottom. It was cold, and the water-vapor tasted foul, like the excretion of countless bodies. She walked up to one of the clones hung in its mechanical sac, filled with a thick fluid. It rolled its eyes to her, with a gaze that betrayed no awareness, no cognizance. It reminded her for a moment of the Novans hooked to the cast-net, going through life on autopilot. It was a strong male body, its muscles being worked by robotic limbs as she watched, its arms being jerked suddenly up, then down, its legs manipulated in simulation of a fast run. Ruggert came next to her.
^We have it down to a science now,^ he cast, pridefully running his hand along the enclosing sac. ^When this clone emerges, it will be completely battle-ready. Once clothed, it will be ready to fight! We have hundreds of smaller clone banks on mining ships, ready to command and fly our fighters. We can either control them mentally through a controller, or have them function independently. They are a formidable fighting force.^
^I believe it,^ she cast with some scorn.
General Ruggert folded his arms over his chest. ^You don’t approve?^
^It doesn’t seem like something Suld would approve of.^
^While you have spent much time with our Mechle, there is still much you don’t know about him,^ cast Ruggert gently. ^Suld would rather use clones in battle, rather suffer their deaths, than those of the people he cherishes. These clones are not like those the TELREC possesses. We implant memories in them, memories of time spent on Gan-Elldon, memories that make them fight harder, and longer, as if it were something personal they were fighting for. They are implanted with the knowledge that they are clones—clones of a master soldier, an amalgam of men and women who were capable of terrific feats of heroism.^
^Have they been tested in battle?^
^On a limited basis. There are many things Suld chooses to keep secret, in case of an invasion by the TELREC. And I feel his caution may have paid off.^
She ran her hand along the front of the casing, the clone’s eyes watching it as it traced a line in the condensation. It immediately went back to her eyes when she stopped.
I know if I possessed an army of these things, things would have been different. But who would I be fighting for? Strange I should feel these stirrings of morality, I who have beheaded children and slaughtered innocent men and women. I have been around Suld too long.
Suddenly they were violently shaken by an unseen force, like an earthquake, toppling them to their feet. They both quickly recovered, and Ruggert accessed a status report from the internal cast-net.
^We are under attack,^ he cast grimly, ^by the TELREC.^
Theia put her moral concerns aside, and in an instant, she was an Iganinagi again, ready to fight with incredible viciousness to defeat the TELREC. They both proceeded quickly back to the landing, as the machines around them sprung to life.
^What shall I do?^ she asked, coming to attention before him.
^Get you people over to dromon facilities—I am casting their locations to you know.^ He paused for a moment as Theia assimilated the information. ^Assume command of the dromons there. Clone Controllers will be assigned to you en route.^ They boarded the lift, as Ruggert accessed the machines around them, verifying their status. He turned to Theia. ^It’s only been two roas. I hope you’ve had enough training.^
^We are Iganinagi. We will not fail you.^
They were rocked again by an unseen explosion. Around them machines worked furiously, breaking clones out of storage, smaller soumanoid meta passing battle fatigues through the ranks, then assembling the clones in long columns for transport to the surface. As their pods opened, they stepped with great purpose onto the mist-shrouded ground, raising their heads almost in unison to scan the environment as if they were not organic but meta. Theia, for a moment, felt a twinge of fear, that she would not like to be trapped in a small space with them. The clones filed quickly into formation, a few looking around, seemingly aware of their
circumstance. The lift slowly ascended, leaving what was fast becoming a thickly-populated staging ground.
^There is an element of the random introduced into them,^ cast Ruggert. ^A few are even created with distinctive physical characteristics. Diversity does wonders to a society, something the TELREC have forgotten.^
Theia glanced at those uniques, whose eyes betrayed a glimmer of individuality and self-awareness.
I wonder if others defer to them. I wonder if they would ever refuse an order, or a mission.
The lift gained in speed, and Theia could glean some of the tactical reports being cast to Ruggert. Ruggert cast battle orders to his troops, and conferred with the other three generals. Theia was left to think on the battle ahead.
So the TELREC have finally chosen to fight OLMAC. They knew when to strike—with Suld occupied on Novan. I only hope he gets back here soon. But we shall not disappoint him. Our hearts shall fight as if it were our own people we were fighting for. We will fight to avenge those we lost, till our eyes cast fire and our blades be steeped in TELREC blood.
13
NnuG barrier:Network of null-grav projectors along the extremity of a ship. They project beams of gravitational energy, forming a cushion around the ship. This field repels solid objects, such as missiles, and slows the progress of light through it. Beams of energy are disbursed through its bandwidth. The
