Gene Drifters: The Clone Soldier Chronicles-Book III (22 page)

“Here he is, standing next to Gimlet.” They both looked at a
live feed of Chad Yac standing next to Gimlet with his arm around her shoulder.
It was a real-time vlog from the pedestrian entry portal to #5. They were
standing in front of a group of clone soldiers dressed in hoverbike security
suits. Michael Segev was handing a wad of vouchers to the mayor.

“He looks okay, I guess. Actually he’s very decent looking. Maybe
we’ll have beautiful grandchildren; can they have kids, the clonies I mean? And
what is Segev doing there?” Dina asked.

“We had Gimlet, and I am a clone soldier. And Michael is
donating to the clone soldier support fund of bubble-stop #5. It was a
posthumous donation from that nutria-blend CEO.” Dorian laughed.

“Yes, we did have Gimlet.” Dina looked to the left of her
daughter and Chad, at the group standing nearer to the entry portal. They
looked confused, even afraid.

“So, this is the outrageously expensive Elizabeth Turner
acquisition from Leo Songtain. Who paid for them? And, where did you say that
wad of vouchers came from?”

“The vouchers were lifted from a safe box yesterday. They
belonged to that now dead CEO of Nutria-blend. And as for the clone purchase, no
one individual paid the funds to Leo Songtain, Dina; I hacked the funds from forty-two
recently promoted high level managers from the cosmetic surgery, human
resources, and pre-owned limo divisions.”

“Won’t they notice? I mean that worker level is not stinking
rich like the CEOs you normally use as donors,” Dina said as she continued
examining the vid of Chad, as only a potential mother-in-law is capable of
doing.

 “They’ll be getting small reductions in their promotional
bonuses. But, being newly promoted they won’t want to complain. They’ll think
the bonuses are less than expected, but they won’t complain.” Dorian offed the
vid of Chad and Gimlet, and pulled up job options for his daughter and soon to
be son-in-law.

“How about Israel; Michael Segev has connections there. I
know you don’t always get along with Michael but he does have connections in
the Israeli Free Zone,” Dorian said.

“Plus they have great robotics research at Ben Gurion, and
Gimlet just passed all her exams. Get her a job there. What do you suppose Chad
would like to do, as employment? Find him something with a big salary, Dorian,”
Dina said.

“I would guess he can handle security jobs, special security
like Michael Segev does. Let me contact someone I know about that,” Dorian
replied, with a sigh of relief. He was so happy his wife could finally see
reason; that she would drop her clonie crusade.

“Israel would be nice to visit. They have really good
schools, and the weather is still nice there, though often very hot. Okay,
Israel it is.” Dina walked off, thinking that she’d never been this happy, not for
a long time.

The next day Max arrived back at the Hong Kong Hoverport, one
hour after leaving Tokyo Narita, took his limo to his office, installed Bitbuns
into the back rooms of his suite along with her very own red and white polka
dot robe, and noticed he had a message from Leo Songtain. He hoped it wasn’t
urgent. Leo Songtain hated to be kept waiting. And unless Max could get that
bank hacker to retrieve those missing gold vouchers, he would be working for
Leo for at least another ten years. His dreams of Fiji were fading.

“I have to get those gold vouchers back or I’ll be listening
to Roxanne Smoot stories for the next ten years. Shit!” Max screamed at his
assistant to put a bot-com through directly to Leo Songtain immediately. While
he waited, he had his personal clothing assistant attach his new gold and
diamond cufflinks to his custom-made light pink silk shirt, and then he
instructed his security man to find the Ferrari that matched the key he’d taken
from the dead CEOs safe box.

“Yes Mr. Peabody, sir, you called for assistance?” his
security chief appeared at his office door in five minutes, out of breath from
running up from the basement.

“This is a key to a real 1957 Ferrari 625 TRC Spider, not a
copy, not a silly hover vehicle, not a digital, but a real Ferrari. Do you have
any idea how many of these works of art still exist on the planet, Luther?” Max
was standing in his outer office getting fitted by his personal tailor for yet
another litigation suit. This one was a soft green dyed lamb’s wool, from the
New Zealand Free Zone; something outrageously expensive, especially given Max’s
substantial girth. Max thought the color went nicely with his almost black but
scant and oily hair, and swarthy skin. Well, he called his complexion swarthy;
some would use the words, unshaven, or unkempt…you get the picture.

“No sir, how many are left?” Luther asked, hoping it was not
a quiz. He tried desperately to look interested in an antique car. But it was
so far out of his life style range, he’d not even bothered to look at pictures
of real Ferraris.

“Thirty-seven of this design; there are only thirty-seven
left on the entire planet. And they don’t have any in the Mars or lunar towns
either.” Max brushed his tailor aside, and pointed to the key.

“Bring the Ferrari to my personal garage. My mechanic will
know what to do with it. You will find it someplace in the CEO’s underground parking
slots at Nutria-blend Inc., or in the garage of the dead CEO’s house, or maybe even
still parked in the golf club enclosure outside of Hong Kong. It will have a
tracking tag, so when the key gets even somewhat close, it will beep like a
homing signal.”

“Yes sir, of course, sir; I’ll bring it to your estate
immediately.” Luther took the key and started to leave, excited he’d have the
once in a lifetime opportunity to drive a work of art. But before Luther left,
Max remembered to tell him the password, and to give him a sample of the CEO’s
DNA, kept in a vial in his office safe, should the need for a DNA-validated
access ever occur.

The CEO’s DNA sample would be required for entry into the
auto. Once the Ferrari was brought to Max’s estate, his own mechanic could
modify it to recognize Max, its new owner. Finally, after his security chief
left, he scanned entry to his own vault and stored the precious formula inside.
Then his assistant chimed him; Leo was on-com.

“Mr. Songtain, so sorry I missed your com. I was away on business
to Tokyo, dealing with that Korean organ company acquisition we discussed last
week. You remember sir, the brain cell growth stocks?”

“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.