Gene Drifters: The Clone Soldier Chronicles-Book III (7 page)

“I would have thought he was just some crazy guy too, until
I noticed
your
tattoo,” Brad replied, shifting from right to left, like
he had to pee, or was trying to hide the rather large bulge in his crotch.

“What about my tattoo?” Roxanne had several; some were for
body decoration, and some served as bot-coms to the rebels or to someone else,
someone very unique, special to her, and very dangerous. “The black orchid one;
he had one just like it. I thought maybe you knew him.” Brad Benton spoke quickly.
He wanted to get away from Rose’s teeth.

“Did he say his name?” Roxanne had an idea, but there were
probably a million other people on the planet with black orchid tattoos.

“No, he was gone before I could ask him. Can I go now? I’m
due in class for intern orientation. Thank you for the opportunity to meet you,
Miss Roxanne. Wow, you’re just, wow, you’re so, wow, you really are just like
they said.” Brad Benton backed out of the alley, careful not to look Rose in
the eyes. It was like she would go into serious threat mode or something;
couldn’t control her response. “
Really insulting
,” Rose thought.

“Well, that was weird. I have to go talk to Dad. Come on,
Rose.” Roxanne hurried to the door, keyed in her entry code, and called to
Eldridge.

“Well, what do you think, Daddy?” Roxanne and Rose sat in
the kitchen with a sleepy, pajama clad Eldridge, drinking left over coffee
directly from the pot. They’d had to wake him from a sound sleep. She hated to
do that. Eldridge only got to sleep early when he spent extra chits for a
robo-bar unit, something he did when Roxanne had her down-time off, once a
week.

“I think it’s probably
you know who
. We should tell
Dorian immediately. If it’s true, it could be dangerous. But I doubt it ties in
with the problems over in #3, with the pirates. Maybe they are in on it, but
not likely. Nutria-blend is sealed and tagged from the Inc., directly. But maybe
the #3ers got wind of the poison problem; want to get back at the Inc. by
jacking a haul or two. I just don’t know, Roxie. I’ll bot-com Dorian right now.
You two go get some sleep. You got work tomorrow. But, in the meantime take
some real food from the kitchen pantry with you for the trip to Tokyo. Just
save up your nutria-blend rations and dump them for now; use the porta-john in
the back of the rig, and flush the junk into the ocean. I never liked you
drinking that crap anyway; it’s bad for your teeth, Roxie. Good night, sweetheart.”
Eldridge walked back to his room to com Dorian.

“Okay Daddy, good night. I’ll probably be gone before you get
up. I’ll see you next week,” Roxanne said, kissing her dad on the cheek. “Give
my love to Gimlet when you see her in Tokyo,” Eldridge mumbled as he shuffled
back to his bedroom. “I will, Daddy. Sorry I woke you up.” Roxanne walked to
her room, showered, and dressed in her favorite sleeping shirt, an old, way too
big shirt, from her dad’s throw-aways. Before she went to sleep she sat down to
read some of
Jane Eyre
. It was her favorite book.

The next morning, after University final exams, in a storage
box formerly referred to as a capsule hotel, in the fish market district of
Tokyo, Gimlet was still so asleep she was not even subconsciously thinking
about the “
awake”
word. She’d finished her exams the previous day; aced
them, she thought. Her school friends went out to party in the entertainment
tunnels beneath the Roppongi district, but Gimlet had gone back to her cubicle
to take a short nap. She had fallen asleep for the night, accidentally missed
the whole party tunnel thing. It was probably fortunate. Her white guy tail had
been waiting in the tunnel for her most of the evening. Let me re-state that; it
was fortunate for the white guy tail. Dorian had a laser satellite already
targeting him, should the guy decide to bother his daughter.

When Gimlet dozed enough to know she wouldn’t be getting
back to sleep, she put on her azure blue-tinted contacts to hide those glowing mutant
eyes, punched in the open box code, and her capsule whooshed, like a coffin.
Her coffin was six capsules up, at the end of a long hallway. Gimlet had waited
for two years to get such a nice capsule location near the window, but not mid
hallway; so there was some fresh air, less noise, and no smell from the
toilets. The first year she’d been right next to the toilet room and try as she
might, she could not ignore the chemical smells and constant flushing noise.
Sometimes in the early mornings, when she was trying to sleep in, she could
even count the number of teeth being brushed.

“Well, time to go see what my friends are up to. Maybe I can
still catch some partying.” Gimlet climbed down the ladder to the white
concrete hallway floor, slipped on her toilet slippers, not the indoor, or the
outdoor slippers, or even the garden shoes, and went to her locker, against the
wall by the toilet room door. She keyed in her access code and retrieved
toiletries, some fresh jeans and a t-shirt, socks, underwear, and a hair tie,
to hold back her mid-back-length ash blond colored hair.

The shower was cold; it always was too cold to stand in for
any length of time. Gimlet economized when she could. Hot water was a full five
extra chits per minute. She knew her dad could hack into some rich guy’s
accounts for funds, but it was never a sure thing. Someone could find out and
it would jeopardize rebel security. She didn’t want to jeopardize her rebels
for something as stupid as a warm shower.

Gimlet stepped naked from the shower, almost knocking into a
half asleep, and also naked, business man from the cubicle below her. “
Ohayoo
gozaimasu
,” they both mumbled to each other. At first, Gimlet had been
embarrassed by the naked culture in Japan. But she got used to it. Besides, you
couldn’t find a time when the showers were empty. As she slipped into her
jeans, she glanced at the full-length mirror, built into the wall. It was
steamy, but she saw enough to once again notice how height-challenged she was.
Even with her dad, Dorian being well over six feet tall, she’d only maxed out
at around five feet six inches. Roxanne teased her about it by leaning an arm
on her head, like she was an armrest.

Speaking of which, Gimlet glanced at her palm timer to check
how many hours she had before her eel lunch with Roxanne at
Obana
. Good,
she noticed she had at least three hours before their luncheon. It was enough
time for a quick shopping spree. She had to get the gifts so Roxanne could
bring the stuff back on her rig. It was much cheaper that way. And besides, she
wanted to get a gift for her best friend and sister. She’d seen that silk-synth
scarf at Mitsukoshi; it was fire red, the same color as Roxanne’s hair. Though
it cost five chits, she knew Roxanne would love it.

Gimlet exited her living quarters, the
Capsule Hotel Hasu
no Hana
, turned right towards the Tsukijii fish market, and entered the
sub-tunnel hover tram port station.

Ten minutes later, when the tram pulled into the Mitsukoshi
tunnel, Gimlet had vanished.

The day before, after her bot-com to her daughter Gimlet,
and husband Dorian, Dina was getting ready to exit the security-hut in Hong
Kong when she noticed someone outside frantically knocking on the portal.

“Hello, please can we talk. Can I come in?” Dina had just
tuned out her com when she noticed that Irma, Max’s high-heeled assistant, was
outside the security-hut knocking on the portal, with some urgency. Dina used
that part of her mind that normal mind readers could not detect.

Dina is not an ordinary mutant like Gimlet; she’s a half
viral mutant and half some off-planet version. Let’s not go into it. Let me
just say she’s unusual…and very dangerous. I guess it’s why she does a lot of
the rebel spy missions, when someone needs to get a mind-fuck.

“What is the issue, Irma? Does the legal counsel wish to
alter the terms?” Dina asked through the portal, but did not yet open the security-hut
door. She first had to determine why the hell Leo’s Songtain’s legal counselor’s
assistant had followed her to a security-hut, and what she wanted.

“No please, this is about something else. I need your help.
I need to escape. Leo sent me to talk you into dinner, but I need your help to
escape. Please let me in. Please help me.” Dina knew she spoke the truth. She
opened the hatch and let Irma enter, allowing three spy nano-drones to get in,
which she had to immediately swat. Irma smashed the final one under one of
those four inch high heels. Ouch!

“What is this about?” Dina asked after they’d hatched the
security-hut door, eliminated the intruding spybots, and read the green secure
signal on the hatch door. For extra security, Dina pressed the one-way vid, to
shut out any visuals from outsiders. As it closed off she noticed the knowing
smirk on the face of a passer-by. Someone thought she and Irma were in hook-up
mode for a quickie.

“I need your help to get away from Max, Ms. Turner. Can you
help me disappear? I can do any kind of work. I don’t have anyone else to turn
to. I had a family once, a real family, maybe like you. I’m not one of those
party tunnel employees, you know, the ones trained for the job? My dad was a
cook in one of the tram station walk-ups. He kept me hidden in the back room until
a year ago, when he died. I didn’t inherit his job license. It went on the Blacks
to someone else. I couldn’t afford the price. But I made a nice, but illegal living
in the tunnels, in the tattoo division,” Irma finished, sucking in her breath.

“How did you end up with someone like Max?” Dina asked.

“I don’t have a legit worker ID, so one night Max found me.
He told me he was out recruiting for a new secretary; would get me an ID and
work permit. Later I found out it’s how he nabs his slaves. It’s cheaper for
him that way. He doesn’t have to purchase at top price at the sex auctions. I’m
his slave. I don’t have a choice. You know those without workers’ IDs don’t
have citizen rights anymore. He uses me during his business deals, and for
whatever else he wants. Here, see?” Irma raised her miniscule jade green skirt,
showing a large purplish/red bruise on her inner and very upper thigh.

“There are more, fresh nightly. He’s got ugly habits. Max is
very nasty, more so than most legal snakes. Please, can you help me escape? I
could stand the bruising, but he’s planning to have me stem cell implanted, for
enhanced sexual efficiency; he says it’s something related to the worker
efficiency protocol,” Irma said.

“Don’t you have a choice in that?” Dina asked.

“Normal human workers with IDs still have a choice on
whether to accept implantation; but, I don’t. Illegals can be implanted now,
without informed consent.” Irma lowered her skirt and waited for Dina’s
response, with tears in her eyes.

A worker efficiency implant, established by the new worker
efficiency protocol, was required in jobs now threatened by robotic take-over,
or for all illegal workers. An ID’ed worker could refuse, but was usually fired.
Those without IDs could be implanted against their will; they were illegal
workers, after all. The implant made the worker extremely efficient in various
ways, but caused increased chance of cancer, dementia, breast growth in males,
and baldness; and, sandwiched in tiny fonts at the bottom of the list, between
facial hair growth, and hangnails, was erectile dysfunction.  

Of course Dina had to help her. And it wouldn’t take much
time. “Meet me at my hotel in an hour. Tell Leo you are stopping by to pick me
up for dinner. I’ll see what I can arrange.” Irma left the hut, turning left to
the underground tunnel; Dina hailed a hovercab. She told the robo-cabbie to
take her to the Opus, explaining everything to Dorian on the way.

“Hello, Mr. Songtain. I spoke with my client. He wishes to
add me as bonus for faster delivery of the product. It will only be for a
single evening, of course. I know this is most unusual, but would you grant me
security access entry? Perhaps you may also wish to inform your counselor, Max.
If you wish, we can include him in the bonus. I will wait in the lobby for your
decision to accept the bonus. Of course there will be no economic liability
should you wish to refuse the offer,” Dina spoke into the com.

She stood in front of the vid outside the impenetrable entry
door to the Opus, speaking to a red satin-robbed Leo. At first he was angry
with the intrusion, was half-way through the 3
^rd
installment of “
Romance
and the CEO
,” a popular soap. But when he saw who was at his front door, he
went all creamy in some places and hard in others.

“What a pleasant surprise, Ms. Turner. May I call you
Elizabeth? I will buzz you in immediately. Max can wait,” he said, again in
that unnaturally low voice.

“Thank you, Leo. I’ll be right up.” Dina smiled her best, ‘
yes,
let’s fuck
’ smile at the vid of Leo, standing there in his red satin, bulge
in the lower middle, robe.

Ten minutes later, Dina exited the Opus, carrying the rolled
up Roxanne Smoot bounty poster. It was not difficult to alter Leo’s train of
thought, to do what Gimlet called a mind-fuck. Her mutant abilities were
unique; she could control what people wanted to do, change their minds, implant
memories. She was one of only a few rebels capable of this. She left him with a
clear memory of lunch, to sell clone soldiers to that Las Vegas client, then of
steamy sex with that caramel-skinned assistant, and with the absolute certainty
that he’d also given Irma to the new client, thrown in as a bonus, with the
clone soldier purchase deal. Or did he throw her in as a gift?

Leo couldn’t remember, but was perturbed that he’d missed
ten whole minutes of his show, peeing. Plus, he was genuinely upset about his
missing Roxanne Smoot bounty poster. He thought maybe the housekeeper had taken
it. It was a special one, artistically modified to show her naked, and spread
eagle. Well, he’d been thinking of a further modification anyway; something
involving her tongue and his dong, which was now, once again, in the on mode.