Gene Drifters: The Clone Soldier Chronicles-Book III (13 page)

“Now, the pirates have you to trade for those ransom vouchers
from Leo Songtain. They think it’s the quickest way for them to get the funds
into their pockets. Of course, it would be easier if your dad could just buy
the stocks for them, or give them the funds directly.”

“How would that go down?” Gimlet asked.

 “The chits could be transferred from one of your dad’s
account hacks, or rather his sat-hacks, as you call them, for direct transfer
into their bubble-stop #3
Arts for the Future
account. Well, that’s what
they call it.” Chad smiled at Gimlet, who raised an eyebrow and laughed softly.
Chad loved the sound of her laugh.

“A sat-hack on funds is not so simple, Chad; even for
transfer to an art account. Dad has to plan it far in advance, and transfer
quickly. Long-term chits in accounts draw too much attention. Plus, even Dad
has trouble getting stocks. You know only corporate strata can own stocks. It’s
part of the social order. The last time someone tried to do that was over in bubble-stop
#5, about six years ago, and the WME eliminated them. They opened the water pumps
and let the ocean into their zone, or at least the upper part. Dad said the lower
levels were saved,” Gimlet replied.

“I was afraid of that. We never had that problem on
Deceit
.
We just hid out and fended for ourselves. Although I have to say it was
primitive at times. This whole stock and social order strata system is new to
me. What would you do?” Chad asked.

“I’m still not sure how Dad can save your family from my
mother, Chad. If the shipment is delayed she’ll just wait. But if it gets lost
someplace she’ll know Dad did it. She’d just demand that Dad return the clones,
and we’d be back to square one. Unless Dad goes against Mom, nothing will work.
I’ll just have to ask Dad to come up with his best plan. He’s better at this
sort of thing. He knows all sorts of people with very special skills. But, what
about the pirates, how will you deal with them? Aren’t they going to be primo
pissed off if they’re left empty-handed?” Gimlet asked.

“Unless we trade you for Roxanne, they get left out. And, I
don’t feel like trading you to anyone. I guess someday it will be the revenge
of the pirates for me. But for now, I need to stay focused on saving my clan,”
Chad said.

“We need to get up top so I can contact Dad. That’s the
first step. Maybe he can find a way to make you and your group disappear, and
satisfy the pirates at the same time,” Gimlet responded as she got dressed.

“Does he know anyone who can make a batch of clonies
disappear in transit before delivery, in three days? Does he know anyone who
could arrange a disappearance? I do know of one individual, but I don’t know
how to contact him. His name is…” Chad started, but Gimlet interrupted him.

“I know someone who can pretty much make anyone disappear,
alive or dead.”

“MICHAEL SEGEV,” they both said, simultaneously.

                                                                                 
11

MICHAEL SEGEV WAS COINCIDENTALLY ALSO WHO ROXANNE WAS
THINKING OF. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and concentrate on the
more critical issues at hand.

She and Rose were in an oxygen bubble transport device,
traversing the short distance from the Lanai rig off-load dock to one of the
small back portals into bubble- stop #3. They’d arrived in San Fran #1 in record
time to find they did not need to have their rig go through a fast bio-check
for a return haul, as the checks done at #2 would suffice.

However, they did need to stow their rig for a yearly Inc.
upgrade, required but deducted from their paychecks. Upon arrival they did
their fastest rig dock ever, handed the control codes to the Inc. upgrade robotics
unit, and hoofed it the half mile to the off-load job control office, running
into Morton in the process.

“Morton. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be hauling
west by now,” Roxanne said, out of breath from her half mile run.

“I’m doing a haul with four of the level I rig-ryder
interns, in a training rig of all things. You know we divide the babysitting
among all the level III rig-ryders, all summer. We don’t even get paid for it;
in fact, we lose chits because we’re required to train the idiot newbies on our
own time, losing potential hauls. Plus, I got to buy food for the trainees out
of my own pocket,” Morton complained, as he directed the newbies to what the
instructors called their training wheels.

This time Morton knew one of the trainees would be his
replacement. It made for one very short-tempered intern trainer. But, because
the interns so desperately needed the jobs, they were happy despite their
short-tempered trainers. And besides, the worker efficiency protocol did stress
that ill-tempered trainers produced better and more efficient workers.

After their three months rig haul training period, the
newbies would be promoted to rig-ryder level I status, if they passed the haul
exams. Of course, they didn’t own their rigs, not unless they had rich parents.
They leased them, via substantial chit docks from their minimum wages. Like university
students with loans, they could only hope to be debt free by the time they
retired.

“You want us to sub for you, Morton? Rose and I got to get
onto Lanai. We have an issue,” Roxanne whispered to Morton, motioning him to
follow her to a more private place. They both walked to the back of the rig.

“What’s the issue, Roxanne? Are you in trouble?” Morton
cupped a hand over his mouth, in case one of the trainees could lip read.

“Gimlet’s missing. Rose and I think she’s on Lanai. It’s too
long to go into and we have re-track time issues. Can we run your usual haul
for you?” Roxanne asked.

“Of course, I’ll code the sub in. But, you gotta split the
chits, fifty-fifty. Okay?”

“You got a deal,” Roxanne replied, palming her ID to Morton.
The code box would now accept her as the driver for his haul.

Morton was only too happy to have Roxanne and Rose sub for
him as it meant he would not have to give up the potential haul chits, and also
providing they split any bribes from the pirates in #3. It seems Morton had
quite a little side line going in illegals into #3.

Thus, Roxanne and Rose drove Morton’s rig to the bubble-stop
#3 off-load dock, to Morton’s usual down-time place for his required rig check.
Roxanne agreed they’d share any bribes and his normal haul chits, fifty-fifty,
and she would hand deliver anything off the record to the pirates. They’d left her
rig back in San Fran, surrounded by humming busy little nano-drones, doing
their usual yearly upgrades. This year the drones upped the maximum load.

She and Rose had sixty-seven hours to find and rescue Gimlet
before their own re-track time back in San Fran. Roxanne had to bribe the
dispatcher to let them take Morton’s haul; there was a long wait list for subs
into the #3 Lanai zone as the food was better.

Roxanne convinced the mid-manager dispatcher by telling her
she’d bring back some great stuff from Lanai for her. Her rig would get the
yearly Inc. upgrades, while she and Rose did overtime doing Morton’s haul, and
she’d be back to retrieve her nicely re-tuned and upgraded rig in time for her
scheduled haul back to Tokyo. She also had to agree to buy that manager a
weekend pass to the Lanai R&R for that special weekend retreat thing, plus
give up her extra black leather jacket.

Overtime
was the magic word; you never got paid extra
for it, but the Inc. saved, and the Inc. loved to save. It was not union
sanctioned, but everyone did this in the summer to collect extra chits, during
intern training. At the end of the summer, the chits would be equally shared
among the level III trainers. It was usually enough to buy an extra-large pizza,
even topped with ham and pineapple. You just had to be sure to eat tons of
caffeine spiked food balls or wear the skin patches to stay awake during those
overtime hauls. At present, Roxanne and Rose were both pretty wired from
caffeine patches and spiked food balls.

“I see the back portal ahead, Roxanne. We may have to use
sonics if the locks won’t open.” Rose was driving the bubble. Roxanne was busy
checking her weapons, a sonic stunner, an old fashioned and fully loaded Glock,
a present from Gimlet, her whip, and two Goto knives, from Michael Segev. The knives
were birthday presents. He was so romantic.

“I’ve got the sonics ready. But, try the old code first.
Maybe it hasn’t changed. Morton said it was always the same,” Roxanne replied.
They had explained the plan to Morton before taking off from #1 in his rig. He
usually used an oxygen bubble transporter to deliver the perishables, and any
illegals into this back portal. He told them he used the back portal to deliver
illegals, like neuro-pops, or even escaped sex slaves to this region. Today
Roxanne and Rose were carrying contraband vaccines, real, honest to god, polio
vaccines. They were for the #3 school kids, and had cost the pirates a fortune
in traded sex slaves. But, these
slaves
had volunteered so that their
kids could get those vaccines.

The pirates had also set up quite a trade in real kidnapped
sex slaves. Many stayed on, preferring to live among the pirates rather than
serve out their time at the pleasure of one of the WME rulers or an Inc. CEO.

See, when you got convicted of a crime, you had your choice
of slave time, a flash freeze, or hard labor. The flash freeze thing was
promoted by the WME as a cheap way to house prisoners without having to feed
them. Most of the better looking humans, male and female, preferred the flash
freeze, even though they would probably wake up in a world they knew nothing about.
If it got too weird, well that’s bubble stop #5.

But, as I said before, that’s another story.

“I still think we should have contacted Michael Segev,
Roxanne. He goes in and out of this region all the time on rebel missions for
Dorian,” Rose said as she maneuvered the bubble to suction lock with the portal,
and coded in the security numbers provided by Morton. They worked. The portal
opened directly into the tunnel, after the water was pumped out.

“Well, that was much easier than blowing the place,” Rose
deadpanned.

The thought of Michael Segev made Roxanne smile. And,
usually no human male could make Roxanne Smoot smile. Men had that crazy
reaction to her; it was annoying, and sometimes dangerous. It had always been
that way, even when she was much too young for those looks, and was living in
the back cab with her dad, Eldridge. It made her keep her distance, become wary
of males, and learn to use a whip.

I suppose it was why she fell for Michael Segev. Let me
tell you that story.

The first time she met him, Roxanne walked into the bar at
#4 for her down-time, and as usual, the rig-ryders all went boner on her, all
except Michael. He was sitting at the bar whispering to Eldridge. They were
discussing some rebel spy mission stuff.

Michael looked up at her, maybe for five seconds, looked
annoyed at the interruption, and continued his whispered discussion with
Eldridge. On her part, it was love at first sight. He just thought she was a
minor distraction. He thought that for the first year. Maybe he still does. One
never knows what Michael Segev is thinking. Anyway, that’s how they met.

Now back to the #3 portal with Roxanne
.

“We can do this fine by ourselves, Rose. We don’t need
Michael. Just open the air lock,” Roxanne replied. She was annoyed that Rose
had brought Michael up again; she needed to concentrate. Roxanne finished her
last weapons check, tucked the Glock into the back of her pants, under her
shirt, and entered the portal head first, fired up sonic in her right hand.

“Okay, it was just a suggestion. Don’t go alI pissy on me, I
got your back. Let’s do this.” Rose spoke in Maori, with a sort of low growly sound,
so no one would hear her.

The tunnel into #3 had a terrible echo and full canine-speak
would carry. Roxanne and Rose inched carefully through until they reached a
turn. Morton told them this was the worst section. It was the pirates’ illegal booty
portal, but if there was some sort of faction war going on they could be
grabbed up for ransom, or caught in cross-fire. Roxanne had Rose look around
the corner, because she was at a lower level, and could see better in the dark
tunnel.

“All clear; let’s go,” Rose growled.

They continued their slow pace, until they came to one of
the actual #3 gates, then used Morton’s code pass to enter. A slime bubbler
encased them immediately and a robotic voice said,

“Welcome to bubble-stop #3, Roxanne Smoot, rig-ryder
level III. I have record of your replacement for Morton level III as per summer
intern training replacement. Please proceed to the offload dock. Thank you and
have a nice day.”

The plasmon slime oozed off of them, leaving only a slight
smell of toluene and benzene. Rose identified those organics immediately from
her university chemistry class. Two giant, heavily armed, smiling pirates
greeted them at the other side of the plasmon gate, happy to have the load of
vaccines, for which they paid Roxanne the agreed upon chits; the bribe she
would split fifty-fifty with Morton, as the volunteer slaves had already been
delivered. She hid the chits in the side pouch of her left boot.

At first, Roxanne expected the usual male reaction to her.
But, the pirates were not impressed. She was surprised for a minute, but then
she remembered her disguise, a plain, frumpy, middle-aged woman, the invisible
human. Roxanne had planned this back in San-Fran. She wore a fat suit and a
temporary stem cell face, which would melt in two hours. She’d selected the
tired street cleaner face from several designs, sold at the face and stem cell tattoo
shop near the San Fran rig dock, under the Golden Gate Bridge, near the power
center for that lock; it was the lock that some rich CEO had built before the
first ocean level rise.

Temporary faces were legal in all areas, even at security
gates; it was the DNA that was checked for entry, not the face. A genetic ID
was much more accurate. The scan-drones didn’t even notice what the face looked
like.

After signing with the pirates for delivery of the legals,
Roxanne personally handed one guy a small box, something illegal from Morton.
She had no idea what was inside, and told Morton not to even tell her. Most
likely it contained voucher bribes, or maybe neuropops; something to keep both
sides happy for future dealings in illegals. It was how Morton kept his rig
upgraded. She knew he also hoped to build his retirement back up that way.

“Tell Morton thanks, and we’ll see him after training
season. Just tell him we’ll agree to the usual.” One of the guards palmed
acceptance of what was legal, some solar cells for their school, and stashed
the illegal vaccines in a backpack.

“Follow us; we’ll take you to the main gate. Things are
pretty quiet now, but last week we had a faction war going on. This alley was a
war zone. You’re lucky it’s quiet this week.”

“What was the fight about?” Roxanne asked to make polite
conversation.

“Turf, mostly; #3 is getting overcrowded and space is
premium. The pirate faction wants chits for protection, the shop keepers want
space, and the WME wants taxes. It’s always the same. You got problems in your
stop? Where is your usual stop anyway?” the #3er asked.

“I hail from #5. Before hauling I grew up in #5.” Roxanne
lied, but it certainly did stop the conversation. Both pirates just sort of
stepped away from Roxanne after that, like she was contagious. Then, after they
reached the portal gate, both slipped away as fast as they could, most likely
to get to a quick decontam unit. It was the normal reaction to #5ers.

Roxanne and Rose looked around, finally finding the switch
to open the gate, turned the metal bar clockwise, and stepped inside. The
portal gate opened into a midtown area near a back alley, behind what looked
like a sports equipment shop. They both walked around as nonchalantly as they
could, although Roxanne was not practiced at sauntering in a fat suit. She did
more of a duck walk.

But, blending in was not a problem for Rose. She noted a
plethora of Dobermans in the area, some real eye candy. They walked quickly to
a less crowded area, because Roxanne had only two hours of official logged in Inc.
dock time at #3 before a check drone would be launched to search for them, and besides,
her face would also expire in another two hours.

“Do you smell any trace of Gimlet anywhere, Rose?” Roxanne
asked, in whispered Maori.

“No. Wait, yes, I have a faint trace on her smell. This
way.” Rose scooted to the left with Roxanne following, trying to look like a
drab lady on a shopping trip. Luckily it was off work time, and it seemed
everyone was out shopping or going out to one of the many restaurants in #3.
They passed an especially enticing place, smelling the orgasmic aroma of fried
spam and eggs.