Gene Drifters: The Clone Soldier Chronicles-Book III (15 page)

Yes, my folks, there’s trouble, trouble in Sewer City.

“This place is a regular city. I had no idea it was like
this. It’s huge.” Gimlet was astonished at the place. It ran the entire
distance from Molokai to Lanai, and was one enormous tunnel under the ocean,
but with alleys leading off to all sorts of additional houses and buildings. It
was designed to hide those unpleasant things from the rich, like low level
worker housing, and well, poor people in general. That way the uppers would not
have to deal with sewage or worker issues, something too unpleasant for a rich
CEO on vacation to get a new face.

“The cities grew at the same time as your bubble-stops,
Gimlet. The workers are not given a housing allowance here, and as you can
imagine, would not be welcomed on Lanai. Only upper management lives on Lanai.
Even the domestics and gardeners live down here. There was nowhere else to
live. You get the job, you figure out where to live, after.

“Have you met any of the citizens?” Gimlet asked, after
reaching the end of a catwalk.

“I talked to a few down here over the past couple of weeks,
got to know them in case I needed a place to hide with my family. This is one
of the few places where the
unregulated
can live without being traced or
traded on the Blacks. It has something to do with the mass of nano bacs.
Somehow they interfere with signals from bot-com devices, so people can hide
out here. That’s why we have to get up top for you to message your Dad.” Chad
finished and helped Gimlet off the catwalk, into another tunnel. He now had to
almost shout. The pump noise from the nano bacs was particularly deafening in
that region of the tunnel.

“We’re at bilge station #2; it takes the mushed up sewage, then
adds in a cocktail of nano bacs, nanoparticle encapsulated sewage-eating bacteria,
used to change the raw sewage into basics, like amino acids, and
carbohydrates,” Chad shouted. “The idea came from when they started using
designer bacteria to eat oil spills, way back before the pandemics. From here, nutrient
separation devices run to clean lines, which finally run to food plants nearer
to shore. The essentials are then artificially flavored, pressed into capsules
or made into a drink, and fed to legal workers, lower level management, and pets;
hence our food balls and nutria-blend,” Chad finished. He’d obviously memorized
the tour guide’s lecture.

“So that must be the main city, up ahead of us.” Gimlet
pointed to a metropolis, complete with full lighting, heat, a water supply, and
some functional but not very elegant looking apartment complexes. “Where’s the
high rent district?” Gimlet joked.

“It’s the beauty of the place. Well okay, that’s definitely
a figure of speech. There is no rent here. Plus food, heat, light, and water are
free. They siphon it all off from the recycle tanks, enough to sustain
themselves. It’s all free. They do have a sort of governing council, otherwise
every
unregulated
on the planet would be clamoring to live in one of these
sewer cities.”

“You’re joking, right? I mean this is not exactly a vacation
paradise, Chad. Who are the
unregulated
?” Gimlet asked.

“Lovely folks, like me.” Chad smiled, but was not joking.
The cities hid many clones, the poor, referred to as welfs from the old welfare
terminology, escaped prisoners, and even a few mutants. The rest, the ones with
those problems
, well they all congregated at bubble-stop #5, down in the
lowers levels.

“So, they just drink the stuff right from the bilge? I mean
that’s taking toilet to table to the limit, don’t you think?” Gimlet asked.

“You eat what you have to, Gimlet. Not everyone gets to grow
up in a rebel city, in a safe place with real food. Some of us just get by,” Chad
replied, while entering the lock into bilge station #4.

“You forget I lived in the back of a rig for the first five
years of my life, eating whatever we could get at the up top rest stops. I grew
up on food balls and the occasional snake sushi; but, only if Eldridge could
sneak up top on a decently cool night to hunt for snakes. But, I get your
point. I see the end portal ahead. Where does it let out?” Gimlet asked Chad as
they continued to walk on the narrow catwalks connecting each bilge station.

“It’s in an isolated region, but near to the Lanai Inc. Bilge
#3 Food-Ball Processing Plant. We have to be careful. The place is heavily
guarded against food terrorists. It will be swarming with official security
guards, the kind with those sting suits. Here, take this gun. Let’s go.” Chad
led Gimlet up a metal grill type ladder to a small platform, near a locked
door. He had a key, a gift from one of his new sewer city buddies. Chad
unlocked the door, and opened it slightly, peaking out to determine the
locations of any guards. He held a sonic set on stun. Gimlet checked hers, a
handgun, fully loaded.

“It looks safe. Let’s go, but hurry. We have to get across
that open area without being spotted. Sewer citizens aren’t allowed exit into
Lanai. They’ll stun us and we’ll wake up at a sex slave auction. Well, you
will; I’ll end up dead,” Chad whispered as he crept out the exit portal.

They walked slowly, nonchalantly, to the gate into Lanai
proper, trying for the lost tourist look. It was night, but the place was lit
up like a party tunnel. Luckily, the guards were all facing away, admiring the
fireworks display, a nightly entertainment provided for the recuperating CEOs
sitting on their deck chairs outside the R&R facility, probably all
drinking versions of Green Weenies.

“Just what exactly do they do here, Chad?” Gimlet asked.

“What, you mean right here or on the island?” Chad asked.

“I mean at the R&R over there. You sound like Dad, by
the way. He has that same literal speak. I wonder if all clones do that. You’re
not half computer are you?” Gimlet punched Chad lightly in the arm.

“I wish. I’d love to have your dad’s mental capacity. Sorry,
the intelligence is average. I have other special abilities.” Chad smiled at
Gimlet.

“I don’t need telling what those are. The past several hours
with you in your office sort of demonstrated,” Gimlet responded.

“Only sort of?” Chad almost added something else, but
stopped talking and signaled for quiet. A guard had looked their way; had
noticed something nearby. It was a dog, a large black Doberman, who strangely
looked exactly like Rose.

“Is that who I think it is?” Gimlet was astonished. “What is
Rose doing here on Lanai? Has Roxanne pulled summer sub haul duty on Lanai? She
almost never gets to go to Lanai. This is Morton’s rig haul route” Gimlet
whispered.

“What do you mean, who? It’s a dog. And, it looks like a
mean one,” Chad whispered from their hiding place behind a barrel of bilge
juice.

“No Chad, that’s Rose. It’s Roxanne’s co-pilot. I know she
smells us. Where is Roxanne? Why is Rose acting normal dog?” Gimlet made a
high-pitched sound, and Chad covered his ears; clearly his specials extended to
dog decibel-level hearing.

“Stop that, wow, I never knew I had that ability. Look now
the dog, I mean Rose has spotted us. You better be right. Otherwise I’m eaten;
guard dogs smell clones. They eat us.” Chad pointed his sonic at Rose, as she
sauntered over to them, tail wagging in a really rather embarrassing fashion.
She was in disguise.

“Rose, over here; what are you doing here? Where’s Roxanne?”
Gimlet spoke in Maori to Rose, who answered in her low growly mumble.

“What do you mean? We came looking for you. Joster told us
you had gone missing in one of the Tokyo party tunnels. We pulled a relief sub
haul for Morton, figured someone had kidnapped you for ransom, or for a Roxanne
trade. You know how Leo Songtain is always after her?” Rose spoke quickly. She
only had a few minutes before the guards would notice her.

“Why did you think I’d be here?” Gimlet asked, in a whisper.

“We figured it was the pirates from #3 because they’ve been
tailing our rig lately. They even tried to attack the last time. But this time
they left us alone; it was like they were hiding something, or someone. We
figured that “
the
someone”
was you.” Rose glanced over at the
guards. The fireworks were wrapping up with a huge display of orange letters
spelling out WME. Rose continued.

 “I had to eat some pirate meat to get rid of them the last
time they tried to highjack our rig. They were clones. And by the way, what the
devil are you doing here on Lanai with a clone soldier.” Rose glanced over at
Chad, her teeth showing. It was a stand-off. Rose was faster, but would take a full
sonic hit before she could incapacitate Chad.

“Rose, this is Chad. He’s my… well he’s my …” Gimlet
stammered.

“Boyfriend will do. Glad to meet you, Rose. Although I have
no idea what the two of you have been talking about. Sorry, I don’t speak dog
or whatever you were speaking, Gimlet,” Chad extended a hand and shook Rose’s
paw.

“How can I help you two?” Rose asked.

“We are kind of on a time line here, Rose. We have to
message Dorian and get off the island before we are missed. I was hoping we
could hitch a ride on a rig, or even ask Dorian for fake IDs and take a hover,”
Chad whispered quickly.

“That’s too unsafe, Chad. A rig hitch would be better, less
of a security risk to the rebels,” Rose replied, looking over at the guards.

“Can you give us a ride out of here in your rig, Rose?”
Gimlet asked, while also checking to be sure the guards were still involved in
watching the final fireworks display.

“Well, there’s a tiny problem. See, Roxanne has been
captured by those pirates,” Rose replied. “I’ve been undercover, acting normal dog,
until I could scout out an escape plan or get help. I’m not sure how she got
caught, but we’ve got to get her out first, before we can take the rig. Got any
ideas?” Rose answered in Dober-speak.

“I do, but first I’ve got to contact Dad.” Gimlet crept behind
one of the signal towers and pressed her bot-com tattoo in sequence. Rose and
Chad remained hidden just inside the bilge portal. Her tattoo glowed slightly,
and for two seconds, signaling acceptance of her DNA type as ID. At rebel
headquarters, Dorian immediately responded.

“Gimlet, I was concerned of your absence. However, you will
be relieved I did not inform your mother. I know we have agreed to your need
for privacy. However, I had thought we decided upon a 24 hour absence of
notification. It has now been almost 48 hours. Am I to assume you wish to
renegotiate the length of untracked privacy time? I would be happy to do so.
However, I do need a set time. You know I have been worried.” Dorian sighed.

He was so relieved she was not in danger. He had almost been
ready to inform Dina, who would have taken off, in full fight mode, blowing
things up along the way, until she found her daughter. It got embarrassing for
Gimlet, sometimes.

“Dad, I have something to tell you. And I need you to listen
until I’m finished. Please don’t say anything until I’m finished. I HAVE A
BOYFRIEND, A SERIOUS BOYFRIEND.”

                       
                                               13

“BOYFRIEND…YOU THINK THAT”S WHY I’M GUARDING YOU, YOU UGLY
SHAG?” The guards all laughed. They were gathered around Roxanne, who was
shackled to a bed in the same cell that had held Gimlet several hours prior.
She’d forgotten she had that temporary facial transplant, and had tried flirting
her way out of the situation; she looked twenty years older, and very plain, to
be kind. Plus, she still wore the fat suit, so the soldiers had not even bothered
to touch her.

Use of charm was not an escape option.

“Chad’s going to be pissed about this. What do we do with
her? She’d never sell on the slave market. God, she’s ugly. Looks like her face
went through a bad flash freeze. Where is the boss anyway; anyone seen him
lately?” The biggest guard was speaking, while wiping his greasy mouth on his
shirt. He’d been the one who’d found Roxanne hiding in the broom closet, right
after they found that dog. He figured it was her dog; nice dog, very friendly.
He wondered where it had run off to. They’d find it eventually; there was no
way a dog could get out of the bunker.

 “Chad’s probably humping that little sugar piece we
kidnapped for him. I mean why not? She’ll still bring a ransom for a Roxanne
Smoot trade to Leo Songtain, so why not enjoy the merchandize first. Then it’s,
hello Leo Songtain; here’s your little lady for a billion trades in R&R
stock.” This time the weasel-faced guy was speaking. He had his face very close
to Roxanne’s, examining her features, especially the eyes. It was lucky she’d
worn pigmented dye patches over them. They were now a dirty dark brown, almost
black. Otherwise they’d recognize her; hard to disguise one blue eye and a
green one.

Roxanne didn’t move. She was afraid the guard saw her facial
overlays, or that the temporary was already starting to melt. It should start
in about twenty more minutes. Then she’d look like a melted wax mannequin until
she turned back into Roxanne. If that happened, and she was still their captive,
they would give her to Leo directly for the R&R stocks and maybe just kill
Gimlet.

She guessed their prisoner was Gimlet. Gimlet was in danger.
Where was Gimlet? And where the hell was Rose? Had she gone for help? Rose had
a bot-com tattoo; if she could get back to the surface, Rose could bot-com for
help, and contact Dorian or maybe Michael Segev. Maybe Michael would show up.

Well, that thought brought a smile to Roxanne’s melting face.
It was not the remembering great sex with Michael smile; it was the one she had
when remembering how Michael dealt with his enemies.

“What you smiling at, ugly face? You want a fuck? Huh, not
unless I was much more drunk, or you had a bag over your head. Let’s go find
Chad.” The head guard pointed to the other and they left, locking the door
behind them. They left the skinny guy behind to guard her. He re-locked the two
doors and sat outside, reading a book on vacation deals in Lanai. It was all
they ever had to read down in the bunker. After several minutes he walked over
to the small refrigerator and took out two bottles of nutria-blend, the spam-
and eggs-flavored variety.

Roxanne sat for an entire minute before she made a move. She
had to think. They’d taken her boots, so she had no way to pick the shackle
locks or door. She couldn’t com Dorian or Michael because the place was somehow
sealed from receiving a signal. She had no idea where Rose was, plus, if Rose
came to her call, she’d give up her cover.

She did manage to palm her timer. It was official nighttime,
but her rig haul down-time did not end until two more hours. At that time, if
she did not clock back in the Inc. would send out a drone recon for her. But,
she was not sure if they could infiltrate this place. Okay yes, Inc. drones
went everywhere. But that would be a terrible last resort, for her and these
idiot pirates, especially if the Inc. sent those stinging kind.

“I brought you some nutria-blend for dinner.” It was the
skinny guard. He’d unlocked the door and was carrying a mug of greenish liquid
that smelled like pretend spam and eggs.

“I don’t drink that stuff. You should know it’s been poisoned.”
Roxanne had no idea why she’d said that. She had only told her fellow rig-ryders
the nutria-blend was toxic. Anyway, maybe there’s was not. The rebels had not
been able to infiltrate the plant yet. Even Michael Segev hadn’t been able to.
It was too closely guarded. No one knew what the CEO and Max were up to; or
even if all the nutria-blend was toxic.

“And how would you know that? Are you some spy or
something?” The skinny guard looked skeptical, but he put his mug of official Inc
Bubble-stop #3 Nutria-blend down carefully.

“I’m not sure if it’s all toxic. I got word from a rebel
spy, a guy I met in one of the party tunnels. I overheard him talking,” Roxanne
answered, while checking her escape options.

“What is an ugly face thing like you doing in a party
tunnel?” skinny guy asked, his Adam’s apple wiggling in his neck as he spoke.

“I do clean up, not the sex trade; not pretty. I hear lots
of things though. Word in the tunnels says it’s been poisoned by one of the Incs.
They say it’s part of something called the worker efficiency protocol or
something stupid sounding. It’s supposed to make you work real fast, but it
burns out your heart, or maybe brain or something. Anyway, I stopped drinking
it; I eat my dog’s food balls. I figure they may kill off the workers, but the
CEOs love dogs, much more than people. They’d never poison a dog.”

Roxanne inched closer to the guard as she spoke, planning to
wrap her long legs around the guy’s neck until he passed out. He had the door and
shackle keys around his neck.

“You eat dog food balls? Yuck, did it make you ugly? Sorry,
I got no cause to insult you. I’m not so pretty myself.” The guy was actually
trying to flirt with her! Roxanne smiled at him, doing her best to look like a
hopeful, often passed-up female.

“You’re not so bad yourself, you know. I sorta like your
type, not all big with too much muscle, nice and compact. Bet you got runner
type muscles,” Roxanne said, using one of those southern North American accents
she’d learned during her summers in the rebel training camp.

“Yup, I run every day. See?” The guard came close enough,
pulling up his shirt to show a spindly chest covered with a tattoo of Betty
Boop.

“Wow, where’d you get that tattoo? I’ve been looking for
that tattoo pattern all over. Do they do tattoos outside the party tunnels?”
Roxanne asked, as she inched closer to the guard.

“Sure, we got a great place right here in #3. We don’t get
out much though. I was born right here in #3; I never been to the Roppongi
tunnels. What are they like?” he asked.

“Well come closer and I’ll show you one of my special
tattoos; it’s the one I got that last time in the party tunnels. Maybe you’ll
even like where I got it.” Roxanne glanced at her butt, intimating that she had
a tattoo to show him in a place he might enjoy examining, personally. He smiled
back at her; bless his lecherous little pea brain.

As the guard inched closer, Roxanne wrapped her legs around
him slowly, sensuously. She had to get a full grip before she made any quick
moves. He liked it; smiled like he thought she was in to him. Then she snapped
like a rattle snake, tightening her legs around the guy’s midsection, enough to
knock the breath out of him. He was surprised, fought like crazy; he tried to
reach for her eyes. And just before he passed out, he looked closely into her
face, eyes wide, filled with wonder…then she felt the bulge under his pants.

“Your face is melting. Oh my god, you’re her! You’re so
beautiful! Oh my god, I died and went to heaven. You’ve got eyes to die for.”
The skinny guy passed out with a smile on his face and a big wet spot in the
crease of his pants.

 “Well, that’s a good way to pass out, I guess,” Roxanne
mumbled, as she did a feel-up of his body, searching for the keys.

Of course, they were in his front pocket, next to that wet
spot. She pulled the mass of gooey wet keys from his pocket, wiped them on his
shirt, unlocked her shackles, and did up the skinny guard, careful to use one
of his socks as a gag. Then, she took his weapons and jacket. It was a little big,
but not too unbelievable. She’d pass as a guard from the back, at a distance.

“Sorry little guy, sleep tight, and dream of your own
special heaven.” She kissed Mr. Skinny on the cheek, unlocked the door to her
cell, and peeked out into the hallway.

It was empty.

Roxanne slid out the door, grabbing her boots from the guard
station, as she crept down the hall and turned the corner. She could hear
voices, people approaching from the other corridor. She opened a random door to
someone’s office, stepped inside, and locked the door. She turned, and that’s
when she noticed Gimlet’s clothes, folded neatly on a chair, next to the sofa.
Gimlet had been here, and she’d been stripped naked, maybe raped. Roxanne was
going to have Rose eat the guy’s face. But for now, someone was approaching her
hiding place.

“The dog got outside, you morons; you want a pet, it stays
inside. Now get back to your stations. I got her right here with me, just had
to take her to the toilet. And, no you cannot guard her. You lost her the last
time, dumb ass. I guard her until we do the trade with Leo.

“Yes sir, Mr. Yac. Should I contact him?” the head guard
asked.

“He’s already been contacted; will trade direct, Gimlet for Roxanne
for R&R stocks. You’ll get what you want, as long as you don’t screw up
again. I’ll find Roxanne Smoot. And, I’ll take this stupid dog with me.” It was
Chad Yac. He was dragging a bound and gagged Gimlet down the hall, closely
followed by a trotting, happy, drooling black Doberman.

“Yes sir, how would you like us to proceed?” The large
senior guard regarded Chad’s prisoner with some pity. He could only imagine how
many times, and in how many ways Chad had done her. And because Gimlet could
read his mind, she almost laughed.

“Someone’s got to get into bubble-stop #4…me. I’ll nab Roxanne
Smoot from the Eldridge bar at #4. I’ll do it myself. I’m going to bring this
prisoner to #4, demand a trade for Roxanne; tell that bitch it’s her or I kill
the prisoner. Either she agrees to be Leo’s pussy for life, or I kill her little
sister. She’ll do it; sell herself for her best buddy little sister. Then we
slave that red haired piece of cunt to Leo for all the R&R stocks we want.
I hear he’s obsessed with her, will pay anything. I’ll get Roxanne Smoot. But
do not, I repeat, do not approach Leo Songtain yourself. I’ll do the
negotiating. You got it?” Chad turned and kicked Gimlet, who cried out pitifully.

“Yes, sir, I got it, sir. But we got us another issue. We
caught some ugly prisoner creeping around in the back tunnels. I guess she’s
the owner of that dog. You want to check her out, or should we just eliminate
her now?” the big guard asked, leering at Gimlet.

“What does she look like? Will she bring anything on the Blacks?”
Chad was not particularly in favor of killing some poor person in need of
shelter. Maybe she belonged in the sewer city, or maybe, just maybe, she was
Roxanne Smoot in a fat suit. Chad had to figure out a way to get Roxanne
released without drawing suspicion from the pirates.

“She’s about as ugly as they come, and fat. I suppose she’d
bring some change as a domestic in low management housing or something. You
want me to do that. Sell her that way?” the guard asked, while picking a piece
of leftover food ball from his back tooth.

“No, we owe the sewer city council for safe passage taxes. Bring
her to me. I’ll trade her to the sewer city folks as partial payment. Tell them
they can deduct her from our bill.” Chad kicked Gimlet again, eliciting a cry
sounding like genuine pain, and walked off dragging his prisoner behind him.
Luckily Chad had padded her stomach with Leo Songtain’s all-use bubble-type
crap-wrap.

They’d planned it of course, up top, right after explaining
the plan to Dorian. He had to know first, that his daughter was not in trouble,
unless you considered she was in love with a clone soldier. Her mom would go
nuts over that one; that’s more or less what her dad had told her. But second,
because Dorian had to hack into the stock markets to peel off a billion R&R
trades without being noticed. He’d have to do it over several days, and with
Michael Segev’s help, by creating some sort of stock market diversion. Dorian
then contacted Segev, who after his Kabuki kill, just so happened to be at one
of the stop-over docks in #3.

Segev had done this once before for Dorian. He was not sure
how he’d done it, did not ask. Dorian then nixed getting Leo Songtain involved,
too complicated; he said he’d get them the R&R stocks directly, for the
pirates’ promise not to bother Roxanne on her rig hauls ever again. And of course,
it went without saying, they’d never ever touch his daughter again or he’d
munch them with a re-targeted laser recon satellite. No one messed with the
daughter of the world rebel leader.

There was of course, a catch.

“If you tell the pirates or anyone where those stocks came
from or anything about the rebels, the deal is off, and I’ll send Dina and my
alpha team in to fry all of you, pirates and clones. Do you understand, Yac?” Dorian
was uncharacteristically rude. No one messed with his daughter.

“Yes sir, I understand,” Chad replied.

“I can make no promise that Dina will not kill you and your
clone mates eventually. I can delay the shipment of your family to Las Vegas
for one week; you have one week to rescue your family,” Dorian told Chad, and then
gave him bot-com access to Michael Segev if they needed a miracle from the
devil.

“Close the open line, Mr. Yac. I will speak to you alone
now.”

Dorian talked in private to Chad, regarding Chad’s
relationship with his daughter. That conversation remains a secret to this day,
but Chad was very pale and serious when he gave the com back to Gimlet.