Gene Drifters: The Clone Soldier Chronicles-Book III (24 page)

“I never thought it would be so expensive. She’s just a
stupid rig-ryder, for crap sake.”

“I beg your pardon, sir. Was that a request or do you wish
to partake in polite conversation?” The robot asked Max politely, in that
high-pitched halting voice, borrowed from the ones used in Tokyo subways.

Max had forgotten about the robot receptionist; he’d been
talking to himself.

“No, no conversation. Just get me the vault access to my
three major safe boxes and a private room, if you please.”

“Thank you, and have a nice day,” the bot replied, and
punched in the door release code to a vault containing a wall of safe boxes.

Max hurried inside the vault, found one particular safe box in
the far cubicle, had his retinas scanned to open the vault, and then he
retrieved the small metal box. He took it into the room designated by the
robot, shut the door, and opened his box with the gold key he always carried
around his neck. He took the gold vouchers. He was also supposed to take those
stock receipts but his greed took over. He just could not see handing over half
his brand new race track stocks to the Triad just to get rid of Roxanne Smoot.

And besides, he rationalized, it was a capital offense to
give stocks to non-managerials; it was punishable by a life freeze. The WME did
not want to upset the fragile social order, and Max did not want to risk it. At
least that’s what he told himself, although he’d done too many capitals to
count. Legals always bent the rules. He left the stock receipts inside his safe
box, shut it, and replaced it into the vault wall, holding the door until the
green light flashed the secure re-lock signal.

Max walked from the vault and past the robot receptionist,
who said some polite form of have a nice day. Once back inside his limo with
the security shields up, he placed a com to his hired killer, sent the vouchers
on to the Hong Kong Triad business office via digi-express, and the deal was
completed. He told them he would transfer the stocks to the Triad business
office when the Hang Seng opened on Monday. By the time they found out he
wasn’t giving them the stocks, he hoped Roxanne would already be dead.

Max knew he’d have to placate the Triad when they found out
about the stock no go, but maybe he’d just throw in a car or two from his collection.
He didn’t consider their reaction to his breach of contract. They were just
mafia, not management class. And Max was just too elated all the way back to
his penthouse, because by tomorrow night Roxanne Smoot would be dead; if he
could get her away from Leo and out of the Opus.

And back at the Opus, Roxanne carried a limp Leo to the
couch, placed his head on a pillow, kissed him gently on the forehead, and shot
him with a ketamine/garble-juice dart. When she was sure Leo was out cold, she
retrieved the safe key from his pale little hand.

Roxanne rose from the sofa and walked quietly to the
bedroom, checking to be sure no housekeepers, human or robotic, were about.
Just before she opened the door to the bedroom, she activated a drone
scrambler, a recent invention of Dorian’s. He’d only handed them out to his
security staff last week, and it was only by chance that one of the security
team was in Hong Kong to hand hers off to Roxanne. It was how Michael Segev had
scrambled the tranquilizer drones back at the entrance to the sewer city on
Lanai. They’d be great for future missions, but no doubt would be declared
illegal by the WME…as soon as they found out.

Once activated the scrambler would send pulsed signals to
the busy little nano-drones, with encrypted and boring codes, which would later
be decoded and found to contain voiced readings from an old fashioned paper
phone book listing the numbers of all individuals living in Scranton,
Pennsylvania, in 1973. The original was currently in a glass case in Washington,
DC, at the WME Ancient Hard Copy Historical Museum. The book started with
Aabamamson, and ended with Zyzeckizchisinyskyn, which was pronounced
Zuck
.
The vocal reading went on for 79 hours. No one asked Dorian who had been given
the dreadful job of reading that into code. 

After activating the drone scrambler, Roxanne entered the
security access code to Leo’s inner rooms and stepped into his bedroom. Of
course, the first thing she noticed was the bounty poster. His staff had forgotten
to remove it from the ceiling over his bed. She examined it closely, shaking
her head, not in disgust as it was actually a rather flattering shot. She just
thought the whole thing was kind of sad. She would have taken it down, but she
had a more critical mission, to steal Leo’s secret
Stem-wads
® formula.

It was extortion, plain and simple. They had no use for
facial regeneration at rebel headquarters, because most citizens were mutants
or clones, many of whom could regenerate quite nicely on their own. The secret
formula would go to the bubble-stop #5ers, to be used as exchange for whatever
they wanted; most likely gold to keep the place running. Dorian just wanted to
be sure that Chad, his daughter Gimlet, and all the Yac clan was taken care of.
And Leo Songtain had very deep pockets.

“Get the other key for me, Rose. Toss it to me.” Rose
grabbed the key in her mouth and tossed it through the door where Roxanne
caught it like a tossed ball, turned immediately, and pushed a false handle set
into the left front leg of Leo’s humongous gold-plated, Louis XIII, Versailles
bed. It was not a copy. 

“Okay, let’s see what we have here.” Roxanne pushed the now
slightly ajar wall open, to reveal a normal old-fashioned locking device.

“Dorian said once we unlock this vault we’ll have five
minutes before the security alarm goes off. Too bad he couldn’t get the full
access code to deactivate the alarm entirely. He could only delay the alarm, so
we’ll have to move fast. Are you ready? Once I open it, get ready to get the
hell out of here.” Rose nodded, punched the outer penthouse door to open, and
stood ready to bolt out the door and away to freedom.

“Wait until I attach the formula to your collar, then leave.
Get the hell out of here. Do not, I repeat, do not come back for me. You know
where to go. Ready?” Roxanne slid the gold key into the lock, turned it, opened
the room safe, and stepped over the threshold. An alarm would sound in five
minutes regardless, because she did not have the rest of Leo’s safety code. It
was probably some verbal command, spoken and recognized only when Leo said it.

“Okay, where would he put his secret formula? Oh shit,
there’s so much crap here.” Roxanne scanned over the contents of the room, a
safe vault about one hundred square feet in size, containing drawers, cabinets,
even a closet filled with the hides of long-extinct species. She opened one
drawer, found what looked to be over a thousand 5 carat FL diamonds, grabbed
several handfuls, and stuffed them into the two pouches inside her boots. One
minute had passed, and she still had no idea where to find that formula.

“Roxanne, you have four minutes. Can I help?” Rose asked
from the doorway to the hall.

“No, just let me check all these drawers and files. It’s got
to be here someplace. Dorian said it would be, based on one of his algorithms.
Just let me keep looking.”

“You don’t have time to check every drawer and file,
Roxanne. Think. Where would Leo put his most precious possession, his secret
formula?” Rose responded, checking her paw timer. They had three and a half more
minutes before the alarm would go off, alerting Leo’s rather serious goon squad
of security thugs.

“Let me keep checking. No wait, what is this?” Roxanne stopped.
She noticed a framed, glass-encased picture on the wall of the safe room. But
it wasn’t a picture; it was real, a real t-shirt. It took Roxanne several
seconds to recognize it, her lacrosse shirt from grad school; the one she’d
left in her locker when she finished grad school, right before she disappeared
for a year to do her rebel training at Donner Pass. Leo must have taken it.

“We have three minutes, Roxanne. At least fire up your
sonic. We may have to fight our way out. Should I stay behind and act normal
confused canine or make a run for it?”

“Quiet, I have to concentrate. Okay, it’s someplace hidden
in this wall hanging, but where?”

“Try the boobs, Roxanne; Leo has a thing for your boobs. We
gotta go. We have two more minutes.” Rose was getting ready to bolt.

“I found it!” Roxanne lifted a small sheet of yellowed
parchment which had been inserted into the t-shirt, where her boobs would have
been. Rose was always right.

“Here, take it and get out of here. You know the plan.”
Roxanne attached the parchment containing the
Stem-wad
s® secret formula
into the inside compartment of Rose’s collar, and both took off down the hall
to the lift, in opposite directions. But the alarm went off…and Leo woke up…and
Leo’s security team raced up the stairs.

“They’re here, quick inside the lift, you get out of here.
I’ll go back inside.” Roxanne whispered orders to Rose, who ran down the
hallway in the opposite direction, into the lift.

“See you on the other side. Get the formula to the safe
house. Go!” Roxanne whispered to Rose as the lift door slid shut, with Rose inside.

“Someone’s in the lift. Should we follow them? Maybe it’s
Ms. Smoot, trying to escape,” the security guard shouted from the back stairs,
one floor below. Roxanne made noise, laughed aloud so they would hear her in
Leo’s bedroom.

“No, she’s in Mr. Songtain’s inner rooms. She is secure. But,
the alarm went off. You two, check to see if Mr. Songtain is unharmed. You, go
downstairs to the lobby and intercept whoever is on that lift. Shoot on sight!”
The guard turned to take the stairs down 12 floors, in leaps, fully charged
sonic in hand.

“Stop!” Leo poked his head out the door of his penthouse,
signaling the head of security to cease and desist.

“She’s here with me; I fainted. Everything’s alright.” Leo
looked over at Roxanne who stood by the bar holding her Fueblaster in one hand
and the key to his bedroom in the other.

“Glad you made it back to earth, Leo. You dropped these keys.
I checked out your bedroom, by the way; nice artwork on the ceiling. Good
reproduction of me, but not a flattering pose. Next time I’ll just be keeping
these dark glasses on.” Roxanne tried to sound nonchalant, but her heart was
beating fast. She wondered how Leo woke up so quickly from ten milligrams of
ketamine and garble juice, without sounding like a valley girl, and if she’d
closed the door to his vault.

“Sorry Mr. Songtain, sir; the alarm went off to your inner
rooms. Is anything missing? Would you like us to check?”

“No thank you, that won’t be necessary. She’s right here. I
can see she’s not taken anything,” Leo responded. “And besides, she can have
anything in the entire place; it’s all hers.” He looked embarrassed that he’d
fainted, but mostly that she had seen the bounty poster tacked to his ceiling.

“Sir, it appears that someone has taken the lift and the
door security indicates that someone has left the building. Should we pursue?”

“Yes, but keep a safe distance. If it is Rose, keep a watch
on her. She won’t get far on her own. But, if she goes near the dog meat market
she may end up being served at a banquet. Make sure she’s safe. And don’t
apprehend her. She goes free. It was part of the deal,” Leo ordered, as he sat
up slowly on the sofa, rubbing his head.

“Yes sir.” The head of security nodded to the man next to
him to get it done. He rode the second lift to the lobby, calling the guard
house to have the sniff dogs ready. They’d have to spend the day running after
Leo’s new pet.

After the guards left, Leo stood on shaky feet, put his hand
to his head, and walked over to Roxanne. He looked up at her, rubbed his eyes,
and said, “What did you shoot me with; was it ketamine and garble juice?”

“Yes exactly. Why are you talking to me? You should be out
cold, Leo. Oh I see, you’ve taken the permanent antidote; very efficient of
you.” Roxanne drank half the Fueblaster, wondering how she would get out of
this mess. She sipped another bit of her drink, ran a hand threw her fire red
hair for effect, and said, “I don’t trust you to keep your word, Leo. I knocked
you out so Rose could get away. And now you’re sending your goons after him. I
should never have trusted you to keep your word.” Roxanne tried to add an
indignant tone to sound more convincing.

“No I will, really. I just want to be sure she’s unharmed. Rose
will not be harmed. I will keep my part of the bargain. She gets to go free,
once the guards report that someone has come for her, and you stay here with
me. Really, Roxanne it won’t be so bad. You can have anything you want. I’ll
see that Rose gets back to your father, Eldridge in bubble-stop #4, if no one
comes for her; and I promise never to let pirates bother your rig again. I’ll
even bring your rig here and build you a tunnel track system just offshore, in
the harbor. We could ride together sometimes. You could teach me to be a rig-ryder.”
Leo looked up into those dark sunglasses, and smiled his best hopeful smile, showing
years of thwarted CEO
“I want it-ness
.” Roxanne changed the subject.

“I’m hungry. Let me think about it. And, I let Rose go. You
didn’t. Rose walks. If I hear your men hassle her or get in the way of her
getting back home, I’m gone. Just like that time I disappeared after grad
school. You got that?” Roxanne punched a finger into Leo’s forehead, which ran
mid-chest to her.

“Yes, of course, whatever you say. I just want you to be
happy. Oh yes, dinner; what would you like for dinner?”

Thus began the worst six day tight-rope walk of Roxanne’s
life. But at least Rose was safe.

After exiting the lift to the Opus lobby, Rose signaled via
her collar bot-com so Dorian could disengage the security locks on the outer
doors. The huge, bullet- and sonic-proof, solid metal and epon double doors
slid open on their hydraulics, and Rose bolted, taking off to the left as
Roxanne had instructed. She was talking to Dorian in Dober-speak the entire
time, sounding like a crazy escaped huge black Doberman pet, on a race to get
away from her master.