The Clones of Mawcett (14 page)

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Authors: Thomas DePrima

BOOK: The Clones of Mawcett
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As the guest of honor, Jenetta would be seated at the table with the King and Queen, but before dinner, she was escorted to a room where most of the Royal Family, the Galactic Alliance delegation, and Captains Gavin and Kanes were waiting. Over the next hour, what seemed like hundreds of pictures were taken by a group of photographers. The pictures would be released as the official record of the event, and Jenetta was assured that she'd be able to get some copies of the better images to send to her mom.
As Jenetta and the others returned to the dining room, dinner was served. A small orchestra entertained the guests during the meal and afterwards, but few people danced because the clothes permitted on Nordakia just didn't lend themselves to moving around a dance floor. It might have been possible with the very slowest of Nordakian waltzes, but certainly not with triple time waltzes popular with Terrans.
As Jenetta stood talking with several ministers following dinner, a servant surreptitiously slipped her a note. Written in Amer, the unsigned note asked that she return to where the pictures had been taken. She excused herself and left the party. Upon entering the room, she immediately spotted Prince Chazurz, standing in his freighter captain uniform. She stopped, bowed her head and put her hand to her chest.
“Come in, Captain. And please raise your head. I'm just Captain Phuth Yuixotical again.”
“I was hoping that I'd have another chance to see you before I left, your highness.”
“As did I. I couldn't attend most of the ceremonies. I hope that you understand.”
“I do. The number of newsies and vidcams was phenomenal.”
 “Exactly. When you see me outside the palace, I hope that you'll remember not to bow your head. Freighter captains don't rate such expressions of respect.”
“I'll remember, Captain.”
“I'm sure that you're as anxious to get back to your ship as I am to be aboard mine. I just wanted to stay around long enough to attend the ceremony today.”
“I didn't think you were there.”
“I didn't sit with the family. I was just one of the myriad faces in the civilian audience, and I didn't expect you to spot me. I enjoy the anonymity that I can experience in large crowds.”
“There's a wonderful story from ancient Earth titled 'The Prince and the Pauper.' Written by an author named Mark Twain, it's the story of two identical, but non-related, boys. One, a prince, dreams of playing with the commoner children, while the other, a commoner, dreams of being a prince. They both get a chance to find out how the other lives.”
“It sounds like something I should like to read.”
“If you can't find a copy in the Nordakian archives, let me know. I'll transmit a copy to you.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“My pleasure, Captain.”
“You'd better be getting back to the party now. It wouldn't do for the guest of honor to disappear for too long. Rumors have fleet feet in a palace.”
“Yes, but I'm glad that you came to say goodbye.”
“Not goodbye, just kwetta-shambulaah.” (Til we meet again.)
“Kwetta-shambulaah.” Jenetta smiled, bowed her head, and then turned and walked back to the party.
The party lasted until well past the Nordakian midnight and Jenetta was delighted when she was at last permitted to return to her rooms after saying goodbye to all the guests and thanking the Royal Family for the honors and generosities extended to her during the past month.
The queen asked one final favor and Jenetta didn't see how she could refuse. The request was that Jenetta attend a dinner party to be given in her honor at Higgins Space Command Base. The Nordakian Ambassador, who also happened to be the Queen's cousin, normally felt rather isolated at the space station and had pleaded with her for the favor. Agreeing meant that Jenetta wouldn't be able to trim her hair until after the event, which was to be held in the Nordakian consulate once the Prometheus returned to its home port. Since the consulate was officially Nordakian property, it was subject to all the protocol requirements of the Almuth. With veiled disappointment at having to live with the long hair for several more months, she agreed to attend the function at Higgins as a favor to the Queen.
When Jenetta relayed information regarding the request to Captain Gavin, he immediately granted Jenetta an exemption from Space Command's hair length requirements. She had expected his approval, since Space Command had been so anxious to accommodate the Nordakians in all other matters.
The Galactic Alliance delegation would be returning directly to Earth, relieving the Prometheus officers of the further duty of entertaining them for several more months. A Space Command destroyer would arrive within two days to bring them directly back to Earth.
Jenetta had her last 'assisted' bath in the morning. She would never dare admit it to anyone, but it had been sort of nice being pampered by the three handmaidens during the past month. As with having a steward aboard the Song, once she'd became accustomed to their attentions, it made life easier. Of course, she hadn't permitted Woodrow to assist her in dressing, much less during her lavations.
Once dried and powdered, the handmaidens dressed Jenetta in one of the Nordakian uniforms, her new medal pinned conspicuously over her left breast, for her return to the Prometheus. Her handmaidens combed and brushed her hair until it glistened and then served her a light breakfast. She had just finished eating when a palace page arrived to inform her that the shuttle from the Prometheus was on the Palace Shuttle Pad, and was ready whenever she was. Jenetta took some time to thank the three girls that been both her servants and companions for the past month. All three expressed sadness at her departure and hopes that she would return soon.
Jenetta smiled, nodded, and said, “Kwetta-shambulaah.”
As the shuttle door opened inside the Prometheus' flight bay, and Jenetta stepped down to the deck with the assistance of the shuttle pilot, she knew that she was home again. Even the odorless and recycled air of the flight bay was wonderfully welcome. The ensign on duty in the control booth just stared, open mouthed, at Jenetta in her Nordakian captain's uniform as she exited the small ship. The sexy image of her in the ultra tight skirt, with her corseted waist and high-heeled boots, contrasted sharply with the more androgynous appearance of other women on the ship. She tried to get to her quarters as quickly as possible in order to change her uniform, but she was stopped by friends a dozen times on her way there. She began to think that she should have come during third watch when most everyone was asleep.
Finally making it into her quarters, she didn't waste any time stripping off her Nordakian attire. But upon opening her closet to retrieve a Space Command uniform, she was shocked to find the entire wardrobe of gowns from the planet, and the other five Nordakian Space Force uniforms. All the shoes, uniform boots, underwear and accessories had been sent up as well. She had thought that she was leaving everything behind, but realized now that when she had dressed that morning, the one uniform must have been the only thing left in the closet.
Her stay at the palace had been— interesting. The agonizing constriction of the clothing, and the barely tolerable footwear, combined with the restriction of movement, had been somewhat evocative of her month in the Raider detention center. She hadn't been starved at the palace, but because the corset restricted her intake at each meal, she'd found herself snacking on fruit at every opportunity.
As she hung up the formfitting Nordakian Space Force uniform and donned her comfortable Space Command uniform, she took a deep full breath and thought once again how good it was to be home. Now, if only she could cut her hair...
The Prometheus left orbit for Higgins at 1600, but Jenetta was completely unaware of the departure, having gone to bed in order to be rested when she reported for third watch duty at midnight. She had taken some good-natured ribbing from her friends during lunch. Some complained about finding six-foot long strands of hair in their soup, while others joked about pockmarks in the soft deck matting from Jenetta's stiletto-heeled boots. Neither was true of course.
When Jenetta reported for her duty watch, Commander LaSalle said obstreperously, “Commander, I expect that mop to be regulation length by the time your watch begins tomorrow evening.”
“I'm sorry, Commander. The Queen of Nordakia has requested that I attend a state dinner at the consulate on Higgins Space Station. I must leave my hair long until then, as much as I'd personally prefer to have it cut back to its former length. The Captain has extended a special exemption from the hair length regulation in order to comply with the wishes of the Nordakian Royal Family.”
Commander LaSalle glared at her, trying to keep her temper in check. Finally she said, “At least do something with it so it's not flying around everywhere. You have the bridge, Commander.”
“Aye, ma'am.”
Jenetta climbed into the command chair as Commander LaSalle left the bridge in a huff. She draped her mane over her left shoulder and grinned to herself enigmatically as she stroked it. LaSalle had been openly antagonistic since their second meeting, and if the Captain's exemption from the hair regulation irritated her, then Jenetta would permit herself to be privately amused by it.
* * *
Jenetta had no desire to disturb the Captain after he had retired for the night, but the receipt of a Priority-One message left her no choice. She sidestepped the usual procedure of going through his steward for after hours contact. Activating her CT, she said simply, “Captain Gavin. Priority-One.” When the Captain's sleepy voice acknowledged her call, she said, “Sir, we have a Priority-One message for you from the Higgins Communications Officer.”
“Put it through to my office com unit, Commander.”
“Already there waiting for you, sir.”
“Very good, Jen. Thank you. Gavin out.”
“Carver out,” she said, and then sat back in her chair.
Five minutes later the Captain called Jenetta, and after the completion of that call, she immediately ordered the astrogator to plot the shortest course to Mawcett. She then ordered the helmsman to lay in the course as soon as it was computed and proceed there at top speed.
The Captain hadn't explained the reason for the sudden course change, and, as captain, he wasn't required to. During her watch, Jenetta made sure they continued to Mawcett at the ship's top speed of Light-412. She knew that the Captain wouldn't have ordered the ship to exceed Light-375 without excellent reason.
The_Clones_of_Mawcett
Chapter Eight
~ January 12th, 2270 ~
Traveling at Light-412, the Prometheus reached Mawcett just twenty-six days after receiving the message to redirect. Upon their arrival at the planet, and determining that there was no extra-world threat, they immediately assumed a standard orbit. Using ship's sensors, the entire planet was scanned for dangerous situations, but other than a couple of particularly nasty storms at the poles, nothing unusual was detected. Lastly, the ship's optical capability was used to closely examine a region identified by the Captain. But again, no signs of danger, conflict, or unusual behavior were detected. Taking less than two hours to complete the investigation after entering orbit, the next step was to send an investigative team down to the planet.
Gavin selected Jenetta to accompany him to the surface to assess the situation, leaving Commander LaSalle in command of the ship. Two Marine Assault Transports were readied to convey a company of Marines to support the landing party.
A mere twelve minutes after leaving the Prometheus, both MAT pilots touched their ships down, seconds apart, at the coordinates provided by Gavin. The descent was so rapid that one might have thought Jenetta was piloting, her love of speed a matter of court record since her court martial. During cross examination she had mentioned her early morning maglev sled rides through the Vordoth's six-kilometer long spine at maximum speed. But in this case the rapid descent was Marine SOP when dropping into a potentially hot LZ.
The planet was rated Earth class, meaning that it had a roughly 80/20 nitrogen/oxygen atmosphere with less than five percent of non-toxic trace gases, a mean temperature between 5 and 25 degrees Celsius, a mass between point .7 and 1.3 that of Earth, and a radius not less than .8 nor more than 1.2 that of Earth. For this reason, the hatchway doors were flung open and marines began leaping to the ground even before the two small ships had begun to settle onto their landing struts. Thirty-one Marines, with weapons at the ready, immediately secured the landing zone, much to the complete astonishment of civilians gathered a short distance away.
The shuttle from the Prometheus touched down seconds later. Gavin was the first to step down, quickly followed by Jenetta, who took up position on his right side. A laser pistol hung from her right hand, her finger resting on the trigger guard.
When the Marine captain signaled that no weapons were in evidence, and there didn't appear to be any imminent threat, Jenetta holstered her pistol and relaxed slightly. The Marine officer, Marine Captain Jefferson Greene fell in on the Captain's other side, his sidearm un-holstered, but pointing downward.
One of the civilians, his eyes flicking frequently to Greene's un-holstered weapon, took a step forward as the trio reached them, and said, “Welcome, Captain Gavin. Space Command sent word that you were on your way. I'm Doctor Edward Peterson, the senior member at this dig site.”
“Doctor Peterson, you declared a stage-one emergency here, but we haven't detected any sign of danger; neither here nor anywhere else on the planet.”
“Yes. I apologize if my message was misinterpreted, Captain. I couldn't explain the problem in detail because we feared it might be intercepted by the wrong parties. There is a major problem, but no immediate, life-threatening danger. If you'll come with me, I'll explain. But first, allow me to introduce my associates.” Turning, and pointing to each as he introduced them, he said, “This is Doctor Anthony Ramilo, Doctor Barbara Huften, and Doctor Dakshiku Vlashsku. In the back row are our assistants, Bruce Priestly, Harold Deeds, Lynn Steen, Glawth Djetch, Maria Tomallo, Lisa Cheney, and Edmund Hill.”
Gavin nodded. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen. I'm pleased that you all appear to be well. This is my second officer, Lt. Commander Jenetta Carver, and Marine…”
As soon as Jenetta's name was mentioned Doctor Vlashsku and his assistant Glawth Djetch gasped loudly, and immediately dropped to one knee. They bowed their heads, and pressed their closed right hands against their chests while their skin began to flash wildly in shades of blue, green, and light yellows.
Gavin, whose time at the Nordakian palace had been limited, was unaccustomed to such reactions, but he recovered quickly and continued, “Marine Captain Jefferson Greene.” When neither Doctor Vlashsku nor Glawth Djetch looked up, or even moved, Gavin looked to Jenetta and nodded.
Jenetta took a step forward and addressed the two Nordakian archeologists in Dakis. “Gentlemen, please stand up and raise your heads.”
“Please forgive us for not recognizing you immediately, Captain Carver,” Doctor Vlashsku said once they had risen. “Because of your uniform, and because your hair is so short, we didn't immediately realize your identity.”
“There's no need to apologize, gentlemen. Very long hair hinders a military person's performance. I haven't cut it, but it's wrapped very tightly into a roll at the back of my head.” She turned her head to the side momentarily so the chignon was visible. Selecting her words carefully so as not to offend the Nordakians, she added, “The uniform I'm wearing is standard issue for Space Command officers. I'm permanently attached to Space Command so my Nordakian uniform is only to be used for special occasions.”
“We understand, My Lady. Is there anything we may do to serve you?”
“Not presently, thank you.”
Both men pressed their closed right hands against their chest and bowed their heads briefly as their flashing began to slow. Jenetta smiled and acknowledged the salute with her open hand, then looked towards Gavin who was looking at Jenetta with one raised eyebrow and a wrinkled brow.
Turning back towards Doctor Peterson, Gavin said, “You were going to explain your distress call?”
“Uh, yes––,” Doctor Peterson replied, still obviously distracted by the little drama that had played out in front of him. He had traveled extensively during his lifetime, and seen much, so he was seldom as surprised as he was now. He didn't speak Dakis, and wasn't carrying a translation device so why two of his dig site team members should drop to their knees in apparent reverence to a Terran Space Command officer was unfathomable. He knew she was Terran because, with her hair pulled tightly back, her ears were clearly visible. “Uh, please follow me.”
With Doctor Peterson leading, and the three military officers close behind, the entire group moved towards the entrance of the underground chamber. The two Nordakians practically knocked Edmund Hill over as they rushed past him so they could walk directly behind Jenetta while Doctor Peterson gave a short commentary about their dig site discoveries and led the way to the tunnel. The walls, ceiling, and floor of the passageway had been scrubbed clean of all dirt. No national monument on Earth ever presented a more pristine appearance. As Doctor Peterson escorted the group into the circular chamber, he turned to face them, so as to gauge their reactions.
Captain Gavin, Jenetta, and Marine Captain Greene let their eyes take in the equipment lining the walls of the room. Illuminated indicator gauges measured unseen activity, and small lights winked incessantly.
“What have you built here, Doctor?” Gavin asked.
“Nothing, Captain. We found this just as you see it. Well, not exactly as you see it. When we first arrived the machinery was all inactive.”
“You mean that this facility was already in place? In this condition? I was informed that the planet's civilization has been extinct for almost twenty thousand years?”
“That's the MAE assessment. We were as astounded as you are by this find. This room has somehow survived for thousands of years without any visible signs of decay. The metal door protecting this complex is some kind of unknown alloy.”
“I see. Very interesting, Doctor. I'm sure that scientific and archeological minds will be suitably impressed, but it hardly justifies a stage-one emergency distress call.”
“No, by itself it doesn't. Our problem is— um— we can't turn the equipment off.”
Gavin looked around the room again. “It should be fairly simple. Just disconnect the power source you're using.”
“That's part of the mystery. We're not using any power source.”
Gavin looked at Dr. Peterson for a couple of seconds, then looked around the room once again. “You're saying that it's using a twenty-thousand-year-old source of power?”
“Exactly.”
“How did you activate it?”
“We don't know. It was an accident. We're not sure how it was started or who is responsible.”
“I see. Well, I'm sure that Space Command can send a team of scientists to solve your problem. Again, it hardly justifies an emergency distress call of the level that you placed.”
“The power isn't the problem. Well, it is but it isn't.”
“Doctor, I think it's about time you laid your cards on the table.”
“Cards?”
“Just tell us what prompted the distress call.”
“Yes, I—  we—  that is, all of us— umm— this group, were in this room immediately following the discovery. There were three laborers present also, but we were in the center of the room when the power first came on. We were caught in some kind of a beam that— paralyzed us. We have no recollection of what happened next, but we were later informed that we remained unconscious for several hours after the wall receded.”
“What wall?” Gavin asked, looking towards the ceiling.
“According to the three laborers that survived, a clear wall, rather like a solid acrylic substance, rose up here from the floor after we were paralyzed. You can see a faint, circular outline in the floor. The enclosed area then reportedly filled with an unknown gas. The laborers ran for assistance, but when help arrived, the wall was gone and the gas had dissipated.”
“The three laborers that survived? How many didn't?”
“One was crushed to death against the ceiling because the wall carried him up when it rose.”
Gavin looked up at the ceiling again, then around at each of the scientists before saying, “An unfortunate incident, but you all appear to be healthy. Do you need medical assistance?”
“No, that's not the problem.”
Gavin, tired of probing for the simple answers he needed, just stared at Doctor Peterson with a withering look, perfected over twenty-five years. Aboard ship, it was guaranteed to intimidate subordinates and turn them into quivering jellyfish without his having to say another word.
“Okay,” Peterson said, “the problem is that we've been cloned.”
Gavin continued to stare at him in silence.
“A number of times,” the doctor added.
“Cloned? You're telling me that this equipment makes human beings?”
“Not just humans, it also makes Nordakians.”
Gavin was quiet for a minute as he thought. “So you have a maternity ward around here somewhere, filled with infants this machine has created?”
“No, not infants, full size replicas of the original; all with the complete knowledge and memories of the subject. Doctor Huften theorizes that the clones begin as a single celled organism, perhaps created from vacuumed skin cells when the gas is sucked out. Then, with the introduction of an accelerated growth protein, the clone develops to full-size within an artificial womb. We don't know how the knowledge of the subject is imparted to the clone, but it's a hundred percent complete. And every six and two-thirds days now, a new batch hatches.”
“Hatches?”
“Well, whatever you wish to call it. Those eleven doors over there, the ones with the blinking lights,” the doctor said, pointing to them, “open, and fully developed beings step out. A work supervisor, arriving here early one morning, found the first group. He initially thought it was us. And since the group was totally naked, he discreetly slipped back out. But he mentioned it to a couple of co-workers. It didn't take long for the word to get around the camp that we must be having a sex orgy down here, but workers who had just finished eating breakfast knew that we were all still above ground. The labor supervisor informed us of the situation and we rushed down here. That's when we found the first batch of clones. They were trying to reason out their situation.”

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