Wednesday August 17 2086
The Manor, Massachusetts
10:45 AM
Courtney Cruz was drifting off to sleep in her private room of The Manor when her wrist-comm went off. "Call from Vid Livingston. Call from Vid Livingston. Call from-"
Courtney shut it off and sat up, groaning. She had been up all night on the phone with techies, ordering them to cover up the potentially fatal article she had unearthed.
It glared at her from her MindBubble as she raked frantic fingers through her wild hair. "WILD CAT BEHAVIORIST ACCUSES CLONED BEEF OF HEALING TIGER'S REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM", screamed the headline. Courtney sighed. What a disaster. That Nadia Chase had insulted her work and accused her of lying about her mission to save lives was enough, but to do it while delivering tiger cubs effortlessly, despite having never done it before? If she hadn't been so harsh, Courtney would admire the confidant and capable woman. But to question her ethics was the declaration of a war that Courtney was determined to win.
The wrist-comm somehow unsilenced, screaming, "Call from Vid Livingston, call from Vid-"
Courtney accepted the call. "Vid? What is it?" she asked, preparing for the worst. Vid would only call if a deal fell through, potentially costing Courtney thousands of credits.
The camera-shy techie waved. "Hi, C? I, um, needed to show you something I found. I had my guys remove all ripples of the article on the Datastream, and then Arre found an anonymous drop to Global News Network- someone sent a copy of the article. I've been pulling strings to get them to drop it, but I don't have enough power- they're going to release it at noon." He bit his lip nervously, obviously expecting verbal abuse from Courtney.
She sighed and massaged her temples. "How long do I have?" she asked.
Vid replied, "Thirty minutes if you're lucky. GNN blocked my calls- this is going to take some serious bribery."
Courtney grinned. "It happens to be that the News Director owes me several favors. Thanks, Vid. I'll send a tip to your account." She shut off the commlink and called a number.
A cool voice replied, "What do you want, Cruz?"
She smirked. "Remember those files I sent you from The Manor?"
The voice sighed. "What do you want?"
"I need you to stop that big story about The Manor that was anonymously sent to GNN this morning."
"Look, Cruz-"
"Did I say that you had any choice in the matter? You owe me a favor. I'm cashing it in. A deal's a deal."
There was a long pause. "Fine," the voice responded begrudgingly. "I'll see that it's done."
Courtney ended the call and curled up with her pillow, grinning like a cat that had just caught the mother of all mouses. Satisfied, she drifted off to sleep.
⦓⦔
Wednesday August 17 2086
BASE, New York
11:37 AM
Nadia Chase tapped her foot impatiently. She was waiting for a mysterious person going by the name of Charlie to show up; the only clue was that he would be in a navy blue suit. The meeting was supposed to take place outside the BASE front doors so that Nadia could have the illusion of safety; surely Courtney wouldn't place a hit on her? Nonetheless, this Charlie was late- so much for first impressions.
A hover approached Nadia, its sleek black hull gleaming. It was several models more advanced than anything anyone working at BASE could afford, with a futuristic design and throbbing with power. The blue glow around the windshield revealed that it was a Vortex, a luxury hover brand. Who was this Charlie, to be able to afford a Vortex?
A teenage girl with close-cropped blond hair stepped out of the hover. "Nadia Chase?" she asked. Nadia nodded dumbly as she took in the expensive dark blue suit.
"I'm Charlie. Thank you for coming to meet with me today. I have a proposition that I think will interest you greatly. Get in, but do watch your step- this is a new hover and she's rather wild sometimes." The girl's New Providence origin was given away by her overemphasis on pure vowels.
Nadia carefully stepped in, admiring the lush interior of the Vortex. This is the closest you'll ever get to being rich, she told herself. No matter what the outcome of the ride, Nadia was determined to enjoy the luxurious vehicle.
She finally found her voice and asked, "So you're the mysterious Charlie?"
The girl nodded. "That's me. Charlie Liess."
"Liess. Like Liess Corporations?" Nadia connected the dots. Charlie cringed slightly.
"Yes. You can see why I don't go by my last name very often. It tends to intimidate people." The young woman sighed. "It's hard to remain anonymous in a world demanding a unique identity."
A wistful expression drifted onto Charlie's face, and Nadia felt uncomfortable, like she was intruding on a deep, intimate part of the teen's life.
"I'm sorry, but- what did you call me here for? I can't imagine I would be of any use for a biocorp like Liess…"
Charlie laughed dully, waving her hand as if batting a fly away. "No, no, you misunderstand. Liess isn't interested in you- I am. You see, you haven't realised it yet, but there is about to be a media reveal on Courtney Cruz and the truth behind The Manor. And you are the final piece of the puzzle, the key of my thesis if you will."
Nadia stared at Charlie blankly. "I'm just a wild cat behaviourist, how could I be of importance at all?"
Charlie gave her a sly grin. "Would you like to come over to my apartment in NYC? There's a lot to explain…"
Despite an urgent tugging in her chest that seemed to be telling her otherwise, Nadia agreed, intrigued. What could she possibly offer the rich girl that couldn't be bought?
As if she could read Nadia's mind, Charlie turned on the news. "Before you agree to anything, watch this."
Nadia turned her attention to the MindBubble. A chirpy young woman was reporting the release of cloned corn- the latest in a series of developments ranging from chickens to soybeans. "At the rate they're going, humans are going to be cloned in three years," muttered Charlie under her breath.
Nadia turned to her, surprised. "You're against all of this madness, too?"
Charlie nodded.
"I thought I was the only one," Nadia said. Charlie laughed warmly.
"Nadia- may I call you Nadia?- there are thousands of us."
Us, Nadia noted. It was most likely, then, that Charlie was using her wealth to fund actions against the widespread cloning of animals and crops.
Charlie focused on the screen as the reporter began the next story. "And now, for our noon special story, there are allegations against the HCBA's new cloned cattle. A scientist at BASE accused Courtney Cruz's legendary cattle to be more than just superior, claiming that there is something in this cloned meat that enabled a tiger to heal her reproductive system and give birth. While the story is still under investigation, new reports will come every hour as we follow this engrossing tale. This is Darla Dare with GNN, giving you the news as it comes!" Charlie snapped her fingers briskly and the MindBubble disappeared.
Nadia stared at the blank wall, shaken. Charlie shook her head solemnly. "You gave a statement to a local BASE news team at five in the morning. Courtney Cruz's team was almost immediately hushing it up, but I found and saved the article before it was dissolved, and I sent it to GNN. Of course, Cruz called in a favor to have it cancelled, but Liess Corp holds a large portion of GNN so I simply told the News Director that I wanted the story published, for a raise of 18 thousand credits." Charlie sat back, a proud smile dancing on her face.
"Eighteen thousand credits." repeated Nadia dully. "You sold my life for eighteen thousand credits."
The smug smile faded slowly as Charlie realised what Nadia had said. "What do you mean?"
Nadia sighed. "I'm going to be hunted down by the media hounds until they get a statement out of me. Then, Courtney Cruz and The Manor are going to sue me until I'm in debt with billions of credits. They have the power to destroy my life and make sure I never get a job with any self-respecting biocorp ever again. And then I'll be exiled to the Moon. Charlie, you think you're doing something right by exposing Cruz and The Manor, but you aren't. Not all of us have the power to sway the media and limitless funds."
Charlie stuttered, searching for something to say. "I can- I can help you. I'll pay the lawyers, shut the media up, make sure you get jobs-"
Nadia shut her eyes warily. "And then what, Charlie? I don't want to be indebted to anyone, most definitely not someone with your kind of influence. Sure, I can get a job, but people will talk. I just need this story to be gone."
Charlie nodded slowly, then whipped out her wrist comm. "Vee? I need a favor," she began, then rattled off a series of numbers that made no sense to Nadia. She listened to a voice on the other end for a while, apologised, thanked the person, and hung up. "I think I fixed it," she said.
Nadia blinked. "Already?"
Charlie shrugged. "Yeah, I know people who can scrub the story from existence. Best hackers ever. It's simple enough, five thousand credits and it never existed."
"Five thousand? That's my monthly salary at BASE. You're spending that much on me? I can't afford to pay that back, you need to cancel it, I don't need your help-"
Charlie patted Nadia's arm reassuringly. "No need to pay me back. Call it an apology, for me nearly fucking up your life."
Nadia slumped back into the cushioning seat, letting the tension gripping her chest melt away. "I suppose I should be thanking you profusely," she said.
Charlie laughed. "You can repay me by coming to my apartment. I'm working on this project…"
Nadia watched the girl explain her goals with a nearly manic, childlike energy, and wondered why she felt drawn to a person that threw around more money than she made in a year like it was nothing.
⦓⦔
Wednesday August 17 2086
The Manor, Massachusetts
1:46 PM
Esme Powers fumbled with the syringe in her hand, hiding it from view as she walked into a public restroom at the ground floor of The Manor, which housed the HCBA. This was it, the base of all cloning operations on the globe.
Esme could almost smell the wealth in the air. It reeked of betrayal and stolen ideas.
As she entered the restroom, her reflection in the mirror surprised her. How long had it been since she had walked with that spring in her step? At least ten years. That was when she had been exiled to the Moon and sunken into the deep depression she had only recently cast off, just as her work was completed.
Esme's jaw tightened and the muscle under her left eye pulsed as anger welled up inside her. She had spearheaded the HCBA's first cloning operation, back when they used guinea pigs and pea plants instead of cows and soybeans.
Esme entered a stall and gripped the syringe tightly, then injected it into her neck. After a split second of excruciating pain, her face went numb. The disguise had kicked in.
Esme wiggled her way into the grey suit she carried in her oversized purse. It was crucial that she played her role convincingly in order to get into the lab.
She stepped into a pair of sensible shoes that subtly boosted her height by three inches and groped around in her purse for the wig. It was darker than her curly brown hair, and naturally straight. It framed her face, made her look like a twenty-five-year-old instead of a woman approaching 145.
The final step, coloured contact lenses that also recorded video footage. Eye pigment injections were easy to get- most hair salons offered them- but Esme didn't want to change her eyes permanently. And, besides, she needed to be able to play back her entire mission after it was completed in order to relish in her genius. HCBA would regret stealing her work. She would make sure of it.
Esme left the bathroom a completely different woman. The ID access tag around her neck was a fake bearing the name of Irene Loev, a nonexistent persona Esme created many decades ago in case she needed a new identity. Irene was writing a book on the journey to agricultural cloning, and that was hopefully enough to convince an overeager scientist to let her into the lab so she could take photos for her book.
There was a large commons area where scientists milled about, hovering near MindBubbles and racks of caffeine stimulants. Esme purposefully walked to the center of the room and activated her camera, taking wide, sweeping shots of the bustle.
After a moment, one of the white-coated scientists noticed and approached her. "Do you have clearance to be in here? News crew aren't supposed to enter the second floor." Esme noted the glowing blue insignia on his coat that marked him as a mid-level lab worker. Perfect.
She glanced up at him. "Hi! I'm Irene Loev, and I'm researching a book on the HCBA. You might have heard of my Pulitzer winner, As the Crow Flies? It's about technological advancements in flying weaponry."
As she expected, the man nodded. "Ah, yes, Irene Loev. I've heard you're big in scientific literature." She beamed at him.
"You've heard of me? I'm flattered. But I'm here today to interview people about the HCBA's work. Would you be interested?"
The man grinned. "Absolutely. My break ends in fifteen minutes- I'll get you access to the labs so I can show you what we do. What's the focus of the book?"
Esme fluttered her eyelashes, knowing that every move was crucial. "Cloning. It'll explore the history of agricultural cloning and I need lots of quotations from many important people."
She thought the important people part was laying it on a little thick; after all, anyone with a first-level AI implant could see that he was no Einstein or Keller, but the lab worker became flustered and nearly dropped his cup of stimulant. "Absolutely. Let's get you a pass right away."
Even though she had already turned on her camera, Esme asked, "Can I record now? I want this to be as in-depth as possible." It was better to give him the illusion of control.
He nodded, slightly dazed by the attention. "My name is Mack Lawrence. That's M-A-C-K-L-A-W-R-E-N-C-E, in case you need to spell it out in your book."
Esme gave him a tight smile. "No need for spellings; I can find you on the Datastream."
Lawrence, taking this as her flirting, boldly said, "Can I have your track code? You can add me on DigiLife."
"Let's get this interview done first, okay?" Esme replied, smiling through her tightly clenched teeth. The disgusting man was already reeled in- she had to keep him waiting so that she could get all the information she needed.
Mack steered Esme to the visitor port, giving his security code. Esme memorised it. Really, it was as if the security team wasn't even trying to hide anything from her. Of course, Esme Powers was dead according to every government agency that mattered.
Mack Lawrence handed Esme the visitor badge to display. It read Access to Lab I - V. "How many labs are there?" Esme asked innocently.
"Seven," Lawrence said. "One is the lowest level, a classroom for trainees. Two is for low-level scientists, mass production of predetermined clones. Three is for plants, Four is for animals, Five is for new technology, and Six is for- well, only Courtney Cruz and her team know. Seven is only for Courtney- it's the highest security."
So Esme had been given access to everything she needed. Perfect.
"Where do you work?" she asked Lawrence.
"Four," he replied proudly. "I have my own team and everything. I'm up for a promotion again, but they might not move me to Five because I majored in bioengineering with a focus on animals. Have I mentioned that I love animals? Oh, yeah, I've got two pets right now. One of them is a miniature leopard cat- she's one and a half pounds, her name is Petite- and the other is a ferret with wings. Paid 2500 credits for her."
Esme nodded politely, eyes glazing over. Out of all the labbies to approach her, why had she been given the most talkative one?
Lawrence continued to talk about the lab and his job and everything from beluga whales to virtual ski trips in New Providence, often changing direction randomly. He led Esme to Lab Three and introduced her to one of his friends, a much quieter young man named Earnest. Lawrence talked Esme's ear off the entire time, but she managed to get him to direct her to the completed soybean plant, ready for mass production.
"So, Mack, what's your favourite part of your job?" Esme asked. She nodded along as he carried the conversation by himself, while she carefully injected the disease from a syringe under her fingernail, which had a small S painted on it. She completed the plants in no time; all the lab employees immediately parted for her when they saw the digital notepad and the camera hovering over her left shoulder. She gleaned a surprising amount of information- Mack Lawrence, who was seemingly incapable of shutting up for longer than it took to breath in, told her many things he probably had no clearance to know, and the labbies she asked questions too desperately answered. It was ridiculous what a camera and notebook could do to even the most reluctant scientist.
When Esme hinted that she needed to leave and conduct more research at another HCBA base in Ohio, Lawrence offered to show her around lab Four, as she knew he would. The man was so easily manipulated, she was almost tempted to play him like a rag doll. But Esme knew that she had to be careful, and she might need the hapless labbie again. There were few gifts greater than that of the unknowing informant, Esme thought.
Later, when she left The Manor as Irene Loev, Esme was satisfied. She had completed Phase One of her mission to take back what was rightfully hers.
**Remember to like this chapter and add this to your stories if you want to keep up with Nadia and the gang!