Chapter 8: Death And Taxes

The port was in chaos. Buildings were destroyed and fires were everywhere. The official landing zone was an amalgam of concrete and steel reinforcing jutting out like jagged teeth. Bodies were everywhere. When the craft entered the atmosphere the radio channels sputtered into life and it was a cacophony of distress signals and people asking for assistance. Bracus chose a small patch of grass away from the destruction and guided the shuttle to land there. He activated his radio communicator.

“This is Bracus, I need to speak to the president, over.” It was a tense five seconds before the reply came back.

“Looks like the network is still working” George’s voice came over the radio.

“What the hell happened here George?” Bracus asked confused.

“It seems our Diane is a living time bomb. She just went nuts and everything just went to crap. She sent out such a powerful psyonic shock wave it brought down planes. Also caused a damn earthquake. Eight on the scale my friend.”

Bracus raised his eyebrow at David as though asking for input. David just shook his head. Even Jason could not offer any explanation.

“Where is she now?” Bracus asked.

“The Masters from the academy took her away and sealed her up in some bunker. Sending you the co-ordinates now.” As it appeared on the screen, Bracus plotted a course. For London.

---

They were met on the ground by troops from the PMC and escorted into the main building. Tremors were felt inside the whole building and panicked staff ran from pillar to post trying to stabilize all the systems in there. David didn’t even listen to what Commander White said as he tried to explain the situation to them. He just needed to see her.

“It seems that she is lucid now, but upon waking, she released an amount of psyonic energy that we could not even measure. Like a high yield EMP going off, shutting down systems. She even upset fault lines everywhere we flew. We had to transport her in a damper just to get her here. And that itself was dangerous.” White explained to Bracus.

“What’s a damper?” Hanson asked Jason in a hushed voice.

“It’s a craft to transport psyonic criminals. The dampening field it projects is like shield, protecting everyone from the psyon’s abilities. Like sound proofing a room if I could put it like that.” Jason said.

Hanson quietly mouthed the word “Oh” in response and kept on walking.

“Where is she now?” David asked, his voice two breaths away from sounding like a whine.

“She is kept in a isolation chamber, deep underground. We can go and see her, but be warned. Any agitation and she could just go off again. We do not know how strong the room is and we really don’t want to test its limits either.” White said.

Reaching the elevator Jason stopped short. He held his head again.

“You OK Jason?” Hanson asked.

“It’s amazing. I can feel her. Inside my mind. She is...downloading my memories.” He whispered.

White gripped Jason by the arm.

“Just let her in. If we resist, then she might get upset. We all let her do it. It’s like she is searching for something.” White concluded as another tremor shook the building.

They all entered the elevator and it descended, David looking down at his shoes.

She sat there. In the centre of the white room. The beams that held the cell together, were made of a plazcrete rubber which allowed the suspended cell to expand or contract as it struggled to contain the forces vying for control inside it. It shuddered and relaxed. Contracted and expanded. On the viewing balcony, even Jason had never seen anyone affect the physical world with raw power like that before. Whether she sensed their presence or not, she stood up and sort of hobbled towards the closest end of the cell where she could view her spectators. David’s heart leapt, seeing her walking towards them and he gripped the bar of the balcony even tighter, his knuckles turning white.

“Can we talk to her?” David asked, trying to mask his excitement.

“You can try. We have and no response was forthcoming.” Commander White replied, still eyeing Diane warily.

David walked up to the microphone.

“Diane? Are you all right? You gave us quite a scare young lady.” David said, smiling at her.

She tilted her head sideways and stared at all of them. Looking over each one. When opening her mouth, it wasn’t what they expected. In a man’s voice, she spoke a language that no one there but David has ever heard. Latin. David stood back from the microphone and looked at Jason. Everyone present looked at her in a mixture of awe and fear. It was clear that only David understood and they all looked at him.

“I don’t understand it all. Mentioned the word child and world. I have to take some time to transla...” David was interrupted.

“You needn’t bother Earthchild, I can speak your tongue.” Diane said with her own voice this time.

“Quit screwing with us! Who the hell are you?” Hanson yelled. Her gaze left David’s and settled on Hanson. Jason gripped him by the shoulder and shook his head in the negative.

“To whom are we speaking?” Commander White tried. Diane smiled, but it lacked any warmth or mirth.

“I will never die. I am the eternal watchman. The rear guard.” Was all she offered. David inwardly cringed. She said those words when she first woke from her slumber. Trembling, David used the microphone again

“Can we speak to Diane?” He asked gently.

“The being you know as Diane has consented to this union. It’s...strange. We have yet to reach full melding. When that happens she can speak for herself.” Diane replied. David shuddered.

“Wait a minute. Are you saying you are two souls sharing one body?” Jason asked. He could not mask the amazement in his voice and Hanson took him by the shoulder and made Jason face him.

“Does this fascinate you? Look at her man, she is a prisoner trapped inside her own body!” Hanson half yelled at Jason.

“Not really Mr. Hanson, It is suggesting a symbiotic relationship. If she really consented as it claims, we will only know when she can start speaking for herself again. In the meantime we must let this play out.” White said. Hanson swore softly and walked over to the entry hatch.

The isolation chamber started to expand and contract rapidly and the viewing balcony vibrated. All of them looked at Diane.

“Release me at once!” She screamed, her voice sounded like two people yelling in unison.

“We cannot until we are certain you are not a danger to yourself or others!” White replied, trying to make himself heard over the rattling of the balcony.

The window closest to her started to crack. White quickly used his communicator.

“This is Commander White. Isolation chamber nine. Push it to full dampening capacity now!”

“But sir the grid might not...” Came back the reply.

“I don’t care! Do it now or we all die!”

The globes on the walls burst as the facility pumped all available power into that one chamber, trying to contain whatever Diane was doing to it. Slowly but surely, the contractions of the chamber slowed to a steady pulse and Diane sat down, clearly exhausted.

“How long can we keep her like this?” Jason asked White.

“Not indefinitely. This is putting a massive strain on the city’s power grid. If we keep it up for a week people’s standard of living will be severely affected. Health care, transport. All that stuff.”

“Best to put her down then.” Hanson said, all the while glaring at Diane.

“Excuse me? I did not just hear you suggest killing her.” David protested.

Hanson gripped David by the collar of his trench coat and drew him sharply towards him. Hanson all but had enough of this freak show.

“Guys please don’t fight.” Everyone stopped in mid-argument and slowly turned to face her.

Shakily she got to her feet, using the window as support. Slowly she lifted her gaze to meet theirs.

“We have reached full union. We are one now.” She said.

“Diane is that really you?” David asked, still held fast by Hanson. She smiled, but clearly still in some kind of pain.

“Yes it’s me David. The other is also here with me. His name is Remus. I have a message from him.”

---

The tests took two days to complete and Diane was deemed safe to leave the chamber. She was not allowed to leave the compound, however. If this kind of thing happened again, isolating her would have to be quick. George paid her daily visits, just talking to her about random things and niceties. Nothing specific really. Just wanted to assess her state of mind. George never really trusted psychologists and he wanted to see for himself. The Mars codex was downloaded in its entirety and all the artefacts that were found were put under lock and key.

Remus surfaced from time to time, but never spoke of the message everyone was dying to hear about. Diane and Remus had some psychological scarring to heal. David insisted that she resumed her post, researching the Martian artefacts, but due to Remus living inside her, she was deemed a security risk. When George issued a proclamation that the Mars outpost would now be abandoned, it caused quite a few frowns. Especially from Bracus.

It was near lunchtime and Bracus was thumbing a vial inside his jacket pocket. It contained a shard that he broke off the Mars outpost Co2 scrubber. He knocked on David’s office door twice.

“Come in.” He said. Upon entering, he noticed that David’s face fell when he saw him.

“Expecting someone else?” Bracus asked, knowing full well he thought it was Diane.

“Not really. Take a seat.” Bracus sat down in a chair opposite David. He took out the vial and placed it on the desk in front of David.

“What’s this?” David asked as he put on his glasses, picking up the vial.

“I suspect its the reason all the clones died on Mars. This is a shard of the scrubber that filters the outpost’s oxygen supply. I need you to analyze it.” Bracus asked David.

“Sure, okay.” David said, his bored demeanour quickly evaporating. He was just as curious as to how everyone just died.

“It would narrow things down if I knew what I was looking for Bracus.” He said as he slipped the shard into, what Bracus thought was a device for molecular analyses.

“You are looking for compound C-10.” James nearly jammed his finger straight through the keypad.

“You are joking right?” He asked, a hint of fear lacing the tone of his voice.

Bracus raised an eyebrow as if saying: “Would I be here if I was joking?”

“It will take a day or two but I will see to it that this gets top priority.” David said as he stuck the vial into his labcoat pocket.

David turned to head out to the lab but stopped.

“Something wrong?” Bracus asked.

“You do realize what this means if it tests positive right?” Bracus paused a moment, searching for an appropriate response.

“No more peace.” He said as he walked out.

---

C-10. A nasty, sly piece of work. Breaks down muscle tissue, renders the human immune system obsolete in a matter of hours and after that liquefies all the internal organs. Takes a person twenty-four hours to die a horrible death. Although this virus does not affect humans. It’s clone specific. Used by human extremists in the first clone rebellion, this bio-weapon was introduced by one of the top researchers in the field of genetics back in the day. Bracus.

Only a hand full of people knew this little nugget. Obviously, Bracus took steps all those years ago and included a special genetic marker into his own DNA that rendered him immune to the C-10 strain. He remembered the first time they used it on a clone stronghold in Rio. It had a hundred percent kill rate. If you are a clone, you’re dead meat. To this day he regrets ever helping the human race in pacifying the clone population. Millions died as a result of his tampering with the human genome. Since then he donned the role of the military man and vowed never to use science as a weapon forever.

When Bracus signed the contract over to the old Earth government, which allowed them to re-clone him for eternity, he never thought he would have to turn against his own kind. Due to the conditioning programmed into his DNA, he remained loyal to the new world order, but still hated the swine who forced him into eternal servitude.

He probably would have been okay with it if they never asked him to develop this toxin and unleashed it upon his people. He cursed his perfect memory, carried over from years and years of experience, he still remembered all those faces of the dead and the dying. Walking over millions of corpses and it was all because of him.

The academy moved Diane’s isolation chamber to the state labs back in New Washington so Diane could still be watched. New Washington’s power grid was a hell of a lot more powerful to sustain the chamber than London’s. She had access to all the common areas of the place but was deemed a security risk, she was not allowed entry to any R&D areas. Which frustrated David to no end, but the government always had the last say in...well...everything.

Remus surfaced occasionally and David and Remus seemed to get on famously. Jason too was often seen chatting with him. Hanson on the other hand refused to have anything to do with Diane, Jason and Remus and only interacted with them when ordered to. This caused a very tense atmosphere in the workplace as they all tried to investigate the Mars attack. They came up with a couple of theories, but no positive motive for the attack or any tangible list of suspects. They had zip. Less than zip. Well, that was until David walked into the lab two days after Bracus gave him the shard.

Looking at the monitor, he slammed the desk hard with his fist, almost knocking a coffee mug over. He quickly printed out the results and ran down to the canteen. He spied Bracus sitting at a table with Diane. Seeing him approach her eyes glazed over and excused herself from Bracus’ company, leaving in the opposite direction. David was slightly taken aback by this.

“What’s her problem? She has been avoiding me for three days now.” David asked as he sat down. Bracus just shrugged noncommittally and motioned at the piece of paper in his hand.

“Ah yes. These are the lab results of that shard you gave me. It wasn’t easy but I confirmed C-10 contamination on this shard.”

“I knew it.” Bracus moaned.

“Now I did a bit of digging and found some skeletons in the closet. About a couple of million skeletons to be precise.”

“Get to the point.” Bracus growled, but he knew where this conversation was heading.

“During the clone rebellions, another clone was commissioned to create this abomination. It was you.” David revealed.

Bracus rubbed his chin.

“Who else have you told?” He asked in a quiet tone of voice.

“No one. I came to you first. How do you suppose this toxin, created by you, landed up at the outpost?” David asked.

“I wish I knew. I was on Earth when the attack happened.” Bracus replied smoothly.

“Do you think I am accusing you of this?” David asked him, a little scared of Bracus now.

There was no one around in the canteen, besides the security cameras, but no one to help him if Bracus decided to turn on him if he thought he was about to be betrayed.

“I realize how this must look. But I can assure you I had nothing to do with this.” Bracus said.

“I know you didn’t, but someone is doing a damn good job of making it look like you did.”

Bracus stood up and David flinched.

“I would not harm you David. If I wanted to it would not be in front of all these cameras.”

David released his pent-up breath and shoved the paper into his pocket.

“I am going to go and see George. Only government officials high up in the chain have access to this kind of thing. And if they had something to do with this...God help them all.”

---

Loud pulses. Hard percussion instruments. Strobe lights and gyrating, sweating bodies all gyrating to the music that whispered to the primal part of the human brain that needs to move. Half-naked bodies rubbed up against each other in this modern version of courtship, while others sat in dark corners of this nightclub, having drinks, or just observing the crowd silently. One man in particular. A serving girl came over to this man, wearing nothing but a smile, a tray laden with drinks. On any other night he might have indulged in taking this girl home and punished her for being so beautifully crafted, but not tonight. He is meeting someone. She put the bourbon on a coaster and leaned into him.

“Your visitor is here.” Was all she whispered.

She took his money and left, disappearing into the faceless mass on the dance floor. He picked up the glass and took three sips. Waiting precisely five minutes he got up and made his way across the dance floor until he came to an elevator. Pressing a button the door opened and took it two floors down where the private viewing booths were. Walking down a dark corridor, he spied two men, guarding the doorway. After padding him down they were satisfied he was unarmed and opened the door for him.

The room was poorly lit, with only one lamp in the corner beside the viewing screen and smelled of sex and cheap whisky. He always hated coming here, but it was the only place they could meet.

“Sit down my friend.” A man’s voice pierced the darkness of the room. He took the voice’s offer and sat down opposite him, and lit a stogie, trying to mask the scent of copulation.

“So it worked I take it.” The bigger man asked, puffing away on his cigar.

“Better than I’d dare hoped. The council has its suspicions of course, but by the time they learn anything of consequence it will be too late for the old relics.”

“This is getting very dangerous George. Especially for me. If anyone found out that I even exist we will both be dead.” The bigger man said, licking his lips nervously.

“The only reason you are still alive and in my good graces, is your DNA my friend. Yours and your slave counterpart. If I could ask Bracus for his DNA he would ask too many questions, and I would be forced to kill one of our best hopes for mankind.” George said.

“Essentially I am Bracus, I share his memories and DNA. I could replace him and no one would be the wiser.” The Bracus clone said to George as he lazily kept on puffing his stogie.

George had considered this option before but decided he needed Bracus’ loyalty more than he needs a doppelganger. Especially one that could not be controlled. He had this Bracus’ compliance conditioning skipped when he cloned him.

“Let’s face it. You are a killer. Nothing more than a hit-man. And you get paid to do a job. Your work on Mars was masterful.” George whispered excitedly.

“What do you hope to gain by overthrowing the council? Without them the world will fall into the old ways again. Chaos, war. Disease.” George took a sip from his brandy before answering.

“War is coming my friend. But this war will not be fought between nations. And mankind must learn to stand on its own two feet. Not follow the religious rantings of dried up old men.” George spat.

The other man chuckled.

“Very clever. Distract the council with rebellion while plotting to destroy them. One thing you have not counted on though.” The clone replied, sipping his bourbon slowly.

“And what is that?” George asked, a confused look on his face.

“Even if we manage to off the council, what assurance do you have that the rest of the world will just follow you no questions asked?” George leaned forward rubbing his hands.

“The rest of the world will not even know they died. They will continue to follow my direction as though being ordered by the council.” George concluded smugly.

George’s self-assurance of his plan has been worrying him of late. Overconfidence has been the downfall of many leaders. Or conspirators. Their only weapon now is misdirection and confusion, until they can strike at the council directly. He made to leave but George stopped him.

“I know that the clones died due to C-10 exposure, but how did you manage to kill the human crew stationed there? I know you are strong and cunning, but fifty?” George asked.

“Diane had found a device that could teleport objects a short distance from the point of origin. It was simply a matter of stalking my prey and when I found one alone I simply teleport them directly into space. No body. No witnesses.” It explained.

George chuckled maniacally. “Remind me not to piss you off Bracus.”

He quickly gripped George by his collar, and drew him in sharply. “Do not call me that!” He hissed between grit teeth.

“Then what should I call you?” George whimpered, almost soiling himself.

“Call me Death.” He said and left the room.