The Catherine Kimbridge Chronicles #8, Replicants Page 10

  “Actually Gunny, I think I can do one better. I’ve instructed my AI to send your HUDs a real-time feed adjusted for your relative position and the direction you’re looking. I’ve also tied everything into an ENO cloud that will take point for us.”

  ENOs where entangled nanite observers. They were microscopic Heshe machines that Cat and the GCP had used successfully a number of times in covert operations. Cat’s enhanced Heshe encounter unit was programmed to create them on demand.

  “Now we’re talking, Admiral”

  Ramirez inched his way forward as his HUD began to display a ghostly outline of the electromagnetic fields surrounding the bluff. The image was slightly delayed as he turned his head from side to side but as he was intending to move slowly anyway it did not present a serious problem. The walls, once they passed it, the initial cloaking barrier seemed to be made of roughly hewn stone.

  The electro-magnetic field tunnel extended for about ten meters. There were several sharp turns that would prevent an animal or Basharite from accidently negotiating the tunnel. It, also, seemed that the further one entered the tunnel the stronger the force fields got. Cat had the feeling that accidently brushing against one near the end of the tunnel would prove painful or even fatal.

  Finally, they cleared the electromagnetic barrier. The stone walls gave way to a gray painted metal. The facility seemed military in nature. The symbols on the walls were vaguely reminiscent of the writing Cat had seen on the Ashtoreth bio-generators. She asked her AI, Cal, to provide a real time translation.

  “I’ve got my Stark’s AI translating these signs,” AG said. He apparently had the same idea as Cat. “What the heck is a ‘Replicant Stockyard’?” The placard he was pointing to seemed to indicate the facility was some type of storage center.

  “I’m not sure,” Cat admitted. “It doesn’t make sense for it to be a logistics center. Why go to great lengths to hide a supply depot?… unless, it’s not for normal activities. This must be some type of contingency warehouse.”

  “That word ‘replicants’ has me more than a little concerned,” Ramirez mumbled softly.

  Cat nodded. “Me too Gunny. Me too.”

  As they moved down the corridor, numerous rooms and hallways branched off. Cat used the ENOs to explore each while they continued down the main corridor. She had them set to scan a wide range of parameters and to report anything anomalous. Neither the ENOs nor Cat’s party ran into anybody in the facility but there were signs everywhere of recent occupation. Cat had her group keep their stealth systems engaged just in case someone was monitoring the base remotely.

  As the ENOs continued their exploration a map of the facility slowly began to take shape. It was an underground warehouse filled with preserved food stuffs, personal weapons, clothing, sleeping gear, medical supplies and a limited number of, what can only be described as, entertainment systems.

  “Does this place strike anybody as odd?” AG asked out loud. His Stark’s stealth systems automatically generated a waveform that muted his voice and instead transmitted it through their local communications network.

  “It absolutely does, Commander,” Gunny Ramirez agreed. “If I had to store up provisions for an army years in advance… this is exactly what I’d be looking to do.”

  “So the question is… where is the army?” AG said to no one in particular.

  “I think they haven’t been born yet,” Cat answered.

  “Admiral?”

  Cat looked at Commander Stone. “Think about that plaque we saw on the way in… ‘Replicate Stockyard’… I think this is a holding area for mass produced replicant soldiers prior to their deployment.”

  “Where are the bio-generators? We haven’t found any equipment beyond a communications room and a medical bay. Even the mess hall didn’t have anything more complicated than a microwave oven.”

  “That gentlemen,” Cat answered, “is the million dollar question. There is another level below us that the ENOs can’t access because of a secured door. I suggest we examine it and see if there might not be some answers to our growing list of questions.”

  Chapter 14: What Are Little Soldiers Made Of?

  JJ was feeling better. First, the cart he was on had been reconfigured so he was now in a seated position. His hands and legs were still restrained but sitting was an improvement. Second, a feeding tray had been attached that he could reach by leaning his head forward. From here he could both sip water from a straw and chew on some type of processed protein bar. He gathered from the texture that it was some type of meat. The flask that had the straw in it yielded a foul tasting water. He was sure it was contaminated but he trusted the billions of top-of-the-line nanites floating around his system to clean up anything too nasty.

  The meat was not too bad. It kind of tasted like chicken but it was the wrong color of green. It didn’t matter. Protein was protein. Fat was fat. Calories were calories. His body needed them all.

  Earlier the Gators, all five of them, had pushed a series of fully loaded gravity carts through what could only be described as a warehouse. Along the way, they collected the Gator equivalent of MREs as well as a large number of weapons and associated ammunition.

  The cart JJ was strapped to, was the only one not loaded up with weapons and food… an oversight JJ was eager to point out to his hosts. He even offered to hold said weapons if it would be helpful. His suggestion was greeted with another broken jaw which he took to mean they were not interested in his suggestions.

  What he was able to do was cut the tip of a finger on a sharp bit of metal. The two Ashtoreth soldiers that were taking turns pulling his cart still had not noticed his one hand was essentially loose. The manacle it had been shackled to was free. He used the bloodied fingertip to leave marks on the walls as they proceeded down the various corridors.

  He still had no clue where they were… or where they were going, but the boasting by his captors led him to believe they expected help. There was apparently a sixth Gator that had been sent to the Ashtoreth detention camp. The word was he was going to recruit assistance from that camp. Personally, JJ had his doubts. First, most of the occupants were civilians. Any soldiers that had been captured had been taken to an isolated prisoner of war camp located on an island called Kurnell, off of the western coast of Ojas. As far as JJ could determine, these Gators didn’t even know that camp existed and he sure wasn’t going to bring the subject up.

  The one time Praefectus Niegar had spent time asking him about military prisoners of war JJ had waxed elegantly about a university on Earth which had a football team called of all things… the Florida Gators. Now, as JJ pointed out, it wasn’t proper football that was being played... It was the American version. That minor distinction aside, football was far more interesting a topic of discussion than the current disposition of soldiers of questionable skill. He was rewarded for his forthright comments with yet another broken jaw. It was a good thing his medical nanites were adept at knitting bone.

  He was thankful the Gators had waited for his jaw to heal before they broke open the Gator equivalent of the MRE and allowed him to eat. He couldn’t imagine trying to chew the dehydrated green chicken with a broken jaw.

  As he finished the last of the green mystery meat he wondered where the dessert was. MRE’s always had some kind of dessert. It could be a heavily irradiated marble pound cake or a freeze-dried oatmeal cookie… or, if you were really lucky, one of those desiccated fudge brownies with chocolate chips… He looked around. There was no dessert. One of those damn Gators must have stolen it! He was about to complain when a commotion interrupted his intended rant.

  The five Ashtoreth were joined by a sixth. This one looked a little worse for wear. He seemed to have a broken hand and was leaking blood from a hole in his shoulder. For some reason, this brought a subtle sense of satisfaction to JJ. The conversation was in whatever language the Ashtoreth used and it involved a lot of yelling and gesticulating. JJ enjoyed seeing the yelling going on. The Gators seemed upset. Thi
s cheered him up immensely. He really wished he had one of those MRE brownies. The show was getting good.

  His enjoyment was cut short when Praefectus Niegar pulled a small weapon from his belt and shot the wounded soldier. He then walked over to JJ with the gun still in his hand.

  “Change of plan my little runt.”

  JJ smiled. “Are you going to shoot me too?” JJ said hopefully.

  “Yes,” Niegar answered. “But only after you have been cloned. You may not be willing to share your thoughts freely… but I can guarantee your replicant will.”

  ***

  As Cat approached the lift to the lower level she sent a flock of ENOs forward into the elevator cage. The mechanism was oddly old-school in that it was a mechanical elevator rather than the type based on gravity plating that she was used to seeing. As the ENOs got closer, she realized what had happened.

  The facility they were now in must have been a Basharite mining complex prior to the arrival of the Ashtoreth. The elevator was a remnant of that time. The Ashtoreth never bothered to replace it as it served their needs just fine. There was another welcomed surprise on the inside of the lift however.

  “Sergeant Hammond has been here… and recently,” Cat announced to the others. “The ENOs have detected his DNA signature in a blood pattern on the wall of the lift.”

  “Has he been shot?” Gunny Ramirez’s question echoed AG’s thoughts.

  Cat shook her head. “I’m not sure… the blood pattern is not random. Its three careful sets of marks. Dot dot dash dash dash, dot dash dash dash, dot dash dash dash”

  “Morse code,” AG noted, “2JJ…”

  Gunny Ramirez asked the question they were all thinking. “What does it mean?”

  “I have no idea,” Cat admitted. “Whatever it is, he felt it was important enough to warn us.”

  The ENOs proceeded down the elevator shaft. The mapping data they provided gave Cat the confidence to proceed. The ride down on the lift did not take long. Cat estimated they traveled down only about twenty meters. At the base of the shaft, they entered a space that was clearly not of Basharite origins. For all intents and purposes they could have been entering a modern starship… of Ashtoreth design.

  “Wow,” was all Commander Stone could say. “Even WhimPy didn’t detect this. It looks like a tram system. It must have some serious shielding going on.”

  Cat looked at the tunnel the tram used. It appeared to be a standard hyperloop system complete with curved glass doors and an inductive track. Right now the tunnel appeared empty. Such systems on Earth used sealed tunnels in which a partial vacuum was created. This allowed passenger and cargo capsules to move at speeds that often exceeded 1200 km/hr. She ran a hand along the wall. Sensors in her fingertips fed data into her Heshe encounter unit. In a few seconds she had her answer.

  “The walls are made of an alloy of bismuth. It has some very unusual characteristics. The bismuth alloy in the walls is orders of magnitude more diamagnetic than the pure element.”

  “Begging the Admiral’s pardon,” Gunny Ramirez said, “but to us common folk… what does that mean?”

  “Bismuth is the only naturally occurring element that we are aware of that repels magnetic fields… that’s what is meant by diamagnetic. Basically the alloy used in these walls forms a natural shield that the Ashtoreth are using to passively hide this facility from electromagnetic scans.” Cat explained. “Unless something along the lines of a full neutron scan was done, this part of the facility would never have been detected. In point of fact, except for pure blind luck, we would not have seen that directed radio packet that gave away the position of this base.”

  “I’ll take a date with lady luck any time she’s willing to step in to help,” AG said responding to her comment about blind luck.

  “As will I, Commander… As will I,” Cat echoed.

  She examined the control panel. There was a ‘recall’ button. She pointed to it questioningly and AG shrugged. Failing to see another option she pushed the button. Nothing happened. She continued to inspect the board to see if there weren’t any other options to try when an indicator on the board began to flash yellow.

  AG looked at Cat and raised an eyebrow. He pointed to the flashing yellow light. “Any clue as to what this means Admiral?”

  Before she could answer, Gunny Sergeant Ramirez made a coughing sound. The two officers turned to look at him. He in turn nodded towards the tunnel. It was no longer empty. A capsule had pulled up to the access gate. The capsule was packed to capacity with Ashtoreth that were all the same age, height and build.

  As the doors opened and the Gators began to exit, Cat noticed that only one was wearing a uniform. All the others were dressed in simple gray robes. She was glad she and her two companions were still cloaked.

  The Gator that worn the uniform glanced in Cat’s direction. His nose wrinkled for just a second and he started to move forward. Cat was suddenly afraid he had somehow seen her despite her personal cloak. She carefully stepped to the side and the officer walked past her to the control panel. He reached a clawed hand forward and tapped the flashing yellow indicator.

  He growled. “Someone has been here… recently. Fan out. Get to the weapons locker and then search the base,” he barked in Ashtoreth. Cat’s encounter unit translated his orders automatically.

  Cat knew they would never have a better chance to neutralize this group of soldiers. They were together and unarmed. She sent a coded signal to the others. “Pointers on heavy stun. Take’m out!”

  Cat, who was only armed with a pistol, shot the officer first. He went down in a heap as a blue beam lashed out of thin air to strike him square in the chest. Immediately one of the other Gators tried to reach for the fallen officer’s weapon. Cat shot him before he could reach it. It must have been a startling sight for the Gators. They had thought they were alone in the room.

  In testimony to their training, the remaining Gators immediately scattered and began groping about for their unseen assailants. In the end, they never stood a chance.

  Commander Stone and Gunny Ramirez were armed with larger pointer rifles. They switched them to continuous fire and swept the room. In five seconds, each and every opponent had been stunned. AG pulled open a cargo pouch on his Stark suit and pulled out some carbon fiber restraints which he and the Gunny used to bind the captives.

  Cat opened a channel to the Yorktown in orbit. Captain Kirkland answered her hail.

  “Admiral, how can the Yorktown be of assistance?”

  “Captain, we have a number of unexpected guests. I suspect they would be more comfortable if they could be moved to Camp Kurnell. Can you have a security team round them up at our current coordinates?”

  “I’ll make it happen Admiral. Can I ask what is their number and current disposition?”

  “There are twenty one in all. They are stunned and restrained on the lower level of this facility. I’m sending you a map our ENO’s generated.”

  “Very good Admiral. I will have a team there in under fifteen minutes. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

  “Negative Captain. The Commander and I are going to do a little exploring. Kimbridge out.”

  Cat turned to the Gunny Sergeant. “Contact Sergeant McDill and have his team head back to the shuttle and await further instructions. I want you to wait here for the Yorktown team. Then join the others at the shuttle. The commander and I are going to see where this tram system goes. Once we’ve located the terminus, we’ll have you and the others meet us there.”

  ***

  JJ was more than a little concerned. The Ashtoreth had an underground replicant cloning facility that could mass produce thousands of identical soldiers in mere days. Already the system had decanted the first couple dozen troops. Each one was identical to the next and each one had the combined experience of all their predecessors.

  In the last two hours, JJ had learned a lot about how the Ashtoreth had come to be in this part of the galaxy. He had learned how the Ashtoret
h Empire had used replicant factories to create and deploy large numbers of troops on demand… and he had learned what their weakness was. The question was, would he ever get a chance to share that information?

  He was now fully immobilized. A replicant technician, whose name was Roc and who had just been decanted from a bio-generation chamber himself twenty minutes earlier, was quickly attaching conductive pads to JJ’s now fully shaven head. When the Gator was finished connecting electrodes to his skull, he pressed a few buttons on a console and the marine felt a gentle tingle on his scalp. If he had to guess, his engrams were being copied.

  As a kid, JJ had fallen in love with vintage 2d television. One of his favorite shows was from a science fiction series that starred a starship Captain and his alien First Officer. The Captain got cloned in one of the episode and decided the only way he could fight it was to foster a sense of rage directed towards his First Officer. The rage was completely out of character. The Captain had hoped that the trick would cause his unsuspecting crew to watch his doppelganger more closely. Of course it had worked. The show had an obligation to return the next week so of course the outcomes were always preordained. Still it was fun to watch.

  JJ wondered if he might try the same trick. His closest friend was Commander Anthony Stone. If anyone would sense a difference it would be AG. He concentrated on everything the man had ever done that was irritating and tried to intensify the feeling of discontentment and rage. It was easier than he expected. AG had given him plenty of material to work with over the years. He started mumbling ‘Mind your own business. I’m sick of your half-breed interference… do ya hear!’ He repeated it with more intensity… ‘Mind your own business. I’m sick of your half-breed interference… do ya hear!’

  The tingling in his scalp intensified to the point of pain. He gritted his teeth. ‘Mind your own business. I’m sick of your half-breed…’ – at this point Sergeant First Class Jeremy James Hammond lost consciousness… meanwhile, the process of creating a replicant continued unabated.