Double Dealing Chapter 1
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Double Dealing Chapter 1
- 1. Doubledealing. My name is Paul-John Rydecker and I am clone. It sounds so clinical, so hollow, so unoriginal. But I am as unique as any of the humans that fled Earth. Now I’m no scientist and I don’t pretend to know how it all works but I can tell you my consciousness has existed for 60 years and I have occupied countless clones of my body. Am I immortal? A question I have contemplated for as long as I can remember. Theoretically as long as I am a contributing member of the community and the resources and technology that makes the cloning process possible continue to exist, my body can be replaced indefinitely. Does that make me immortal? Do I fear death? That’s a lot easier to answer. Unequivocally yes! It’s human nature isn’t it? As you feel the life draining from your body you are overcome with uncertainty. Will the technology do its job? Has the device that streams my memories, thoughts and dreams to a database to be reinserted into my new clone body been working since the last blow to my head? But the most pressing concern to me at this time is did I sign my own death warrant when I made the decision that changed my life forever. The day I walked into an innocuous bar on a run of the mill recon mission. The day I met her. The woman that opened my eyes to a world of possibilities, a world where people are free to make their own decisions, lead their lives as their consciences dictate, not the way they,want you to lead it. I should, at this point, probably explain why I am writing this account of my life. I hesitate only because if this text was to fall into the wrong hands,everyone I have helped, every secret I have learned and shared, every person I have hurt, possibly killed, could become common knowledge. The repercussions from that could be devastating for the people I love. So to protect the innocents in this story I will change their names. I can promise you though that everything else will be a true and accurate portrayal of the events that have lead to this point. I write this account for my son. Of course he is not my flesh and blood son, conception has proven nigh impossible here on Rhyldan. Maybe there is a contraceptive agent in the air here. That doesn’t stop my wife and I trying though. However since he was brought into this world we have taught him everything that they don’t splice in at the cloning facility. There is no man I care about more. I want him to understand why I have done what I will do when I finish this. Now before I get to the end I must start with the beginning.
- 2. Chapter 1 OWON Drones. “Rydecker!”Yells Sgt Garrick.“What the hell are you doing? Forget him. We can clone him later. We must repel these monsters. If they get to Timbertoc’souter walls before the defence turrets are operational, months of work and construction will be lost” “Const…….Construction!But I can save him.”I reply exasperated. What kind of world is it when a man is laying in excruciating pain, is less important than a pile of rocks. “Rydecker! I will have your cloning privileges revoked if you continue to disobey me. Now pick up your rifle and defend the wall” “Go PJ” Groaned PvtSteadson weakly. “I’ll be fine” he coughed up a mouth full of blood. Looking up I take in the horror of the battle field. We areoutnumbered. 8, no wait Steadson is already down, 7 soldiers between the slowly rising outer walls of rock and steel and exposed girders defending the men and women of Timbertoc and 12 or so angry alien creatures. There must be a new nest close by. Perhaps sending out the majority of our trained military to explore this new world was not such a great plan. We have killed one and its dead body is now acting as cover for the unconsciousSteadson and I. Sgt Garrick and the rest of the unit are in serious trouble. They have dug in behind a crude and hurriedly constructed barricade protecting a shallow trench. The most aggressive indigenous life form we have encountered yet is advancing up the gentle slope. Boulders break up the otherwise open grass plain made muddy and heavy underfoot by the unrelenting rain. A thick forest lines either side of the battle field. The air is thick with the sound of gunfire, screaming marines and wailing beasts. Round after round of ammunition slams into the advancing creatures. It slows them but they keep coming. Steadson had managed to draw one of the aliens onto a quickly laid mine. It cost him dear as he was unable to get out of range before the monster tripped it. I don’t think we have enough marines to keep up that tactic. But I have to do something. I grab my rifle and back quietly into the tree line to the right of us. If I can get round behind them I might have time to lay some more mines and then draw them towards a much easier target. Me.
- 3. The giant insect like monstrosities are covered in a rugged tortoise shell coloured armour. They stand 8 or 9 feet tall on 4 long, slim multi jointed legs. The armour appears to diffuse energy weapons impact and the sharp angles and narrow leading edges cause most ballistic impacts to glance off. However if you can get underneath them their long flat oval shaped bodies are prone to the impact of ballistics. Their heads sit just a few inches above the body like a large arrow head. They ignore me completely as I circle round behind them. I try not to look up as I plant a long line of mines. All I can hear is the screams of another man probably being impaled by the razor sharp footless legs of the Quads. That is what I will call them until the naturalists or poets think of something better. As I place the 6th mine, the sound of frag grenades lets me know the Quads are right on top of the rest of my unit. I look up to see the source of the screams. Pvt Roberts’s body is laying face down and twitching in the mud. A good 2 yards closer to me lie his severed legs. I fail to fight the reflex to retch and vomit my breakfast all over the field. “Get a grip Rydecker” I shout as I try to regain my composure. “You got a town defence to save here” Imanage to gather myself and run, shouting like a mad man back towards the rest of my unit. I start firing my rifle into the back of a Quad. As it turns I ready myself for a mad dash back to the mine line. Suddenly a huge explosion erupts behind me. I turn heart in my mouth. I count 8 more Quads advancing from behind the mines I placed.Well 7. It doesn’t take me long to do the maths. I’m caught between 10 aliens on one side and if I’m lucky 2 on the other. My heart sinks and I drop to my knees. The sounds of the battle fade into the back ground as I ponder the consequences of our failure. The outer wall defences are far from complete. The monsters will easily get past them. Just a handful of soldiers are defending Timbertoc’s gate, which is more like a gap in the wall than a gate. If the Quads get past them they will kill everyone and destroy everything, including the cloning facility. “What are you mumbling about Puj?” “Mumbling Aroura? I didn’t realise I was mumbling” “You always mumble while you are writing” “Do I? Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you in my study” “Your study? It wasn’t your study when Joshua was sick all over it the first time he had your home brew. It wasn’t your study when you came back from a hunting trip bleeding all over the place and it isn’t your study every Wednesday when I clean it.” Arourais very strong minded woman. She has to be, she is an educator. She educates the new clones. Clones like me are created in a petri dish and given a life time of training for the roles we were created to fill. We had no childhood. We started life at twenty. Yes I
- 4. have learnt much since I wasfirst bought into this world, most of it through experience or reading texts. Texts I was once forbidden to read. I could have done with an introduction to life like the one my wife gives. Aroura’s job is to orient new clones. Teach them social skills and all the stuff they don’t throw in the test tube. It’s a tough job. She thinks of them as kids and in a way, we are all a bit green and naive when we start our lives, but they are not kids. “OK OK, so it’s our study.” I concede. “What are you writing anyway? More war stories to impress Josh with?” “Not war stories Aroura, A factual account of the most important moments in my life. Josh must know how important the decisions we make are. He must understand why we have made the decisions we made. Ultimately when the time comes I want him to be armed with enough knowledge to make his own, whatever they may be.” “Oh Puj you’re so melodramatic. Are your writings as bad?” “Well probably. You are welcome to stay and listen to my mumblings. Of course you have heard it all before.” “I guess it couldn’t hurt.It’s better I know what stories you are reading to Josh. So where were you up to?” I mentioned before that I’m 60 years old. However my body and mind have been renewed many times. In fact as I’m writing this I’m physically younger than Aroura, who is 25.My mind sharper, but she likes to think she is helping me rememberand I’m happy to encourage it. “Now where was I?” “Oh Puj, your memory is getting worse. You were about to lose the outer wall.” “Indeed I was.” The rain is coming down hard. I have the attention of the Quad’s attacking the rest of my unit and the trap intended to thin out those aliens is about to be overrun by another wave of Rhyldanion nightmares. I look to the forest. If I can get to the treeline maybe I can buy enough time for the rest of the men to lay some more mines without getting killed myself. It feels like I’m running in slow motion as my combat boots get heavier and heavier with every stride collecting more mud. The second mine explodes I can only hope another Quad Is down. I hear the third, fourth and fifth mines explode. I daren’t turn back to inspect the
- 5. carnage. All I can hear is my heart pounding in my chest and the clicking noise the Quad’s back legs make as they run. The final mine goes off the earth moving explosion knocks me off my feet. “Aaarrrggghhh!” I scream out in pain as I feel a searing pain in the back of my thigh. The ground seams to be trembling beneath me. I try to get to my feet but only make it as far as my knees. “Aaarrrggghhh!” I look down, there is a blood drenched rapier like leg protruding from my stomach. I slump forward as the leg is pulled from my torso. I can hear my heartbeat slowing. The cold sweat and purple haze of unconsciousness is sweeping over me. The ground is shaking and I hear another explosion and then another and another? As my eyes start to close I manage to turn my head just enough to see not one but two heavy APCs coming over the crest of the hill firing their anti-tank cannons. My eyes open, I’m in the cloning facility. I pull various electrodes and wires from my head and torso. It’s cold but clean in the post cloning recovery room. The walls are devoid of decorations grey but well lit. I sit up, swing round on the recovery table and test the strength of my legs. As I my feet touch the floor the concrete sends a shiver up my spine. I slide my full weight off the table and my legs take the strain. They seem to be as strong as ever. There is laughing and chatting coming from a nearby room, I grab the linen top and trousers draped over the back of the metal frame chair in the corner of the room. Hmmm a perfect fit. “PJ!” The familiar voice of MinjaSteadson called out. “See I told you I would be fine” “Hmm” I grunt in response. “I see a new body hasn’t made you any more cheerful then” remarked Tyson Roberts playfully as he slurped from his plastic beaker. Minja slapped Tyson hard on the back causing him to miss his mouth with his beaker and spill most of his drink down his front. “Well he is probably just grumpy because he got cloned for a couple of tiny puncture wounds at least you went out in style. How does it feel to have your legs separated from your body?” “Not something I would care to experience again” Tyson replied while dabbing at his wet chest with a napkin.
- 6. As I look down the featureless stainless steel table, all 7 of them are there sat in exactly the same positions they always sit. We are all wearing the standard issue grey linen v necked Tshirt and corded linen trousers. Eating the protein synth food, off uniform tin plates and drinking from matching cloudy white plastic beakers. “Do you ever feel like we are just pieces in a game, being told where to stand, where to fight and where to fall?” I venture the question knowing I had probably just earned myself another 24 hour guard duty in the rain. All 6 privates looked towards the Sgt. “Rydecker!” Growled Sgt Garrick“We are here to do a job. Protect the settlement from whatever dangers befall it.” His men nodded approvingly and then looked back to me. “What if I wanted to…. I don’t know, be a framer instead?” I risked in response. Puzzled expressions were all I could see in the faces of the lads as they looked back to their C.O. who’s face and neck were becoming flushed. He was getting ticked off. Sgt Garrick looked up from his tin plate of snot for the first time since I had entered the room. “You want to be a farm boy do you Rydecker?” He questioned. His voice started quietly but got louder as he spoke and he rose out of his chair, which caused a spine tingling grating noise on the floor as it was pushed back by his legs. “The government has not invested millions of credits in you and your training so you can sit in a field chewing straw.” He slammed his hand down on the table catching the edge of his bowl catapulting its contents onto the nearly dry chest of Tyson. Tyson looked down at his snot cover top, sighed heavily and reached for another napkin. Sgt Garrick straightened up rolled his shoulders back “We are soldiers! We protect the good people of Timbertoc. If any of you think this isn’t the best and most important job you could do feel free to write your resignations. For those of you who want to continue being all you can be…….Heroes who have sworn to protect the people in this community, get some rest. You fought well today.” He strode across the canteen, towards the door. As he got to the door he stopped his broad heavy shoulders filled the frame he turned his head and barked “Rydecker eat up and get your combats on, I want you on the wall in 30 mins. You can think about your new found interest in fields. You will get plenty of time to look at them from up there.” It was a good speech and no one will write a resignation heck the men are daydreaming they are heroes. I think we’re drones. OWON drones. Even as I wonder if we have any free will at all, I take my allocated metal chair and start to eat from my uniform tin plate. I’m always starving after cloning.
- 7. Chapter 2 Second chance salon.