Gemini Ecliptic : : Chapter 14
The damning business of the Conrad cult and Tamnagar Creche Consortium wasn’t what they were doing per se. It was the direct assault they both undertook on our fundamental definition of what it means to be human. The Cyborgs claimed to be superior due to their technological augmentation. The cloners claimed that because they produced duplicates those children and people were less than human. These are two sides of the same disastrous sword. When you distill down the arguments of both sides, you end up with the core philosophies that engendered genocides in our troubled histories. Racism and slavery all grow from the head of this same monster. The Tamnagar Accords attempt to put to rest once and for all that human beings are neither less nor more. They simply are. The most important trials for this precedent are yet to come. We are far from being the final product of evolution. One day, some humans will emerge who possess abilities beyond our reckoning. Until the species truly shifts to something post-human, these accords will stand guard over all of us.
- Excerpt from the High Court’s decision re: Tamnagar v. The Republic, written by Consul Legate Laristar Atwon in 1157 AT.
As the two young men took a moment to further collect themselves for the last part of their testimony, a tech signaled the Consul Juris to be allowed to approach the dais. Pilleggi nodded, and the man, wearing the official seal of the Consul Juris’ top forensic unit, walked purposely toward the seated Primes. He was carrying the evidence case in which the Sergeant-at-Arms had placed the data crystals.
The reprieve gave Jensen and Jared a few extra moments to shore themselves up. The burden of the day had exceeded their expectations. They knew delivering their testimony would drain them, as would having to withhold a few details else they betray some sacred confidences. They anticipated having to brutally block the torrent of emotions blasting them from their loved ones. They had not however, prepared for Misha. They had to maintain their blocks, while at the same time, allowing their mentor a portal through their defenses. Fortunately, Misha’s cast-iron self-control had protected them from what he must be feeling. Juggling all of this was wearing them down, slowly but surely.
“You have a report?” Pilleggi addressed the tech.
“Yes, your Eminences. The crystals possess the subtle signatures of the worlds in which they longest resided. Their provenances match the claims of the Sentinels. We further find that no tampering to their structure has occurred. The data contained within is accurate and original. The last recorded data entries, the time logs and sensor readings further supports the given testimony. The data have been downloaded to secure servers and are available in full to the Prime Leaders via their secure scrolls. A cursory examination corroborates the claims and charges presented so far today. Deeper analysis, given the magnitude of the data dump, will require some weeks.”
The tech bowed his head to signal the conclusion of his report. Pilleggi mirrored the gesture, a tacit dismissal.
“Sentinels,” he began. “By your oath-sworn statement, you report that before the infiltration of the Ialon Beta creche, you sent the crystals away. To where and to whom?”
“Your Eminence,” Jared explained coolly. “Given that we had no assurances of our survival of this final infiltration, particularly if the lab had another high-yield explosive self-destruction device, we sent the crystals to a secure location, that in time, our superiors would assuredly find them.”
“And yet, you survived a nuclear explosion on Tanae,” Pilleggi inquired.
“Sir,” Jensen continued. “On Tanae, the nearest population center was some thousands of klicks away, and even then, not containing the number of civilians of one of New Dallas’ towers, we had no need to contain such destruction, merely survive it. Should another such device be rigged to the lab in the city, we would have to contain the explosive energies and somehow vent it all off without harm to people or planet. We did not anticipate that we could survive such maneuvers.”
Another stirring of uncomfortable murmuring erupted from the audience, but this time, it required very little time to die down to the pregnant silence that had so far dominated the tribunal.
“The infiltration of the creche, the disposal of the clones, the sequestering of the scientists and the acquiring of the crystals went without incident. Fortunately, we found no self-destruct device in the facility.”
Jensen paused in his delivery to allow Pilleggi to ask any questions.
“This accounts for all five of the creches and their disposal. Is this the sum of your due disclosure?” the older man asked.
“No, your Eminence,” Jared replied, rather softly. “It is unfortunately not. The final part of our testimony is, to our minds, the most disturbing, and the most difficult. It involves the rogue empath.”
Another murmur rippled around the great room. Pilleggi motioned them to continue, and they began to recount the final chapter.
Of Ialon Beta’s seventeen continents, Europa was the smallest. Though still large by other planetary standards, the strange rocky land mass only measured 12 million square kilometers. However, the most remarkable aspect of Europa was its great monolithic towers. Republican geologists argued for centuries as to what formed the huge, granite laccoliths. Thirty-seven of them dotted the landscape, all rising 3000 meters above the surrounding landscape. Shear-sided and flat-topped, the smallest of them measured some 10 kilometers across. The continental climate tended to the more arid, but not quite desert. Tourists came from all the worlds to see the strange geological formations, but Europa had fewer permanent residents than any other continuous spread of land on the giant rocky planet. Only one of the towers had a town atop it. The others remained mostly deserted, as air transport or teleporter were the only convenient methods of scaling the enormous laccoliths.
Jensen and Jared admired the spectacular view from the top of this particular tower. The small buildings dotting the flat top land indicated a very sparsely populated settlement. They knew that in fact it only held two individuals. A quick scan, and three pulses of energy disabled the airships and the teleporter in what appeared to be a hangar. Now certain that their targets would have no means to flee, they walked quickly to the central building.
As they got closer they saw a young boy, who appeared to be no older than nine or ten. They knew not to be taken in by his physical appearance. The phenoptic revealed the inherent danger in the boy’s existence. They realized he had been watching them as they approached; his features placidly calm, almost mask-like.
When they were within hearing distance, Jared said “Hello Brylan.”
“You are not supposed to be here,” the boy shot back.
“And neither are you,” Jensen countered.
“You are different.” The child’s large brown eyes studied the two young men. The breeze ruffled his dark hair, the sunlight glinting off strands of brown, auburn and bronze. In one hand, he held a toy ship. Another lay at his feet.
“Yes,” Jared said gently. “We are different.”
“But you aren’t different like me,” Brylan observed.
“No, we aren’t like you.” Jensen looked closely at the child. Their hearts were breaking at what had been done to this boy, and, sadly, what likely would be done to him.
“You came to take us away.” The boy’s eyes darted back and forth between them as he shuffled slightly from foot to foot. “Will we come back here?”
“No, Brylan.” Jared said in a near whisper. “You won’t be coming back here.”
A shout from the house drew the focus of all three. An older man, his age impossible to guess given his graying hair, came running toward them. He kept shouting the boy’s name. He began screaming at Jensen and Jared.
“Get away from him! Don’t touch him!”
“Dr. McNally,” Jensen said; his voice icy.
“How did you get here?! You can’t be here! You are supposed to be dead!” the frantic older man yelled.
“And so is he,” Jared barked, pointing at the boy.
“No! I won’t let you do this! You can’t stop us! This is too important. Too much is at stake. We’ve come too far! Brylan is proof of that! We should have done this from the beginning!” McNally raged. “Brylan, these men are dangerous. Make them obey!”
“Yes, father.” the boy replied, his voice strangely hollow and emptied of emotion.
Jensen and Jared immediately felt the boy’s assault on their minds. They had never encountered this strange kind of empathic energy, but try as the child might, he could not penetrate their blocks.
Pitching his voice at that strange tone that compelled others to obey, Jared said to the boy “Brylan, enough. It is time to sleep.”
Immediately, the boy’s eyes began to droop, his head nodding. Then he fell bonelessly to the ground, deep in slumber.
“What did you do to him?!” McNally screamed racing to reach the boy.
“He sleeps.” Jensen said, his green eyes flashing dangerously. “You will both sleep, until the moment that we bring you before the General Conclave to be punished.”
Smirking, McNally snapped “You think the government can stop me?”
“You perhaps refer to your friends in the Tectractys?” Jared asked, smiling with malice. “Yes, you will stand trial with them as well.”
McNally’s shock turned immediately to outrage. His madness made him dangerous, primarily to himself, and the Sentinals needed him alive.
“Sleep,” Jensen said, and scientist tumbled gracelessly to the ground.
“What will happen to the boy?” Jared wondered aloud.
“It isn’t up to us,” Jensen said, voice heavy with the fatigue weighing on both of them.
The two still bodies disappeared, leaving two lone figures atop the giant granite tower. They took each other’s hands, waited quietly for a signal. Within minutes, it was time to go.
The atmosphere within the great chamber became suffocating; the thick, crushing silence of a tomb. The holoprojector flared to life, and a strange, massive pyramidal chart floated in the center of the conclave.
“This is the Tectractys,” Jared explained. “One name has been removed as we have evidence that this party’s involvement was unwilling and unwitting. The rest stand accused.”
At the topmost point of the structure read the word “Pythagoras.” Two lines branched off, implicating the Princeps Major and Dr. Frank McNally. From there, a geometric progression of high-profile names associated with every branch of government. The notable absence was a name that should have appeared in the heart of the third row. This was clearly an important player in this scheme, dragged into a disastrous plot that would haunt the Republic for generations.
“The Tectractys extends downward to encompass all persons involved in this cabal. We so choose not to reveal further levels for the reasons we have previously stated.” Jensen explained. “The single omission is the name at the very top. Pythagoras may be a real person, or merely a fearful spectre concocted by the top-level conspirators. Based upon the evidence presented to you, though circumstantial, the best supported theory is non-existence of the entity.”
Having explained the strange term to the tribunal, Jared moved slightly forward, his tone beseeching. “Your Eminence. The next and final disclosure presents a number of difficulties. First, we will bring the boy here to be questioned. Given his extraordinary skills, he poses a great danger to all present. We can counter him, but this would constitute a form of tampering. It is a morally unpleasant task. It would require the Vox Veritas to monitor the boy very closely, to seek out truth, to monitor our influence over the boy to ensure we are not falsifying the boy’s testimony. At the same time, we must work to protect the Vox Veritas from the boy’s abilities. It will be very difficult.”
Pilleggi regarded them thoughtfully before addressing Misha. “Does the Vox Veritas object to this proposal and does he give assurance that he can complete the task here described?”
Misha’s response was not immediate. Finally, he said “This is a supremely difficult task; however, the onus of it falls upon Gemini. My part will be very small in comparison. I would, however, suggest a few baseline questions that I may examine the empathic interplay.”
“Will this pose any danger to the sanctity of the Vox Veritas’ mind?” Rhodes asked.
“No, your Eminence,” Jensen answered. “It should pose no such danger. We will, however, be questioning the boy without his guardian present.”
“This is highly irregular.” Pilleggi responded. “Precedent will support you if and only if you prove the mental incompetency of Dr. McNally.”
“We are aware, your Eminence.” Jared replied. “We will question McNally immediately following. Of his madness, we are certain.”
Pilleggi nodded his consent. Gemini walked slowly to the center of the open floor, the holoprojector no longer displaying data. A small form appeared between them, lying prone on the floor. Both young men bent down to gently rouse the boy from his imposed slumber.
“Brylan,” Jensen’s quiet, soothing voice called out to him. “Can you wake up for me?”
The boy blinked owlishly at them, slowly sitting up and a look of panic began to overtake him as he took in his surroundings.
“It’s okay,” Jared soothed. “No one here will hurt you. We won’t let them, but it’s very important that you talk to these people.” He gestured to the Consuls Legate and Juris. “They need to know about you and the things that you have been doing for your father.”
“Father is in trouble.” the boy stated flatly. “If I talk to them, he will be angry.”
“Brylan,” Jensen rubbed the child’s slightly shaking arm. “Yes, your father is in trouble because he did some very bad things. He wants to do a lot more bad things. Can you sense that I am telling you the truth?”
The boy nodded.
“Your father wants to hurt a lot of people, and I think you know that. We need your help to stop him. No matter what you say here today, as long as it’s the truth, no matter how angry your father gets, he won’t be allowed to hurt you or punish you. We will protect you, but we can only do that if you tell the truth, okay?” Jensen waited for the boy’s response, his eyes locked with the child’s.
Finally, Brylan nodded. Jensen and Jared helped him to his feet and guided him gently to a seat facing the dais but well removed from the accused.
Misha’s baseline questions, while routine and easily verified, still shocked the assembly. Many knew of the tragic loss of Frank McNally’s son in the war. Brylan Coren McNally had died nearly twenty years ago and yet, here sat what could only generously be described as his perfect replacement.
“Do you know how old you are, Brylan?” Jared asked.
“I’m two. Well, I will be at my next birthday in a couple of weeks.”
The boy looked to be ten or eleven.
“Do you understand what the word ‘empath’ means?”
“Yes, it’s when you can make other people think and do things.” He sat somewhat hunched, not looking up much, and nervously playing with the hem of loose knit shirt he wore.
“Is that what your father taught you?”
“Yes. He said it was important, that some people needed help. To figure out what to think and do and that I could help them.”
“Can you tell us about the things your father taught you? How he taught you?”
“He would tell us something he wanted us to get the other to do, and whoever did it first got rewarded.”
“Brylan,” Jensen asked softly. “Who is ‘us’?”
“Me and my brothers. The other Brylans. There were four of us.”
“What happened to your brothers?”
“Father said that they got tired and needed to rest for a while. I was the only one that didn’t get tired.”
“When your father told you to get the others to do something, did he tell you how to do that?”
“No. He said it was important that we figure that out by ourselves. The one of us who got the others to do something would get nice things, like ice cream or toys.”
“What about the one who didn’t? That you got to do the thing your father asked for?”
“My older Brylan, the oldest one, he didn’t ever seem to be able to get it right. He was usually the one that the others beat. After a while, he got tired.”
“You were the youngest?”
“Yes.”
“And all of the others. Did they get tired, too?”
“Yes. Father said they were very tired and needed lots of rest.”
“Did you ever see them again?”
“No. I’ve been by myself for a while now.”
“Did your father take you places? To get other people to do and think things?”
“Yes. Lots of places.”
“You’ve done really well, Brylan.” Jared soothed the boy. “Some people may need to ask you some more questions later.”
“Okay. Am I in trouble?”
“No, Brylan,” Jensen said softly, his eyes unusually glossy. “You aren’t in trouble. Why don’t you come with me and let’s go sit down.”
The boy nodded his head and stood up slowly. He took Jensen’s hand and was led docilely to a couple of empty chairs. Jensen got the boy seated and then whispered “Sleep” touching the boy’s forehead. The child slumped, and the older man laid him out across several chairs to make him as comfortable as possible.
When he returned to Jared’s side, he could see the horror in the pale faces of the Primes.
“We now call Dr. Frank McNally.”
A much older man, gray-headed and stockily built appeared before the dais.
“What is this?” he yelled.
Pilleggi answered him sternly. “This is General Conclave. You are in Celestus. You are to be questioned before this body. Your testimony will be validated by the Vox Veritas. If you refuse to cooperate, you will be placed under the compulsion of an empath.”
McNally’s face grew impossibly more pale, rage and fear warring in his eyes. The openly hostile gazes of the Primes finally subdued him to the point that he walked stiffly to the seat flanked by Jensen and Jared.
“You are Dr. Frank McNally?” Jared began.
“I am.” the man answered through clenched teeth. “Under what charge are you holding me?”
“Murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, fraud, violation of the Tamnagar accord and high treason,” Jensen listed. “To name just a few.”
McNally’s eyes widened, his breathing audibly quickening. He glanced frantically around the room for any sign of aid. He stared at Fayon for a moment but the Princeps refused to meet his gaze.
“Dr. McNally,” Jared began. “You were engaged by the Republican Military Corps to create a psionic field detector, were you not?”
Obviously rattled by this line of questioning he stuttered out an affirmative.
“Did you, in fact, ever successfully build such a device?”
“Yes!” he nearly yelled.
“The witness perjures himself.” Misha stated.
“I did not.” McNally recanted.
“Yet you delivered a device claiming to function as a detector to the Corps. What function did this device fulfill if not to detect psionic fields?”
“It was an advanced tactical tracking and positioning system.”
“Please explain.”
“It could deploy and track a large group of Adepts and alter their positioning instantly in battle.”
“How large a group?”
“It has a theoretical upper limit of 50 million individual units.”
“And yet, there are less than half a million adepts in the Republic.”
“Yes.”
“What did you do with the resources allocated to you by the Corps to build this system?”
McNally paused, looking down at his lap. “I diverted them to other research projects.”
“What projects?”
“A cloning creche.”
“What were you cloning?”
“My son.”
“Your son, Centurion Brylan McNally, deceased.”
“Yes.”
“And why were you cloning him?”
“He was an Adept. It was what got him killed. I was trying to clone Adepts.”
“And yet, every geneticist for the past three hundred years has shown that genetics do not account for the psionic abilities.”
“To our current knowledge, that is correct.”
“So, if you can’t specifically clone an Adept, what were you doing?”
“Statistically, if you create enough clones, some of them would be Adepts.”
“How many clones of your son did you create before you found one to be psionic?”
“I…” McNally faltered. “I don’t know.”
“The witness perjures himself.” Misha called out again.
Jensen and Jared stood straight and tall before the cowering man, their armor still gleaming. McNally searched their faces, and found no sympathy.
“17,983.” he nearly whispered.
Rhodes pounded the Worlds Stone upon its base to restore order to the gathering as voices once more rose in expressions of shock.
“Dr. McNally,” Jensen began. “What did you do with the clones who displayed no psionic ability?”
“I recycled them.”
“What do you mean by ‘recycled?’”
“They were liquefied and reintroduced into the creche nutrient system.”
The uproar in the chamber became deafening. Rhodes could not restore order. Finally, the command of “Silence!” boomed out, bouncing off the walls and ceilings with terrifying force. Instantly, the auditorium became tomb quiet. Jensen and Jared swept the audience with a baleful gaze.
“Silence will be maintained for the duration of this witness’s testimony.” The two Adepts spoke in unison, the command carrying such force, no one dared disobey.
“You accelerated the clones’ development?” Jared asked McNally.
“Yes, at a ratio of two years per day.”
“You revived the clones on the fifth day?”
“In the beginning, yes. It took some time to figure out how to test them for psionic ability.”
“Once you developed this test, did you alter the development cycle?”
“Yes. I sped it up to five years per day and would wake them at approximately the eighth year of development.”
“What did you do when you encountered the first psionic clone?”
“I had been getting support and resources from an unnamed source. I kept this person apprised of the project’s progress. When the first Brylan had been verified, I contacted the source immediately.”
“And then what happened?”
“The group that supported all this started building creche facilities. I got the additional resources to expand my creche.”
“And what was the final capacity of your lab?”
“We could develop seven thousand clones at a time.”
“You successfully created four psionic Brylan clones, correct?”
“Yes.”
“The records from the project said that around 13,500 clones had been created, but your testimony indicates the number was much higher. Can you account for the discrepancy?”
“The archived reports were only the anomalous cases, where something unusual had happened or gone wrong.”
“By the time the fourth Brylan clone tested positive, how many clones had you created?”
“About 90,000.”
“The last successful Brylan clone emerged nearly two years ago?”
“Yes.”
“The expansion of your creche to its final capacity was completed when?”
“One month ago.”
“And you were aware of the lesser facilities throughout the Republic?”
“Yes. I designed them.”
“Why create smaller creches in so many other places?”
“Dispersion of genome samples. Also to let the other teams experiment to see if they could improve the efficiency of the project.”
“By efficiency you mean increase the number of psionic clones in ratio to the non-psionics?”
“Yes.”
“Are those the only reasons?”
“No. Initially, that was all, but then rumors started circulating about ’Superadepts’. We started hearing things about you two.”
“What things?”
“Power beyond anything seen or measured. So, we started working on how to acquire new samples for our stock.”
“You are saying that planning began on how to clone us?” Jensen asked.
“Yes.”
“Again, there’s no substantive evidence of a genetic link to psionic ability. Why would you and your cohorts pursue this plan?”
“We don’t know what makes Adepts, but we did figure out that genomes from proven Adepts are slightly more likely to produce Adept clones than from standard genomes. We don’t know why, but the Brylan clones were predisposed to create empaths. We had a few anomalous manifestations of other talents, but they were all very weak. The strongest, the four I worked with, all were empaths. So, if we cloned the two of you, we could reasonably expect to produce sets of ‘Superadepts’.”
“Why?”
“So no other parents would have to bury their dead children! Damn you! We wouldn’t even need to make a hundred-thousand of you two and the war would be over! Hell we could even reproduce the soldiers that were lost!”
“So you would kill what? A billion clones to create this disposable army?”
“They are just clones!”
“But you just said you could recreate those killed in the war. Are they just clones, too?”
“No!”
“Then what are they, doctor? What were the thousands of children you ‘recycled’? What were they?”
McNally faltered, his fragilely constructed reality crashing. No answer came.
“One more thing, Doctor.” Jensen continued. “How long does Brylan have to live?”
“I had to speed up the process. I had to produce more and more clones.”
“How long?”
“A month? Maybe a year on the outside. He stopped growing last year.
“We have no further questions for the doctor.”
Two guards escorted the shaken man to an empty seat, well away from the still sleeping Brylan. Jensen and Jared stood close, foreheads touching. The ordeal was nearly over. They turned to face the main dais, and Jared addressed the Consuls Juris and Legate.
“The genomes stolen from me had only just made it to the creche in New Dallas by the time we got there. All samples have since been destroyed. The children,” Jared’s voice broke. Jensen clutched his hand. “My brothers had a strange and terrible effect on me. I can’t really describe it, but it was like a cancer of the soul. We were forced into this situation against our will, and so were they. We had to kill them because they were slowly killing me. Any attempt to duplicate us would have met with the same failure. We can’t explain why.”
Jensen continued. “All of the testimony delivered today can be supported with the data from the crystals. We honestly don’t know what to plead on our own behalf for the murder of Jared’s cloned brothers. It was truly self-defense, but we have no method to prove that. The only mercy granted us during the past few days was that none of them had reached a level of maturity where they could be awakened. We have no other comfort.”
Pilleggi, unable to hold eye-contact with the two young men, rubbed his hands across the polished surface of the lectern. He struggled to gather his thoughts, and finally decided on the only viable course of action.
“Does this conclude the disclosure of Secernere?” he asked.
“Yes, your Eminence,” they answered.
“The magnitude and scope of these offenses require deliberation. The Prime Leaders will retire to the Basilica Conclave chamber in one hour. Given the horrors endured by the Sentinels and their loved ones, allow us to grant one more mercy. For that intervening hour, they and their friends and family may reunite before we require the presence of the Justicar Psionica in Conclave.”
Jensen and Jared gave Pilleggi watery smiles of appreciation.
“At the conclusion of our deliberations, we will reconvene General Conclave to pass judgment. Guards, escort the accused to holding cells under maximum security. This session is in recess.”
The many doors of the chamber suddenly opened. The audience stood in solemn silence as the Primes exited the grand chamber. The Captain of the Guard approached Jensen and Jared, the sympathy in his eyes clear even through his galea. “Sirs,” he said gently. “We have secured the Consul Chamber nearby for your privacy. Please follow me.”
Exhausted, drained and weary, the two young men trailed behind their escort, through a concealed door. The luxuriously appointed room contained couches and large comfortable chairs, more than sufficient to house the band of friends and loved ones the Captain had assured them would be joining them shortly. The pair all but collapsed onto a small couch for two and huddled together. Very shortly thereafter, their mothers descended upon them in a whirlwind of tears, laughter, kisses, hugs, admonishments and adorations. Their fathers were seconds behind, then siblings. Their friends managed to wedge into the huddle in shifts. The emotional deluge threatened to overwhelm them, but they held on, accepting the gentle touches and a few kisses.
When the press of well-wishers finally let them go, they caught their first sight of their mentors since they’d returned. They drew in a sharp breath. All of them looked unspeakably haggard, faces drawn, deep stress lines around their eyes, mouths and their eyes were hollow and glassy. None looked worse than Jeffrey. Jensen and Jared took two stumbling steps toward the man, caught themselves, and drew to attention, giving the man a sharp salute.
Returning the salute, his gruff voice set them at ease. They rushed to him, all sense of propriety gone. They wrapped him in a rib-cracking hug which he returned hungrily.
“Thought we lost you boys.” The older man’s voice was muffled in the long embrace. When he finally released them, Samantha, Sasha and even Jager took their turns. Finally they turned to Misha, their beloved friend, whose cerulean eyes were welling up. He grabbed hold of them and pulled them in so tightly they feared for their breath. They stood silently, gently rocking.
They pulled away, wiping their eyes and faces, only then noticing the presence of Justin Hartley lingering back from the crowd. He quietly saluted them, with the biggest and brightest shit-eating grin they had ever seen. The returned the jaunty salute and broke into laughter, the emotional pressure boiling over and out of them in the joyous sound. Once again under control, they faced their leader.
“Sir, we are so sorry,” Jared began to apologize.
“No,” Jeffrey interrupted him. “No. You did exactly what had to be done. If any one of us had acted in any way other that wasn’t completely natural, it would have tipped off Fayon. He had eyes everywhere. It had to go down this way. You did good.”
“Thank you, Sir,” they both whispered; their faces flush with pleased embarrassment.
Jensen turned to Justin, a speculative gleam in his eye. “Chad?”
The older adept nodded, smirking back. “Chad.”
“What are you on about?” Sasha queried.
“We had a little help from our paranoid friend,” Jared answered, turning to Justin, who looked fit to burst to finally share the events of the previous day. “And, in order to keep from blowing his cover, we had to artfully omit some things in our testimony today.”
“Well,” Morgan stated flatly. “You three had better start explaining.”
Justin Hartley hated cloak-and-dagger bullshit, and right now, it seemed he was buried under an avalanche of it. Something massive had gone down in Psi Min, but no one knew what it was. The Justicar had been basically missing in action for days, and every instinct he had told Justin that whatever had happened it was anything but good. He should be flattered that he had earned Morgan’s trust enough to be sent on this little errand. He should, but this twelfth switch in course and/or vehicle to get to the coordinates seemed excessive. He knew a bit about Lindberg, enough to know the man was paranoid to the point he probably needed neuro-treatment. Even for him, this was a bit much.
Senses on high alert, a constant empathic sweep around him, assured him that no one had followed him. He turned one last corner and arrived at the coordinates, but he saw no entrance. The solid rock wall in front of him, rippled once, then twice, and disappeared all together revealing a massive blast door. Justin chuckled to himself. Lindberg really should seek professional help.(I think that would work just as well if he said that to himself.) He slipped in as the door opened, and at the end of a tunnel was the technological lair of the madman in question. He gave a low whistle at the astounding array of technology everywhere he looked.
“You weren’t followed?” Chad asked, his back still to Justin, eyes focused on the holodisplays in front of him.
“Nope,” Justin answered. “Empathic scans the entire way here.”
“Good,” Chad shot back. “Having an empath come here has advantages.”
“And why precisely am I here?” Justin’s tone conveyed a bit of his annoyance.
“Because you are going to deliver what is probably the most important piece of information the Justicar has ever received.”
Justin rolled his eyes at the melodrama, luckily before Chad spun his chair to face his guest. The strange, shorter man stood and made his way to the large work table in the center of the room.
“And what, pray tell, is this vital piece of information?”
Chad looked at him appraisingly, but his excitement won out over his caution.
“I have cracked a cypher that encrypted a massive amount of data. Powerful people in the Republic have been up to some things that will shake our government to its core.” He waved his hand over the smooth surface of the table and projection appeared. “A secret organization has been working steadily to create a program that would clone Adepts.”
Justin’s eyes grew wide as his mouth dropped open.
“Specifically, they want to clone Gemini.”
“Wait, that’s not possible. Genetics have never explained psionic manifestations.”
“No, they haven’t. And they still don’t. But if you create ten-thousand copies of an Adept, one will likely have the same powers as the original.”
“But one out of ten-thousands clones? That’s pretty damned inefficient, and a massive increase in population. Not mention that cloning has been banned for over two thousand years.”
“It would be a problem only if you had a moral objection to killing all of the clones that don’t have powers.”
“You can’t be serious!” Justin nearly shouted.
“This data here shows plans for ‘recycling’ the ‘failed’ attempts. Basically, they are prepared to clone Gemini millions upon millions of times, murdering the ‘normal’ clones, and engineering the ‘powered’ clones to be unquestioning soldiers. And yeah, it is every bit as horrifying as you think it is.”
They stood in silence, Justin gaping as he tried to wrap his mind around what he had just heard and seen. A glimmer caught his attention, and suddenly, four flawlessly smooth rectangular pieces of crystal just appeared on the table.
“How did you do that?” both men asked, startled.
“I didn’t do it!” they both responded.
Chad’s hands flew, the display changing so rapidly that Justin couldn’t begin to follow what was happening.
“What the hell?!” Chad yelled, his finger jabbing at a meter reading. “Nothing on the sensors! Nothing gets by my sensors. No teleporter energy signatures, hell no energy signatures period.”
They both eyed the chips as though they might suddenly explode.
“Are those memory crystals?” Justin asked.
“Yeah, they are,” Chad sat staring for a few minutes longer and then suddenly grabbed all four of the offending objects. At first, Justin thought he was going to break them. The tech turned one on its end and pushed, but instead of shattering, the table surface gave way, and about a quarter of the crystal’s length slid into the previously smooth table, and then it lit up. Chad repeated the action with the other three. Once again, his hands flew through the air and the light refracted in the crystals changed from white to red.
“What are you doing?” Justin asked quietly.
“Loading them in isolation mode, so they can’t infect any of my systems and I can get a look at what’s inside of them.”
A few seconds later, Chad gasped.
“What?” Justin demanded. “What is it?”
“These are the central memory units of four of the cloning labs. It describes everything, in detail. Oh no,” the tech said, his voice becoming agonized. “They have Jared.”
“What?!”
“They kidnapped Jared. Blew up a ship he was on, and transported him out at the last minute,” Chad’s hands moved again. “To a cloaked ship in high orbit. He was immediately put in hibernation. It says here that a second person was teleported to the ship. It was supposed to be Jensen, but was a young female. The transition into hibernation killed her. Her body couldn’t handle the elevated level of stasis.”
Before Justin could say anything, Chad turned to him. “You got anywhere you desperately need to be in the next hour?”
“If you are asking if I can wait around till you get this sorted and ready for the Justicar, then no. I am all yours.”
Chad returned to his manic waving. Justin couldn’t help but be a bit in awe of the man. Thousands of years ago, a group of humans had added mechanical modifications to their bodies, to allow them to interface completely with computers. The movement died out shortly after, but Chad seemed to be achieving the same ends without implants. Justin thought he might finally understand the other man’s obsession with secrecy.
“This could take a bit,” Chad said, his eyes and hands never ceasing in their movement. “There’s another console over there that you can access all of the information from. You might as well make yourself useful while you wait.”
Truthfully, Justin really had no desire to learn more about the atrocities committed by this cabal, but desire had no part in this. He had a duty to fulfill. The conspirators had at least one of Gemini in their clutches. This just became personal.
Back in their quiet room, high in the clouds in New Dallas, Jared and Jensen took time to rest and to process. The timing for the rest of the day had to have millisecond precision, so now they waited. This temporary refuge had not only given them shelter and rest, but unexpectedly prepared them for the termination of the final lab. When they had first materialized here, they had forgotten that the room would have sensors. They had bypassed checking in to forestall any digital footprint they might leave behind, but all buildings in the Republic, especially the super-towers, had complex safety systems. In the event of catastrophe, the signals would facilitate rescue and evacuation efforts. Since the onset of the Silicate War, the systems had only gotten more complex and their readings more fastidiously monitored.
Jensen and Jared silently thanked Chad for the brief time they had worked with him. Deactivation was not an option, so rigging the sensors to give false readings was their only recourse. The first three hours had been tense, waiting for someone to come barreling into the room to investigate. Finally, they relaxed; finished off the massive haul of food they had liberated from a restaurant nearby, and slipped into a deep, uninterrupted sleep for fourteen hours. When they awoke, the temptation to sink into one another, to finally hold and touch and love one another after the unbearably painful separation, almost overwhelmed them. But knowing what came next and what they had to do, neither wanted the joy of their reunion to be sullied by unfinished business.
Dealing with the lab could not have gone more smoothly. They appeared, incapacitated the staff and sent them to Yser. The sensors posed no issue for them now that they had had practice. They let out a breath they hadn’t realized they were holding when they detected the absence of any type of self-destruct mechanism, which they worried that the cabal would implement. Fortunately, it appeared the conspirators drew the line at murdering millions of New Dallas citizens. Before retrieving the memory crystal, they took some time to investigate the data. What they found somehow surpassed their worst suspicions.
They had neither the time nor the stomach to read through it all. Hopefully, Chad had parsed all of the data and had a clearer idea of how far this clandestine plan extended. What they sought and found, was confirmation of their next step. Of everything they had done to stop this, the final act would prove by far the most difficult. Just as Jensen was about to shut down the machine, remove the crystal and send it on its way to Chad, a message flashed across the holodisplay. Astonishingly enough, it read: ‘I know you are reading this, so respond.’
Jensen and Jared shared bemused looks, and then Jared touched the image. The next they knew, Chad’s face appeared before them.
“What the hell?!” Jensen shouted, suddenly terrified they had trusted the wrong person.
“Relax.” the tech responded. “I got your little shipment and reviewed all the data. When I tried to hack into the other labs’ computers, they were all zero signal. This one was the only one with an operating system. I figured you had destroyed the other labs, and this was your last stop. So I hacked the sensors, and when any anomaly appeared, I would know you two were there. Oh, nice work on the false sensor reads, by the way. I didn’t have to do anything to help you out at all.”
“Uh, thanks?” Jared stared back.
“So, here’s the deal. Everyone thinks you two are dead. Right now, the Justicar is sequestered in the Basilica until after the General Conclave this afternoon. It’s set to start in six hours from now. That’s when they will announce your deaths to the worlds.”
Both Sentinels scrubbed their hands over their faces in perfect synchronicity.
“Yeah, you’ve got too much to do, so put the guilt aside.”
“So you have a plan?” Jared asked.
“Yep.” A display of the floor plan of the senate chamber appeared. “For General Conclave the chamber will be wide open to accommodate all of the people attending.” What had appeared to be walls creating countless rooms around the central circle of the great chamber disappeared, reconfiguring the building into a massive room.
“How many people are going to be there?” Jensen asked incredulously.
“About 20,000. All the elected representatives of the Republic government will be in attendance As will their Aides. All appointed leaders will be there with their aides. The press. And for this one, a large number of VIPs. All of squadron A will be there. As will their families.
When Jensen and Jared visibly paled, Chad pushed on. “I told you, no time for guilt. I haven’t been on the ground during this, but its hit everyone hard, and I can guarantee that when you reveal what has been going on and why you two went radio silent, no one is going to be mad. Hell, just the relief to see you two alive and kicking will make pretty much everyone ecstatic. So, back to the plan.
“After the meeting is in session, I figure about thirty minutes to an hour in, you two plant yourselves here.” A red dot flashed outside of one of the huge entrance doors to the auditorium. “However it is you get there; I don’t care or want to know. I’ve worked out a signal that I will send you that gives me enough time so I can disable sensors, create a little diversion, and get everything set.
“This has to happen today, at that meeting.”
“Why?” Jared asked.
“Because I have the names of everyone who ran this secret organization. We have to strike quickly and unexpectedly, or they will go to ground. And the ones that are most likely to slip away will be in that room in six hours.”
“No one thought to ask about all that data you used during the tribunal,” Jager asked thoughtfully.
“Nope,” Jensen answered, well pleased. “Chad piped it in, all parsed out. Honestly, I don’t think even he has made it all the way through those crystals. I can say for certain, I really don’t wanna know anymore about this holocaust than I already do.”
Jared hummed his agreement.
“So, as far as all of you are concerned, what you’ve just told me and what you submitted during tribunal,” Morgan began gravely, “That’s the sum total of what you know about this Tectractys business?”
“Yes Sir,” Jared answered. “We have a theory or two, but none of it is anywhere close to being provable.”
“The mysterious Pythagoras,” Misha filled in the blanks.
“If he really does exist,” Jensen went on to explain, “I have no doubt Chad will suss him out through all of that data.”
Morgan stared off into the distance, as if trying to wrestle with some mental demon. His expression cleared abruptly as the Captain of the Guard entered.
“Justicar,” he said formally. “We require your presence.”
“Very well,” the older man said. He turned to his two protégées, a hand placed gently on each of their necks. “I’m proud of you two. Couldn’t be prouder. And if either of you leave this room while I’m gone, I am going to hunt you down, shoot you both with stunners, and shackle you to the walls of your quarters at the Academy.”
They beamed back at him, laughing through the tears his praise had evoked. Morgan turned to follow out the guard, speaking to the Captain. “Please see to it that food and drink is brought to them. Anything they require.”
“Yes, Sir,” the blue-garbed soldier replied. “It will be my honor, Sir.”
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