Shockball (11 page)

“Welcome to The Grey Veils.” It turned to me. “Identify the female Terran, please.”

“This is my property, Dr. Cherijo Grey Veil.”

“Welcome, Dr. Cherijo. It has been over three revolutions since your last occupation. Please respond for an updated entry into the household database voice-recognition program.”

“This place still resembles a mausoleum.”

“Thank you, Dr. Cherijo.”

Joseph instructed the drone to prepare an evening meal for two, then dismissed the guards. Once we were alone, he lifted Jenner’s carrier and gestured for me to proceed him to the wing I had once occupied.

He still had my cat, so there wasn’t much I could do. Yet.

“I’m not staying,” I said as I trudged down the endless hall. “So don’t get too comfortable with the living arrangements.”

“I have no doubt you will try to escape.” Joe ushered me into my old room, which, like its duplicate on the
Truman
, was exactly as I had left it. “You have one hour to cleanse and rest before dinner. Then we will discuss why escape would be unadvisable, and what the future holds for both of us.”

Our future was a snap to predict. I would be leaving. He would be in traction.

As soon as the door panel closed, I tried to reopen it, but he’d locked me in. Then I started searching for anything I could use as a weapon. All my medical and sports gear had been removed. Anything made of alloy or plas had also been confiscated. I sat down on my old sleeping platform, and thought for a minute.

The treasure trove.

Joseph didn’t know what a sneaky kid I’d been. There were always little things I’d picked up that he’d demanded I dispose of—pretty rocks, feathers—the usual kid junk. I’d pretended to throw them away, then had secretly squirreled away my treasures. Even Maggie hadn’t known about my stashed collection.

Before I went after it, I’d have to find all the recording drones he had planted in here and disable them. That would take some time—probably more than an hour.

So I’d cleanse, dress for dinner, and wait until later.

Unlike the replicated room on the
Truman
, Joe had provided me with a brand-new selection of garments. Very attractive, feminine outfits with plenty of sparkle and matching accessories. He must have forgotten how uncomfortable I was in that kind of thing. Luckily I found one of my old physician’s tunics in the back of the storage unit, and put that on, making sure the Lok-Teel was still secure in its hiding place.

The door panel opened precisely an hour after Joe locked me in, and one of the drone staff hovered outside in the hall, evidently waiting to escort me.

“Any chance I can reprogram you to get me out of here?” I asked it as I walked out.

“All input by Dr. Cherijo must have Dr. Joseph’s approval before the unit may comply with any directives.”

“That’s a shame.”

Joseph stood waiting for me in the main dining room. Dining hall, I reminded myself. My creator liked formality almost as much as he liked experimenting on helpless children.

He frowned at me as I entered the cavernous room. “Good evening.”

“You’re still breathing. What’s good about it?” I was starving, but wary of the food the drones had laid out for us. “Where’s Jenner?”

“Safe, for now. Please”—he swept a hand toward my old place at the table, just to the right of his chair—“sit down. You must be hungry.”

I sat. “I’d like to have a scanner, please.”

He took his place beside me. “You’re not feeling well?”

“No. I want to check this food for drugs before I put it in my mouth.”

Amicably he reached over, took my plate, and ate some of the fancy seafood from it. Then he handed it back to me. “You may observe me as long as you wish, but I assure you, the food has not been drugged.”

Instead of eating, I handed him my crystal flute. “Try the champagne while you’re at it.”

He didn’t take a sip of that, but called for a drone and had it removed. I sat and smirked until he gave me an irritable glance.

“You are only delaying the inevitable.”

“The inevitable what? Lab rat tests?” I picked up my fork and toyed with my shrimp. It wasn’t spiked, but he’d touched it. “Why the drugs?”

“You indicated you’d try to escape. A mild tranquilizer would inhibit such impulsive behavior, and make what lies ahead less stressful for you.”

He really wouldn’t try to sedate me without a good reason, and his idea of stress would make someone else have a nervous breakdown. “What lies ahead?”

“Revelations.” He ordered a carafe of plain water from the attending drone and gestured toward my plate. “Please eat your meal now. We will discuss my plans for your future after dinner.”

I accepted the water after I saw him drink some from the same container, but I didn’t eat. How could I? I was sitting next to a monster, the man directly responsible for nearly every miserable moment of my life. Besides, I couldn’t eat and listen to him at the same time—I’d throw up. And Joe never kept quiet when he had an audience.

He didn’t disappoint me. “The reports I’ve received since the Hsktskt captured you at Joren have been few, and very sporadic. A number of colonial aliens have sent signals to Terra regarding your heroic actions on the slave world. I will need more details about your activities since you left me.”

Left
him. Like we were married or something.

“Let’s see.” I made a show of thinking it over. “Not much happened. I treated alien patients. I avoided the League. I got married. I was away from you. I was happy.” I tapped my finger against my cheek. “I heard you started a war between the League and the Hsktskt. You get
that
bored while I was gone?”

“I did not initiate the hostilities between the Faction and the League. They have been ongoing for decades.” He put down his fork and instructed the drone to clear both our places and bring dessert. “I merely offered my opinion before the Fendegal XI delegation as to a possible solution to the perpetual border disputes and colonial attacks.”

“Such as wiping out the entire Hsktskt civilization. Good solution.” When the attending drone would have set a plate of fruit in front of me, I pushed its arm away. “When millions die as a result of your opinion, Doctor, tell me—how are you going to feel about that?”

“The Terran involvement in the conflict will be marginal. The balance of the League’s forces are not human.”

“Don’t feel bad. A lot of people have no hearts. Of course, everyone else besides you is a cadaver.”

His brows rose. “It is obvious you wish to provoke an altercation with me.”

“Gee, you’re quick. Want to show me how fast you can run out in front of a glide-bus?”

“We will continue this discussion later.” He folded his napkin, placed it on the table, and rose. “You will accompany me now.”

I got up, too. “Where?”

“To my laboratory. Where you were born, Cherijo.”

I’ll confess, I wanted to see it. The facility I’d been created in wasn’t located on the estate, but rather
under
it. Joseph took me to a lift I’d never seen before, hidden in the back of his study, and guided me in.

“How far down?” I asked as he closed the panel and rapidly input a code into the panel. I watched so I could memorize the numbers.

“I had the lab constructed five hundred feet below the fault line,” he said. The lift began to silently descend. “Also, for your information, I change the access codes daily.”

I was glad I hadn’t eaten anything at dinner. My stomach was starting to roll again. “A bit paranoid, don’t you think?”

“Where you are concerned, my child, I find unnecessary precautions are absolutely imperative.”

“Don’t call me your child. I’m not your child. If anything, I’m your sister.”

He didn’t comment on that as the lift continued to drop. It came to a smooth stop and the panel slid open to reveal a huge, empty white room.

White walls
. I’d had nightmares about them, I remembered. So they were real.
How many times did he drug me and drag me down here
? He went to take my arm, and I jerked away.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I intend to do a great deal more than simply touch you. But for now, I will allow you your distance. Come. I will give you a complete tour of where you were created.”

I stepped out of the lift. “Does it come with an Igor?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The lab, Dr. Frankenstein.”

He shook his head. “I never understood your fascination with those ancient fictional texts. They were poorly conceived, absolutely without the slightest scientific foundation, and luridly composed. Although they were not quite as bad as those disgusting romance novels.”

Those disgusting romance novels had kept me from turning into
him
. “You never liked my taste in anything.”

The interior temperature equaled the warmth of Joe’s personality, a few degrees above frost formation. I shivered. Beyond the open, empty area we were standing in were five separate corridors lined with other door panels.

“Where’s the dissection room? Got your lascalpel rig powered up?”

His upper lip curled. “We’ll start with Central Analysis. Follow me.”

Central Analysis was a research scientist’s fantasyland, fully stocked with all the latest in medical examination tech. Some of the scanners were so new I didn’t recognize the models. Several worktables stood ready for human subjects, but there was a sterile, unused feel to the room.

I wiped up a little dust from a console with my fingertip and examined it. “Been suffering mad scientist block lately?”

“I generally work in Development and Engineering.” He pointed to another panel. “Through there.”

I walked through the door and entered an equally sterile, cold environment. However, here there were signs of ongoing experiments, centrifuges spinning, culture dishes cooking, and an entire wall of containers stuffed with organs and other, less recognizable objects preserved in duralyde solution.

I nodded toward the wall. “Spare parts in case you mess up?”

“Some are continuing experiments in cloned organ scaffolding. Others are failures. As were these.”

He pressed a button on a console, and an entire section of the opposite wall slid away. Behind it were endless rows of glittering plas bubbles, filled with black liquid and hooked to dozens of data cables. Each had a drone clamped to its base, and from the flickering lights many were still active.

That didn’t get my attention as much as the contents of the bubbles. Inside the murky fluid were small, pale objects enmeshed in a web of monitor leads. They were human. Human fetuses in various stages of development.

Hundreds of them.

I could feel the color draining from my face. “Embryonic chambers, I presume?”

“That is correct. This one”—he went over and placed a hand on the only empty chamber—“was where I developed you.”

I walked toward it, morbidly fascinated. Memories stirred with every step.

The sea of warm, black fluid… the intricate web held my body suspended… warm and safe…

“How long did it take to develop me?” I asked as I got close to the technological horror that had been, in essence, my mother.

“Synthetic growth hormones cut the gestational period by a third. You were full term at twenty-seven weeks.”

“Prematurely mature.” I touched the outer curve of the chamber. The flexible chamber housing felt warm against my palm. Old sensations washed over me.

Unexpected light… ferocious pain… pulsating strands stabbing into my tiny body… tearing at my bones and flesh… changing me… a younger Joseph staring at me through the plas… the fluid draining away… clawing at myself… unable to breathe… cold… empty… blind…

“You probably have some residual recollections of the chamber. Tests indicated you were fully cognizant and aware of your environment by your third month of development.**

“Second,” I told him, not caring if he believed me. “Yes, I was. I remember when you took me out of here.”

A note of eagerness entered his voice. “Tell me what you recall.”

“Fear. Disgust. Horror. Outrage.” I slowly took my hand away and faced him. “I won’t let you do this again. It’s wrong. You can’t create human beings like this.”

“I was telling the truth, Cherijo, when I said I would not repeat my past mistakes. Even if I wanted to, I now know the success I achieved with you is singular. There will be no more clones raised in embryonic chambers in this facility.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. “Good.” Then I got skeptical. “What
are
you planning to do to produce the next perfect human?”

He sat down and regarded me steadily. “I’m going to impregnate you with my own DNA.”

“Oh, please.” I couldn’t help it. I started laughing. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“You’re a geneticist, Joe. You know the damage that can be created by analogous gene pools mixing.”

“That can be prevented.”

“By two nearly identical twins producing an offspring? Get a grip. Artificially inseminating me with your own sperm will only produce babies who have the I.Q.s of broccoli.” I wiped my eyes with one hand. “God, I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.”

“In-utero adjustments will have to be made, of course.”

He was absolutely serious. He had the talent and knowledge to repair whatever damage came of blend-ing our mirrored DNA. He could get me pregnant, but could he control my immune system response?

Of course he could. He was an expert at organ transplant techniques. If anyone knew how to keep a body from rejecting foreign tissue, it was Joseph Grey Veil.

He could have prevented my miscarriage. And there was the ultimate irony—Joseph Grey Veil likely represented my only hope of ever having another child.

For a moment, I entertained a revolting idea. Just for a moment. Then it hit me: He had engineered my body to reject my unborn children. He was directly responsible for my miscarriage.

“If you will look over the project specs with me, I can show where I—”

He never completed that sentence. I lunged at him, and knocked him flat on his back. My first punch broke his nose. My second drove the air from his lungs.