Tandem of Terror (17 page)

A pair of Skrillians appeared at the far end
of the corridor from them, gawking at the trio in shock that anyone
was still left alive. Hagan whirled on them. His first shot took
off half of their leader's face. Projectiles ricocheted off the
corridor's walls as the Skrillians returned fire. "Run!" Hagan
yelled, popping off two more shots at the Skrillians as cover
fire.

Minutes later and out of breath, the shaken
humans found themselves huddled inside a storage room. There was no
sign of their pursuers. Kim sobbed uncontrollably but whether she
cried for herself or all the lives of the over one hundred
passengers and crew of the Ravenhawk that had been lost, Hagan had
no idea.

The male pleasure clone sat in a corner of
the room playing with his own body to keep its mind off what was
going on around it. Hagan averted his gaze from it, choosing
instead to inspect his T-27s. Only one of the pistols had any power
left after their short lived battle with the Skrillians as they had
fled through the ship trying to lose them. It had enough energy for
maybe five shots at best. Hagan smiled. There was one thing left
for him to do. He shot the kid first. The blast cut a hole through
the young man's brain sending him toppling over onto the floor
where he sat.

"
No!" Kim shouted. "What..."
she started but Hagan put a round into her throat silencing the
rest of her sentence. He walked over to stand above her twitching
form and fired two more shots into it. He wished it could have been
more but he needed the weapon's last one. Killing always gave Hagan
such a high. He raised the barrel of the T-27 to his temple and
laughed. The Alliance MPs would never catch him now. Sure, maybe
he'd never made it to Earth like he had intended when he'd escaped
the officer transporting him at the last stop but it was okay. He'd
had some fun after all.

The
Tank

Eric S Brown

Inside "The Tank", power to all systems
suddenly crashed. It was unthinkable. The Tank was the most secure
facility on Earth. It was the place where D.N.A. was collected from
the last living human to make the necessary clone tissue which fed
the masses of the world. Doctor Walters smiled as the lights went
out around him. Blast doors were slamming down throughout the
building, trapping workers in whatever room they happened to be in,
but much more importantly sealing the security teams out of the
Tank's main chamber. It would take them time to cut their way to
him. He'd worked here ever since a live human was discovered in
suspended animation and the idea to clone the man for a safe,
endless supply of mindless, living meat had been implemented.
Doctor Walters enjoyed consuming flesh as much as anyone who
existed but it was the only pleasure left to the un-living. He
longed to remember what it was like to be truly alive. His soul, if
he still had one, needed something to stir his emotions again. The
answer lay with the man dubbed "source material". If the man had
another name, it was long lost to the passage of time. Walters
simply referred to him as S.M.

Doctor Walters was the lead director of "The
Tank" and one of its top scientists but he was giving all that up
now. He'd planned everything so carefully. Even with his intimate
knowledge of the tank's systems and fail-safes, arranging this time
alone with S.M. took him years to set in place.

Walters walked to the tank of blue liquid
where S.M. floated. The liquid persevered S.M. and extended his
life far beyond that of a normal man if the historical records were
to be believed. S.M. was special. Supposedly, he'd been a man of
science himself and actually invented the suspended animation
system he was now kept in. His cells were special too. They were,
for a reason beyond the understanding of the Tank's science team,
impossible to duplicate with the cloning process they used unless
the genetic material was fresh. Yet a single sample could birth
over a hundred mindless shells of tissue to be fed upon.

Walters smashed the tank open. S.M. spilled
out onto the floor along with the containment fluid. Walters
watched as S.M. moaned and began to wake up for the first time in
over a century. The doctor pulled a chair over and sat down a few
feet from the man.

S.M. sat up, his eyes growing wide with fear
as he stared at Walters' rotted face which time had turned into
more bone than flesh despite the extremely slowed rate of decay the
un-living possessed.

"
We don't have much time,"
Walters informed him. "Please! I mean you no harm. I only wish to
talk."

"
T-T-Talk?" S.M stuttered as
if he were relearning how to speak.

"
Yes. I have something very
important to ask you."

"
What?" S.M. said wrapping
his arms about his naked body as he sat shivering in the pool of
blue liquid on the floor.

Walters leaned forward in his chair. He could
already hear the guards cutting their way through the last door
between them and the room. "What is it like to feel?"

S.M. looked at him with a blank expression
both stunned and perplexed by the question.

"
I need to know," Walters
urged him. "I need to remember what living is."

S.M. started to speak but at that moment, the
door crashed inwards and a trio of armored and heavily armed guards
burst into the room. Walters' head exploded in a shower of red,
spraying brain matter onto the floor. S.M. dragged himself to his
feet in an effort to run but the needles of a taser-like weapon
struck him in the back. He collapsed, flopping around like a fish
out of water until he finally lay still, unable to move.

"
Hurry!" the lead guard
ordered. "Every second he's out of the tank, he's aging. We have to
get him to the back-up suspension chamber now!"

The guards hefted S.M.'s body and carried him
from the room, leaving Walters truly dead corpse alone in the dim
glow of the emergency lights which were finally beginning to kick
on.

Man's First Child

John Grover

Jeff Reynolds sat fidgeting on the examining
table. Actually he was nervous as hell. The palms of his hands were
damp and he was sure his blood pressure was through the roof. His
wife Camille sat in the plush chair beside him. She was as nervous
as he was.

They prayed, they wondered, they hoped.

The wait and tension was getting to be too
much for Jeff. He stared into Camille's eyes and then looked at the
closed examining room door again for the hundredth time.

"
Goddammit what is taking so
long?" Jeff bellowed finally, the veins in his neck
pulsated.

"
Now that wouldn't be too
healthy for the baby now would it?" Doctor Hadmon said as he came
through the door. "Anger and stress are bad for both of
you."

Jeff rose off the table as a host of
questions exploded out of him. "Well how is it Doctor? How are the
tests? Is it healthy? Is it...normal?"

Camille rose from her chair and took her
husband's hand.

"
Calm down Jeff," the doctor
began. "Everything is perfectly healthy and "normal. Your body has
totally accepted the artificial womb Jeff, no rejection. The baby
is sleeping snugly inside and the umbilical cord is doing its job.
Everything is fine. You're still on the diet we gave you,
right?"

"
Of course," Jeff answered,
the relief evident on his face.

"
Good," the doctor
continued. "Taking your wife's egg cells and your sperm and
fertilizing them in the lab was definitely a success. The
transition into the artificial womb transpired without any
complications. All is well."

"
That's the best news we've
has since our wedding day," Camille said.

"
I'm so excited I can't stop
shaking," Jeff said, his hands still jittery.

"
Jeff," the doctor smiled, a
twinkle of pride in his eyes. "You are going to carry this baby
full term and deliver it by c-section."

Jeff and Camille hugged tightly, tears in
their eyes. Jeff never dreamed he'd be a father let alone be the
first man in the world to carry a child inside his own body.

"
Would you two like to now
the sex of the child?" the doctor asked. "We've tested for that
too."

"
No thank you," Camille
answered. "We want to be surprised. We agree to that the very first
day we made this decision. This insane, wonderful, scary decision,
ah science. It really can play God can't it?" She laughed uneasily,
trying to hide her fear.

Jeff could see right through her. Always
could.

"
Well," doctor Hadmon broke
the silence. "You're all set to go then. I'll see you again next
month. If there are any problems or if you have any questions call
me right away. Day or night."

"
Thank you doctor," Jeff
said. "Very much." A smile finally crossed his lips. Camille help
her husband redress and the two head out of the exam room, arms
around each other.

If successful this pregnancy and birth would
make medical and scientific history. The Reynolds were thrilled and
excited but also scared beyond imagining. They didn't know what to
expect. It was all new territory. They had become instant
celebrities, constantly thrust into the limelight. They were not
alone.

Doctor Hadmon would become a world famous
doctor, world renown, highly acclaimed and richer beyond his
wildest dreams.This was going to be the first child carried and
delivered by a man, not only would the parents be famous but the
child itself may never know the meaning of the word privacy.

The implications of this fertility case knew
no end. It was the most talked about thing on the news. The world
was a buzz and the questions were endless. What would Jeff go
through as the time for delivery neared? What would the baby be
like having grown inside of a male body? Would the same parental
and child bond exist? And what could this mean for mankind and
families in general? Barren and infertile couples, gay couples,
older couples, the future for these people looked incredible, it
was a hope to end all of these problems for good. Was the world
ready for this?

As Jeff and Camille left the hospital a flock
of reporters descended on the like starving vultures. A media
whirlwind was all about them, cameras flashes, pencils scribbled,
microphones sprouted out of nowhere as the questions came by the
dozens.

"
What are the results of
your tests, Mister Reynolds?" a voice called from the
pack.

"
All normal," Jeff
shouted.

"
What is the gender of the
child?" Another question came.

"
We want to be surprised!"
Camille replied on behalf of her husband.

"
How far along are you
Mister Reynolds?"

"
Four months," Jeff replied
thinking how odd that sounded. Never in his wildest dreams did he
think he would be doing something like this. He never thought of
himself as a pioneer to anything...let alone making
history.

"
Mister Reynolds? Mister
Reynolds?" the crowd began working into a frenzy and Jeff had had
enough. Fatigue and concern were washing through him.

"
Please!" Jeff shouted. "No
more questions. We really need to get home."

The two forced themselves through the crowds
and into their car. Camille started the engine and pulled from the
parking lot, getting them out of there in a hurry. Jeff watched as
the hospital and the media circus get smaller and smaller. He
sighed and smiled as he stared back at Camille. He was so lucky to
have her. He couldn't have done any of it without her.

They spent the long, peaceful drive back home
in excited silence. Actually they were speechless. It still hadn't
all sunk it. What they were actually doing still hadn't registered.
They were in the middle of something monumental. Something that
could change all of mankind.

The hospital was quite a distance from their
home and they were glad. It gave them time to calm down and unwind
before starting the routine at home once again.

Camille pulled the car slowly into the
driveway of their ranch-style home and Jeff left car first. He
entered the kitchen and checked the clock. It was time to take his
vitamins. He poured himself a glass of water and shook about seven
pink tablets from the enormous bottle on the kitchen counter into
his hand.

Camille followed behind and opened the
fridge. She placed a few packages of fresh fish into the sink to
prepare for their dinner. Jeff downed his vitamins with a full
glass of water and started for their bedroom to change into
something more comfortable.

Among the cozy style of the bedroom with its
ruffled curtains and matching bedspread was a host of religious
icons and homage. A crucifix hung above the bed. On a shelf in the
corner of the room was a statue of the Virgin Mary holding her son.
Their eyes followed Jeff wherever he walked. Portraits of the some
of the saints dotted the walls.

Jeff was raised in strict religious and
conservative family, such items were common in his house and his
mother, devout, stern, frightening, fanatical, refused to step foot
in their house unless it harbored the Lord and his son. It was the
only thing Jeff indulged in.

Camille, by contrast was a happy atheist and
did not wish to partake in Jeff's familial beliefs. Accordingly
they did not attend church or have a strict following of the
traditions, Jeff compromised graciously for his wife.