bn981@cleveland.Freenet.Edu (Ryan Mathews)
After numerous requests, I've decided to go ahead and repost this story.
Be warned: reading this story is not meant to be a pleasant experience.
"The Lovely Angels Forever"
an alternative vision of the Dirty Pair
by Ryan Mathews
"I want it on record that I strenuously object to this!"
shouted the med-tech as he strode angrily down the hall, his
shoulder-length hair flying about him wildly. "We had to
break them out of cocoon a week early thanks to your orders.
They almost went into cardiac arrest! We were damn lucky not
to lose the both of them." His black, artificial eyes blazed
as he stared across at Goulet.
Goulet kept a tight rein on his temper and tried not to
show how he was struggling to match the med-tech's pace. His
latest heart implant was only a week old and his own med-
techs had advised him to take it easy as his body adjusted to
its new organ. Bastards like this med-tech didn't make it
easy to do so. "The Central Computer wants both of them back
in action immediately. It believes they're the only pair who
can solve the current crisis, and for once, I agree with
them. You are to proceed with the regeneration regardless of
the risks."
"Oh, of course!" the med-tech screamed back. "And when
they code out on the table and we lose them, guess whose
department has to pay for it?! It's all very well for you to
give orders when you don't have to deal with the
consequences!"
thought Goulet, but
he said nothing. Sweat began to bead on his bald scalp and
he wiped it off.
They arrived at the operating room. The doors slid open
and the med-tech walked through. Goulet stopped. "Well?"
asked the med-tech. "Don't you want to watch? You always
do."
Goulet didn't want to watch. But he always felt
obligated to, as if he felt a need to punish himself for
allowing this to continue. He followed the med-tech into the
room.
Inside was a room dominated by a large "U" shaped
console. Both the right side and the base of the "U" were
fitted with telescoping arms, and a chair was attached to the
left. The console was active and hummed its readiness,
manned by white-robed aides, some of whom were "jacked" into
the device by cords that led to sockets implanted in their
skulls.
The med-tech clapped his hands. "Okay, let's get on
with it! Where is she? She should have been brought in here
by now!"
"I'm sorry, sir," apologized an aide. "This operation
was on such short notice--"
"I don't give a damn! Get her in here!"
As if on cue, two aides led an automated gurney through
a set of doors on the left. Something was on the gurney,
something completely covered by a white sheet.
The gurney was wheeled into place. The med-tech
whistled. "Okay, let's have a look." He whipped off the
sheet with a flourish.
Kei was underneath it.
Even though Goulet had been through this five times
before, he had to look away. She did not look good, even for
a corpse. Her skin was a pale blue. In their haste to
deliver her, they hadn't even bothered to close her eyes, and
so she stared at the ceiling like a deer caught in the
headlights of an oncoming car. Her beautiful mane of red
hair was now mostly charred and black. Her mouth hung open,
her blue tongue partially protruding. Her chest was a gaping
mass of shrapnel and dried gore, and several of her ribs were
visible.
The med-tech laughed. "Wow, she sure got all of that
one, didn't she? Don't worry, girl," he continued, slapping
the body on the shoulder, "we'll have you on your feet in no
time. Let's turn her over."
The med-tech and his aides lifted the body and slowly
flipped it. As she turned over, something fell out of her
chest. Goulet closed his eyes before he could identify it.
"Scalpel," said the med-tech. An aide handed him a pen-
like device. The med-tech leaned in close, the better to use
the high-resolution artificial eyes he had voluntarily
exchanged for his own. He pressed a button on the side
causing it to emit a laser, which cut a long horizontal
incision at the base of Kei's scalp. "There it is.
Extractor." The aide handed him another tool, a scissorlike
gripping device. The med-tech used it to pull, gingerly, a
small cylinder from the incision. The med-tech exhaled.
"Looks undamaged. Right. Now get the rest of it out of here
before Goulet there blows his lunch."
"No, no I'm fine," Goulet lied.
"Stage two!" shouted The med-tech. "Bring in the new
unit!"
As they wheeled the corpse back the way it came, aides
led in another gurney from a door on the opposite side of the
room. Sleeping peacefully beneath a sheet was Kei, nineteen
years old and perfect in every way. She was moved so her
head was nestled in the crook of the "U".
"Here's where it gets tricky, Goulet," The med-tech
said. He inserted the cylinder into a well on top of the
left console. Aides fitted a cuplike device attached to the
console's rear arm onto the back of Kei's head. The med-tech
took hold of arm plug on the other arm and shoved it into the
interface socket behind Kei's right ear. He turned to
another one of his aides, a bald man whose scalp was a mass
of sockets. "We're gonna need a sync-wave on this one. Jack
yourself in."
The aide nodded and sat in the chair. Two others helped
him plug himself into the console. The med-tech took a deep
breath and let it out. "Begin encoding sequence!"
Switches were thrown on the console, and the humming
grew louder. "Encoding twenty percent complete," announced
the med-tech. "Forty percent. Fifty--"
Kei choked and began to convulse on the gurney. The
aides rushed to hold her down.
"God-DAMMIT!" shouted the med-tech. "See, Goulet? This
is what I was warning you about! Increase her delta-wave
output!"
The bald aide closed his eyes as if meditating. Kei
immediately stopped moving. Her heart also stopped beating,
as a steady tone from the rear console announced.
The med-tech cursed again. "Shit! Cardio-stimulator!"
As the med-tech tore the sheet off, an aide handed him a
small floppy pad, which he placed on Kei's bare chest, and a
palm-sized controller. He pressed it. Her body spasmed, but
lay still.
"Dammit, you bitch, you are NOT going to die on me! You
cost too fucking much!!" He pressed it again. Kei spasmed
again. This time her heart caught and began beating again.
She began to cough and wheeze violently.
"Stabilize!" the med-tech ordered. The bald aide
concentrated, sweating profusely, and Kei became calm.
"Resume encoding." The med-tech read off the progress.
"Seventy percent complete, ninety, ninety-five... encoding
complete."
The med-tech drew another deep breath and wiped the
sweat off his brow. "Okay, take her to recovery. Then let's
get started on the other one."
Yuri was in even worse shape.
The year was 2161 A.D., and the universe was changing.
The last twenty years had seen nearly six hundred new worlds
colonized, with over four hundred gaining entrance to the
United Galactica. As the UG expanded, some would say out of
control, it was beginning to lose its ability to control its
members. Three civil wars had already taken place, and
dozens more were just waiting for an excuse to start.
As the galaxy became more violent, so did its criminal
element. "Planet raiders" were becoming common, immense,
heavily armed fleets that would take over fringe worlds,
strip them of whatever resources could be taken, and then
disappear before the UG could send help.
The narcotic trade had been helped by the vast increase
in technology. New drugs were being created faster than the
governments could outlaw them, forcing most governments to
either outlaw any drug it couldn't recognize, or, as many
did, to turn a blind eye to the whole problem. The largest
drug cartel openly ran three worlds.
Renegade biocomputer scientists were enjoying themselves
as well, getting rich off the illicit trade in "narcochips",
mind-software that would take you to heaven and back, making
you immune in the process so you'd have to buy another.
The violence between rival criminal factions, the most
powerful of which controlled their own navies, was
unimaginable, sometimes destroying entire planets in its
wake. The technological explosion had resulted in weapons
that made massacring trillions as simple as firing a gun. Of
course, these weapons were outlawed in the UG, as if that
made any difference to the manufacturers.
All this became quite a drain on the UG's affiliated
"troubleshooting" organization, the Worlds Welfare Work
Association. For the first time in its history, the 3WA
found itself with more work than it could handle. Massive
recruitment drives were staged, but it wasn't enough, because
deaths among the 3WA's corps of "trouble consultants" were
rising at a terrible rate.
Even when new blood could be recruited, it took time to
bring them up to speed. Meanwhile, TC's with years of
experience were being killed right and left. Just when it
seemed all hope for the organization was lost, a savior came
in the form of a long-ignored science: cloning.
The method of speed-growing an adult human body had been
known for decades, but the problem lay in the encoding of the
information in the person's brain. At that point in time,
the only known method of encoding was destructive to the
brain, and so had to be done upon death, but before brain
death. This method was fine for shriveled old millionaires,
but was useless for trouble consultants, who almost always
died in the field, far away from anyone who could safely
store their brain for encoding. Then a brilliant young 3WA
scientist discovered a new method of encoding. A small
cylindrical "cerebrocorder" was implanted at the base of the
skull. Once activated, this device kept a log of all
brainwave activity. Upon sensing imminent death, the device
forced the brain to flash-download all information into the
recorder.
Thanks to the cerebrocorder, TC's who had been dead for
months before their bodies were discovered could be
successfully recloned, with no loss of memory. The only way
to defeat the recorder was to damage it, or to kill the
victim with a blow to the brain, and even then, a reasonable
facsimile could often be reconstructed from the recorder's
logs.
The 3WA now needed very little recruiting. In the rare
cases where it found itself shorthanded, personnel could be
recloned multiple times.
The year was 2161 A.D., and a brave new world was
dawning for the UG and the 3WA.
"The Lovely Angels are waiting for you inside, sir,"
Goulet's secretary said with a smile as he passed her desk on
the way to his office.
"Good. Do you have the current data on the Seraphim?"
"Already uploaded to your office unit. And the CEO
called to confirm your appointment with him."
"Tell him I'll be there." Goulet turned to enter his
office.
"Sir," she continued, causing him to stop, "I've noticed
you've not been looking well lately. Is something wrong?"
Goulet coughed. "It's nothing. I'm giving up smoking.
The med-techs said I should, at least until my body gets used
to the heart implant."
The secretary raised a curious eyebrow. "You're
quitting cold turkey? Why not just buy a microsoft-plug and
fix the problem?"
"You mean plug a chip into my head and rewrite my faulty
`wetware'? Thanks, but I like my mind the way it is."
The secretary looked confused. "I thought you said you
wanted to quit smoking."
Goulet began to reply, then thought better of it.
"Never mind." The secretary shrugged at his comment and
returned to her work. Goulet began to open the door to his
office, then stopped to take another look at her. She was
young, in her mid-20's, small and perky with long wavy blonde
hair that covered a mass of interface jacks that went all the
way around the back of her head. Cords led from most of the
sockets into ports in various parts of her desk. They
allowed her to gather and collate data on internal operations
from all over the 3WA's Elenore City facility, with the help
of multi-processors implanted in her brain. The implants
made her an amazingly efficient secretary, with the ability
to map out Goulet's agenda for weeks in advance and
anticipate problems well before they happened.
The process of job-specific biotechnology implantation
was known informally as "becoming your job". Anyone who
wanted a successful career on a major UG world was expect to
become his or her job. Journalists were implanted with
circuits to record everything they saw or heard. Computer
technicians had diagnostic circuits implanted for direct
neural interface with the devices they were repairing.
Elementary school teachers were implanted with personality-
enhancing chips that made them perfect nurturers. Police
officers were implanted with reflex-transmitters that
bypassed the natural nervous system, and were directly
encoded with fighting techniques. Every profession, from
med-tech to prostitute, had a set of standard bodily
enhancements that went with it.
Goulet was one of the few old fogies who had bucked the
trend when it had first appeared twenty years ago. He had
consented to the two standard interface plugs behind each
ear; you couldn't operate most equipment without them. But
that was as far as he would go. His superiors were always
needling him to add some hardware: a math co-processor to
help with the quarterly budget reports, a memory manager to
allow him to keep track of twice as many trouble consultant
teams without needing to keep files of any kind. He had
always refused. When they grew too insistent, he offered to
resign.
That always shut them up. Goulet suspected that his
refusal to embrace the biotech revolution was the reason he
was still a TCM, a trouble consultant manager, after twenty
years, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt why he'd never
lost that job. He could thank the Lovely Angels, Kei and
Yuri, who were still the best the 3WA had to offer. In
twenty years and six lives, their success record was still
unblemished, although more than a few times their new clones
had had to finish a job the last ones had died working on.
The Angels had been classified as an "invaluable resource" by
the Central Computer, and Goulet had the most experience
managing them. In fact, the few times anyone else had
attempted to work with them, the results had been disastrous.
The CC wasn't about to let him go just because he refused to
be enhanced.
As he thought of the CC, Goulet reminded himself not to
talk so much in front of his secretary. In its ever
increasing thirst for data, with the laudable goal of making
the 3WA as efficient as possible, the computer took note of
everything seen, heard, or sensed by anyone connected to it
or to its auxiliary systems. And there were some things
Goulet preferred the CC not to know. Such as the real reason
he was feeling so uneasy.
He walked into his office. Sitting in front of his
desk, as they had done countless times before, were Kei and
Yuri, dressed in standard trouble consultant uniforms. Kei
was fidgeting slightly, but they perked up as he entered the
room.
"Kei, Yuri. Good to see the two of you looking so well.
How are you feeling?"
"About as well as can be expected," said Yuri. "I
understand you had to activate our new bodies prematurely?"
"Yes," confirmed Goulet, "and I'm sorry about that. But
we just discovered new info on the Seraphim, and seeing as
how you were working on them when your last clones were
killed, the CC demanded that you be brought back into action
immediately, as soon as we found your corpses."
Kei moved her right arm, testing it. "My body feels
kinda clumsy."
Goulet nodded. "That's the biggest problem you'll have
to deal with. There wasn't time to finish pre-encoding the
reflexes into the cerebellum. I'd suggest you get in some
fighting practice before your trip." The girls nodded in
agreement.
Goulet activated a holoscreen above his desk, showing a
map of Elenore's largest suburb, Ivestia. "Here's where
you're headed. The Seraphim went on the run after your last
encounter with them, but we finally tracked them down. We're
almost certain that they've holed up in Ivestia's old
abandoned sewer system."
"Pretty good choice of a hideout," commented Kei. "They
should be able to come out anywhere in the city."
"Exactly. There's almost a hundred places they could
pop up, and that's only counting the ones we know about.
There's no way we could guard them all, and as soon as we
started to seal them off, we'd lose them again. It's
imperative that we catch them now that we have the chance,
since we believe they're about to strike again."
"Where?" asked Yuri.
"As you know, the 3WA has several large-scale computer
sites in and around Ivestia." He hit a switch and several
areas were highlighted in red. "Now watch as I overlay an
outline of the old sewer system." A network of red lines
spread across the map, intersecting most of the highlighted
regions. "If they could destroy any five of these sites, the
damage would not be irreparable, but it would bring down the
Central Computer."
Both Kei and Yuri went pale as sheets. "M-my god," Yuri
stammered.
"Security-wise, it's rather an embarrassment," Goulet
continued. "Now that it's actually happened, it's hard to
believe it never occurred to anyone when they began building
the sites thirty years ago. But then, no one could have
predicted the appearance of neo-Luddite terrorists like the
Seraphim."
"We'll stop them, sir," said Yuri, the color returning
to her cheeks. "What exactly is our mission?"
"We have a secured route into the sewers. You'll be
going in there alone to search for them. You'll have heat
sensors to help guide you. Other than that, you'll have to
rely on instinct. Once you make contact, you're to kill as
many of Seraphim as possible, then call for help. We can
have 500 troops ready to go in minutes, once we know what
entrance to send them into."
"You can count on us, sir," Kei said confidently.
"That reminds me." Goulet reached into his desk. "I
have a present for you, Kei." He tossed her a bracelet.
"It's actually a high-density explosive charge. The side
panel activates a five-second timer."
"Cool." Kei put it on.
"I want to be clear, you're only to use this if you're
brought into the presence of the Seraphim leaders, and then
only as a last resort."
Kei smiled. "Understood. I don't want to blow this
body apart before I get a chance to try it out."
"What makes you think we'll get to the leaders?" Yuri
asked. "The Seraphim are brutal. The last time we got
killed before even seeing one of their lieutenants."
"I have reason to believe they'll try to take you
alive," Goulet replied. "I'm sorry, but I can't explain in
any detail. Now, I want to the both of you to go home, put
in a little practice, and get some sleep. Report to shuttle
hangar #6 at 0800 hours tomorrow morning for transportation."
"We're there," said Kei, giving him another smile.
Goulet smiled back, a bit less enthusiastically. "One
other thing. My retirement party is next week, and I'm
really hoping you'll attend."
Kei and Yuri stared at him for a long time. Finally,
Yuri spoke up. "Retirement?"
"Yes, retirement. You know, when old people stop
working?"
"I dunno," said Kei, "I guess I sorta figured you'd be
around forever, you know, like us."
"I'm too old fashioned for that," Goulet said. "So will
you be there?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," said Yuri, smiling.
After the Angels had left, Goulet breathed a sigh of sad
relief. "That's it," he said softly. "One way or the other,
it's over. It's finally over."
For a long time he sat silently at his desk. It wasn't
until he felt the wetness on his cheek that he realized he
was crying. But he wasn't surprised.
Yuri walked into her partner's bedroom to find her
posing naked in front of a mirror. "Kei? What are you
doing?"
"Just checkin' myself out. I do this everytime I get a
new body. I wanna make sure the genetics labbies did their
jobs right. Hmm," Kei mused, "I think my breasts are a
little smaller this time. What do you think?" She turned to
face Yuri.
"I think they're plenty big enough," said Yuri, annoyed.
"Now are you going to keep showing off, or go to bed?"
"Okay, okay." Kei picked a nightgown off the floor and
began to put it on. "Yuri, why would anyone want to hurt the
CC? It's barbaric."
"I don't know. It makes queasy to think about it. I'm
afraid I'll have trouble sleeping."
Later, Yuri plugged a microsoft-plug into a socket
behind her right ear and slept for precisely eight hours,
divided among all stages according to the optimal formula.
Goulet stepped into the waiting room of a much larger
office, staffed by a secretary nearly identical to his own.
"The CEO's ready to see you," she said with a perfect smile.
"You may go in whenever you please."
Goulet thanked her and walked past her desk, where an
elaborately decorated set of metal doors slid open for him.
He walked through into the office of the Chief Executive
Officer of the WWWA. Goulet had never been in this office
before, nor had he talked to the man in person since the CEO
had become his job in a major way fifteen years ago. The man
rarely gave audiences, instead letting AI duplicates of his
personality take care of such petty business. To be asked to
see him personally was nearly unheard of.
The CEO's office was dark and bare, save for his desk
and a single chair placed in front of it. What Goulet had
first thought was the CEO's hair was in fact a solid mass of
interface cables covering every inch of his scalp. They led
upward to a conduit protruding from the ceiling directly over
his desk. The wall behind him was a mass of viewscreens
showing all the data the CEO was currently "considering". He
slumped forward in his chair, thin and shriveled, and Goulet
couldn't help but wonder if the rumours that he never left
the office were true. The CEO's eyes were covered with a
small, dark, optical device; whether this was another means
for the Central Computer to communicate with him, or just
something to hide lifeless eyes, Goulet couldn't tell.
After a moment had gone by with the CEO taking no
apparent notice of his presence, Goulet cleared his throat.
The CEO immediately sat up straight, and one of the
viewscreens began to show a view of Goulet.
"Ah, Francis. I see you've arrived." The voice came
from speakers in the wall; the CEO's lips never moved. "I
must apologize for my unattentiveness. As you can see, my
mind is rather occupied at the moment."
Goulet nodded his understanding. Behind the CEO flashed
budget reports, mission plans, TC profiles, stock listings,
newscasts. Goulet wondered. "What did you want to
talk with me about?"
"Nothing too serious. I understand you retire next
week?"
"That's correct, sir."
"Please, Francis, there's no need for formality. I know
we haven't seen much of each other for a long time, but we
were once close friends. I'd like to think we still are." A
screen behind the CEO flashed a request for a meeting from
one of the directors. Goulet watched as he forked off an AI
subprocess and sent it to deal with the situation.
"Uh, sure," said Goulet, a little uneasily.
"That's better. So how are you planning on spending
your retirement?"
"I've bought a small home on Enaia. I've already
visited it. I think I'll enjoy it. Of course, these will
have to come out," he said, tapping the interface plugs
behind his ears, "but I won't mind."
"Ah, yes, Enaia," said the CEO, smiling with his
otherwise motionless mouth. "The anti-tech world. I rather
figured you'd end up there."
"I really wish people wouldn't call it that. It's not
as primitive as you make it sound. It has modern medical
facilities, modern vehicles and highways, as well a highly
advanced orbital defense system. Just no biotech. No people
shoving metal into their heads... Uh, no offense."
The CEO held up a shaky, scrawny hand. "None taken. I
deserved it for poking fun at your plans. You should know
that I have only the highest respect for you and your
abilities. I shudder to think at some of the disasters that
may not have been averted if it hadn't been for your keen
managerial talents."
thought Goulet.
"The Central Computer agrees with my assessment. In
fact, it has classified you IR, an Invaluable Resource. The
3WA simply can't afford to lose you, Francis. In light of
that, we'd like you to report to the personnel storage
department, at your convenience, of course."
Goulet shifted nervously in his seat. "Sir. I, I'm
afraid must respectfully decline."
The CEO smiled again. "Francis, I know you're a bit
jittery when it comes to modern technology, but believe me,
it's nothing. Granted, the encoding process will take a lot
longer, since you refused to accept a cerebrocoder implant,
but you'll be unconscious during the whole thing. It's
utterly painless. As for the tissue sample, it's just a skin
scraping, no worse than falling down on pavement. It'll be
over before you know it, and you'll be free to go, with our
blessings, as well as a hefty pension."
"Sir, it doesn't have anything to do with pain. I just
don't want there to be anymore me's."
This time the CEO frowned. "That's a rather self-
denigrating attitude, isn't it? Would you rather your
presence in this world ceased to exist, for all time?"
"Yes!" Goulet shouted. "I know it seems hard for you to
understand, but that's exactly what I want! I've had thirty
good years with this company; can't you just let me die in
peace?"
"Hmm. I take it back. Your attitude isn't self-
denigrating after all, it's selfish."
Goulet started to sweat.
The CEO scowled at him. "This company gave you a career
that made you the envy of half the galaxy. People would kill
to be in your shoes. And now that you've done your time, you
just want to take your body and mind and crawl off to die, is
that it?"
"I just--"
The CEO cut him off. "Where would this galaxy be if the
Lovely Angels had not consented to the cloning process when
we first developed it? How many cases would have blossomed
into disasters if Kei and Yuri hadn't been there to fix
them?"
Goulet started to laugh softly, which seemed to surprise
the CEO. "Ah, Kei and Yuri," said Goulet. "Do you they both
agreed to come to my retirement party? Agreed quite
enthusiastically, in fact."
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"Are you kidding?! Kei and Yuri would never go to a
boring party for some old fart, not even me! Yuri would say
she had a hair appointment, Kei would say she had a date. On
my fiftieth birthday, I had to trick them into coming to my
party by sending them a picture from my college days!"
The CEO shook his head. "I still don't understand why
you're upset about this. People change, Francis. Even
clones. The current incarnations have all the memories of
the previous six. You can't expect them to continue to act
as they did twenty years ago."
"It's more than that," said Goulet, wiping sweat off his
brow. "They pay perfect attention to me during briefings.
They show up on time."
"And these are bad things?"
"When I told them that there was a chance the Seraphim
could bring the Central Computer down, they almost passed
out! It was as if I had told them someone was going to kill
their mothers!"
"I believe I see where you're headed with this," the CEO
said.
"Tell me the truth," said Goulet. "Has the Central
Computer been rewriting the Lovely Angels between clonings?"
"Perhaps," the CEO replied. "What of it?"
Goulet stood up, furious. "`What of it'?!! Who gave
you the right?! These are people we're talking about, not
machines!"
"Of course they're machines. They're just
electrochemical in nature, rather than electronic."
Goulet stood motionless, stunned.
The CEO continued. "You see, Francis, it has always
been the desire of mankind to perfect the world he lives in.
The machine was invented as a tool to that end. Once mankind
had perfected his environment to the furthest extent
possible, he used the machine to reinvent and perfect
himself. Thus mankind has become his own god."
Goulet sat down in the chair, unable to speak.
"Why should we not want to make Kei and Yuri into the
perfect trouble consultants?" the CEO went on. "Perfection
is always better than the alternative, by definition."
"No," said Goulet, finally finding the strength to talk.
"You're wrong. The Lovely Angels were so successful
precisely because of their imperfections. When they were
thrust into an `insolvable' problem, the situation was made
so chaotic that it could not be maintained, and a solution
would present itself."
"You speak as if the Angels are no longer successful.
They still have yet to fail to solve a case."
"I hardly call six deaths in twenty years a perfect
record. Besides... I liked them better imperfect."
The CEO was silent for a moment. Then he spoke. "This
discussion is irrelevant. I have more important matters to
attend to. You will report for encoding at your earliest
convenience. If you find it distasteful, pretend your clone
doesn't exist. On that backward world you're about to settle
on, that shouldn't be a problem."
The CEO slumped forward again and the doors to the
office slid open. Goulet stood up and headed out, squinting
against the light.
The Lovely Angels crept quietly through the ancient
Ivestian sewers, as they had been doing for the last three
hours. The sewers were almost pitch black, and the girls saw
by infra-red lanterns and night-vision contact lenses.
"This is stupid," Kei complained. She "talked" to Yuri
through a telepathic audio link. It allowed the two to
exchange signals directly between the language and audio
centers of their brains. "We'll never find them at this
rate."
"Goulet said for us to use our instincts," Yuri said.
"What does your instinct tell you?"
"It tells me this is a waste of time."
The two walked silently along the dark tunnel, Yuri
panning the lantern around, hoping for a glimpse of anything
that could point them toward the Seraphim hiding place.
Kei checked the heat sensor again. "Hey! I think I
found somebody! Oh, phooie, never mind. It's too small.
Must be another rat."
"Oh, yuck, where?" asked Yuri, alarmed.
"Oh, don't be such a baby. The rats haven't bothered
us. We haven't even seen one."
Yuri thought she caught a glimpse of movement. She
turned the lantern, but it was only the reflection off a
piece of debris. "Kei, doesn't that seem weird? Rats are
timid, but not that timid. We should have seen one by now,
considering how many we've picked up on the sensor."
"So?"
"So, it occurred to me--" Yuri caught another flash of
movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned; there was
nothing there. "It occurred to me that a man wearing an
insulating suit, with just a tiny opening for his breath to
escape, might have a similar heat signature to that of a
rat."
Kei blinked. "Wow. You might be right. I'll start
looking for rats." Kei readjusted the sensor. "Oh boy."
"What?"
"Well, according to this, we're surrounded by rats.
They've made a circle around us and are following us
forward." Kei shifted the heat sensor to her left hand and
drew her gun. Yuri swallowed and did the same.
Yuri lowered the intensity of the infra-red lantern, the
better to see the "rats" with their own eyes. Kei drew a
bead on one of them and prepared to fire.
"NOW!" someone shouted. All around the Angels,
floodlights came on. Kei and Yuri screamed as they were
instantly blinded.
"Get them wrapped up, now!" shouted someone. Kei fired
at the sound of the voice and was rewarded with a grunt and
the sound of a falling body.
A narrow concussion-beam tore through Yuri's shoulder.
A chip implant intercepted the pain signal from her nervous
system, analyzed the injury with the help of several other
implants, declared it to be minor, and let Yuri feel only a
tiny prick. The sense of immediate threat to Yuri's life
caused an oversystem to come on-line and swap Yuri's
personality for one more suited to dealing with heavy combat.
Seven-tenths of a second after being hit, Yuri dropped,
rolled, and killed her attacker with a single shot.
Kei still saw only spots, so she switched to a secondary
sensor-net imbedded in her skin. It was low-resolution, but
served its purpose. A co-processor in her brain swiftly
analyzed the positions of her attackers and reported back
with an optimal plan of attack. Kei weaved through opposing
fire, taking out three more of the enemy.
With a face as cold as ice, Yuri continued her attack.
One of the Seraphim fired a constrictor cable at her, which
began to wrap itself snugly around her waist. Another
implant began dumping adrenaline into her bloodstream.
Grunting, Yuri strained against her bonds, making progress.
A panicked Seraphim soldier ran up, grabbed her around the
neck, and jammed a microsoft-plug into her interface jack.
The program took effect, and Yuri immediately fell
unconscious.
Kei saw what had happened to her friend. In the
moment's distraction, a soldier fired another constrictor at
her. Utilizing hard-wired reflexes, she jumped nimbly out of
the way and blasted the cable's control box, making it
useless. The soldier cursed and dodged for his life as Kei
attacked. Another pulled a gun and shot Kei in the back
three times, with darts. Kei turned to shoot him, but the
drug took effect and down she went.
The soldier who had shot her walked calmly up to her
with another plug. "Wait!" said another. "First get her gun
away!"
Implants in Kei's endocrine system analyzed the
tranquilizer, searched through a library of known drugs,
found a match, and began to stimulate her glands to produce a
counteragent. As the soldier reached for her gun, Kei came
back to life and blew a hole through his chest.
"Pile on!" shouted another. "It's the only way!"
Kei found herself under a pile of soldiers. She killed
two more before she was relieved of her gun. Someone managed
to shove the plug into her jack and she went limp.
Goulet admonished himself to stop being paranoid. As he
walked back to his office, he felt as if everyone's eyes were
upon him. They probably were, but he reminded himself that
this was nothing special. After all, he was Francis Goulet,
the crazy old coot who refused all but the simplest implants,
and yet had managed to make himself a legend in his field.
He was a minor celebrity; he had learned to expect attention.
But this attention was different. He didn't feel awe
from the people who glanced at him as he walked by. It was
more of a cold interest, as if they were merely taking note
of where he was and what he was doing.
Goulet worried that he had made a mistake by arguing
with the CEO as he had. Speaking with him, or with
practically any 3WA employee for that matter, was to speak to
the Central Computer. Goulet knew that the CC thought highly
of him, and trusted him, due to his thirty years of exemplary
service. He'd need that trust if he was to accomplish what
he planned, but now he feared he may have lost it.
"So how did the meeting go?" Goulet's secretary asked
him cheerfully as he entered his office.
"Pretty much as I expected."
"It's not so bad, you know."
Goulet blinked. "What's not so bad?"
"Being cloned. My clone's my best friend, sorta like a
sister. We get along great."
"Y-you've..." Goulet started.
"You mean you didn't know? Oh, I'm so sorry. Yeah, I
had it done last month. She works upstairs in analysis.
Except on Thursdays, when she fills in for me here on my day
off." The secretary giggled. "They did a pretty good job,
huh? Even you couldn't tell us apart!"
Goulet walked into office, shut the door behind him, and
tried to stop hyperventilating. They had cloned his
secretary, and never told him. Perhaps he was wrong.
Perhaps the CC's trust in him was diminishing. If so, Goulet
hoped it was because the CC thought him to be irrational, not
a threat.
He decided to finish his job immediately. He took a
deep breath to calm himself, opened the door, told his
secretary he was going out for a late lunch, and left.
"Well, here they are. What do want done with them?" The
Seraphim soldier carried Yuri over his back, another next to
him carried Kei. The hoods of the soldiers heatsuits were
pulled back, revealing the faces of young men.
He was addressing a woman clad in a green jumpsuit that
hid all of her body except her eyes, which were covered by
reflective lenses. "Just put them down here, Ross. We want
to talk with them."
The soldiers unceremoniously dumped the Angels on the
ground. Another woman, in a red but otherwise identical
suit, walked up to take a look. "So. We finally meet these
guys. I guess it had to happen eventually."
"Well, I'd like to know why!" yelled Ross. "These girls
are animals! We had them outnumbered thirty-to-one, and they
still wouldn't stop coming! We lost ten men! I still stay
we should've blown 'em away like the last time!"
The green woman motioned for Ross to calm down. "I
understand your misgivings. Our contact said they had
something important to tell us. Believe me, I'm as mystified
as you are."
"I just don't think the answer is worth ten lives," Ross
replied.
"We'll know soon enough," said the red woman. "You and
Tony better wait outside. We'll yell if we need you."
Ross was flabbergasted. "Y-you can't be serious! These
women are butchers!"
"You removed their weapons, didn't you?" asked the red
woman.
"Yes, but--"
"But what? You think they have explosives hidden in
their tits?"
The green woman sighed. "Crude as always, Red."
"I should know by now it's pointless to argue with you.
Come on, Tony." The two soldiers left the room, closing the
door behind them.
The two women removed the plugs from Kei's and Yuri's
sockets and waited for them to come around, which took only
seconds.
"So we meet at last," said the green woman. "You must
be the Dirty Pair."
"Lovely Angels," growled Kei.
The red woman laughed. "I see one thing hasn't
changed."
Yuri slowly stood up, checking to see if the women would
object. "You two, you lead the Seraphim?"
"We founded the Seraphim," the green woman said.
Kei stood as well, sneering. "It's just like terrorists
to hide their faces."
"Oh, we aren't hiding them from you," replied Red. "Our
troops' confidence in us might be compromised if they knew
our identities. They understand this."
"Then you're willing to show us who you are?"
"We plan to."
While attention was focused on Kei, Yuri's hand snuck to
a secret compartment sewn into the top of her uniform. She
silently withdrew the Bloody Card. In one swift motion, she
sent it flying toward the green woman's neck.
The green woman leaned to one side and deftly caught the
Card between her index and middle fingers. "Thanks," she
said, pocketing it. "I needed a spare. I think we've left
these poor creatures hanging long enough, Red. Let's make
everything clear."
The women took off their reflective glasses, then pulled
back the hoods. Both were in their late thirties, but their
faces were still instantly recognizable.
"Not quite what you expected, huh?" the older Kei asked
with a laugh.
Goulet walked swiftly and purposefully through the
corridors of the complex's genetics facility. It was
important that he looked as if he belonged there, so his
unscheduled visit wouldn't raise too many eyebrows.
He walked up to a door marked "PERSONNEL STORAGE
FACILITY 34F", and slid his ID card into slot next to it,
praying his security clearance would still work. It did.
The door slid open. To Goulet's disappointment, the
room was occupied. A single tech walked down the rows of
cerebrocorder storage cabinets, taking inventory. Goulet
cleared his throat.
Startled, the tech turned in his direction. "Oh, Mr.
Goulet," he said, "what are you doing here?"
"I, uh, need to check on the progress of the next set of
Lovely Angel clones. Considering the mission they've been
sent on, we may need them soon."
"We haven't even begun a culture, sir. And even if we
had, it would take us at least three weeks to produce
workable units. I wasn't aware that of any order to begin."
"There isn't one yet. But you should be aware that one
could come down at any moment. May I inspect their
cerebrocorders? We may not be able to recover them this
time, so I'd like to be assured that the last set is in good
shape."
"Uh, sure." The tech led him to one of the cabinets.
"Third shelf from the top."
Goulet removed two cylinders marked "KEI 5/23/61" and
"YURI 5/23/61". He turned them over in his hand. "Hmm. A
little dented, but otherwise okay. Just be sure to be
careful with them. We can't afford to lose valuable data
like this."
The tech looked a little confused. "Sir, we always obey
strict safety protocols when handling the recorders."
"Of course you do. I'm sure you do an excellent job.
Pardon me for being a little nervous." Goulet reached to put
the cylinders back on the shelf, but as he did so, he palmed
them instead and replaced them with two others, identically
marked. "May I see the tissue samples?"
"Uh, sure. This way." The tech led him to a door set
into the wall. "It's a little cold in here. Are you sure
you want to go in? I can assure you, the samples are
perfectly safe."
"Please humor me," said Goulet. "You don't know how
much sleep I've been losing. There really is a chance we
won't recover anything of the Lovely Angels after this
mission and I have to reassure myself."
"Okay, if it'll make you feel better," the tech said.
He worked the controls and the door opened.
Goulet stepped into a huge, cold, dimly lit chamber. On
shelves were row after row of labeled test-tubes. "Where are
they?"
"This way."
The tech led Goulet to a certain shelf, where he found
two test-tubes labeled in the same manner as the
cerebrocorders, only with an earlier date. "Could be just
salt-water in here."
The tech laughed. "Sir, you really are paranoid. Trust
me, there are cells in that fluid."
"I believe you." He put the tubes back on the shelf.
As he did so, he activated a tiny device in his palm that
irradiated them. "Tell me, where are your backup samples?"
"Backups? We don't have any. I mean, the samples are
backups themselves. We can always get more tissue from the
subjects, even if they're dead."
"But as I said, this time there may be nothing left."
The tech thought about it. "You're right, sir. I'll
talk to my superiors about that. Thanks."
"No, thank you for putting my mind at ease. I'm glad
Kei and Yuri are in such good hands."
The tech beamed as Goulet left, then reported his
position and direction to the Central Computer, as requested.
"This is bullshit!" said the younger Kei, indignantly.
"You can't be us! We'd never betray the 3WA."
"Besides," added the younger Yuri, "you're dead! I
mean, we should know!"
The elder Yuri patiently pulled her long black hair out
of the folds of her hood and tossed it into place. For women
of their age, the Angels were still exquisitely beautiful.
The stress of their lifestyle was showing, of course, and
lines had appeared around the eyes, but other than that, the
years had been very kind. "No," she said, "you wouldn't
betray the 3WA. And you're right, we're not you."
"Then you're frauds?" said the younger Kei.
Her older double turned to her partner. "Yuri, was I
really that stupid?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?"
The younger Yuri was concentrating, eyes closed. The
old Yuri noticed. "If you're trying to activate your
transmitter implant, don't bother. Our chambers are
shielded. Besides, you're nowhere near where you think you
are.
"Anyway," she continued, "as for us being dead. You
have memories of that?"
"Of course," replied the younger Yuri. "Our ship was
attacked by pirates. We defeated them, but lost the ship.
Then the escape pod malfunctioned and crashed."
"Not bad," the older Kei said. "The writers must have
worked all night on that."
"Our memories are *not* fake!" her younger twin shouted
back. "That really happened! You can read the report in the
3WA's database!"
"And the 3WA would never lie?" asked the older Yuri.
"Of course not," replied the younger one.
"Well, I'm afraid they did. We never got killed in
action. We quit. Kei and I were already getting fed up with
all the implants they were pushing on us. This cloning
business was the last straw. We didn't want to be cyborgs
and we didn't want to be cloned, so we quit."
The older Kei picked up, "But they ordered us to have
our brains encoded before we left. They claimed it was just
for a complete record of all the information we gathered
while we were TCs. But they must have taken a tissue sample
when we were unconscious, because as soon as we left, they
started turning out clones."
"Even if you're telling the truth," the younger Yuri
said, "why are you doing this? We would never become
terrorists!"
The older Yuri raised her eyebrows. "Terrorists? Is
that what they're calling us? Funny, seeing as how all we've
attacked have been 3WA computer and tech installations. The
only people killed have been the security who tried to stop
us."
"Why?" demanded the younger one again.
The older Kei walked right up to her, causing her to
take a nervous step back. "Because the 3WA isn't run by
human beings anymore, that's why! It's run by a collection
of cyborgs, clones, and the Central Computer. When we were
in the 3WA, the CC was a tool. We followed its suggestions
because we knew we had built it well, and so we trusted it to
make the right decisions. But the humans were in control. I
don't think that's true anymore, and looking at you two
artificial ditzes, I'm sure of it!"
"Leave her alone, you bitch!" shouted the younger Kei.
The older one looked at her and smiled. "You wanna take
me on?"
"Anytime."
"Kei!" admonished the older Yuri. "Both of you, knock
it off!"
"Please," said the younger one. "I want to understand
why you're doing this."
The older one sighed. "We were enjoying our early
retirement when we began to read about the exploits of our
clones. You guys made our rep look squeaky clean by
comparison. I mean, three billion dead on Wanysta--"
Young Kei cut in, "You destroyed planets too!"
"Yeah, by accident! Not on purpose! Oh, the media
played up the terrible tragedy of the `nuclear malfunction',
but we knew better! You set off the satellites yourselves,
didn't you?"
"Wanysta was supplying weapons to three civil wars in
the quadrant," said young Kei. "They also ran drugs. At
least a thousand people a day were being killed because of
them."
"So you wiped out an entire planetary civilization to
stop it?"
"Hey, it worked! It's more peaceful over there than
it's been in seventy-five years!"
"I think I'm gonna be sick," said the older Kei.
"It's true, then," said the older Yuri. "The CC has
been using you to clean out problem areas of the galaxy,
blaming the devastation on your legendary bad luck. Kei and
I always figured that was it, that's one reason why we came
back. But we didn't have any proof until now.
"To answer your question, Yuri," she continued, "we
represent an organization of businesses and governments who
are afraid of the 3WA and want to replace it with something
more human. But first, we have to get the 3WA out of the
way."
"We won't let you," said young Kei.
"And how are you going to stop us?" asked the older Kei.
"Simple," said young Kei, with an evil glint in her eye.
"Like this!" And she took off her bracelet and threw it to
the floor.
The older Angels recognized the bomb and lunged for the
door, but a second later, it exploded.
Goulet approached his office to find two armed security
guards waiting for him. "What's this about?" he asked.
His secretary smiled apologetically. "They said they
have business with you. I asked them if they could come back
later, but--"
The taller guard waved her off. "We're to take you to
personnel storage immediately."
"I plan to report there tomorrow," Goulet reassured him.
"I understand that, sir, but the CC has become aware of
some irregularities in your behavioral patterns. It knows
that you don't want to be encoded and doesn't want to take
any chances. You're to come with us to the transfer facility
now."
Goulet sighed. "Very well. May at I least have a few
minutes alone in my office to take care of some pressing
business?"
The guards expression went blank as he conferred with
the Central Computer. "That would be acceptable."
Goulet nodded and walked past him into his office. He
closed the door and sat down at his desk. "`Behavioral
irregularities, hmm?'" he said softly. Goulet was surprised
that the guards hadn't searched him. Not that it would have
mattered: he'd dropped the two cerebrocorders into a waste
incinerator on the way back, just as he had done to all the
backups over the past three weeks.
Perhaps the CC wasn't entirely aware of what Goulet
planned after all. Whatever the case, Goulet knew it made no
difference. Unless he acted now, the 3WA would have an
infinite supply of Goulet-clones at its disposal, and as long
as that was the case, they'd find some way to bring the Dirty
Pair back, probably in multiple incarnations, each with its
own Goulet to manage them. Each Goulet would be perfect,
free of those nagging little imperfections like free thought
and doubt of the CC's will. The Dirty Pairs would descend on
the galaxy like surgeons, destroying those parts that had
been diagnosed as cancerous.
Well, that wasn't going to happen, Goulet decided. He
opened his desk and pulled out a palm-terminal. He'd planned
to do this after work, in the privacy and comfort of his
home, but there was no longer any time to wait. He opened a
secret compartment on the terminal and pulled out an
explosive bracelet, the one he was supposed to have given to
Kei.
"Let's see you bastards try to encode this," he
whispered. He activated the timer and placed the bracelet in
his mouth.
Five seconds later, Goulet retired.
The older Kei and Yuri relaxed and turned back from the
door as they realized they weren't dead. The bracelet
continued to pop and crackle on the floor, but it was
obviously not a bomb.
"What the hell's going on here?!" shouted the younger
Kei. "Why didn't it blow up?"
The bracelet settled down and began a slow, steady hum.
>From the center, a glowing, swirling aura emerged and grew,
until it was about two meters tall. The aura then began to
change color and shape. Both Keis and Yuris stared as it
formed itself into a likeness of Francis Goulet.
The hologram of Goulet spoke. "If this device has been
activated, I can assume that I am in the presence of both the
original Lovely Angels as well as their latest clones. It's
the older pair that I need to talk to." Goulet looked at the
ground for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I don't
really know how to say this so that it doesn't sound
hollow... hollow and worthless. I just want to say that I'm
sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I never wanted us
to turn into this.
"Since you left, I've been placed in charge of a series
of duplicates, each one more soulless and destructive than
the last. Each one less human and more mechanical. I've
supervised their missions, even convinced myself that all the
tragic disasters were accidents, just like yours. But I
can't anymore.
"Please understand, I always thought of you as my
daughters." Goulet stopped and smiled. "Okay, unruly
teenage daughters. For all the times I yelled at you, for
all the times you made me drain a bottle of antacid, I still
grew to treasure our relationship. I don't know, maybe
that's why I allowed myself to play this role for so long.
Maybe I thought things would be the same, could stay the same
forever.
"I've always imagined that the two of you blamed me for
this. It's always grated on me, and as I stand here, about
to retire, I have decided to put it straight, to undo my
terrible betrayal of you.
"I have destroyed all the electronic brain-records of
Kei and Yuri that I know to exist. I have done the same with
the tissue samples. I have delivered the only existing
records of the Lovely Angels' minds and genetic structure
into your hands. They're standing before you. I trust you
to do the right thing.
"Kei, Yuri, if you can find it in your hearts, please
forgive me. I know that might be hard, seeing as how the
recent battles have probably hardened you. But I will always
remember you as you were: smiling, laughing, cracking silly
jokes, driving me up the wall. And I will always love you.
Farewell."
The hologram fizzled and disappeared.
The clones stared at the empty space, confused. "I
don't understand," the clone of Yuri whispered. "I don't
understand."
Yuri wiped tears off her cheek. "Oh, Goulet, you silly
old idiot. We never blamed you. Now what do we do?"
"What do mean, what do we do?" asked Kei. "We were
planning to kill them anyway, right?"
"I don't understand," said the clone of Kei, staring
blankly ahead.
"That was different," Yuri replied. "We wouldn't really
be killing them. They could be brought back. I don't know
if I can kill my own clone in cold blood."
"If you feel squeamish about it, I'll do it. Shit, will
you look at them?"
The clones had gone silent, but had started looking
around the room, like they couldn't remember where they were.
"I think their programming crashed," said Yuri.
"Goulet's loyalty was an important part of their universe.
The artificial personality routines must not have known how
to handle such an obvious betrayal."
"And you feel guilty about killing those things?"
Yuri didn't reply. She stared at her clone, who looked
back at her like a confused child.
"Think about it," Kei continued. "What are we going to
do with them? If they sort their programming out, they'll be
to dangerous to take with us. And if we leave them here, the
3WA will eventually come looking for them and we'll lose our
headquarters. Again!"
"You're right," Yuri sighed. "We better put our masks
on first." She put on her hood and glasses, then pulled her
gun and aimed it at her clone. Kei did the same.
"I'm so sorry about this," said Yuri.
"Why?" the clones asked.
Kei and Yuri each fired once, hitting the clones
squarely between the eyes.
Ross came running back into the room, gun drawn. "I
heard shots!"
"I thought I told you not to come in here unless we
called for you," admonished Red.
"Well, you can't expect me to just stand out there and
let you be killed!" He noticed the bodies on the floor.
"Wow. You executed them?"
"We had to," said Green. "I didn't enjoy it."
"What do you want done with the bodies?"
"Incinerate them," said Red.
Kei and Yuri left the room and headed for the surface.
Of the myriad routes available to them, they chose the most
direct.
---FIN
---------- Ryan Mathews
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