Chapter 12
Chris awoke to find himself in a small room. His head felt fuzzy and he had no idea of where he was. His mouth was dry and tasted like dust.
He had vague, confused memories of sleeping on the floor of a small ship; half waking and dragging himself out of a heavy stupor; voices speaking in the background. A concentrated pressure on his shoulder and the hiss of a hypo spray injection. Emptiness. The sensation of being carried on a stretcher and wondering if he had been in an accident. A familiar male voice congratulating himself on how good he was. Javis.
The room Chris was in had light blue walls and no furniture except for the inflatable mattress he was lying on. It was windowless and the walls and brown carpeted floor gave off a low-grade vibrational hum which could be felt more easily than heard, the kind of sensation you would learn to quickly ignore. A small toilet and sink were in one corner. The entire ceiling radiated a dim, seemingly full spectrum light, reminding Chris of the lighting used on space stations. The low-grade vibration emanating from the floor supported the idea.
A space station. I was going to a space station. I was traveling with a woman. Kelly Turner. I was on an assignment. Traveling from Corbin III to....... Cavanaugh Station. Javis was aboard. He must have gassed us. He must be a mole, also. They had two people working on the planet, and possibly one at Intergalactic Headquarters. Maybe more in both locations.
Chris also noticed his clothing had been removed. This could have been done as a way to intimidate him causing feelings of insecurity, or as a way to eliminate any hidden weapons. Chris’ hand went to his neck. The video medallion was gone.
He sat, mentally silent for a few moments, calming himself. Self-reproach would accomplish nothing, and wild speculation without more facts was also a waste of energy. His immediate goals were to conserve energy and gather more info.
Chris took another look around the room and saw nothing he could use as a tool. He focused his attention on the door. Getting up, he checked to see if it was locked before assuming he was a prisoner. It was locked. He flipped the mattress over and inspected it thoroughly. Still nothing he might be used as a tool or a weapon. He did notice two power outlets and a communications jack built into one of the walls.
As a prisoner he would have to play the waiting game. Waiting for an opportunity to escape, or, at the very least, an opportunity to gather more information. For some reason they had chosen not to eliminate him. He also had to consider Kelly. If they hadn’t killed him, there was a higher probability she was still alive.
He felt a personal responsibility for Kelly’s safety. Screw the corbinite at this point. If I can get Kelly and myself out of here alive, I’ll be thrilled. But what if the opportunity to take the corbinite with us presents itself? Don’t limit yourself. If an opportunity presents itself, I’ll take the corbinite with us. But our lives first, particularly hers.
He performed a brief series of yoga stretches to get rid of the various kinks in his body, particularly enjoying the plow and cobra positions. Lying down on the mattress in the shavasana position he exhaled and began the process of calming himself and relaxing his muscles so as not to exhaust himself with unnecessary worrying or stress. It took ten minutes to relax his musculature down to a deep tissue level. After a timeless period of meditation, which lasted for a little over fifteen minutes, he heard voices outside the door.
Chris opened his eyes and rolled to a sitting position just as the door slid open. Two uniformed and armed guards walked in, followed by two men and a woman. Chris immediately recognized Raymond Ginyit, a criminal wanted by Terran and Martian police for a variety of thefts and murders. He was a perfect candidate for masterminding the corbinite theft.
Ginyit appeared to be in his early nineties. His hair was brown, full and curly, salted with gray. He had a patrician’s nose, soft, dark brown eyes, and thin lips. Overall, his face was bland, normal looking, and easy to forget. The forgetability of his face had served Ginyit well over the years. He looked coldly at Chris.
The other man looked vaguely familiar, but Chris couldn’t place him. Chris became tense at the sight of him. He was a bald man with a soft expressionless face. His flat nose seemed too large for his face and his eyes had an odd, unfocused look.
The woman was not at all familiar, but had a strange blank expression on her attractive face. She was more pretty than beautiful, with freckles and a pert little nose.
He wondered where Javis was.
Chris decided to act self-confident, perhaps even a little cocky and insulting. They wanted him alive, for whatever reason, or he would have been dead by now. “Welcome to my humble abode,” Chris said, standing and making no effort to hide his nudity. “Ioffer you seats, but furniture seems to be a little sparse at the moment.”
Ginyit looked at Chris and smiled. “Is this him?” he asked the other man.
The other man looked at Chris, smiling and absurdly happy about something. “Yes, this is him,” the man said proudly. “Christopher Black. Human clone. Experiment 12.”
The hair on the back of Chris’ neck stood up.
Turning to Chris, the vaguely familiar man continued, “You have no idea how happy I am to see you. I can’t wait to continue our experiments.”
Now the hairs on the back of Chris’ neck felt as though they were doing somersaults. “Who are you?” Chris asked.
“Ah. You don’t recognize me. We have met before. You were a baby at the time. My name is Doctor Liechter.”
Chris felt his stomach twist as he realized this was the man who was responsible for impregnating his mother with a clone. This man was responsible for Chris’ birth and for performing mind experiments on him as an infant. The idea of being in his control once again brought up ancient fears Chris had forgotten existed. He reacted automatically by breathing slowly and deeply, relaxing the fear and tension out of his body.
“No, I didn’t recognize you. I thought you were dead. What a shame you’re not,” Chris said.
“You’re not happy to see me?” Liechter said, as he moved closer to Chris and gave him a visual examination. My research has come a long way. This time we should be able to transfer the memories of your original without any problems.
Chris noted the doctor’s pupils were dilated and wondered if it were an emotional response to the anticipation of experimenting on Chris, or if he was on some kind of drug. “What exactly do you mean?”
Peering at Chris, Liechter answered. “You were originally part of an experiment to transfer memories from a host to a cloned receptacle. Typically, transferring memories from one person to another leads to insanity after a few months. There has been success transferring memories from one twin to another, however, because their thinking processes and brain patterns are similar. With any luck, you’ll be able to retain your donor’s memories without going insane, providing your donor with a form of immortality.”
“And if there’s a problem, I get to suffer the consequences. Who was my donor?”
“There will be no problems,” Ginyit interrupted softly. Although he maintained a friendly attitude, he disliked Black intensely. Ginyit didn’t like the man’s display of unbroken confidence and was irritated by the smell of him. If it hadn’t been for Liechter, he would have ordered a quick interrogation and execution.
Ginyit made a quick assessment of Chris. He looked to be a lean, healthy human with good muscle tone. The eyes were quick and intelligent. With the exception of his cavalier attitude, nothing about him suggested aggressive tendencies. No hostility in the body language, no hatred in the eyes. In spite of his smell, the man was no immediate threat.
Chris turned his attention to the infamous Raymond Ginyit. His ability to remain unmemorable due to his lack of distinguishing characteristics had given him an edge during his criminal career. He had a heavyset, soft looking body, but Chris suspected a dense musculature under that soft layer of fat. His eyes were large black holes, taking in information and expressing nothing.
According to reports his voice could be a powerful tool. It was the voice of a man who assumed authority and projected a degree of charisma. If the reports were correct he had received charisma training in his youth.
Raymond Ginyit’s psychological profile described him as a technological genius and seemingly without morals. Although he apparently enjoyed killing, and felt no remorse, his primary goals were always profit oriented. It appeared his brain was wired differently from the norm, making him difficult to predict. It was theorized physical and emotional sensations were felt only distantly by him. To provide stimulation, to feel alive, Ginyit had to create situations causing intense emotions.
Ginyit spoke to Chris in a calm and friendly voice. “You will cooperate with Dr. Liechter. You will not try to escape or you will be killed. You may be important to Dr. Liechter, but not to me. Later, you and I will talk. I would like to discuss Mars and your views of the League.” Turning to Liechter he said, “You may stay if you wish. I’ll be returning to my chambers.”
Ginyit left, but the guards and the blank-faced woman stayed with Liechter.
“You just don’t seem to realize how much work I put into your creation,” said Liechter. “I had to completely rebuild the telomere endings of your chromosomes. Creating a fully functional clone isn’t as easy as some people think.”
“Who was my donor?” Chris asked again.
“I don’t know very much about him. I purchased him and four other cryogenically preserved bodies a few months before you were born. He was frozen in the early 21st century. All records about him were destroyed before I purchased him.“
“How are you going to transfer the memories of a popsicle into my brain?”
“With the help of a computer. I was able to electrically stimulate approximately 85% of the memories and record them to a holographic memory chip,” Liechter said happily. “Transferring the memories from a holo chip to a recipient is a fairly easy process, and the way I typically perform the procedure of memory implants.”
“Is there any chance of reviving the donor?” asked Chris.
“No. None what so ever. Even if we could repair the damage to his body from whatever accident he was in, the damage from their primitive freezing process is too extensive. But, he may live again through you. Besides, I have no interest in reviving him. He’s more useful to me in his current state.”
The woman behind Liechter caught Chris’ eye. Her facial expression hadn’t changed since she had entered the room, and, other than a slight swaying from side to side, she hadn’t moved.
“What’s the matter with her?” Chris asked, hoping Liechter would continue to answer his questions.
“There’s nothing the matter with her. This is the way she’s supposed to be,” Liechter answered with a smile. “This is Pam. Pam is one of my clone experiments. The original donor is one of the five bodies I purchased. The brain tissue was too badly damaged for memory transfer experiments, but I have her body frozen and can create an infinite number of Pams as servants. There are eight right now. I speed their growth and implant electronic controls in their brain tissue. They can learn, but have limited thinking capabilities. They make marvelous serving girls. The only problem with them at this point is, if you leave them alone for too long, they commit suicide. As soon as I work out that one little bug, we can begin mass producing them and selling them on the blackmarket.”
Slavery! Chris thought, but said nothing, wanting to keep Liechter involved in seemingly casual conversation. He looked closely at Liechter’s eyes. I think he’s high as a kite.
“And how are you planning to profit from clone memory transfers?” asked Chris.
“Well, Raymond Ginyit will be my first customer. He wants a backup of himself in case he’s ever killed. Then, whoever wants a shot at immortality and has the money to pay will provide me with a profit.”
“What happened to the woman who was traveling with me?”
“I have no idea, I was so excited to find out you were arriving I didn’t ask about other prisoners,” said Liechter. “Well, I must be going. I’ll see you in a few hours. Come along, Pam.”
Liechter left, followed by Pam and the two guards.
Chris sat on the floor, leaning his back against the wall opposite the door, his legs extended and crossed at the ankles, and thought about the situation. He knew he was on a space station, most likely the Cavanaugh Station. And the Cavanaugh Station was a base for illegal activities.
Raymond Ginyit and Dr. Liechter seemed to be in charge of his captivity, meaning they had some kind of pull on the station. How much was an unknown. Dr. Liechter was, at the least, an expert on cloning and memory transfers. He also seemed to have no moral structure. Liechter was in good company, because his employer had no moral structure either. This had been proven time and again by his rapes and murders.
The last time Chris had checked, Ginyit was believed to be responsible for forty-nine rapes and two hundred and eighty-three murders. All of the rape victims, children, women, and men included, had been murdered.
Ginyit had been born on a small, isolated colony whose inhabitants claimed to be the children of God; all outsiders were considered the spawn of Satan. As with many religious cults of this nature they had self-destructed, committing mass suicide. When Ginyit was a teenager, he and three other young teenagers had been put on a small shuttle set for auto-pilot and aimed at Terra, just prior to the mass suicide. After arriving on Terra, all four teens had received extensive psychological treatment. Three of them were leading normal productive lives.
Raymond Ginyit was the exception. Initially, his counselors had believed him to be a healthy young teenager. Only much later had he been diagnosed as schizophrenic with extremely violent tendencies, and a genius I.Q. No one could be certain of Ginyit’s childhood history but it was theorized strong feelings of anger had been associated with his early sexual experiences and he had a deep rooted hatred of his parents. It was understood the subject had to relive those same emotions to achieve sexual gratification.
Moving on, Chris thought to himself. Let’s focus on best case and worst case scenarios. The best case scenario would be I escape, rescue Kelly, find and retrieve the corbinite, capture Liechter and Ginyit, and turn them over to the authorities. The worst case would be Kelly and I both become guinea pigs for Liechter experiments, and when he’s thru with us, Ginyit slowly tortures us and then kills us. I think my highest priorities should be escaping and finding Kelly.