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  “That’s enough, Sarah,” I protested.

  “I’m surprised the Iron Chancellor sent for us,” Sarah ranted on, not missing a beat. “She can always have another Katrina cloned, you know, a newer, better version of Katrina.”

  “Sarah,” I snarled, slamming my fist down on the table.

  "She's a person, Sully. Just like me, with a soul and dreams of her own!" Sarah looked at me with rage in her eyes, rage meant for me. "If something happens to me, don't clone me, Sully! Because it won't be the same Sarah! It will be someone different who just looks exactly like me!" Without looking back, Sarah stormed out of the small diner we had stopped in.

  I didn't get up to follow my partner, I couldn't. My hands and legs were shaking too badly. With all the other crap I was dealing with, my partner had just scared me. I was supposed to protect Sarah, make her feel safe.

  Did I make her feel like something expendable? That she was nothing more than a replaceable part of our partnership. The explosion I’d just witnessed had been boiling beneath the surface for some time.

  What had I done or said to make Sarah so angry?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Calm, look calm. Katrina kept repeating the simple phrase to herself in her mind over and over. Fit in, look normal, don’t draw attention to yourself. Just keep moving.

  “Easier said than done,” Katrina whispered aloud. She stopped at the street corner with the other pedestrians, making sure to occupy a space in the middle of the small herd of humanity. It never bothered Katrina when young men looked her over, always in a favorable manner. She was attractive and comfortable with the fact. Her looks didn't go to her head, a point which surprised some people.

  Katrina knew better. A product of genetic engineering and good source DNA, it was a foregone conclusion she’d be an attractive woman.

  Her looks were not an accident of good fortune. They had been deliberately created in a lab, paid for with ease from her mother’s more than generous allowance. Staying in the middle of the throng of people walking along the sidewalk, Katrina let her mind wander. Her father's partner was beautiful. How did Sarah view her looks? Did she think they were a blessing or a curse? Something to be proud of or did Sarah share Katrina's views about her looks? That they were nothing more than evidence of sound engineering.

  A warm flush swept through her cheeks, embarrassing Katrina. The realization she was jealous of her father’s partner shocked her.

  It had been a shock to learn of the existence of her mother’s relationship with the man named Thomas Sullivan, a police Inspector, known to his friends as Sully. Katrina had been fumbling around in a box, looking for some object she’d misplaced and found an older model holographic projector. Curious to see if it contained images of her mother, Katrina had activated the projector.

  Her mother had found Katrina half an hour later crying in the spare room in the Chancellor’s mansion. The scene that played out in the minutes that followed would be forever etched in Katrina’s memory. Sitting on an overstuffed chair with the projector resting on a small, ornate end table when Saundra had walked in, Katrina had wasted no time confronting her mother.

  “Mother, who is this man?”

  Saundra had stopped, shocked at the 3-D image of Sully standing on the end table. His greatcoat streaming behind him swept back by the wind. It was apparent the figure displayed was a tall man, powerfully built. A man who moved with purpose and was not to be trifled with. The handsome face was marred by an ugly scar that ran vertically from scalp to jawline, bisecting the right eye. Something about the eye drew attention to it.

  Further examination showed the man's blue eyes did not match. Each possessed its own shade of blue, the right eye being a brighter and more noticeable shade of blue. Black knee-high jackboots adorned the menacing figure's feet. Tucked into the boots were old, worn military style pants. The man's shirt hung on his frame, it's color nondescript and easy to forget.

  Her mother’s face was devoid of any expression, the brief moment of surprise that had flashed across the Chancellor’s face was gone, tucked away where it belonged. “I see you’ve been going through some old things that needed to be disposed of.”

  “Answer my question. Who is this man?”

  “Nobody,” Saundra replied taking two steps towards the holographic projector.

  Katrina stood quickly and picked up the projector, clutching it to her chest. “You’re not getting out of this one so easy.”

  "Don't be disrespectful," Saundra admonished. "He's someone I knew long ago. Nobody important at all. Now, let's put that old projector away."

  “He’s important, isn’t he, mother?”

  “Katrina,” the older woman replied with a curt sternness, “remember your manners. I said the man is nobody. Now, please give me the projector.”

  "I look like him," Katrina blurted out. She didn't know what had made her declare the fact, she'd merely felt the need to do so. The horrified expression on her mother's face confirmed the guess.

  "Child, I don't know where you get such wild ideas," the older woman exclaimed, restoring the stern, emotionless expression to her countenance. She smiled in a practiced, teasing manner, the one Katrina had watched her mother use time and again when engaged in pressing the flesh with the hated unwashed masses. Saundra lowered her voice and spoke in a conspiratorial manner. “Your clone brain is acting up again.”

  “Knock it off, mother!” Katrina moved away from her mother, circling towards the open door. “He’s a cop, an Inspector in the Intergalactic Alliance Police Force! Why do you have images of him on the projector? Who is the clone with him?”

  Her mother’s surprised expression made its third appearance and vanished once again. “That little tart is a clone?”

  Exasperated, Katrina shouted at her mother. “You know we can spot each other! Now tell me who this man is?” Katrina inched towards the door. “If you don’t, I’ll go see Ambassador Marshall, he knows all of your secrets.”

  Something inside Saundra changed. The stern maternal figure let herself drop into the chair earlier occupied by Katrina. “Fine,” the woman protested. “I used to date this man.”

  “His name is Thomas Sullivan,” Katrina stated with the same blunt tone her mother often used.

  “Indeed, Katrina, that is the man’s name, and yes, he is an Inspector. But my relationship with this Sullivan ended long ago.”

  Katrina jutted her jaw out defiantly. “He’s the other half of my source DNA isn’t he?”

  Her own jaw moved forward with equal defiance as Saundra considered how to deal with her difficult daughter. There was no way around it the politician finally decided, the situation demanded the truth be allowed to see the light of day.

  "Yes. Sullivan is the closest thing to a father a clone like yourself can have."

  Calm spread through her middle, moving toward her extremities, giving Katrina a sense of comforting peace.

  “You could have told me. I would never have told anyone.”

  Saundra’s reply was stiff and cold. “I couldn’t know that.”

  “Well, I’ve never let anyone in on the fact you’re my mother or that I’m a clone,” Katrina tersely pointed out. “I think I’ve earned your trust about information that involves me.” The younger woman tilted her hips to the right while making an exaggerated childish face. “You know, little unimportant facts like who my father is.”

  The remainder of the conversation was tense and drawn out, but Katrina finally extracted from her mother as much of the truth on the topic as could be expected. Sully was the one that got away, the one her mother had never been able to tame, to take complete control of, to emasculate, and then dispose of with ease. Her father’s departure for the military had saved him from the cruel, controlling fate her mother had planned for him. The fate that awaited every man who ever showed romantic interest in the ice cold, calculating politician.

  Her mother had broken up with Sully because she couldn’t control him. Thomas Sull
ivan was her mother’s obsession, the one man she’d never tamed. As such, her mother’s compulsion had driven her to keep track of the man and store the evidence in the projector, hidden in plain sight in a box of items to be disposed of.

  Katrina’s mind turned to the beautiful clone while slowing her pace on the sidewalk. It was hot, and she'd been sweating. Her faith had taught Katrina envy and its evil twin, jealousy, were sins. The twinge of both devilish emotions regarding the clone who was her father's partner troubled Katrina. She'd never met her father, Thomas Sullivan. He had his own life to live, and Saundra had made it clear Sully knew nothing about her existence, and it was to stay that way.

  Knowing these facts did not stop the yearning to know Sully, to know if the beautiful clone was a threat to any possible relationship Katrina could possibly have with her father. The presence of a clone both gave Katrina hope Sully would understand her and potentially risk having a relationship with her. But would the other clone tolerate the risk of another illegal human interacting with Sully?

  Fatigue slowed Katrina’s pace, causing her to slip behind the group of strangers she’d been hiding among as she left the neighborhoods she was unfamiliar with. Thirsty from the heat and the long walk, Katrina stopped to look about for a small diner or convenience store where she could buy some drinking water.

  Ordinarily more observant than the average person, Katrina failed to notice the two rough looking men watching her from a hovercar.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sweat ran down his back, causing his shirt to cling to him. Father Nathan paused at the street corner and wiped his forehead with a newly acquired handkerchief. The priest stuck his right forefinger down his cleric’s collar and ran it along the inside in a vain attempt to stretch the collar out and allow him to be more comfortable. Glare from the setting sun made him squint as he looked about the area to get his bearings again.

  Vick had kept his word and introduced Father Nathan to the leader of The New Light Church, the local non-denominational church that served the poor, homeless, and believers of the dying neighborhoods in the surrounding area. The meeting had been interesting as the two clergymen compared experiences and shared ideas. Vick had joined towards the end of his visit and impressed Father Nathan with his sincere devotion to serving others who were in need.

  Exchanges of this kind with other believers reinvigorated Father Nathan, reaffirming his calling to serve as a priest. When the topic had turned to his reason for visiting Athens II, the summoning of Sully and Sarah to investigate the kidnapping and disappearance of Katrina, things had gotten strange. Both Pastor David and Vick had spoken highly of Katrina, praising the strength of her faith and commitment to helping those in need. Her unexplained disappearance troubled Vick openly, he'd lost more than just a co-worker, he'd lost one of his few real friends. Pastor David seemed a bit aloof about the topic, distant even.

  Spotting the diner that had been adopted as the temporary replacement for Joe's, Father Nathan crossed the street and increased his pace. Drained mentally and physically from the oppressive heat, the priest wanted nothing more than to sit in the cold air of the diner and drink a large, chilled glass of water.

  FIVE LINKS FROM HER secure comm in the Chancellor’s Office had produced five different conversations. All of the voices on the other end of the link expressed concern and sorrow over Saundra’s missing daughter. None of the voices had been sympathetic to making a show of Saundra seeming to meet the demands of the kidnappers as a ploy.

  Always a political animal, Saundra found herself regretting the decision she'd made to announce to the people of Athens II that she had a daughter. The bump in the polls it had gotten her was not worth the vulnerability the announcement had created. The Iron Chancellor had a weak spot, and her enemies had taken advantage of it.

  She’d compounded the mistake by hiring Sully to investigate. The money wasn’t the issue nor was letting Sully learn he had a clone daughter. Hiring Sully and that horrible assistant of his had meant she was committed to finding and recovering Katrina. Saundra stood up from her desk and walked over to the view screen that served as a window, projecting a view of the city as if the faux window were real.

  Marshall would have understood if Saundra had rejected the kidnapper's demands. Power was hard to come by and once relinquished, almost impossible to regain. Her climb to the Chancellor's Office had not been easy. Saundra, like many an influential leader, stood on the skeletons of those she'd stripped of power or clawed her way past while climbing the ladder to the top. With power came enemies and Saundra had her share of those who needed to be watched.

  For a moment Saundra had entertained the idea of meeting the kidnapper's demands. That consideration ended with the breaking of the link on the last communication. Her backers would not even tolerate the appearance of considering the demands, buying Sully time to track them down.

  Saundra summoned her detail. It was a short distance to the private quarters of the Chancellor, but the protocol required that distance be covered with an armed escort. Since the kidnapping Saundra found herself feeling more suffocated than usual by the presence of her security detail. The loud click of the magnetic lock sealing her quarters, a sound she usually found reassuring, only made her bristle in irritation.

  Without looking back at the door, Saundra made her way through the elegantly appointed foyer, the ample, open space that served as a common area where guests could be greeted and entertained and turned into the hall leading towards her private living quarters. Shutting the door behind her and locking it, Saundra entered her dressing area, pushed aside the collection of dress suits and power clothes. Leaning over, Saundra drew her face close to the safe mounted in the wall, allowing the retinal scanner to do its job. Having confirmed her identity, the screen blinked, displaying the outline of a human hand, requiring Saundra to verify her identity by palm and fingerprints. She felt the prick of the needle drawing a tiny drop of blood for the DNA scan.

  Satisfied Saundra was indeed Saundra, the safe displayed a keypad on the touch screen. Irritated by the lengthy process, Saundra hurried as she typed in the combination, entering the wrong numbers requiring her to repeat the entire process.

  The final step finally completed, the safe hissed as the pressure seal was broken and the door to the safe slid away into the wall, displaying another, smaller door inside. This time Saundra entered the second combination correctly the first time and opened the inner door. Reaching inside, she moved the contents about until locating what she’d come for.

  Straightening up, Saundra stepped back and looked at the tiny container she’d removed from its hiding place. Clutching the container to her chest, Saundra closed her eyes and considered her choices a final time.

  Tears running down her cheeks as she made her way to the tiny office in the living quarters, Saundra sat down and collected herself. Wiping away the tears, she glanced at the container that held the genetic code used to create Katrina.

  “I’m sorry my baby girl. I can’t risk it. If Sully can’t find you, I’ll have to let you go. I just hope your replacement will have your sweet personality.”

  I STOOD LOOKING AT the two battered bodies, both were fresh kills. Each victim had suffered before they were executed. The crime scene techs went about their jobs, taking samples, photographs, and all the other routine and mundane tasks required. Sarah moved from the corner, startling the techs with her sudden appearance. She stooped and leaned over, bending at her waist to bring her face within centimeters of the fingers of the victim bound to the chair.

  “He has broken fingers.”

  “Are the breaks uniform or a bit haphazard?”

  Sarah stood up and moved to the other victim and repeated the process of displaying her unusual degree of flexibility by bending at the waist until her face was centimeters from the victim’s battered hands.

  “Same here,” Sarah observed aloud. “Uniform in break point. This was done by a professional using some type of device that allo
ws for a standard, uniform break in each finger.”

  “What’s your take?” I had an idea what my partner was going to say, I just wanted to hear her voice it aloud.

  “These are the original kidnappers.”

  I nodded, motioning with my hand for Sarah to continue.

  “Katrina escaped. At least two, possibly more, were sent to find out if Katrina actually escaped or if these two got the idea to freelance.”

  “What confirms your theory?”

  "Torture. These two guys are not too bright, low-level hirelings tasked with the job of keeping Katrina under wraps until the ransom was paid or it was time to kill her. The fact both of them had multiple fingers broken prior to execution indicates they either gave up Katrina's location or they truly didn't know where she is, meaning she has escaped. I think they told the truth, that they didn't know where she is. Their torturers assessed these two were telling the truth and executed them."

  I felt a twinge of pride in Sarah’s observations and reasoning.

  “What makes you think the killers decided our victims were telling the truth?”

  “If they felt one or both of the vics were holding out, the torture would have escalated to include more than beatings and broken fingers. The killers would have moved on to breaking toes and then probably started pulling fingernails, that sort of thing. They didn't, the executions were done with a small caliber projectile. Pros use that sort of weapon. It doesn't make noise, leave much of a mess, and is easy to conceal."

  "Right you are," I informed my partner. I got a kick out of watching her stoic expression vanish as she lit up at my words of praise, flashing her charming smile for a brief moment.

  "Hey, you," I growled at the lead tech. "Make sure you send the report to me at this link," I ordered. "Nobody else is that clear."