Chapter 50

It was eerie walking into the residency of the senior Zealot with every male looking exactly the same. Finally though I was ushered into what I can only describe as a study complete with what I believed were genuine books on bookshelves, something I’d not seen since awakening as a Cure other than in Amantil’s very private dining area. For all the Empire did use something they called pseudo paper for official documents and contracts, they didn’t use books as such and the pseudo paper dissolved when the contract was up.

“Greetings, Cure David. I’m Abno, the senior Zealot,” a young man sitting behind a desk said as he rose to greet me.

“Salutations, senior Zealot Abno,” I replied with a half bow hand to the chest gesture that I used with a High Bureaucrat.

“In the residence, it’s just Abno, please,” he replied with a smile.

“Then please, just call me David,” I replied with a smile of my own.

“Arpro, Belno, please remain here whilst I take David to see my cousin,” Abno ordered his retainers.

“Sarath,” they both responded with a deep nod.

“Doesn’t it get confusing when they all look alike?” I asked as I followed Abno out through another door.

“Oh yes. If the AI went down I’d be stumped,” he grinned.

“So ... why? If that’s not too intrusive,” I asked.

“Tradition mostly, that and they are programmed for loyalty during the growth phase, unlike the Empire and ImpSec where they’re conditioned from when they join.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Yes, it looks odd to an outsider, our whole society does, but it works and we have a good standard of living. There is no poverty or hunger and everyone knows their place and has a safe space to escape from the rigours of life,” he added.

“Ah, the segregation thing?”

“Yes, that little oddity in our society.”

“It does seem odd to me, but who am I to judge, doing what I do,” I chuckled.

“Yes, a most amazing gift,” he nodded. “Emperor Dittra, the current Empress’ father even asked us if we could clone a Cure. We tried, but whatever makes you, you, happens after your birth and can’t be programmed in via gene resequencing.”

He finally led me up some genuine stairs and to a room where a young lady sat in a chair looking somewhat pale and showing the red pupils of an advanced case of the taspasian virus.

“David, this is Lirra, my cousin. Lirra, this is Cure David,” he introduced us.

“Salutations, Lirra,” I greeted her.

“Greeting, Cure David,” she returned.

“Please, just David,” I smiled.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Abno added as he withdrew with a cheery smile.

“Please, sit, David,” Lirra indicated a chair.

“Thank you,” I nodded. “They did explain what it is I have to do?”

“Yes, very bluntly,” she replied with a wan smile.

“It pays not to have a patient under any illusions,” I chuckled, making her smile grow a little wider.

“Yes, though my Uncle was already aware of what it is a Cure does ... or needs to do.”

“I was surprised to see you without the...” I began, gesturing with my hands.

“The mantle is only worn outdoors and is to prevent a female being interfered with by predatory males,” she replied.

“You have many of those?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not anymore, but tradition is a total bitch in social mores on Sirene,” she giggled.

“I see. So, shall we begin?”

“Oh yes, please. I’m told coupling with a Cure is an exquisite experience,” she replied with a demure smile.

Lirra swiftly doffed her thin silken robe as I leaned in to kiss her full soft lips, eliciting a sigh of contentment as my magic began to work. Soon other kisses and caresses began to bring her arousal to a peak finally producing an orgasm as my tongue snaked into the valley of her nether lips.

“Oh Zelno, that was amazing!” she gasped.

“Best is yet to come,” I smiled as I removed my coverall and underwear and moved to mount her.

“Yes!” she hissed as I slid into her.

For all she was frail from the virus, Lirra threw herself into the lovemaking with everything she had as orgasm after orgasm spilled over for her. I took my time to ensure that her ‘cure’ gave her immense pleasure. Still, eventually I could hold back no longer and with a groan, I released into her, only to feel something cold touch the back of my neck and I blacked out.

I awoke, feeling like crap, and wondering just what the hell had happened. The room I was in was entirely undecorated and without windows, just white walls, floor and ceiling with a bed, a toilet and a chair.

“A prison cell,” I murmured out loud.

“Ah, good. You’re finally awake,” came a strange voice from some sort of hidden speaker.

“I am. However, I don’t believe you know the amount of trouble you’re going to get into with the Empire,” I replied steadily as I checked to make sure all my body was ‘functioning’.

“Oh, but you aren’t here. A clone we grew had an unfortunate accident. A shuttle malfunctioned docking to a starship and the body burned up on re-entry.”

I kept silent. I had a suspicion that ImpSec, or rather Amantil, might not be fooled at all, but did not want whoever it was to know that.

“So why am I here?”

“We wish to create our own Cures, or at least have one for ourselves.”

“I fail to see how you can make me co-operate,” I shrugged.

“Oh, there are ways,” he chuckled as I was hit by a neural pulse causing me to fall back in agony.

As I was prone and recovering two of the clones then entered the room to try and place some sort of cuffs on me. They did, however, make the mistake of leaving the wall where the door appeared open and I reacted swiftly, having sort of got used to the neural pulses during my training when I was inducted into the Empire.

Two swift nerve blows to the clones sensitive areas and I was off and running, despite not knowing where I was or how to escape. I’d also grabbed what had to be some sort of utility pouch off one of the clones as I followed a set of lines on the floor. Inside the pouch, I lucked out as there was some sort of pistol, though I wasn’t sure if it was a hyperbeam or a stunner ... or something else entirely. I kept expecting to go down with a neural pulse, but figured that it possibly was just set up for the room where I’d been held.

Finally a wall opened up in front of me and I found myself in a courtyard with an obvious exit but also a guard post. Still, hesitating wasn’t going to do me any good and so I raced towards it as a startled clone stepped out holding a weapon.

“Stop!” he yelled only to go down to what I knew had to be a stun beam as I fired the weapon I held in my hand first, even as he was evaluating the situation.

I then hurtled out into a city area and raced for cover even as alarms began to sound behind me. Sirene was clearly not designed to be walked around as everything was well spaced out, though it was possible. Nor had I any idea where I was, or where the spaceport was, or indeed the Vreekoosian Embassy. What I was aware of were a few signs designating no go areas for males and so naturally I headed towards one hoping to catch a female and ask for help as I didn’t dare ask any AI interface.

I finally found a female, walking alone into the area, and called out, “Could you assist me please?” causing her to pause and turn towards me.

I sensed she was startled, though I could not see any feature other than her eyes, still, eventually she approached, though kept at a slight distance.

“You wish aid?” a very pleasant voice asked in Imperial basic.

“Directions please?”

“To where?”

“The Gershonian Embassy. My identity bracelet no longer functions,” I explained as I avoided mention of Vreekoos.

“Oh, I can summon a carrier for you as it’s quite far?”

“My bracelet sets off a punishment pulse, so no I can’t take one, sorry.”

“Oh, I see. Yes, I have heard of such things. The Embassy can be reached by following the Simran path to your right which you can reach by following the yellow stippling,” she replied, pointing out the stippling.

“Thank you, good Lady,” I replied with a semi-formal bow that I’d observed Gershonians use.

“Be blessed by Zelno,” she replied and headed off into the segregated zone.

Rather than draw attention to myself, I turned my coverall inside out as there was no one around. It was dual use with a slightly different colour scheme. I then walked steadily following the stippling on the wall as it headed off into the distance.

“What do you mean, escaped?” Abno asked the senior clone.

“He overcame two of our units and ran from the holding chamber,” came the reply.

“Was it not sealed?”

“We were informed that he was not dangerous and there was no need for anything other than restraints.”

“I suggest you find him then,” Abno shrugged.

“We are doing a full city scan, but he has not used any devices attached to an AI.”

“I’d have the Vreekoosian Embassy watched, also the spaceport. Then get your brothers out searching the city paths as that’s the only route he could take to avoid detection. I warned the conclave this was a bad idea, plus keeping him comatose for five planetary cycles could have harmed him anyway whilst they built his clone! But still, they had to try and had him kidnapped from my cousin’s bedroom!”

“Yes, Sarath,” the senior clone replied, then left.

“Arpro, Belno, ensure that should we detect him, Cure David is not interfered with as he seeks safety,” Abno stated after a moment’s thought.

“Yes, Sarath,” the two clones replied.

Whilst I did pass several people, including covered up ladies, the path was mostly free of traffic and it took about an hour of steady walking to reach what had to be a major thoroughfare which I presumed was the Simran way. I then took a right and kept in with a crowd that was heading my way. It was soon obvious to me that cloning appeared to be a major part of the lower orders in the Republic of Zelnot, at least in Sirene as far as I could tell. Yes, there were plenty of individuals, but, there were a majority of clones of various types, all pretty much dressed the same as their identical clone types.