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CHAPTER VII Pre Launch - 1

  

  Scene 07-1 — Power Conflict

  Space: Secret Services Palace of the New World Order. Ministry of Secret Services and Population Control. London District, Westminster.

  Time: 01.08.23 — 09:12 UTC.

  Setting: Inside the main office of Arkan Solem, seat of the supreme authority of the Ministry of Secret Services.

  “Urgent message for you, Minister. The Prime Minister is requesting an immediate audience.”

  The official, visibly tense, handed him a sealed envelope.

  In the most restricted office of the entire government, every form of communication was still committed to paper. The room was entirely sealed off from any electronic system.

  The Minister of Secret Services took the envelope, opened it, and read through the message. A thin line of displeasure crossed his face.

  “Classified communication. Hard copy. Destroy after reading.”

  “General John O’Neill has died in the line of duty. The alien neural-link systems proved fatal to his mind. Brain death was declared at 08:16 on day 00.08.18.”

  The Minister calmly crushed the sheet and dropped it into the incinerator. The Prime Minister’s unexpected visit now made perfect sense.

  “Send her in. Now.”

  “Right away. She’s already growing impatient.”

  The Prime Minister stepped into the Secret Services command room — an institution that had begun to slip, at least in part, beyond her direct control. And she knew it.

  “This blows every one of our plans to pieces,” the Minister said, even before she reached the desk.

  “I know.”

  “Not good. We can’t leave the starship in the hands of some street-born girl and a biological entity.”

  “I know.”

  “You know, you know… Know what? I know it too. So what do you suggest?”

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  “I suggest two.”

  “Two?”

  “Yes. A second biological entity.”

  “We agreed it had to stay entirely off the books, and for the time being without human contact — except for the few members of my ministry who supervised its upbringing.”

  “Another human subject would meet the same fate as General O’Neill. We can’t infiltrate someone who could interface with their systems. And HSP328 has already shown signs of insubordination and a tendency to make independent decisions. He’d turn on us the moment it suited him.”

  “I know. But right now he might be the only one capable of keeping the girl in check. A native rebel — the worst possible variable.”

  “HSP984 is compliant, raised in absolute submission, conditioned to obey to the letter. The flaws in earlier versions have been resolved. HSP984 has flawless mental conditioning and stands only slightly above average height. She’ll blend in with the rest of the crew.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  “All tests are positive. She believes everything we tell her and follows every order without hesitation.”

  “Has she been prepared?”

  “Since early childhood. She was raised knowing she’d be assigned a mission once her training was complete. She’s trained in close combat, proficient with any type of weapon, and — like all her line — performs at world-record levels in practically any sport.”

  “Twenty-two is still young.”

  “Not for her. The genetic line she comes from has exceptional psychophysical traits. She might outperform HSP328 in every field, except one. Possibly.”

  “Oh? Which one?”

  “Hand-to-hand combat. After all — she’s female. We’ve given her a name: Genevieve. Genevieve HSP984.”

  “It’s not her capabilities that concern me.”

  “Then what?”

  “She might start thinking like a human being during the mission. That’s what unplanned experiences do — they shape individuals who learn to think for themselves.”

  “I doubt it. The Ministry of Science has cleared her for duty: in their evaluation she’s fully conditioned. She hasn’t lived anything like her predecessor’s adventurous life, and she’s implanted — her neural device regulates her thoughts.”

  “Perhaps… But her real adventure starts now, at twenty-two. Youth can behave unpredictably under pressure. And this certainly qualifies.”

  “We have no choice. This time I’ve assigned her to a role that won’t draw attention from the alien systems.”

  “What role?”

  “ECLSS operator aboard the starship. Environmental Control and Life Support System: all environmental and life-support operations. It covers air and water recycling, temperature and humidity regulation, handling of organic and physiological waste, and the filtration and containment of pathogenic agents. Essentially: the ship’s sewers. She’ll interact with only a handful of technicians. We’ll keep her isolated but guarantee access to all communication and control channels. In short, the position gives her excellent access — in every possible sense.”

  “Fine. She’ll join the crew as an ECLSS operator. She’s not tall enough to draw suspicion: she doesn’t even look like a stereogenomically edited product — we corrected that as well. She’ll walk in with the others. I’ll take care of it personally.”

  “As you wish.”

  The Prime Minister left. Silence washed back over the room.

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