The Early Years

Arcadia was en route to Knossos 13 to pick up the ambassador for the Reform Planets. The summit on Ostral-B was beginning in just two days. It was imperative that the delegates arrive on time. With the threat of the Divine Order looming nearer and nearer, and His Divine Shadow's sinister agents becoming more and more prevalent, this summit was critical in establishing more formalized means of cooperation and unity among those systems that resisted His Shadow's totalitarianism. Arcadia had been selected to escort Lord Carlin Dalraida, representing nearly a dozen Reform Planets, to the summit.

She arrived at Knossos 13 and met the ambassador at the rendezvous point. He was not what she had expected. Most of the other diplomats that the young heretic had met in her time (and she had met only a few), were older, sensible, and for all purposes rather dull individuals. But Lord Carlin was different. For one thing, he wasn't all that much older than Arcadia herself, no more than 25. He was a handsome, charming man, with a radiant sort of charisma that Arcadia sensed immediately.

"Arcadia Shazemne at your service, my Lord," she said to the ambassador, offering her hand.

The tall, dapper diplomat gently took Arcadia's hand, and slowly leaning forward, never taking his eyes off hers, kissed it delicately.

"Carlin Dalraida at yours, my lady." His voice was deep, but smooth, flowing like the sound of peaceful waterfall.

They got on board, and Arcadia took the shuttle away from port, heading towards Ostral-B.

Lord Carlin sat behind his pilot quietly, almost as if he was in a state of meditation. With his eyes closed, and with his complexion being the pale, moonlight color that it was, it was unclear as to whether or not the ambassador was even alive.

Arcadia was very intrigued. She wanted very much to be able to talk to him, to find out more about this mysterious passenger. But was such proper etiquette?

The ambassador made her dilemma easier. "So, my lady," he said, seeming to snap out of his transcendental state, "what would you ask of me, that I might sate your curiosity?"

Arcadia was thrown off a bit. Was it coincidence that he happened to address the very issue that she had just been thinking about? Was this man THAT in tune with human nature, or was he just lucky?

"Well," Arcadia said, setting the auto-pilot and turning around to face the ambassador, "I suppose what any girl would want to know in a situation like this." She smiled, teasing him to see just how perceptive the man REALLY was.

Carlin got up, and took a couple of steps over to where Arcadia was sitting at the helm. The young pilot held her breath as the dashing diplomat moved closer, placing his head next to hers. She could feel his warm breath upon her cheek as he whispered.

"Somehow I doubt that you are just ANY girl." Smoothly, he took Arcadia's hand again, and brought it up to his lips. He kissed her again, this time noticeably more sensuous, and he slowly moved up along her wrist, maintaining a hypnotizing eye-contact the whole time. Arcadia broke their gaze only once, distracted by a familiar
tattoo that was now visible on the inside of Carlin's right wrist. She came to her senses quickly, pulling her now tingling hand away from his grasp. She stood up sharply, and backed up.

"What is it, my dear?" the ambassador said, with a patronizing kind of charm, indicating that he could guess both halves of Arcadia's mind.

"You're Black Ops!" she exclaimed. "Psionics no less." Terrified, Arcadia looked around the pilot's seat. Her sidearm was in the back, as if that would do any good at the moment. She was defenseless, mentally and physically.

"Why, Arcadia," Carlin stated, moving closer, speaking with a feigned sense of reassurance and comfort. "Whatever gives you that idea?"

Arcadia tried taking another step back, but was up against a wall. The Psi-Agent had her cornered.

"We'll be at Ostral-B in a few minutes," Arcadia explained, trying to keep a sense of control about her. "There's no way off this ship." She had a feeling there was no way to deal with this man, but she figured a desperate bargain might work. "I'll make you a deal. Drop me off at L-Sat, and take my ship. I'll make up a believable story. By the time I could report you, you'll be halfway to the Frontier. We can make this work out, you know."

"I'm afraid it's too late for deals, my young heretic," Carlin said thinly, his charm evaporating. "Such a tragedy that a beautiful woman like yourself has to go through life a vegetable!"

Carlin made a move towards her. Arcadia swiftly ducked and got around him. The agent spun around and grabbed her as she was diving for her pack a few feet aft. Arcadia was pulled back forcefully, and quickly pinned by the larger and more muscular agent. Writhing and squirming, she tried to get free from his grasp, but it was no use. He had his hands on her shoulders, and the last thing Arcadia remembered was his terrifyingly handsome face as she faded into blackness.

***

Like a daydream almost, Arcadia found herself back home on Ostral-B, in the Girls' Home where she was raised. She and the other girls were preparing for bed in the bunkhouse that twenty or so of them shared. It was dark, just as she remembered. It was nearly time. Arcadia could feel the fear again, remembering the anxiety and turmoil. She could hear the footsteps along the corridor outside, and the sound of the feet stopping at her door. It opened. She could see his silhouette in the doorway, just as she remembered it. His footsteps drew nearer. She felt herself tremble at the thought of yet another night of this horrible ritual. He was now standing at the foot of her bed. He knelt down, next to where she lay, so still and quiet, hoping that if she pretended to be asleep, it wouldn't be so bad this time.
She could now hear his breathing. He leaned in toward her, his face becoming visible from the shadows of the room by the light from the doorway. It was Carlin! Arcadia felt herself utter a scream of terror, but she could hear no sound.

The image shifted, still as if in a dream. Arcadia was in flight school. It was the same hour of that same horrible day she remembered so well. She was flying double. Her partner and her had been practicing the maneuver for weeks. They were ready. Her gunner, a fresh, 19-year old boy, were going up against the Shadow X
simulation, the toughest to beat, and the most dangerous. They were in formation, just as Arcadia remembered it. Her adrenaline was rushing, her heart was pounding with excitement. Then, the malfunction. Her gunner, mutilated and torched. Only seconds left. The painful decision. He would die, because Arcadia would have to eject in her escape pod. She turned to face the young man one last time before pressing the button. He had Carlin's face! Suddenly, his eyes opened. He looked at Arcadia, sneering and laughing. She closed her eyes, not able to bear his gaze.

Again, a new image. The perverted playhouse on Williams' Utopia that Arcadia had endured only weeks before. She was in the booth with Sonya. It was all happening again, just as it had happened before. Arcadia was on top of her, faking her sensual performance. She had her pants down, and was working on that belt, when she glanced up at Sonya's face. But it wasn't Sonya's. Once again, Carlin! His head on Sonya's body! Stunned and mortified, Arcadia stopped her work on the belt. Carlin laughed, suddenly pulling Arcadia close and ravaging her with violent passion. Arcadia twisted and turned in his grasp, trying to get loose. His mouth was all over her it seemed, his hands groping and fondling. Then, it seemed as if she was falling... falling... falling...

***

Arcadia snapped out of it as she was released from Carlin's grip. Celeste removed the syringe from the agent's back as he slumped to the deck of the shuttle. The doctor helped Arcadia to her feet.

"Here, you'll need this," she said, administering a neural stabilizer. Arcadia's head began clearing, but she was still weak and disoriented.

"How... how did you...?" Arcadia tried to ask, but the words were not coming easily.

"Just lucky, really," Celeste replied. "Your ship was approaching orbit on auto-pilot. Even a doctor knows that isn't right! I figured something must be wrong, so I took an ambulance shuttle to intercept. Good thing I arrived in time!"

Arcadia nodded, still dazed from the mind attack. Carlin lay unconscious on the floor due to the doctor's powerful sedative.

"Well, my lord," the heretic said, rhetorically, looking down at her passenger, "you sure know how to drive a girl crazy!"

***

Master Flight Sgt. Arcadia Shazemne had never flown with a Courier before. Well, not exactly a Courier. Stanley H. Tweedle was an Assistant Deputy Back-Up Courier (the lowest you could go), assigned to Arcadia in securing her arrival on Feliciana 4.

Tweedle was not what Arcadia would have called ideal company on the long voyage. He seemed to have had some recent dental work, and was constantly picking at his teeth in an uncomely manner while he sat at the helm. The few times that the thirty-something-ish looking Ostral-B pilot glanced over at Arcadia, he made little effort concealing the fact that his eyes were focused on her shapely breasts! Fortunately, her friend Jezzy was along for the trip, making the transit a little less awkward.

"Any recent news from your contact on Feliciana?" Jezzy asked as they were approaching the system.

"No," Arcadia replied, "and that's been bothering me ever since lift-off. He said that he would provide coordinates for a rendezvous point."

She was referring to a man named Parrish Landry, one of the planet's Overseers. Feliciana was a member of a small confederation of distant, fringe worlds called the Separatists. The Divine Order had little presence among their member systems. Each world was independent from one another, yet united in their desire to keep to themselves as much as possible.

This was changing with some of them, however, as His Divine Shadow was stretching the power of His Order further and further into the outer realms. Privacy was spawning vulnerability, and some member worlds were turning to the Reform Planets and heretics for assistance. Landry had contacted Ostral-B several weeks ago,
requesting a visit from a representative . Arcadia was the first olive branch.

"Uh, we're coming into range now, Flight Serjeant, uh ma'am," Stanley said from the helm. "I'm going to need coordinates for a landing."

Arcadia came up alongside the courier. "I haven't received any," she explained. "You'll have to pick a spot at random." She turned to Jezzy. "We'll try to make contact with Landry when we land."

"What do you mean, 'pick a spot,?" Stanley asked. "How can I do that? I've got to have coordinates."

Arcadia sat down at the console next to him, irritated. "Look," she said, "Assistant Deputy Back-Up Courier, is it? This is not quantum physics. Just lock on to a signal from the planet's surface, anywhere populated will do, and LAND!" She shook her head at the man's incompetence.

Stanley managed a weak grin, and made the necessary adjustments. The ship landed.

***

They were on the outskirts of what appeared to be a rather large city. There was no reception whatsoever. Arcadia wondered if they were even expected. She and Jezzy prepared to leave the ship.

"Aren't you coming?" Arcadia asked the pilot.

Stanley hesitated, remaining seated. "Uh, well, I thought it might be better if I stayed on board," he said nervously. "You know, just in case."

Arcadia sighed. "Not a chance, Tweedle," she said. "Come on, we need you to accompany us into the city. Don't worry, the ship will be fine!"

Uneasy, but likewise unwilling to argue with a superior officer, Stanley followed Arcadia and Jezzy into the Felicianan metropolis.

They walked into what seemed to be a marketplace. It was very crowded. There were people, buying, selling, chatting, and so forth. It was a very lively place. Everyone seemed quite cheerful and pleasant.

Jezzy accidently bumped into a merchant, causing him to drop a bundle of goods. They spilled everywhere.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry!" Jezzy exclaimed, stooping down to help pick up.

The merchant gave Jezzy a peculiar look, but the universal smile never left his face. "I don't understand," he said. "Sorry?" He dropped to his knees as well to pick up his things. "It was obviously an accident. They happen every day. Cheers, neighbor!" The merchant finished collecting his scattered wares, gave a final smile and
farewell gesture to Jezzy, and walked off.

"If only everyone in the universe had his disposition!" Arcadia said, musing to herself.

The trio walked on. Arcadia was noting that indeed everyone here DID seem to have a similar disposition. Everyone she saw was smiling, and speaking kindly to one another. There were no apparent arguments, no bickering, not even the typical competitive jabber that one hears at market. It was quite strange, and a little unnerving.

Arcadia and Jezzy both made an effort to smile in return at the people they exchanged glances with. Stanley, on the other hand, was noticeably anxious, and showed it on his face. His appearance was provoking a sense of confusion and wonder among the natives who happened to observe him.

They finally arrived at a large administrative building near the city center. Arcadia had to speak to a clerk before gaining admittance for herself and her party.

"Good day, neighbor," the clerk said cheerfully. "How may I be of assistance to you today?"

"We're here to see Overseer Parrish Landry," Arcadia replied, being mindful of her tone.

"Of course," the clerk said, still smiling. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Well, no, not exactly," Arcadia stated. "You see, we failed to make contact prior to my arrival. But I'm sure that he must be expecting us!"

Arcadia's subtle change in tone to a slight echo of apprehension had a startling effect upon the clerk. She sat up straighter, and was obviously uncomfortable.

"That's quite all right," she replied, still managing a courteous smile. "We have plenty of comfortable seats for waiting while I arrange a meeting for you with Mr. Landry." She pointed to a set of chairs in a nearby lobby.

"Look, miss," Stanley said, his voice aggitated. "We don't have all day! We really need to see your boss now!"

Arcadia nudged him in the ribs, as Stanley reacted with a verbal "Ow!" It was then that she noticed the video cameras covering several angles in the room. They all began shifting in their direction. The clerk noticed as well, and it had a startling effect on her.

"I'm sure that I can arrange something very soon," she said, nearly forcing calm into her voice. She was about to input some data into her terminal, when a sliding door on an adjacent wall opened. Five men in stark uniforms walked out and approached Arcadia and her group.

"Ma'am," one the men said, pleasant but soberly, "the behavior of you and your comrades is in violation of the Planetary Harmonious Living and Neighborly Conduct Act, Section 1, Subsection 5, Paragraph 14. I'm required by law to give all of you a first degree warning."

He stepped back, allowing one of his men to produce and aim a weapon of some sort at Arcadia and company. The weapon was discharged, sending a field of radiation which surrounded all three of them, causing tremendous pain, as if every nerve ending was on fire! As the field diminished, the pain subsided, being replaced by a strange, almost euphoric feeling of pleasure and tranquility.

The clerk got the same treatment, individually. Arcadia was dazed, unable to respond aggressively. She simply didn't have the emotional strength or adrenaline to muster an angry come-back, or retaliate in any way. The effect was brief, however, and Arcadia shook it off quickly.

"Just what the hell do you think...?!" she shouted in rage at the man, taking a menacing step towards him.

She was silenced by a second blast. This time, the pain was more excruciating, and the euphoric feeling lasted longer afterwards.

"That was your second warning, neighbor," the man said calmly. "Please use restraint, and be sure to focus on happy thoughts and feelings, as they will affect your behavior."

Arcadia stifled a remark, clenching her fists at her side in frustration. Jezzy and Stanley both seemed terrified, unable or unwilling to respond at all. The clerk had returned to her cheerful disposition.

As the brute squad was turning to leave, another door opened, and a man appeared. He was a middle-aged fellow, obviously highly ranked due to his uniform and insignia. The men immediately smiled pleasantly, and offered greeting.

"Good day, Overseer Landry," they said, nearly in unison.

Landry smiled in return. Arcadia started towards him.

"Mr. Landry, thank God you're...!" she began, but was cut off by a curt gesture from Landry's hand.

"Welcome, neighbor, welcome!" he said, almost with a feigned sense of delight. "And to your comrades as well, welcome to Feliciana!"

Seeing Landry's reaction to Arcadia, the men left. The clerk went back to her business.

"Sir, could you please..." Arcadia tried to begin again.

"Not here," Landry whispered. He greeted both Jezzy and Stanley, and showed the three of them to his office.

***

Once inside, Landry closed the door, locked it, and pushed some buttons on his desk console. The cameras on the walls stopped blinking and moving.

"Fringe benefits of being an Overseer," he stated. "We can talk freely now."

Arcadia wasn't sure where to begin. "Could you please explain that little demonstration?" she asked.

"Please have a seat," Landry offered, "all of you. This is going to take some time."

In the next few minutes, the Overseer explained. Feliciana had once been a violent, destructive planet. The people were filled with hate and vengeance. There were countless wars. The population nearly died out, until the Pax Feliciana was initiated. In a truce, all factions agreed to disarm and make a covenant. The violence would stop. What evolved was a system of control that attempted to wipe out through behavior modification and brainwashing all negative emotions and actions. The Peace Officer Corps was started, providing a force, under the oversight of some planetary leaders (the Overseers), which would enforce the Act. It was almost completely effective.

"There are some, however," Landry said, "like myself, who resist the PHLNCA. We hide our negative side. There are several of us on Feliciana, those who have retained our wills, and have not allowed the Peace Officers to exert their control over our minds and emotions. That is why I summoned you here."

Arcadia was confused. "So, you mean that your concern has nothing to do with the Divine Order or joining the heretics?" she asked, puzzled and feeling deceived. "Just what do you want from us then?"

"I'm sorry that I had to lure you here in this manner," Landry continued. "I was afraid that you wouldn't come otherwise. I can't maintain my position much longer under current conditions. The other Overseers are growing suspicious, I'm quite certain. Without my clandestine work and influence, our movement will fail. The time has come for a revolution. That is why you were asked to come."

"Whoa, hold on a minute!" Jezzy said. "You mean that want US to stage a revolt? To convince people to start feeling and acting bad?" It DID sound odd.

"What's so bad about everyone happy all the time?" Stanley asked. "I would think it would be great."

"Do you really?" Landry stated, laughing at the observation. "Have you any idea what it's like to HAVE to be happy ALL the time? It's a nightmare! You can't show anger, or sorrow, or fear, or a host of other normal, healthy emotions! It drives you insane after a while! Can you possibly imagine having to go through life having to suppress the most basic HUMAN elements inside you? It's like being asked to stop breathing. We have tried to condition our people into perpetual Happy Idiots, and believe me, it's MISERABLE!"

This seemed to put all three of them in silence. Finally, Arcadia spoke.

"So, what do you want us to do?" she asked, really hoping that it wouldn't mean making a long-term commitment to this disturbed planet.

"You and your friends will stay here," Landry said. "You will provide the example for the countless sheep among us. They will see your spirit, and your defiance. It will fuel a re-birth of healthy, human living on our dying world!"

"Well, I hate to spoil your plans," Arcadia said, standing up, "but this was not our mission here. We've got a schedule, and since you're obviously not planning on seeking an alliance with the Reform Planets, then our work is done." She started to exit, but the door remained locked.

"I'm sorry," Landry said, "but I have no choice, and neither do you. You and your comrades will stay here, as long as is necessary."

"Okay, this is getting weird now," Stanley muttered, standing up himself. Jezzy nodded in agreement, and walked over to Arcadia.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," she said to her friend.

Arcadia walked over to Landry's desk. "Look, I'm a very patient person," she said, "but you'll find that I can be a first-class bitch when I'm pushed past my breaking point. And you're about to go there, which I wouldn't recommend. Now open the door, so we can leave, and you and your planet can work out your problems without us!"

Landry smiled. "It's that spirit I was hoping for," he said. "You'll make fine examples, all of you, but especially you, Arcadia!"

"All right, that's it!" Arcadia made a move for Landry. The Overseer was ready, however. He fired his weapon on Arcadia. She slumped down on the floor in agony, only to relax in a pulsating feeling of pleasure after a few seconds.

"It's ironic, actually," Landry commented. "Perhaps I can get the kind of response I need better from your resistance than I could from your cooperation!"

Keeping his weapon leveled at Stanley and Jezzy, the Overseer summoned his officers, and the trio was taken away.

***

Arcadia discovered that the only way to be free from constant agony in her cell was to force herself to think pleasant thoughts. Sometimes the forcing caused violent emotions in itself! She found herself trying to think of memories from her upbringing on Ostral-B, field days at Girls' Home, the good times in Flight School. There was even that one time in the cargo hold of that old freighter with that good-looking Weapons instructor... Well, she had aced the course, after all! And that missile he had been packing...! Pleasant thoughts indeed!

Arcadia, Jezzy, and Stanley were being held in what could be considered an insane asylum. Apparently, those few who allowed negative emotions to be a part of their lives were labeled as mentally ill. They were kept in cells, but permitted to mix with the general population. They had periods in the commons, the rec rooms,
and required group therapy sessions. Arcadia found these particularly amusing!

"When you feel angry," the group leader was asking, "what is the first inclination that pops into your mind?" She motioned to an inmate who was raising his hand anxiously. "Yes, Mauldin?"

"I like to find small furry animals," he said, wild-eyed and excitedly, as if telling about the experience was turning him on, "and pick them up with my hands. Then I like to squeeze them until their eye balls pop out of their sockets and blood comes oozing out of their mouths and anal cavities! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! And then, I
like to squish their innards into a gooey paste, and, and mix it with the crunchy bones, and then, while it's still warm, stuff it up my..."

"Thank you, Mauldin," the leader interrupted, "I think we get the idea."

Stanley looked as if he was going to be sick!

Arcadia figured that their presence in the ward was to facilitate an acceptance amongst the inmates that their "disease" was in fact normal. Arcadia had no intention of playing this game. She had an opportunity to speak with her comrades alone one afternoon.

"The only was this will work is if we completely stifle any urge to act negatively," she explained. "We've got to appear to be completely sane, at least as these twisted people define sane! As I understand the process here, inmates who show 'sanity' are released eventually. Now, I know that we're being watched. Landry doesn't want to show his cards yet. He won't draw suspicion by objecting to our release IF we prove to the status quo that we're sane! It's our only chance!"

"Do your realize what you're asking?" Jezzy asked, amazed. "It's hard enough controlling our emotions in the REAL world, much less around a bunch of volatile crack-pots!"

"I don't see how we can do it!" Stanley said. "I mean, earlier this morning, some guy started arguing with me because I chose skim milk at breakfast instead of whole milk! How can I just ignore something so stupid?!"

"You've got to," Arcadia said. "We all have to. Consider it an order. It's our only chance!"

Arcadia's plan went into effect. It was difficult, but it proved do-able. The three of them soon became model inmates. They were given supervisory roles, and were assigned to help lead group therapy. Stanley found it the most difficult.

"Do you think I have a nice body?" he was asked by an attractive female inmate one day.

"Well, yeah, sure," he replied, trying to remember Arcadia's order.

The girl suddenly went from seductive to sadistic. She slapped him hard on the face.

"Then prove it, you Pansy!" she shouted, pouncing on him aggressively. It took two orderlies to pull the woman off of him. Tweedle wasn't sure if that was what he actually wanted or not!

***

The day of their release came within a couple of weeks. They were each given a final evaluation, and a hearing. Landry was present at the hearing.

"Do you have any final comments?" the chairman asked Arcadia.

"Just this," she replied sweetly. "I would like to thank Overseer Landry personally for having me committed. I realize now what a hostile person I once was. I am so thankful for the opportunity to be cured. And I owe it all to Overseer Landry." She put on her best cheerful smile, and resisted the giggle that she could feel coming up in her throat.

The chairman beamed in satisfaction. He looked over to Landry. The Overseer was quite stoic.

"Anything to add, Overseer Landry?" the chairman asked.

"Yes, I do, actually," the Overseer stated. "How can you people be so STUPID?! Do you believe for one moment that this woman and her cohorts are actually cured? She's brilliant! What a performance!" He began clapping in mockery. The other committee members looked at Landry in disbelief and confusion at his outburst.

"I mean, COME ON!" he shouted. "It's obvious, isn't it? This is a set-up! She'll get out and wreak havoc upon our society! We got to keep her and her posse locked up, do you hear me? LOCKED UP!!!"

While Landry was raving, the chairman quietly whispered to his fellow committee members, then motioned for the guards. They came and gently seized the Overseer.

"No, WAIT!" he exclaimed, realizing his situation. "NO, you see, it's only an act! An act, you see?" He tried smiling once again, but the guards kept him moving. "I"m not really crazy, SHE's the one who's crazy! I'M NOT CRAZY!!!"

The Overseer continued his ranting as he was hauled towards the exit.

"Poor fellow," the chairman said, still smiling contently. "The responsibilities of his office, I suppose. He'll receive the best of care at our facility." He turned again to Arcadia. "You and your friends are free to go. Good day, neighbor!"

"And a good day to you, Mr. Chairman," Arcadia replied, smiling for real this time, feeling a warm, euphoric sensation all over her body as she gave a flirtatious wave to the Overseer as he disappeared with the guards out the door.

Arcadia, Jezzy, and Stan had the best and most genuine laugh that they had had on the whole trip as they returned to the ship.

"I suppose that laughter really is good for what ails you!" Arcadia said.

***

Arcadia had asked to be dropped off on L-Sat instead of returning all the way home to Ostral-B. She was scheduled to rendezvous with a transport heading for B3K. She was planning on meeting Wynne on his homeworld to assist him in recruiting heretics. She was actually looking forward to this! Recruiting youngsters was something she enjoyed, and any leisure time spent on a planet like B3K was something of which to take advantage.

Arcadia made her necessary arrangements and boarded the transport. It was a commercial liner, a vessel designed to carry both passengers and cargo. She submitted her vouchers at the gate, noticing the long line of large boxes being loaded a few yards away at the cargo platform. They were of uniform size and design. Somebody must be paying a bundle to transport all that standard class, Arcadia thought to herself!

She had paid for a private cabin, one of the few luxuries that an officer could enjoy. The Flight Serjeant dropped her bag in her room, then headed towards the lounge to get a drink before departure.

As she was passing economy class, Arcadia couldn't help but notice a group of men seated together, occupying a couple of rows. There was nothing unusual about them, except for their quiet and docile demeanor. Arcadia was still in uniform. The sight of her passing by seemed to make a couple of the men uncomfortable. One of them in particular began shifting in his seat nervously. Arcadia passed by his seat and glanced over as she walked by. The man was trying to stow something out of sight. Arcadia caught a quick glimpse - it was a blue robe, Clerical design!

Her training came in handy, as Arcadia forced herself not to react. She nodded and smiled at the men, then made a detour as she exited the section. She immediately headed for the bridge.

The transport captain was preparing to depart. His helmsman was inputting the final coordinates into the nav comp. A communications officer was clearing their departure with L-Sat's docking control. Arcadia wasted no time with pleasantries.

"Captain, there's something I need to tell you," Arcadia stated, getting the man's attention. "It's urgent."

"Can it wait until departure, Serjeant?" the captain asked, observing Arcadia's rank.

"No, sir, it can't," she replied, hurriedly. "It's about some of the passengers. I have reason to believe that you've got some of His Divine Shadow's Clerics riding in economy class!"

The captain's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?" he inquired. "I checked the roster personally. We shouldn't be carrying anyone other than Reform citizens and independents, plus the cargo, obviously." He motioned for his comm specialist to hand him the roster for a second look.

"I'm almost positive," Arcadia exclaimed. "They're traveling undercover, but I saw one of their robes. They've GOT to be Clerics, sir, and we've got ourselves a problem!"

The captain checked for his sidearm, and motioned for Arcadia to follow him. "Let's see, shall we?" He turned to the helm as they walked off the bridge. "Delay departure until further notice," he ordered.

Arcadia and the captain walked into economy class. There were several other passengers seated. The group of men was still in their seats. The captain approached them.

"Gentlemen," he said, "you'll pardon the intrusion, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to display your ID cards and vouchers again."

The men pulled them out, showing them to the captain. He looked at each one, appearing to be satisfied.

"Everything looks in order, Serjeant," he said to Arcadia as he handed the cards back.

"In order?" Arcadia asked, in disbelief. "I tell you, these men are Clerics! Captain, you need to contact L-Sat and have them arrested!"

"Is there a problem here, captain?" one of the men seated asked.

"No problem at all," the captain replied smiling. "Our lady Flight Serjeant here is just concerned, that's all." He quickly pulled out his weapon and pointed it at Arcadia. "But she can be concerned all she wants while she's being held in the cargo bay!" With a brief gesture, two of the men stood up and took Arcadia by the arms, leading her towards the aft of the ship, while the captain followed, keeping her at gunpoint.

They arrived at the aft hold, and opened it, the captain shoving Arcadia inside.

"You'll never get away with this!" Arcadia exclaimed.

"Oh yes, I'm afraid WE will!" the captain replied, laughing. The two undercover Clerics laughed with him. The captain pulled out his
squawker.

"Ready to depart, helm," he ordered. The Clerics began closing the hold, and were preparing to lock her in, when the captain gave Arcadia a final farewell.

"May His Merciful Shadow Fall Upon You, Heretic!" The hold was sealed and locked from the outside.

***

Arcadia noticed the boxes that she had seen being loaded earlier. Aside from the personal luggage, it was the only cargo. She figured it to be the Clerics' secret bounty, with the men up front its guardians. The captain was obviously in on it, either being an agent of His Divine Shadow, or having been bought. Either way, it made for a big mess!

She began inspecting the boxes. They were perfect cubes, about five feet in each dimension. Arcadia thought that she could hear some movement inside. She worked diligently until she found the opening mechanism. It was one-way, being accessible only from the outside. Whatever, or whoever, was inside, was trapped!

Arcadia opened the box, and looked inside. It was a girl! She was no more than ten years old. She was a pitiful thing, poorly dressed, little or no hygiene. She was not a very comely child, overweight and not particularly pretty. Despite her obvious state of captivity, she showed little sign of fright or anxiety. In fact, she seemed quite expressionless.

Arcadia inched her way inside. The girl hardly reacted at all. So much for the frightened animal theory!

"Are you all right, sweetheart?" Arcadia asked gently and softly.

The girl had kind of a glazed look about her, not exactly drugged but apparently a victim of SOME type of abuse.

"Are you the matron?" the girl asked Arcadia. Her voice was calm, mellow.

"The what?" Arcadia inquired.

"The Matron," the girl said again. "Is it time for my recitation drills?"

Arcadia was confused. Except for being unkept, the girl did not seem injured or molested in any way. Her manner seemed quite articulate and stable.

"No, sweety, I'm not the Matron," Arcadia replied. "Do you know why you're in this box?"

The girl nodded. "I live here," she said.

"You mean this is your HOME?!" Arcadia couldn't believe it. To subject a child to this kind of treatment...

Arcadia then noticed that the girl was harnessed. Magnetic fetters prevented her from moving more than a few inches. The harness seemed unyielding, and the fetters were unbreakable.

"If you're not the Matron, why are you here?" the girl asked.

Arcadia sighed. This poor thing obviously had no idea where she was, as far as outside her box. "It's a long story," she said.

"Could you stay with me for a while?" the girl asked again. "I like you. You're a pretty lady."

Arcadia smiled. "That's sweet of you to say," she replied. "But I'm going to try to get us both out of here!"

The girl seemed confused. "Where are we going?" she asked. "To the wife bank? Am I ready?" Her eyes lit up.

Arcadia finally understood. This girl, obviously along with the others in the other boxes, were candidates in training for the wife bank! The heretic had learned of this practice. It was one of the Divine Order's most cruel and depraved institutions.

"No, my dear," Arcadia said. "I'm going to try to set you and the others free." However, without any tools, Arcadia was finding the prospect difficult, and she didn't know how much time she had.

The girl seemed saddened by Arcadia's news. "Are you going to leave me soon?" she asked.

Arcadia shook her head, frustrated. "Honey, I don't know if I can get you loose!" she exclaimed. "Your harness is magnetically sealed, and this box is too heavy for me to move on my own."

The Flight Serjeant really didn't see any options. Her only chance of escape would be to either blow the cargo hold, which would suck them all out into space (a death sentence), or to use one of the EVA suits hanging nearby and thrust herself out the airlock, hoping that another ship would soon pass by before her oxygen supply ran out. Curtain B seemed to be the only humane way, and that meant leaving the girls behind.

"I can't take you with me," Arcadia explained. "If I blow the cargo bay, you and the others will die. I can't get you out of this box. I'm sorry."

The girl nodded, seeming to understand. "Will you tell me a story before you go?" the girl asked. "The matron always tells us a story before she disappears."

"I'm afraid I don't know any stories, really," Arcadia replied, sadly, "at least, none that would cheer you up."

"Do you know any songs?" the girl asked.

Arcadia thought for a moment, then smiled, nodding. "I remember a poem that my aunt used to read to me, before she and my uncle sent me off to the Girls' Home," she said. "I can still recite it, I think."

The girl obviously liked the idea, and listened silently while Arcadia recited:

"I stand in the Rushing
Flurry of the seasons and the
Fly by.
If I fear the current,
I might drown for the
Water would pull me down.
But if I wait patiently,
There will come a
Tug on my line!"

"Thank you," the girl said. "I liked that poem."

"No, thank you," Arcadia replied, smiling at the girl and brushing her hair with her hand, "for reminding me of it." She leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

Arcadia pulled herself out, and prepared to put on the EVA suit.

"What's your name?" the girl asked.

"Arcadia," she replied. "What's yours?"

"I'm Zev," she said, "of B3K. Goodbye, Arcadia."

Arcadia could feel a tear come to her eye, as she zipped up her suit and prepared to put the helmet on.

"Goodbye, Zev," she whispered, as she fastened her helmet on and entered the airlock.

Once the hatch was secure, Arcadia released the mechanism. The outer portal opened, the remaining air in the lock whooshing out into space, thrusting Arcadia outward. She floated out behind the cruising ship, drifting in the vast openness.

Arcadia waited until the transport was well out of range, then activated the beacon on the suit. With L-Sat not far away, she hoped that her signal would be picked up soon. She checked her oxygen level again, and waited patiently, thinking about Zev, and the mighty current which had swept them both away.

***

"This is Master Flight Serjeant Arcadia Shazemne, calling L-Sat, please come in."

Again, nothing, like before.

Arcadia had been drifting in her EVA suit for several hours. She had made repeated efforts to contact L-Sat on her suit's comlink, but no response had been received. Her oxygen supply was getting dangerously low!

"This is Master Flight Serjeant Arcadia Shazemne, calling L-Sat, please come in!" she repeated with more urgency in her voice.

Again, static.

Another hour passed. Her oxygen tank was empty. Arcadia had been breathing the same uncycled air for about fifteen or twenty minutes. It was getting toxic. She was trying to conserve her breathing, but it was apparently hopeless. In another few minutes, she wouldn't have to worry anymore!

She was about to lose consciousness due to oxygen deprivation, when she caught a glimpse of a ship approaching. Was it just a hallucination. Arcadia feebly stretched out her hand, as if somehow to pull it closer to her in desperation. With one final gasp, she passed out.

***

Arcadia came to on a diagnostic bed of some sort. She looked around, barely able to move her head and neck. She was in full-body restraints. There were bright lights shining above.

The lights dimmed, as an attractive female face appeared overhead. She was wearing standard medical attire, but the pendant attached to lapel was anything but ordinary. Arcadia recognized it as the mark of a bioscholar!

"Well, well," the woman said. "Enjoying the feel of fresh oxygen in your lungs again, Flight Serjeant Shazemne?"

Arcadia tried looking around. It was near impossible with the restraints, but she seemed to be in a lab of some sort.

"Where am I?" she asked weakly.

"A good and sensible question for starters," the lady bioscholar replied with a smirk. "It's refreshing to know that Ostral-B isn't turning out cosmic idiots nowadays."

She checked one of the instruments on the panel next to the bed, then prepared a syringe.

"Why am I here?" Arcadia asked again, "and how do you know my name?"

The bioscholar had the syringe in hand and administered the injection.

"All in good time, my dear," she responded, somewhat sinister. "All in good time."

Arcadia felt the needle go in, and once again, was enveloped in blackness.

***

The next time Arcadia saw light, she was no longer on the bed in the lab, but lying on a cot in a cell. Her head was throbbing like mad, and she noticed several places on her arm where a needle, or needles, had been inserted. She was also dressed in an ivory colored robe, with nothing underneath.

She tried to stand up, but had to lie back down immediately when a wave of dizziness and nausea overcame her. She managed a sitting position, head between her thighs, within a couple of minutes. She felt totally exhausted!

The force field to her cell flickered as it lowered, allowing the bioscholar entrance. The dark-haired woman was now dressed in a skin-tight ebony jumpsuit. Her hair was draped down her shoulders. She wasn't armed, and she wasn't carrying any medical equipment. Despite the fact that she was more petite than Arcadia, the heretic was quite certain that she was in no condition to take her down. The bioscholar undoubtedly knew that as well!

"I figured that more formal introductions were in order," she said to Arcadia, standing in front of her. "My name is K'halina Pryde, and as you undoubtedly realize by now, you are in the care of a bioscholar."

She waited before continuing, in order to let it sink in.

"We received your distress call," she said, "and since you identified your name and rank, plus the party whom you hoped would be receiving it, we figured out enough to make us realize what a valuable package we would be picking up by intercepting you."

"Just what do you mean by 'valuable package'?" Arcadia asked, quite suspicious.

"Well, Arcadia, you're in a position to give me something of great value," K'halina replied, matter of fact. "Yourself."

"Myself?" the heretic asked, puzzled, hoping beyond belief that she wasn't in store for another experience like the one she had on Williams' Utopia!

"Well, specifically what you have INSIDE yourself," K'halina explained. "Your DNA to be precise. You see, Arcadia, contrary to what you might believe, I am not a servant of His Divine Shadow. Granted, I once was, having been trained by dupes like Mantrid, and yes, I once served in His Shadow's cadre, fulfilling His twisted wishes and eccentric purposes. No longer, however. I found an opportunity to, shall we say, leave, the dissatisfying service of the Divine Order, and have allied myself with a group of independents, whose goals and purposes are more in line with my own!"

"Do I dare ask what those goals and purposes are?" Arcadia asked, preparing for the worst.

K'halina laughed. "I like your style, Heretic! Perhaps that's part of the reason why I think you and I will make a good team!"

The bioscholar offered her hand to Arcadia. "Come with me," she said, "and see for yourself my vision."

Arcadia slowly allowed herself to be helped up by K'halina, and with difficulty, walked with the bioscholar out of the cell and down a corridor.

The two women entered a large chamber, something that resembled a research station. There were overhead lights shining on floor-mounted circular drums. The drums had individual compartments along their outer perimeters. Control consoles and panels lined the walls. A few other men and women technicians and staff were taking readings and monitoring the instruments.

"Come closer," K'halina said, beckoning Arcadia to follow her to one of the drums. She walked with Arcadia up to a set of compartments on one of the drums. The heretic looked carefully, peering in through the glass.

Inside was what appeared to be a person, but incomplete. The epidermis wasn't completely formed, and some of the external features looked as if they were still developing. Yet, despite the imperfections, Arcadia couldn't help but recognize the figure. It was quite similar to one that she saw every time she looked in a mirror -
it was an EXACT DUPLICATE of herself!

"Behold your clone!" K'halina said, triumphantly. She began walking alongside the drum, pointing out a multitude of other incubated Arcadia look-a-likes.

"My vision!" the bioscholar stated again. "A host of clones, exact physical matches in every way. And, with the help of the latest techniques in memory retrieval and transfer, exact MENTAL matches as well. Your memories, experiences, skills, and more, all retained and part of a clone's biological make-up. Brilliant, isn't it?"

Arcadia was standing with her mouth wide open. "But... but... I mean, WHY?" she asked, dumbfounded. "And why ME?"

"Simple," K'halina explained. "What better product to offer for sale to Heretics desperately in need of forces to combat the Divine Order than one of their very own, already trained and knowledgeable in the ways and means necessary to fight and survive?"

"You mean..." Arcadia was horrified.

"Absolutely!" the bioscholar said. "A clone army. Ready to serve the cause of Heretics everywhere. For a price, of course."

"And if Ostral-B won't bargain in flesh?" Arcadia inquired, disgusted at the whole notion.

"No great loss," K'halina shrugged. "I could easily find another buyer. Mercenaries, perhaps."

She noted Arcadia's disgust. "Is this really so repulsive?" she asked. "Can you think of a better way to offer His Divine Shadow's enemies a chance for victory? Do you see now how you and I could be a great team?"

Arcadia shook her head, sighing. "All I can see is that you're obviously a sick, demented individual who can't pass up an opportunity to play God!"

K'halina smiled thinly, expecting Arcadia's rejection. "The unfortunate limits of small minds," she commented. "I know that you're an intelligent person, Arcadia. How can I convince you of the potential and promise of my vision?"

"Well, you can try by attempting to explain to me how you plan to get around the issue of slavery!" Arcadia exclaimed. "I mean, you're creating a whole arsenal of living, breathing, thinking beings. Have you considered the ramifications of selling sentient beings to the highest bidder? Suppose some or all of them resented being sold into the service of Ostral-B?"

"That's the beauty of this," K'halina answered. "Since each clone has your own motivations and drives, why would they resent it? Anymore than you yourself would resent serving the Heretics! And THAT is why it's so important for you to help me. You see, if you were to persuade the Heretics to accept my offer, then the whole problem would be a moot point. The only problem would be if I was forced to sell my clones to some other group, which would likely happen if I didn't have an agent like yourself representing my interests to Ostral-B. Convinced now?"

Arcadia looked at the woman, feigning a smile. "You've convinced me, madam," she said, slowly with some reflection, as to appear truly convinced. "You've convinced me that you're an insane and dangerous bitch!"

Arcadia sprung into action, running toward the door of the research chamber, as fast as possible in her weakened condition. With a quick gesture, K'halina motioned to one of her assistants. He pressed a button on his console, closing the hatch before Arcadia could get through. The fleeing heretic slammed against the portal in desperation. Two other assistants rushed up to her, restraining her while administering a syringe. Arcadia slumped in their arms, knocked out.

"I see that this is going to be harder than I thought," K'halina sighed.

***

Arcadia was provided with a meal that evening in the wardroom. It was clear that she was still on board the bioscholar's ship. Intriguing! K'halina's research and labs were all part of her vessel. Efficient, if not practical, for staying one step ahead of the authorities.

K'halina joined her, accompanied by a fully developed clone of Arcadia. The bioscholar motioned for the attendant to leave, and sat down across from Arcadia with the clone.

"I'd like you to meet Arcadia #1," K'halina said, introducing the clone to the heretic. "She's from my first batch. They're fully developed, physically. This one here has just received the memory transfer. We'll see just how effective it is before doing the rest."

"And just how do you plan to test that?" Arcadia asked, studying her clone seated across the table.

"Ask me anything you like," Arcadia #1 stated. "Anything at all. It can be as personal as you want. I share all your memories and experiences, your knowledge, training, even your passions and desires."

"Go on, Arcadia," K'halina said, smiling. "Let's see just how perfect my work actually is!"

Arcadia was shocked to say the least. She was having trouble getting over the fact that she seemed to be looking at and talking to an identical twin, even more so, in fact! She was curious, however, to see just how close of a match this clone really was.

"All right," Arcadia began, "how about this one? I ran away once from the Girls' Home when I was eight years old, and was gone for two days before I returned. I never told anybody where I went. Where was I for those two days?"

"Easy," Arcadia #1, replied. "The Sembian Mines on Ostral-B. I hid there until one of the miners found me, cold and hungry. He escorted me to the entrance, and gave me food and a blanket."

Arcadia was a little unnerved at her clone's use of the first person in describing the heretic's own private memories and experiences.

"Okay," she said, shaken. "Tell me about my Aunt Rhianna."

"Aunt Rhianna," the clone answered with a smile. "Not my real aunt, actually. Married to Uncle Marlon. He was an artillerist before dying in a reactor explosion almost twenty years ago. She kept me after my parents died when I was a baby, and raised me until I was seven. Aunt Rhianna was forced to put me in the Girls' Home when she was taken ill with a rare form of Muldhavian Fever. She died a few months later. My strongest memory of her is the poems that she would tell me
at bedtime each night."

Arcadia was beginning to wonder just how private her life really was! She figured it was time to ask a doozy, regardless of how embarrassing it might be. It seemed to be the only way to make sure of this clone's accuracy.

"When I was imprisoned on Williams' Utopia," Arcadia began, "and was forced to participate in the Lesbian Love Acts performance, I had several couplings with a woman named Jezzy. Tell me, clone, what was I thinking about during my encounters with her on stage, and how do I feel about my friend today?"

Arcadia #1 seemed uneasy, and looked at K'halina. "Do I have to answer this one?" she asked.

"We're trying to convince the good heretic," the bioscholar replied, nodding. "Please do."

The clone sighed, but proceeded to answer. "At first, I was disgusted with the idea of doing it with another woman. I'm obviously not a lesbian, but I found pleasure in satisfying Jezzy sexually, and in being satisfied by her. When we escaped together, I realized that I was attracted to her, but after talking to her about it, decided that it would be best if we just remained friends. She agreed. We've been friends ever since."

Arcadia was silent. She didn't know what to think.

"As you can see," K'halina said, "an exact match in every way. You might as well try out-witting a computer!"

"Obviously I can't," Arcadia replied, giving in. "However, I doubt that we're an exact match."

"I can't imagine how," the bioscholar said.

"Well, the proof's right in front of me," Arcadia explained. "Arcadia #1 is here."

K'halina seemed confused, but brushed it off. "It doesn't matter," she said. "In time, you will be persuaded."

"Nothing has changed," Arcadia commented, returning to her food. "Your bio-genetic marvel notwithstanding."

"I hope that I can convince you, Arcadia," Arcadia #1 said. "K'halina's plan is really for the best."

"See, that's my proof right there," Arcadia exclaimed. "If you were my clone in every way, you would never even think something like that!"

Puzzled, the clone followed K'halina out of the room, leaving Arcadia to finish her meal in peace.

***

Arcadia #1 came to visit Arcadia later that day in her cell. The heretic was still in her robe, sitting on her cot, deep in thought.

The forcefield was lowered, as the clone entered.

"May I have a seat?" Arcadia #1 asked.

Arcadia silently motioned to a spot next to her. The clone sat, looking at Arcadia intently.

"Knowing you the way I do," she said, "I'm having a hard time understanding why you're not cooperating with K'halina."

Arcadia shook her head, laughing. "Then you must not know me as well as you think," she said, "and our good bio-scholar's work isn't as perfect as she'd like to believe!"

"I AM an exact match," the clone assured Arcadia. "I hope I proved that to you earlier."

"All you proved to me is that K'halina Pryde is an expert in memory transfer and cell duplication," Arcadia stated, angrily. "Aside from that, I find nothing familiar about you whatsoever!"

"Just what do you have against K'halina, anyway?" Arcadia #1 inquired.

"Oh, let's see, where should I begin?" Arcadia responded sarcastically. "For one thing, your very creation, and that of all the others, is an affront to morality and a personal insult to me!"

"I would think that you would consider it a great honor," the clone interrupted. "I know that I would."

"Second," Arcadia continued, "the whole idea of creating an army of clones and then SELLING them to Ostral-B as if they were wholesale property is just... well, it's just repulsive to me!"

Arcadia #1 looked at the heretic, seemingly confused. "What do you mean 'selling'?" she asked.

"I mean just that," Arcadia replied. "Or didn't you know? K'halina is planning on selling you and all your sisters to the highest bidder as a ready-made army of heretics!" She paused, noting her clone's puzzled look. "You didn't know, did you?" It was all making sense now.

"No," the clone responded. "I had no idea. I was told that I... I mean, you, had volunteered yourself to be cloned so that all of us could be sent as representatives to the Reform Planets and beyond in hopes of recruiting more allies His Divine Shadow!"

"Well, surprise, surprise!" Arcadia commented, rather enjoying the fact that her clone wasn't so willing to be a sheep after all. "If that were the case, I really might have volunteered, and might very well be trying to convince myself too!"

"I don't have any memories before I... well, you... lost consciousness in the EVA suit," Arcadia #1 explained. "I just figured that K'halina was telling the truth."

"Well, she's not," Arcadia said, "and it should be obvious to you of all people that I'm not lying to myself!"

"True," the clone agreed, nodding. "So, Arcadia, what are we going to do about this problem?"

"Well, what would I do?" Arcadia asked, smiling.

"Find a way to take control of K'halina's ship," the clone replied, "with as little loss of life as possible, of course!"

"Shall we, then?" Arcadia said, pointing the way.

"Lead the way," Arcadia #1 said.

Arcadia and her clone headed out of the cell, and down the corridor. "It seems like you're a chip off the old block after all, Arcadia #1!" she exclaimed.

***

Arcadia and her clone were able to make it to the ship's wardrobe without being stopped. She found an outfit that matched her double's.

"Trust me," Arcadia said, "this will definitely work in our favor!"

Getting to the armory proved much more difficult, however. Fortunately, Arcadia #1 had every one of her Original's swift fighting moves! Between the two of them, they quickly dispatched a couple of guards and several lab assistants.

"So far, so good," the clone said, as they each gathered a small arsenal.

"We need to split up," Arcadia suggested. "You head for the bridge and get control of helm and communications. Send a message to Ostral-B if you're able. I'm going to see about our little friend the bioscholar!"

Arcadia #1 took off towards the ship's control center. Arcadia headed towards the research lab.

She entered, and saw K'halina preparing to do a memory transfer on who she suspected was Arcadia #2. She quickly stowed her weapon and approached calmly.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she stated.

Startled, K'halina looked up. "Why not?" she asked, obviously thinking that Arcadia was the clone.

"I'm not convinced that the memory transfer was successful on me," she said, playing the role well.

"What makes you say that?" the bioscholar inquired, skeptically.

"I just came from visiting Arcadia in the cell," the fake clone replied. "She stumped me with some questions of which I had no memory. I think that you might need to do some more research before doing the transfer on the rest."

K'halina scoffed. "Nonsense! My methods are flawless. Besides, there's not enough time. I'm preparing to rendezvous with a potential customer in less than an hour." She started back to her work, catching herself immediately.

"Customer?" Arcadia asked, feigning surprise. "You told me that my sisters and I were en route to Ostral-B."

The bioscholar managed a shaky smile, but kept her wits. "It's not important," she said hastily. "A change of plans, nothing more."

Arcadia withdrew her sidearm, leveling it at K'halina. "Wrong, lady," she said. "It's quite important, and your change in plans is taking another detour!"

K'halina stopped her work, backing up slightly. "Nicely done, Arcadia!" she sneered, realizing the truth.

"Now," the heretic said, "back away slowly, and come with me. We're going to take a little walk."

Arcadia motioned with her weapon. K'halina slowly took a couple of steps back. Arcadia missed her hand being in her coat pocket until it was too late.

The bioscholar suddenly pulled out a flash pellet and threw it down at Arcadia's feet. The pellet exploded, making a blinding flash, and hurling the heretic halfway across the room. K'halina bolted.

Arcadia was down, but began taking shots, trying to stop the fleeing bioscholar. The smoke made it nearly impossible to see. She began laying down a random pattern, hoping to make a hit. Bolts of energy went flying, hitting panels and consoles. Sparks crackled and hissed as controls sizzled and burst into flames. K'halina dodged the blasts, heading towards the shuttle bay, as the lab began disintegrating.

Arcadia was badly wounded. Her legs were broken from the impact, and she was sure that she was bleeding internally. She couldn't get up. Gasping and struggling, she tried to get to the door. It was useless. She could barely move herself. Around her, drum after drum of clones was being destroyed by fire and electrical discharge.

A klaxon alarm began sounding. "WARNING! Reactor breach in progress! Estimated time of breach, five minutes. All personnel to escape pods! Repeat! Reactor breach..."

Arcadia #1 came running into the exploding chamber. Covering her mouth to avoid smoke inhalation, she barely managed to pull Arcadia out into the corridor. Remaining personnel were running towards the pods in a panic.

"Come on!" the clone shouted. "We've got to get to an escape pod befor they're all gone!"

Arcadia coughed traumatically, spitting up blood. The pain in her chest was unbearable. She didn't have much time left, and she knew it.

"Listen to me!" she gasped, pulling Arcadia #1 close to her. "I'm not going to make it. Get yourself to an escape pod. Get out of here! You've got a chance!"

The clone shook her head. "I can't do that," she said. "Would you leave a comrade behind?"

Arcadia gripped the other woman's collar. "You already know the answer to that," she whispered. "Nobody's being left behind. Arcadia Shazemne is going to get off this ship before it explodes!"

She heaved once, then slumped to the deck. Arcadia checked the body of her double. She was dead.

The heretic jumped to her feet, and sprinted to the last remaining escape pod. She hopped in, and blasted off, watching the bioscholar's ship explode in a brilliant pyre just seconds later.

***

Arcadia Shazemne submitted her report two weeks later to her superiors on Ostral-B. There was some question, however, about some apparent gaps in her story.

"I don't remember," Arcadia replied when asked, "and that's the honest truth!"

Return