Friday, May 1, 2015

The Body Builder - Part 2

Friday fiction. Escape pod here.

The Body Builder - Part 2

Gaull walked over to the well stocked bar in his apartment. He'd been on the outpost four months. As expected he'd broken numerous federal laws on his first full day there. His first job had been to create a new clone that looked like the famous Gallente Holoreel actress Lordette Letta. He knew it was wrong, but he also knew he was getting paid a huge amount from some very dangerous people. Whilst they may have not been explicit in the negotiation he had guessed it when taking the job. He was now a criminal. He hadn't be forced, he'd chosen to follow her back here. He knew what he was getting into.

He looked over to the bed, Jasmeen was sprawled out fast asleep. Whilst he was given the choice of the escorts on the outpost he had kept to Jasmeen for his weekly visit. He'd even met her in her birth body when out and a about on the station. She was a lot older, but this is why the company used the clones. Highly talented and experienced escorts who could swap between designer bodies. Film stars, celebrities, even relations. On one occasion Gaull had been tasked with creating a replica of one clients wife and her sister. He'd got a big bonus on that one, the client very happy making his dream fantasy threesome come true. It seemed the richer these guys the sicker they were.

The process was relatively simple. Gaull and his team grew the clones to order. On the appointment day the chosen escort would come to the cloning lab and they'd transfer their consciousness to the ordered body. The neural scanner pretty much scrambled the brain pattern of the original host. They therefore kept the 'birth-body' in a medically induced coma. Once the appointment was over the lady came back and they reversed the procedure. The neural burner re-writing the consciousness to the 'birth-body' and rendering the designer clone into the coma with a scrambled brain. The designer-clone was then 'put on ice'. A huge hanger of cryo-sleep pods ready for anyone who requests that body again. 

The designer escorts were only a small part of the outposts business. From what Gaull had found there were entire decks given over to various criminal activities. They simply called it 'The Organization'. Whilst it didn't have the sheer size or the fleet of ships that the Guristas or Serpentis had, it was still a major criminal force in the sector. He'd heard about 'chop shops' repainting and fitting new transponders to stolen ships, a narcotic manufacturing facility on one deck working with local Serpentis. There were even rumors of slave traders but Gaull doubted that. Gun running and smuggling appeared to be some of their biggest earners.

He poured a healthy measure of Gallente vodka over some ice and downed it in one. Five months ago he'd never even had a verbal warning from the police, now he was committing a felony almost daily. He knew what he was signing up for, but it still didn't sit well with him.


When Gaull got to work next morning he found the lab empty apart from Daemire. He was on guard straight away, something was up.

"What's going on?"

"Special order Gaull. Its bonus time. Your 150 'k' is a few days away" Daemire announced cheerfully. He walked over to another door and opened it with his palm print. Gaull had been told that was a backup lab that was rarely used. When he entered he saw it was a replica of the main lab.

"This is the restricted lab. Usually only I have access. You do too now but you and you alone are allowed in here. You work alone when we have a special job.

Gaull glanced around. Clone storage tubes, bio constructors, neural scanners and burners, a CRU. This lab could create and maintain half a dozen clones easy. He approached the main terminal and found the specifications for the next job. It was an older woman, late 40's but very attractive. Nothing extra special he could see. Certainly not worth paying a fortune for. Probably a friend of a rich kids mum that he'd fantasied about for years he thought.

"I don't see why we need the secrecy. It looks a standard clone and nobody I recognize. Why the cloak and dagger?" he asked.

"Look at the brain specs." Daemire suggested.

Gaull looked deeper into the specs. "My god. There's a section missing. What the hell? Space for an implant?"

Daemire picked up a small case on the desk and opened it. Inside it was shaped foam and a small silver metal object. It looked almost organic in shape.

"You need to grow the brain around that implant. The instructions are all in the database. Its easy enough for someone like you."

"What is it?" Gaull asked with fascination.

"Its a prototype Templar implant."

Gaull's mouth hung open in shock.

"Seriously? First generation salvage or the reversed engineered Mordu's Legion-Ishukone-Gallenete version?" he asked fascinated.

"The later, you know, the one that doesn't make you hear voices. Its worth millions so be careful." Daemire stated closing the case.

"Why on earth do we need to build this clone?"

Daemire paused. They were called these black jobs in the business. The psych-profile they had on Gaull indicated he might react badly to this.

"Probably best if you don't ask that question. Just treat it like any another job. The only difference is we keep our girl hooked up to a CRU."

Gaull eyes narrowed.

"I'm not stupid. These implants are exclusively used in cloned mercenaries and a few select billionaires who hope to cheat death. When the owner of the implant is killed these work like a Capsuleers pod. Transferring the memories and consciousness back to a CRU. You use them where you are expecting the clone to die."

"Your paid a lot of money to do as your told. Please Gaull, don't ask questions that you really don't want to know the answer too."

With that Daemire turned and left the small lab leaving Gaull stood there.


A week passed and Gaull tried to concentrate on the regular work. At any one time he usually had up to 12 clones growing in the lab. It was quiet currently. He had four movie star copies, a sister-in-law and a step-mother as well as the special one in the 'other' lab. He kept thinking about that one, the one with implant.

That night he lay with Jasmeen.

"I'm creating a clone with an implant. I think she's supposed to die. Do you know about those jobs?" he asked.

Jasmeen paused. "Black jobs? Yeah, I've done one once. Never again." she said quietly.

"Black jobs?" Gaull asked.

"Most jobs are colour coded. Magnolia is your standard job. Just a John wanting to get his rocks off with a movie star or a woman he could never have or risk in real life. Sister-in-law or something like that which a wife could not forgive. Best use us than a messy divorce. People who can afford our services have a lot to lose in a divorce. Then we have various colours for various kinks. Black jobs pay by far the best, but are very disturbing."

"The woman's body is quiet older than usual. It makes no sense."

"Its probably some rich pervs mother-in-law or ex-wife. Trust me, Black jobs are rare but lucrative. Pink the same, just a bit more creepy. Red, well we don't do them anymore, they were the worst. Just keep your head down and don't ask questions. I really don't think you want to know the details." she said almost repeating Daemire's exact same advice. Why did they think he'd not be able to handle the truth?

She climbed on top of him. A vision of perfection smiling down at him. He knew it was a distraction technique and it was working partially as she sunk onto him. However he could still not shake the feeling something bad would befall that clone.


Soon the day came. He was glad it was not Jasmeen who came that morning but Vysena. Her consciousness was transferred to the clone of the older woman and her birth-body placed in the clone reanimation unit. Awaiting the broadcast signal. Two hours later it arrived. Gaull was alerted by a ping from the CRU. Her consciousness was being downloaded and then reintroduced to her body via the neural burner. As the process completed Gaull almost jumped out of his skin as the screaming started. He was warned and was prepared. He opened the glass front and injected the hysterical woman with a stimstick in her upper arm. Powerful sedatives knocked her out and he dressed her and put her in a wheelchair to take back to her apartment. Gaull had a pretty good idea what had happened.

He went back to his apartment and straight to the bar. He didn't bother with a glass and grabbed the bottle of vodka and took a good slug straight from the bottle. The hidden camera behind the mirror watching everything.

"We have a problem." Yvelle announced as Daemire entered the control room.

"What is it?"

"Your all star player is not a happy bunny right now and we just have had a new booking. From the Emissary."

"Well shit." Daemire sighed. He was hoping that there would be a gap before the next questionable job.

"Well if this breaks him, it breaks him. Might be time for some tough love. I think what you said when he first arrived about us not having leverage over him, nobody he loved to threaten, is no longer true. I'll try that if I have to."


Gaull arrived to the lab next morning with a hangover.

"You look like shit!" Daemire said as he entered making him jump.

"I have a feeling I look a lot better than that clone yesterday." Gaull grumbled.

"Yes. That clone. Thats all it was. A man-made manufactured hunk of flesh. Vysena had a hard job to do but she did it and was well compensated as you have been."

"He's right" a woman's voice said behind him. Gaull span around to find Vysena perched on a worktop.

"Go on, ask her whatever you want." Daemire said waving his hand dismissively and leaning back against the wall.

"Who was the clone based on?"

"The Clients Mother-in-law. He hates her."

"Did you guys....?"

"Yes. It was very passionate. Angry even. He was a bit rough but I've had worse. Was sort of enjoyable. For the first bit anyway."

"That clone was killed wasn't it and you were revived here screaming. How did he.....?" Gaull's voice trailed off.

"At the pre-arranged signal I take a drink of wine that is drugged. I'm awake but it numbs my body. It blocks the pain receptors in the brain. I can move but can hardly feel anything. Its all a kind of extreme roleplay and the Johns have to play by the rules. He counts to 30 in his head after I've had the drink to make sure its taken effect. Then he produces a hunting knife from under the bed and goes to town on me. Rules are I have to be dead within 30 seconds so no long drawn-out scenarios. Its physco-stabber time not psyco-slasher."

Gaull stood there with his mouth open. "It must hurt! You were screaming!"

"Not really. Its a very strange sensation. You can feel the cold steel deep inside you. You can feel your organs being shredded. There is little pain thanks to the drugs but you are expected to scream. That's what they are paying for. When your blood is spraying everywhere its not hard to get into character. Painful, a bit. Distressing, extremely."

Gaull shook his head. Shocked at the revelations.

"And for your last question before you ask. No, its not something I enjoy but the pay packet and the month off planet-side at the resort for doing the job is worth it. I hope to get another when I get back. On days work a month and the rest on the beach suits me fine." she said jumping down from the worktop. "Anyway my shuttle is due and I have an appointment with a beach, a hunky masseuse and a cocktail!" She gave him a smile as she left.

"Anything to say?" Daemire asked after she'd gone.

"There are some fracking sick puppies in the Cluster." he said in a resigned voice.

"That there are Gaull, and those that have huge sums of money we cater for. Like this next one."

Gaull swallowed.

"Not another...."

"Oh no. Not a Black job. However, some might say these are worse." Daemire said sweeping his hand towards the terminal.

Gaull walked up and looked at the specification.



"No. I won't do that." Gaull said quietly.


"WHY?" Gaull screamed. "Its sick!"

Daemire paused. "How old am I?" he asked.

"I have no idea." grumbled Gaull. "You are always in a clone."

"So I'm not 25 then? That is what this clone is based on."

"No. That clone has been grown to resemble a 25 year old but you are not 25."

"So you are saying that the age of the consciousness in the body defines the persons age? Therefore the Client is paying for a 45 year old then."

"No! That spec is not for a 45 year old. Its a third of that."

"The physical body might be, but not the person."

Gaull was outraged but was losing the argument.

"What if we didn't provide this service. The Client is rich and powerful. You think he'll just not bother?"

"No." Gaull said quietly.

"So isn't it better to have a worldly wise 45 year old professional escort playing a role to satisfy his sick, perverted needs in an engineered clone rather than grabbing some real-life young girl off the streets? The guys who come here are rich. You think if they did that they'd risk letting them go? Isn't this infinitely better?"

Gaull couldn't deny the logic, but for him it was still crossing a line.

"The answer is still no. Even if it is between consenting adults in their 40's and 50's, its still sick."

"I'm sorry, you cannot say no. You have to do it. The others don't have the skill. You know most clone engineers are still doing genetic changes to clones as they pass through mid-teens. We need this one to be prefect at that point. This is why we recruited you. You have a talent, only you can get a clone perfect that early in development. You are going to do this."

"Make me." Gaull said defiantly crossing his arms.

"OK. Sit I have something to show you." Daemire pulled out his datapad and pressed a few buttons and the hologram on desk burst into life. "That is a vid-clip a client sent us. A senario he wants to sert up. Its a request that we usually turn down." Gaull looked on as a screaming bound woman was subjected to horrific pain.

"We used to call them Red Jobs. We cannot put our girls through that, it ruins them. We used to use burnt-out junkies but it was too much hassle so we stopped doing them. However unless you do this we'll accept this one. Jasmeen will be forced to do it. Again and again and again... with you watching. After a while we'll then stick you in an airlock and flush you. I warned you when we met we are not to be trifled with. Work hard, do what we ask and you'll be well rewarded. If not, you can watch your favorite girl die a slow, painful and horrible death over and over again."

Gaull glanced at the vid-clip. He had thought Pink and Black jobs were sick, this was a whole new level. This guy was a psycho. He shook with a combination of fear and rage. He noted Daemire saw that in his eyes and he was worried. He was sweating. A plan formed in Guall's head.

"OK, if I do this you'll not harm either of us?"

"No we won't"

"And after my time is up I can leave."

"Of course."

"With Jasmeen?"

Daemire paused a moment.

"If you do well and she wants to go with you. Yes, we'll release her from her contract when yours expires."

Gaull held out a hand. "Deal."

Daemire smiled and shook Gaull's hand, with his palm slightly damp.

To be concluded......

1 comment:

  1. Creepy.

    Of course, they could have lied about the pink scenario, inasmuch as it resembles the undercover cop clone job from the previous story.

    I'm not entirely sold on "this crosses the line". I realize everyone has their own personal lines and that their location isn't always rational. I realize we have been given the expectation from the start that Pink and Black ops would be a problem for this character, and that nefarious actions are expected. I guess it seems a tad forced, as we've not been given his reason for why the pink ops would be so problematic before the pink op was mentioned.