“Name?” The officer did not even look up from his pad. His partner shifted her weight, hand on her compliance pistol.
“Byr Goefin.”
“Designated skillset?”
“Pilot.”
That got him a disbelieving look. Byr handed over his data chit to prove it. He watched as the officer slide it into his reader. “Looks good.” The other officer visibly relaxed, taking her hand off her pistol.
The man shook his head. “10th one this week. I am going stop taking shuttles and use ground transport if they keep minting new rookies this fast.”
Byr opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. The Slave Re-Patronization Society reeducation class had warned him: don’t argue with station officers, even though they served the public. Some slaves lashed out at authority figures out of sheer anger. The authorities rarely had any sympathy.
The second officer hit a few keys and handed him back his chit. “Docking bay 34. You will sleep on your ship unless you have credits for a pilot’s berth. I suggest you just sleep on the ship, get used to it sooner rather than later. You are going to spend a lot of time on that ship out in the Deep Dark.”
Again, he bit his tongue and nodded, taking the chit and glancing at the directions to the docking bay. Every one of the hundreds of Rings he had been on were exactly the same and he really did not need to do so, but it would have looked odd. Don’t attract attention… stay under their radar.
-------
Technically Byr had not been a slave. He was a clone, an unethical one if not illegal. “People are not illegal.” the Matron at the Slave Re-Patronization home had said. “You did nothing wrong.”
If she only knew…
Byr was a type B clone, one of 26 created to serve his Prime, Goefin. The remote system was run by an elite group of 100,000 Prime citizens, each of whom kept 26 clones to cater to their needs. Extremely paranoid, the Primes created clones to ensure absolute loyalty and devotion to the Prime, and the Prime alone. Each one was genetically altered from the pure genome of the Prime.
Clones B-F were specialists: Pilots, doctors, accountants, etc. A “B” clone as a pilot was unusual, but Prime Goefin was an ambassador of sorts, and wanted his best specialist clone piloting his ship.
Clones G-T were household staff and general utility clones.
U-Z were the 6 bodyguards, each genetically enhanced for combat and extreme loyalty. They were led by the Alpha Clone, an exact copy of the Prime Genome, allowed to vote on behalf of the Prime and reproduce according to the Prime’s desires. The Alpha clone and Prime were rarely in the same place as the Alpha was the insurance policy: in event of death the Alpha would be mindwiped and the Prime’s state reloaded into the body.
“Byr Goefin.”
“Designated skillset?”
“Pilot.”
That got him a disbelieving look. Byr handed over his data chit to prove it. He watched as the officer slide it into his reader. “Looks good.” The other officer visibly relaxed, taking her hand off her pistol.
The man shook his head. “10th one this week. I am going stop taking shuttles and use ground transport if they keep minting new rookies this fast.”
Byr opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. The Slave Re-Patronization Society reeducation class had warned him: don’t argue with station officers, even though they served the public. Some slaves lashed out at authority figures out of sheer anger. The authorities rarely had any sympathy.
The second officer hit a few keys and handed him back his chit. “Docking bay 34. You will sleep on your ship unless you have credits for a pilot’s berth. I suggest you just sleep on the ship, get used to it sooner rather than later. You are going to spend a lot of time on that ship out in the Deep Dark.”
Again, he bit his tongue and nodded, taking the chit and glancing at the directions to the docking bay. Every one of the hundreds of Rings he had been on were exactly the same and he really did not need to do so, but it would have looked odd. Don’t attract attention… stay under their radar.
-------
Technically Byr had not been a slave. He was a clone, an unethical one if not illegal. “People are not illegal.” the Matron at the Slave Re-Patronization home had said. “You did nothing wrong.”
If she only knew…
Byr was a type B clone, one of 26 created to serve his Prime, Goefin. The remote system was run by an elite group of 100,000 Prime citizens, each of whom kept 26 clones to cater to their needs. Extremely paranoid, the Primes created clones to ensure absolute loyalty and devotion to the Prime, and the Prime alone. Each one was genetically altered from the pure genome of the Prime.
Clones B-F were specialists: Pilots, doctors, accountants, etc. A “B” clone as a pilot was unusual, but Prime Goefin was an ambassador of sorts, and wanted his best specialist clone piloting his ship.
Clones G-T were household staff and general utility clones.
U-Z were the 6 bodyguards, each genetically enhanced for combat and extreme loyalty. They were led by the Alpha Clone, an exact copy of the Prime Genome, allowed to vote on behalf of the Prime and reproduce according to the Prime’s desires. The Alpha clone and Prime were rarely in the same place as the Alpha was the insurance policy: in event of death the Alpha would be mindwiped and the Prime’s state reloaded into the body.