The Replicate

By Parker Godfrey

Thirty years in the future, the United States Special Forces changes its policy to only allow clones on their Black Ops teams. Highly intelligent, logical, strong, and above all disciplined, the clones never talk back and they get the job done. They are implanted with the latest data analysis technology and any one of their five senses can be tapped into by their superiors in the military. If they fail every once in a while, they can simply be recopied and a fresh one can be combat-ready within hours.

But when Rok 9Q, the 251st clone under Operation Ragnarok, defies orders and listens to a woman whom he was assigned to kill, he finds things about the government that they never wanted found, mistakes that never should have happened. The woman is one such mistake, and together they try and take on the world's largest superpower.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 14, 2013
• ISBN: 9781304327987

Book preview

The Replicate

The Replicate

There are two different types of people in the world: those who want to know, and those who want to believe.

Friedrich Nietzsche

Prologue

10 minutes ago. 12:39 AM

Rok 9Q silently climbed up the wall of the brick building, his custom-made gloves and boots giving him the extra traction he needed to help keep his grip. He counted the floors silently as he passed them, numbering them in twelve different languages for practice. When he’d finally reached the eighteenth floor, he stopped and considered how to open the window.

The microscopic scanners implanted in his brain silently fed him data, which seemed to him to flow across his eyes like he was reading a book. They told him that the window was made of simple glass in a wooden frame and lacked all of the complicated security found on most modern houses. Satisfied, he merely spent a moment jarring the window upwards before the lock snapped and he was able to lift it freely.

He opened the window just wide enough for him to crawl through, then silently stood inside and took in his surroundings. As he memorized the layout of the room, marking all exits and entrances, he mentally commanded all of the transmitters and scanners in his brain to shut down. At this point he didn’t want any unnecessary information distracting him from the task at hand.

Even the infrared vision might divert his attention elsewhere if he kept it on. Some homes had security in place which could give off counterfeit heat signatures that resembled a human in every way, so any intruder in the home would mistakenly target the replica while the security company alerted the true resident of the trespasser.

With the NOUS currently in a non-active state, Rok 9Q was completely on his own. He no longer received threat assessment and analysis, as well as data construction of the building. It also meant that he was no longer able to send or receive communications from Base, and they couldn’t tap into his mind to monitor his thoughts. To them, he was completely off the grid. He could do whatever he wanted, and no one would ever know. But he had a mission to complete, and nothing was going to sidetrack him from that tonight.

He could make out three doors in the room in which he had entered. The one on the opposite side of the window likely led to the hallway of the apartment building. He noted it as a possible exit route after the mission was completed. The adjacent wall to where he was standing had two doors. The door farthest from him clearly led to a kitchen; there was an opening in the wall near it that displayed an oven and microwave. If he walked closer for a different angle he knew he would see a refrigerator and freezer somewhere in it too.

That left only one room. He sneaked over to it and put his ear to the door to see if it was in fact the room he was looking for. He heard faint breathing, but wasn’t fully convinced. Breathing could be faked, just like anything else.

He slowly turned the doorknob and stepped into the room. There was a woman sleeping on a bed, so he took out his picture and held it up for comparison. The photo was of a frowning woman staring resolutely at the camera. She had shoulder-length hair dyed a dark green color and light blue eyes. Easy enough to recognize.

He crept forward until he was kneeling across from where she was laying and held the photo up to her face. If he had his tech on, his facial recognition program could bring up her name almost instantly, but at this point it was faster to simply do the photo comparison. Yes, it was definitely her. He withdrew his service pistol from an ankle holster and held it close to her head.

Suddenly her eyes snapped open and stared up at him from the pillow. Taken off-guard by the sudden movement, he reacted instinctually. He pressed the gun into her temple and whispered, Don’t make a sound, or I kill you right now.

She squinted at him a moment, then recognition flashed in her eyes. You’re one of those clones, aren’t you?

Yes.

He should have left it at that, should have just killed her in that moment, but he didn’t. And that’s what, ultimately, changed everything.

Chapter 1

Approximately 8 hours ago. 5:00 p.m.

Rok 9Q knocked on the door of his superior’s office. He had been summoned alone, so he knew that it was important; if this was simply another assignment, his entire unit would have been called.

Come in!

He gently pushed the door open and stepped in. You wanted to see me, sir?

Yes, close the door and take a seat. His superior, General Hartman, motioned to one of the two green office chairs placed in front of his desk.

9Q did as he was told and waited until the general decided to speak.

Rok 9Q. You are the most recent clone of 251 created under Operation Ragnarok. As such, you lack much of the experience in covert warfare that many of the others in your unit long possess. Well, I think it’s about time we change that.

Sir, I’m afraid I’m not quite following.

I’m sending you on a solo mission, son. An assassination, if you will. You’re to take it as a training exercise, a sort of rite of passage to move up within your unit.

He nodded. He was ready. Who am I killing?

We’ll give you all of the necessary information later. All you need to know now is that she’s dangerous and to be handled with utmost caution.

She…a woman?

Yes, but she is stronger than any man you will ever face. I tell you again: be careful. Don’t fail us, kid. Dismissed.

9Q stood and stiffly saluted before taking his leave. After he was gone, Hartman pressed a button on his desk and a voice came over the intercom.

Yes?

How many will he be? Hartman asked.

The voice paused a moment, then said, If he succeeds, he will be the sixth. If he fails, he will merely be one among hundreds.

Present time. 12:49 a.m.

I can see your look of confusion, the woman whispered, you must have so many questions, yet no one is ever willing to give you an answer. That must be so…frustrating. But I can help.

Why are you so dangerous? he asked. He already failed to follow through on his promise to kill her if she spoke, so he saw no harm in continuing the conversation. There was no benefit to be found either, however, so he kept the gun ready to kill her at a moment’s notice.

The woman’s body shifted beneath the covers. His body tensed, anticipating the need to defend himself should she attack, but she merely sat up against the bed and rested her head on the headboard.

It depends who sent you. What’s your name?

He hesitated a moment, but couldn’t see the harm in telling her since she would be soon be dead anyway. Rok 9Q.

Ah, Army then. They’ve already reached Model 9? Either you are a terrible fighter, or they are waging wars they have no business being in.

He pressed the gun farther into her temple and stood up. Who. Are. You.

"That’s not important. The question is, ‘Who are you?’ You have the power to be so much more than they lead you to believe. You have a mind of your own, if only you would use it for more than what they command you to. You could go anywhere, do anything, fight for what’s really right. I’m not talking about the fake justice they’ve been stuffing down your throat since your creation; I mean the raw, unadulterated, up-in-your-face, kick-the-bad-guys’-butts justice. Plus, you won’t have to be so darn-flipping serious all the time. Like, seriously, why don’t you just smile every once in awhile?"

There was something off about this woman. Her whole speech seemed too practiced, too rehearsed. He remembered learning about people like this during psychological training. He could recall in perfect detail his instructor teaching them about the dangers of psychological manipulation.

"The enemy will try to turn you, make us appear to be the enemy. They will take all you know to be true and flip it around, making it out to all be one big lie. They will play on your good qualities and try to bend them for their own purposes. But you must resist these. These are acts of Sedition, and will not be tolerated. Anyone speaking to you in such a way is liable for immediate termination, and as protection for yourself, you will be brought in for an immediate mind purge. It is our responsibility to protect this nation, and we will protect it from all attacks, both physical and mental."

He thought about his instructor’s speech, as well as what the woman just said. It only took a second’s thought.

Sorry, that won’t work on me.

He pulled the trigger.

Approximately 9 hours later. 9:57 AM.

Rok 9Q once again knocked on the door of the general’s office, but this time he hadn’t been summoned. He had something important to discuss.

Come in!

9Q found the door to be unlocked and gently pushed it open. For the first time in his life, he felt slightly nervous. He had never attempted what he was about to do, at least not in his memory. But then, that was the point, he supposed. He stepped forward, clutching his report by his side.

I assume all went well on the mission? Hartman asked.

9Q resisted answering and held out the report. It’s all in here, sir.

Excellent! Brilliant work as always, soldier. He took the report and waited, but 9Q didn’t move. Is there something else? he asked.

9Q hesitated. This is where things got rocky. Sir, before the target died, she spoke to me.

The general looked up from the report and squinted in obvious suspicion. Oh? And why was she allowed the opportunity?

An operational flaw on my part, sir. It won’t happen again. However, before the target expired, she expressed Seditious opinions towards our establishment, and I fear that I may have been seeded.

Being seeded was a term they used to represent the planting of a potentially seditious or rebellious idea into