Jarzen Tadel Echoes of Replication

By Robert Jacobi

Robert Jacobi, CHA is a retired Hotel General Manager; a Certified Hotel Administrator and a True Sci-Fi enthusiast. Robert has just started the seventh Action/Adventure Sci-Fi book in the exciting series of Jarzen Tadel full length novels. You will enjoy the fresh stories with a great blend - of romance, mystery and intergalactic intrigue. Robert is also the author of the Common Sense Approach to Management; all available wherever eBooks are sold.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Nov 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9780990631859

Book preview

JARZENDEX

CHAPTER ONE

ETERNAL SUFFERANCE

King Reddedar Ducattio of the Anasontars Society of Planets; a tightly controlled group of warrior planets; paced back and forth in the capital cities primary space port on his Home-World Planet, Anasontar.  The shuttle craft from the colossal warship of the Ivergentars, which had been in orbit for nearly three solar hours; had now been on the tarmac for three quarters of a solar hour.  There had been no communication from the shuttle craft or from the huge orbiting warship.  All attempts to contact either ship had received no response.

As he paced back and forth, King Ducattio–was becoming angrier–by the foot step.  The king was seriously considering returning to his palace residence, when his aide informed him; the shuttle’s hatch had just opened.  King Ducattio was going to tear verbal strips from the Ivergentars representative for making him wait to greet him.  They should have been highly honored to be greeted by the king of the Anasontars.  Instead they made King Ducattio wait as though he was a minor functionary.  King Ducattio was fuming!  King Ducattio, was not going to overlook this; as he now had come to believe; intentional slight to his personage.  How dare the Ivergentars treat him like this and on his own home-world planet?

King Ducattio’s aide pulled him from his angry thoughts.  Your majesty, if I am not mistaken, that is the entourage of Gladar Inspearator Alendares.  As the open-top ground vehicle being used to transport the arriving delegation the few hundred galactic yards to the space port got

closer; it was confirmed; it was indeed Gladar Inspearator Alendares the Imperious Leader of the

Ivergentars.

The Ivergentars were a triumvirate of races:  The intellectual Elath; scholars, teachers, doctors, engineers, lawyers, and judges.  The Louth, perfect physical specimens, athletes, elite soldiers, and law enforcement.  The Olorad, giant warriors.  The Elath and the Louth were average sized bipeds with only two arms.  The Olorad were titans; standing twelve to fifteen galactic feet tall with four long arms; the upper two arms ending in hands with three long fingers, and an opposable thumb.  The other two arms of the Olorad; located about two galactic feet below the upper shoulders; ended in large claws with razor sharp pinchers, used as weapons or for eating.

King Ducattio’s anger was instantly replace by fear.  Why was Gladar Inspearator; as he preferred to be called, visiting Anasontar?  For reasons unknown; Gladar did not use his proper sir name. King Ducattio and Gladar had only met one other time; and that was fourteen galactic years ago, when the Anasontars Society grudgingly signed an armistice with the Ivergentars; and that had been on Gladar’s home-world planet.  The Ivergentar were just coming into their own as a powerful galactic force.  The endless fierce fighting between the Anasontars Society and the Ivergentar was doing great harm to both planets; as they were seemingly evenly matched enemies.  The fragile truce was built on trade instead of war.

King Ducattio began a profound flowing welcome to Imperious Leader Gladar Inspearator; only to be interrupted when, Gladar said, Reddedar, why have you brought me here?

A startled Reddedar Ducattio stammered, stuttered; then repeated Gladar question, which he quickly answered, Gladar, there must be a grievous mistake.  I did not summon … I did not request … that you should come to Venturrom.

Gladar interrupted King Ducattio again.  Reddedar, your actions; or should I say; your inactions; made it impossible for me not to come to Venturrom.  Reddedar, you ignored the warnings of my trade representatives.  Reddedar, then you even ignored the stern warning of my ambassador.  Reddedar, you forced my hand.  I had no choice, but to come to Venturrom; to personally impress on you the dire-straits in which you have placed us all.

Gladar, shrugged his shoulders, he shook his head, then he said, "Reddedar let’s be away

to your palace.  We have much to discuss"

King Reddedar Ducattio with his head hung low, ushered the Imperious Leader out of the space port to waiting ground transportation.  The trip to Reddedar’s palace was just under a quarter solar hour.  No one uttered a single syllable during the short trip to the palace. With everyone unloaded from the multi-passenger, motorize conveyance; Reddedar ushered the Imperious Leader into his palace.  Once through the oversized, majestic double entry doors, Reddedar turned to Gladar and asked if he wished to go to his quarters or to the council chamber’s conference room.

Gladar, simply said, Conference room.  Even so, most of Gladar’s entourage went with the waiting head butler; to the suite of rooms the Imperious Leader would be occupying during his stay.  Reddedar silently mused, wondering how long, the Imperious Leaders’ visit would be.

Upon entering the conference room, Reddedar quickly gave instructions to the waiting staff.  Refreshments began to arrive almost immediately.  Looking around, Reddedar found the Imperious Leader, sitting in the place of high honor, at the head of the large conference table.  Reddedar nodded and took the seat to the right of Gladar.  Refreshments were quickly and efficiently served, and the servers removed themselves from the conference room.

Gladar cleared his throat, he locked eyes with Reddedar, and said, As I have already told you.  Your inaction has put us all in a precarious position.  I say this in the strongest words, I can manage; ‘my people will not do without’!  Reddedar, you have ten galactic days, in which to make the next delivery; in what must become, an unbroken schedule of future deliveries; or our truce treaty will be null and void.  I say again; ‘my people will not do without’!  Gladar paused, but only for a solar second, Reddedar had been nodding his head, as Gladar made each point.  Gladar blinked twice, and said, Reddedar, I need you to verbally acknowledge what I have just told you.

At his most formal, Reddedar said, Gladar, I have taken in every word.  And I pledge to you; I will make a supreme effort to fulfill your requirements.  However, you surely know; I do not control the source of our supplies.  There are many factors and other parties to be managed; in order to fulfil your deliveries.  Many of these factors are beyond my absolute control.  That having been said, I will redouble my efforts to restore our smooth delivery schedule.

Reddedar shifted uneasily in his chair; then he asked, Gladar you have given me ten solar days.  May I inquire how long I will have you as a guest in my palace?

Gladar snickered, when he told Reddedar, he would remain until the first delivery fleet was underway.  Seeing the nonplussed look on Reddedar’s face; Gladar laughed out loud; then he told Reddedar he would be returning to the Illtropar within the hour.  Gladar smiled and revealed that his body did not tolerate foreign foods well.

Reddedar had not known the name of the colossus war ship as Gladar rose to his feet Reddedar did the same.  Reddedar’s mind was racing.  Gladar would be in orbit, on a massive ship of war; until the supply fleet left for Ivergentar.

Gladar had begun his departure speech; Reddedar refocused his attention on Gladar. When Gladar nodded; Reddedar asked him if he wanted to get in some hunting; Reddedar told Gladar he had arrived at the peak of the hunting season.

Gladar smiled, telling Reddedar he would get back to him on the hunting, as even being so

far from Ivergentar, he still had a packed schedule every day.

Reddedar smiled and held out his hand in the universal gesture of greeting or farewell.  Gladar looked at Reddedar’s outstretched hand, Gladar nodded; then he left the conference room.  How Reddedar did not know; but Gladar’s entourage was waiting for him in the entry foyer ready to depart.

No sooner than Gladar’s ground transportation had departed and Reddedar was sending for all his senior officers and staff.  He must prepare, he had to succeed at any cost.  Having the Illtropar, a huge space craft of war; a rectangle forty-five miles long, by fifteen miles wide, by fifteen miles high; a ship capable of untold death and destruction in orbit around Anasontar; was certainly a reinforcement of Gladar’s dire warning.

* * *

Reddedar’s senior staff had quickly assembled in the conference room.  In attendance were the leaders of his space fleet and his military ground forces, two each.  Additionally, his ministers of defense, state, finance, intergalactic planetary ambassadors, and the two senior officers of the home world planetary defense force.  Also present were his three political and two domestic advisors.  Reddedar, quickly made eye contact, with each of the fifteen obviously frightened members of his inner circle of advisors.  He cleared his throat; and informed his staff that they had ten solar days; to restart the interrupted shipments of critical supplies to the Ivergentars.  Reddedar, quickly scanning the faces around the table continued; failure to restart and maintain the shipment schedule will find our treaty with the Ivergentars cancelled.  Should this occur; our status will immediately revert to being at war, which will ultimately lead to us to being conquered expendable slaves.  In the past fourteen years we have remained a powerful nation-state.  The Ivergentar have aggressively grown their power and the size of their military every year since the armistice was signed.  We are no longer their equals.

Reddedar paused for effect.  Then he continued; "Our only topic of discussion today is how

do we resume the shipment deliveries and then how do we maintain an uninterrupted future delivery schedule? Gladar in no uncertain terms told me ‘his people will not do without’."

The silence in the conference room was all but overwhelming.  Reddedar again scanned the faces of his assembled staff.  When no one spoke up, Reddedar, almost in a pleading voice; once more asked for solutions.

Fleet Admiral Danison Appendar, head of the Venturrom space fleet; suggested an immediate meeting with the planets Nadortoronta trade representative.  Additionally, Danison Appendar tentatively suggested a flotilla of twenty-five war ships be sent to Ordantu; to under the threat of planetary bombardment demand that the shipments be resumed immediately.

All around the conference table, each member nodded, as they spoke their support for Admiral Danison Appendar’s suggestion.

CHAPTER TWO

TECHONOLOGY ZOMBIES

Magistrate of Planetary Peace and Security, Sonacar Tabalar burst through the door of Administrator of Planetary Governance, Nason Iskanar’s office without knocking or even slowing down.    The totally exasperated magistrate demanded to know what Administrator Iskanar was going to do about the latest food riots.  All of the planet’s food processing plants were closed down again today–due to as usual–an overwhelming worker shortage.  The processing plant workers just failed to report to work.  Combine that problem with the fact that grown and raised food stuffs were in shorter and shorter supply every day; and a serious crisis–planetary starvation–is looming large; spewed out the frustrated, and quite frightened magistrate.

Administrator Iskanar took the exercised and completely exasperated magistrate by the arm and insisted in the strongest terms that he calm down. Then Nason requested that Sonacar take a seat at the conference table, for what was going to turn out to be, a convoluted, lengthy presentation.  It was still obvious Sonacar needed immediate results.  So, in a further effort to calm Sonacar down; Nason promised to reveal a bold, yet top secret plan of action; only just today being completely put into operation.

Magistrate Tabalar interrupted again, "Nason, you are fully aware; I am also totally understaffed with enforcement of the law officers.  We can barely corral the rioters in an attempt to keep them from destroying the entire city.  Nason, you better have a great plan.  And your plan must include a proposal to immediately protect the city’s infrastructure.  Nason, you know I’m not an alarmist, however, we are on the brink of losing control in the city.  If we do lose control of the city, and if there is no food; I hate to even think what the outcome of that will be.

Sonacar, if you are quite finished … let me share with you our new, and I must admit; desperate master-plan.  As of right now; only five people on the entire planet; know what I am about to tell you.  They include; the Director of Planetary Defense, Bovar Emkish, the Commanding General of the Planetary Armed Ground Forces, Radiston Branissack, then there is Fleet Admiral of the Inter-Galactic Space Fleet, Laristor Manertrop, Director of Planetary Commerce, Winterest Drensan and now you.  Including myself; you will be number six.  Before I can go forward; I must swear you to total and complete secrecy.  You must agree - under pain of death - that you will not divulge what I am about to tell you to anyone; not even to members of your own family, which, will include your spouse, and your children.  Sonacar, will you make this solemn pledge?

Nason, dire as your warning and disclaimer are, it would appear; I have no choice.  So yes; I will pledge to take whatever you tell me to my silent grave.

Sonacar, I cannot stress how serious this pledge of secrecy is.  If any of us, even unintentionally; divulge even a tidbit of this plan.  The leaker will be instantly assassinated and anyone with even an inkling of this plan; plus, anyone they may have spoken to; will all be eliminated with extreme efficiency.

Nason, you have made your point and driven it home.  I get it.  So, I must ask, can this plan be discussed among the group of six?

"Yes Sonacar, but only in a totally secure location, with full electronic interference in

place."

So Nason … kindly share this desperate master-plan with me.

Administrator Nason Iskanar, walked around the conference table and took the seat directly across from Sonacar.  After informing Sonacar electronic jamming interference was active; Nason took a deep breath, locked eyes with Sonacar, and reveled the desperate master-plan.

"Sonacar, as you know all too well; over a span of four hundred and thirty years the vast majority of the Ordantu people have degenerated into a population of nearly mind-numb agoraphobics.  The arrival of the many varied outlets of Social Media; unbeknownst to the Ordantu people has steadily; step-by-step-by-step initiated the total destruction of our society.  The process was slow at first; over-time the process began to grow almost exponentially.

At first, the convenience and the novelty of instant communication, and the quickly developed ability to live your life in real time with friends and family; who were often miles away was welcomed with great excitement and exhilaration.  The citizens of Ordantu; at first only instant-comed a few times per week … then it was a few times a day … then it was a few times an hour … and it grew to totally consume seemingly everyone’s lives.  To the point where people stopped leaving their home to interact with their family and friends.  Insta-Com, I-Com, as the phenomena quickly became known; almost from the start began to destroy the society of Ordantu.  I-Com developed its own language; a crude shorthand, which greatly facilitated the I-Comers ability to at will, insta-contact each other, in real time communications; including pictures and videos.

As more and more people dropped out of normal society the planetary leaders began to

panic.  Work was being left undone.  Even many of the farmers had stopped producing food.  People stopped having babies.  The planetary leaders, our predecessors, could clearly see their planetary society was beginning a downward spiral–which if not stopped–would see famine, plagues, and the total destruction of life on Ordantu.   Something had to be done … but what?    It was quickly determined that planetary leaders could do nothing to shut down the social media networks; Insta-Com had literally infected every instant communication network and system device on the planet.  Only completely shutting down the planet’s power supply could stop Insta-Com.  And for a great many–obvious and not so obvious reasons–that was not a viable option.

The society of Ordantu had unintentionally … internally … self-destructed.  The advent of social media was the catalyst of Ordantu’s demise.  As the semi-anonymous social media grew in popularity–the growth, was nearly exponential–almost overnight people stopped going out to meet family and friends.  From the privacy of their homes; in real-time; the citizens of Ordantu could interact with everyone they knew.  Additionally, they could even interact with strangers with similar interests; again, in real time.  Some represented themselves openly, honestly, others–a great many others–created and assumed fictitious personas; as I have already told you, all from the comfort, privacy, and safety of their own homes.

Citizens who in public; would not even tell you their age or birth date, put their entire lives on the Instant-Com networks.  I-Com, a completely generic term; representing all of the many social networks; is the preferred nick name for the current planet-wide instant social media networks phenomenon.  Over a span of several decades, more and more citizens stopped working in ever growing numbers; as the addictive social media grew.  People; who before the insta-com networks manifested felt they were completely overlooked, ignored, did not matter; people who felt they were–anonymous–now they felt reborn.  The people could put out any version of themselves; for the entire planet to see.  What people revealed on their personal-pages; ran the gambit from minimal details; to full frontal nude pictures of themselves and everything in between; even full-blown sex videos.  The Insta-Com networks were overflowing with all manner of information.  Many people were living out an alter-ego lifestyle on the I-Com.  But few people were ever venturing from their homes.    Businesses small and large closed, plants closed, factories closed, crops were rotting in the fields.  Herd beasts were starving.  The planet was shutting down.

Our military members, both the planet-based forces and the space fleet personal were just beginning to embrace this new communication phenomenon when the government clamped down and restricted all military personnel from using any form of social media.  The military members were not happy about this total restriction; however, fortunately, military discipline prevailed.

At the same time, the military; to address another identified, and developing, critical problem: how to continue to staff the ever-dwindling enlistments of the military; both ground-based militaries and space fleet forces.  To address this problem, programs, which had grown from the ultra-top-secret military research labs to full implementation; emerged as the obvious and only option available to maintain the required military troop strength levels.  Our progenitors–the ruling members of Ordantu three hundred plus years in the past–agreed this ultra-top-secret program was necessary for continued planetary defense.  Obviously, since this incredible, desperate decision was made; our elected predecessors, have directly passed down this horrible super-secret–only by-word-of-mouth–to their elected replacements."

Nason, took a deep breath, he steadied his gaze into the eyes of Sonacar, and continued his

briefing.  Well here goes; brace yourself.  The military has mastered human-cloning.

Sonacar bolted upright in his chair, and repeated almost in murmured awe, Cloning?  Nason, what are you telling me?  Are you saying the military has the ability to clone sentient human beings?  Are you telling me; the military can clone-make new soldiers?

Nason, raising his voice said, Sonacar, if you will allow me, I will fully explain.  The answer to your question is; yes.  The military can clone exact copies of anyone.  I repeat anyone.

Sonacar slumped back into his chair and almost in a whisper, he said, Tell me everything.

Nason continued his briefing telling Sonacar that over the past three hundred and twenty years the military had perfected cloning–going through many failed steps–to achieve the perfect and completely undetectable from the original, clones of today.  Well, with one small flaw, which was still the subject of a massive ongoing research project:  The clones could take no independent actions.  The clones controlled and directed by their original could perform any job the original could perform.  However, without the telepathic mental instructions from the original, once a required job or process was completed.  The clone would just remain fixed and stationary in the final posture it had been in; standing, sitting, or lying prone that it had been in when the function currently being performed ended.  The clone would remain so; until it received further instructions.

An incredible breakthrough sixty years ago had solved the problem of continuous host supervision; well sort of.  Combining the DNA of another person into the clone’s makeup DNA cocktail would also allow that person to direct the clone; giving the clones original a respite.   While the original of a clone; can only control their own clone.  The Clone-Master–as they have come to be called–the individual who’s DNA had been introduced into the clone’s DNA cocktail; can control multiple clones.  Although, this ability varied based on the intellect of the Clone-Master.  The highest number any Clone-Master can control to date is nine hundred clones; with some Clone-Masters not being able to control any.  Although that is extremely rare.  For the most part Clone-Masters can direct from one hundred to nine hundred clones; with most being able to direct two hundred to four hundred clones at the same time.  About one percent of Clone-Masters can direct five hundred clones at the same.  Also, to date there have been no Clone-Masters who can control six hundred, seven hundred, or eight hundred clones at the same time.  With only about one-tenth of one percent of Clone-Masters being able to direct nine hundred clones at the same time.  Again, to date, no one, has demonstrated the ability to control more than nine hundred clones at the same time.  This is all very technical and complicated.  Because we had one fatal clone-batch failure.  A situation where five hundred clones were totally unable to be control-directed by the Clone-Master.  Well, the short version is; we now mix in the DNA of four additional potential Clone-Masters in every clone DNA cocktail mix to insure we can control-direct the clones. This new process seems to have solved the problem.

Sonacar, shaking his head again, asked Nason, What in the world are you going on about?  Our world is coming apart at the seams and you are giving me the history of an illegal military science project.  Our people are starving.  I’m here to find out what you are going to do today; about our starving people?

Now Nason was shaking his head, and he said, Sonacar, I had not thought you so dense. Can’t you see it?  The answer to our labor shortages, which is, I think you will agree; the real cause of all of our problems; is the complete lack of a dependable labor force.  Cloning can give us a dependable labor force, which will solve all of our other problems.

Sonacar was shaking his head again and pulling at his chin.  He squirmed in his chair and

blurted out, Nason, any form of cloning, even body parts cloning, as you are well aware; is totally and completely illegal on Ordantu.

Sonacar, our planet is dying before our eyes.  I am certainly open to any other solution; especially a solution to address your concern; our ever-shrinking labor force.  If you have an option; especially a legal option, which can prevent the decline of our entire civilization and our descending into total chaos and oblivion. I can tell you … I am eager to hear it.

When Sonacar just sat there staring at the floor, Nason continued, Sonacar we are standing on the edge of the precipice.  If we do not take action today; all will be lost.  We will be overseeing the end of life on our planet.    Director of Planetary Defense, Bovar Emkish; who I believe you know, has worked out a time line on the total breakdown and destruction of our planet.  Once the decline begins: society will completely breakdown.  Law enforcement will try to maintain order but will be totally overwhelmed in less than four solar days.  The strong, who survive the downfall of law enforcement; will dominate.  The weak will be killed.  Most of the citizen will go into hiding in their homes.  Only to be found out by the roving bands on raiders searching for food and weapons.  Rape and murder will be the order of the day.  Bovar believes most of our people will be dead in four weeks.  About a third from starvation; the rest will be murdered.  By the end of the third month after society’s collapse, the planets population will be down to from seven billion inhabitants of today.  To about seven hundred thousand people spread out over the entire planet.  These hopeless so-called survivors will be roving bands of savage raiders; where survival of the fittest will reign supreme.  So Sonacar, I ask again.  Do you have a better solution?

Sadly, shaking his head from side-to-side, Sonacar said, No.

Pressing forward; Nason asked, Sonacar, do you have any solution; anything at all? Sonacar slumped in his chair.  He looked at the floor again, and said, No, I do not.

Still pressing, Nason asked, Do you see the merit in our cloning program?

Sonacar looked up making eye contact with Nason; then almost pleading, he asked, Has it really come to this?

Sonacar, we, none of us like this option.  The harsh reality is; none of us has come up with any other plan–that has even a slight chance–of any degree of success.  As I have told you, none of us like this option.  But what other choice do we have?  Sonacar, even the cloning plan is not a complete guarantee of success.  The top-secret work the military has done over the past three hundred years, in particular in the past sixty years is our only option.  And the cloning option is fraught with problems and limitations we must find solutions to.  Sonacar, are you with us?

Sitting up straight in is chair, Sonacar said, It would seem I must support the cloning project.  Because, I agree; it would appear to be our only option … so, what can I do to help?

Sonacar, I cannot tell you how pleased we are to add you to our small clandestine group.  Having you on board, will greatly facilitate the smooth introduction; of cloned military enforcement of the law officers, into the civilian police ranks.  I am certain there will be additional tasks for you.  I will pass them on to you as they present.  Additionally, in the near future, we may come to you with a big ask.  Just as Nason was saying this; a military medical technician entered the private chamber.  Nason said, Sonacar please allow the technician draw some blood."

As Sonacar was removing his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeve, he asked, "Nason, why

am I submitting to a blood draw?"

The friendly smile back on his face, Nason answered, "Sonacar, it may come to nothing;

however, every member of our group is being tested for their ability to become a Clone-Master.  I myself, was a poor candidate and the group decided; I would not be made a Clone-Master.  General Radiston Branissack, was also not selected; Winterest Drenasar’s test came back rating him as only a marginal candidate.  At this time; it has been decided not to elevate him to Clone-Master.  It is hoped you will qualify as a Clone-Master.  The group feels it is very important–for this group–to remain in control of the planetary government.  The group hopes that as many members of our group, as possible, can become Clone-Masters."

Sonacar, returned Nason’s smile, and responded, I can clearly see why our group must remain in control.  With the cloning project being totally illegal.  It could be rather hard to explain or justify.

Nason’s smile vanished, as he asked, Sonacar, you said you are committed to the cloning project.  You are, committed to the project; correct?

"Relax Nason, as I have told you; I am totally committed to the illegal cloning project.  However, cloning is still against the laws of Ordantu, and I am after all; the primary law enforcement officer on the planet. 

Sonacar, that is something else, in your spare time, you can think about: how to make cloning legal on Ordantu? 

Nason, I’m still wrapping my head around this entire new development.  I came into your

office this morning seeking the immediate solution for two major problems.  What I got was not at all what I was after; then in a way; it is.  As to legalizing cloning; that will have to wait.  My mind is barraging itself with questions.  The first of which is; when can I expect the necessary infusion of workers needed to start food production.  Then, I’d like to get additional information on the dependability of the clones; on their care and feeding.  I don’t even know what questions to ask.  I am definitely playing a deadly game of catch up.  In the first place; food production worker shortages are not even my domain.  They are the province of the Secretary of Commerce, Winterest Drenasar.  Who it would appear has no solution to the problem, and who does not even have the common curtesy, to return my vidcalls.  I plan to dump this problem, his problem, right in his lap this morning.  His office will be my next stop."

Sonacar, hold off on that visit.  Even as we speak; twelve thousand six hundred cloned food processing plant workers are being delivered and installed in the six largest food processing plants. Additionally, ten thousand farm workers are being delivered to ten large farms, we are personally overseeing. Winterest could not respond to your vidcalls; until right now, you were not in the know.  Now that you have joined our group, once I inform the other members, you will be in the loop.

Nason, how is that even possible?  You said the program was being launched today?

"Launched today; yes Sonacar, the program is being officially launched today.  The preparations for the launch have been in the planning stages for ten solar months.  We had hoped to launch the program six solar months ago.  However, problem, after problem, after problem; had us pushing the launch date ever forward.  Today’s current crises forced us to launch, even though all of the problems have not been worked out.  It was decided, we were close enough, and if we waited until every problem was solved; we might never launch.  So, with this final broken straw; we launched.  On a side note, we have been selling clones, without a clone master; to the Ivergentar for nearly a solar year.  Although, I cannot for the life of me figure out what the Ivergentar do with unmanageable clones. These secret monies from the sale of clones to the Ivergentar; are being used to fund our cloning operations, without using tax dollars; the use of which we could not explain away.

Nason, doing the quick math, if we are installing over twelve thousand cloned food processing workers plus ten thousand farm workers today; how many Clone-Masters do we have?  At nine hundred clone workers per Clone-Masters it; would take twenty-six or more top-level Clone-Masters just for the workers we are adding today.    Just how many Clone-Masters do we have?

"Sonacar, we have far too few Clone-Masters.  The military high command has had this project in hand for the past sixty years.  Currently, the military’s program has ninety-nine Clone-Masters.

Nason that would seem to be pretty impressive numbers.

Not at all Sonacar.  That result is, after nearly all ninety-four thousand military officers from every branch of the military were tested.  Only an infinitesimal number of people measured up to the required DNA levels.  This is the reason it is so important that the members of our group be tested.  The twenty-six Top-Level Clone-Masters have figured out how rare and therefore how valuable and how powerful they are.  We were able to nip this growing problem in the bud; when it turned out Admiral Laristor Manertrop tested out as a Nine-Tron; as the military had named them.

Nine-Tron?  Nason, please explain?

As I just told you, currently, the military’s program has ninety-nine Clone-Masters–twenty-six of them, are as you have labeled them; Top-Level Clone-Masters or Nine Trons – each capable of controlling nine hundred clones.  The remainder primarily fall into three categories: thirty-eight–Five-Tron Clone-Masters - each capable of controlling five hundred clones; twenty-one–Four-Tron Clone-Masters - each capable of controlling four hundred clones; fourteen–three-Tron Clone-Masters - each capable of controlling three hundred clones."

Long-ago, the military discovered the differences, in the number of clones a Clone-Master could control.  So being the military; they came up with a ranking scenario.  It had been well established that