Lost Ar

Author's note:

This is chapter two of Lost Ark, a sort of sequel to Lost Colony (previously published) but which may be read as a standalone story. The characters and setting are new, with only the Lost Colony backstory tying them together. It is also more science-fictiony than most of Lost Colony.

All characters are over the age of eighteen. Thank you for reading!

***

-Lissa-

"I met her," Kyle said. "Skye. She's here."

Sloane stopped mid-sentence. While Kyle had been exploring lab space on his own, Sloane had discovered and reviewed videos made by Bauer which revealed that his team's work on Ark I had involved illegal cloning. She had been in the act of sharing her thoughts when Kyle had broken in with his odd statement.

For a moment Sloane said nothing, simply peering into Kyle's eyes, looking for any sign he was messing with her. "The woman in the video? The clone?"

"I didn't know she was a clone," Kyle said. Was it Sloane's imagination, or was he acting defensively?

What is going on here?

"Where is she?"

"I tried to get her to come, but she wouldn't."

"Where is she, Kyle?"

"Just around the corner. I can show you."

Putting away her datapad, Sloane let Kyle lead her from the residential corridor, back through the common room, then into the lab wing. Here the rooms were smaller, stuffed with equipment, and devoid of personal touches. Kyle shuffled slowly ahead of her, lost to his own thoughts. She hadn't thought him capable, but he seemed as affected as her by the cloning revelations, perhaps more so.

Not a minute later, Sloane caught her first glimpse of a human clone. Later, in her journal, she would remark upon the significance of the moment, how encountering Skye was a turning point in her understanding of the Ark I story. But at the time, the young woman sitting on the bed seemed unremarkable. Slumped forward, wrapped in a blanket, and clutching at an unopened energy snack, she looked more like a tired and distracted girl than proof of an illegal, experimental program.

Sloane went to her. "Skye? That's your name, right?"

The brunette blinked but said nothing, her eyes unfocused. She was clearly the same woman from the video, but now looked slack and vacant, carrying little of the bold sexuality and vigor that had made her so compelling on screen. Sloane gently touched the young woman's arm through the blanket but drew no reaction.

"She was like this when you found her?"

"No," Kyle said. His eyes had been on Skye but he turned back to Sloane. "No, she was... she was fine. Like in the video."

Sloane was missing something. "Kyle, what happened? How did she get this way?"

Waiting for her companion to respond, Sloane's eyes swept the room. One of the crab-like robots was dragging a damp towel across the floor. The bed was unkempt, and a lovely, perfumed scent rose from Skye. Kyle's wet hair. Clues were falling into place.

"Oh my god," Sloane said, comprehension dawning. "'Like in the video'? You fucked her, Kyle?"

Kyle stepped awkwardly back, a stricken expression on his face. "I didn't know! I didn't know she was a clone."

"You fucked her?" Sloane was still struggling with the revelation. "How long were we apart, an hour? And you fucked her?"

"I told you I didn't know. I freed her from the tank by accident. As soon as I did she took a shower. She wanted it. She seduced me, got right on the bed."

"She? Shit, Kyle,

she

seduced

you

? Of course. Of course she did. Yeah, I bet she had to try really hard. She's repulsive, after all." Disbelief was rising in her, but so was something else she didn't want to acknowledge. Jealousy.

"I'm telling you," Kyle insisted, "it was just like in that video. She even said some of the same things to me that she said to Bauer. I had just rescued her from the tank. I thought she was grateful."

"So you fucked her."

"Goddammit, Lissa!" Kyle had stopped backing up and now glared back at her. "Yes, I fucked her. It was hot. She's hot. She knows what the fuck to do in bed. And she smells good."

Sloane let out a long breath, hoping to calm herself. She was overreacting, or at least reacting to the wrong things. She repeated the exercise, drawing in a breath and slowly exhaling. When Sloane had calmed herself she spoke. "That wasn't her."

"What?" Kyle asked, perhaps surprised that Sloane had stopped yelling.

"Our friend here," Sloane said, gesturing toward Skye, "isn't the same woman in the video. That video was shot four hundred years ago."

"Right," Kyle said, cautiously. "They're both clones of the same person."

"But a clone wouldn't know its name, what a shower was, or," Sloane hesitated before continuing, "how to seduce someone." She was still angry, half at Kyle for his encounter with Skye, and half at herself for letting it bother her.

"She was programmed somehow."

It was the same conclusion that Sloane had reached. For a clone to have language, to take purposeful action, would require significant cognitive development. Bauer's team must have developed a solution for developing cognition in tanked clones, but how? What possibly could replace decades of natural childhood development, puberty, and the challenging transition to adulthood? The answer lay in Skye.

"When did she change?" Sloane asked.

"After we," Kyle said, hesitating as had Sloane, "after we finished in bed."

Sloane pressed her eyes shut. "Right after?"

Kyle nodded. He explained how Skye had joined him in the shower, but fallen silent and unresponsive.

"I think the same thing might have happened with Bauer," Sloane said. "Remember that the video cut, and when it came back Skye was asleep?"

'You think she wasn't really asleep?"

"What if Bauer wrapped her up in the blankets to make it seem like she just naturally drifted off?" Sloane asked. It would fit the man's personality. Bauer was a showman, focused on presenting the most flattering picture of himself and his work. He probably wouldn't even have seen turning Skye away from the camera as a deception, just a good presentation.

"So something went wrong with whatever programming they did?" Kyle was still eyeing her carefully, waiting for Sloane's wrath to return.

"Or they weren't done yet. In the video, he said the scientists weren't done sciencing yet."

"Either way," Kyle said, his gaze falling on Skye. "It doesn't feel right to leave her here, but she won't follow us, either."

"I'm not sure we have a choice," Sloane said. "We've done what we can. Let's press on. Maybe Bauer's team found a solution. If they did..." Sloane trailed off, unwilling to voice the rest of her thought. Even if later generations of clones didn't have the same problem, would there be any way to help Skye?

"We should tell Carpenter and Sanz. Let them know what's going on."

"Yeahhh," Sloane said as if still considering the matter. In truth, she had already decided how she would approach communications back to Kaybe. "I'll message them to say we're safe," she explained. "And we'll radio them when it's getting near the first pickup window."

"But you're not going to tell them there are survivors? There might be more. When I accidentally hatched Skye the panel said there were other tanks."

"It doesn't change anything right now." Sloane wanted to hold on to the story. Reports with such startling details would be sure to leak through the camp, and she had no intention of losing control of the narrative. "They'll find out soon enough."

***

-Kyle-

"Pro tip: If you want to keep up with twenty-year-old clones, stay as young as possible yourself."

When the lab wing turned out to be a dead-end, Danton and Lissa had circled back to the residential corridor. Danton had marveled at the ornate decor of Li's suite, but Lissa hustled him quickly along. Since being offered the mission, the historian in her had blossomed. When the terminal in the next suite contained another video log, Lissa quickly played it.

"As you say, Mr. Bauer." The log was an interview, much like the one with Li. In this one, Bauer was seated with a woman of middle years. To Danton, she looked stern and humorless, with somber clothing, close-cut brown hair, and a rigid posture.

"How long have we been working together, Doctor Ford?" In contrast with his interview subject, Bauer was his usual, ebullient self, grinning as if no other subject could excite him more.

"Three years, Mr. Bauer."

"Those years have flown by," Bauer said. "Can you tell the viewers what sort of progress we've made?"

The woman nodded infinitesimally. "Of course. You have been on three therapeutic plans. The first, for your muscle development and retention, is going very well. I have an image ready."

"Yes, yes," Bauer said. "Show them."

The interview switched to an image of Bauer, standing in an anonymous medical facility. Unlike his exaggerated on-camera persona, the man in the photo seemed small and uncertain. Dressed only in a pair of briefs, Bauer looked like any man entering his forties, slim but without muscular definition. Blemishes and freckles were highlighted In the harsh clinical lights.

"That was me, just three years ago," Bauer explained as the interview resumed. If he felt any discomfort at sharing the image, it was well concealed.

"And this is from two weeks ago," the doctor said. Once more an image appeared, this one dramatically different from the first. Here, Bauer stood with much greater confidence, smiling as he flexed, sharply-defined muscles on display.

"I'd say that your therapies are working great!"

"Yes," the doctor said. "Your muscle mass is up forty-five percent, and your bone density tests like that of a much younger man."

"I do feel great," Bauer said, winking at the camera, "and don't forget my hair."

"A small vanity," Ford said, showing perhaps a trace of irritation. "But yes, we've regrown the hair you started losing in your thirties."

"Ha! Perhaps a small vanity to you," Bauer said. He ran his hands through his hair. "You don't know how depressing early hair loss can be to a man."

"Of course."

"But I think you have some particularly interesting news today."

"Yes," Doctor Ford said. "Roll up your sleeve."

Bauer did, revealing a small square attached to his upper arm. He leaned forward, bringing the patch into better view. "Tell our viewers what this is."

"Your treatments require regular injections, or rather, they did. With this patch, you can receive a steady dose of up to four medications. And," Ford said, showing a touch of pride, "it is refillable by anyone, even without medical training."

"Self-medication," Bauer cackled, "everyone's dream!"

The interview continued, with Doctor Ford explaining a stem-cell therapy designed to slow aging, while Bauer periodically broke in to crack a joke or brag.

"This doesn't seem to have anything to do with cloning," Danton observed.

Lissa ignored him, a combination of her still plain anger and focus on her work. She retrieved her datapad, restarted the video, and began taking notes. Danton took advantage of the break to explore the room, which must have been Ford's. The closet was lined with more of the doctor's austere clothing, while the artwork was abstract, intense, and dark. Danton didn't spot a single photograph or keepsake cluttering the extravagantly large space. Bauer had taken a highly select team with him, lured not just by the promise of pursuing their research beyond the reach of Earth law, but also by a lifestyle in space not too far removed from what they would have enjoyed on Earth.

I wonder what else he tempted them with?

Further discovery would have to wait. Once Lissa finished with her notes, the two looked for the next suite, only to find the corridor blocked by an airtight door.

"Can you open it?" Lissa asked.

"Should be able to." Danton popped open the access panel and plugged in his interface kit. As before, the habitat segment lit up on his datapad, but there wasn't any sign that the door was sealed. The security, atmosphere, and fire suppression systems all registered green.

"I think it was sealed manually from the inside," Danton said. "I can't access it."

"Like in the lab wing?"

"Probably," Danton agreed. There, a similar airtight door had refused to open. It seemed likely that whoever had sealed one door had sealed the other. "We'll have to find a way around."

In the habitat ring, 'around' could only mean 'up'. Danton and Lissa doubled back to the common room and back up the stairs to the inner ring. Again, the feeling of gravity eased.

"This way," Danton said, pointing down a storage corridor they had partially explored the day before. "This should pass over both the lab and residential corridors. We should be able to drop down again at some point."

Danton and Lissa picked their way along the corridor guided by soft floor lighting. Crates, tanks, and storage cabinets lined the way, many opened and depleted of their stocks, fewer still sealed. Whoever had occupied Ark I had done so for long enough to make a dent in the supplies. Even focused as he was on simply surviving the mission, Danton's mind wouldn't stop rehashing the habitat's mysteries. Who had lived on Ark I, and for how long? What else had they been doing apart from raising clones? And who had placed Ark I into the odd stellar orbit?

"What's this?" Lissa asked, breaking the silence that had hung with them most of the day. She was still upset with Danton, either giving him the silent treatment or muttering under her breath when he spoke. Now she had come to a halt, intrigued by a plate in the no-slip floor.

Danton gave it a look. "I remember this from the diagram. A hatch to the outer ring, but no stairs or a lift. I doubt we'll even be able to drop down."

"I want to see," Lissa said. She lifted the lever, twisted it, and pulled the hatch open. She peered in.

"Well?" Danton asked.

"It's someone's quarters. Bed right here... it's a big room. An office area." The excitement in Lissa's voice rose. "It has to be Bauer's."

"Okay, we can keep going then double back. It isn't safe to drop that far, and there's no way to get back up here."

"Just a sec." Lissa's slender form was almost halfway through the hatch. "I think I see a- fuck!"

Danton lunged but was too slow to keep Lissa from falling through the hatch to the room below. He heard a pained grunt. "Shit!" It was Danton's turn to peer below.

Lissa lay on her back, moaning weakly. The edge of a massive bed seemed to have broken her fall, but she still looked injured or stunned.

"Lissa, Lissa!" Danton practically shouted. "Lissa!"

After an agonizing delay, Lissa finally opened her eyes. "Fuuuck," she groaned.

"Are you okay?" Danton felt helpless, staring down at Lissa from above as she lay in obvious pain.

Lissa held up a finger feebly, asking for a minute. She closed her eyes, drew in a ragged breath, and let it back out again. She sat upright. "Yeah," she grunted, "just knocked the breath out of me is all."

"I'll drop down, hold on." Danton lowered his legs through the hatch, hoping the drop wouldn't break an ankle."

"No, no, wait," Lissa said, coughing. "If you join me we may have no way out."

She was right. They had covered enough distance to have gone past the sealed door, but had no guarantees there weren't more obstructions. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Lissa groaned. She rose enough to sit on the edge of the bed, looking around the room while still collecting herself. "I'm fine. I'll look around here a bit, see if I can find anything. You go on ahead."

Lissa was proud, but not rash enough to conceal an injury. More likely she would make the most of her opportunity to explore Bauer's quarters while Danton found a way to circle back to her. Perhaps she would forget her anger over Danton's encounter with Skye.

"Okay," Danton said, relenting. "Stay here though. If I can't work my way back on the outer level I'll come back here." Lissa nodded mutely.

The rest of the corridor proved no different than what Danton had already traversed, with crates of supplies, conduits for plumbing and ventilation, and here and there a cramped bunkroom. He was impressed with the cleanliness of the place, if not completely surprised. Twice he spotted cleaning robots - one of the crab-like debris collectors and one larger model that Danton guessed was multi-purpose. Neither seemed to take notice of his presence.

In another fifty meters Danton located the stairwell and used it to return to the outer level. Here he was greeted by another common area, this one seemingly set up for dining. A disproportionately large kitchen lay along one side, further proof that while Bauer and his team had committed to spending years in space, they had no interest in accepting the usual inconveniences of such travel.

At the other end of the room was a bar, stripped of alcohol, but with stools and a scattering of implements. Danton skirted it, entering a residential corridor not unlike the one where Li and Ford had their quarters. Without pausing to inspect them he passed several more suites until coming to another sealed airtight door. The room that Lissa had fallen into was somewhere on the other side.

Danton retrieved the interface kit and accessed the habitat security system. The door had been locked with a strong code. Danton set up a brute force attack, an extremely simple but time-consuming process that involved trying every possible code until one worked. Four centuries earlier such an attempt would have taken months or years to run, but computing power had risen dramatically since then. Now it should take less than two hours.

He launched the program, hoping that Lissa would be okay until he got through.

***

-Lissa-

Pro: Sloane was certain she was in Bauer's private chambers, sure to be a trove of historical information about the Ark I mission, and the man who had chosen to make it his personal research quest.

Con: She could barely breathe.

Taking a minute to compose herself, Sloane assessed both herself and the room she had fallen so awkwardly into. Her back and left shoulder were sore, but the bed had softened the blow, and probably saved her from much worse. She was fine, but sleep might be difficult for a night or two. She swallowed a pain pill from her kit.

The promising opulence of the room helped make up for her discomfort. If Sloane had thought the chambers the scientists occupied were spacious, Bauer's chambers were palatial in comparison. The bed was enormous, carved from heavy tropical woods that even four hundred years ago would have been dauntingly expensive. There was a compact gym area set up for resistance training. A curved sofa with fat cushions occupied one corner, while a bar, computer workstation, and glass shower stall took up the far corner and wall. A heavy conference table with chairs and a screen completed the room.

The computer workstation would be a promising place to start. Sloane inspected the menu:

Public logs

Private logs

Controls

Public logs contained only one video that Sloane hadn't already seen, and Private logs was locked. Kyle could help with this, she admitted; he was good with technology, and was carrying the interface kit. But did she really need him? She selected Controls.

Lighting

Environmental

Tanks

Sloane had fun for a moment playing with the lights. There were settings for work, relaxation, sleep, and one called Sexytime which activated colorful lights over the shower and bed. Stifling a laugh, Sloane explored Environmental, which was little more than temperature, humidity, and fan speed. She selected Tanks and was rewarded with another menu.

Skye: Hatched

Jade: Nonviable