Building the Collateral - 90 - Early Access (Patreon)

Say what you will, but Smith-Shimano Corp’s services were no joke.

It wasn’t long before clinics appeared in neighborhoods on Cavia. Not soon after, hospitals in every community. New ambulances were spotted in service going down the streets, bearing none of the wear or awkwardness the old repurposed conversions had. I wouldn’t be surprise if each of these new vehicles were each individually handcrafted, put together by a singular master mechanic from parts outputted from the printers in a labor intensive but oddly satisfying process to them.

Their places of healing felt put together in a similar way, each somehow bearing a uniqueness to them that marked them as something far from a deployed prefab. Stepping through one in a guest appearance revealed just how much care they put into the effort, from the tasteful mosaic walls to even the kid’s waiting area. I’m fairly sure that somehow, not a single one of the game stations had a single duplicated console.

Keep in mind, this was all apparently ‘charity’ to them. I’m almost tempted to see what ‘luxury’ would mean to them then.

Still, I knew that the true reason behind this effort had to be something to do with galactic backroom politics. Morgan’s side of the story revealed a rogue SSC division going a little crazy and attacking a Union vessel, which probably wasn’t something ThirdComm would be pleased about. Heck, I’d worried that there was an actual vengeance fleet coming my way from the Core Worlds, which probably would have truly spelled the end of my efforts to avoid being taken to the courts. But now, with this reparations efforts, things quietly cleared up and I also realized the error of my assumptions.

Maybe if it had been under SecComm, Union wouldn’t have hesitated to deploy a full military force to this part of the Diaspora. But this was ThirdComm, the administration which actively shied away anything that could look like the previous regime. They were a bunch who claimed greater responsibilities and burdens, focusing their armed forces towards only the true threats to the peace. If something could be arranged to be quietly handled via politics or limited deployment, they would rather take that option than the blatant show of force Anthrochauvnists got excited about.

So this was perhaps them strong-arming the SSC into coughing up some of their acquired wealth to appease them. A reminder that they were only so big because Union let them be so. And since the intergalactic government hardly needed whatever trinkets the megacorporation could offer, they had the checks written out to regions that actually did require the relief.

…Hmm. ThirdComm might be the protagonists after all, huh?

Well, I was under no illusion regarding why we were one of the lucky chosen recipients of this aid. Morgan’s backstory wasn’t so widely known, the only public informational release being that she was my family and to be treated as my personal ward. But if the SSC was deeply involved with her mother, my aunt, then they probably didn’t have to connect many dots once they caught a glimpse of her. The question now was what they wanted to do with my niece.

That was something I’ll ask Hermetic about when I took Morgan to see them for a checkup. After I took some precautions and arranged some backup plans, just in case.

It’ll have to wait until after I go through the sudden healthcare revolution that swept over Cavia. Going to sleep one night with just basic benefits and then waking up to free lifetime care was quite something alright, and a lot of our citizens were torn about it. On one hand, they got to live longer and had greater access to things like genetic editing or corrective surgeries. On the other hand, this was far from anything that they were used to in present memory.

There was plenty of hesitation before slow acceptance rolled out through the populace. Maybe suddenly injecting all these services into the communities backfired a little, with most wary of subscribing to whatever exciting new cosmetic treatment was all the rage among the Metropolitans. That wasn’t to say that I didn’t notice a greater number of pedestrians on the streets sporting things like cat ears and neon hair extensions, but those still remained the exception than the norm.

I suppose that perhaps the Cavian’s preference for practicality over comforts lent some explanation to the reluctance. Or they needed a bit more time to adjust. Either way, it didn’t look like we were going to start resembling the average Constellar or Skyhook population anytime soon.

Speaking of them, full glad I am to not see one in orbit around the planet. The charity effort came in on smaller vessels only, boasting only just enough combat escorts to make people think twice before attacking corporate property. If they’d sent along a Skyhook carrier, sure nobody would dare.

It’d also be tantamount declaration of local sector seizure, because those ships were more than just a big boat for the SSC. They were their most devoted enclaves, arks packed to the brim with their best and brightest, given a playground of idealized workshops to work their artisan crafts in. It wasn’t an exaggeration to call them a traveling base, but I’d liken it more to like a mobile armory that also happened to be powerful enough to take on entire battlegroups if needed.

Yeah. Let’s just...not worry about that for the moment.

The more relevant point of note was that it meant Smith-Shimano Corps didn’t come along with immediate military might to supplement our forces. They did bring stuff like databases along, so it wasn’t out of the question for them to print something in time, though their focus primarily was earning goodwill among the civilian population. So that left my administration the job of needing to protect them too, which wasn’t such a bad prospect all things considered.

It could be perhaps even better with something that the SSC did bring along: gene cradles.

Cloning was a thing in this universe. Duplicating people was somewhat even common from what I recalled, made even more evident by the literal clone soldiers the Half Committee deployed to fill out their infantry ranks. Things though got both more nuance, and more interesting when one delved deeper and learned just how far this hole of morality went, because there were multiple different types.

There was facsimiles, where exact duplicates of an individual were created with the intent of succeeding them. I mostly recalled it as how game masters could handwave and say that player characters who died could return the exact same way, somehow without violating the Deimos agreement. But seeing in action was quite different, especially when how it’d actually been a slightly peculiar thing within the echelons of the Half Committee nobility.

Some house leaders went so far as to clone and raise their duplicates as successors to a singular lineage. Forget a family tree, it was a literal family line that I recalled leaving my parents equally befuddled at the commitment to it all. To each their own, I suppose?

I also distinctly remembered there was an extreme case of some house head cloning themselves, but utilizing the gene editing to edit their gender. Then...marrying them once they grew up via accelerated development.

Yeah.

Maybe not all who fled from the Concern during the Interest War kept their screws on.

Speaking of which, about accelerated development; The more common thing that was seen within the Half Committee was flash cloning, which mass produced bodies from the genetic donor. The newborns were purposefully edited for more desirable traits and features, then also included a special sequence that would see them both age and develop quicker than most. No need to fret about babysitting or kindergarten. If you had the manna, those willing geneticists could ensure you could have an entire clone army before anybody in the Department of Justice noticed and enacted their very strong disapproval.

Because, for rather obvious, it was super illegal under ThirdComm. But would you believe me when I said that it was an area which they particularly struggled to enforce? Because the big hiccup was, according to my noble history lessons and confirmed by Veronica’s own inquiries, flash cloning had actually been legal far longer within Union than it had been outlawed.

Eesh. Slavery in this galaxy was been a much older institution than liberty. Depending on one’s disposition towards shackles too, it might even still be considered around.

So the thing is, the Cavia Committee could theoretically dabble in flash cloning. The gene cradles being offered for free usage by the SSC were capable of such and our budget might be able to handle it. Might, because I really didn’t look so into the subject beyond my own awareness of there being different development genetic cocktails. But if we were to use the one that the Half Committee used, that being a general acceleration blend, then we surely could do it.

Did we want to?

That was the question now, and I already knew my own answer to it. Yet it couldn’t just be me deciding the matter. Rather…I think that if there was any who deserved at least a say on the matter, it had to be the ones most affected by it. Those who technically owed their existence to cruel decision made possibly generations ago to birth an entire people and march them into battle to die.

Fortunately, I knew where to find Apples.

“Commander,” he greeted, not hiding his surprise when he entered the room to find me there. “You’re here a bit early, aren’t you?”

“Oh?” I asked, that response a little unexpected. “Was I scheduled to meet you sometime later?”

“No, I’d figured you’d probably want to have a look at the hydroponic facilities onboard when I was done.” He paused, then brightened slightly with an idea. “Do you want to have a look anyways? It’s still a work in progress, but I like to think we’ve already improved it a fair bit. If you don’t mind it looking a little rough, that is.”

“Not at all. Please, lead the way.”

He was right in that I could see the renovations were very much still an ongoing effort, but already there were very promising signs of change for the better. Gone were those slightly luminescent glowing pools of algae being farmed en masse, to be packaged and shipped to the rest of the orbital installation in portable packages akin to ration blocks; now, the waters were clean and pure, flowing readily throughout systems in a constant trickling stream. Barely edible gunk would no longer form on those stagnant wells.

Instead, there were much healthier plants taking their place, many already sprouting and growing readily in the new nutrient baths. If it wasn’t for Apples eagerly pointing out and explaining which section contained which plant, I don’t think I could have identified them so readily. But my Director of Agriculture described each of them with individual affection, each of them apparently akin to like children to him. So of course he would treasure and care for every sapling without second doubt.

The question was if the clones felt likewise.

“There is something I did want to seek out your opinion on,” I finally revealed somewhere between the tomatoes and sweet potatoes. “Something related to your brothers. You’ve become the closest thing to a spokesperson for them.”

“Only because of my current position,” Apples immediately played down, shaking his head. “I can tell you of at least four others who probably have a better read on how we all are feeling.”

“But you are the one those four would gladly inform all the same.”

“Perhaps so,” he conceded with a sigh. “Alright then, what sort of trouble have my brothers been causing? Any sort of family worries I should be looking out for, now that you’ve got your own too?”

That earned a slight quirk on my lips before returning to a more serious expression. “I’m more interested in learning your thoughts about potentially growing it. About bringing about more clones.”

The man bred for war froze briefly, eyes widening at the heavy topic I’d just dropped into his lap. Apples eventually swallowed and continued moving, a more tepid gait to his pace now. “...That’s a hell of a thing to drop on somebody who spends more time farming than fighting,” he told before chuckling, slightly hoarsely. “You, um, sure you want my thoughts on it?’

“I do,” I confirmed humorlessly. “It is a very serious thing that I don’t expect an answer to immediately. I would even appreciate it more if you were to take it to your brothers and discuss, talk about the new potential we have thanks to Smith-Shimano Corpo’s donations. We could resume the program that birthed you.”

“Resume the program,” he faintly repeated, brow furrowed in thought. A hand reached out to gently run along the leaf of a nearby crop, thumb and index rubbing against the life in its hands. “Commander, can...can I hear your thoughts on the matter? Not to follow, but to think.”

Hmm. A dangerous thing, as clones are oft wont to simply fall in line and comply with superior authority. I studied Apples and pursed my lips, giving a jerky nod after a moment of thought. It might be a bit of a risk to spoil self-determination, but at the same time? I trusted this man with feeding the people already.

I think I could trust him to make his own decisions for himself even after hearing about it from me.

“I think that to continue as is would be...unnecessary,” I flatly declared, laying out my reason plain. “The Half Committee utilized cloning in the early days to address a limited population to draw upon. Then once it had been in place, they simply did not stop. Even as they solidified their position and established a most sustainable population to draw from, the bulk of the infantry remained clones.

“Perhaps it was meant to honor the progenitor war hero that you were born from. Maybe it was just pure laziness. Or, if I might be putting it bluntly,” I told while looking at him in the eye, “it was simply the most efficient option. One that didn’t warrant changing after it was put into place.”

“We were good soldiers,” Apples murmured, fingers twitching slightly. “The best for war.”

“You still are,” I stressed with a shake of the head. “I would still bet on you over the Harrison Armory mercenaries any day of the week. But at the same time, do you want to be? Does war have to be the only thing that defines your lineage?”

The way my arm subtly gestured to the basins nearby was unmistakable. I performed it without even thinking, a little too caught up in the throes of my delivery. Ugh, that was just going to imprint upon him and just cause him to take my side without thinking. I think I went too far.

Yet instead of immediately agreeing, Apples continued to contemplate my thoughts. A small hope burned within my chest, that maybe, just maybe, he was taking my words not as an order- but as an argument. One that he was free to agree or disagree with, to make his own choice about what sort of future the clones deserved.

“I think,” he began hesitantly, “that it’s...it’s just not going to happen. We’re soldiers. It’s in our blood to fight. I don’t think I could ever set aside my gun for a plow forever, as much as I love this garden of mine. A few of my brothers might- but they’re the lucky ones. The ones who went and made families, built a life for themselves fully outside the military. We call them bastards and they call us that back,” he said with a slight chuckle.

Indeed, that had been happening on occasion in the background. Some clones somehow managing to fully shatter the chain placed upon them and breaking free of the military wholly, with our blessing. They weren’t estranged or cast out by their comrades, more simply teased about it with well-meaning hoots and hollers. “You don’t have to. I’m not asking you to resign unless you want to.”

“I know. But at the same time…” One final pause, a length hesitation. “I...I think that my brothers and I would be saddened if we were the last of us. If our way of life, our legacy, was just being the heralds to peace. We want to see it too- and we’d want more brothers as well. More family to understand how lucky they are to be here, with us.”

That did put in mind the fate of other clone units, as ours was hardly the only survivors of the Half Committee. But best save that for another day, when the discussion was focused already elsewhere. “So you wish to see more clones. More of you.”

“I do,” he confessed with a slight nod. “And I think many of my brothers feel the same way. But sir, with all due respect- you can’t. Flash cloning-”

“Will not be employed.”

He blinked confusedly, perplexed at the paradox I’d seemingly created. Understanding began to finally dawn when further details were revealed. “I didn’t say that the program cannot continue at all.

“I simply have no intent of continuing it without significant change.”