Two adults were summoned to help the boy—and Kelly told them that a stretcher would be required to transport him. Then, just as they were about to carry the teenager away, he cleared his throat. “Doctor?”
Kelly looked up. “Yes?”
“Thank you.”
Kelly said, “You’re welcome,” and watched the other Ortovs carry the lad away. It must be strange to live with people so similar to yourself yet not have parents, Kelly thought to herself. But with more potential patients waiting to be seen, there was no opportunity to consider the complexities of clone society.
Kelly was still screening the Ortovs when a visibly angry Colonel Six appeared fi?fteen minutes later. Snow went crunch under his combat boots, and his breath jabbed the air in front of him. “There you are!” Six said accusingly, as if Kelly had been trying to hide from him. “What’s this I hear about a stretcher? The Ortovs can’t carry each other around on stretchers. Who will haul the supplies?”
Kelly was disinfecting a cut and didn’t bother to look up. The truth was that Six frightened her—but she was determined not to show it. “Beats me. It looks like you have me confused with someone who gives a shit.”
Blood rose to suffuse the clone’s face. “I rate a sir!”
“Not in my book you don’t,” Kelly replied matter-offactly, as she secured a dressing over the small laceration.
“You’re the one who wanted a doctor, and here I am. Please feel free to turn us loose anytime you want to.”
What Colonel Six really wanted had nothing to do with Kelly’s status as a doctor, but the Seebo couldn’t say that, so there was very little for him to do but turn and stomp away. Kelly watched him go out of the corner of her eye, let her breath out, and was surprised to learn that she’d been holding it. She was afraid of the clone, and appalled by his ruthlessness, yet strangely fascinated by the man as well. That frightened her all the more.
Even with some two dozen fi?res, tarps to keep the worst of the snow off, and some high-quality clone-issue mummy bags, it was a long, cold night. When morning fi?nally came, each member of the party was given a large portion of mush, along with a mug of unsweetened tea. Once breakfast was over, it was time to reshoulder the heavy packs and follow the soldiers into the silent, snow-shrouded forest. Kelly made a point of checking to ensure that the boy with the gangrenous toes was being transported on a stretcher and was pleased to discover that he was. Could that be interpreted as a peace offering from Six? And if so, why did she care? It wasn’t a subject Kelly wanted to think about, so she pushed it away.
The trail wound between stands of three-hundred-yearold trees, and crossed a dozen icy creeks and streams, before eventually coming to an end at the foot of a fl?at-topped butte. That seemed strange since all the other hills and mountains in the area had rounded if not jagged tops. The mystery deepened as Colonel Six led the column up a slanted walkway that ran along the west face of the butte. A uniform walkway that was far too wide, and far too well engineered, to have been created recently. What might have been round windows appeared at regular intervals. Many were open, but some had been sealed, using a variety of materials. So there was no telling what the structure was. Kelly had some friends by that time—one of whom was the Ortov female who had been assigned to carry about a third of the doctor’s medical equipment. The clone explained that the complex was believed to be contemporaneous with similar ruins found on about 10 percent of the planets that had been surveyed so far, which suggested it was the work of the mysterious civilization generally referred to as “the Forerunners.”
Regardless of its origins, the butte offered local civilians a place to take shelter after their town had been destroyed, which was why Six had decided to take his troops, hostages, and stolen supplies there to rest and regroup. When the people in front of her came to a sudden stop, Kelly was forced to do likewise, and took the opportunity to look around. The sky was pewter gray, and her breath fogged the air before a light breeze blew it away. Now that she was standing still, Kelly could feel her body temperature start to drop as sweat cooled her skin—a phenomenon that could lead to hypothermia unless the column began to move again. Kelly’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden fl?urry of gunshots, distant yelling, and a physical response as the entire line recoiled in response to whatever was taking place at the top of the incline. Some of the Ortovs stood on tiptoe, trying to see what was going on, but none of the clones ran. Moments later a Seebo appeared, skidded to a stop, and waved Kelly forward. “Come on! They shot Three-Three!”
Kelly had no idea who “they” were, but followed the Seebo up past the long line of Ortovs, with Sumi bringing up the rear. Two minutes later they arrived on a landing, where a Seebo lay sprawled on the bloodstained snow. Six was there, pistol in hand, kneeling beside the fallen soldier. Other clones, weapons at the ready, were clustered in front of a metal door. “Hurry!” Six said urgently, as he waved Kelly over. “They shot Three-Three in the chest!”
Kelly was struck by the obvious angst in the offi?cer’s voice—and the expression of concern on his normally stern face. He was clearly upset, and even though the doctor disagreed with the Seebo’s approach to almost everything, she felt sorry for him. And a little bit pleased to discover that there was something the cold-blooded bastard cared about. Even if it was an exact replica of himself! Yet this same man was responsible for killing more than a dozen marines. . . . So liking him was wrong. Very wrong.
“Get out of the way,” Kelly said, as both she and Sumi moved in to displace Colonel Six. “It’s a sucking chest wound,” Kelly said, as she removed a blood-soaked battle dressing and heard the characteristic hissing sound. “Where is this man’s body armor?”
“The idiot left it unzipped,” Six replied darkly. “Can you save him?”
“Of course I can,” Kelly answered confi?dently, as Sumi handed her a sterile patch. Three of the edges bore adhesive, so that when the dressing was placed over the purple-edged hole, air could escape the chest cavity. But air couldn’t enter the chest cavity when the Seebo inhaled. Which was important because the bullet had passed through the Seebo’s lung and caused it to collapse. It was a life-threatening injury if not treated immediately.
“Okay,” Kelly said. “Let’s get him inside, where it’s warmer. We’ll put the chest tube in there.”
“They won’t let us in,” Six responded angrily. “A group of revolutionaries took control of the complex.”
Kelly stood. “Revolutionaries, as in people who want to overthrow the government?”
“Yes!” Six answered emphatically. “And when I ordered them to let us in, they shot Three-Three!”
“Did you try asking instead of telling?”
“I don’t have to ask!” the soldier insisted loudly. “They are required to obey me!”
“Let me give it a try,” Kelly said reasonably, as she approached the door. The metal was dimpled where bullets had struck it, but the door was otherwise intact. A small portal located about chest high was closed at the moment,
