Ky

“What in the five hells of the Lost City of Sin is going on here?”

I let out a low exhale, knowing that voice even though I had only ever met the drowner sewer scum once in my life. It was about time the crooked diner owner came around. I could still remember the day he had issued his half-assed apology after one of his clones had taken away my sight. Though the clone misbehavior was in part largely due to her defective nature, it did not change that had he been more concerned with looking after his property responsibility and not so concerned about earning, quick, easy money, things might have played out differently.

I might still be able to see.

My lips lifted in contempt even as I tried to school my expression into one of expressionless professionalism. I turned to him, able to track his whereabouts with the help of my visor. His large and hulking shape was moving through the flooded sidewalk. I could hear the loud slapping splashes as he charged angrily towards me, the unevenness to his steps giving away his robotic leg enhancement.

“We are recalling the Marilyns,” I answered in a careful monotone. Gage Haskell was the owner of the chain of dive diners called Gage’s Kitchen. It was where cheap printed food was brought to the table by a clone posing as a waitress. It was one of those sordid lower city establishments where the law was seen as more of a guideline than the strict set of rules it was meant to be. It was no secret that half of them were just a flimsy front for a clone body trader. Though Haskell himself lived up in the Elevated towers, he would never really be Elevated.

“You can’t just go taking ‘em away like that. Those girls don’t come cheap, you fucking crook. I even just got one of ‘em fitted for an eyechip and all. What a damn joke."

I frowned. A Marilyn with an eyechip. Haskell really didn’t give a shit about any of the laws. To think, one of them was running around the V-World gave me chills. Next thing he’ll tell me she was a running Galactica champ. Just thinking I might have been teamed up with such a thing was disquieting.

I let out a breath in order to calm myself. It was best I didn’t think of that damn game right now, especially after last night’s disaster. Not right now when I was trying to deal with the fuming clone owner.

“You should know better than to go mindlessly wasting your money like that, it's unlike you.”

Haskell wasn’t having it. “It wasn’t no waste of money with that one. Never missed a single day of work. It don’t hurt to treat them like real people sometimes, makes them work harder.”

I turned to watch as one of his men returned from the neighboring section of the district. I brought up his stats on my inner interface, the virtually enhanced screen overlayed my mental vision. He had accounted for and scanned all five Marilyns registered to the owner Marx Jennison, who ran a factory chain that produced cheap assistants, like Starlas and Novas. He had been quicker than the rest, probably because Jennison had already been flushing out his clones in favor of android labor instead.

Androids didn’t need food, shelter, or water.

Haskell, however, was much more resistant to change.

“You better be reimbursing me. I’m going to need to fill the diners that are all short staffed now. The oldest one I got all the way out in Los Malvados, and she didn’t come cheap.”

Los Malvados. Figured that Haskell would be out wandering the depraved desert city. Even though New Atlantis was covered in a layer of water half the time, it was hard to remember what water looked like out in Malvados. Frequent dust storms often half buried the city, and it was said that water sold for five times its usual price. Which probably explained why liquor sold for so cheap, leaving most of the city in a perpetual hangover. Haskell had probably bought his clone out at one of their auctions, where clone and human alike could catch a good price when sold to the highest bidder.

I shrugged, more data rolling in across my screen registering that another group of clones were accounted for and loaded into the droner. There the androids would keep watch on them until we got them back to ECCO to ready for the recall procedures. We hadn’t received the go-ahead to decommissioned them quite yet, but for now, we would hold them there until my father got the paperwork finalized.

“Hey, rich boy. Are you listening to me? I want my money back.”

I turned, fixing Haskell’s infrared shadow with my metallic glare. Even though my damaged eyes were not visible under my visor, that did not change the intensity I could convey when I needed too.

I was an Edden. I was Elevated. No one, not even Gage Haskell, would forget that.

“I can hear you quite well, Haskell. When one of your senses doesn’t work, you learn to rely more heavily on the ones you still have,” I bit out. “It is not my fault that you invested your poorly earned money in worn out resources. I am sure the Emperor has a plan in mind, though I do not know what that will be at this time. I just know clones, all clones, are full of defects and problems. If you should take anything from this, it should be to spend your money wisely. The clone industry is dying.” I paused, turning as an alert flashed on my interface.

“The future will be free of clone contamination, the Marilyn's are only the beginning. Now I have other business to attend to. Good day, Haskell,” I finished shortly. Haskell sputtered, but I didn’t give him time to respond. I had no time to deal with the blithering fool right now.

I walked away in annoyance, cringing as water sloshed around my feet. I could feel it seeping into my clothes, and couldn’t wait to be finished with this procedure and out of the city's swamp. With a frustrated sigh, I opened up the alert that was still flashing red at the bottom of my screen. I finally focused my attention on it.

It flashed up as it scrolled across my inner vision, and I stopped dead. Useless bloody idiots.

"Marilyn 350 unaccounted for. Marilyn 350 not found in Haskell district. All units on alert."