“You understand?” Eltessa shouted through the mic.

“Yes…I get it.” I answered, giving her a curt nod. I felt all the eyes within the trailer lock onto me, and about of reminiscence hit me.

It's been decades since I did something like this. I thought, feeling the hardline between my fingertips.

Mr Black sat next to the pilot. It seems he said all he needed to back at the airport field because he hadn’t spoken a word since, not even to his lieutenants, Stryme and Eltessa.

That’s fine, I wasn’t in the right mind to have anything worthy of saying anyways.

The trailer door slammed shut and the sound of the helicopter’s blades chopped wind, sounding thunder booming as we rose to the sky.

The sight of Bridge City was glorious from where I stood. Skyscrapers with beaming lights, the Skylanes with its seething traffic, snaking through the air. It was all beautiful to me, especially from where I sat. The fluorescent lights of the night poured in, arousing my sight with the sense of lividity.

God, I said to myself, I love this city. But, the peering eyes of my ‘peers’ who looked at me, as if I were a threat reminded me all too well of my situation. Yeah…but it hates me.

I strapped my harness to the hardline and zipped down. As I went down, the wind tugged my left and right before I met the ground with a thud. My knees almost buckled from the weight of my Cybernetics, but I gathered myself enough to then fall over.

I strapped the harness to the line and watched as it floundered back up the line. Then I hunkered down and stalked my way towards the stairs and the Heli-Trailer left me on the ELT.

On the other side of the street, the yellow and pink lights of the Shytain Hotel beamed across, like a beacon to lost souls. How convenient. I made my way down the stairs and into the parking lot of the hotel.

“GPS line to the Xenotis,” I told Nova, and a white line appeared in my cybernetic eye, leading me through a series of turns. I eventually found the Xenotis, sitting there parked in her glory, untroubled by the world’s troubles.

My Troubles.

I didn’t leave immediately upon entering the Xenotis but took the time out to really sit back and think about what just happened and most importantly, why it happened.

Nope. Nothing. Adrianna Smith. The John Doe. Akatani and his Hannya Boyz. Now, Mr Black and his Black Squadron? No, that wasn’t their name, but what else was I to call them? Heroes for Hire?…right. New “friends” then? I literally just met them, and I have nothing but a headache to show from this new relationship.

“This isn’t working,” I said aloud. “Call Rex, Nova.”

The phone rang off, but I called a few more times. Nothing. “Stubborn bastard,” I spat. Rex could weave his way through the Blacknet. All I could do was browse a few forums. This was frustrating…I needed to know who in the Imbibe Mr Black and his Goon Squad were, and what they wanted from me. A job?

“This is some bullshit,” I hissed, shifting in my seat. I felt the data chip seep into my leg. “Come on Rex…I need your help,” I said. Rex would’ve decrypted this data chip in a few minutes, at a hefty price but I was curious about what was on it and thinking about it only made me remember Mr Black’s words. I have an offer.

Thousands of thoughts rushed into my mind. And none of them were good. That picture. I thought…no. If I did…this wouldn’t happen.

I slammed my hand into the door, hearing the panelling crunch beneath my fist. “I need to find out what’s on this data chip or so help me…”

Incoming Call…

“Cypher,” I answered as calmly as I possibly could.

“Ahh…yes, Mr Cypher, you’re a hard man to reach,” The stranger on the phone said.

“Hard to find? Who is th--“

“I see you’ve forgotten my voice,'' the stranger interrupted. “…And here I thought I had some good news for you regarding your case.”

“Dr Hanstir Planson…?” I asked, unsure.

“Yes, Mr Cypher…it is me.”

“Apologies, Doc, I was shackled up for a time.”

“Sorry?”

“Forget it doc, bad joke. How can I help?” I said, brushing off his question.

“Right. Anyways. Let's get on with it. The commissioner had sent over blood samples from both victims.”

“Did you find anything?”

“I did.”

“…and?” I asked, feeling flustered by the doctor's dramatisation of the situation.

“The DNA market for the Philandric Ichor doesn’t match any of the patents for the 32 variants in existence.”

“Variants? What do you mean?”

“There are 32 Variant DNA Sequence Coders available to make a clone.”

“What?”

“They are 32 different ways to build the sufficient DNA to make a clone, "Mr Cypher”

“Why would you need 32 ways to make a clone?”

“Why not?”

“That’s crazy.”

“Right…”

“Is there any way for you to know, who would come up with such a sequence?”

“No. There isn’t, but it’s definitely new, and someone seems to be registering the patent for this DNA Sequence Code.”

“Wait what, what do you mean someone’s trying to register this particular DNA Sequence Code as new?”

“OK, are you familiar with neural hemicrania?”

“Of course I am, I suffer from it.”

“Right, but do you know why you suffer from it?”

“I think I do, but not in detail.”

“You see, your body knows what's supposed to be in it, and what isn’t. In a case like yours, your SMB is foreign to your natural make-up. However, it serves as a connection to your cybernetics. Your headaches take place because painstims and slethe don’t go well together.”

“I never made the connection…” I said but got pissed instantly. The boys in the lab just told me that I’d get a headache on occasion, but never explained the god damn bastards!

“You take slethe shots right?” The Doc asked.

“I do.”

“Good, explaining this will be easier then. You see, slethe is the enzyme needed for your brain to stimulate your SMB. No slethe, no stimulation, which means your cybernetics would be redundant.”

“so you’re saying, if I stop taking painstims, my headaches will never happen?”

“Right…that’s a reaction to slethe, you see, painstims and slethe don’t mix well.”

“…and because they don’t mix well, my brain feels as if it's been placed into a vice grip?”

“Right. Now, you see, because your body doesn’t naturally produce slethe, you will always have those reactions. Now, in a case with the clones you have there, their bodies naturally produce slethe, meaning, they won’t have such problems.”

“….isn't that a good thing?” I asked, confused.

“It is…in a sense, but it isn’t either. Were you at my seminar from the beginning?” Hanson asked.

“The Ethical Dilemma of Cloning?”

“Right. Now Mr Cypher, I want you to think long and hard about what a clone is and what it can be, what's your best definition?”

“A clone is a genetic reproduction of someone or something.”

“Textbook answer. Good. Now imagine if someone could clone themselves and transfer their brain into such a clone.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Is it, Mr Cypher?…think about it. Ever since the Imbibe, we’ve gone from literally the stone age to a technological era, in less than 800 years. The Imbibe was like a reset for us, yet, we were resilient enough to speed up our evolutionary process back to just before The Imbibe.”

“Resilience or Luck, Doc?”

“Doesn’t matter. Now. The challenge is, how we keep ourselves in check if we start cloning ourselves…wouldn’t that be a mockery of evolution itself?”

“Doc, we clone animals to eat. Hell, surviving the Imbibe alone was a mocking of mother nature itself.”

“EXACTLY, Mr Cypher…when does it stop?”

I let the question sit in the air. I sat back in my car and thought about that very question. “When does it stop?” We live in a world where cars fly, people have cybernetic eyes and arms, to their dismay. We have genetic ‘enhancements’ in the form of Cynocephalus-Man, and Nekomusumes, commonly known as Dog people and Cat people. Yes. The doc was right. The thought of it hit me like a ton of bricks. Right now, we can't produce slethe without nanites, but if we could incorporate technology without the drawbacks… we would be limitless, hell, someone would want to take advantage of that!

“I…I...I don’t know,” I finally answered.

“Frightening…yes?”

“It is,” I said, realising the notions of how advanced science was. “Ok Doc, let me see if I understand here. The DNA Markers…Coders, or whatever they call it, indicate that both Vics produce slethe naturally? Which makes their integration with an SMB quite possible, without the drawbacks everyone would get?”

“Correct.”

“But why create such a thing? It doesn’t make sense, we only use clones for food. Why increase the probability of slethe in us, when cloning is only used for food?”

“I don’t know,” Hanson admitted, voice laced in shame. I could tell the doc felt a way about not having the answer, but who in the Imbibe would? “Look, Cypher, we use cloning mainly for our food supply. It doesn’t make sense for us to have our food integrated with tech.”

“I know, but why do this?”

“I…I really don’t know, I’m as confused as you are.”

“This is bullshit.”

“It is. What has me even more confused... why would a data analytics company be registering for a DNA patent such as this?”

“What do you mean, Doc?” I asked, confused.

“Lyiez Systems. It’s the name of the company that regist—“ Hanston said, but I interrupted.

“Hold up, Doc…Lyiez Systems, is the name of the company that applied for the patent?”

“Yeah…”

I didn’t know what to say, but I was pretty much dumbfounded. After I discovered that Adrianna Smith was a clone, I didn’t bother to review the questions that Lieutenant Eclain had for the staff and Adrianna’s husband, but to hear this now, was unnerving.

“Thanks, Doc, you’ve been a great help.”

“No, Detective…Thank You. I’ve learned a lot.”

“I’m sure you did.”

That bastard is gonna look for a way to obtain that DNA Coder or whatever it’s called from Lyiez Systems…I can smell it. I ended the call in a flash and started my Xenotis. I called the commissioner a few times, but the phone just rang, and I sent all the information I’d gathered. It wasn’t much, but it was what I had.

The surveillance footage of Adrianna’s murder was “stitched” according to Rex, which meant…someone had to pay for it. Lyiez Systems applied for a patent registry for DNA Coding, which happened to have markers for high integration with, something that’s currently lacking in today’s DNA Coding, which means it would be highly sought after…possible human application.

That’s all I had. And to be honest I’m not even sure it was enough.

I pulled up the Lyiez Systems public profile once more and verified if it was publicly traded. It wasn’t, which meant, everything was in-house. CEO Stepson Vizare.

“I need a fix on him. I have questions,” I said aloud. I manoeuvred the Xenotis through the Skylane, overtaking a dozen cars in one swoop. I was in a hurry and had all the reasons to be.

I called the commissioner five times, but she didn’t answer. I forwarded her a request for Stepson Vizare’s location and hoped she would notice it. Along with my discoveries, they tied into each other so maybe that would help.

I wanted to hit up Zade, but the commissioner's words bothered me. I didn’t have a reason to doubt Zade’s sincerity, but he did give me a heads up about Akatani being after me. Whatever. “Dial Gonzada, Nova,” I said.

Another bust. Fine. The call rang off. I circled around a group of skyscrapers pondering how the hell I could reach Stepson.

After a few minutes, I finally decided to take myself over to Lyiez Systems, and see if anyone was there. The problem was, the sun was setting, and night was encroaching, which made me feel as though I’d be wasting my time, but what other choice did I have? I finally found another lead and I needed to see this through.