The Phoenix Conspiracy (53 page)

"So then why?" asked Calvin. "I doubt
you wanted to start a war."

"A war? No, a war's the last thing our
delicate Empire needs. My motives go far deeper than that. Can't
you see them?"

Calvin wasn't sure what to
make of this game Raidan was playing. They both knew Calvin
couldn't know Raidan's real motives unless he told him. Why the
charade?
Maybe it’s a test. He wants to
know if I’m an asset before telling me more.

All Calvin could think to do was
continue playing the game. "I believe you sacrificed everything
because you wanted to kill those Rotham ships. Not because of who
they were, but what they were carrying."

Raidan nodded. "That's exactly
right."

"So what
were
they carrying?" Calvin folded
his arms. "What could possibly be worth giving up everything
for?"

"They had Class One Cargo. A
cargo worth dying for, if necessary," Raidan paused. "When I made
the choice to strike, I did not know if I was signing my own death
sentence or not. Because I didn’t know if I
could
be rescued. I knew an effort
would be made. I knew the plan and I knew the players. But nothing
is ever really certain in games like this. Generals die, kingdoms
fall, governments collapse. And all without a sound. The tendrils
of the enemy go very deep. And if you cannot see him, you cannot be
certain you've beaten him."

Calvin considered that for a moment, a
very interesting response. Though perhaps a bit overly poetic. It
showed that Raidan, at least, saw his actions as heroic.

"So what is Class One
Cargo?"

"You know the old expression, seeing
is believing?"

"Yes."

"Well, you'll have trouble
believing what I'm going to tell you unless I show you." Raidan
smiled mysteriously then ordered Tristan to "bring in the
special
guest."

While they waited for
Tristan's return, Calvin speculated who this mysterious guest was
and what link he or she had to the "Class One Cargo."
Whatever
it
was.

The door opened, and Calvin swiveled
his chair to see two heavily armed soldiers step in, followed by
Tristan, who was forcibly escorting a man in handcuffs.

The prisoner's face couldn't be seen,
since his head was bowed and his hair long, but he seemed
middle-aged and rather thin. Hardly a match for an escort
consisting of two stocky marines and an athletic
werewolf.

"Show your face, coward,"
said Raidan. And Calvin watched the prisoner slowly raise his head
and shake his hair out of his eyes to reveal
Raidan's face
.

Calvin did a double
take,
What!?Another Raidan?
Aside from his longer hair and thinner physique,
he looked in every way the same person.

"A twin," said Calvin.

"I have no siblings."

And Calvin knew from his investigation
of Raidan that was true—or at least that's what had been recorded
in all the databases referencing him.

"Cosmetic surgery?" Calvin
guessed.

"We've ruled that out after thorough
medical inspection."

"A clone?"

"Not possible," said Raidan. "First
because it would be too impractical, since they would've had to
take my DNA near the time when I was born—accelerated aging isn't
the answer either, or else his age would only match mine for a
brief window of time.

"Secondly, this imposter's DNA does
not match mine. In fact, it's so profoundly different that he
shouldn't look anything like me, and yet he does."

"Very strange," said Calvin. Now
wondering which Raidan was the real Raidan.

"Perhaps he's a very close
look-alike," said Calvin. But, even though it made the most sense,
it didn't seem right. This Raidan copy seemed too perfect. The
sameness was incredible. Identical imperfections and blemishes in
all the same places, regardless of how minute.

"It's not just a random look-alike,"
Raidan said.

The imprisoned Raidan spoke
up. "Don't believe him. I'm the
real
Raidan." He was silenced by a
rap on the head from Tristan.

Calvin turned to face the original
Raidan who still sat at his desk, now shaking his head.

"How do I know he
isn't
the real Raidan?"
asked Calvin.

"Had this one been ready and deployed
before The Organization got its hands on him, it might be much
harder to tell. But as it is, this one was never really ready to be
me. He doesn't know enough about me to actually replace
me."

"Organization?"

"It's my amnesia!" the imprisoned
Raidan said.

The original Raidan laughed. "I know
my life backwards and forwards, I lived it. He doesn't have a clue.
He doesn't know anything beyond my name, rank, and place of birth.
When I went to Antiva and fought in that nineteen-day action during
the Great War, he has no memory of that. He doesn't know what it
was like."

"I do know. I do remember," the
imprisoned Raidan said.

"I was never at Antiva," the original
Raidan said. His eyes met Calvin's. "You see what I mean? He's
desperate to get out of confinement and complete his mission, he'll
say or do anything. But he isn't me. Not even close. Surely you
must have studied my background enough, over the course of your
investigation, to get a sense of who I am. Ask us anything, I'm
sure you'll be satisfied."

Calvin had studied a lot, and it was
true Raidan had never served a combat mission in Antiva. But what
concerned Calvin was that his only facts, everything he knew about
Raidan, came from what was officially on record, and could have
been modified to say anything. Not likely the case, but it wasn’t
impossible either.

So, just to be sure. "You," he pointed
to the imprisoned Raidan. "Name your primary crew on your last
ship," he was certain the real Raidan would know his own crew, and
though the question was basic enough both might know the answer, he
figured it was a good starting point.

"I don't remember, you have to believe
me!" the imprisoned Raidan said. "It was a head injury. I don't
remember anything!"

If only I had a q for
every time I've heard a prisoner plea amnesia...

Calvin turned to the original Raidan
who still sat smugly behind his desk.

"My XO was Summers Presley. Impeccable
posture, exquisite hair, and a captivating smile. Intelligent,
competent, all-business, and completely dependable. My helmsman was
Joshua Van Davin, dark hair, boyish smile, mid-thirties. Has a scar
on his head from a childhood surgery."

Calvin cut him off. "I've heard
enough. I'm convinced." And he was convinced. There was still a
small part of him that wondered if he were wrong, and there
probably always would be, but given the circumstances, only a fool
would see it the other way. There was a fine line between being a
good investigator and a suspicious moron. Like so many people kept
reminding him, sometimes a cigar really is just a cigar.

"You may take him away, you three,"
said Raidan, waving off Tristan and the others. They complied and
left Calvin and Raidan alone once more.

"If I hadn't seen it for myself, I
wouldn't believe it."

Raidan nodded. "I told you so.
Impressive isn't it? However they did it. Wherever they found him.
However they built him. Whatever they did, they got their hands on
a very convincing looking version of me. And if the imposter had
had more time, and had studied my life and habits in enormous
detail, they just may have passed him off as the real me. And
replaced me altogether. And then they'd have another warship in
their pocket and no one would be the wiser."

"So who could do this?" asked Calvin.
Almost anyone could have motive to take control of a ship. But
means was another story. Coming up with an authentic looking Raidan
and aiming to switch them—that implied serious
resources.

"Someone powerful," said Raidan.
"Someone who has to be stopped."

"And that's where you come in? You're
the one stopping it, him, her, whatever."

"A duplicate person, like the one you
just saw, is Class One Cargo. We call them replicants. The
Organization doesn't know where they come from, or how many there
are, or who's controlling them exactly, just that they are slowly
surfacing. And we've caught a few."

"I see," said Calvin, putting the
pieces together as best he could. "You stopped being the dutiful
Imperial captain the minute you came face-to-face with this other
you. And that was proof enough for you to join some kind of fight
against them."

Raidan's eyes lit up but his words
remained calm. "I still am a dutiful Imperial captain, I never
stopped. The decision I made to destroy those Rotham ships, and
steal the Harbinger, was for the good of the Empire. If I hadn't,
then several people would now be replaced. Hauled off to some
prison, executed maybe, tortured, god knows what, and without hope,
because no one would even notice. Because some imposters would've
taken over their lives."

"Who would have been
replaced?"

"Important people."

"Give me names, Raidan."

"I don't know their names," he said.
"I just know what was on those ships, and where it was headed.
Class One Cargo headed for Capital World. That is what The
Organization told me. And that is why I acted. Someone had to. And
I was the only one who could."

"And you gave up everything to make
that one move?"

"If that's what it took," said Raidan.
"I was ready to die for it. But as it turned out, I'm still
valuable. Maybe more than ever."

"Indeed," said Calvin, still
wondering how Raidan acquired such a powerful ship. "So what is
this
Organization
you're working for?"

"All you had to do was ask," Raidan
gave a wan smile."The Organization is a network of
patriots."

"What kind of network? And how many
patriots?"

Raidan smiled as if to
say,
Wouldn't you like to know?
Then he spoke. "We're connected well enough. We
have people in every Imperial system and people on
a few
others. A little
bit of money. A few ships. Enough to know there's a problem, but
maybe not enough to stop it."

"How did your order get
founded?"

Raidan shrugged. "There's an answer of
course. But I don't have it."

"How old is this
Organization?"

"It's hard to say."

Calvin knew that Raidan wouldn't go
into specific details if he didn't want to. And, when dealing with
his kind, pressuring him for more answers would only result in
fewer. Calvin remained patient.

"I was recruited into The Organization
awhile back. Years ago. But I wasn't an easy convert. I didn't
believe them, you see, that there was a danger. That the Empire was
no longer as perfect as I’d always assumed. I didn't want to
listen, but they were very... persuasive."

"They bought you?"

Raidan frowned. "No, of
course not. Not persuasive then.
Convincing
. They showed me proof.
Just like I showed you proof a few minutes ago. It's hard to keep
thinking your world makes sense when you see your face on somebody
else's body."

"So it’s like I guessed, The
Organization showed you the fake Raidan, and that is why you joined
them?"

"The fake Raidan was the moment when I
knew I had to open my eyes. And, once I did, the signs were
everywhere. Little things. But all of them wrong."

"Like what?"

"Changes in behavior. Orders that
didn't quite make sense. Captains I've known for years developing
small... eccentricities."

"You think they were replaced by
replicants?" Calvin sat forward. "And you found out about the fake
you before it was too late, making the threat personal."

"Not so much personal,"
Raidan clarified. "Yes, I'm going to protect myself. And that means
siding with The Organization. But, much more importantly, I'm going
to protect the Empire. If someone is powerful enough to find or...
construct these
things
, and use them to take over our navy ships, invisibly, then
what does that say about our future?"

"So if they showed you the
replicant-you years ago, why is he on this ship now?"

"As a chilling reminder of why I do
what I do."

Calvin didn't bother to ask how he got
aboard the Harbinger specifically. Raidan could have easily picked
him up at any point since he seized the ship. Instead he asked a
different question.

"How did you know the fake you wasn't
the only replicant?"

"I've seen others since."

"And how do you know, now, that The
Organization isn't the one who produced the fake you, in order to
win you over?"