Chapter Twenty-eight

  Clone Colony

  Harry OpDyke had every screen on the wall of his office filled with things other than the spacecraft and that Bakman had not expected. Turning his old pale face toward the door Harry smiles a greeting.

  "What's up Harry," Bakman asks as he walks through the door staring at screens.

  "Odds and ends."

  "Feeling better . . . are we?"

  "Yes. Thought I would get back to work. The Bakman Report buzz has faded and so have West Club jokes. It's time to wipe all that out with something else. Cloning is the dirty little secret no one talks about. At first, they rounded up clones and terminated them. A nice way to say executed . . . killed . . . murdered by the state. Slowly public opinion turned against that and they couldn’t execute them. Next, the clone problem was to be solved by sending them off to Lunar and Mars Colonies. In the colonies clones were assigned all the high risk jobs and none lasted very long. Now, a high percentage of the public thinks that is wrong too. I'm going to move them to a new discussion level."

  "What you going to do? Marry a clone, or raid a clone detention area, or set up clone lab demonstrations on the Thirteen Causeway, or maybe sponsor a clone beauty contest. Harry, is it going to be crazy?"

  "Crazy … Maybe? I'm going to start a Clone Colony here on earth."

  "They will never let you get away with that!"

  "Why not? Clone detentions cost them at least 9.4 billion a year. If you don’t consider the local police expense of rounding them up, trial, transport, and clone crime costs. All the local units and the U.N. have some under lock and key. They cannot turn them loose, can’t send them all to Mars or the Moon, and have to pay to keep them locked up for life. The problem only grows more expensive for they pick up new ones daily in raids, crime sweeps, or discoveries. Governments at all levels is forced to rent space, buy food, buy clothes, pay for health and dental care, and pay guards to watch them sit around and do nothing, and grow old and die. Clone costs get higher every day and eats at their budgets."

  "Put that way they might like to get rid of them."

  "I've got two completely empty buildings, twenty-three and twenty-five stories, sitting next to each other in Idaho City. I'll donate the buildings to a Great Basin Clone Colony. To make sure no government money has to be spent on them I've set up a twenty billion-dollar foundation for them at three percent. I'll deed over to them my South Pass Wind Farm. Twenty-four hundred acres on the continental divide quietly sitting there making electric power, earning money every windy day, and at that altitude the wind seldom is still. The electric power would be theirs to sell. However, none of that will matter unless governments are involved. It would not change clones to a legal status, but it would be like an old Indian reservation for clones. Only this reservation will not cost them. Instead, one percent of all its earnings would go to the local Great Basin Government and another two percent to the United Nations for ten years. After that the Clone Colony pays regular taxes. The more money the clones make, the more they both make. Clones would go from an expense to a small moneymaker. They won't say no. If governments, a local unit and U.N., give them a contract other businesses will too. After that they will in ten years generate normal tax revenue."

  "You've worked on this for a long time too, Harry."

  "A while . . . I've got Wray trying to get hold of Lamborn Fam."

  "I heard of him," Bakman acknowledges. "Fam was on the U.N. Council from New Appalachia. His mother died. In her computer records was a receipt for payments made for a clone—a son? They grabbed him and it was on all the Screens for weeks. He's being held in a detention center somewhere."

  While Bakman tried to remember where Lamborn Fam was, silence fills the room. After a silent moment Duffy shakes his head over his failure.

  “You don't just call up someone in a detention center without greasing a few wheels."

  "I've used your man Traud with some money and a few of my disks," Harry chuckles.

  One of the screens flashed on with Wray's face. "Lamborn Fam, Sir."

  Quickly, the screen goes blank and pops on again with the lined and wrinkled face of an old man with long white hair down around his shoulders wearing a bright orange tunic with two-inch wide green stripes of a U.N. prisoner. The old face speaks strongly and clearly, "How may I help you, Mister OpDyke?"

  "Lamborn Fam?"

  "Yes."

  "Harry OpDyke here. Call me Harry."

  "Yes, Harry."

  "I need a man to head up a venture I'm starting. Interested?"

  Lamborn laughs, “Why not! If the guards don't mind . . . Why should I."

  "Lamborn, I'm an old man and before I go I want to start a foundation to help clones. I want you to head that foundation."

  The old lined face on the screen first pales in shock and confusion before changing to an excited flush. After a long moment to adjust to a new idea Lamborn is finally able to ask, "What's it called?"

  "The Great Basin Clone Colony."

  "Where?"

  "Idaho City. Not a pleasant place . . . it has a miserable climate—hot dry summers and cold snowy winters."

  "Any place away from here sounds like heaven to me."

  "No one has agreed to anything yet. Together, we might get them to do it. I remember reading about old Indian reservations centuries ago. This would be a reservation for clones. You and your people would have to agree not to leave except as volunteers to off-world clone colony placements and assignment, such as on Mars or the Moon, if and when our government starts clone colonies on them. Would you and other clones agree to that?"

  The face on the screen looks thoughtful for a long moment before replying, "Yes, I think they would. It would be so much better to be in one place than a few scattered all over."

  "I've sent you some paperwork. Ask the guard for it," Harry tells Lamborn.

  The face in the screen leaves; they can hear some faint talking in the distance. They cannot make out words. In a minute, Lamborn’s old face returns to the screen lifting a folder of papers to show Harry.

  "You have in your hands the deed to two buildings in Idaho City. I've emptied them for the new clone colony. The second deed is to a South Pass Wind Farm to make electric power for sale, and the third group of papers is information about a twenty billion dollar foundation that will send your colony a three percent interest check. A partial payment will arrive every quarter. The last piece of paper is my appointing you, leader of the colony for ten years. After that, you will guarantee a representative government will be formed that the U.N. and local government unit approve of. When you put your signature below mine I get it started. Ask the guard for a photo-light pen. You can see that I've already signed the documents. If you agree to this, sign all the papers, and give them back to the guard. I'll call the U.N. and get things started at this end."

  "I agree gladly. Harry, every clone on the planet will remember you forever."

  "Good. We're agreed then. This man next to me is Bakman, Duffy Bakman. If I die before we get the colony started, Bakman will see that it is completed. I'll get back to you or send updates. Harry, out."

  "Lamborn Fam out."

  The screen went blank for a moment and Wray's face popped on the screen to say, "I'll get Omenosova at the U.N." And again the screen blanked out.

  In less than a minute the face of Omenosova came on asking, "How my I help you today, Harry."

  "I'm establishing a foundation for a Clone Colony."

  Omenosova’s face frowned while asking, "Where Harry?"

  "Great Basin … Idaho City."

  "Neither the U.N. nor the Great Basin government will agree to that."

  "Maybe you should hear about the idea first."

  "All right, Harry. I guess we owe you that much," and the face of Omenosova takes on a blank if I have too look.

  "I will donate two buildings in Idaho City, twenty-three and twenty-five stories standing next to each other. At present, all the local units of government and
the U.N. have to pay to gather and detained clones. The total costs for all units to control the clone problem last year was 9.4 billion, if you don’t count local crime loses or police costs. Next year it will be higher with no end in sight. A colony would eliminate that expense. I would establish a foundational trust of twenty billion and they would get a quarterly three percent interest payment. Also, I plan to deed the two buildings to them along with my South Pass Wind Farm. The farm has twenty-four hundred acres on the continental divide generating electric power that they can sell. No government would have to spend any money, but still would have control. If your people wonder about all this, have them look back at the old United States Indian Reservations for a legal precedent. Each clone would promise in writing not to leave the colony without permission from both the Great Basin and the U.N. They would also promise to allow the government to select volunteers for off-world Clone Colonies such as on Mars or the Moon. My gifts will allow me to appoint Lamborn Fam the leader of the colony for ten years, and after that time a representative government acceptable to both the Great Basin and the U.N. would be established."

  Omenosova's face on the screen takes on a puzzled look before he finally speaks. "Harry, I can't promise anything. I can't see any problems, but you always have conditions. What are they, Harry?"

  Harry laughs, "I have one and only one. The U.N. and the Great Basic each give the colony a contract to assemble or make some kind of technical equipment, not a whole contract, but half of a low bid contract. They will do half of this first contract for five percent below any low bid cost. I want in writing a guarantee during the first ten years that they have at least two of these types of contracts from each government and I release the money, the land, and the buildings. Ten days after that both your people and the Great Basin can administer oaths and give amnesty for all past crimes to each signing clone."

  Harry paused a moment to rest before starting again, "Oh, I almost forgot. The Clone Colony will send a check for one percent of its quarterly income to the Great Basin and two percent to the U.N. That will be their only tax for the first ten years. After that, the colony will generate normal tax revenue. The deal has an extra one billion start up fund for the clones and one billion cash donation each to the local unit and U.N. to repay all costs of transferring clones to the Clone Colony. As a selling point explain that clones today cannot go out and work. They have nowhere to go but into a life of crime. Some clones, and I believe almost all, will leave the criminal world for the Clone Colony. Clones that take the oath, I repeat, will receive amnesty for all past legal problems. It might, and I believe it will, reduce world wide crime considerably."

  Omenosova laughs, "Harry, no one else on the planet can make a condition that can't be refused. If I can't sell this idea, I'd be a poor salesman. It should be easier than it was to sell the first refrigerators to Eskimo’s to keep their fish warm. Have you talked to Lamborn? I haven't spoken to him for years. Where is he by the way?"

  Harry pushes a finger at the panel and that information appears on the screen.

  "Thanks Harry, Omenosova out."

  "Duncan Bakman here will see it finished if I'm not able to. Harry out."

  The screen goes blank and Bakman asks Harry a thoughtful question. "Why Harry?"

  Harry looked at Bakman for a long moment, his old eyes water and struggles to gets his emotions under control before he speaks softly. "Duffy, my girl is a Clone. Mary and I couldn't have any children. A police raid stopped Mary from getting a clone. I rescued that day’s clone gather. I rescued our clone baby, and I took the child home to hide it for a while. When Mary saw that baby, she loved it. Mary named her Dee after her middle name Dae. For a while we even had a clone boy in the house. All her days from that first rescue, Mary looked after Dee and our boy the best she could. Clones were illegal. We couldn't adopt them. We couldn't bring either home until just lately. You've married my little girl. When this mess blows up, where on this earth can she and my half-clone grandchildren live? In truth the Clone Colony was really Mary's idea. Slowly and carefully she helped me put aside money, twenty-three billion, in a special fund years ago; but the time wasn't right until now. Now, go on with you and leave an old man with his memories."

  Bakman still had a shocked look on his face when Harry stopped talking and motioned him away. Still filled with emotional confusion, Bakman turned and walked out. Outside in the outer office, Bakman stopped as a thought blazed through his mind.

  Harry will still be looking after his little girl that little clone his wife named Dee and his grandchildren even after his death. I wonder what happened to Harry’s boy.