Indentured Read online

  “As Foxtrot so graciously demonstrated, there are immediate repercussions for any transgressions on your parts. I will explain all of this, but for the next half-hour, I would like you to just be obedient to one order of instruction – NO questions from you until I am completed,” Alpha stated, “I guess your most pertinent question is, where am I and how did I get here?”

  Declan examined his chest muscle and his rigid abs while Alpha started to explain. As an instructor of Martial Arts, he had always maintained a fit body, but nothing quite like this.

  “Each and every one of you probably had the exact same memory before showing up here. You were most likely getting what was referred to as an MRI in the 21st century – a detailed scan of your brain,” he stated, finally receiving Declan’s undivided attention, “This detailed scan of your brain was saved, for all intents and purposes, in a digital format either on the hard drive of a computer or on a disc of some fashion. Whatever the method, this is not important. Here is what’s important. It’s pertinent that for the next few days, you remember this fact more than anything else: Each and every one of you lived out your full lives at some point in the 21st century. Now, how long did you live after that MRI? I don’t know and I don’t care,

  “Maybe you died the next day or maybe you lived to be a hundred. The point is, even though you won’t remember, you did live your full share of life and anything beyond this ‘full share’ doesn’t belong to you. The life you are living today – the life beyond your full share – belongs to the United Scientist Space Command. You belong to the USSC and you no longer have ownership over your life.”

  The room erupted in angry gasps, shouted questions, and demands for answers. One of these clones even rose from his seat in a threatening manner, but was immediately brought down by some invisible weapon. As he writhed on the floor screaming in pain, the room quickly quieted down.

  “Give me time to explain,” Alpha commanded, “Is it worth these painful consequences to keep testing the USSC? Foxtrot knows what it’s like and now Tango joins our lovely electrocution club. Actually, come to think of it… Foxtrot, how about coming up here so I can demonstrate something?”

  Everyone looked around, wondering whom Alpha was referring to. The man on the floor stopped squirming, but didn’t seem to be in a hurry to return to his seat. Alpha sighed in exasperation, then pointed to Declan.

  “You - get up here,” Alpha waited for Declan to join him, then grasped his forearm and physically turned him to face the room, “Does this guy look familiar to you? That’s because you are all identical. The women are identical to each other also. The USSC created these bodies for you and these bodies are created perfectly to make adapting to your new jobs very easy for you. It’s time to show some respect for this second chance that you’ve been given.”

  Alpha turned to Declan and slapped him in the face. Declan only responded with a glare, knowing that a physical response would only reveal the edge that he believed he had over Alpha. Alpha slapped Declan again, but harder this time. Now Declan figured that he was being used as an example. Maybe he wanted Declan to speak or perhaps to cry out.

  “In the year 2078, Dr. CJ Satterfield discovered that you could take a fetus in the beginning of the third trimester and imprint an MRI scan into its virginal brain, thus imprinting the mature identity of someone else entirely,” Alpha stated, slapping Declan even harder, “It was beautiful. It was nothing less than eternal life. It started out as a way for the rich to get to live forever, but the Final War changed all of this. It turned what was originally a luxury item into a way to make smarter, stronger soldiers. I mean, imagine taking a military lifer like perhaps a retired Brigadier General and imprinting him into a child. Think of the wisdom and power this young soldier could offer the next generation.”

  Declan turned away from Alpha; disgusted suddenly with everything he was seeing and hearing. Alpha leapt onto his back and caught him in a chokehold.

  “If you want to demonstrate your masochistic weapons of submission, then do it already, you bald heap of crap,” Declan spat, continuing to walk to his seat with the instructor attached to him.

  Alpha released Declan and grabbed him by the arm, attempting to twist him around again.

  “Then hit me,” Alpha stated.

  Declan turned to him and grinned defiantly.

  “The time will come for that, I promise you, but not like this.”

  With that, Declan dropped to the floor, jolted again by whatever weapon had blasted him in the hallway. This time however, he refused to cry out in spite of the horrific pain.

  “This was not unexpected and it still serves my purpose,” Alpha said to the class, waving his hand across the prostrate man on the floor, “You can be angry, bitter, and even rebellious, but no matter what you choose to do to assert your independence, you are the property of USSC.”

  “That’s enough!” a female voice shouted from the back of the class.

  Whatever had been causing Declan’s pain had stopped in that instant. The woman, dressed in a dark blue uniform, walked to the front of the class and took a position behind the lectern. She seemed to command some sort of respect from Alpha because he stepped immediately aside.

  “Alpha – this imposing man beside me – was supposed to explain to you why you are here. Instead, he chose to whip you and beat you into submission. This ‘submission’ is not why you are here,” she stated, waving suddenly toward the door, “I can take over from here, Alpha. I’ll call for you when I’m done.”

  With the assistance of a fellow Indenture, Declan rose from the floor and took his seat. He leaned away from the aisle as Alpha passed, hoping to offer no opportunities for the man to inflict more damage. Alpha quietly left the room without incident. The woman at the front of the class offered an apologetic smile toward Declan, puzzling him for a moment as he tried to get comfortable.

  “My name is Ensign Rowe and I serve as an intermediary between you and the command personnel. Alpha is in charge of you and your day-to-day operations. Basically, he’s your foreman and I am your manager. You’re not slaves, servants, or whatever else Alpha may have led you to believe. You’re…” she paused for a moment to search for the words, “I guess the closest definition would be ‘indentured servants.’ We have our own term for your position, but it would be lost on you since you lack any knowledge of our more recent history. But for us here in this room, we will simply use the word ‘Indentured.’ We brought you back to life in a sense. We gave you powerful and healthy bodies, and all we ask in return is 20 years of service for the USSC.”

  She quickly held up a hand to fend off any questions that she could see were already forthcoming.

  “No, you didn’t volunteer for this and no, you cannot opt out. Alpha most likely told you about the Final War. This war obliterated more than you can imagine in your 21st century minds. We were left with very little, but we kept our intelligence, our ingenuity, and as you’ve probably already guessed, some computer files from the 21st century,

  “We had the technology to imprint the minds of mature, educated, adults into the undeveloped brains of fetus’, but we didn’t have a whole lot of the actual machinery anymore,” she stated, looking purposefully around the room, “You survived the Final War and here you are. Now granted, the bodies you exist in aren’t babies or children, but that’s because those bodies don’t serve the purposes of the USSC. Instead, we grew your bodies in a special womb of sorts, perfecting every detail until the bodies reached an age of approximately twenty. This is where you are today.”

  “Indentured servants? Come on, servants or slaves? It’s all the same,” a clone shouted from the back, “And where the heck are we anyway?”

  “Now please, don’t waste any energy getting riled up just yet. Maybe there’s a language barrier and perhaps I’m not explaining it all perfectly. To answer your question, you are aboard The Pioneer USSC-37. This is a Colonial Establishment Cruiser designed for interstellar exploration and of course colonial
establishment. This is the year 2338 if I’m to use the dating methods you are familiar with, and we are about two weeks out from the Beta Hydri System – approximately 24 light years from Earth.”

  “Are you expecting us to believe-”

  “Take a look at yourselves. Look around you. Do you see anything that makes sense to your primitive minds?” she asked, “Everything I’ve told you is the absolute truth and the sooner you accept this, the sooner we can proceed with your training.”

  Declan raised his hand, immediately receiving a nod from her.

  “Why would you take the minds of 21st century people and implant them into 24th century bodies? If you can clone this,” he gestured to the carbon copy seated next to him, “Why not just start with a fresh mind that can learn and comprehend all this? Why not just implant the MRI scans of your modern day people?”

  “That’s a good question,” she stated, “First, we don’t have time to start with babies; educating them in speech, math, sciences, and the like. We need adults, and although we have the means to create the adult bodies, we don’t have time or the resources to spend creating the adult minds. That’s where you come in. Although you’re not from our era, you are still educated adults in some fashion,

  “Now, to answer your question about modern day people being inserted into these bodies. I won’t go into the details of our 2162 Amended Constitution, but let’s just say that basically our laws protect people who have reached a natural age of at least 70 years, therefore protecting any digital forms of those people. Their scans can be imprinted on new creations, but they cannot be treated as ‘property.’ They cannot become indentured. Because of this, people are naturally less willing permit any MRI scans until they are at least 70 years old. This law basically-”

  “Basically screws the people who weren’t around for the enactment of your stupid laws!” one of the other clones shouted, “What about our rights?”

  With a prolonged blink of her eyes, she calmly raised her hand to stop the outburst.

  “You were raised in a world where you had the rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. You were entitled to those rights and I’m sure you would admit that you were satisfied with these rights. You were denied none of these - NONE. You lived out your full lives with complete liberty to pursue happiness and I imagine you all did so.”

  More than half the class burst forth, knocking down chairs while their shouts intermingled into an unintelligible chorus. Then, as quickly as it started, their shouts became screams of pain, forcing them to the floor in writhing agony. Declan just sat there with his eyes closed trying to digest it all.

  “I’m going to assume that nothing more will be accomplished today, so we’ll continue this tomorrow,” she stated, proceeding toward the door.

  Declan reached out a hand hoping to stop her.

  “You said that Alpha is our foreman and that we have bodies designed for the jobs that… well, that I imagine we will be expected to do for the next 20 years. What are these jobs?”

  The classroom became silent for the most part while many tried to regain their composure. She stared at him for what felt like ten seconds, then returned to the front of the classroom. She cleared her throat and waited until the muttered complaints finally stopped.

  “This ship and others in its class are the first ones sent to any potential life-sustaining planet. Our job,” she gestured toward the classroom, “Your job actually is to establish the initial ground base for the first Colonial Craft which typically arrives within 10 to 15 years. While you might be just a group of 21 people, the next Colonial Craft will be bringing anywhere from 100 to 500 people. These people are going to have an unimaginable workload when they arrive, so we don’t want them having to spend anytime on housing, plumbing, and electricity. That’s where you come in.”

  “We’re going to have to build 500 houses on some untamed planet with no resources whatsoever?” one of the females asked.

  “I’m just a divorce attorney. What skills do I have to offer?” another demanded.

  “A lawyer? I’m Jackrabbit – the drummer for The Crackheads!”

  “Seriously? That’s awesome!” another laughed, “I saw you guys when you played at The Riverfront in Greensboro!”

  “Quiet down, please. Quiet please! QUIET!” Ensign Rowe interrupted, “Believe it or not, I completely understand your lack of self-confidence in such a venture. But you’ve got to understand that the job is not even half as big as you’re probably imagining right now. First of all, our technologies are far superior to the technologies you remember. Second, you are not expected to build 500 individual houses with individual plumbing and electricity. Here’s the generic version,

  “You are not being dropped onto a planet with a bunch of saws, hammers, and whatever other primitive tools you are accustomed to. You will arrive on the planet with five pods or… well, I don’t even know what to compare our pods to. Imagine an average train car from your time. Each pod is equal to about 4 or 5 train cars worth of storage. So, you will arrive on planet with about 20 to 25 train cars of supplies – much of the building supplies being prefabricated in some fashion. Also dropped at the landing zone will be two APCs or All Purpose Construction vehicles and two 4-story building frames which will basically be the steel skeletons of the two housing facilities. Keep in mind that I’m just giving you a small overview. The point is, this will be much less construction work than you are probably imagining.”

  “If we’re taking care of these future colonists, then who is going to be taking care of us?” one of the females asked.

  “That’s a good question, but we’re jumping ahead of schedule. I promise you that all these answers will be forthcoming,” Ensign Rowe replied, aware of the fog of distress that still seemed to be engulfing the class, “But to put your minds at ease, your housing will be built on your first day and you will be completely taken care of. Now please, let’s take this one day at a time and return to today’s venue which includes getting you settled in here, dressed obviously, and introduced to all the facilities at your disposal.”

  . . .

  Whatever that room was where the Indentures had been first introduced to the 24th century; it was apparently not their bedroom. As the Ensign led the group down the lifeless passageways of the ship, she deposited groups of three or four at doors marked with seemingly random letters. When they arrived at the door marked JLS, the ensign segregated the three women from the group and welcomed them to their quarters.

  “What does JLS mean?” one of the ladies asked.

  The ensign pointed to the 2-inch letters printed on the front of each of their boxer shorts. Declan looked down at his own boxers and saw an “F,” while the three women indeed sported a J, an L, and an S on theirs.

  “During any term of Indenture, people forfeit their names and are identified by letters of the phonetic alphabet. The three of you are therefore Juliet, Lima, and Sierra. You’ll also discover that all of your personal items and clothing will be labeled with these identifying letters,” the ensign stated.

  “But my name is-”

  “Your name is Sierra until you finish your Indenture, at which time you can take whatever name you want,” Ensign Rowe interrupted, opening the door and gesturing the three women inside, “You’ll find a uniform spread out on each of your beds. Please get dressed, then come find us in the yellow room.”

  “The yellow room?” Juliet asked.

  “You’ll understand in a bit,” she replied, ending the conversation with an abrupt twist toward the remaining Indentures, “Now, let’s get you guys to your rooms.”

  “Foxtrot,” Declan muttered, “That’s the name Alpha had been using to refer to me. But wait a minute, isn’t ‘Alpha’ also a letter of the phonetic alphabet?”

  “Yes,” the Ensign stated as she led them to another door marked EKMN, “He’s indentured also, but his term of indenture is almost over. He was part of a ten-year program.”

  The remaining Indentures
paused before the door to examine the letters on their boxers, seeking to identify whom the room belonged to.

  “Please tell me that ‘E’ stands for Excellent,” one of them stated as he shuffled into the room.

  “E stands for ‘Echo’ in the phonetic alphabet,” she replied, “Your names are from this day forward; Echo, Kilo, Mike, and November.”

  “Mike? Why does he get to have a normal name?” Echo complained, pointing toward the man with the “M” tattooed on his underwear.

  “If I remember correctly, you said that your name was Jackrabbit before,” she replied with a smirk, “If you ask me, Echo is a much better name for a drummer.”

  She shut down that conversation quickly by closing the door after Kilo slithered into the room. She stared at the door for a moment, then turned back to the remaining Indentures. Wasting not a single moment, she started down the hall, gesturing for the last three guys to follow her. The final doorway at the end of the hall was marked CDF. She opened the door and led the way into their quarters.