The Clone Sedition Read Online Free PDF Page A

was trim because he had good genes and good eating habits, not because of exercise. As far as I could tell, he had no tolerance for pain. It wouldn’t have taken more than a paper cut to bring tears to his eyes. I could not imagine how he would react to a broken bone or a gunshot wound.
    Watson had an easygoing nature. Angry detectives didn’t bother him, neither did angry Marines. I could swear at him, threaten him, call him out of bed, he never took offense.
    When I responded to his question with, “I don’t see where that is any of your business,” he said, “It is, and it isn’t. You killed three civilians. If you want to label the killings as a ‘need-to-know-basis Marine Corps operation,’ then it’s none of my business. If you want to keep on good terms with the local police, you need to give me something.”
    I said, “Drop it.”
    The final lingerings of the lustrous night still hung over the city. Streetlights and headlights and the occasional lit window pierced the darkness, but daylight was only an hour or two away. The air was still cold and wet, but the fog had thinned.
    We walked in silence for a few seconds, then I said, “I came to meet a friend…well, a business associate, a guy named Freeman.”
    “Did he show up for the meeting?”
    “No.”
    “So he wasn’t one of the three guys back there?” Watson confirmed, sounding a little nervous. Maybe he was startingto take my Marine Corps “killing machine” jargon a bit too seriously.
    “No,” I said. “He is not one of the corpses.”
    “Are you sure your friend is safe?” Watson asked. “Maybe we should have the police look for him?”
    Worrying about Ray Freeman’s well-being was like worrying about the welfare of a shark or a missile. “There’s no point involving the locals,” I said. “If Freeman doesn’t want to be found, the last thing you want to do is find him.”
    “Would you like me to contact Naval Intelligence? Maybe they can track him down.”
    I thought about that and smiled. Naval Intelligence had more than its share of smart-ass officers. Assigning a few of them to track down Freeman would send a wake-up call.
    Watson had flown to Fort Lewis on a military jet and driven to Seattle in a staff car. He’d parked the big sedan far enough up the street to give us a chance to talk. As we reached the car, I said, “Freeman will find me when he’s ready.”
    Watson asked, “Do you want me to take you back to Fort Lewis?”
    “Might as well,” I said. “It’s been a long night.”
    I looked back toward the crime scene. The fog had mostly cleared, and an overcast morning had begun. I wanted to end my day, not begin a new one.
    As he climbed into the car, Watson pulled out his LifePad and stared at it for several seconds. Then he said, “There’s a plane waiting at the base to fly you back to Washington, General. Admiral Cutter wants to meet with you.”
    “Do you know what it’s about?” I asked.
    “Apparently, you weren’t the only Marine mugged last night. The admiral thinks this may have been the first shots fired in a civil war.”
    There were 1,723 Marines attacked on the night of January 9, 2519. The Marine Corps lost 108 men and killed over two thousand.
    All things considered, it was a pretty good night.

CHAPTER
TWO
    Location: Washington, D.C.
Date: January 11, 2519
    It was beginning to look like the opening salvo of the war would also be the final shot. The mystery group that attacked so many Marines on January 9 never announced itself. Maybe they were ashamed. They lost almost twenty times as many people as they killed.
    When the police, both military and civilian, found nothing useful, Naval Intelligence took over. Results followed. So did briefings.
    “What do you mean they were from Mars?” I asked the officer from Naval Intelligence.
    “Well…they’re not from Mars. I mean, sir, Mars does not have a native population. They’re New Olympian. The men who attacked you were refugees from