World War (The ReLife Project Book 2)

Book summary

In "World War," the winds of war engulf Europe as the sinister Phoenvartis cloning company unleashes a campaign of brutality and domination. A daring band of rebels seizes control of their cloning technology with a plan to resurrect a 20th-century madman. Meanwhile, a cloned Founding Father and a group of ex-Phoenvartis workers escape to the jungles of Vietnam, where they unite freedom-seeking patriots worldwide. As the battle for democracy rages on, the question looms: can goodness prevail over fascism, or will a devastating plague be unleashed upon humanity?

Excerpt from World War

Two nights later an elderly gentleman dressed in doctors’ whites walked into Saint Peter's Hospital. Hanging from around his neck and dangling from his smock were the pieces of equipment used by legitimate doctors. In his right hand, he carried a halo folder which hospitals used to track a patient's treatment and prognosis. This folder was a fake prop. It had an empty center made to hide a variety of electrical and electronic parts and implements. Sound abatement foam was used to make sure the autodriver, wire stripper, and insta-connect taps made no noise as he walked.

He maneuvered through the hospital corridors smiling and acknowledging the hospital staff. For a moment, he considered going into the hospital cafeteria to grab a bite to eat but decided his mission was too important to delay it any longer. He delighted in his ability to mislead the hospital staff into believing he was part of their ranks. They were nothing more than lemmings who believed anything if you looked like one of them and had a pleasant smile and personality.

The smile on his face and jovial mood were a masquerade for how he really felt about this facility. The fact that it was named after a religious has-been from over two thousand years before was bad enough. But he boiled on the inside thinking about how St. Peter's catered to the wealthy in and around the Zurich Free Zone. If he had his way, he would make this facility a ‘People's Hospital’, open to anyone regardless of position, wealth or status.

The mere fact that the wealthy could buy better medical treatment than the poor drove him crazy with rage. A rage which began to burn as a child growing up in extreme poverty. Begging in the streets for handouts and sleeping in garbage dumps for safety was enough to fester his hatred for the wealthy. There was no such thing as medical care for his kind. It was either survive or die. His childhood prepared him well for the ‘Equal Need, Equal Provide’ society promised by the World Council.

It was only in the four Free Zones that such discrimination and intolerance existed. Everywhere else in the world, People Hospitals were used by everyone, free of charge. It didn't matter that the mortality rates, efficiency, and cleanliness of People Hospitals were substandard compared to Zone hospitals. The only thing which mattered to Slice was that all citizens were treated the same. Everyone got the same marginal treatment from underpaid and under-trained doctors and nurses. If there were a few flaws in the socialistic medical system, so be it. The Zone medical facilities weren't perfect, either. He believed that the socialistic system would eventually win out and deliver excellent care for all citizens.

Slice found Klaus's room in the burn treatment wing of the hospital. He walked in without a skeptical stare or question asked by the nurses on duty. Slice estimated the average age of the staff to be in their thirties. Those who weren't playing grab-ass with each other were either playing halo reality games or communicating with friends and lovers around the world. They were much too busy having fun to assist or question an old fuddy-duddy doctor walking the halls. From Slice's point of view, here was another example of why Free Zones with their for-profit institutions were out of control. They needed to be put under the firm leadership of the appropriate division of the World Council.

There was one advantage to having Klaus in a Zone hospital versus a People's Hospital. Klaus was a well-known celebrity and wealthy enough to rate a private room. People’s Hospitals didn’t offer such lavish accommodations. A private room would allow Slice to carry out his mission without witnesses or interruption from the hospital staff.

Slice walked over to the motionless DACS suit and peered into the eye holes. Staring back at him from within were two half-opened eyes which grew to full size when Klaus recognized his visitor. If it wasn't for Klaus's name embossed on the DACS suit, those eyes could have belonged to anyone.

"Mr. Ekstrom, how nice to see you again." Slice laughed at his own witty remark about being able to identify a normal, complete human within the DACS suit. " I know you must be in a lot of pain, but there are a couple of things I must know. And you’re the only person who can help me. Do you understand?"

Slice thought he heard a whisper of a grunt, which he took to be a confirmation from Ekstrom.

"Good, good. Klaus, you haven't heard yet, but the clone Mr. Sweats and his band of renegade scientists made the other day wasn't correct. The host samples I sent to you for cloning were for a woman. Sweats' clone was a man. Do you see the problem, Mr. Ekstrom?"

Slice waited for some type of response, but nothing came.

"Mr. Ekstrom, to summarize, I'm not happy with what came out of the CR47 the other day. In fact, I'm damn pissed that my directions weren't followed. Do you know who I blame for this screw-up?" Slice didn't wait for Klaus to respond. "I blame you, Mr. Ekstrom. You’re the damn CEO of Phoenvartis. You were given the World Council host samples and you failed to get them cloned." Slice paused so his accusations could sink into Klaus's brain.

‘Shit, shit, shit,’ Klaus thought to himself. ‘That goddamn Rollie Sweats has screwed me over again. If I ever get out of this straight jacket, I'll kill that son of a bitch.’

"Mr. Ekstrom, where are my host samples? I need those samples. Where are they?"

Klaus was in fear for what remained of his life. He didn't know why, considering he felt dead already, but it was probably the fear of the unknown. This man not only represented the World Council, he positively reeked of evil. Being in the same room with him made Klaus shiver in fear, considering the different types of torture Slice might inflict to get what he wanted.

Klaus tried to speak, but nothing came out. Maybe there wasn't enough air in his lungs to make a sound, or perhaps his mind was too focused on the monster staring at him to remember how to talk. He did the only thing he could think of which was to raise his fingers as he’d done when answering the investigator's questions.

Slice waited for a response, but the only activity from the DACS suit was Klaus moving his fingers. Slice took that to be nervousness, or some type of involuntary motor reaction resulting from his severe injuries.

"I see you aren't going to be cooperative, Mr. Ekstrom. I'll have to help you be a better team player." Slice opened the halo folder and removed the tools. He jerry-rigged the DACS suit so the shell could be opened without causing an alarm to sound at the nurses' station. He also disabled the alarms on the three devices monitoring Klaus's vital signs.

"Okay, that should be good. Now, let me see. How exactly does this thing open up?"

As Slice tinkered with the DACS suit searching for the correct way to open it, Klaus was frantically moving his fingers up and down. Even though the suit maintained a temperature in the low seventies, beads of sweat broke out on Klaus's forehead and ran down into his eyes.

"Ah, yes. Here we go. It opens like a Mellow Yellow container."

The upper half of the DACS shell lifted open. The opiate-based, pain relief gas created a white plume when it mixed with the air in the room and then dissipated. The cooling and healing drugs being delivered to the victim's mangled body automatically shut off.

"Good God almighty. You’re a mess, Mr. Ekstrom." Slice loved making light of a Creator he knew was both a fraud and a curse on humanity.

"Would you looky here. Klaus, did you know your unit is gone? You have no weenie. There's only a catheter sticking in your crotch. Looks like you won't be having anymore kinky sex with women like that slut, Sophia."

Klaus tried with all his might to lift himself and look for his penis. It was hopeless. The only things he could move were his fingers and sometimes he could roll his hand over and back. Was the devil Slice lying or telling the truth about his sex organ being gone? The doctors hadn't said anything, but then again, they hadn't told him much about his condition.

The remaining molecules from the pain relief gas were being absorbed into Klaus's body. Soon, the opiates would wear off and no longer mask the pain raging throughout his body. Only five more minutes before the pain began and then intensified to intolerable levels.

"Klaus, do you realize how many skin-grafts you'll need? There's hardly any skin left on your body. On the bright side, there's a way to grow skin cells without grafting tissue from your ass to the front side of your body. That's probably where the term ‘pain-in-the-ass’ came from."

Slice chuckled at his witty remark. He was enjoying himself and didn't mind using any devious leverage he could to get his host samples back.

"Klaus, I wish you could see yourself. Wait, wait, there's a mirror over here. Let me get it so you can take a good look at yourself."

Slice removed the hand-held mirror from the nurse's station and held it about twelve inches above Klaus's face.

It took a few seconds for Klaus's eyes to adjust to the mirror's reflection. When his eyes focused, all he could see was a mass of red pulp. The only distinguishable facial feature were two eyes. Where his nose, eyelids, and lips used to be, were pieces of bloody, scabbed-over meat. Slice had to be pulling a prank. A person's face couldn't just disappear. To prove this was a sick joke by an evil person, Klaus mustered enough energy to stick his tongue out. He didn't expect to see his tongue in the reflection.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God". There was his tongue, slowly sneaking out from between two pieces of meat. Slice wasn't lying. His face was a slab of meat with two eyes and an empty cavity where his nose used to be.

Thoughts of killing himself or asking to be killed raced through his mind. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life looking like a freak. What would he do, where would he go? Who would want to be around him? There was no use trying to kid himself – he had nothing to live for.

Slice could see the desperation in Klaus's eyes. He knew his life was worthless and Slice had him exactly where he wanted. It was time to add a little hope to this pathetic situation.

"Klaus, things aren't so bad. Did you know the World Council has its own medical staff? They have the best surgeons and specialists in the world. The elite of the elite. I've seen them put people back together who were much worse off than you. In fact, a couple of years ago, I saw them reconstruct a guy's face was after he’d been attacked by a grizzly bear. They did such a fantastic job, this guy looked better with his new face than the old one. As far as missing limbs, that's not a problem for our doctors either. They can take a body part from a corpse and attach it to another person's body and make it fully functional. These guys are magicians. They can do anything. Your case would be child's play for them."

Slice waited for this ray of hope to sink into Klaus's brain before continuing. "Klaus, isn't it nice to know you could look normal and have a third leg again to piss through and use for entertainment? All you need to do is cooperate and help me find the World Council samples. As soon as I have them, you'll be on your way to England to be put back together by the Council's medical staff. Doesn't that sound like a fair deal? You help me, and I'll help you."

Fair or not, Klaus wanted to live. He wanted to be healed and go back to living. He could imagine the day when he returned to his job at Phoenvartis. And getting a new face and a penis might be a great deal. There was no reason to live the rest of his days as an average looking guy with an undersized pecker. It would be exciting to be a new man with a chiseled, handsome face and a large unit.

His hopes of being normal again faded when he realized he had nothing of value to tell Slice. He didn't know what Rollie had done with the samples. If he could talk, he could try bargaining with Slice. Or lead him on so he believed the safe return of the samples was dependent on Klaus’ survival. But in his present condition, he wasn't physically capable of bargaining with anyone for anything. He needed to think of a workable ploy and do it fast. The pain was increasing, and it wouldn't be long before it was so excruciating, he wouldn't be able to think.