Ramses Meets His Maker

Ramses was a clone. Not a genetically engineered masterpiece of humanity like those grown in the gleaming Huxley genetics labs, Ramses was a literal copy of another human created as part of an illegal immortality experiment. Ramses wasn't sure if he believed in the transhumanist rhetoric of the Huxley Foundation, but he knew it was the only place where a clone could get a fair shot at life.

Ramses was returning to the planet of his "birth" for the first time since he began working for the Foundation. He did not anticipate a warm reception. Worse even than being the illegal clone of a hated warlord he was an agent of the Foundation. This animosity was not unearned; the Huxley Foundation had recently opened the starports of Nibiru by threatening the planet with orbital bombardment. The Nine Kingdoms were forced to capitulate and allow the Foundation to establish a research station in the Nibiru green zone.

This contemptuous show of force meant any number of individuals or organizations might have a reason to kill the missing Foundation scientists for simple petty revenge. Ramses doubted it, though. Someone out for vengeance wouldn't hide the body. They'd put it on display and make sure the Foundation knew in no uncertain terms why they did it. Ramses' detective's instinct told him something deeper was at work here.

The starport was virtually deserted when Ramses arrived on his transport, which stuck around just long enough to refuel. The Foundation could force Nibiru to let in the rest of the universe, but they couldn't force the rest of the universe to care. Use of the starport was the almost exclusive purview of the Huxley Foundation and Ramses was the only new agent they had sent in a standard month.

Ramses' contact met him a few blocks from the starport; he didn't want to be seen going inside what was considered a Foundation building. Samwell was an engineering peasant from the terraformation column. Even the brief meeting with Ramses he had agreed to was a significant risk to the man's safety and he was understandably nervous. He hunched down in his long coat like it was a turtle shell.

Samwell only spoke Nibiru, a nearly unrecognizable dialect of Martian. The fact that Ramses was fluent in the language was a major reason why he had been assigned to this case.

"I have reason to believe the men you're looking for are still alive," said Samwell, in a low whisper, "People are speaking of it openly. They're not worried about being caught by your Foundation."

"Are you saying a group has taken responsibility for the attack?" asked Ramses.

"Not by name, no. People are referring to them as 'patriots'."

That word stood out to Ramses immediately. Nibiru had a number of words synonymous with 'patriot' but Samwell was using the older Martian term. Ramses smelled extraplanetary influence.

"Why do you think they're alive?" asked Ramses "What are people saying?"

"They're saying their deaths will be public. That they will be made an example of."

'Made an example of', another Martian term that a native Nibiru speaker would never use. This man had the accent down pat but he didn't have the vocabulary to fool a native speaker. 'Samwell' wasn't who he claimed to be.

Ramses reached for his weapon. It was a Huxley Survival Pistol, a compact self-charging particle pistol with several non-combat settings that he never used. The particulate matter collected from the atmosphere had less punch than a military-grade particle weapon but Ramses felt that not needing to reload more than made up for this disadvantage.

Ramses was a fast draw but Samwell had been aiming the stun gun hidden under his coat since they began the conversation. The weapon ripped through his coat with a loud pop and the electric discharge overloaded Ramses' nervous system. He collapsed, unconscious.