Gene Drifters: The Clone Soldier Chronicles-Book III by D.J. Takemoto Page B

person to
enter the Kingdom of God .”
    The sermon rarely varied as the WEED had a vast cadre of
clergy who passed through on a never-repeating schedule, using the sermon vids
from the previous visiting cleric because it was easier. The service would be
repeated, with exactly the same format, four times each night, every night, at
every bubble stop, on every haul route, under-water and up top.
    “I hear they do this 24/7 in the worker zones too,” Rose
mumbled from her place under Roxanne’s bench. “Keep it down, Rose. You’re going
to get us chit docked for non-church behavior,” Roxanne warned her co-pilot.
Dogs were not actually required to attend service, but were welcomed if they
behaved. Rose thought that was just insulting, but she remained quiet for the
duration, even during the last rousing, hand-holding send-away song.
    At the completion of the service, the same exam was given…every
time. Roxanne thought she could take it in her sleep. But those interns
anguished over every sermon review question, taking way too much time, and
delaying the start of the next service, much to the chagrin of the next batch
of rig-ryders waiting outside for their turn at redemption.
    “Well, thank god that’s over for another seven days. Let’s
get back to the house. I’m exhausted. We’ve got six hours until work starts
tomorrow.” Roxanne exited the hall, quickly taking the back path to their house,
with Rose close behind. They did not want to run into any horny fellow rig-ryders,
especially an un-forewarned intern. Roxanne had brought her whip, but preferred
to just avoid the situation. That run-in with the pirates had exhausted them
both.
    “I’m ready for sleep. That little pirate encounter wore me
out too, Roxanne.” They crossed through the plasmon lined back alley tunnel, past
the public library archive and 24/7 Dock-in-the-Box medical clinic, while
watching the glowing night fish peer into the bubble viewing portals lining the
plasmon walls. She remembered when she’d first asked Dorian how those walls
worked. As usual, he’d given her the scientific version. “A plasmon wall is
composed of organic plas ma mon omers, Roxanne…hence the term
plasmon. The monomer units can form and break covalent bonds in response to
pressure and oxygen tension. Thus, they expand and contract at the depth of the
tunnel rest-stops, allowing the tunnel inhabitants to go about their lives
without nitrogen bubble issues,” he had explained. Luckily, she had already
passed the advanced finals in MolBio/Plasmon Physic, so she understood most of
his explanation.
    Roxanne and Rose continued walking to the back of the house.
Roxanne had a load of items on her mind that night; check the rig pulse
atomizer, deposit chits into her account, make her yearly medical exam
appointment, get her teeth cleaned. Life was not as simple as when she rode in
the back of her dad’s rig.
    As they turned into the last alley leading to their small
back deck, a newbie came out of nowhere. Rose immediately went into ultra-Dober
mode, peeling back the skin around her mouth to show her entire set of chompers.
It always amazed Roxanne, how Rose could open her mouth that wide. Rose wanted
to take his face off.
    “What do you want, newbie? I say the word, and my co-pilot
will cosmetically rearrange your face.” Roxanne had one hand on her whip, and
the other on Rose’s head. The minute she removed her hand from Rose’s head, the
guy would never look the same, even after regen.
    “Wait, I have a bot-com message for you. Please call off
your dog. I don’t mean any disrespect, Miss Roxanne. My name is Brad Benton. I
have a message for you.”
    Call off your dog? Who was this guy talking about?
    “Talk fast, Brad Benton. It better be good.” Roxanne slid
her hand down to her side, to get a firmer grip on her whip. She’d heard the
line before in a bar in #2. That guy had a whip-slice scar leading from his
chin to just shy of the corner of his right eye.