Well . . . Illuyank was going Colonyside. Murdoch would see to things there.

“We’ll need replacements, lots of them,” Illuyank persisted.

“I expect us to be stronger because of this testing “ Lewis said.

Lewis diverted Illuyank then by ordering a complete inspection of the Redoubt—every corner, every bay, no space missed—chlorine and/or fire everywhere. They moved slowly through the passages and across the open areas, their progress marked by the hissing flames of the gushguns and great splashing washes of chlorine. Lewis ordered a final purging with chlorine gas, opening all valves, all hatches within the Redoubt. They then made another inspection with sensor eyes.

Clean. When it was finished, they pumped the chlorine residue onto the surrounding ground, following it by waves of gas which swept around the rocks and hillocks where the clones had huddled when he had ordered them thrust from the safety of the Redoubt.

Inevitably, some of the chlorine spilled over the cliff into the sea. It ignited a violent, churning retreat by the hallucinogenic kelp in the cove. A pack of hylighters came to the excitement. They floated at a safe distance over the surrounding hills, spectators, while Lewis and his meager force sterilized the area around the Redoubt.

Later, Lewis went grinding out of a lock in an armored vehicle to direct the outside sterilizing team, taking Illuyank as his driver. At one point, Lewis ordered Illuyank to stop and shut down while they studied the arc of hylighters in the distance. It was a scene framed by the thick barrier of plazglass in the crawler. The giant orange bags floated in disconcerting silence, anchored by long black tendrils twining in the rocks of the hills. They were a perimeter of mystery about three kilometers distant and they filled Lewis with angry fear.

“We’ll have to eliminate those damned things!” he said. “They’re floating bombs!”

“And maybe more,” Illuyank said.

One of the surviving clones took this moment to drop his chlorine backpack. The clone turned to face the arc of hylighters, spread his stumpy arms wide and called out in a voice heard through the area: “Avata! Avata! Avata!”

“Get that damned fool out of here and into confinement!” Lewis ordered. Illuyank relayed the order over their vehicle’s external speakers. Two supervisors scrambled to obey.

Lewis watched in grumbling impatience. Avata—that had been the other cry of the clone revolt. Avata, and, We’re hungry now!

If the particular clone out there had not been one of the precious new ones with the genetic mix, Lewis knew he would have ordered the stupid creature killed immediately.