T*TR 001
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*Edit: Language Code ART 5 Z
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*Edit: Phonemic Representation Section 8, Names
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*Receiver Active
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Government Protection Agency,
Jerusalem Laboratories, Cloning Facility,
Jerusalem II.

"Talk to me, Farac." The voice came booming from deep space, unchallenged by the unfathomable distance it traveled from the Division HQ back home to the outskirts of the Rim, where the experiments were being performed. This transmission was so untraceable, it didn't exist, Farac knew, because that was the guideline of the entire organization: don't bother breathing, because the air doesn't know you're there. He turned a switch.

"Sir, we have completed the work on the JDS." They had. It was finished. They just had to input the final programming.

"Are you sure this time, boy? I don't want another failure on my hands, and neither do you." He hadn't said it yet. 'Remember Jerusalem I, boy.' It had been his mantra in every communication for the last 6 months. Maybe he didn't want to jinx it, now that they were this close to correcting the catastrophe with the JSS.

"Sir, we cannot fail. Really."

"Really? How's that, boy?"

"This one can lie, sir."

"You made the model untrustworthy ?" the voice gasped. He had reason to gasp, and to use such an outdated term. Before the NLP of clones was taken seriously, all models were untrustworthy - though, at the time, it was called 'equipped with free will', another archaism. Deceit, betrayal, lies, it was all at the command of beings that were, in every way possible, exact copies of real people, with the obvious consequences. Farac could feel, through the ethereal link and over the uncountable leagues, the anger and incomprehension rising, and cut in before it could start taking form in words, shouting regulations and barking sanctions.

"If you get down to the basics, Sir, you know as well as I do that the problem with the JSS was, basically, that it was trustworthy. Once the model was hijacked, it had no choice to remain loyal and truthful to what it considered Authority, because it's intrinsic programming gave it no other options. The point is, Sir, if you will let me finish, that the JDS will remain loyal to us, not just to
Authority, and that if it should be hijacked, it will betray the violating power as an act of that very loyalty."

Farac held his breath, and for a minute, there was total silence in the silence that should have been a conversation, if it ever had taken place.

"You better be right, boy. You better be right. You..."

"I remember Jerusalem I, Sir." He was there. He was Jerusalem I. Or had been. Or not, as a matter of fact.

"Yes." The link fell silent, and then dead, and leisurely continued it's nonexistence from before, as if nothing had happened, which it hadn't.

Farac turned from the console and went down into the Clone Room. The entire lab was maybe three rooms big, the largest of which would have made one of those solitary confinement
rooms from the old penile system seem cozy. He stopped before the naked man in the Clone Room.

The JDS was a short, tanned man, aged 29 years, 3 months, 5 days, 45 minutes exactly according to the local solar orbit, with dark hair and brown eyes, and a handsome face -
according to Farac's norms, because, quite frankly, it was his face that had been the model for it. Unlike the JSS, in which so much time had been invested, the JDS did not have the smaller details, like the marks from a life time of labor, the ability to sneeze, or an intricate set of
ethical and logical rules. This model had been designed with a purpose, which was to defeat whatever power had taken control over the JSS, and was causing massive damage to the local population. In a flash of inspiration, Farac had remembered to make the eyelids blink and the face able to frown and grin, but that was as far as he was prepared to go for this simple mission. This thing was bait, no more.

"JDS." The model's eyes lit up so briefly, if Farac didn't know to look for it, he would have missed it. "State your objective."

"Colonization."

"Elaborate."

"The GPA has created this environment to test mass psychic inducements. It has chosen these people to live here, and has decreed a set of rules they should live by. If they succeed in completing this objective, they, and all their kind, will be allowed Citizenship."

"Good! Go forth, and spread the word, my beauty." Farac reached into a cabinet, and gave the man a sack, as the wall behind him opened. The JDS stepped out into the desert, looked into the sack, found some simple garments and put them on. He started walking, never looking back at the opening that had disappeared, never realizing it had ever existed, anyway.

*Descramble
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*Descramble Priority 1
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*Unhide Trace
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The End