Chapter 4 Rita's Ashes-Level Disaster
# Chapter 4: Rita's Ashes-Level Disaster
The private hospital wing gleamed with sterility, every surface reflecting the soft blue light of medical monitors surrounding Caesar Sims. Three weeks had passed since his collapse at the United Nations, and despite the finest medical minds in the world confirming that the "pregnancy" was actually an elaborate network of nanobots mimicking fetal signatures, his reputation had suffered irreparable damage.
"Your vital signs are normal, Mr. Sims," the chief physician reported, consulting her tablet. "The last of the nanobots have been neutralized and extracted."
Caesar dismissed her with an impatient wave. "What about the press situation?"
His PR director winced visibly. "The 'Expectant CEO' memes are still trending. Late-night shows won't stop with the morning sickness jokes. And the Hello Kitty video has over three billion views."
"Find Nydia and those children," Caesar growled. "Whatever it takes."
As if summoned by his rage, the hospital room's massive screen flickered to life, displaying a breaking news chyron: "RITA THOMPSON ALIVE? DECEASED FIANCÉE OF CAESAR SIMS SPOTTED IN MONACO."
Caesar lunged for the remote, increasing the volume.
"...exclusive footage appears to show Rita Thompson, supposedly deceased for over six years, alive and well at the Monte Carlo Casino last night," the reporter announced as grainy security footage showed a copper-haired woman in an evening gown.
"Impossible," Caesar whispered, face ashen. "I watched her die."
His security chief stepped closer. "Sir, facial recognition is 98.7% positive. It's her."
"Find her," Caesar ordered, struggling to maintain composure. "Now."
---
Exactly four hours later, Rita Thompson sat across from Caesar in his penthouse suite, looking exactly as she had the day of her "death." Her copper hair cascaded over bare shoulders, her emerald dress matching her eyes—eyes that now regarded him with cold calculation rather than the adoration he remembered.
"You look remarkably well for a dead woman," Caesar said, pouring himself a third whiskey.
Rita's smile was brittle. "Rumors of my death were... strategic."
"Strategic?" Caesar's glass shattered in his grip, blood and alcohol dripping onto the marble floor. "I mourned you for years! I built a mausoleum! I—"
"Created an army of substitute brides to replace me?" Rita finished. "How resourceful of you."
Caesar's security team hovered discreetly in the corners of the vast room, weapons visible.
"Why?" he demanded. "Why fake your death?"
Rita dabbed her lips with a napkin. "Self-preservation. I discovered your little embryonic experiments. When my 'accidents' started happening with suspicious frequency, I made arrangements."
"I loved you," Caesar whispered. "Everything I've built since—the cloning research, the genetic advancements—it was all to bring you back."
"How romantic," Rita said flatly. "You loved me so much you immediately began breeding replacement versions."
Caesar leaned forward. "Not replacements. Improvements. Vessels that could one day host your consciousness."
Rita's perfect features softened momentarily. "Perhaps I judged too harshly. It must have been... difficult... after my 'death.'"
"You can't imagine," Caesar said, vulnerability cracking through his armor. "I scattered your ashes over the Mediterranean myself."
"About those ashes..." Rita began.
The door burst open. Security guards flew backward as if hit by an invisible force. Nydia Schmidt walked in, dressed in combat gear, flanked by her five-year-old twins.
"Hello, Caesar," Nydia said coolly. "Having a reunion?"
Caesar lunged for the security alarm, but Aurora, the little girl, tapped something on her wrist device that froze all electronic systems in the room.
"Ms. Thompson was about to have a touching moment," Orion observed. "Should we give them privacy, Mother?"
"No need," Nydia replied, approaching Rita. "I think it's time for some truth."
Rita stood, backing away. "Security! Remove this woman immediately!"
Nydia smiled coldly. "They can't hear you. And they wouldn't help if they could—not after hearing this."
She pulled out a small device and pressed play. Rita's voice filled the room:
"Once I get control of Li Corporation, I'll have that sentimental fool Achen turned into a specimen. His brain tissue alone should advance my research by years."
Caesar's face drained of color. "Achen" was his childhood name, known only to his closest family—and Rita.
"That's—that's edited footage," Rita stammered. "She's manipulating you, Caesar!"
"The timestamp shows this was recorded three days before your 'death,'" Nydia said. "When you were planning your escape—not from Caesar's experiments, but with them."
Caesar turned to Rita, devastation etched across his features. "You were stealing my research?"
"I was improving it!" Rita snapped, her gentle facade crumbling. "Your obsession with immortality was limiting our potential. The embryonic modifications could revolutionize warfare, not just medicine!"
"You wanted weapons, not cures," Caesar whispered, realization dawning.
"Don't act so superior," Rita hissed. "Your hands aren't exactly clean, darling."
Nydia stepped between them. "As fascinating as this lovers' quarrel is, we have other guests waiting."
She activated a holographic projector. The room filled with twelve identical faces—women of varying ages, all bearing Rita's features, arranged in a grid pattern.
"What is this?" Caesar demanded.
"Your collection," Nydia answered. "Meet the Rita Series, Clones 1 through 12."
One of the clone faces moved forward in the projection. "Hello, sister," she said, addressing Rita. "Remember me? I was your first successful clone."
Another face pushed forward. "And I was the embryo you discarded when my cognitive tests showed 'excessive empathy.'"
One by one, the clones introduced themselves:
"I was terminated at age three for asking too many questions."
"I was kept in suspended animation as spare parts."
"I was the prototype for your consciousness transfer experiments."
Rita backed away, horror washing over her face. "They were supposed to be terminated!"
"We escaped," said the youngest-looking clone, barely a teenager. "We formed a union. We're suing for personhood rights and back wages."
Caesar collapsed into his chair, staring at the parade of identical faces—his life's work, his obsession, his crime.
"Nydia," he whispered. "How did you find them?"
"I didn't," she replied. "Vera did."
On cue, another woman entered—identical to Rita but with a jagged scar running from temple to jaw.
"Hello, sister," Vera said to Rita. "Remember me? Your twin? The one you used as your first experimental subject?"
Rita's composure finally shattered. "You were dying of the same genetic disorder that killed mother! I saved you!"
"By testing untried gene therapies on me without consent?" Vera touched her scar. "By harvesting my eggs to create your first batch of clones?"
The twins watched this exchange with clinical interest, Aurora taking notes on a small tablet.
"This family reunion is better than those reality shows Aunt Vera lets us watch," she whispered to her brother.
Caesar suddenly clutched his chest, face contorting in pain. Blood trickled from his nose as he collapsed to the floor.
"Daddy's having another episode," Orion noted calmly, checking a device on his wrist. "Nanobots detected in his cardiac tissue."
Medical alarms throughout the penthouse began blaring. Rita backed away, reaching for a hidden weapon, but Nydia was faster. She pressed a small device against Rita's neck, causing her to crumple instantly.
"Just a sedative," Nydia explained to the startled clones. "We need her alive for the lawsuits."
As medical staff rushed in to attend to Caesar, the twins approached his convulsing form. With synchronized movements, they placed their small hands on the security panel of his private safe, their fingerprints—genetically identical to a combination of Caesar's and Nydia's—unlocking the biometric security.
The safe swung open, revealing stacks of documents, data drives, and a single aged file labeled "Subject N-37: Origin Protocol."
"Mother," Aurora called, "we found it."
Nydia took the file with trembling hands, opening it to reveal infant photos of herself connected to monitoring equipment, genetic sequencing charts, and a birth certificate with parents' names she'd never heard before.
"So it's true," she whispered. "I was his first experiment."
Vera placed a comforting hand on Nydia's shoulder. "You were the prototype. The only one who survived with enhanced abilities intact."
Caesar regained consciousness, reaching weakly toward Nydia. "You... were... perfect," he gasped. "My greatest... creation."
Nydia's eyes blazed with cold fury. She stepped to the massive windows overlooking Caesar's prized rose garden—a perfect replica of the one where he had scattered "Rita's" ashes years ago.
"Your creation?" Nydia pressed a small detonator. Below, the garden erupted in flames, roses curling and blackening in the inferno. "Perhaps we should discuss appropriate containers for your actual remains, Caesar. I'm thinking Rita's skull might make a fitting urn."
The twins joined Nydia at the window, their small faces illuminated by the rising flames.
"Mother," Aurora asked, watching the fire with fascination, "will we be staying for dinner?"
"No, sweetheart," Nydia replied. "We have a meeting with the clone representatives. They're forming a class-action lawsuit against Li Corporation for 'illegal creation of laborers without compensation.'"
Caesar struggled to sit up, blood still trickling from his nose. "You can't... the company will... collapse..."
"That's the point," Orion said, his child's voice incongruously mature. "Creative destruction is an essential economic principle."
As medical staff stabilized Caesar and security contained the garden fire, Nydia gathered her children. The Rita clones' holographic projections watched in silent judgment.
"We'll be seeing you in court, Caesar," Nydia said, pausing at the door. "The twins are particularly excited—it's their first public appearance as your legal heirs."
Caesar's hoarse voice stopped her. "They're not... just yours and mine... you know that... don't you?"
Nydia turned, expression guarded. "What do you mean?"
Despite his weakened state, a ghost of Caesar's arrogant smile returned. "Their genetic structure... has three contributors... not two. Ask yourself... why they look so much like... Rita."
The twins exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them as they studied their reflection in the window glass—their amber eyes suddenly taking on new significance.
"He's trying to manipulate us," Aurora said confidently, but her small hand sought her brother's for reassurance.
"Probably," Nydia agreed, but doubt had crept into her voice. "We'll run new genetic tests when we return to the facility."
As they left, Vera paused beside Caesar's bed, leaning close to whisper in his ear.
"You always did love your games, Caesar. But you forgot the most important rule."
"What's... that?" he managed.
Vera smiled, a smile identical to her sister's yet somehow more terrifying. "When you create monsters, make sure they don't come back to destroy you."
In the hallway, one of the Rita clones approached Nydia. "What happens to the original?" she asked, nodding toward the sedated Rita.
Nydia considered the question. "She faces the same choices she gave others. She can join your collective and help build a new future, or she can stand trial alongside Caesar."
The clone nodded solemnly. "And what about you and the children? You're as much victims as we are."
Nydia watched her twins conferring in hushed tones, their intelligence and poise both unnerving and awe-inspiring. They were Caesar's creations, potentially part-Rita, and yet undeniably hers. Products of a monstrous experiment, yet innocent in their own existence.
"We're something new," Nydia finally answered. "Neither victim nor monster. And we're just getting started."
