Nights in Transit 7

Paying Fargon has hit a snag. Yes, we do have the money, but entering Fargon's cloning compound, we discover he has been kidnapped and ransomed.

"The ransom demand is for Fargon's secret computer chip with its contents unencrypted," Alison Watts, Fargon's scientific colleague tells us.

"If that's all they want, just give to them," I say.

"Fargon hid the chip in one of his clones," Alison says, looking directly at Princess Fatima.

"You've got be joking," Princess Fatima says. "I think we should just walk out of here."

"The chip is inside your left palm," Alison said. "I can remove it painlessly."

Princess Fatima groans and offers her left palm to Dr Alison Watts. Injecting local anaesthesia and using a laser scalpel, Alison removes the tiny chip cleanly and applies a stitch from a robo-arm in the spacious white clinic.

"One problem remains," Alison says, this time looking meaningfully at me. "I can't unencrypt the contents of this chip. I'm just a clone specialist."

"And I'm just a former cargo handler and former prisoner transport officer," I say.

Alison hands me the chip, and the princess pats me on the back.

"Just do it," Princess Fatima says.

"Men have an exaggerated perception of beauty in certain things," Alison quotes the standard Psychological Theory. "If it matters to you that you solved the rubix cube in less than a minute, chess is crucial, and Archlinux is religion, you must be a man."

I allow them to lead me to Fargon's office. I don't even use Archlinux. I prefer Linux Mint Debian.

I sit at Fargon's desk and insert the chip into the side slot of Fargon's desktop computer. Sure enough, the contents of the chip are encrypted and running free open source encryption apps, I discover that the encryption signature comes from a virus. I groan. There's only one way to access the contents of this sort of thing.

I enter the Dark Web and the domain of Incognito, the author of this virus.

"I know you have the key to the Trump Putin virus," I message Incognito. "How much?"

The message in reply demands 6 million galactic credits, slightly more than what we owe Fargon. I look at Princess Fatima. She nods. We pay this; we owe Fargon nothing.

I transfer the credits and receive the Abaddon Key. I run the key. Data spills from Fargon's chip. Fargon had hacked the Sultanate of Oman's server to discover their devastating secret. The anonymous kidnappers can have it if I be the judge.

The Earth was destroyed by climate change and economic disaster due to wanton greed, culminating in nuclear catastrophe.

The present Earth is a perfect replica created by the Ahriman Confederation, terraformed precisely, and peopled with clones extracted from DNA remains on the former dead planet.

The Ahriman Federation runs our replica Earth from the Sultanate of Oman. Princess Fatima is heiress apparent because she has no brothers, and her only sister Salimah is younger.

Princess Fatima is the ruler of the Earth in waiting. No wonder she has been forgiven, and Alladin the Hassassin did not kill us on the Holobask Pleasure Planet.

Princess Fatima is effectively Queen of our Earth in waiting, her Highness and my Royal Majesty. SPEW.