by McGill, Brie
She sat up, laughing with an unbelieving smile. “What, so I don’t recognize anything else you’ve stolen?”
He took her hand, interlocking his fingers with hers.
Ninkasi felt the weighty emerald ring pushing against her finger, butterflies in her stomach, and the delightful anticipation of being alone in his presence.
“I will blindfold you because. . .” He slipped the fabric over her eyes and secured the knot behind her head. “I want to make you guess,” he whispered, his hand slipping beneath the straps of her dress, “which naughty thing I will do to you first.”
Illustration by S. Yoshiko
www.sexdrugsandcyberpunk.com
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Kain is book #1 in the Sex, Drugs, and Cyberpunk series
Alien Bride is book #1 in the Sex, Drugs, and Biopunk series
Psychedelic Riot Helmet, book #2 in the Sex, Drugs, and Cyberpunk series, is scheduled for April 2014
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Excerpt from Kain (Sex, Drugs, and Cyberpunk #1)
Available on Amazon
I. Glory
The distant, steady beeping of an electrocardiograph machine roused him from the abyss and into a fuzzy state of consciousness. He knew they ogled the spikes and dips on the screen displaying his brain activity. He knew they used their machines to eavesdrop on his every breath.
During these delicate moments between waking and sleeping, Kain sensed their scrutiny most acutely. He knew they waited for something, they wanted something, but every time he woke, he found it impossible to remember.
“Skirra.” A rough male voice interrupted his thoughts; fingers snapped. “Increase the current.”
“Yes, Sir,” a timorous female voice responded. Fingers clacked across a keyboard. “Output is increased by twenty units.” Skirra tapped her foot against the tiled floor.
A harsh, electronic tone split through his head, cutting into his brain like a knife: in a burst of pain and confusion, his bubble of thought popped and disappeared.
“He’s primed.” The man approached with the clomp of heavy boots. “Inject him.”
“Sir. . . Commander Brigham? Sir. . . if I may speak. . .” Skirra’s limp fist thudded against her chest; she offered the customary salute. “The biomedical research team in the Nanotech Department submitted a recent study of the compounds for review, and—”
For a moment, neither spoke. The electrocardiogram beeped steadily.
She cleared her throat. “One of the primates in the experiment went berserk.” Pausing, she swallowed. “Sir, not that I am comparing your investments to a bunch of monkeys, Sir—” She vouched for her intentions with another salute. “I believe this experiment will bring Glory to the Empire, Sir!”
Rattling a rack of glass vials, Skirra poked through a clanging assortment of tubes. She selected one from the rack and popped the cap. Moments later, she tore a disinfectant pad from the wrapper.
Kain knew all of these sounds; they were routine.
“Then do it.” Brigham’s fingers drummed on a nearby table.
Cold fingers dug into the muscles of his arm, dabbing him with a cool swab, moist with an astringent-smelling chemical.
“That whole department is revolting. They have become so obsessed with transcending human limitations that they’ve grown disgusted with the body.” Brigham snorted. “It will forever retard their efforts.”
Skirra drove the needle into Kain’s arm.
“The will to live frustrates them because it is irrational, unquantifiable; there is no way to predict it, or to accurately compensate for it within calculations.” He hovered over Kain. “The body is an impressive machine: consider the possibilities in subduing that will, in bending its power to serve your goals.”
Skirra’s cold hand, bedecked with metal rings, gave Kain’s hand a firm squeeze.
“If we want to test his capabilities, we have to push him to the limits.” Brigham’s voice remained cool, scientific. “If we find his breaking point, we can control him. Once we can control him, we are free to utilize those capabilities to the fullest extent.”
Pressure surged through Kain’s head, overwhelming him. He lurched forward, restrained by thick, leather bonds on a metal chair. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes fluttered open.
Skirra released her hand. “Sir, his vitals are stable!”
He squinted, blinded by the garish light.
“Let’s begin.” Chase Brigham, a sturdy man old enough to be his father, with waist-length silver hair, loomed over Kain and spit the booming command: “Aadima.”
Mind abruptly blank, Kain opened his eyes. He tilted his head to one side, feeling a metal helmet shift on his head. Posture stiffening without his control, Kain nodded, making a fist, unable to beat his chest in salute. “Commander Brigham, Sir!”
Brigham glanced at the winking display of computer monitors beside him, and then at his watch. “Thirty-seven seconds.” He nodded to Skirra. “Note it.”
Skirra fumbled with an electronic notepad, alternately typing notes and chewing her nails.
Kneeling down on one knee, Brigham signed an intricate series of hand gesticulations to him. “Greetings, Kain.”
Kain could think of nothing to do. Feeling nothing, wanting for nothing, he remained rigid in the chair.
“Dvitiiya.” Brigham paired his command with a symphony of motor signals. “Disable.”
“Secondary Dvitiiya functions.” Kain echoed him in an empty voice. “Disabled.”
“Kain.” Brigham climbed to his feet, sauntering behind the chair. “Tritiiya.”
Kain froze. His mind froze.
“Damn you!” Brigham grabbed a flat remote from his pocket, and pointed it at him.
Moaning as violent tremors wracked his body, Kain convulsed and flopped in his chair.
The unforgiving bonds subdued him, held him in place, subjecting him to further torture.
Skirra lifted her hands to her head, watching in horror as graphs spikes and numbers soared on adjacent computers.
“There are no uses for faulty machinery!” Brigham leaned into Kain’s face, hissing his words. “None. You remember that.”
Skirra glanced at the clock and chewed her nails.
“Kain.” Brigham cleared his throat. “Load Tritiiya.”
Shifting his posture, Kain’s breathing slowed, and he sat upright. He stared ahead with empty eyes and spoke in a monotone. “Tertiary Tritiiya functions loaded, Sir.”
“Kain.” Brigham waved his hand and spoke in a thunderous voice. “Load Caturtha.”
“Identification confirmed: granting access to restricted Caturtha systems.” Kain mechanically rotated his head toward the floor and closed his eyes. “Proceed with instructions.”
Skirra plunked an unwieldy pair of goggles over the bridge of his nose, fitting the frames one at a time over his ears with a gentle touch. Compulsively grabbing the tufts of flaxen hair that poked from his helmet, Skirra thumbed his temples affectionately before jerking her hands away. “Sir, goggles are ready, Sir!” She threw her hands into the air and blushed.
A hypnotic lightshow of flashing colors entranced him.
“Kain, do you recognize the image of this man?” Brigham drummed his fingers against the chair.
Amidst the lights, Kain saw flashes of an elderly man, with thinning hair and age spots. “Recognition affirmati
ve, Sir.” Kain knew him: he was a senator.
“Spectacular.” Brigham joined his hands in a deafening clap. “Execute primary Caturtha commands, and target this man.”
“Target confirmed, Sir.” Kain remained hypnotized by the goggles. “Requesting variables of mission duration, Sir.”
Brigham pealed his final command. “Caturtha functions will terminate when his Glorious duties are fulfilled.”
“Parameters understood, Sir.” Kain twitched. “Caturtha, execution complete. Awaiting further instruction.”
Brigham waved dismissively. “Kain, I require no further services from you today.”
Kain’s eyes fell shut, and he slumped forward in the chair, still restrained by the leather bonds.
He felt himself drifting again. . . floating, fading. . .
Looming over him, Skirra placed a hand on Kain’s chest. She paused, and then quickly swiped the goggles, retreating behind Brigham.
“Skirra, send for Krodha. We’re finished today.” Brigham turned and strode toward the door.
“Ahem. . . Yes—”
Brigham exited and the electronic door slammed shut on her question.
“Sir.” Skirra sighed.
Kain heard her trot across the room, and mash buttons on a distant desk. “Session cleanup required!”
Scrambling across the room, Skirra dove onto the floor and knelt beside him. She clutched Kain’s hand, struggling to loosen the straps on the chair. She succeeded enough to rotate his wrist so that his palm faced up. Feeling for one pulse point, Skirra pawed at his flesh until she found it, and then repeated the action on a second pulse point.
She pressed the pads of her fingers into his skin and lamented, “You poor thing.” After removing the helmet from his head, Skirra ran a hand beneath his chin and pinched his cheeks together.
The electronic doors to the examination room clicked open.
Skirra leapt away from the chair, eyes wide.
“You said you were finished!”
Unable to respond, unable to fight, unable to flee, Kain’s body stiffened. The beeping of the electrocardiograph indicated an increase in heart rate.
Kain knew that voice—and he hated it.
Skirra’s voice squeaked. “Yes, Krodha, my apologies, Sir!” She groped at the bonds, frantically loosening Kain, plucking away the electrodes attached to his body; she retrieved a knit sweater from nearby and tugged it over his head, clothing him.
Krodha stomped toward Kain, grabbing both his wrists and yanking him from the chair.
Kain drooped in Krodha’s arms, his feet dragging on the floor.
Krodha hoisted him up and gave him a shove.
Legs folding, Kain crashed against the floor, cracking his elbow and smacking his face against the hard tile.
“Aah!” Skirra zipped across the room and dropped to the floor, rolling Kain over and resting his head on her lap. She ran fingers across his forehead, through his hair. “Be careful with him!”
“Ms. Department Head, that won’t be necessary.” Krodha squatted, wrapping one of Kain’s arms around his neck, and, keeping a steady grip on one of his legs, hoisted him onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. “You know he’ll be fine. That’s how it works.”
Skirra swallowed.
Krodha dropped him.
Kain crashed against the floor, landing on his back.
Krodha kicked him in the ribs with a cold laugh, and squatted to hoist him into another carry. He sauntered to the edge of the doorway, Kain dangling over his shoulders. “You engineered this stupid mongrel to take a beating.”
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About the series:
All the titles in the Sex, Drugs, and Cyberpunk series are written as stand-alone novels. The world is the same; characters will reappear in subsequent books (though not in every single title); most importantly, the stories are meant to be read in any order. This is because the author hates to count.
The Sex, Drugs, and Biopunk books take place in the same world as the Sex, Drugs, and Cyberpunk series, but feature a different roster of characters. They are written to serve as a political addendum to the Sex, Drugs, and Cyberpunk books. They are squishier, and the reader is advised to read with a strong cup of peppermint tea, or anything else that may calm the stomach.
Brie has over ten titles planned for your sweat-soaked entertainment.