Nobility

by Dana Lyons

  With the lights out in the bedroom, he walked from the shower and the bathroom lights captured his naked, sculpted body. Well-formed pecs matched the exceptional tight buns as he turned.

  And then there was his package, a girl’s delight.

  She knew he was on to her when he cupped his manhood and struck a pose before glancing over his shoulder into the dark room.

  “I know you’re in there. I can hear you thinking … and you’ve got some pretty slutty thoughts, princess.”

  “Then come on in here, big boy.” She lifted the covers to make room for him. He tossed the towel and stalked like a panther going after prey. The muscles bunched in his legs, exciting her, and his manhood gradually lifted as he approached. By the time he reached the sheets and slid in, she and his cock were of one mind.

  He took her in his arms and pulled her close, nuzzling her neck, tracing sweet kisses across her collar bone. A wash of chill bumps shot across her shoulders and expectation rippled from her core.

  Slowly, teasing her, he gently removed her lace top and brief panties. His fingers opened her lower lips and circled her clit, making her knees sag open. “Come into me, now,” she demanded.

  But he wasn’t listening. He continued stroking her, one hand tracing along her belly and thighs, pressing her legs open further.

  His smell and his touch made her hot. She reached for his erection and stroked him, cupping his sack with her free hand. Shivers spread from her nipples, now hard with desire, and she moaned low in her throat.

  He rose and knelt before her. She inched up into the pillows and reached for him. “Don't make me wait; I’ve waited long enough.”

  Holding his hard flesh in hand, he approached. She tilted her hips up to receive him, but he pierced her with only the swollen head of his cock. He pulled out and rubbed the slick head all around her clit.

  She throbbed with desire. Her core ached and her nipples begged for him to take her. Again, he entered only the head and pulled it out. The slide of his flesh as he rubbed against her was maddening. “Please,” she begged.

  Instantly, he came forward and filled her.

  Her legs wrapped behind him as he sank a little deeper. Abs contracted as they curled into each other then pulled apart.

  They began the dance, gasping with ecstasy, pressing and clenching, friction building. A sweat broke and the pace quickened with bellies slapping. The first stirring of his orgasm laced through her mind and triggered hers. She bucked against him.

  Their bodies melded as their minds brought both orgasms to their joined nervous systems. His orgasm wrapped around hers and they came together in an exploding surge of ecstasy.

  He collapsed onto his side, pulling her with him and into his arms. They clung to each other as hearts slowed and breath caught up. He picked up a section of her hair and kissed it. She smiled and pulled him closer, his head resting on her shoulder.

  Their hearts came into synch and gradually pulsed together. He slid one leg between hers and kissed her neck. The peace of utter depletion gradually claimed his body and he sagged against her. She thought him asleep when he told her—

  I love you.

  I love you, too.

  Joy, satisfaction, feeling complete, all these pieces came together into a solid sense of rightness. She smiled in the dark and stroked his hair.

  All this from an attempt on our lives that almost killed us.

  But they had survived and still continued to thrive in incredible ways. He rolled over and she curled into his back and drifted to sleep, knowing there was nothing they couldn’t face together.

  * * *

  The next morning, they arrived at the office early. Rhys went to order Simon’s old file from the archives, while Quinn rang up the tech department. Dreya nodded to Simon. “Come on.” He followed her to Jarvis’ office. She rapped on the door.

  The director motioned them in. “Love, I thought you and your team were going to take a few days off.”

  “We intend to, sir. Actually, we might need a little extra time. We’d like to reopen the case where Simon lost his medical license. Are you familiar with it?”

  “Yes.” He peered at Simon. “But as I recall, it came to a dead end. What do you expect to accomplish?”

  “I want my license back,” Simon stated.

  “And,” she rushed to add, “since this person is a career criminal, we thought we’d just show up. Unofficially, of course, to shake his cage and see what rolls out.”

  “And where is this individual?” Jarvis asked.

  “Fairfield, Virginia. We have an address,” Simon replied.

  “That’s close enough for us to drive,” she said. “Rhys has developed a real aversion to flying in airplanes.”

  Jarvis leveled a gaze at her. His micro-reads showed her a conflict between wanting and not wanting to know something. Abruptly, he said, “Fine. Take a company car. Just let me know what’s going on.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Simon said and went for the door, always glad to leave Jarvis’ presence. Before Dreya reached the door, Jarvis halted her. “Love, stay just a moment.”

  Ah, she thought. He’s decided he does want to know after all.

  Hearing his serious tone, she sat in the chair, reading his face while he inspected her. His focus visibly shifted to internal thought, stirring a little unease on her part. “Sir, is there a problem?”

  His attention returned. “Just rumor.”

  “About?”

  “Lazar.”

  “And?” She held her breath, wondering what Jarvis knew.

  “And … nothing but gossip.”

  His facial reads told her the rumor about Lazar was simply a lead in for what he really wanted to ask. “Go ahead. What do you want to know?”

  He snorted and released a short laugh. “I should have known better than to try hiding something from you.” He shifted in his seat and fidgeted with a pen on his desk.

  Knowing what a careful speaker he was, she waited while he chose his words, wondering what weighed so heavily on his mind.

  Finally, he said, “What’s it like?”

  “Sir?” She leaned forward.

  “Nobility.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, easing back into her seat. His question surprised her. “Nobility is everything Lazar claims.”

  Her mind drifted to her old ways that were filled with loneliness and self-doubt, overflowing with anger and disgust for the criminals she pursued, drowning in out-of-control alcohol consumption. She’d been set on a path to self-destruct, likely burning out before she was thirty-five.

  In contrast, on the heels of last night’s bonding with Simon, her life now was rich with fulfillment, love and stability. Self-doubt no longer plagued her for she had inventoried her ever expanding abilities under Nobility’s hand and now understood her strengths … and her dwindling weaknesses.

  Considering how much she’d changed, how much her life had improved since Nobility, she had only hope and rising expectations for her future. “I wouldn’t go back. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  He cleared his throat and lifted his chin. His reads told her he was both surprised and … cautious, but curious.

  “Based on what I understand,” he said, “this process is ongoing, lifelong. You have no concerns about what’s happening to your body?”

  “At first I wanted to kill Lazar.” She twisted her lips with memory, recalling her judgement that he needed to be stopped. “I knew for certain he was a madman. But then the changes came and I began to notice the results of Nobility’s work not only on my body and my DNA, but on my thoughts and awareness, my attitude and behavior.”

  She nodded with grudging respect. “Nobility’s effects have moved my heart and mind and thus changed my perceptions and actions. Because of this, I recognize I’m a better person. Any concern over what Nobility is doing to me has evaporated—along with my wanting to kill Lazar.”

  “He’s no longer the madman?”

  “Quite the opposite.
”

  2

  New York

  Dr. Anthony Lazar sat in his home office in an exclusive neighborhood outside New York City. Across from him, Sasha Ivanov presented a glowing example of success for Lazar’s genetic editing formula, Nobility.

  Where previously Ivanov had been one of the most wanted criminals on every continent for crimes against humanity, now, thanks to Nobility, he’d quickly progressed into an altruistic being dedicated to the betterment of humanity. “I can’t thank you enough, Dr. Lazar,” Ivanov said.

  “You have no regrets?” Lazar queried. He peered closely, searching for any hesitation in Ivanov’s response. Ivanov hadn’t asked for Nobility, had received it by trickery as part of Lazar’s grand experiment to change an individual. Was there any residual anger?

  Originally, Lazar had intended Nobility for all humanity, to genetically end ego based behavior such as greed and jealousy. But he knew many wouldn’t willingly take the editing.

  A prime example being not only Simon Sinclair, but Dreya, Rhys and Quinn. Yet for all their initial resistance, they had come to applaud Nobility for the changes it brought to their lives. In spite of this evidence, the quandary over mass Nobilization presented a moral conundrum his intellect couldn’t overcome.

  His mention of regret weakened Ivanov’s smile. “The only regret I have,” he rushed to say, “is that I hadn’t met you sooner, that I hadn’t been edited much earlier.”

  There it is, Lazar thought. No hesitation, no resistance, only gleeful acceptance. Just like Dreya, Rhys, and Quinn. And Simon. All had progressed from abject resistance to grudging acceptance … and on to personal acclaim for Nobility.

  Ivanov continued. Tears filled his eyes and anguish crushed the remainder of his fading smile. “If only we could have prevented the awful things I did, the people I hurt.”

  “But you’re not that person anymore, Sasha. Your past has been forgiven, for you will never behave in that manner again.”

  Ivanov wiped his eyes. His bright smile returned and he nodded vigorously. “Yes, and for that I thank you.”

  “So, you have no regret over what you’ve become, only regret for what you were?”

  “Yes. Nobility is the only good thing that’s ever happened to me. I wouldn’t go back for anything. In fact, I look forward to where Nobility will take me.”

  Ivanov rose and collected his jacket. Lazar walked him to the front door. “You’ll keep me apprised of your progress?”

  “Yes.”

  “And Nobility remains our secret?”

  “Yes. Everyone thinks I found God.” He chuckled. “I wonder sometimes if I have.”

  Ah, God, Lazar acknowledged. Would He hesitate to give Nobility, seeing it as the conquering of evil, or the removal of free will? But even with Nobility, choices remain.

  “Where are you off to next?” he asked.

  “Tomorrow I fly to Africa. The World Court declined to prosecute me in view of my efforts at reparations. And the UN has made me a good will ambassador; I’ll be returning to all the countries I ravaged to make good my promises. And, as a true criminal mastermind, I’m consulting to make changes to the laws to prevent people like me from picking up where I left off.” He looked down, finally hesitant.

  “What? What concerns you?” Lazar probed. “If you have any issues about Nobility, you must tell me.”

  “No, not Nobility. It’s just … I know there are people out there far worse than me. My crimes, as worldwide as they were, are small compared to what some are up to.” He shrugged one shoulder as hopeless concern wrinkled his brow. “How do we stop them, Dr. Lazar?”

  He knew well the people Ivanov spoke of. In his early days while lobbying for a facility suitable for his work, he spent considerable time with the rich and powerful. Men and women who lived above the code of law, both legal and moral. A shiver skipped down his back, for these people were reprehensible and repugnant on a shocking scale.

  How do we stop them?

  The words circled in his mind. Nobility had emerged from his early days, rooted in his desire to defeat disease. But in the course of his journey, he became exposed to the powerful elite and a new goal wove itself into the purpose for Nobility.

  As much as he wanted to benefit the masses, it was the lofty one percent who presented the most critical need for Nobility. Once he’d perfected Nobility to eradicate disease, completing his primary goal, he turned to behavioral adaptations with these people specifically in mind. He had to ask—

  How better to improve humanity beyond removing disease?

  On Draco Station, while creating dragon shifters, his pursuit of dismantling the ego began. His work with animal DNA reminded him animals didn’t have an ego and gave him the idea to cage the ego in latent animal DNA. And so, Nobility gained a new purpose.

  “Indeed, Sasha. How do we stop them? Let me sleep on it.”

  That night, Lazar crawled into bed with shadows cast on his thoughts by Ivanov’s words.

  My crimes are small compared to some.

  Lazar knew them. Senators, billionaires, family lines, even royalty. Such were the constituents of this ancient congregation who felt they should rule the world, people who believed that by virtue of their wealth they were best qualified to make decisions for millions of people. Given a chance, these people would cut the population by half or better.

  What does it feel like to want the deaths of over three billion innocent people? What kind of mind entertains such thoughts?

  While one part of him whirled from the moral conundrum about Nobility, another part of him spun with revulsion for those who wished to exterminate enough of humanity to satisfy their goals.

  A world where satanic rituals and abominable crimes against children exist, a world that makes Ivanov look like the fairy godmother.

  The persisting revulsion stirred to life by Ivanov’s words toyed with his moral conundrum. Whereas his uncertainty over delivering Nobility had plagued him from the moment he created the formula, seeming to give him no rest even though his goal was complete, he couldn’t say his entire purpose had been fulfilled.

  Having begun this journey with the simple desire to remove disease such as the one that had killed his sister, he hadn’t foreseen everything Nobility would ultimately accomplish. His recent success with Ivanov presented new possibilities for what Nobility could do for humanity, not only singularly but for the collective.

  In the beginning, with only goodness and benevolence in his heart, he hadn’t anticipated this internal conflict about Nobility, about whether or not he had the moral authority to distribute it. But Ivanov’s words had raised a question extending beyond his moral conflict … to that of his moral duty.

  He tossed from side to side, finding no physical comfort, no mental relief. By three o’clock he left his bed and returned to his office, pouring a glass of brandy. He claimed the chair opposite his desk where Ivanov recently sat and gazed at his diplomas on the wall.

  Doctorates including genetics, virology, microbiology, chemistry and psychology proclaimed his proficiency, his immeasurable IQ, his capacity to absorb information and process it.

  And yet, here I sit with a problem I can’t seem to solve. To Nobilize or not to Nobilize humanity?

  His scientific mind demanded empirical evidence to support his aspirations. If he wanted humanity free of greed and jealousy along with other ego driven pursuits, wouldn’t he also be subject to the same treatment? He was reminded …

  The theory for Nobility deemed the ego of no benefit.

  The brandy slid down his throat and heat pooled in his belly, releasing his inhibitions. The many complex compartments of the human mind and personality continually amazed him. At times we’re ruled by ego, other times the id or the superego, with all this fueled by various emotions mixed with perceptions extracted from life’s experiences. All a game orchestrated by the ego, a faulty and self-defeating program.

  He drained the glass and set it on the side table. His mind conjured a t
hought that came frequently when he was conflicted.

  What would Dreya say? What would she do in my place?

  She represented his ultimate success, modified by Nobility to the absolute best of her God-given potential. Like Ivanov, she had made a 180 degree turn from what she had been to what she’d become, embracing her new abilities, also God-given, but buried deep in her DNA.

  He had to wonder. With my many abilities, what might lie buried in my DNA?

  And then there was Simon. He’d once accused Lazar of having the biggest ego of all.

  Yes. But ego gave me the drive to create Nobility!

  “To which a Nobilized Dreya would say, ‘What if your ego no longer serves you. Perhaps the ego is actually getting in the way of the God-given potential that lies buried in your DNA.’”

  Seeing where the trail of logic led, he nodded with sudden clarity. “Nobility cuts to the bone with pure truth.”

  What can I create, not with my ego, but with Nobility?

  That simple thought led him to limitless possibility. The final barrier of his own resistance to Nobility let go and he felt the rush of infinite potential slip down his spine.

  Surrender to Nobility.

  He rose and went to his desk. From a locked drawer, he removed a vial marked Anthony Lazar and a syringe. He tied off his left arm and then loaded the syringe with a surprisingly steady hand.

  Placing the needle tip to his bulging vein, he said, “Nobility, let’s see what’s buried in my DNA.”

  * * *

  Within an hour of speaking with Jarvis, Dreya and the team were on the road to Harper’s with Rhys driving, Quinn in the front, and her and Simon in the back. The darkened windows gave a sense of isolation and concealment. Being on the road with her pack made it a good day. “Fill me in on Harper.”

  Simon pulled out a thick file and passed it to her. She cocked her head. “Anything he hasn’t done?”

  “Apparently little,” he responded. “I can’t believe he’s the same boy I grew up with. I don't know what caused him to be like this.” He nodded to the file. “To be like that.”