It seemed hours had passed, but he knew only a few seconds had elapsed. Less, maybe. Jason’s thinking processes were greatly accelerated. He looked up at Tarien and nodded. “I’m okay. I have myself under control.”
Without expression, the Tech moved out of his way and gestured to the scene behind him.
Jason cried out at the horrific scene. A team of Medics attended to Jenn, hovering over her and attempting to stabilize her. Jason could see flashes of her torn, bleeding body as she continued her litany of mindless protests. Eve and Ephrom stood exactly where he’d left them, watching him adoringly, sickeningly. He feared releasing them, knowing the hate they would feel for him. For what he had become.
Still, with great care, he restored them to normal by reverting the instructions he’d sent earlier to override their hormone production and brain signaling. He unblocked key parts of their mind, which he’d used to cage them, restructuring their will. Both of them collapsed, blessedly unconscious. The medical team kept them from falling to the floor and quickly put them on floating stretchers, which they pushed from the room. He could feel them, knew they were caught in a traumatic slumber, resulting from the waking nightmare they’d both endured.
In horrified disgust, he sank to the floor against the wall, cupping his head. Aware of his nakedness, of Jenn’s blood on his body, he realized how monstrous he must appear. He was deeply ashamed.
“Well, well. I see you certainly made a mess of things, Doctor.” Faust had come into the room and Jason could hear the nasty sneer in his voice.
Jason looked up as the older man stepped over Emma and entered the room, attended by several guards.
“Still, it appears as if our little incentive program paid off. A bit drastic, I agree. However, it often takes a lot of parenting to get people where you need them to be.” He laughed. “I certainly enjoyed the show, I must admit. You provided some wild entertainment for a while there. I wasn’t quite sure how things would end. It would have been a shame to gas you and then incinerate the room.”
Jason felt like murdering the horrible old man and he knew this rage didn’t stem entirely from his systemic changes. Jason hated him. “You’re a monster! You should have stopped me sooner!” Before Jason could launch a mental attack to destroy Faust, rid the world of his evil, a staggering blow to his psyche nearly made him black out. Something ripped Jason’s control away forcefully, with much less care than when Tarien had nullified him. He screamed and, as his vision cleared, he saw Faust was attended by another Tech.
Nine looked at Jason with the same impassive unconcern inherent to all Sector Techs, his black eyes devoid of emotion.
Tarien did not even turn, and Jason assumed he must surely be in rapid communion with the other Tech on a level nobody else could comprehend.
Jason stared, horrified. While he couldn’t believe a Tech had fallen under Faust’s direct control, the thing aided Faust in some way. Prevented Jason from harming Faust. The Tech had rendered Jason helpless.
Faust laughed, obviously aware Jason had tried to kill him. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I’d allow you to lash out after so much care has been taken to bring you to this point.” He looked down at Emma who had stopped struggling and lay quietly. Well, Jason? Are you going to let her up?”
Jason suppressed his hate for the man and, with an approving nod from Tarien, and a brief return of his broadcast abilities, he reset the floor to its default configuration, which unbound Emma as it changed back into a flat surface.
A couple of Medics helped her to her feet.
The Tech nullified Jason’s abilities again, just as harshly as before. A frown crossed Tarien’s face. Jason did not protest.
“If you can’t learn to cooperate, you will have to be forced.” Turning, he motioned for the guards to secure Jason. “Take him to the holding cell and hose him down. He looks rather . . . frightening, if truth be told. I’ll be along after I take care to contain things.”
The guards pulled Jason roughly to his feet, nearly dragging him out the door and down the hall. They pushed him, still naked, into a vehicle that normally moved equipment within the complex, and transported Jason to another location. Even though he could see out of the enclosed cart, he was easily confused by the unchanging scenery as the vehicle moved through various hallways and down numerous levels of the building. They exited the vehicle after some time, and he was led for a while through winding corridors of bare concrete.
The chill of the maintenance corridors did not affect him, as his body adjusted quickly. Nor did the strain of walking such long distances. While mentally tired, and emotionally exhausted, he remained physically strong.
At last they reached an area that appeared to contain nothing more than large, solid concrete rooms. The guards roughly pushed him inside one of the cells and the door slid closed. Turning, he saw two other armed guards standing near the doorway, complete with body armor. A third dragged a hose, which Jason barely had time to notice before they turned it on, blasting him off his feet with freezing cold water.
He fell backward when the force of the water hit him and bruised his butt on the hard floor. The concentrated spray pushed him back against the wall. He cursed. He healed immediately, of course, and the water no longer felt cold as his body adjusted. At least the Techs had permitted his automated functions to continue to operate. Maybe they were unable to unbind the changes. He got up and scrubbed himself off, actually walking into the spray with an inhuman display of balance and strength. He couldn’t read the guards, since his external communications had been turned off, but he could guess their surprise at his inability to feel the cold and the powerful muscular control which allowed him to remain standing against the force. He stared impassively, letting the spray wash over him.
The water shut off and the guard opened the door and dragged the hose through. The door automatically closed behind him as he left the room. Neither of the other two guards who remained so much as moved.
Jason sighed and sat against the far wall, water pooling around him and rushing toward the drain as he dripped onto the floor. At least he finally felt clean. For a long time, he had to fight to keep from weeping over Jenn and all the damage he’d caused. Body exhausted, he lay down and slept.
Fourteen
HIS DREAMS WERE LESS poignant, less urgent feeling than those of the past couple of nights. Even so, he thought he couldn’t shake the vague sense of missing something important being conveyed, something just at the back of his conscious thinking.
He woke and sat up, the most recent dream lingering in his mind. He realized it was the lack of being able to sense and control people and materials around him that he was missing.
The guards still stood at the door. He couldn’t tell if they were the same guards or not and had no idea how long he’d been asleep. Someone brought him food and water, which he ate with purpose. He slept again.
By the third resting period, he had control over his system, and his body had reached a point where it wasn’t undergoing further changes. Physically, he locked himself in at this idolized version. He couldn’t discern if the nannies were still busily writing changes and replicating, evolving within him on a molecular level, but at least he felt none of the sudden rushes and disorientation he’d experienced before. His body still craved pleasure, but he knew better, and dampened the nearly overriding urge.
At long last, the door opened, and Director Faust walked in, accompanied by two more guards, a man and a woman. Neither wore helmets. Jason almost considered it to be worth the effort to lunge and be shot down, hoping to reach Faust before the guards could destroy enough of his body to incapacitate him. He couldn’t be killed, not without removing his head and dissolving it in acid or burning it, but he could be stopped.
Faust still had the same smug look, which seemed to be permanently etched on his face. He looked Jason up and down, then guessed at Jason’s murderous thoughts.
“Oh, by all means, try. I’m almost looking forward to having yo
u torn limb from limb, just to watch you scream while you heal. It might be as entertaining as pulling the knowledge from your skull by torturing you in other ways.”
Torture? A flash of terror went through Jason, recalling his nightmare where Faust had done exactly that.
“No? Well, you disappoint me. I cannot say I’m surprised. Now then, I need to know details. You are rather unstable if your performance last week is any indication. So, transmit the instructions you’ve learned.”
Last week? So, he’d slept much longer than he’d thought. His mind raced. Jenn would have been treated as much as possible, and he desperately wanted to know her condition. Jason also heard the implied fact that they didn’t understand the data he’d generated during his living nightmare, hadn’t puzzled out his ability to now control himself. Their inability to understand the information could prove useful.
“Oh, I see, so now you’re going to sulk.” Faust crossed his arms. “Well, I assumed as much. You are really quite predictable.” He motioned, and the two guards crossed the room and attached chains to Jason’s legs and arms, then secured them to rings on the wall behind him, which disappeared into the wall. Clearly, they could be pulled back to secure him. The guards saluted smartly and left the room. A moment later, they entered with a chair and a mobile medical analysis station and then backed away. They positioned themselves on either side of the door with the other two helmeted guards.
Faust seated himself in front of the station. “I assume you are going to fight me every step of the way, so I’ll just jump right to the point. I’m going to tear you apart, little by little, and we can record what’s going on. Eventually, you’ll get to a point where you can’t help but consciously start issuing commands, which will give me the data I need to suppress this issue of hormonal imbalance.”
Jason stared at him in horror, realizing he had no escape.
“I’m going to turn your broadcast nannies back on, so you can learn to control them. This time, nobody will show up to cut off your nannies from external reception. I’m recording the signals you use so I can decipher them myself.” He touched the display.
Suddenly, all his external bio-feedback came online. With horror, Jason quickly suppressed his desire to reach others to control them. He felt such self-loathing, he had little trouble keeping himself in check.
He did lash out at the Director, hoping to kill him before the little toad could react. However, his broadcast abilities were dampened in an area around the small man.
Surmising his thoughts again, Faust said, “Naturally, I’m wearing a dampening suit. Another invention I’m proud of.” His smile was cold, reptilian.
Jason had nothing to say.
“Now then. Let’s get started.”
Faust’s fingers flicked over the display and the chains retracted, pulling Jason back against the wall in an upright spread-eagle fashion.
“That’s really obnoxious, you know,” he said, referring to Jason’s large sex organ. He turned to the guards. “Go get something to cover him. I don’t want to have to look at him like this while I’m working. It’s disgusting.”
The woman disappeared out the door.
The Director made several notes and ignored Jason for a while. Eventually, the guard returned with an oversized towel, which she proceeded to wrap around Jason’s waist. Then the guard stepped back to stand near the door.
The Director continued to ignore Jason and focused on his screen, typing rapidly. After a while, Jason began to meditate. He carefully calmed himself, sending specific instructions to his nannies and refusing to allow the incoming signals to overwhelm him.
As Faust continued to work, Jason eventually became aware of the guards, both of which had their nannies available to him. The negation field only surrounded the Director, so Jason could sense people, even those outside the room. Just as he realized he could sense them, Jason also understood this apparent lapse. Clearly, Faust hoped Jason would reveal how to control those around him, perhaps being tempted into using the guards to kill him. There was no way the man had accidentally forgotten to prevent Jason from communicating with their nannies. He refused to play Faust’s game.
The Director finally looked up from his pretend work, clearly annoyed Jason had not taken the bait. “Not going to seize one of my men, eh? Fine. I have plenty of other tests.”
He picked up a scalpel from the silver tray and walked over to stand directly in front of Jason. With a quick motion, he slashed a deep wound across Jason’s chest. It healed almost immediately. The Director cut him again. The wound healed just as quickly. Faust began slashing rapidly, cutting Jason on the face, arms, and chest. Jason thrashed against his restraints, the pain lancing through him. He tried not to scream, but finally threw his head back and bellowed like an enraged animal. His control slipped and his mind flooded with hormones and a cascade of negative emotions, including murder.
This time, familiar with the overpowering thoughts, he kept them under control. He refused to let them take over his consciousness. He willed away the pain, became detached. After a while, the cuts no longer hurt, no longer felt like anything. Eventually, he simply ignored them, retreating into himself.
The Director clenched his jaw in disappointment, but finally stopped. He stared at Jason for a while and Jason guessed he wanted to continue to cut at him, regardless of the lack of reaction. Faust walked back over to his machine and analyzed the collected data.
“I’ll have to correlate the information gathered, which will take several days, but this is a good start. Not as much as I’d like, but I’ll find ways to extract more useful information.”
He signaled, and the guards removed the station and the chair and resumed their positions around the door. Every sentence, every action taken, had been a way to gather data. Jason had no choice but to transmit a way to negate his pain. This would give Faust information he needed.
Faust left without another word. Jason hardly noticed as he sagged against his restraints.
Time passed, and the guards fed and watered Jason with regularity. Still chained to the wall, he had no ability to care for himself, so he suffered the humiliation of urinating and then, finally, of defecating himself. The guards hosed him down and replaced his towel, the only garment they bothered to cover him with.
He slept, his head rolling to one side, and the cramping pains were horrible. Eventually, he learned to change his body enough to make the cramping subside. Days passed like this, with him simply hanging from the wall as they fed him, cleaned his excrement by spraying him down, and otherwise ignored him.
The guards changed shifts every six hours, but were forced to stand, doing nothing, the entire time. He tried to talk to them at one point, but they refused to recognize or acknowledge him. As he extended his ability to sense those nearby, he began to analyze their nannies. He learned to tell them apart and sense their feelings toward him. Mostly, they were indifferent. Bored. Several of them found him attractive and fantasized about taking advantage of him while he couldn’t resist. Most of them were fascinated by his male organ, even the straightest guys, who thought of them as a curiosity and with some envy.
Two of his guards wanted to torture him, running through scenarios where they could severely injure him and test his healing abilities. Jason hated being able to read these ugly thoughts. As he grew more familiar with the process, his senses increased, and he began to fine-tune this ability. The materials in the room did not contain the nano-technology he wished was available. For a moment, he’d thought about escape until he realized there wasn’t a way to free himself. He knew the moment he used one of the guards, a dampening field would come into play and Faust would have the data he needed to broadcast instructions on his own, a way to make changes and impose will.
After long periods of sleeping and waking periods had elapsed, Faust returned and repositioned himself with another mobile medical station. This time, his tactics were more brutal. He burned Jason’s flesh, applied acids. Jason thrashed against
his bonds as he screamed until he could isolate the pain and turn it off. Invariably, once Jason stopped responding, Faust would return to his recordings to analyze the mechanism Jason employed, then change tactics.
Several rounds of this torment culminated in Jason’s whole body being subjected to fire. Faust charred his flesh and waited for him to heal, subjecting him to unbearable agony. Jason writhed in torment as flames burned away his flesh. The torture reduced him to sobbing uncontrollably, crying out nonsensically. He tried to shut out the pain, but he couldn’t ignore fire as easily as being cut and it cost him great effort. There was also the fundamental fear that fire could completely destroy him. Burned completely, Jason could not recover. He required enormous amounts of food to regenerate from this torment.
Eventually, his captors took him down from the wall and strapped him to a metal table. He attempted to throw his guards off as they released him. He almost succeeded, but they managed to bear down on him and hold him while they strapped his arms, legs, neck, and waist. For a while, he lay like this, barely breathing, hoping they would just kill him and be done with it.
But Faust had more tests. He cut off Jason’s fingers, then his entire arm. It took days to heal the horribly painful wound, but his arm and hand grew back.
Sector Seven Page 24
