ASMSG Scifi Fantasy Paranormal Emagazine May 2014 | Page 24

SFP Indie Issue 2

PERFECTION
UNLEASHED
By Jade Kerrion

EXCERPT – CHAPTER ONE
On another Friday night, she might have been out at
a Georgetown bar, accepting drinks from attractive men
and allowing them to delude themselves into imagining
that they might be the lucky one to take her home.
Tonight, she had work to do.
The hem of the white lab coat brushed about her legs
as she strode toward the double doors that barred entry to
the western wing. No one paid her any attention. Scientists
and lab technicians scurried past her, nodding at her with
absent-minded politeness. On Friday evening, with the
weekend beckoning, no one thought about security.
Where men faltered, technology kept going.
The corridor seemed endlessly long, and the security
cameras that pivoted on their ceiling-mounted frames bore
into her back. She knew that her image likely featured on
one or more of the many monitors at the security desk, but
a combination of training and nerves of steel steadied her.
She resisted the urge to twitch or to hurry her pace.
Each step brought her closer to an ominously
glowing red eye on the security panel beside the door.
Undeterred, she waved her badge over the panel. Moments
later, the security panel flashed to green and a heavy lock
slid back. Another small triumph. It usually took a series of
them to make a victory.
She lowered her head, ostensibly to look down at the
tablet in her hand. Her long, dark hair fell forward,
concealing the lower half of her face from the security
camera as she walked through the open door. “Entering
the western wing,” she murmured, trusting the concealed
microphone to pick up on her whisper.
“Good luck,” Carlos’s voice responded through the
tiny earpiece inserted in her right ear. “All’s clear out
here.”
“I’m really glad the security pass I programmed for
you actually worked,” Xin added, a whimsical tone in her
voice.
Zara was glad, too. She had a solid plan. Two of her
finest associates backed her up—Carlos Sanchez waiting in
the car concealed off road outside Pioneer Labs, and Mu
Xin poised in front of a computer in her Alexandria
home—but she could come up with a list of a half-dozen
things that could still go wrong.
“I’ve finished checking the employee log against the
National Mutant Registry,” Xin continued. “You’ve lucked
out, Zara. Apparently Pioneer Labs isn’t big into hiring
24 | P a g e

mutants. You won’t have to contend with any telepaths or
telekinetics tonight.”
Good. That was one thing she could strike off her
list.
Another long hallway stretched in front of her, but
the glass-enclosed research station on the left drew her
attention. Two lab technicians huddled around a network
of computers, their attention focused on the output
pouring from the whirling terminals. Her gaze drifted over
the lab technicians and focused on Roland Rakehell and
Michael Cochran, the famous co-creators of “Galahad”,
the perfect human. The two scientists stood in
contemplative discussion in front of a liquid-filled
fiberglass chamber.
The man floating within the sensory deprivation tank,
his head encased in a metallic hood and his face covered
by breathing apparatus, writhed in agony. Wires
monitoring heart rate and brain waves trailed from his
naked body. Jagged edges leaped hysterically off the
computer readouts as mind and body convulsed,
shuddering with madness and pain.