James Axler – Rat King

wanted Murphy to keep talking.

Murphy was starting to get enthusiastic. “See, the main problem we face is that

we’ve got limited resources down here—in real terms, that is. We’ve got jackshit

in the way of fresh blood, and although blasters are up to par, we’re getting

low on plas-ex and grens. We need to trade more, but that’s not in the regs.

Instead we waste time with old projects that go nowhere, like the rat king. Or

all the old tech that stops and starts and can’t be used against the outsiders.

They’re the enemy now, not the Reds. Anyway, R&D ain’t that anymore, they’re

just a bunch of cretins, retards and muties who can barely keep the old shit in

working order, let alone make something new.”

“Very fine words, Sarj. Are you going to repeat them in front of the Gen, or

aren’t you quite brave enough for that yet?”

Murphy whirled at the sound of the cool, sardonic female voice. Dr. Tricks stood

in the doorway, arching one of her perfect eyebrows in a way that made Doc go

weak at the pit of his stomach. Truly, she was beautiful.

“Don’t do that to a man!” Murphy breathed heavily.

Tricks walked into the room, no, perhaps glided with a hint of a wiggle would be

more accurate, Doc thought, and put her arms around Murphy’s neck. She kissed

him delicately on the cheek.

“What’s the matter? Think I’m going to tell the Gen all about your little plan?”

“I know you wouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because you want me, and you’ll only be allowed when the regs are gone.” Murphy

smiled. “Then it won’t matter if you’re not good breeding stock.”

“Not like that pig Panner,” Tricks breathed in his ear.

It didn’t escape Doc’s notice that a flicker of irritation crossed Murphy’s brow

at the mention of the name. Remembering it was the sec woman he had chilled, Doc

felt it best not to comment. But certainly there was a dynamic going on here

that he wasn’t, as yet, privy to.

“Why are you telling the old man all this, anyway?” Tricks continued, not

appearing to notice Murphy’s brief flicker of irritation.

Murphy shrugged. “What does it matter? He’ll soon be chilled.”

“But I thought I was to prepare him for the Moebius MkI?” Tricks questioned,

drawing back from Murphy.

“Yeah, but he won’t survive, will he? I mean, you aren’t going to be able to cut

open his brain, are you? Not like the others.”

Tricks shook her head. “Not like that. But the Gen doesn’t want it like that.”

Murphy gave her a quizzical look, and she continued, “No matter what you think

about Wallace, he’s not entirely stupid. He’s well aware that we just don’t have

the expertise to open up the skull, to trepan like the others and direct-inject

the brain. That was lost a long time ago. I could do it, but there isn’t anyone

else around here that I’d trust to assist on the operation. You know how I feel

about the techs I have to deal with. They’re morons who can’t be trusted. But

Wallace is determined that I link up Tanner to the Moebius, and he wants me to

work out a way of connecting the old man without cutting into his skull. He

won’t die.”

“For that, madam, I am in your eternal debt,” Doc said with a mocking bow

designed to disguise the relief he felt. While he was still alive, there was

still hope of escape in some manner.

Tricks gave him a look of pure disdain. “I don’t think you’ll be saying that

when you enter the mainframe and become something other than what you are.”

Doc furrowed his brow. “You talk in conundrums, dear lady.”

Tricks shook her head. “I can’t tell you exactly because I’ve never experienced

it—obviously,” she added with a small and musical laugh that was almost

perfection. Perhaps, Doc mused, that was her mutation—to appear perfect in the

midst of such imperfection. She cut short his thoughts by adding, “All I know is

that Moebius takes the intellectual capacity of its components and fuses them

into one intelligence. So you become something other than yourself as the others