Specimen(74)

“Yes, she’s going to be a big factor in this division, and before you ask, no, we don’t get along.”

“I could tell that from the last meeting.”

“We’ve been rivals for some time, but it isn’t going to impact my work.” It’s clear from Riley’s tone that she thinks McCall’s work will be affected.

Kane laughs.

“Well, she is on the nepotism plan,” he says. “Her mother is Colonel Mills’ best friend or something. She worked on the original specimen trials, too. She perfected the FOG.”

“The FOG?”

“That’s our pet name for Furioquel-gamma, the drug Doctor Mills designed.”

“Oh, she perfected it, did she?”

“You don’t agree?”

“Not even going there.” Riley rolls her eyes dramatically. “She worked on subjects from the very beginning, right? When criminals were used?”

“She did.” Kane nods his head once and taps at the tablet. “The criminal studies, while successful in methodology, ultimately failed. The first batch of volunteers were even a bigger mess. The specimens were too attached to their personal lives to be effective. Using memory wipes was her brainchild. Since then, we’ve had a much higher success rate.”

“But we’ve already lost eleven from this group.”

“What’s your clearance?”

“Green.”

“You’ll need to talk to the colonel about upping your clearance for any details on that.”

They move to the bed and stand over me. Riley reaches out and places her hand on my shoulder. She examines everything about me as I lie there, secured with bindings around my ankles, wrists, shoulders, and hips. She tilts her head as she strokes the inside of my arm.

“The limb implants were changed to your specifications,” Kane says.

“Good. I’ll need the additional control.”

“I hope it’s enough.” Kane walks to the other side of the bed. “He’s a well-built guy—good looking, too. Not too huge like a bodybuilder but nicely muscled arms and legs. His hair looks like it’s filling out around the scar, too.”

“Are you coveting my specimen, Terry?”

“I might envy your job just a little.” Kane grins and shrugs. “Do you know where he came from?”

“Just another volunteer,” Riley says. “You have to wonder what kind of person is willing to give up his life like this though.”

“I have no idea,” Kane replies. “The information isn’t included in the file. It’s not really relevant. If they’re here, they’re here. He isn’t going to remember a thing, so what difference does it make?”

“None, I suppose. I just wish there was a little more info in his file. It would be good to know what kind of natural tendencies he has.”

“Hopefully nothing that will compromise your success,” Kane replies. “He’s strong, though, so that should make him well suited as a soldier.”

“Will he have any memories of his past life at all? Any tendencies?”

“Unlikely,” Kane says. “We target specific memories first, then go after any other learned behaviors. There may be some basic personality traits dictated by hormonal levels and specific neurotransmitters. I suppose it’s all about nature versus nurture.”

“With the increased testosterone levels in the specimens, even if they are already elevated, we should have good results. They build muscle faster and tend to keep that violent edge.”

“That’s not all that’s going to be elevated.” Kane chuckles.

“How have other doctors compensated for increased sex drive?” Riley turns to Kane and looks at him closely, but Kane just raises an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t plan on taking advantage of my specimen,” she says.

“Not usually a first-day question,” Kane says with another broad smile. “I think I like you. There are ways. In fact, it’s budgeted in the project.”

Riley stands still for a moment, staring at him with confusion in her eyes. She blinks a few times, and she appears to be processing what Kane said.

“We bring the specimens prostitutes?”

“You got it, doc.” Kane’s confirmation results in a frown on Riley’s face. He smiles again. “They don’t complain.”

They chat for another minute before Kane leaves, and Riley is left alone with me. Before I look at the screen again, I glance at Riley, and she’s staring at the floor.

“This is when you wake up for the first time,” she says quietly.

I look back to the screen.

Riley engages with the computer for a moment before approaching my body again, sitting herself in the rolling chair beside the bed. She activates the recorder on her tablet and speaks into it as she takes my vitals.