arms to catch himself. His weapon went spinning, but he landed without knocking out his teeth. When nothing more happened, he looked back.
A red-suit pointed a laser at him. The man had razor-thin eyebrows and the deadly intent eyes of a pit bull. On his suit was the name: Ngo Drang. He was the second guard that had helped the major torture him in the interrogation room.
Drang frowned. “I… I should shoot you.”
Marten sagged in defeat. He didn’t know why Ngo Drang hadn’t already done it. Then he looked at the tight face, at the empty, odd stare in the killer’s eyes.
“Hissss—splat,” said Drang. “A neat laser hole in your forehead.”
“You should take me to the major,” Marten said.
Drang shook his head. “No. I… I should kill you. I don’t know why I haven’t done it already. It’s…” He shook his head, frowning.
“The major wants you to take me to her,” Marten said.
“Yeah?”
Marten rose slowly, noting how the laser tracked his forehead. Deep-core pressure was all he had between him and death. “We’d better go.”
The intense frown left Ngo Drang’s face. “That way,” he said, gesturing with the laser.
19.
When Marten had first stepped off the elevator into the deep-core station, Major Orlov had been twining her thick fingers into the long dark hair of System Specialist Ah Chen. The Chinese technician was exactly the type the major passionately hated: Petite, pretty, with luxurious dark hair and eyes like a vid star. Ah Chen made her baggy brown overalls seem sexy and provocative. Major Orlov hated her on sight. So she gripped the system specialist’s thick hair and yanked her head.
“You’re going to help us obliterate Sydney, my smooth-skinned harlot.”
Ah Chen remained speechless. Tears welled in her fawn eyes and streaked her oval face. She’d squealed in terror until Orlov had forced her to watch the quick and efficient slaughter of her deep station colleagues. The major had grinned and made a running commentary as her killers had hosed the room with beams. Sobs still racked the tiny thing.
“No crying!” Orlov shouted, jerking the small head from side to side.
The little beauty sniffled and sobbed. So the major slammed her face against the wall, listening to the little button nose crunch and break.
“Did you hear me!” roared Orlov, enjoying herself hugely.
Ah Chen bowed her head. Her blood dripped to the floor.
Major Orlov shoved the tiny system specialist ahead of her into the hall, and did so all the way to the main reactor room. It contained a bewildering array of computer screens and keyboards. Openmouthed, terrified technicians stared at them.
Major Orlov shook Ah Chen’s head. Then she leaned low and whispered into her ear, telling her what was expected of her.
The tiny Chinese technician turned in amazement. “No. I-I-I cannot do as you ask.”
“Pity.” Major Orlov gestured to her killers.
The little technician cringed as lasers beamed. More of her colleagues collapsed amid bloody butchery.
She whispered, “You might as well kill me too. I’m no good to you.”
Major Orlov barked harsh laughter. “Kill you? I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.” She indicated the room. “I know several of the steps for prepping the station for a geyser, but not all of them. No. You will help me destroy Sydney.”
The small technician’s dread was palpable as color drained from her face. So very slowly, she shook her head.
“Are you brave, my dear?”
“No. But I cannot do as you ask.”
“Conditioning?”
“You are correct.”
“Don’t you know that Political Harmony Corps can break conditioning?”
“I must inform you that you cannot break Deep-Core’s.”
“Oh yes, most certainly we can break Deep-Core’s.” Major Orlov snapped her fingers.
A pot-bellied PHC officer, with thinning hair and droopy eyes, opened a black case. He had pudgy little hands with dirt under the fingernails. No laser pack was slung on his back. No pistol was cradled at his side. He was known simply as ‘the Doctor.’ He now took out a pneumospray hypo.
Ah Chen’s fawn eyes grew wide with fright.
The Doctor explained. “Oh, it isn’t painful, I assure you. This is simply a hyperaesthesic.”
The small technician appeared bewildered.
“It heightens your senses,” he said, as he pressed the hypo to her arm, letting it hiss.
She jerked her arm back, rubbing it.
“No, I advise against that,” said the Doctor.
Her hand shot off her arm as pain creased her features.
“As I said, a fast-acting hyperaesthesic. Your heart rate and breathing will increase, and your senses will become many times more sensitive. For instance, the light in this room will soon hurt your eyes. The clothes you wear will begin to chafe unbearably. Certain odors you’ve never noticed will now become most pronounced. It’s possible that what you now consider an awful stench will make you vomit. In the quantity you’ve been given—a large dosage, believe me—these new sensations will become….” He exposed small teeth in a rather nasty smile, “…decidedly uncomfortable.”
Major Orlov laughed. “You’ll never have felt pain like this.”
Already the tiny technician twitched this way and that. But that only increased the obvious discomfort she felt from her clothes.
“Let me help you,” said Major Orlov. She took hold of Ah Chen’s garment and ripped off the top half, exposing the petite Chinese technician from the waist up. “Not too well endowed, are you?”
The little technician covered herself with her hands.
The major took each tiny wrist and swung the arms behind Ah Chen’s back, snapping handcuffs onto her. The system specialist painfully sucked in her breath.
“It hurts?” asked the Doctor.
“Why are you doing this?” asked Ah Chen.
The Doctor reached into his black bang, pulling out a wand. “The nerve lash,” he said professionally. “Notice, I position the switch at one, the lowest setting.” The wand purred evilly. “I then apply the tip to your belly.”
Ah Chen screamed, her face twisting hideously.
The Doctor popped a rubber ball into her mouth. The technician’s eyes widened in shock. “You’ll become quite a bit louder,” the Doctor told her. “We don’t care to wear ear plugs, so you must accommodate us.”
Major Orlov giggled wickedly.
“Examine your belly,” the Doctor said, taking away the nerve lash.
Ah Chen did. There was no mark.
“This is a marvelous instrument,” the Doctor said. “Now notice, I set it to level two. The pain will now increase.” He touched it to her left breast.
Ah Chen collapsed into a thrashing heap onto the floor.
Major Orlov cracked her knuckles in anticipation.
