CHAPTER TWELVE
Tom felt uncomfortable in his cage, wondering how they caught him. He would have fought them off before Sloan, no before the injection Ed gave him. The Dominant knew, however, it was his own fault. He should have been more careful, not assuming the drug had worn off completely. He tried the bars of the cage. The metal was impenetrable, a strange new alloy.
The only time he had visitors was when a man left a package of food and water. They were in plastic so he could not use them as a weapon. Other than that, they left him alone.
He grew drowsy after eating, suspecting they had put in a sleeping potion. When he awoke, he would feel sore.
This continued for some days, or weeks until he decided to trick them. He ate the food, but not the liquid, letting it soak into the ground when the other man had left. He then feigned unconsciousness. It worked. They came for him, strapped him on a table, and wheeled it into a large white room with a metal table with tweezers, scalpels, electric cords, test tubes, and containers with various amounts of liquid on top of it. It also had an electric drill, a screwdriver, various pins, and a battery as well as a surgical saw. Tom could feel pain like all Dominants. Their senses were sharper than most, but the one thing that protected them from screaming out was their high pain threshold and low emotional level. Tom called on his reserve as his torturers used electric shock, needles, the works, but they did not try to dismember him.
One of the men in a white mask came over with a small tube which he inserted into the lower part of The Chosen's body. He gave the results to another man who put it in a tube.
Tom now knew what the soreness was about. It was not just his blood, hair, and perspiration they were interested in. They wanted to see why the Dominants were different. He could have told them. They were the next step.
He saw a woman with blonde hair, recognizing her as Attwood's boss. She was talking to another man about a new recruit and the latter looked at Tom.
"When are we going to finish him off?"
"When I say so." She looked at her watch. "Now hurry, I've got to get back to civilization. Perhaps those four you talked into joining will show up. This is the third time I've been disappointed. How far are they along?"
"Enough for implantation. Are you sure we're doing the right thing?"
"Yes. These Dominants are dangerous. The only way is to kill them off, but why not make a profit while doing so? We can leave a select number alive and put them where they do no harm."
"But ship these to Mars? What if they revolt?"
She snapped at her underling. "They won't. I've a place near here with safeguards. They'll grow up there, know no other life. We'll have our own radio and television station and you can't reach it except by air and then when they're old enough, we'll volunteer them or they'll volunteer for the Space Program. Only they won't have a choice."
Their backs were to him. He tried to loosen the straps, but they were intertwined with the same metal and then they turned and looked at him.
"He's awake," said the Limo lady, "give me the needle."
Before Tom could react, she jabbed him in the arm and he fell asleep once more.
Tom felt uncomfortable in his cage, wondering how they caught him. He would have fought them off before Sloan, no before the injection Ed gave him. The Dominant knew, however, it was his own fault. He should have been more careful, not assuming the drug had worn off completely. He tried the bars of the cage. The metal was impenetrable, a strange new alloy.
The only time he had visitors was when a man left a package of food and water. They were in plastic so he could not use them as a weapon. Other than that, they left him alone.
He grew drowsy after eating, suspecting they had put in a sleeping potion. When he awoke, he would feel sore.
This continued for some days, or weeks until he decided to trick them. He ate the food, but not the liquid, letting it soak into the ground when the other man had left. He then feigned unconsciousness. It worked. They came for him, strapped him on a table, and wheeled it into a large white room with a metal table with tweezers, scalpels, electric cords, test tubes, and containers with various amounts of liquid on top of it. It also had an electric drill, a screwdriver, various pins, and a battery as well as a surgical saw. Tom could feel pain like all Dominants. Their senses were sharper than most, but the one thing that protected them from screaming out was their high pain threshold and low emotional level. Tom called on his reserve as his torturers used electric shock, needles, the works, but they did not try to dismember him.
One of the men in a white mask came over with a small tube which he inserted into the lower part of The Chosen's body. He gave the results to another man who put it in a tube.
Tom now knew what the soreness was about. It was not just his blood, hair, and perspiration they were interested in. They wanted to see why the Dominants were different. He could have told them. They were the next step.
He saw a woman with blonde hair, recognizing her as Attwood's boss. She was talking to another man about a new recruit and the latter looked at Tom.
"When are we going to finish him off?"
"When I say so." She looked at her watch. "Now hurry, I've got to get back to civilization. Perhaps those four you talked into joining will show up. This is the third time I've been disappointed. How far are they along?"
"Enough for implantation. Are you sure we're doing the right thing?"
"Yes. These Dominants are dangerous. The only way is to kill them off, but why not make a profit while doing so? We can leave a select number alive and put them where they do no harm."
"But ship these to Mars? What if they revolt?"
She snapped at her underling. "They won't. I've a place near here with safeguards. They'll grow up there, know no other life. We'll have our own radio and television station and you can't reach it except by air and then when they're old enough, we'll volunteer them or they'll volunteer for the Space Program. Only they won't have a choice."
Their backs were to him. He tried to loosen the straps, but they were intertwined with the same metal and then they turned and looked at him.
"He's awake," said the Limo lady, "give me the needle."
Before Tom could react, she jabbed him in the arm and he fell asleep once more.