Creations 1: The Perfect Creation (3 page)

Then he’d given them over to Synster for handling—tests and experiments that would drive the sanest individual crazy.

Canunn hadn’t counted on his teachings being so well-received, however. Because it wasn’t long before Erin and her siblings realised they were not being given the same
respect,
gratitude
and
loyalty
that they doled out to others. They were, in fact, treated as no better than lab specimens.

For days at a time they experienced sensory deprivation, then overstimulation, pain and pleasure, a mix of the two and then extremes of both. Erin had slowly learned what it meant to dislike, disdain, and even hate. Unlike Anin, Erin didn’t like giving her complete obedience, and she struggled daily, wishing to bestow her service to someone who’d truly earned it. Though deemed imperfect, Erin still held real value. According to Canunn, she was the first viable, intelligent, decisive-yet-trainable humanoid ever created by Blue Rim. Not a clone or an android, but a carbon-based being who’d undergone artificial maturation and survived without completely losing her mind, unlike the Creations before her.

Synster, however, dwelled on her defects, and not to be outdone by his colleagues, her Handler endeavoured to perfect her ‘flaws’.

Synster didn’t like to call them punishments, but the beatings, abuse and tests he’d inflicted, to see ‘how she responded’, had been beyond cruel. Or so Erin had heard several female lab techs whisper, though they never did anything to help her. And because others questioned, Erin found herself able to acknowledge the wrongness she’d always felt in the labs. She began to pay attention to the others around Canunn and Synster. Other scientists subtly disagreed with Canunn, and many of them vocally disliked Synster. They disapproved of his sexual liaisons with Anin especially, as well as his brutal pleasure in disciplining Ryen. Ryen hated Synster and said so openly, whereas Anin appreciated Synster for allowing her to fulfil his needs. She’d been created to serve, and she did so with pleasure.

When Erin questioned her about it privately, however, Anin admitted to liking
the idea
of servitude, but she didn’t much care for Synster or the sexual act itself.

As the years passed and their handling grew more intense, Erin, Ryen and Anin became closer and more affectionate with one another. Erin felt real love for her brother and sister.

And she knew they wouldn’t be able to tolerate much more of Blue Rim’s abuse, what certainly wasn’t right or fair according to the “System Inhabitant’s Rights” vids she’d secretly confiscated and watched.

So Erin devised a plan to escape. With the help of the captured prisoners also used as experimental test subjects, she’d learned of Cheltam and the System beyond Eyra. That there was a life outside of Blue Rim where people had the freedom to do and say what they wanted when they wanted. That it was in fact illegal to kidnap and genetically interfere with life’s inception. Erin and her siblings shouldn’t have been allowed to exist, and if found out by the wrong people, would be terminated on sight. And if word got out about Blue Rim’s method of acquiring test subjects, i.e. by stealing prison contingents, Blue Rim would effectively end.

Unfortunately, Blue Rim had contacts in high places, most especially with System Law, which Erin had found out the hard way. She rubbed her side and stared at Cheltam, wondering how he would have handled a half dozen peacemakers with stunners in hand.

Probably would have paid them off, or charmed them with a crook of his lips.

She frowned, wondering why she experienced so much curiosity about the male lying soundlessly next to her. Perhaps it was because Cheltam, to her dismay, didn’t fit the picture she’d initially formed of him. His appeal struck her as odd. She’d always assumed that those without conscience would look the part. Both her Creator and her Handler had shifty, untrustworthy eyes and slim, weak frames, as did most of the other scientists at the labs. Evil men, they wanted nothing more than to propel themselves forward in the spotlight, no matter the cost to those they sacrificed in their bid for fame and fortune.

Cheltam, on the other hand, appealed to her sense of what a male should look and act like. Though he hadn’t smiled, his lips were both firm and full, and she knew they would curl invitingly should he grin. His eyes held power. Strength and control, two traits Erin prized. And that body. Erin narrowed her gaze on her prisoner as she noticed his clothing.

Though he wore the same dark pants he’d worn in his study, his shirt looked different, as did his boots, which puzzled her.

She leaned closer and inhaled. He had the same sultry scent as before, but it was richer, maybe because they shared a smaller space. And that dark brown hair, those sculpted cheekbones and predatory eyes now closed, those looked the same. But his black shirt bothered her. Erin toyed with the collar of it and accidentally brushed the warm flesh of his throat. The touch of his skin against the sensitive pads of her fingers froze her still.

A burst of pleasure filled her, a warmth unlike anything she’d ever experienced with another, centred in her belly. Curious, she watched for any sign he might be awake, and seeing his steady, even breathing, she touched him again.

His smooth skin felt warmer than her own, and the spark of energy flickering between them told her he was more than he seemed. Many in the System possessed psychic or enhanced abilities that made them special. Erin herself had been constructed to sense the energy around her in all things. But staring at Cheltam, she wondered where his talents lay.

Perhaps he was a telepath. Or a Ragga’s descendant, considering how quickly and easily he’d met her attacks in his dwelling. Yet he didn’t have the domineering build of a Ragga. He was tall and lean, muscled much like an assassin, she thought as she studied him. The feel of him under her fingers, however, made her wonder if he might have some Nebite in him. Because the more she touched him, the more she
wanted
to touch him. And that odd desire told her to be wary of the seemingly vulnerable male.

Reluctantly leaning back, she knew she’d have to be on her guard with him. She’d used the sight of her dazzling eyes to take him off balance before, but the odds of her taking him unaware again didn’t figure. Cheltam wouldn’t make that mistake with her a second time.

Recalling how strong and agile he’d been, she knew she’d best be alert for anything from the canny thief.

As the rover left the crust of civilisation behind and drew nearer to the outlying Eron Forest, Erin began to relax. The provisions she’d brought wouldn’t last them though, so she planned on another stop, but only once they’d reached the forest perimeter and the last of the northeastern markets.

Cheltam groaned as they neared their final destination. The rover indicated the Flots trading tower on the edge of the forest as a last chance at necessities. And considering she’d planned their trek through the forest to last several days, and that was just to get them to Flor’s Fields, she knew they’d need to pack heavy.

Conscious of her exposed hair and face, she rummaged in the sack for cover when his voice broke the silence.

“You pack a helluva punch, don’t you?”

To her consternation, his raspy voice stroked along nerve endings she hadn’t realised she possessed, and she put herself on guard as she turned to stare at him fully awake. Those golden eyes blazed with a strange combination of curiosity and anger.

“You’re still hurting?”

He snorted. “My head’s ringing, but at least my cock’s all there.” He frowned at her. “It is all there, isn’t it?”

She blinked. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you nearly smashed it to nothing with your fucking knee.” He groaned and felt himself, and bemused, Erin stared at him, fascinated with the shape his fingers outlined.

She knew the differences between male and female anatomy, between several species other than human, even. But she’d never been so fascinated with their differences as she was now.

“Are you well?”

“A little sore, but okay.” He sighed with relief and focused on her again. His sharp gaze seemed to take in everything from her long hair bound in a tail behind her head to her purple eyes and glittery skin—skin that she quickly toned down to a smooth tan. “You really are beautiful. I’ve never seen your like before.”

And you won’t again, if Blue Rim has anything to do about it.
“Yes, well, I’ve never seen your kind before either. None of the other Mardu on the planet have that colour eyes.”

“You should talk,” he murmured and frowned when he pulled at his shoulders.

“Cuffs?”

“For your own protection.”

He grinned, and a buzz of warmth stole through her again. “For whose protection?”

“Yours,” she answered bluntly. “Because if you try anything, I’ll be forced to kill you.” That took the smile from his face, but not the interest from his gaze. “I see.” He pursed his lips, and she wished she’d been gifted with telepathy, because she dearly wanted to know what he was thinking. “You’re wanted, aren’t you?”

“Don’t play with me. I was told you’d give me a fair shake, but instead you caved to Blue Rim’s demands without hearing me out. Why is that?” She closed the distance between them, angered all over again. “How do you know I don’t have as much to offer as they do?” Cheltam focused on her mouth, and she felt a subtle hum between them, confusing her.

“You’re right. I should always examine every angle before making a final decision.” He licked his lips and met her gaze again. “Must have been the huge amount Blue Rim’s throwing out there.”

“A hundred thousand is nothing to scoff at, but surely a man as steeped in vice as you would give a fellow criminal the benefit of the doubt.” Erin poked him in the chest, irritated anew that she wanted to keep the contact between them. “Hell, Cheltam. I thought you hated System law.”

“I do.” Though nothing in his expression changed, Erin could feel a guardedness come over him.

“Well, walking hand in hand with Blue Rim is like signing on with the peacemakers.

The lab has everyone they need deep in their pockets,” she said bitterly, unable to stop her frustration.

“So tell me, what would you have me do for you, honey?”

“Erin, the name is Erin.” She wanted to hear him say it. To know who had kicked his ass once and would do so again until she had what she needed—his cooperation.

“Erin.” He nodded. “Tell me again what you need. I find I’m in a much more…willing frame of mind to hear you out than I was earlier.” She snorted. “No kidding. I want a techie to help me destroy some data, and I want a cruiser armed with enough demolitions to wipe Blue Rim off the map. Because I want that place destroyed, but only after the prisoners within it are set free.” He frowned. “Prisoners?”

“Yeah. Regular people like you and me.”
That sounds good. Make him think we’re the same.

“Prisoners heading for the penal colonies on the outer perimeter of the System. Any of the freighters unfortunate enough to come near Eyra end up ‘delayed’. That’s how Blue Rim acquires their research subjects. By kidnapping and eventually killing them. No fuss, no mess. And the freighter captains are lining their pockets and keeping the jails free from overcrowding.”

“Everyone wins,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on hers. “Is that what happened to you?

Did they capture you and, ah, experiment?”

Startled, Erin hadn’t realised what a good cover the prisoners would make. “Yes, exactly what happened to me.” Her heart raced. If she could delete any and all reference to hers and her family’s creation in Blue Rim, they might actually find a way to live without looking over their shoulders all the time. Canunn and Synster had been adamant that life outside the labs was impossible. Creations, according to them, were only deemed acceptable in the environs of Blue Rim and were subject to termination outside of scientific progress.

Yet, if she wasn’t a Creation, but a poor victim of Blue Rim’s objectionable practices…

“So you want revenge.” He nodded. “I get it. But honey—Erin,” he amended at her glare. “You have to know you can’t possibly compete with anything a monster like Blue Rim will offer. Hell, they practically own all of Eyra. A hundred thousand beks is like a drop in the bucket to them.”

She frowned. “I was told you were more about screwing with the law than about currency.”

He shrugged, not easy to do with his hands behind his back and his body crushed against the seat. For all that he had a leaner frame than a Ragga’s, Erin saw she’d misjudged him. Cheltam was thick about the chest and possessed longer legs than she’d thought.

“Man’s gotta eat. I’ll admit, the new head of Peacemaker Central pisses me the hell off. He’s a nightmare on two legs.” Cheltam grimaced. “All right. I’ll bite. What did you plan on offering for my help, because I don’t recall anything mentioned?” His tone softened as he stared at her, and Erin suddenly knew how to get his cooperation. Between Anin’s descriptions of what Synster liked and what she’d seen in her time away from the labs, Erin thought she knew enough about the male mindset to proffer something to interest Cheltam.

Herself.

“I have something you can’t get anywhere else in the entire System.” True. She was the only female humanoid ever created that functioned on her own, with the exception of her sister. And Erin was a lot more independent than poor Anin would ever be.

“Oh?” His eyes turned smoky, and the raspiness of his reply signalled definite interest.

Erin reached out and laid her fingers along his throat, and again that warmth filled her.

Helpless to stop herself, she began releasing wafts of pheromones guaranteed to snare the male. “If you help me, Cheltam, I’ll offer you something so rare and precious you’ll be begging to give me anything I need.”

“Begging, hmm? What’s your offer?”

“Me.” She ran her fingers down his chest and held her palm over his racing heart. He was affected, no doubt, but he didn’t jump on the offer that so many others she’d encountered since leaving Eyra would have taken and run with. She’d received so many propositions in her brief sojourn to Mardu she could have made a nice living for the next few years off her ‘delectable’ and ‘delightfully carnal’ body.