The Mutilation Machination

Published by Deshca Press

Copyright © 2012 by Shaun Jeffrey

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of this author.

The Algae – first published in Premonitions #3

Sweet Music – first published in Midnight Echo #2

Not So Different – first published in MagusZine

Phantasmagoria – first published in Premonitions #1

The Mutilation Machination – first published in Premonition #4

Clockwork – first published in Wicked Karnival #7

The Neighbours from Hell

In Darkness – first published in Cemetery Dance #64

The Algae

Although only a two-hour continental shuttle hop from New
York to London, Richard Sheridan just wanted to check into the hotel
and go to sleep. But first he had to meet a client about a new pharmaceutical
contract.

He'd arranged to meet Mike Travers in the hotel bar, so he settled
down with a tumbler of whisky to wait … and wait. When Mike didn't show up, Sheridan took
the fax out of his briefcase, noted Mike’s room number, and rode the lift up to
the eighth floor.

The lift doors slid open and Sheridan stepped out into
the corridor. Counting the numbers on the doors, he made his way along the
passage – it was like counting sheep and he expected to fall asleep any minute.

When he reached Mike’s room the door was open, out of which
drifted a pungent coppery aroma. Sheridan knocked and called out,
"Mike, you here buddy?"

He didn’t receive a reply and so he walked into the room expecting
to find Mike asleep on the bed.

What he didn’t expect was to find him dead. He covered his mouth
with his hand and gagged. Mike was lying on the bed with a hospitality escort
crouched over his legs. The sheets around his body were sodden with blood, and,
even though she had bitten his penis off, the escort was still simulating oral
sex. The organ protruded from her latex lips like a grotesque lollypop.

The escort ceased her parody of bobbing for apples and looked
across at Sheridan. He had never found the sex aids very attractive; their
bodies looked too plastic – now he found them even more disgusting. The escort
opened her mouth to speak and the penis fell out like a dead fish.
"Welcome to the ..." she said, repeating the words in an electronic
loop. Blood dripped down her chin and coated her synthetic breasts in a red
sheen.

Richard gagged and the contents of his stomach made an unwelcome
appearance.

The Amazon rainforest was a temporal oasis. Blankets of steam rose
from the lush green fauna and the incessant drone of insects filled the air. At
his own request, Sheridan had been stationed out here for three
months, and yet he was still haunted by images of Mike lying on the bed with
the short circuited escort. No matter how far he travelled, it seemed the
nightmare followed.

He dabbed his forehead and neck with an already sodden
handkerchief and exhaled a hot sigh. The heat was unbearable.

A dense curtain of foliage barred his path, and he hacked it apart
with a machete and stepped through. The empty specimen bag banged against his
side. It was easy to imagine he had stepped back in time to a primordial age.

So far he had collected little of use for the pharmaceutical
company he worked for. There were a couple of unrecorded species of plant which
required further investigation, but nothing that seemed beneficial. Not that he
was overly concerned.

A bird took flight overhead, disturbing the foliage. Richard
looked up. Dappled sunlight filtered through the green canopy; it would soon be
dark so he had to start thinking about making his way back to camp.

There was no sign of the bird that had taken flight, and he was
about to look away when he noticed a patch of vivid green algae on the branch
of one of the trees. He wouldn't have taken much notice except when the light
struck the algae, it seemed to change colour, turning almost flesh-like in
tone.

Intrigued, he set his specimen bag down and took out a few tools.
Located on a high branch, the algae required a climb to reach it, and by the
time Richard had scrambled up the tree, the sun was sinking. Luckily, he had a
small torch clipped to his belt. Sitting straddled across a branch, he turned
the torch on and shone it at the algae.

Immediately the algae changed from green to flesh coloured. He had
never seen anything like it, and he wondered whether it was a unique form of
photosynthesis. Using a small knife, he sliced a sample of the algae off and
held it to the light. Nothing happened. He'd expected it to change colour.

As both his hands were full, he slipped the torch between his
teeth and then touched the algae he’d removed. He ran his finger across it,
surprised to find that while still warm, it felt like skin.

Wanting to feel the algae on the branch, he shuffled closer and a
thorn suddenly pierced his leg. He grimaced and the torch fell from his mouth.
He tried to grab it, but missed and the torch hit the branch. It bounced -
luckily he managed to catch it on its way back up.

When he looked at the torch, he saw the lens had broken, and
realising it was foolish trying to work while balanced up a tree, he sliced a
few more samples of the algae off the branch, dropped them into a specimen jar
and made his way back down to terra firma.

When safely on the ground, he wedged the torch between a vine and
the tree trunk and tipped the algae out of the jar into his hand. Angling it so
the light shone on it, he was disappointed to see there was still no change.
Perhaps he'd imagined it.

Exhaling slowly, he started to tip the algae back into the jar
when some samples spilled onto the torch. With the glass cover broken, it fell
onto the silver reflector and almost immediately he saw it start to solidify
into a lump of flesh coloured material. Picking the substance off, he held it
in the palm of his hand and stroked it.

It was incredible. The texture was remarkably skin-like. He peered
closely at it, and noticed what looked like pores across the surface.

After a couple of minutes, the substance became unstable and fell
apart as it turned back into green algae. Wondering whether it was just a
fluke, Richard tipped more algae onto the torch lens, smiling when he saw it
change once more.

Over the next few days, he collected more of the algae and
proceeded to experiment with it. He found it reacted to mild electrical
charges, and by using different voltages, he could manipulate it, changing its
thickness and colour.

Realising the possible value as an artificial skin, he kept his
work secret and started cultivating the plant life until he became quite the
green-fingered horticulturist.

The nightmare vision of Mike in the hotel room slowly faded, and instead
he started to dream about a new breed of escorts, ones so lifelike they were
indistinguishable from real people.

A few calls later, and he set up a meeting with an escort
manufacturer in Bangkok. He demonstrated the algae a week after, using a
prosthetic limb wired up to a battery. The owners of the company were amazed
how life-like and tactile the algae was, and plans were implemented to start
work on a new range of escorts.

Sheridan had never been happier.

Diffused sunlight filtered through the grimy basement window of
the Las Vegas, New Moon Hotel.

The door opened and Morgan Booker looked up from his files and
grimaced as the naked escort entered.

"Jesus, you've had a rough one, Michelle." He shook his
head and dropped the files on the desk. The escort's body was covered in
bloodless lesions, which he guessed were lash marks. "Sit on the chair and
I’ll have a look."

The escort walked across the room and sat on a plastic chair that
had a large hole in the seat. While he inspected her, the escort remained
impassive.

During his time at the hotel, Morgan had seen his fair share of
wounds, but these were probably some of the worst. Even though the escorts
weren't real flesh and blood, he couldn't imagine what sort of person got their
kicks doing this shit to them. For some reason, people seemed to treat the new
lifelike models worse than the old latex versions.

“Right, lets get you cleaned. Code C, release vaginal, anus and
mouth tubes.”

At his command, the flesh around the escort's orifices appeared to
curdle and three cylindrical tubes fell out, the anus one landing noisily on
the ground between her feet. The remaining holes of cratered flesh made the
escort look as though she'd been pierced by bullets.

 Morgan retrieved the tubes and held them up. “You have been
busy.”

The escorts looked so lifelike that to see them with their tubes
removed was an unsettling experience for most people, but Morgan was used to it
after so many years – the only thing that shocked him were the wounds people
inflicted.

“How's your energy supply?”

Despite having no lips now the skin had peeled back to allow the
tubes out, Michelle could still reply (it made punters feel better to see lips
moving in time with the words, but it wasn't necessary as she had an inbuilt
electronic voice box). “Energy’s at seventy percent.” When she spoke, her voice
sounded seductive, designed to thrill.

“OK, I'll give you a quick boost.”

As he busied himself coupling the plug to her neck, a naked male
escort entered the room.

“Been busy, Karl?” Morgan asked.

“I'm running low on ejaculation fluid,” he replied in a husky
voice. He sat on a seat next to Michelle.

“So that's one for a wash, and the other for some more juice. You
guys don't half keep me busy.” Morgan whistled while he worked. His job description
of 'Escort Service Agent' sounded grand, but the reality was that he cleaned up
other peoples mess. He often likened it to people who ate meat: if they had to
kill the animal first, they would probably turn vegetarian, and if they had to
clean out the escorts, they wouldn't want to sleep with them.

Morgan inserted Michelle's mouth tube and her skin folded down
around it. She puckered her lips a few times as if testing them.

“Right,” Morgan said, “we’d better repair Michelle. If you both
stand up and embrace, I’ll up Michelle’s charge.”

The two escorts stood up and hugged each other. Morgan turned a
dial to increase the charge and after a couple of seconds, their algae skin
began to meld them together. Wherever they joined, they fused. Their faces
became inseparable, giving them a grotesque appearance, and their arms and
torsos melted into each other.

Morgan had only discovered their ability to join by accident – but
as a result he noticed if they’d had any lesions, they were gone when the
escorts separated.

He clapped his hands together in front of his face and watched
them for a while as they performed their bizarre embrace. The artificial skin
stretched thin enough between them he was able to see the transparent torso
underneath.

“OK, that's long enough. You can separate now.” He watched as they
started to pull apart, but then he noticed something within Michelle's
transparent torso.

“Stop,” he screamed. “Hold on a minute, there's something strange
here.” He leaned forward and put his hands on Michelle's shoulders. There was
definitely something foreign hanging between the electronic components.

The escorts stood still, the flesh stretched taut between them.

“Michelle, run an internal scan.”

“All systems are functioning,” she said.

Morgan licked his lips. “Give me a data check on any unknown
objects found.”

“All systems functioning,” she repeated.

“Christ, do I have to spell it out. What's that object inside your
torso?”

“It’s an autogenic embryo.”

“You what?”

“I'm pregnant,” she said.

“You're what?”

“Pregnant,” she repeated.

Morgan took a deep breath. “That's impossible. Run another
diagnostic.”

“I don’t need to run another diagnostic. Asexual reproduction of
the algae has been disrupted by the introduction of human sperm, resulting in
cross-fertilisation.”

“Holy shit!” Morgan collapsed into one of the chairs. “This can't
be happening.” He massaged his temples and his fingers came away slick with
sweat. “Are there any other pregnant escorts?”

“All of those who copulate with men.”

“Jesus wept, that could be all of you then.” He stared at the
embryonic sack suspended inside her torso. “How long before, you know, it's
born?”

“Aided by the electric stimulus used to mould the algae, the birth
is imminent.”

“Why … I mean, how can a man fertilise a bloody plant? It's not
possible.”

“The symbiosis of the organisms is to a mutual advantage. The
sperm needed to fertilise an egg, and the algae needs to spread.”

“So you mean they've helped each other?”

“Yes.”

“Bloody hell, this is crazy. I can’t deal with this … This is
serious. We've got to stop it.”

Michelle and Karl stared dispassionately at him through their
combined features.

Morgan couldn't believe it. There were 48 escorts in the New Moon
Hotel alone, and combined with others around the world, there must be hundreds
of thousands of them. Since the discovery of the algae flesh, escort sales had
gone through the roof.

He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a packet of
cigarettes. His hands shook as he lit one. He took a couple of puffs and
exhaled a wispy umbilical cord that momentarily attached him to the cloud
hovering above his head.