“Very clever,” he admitted sourly. “But what sort of courier would this body make? And what makes you so sure that I’ll transfer the right information?”
“Well, you will be trained, of course, both in the uses of the body and in courier technique. You will be used locally, basically between Agon and Clopta through Lilblod. The system itself is simple. There is a specific version of the drug you are on. To survive, you will have to make your assignations, for only they will have it. If any of them find out later that you gave false or incorrect or even incomplete information, they will notify someone and they might well forget your dose. As for finding your way, it will take practice, but you will find that your senses of smell and hearing are incredibly acute. You will learn to follow days-old scents and interpret a vast number of sounds. As most of your route will be through dense forest at night, sight is of little use anyway. The drug will motivate you and ease your pain and exhaustion. Your digestive system can handle most of the ground-level plants of Lilblod. Save for an insignificant amount of the drug you need, you are, shall we say, cost-free and maintenance-free labor.”
“Yeah, well these breasts are going to cause no end of trouble in the woods.”
“They are tough, and you will get used to them. In addition to supplying your absent clotting factor, they can carry enough food in the form of fat and water to allow you, if need be, to exist for a week or more eating and drinking nothing, so if something happens and you fall behind, you can skip food and water to make up time. You also have a small pouch of which I’m quite proud. It will hold small microencoded materials and even carry the receiving code and frequency for you. It will, however, dissolve such material in gastric juices if you are very late getting your dosage. Withdrawal, in other words, triggers it, so even if you are captured, nothing will be learned.”
“You must have studied hard to think up things like this.”
The doctor ignored the comment. “Food and drink will be necessities, but they consist of raw leaves and grasses and water—only water will really do—and they’ll taste pretty much like what they are. Anything else will make you sick. You won’t have much in the way of conversations or companionship, obviously, and you are as asexual as a machine. We were able to locate and neutralize the actual sexual center in your brain. You can’t have sex, do not and will not want it, won’t even fantasize about it; indeed, if we’ve done it properly, you won’t even be able to figure out why you or anyone else liked it in the first place. It boils down to this: The only thing, the absolute only thing that can and will stimulate your pleasure center is our little cube. Over time, as brain and body adjust, it will become your sole reason for existence and our sole expense. Perfect, are you not?”
“Yeah. Perfect.” Drug or not, I’ll kill myself at the first opportunity rather than live like that.
He seemed to anticipate the thought, “If you think of suicide, be sure you do it, because otherwise we’ll give you no cube at all for one full cycle…”
That was too much. He knew he’d never go through with it, couldn’t kill himself with that kind of threat.
They had won. All this way and the bad guys had won!
For the other captive it was possibly even worse.
At one time or another Mavra Chang had been put on or tried an enormous number of drugs, but nothing like rhapsody. Within minutes it seemed as if every pleasure center in her brain and body exploded in continuous delight while all else, everything else, faded into total insignificance. She knew she was still chained to the wall, but it just didn’t seem important, nor did it when they released her and she dropped to the floor. Everything, every touch, every move, was a new delight.
She was aware of others, of being asked questions and answering them, but it was of so little consequence, she didn’t even remember the specifics of the conversations. Darkness, light, colors, sounds, creatures moving around, all had their wonders and delights. She was being poked and probed and moved here and there, but none of it really mattered to her.
It was hard to say how long this lasted, but the coming down was very, very slow. Awareness outside of herself returned in dribs and drabs, shapes and creatures took on more realistic appearances, and things began to seem more logical. Even so, she remained high and knew she was, able to function but still somewhat bathed in a nice, soft, comfortable cocoon. Things being done seemed peculiar or even hilarious but caused no alarm.
By the time real rationality had returned and there was just a glow and slight lack of coordination, they had put her in a small padded cell. Her feet were free, but her hands were cuffed behind her back. Overcome at that point with a seemingly insatiable hunger and thirst, she found a pot of some cold liquid and three very large varicolored loaves of different things, what she couldn’t guess. The urge to eat and drink was just irresistible, even if she had to do it on her knees or prone, biting into the loaves as best she could and manipulating the container of liquid with only her mouth and neck. It tasted sweet and heavy with a kind of creamy aftertaste, something like buttermilk, and she managed to drink most of it while spilling only about a quarter, and that she found herself lapping up with her tongue. She had left nothing when she was done.
She now felt sleepy but tried to shake it off and think. That rhapsody was the most dangerous drug she’d seen since sponge. In fact, it might be an ancestor of just that for all she knew. She did know that she would be mentally incapable of turning it down if it were offered again, and that brought forth the first and primary fear. They had to give more to her! Nothing, absolutely nothing was of more importance to her than that. She’d kill her own friends and betray any trust to get it.
She knew she was hooked, on the line completely, but as much as she hated the thought and those who’d done it to her, she knew they’d accomplished what they had set out to do.
Why keep me locked up and shackled like this? There is no way I can leave this place. Not now.
But she was a new species for them, she realized, and they couldn’t be sure of her compliance or even positive that they’d gotten the dosage right. And they were probably scared of her, scared of the rumors about her possible powers. They would make very sure.
Within a few more hours she was in tears, hysterically banging her head against the padded door and begging, pleading, promising anything if they would just give her more and stop the torment. She hated them, hated their cold, callous way of treating her in this, hated Campos for what she’d done to her, hated herself for being so damned vulnerable, but it was horrible, awful… Far worse than heroin, which she’d managed to kick more than once. But the withdrawal pains hadn’t been nearly at this level. The waking nightmares, the hallucinations of every horror she’d ever lived through, the onrush of all the fear and pain she had ever endured…