Free A Dragon at the Gate (The New Aeneid Cycle Book 3) by Michael G. Munz Page B

do is turn some lights on. Maybe some balloons. Streamers. Big banner that says, ‘Happy Mind-Fuck, Felix!’ Something like that.”
    “A waste of resources,” she answered. “You will not remember this.”
    “I remember every damned time you’ve done it! It’s like I’m walking around in a dream and then you hit me with it and wake me up to the nightmare.” And every single time it was a kick to the gut. No matter how many times he was allowed to remember what was going on, to remember everything she’d made him do and then made him forget about, he never got used to it.
    “It is necessary. Have you delivered the previous suspension to the Easy Jack?”
    No, he wanted to say. I threw it in a fire. I buried it in a hole. I told New Eden what’s really going on here! The words crashed and burned on the way to his lips, and all that stumbled out was. “Yes.”
    “And you have retrieved the results?”
    “Got them here.” He waved the chip. “Do you want it in the usual port, or can I drop it in a shredder? Shredders are remarkably useful for retrieving data these days. Mixes it all up, puts it in interesting creative new orders. Won’t be accurate anymore, but ya know, a million monkeys working at a million typewriters. You might get Shakespeare.”
    “Your joking wastes time.”
    “Oh, am I wasting your time? I’m so very sorry! My deepest apologies, most honored mistress-who–is-not-remotely–manipulative-in-ways-that-make-me-want-to-vomit-and-bang-my-head-against-the-wall. Truly, I am shamed and must ask your forgiveness.” Felix began a deep bow.
    “Place the chip in the port,” she ordered.
    Felix’s body moved so fast to abort the bow and comply that he pulled a muscle. He slid the data chip home into a blinking port on the console, then stepped away as soon as he could, rubbing his lower back. “Jackass.”
    She ignored the rebuke, seeming to prefer to wait as the chip surrendered its data. “You will return to Northgate with the new suspension. You will transfer the suspension to the Easy Jack for a continuance of testing, as you have done previously.”
    “Yeah, won’t that be fun. These are people, you know! You can’t just use them like—”
    “Do not speak.”
    Felix snapped his jaw shut and nipped the tip of his tongue in the process. He rushed toward the screen, fists raised. Smash it, destroy it! Inches away, he stopped himself. What was the point? It was just a screen. His nails dug into his palms instead. He tasted blood from the bite on his tongue. Just a little longer and then she would let him leave. Then she would let him forget. Bloody hell!
    “You must obey. Your protests have no purpose.”
    Not for you , Felix thought, even though she wouldn’t hear him. At least he still had that.
    “There is one further task you must undertake upon your return to Northgate.”
    Felix gritted his teeth and listened.

 
X
    “TOUCHDOWN.”
    Marette rested her fingertips on the switch’s plastic flip cover, a gesture that was half anticipation, half caution. Her thumb traced the bottom of the cover at the sound of the gantry’s contact with the outer hull. Couplers whirred into place. The vibrato hum of the shuttle’s engines sputtered, and then ceased. She opened the flip cover and fingered the switch beneath it.
    “Gantry secured,” said the pilot. “Onboard systems at minimal power, awaiting release from stealth mode.”
    She flipped the switch. “Stealth mode released.”
    The pilot flipped one of his own. Lights across the two-person cockpit dropped from dim to black. “Commencing total system shutdown. Docking complete. Welcome back to the Omicron Complex, Chief.”
    Marette gazed upon a sight she had last seen from the cockpit of a European Space Agency shuttle during the space agency’s evacuation. The Omicron Complex appeared much as it had when she had left: a mostly single-story collection of pre-fabricated structures, partially camouflaged by the lunar soil. The