Chapter 10

I’m in a bad fucking mood all day as we ride through the forest. It doesn’t help that we got an alert to say there had been a breach, so we’re all tense and on high alert. My fight with Ash didn’t help my mood when it served to remind me why he’s at the top. To be brutally honest, there is not one among us who doesn’t have a chip on his shoulder and rails against the prospect of anybody beating us down.

But we can’t all be at the top. And we form a hierarchy out of necessity because it’s the only thing keeping us from spinning out of control. Units. Someone to have your back and who you bond with.

Isla is quiet in front of me. She eats when I give her a ration pack, and drinks when I pass the canteen. It’s a lot, I get that. I’m not pushing her today. I’ve already done more than was advisable, but here we are. I can’t take it back. Coming over her, the fight, making her sit at the table where the other girl was with Ash.

A part of me is disappointed that she hasn’t revealed, even though it’s for the best, because revealing soon would be bad where Isla is concerned.

I need to wait. We all need to wait.

Only, waiting is fucking hard.

99.99%.

I have never seen a score that high. Mitchel was bragging on the last run when one showed 92%. So this is unprecedented, and I’m glad that Ash is taking point on the operation.

I’m still fucking impatient.

It has been five years since that innocuous health check came through the team and informed seven players that there was something in our blood work that would require further monitoring. I didn’t think anything about it at the time. They were constantly checking our health and taking our blood for one thing or another.

The doctor who spoke to us afterward said they’d found a genetic marker that indicated some positive health benefits. They were in the early stages of research and would tell us more as they learned.

I forgot about it. We were coming to the end of the season, and things were getting hectic.

A month later, after we missed the playoffs by an inch, the team administrator called me and said the research center wanted to do a full day of testing.

I went along, imagining that I’d be hooked up to monitors and put through my paces on a treadmill. Afterward, I’d been poked, prodded, and liberated of samples of every kind, including blood.

Another check-up, right? Only it wasn’t just another check-up.

The foyer of the research center is plush with soft neutral tones and an expanse of windows overlooking landscaped grounds.

Whatever their research is yielding is lucrative.

A woman in a smart business suit and killer heels arrives to greet me within minutes of me sitting down. “I’m Juliet,” she says, smiling. “I’ll be your consultant today.”

She’s hot. Like off the charts fucking hot. Red hair in long bouncy waves and tits that fill out her sensible business blouse. Showing just a hint of cleavage—enough to tempt without full-on distracting. She smells really good, and her eyes are a kind of brilliant blue that has a mesmerizing effect.

Classy and intelligent.

I like to punch above my weight, so to speak, and I’m not shy about making the first move if I’m attracted to someone, yet her polished grace and air of sophistication feel way out of the league of poor kid-turned-pro ice hockey star.

As she shows me into the consulting room with more windows overlooking the grounds, I’m still thinking about fucking her, about lifting that neat skirt and bending her over her minimalist desk.

I zone out as she tells me about the prestigious research program, the company’s hopes, and aspirations. Like I give a fuck.

“… next stage of human evolution…”

I blink a few times, getting my head back in the game. “That’s pretty wild,” I offer. I sound fucking lame, but, still, she did just drop human evolution into the conversation. As much as I’d like to delude myself I’m something special, I know I’m just a guy with natural athleticism. Someone who trained fucking hard because training hard meant sponsorship, and that led to a decent home and lifestyle for my folks guilty of nothing more than a rough health run with my little sister that raked up a lot of fucking debts, even after they’d sold our home and moved into a cheap rental.

“It is.” She smiles.

I’m playing catch-up with the stuff I zoned out on. “And the procedure will trigger this super gene?”

“Exactly. It locks onto attributes already present in your DNA—strength, stamina, heightened concentration. These are the areas we expect to see change.”

“And other changes?” Who doesn’t want to be a better version of themselves? It sounds almost too good to be true. And I suspect there is more to this: she is not telling me everything.

“Classified until you sign the disclaimer. But you have nothing to fear.” Her smile is warm. “No one has complained. Far from it.”

She is so fucking gorgeous, and whatever perfume she is wearing is messing with my focus. “And the risks?” There has to be a catch, right?

“Our testing is extremely accurate when identifying candidates—a one hundred percent success rate. Your last blood work was within the right threshold. The equipment here offers greater accuracy, so we can confirm the markers are good. Rest assured, we hold the highest standards of patient safety and have been approved by the government and the medical board. At this stage, there is no sense in taking risks. Unless you’re a perfect fit, we won’t go any further today. With your permission, I’ll go ahead and perform the final check. So long as that’s positive, we can move forward.”

There are a lot of words there that go over my head, but I get the gist, and I really want to be a good fit, the right candidate, and all that. No risks and health benefits—sign me up. “Great. I’m in.”

“Wonderful. Let’s get that final test done.” She opens a drawer and extracts a small black box, which she places on the surface. There is a tiny glass plate on my side, and on the side facing her, I catch a glimpse of a readout panel. “Please place your thumb on the plate.”

“No needles and blood?” I put my thumb on the plate.

“Not necessary at this stage. This innocent little box contains groundbreaking technology that can sample DNA.” A green light appears on the top. “You can remove your thumb now.”

“The green is good, I’m guessing.”

“Outstanding, actually.” She beams. “Ninety-five percent in the classification we’re seeking. Anything over eighty is guaranteed. Sixty to eighty is also highly likely, but we are not progressing with them at this stage.”

“But you will get to them?” I ask, feeling elated that my reading was so high. Outstanding, she said.

“For certain. But there is a process to be followed.”

Her choice of words gives me a weird feeling that they’ve been doing this for a while, which makes me uneasy for reasons I can’t put my finger on.

She reaches for the data tablet on the desk, tapping away before turning it to face me. “Take your time to read through the disclaimer. I’ll go and prepare the room for you. If you have any questions, we can go through them when I return.”

She slips through a door off to the side that I only notice now, leaving me alone.

Is this something they have tested in other domes? It’s not like we move around much. Still, if they have been following this process in other domes, that means our dome is behind, and I don’t want to be behind.

I read the first few points and then quickly skim the rest. All standard stuff about not suing them if I trip and break my neck in an unrelated event. Refreshingly brief and free from jargon. I scribble my digital signature in the box just as she returns to the room.

“All done? Any questions?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Excellent. Please come through.”

I’m not sure what I expected to be waiting for me on the other side, but the sturdy metallic chair that’s built into the floor catches me by surprise. The side and back are solid and flush with the floor. The back is high and shaped for a headrest. The straps at the ankles and wrists are what has me freezing in my tracks.

She turns and smiles at me. The part of me that wants to back up and get the fuck out of there goes meek as she slips her hand into mine and guides me to the chair.

Is that inappropriate? I remember a nurse with steel-gray hair patting my hand soothingly the last time I ended up in the hospital, but this feels different.

“The top will need to come off.”

Taking my clothes off in front of medical people of all kinds doesn’t trouble me, and I work my way down the buttons. As it slides over my shoulders, her eyes track its movement.

She takes the button-down from me and drops it over a hook in the wall beside the door. The room is largely empty save for the desk sporting a single console and a large industrial cooler on the opposite wall.

I sit down.

She hasn’t strapped me in yet, but I can’t take my fucking eyes off those black Velcro straps.

“What’s with the chair?”

“Just a precaution,” she says, returning to my side. “Today, I will administer the first dose. Sometimes, candidates need more. Given your score, you will likely notice the effects immediately. The more dramatic the response, the greater the changes. So, even if you feel… uncomfortable, it won’t last long. In fact, it’s a good sign.”

This isn’t another test, nor is it pre-work. She intends to do the procedure right now. I don’t like the way she skipped a beat over uncomfortable. Warning bells are going off, but I also don’t want to look like a fucking pussy. I take a hammering on the ice every game and get up and do it again. I can handle whatever this is. Soon, everyone is going to be getting this. In the later stages, she said. Who doesn’t want to get ahead of the curve? It has been approved by the government and the medical board. I’d be an idiot to walk out now.

She indicates the right wrist strap. “I’ll take them off as soon as the reaction passes. A few minutes at the most.”

I move my arm into place. She is efficient, securing the Velcro and moving on to my left hand before she bends to secure my right ankle and then left. My cock jerks. Her head is level with my crotch, and my mind strays in directions it shouldn’t.

“There.” As she rises, her blouse parts and I get a nice view of her cleavage. Her hand rests over mine against the armrest, lingering, stroking the skin lightly before she walks over to the medical cooler, her heels clicking against the tile floor.

Why is there a tile floor?

I blink a few times, trying to clear my head and get focus off my dick and back on what is about to go down.

She returns to my side with a prepared syringe in her hand. Quick and efficient, she administers the dose before I can voice my clamoring concerns.

What about those other effects? The ones she said she would share after I signed the disclaimer?

My arm feels unexpectedly warm as she extracts the needle and puts a tiny plaster over the site.

“Anything?” she asks.

“I feel warm,” I admit.

“That’s a good sign.” Heels click again as she returns to the fridge and drops the used syringe into a yellow plastic tub.

As she returns to my side, sweat pops out across my brow. “I’m really hot.”

She leans right over me, her tits up in my damn face as she reaches behind my head. “Open.”

I don’t know what she means until I see the thick plastic mouthguard. I open my mouth. As soon as it’s in, my head is snapped back to the headrest as she tightens two more of those straps, this time they connect the mouthguard to the back of the chair.

A sense of vulnerability swamps me.

Then my eyes roll back, and spasms tear through my body.

An animalistic grunt is muffled by the mouthguard as I convulse. I’m boiling from the inside out, my skin in flames, and my pulse skyrocketing. I’ve busted my nose more than once, broken numerous fingers, cracked ribs, and been lacerated by skates, so I’m no stranger to pain, but the agony that pummels me now is on a different scale.

My fingers clench into fists, and I strain against the straps. My vision turns so blurred I can’t see a fucking thing.

Am I dying? What the fuck has she just pumped into me?

A second wave of heat rolls through me, and sweat pops from every pore of my skin.

Then the convulsing subsides as swiftly as it came, and I slump in the chair, air whistling in and out of my nose.

I glare at the bitch.

She smiles. “An impressive reaction.”

Impressive is not the first word that comes to my mind.

I’m not ready when the second wave hits me. I feel like my eyeballs rattle inside my skull, and I strain against the bindings so violently I wonder if the straps will hold.

They hold.

My chest is heaving. I can’t fucking see at all, just a red haze.

Fire.

I’m on fucking fire.

And then I’m freezing, shivering, teeth chattering against the guard.

I blink the tears from my eyes, the white room with the tile floor returning to focus.

She waits… Probably checking for another reaction.

Long minutes pass. The pain peters out, and my ragged breathing evens.

I’m so fucking destroyed that I don’t even check out her tits when she leans in to release the straps holding the mouthguard in place.

“Am I dying?” I croak.

“No,” she says. “You’ve just taken to the virus incredibly well.”

Virus? No one mentioned a virus.

Her eyes look… bright. Not just her eyes; her hair is extra glossy, and so many shades of red.

A fresh wave of heat passes through me, but this one is different, edgy. It reaches straight down to my balls and draws them up tight. My cock jerks as blood surges into it. Her scent slams into me.

It smells like the promise of hot sex, and it’s crawling under my skin.

I shake my head, trying to pull myself out of the stupor I’m in. I’m still trying to process what is happening as she steps closer.

She’s staring at my crotch, like, really staring at it. And then her hand is there, pressing against it. My dick flexes again. “What the fuck are you doing?” Why the fuck am I questioning this?

Her eyes lift to mine.

“This is a natural reaction,” she says. “May I?”

Fuck! Is she? What the fuck is she going to do?

I nod.

She sighs happily. An honest-to-God sigh of contentment as she undoes my belt and eases down my zipper.

I’m still strapped in, and I can’t lift my ass very far, but I do the best I can. Too fucking impatient to even ask about the straps.

She drags my pants and underpants down. My cock springs free, and she opens up her mouth and swallows me to the root.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

My hips jerk up. I’m seeing stars. God, that feels so good. Her scent washes over me. Her hot, wet mouth is working my length just right, and her hands are moving against my skin in light caresses that leave a trail of arousal in their wake.

“Jesus! That’s so fucking good.”

It’s so amazing, it’s like I’ve never been blown before.

She hums around my cock, taking me into her throat, and I know I can’t hold off.

I come hard, hips jerking erratically and thoughts blanked out by the rush of ejecting cum.

“God! Fuck!”

My breathing is labored, and I can’t think for shit until I finally touch down. Her lips pop off my spent cock. “I think I’m broken.”

She rises, wiping her thumb across her lips before sucking it into her mouth and managing to look elegant while doing it.

“Jesus, woman. Are you trying to kill me?”

My dick jerks again.

She smiles and bends down, giving me another shot of her cleavage—I don’t even try to resist looking as her sensible white blouse parts a little. She unstraps one ankle, then the other, before rising and releasing my wrists.

I don’t move; I just let it play out. My dick’s so fucking hard, and it’s just jerking there between us, pulsing pre-cum over my belly, making a wet, sticky patch.

Her eyes are on mine. They’re definitely glazed. Aroused. My gaze lowers to her breasts. I can see her nipples poking through her blouse. She shifts subtly, rubbing her thighs together.

She’s getting off on this as much as I am. She said it was a normal reaction.

I get up faster than I would have thought possible, and have her face down over the desk, her skirt up, and her panties down by her ankles.

There, I pause. She hasn’t said no, but my lips still curl up as I mutter, “May I?”, repeating her question back to her.

“Yes, please.”

I hear the desperation in her voice—I like it.

My dick is in my hand, I line up, and I’m buried deep.

We both groan. I can feel her hot, tight walls pulsing around my length as I slam roughly in and out, making the table bang about.

She pushes back. “Yes. Harder.”

I take her like I’ve never taken a woman before. I’m a big man. I’m strong, and I’ve always been mindful of that. But she said harder, and damn if I’m not a gentleman about giving a lady what she needs. I unleash, holding her hips in a bruising grip as I pound into her.

She comes. I’d never known a woman come that fast. I’ve barely touched her.

I don’t stop. I’m possessed by the devil himself, and my cock is the instrument of her demise.

The horse plods on. We are closing in on the next base.

I haven’t thought about the research center and the woman I met there in a long time.

Later, when I came down from the high, I realized there was so much more to what had happened than being given a recently approved enhancement drug.

I realized I was never going back home, never going to see my friends or family again, never going to play another game of ice hockey.

I revealed as an alpha.

The woman they sent to initiate me was an omega.

Our planet and everyone on it was being assimilated into a new era of humanity, thanks to a virus—the Copper virus.

One day, in the not-so-distant future, I’ll get to see my friends and family, but it’ll be on the other side of their viral awakening.

It can take many years to fully assimilate a planet. I didn’t even know that other inhabited worlds existed when I walked into the room, nor much about the other domes on my own planet.

I learned a lot over the coming weeks and months.

About how the virus was leaked onto the first world and subsequently unleashed on the next few in a rush as opposing factions quickly formed.

Those first planets suffered terrible atrocities, sinking into anarchy until stability was found. We are a later wave, an established process of assimilation where they scorch the earth, segregate the population, and suppress information, decades before they arrive and release the virus in stages. A part of me felt cold and sad for the ignorance I left behind that day.

I was now part of a war.

One side sought to spread the virus as far and wide as possible.

The other side sought to eliminate the virus and everyone it had touched.