Crimson Rain

By

Tex Leiko

World Castle Publishing

World Castle Publishing

Pensacola, Florida

Copyright ©
Tex Leiko 2012

ISBN:
9781938243721

First Edition World Castle Publishing
July 1, 2012

http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com

Licensing Notes

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

Cover:
Leslie Parawan

Editor:
Brieanna Robertson

I would like to dedicate this book to all of my friends and family that have ever supported my imagination and creativity. To my best friend, one who is like a brother to me
. Y
ou know who you are, Zarfa. To my real brother for being there for all the hard times in my life. To my parents for doing their best. Finally, last but definitely not least
,
t
o a great editor, author
,
and an even better friend, Brieanna Robertson A.K.A
Crimson. May you always find success in life and know that you had a large part in getting me to this stage
.
T
hat effort will never be forgotten.

Psyker Scream

“
It requires a series of injections, five to be exact. The needles
necessary
for each round are fourteen gauge; you would think
that
they would have made
them like most bots on the market. Other bots you can just swallow
,
or inject with
something a whole lot smaller, but no,
despite all of the
modern technology
available, they
still
ask
me to skewer
some of
your large
r
veins with a needle the size of a steak knife.

“
Each round of the nanobot injections requires at least thirty minutes of your time still. You can
’
t move while the needle is in your arm; if it slips out of the vein then the bots spill all over the dermis, or worse yet, the needle re-punctures you but strikes muscle, or worse yet, bone! Do you know what happens when these bots are injected into your bone? It isn
’
t pretty,
”
the doctor said dryly to Zarfa.
“
You know, you youngsters don
’
t think of this when you come in here and ask me to do this to you… Psyker Screams, right...right. Right? Well, let me see your arms,
”
he said from underneath his white paper mask.

The doctor looked Zarfa up and down his right and left arm. He was spindly; his torso was average, lean,
and
hairless except a small patch that grew between his nipples. His skin was white—not snow white, more of a grayish white. His legs stretched down, the femur much longer than average. Even when he wore jeans it was noticeable. His feet matched his femur in that the meatus of the foot was enlarged, but the toes were average. His arms were long; he had a reach that nobody could imagine. In his years of life, he
’
d learned a posture to disguise it, but the tips of his fingers came to his patella. His body, though being lean, wasn
’
t anything remarkable aside from his odd proportions.

His blue eyes stared into the doctor
’
s as he made his reply.
“
Psyker Screams. Yes, that
’
s it… I am sure you are getting tired of seeing
‘
us kid
s
,
’
but please… Even if I
’
m the last…I am willing to sign whatever waivers you have
.
G
ive me the bots, please?
”

The doctor took a deep breath and held it; the world could have stopped spinning in the time it took for him to release it. Finally, he did. As his breath extruded from his lungs, the lenses of his glasses fogged from the hot steam being caught by his mask. He paced about two steps toward Zarfa then stepped back, tapped his toe, and spun around, grabbing his clipboard.

“
Yes, yes. I really am sick of you! I opened this clinic to help people. Instead, I get all of you!
”
The doctor seemed to yell, but it was strictly exasperation.

He
didn
’
t dislike his patients, even if they were silly rave kids, in his eyes, but he
’
d opened this clinic twenty years ago in the hopes to really make a difference. And now what was he doing? He didn
’
t even know. Sure, he would occasionally diagnose a disease, make a few treatments…or sometimes save a life, but that was rare. Sure, he kept people well when they came in with the sniffles; a lot of his clients were of the lower class who couldn
’
t afford nanobot immuno-boosts. He would do the rudimentary tests, diagnose
with
what many would refer to as a
“
third world disease,
”
write them an affordable prescription, or if they were really destitute, give them free samples and send them on their merry way. He was making a difference in his community, sure
…

But what bothered him were these rave kids. They all had the same story; they all wanted the same thing. The bots he would put into them were a high risk and had no practical application. They were expensive. The first time a kid had come in and asked for them, he
’
d shooed
him
out of the office, told
hi
m he was here to make a difference, to help, and then balanced his checkbook. By the time the fifth one came in waving a wad of cash in his face, his only reason for turning her down was that he didn
’
t have the goods; he began to re-think his outlook.

Sure, he was here to make a difference, but if one didn
’
t turn a profit then one c
ouldn
’
t stay in business. If a person couldn
’
t stay in business, they couldn
’
t help. It was a vic
ious cycle. So, on the fifth patient
, he told her,
“
Come back in two weeks and I will have what you need.
”
With a grin and a wink, he took out a loan, and the rest was history.

But that was five years ago. He was still treating the poor and making a difference, but these kids kept coming in, and what for? He
’
d
t
aken
an oath—do no harm. Was he? He couldn
’
t understand. He hated
that
they would take the risk. He knew that twenty percent of them had died while his palms were greased with their cash, untraceable.

It was good for him… It was good for his community; he was helping… He was. That
’
s what his mind told him, but his demons wouldn
’
t let him sleep. This was the last one, he told himself as he handed Zarfa the clipboard with the waivers and consents all attached. Even if twenty percent died and he felt guilt, he wasn
’
t stupid; those papers would keep him out of jail.

“
Be sure to read every bit of both sides,
”
muttered the doctor as Zarfa, as if without thought, began signing every dotted line with haste.
“
Don
’
t you understand what you are doing to your body?
Don
’
t you understand the pain you will feel as the bots mutate and transform your acoustic nerve endings and rewrite your brain to understand those insane high frequencies?
Don
’
t you get it? That last paper explains if you stop the injections early, you will go deaf!
”

“
Please stop yelling.
”
Zarfa was cool, calm, and spoke as if he had the authority.

“
It
’
s
so much pain…
And what for? A shitty band.
”

Zarfa began to take deep breaths and tried to shut down his emotions; he tried to go numb. Pain… It was something he was all too familiar with. How was the doctor to know?
“
I am well aware of pain, Dr. Hall. Pain you probably couldn
’
t imagine,
”
he
said as his mind began to wander.

Thoughts flooded him of his homeland in the city of Ilyeion
, which
had been founded about seventy-two miles to the south of the old world
’
s Baghdad. Despite the fact that Muslim culture was all but dead, some things remained very much the same. Merchants and vendors lined the streets of Ilyeion, selling their goods and wares.

In the bazaars, one could buy anything from a slave to a molded protein simulation of an apple to the most advanced weapons. Ilyeion had beauty and wonder, but it also had a darkness to it. Despite the darkness, it was Zarfa
’
s home. He was a long way f
rom it in the city of Alexandria
, cap
itol to the country of Alexariean
. His plan was to attend to business then return to Ilyeion as soon as he could.

The night
that made him leave
, that made him into who he now
was, t
hat
was the pain he envisioned as the doctor grilled him with questions. On that night, the winds were heavy. No storms were predicted, no orders placed, yet the sky grew black with clouds. Clouds of wasps, none of which had ever been known before the era of
G
reat
E
xtinction. These wasps had been genetically created from the
DNA
of a common mud wasp that inhabited the Middle Eastern region. However, they were extremely altered.