CyberpunkErotica by Ora le Brocq Read Free Book Online

pounded my ears.
    With another amazing explosion, I was satiated. Max and Sean both pumped their thick, sweet essence into me at the same time before we all sank down in a sweating, throbbing heap, kissing and smiling and laughing, all three satisfied, all three amazed at the power within our own bodies.

Chapter Ten
    I returned to reality with some regret.
    “It’s working!” shouted Anna. “She’s still alive! She’s somehow coping with the download and the alterations. Our theories were right!”
    I glanced over at her, accessing company records, security footage, school reports, all of which was now laid out before me as I penetrated and infiltrated the Neural Data Net and saw all things. I brought up her profile and scanned it.
    “Your theories?” I said, my voice a hoarse growl, angry at what was being done to me and in having to leave my two stallions behind in fantasy. “Your theories have mostly been wrong or incomplete. You have been carried by the better work of your colleagues.”
    Anna flushed in anger. I accessed a security camera and focussed on her face, so close I could see the flush of red mottling her cheeks one blood vessel at a time as the rage spread over her.
    “And what would you know of it?” she demanded.
    “Everything,” I replied. “Footage from security cameras five to eight, on the seventeenth of August, two months ago, shows the group discussing how to make the neural interface work with the data net. Breakdown of dialogue shows Doctor Robinson made the greater contribution, making thirty-three per cent of the suggestions. Professor Holloway came second with twenty-nine per cent. Andrew Garfield, thirteen per cent. Melissa Etherdige, eleven per cent. Taylor Mau, eight per cent. Your contribution—four per cent.”
    “It’s the quality that counts,” snapped Anna. “Without my idea to harmonise the data relay subroutine through the perception filters, the project would have stalled.”
    I scanned the appropriate files, suddenly understanding concepts and technology that before I had never even known existed. “Your idea was lifted from a journal you read online the day before. It was not your idea. Besides, without the team’s input, you would never have been able to implement the idea in a practical manner.”
    “It’s teamwork that made all this possible,” snarled Anna. “We all contribute!”
    “Overall contribution statistics to project Human Neural Interface,” I responded, analysing the years of data and research in seconds. “Doctor Robinson twenty-four per cent. Professor Holloway twenty-six per cent. Andrew Garfield, fifteen per cent. Melissa Etherdige, fourteen per cent. Taylor Mau, fourteen per cent. Contribution of Anna Grant stands at the lowest of six per cent.”
    “And what would a drone like you know about it?” screeched Anna. “What would you know about anything?”
    “Grant, Anna, born twenty-eighth of September, 2186, in Hounslow, an area classed as Grade Three in the social policy scale. Schooled at private corporation academy as mother worked for the company and got employee benefits. You may have been geographically on the street, Miss Grant,” I continued, sarcasm dripping from my words, “but you were on the safe edge of it.
    “You had a privileged upbringing and a good schooling with a company that immediately gave you a work placement, while others far cleverer than you were passed over because they were from the state system. Your claim to have pulled yourself up, to have made it on your own, a claim repeated some five hundred and twelve times over the five years you have worked for Vine, looks rather false now, doesn’t it? You were given opportunity after opportunity, yet you are only capable of clinging to the coat tails of your colleagues on this project. That is the truth of you, Miss Anna Grant.”

Chapter Eleven
    “You want to know truth?” hissed Anna, her face going even redder with rage. “I’ll show you truth!” She