Ultraxenopia (Project W. A. R. Book 1) by M. A. Phipps Read Free Book Online

Richter, only to find that he’s
watching me with rapt attention. He nods toward the hologram, and I lean in
closer, listening carefully.
    “The end,” I hear myself say in a
toneless voice. “The end . . . it’s coming.”
    I repeat this several
times. With each repetition, I feel my heart rate increasing as a fresh wave of
panic rushes through me. Why can’t I remember that happening? I remember
everything else, so why not that?
    My entire body reels back
when the version of me in the surveillance footage begins to scream at the top
of her lungs. I gape at her in horror, seeing the lack of control in her every
movement. Finally, she seems to come to her senses and runs from the room
almost immediately after.
    Dr. Richter reaches forward
and shuts off the device. The hologram disappears at once, and he stashes it
away before looking back up at me. His expression is unreadable, but I can see
the anticipation in his eyes. He says nothing, instead waiting for me to react.
    “That’s impossible . . . .”
I say again. It’s all I can manage.
    His lips pull up into a
tight smile. “Perhaps,” he muses. “However, the tests we’ve already run on you
show remarkable things. Things that, quite frankly, wouldn’t be possible if you
were normal.”
    I study him, wary of what I
now realize he’s about to say to me.
    “Nevertheless,” he
continues, his voice a soft purr, “we won’t know for sure until we run more
tests. I’d like your permission to do that.”
    I find it difficult to keep
myself from laughing. My permission? Like they ever need permission to
do anything.
    “Won’t you just do them
anyway, regardless of what I say?”
    “Yes,” he admits. “But I
prefer my subjects to be cooperative.”
    He smirks at me, and I
can’t help but catch sight of the terrifying glint in his eyes. It’s
alarming—just like his smile, which is noticeably more forced with each passing
second.
    He folds his hands again
and leans across the table, his voice now nothing more than a menacing whisper.
“You’d be providing a great service, not only to science, but to the State as
well.”
    I stare at him.
    Frightened.
    Confused.
    I can’t trust him. I know
that. But what other choice do I have? And, if I do cooperate . . . ?
    I nervously lick my lips.
They’re cracked and dry beneath my tongue, trembling along with the rest of my
body. Dr. Richter smiles once again, waiting patiently for me to speak.
    “If I cooperate . . . will
you let me go?” My voice is soft, just above a whisper, and my eyes are wide
with unrestrained hope. I watch him, eager to hear that single word. That one
simple word that will mean I can go home.
    He looks away from me as he
rises from his chair. The metal legs screech against the tiled floor, and he
doesn’t bother to replace it before walking over to the door. He pushes a small
button on the wall. Within a matter of seconds, the middle-aged man from before
reappears in the doorway.
    Dr. Richter turns and
smiles at me again, and I know without having to ask that our conversation is
over. He inclines his head toward me before exiting the room.
    As I watch him disappear
around the corner, I come to terms with the answer he refused to give me.
Because, the fact is, he didn’t have to say it. The silence said it for him.
    They will never let me go.

 
     
     
     
    I TAKE A DEEP BREATH. My heart is
racing, and every inch of my body is shaking. I blink nervously, watching as
the two female attendants strap me back down to the metal table. The reluctance
coursing through me is overwhelming, and I have to keep reminding myself that I
agreed to all of this. I agreed to let Dr. Richter run his tests.
    Any sane person would ask
me why. I’ve asked myself that very question more times than I can count. But
the truth is, even if I had a choice—even if I could’ve walked away, I
wouldn’t have. Because, deep down, I want to know what’s happening to me even
more than he does.
    I exhale. Out of