Implant

By Liliana Marchesi

The second chapter of a Dystopian saga built on the belief that man knows about and uses only a fraction of the brain’s real ability. A saga in which heart and mind collide against a backdrop of unrest, passions, plotting, and extreme actions. A story that will shock you!

After being torn from a life that she believed hers, Kendall finds herself immersed in a world completely different from what she believed. And just as she was about to discover the origin of the bond between her and Trevor, the leader of the Orphans, a succession of unpredictable events forced them apart.

Kendall is now in the hands of Axel, who more than anyone want to resurrect her lost memories so that he can get hold of the information he desperately craves. But how will he convince her to cooperate?

What effect will the Root implant have on her?

Will the days spent at the Mind’s headquarters change her view on the Orphans?

Or will she do everything in her power to find a way to return to the Mausoleum and to Trevor?

Can you really lose yourself in someone else’s eyes?

Well, that’s what just happened to me.

Sucked into an ocean in which warm and cold currents swirl into an incredible blue giving life to a unique color, I was incapable of resurfacing. Or maybe I simply didn’t want to.

It was as if my soul had migrated towards that magnetic gaze and had no intention of returning.

Who was that man? And why was he staring at me with such an intensity I wanted to cry?
 

To find out more about the R.I.G. Saga and about the author herself, please stop by her website: www.lilianamarchesi.it

• Language: English
• Publisher: BadPress
• Release date: Apr 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781507141083

Book preview

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What makes us unique

is the freedom to be ourselves.

If they take that away...

we are then condemned to live

in the shadow of death.

––––––––

To my mother...

Who has started to love me when I had yet to exist, and who will love me even when both of us will no longer walk this Earth.

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Preface

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Assaulted by a group of Orphans.

Subjected to mind-torturing sessions that were intended to extract from my head important information about the Mind and the role played by my boyfriend in the System.

Abandoned, barely alive, on the operating table in one of their hiding places, thought dead.

And finally rescued and brought back home by my fiancée... Axel.

1. Manipulated

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I had not yet grown accustomed to the purity of the light that filtered into the bedroom every morning. The sunrays hit the large windows that opened up over the whole city, and then dispersed in the room as a golden hue. Some of them also came to tease my newly opened eyes.

It had been a couple of weeks since the attack, and the memory of what had happened faded more each day, giving me the impression that it was not real. The only clear image that my mind could conjure was Axel’s face bending over me when I finally got out from the comatose state in which I had fallen after the mental torture at the hands of the Orphans.

The coma had removed everything: I couldn’t recall the faces of those who had kidnapped me nor the mental attack sessions to which I had been subjected. But maybe it was better that way.

The strange thing, however, was that even the memories from before the abduction appeared blurred, elusive, almost insubstantial.

My only strong reference point, my balance, was Axel, although sometimes when I was alone with him and he touched me, I felt a strange feeling of... hatred towards him. As if being close to him was the last thing I wanted.

Axel, who had probably sensed my confusion and my state of mind, had explained to me that it was all because of what the Orphans had done to me. My Root was damaged by their mind games, and for it to heal I was forced to go to Dr. Hugh every morning so that he could inject me with Regenerating Serum.

With time, he had assured me, everything would be back to normal.

After allowing myself a moment to contemplate the infinity of the dark, typically autumn sky, I turned around to make sure that the other half of the double bed was empty.

Axel was already up, and most likely he had already left the apartment to go to work to the Security Center, and the fact that I felt relieved at the thought gave way to an annoying guilt.

In short, one should not be happy not to have her man beside her, but for me... it was so.

It was all because of my damaged Root and of the devastating consequences that this had on my mind.

A refreshing shower and a cup of coffee helped the last layer of numbness that sleep had left behind fade. Then, wearing a pair of blacks pants and a white blouse, I walked out of our apartment – mine and Axel’s – which was located on the 78th floor of what was once called the Empire State Building and was now the headquarters of the Mind, and I headed for the elevators.

Once inside, I pressed the button marked with the number 80 and the doors closed, leaving me face to face with my reflection in the mirror-like surface.

Looking at myself had become something unpleasant since I had awakened from the coma. My appearance was the same as always, but even so I felt different. My long brown curls with reddish highlights here and there framed my thin, tense face. My lips, seemingly soft, were almost completely pursed like I was about to explode with rage. And my eyes, a dark green, were striped with brown, as if my soul had been muddied.

To complete the picture – as if it weren’t depressing enough – there was also the constant feeling of being incomplete. As if I had forgotten something, or as if I was in the wrong place.

Luckily the elevator ride did not last long, and even if those feelings of inadequacy and discomfort would be stuck to me like a second skin, at least I was not forced to look at my reflection.

The 80th floor was the last level accessible to everyone. The remaining six floors of living space belonged to the five Heads of the Mind, who owned a floor each plus an additional floor common to all five. And of course no one could have access to them unless authorized.

I walked quietly down the hall. Now, after travelling down that route every morning for several days, I had lost interest in the closed doors, which always seemed like little soldiers standing up straight as I passed. Still, a part of me kept wondering what hid behind them.

There you are at last! Dr. Hugh peered from his laboratory. I was coming to find you. You woke up later than usual today, haven’t you Amanda?

If you have another appointment I can come back later, I said, pausing in the doorway.

But the Doctor, quite a handsome man in his forties with dark hair and a goatee, and strange glasses with rose-colored lenses, hurried towards me, placing his hand on my shoulder to force me to enter.

Absolutely not, Amanda! You know how important it is that you take the Regenerating Serum. If you skip a single session... who knows what damage you may cause to your mind. Irreparable damage.

I know that, Doctor. My boyfriend, Axel, does nothing but tell me all the time since I woke up from the coma, I mumbled, as if Axel’s pressing concern about my health annoyed me. And in a way it did.

Dr. Hugh, have you prepared me that mix that... A man with hair down to his shoulders suddenly burst into the lab while the Doctor was making me sit on a black chair placed next to a table full of strange vials and surgical instruments, and where a monitor would not stop projecting the symbol of the Mind: a tangle of golden curls that looked like a brain with the words MIND at the center and placed vertically. Have I interrupted some strange experiment or something? His words were addressed to the Doctor but his eyes were running back and forth on my face.

Mr. Russell, let me introduce to you Miss Johnson, Amanda Johnson. She is engaged Axel Collins.

The man to whom the Doctor had just introduced me to approached, holding out his hand for me to shake in greeting.

Colin, he said.

No, Collins, I corrected him. My boyfriend’s name is Collins.

For a moment his face seemed to be almost paralyzed, then a somewhat amused expression lit up her eyes. Colin, it is my name. Also, I know your boyfriend’s name well, seeing as he works for me.

At that moment, his fingers shook mine with an almost threatening strength, and I, who already felt deeply embarrassed for such a mistake with clearly one of the five Heads of the Mind, felt a strong urge to run away with my tail between my legs.

Forgive her, Mr. Russell. Miss Johnson is still recovering from a vicious attack. Her memories at the moment are a bit confused; otherwise she would have recognized you immediately, Dr. Hugh said.

I heard about what happened. Although I must admit that I had no idea that our Axel had a girlfriend. He must have kept her hidden because too beautiful. The man, wearing a stylish dress and a proud, almost arrogant carriage spoke as if I were not present, despite the fact that his eyes never left my face.

I think it would be difficult, even for one of the Heads of the Mind, to know every single person living in this building, I teased him, under the stunned gaze of Dr. Hugh. I couldn’t shut up after what he’d said. I wanted him to understand that his ‘compliment’ – if such a thing it was – had not been appreciated.

Knowing every single person maybe... He began adjusting the cuffs on his jacket. But every single woman, no, not hard at all for me.

Perhaps such a flirty attitude combined with an undeniable charm and the fact that he was one of the Heads of Mind (and therefore one of the masters of the world), had made for easy conquests, but if the age factor – he must have been at least twenty years older than me – was not enough to persuade him to leave me alone... I would.

Then I'm sure you are in a great hurry to go to them.

Amanda! Dr. Hugh scolded, hoping to shut me up.

No, Doctor, let Miss Johnson say what she wishes. In fact, why not set up an appointment for her with Miss Dorotea? I'm sure that after the terrible attacks she suffered it will be good for her to have a few sessions.

But Mr. Russell, Dr. Hugh started to object.

No ‘but’ Doctor! Do as I say. And do not forget that professional secrecy applies, as well as the one that ensures a long life. Mr. Colin had turned to Hugh, his back to me, but judging by the Doctor’s scared look and his difficulty in swallowing, Mr. Russell had confirmed with his eyes the threat – which was barely veiled at all – he had just pronounced.

As soon as Colin Russell left the lab, taking away the mixture for which he had come, the icy silence that had spread around Dr. Hugh began to melt.

Let’s start the session, he said flatly while preparing the syringe with which he would inject the Regenerating Serum into me.

Dr. Hugh, who is Miss Dorotea? I asked, certain that he would have understood that if I didn’t remember her it was only because of my damaged Root.

Dorotea is a... psychologist, he replied with some hesitation.

And why would one of the Heads of the Mind want you to send me to her? I’m okay. I haven’t suffered from emotional traumas, and my Root is getting better thanks to the Serum. Since I had awakened from the coma everything had appeared strange to me, as if I were living someone else’s life. But as soon as I’d heard of Miss Dorothy, an alarm had gone off in my head.

Amanda. The Doctor grabbed my arm gently, and without even disinfecting the area, he  hastened to prick my skin with the needle to inject the serum. Look into my eyes Amanda, he ordered.

I, slightly dazed by the liquid which announced his presence in my body with a severe dizziness, mechanically turned my gaze to the Doctor.

Once I met his brown eyes, still slightly hidden by the pink lenses, I was no longer able to blink. An almost imperceptible flicker brightened for an instant in the Doctor’s pupils and when he spoke, I had the impression that his voice came from my head instead of his mouth.

Your name is Amanda Johnson, and you're the girlfriend of Axel Collins. Two weeks ago, you were attacked by a group of Orphans. Axel saved you but the mental torture sessions to which you were subjected against your will have seriously damaged your Root. I'm trying to remedy with a Regenerating Serum, but as long as the Root will not heal completely, you will not remember any detail from your past. Your blind trust in Axel will be enough. The certainty of being safe with him will be enough. Tomorrow, after coming to me, you will go to Miss Dorotea, but you will not breathe a word of this to anyone, not even Axel. Now get up, and go back to your apartment.

2. A Bargaining Chip

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Dr. Hugh’s injections always left me a bit dazed. In fact, every time I went back to my apartment, along that short walk I was in a kind of trance.

It mattered little, however – the Regenerating Serum helped me to feel better. The discomfort I felt towards a life that I couldn’t feel entirely mine, the doubts about the feelings I felt for Axel, and the sense of insecurity that a phantom past unwilling to reveal itself left me with  dissolved into a soap bubble, washing away the sadness from my face.

Since I had awakened from my coma, my days were quite difficult to live through.

Axel had advised me not to leave the apartment, at least until I was sure I could go back. And since at the time Dr. Hugh’s lab was the only place I was able to reach, I was content to watch the world go by from the huge windows from which, the sunlight by day and the pallor of the moon by night, flooded in.

After preparing a sandwich and eating it sitting on the couch in front of the giant, 25’’ screen which, alas, as usual at that time only transmitted the message read by a blonde woman reassuring the nation that the streets were safe – with lots of footage showing the city’s regular routine – I crossed the living room towards the windows, walking barefoot on the black stoneware, so shiny that if I had been wearing a skirt instead of trousers I would have been able to see the reflection of my underwear.

All in all, even the windows were a sort of giant screen.

From there, if the sky was clear, I could even recognize in the distance the silhouette of the Statue of Liberty.

Today, however, a blanket of clouds seemed to have fallen in love with the Mind’s headquarters so the only view available was the one below.

Seen from the seventy-eighth floor, the ARM squads that roamed the streets making sure that there were no Orphans in the neighborhood, looked like long black snakes crawling from one block to another.

The surrounding buildings instead, some used as psychiatric centers for the Recluse while others regular facilities open to all New Yorkers, made me think of mirrors. A succession of mirrors arranged so as to be reflected into one another, creating the illusion of a repetitive, distressing world, trivial and bland from which there was no possibility of escape.

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