Tevun-Krus #77 - BioPunk

We Have a Source - A Short Story by @sleepingdraco

Note: This story is Part 4 of the Tales of Dr. Drake. For Part 1, see One Populace (featured in TK75: SolarPunk). For Part 2, see Reentry (featured in TK74: A Very Superhuman Christmas). And for Part 3, see Home Again (featured in TK76: AfroFuturism).

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In the narrow corridor to Lazarus' office, Fink squeezed past a gorgeous six-foot-tall blonde. As her full breasts brushed his metal chest plate, she scanned him up and down clearly taking a multitude of biologic readings as well as likely deactivating whatever rounds remained in his weapon. She scoffed in disgust. Her enhanced pheromones stirred lust somewhere deep in Fink's groin. Motivated solely by power and money, Fink cared little for anyone and kept an iron grip on his innate desires. Yet, had he been anywhere else, he may have paused for a moment face to face with this female specimen against his better judgment. His rational mind knew genetically modified women were more dangerous than they were desirable. However, few men could deny them. Fink had no doubt he was one of those who could resist, but having one and staying in control. That appealed to his base nature. 

"So?" Lazarus did not look up from his console as Fink entered. Sitting in an office chair, his rolls of purple belly fat spilled over the edge of the seat. His five tentacles poked at the 360-degree holographic screen surrounding him. The disarray surrounding Lazarus' command station lay in stark contrast to the power he wielded. Weapons, biologic specimens in various stages of decay, ancient books, and modern-looking devices littered the floor and available shelf space.

Fink did not give the grotesque beast so much as a glance. He limped across the room, opened a bottle of unlabeled booze, and poured himself a drink before sitting in the one empty chair available.

Few people entered Lazarus' lair, and fewer left it alive. Lazarus conducted most of his business remotely (unless it involved admiring his own handy work on a client with two X chromosomes). Fink was his main connection to the outside world. Though neither trusted the other, nor the products they sold, their partnership worked well. Together they controlled the largest cartel selling illegal biomodifications in the galaxy.

"I found her," said Fink gritting his teeth in response to a sip of sharp liquor.

"And?" Lazarus still did not look up.

"My men are capturing her now."

Lazarus grunted.

"How do you propose we handle her?" asked Fink.

Lazarus finally looked up with his large droopy bloodshot eyes. "I don't think simply downloading her intelligence and transmitting it into our programs will work." He threw a dart across the room narrowly missing Fink's right shoulder. It hit a bullseye on the target behind him. Fink didn't flinch. "Replication of her neurons would allow us to reproduce the nanites she created and let loose on Lacedan, but we already have samples of those." Lazarus turned back to his screens. "We need her creativity. And for that, I need her alive and in good condition."

"The biomodifications possible with Dr. Julia Drake's expertise in nanites could satisfy our most select and demanding clients," said Fink draining his glass.

"No doubt," said Lazarus. "And the richest."

"So are you going to sweet-talk her into working for you with your masculine charm?"

Lazarus didn't dignify Fink's thinly veiled taunt with a response.

"Everyone has a price, Fink," replied Lazarus. "You know that." Fink gave Lazarus a deathly glare, which was dismissed with a wave of a tentacle.

"She'll be here in three hours," said Fink. "Usual storage facility?" Lazarus nodded. Fink stood stiffly and left.

* * *

Julia peeled herself out of her chair in the wee hours of the morning and wobbled more than just a bit. Her intoxication had lost its effectiveness in numbing her emotions. She felt more than a little nauseous. Time to go home.

As she staggered up the stairs from Gunkle's tavern up to street level, she didn't notice the small scanner following her.

"Oi," a rough voice close to her ear caught her off guard. Julia heard the movement of several large men step out of the shadows. Goosebumps rose on the back of her neck and she glimpsed a face half made of metal before she fell to her knees reeling from a sharp blow to her head. Her ears rang and blood dripped onto the pavement.

Dizzy, her vision dimmed. On her hands and knees, she heard gunfire, yells. A heavy weight landed across her back pinning her to the ground. Then someone pulled it off again and she saw mental face's vacant eyes as his body rolled limply next to her. A small hand grasped her upper arm.

"Up!"

"Kia!" croaked Julia. Her sister yanked her to her feet and pushed her in a daze down the street and into a narrow alley.

"You made some nasty friends at Gunkle's tonight, Julia," said Kia. "Up!" Kia displayed remarkable strength despite being slightly smaller than her sibling. She shoved a profusely bleeding Julia onto the back of her motorcycle, jumped on and gunned the engine. As the bike squealed out of the dark alley, Julia looked back and saw four dead men. Her sister might be slight of frame, but she rivaled any larger male sniper in her accuracy. She owed her sister a thank you and an explanation.