I stared at the optical sensory device, my skin crawling as I marveled at my prodigy’s skewed process of evolution. GOLEM had lied. The computer had actually fabricated a story in order to alter the outcome of a situation.

If it lied about my presence on board …

“As mission commander, I should have been briefed.”

“Your role is to oversee the welfare of the crew. You are not in command of the Omega Project.”

It was a tense moment, the reason I was here. I sensed the true sociopath was revealing itself.

The crewmen huddled to talk.

Commander Read rendered their verdict a minute later. “Welcome to team Omega, Dr. Eisenbraun. Mr. Sloan, has our friend here had his full protocol of cryogenic shots?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then let’s tuck him in.” Kevin nodded to Dr. Bruemmer—who jabbed the hypodermic needle concealed in his palm into the left side of my neck.

Chapter 15

15

No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear.

—EDMUND BURKE

The lights dimmed, the room spun. Waves of panic rolled like fading jolts of electricity through my being. Voices became echoed and muffled, no longer recognizable. My legs disappeared, the numbness spreading from my limbs and into my upper torso—the thought of losing control of my breathing muscles terrifying. I was laid out, an oxygen mask strapped over my nose and mouth, the portable unit forcibly blowing air into my lungs.

Hoisted horizontally, I felt neither my body nor the hands carrying me down the corridor.

Drowning in a lake of hot anesthetic, ABE became my life preserver, the bio-chip furiously rerouting my brain’s neural pathways to find a channel of clarity.

My hearing returned as they carried me through the arboretum and down the spiral staircase to the lower level.

“… not following protocol.” Lara Saints’s voice pierced the bubble of deafness, causing my chest and rib muscles to spasm … I could breathe!

“He was nervous about being placed into stasis,” Kevin Read lied. “We decided this was the best way to handle it. Jason, has Eisenbraun’s IV been prepared?”

“Yes, sir. But we’ll need to strip him before he’s placed in the interior harness.”

“Lara, care to do the honors?”

“Fuck you, Kevin.”

My vision sharpened. Still paralyzed, I realized I was watching my reflection in the octopus tank as rough hands peeled the unzipped jumpsuit from the body I could no longer feel.

“Pod’s ready. Lower him in … Wait, hold him there while I position his arms and legs.”

My mind screamed in silence as I was tucked inside the pod’s interior harness. My stare caught Jason Sloan’s eyes as the cryogenics expert hovered over my chest, frantically attaching a series of electrocardiogram leads.

“Jesus, he’s conscious.”

“That’s impossible,” said Dr. Bruemmer. “I shot him with enough anesthetic to knock out a horse.”