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“Thank you,” I whisper. “For everything.”

“I’m going to look after you, Briarlee,” he murmurs in my ear. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”

“I know you will.”

Chapter Nine

Daniel

I leave Briar’s place feeling the best I’ve ever felt. I have my health. I have my woman. What else is there? Oh, right. The final piece of the puzzle. Letting the people who said I couldn’t do this see how wrong they were. Once the company realizes I’ve developed a medication with truly life-saving effects, they’ll have to put Regenermax into production. Sure, the sexual side effects are something to consider. Maybe it will need to be given under medical supervision for the thirty-day treatment period. We can do that. We can probably even find ways to relieve the tension. Maybe robot prostitutes.

I laugh to myself. Did I really just think of robot prostitutes as a medical aid? I wonder if we can get insurance to cover them. Hmm. Maybe we can. Increased libido is no joke. The energy has to go somewhere. I’ve probably got about four, maybe five hours before I have to come again.

The drive for sex has become more like the drive for food. Start getting rumblings three or four hours after the last meal. It’s possible to ignore it and skip, but as time goes on, the hunger only grows.

I go back to Edison Enterprises. Not to the lab. To room 42 A. To find the man who tried to crush my dreams. I find him in his office, being mediocre. He looks up, surprised to see me and mumbles something about not having any appointments.

“Remember me?”

“Can I help you, sir?”

He doesn’t remember me. Being healthy is as good a disguise as any superhero costume.

“I’m Doctor Daniel Knight. I developed Regenermax. You were telling me my treatment wouldn’t work on humans. Well, it does. And I’m the proof.”

I expect him to stammer some kind of stunned apology and promise to put the drug into trials. That turns out to be a seriously naive expectation.

“Shut the door.”

I do as he says, not entirely sure why I’m taking orders from this guy. He takes off his glasses and gives me a sharp, pitying look. God, I hate pity.

“I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake, Doctor.”

“What do you mean?”

“We said we weren’t prepared to deal with the side effects. That no human trials could take place. You had no legal right to take that preparation, Doctor. You’re going to need to be quarantined.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re under the influence of a powerful sexogenic compound.”

“Sexogenic? You just made that up.”

He sighs.

“You think you’re the first researcher to come up with a compound like the one you made? You’re not. There are a dozen patents on drugs that enhance growth across all human systems. Regenermax isn’t even unique. What you’ve stumbled on is a compound first synthesized in the sixties.”

“Then why isn’t it on the market? Why aren’t people being treated?”

“The military own the patent. Because you’ve taken the drug, I’m required to inform them. And you’ll be required to go into quarantine in one of their facilities.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The drug is their property. You took it. Therefore, you become their property.”

“That is not how the law works.”

“Tell that to the men with guns.”

My mind races. Can they do this?

I can’t actually think of a reason why not. The truth is, law only applies when the people responsible for enforcing it want it to apply. When your military decides you’re their property, there is no due process.

“It might not be so bad,” he says. “If they determine what you have is something they already have, they probably won’t keep you any longer than a year or so. Of course, they might want you to progress your work through them too. Who knows. Maybe this will turn out to be a net positive for you, Doctor Knight.”

“A year?”

“We’ve already forwarded them your research information,” he says. “We did it around the time we were considering the clinical trial. They would have been interested in meeting you anyway. Now they more or less have to. Can’t have a man running around in general civilization under that kind of influence. You’ll be a danger to yourself and others.”

This is my fault. I didn’t have to come here and tell him this. I didn’t have to rub it in his face. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I considered that there could be some kind of legal consequences, but I figured they might try to sue me, which wouldn’t get them very far because they don’t pay us enough for it to be worth suing us over. I did not expect this.

“I’m not interested in working for the military.”

“You might get interested,” he says. “The confinement could become quite tiresome if you don’t.”


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