Page 87 of Psyop Kings

“Exactly.” Solomon sighs. “And because of your particular specifications, I wasn’t able to simply swap out for one of the successes.”

“Perhaps I could inspect her myself.”

Her.

They’re definitely discussing the transactions of human beings.

Bile creeps up my throat, but I don’t dare gag or make a sound for fear of getting caught.

“Unfortunately,” Solomon says, “that won’t be possible. We’re making a drop this evening and picking up new ones. Yours will not be ready until we’ve run her through the program.”

“How do you know she won’t fail too?”

“Vaccination records. We’re pulling them on all our products as a precursor to their entering the program. The ones we’re obtaining tonight have been vetted as far as that’s concerned.” Solomon pauses. “Again, though, I must remind you she will not be ready for another month or two. At first glance, she’s everything you’ll have requested, but she hasn’t been fixed yet.”

The air in my small space feels limited and I’m starting to sweat. I don’t understand how they can speak normally about trading these people out like broken television sets that need to be exchanged at the store. This is unreal.

“What’s my bonus?” Michael asks, voice cold but resigned to the outcome of the situation.

“Not what you requested, obviously, but it’s a consolation prize for the duration of our trip,” Solomon says, a wickedness in his tone. “For my part in this, I’ve negotiated a trader’s bonus. My handler has offered to give me your failed product. She’ll be ours to play with for a bit.”

Michael grows silent for a beat. “I like them docile, compliant, and eager to please. If she’s a failure, how will that work? I’m not sure that interests me.”

“We have ways of temporarily making that happen,” Solomon assures him. “In fact, with the Crownes here, we’ll have plenty of drugs at our disposal.”

I cringe at the thought of Caius rolling in with his suitcase of pills and needles. The more I learn about this family, the more and more disgusted I become.

“I’m not sure,” Michael grumbles. “I expected more out of this trip. I thought I’d be going home with something truly special, tailored to my personal needs and desires. This turns me off, Sol.”

“Just give it a chance,” Solomon implores. “Watch me play. It might inspire you. And if the sex doesn’t interest you, you’re more than welcome to take your aggressions out on her instead.”

Sickos.

Michael ponders this for a bit and then says, “So I can test drive my broken merchandise and when I get pissed off all over again, you’re not going to stop me if I beat the worthless life out of her?”

I gasp and quickly cover my mouth with my palm. Thankfully, the wind is noisy outside, masking my soft sound. My eyes water and I have to take several slow, measured breaths to keep from hyperventilating.

They’re planning murder and I’m forced to listen to this.

“If that’s what you choose, so be it,” Solomon says with barely masked irritation. “I do ask that you allow an old man to at least get his rocks off first.”

Michael starts to laugh and then Solomon joins in. They’re suddenly back to being best friends. Psychopaths.

“Grab a drink in the saloon on this deck,” Solomon says, rising from his chair. “I’ll come get you when I’ve got the drugs and the girl. Loosen up, my man, you’re about to have a little fun before dinner.”

Their footsteps retreat and I’m planning my escape from my hellish hidey hole when I hear a familiar voice.

“Solomon.”

“Ahh, Caius,” Solomon booms. “Just the man I was looking for. Come sit. We have much to discuss.”

Trapped. Again.

Romy

“It’s just me in here,” Solomon says. “If you’re looking for that sweet thing of yours, she’s not here, though it disappoints me to say so.”

Caius grunts. “She’s in our room getting ready. Just noticing your…interesting artwork.”

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