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  Future Reborn Copyright © 2018 by Daniel Pierce

  Book design and layout copyright © 2018 by Daniel Pierce

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

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  No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

  Daniel Pierce

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  Future Reborn

  Book 1 in the Future Reborn Series

  By

  Daniel Pierce

  1

  “I’m Doctor Marsten, and it’s important that you pay close attention to what I say, Jack.”

  He was young, a little on the pudgy side, thinning blonde hair combed to the side. He didn’t seem like an asshole, best I could tell. They took me back almost immediately when I showed up at the clinic, which felt more like a corporate office than anything else. There was soft music and the smell of peppermint. I figured it was for people who were nervous, but if anything, the peppermint helped my head and kept my stomach from flipping. Hangovers are a bitch, and I’m their resident expert.

  “Okay, but why?” I asked him. Seemed logical.

  He smiled, and he looked even younger. “Because I’m the one who signs your check.”

  I pointed at him, smiling even though it hurt like hell. “Got it, doc.”

  “Alright, here’s how it goes down. We lower your body temp with a series of injections, put you into cryosleep, and when you wake up in five months, you feel great and have a check for five hundred thousand dollars in one hand. A two-stage process like nothing else in the world, and we’ve run it on every higher animal species you can imagine. You’ll be the third person to test our method, and the benefits are a helluva lot more than just a good nap. While you sleep, the nanobots will go to work. They’ll regenerate a level of cellular growth and bone density that any normal colonist would find fatal, given a long enough voyage under low-G. This is it, Jack. This is what we’ve been looking for since the dawn of modern space travel, and it’s going to happen right here, right now. With you.”

  Nanobots. Right. They’d told me all about those during the sign-up phase, early on. Nanotech was nothing new, so I hadn’t thought much about it. I’d even received some nano treatment during my time in the Service. They’d been injecting soldiers with it for nearly ten years, but this was supposed to be some kind of new and improved strand. No surprise there, considering I was in the private sector now. They always got the good shit before the government adopted it. Hell, that’s the whole reason I was even here, wasn’t it? To play the guinea pig for the next generation?

  “I’m third? What happened to the others?” I asked.

  “They’re out spending their money,” he said. “No side effects that aren’t incredibly beneficial. This is the next step in humanity, Jack. No permanent harm, no fuzzy head—”

  “It’s already fuzzy,” I interrupted. “Long night.”

  “We can handle that first. Dana?” A nurse with a pretty face and pink lips poked her head from behind the curtain. “Bring me a mixer.”

  I felt myself begin to protest. “I think—"

  “Not that kind. A shot. Some pain reliever and anti-nausea. Guaranteed to make you forget last night ever happened.” He leaned towards me, a conspiratorial look on his face. “I’ve been to a few bachelor parties. It’s a popular shot the next day.”

  “Damn, it’s good to be a doc,” I told him. Dana put the shot in his hand, rolling her eyes before leaving. She smelled like flowers, and her uniform strained over a chest that longed to be free.

  “That it is.” He gave me a knowing wink and put the needle in my arm with practiced ease. I didn’t feel anything except a warm sense of relief. “Alright, you’re good. Get in the gown and meet me on the other side of the curtain. It’s a bit of a sight but trust me. We’re going to take good care of you.”

  “What’s a sight?” I asked. My tongue felt thick but not bad. Just slow.

  “The tube. You’ll see.”

  He was right. Stumbling into the next room, I pulled up short at the sight of whatever it was they were going to put me in. “It’s—you sure that’s safe?”

  “Not just safe, Jim. Innovative technology designed to make you sleep like you’re drifting in the stars. It’s taken the Navy ten years to get here. You’re the third person we’re testing, and I like what I see from this project.” He smiled at me like a puppy. The drugs were settling in, a background buzz that kept my stomach calm but left me thirsty.

  “Just climb in?” It was a slick metal tube, pulsing with blue lights and power cords like I’d never seen before. It was on wheels, but they were locked in place on the smooth white floor. “Big bastard,” I said. The tube was ten feet long, and sort of menacing.

  “It’s got a lot of tech inside. We’re going to give you another shot, okay? This is the first one, and it’s going to take a minute or so. Then, when your vitals are calm, we’ll start cooling you down. This injection is something even more advanced than the cold-sleep technology, and it’s going to help you adjust to being in a deep state of rest.” He gestured to the tube, and I did my best to climb in without falling over. I guess I wasn’t done with last night after all.

  “Good?” he asked, looking down at me. It was more comfortable than I thought, some kind of cool gel bedding that folded around me. There was a low hum, and a needle the size of a chair leg descended toward my neck.

  “Whoa, hey, what the fuck—"I didn’t get any further. The needle broke skin, and I realized it didn’t hurt. Dana appeared over me, prettier than I remembered from a minute earlier. There were freckles lightly brushed across her nose, and her lips turned up like a kiss looking for a place to land.

  “It’s designed not to hurt, but it’s a shock.” She grinned, and I watched her sit down on a chair, leaning close as a wash of flower scent filled my senses. My eyes wandered over her cleavage, which was normal behavior for me. The look she gave wasn’t.

  I kept looking.

  “I’m basically naked,” I began, “so if you don’t want an incident, give me a little space in here, okay? You smell really good.” Even as I said it, she reached out to touch my arm. Her fingers were warm.

  “It’s okay. Call it a natural reaction to our proximity.” Her smile was challenging. Lifting a tablet, she adjusted herself to give me a maximum view of her assets. “Mind if I ask a few questions before the chillers?”

  “Chillers?”

  “Cold shots. For the sleep,” she told me. The needle in my arm pulsed again. Whatever I was getting, it was a lot of fluid. I felt little or nothing but turned my eyes to Dana.

  “Fire away,” I told her.

  “Name?” She asked.

  “James Anthony Bowman. But you can call me Jack.”

  “Age?”

  “Twenty-eight.” And fucking used up, I thought.

  “Height?” Her lips were full. I noticed.

  “Six feet one or so,” I said. Not too used up for you.

  She nodded, fingers flying over the tablet without diverting her gaze. Doctor Marsten was busy behind her, some kind of goggles covering his eyes. He looked like a bug.

  “Weight?”

  “Two hundred.”

&nb
sp; “I can see your eyes are blue, hair is black.” Her fingers tapped twice. “Other than your knee, any injuries?” She regarded my scar with soft eyes.

  “No. Lucky that way.” I was, too. I had friends in pieces, but I was whole. I knew I’d dodged more than one bullet out there in the desert.

  She gave me a curious look. “Right. Lucky. What do you do, Jack?”

  “Computers, data management. Got a degree in engineering, too, but I got fucked in the recession. Went into the Marines for a check and found out I liked it.”

  “So, you’re a man of science,” she commented.

  “You’re goddamn right I am. Or was, I guess, back before I picked up a rifle and found something else I liked. Guess I’m a man of two worlds when you get right down to it.”

  “This is bleeding-edge tech, right down to what’s going in your vein. Nanotech, and enough of them to make you a new man,” Dana said.

  Doctor Marsten leaned around her, brandishing a tray. There were needles on it. Five in all. I saw them as hundred-dollar bills with points. Bring it on. “This is about a lot more than cold-sleep, Jack. This is about rebirth. You ready?”

  “Ready,” I answered. The tube wasn’t bad, Dana looked better and better, and my head was quiet. It was time to make some money, and when I wake up, ask Dana if she likes whiskey and nudity, in any order.

  “You’ll feel the first, then start to slow down,” Doctor Marsten said.

  “You signed the release, right?”

  “I forgot to have him sign,” she said, putting a pen in my hand.

  I scrawled something, and Marsten smirked. “Close enough. Let’s go. This shouldn’t hurt because of the nanobots. They run interference from pain the instant they enter your system, but they’ll get more efficient with time.” He depressed the first shot, and a searing cold flooded my arm.

  “Fucking cold,” I grunted but tried to stay still. It was a big needle, and it was still in my arm.

  “Going to get colder, Jack. A lot colder.” His smile was different—a lot less friendly. He pulled the first needle out and sent the second one home without asking. My eyes fluttered as something alien crawled through my veins, cold and brittle. It cut at me in places I didn’t know I had, and my limbs twitched, out of control as pain filled my spine.

  I tried to speak, but I couldn’t, and Marsten was too busy using me a dartboard to notice my mouth opening halfway like a dying fish. Fucking cold, my mind told the rest of me. I was two people now, Jack and whatever this shell was that the needles kept going into.

  I was also fading fast. The pain crashed again, a cymbal of hurt that ripped up and down my spine, firing out into my legs in sharp bursts. Two things were happening that I couldn’t grasp, and both of them hurt like hell.

  “Bots are in?” Dana asked, peering up at a panel. Darkness started to crowd the corners of my vision like I was short on air. I’d had the bends once in dive school, and it was like that, but worse.

  Marsten laughed, the sound coming out ugly and unsettling. “His blood is crawling. If we cut him open, he’d run black, not red.” He pulled the other needle out of me, the one I’d forgotten about. There was a crystalline black sludge in the plunger. I stared at the evil looking stuff until my eyes pulled down on me, not shit I could do to hold them open.

  “How long do you think he’ll be under?” Dana asked. Her voice pulsed in and out like a distant siren.

  “Under? I’d be astonished if he ever comes out of it. Not without the ‘bots and a reversal. This one’s perfect. No family, no one to call. We’ll cut off the other loose ends later, but this one’s in excellent shape. He can take a beating, can’t you, Marine?” Marsten slapped my shoulder, setting the injection site into a spiral of agony. I hurt all over, barely hanging on to my mind by the merest thread.

  “Cold yet?” Dana asked, opening my left eye to peer in at what was left of me.

  Colder than you will ever know, you pricks. She let my eye close, followed by the sound of the lid of the tube pushing down with a final click. Whatever they’d done to me, it wasn’t worth five hundred dollars. It wasn’t worth any amount of money in the world, and I could do nothing about it.

  My lungs filled with dry air, shuddering as I fought for my life, then, with the sound of Dana’s laughter, the cold took me, and I slept.

  2

  “Fuckoffameee. . .” I heard myself groan, but it came out as a rusty whisper. It took me twenty-six minutes and fourteen seconds to figure out just what the hell was going on. I know this because a digital counter flared to life in my right eye, running time off as Dana and Marsten tried to pry me out of their tin can. “Didja break the lock?” Again, my voice was raw, and out of instinct, I sucked at a tube that was curled near my mouth. After a moment, tepid gel ran across my lips, tasting of chemicals but still wet enough to cleanse my throat of the gritty sensation.

  I heard a hiss. Then another and tried to turn my head, when a low background hum in the tube stopped, leaving me in a stifling silence.

  “You’re going to have to try harder, doc. The lid’s not moving from the—”

  An explosion of scalding, white light flooded my eyes as I felt the world tilt under me, and I was falling. I didn’t fall far, but I did hit hard just as it occurred to me that I was completely naked and sore as hell. I hit the ground with enough force to make me cough, but that was all I could do. My muscles felt like they were jelly infused with the afterglow of a good, solid ass-kicking.

  Something flickered across my eyes, dimming them as my vision grew dark, then dull, then stable, all in the span of a minute. I heard a keening wind and the cry of a distant bird, lonely and raw.

  Wind? A bird? Shielding my eyes out of habit, I dropped my hand to the ground when it was obvious I didn’t need to hide to cover them. “Did you move me to the parking lot? Does this mean I’m not getting paid?” I needed the cash. And clothes. And some damn answers as to why they would move me out of the medical office at all. The tube had been huge. Unless they took a wall down, I had no idea how it could be done.

  I lay there panting, feeling heavy and more than a little confused. Actually, I was bewildered as fuck and starting to sweat heavily under the sun. It felt like high noon in the desert, so I started to roll over. I was going to stand up before I did anything else, or I’d roast in the sun like a drunken tourist. I reached for my knee, knowing it would be a source of pain if I tried to move.

  The scar was gone.

  “What the—” My mind began reeling all over again. My knee was smooth, the skin unbroken. No jagged scar and stitched flesh. No low throb. It was like new. “This isn’t right,” I told myself, feeling panic crawl up my spine in a dread chill.

  “Wat-kali-lidio?” A gravelly voice asked me. Two faces appeared overhead, bound in grimy cloth and wearing respirators that had seen better days.

  “What the fuck? Dana? Marsten?” My memory flooded back, and I knew if it was them, they weren’t my friends.

  “Marsa...ten?” Different speaker, same voice. The head cocked in confusion, looking down at me and framed by the blast furnace sun.

  I let my head fall back, taking them in from head to toe. Dirty, clad in some kind of thin leathers. Belts and buckles and weapons all over, bristling with points, with two waterskins each. One wore a bow, slung high on the shoulder; the other held a spear tipped with a nasty bard cut from metal. The edge glittered in the light, and I had no doubt they could use their weapons. Every ounce of air slid from me in defeat. I knew desert fighters when I saw them, having done three tours among people who fought with whatever weapons were available.

  The real question had nothing to do with these people and everything to do with the tube. The fighter on the left held a pry bar, its edges scarred from trying to open the tube for the past half hour. I struggled to my elbows, watching them pull back with professional wariness. My heart hammered away at my ribs, and it took everything not to howl with fear and rage. Nothing was real except the sun burning me like a
nightmare. I dragged in a breath, my lungs filling with desert air and freaked out all over again.

  My eyes were a bleary mess, but I could see the men before me as I tried reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. I was in the shit, no doubt, but they weren’t moving, just watching me through goggles scoured by the wind.

  They weren’t scared. They were careful.

  I consider myself to be a reasonable person. I never believed in ghosts or crystals or any of that bullshit, so I relied on my senses. On the evidence. It was part of being in combat. Myths make you dumb. Facts keep you alive. Leave the legends to the hill people, and focus on the objective as it’s presented.

  Based on that stellar personal motto, I concluded that I was no longer in a clinic ten miles from my house, and Dana and Marsten had fucked up. I didn’t have a long beard or talons for toenails, but everything else told me I’d been asleep for a lot longer than a few hours. Either Marsten owed me a mountain of back pay, or he was dead.

  Judging by the people watching me like an unexploded bomb, I was going with dead.

  I decided to start with the basics because losing my shit wasn’t going to help at all and the adrenaline was fading into the background. “Where am I?”

  The people watched me but made no move to answer. After a long silence, the man on the left crouched despite being the taller of the two.

  He started to speak in a tumble of silvery words, the syllables running together like a birdcall. I was about to hold up my hand and ask for silence when words appeared in my right eye, exactly where the timer had been while they were busy breaking into the tube.

  Lingual Shift Correction. Adjusting Now.

  “Hey, I—” I coughed as something began to move in my throat. Ghostly fingers tightened in my neck, lifting and tugging in short motions that eventually ran together in one fluid process. Finally, after a series of gasping breaths, everything stopped. The words vanished, and I was left to stare at my liberators with eyes that burned with sweat.