The Mutilation Machination by Shaun Jeffrey

The Algae
     
    Although only a two-hour continental shuttle hop from New
York to London, Richard Sheridan just wanted to check into the hotel
and go to sleep. But first he had to meet a client about a new pharmaceutical
contract.
    He'd arranged to meet Mike Travers in the hotel bar, so he settled
down with a tumbler of whisky to wait … and wait. When Mike didn't show up, Sheridan took
the fax out of his briefcase, noted Mike’s room number, and rode the lift up to
the eighth floor.
    The lift doors slid open and Sheridan stepped out into
the corridor. Counting the numbers on the doors, he made his way along the
passage – it was like counting sheep and he expected to fall asleep any minute.
    When he reached Mike’s room the door was open, out of which
drifted a pungent coppery aroma. Sheridan knocked and called out,
"Mike, you here buddy?"
    He didn’t receive a reply and so he walked into the room expecting
to find Mike asleep on the bed.
    What he didn’t expect was to find him dead. He covered his mouth
with his hand and gagged. Mike was lying on the bed with a hospitality escort
crouched over his legs. The sheets around his body were sodden with blood, and,
even though she had bitten his penis off, the escort was still simulating oral
sex. The organ protruded from her latex lips like a grotesque lollypop.
    The escort ceased her parody of bobbing for apples and looked
across at Sheridan. He had never found the sex aids very attractive; their
bodies looked too plastic – now he found them even more disgusting. The escort
opened her mouth to speak and the penis fell out like a dead fish.
"Welcome to the ..." she said, repeating the words in an electronic
loop. Blood dripped down her chin and coated her synthetic breasts in a red
sheen.
    Richard gagged and the contents of his stomach made an unwelcome
appearance.
     
    The Amazon rainforest was a temporal oasis. Blankets of steam rose
from the lush green fauna and the incessant drone of insects filled the air. At
his own request, Sheridan had been stationed out here for three
months, and yet he was still haunted by images of Mike lying on the bed with
the short circuited escort. No matter how far he travelled, it seemed the
nightmare followed.
    He dabbed his forehead and neck with an already sodden
handkerchief and exhaled a hot sigh. The heat was unbearable.
    A dense curtain of foliage barred his path, and he hacked it apart
with a machete and stepped through. The empty specimen bag banged against his
side. It was easy to imagine he had stepped back in time to a primordial age.
    So far he had collected little of use for the pharmaceutical
company he worked for. There were a couple of unrecorded species of plant which
required further investigation, but nothing that seemed beneficial. Not that he
was overly concerned.
    A bird took flight overhead, disturbing the foliage. Richard
looked up. Dappled sunlight filtered through the green canopy; it would soon be
dark so he had to start thinking about making his way back to camp.
    There was no sign of the bird that had taken flight, and he was
about to look away when he noticed a patch of vivid green algae on the branch
of one of the trees. He wouldn't have taken much notice except when the light
struck the algae, it seemed to change colour, turning almost flesh-like in
tone.
    Intrigued, he set his specimen bag down and took out a few tools.
Located on a high branch, the algae required a climb to reach it, and by the
time Richard had scrambled up the tree, the sun was sinking. Luckily, he had a
small torch clipped to his belt. Sitting straddled across a branch, he turned
the torch on and shone it at the algae.
    Immediately the algae changed from green to flesh coloured. He had
never seen anything like it, and he wondered whether it was a unique form of
photosynthesis. Using a small knife, he sliced a sample of the algae off and
held it to the light. Nothing happened. He'd expected it to change colour.
    As both his