hands were full, he slipped the torch between his
teeth and then touched the algae he’d removed. He ran his finger across it,
surprised to find that while still warm, it felt like skin.
Wanting to feel the algae on the branch, he shuffled closer and a
thorn suddenly pierced his leg. He grimaced and the torch fell from his mouth.
He tried to grab it, but missed and the torch hit the branch. It bounced -
luckily he managed to catch it on its way back up.
When he looked at the torch, he saw the lens had broken, and
realising it was foolish trying to work while balanced up a tree, he sliced a
few more samples of the algae off the branch, dropped them into a specimen jar
and made his way back down to terra firma.
When safely on the ground, he wedged the torch between a vine and
the tree trunk and tipped the algae out of the jar into his hand. Angling it so
the light shone on it, he was disappointed to see there was still no change.
Perhaps he'd imagined it.
Exhaling slowly, he started to tip the algae back into the jar
when some samples spilled onto the torch. With the glass cover broken, it fell
onto the silver reflector and almost immediately he saw it start to solidify
into a lump of flesh coloured material. Picking the substance off, he held it
in the palm of his hand and stroked it.
It was incredible. The texture was remarkably skin-like. He peered
closely at it, and noticed what looked like pores across the surface.
After a couple of minutes, the substance became unstable and fell
apart as it turned back into green algae. Wondering whether it was just a
fluke, Richard tipped more algae onto the torch lens, smiling when he saw it
change once more.
Over the next few days, he collected more of the algae and
proceeded to experiment with it. He found it reacted to mild electrical
charges, and by using different voltages, he could manipulate it, changing its
thickness and colour.
Realising the possible value as an artificial skin, he kept his
work secret and started cultivating the plant life until he became quite the
green-fingered horticulturist.
The nightmare vision of Mike in the hotel room slowly faded, and instead
he started to dream about a new breed of escorts, ones so lifelike they were
indistinguishable from real people.
A few calls later, and he set up a meeting with an escort
manufacturer in Bangkok. He demonstrated the algae a week after, using a
prosthetic limb wired up to a battery. The owners of the company were amazed
how life-like and tactile the algae was, and plans were implemented to start
work on a new range of escorts.
Sheridan had never been happier.
Diffused sunlight filtered through the grimy basement window of
the Las Vegas, New Moon Hotel.
The door opened and Morgan Booker looked up from his files and
grimaced as the naked escort entered.
"Jesus, you've had a rough one, Michelle." He shook his
head and dropped the files on the desk. The escort's body was covered in
bloodless lesions, which he guessed were lash marks. "Sit on the chair and
I’ll have a look."
The escort walked across the room and sat on a plastic chair that
had a large hole in the seat. While he inspected her, the escort remained
impassive.
During his time at the hotel, Morgan had seen his fair share of
wounds, but these were probably some of the worst. Even though the escorts
weren't real flesh and blood, he couldn't imagine what sort of person got their
kicks doing this shit to them. For some reason, people seemed to treat the new
lifelike models worse than the old latex versions.
“Right, lets get you cleaned. Code C, release vaginal, anus and
mouth tubes.”
At his command, the flesh around the escort's orifices appeared to
curdle and three cylindrical tubes fell out, the anus one landing noisily on
the ground between her feet. The remaining holes of cratered flesh made the
escort look as though she'd been pierced by bullets.
Morgan retrieved the tubes and held them up. “You have been
busy.”
The
teeth and then touched the algae he’d removed. He ran his finger across it,
surprised to find that while still warm, it felt like skin.
Wanting to feel the algae on the branch, he shuffled closer and a
thorn suddenly pierced his leg. He grimaced and the torch fell from his mouth.
He tried to grab it, but missed and the torch hit the branch. It bounced -
luckily he managed to catch it on its way back up.
When he looked at the torch, he saw the lens had broken, and
realising it was foolish trying to work while balanced up a tree, he sliced a
few more samples of the algae off the branch, dropped them into a specimen jar
and made his way back down to terra firma.
When safely on the ground, he wedged the torch between a vine and
the tree trunk and tipped the algae out of the jar into his hand. Angling it so
the light shone on it, he was disappointed to see there was still no change.
Perhaps he'd imagined it.
Exhaling slowly, he started to tip the algae back into the jar
when some samples spilled onto the torch. With the glass cover broken, it fell
onto the silver reflector and almost immediately he saw it start to solidify
into a lump of flesh coloured material. Picking the substance off, he held it
in the palm of his hand and stroked it.
It was incredible. The texture was remarkably skin-like. He peered
closely at it, and noticed what looked like pores across the surface.
After a couple of minutes, the substance became unstable and fell
apart as it turned back into green algae. Wondering whether it was just a
fluke, Richard tipped more algae onto the torch lens, smiling when he saw it
change once more.
Over the next few days, he collected more of the algae and
proceeded to experiment with it. He found it reacted to mild electrical
charges, and by using different voltages, he could manipulate it, changing its
thickness and colour.
Realising the possible value as an artificial skin, he kept his
work secret and started cultivating the plant life until he became quite the
green-fingered horticulturist.
The nightmare vision of Mike in the hotel room slowly faded, and instead
he started to dream about a new breed of escorts, ones so lifelike they were
indistinguishable from real people.
A few calls later, and he set up a meeting with an escort
manufacturer in Bangkok. He demonstrated the algae a week after, using a
prosthetic limb wired up to a battery. The owners of the company were amazed
how life-like and tactile the algae was, and plans were implemented to start
work on a new range of escorts.
Sheridan had never been happier.
Diffused sunlight filtered through the grimy basement window of
the Las Vegas, New Moon Hotel.
The door opened and Morgan Booker looked up from his files and
grimaced as the naked escort entered.
"Jesus, you've had a rough one, Michelle." He shook his
head and dropped the files on the desk. The escort's body was covered in
bloodless lesions, which he guessed were lash marks. "Sit on the chair and
I’ll have a look."
The escort walked across the room and sat on a plastic chair that
had a large hole in the seat. While he inspected her, the escort remained
impassive.
During his time at the hotel, Morgan had seen his fair share of
wounds, but these were probably some of the worst. Even though the escorts
weren't real flesh and blood, he couldn't imagine what sort of person got their
kicks doing this shit to them. For some reason, people seemed to treat the new
lifelike models worse than the old latex versions.
“Right, lets get you cleaned. Code C, release vaginal, anus and
mouth tubes.”
At his command, the flesh around the escort's orifices appeared to
curdle and three cylindrical tubes fell out, the anus one landing noisily on
the ground between her feet. The remaining holes of cratered flesh made the
escort look as though she'd been pierced by bullets.
Morgan retrieved the tubes and held them up. “You have been
busy.”
The
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