Page 42 of The Sterling Acquisition
Dante
TheSVIresearchfacilityfelt different at night—hollow and echoing, with most of the corporate bustle replaced by skeleton crews and the hum of equipment that never slept. Dante waited in the shadows near the service entrance, checking his watch.
Duckie Chang was ten minutes late, which either meant he had cold feet about their arrangement or campus security was being more thorough than usual.
Fifty thousand iscs. The number had been more than enough to secure Duckie’s cooperation, especially when Dante framed it as “preserving valuable research” rather than corporate espionage. But money wasn’t Duckie’s only motivation—Dante saw the hesitationin his eyes when discussing Project Tether, the discomfort of someone involved in something they couldn’t fully justify to themselves.
A door clicked open, and Duckie’s nervous face appeared in the gap. The harsh lighting cast his features in sickly green shadows, making him look even more anxious than he likely was.
“You came,” he said, relief evident in his voice.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Dante slipped through the door, noting how Duckie began looking over his shoulder. “Relax. You’re doing consulting work for interested parties. Nothing more complicated than that.”
Duckie led him through a maze of corridors that Dante hadn’t seen during his official tour. Their footsteps echoed on scuffed linoleum, the sound seeming unnaturally loud in the empty hallways. “Dr. Morrison’s lab is in the restricted section. Officially, I’m here doing equipment maintenance.”
“And unofficially?”
“Unofficially, I’m about to show you research that could revolutionize human behavior modification.” Duckie sounded both proud and guilty. “Or destroy everything we claim to believe about personal autonomy.”
“Why are you really doing this?” Dante asked, studying the youngerman’s profile. “Fifty thousand iscs is substantial, but not life-changing for someone with your credentials.”
Duckie’s face faltered. “My sister was in one of Elysian’s ‘compatibility trials’ last year. Their version of emotional manipulation. She’s...” He swallowed hard. “She’s not the same person anymore. Still talks like her, looks like her, but there’s something missing behind her eyes.”
Dante nodded, understanding. This wasn’t just about money—it was personal. “And you see the same potential in Project Tether?”
“Worse, actually. Much worse.” Duckie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “This... this makes people think it was their idea all along.”
They walked in relative silence through increasingly secure sections of the facility. Dante catalogued security measures, exit routes, personnel schedules—all the intelligence Gensyn would want about SVI’s capabilities. But his focus kept drifting to what Duckie said about behavior modification.
What had Morrison developed? And why did he want Orion to be a test subject?
“Here,” Duckie said, stopping at a reinforced door marked with biometric scanners and warning signs. “Dr. Morrison’s private lab. This is where Project Tether lives.” Duckie pressed his palm against the scanner, then entered a complex code.
The door opened with a soft hiss, releasing a wave of cold, antiseptic-laden air that made Dante’s nostrils burn. The laboratory beyond looked more like a medical facility than a research lab—gleaming stainless steel restraint tables, IV stands with computerized delivery systems, monitoring equipment designed for subjects who wouldn’t be cooperative participants.
“Christ,” Dante breathed.
“Wait until you see the actual research.” Duckie moved to a workstation and began pulling up files on the computer. His fingers trembled as he navigated through layers of security. “Project Tether isn’t just about compliance—it’s about creating genuine emotional attachment through chemical intervention.”
The screen filled with technical specifications that made Dante’s blood run cold. Chemical formulations designed to alter neurotransmitter production, protocols for inducing artificial bonding responses, and dosage charts that correlated with body weight and resistance levels.
“This is forced bonding technology,” Dante said. His stomach clenched.
“More than that. Look at this.” Duckie pulled up another file filled with psychological profiles and projected test results. “The subjects don’t just become compliant—they become attached to their handlers. They believe their feelings are real, authentic. Complete emotional subjugation disguised as love.”
Project Tether didn’t just break someone’s will—it convinced them they’d never had will to begin with.
It was psychological murder disguised as therapy.
“How many test subjects have there been?” Dante asked, his voice rougher than he intended.
“This will be the first human trial. Morrison’s been perfecting the formula using animal models for months.” Duckie’s voice was quiet, ashamed. He pulled up a video file that showed a series of caged animals—some docile, others aggressive. “The results on the test animals were complete personality restructuring within 72 hours. No resistance, no memory of their previous behavioral patterns.”
The video continued, showing the same animals after treatment. The transformation was unsettling—previously aggressive animals now pressed against the bars seeking contact with researchers, eyes vacant and adoring. One subject, a large canine that had been snarling in earlier footage, now whimpered pathetically when the researcher stepped away, desperate for continued contact.
“Where are the animal subjects now?”
“Reassigned to various research departments as ‘success stories.’ Docile, entirely attached to their handlers.” Duckie pulled up another file, this one filled with research footage and behavioral assessments. “Look at these behavioral changes. Aggressive animals becoming submissive, feral subjects seeking constant contact with researchers.”
