“A demonstration!” Master shouted, and the voices around the room grew louder.
“221, mzad.” Master commanded me to ready myself, and my legs parted, my feet heavy on the concrete ground. My head snapped up.
A door opened behind me. In my peripheral vision, I saw the men in the room all sit forward, visibly excited.
My eyes stared straight forward, when Master commanded, “221, t’avis mkhriv.”
I turned, obeying the command, and a man stood before me holding a long chain with razors on its links. Rage built in my chest. Klavs, klavs, klavs—kill, kill, kill—I thought to myself. I gripped my sais tighter as the man smiled at me.
Klavs! KLAVS! I screamed inside my head.
The man began spinning his chain to the side, the heavy links smacking off the hard ground. The man before me was big. But not bigger than me. He couldn’t beat me. I would win. I always won.
“221, sikvidili.” Master ordered me to prepare to bring death. So I readied to bring nothing but death and pain.
“Now, gentlemen. As most are here from, or associated with, the Arziani gulags, and I set up this ring as an example of how the drugs work, 221 will not stop until I command him to, plowing through anyone put in his way.”
My skin shivered in anticipation as Master’s voice raised in volume. The chain belonging to the soon-to-be dead man before me kept spinning and spinning, gaining more and more speed.
“Let’s start this show, shall we?” Master announced. The room fell to silence. “221,” Master called, and every part of me braced for the attack. Seconds passed, then Master ignited my blood when he ordered me to kill. “Klavs!”
Letting my rage take hold, I rushed forward, sais braced as I stalked the dead meat. Lifting his hand, my prey swung the chain, heavy metal aiming for my head. Shifting to the side, I dodged the chain and plowed the long blade of my right sai into his side. Turning, the man had fallen to his knees, his chain falling to the ground. I approached his back and stared at his neck and hairless head. Bracing behind him, I raised both sais, and with a loud roar, sent them through either side of his skull.
Warm blood sprayed against my chest, the fire in my body pumping faster and faster. The man’s body dropped to the floor with a thud, blood pouring from his wounds.
Reaching for my sais, I ripped them from his head. Needing to see more blood run at my feet, I spun the sais in my hand then plunged them into the back of his neck and the front of his throat.
Stepping back, the flames inside pushing at my mind, I began to circle the ring.
I needed more. Needed more blood.
The men in the room were talking in loud voices, the sound stabbing at my mind. I circled and circled waiting for more.
I needed more, when—
“221, shech’erda!” Master’s loud voice cut through to my ears, ordering me to halt. My feet ground to a stop and my head bowed.
Excited murmurs rippled through the crowd.
“You see, gentlemen. One hundred percent obedience and effectiveness.” I breathed hard through my nostrils. My feet wanted to move, but Master’s command held me in check.
“Those who came from the gulags, I’m sure you’ll be happy with what you’ve seen. And those who have come from our other enterprises, please, allow me to demonstrate the Type B drug.”
Sounds of the doors opening again caught my attention. Quiet footsteps entered the ring. Then men started murmuring again, shifting in their seats.
“547 is the prototype for our Type B drug. It too offers obedience. A full willingness by the slave to do anything, and I mean anything. It’s infused with hormones that increase the woman’s libido and makes her * wet for hours, promising your clients endless fun. It also boasts a powerful contraceptive, so no unwanted pregnancies will occur.