AMP - Phase 1 (Cyborg Invasion) (A.M.P) Read online

  A M P

  (Amplified Mental Projection)

  Phase 1:

  The Gamma Project

  Brian K. Larson

  A M P

  (Amplified Mental Projection)

  Phase 1: The Gamma Project

  Brian K. Larson

  Published by Slipstream Publishing

  Copyright © 2014 Brian K. Larson

  DEDICATION

  I dedicate this book to my step-son, Don Tangborn. Don was instrumental in helping me develop the concept of the two series, Salvage-5 and AMP, as combined works. He also provided me valuable feedback on the cover design. Without his words of wisdom, this work would not be what it is today.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek

  Other Works by Author, Brian K. Larson

  CHAPTER 1

  Everett Washington

  Benjamin Petersen’s Apartment

  September 26th 2067 18:30

  Ben sat on the tattered sofa in his rundown basement apartment. The floor was littered with rolled up paper balls, pencils, and partially used torn scraps of paper.

  He meticulously loaded rounds into the clip of his Glock 22. He then inserted the clip with a snap into the .40 caliber, and cocked a round in the chamber. Holstering his gun in his vest, he stood to zip up his leather jacket.

  He sighed as he ran his nervous fingers through his long stringy hair, “Get ahold of yourself…you can do this…”

  Ben picked up his billed cap from the arm of the torn sofa and placed it on top of the long hair flowing down his back. He needed to blend in with the regulars of the center where he could find an underground accelerator module.

  His father was Colonel Tucker Petersen, who had returned from the Salvage-5 mission, making a valiant attempt at saving his son’s life with alien tech. Ben thought it was cool at first.

  How often does a twenty something year old have brain surgery, let alone have alien tech implanted. That was three years ago. Now every city on Earth had been filled with fake imitation bio-chip implants and jamming districts. This was all thanks to his father, and the successful integration that Dr. Rhodes performed. That’s really what created this bizarre culture, and he despised his father after the first trials because of it.

  Governmental approval came quicker than usual.

  Political pressure to reduce the current crime rate made it possible. Many times he thought that it would have been better if he had simply died in that car accident.

  He detested the thought of having to go down to this district, but he needed to. He was a victim of jamming addiction, and there was only one way to quench his thirst: more gamma waves. He needed to find his downtown connection and get jacked.

  Only one more session and I can complete this new pulse drive engine schematic, he thought, trying to convince himself that this would be the last.

  The early drawings he provided to his client had already paid off handsomely. However the majority of his upfront payout would be spent getting AMP’d so he could finish the project. His client promised four-million when he had the completed drawings. They fronted Ben fifty-thousand in good faith, even knowing he was getting the tech from an AMP accelerator module. These units were illegal, but they didn’t care. Company profit outweighed any ethics in this business climate.

  Bell Town was a bad place to be in the middle of the night alone. But he had to go. The craving for the feeling of being jacked-in was overwhelming. He wanted that payoff. He could retire. Move to a better part of town and have plenty of funds to get AMP’d as often as he wished. But he knew none of that would happen unless he took this last trip to downtown.

  Walking across the room, he tucked his data pad inside his coat pocket. Making one more adjustment to the bill of his cap, he walked out the door and locked it with a wave of his hand.

  It was a forty-minute walk to the rail line. Then another fifty-minute ride to his stop a few blocks from his contact.

  Zipping his jacket higher, he shivered in the cool breeze of this chilly September night.

  * * *

  Seattle Washington

  Bell Town

  September 26th2067 20:00

  Bennie stepped off the rail and walked the few blocks to find J, his accelerator hook. He quickly made his way to the 5th Avenue Jammer club.

  Bell Town was home to many jammer dens, where those that have the implant can get a cheap fix. But they were nothing like the illegal accelerators that Ben accessed in the underground. Those fees could add up to several thousand for one session, depending on how much time you bought. The simple jammer pays a hundred dollar entry fee for a night of accelerated dancing. However, they don’t get near the gamma dose as the accelerators modules provide. The benefit of using the smaller gamma modulators was the jammer will lose the feeling as soon as they leave the club. Protection fields surrounded every jamming club. These clubs are legitimate establishments and regulated by the local governments.

  The only guideline imposed was to enforce shielding around their establishments. This was to prevent those with implants, outside of clubs, to be isolated from any spillover of the AMP modulation signal inside.

  Getting an implant was still expensive, 10k for a dirty, and up to 50 to 100 thousand for a clean one. Not many could do it, but once jacked, you would never want it removed.

  Getting jammed at these elite clubs was the wave of the future. The tech begun to gain popularity and started replacing the more toxic substances that people continue to put into their bodies for a high. Since the implant is a chip and not a chemical, the FDA couldn’t stop their licensing of the jamming clubs.

  Ben stepped up to the dark window and leaned close in to shout over the loud music that invaded his eardrums, “Where’s J tonight?”

  The tall burly man inside the booth leaned closer to the mouth-hole in the glass, “I think he’s down on Seneca. If he’s not there, try James.”

  “That’s clear across town!”

  “That’s the way it is buddy…you jammin’ tonight?”

  “No thanks…I need to find J.”

  “Okay, have it your way…just so you know, cover is twenty off tonight.”

  “Thanks. Maybe later.”

  Two scantily dressed women stepped up, each taking an arm, “Come on honey, jam with us.”

  “Yeah, mister. You look like fun.”

  Ben pulled away and smiled, “Thanks baby, but I have to go.”

  The two frowned, turned and left, looking for another who might buy them into the club.

  Another half-hour passed and Ben finally saw J leaning on the wall of Stewart and James, “J!”

  “Wus up, Bennie my man?” the tall black man said. He was a heavy-set figure with broad shoulders and was dressed in an upscale pin-striped suit. He sported a light colored straw hat. J spread his huge arms with his large knuckled hands wide, appearing to be glad to see his client.

  “I need to get AMP’d.”

  “Big surprise,” the man said slyly, sliding a toothpick to the other side of this mouth, “How much time today?”

  “Another five hours.”

  “Five!
?”

  “Yes, only five.”

  “Well, you might want to jump up to the next price level. You sure you don’t want ten or fifteen?”

  “I would like more…but…” Ben said, looking over his shoulder.

  “Relax, Bennie. The feds know…”

  “The feds?”

  “Oh they know.”

  “What do you mean they know? They know about me?”

  “Yeah, they know. Just don’t care.”

  “Why not? It’s illegal!”

  “Yes, but like I said, they don’t care anymore.”

  Bennie continued to look over his other shoulder, “How much?”

  “Ten-thousand.”

  “Ten?” Ben argued, “You only charged me five last time…and I was AMP’d for ten?”

  “Monthly special,” J smiled.

  “Come on man, give me a break…I don’t have that much left.”

  “Uh huh, thas’ what they all say.”

  “No really. I’ve already given you 20k.”

  “You getting’ jacked or not?”

  “Well, yes. Of course…”

  “10k…”

  “I’ll give you five.”

  “It’s a better deal if you pay for ten, you’ll get fifteen.”

  “I can’t stay awake for another fifteen hours…I only need five to complete my project.”

  “Tell ya what. You give me 7k for eight.”

  Ben hesitated for a moment, then agreed, “Okay, okay, you got a deal…come on, come on, come on…let’s do this.”

  “Payment first.”

  Ben held up the back of his hand and J ran his data pad across, making a blip sound as the transaction completed, “Thank you…nice doin’ business,” he smiled through his pearly white teeth.

  “Okay, where to?”

  “Follow me,” J said, reaching down for his brief case, “This way.”

  Bennie followed him up the street and then down a dark alley. There were several addicts that still used the chemical method of forgetting their pain. For them, they could never afford to get an implant.

  Many of them were passed out in their own vomit. The alley had a stench to it that imbedded on his clothes. He remembered that it took three washings to get the stink out the last time he ventured down to one of the accelerators stations.

  J quickly walk down a dark stairwell and sat the case on the step, “Sit down,” he instructed, then unlocked the case passing the back of his hand over it.

  “Wait,” Ben interrupted, “Here? How!”

  “Meet PAM. This is the latest model,” J smiled, “Portable Accelerator Model…now lean forward.”

  Ben followed his instructions and placed his head down. He pulled his long hair out of the way, exposing the back of his neck.

  J brushed any wisps of hair Bennie had missed, exposing the small jack on the back of his neck. He reached into the case for a cord and then carefully plugged it into Ben’s jack.

  “Okay, relax,” he instructed, “This shouldn’t hurt a bit.”

  “Shouldn’t?”

  “You’ll be fine…really, really.”

  J flipped a red switch to power on the box. He moved the control dial to the 50 AMP setting and waited for the unit to complete the charge.

  “What’s taking so long?” Ben asked, his hands shaking again, “It’s never taken this long before.”

  “It’s a portable unit, man. An’ it takes a few to bring the power up…give it a sec,” he looked down on the control console and noticed a message being displayed which read: “Dispense package number 9.”

  He raised his eyebrows and softly whispered to himself, “Okay, whatever you say boss,” and punched in the special code.

  The unit began to spin up making a high pitched squeal and then it discharged. Ben lost consciousness with the powerful surge of gamma rays flooding his bio-chip.

  When he awoke a few minutes later, J was nowhere to be found. He crawled up the cement stairs and looked down the alley in both directions. The alley was empty where before it was littered with passed out bodies.

  He began to feel the effects of the AMP and started to remember his drawing. He thought for a few moments and then smiled. He suddenly knew how to complete the schematic. But he felt different this time. There wasn’t any euphoric effect during or after being jacked into the accelerator unit, “What a rip off! I’m going ta’ Sly next time.”

  He began to walk down the alley and then stopped. He held his shaking hands up and then noticed he was sweating profusely. Losing his balance, he fell to his knees and quivered.

  “What’s happening to me?” he whispered. Then his right hand stopped shaking as he reached for his Glock. Unable to stop himself, his smile turned into a look of horror.

  He fought the feeling of wanting to place the gun in his mouth, but couldn’t resist. He grabbed his hand with his other to try to stop himself from what he was doing. He struggled, but at last, he put the gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger.

  * * *

  Oak Harbor Washington

  Whidbey Island

  Secret Government Building

  Date: September 26th 2067 20:47

  A government aide quietly sat at his computer, then turned to interrupt the General, “Sir, We have successfully downloaded the schematics from the subject.”

  “Excellent,” General McKenzie said, “Is he dead?”

  “Yes, sir,” his aide said, “Very.”

  The General frowned, “Too bad…so sad. Please send my condolences to the family.”

  “That’s Colonel Petersen’s son, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “What should I tell them happened, sir?”

  “Tell the Colonel, when you find him, that his son met with another accident.”

  “Yes, sir,” the technician acknowledged.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 2

  ~ Three Years Earlier ~

  Stanwood Washington

  Annual Skagit County Fireworks Display

  July 4th 2064 23:37

  “Wow, that was some display this year,” Ben said, walking his date back to his car.

  “Yes…it sure was,” Jen answered, taking his hand, strolling slowly along the path.

  “Come on, Jen,” Ben said, approaching his red vintage 2034 Mustang Cobra, “It’ll be fun…I promise not to speed…too fast.”

  “Yeah, right…you’re too much like your father.”

  “Oh come on now, sheesh. Whattya take me for?”

  “Oh never you mind that now,” the short dark haired twenty year old said.

  “Jen…”

  “No…I’m not coming with you, Ben. Your driving scares me sometimes.”

  “Please…”

  “Don’t give me those eyes,” she smiled, brushing her shoulder length hair out of her face, “…I don’t like it when you give me those eyes. You know I can’t resist.”

  The sparkle in her dark brown eyes, as she looked at her young friend, was all Ben needed to see. He knew he’d be getting his way tonight. That much was for sure.

  The two hopped in the front seat. Ben leaned over to give Jen a kiss on her cheek. She blushed and waved her hand to cool her face, “Bennie, you are a charmer.”

  “I hope you had a nice time tonight.”

  “Oh, Bennie…you know I did,” she said lowering her chin and turning her head slightly away.

  “Where’re you taking me anyway?”

  “Oh, I don’ know…home maybe?”

  She swatted at this arm, “Bennie, you are just like your father. No, I don’t think so.”

  “Oh Jen, you’re gonna’ break my heart over up in here.”

  He reached over and playfully bit her chin, then leaned upright and cranked the engine with a varoom.

  “Wow, this is loud.”

  “Yeah, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

  “Man Ben, I didn’t know they even allowed combustion engines on the roads anymore.”

  “Well, ha
ving a colonel for a dad…”

  “…gets you perks…yeah, you keep telling me that.”

  “I can only access the country roads anyway,” Bennie shifted into first gear and sped off, taking a hard left onto the main road. The rear of his car fishtailed from side to side, and spewed gravel as he sped out of the parking lot.

  Jen grabbed her arm rest, “Benjamin! You promised!”

  “Now, now,” he said, “That wasn’t fast.”

  “It was too! Now just take it easy will ya?”

  Ben quickly accelerated through the gears, climbing to 80 miles per hour, “Whoooo! This rocks baby!”

  “Yeah, it’s not as bad as I thought,” she managed to smile through the rush.

  He reached over and punched the tunes which began playing some very vintage rock music from Pink Floyd.

  “Wow, Ben. That’s so cool you still have some of this music.”

  “Yeah, I’m like my dad…”

  “But I thought you said…”

  “…in respect to music. He loved the 80’s and 90’s music area.”

  “Yeah, but that must have been thirty years before your father was born.”

  “He never liked the techno music stuff in 2025. So he opened the music vault, and reintroduced it to me when I was growing up…been hooked ever since.”

  “So, which one is this?”

  “Yeah!” Ben shouted over the music, “This one’s ‘Learning to Fly’ off the ‘A Momentary Lapse of Reason’ album.”

  “Yeah, pretty cool. Speaking of lapses of reason and flying, how’s about slowing down some, huh?”

  “Okay, okay,” Ben relented and slowed to the posted speed of 50 mph.

  “You must love your father.”

  “Yeah, I do…he’s been there even through the divorce.”

  “I’m glad,” Jen said. Taking Ben’s hand, she placed it in her lap.

  Ben raised his eyebrows, “Wow, aren’t you being forward.”

  “I really do care about you, Bennie.”

  “Why the sudden change of heart?”