Judith Leon - Code Name - Dove

When the Indian scientist picked up, Maurus said, “I’m coming to the laboratory.”

He strode across his office and into the underground hallway that connected the office to Singh’s lab. He found Singh standing between two rows of laboratory benches, the small glass-enclosed experimental chamber behind him. Sitting in the chamber, bound to a straight-backed chair, was a young woman Maurus didn’t recognize.

Singh said, “I trust your trip was successful, Herr Maurus.”

Despite his general disgust for the forty-year-old scientist, Maurus usually experienced the thin, balding Indian’s singsong accent as soothing. Now, however, the soft words merely irritated. Again out of habit Maurus stroked his limp cheek. “I am reviewing the buildup of fighting manpower. We are behind schedule.”

“Yes. There is a problem. But it’s not serious.”

“From the moment of the first public demonstration of The Founder’s power, any delay in our plans is serious. We are being hunted now, by every powerful agency in the world. We must move swiftly. Why have dedications with the Loyalty Inducer fallen off?”

Singh inhaled a breath. His thin hands fluttered nervously at his sides. “The Loyalty Inducer is unique among our suite of drugs. You see, unlike sleep and fear and so forth, loyalty is a higher cognitive process. Our more primitive inducers, the Sleep Inducer for example, can affect any subject, but the Loyalty Inducer functions only on persons strongly sympathetic to the person on whom they will be imprinted.”

“I don’t like what I hear. Neither will The Founder. What about the Fight Inducer? The drug is critical for my commando operations. All of the damned drugs are critical to everything we do. Does this ‘small problem’ happen often?”

Singh gave him the obsequious smile that played more than a small part in fomenting Maurus’s loathing of the man. “Transition from producing small quantities of the drugs for experiments to a larger scale must inevitably entail some difficulties.”

The Indian scientist wrung his hands. The enforcer knew he superficially scared Singh, but Singh knew his value only too well. Fifteen years ago, this brilliant non-entity had developed and offered The Founder the first drug—the Sleep Inducer—and the promise of many related drugs tailored to regulate human behavior. The drugs were not only capable of bending people’s minds and wills, what made them particularly useful—and frightening—was that they had the astonishing ability to be delivered to the brain through the nasal passages. One inhalation and the subject, or victim, succumbed. In return, for fifteen years Maurus had, at The Founder’s direction, supplied Dr. Sanjiv Singh with his “recreation”—little boys.

Maurus noticed that the girl in the chamber hadn’t moved so much as an eyebrow. He nodded toward the girl. “Who the hell is she and what’s wrong with her?”

“Ah. She is Helmut’s latest girl. He finished with her and I asked if I could use her. I’ve just tested my latest drug on her. The first human test. I call it a Pacification Inducer. Seems to have worked perfectly.”

“Why doesn’t she move?”

“The drug is essentially a permanent, chemically induced lobotomy. She will live and carry out all basic functions, but she no longer has any will.”

“A damn vegetable!”

“Yes. Quite right. Quite useful as a threat or blackmail weapon, don’t you think?”

Maurus rubbed his dead cheek. “You’re a scary man, Singh.”

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