Excerpt of Through Neon Eyes: Zoner by Michael Barnette
Book Two of the Through Neon Eyes monthly series
Released January 2007
Available from Mojocastle Press LLC

David Jessman has it all. A great job, a wonderful home and wealth. What he doesn't have is a lover, but that's about to change...

He waited for the person he had hired for the evening with a mixture of anticipation and just a tiny thrill of fear.

"This one's supposed to be the best, right?"

The soft, soothing voice of his Environmental Control and Security Unit--the NeuroTech EnCoSet 2400, the newest in personal environmental maintenance and personal security--replied: "Yes, Mr. Jessman."

The man got up from his chair, his lightly muscled body pale in the artificial sunlight that radiated from the overhead lamps. Real sunlight was considered too dangerous, the outside air too polluted for safety. But the company provided everything he wanted; fresh air, and clean, safe place to live. The company even had an enclosed court for tennis, and a par three golf course in the bottom level and a full gym complete with pool, whirlpools and saunas. All this was his without too many soul-wrenching fears….

Ever since he'd been 'recruited' away from the Megalli-Loran Corporation--recruited being the current term for the kidnapping of key personnel from another corporation these days--he had been on edge. MLC wouldn't simply take the loss of their Chief of Computer Research and Development quietly. But he'd been taken from MLC by a skilled 'hiring team' from NeuroTech over three months ago and there hadn't been so much as an attempt to 'retro-actively de-hire' him by the MLC's notorious anti-personnel team. And NeuroTech was paying him far better than he had expected--even better than MLC had done, which was an added bonus.

He paced the floor, his reflection flickering eerily in the large sections of bullet proof glass that covered the windows of his spacious apartment. Fifty-eight floors above the ground the only chance to come in through that way would be via helicopter, and the winds at this elevation in the heart of the Centralized Corporate area were too strong for a helicopter to navigate with impunity. And the glass, tough as it was, wouldn't hold up against his greatest fear: a rocket launched grenade or missile. But then, those would have to be launched from a nearby structure, and the closest structure was another corporation's tower.

The buzzer alerted him to the presence of someone seeking entry into the NeuroTech Corporate Enclave.

"Visual off, he commanded the telecom unit." A green light on the control center flashed to the warm orange of 'stand-by' mode as he began to dress. "Yes?"

"You have a visitor, sir," the voice of the front desk security officer said. "Your, visuals are out, is there a problem, sir?"

"No, no problem. I'm not dressed for a pubic appearance. You understand."

There was a slight pause, then the guard replied, "Of course, sir."

Jessman wondered what the man was thinking then. If the person he'd requested was all he had been led to believe he or she was... well then maybe the guard was jealous. Or maybe not.

"Do I let him in or not, sir?"

Him. A man then. He shivered a bit in anticipation. Jessman hadn't been with another man in a good many months, not since before his arrival at NeuroTech, and the thought of another man sent a thrill of eagerness through him.

"Does he have the security key?"

After a moment's silence the guard's voice relied, "Yes, sir, he does."

"Then send him up."

Jessman checked his reflection in the mirror beside his door. His short, dark hair was neat, his forest green silk shirt and pants were immaculate and spoke of an affluence that was the norm for a highly regarded researchers for a major corporation.

He checked his teeth, perfect and white, the best implants money could buy--some of his own teeth having been lost when the 'hiring team' had subdued him those many weeks ago. NeuroTech had even been even been kind enough give him the facial-sculpt that made him even more physically attractive than he'd originally been. Not that he'd been unattractive, but he had been a fool to struggle when NeuroTech's hiring team had come for him. After he'd actually managed to punch one of them the men hadn't been gentle in subduing him, their team breaking his nose and jaw which cost him those lost teeth.

He greatly appreciated NeuroTech's generosity in repairing the damage since MLC hadn't updated his look in several years and he'd still been wearing the cheekbones and chin that had been popular five years ago. Not only had NeuroTech made the cosmetic physical changes, they'd added the latest in neurological hardware to sweeten the deal even more. Jessman now had the best available piece of thoughtware NeuroTech had to offer; and the interface was cool-wired directly into his brainstem. Now he could jack into the Net, or an entertainment simvideo without any static coming over a warm-wire like the one he'd been given by MLC. Though they'd been a very good company to work for, their thoughtware interface couldn't compare with what NeuroTech--who specialized in such hardware--had at their disposal.

Yes, all in all he'd made out quite well when NeuroTech had proactively hired him away from his former employers. He'd even gained a higher salary and been put in charge of his own research lab, something that hadn't been in the foreseeable future at MCL.

The door chimed and the EnCoSet's gender neutral voice spoke, "You have a visitor."

Jessman's heart jumped.

He took a deep breath, hurried to the couch and sat. "You may let him in."

There was a soft click, and the door swung soundlessly open.

He was smaller than Jessman had anticipated, maybe 5'7", and he was dressed all in dully gleaming black leather. His hair was the color of cornsilk and fell in a mass of tight braids down over his shoulders, down his chest almost to the archaic looking gunbelt that rode his slim hips. Fastened in the wild tangle of braids were dozens of tiny silver bells, a riot of feathers and neon bright glass beads the shade of a simvideo summer sky.

"Hello, Mr. Jessman." His voice was a dulcet tenor, bordering on a baritone. Low and sexy.

Jessman stared, his dark eyes widening. This wasn't what he had expected. Not at all.

This gunwhore was supposed to be the best money could buy. Somewhere between a body guard and a common prostitute, a gunwhore was supposed to be the ultimate in personal protection, and sexual partnership all rolled up in one neat package. This one was reputed to be the best his agent could locate from out of the morass of crushing poverty that was the Liberty City FreeZone; a lawless part of the city where survival was determined with fists, feet, knives, and guns. He'd expected a ruggedly scarred man, not the beautiful boy who was standing before him now. This wasn't a real FreeZoner. Couldn't be. The boy was probably just one of the company's many prostitutes, all dressed up to play at being a FreeZoner to keep an employee happy--and safe. Jessman sighed and tried to hide his disappointment.

Neon bright eyes the color of summer lightning gazed at him from a behind half-closed eyelids. The brilliant color of those eyes left no doubt in Jessman's mind. This boy had probably never even seen the FreeZone, much less lived there. Neon color like that cost plenty of money. More than a FreeZoner would see in a lifetime.

"Come in," he managed to say as he stood to greet his visitor, his momentary lapse in composure quickly replaced with the smooth politeness of a man used to the politics of the corporate ladder. He was still disappointed, but he'd make the best of the situation.

The young man stepped into the apartment, his eyes taking in the luxuriousness of the thick cream colored carpeting, the dark leather upholstered furniture and the glass and brass tables. Expensive neo-renaissance prints hung on the off-white walls. The neon lighting of the youth's eyes burned over everything, as if making permanent digital visual records of the scene, his eyes missing nothing of importance.

Jessman held his hand out as though greeting a business associate.

The boy's cool gaze caused him to withdraw his offered hand.

Well trained to his role as a Zoner, Jessman thought. Well, two can play the game. Jessman decided they would both play their roles, even if all they were doing was playing.

"Would you like to have a drink?" Jessman asked. "I have some scotch and a bit of bourbon."

"Either is fine," the boy replied, the rich quality of his voice softly modulated. Jessman decided it was a cyber-enhancement too, and he wondered what else the youth had enhanced. Speculation sent a thrill though Jessman. Maybe this will turn out better than I have anticipated. He poured them both drinks and discovered that he was shaking a bit. Even though the boy wasn't what he had expected, his beauty and grace sent a shock of wanting though Jessman. Yes, this might just turn out all right.

The boy took the glass from him, glanced coolly at it, then downed the scotch in one swallow. He smiled a slow smile at Jessman and held out the glass again. "I could have another go at some more of that, sir."

Jessman nodded and poured a bit more for the boy, staring at the slender fingers that held the crystal drinking glass. There were small scars on his knuckles, the kind you got from punching people in the teeth according to the all adventure simvideos Jessman had linked into. He 'remembered' looking down and 'seeing' them on himself while he was taking part in the simvideo environment. That had been a good simvideo. One where he'd been a gun toting FreeZoner, hot-wired for speed, enhanced for endurance and strength and able to hold his own in any bar room brawl or gun fight on the street. He'd linked to that particular sim over and over again, and each time it had been different, unique. And the sex had been wonderful….

Of course, he knew the scars were, like the rest of the boy's appearance, simply enhancements for the part he was playing tonight. Or does he play it every night? Jessman wondered absently.

While he watched the boy moved nearer to the EnCoSet's main console, looking at the touchpad controls and the system settings with mild interest. Jessman had to admit the boy was good in his role, studying the EnCoSet with half-lidded eyes and a slight smile on his face.

"Mr. Jessman?"

Still thinking about the lost simvideo, he came back to himself with a slight start. "Yes?"

Faster than he could have believed, the boy moved in, and a small device pressed against his stomach. "I'm glad I found you so easily, Mr. Jessman. The Megalli-Loran Corporation says hello."

He felt the sting of the needle, and wondered vaguely why the EnCoSet's alarm wasn't going off before the darkness closed in.

Purchase Through Neon Eyes: Zoner. Zoner is also available at Fictionwise and in print from Genre Connections.