Rising Tomorrow (Roc de Chere Book 1) by Mariana Morgan (essential reading txt) 📕

banned in the military shortly after the Freedom Wars ended, but PX-47 was still in common use. And she remembered both of them all too well.

‘When the Freedom Wars heated up after the fiasco at New Delhi in the first decade, and the military’s appetite for human cannon fodder increased, there was high pressure to train the replacement troops fast,’ she began, her voice matter-of-fact to keep emotional distance. ‘Nano-hells were used in special cases for years before that, but the speed with which Military Command wanted the Leeches in the front line led to a few dubious improvements in training. Colonel Kraskow, commandant of Leech training camp Delta-83 in the Central Apennines, turned a blind eye on new practices implemented by his drill sergeants. Output from the training camp increased in the 2660s, and that was all that mattered. Soon, other Leech training camps followed.

‘Q9, a potent nano-hell, leaves you trapped inside your own mind, unable to resist. It makes your body ignore basic needs like hunger and tiredness. It’s nasty, but easy to administer, and the body excretes it through the kidneys like clockwork, so a measured dose affects an individual for a fixed amount of time. On its own, it also makes you virtually indifferent to pain as long as the compound is in your bloodstream. It zombifies the troops, makes them press on into the thick of a battle until they die of exhaustion or blood loss.

‘That isn’t particularly beneficial for training though. But that’s where PX-47 comes into play. Don’t ask me about the science, not my strong point, but somehow PX-47 fires up your nerves without affecting the Q9. The two nano-drugs act together, turning you into perfectly trainable cannon fodder incapable of free thinking or resisting. PX-47 sets your nerves on fire, while Q9 forces you to be totally obedient to all orders and to ignore the pain and discomfort on a conscious level. Inside your own head, however, you are howling in agony and frustration.

‘In the early years, Q9 was administered first thing in the morning to ensure compliance. PX-47 was used mainly as punishment, sometimes as a training tool, sometimes because those in power wished to amuse themselves. By the evening the effects of the Q9 usually wore off and you were free to cry yourself to sleep, with or without PX-47’s company.

‘And then, somewhere in the 2670s, a new phase of experiments began to cut down training times and increase effectiveness even further, and Q9 was administered via an implant in steady doses over a longer period of time. The idea was to deprive the Leeches of control over their own bodies and minds until they broke, as quickly as possible, so that they could be remoulded into perfect, mindless, obedient soldier drones. The idea was to leave someone trapped inside their own mind for so long that even the internal voice craving freedom would give up and switch off.

‘Some Leeches had a natural ability to resist Q9, and they were slaughtered because they were deemed untrainable. Resistance wasn’t something the military had patience for. Other Leeches committed suicide, starved to death, exercised themselves into deadly exhaustion or became delusional and reckless, suffering a myriad of injuries that could have easily been avoided in a more sensible training environment. About ten per cent became trapped inside their own minds in a vegetative state, even when the administration of Q9 ceased. These were also slaughtered, a few kept for research and further experimentation.

‘But enough of the Leeches survived to somehow justify the whole barbaric process. After all, the supply of Leeches was virtually never-ending, so no one cared about a few thousand, even hundreds of thousands of warm bodies lost. There isn’t even a mass grave; the bodies were burnt to make space for more.’

Eloise was staring at Ingram, eyes wide in shock, hardly able to breathe. It was too much to understand. Too much to take in. There had to be some justification. There had to be a reason. Something!

‘Wagner might be a sick predator, relishing humiliating and hurting women, but gender really doesn’t matter much these days in the grand scheme of things. Someone I was close with…’ Ingram’s voice became husky for a moment, but then she cleared her throat and pressed on. ‘He killed himself, unwilling to face another day. He used to say he lost track of how many times he was raped. He would say that it didn’t even matter anymore. It was the hopelessness. The awareness that there was nothing any of us could ever do to make any difference…’ Ingram’s voice trailed off again, and she blinked hard, pushing the memory of her friend away.

‘But those Leeches would have died in the slums. They are Leeches… They are less than us…’ Eloise whispered, grasping at the long-ingrained conditioning to make sense of the world that had just been stood on its head. There was no conviction in her voice, though, and Ingram actually managed to stay reasonably calm, recognising that the Elite woman was struggling to process the truth and wasn’t being purposefully dumb or nasty.

‘It wasn’t just Leeches, though,’ Rivas said, his voice unnaturally flat.

‘What?’ Eloise uttered.

‘Q9 and PX-47 were used on Elites as well. The only difference was that Elites entering officer training knew about it upfront, had to consent, absolve the military of any responsibility and keep quiet about it. Of course, the dosing and prescribed rest periods in between were carefully controlled to avoid any dependence, toxicity or mental degeneration. There was no long-term use of Q9, and the nano-drugs the Elites were given were always of excellent quality. Any accidents were properly investigated, and any injuries were fully treated, of course.’

Eloise blinked, her eyes jumping from face to face, searching for a sign that it was all a cruel joke they were playing on her. It couldn’t possibly be true.

‘Did you go through it yourself?’ she asked Rivas.

‘Q9 was officially banned a few years before I joined. But