Excerpt from GUINEA PIG by Greg Curtis

Guinea Pig 

By Greg Curtis

SYNOPSIS:   

Ten thousand dollars. 

It was a lot of money for a simple injection. It was a lot of money for a student. And the one thing that William Simons knew about the research trial was that it was safe. 

Of course he said yes. 

But that was before he discovered that Doctor Millen had a secret agenda. Before he discovered that what he'd been given wasn't the same as what the other subjects had been given. And it was before his body started to transform into something else. Something not human. 

It was also before a series of inexplicable natural disasters started to destroy Los Angeles. 

GREG SAYS:

I particularly liked it for its over the top description as it showed the clinic room, but also because it contrasts so completely with what happens in the room. Doctors in white coats, in white clinic rooms we sort of associate with professional medical care. They are in our thoughts places where only the highest possible standards of care exist. By contrast mad scientists live in abandoned castles and underground labs and concepts like professionalism and sterility go out the window. And I wanted very much to make my mad scientist the consumate professional so that it became almost impossible for the hero to understand what he had done when things started going wrong.

EXCERPT:

The clinic room was sterile in every sense of the word. While there was no chance of any bacteria having survived on the sparkling white tiles of the floor or the lustrous white laminate walls, there was also no chance of any human warmth surviving there either. It had no personality. No colour – literally. Nothing of any real interest. Even the air stank of antiseptic without the benefit of the usual fake floral bouquets found in hospitals.

But that was as it was meant to be Will supposed. And at least the chair was comfortable. A nice leather recliner that would have been more than welcome in his tawdry student flat. Except for the colour of course. It too was sterile white.

The only things that really stood out against the tyranny of white were the ring of machines surrounding him which had patches of colour here and there, the faces of Doctor Millen and his assistants, and the little flashes of colour on the various monitors as they displayed his vitals. It might have helped if the medical staff weren't all wearing white full length lab coats done up tight. But they were probably worn for reasons of sterility as well. Either that or to blend in with the walls.

But why the need for so much white? That was the thing he didn't understand. It was over the top and then some. Sure, it was a clinic and medical settings seemed to go for the white look.  But it wasn’t as if it was a surgery. He wasn't about to be cut open. It was a simple injection. It could be done in a field with a plastic needle and an iodine swab.

Still, when there was ten thousand dollars riding on the procedure he guessed he could live with a little white.

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Excerpt from Replica by Lexi Revellian

Replica

By Lexi Revellian

BLURB: Accidentally duplicated, homeless, penniless and pursued by MI5, Beth’s replica must learn how   to survive on icy London streets. Unaware of what has happened, the original Beth falls for the agent hunting her double. As the replica proves difficult to catch and the stakes get higher, he has to decide whose side he is on.

LEXI SAYS: This is an extract from my science fiction thriller, Replica. It introduces Nick Cavanagh, MI5 spec op. He’s hunting a replica who has been accidentally created and is on the run. I wanted Nick to be not entirely likeable; I wanted readers to be unsure about whether he was a goodie or a baddie. I ride a bike in London, so to get his ambivalence clear in my head, I started with his bad driving; the sort of thing I encounter and resent every day. Nick was a lot of fun to write.

EXTRACT: 

Nick drove too fast along Kensington High Street, cutting up other drivers and speeding through amber lights, tailgating anyone who in his opinion should be driving faster.

Ollie waited till they had to stop at a red light. “What’s the rush? Paul and Dario are there if the target turns up. They’ll think it funny us arriving two hours early, anyway.”

“I don’t give a toss what they think. They let her get away.” Nick’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel. The lights changed, and he accelerated, making a woman jump back to the safety of the traffic island. “If I’d been there I’d have got her. Pete should have sent us.”

“He didn’t expect her to turn up at her flat.”

“No, and I bet when she did Paul was making a cup of tea and Dario was going through her underwear drawer.”

Ollie laughed. “So what can we do they can’t?”

“We’re going to do it better. Stay out of sight in the van and wait for her to turn up again. Follow Beth One wherever she goes. Getting to her has to be what replica Beth is playing for. The two Beths talk to the press, it’s out, nothing we can do, game over.”

“So we’ll be off our other jobs for as long as it takes, I suppose. Nice break for the terrorists.”

Nick was quiet for a while, then he said, “Maybe.”

“How d’you mean, maybe?”

“Just, I can’t see Pete throwing in the towel. Saying, oh, all right, now you two totally unimportant secretaries, who just happen to have got mixed up in this top secret research we’ve spent millions of pounds on know about each other, we’ll accept it and go public.” Nick braked hard to avoid collision with a cycle courier, then hit the accelerator. “There’s no way he’ll risk that happening.”

Ollie gripped the handle above the door. “Take it easy, Nick.”

“D’you ever worry about the ethics of what we do?”

“Not a lot. I’m too busy worrying about your driving.”

“Okay, but what about this; supposing catching her is harder than everyone seems to think? He isn’t going to keep all of us running around after her forever. I’d give it a week, maybe two, tops. He’s a ruthless bastard. I reckon, if we don’t find her fast, the original will go missing. Then if the copy turns up, it’s like, boring secretary loses marbles, gets persecution complex, thinks MI5 are after her, goes on the run, ends up in padded accommodation with no one believing a word she says. To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t done it already. He must be going soft in his old age.”

Ollie smiled at Nick. “If we can’t catch her in a week we’re not trying. Are you worrying about the ethics of it, then?”

“Me? No. I do what I’m told, I get paid. End of.”

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