Page 20 of The Sterling Acquisition (Manufactured Mates #1)

Chapter thirteen

Intelligence Gathering

Dante

The SVI research facility felt different at night—hollow and echoing, with most of the corporate bustle replaced by skeleton crews and the hum of equipment that never slept. Dante waited in the shadows near the service entrance, checking his watch.

Duckie Chang was ten minutes late, which either meant he had cold feet about their arrangement or campus security was being more thorough than usual.

Fifty thousand iscs. The number had been more than enough to secure Duckie’s cooperation, especially when Dante framed it as “preserving valuable research” rather than corporate espionage.

But money wasn’t Duckie’s only motivation—Dante saw the hesitation in his eyes when discussing Project Tether, the discomfort of someone involved in something they couldn’t fully justify to themselves.

A door clicked open, and Duckie’s nervous face appeared in the gap. The harsh lighting cast his features in sickly green shadows, making him look even more anxious than he likely was.

“You came,” he said, relief evident in his voice.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” Dante slipped through the door, noting how Duckie began looking over his shoulder. “Relax. You’re doing consulting work for interested parties. Nothing more complicated than that.”

Duckie led him through a maze of corridors that Dante hadn’t seen during his official tour. Their footsteps echoed on scuffed linoleum, the sound seeming unnaturally loud in the empty hallways. “Dr. Morrison’s lab is in the restricted section. Officially, I’m here doing equipment maintenance.”

“And unofficially?”

“Unofficially, I’m about to show you research that could revolutionize human behavior modification.” Duckie sounded both proud and guilty. “Or destroy everything we claim to believe about personal autonomy.”

“Why are you really doing this?” Dante asked, studying the younger man’s profile. “Fifty thousand iscs is substantial, but not life-changing for someone with your credentials.”

Duckie’s face faltered. “My sister was in one of Elysian’s ‘compatibility trials’ last year. Their version of emotional manipulation. She’s...” He swallowed hard. “She’s not the same person anymore. Still talks like her, looks like her, but there’s something missing behind her eyes.”

Dante nodded, understanding. This wasn’t just about money—it was personal. “And you see the same potential in Project Tether?”

“Worse, actually. Much worse.” Duckie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “This... this makes people think it was their idea all along.”

They walked in relative silence through increasingly secure sections of the facility. Dante catalogued security measures, exit routes, personnel schedules—all the intelligence Gensyn would want about SVI’s capabilities. But his focus kept drifting to what Duckie said about behavior modification.

What had Morrison developed? And why did he want Orion to be a test subject?

“Here,” Duckie said, stopping at a reinforced door marked with biometric scanners and warning signs. “Dr. Morrison’s private lab. This is where Project Tether lives.” Duckie pressed his palm against the scanner, then entered a complex code.

The door opened with a soft hiss, releasing a wave of cold, antiseptic-laden air that made Dante’s nostrils burn.

The laboratory beyond looked more like a medical facility than a research lab—gleaming stainless steel restraint tables, IV stands with computerized delivery systems, monitoring equipment designed for subjects who wouldn’t be cooperative participants.

“Christ,” Dante breathed.

“Wait until you see the actual research.” Duckie moved to a workstation and began pulling up files on the computer.

His fingers trembled as he navigated through layers of security.

“Project Tether isn’t just about compliance—it’s about creating genuine emotional attachment through chemical intervention. ”

The screen filled with technical specifications that made Dante’s blood run cold. Chemical formulations designed to alter neurotransmitter production, protocols for inducing artificial bonding responses, and dosage charts that correlated with body weight and resistance levels .

“This is forced bonding technology,” Dante said. His stomach clenched.

“More than that. Look at this.” Duckie pulled up another file filled with psychological profiles and projected test results.

“The subjects don’t just become compliant—they become attached to their handlers.

They believe their feelings are real, authentic.

Complete emotional subjugation disguised as love. ”

Project Tether didn’t just break someone’s will—it convinced them they’d never had will to begin with.

It was psychological murder disguised as therapy.

“How many test subjects have there been?” Dante asked, his voice rougher than he intended.

“This will be the first human trial. Morrison’s been perfecting the formula using animal models for months.

” Duckie’s voice was quiet, ashamed. He pulled up a video file that showed a series of caged animals—some docile, others aggressive.

“The results on the test animals were complete personality restructuring within 72 hours. No resistance, no memory of their previous behavioral patterns.”

The video continued, showing the same animals after treatment.

The transformation was unsettling—previously aggressive animals now pressed against the bars seeking contact with researchers, eyes vacant and adoring.

One subject, a large canine that had been snarling in earlier footage, now whimpered pathetically when the researcher stepped away, desperate for continued contact.

“Where are the animal subjects now?”

“Reassigned to various research departments as ‘success stories.’ Docile, entirely attached to their handlers.” Duckie pulled up another file, this one filled with research footage and behavioral assessments.

“Look at these behavioral changes. Aggressive animals becoming submissive, feral subjects seeking constant contact with researchers. ”

The footage showed test animals following researchers like shadows, displaying distress when separated from specific handlers, and performing behaviors that would have been impossible before the treatment.

The clinical notes beside each video catalogued the changes with detached scientific precision, as if the complete destruction of natural personality was merely an interesting data point.

Dante looked at the video files and felt sick, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead.

He’d seen countless examples of behavioral modification across territories, but nothing like this—nothing that so completely erased the original personality while leaving the subject believing they were still themselves.

“And Morrison wants to use untested technology on Leo’s Omega?” he asked, though it wasn’t really a question. His voice was flat, professional training kicking in to mask the growing fury beneath.

“Test Subject Number One,” Duckie confirmed, pulling up a new file that made Dante’s vision narrow to a tunnel, his peripheral awareness fading as he focused on the screen.

“The first human trial. Morrison thinks using a virgin subject will provide the cleanest data—no previous bonding to complicate the artificial attachment process.”

There, on the screen, was Orion’s photograph alongside detailed medical information and psychological assessments.

The image showed him glaring at the camera, eyes blazing with the same defiance Dante witnessed firsthand.

The clinical assessments labeled this as “extreme resistance pathology” rather than the fierce independence Dante knew it to be.

Subject Profile: Test Subject #1 Age: 26 Designation: Omega, Virgin, Unclaimed Current Handler: Leo James, Research Associate Resistance Level: Extreme Recommended Protocol: Full Tether Implementation with Anchor/Link sequence

Treatment Protocol - Test Subject #1: Hour 1: Initial sedation and baseline psychological mapping Hour 2: Anchor serum administration (establishes biochemical receptivity) Hour 4: Link catalyst injection with bonding initiation to Handler James Hours 6-24: Monitoring for integration and adverse reactions

The rest of the file was marked with security restrictions that even Duckie couldn’t access.

Dante stared at Orion’s photograph, something primal and possessive twisting in him.

The thought of Orion being strapped to one of those tables, pumped full of chemicals designed to make him adore Leo of all people, made his vision blur with rage.

His hands were shaking, he realized distantly, a physical response he hadn’t experienced since his earliest training days.

Twenty years of Gensyn conditioning didn’t prepare him for this visceral reaction to seeing someone he—

What? Desired? That was certainly true, but incomplete. Respected? Also true, but still insufficient. The realization that he couldn’t categorize his feelings for Orion within standard corporate parameters was itself disturbing, a sign of how far he’d already strayed from his training.

“When is this scheduled?” Dante asked, his voice controlled despite the irregular pounding of his heart .

“Soon. Morrison’s been waiting for the right biological timing.

” Duckie’s discomfort was obvious as he gestured toward a scheduling terminal across the lab.

“An exact date is in Morrison’s private system if the Omega doesn’t hit a full heat soon, they’ll use an accelerant to make it happen.

He keeps the timeline locked down with triple biometric security—retinal, voice, and DNA verification.

He’s paranoid about corporate espionage, especially after what happened with the Chimera Syndicate leak last year. ”

“Elaborate,” Dante said, moving toward the scheduling terminal.

“Morrison had another project—behavioral pheromone manipulation—that got leaked to Elysian. He lost months of research advantage, and three researchers were executed for industrial espionage. The SVI board denied knowing about it.” Duckie’s voice dropped even lower.

“Since then, critical scheduling and implementation details are compartmentalized. I only know it’s happening soon because Morrison’s been having us prepare the holding cells and calibrate the delivery systems.”

Dante examined the terminal, confirming Duckie’s assessment. The security was beyond what he could bypass in a single visit without specialized equipment.

“I’ll need copies of what you can access,” Dante said. “The technical specifications, the treatment protocols you’ve shown me.”

“I can’t copy everything—the system logs data transfers, and Morrison monitors access to classified files.” Duckie hesitated. “But I could transfer some of the basic research, maybe a few key documents. Enough to demonstrate the technology without triggering security alerts. ”

“Do it.”

Duckie began a selective transfer, his movements nervous. “Just... be careful with this information. If Morrison discovers there’s been unauthorized access...”

“Complete discretion,” Dante assured him. “Our clients understand the value of maintaining operational security.”

A few minutes later, Duckie handed him a data drive containing a fraction of the Project Tether research—enough to prove the technology existed, not enough to reveal the full scope of Morrison’s operation.

“That’s all I can safely provide without raising suspicions,” Duckie said. “The rest is locked behind biometric security I can’t bypass yet.”

Dante pocketed the drive, already planning his next moves. The intelligence was valuable but incomplete. Before he could risk a full extraction of both Orion and the research, he needed more information.

And he needed to make sure Orion understood what was coming for him.

Back in his apartment, Dante connected the data drive and began reviewing what Duckie had been able to provide. The files were limited but damning—enough technical specifications to understand how Project Tether worked, enough protocol information to know what they planned to do to Orion.

But not enough to know when.

Dante composed a brief report for Amalie, uploading the basic Project Tether specifications along with his assessment that this represented a significant breach of corporate ethics standards.

Gensyn would want to know that SVI was developing forced bonding technology, regardless of how the current situation resolved.

But as he wrote the clinical assessment, he found himself omitting certain details—specifically, Orion’s name and his growing interest in extracting Orion from the situation.

Standard procedure would be to report all aspects of the operation, including all information regarding potential asset acquisition.

His decision to withhold information was itself a breach of protocol, a small but significant crack in his many years of perfect compliance.

The real question was what to do about Orion.

The smart play was to complete his original mission—steal the full research when he had better access, extract what intelligence he could, and return to Gensyn with valuable corporate secrets. Clean, professional, by the book.

The problem was that “by the book” meant leaving Orion to Morrison’s experiment.

Dante stared at Orion’s photograph in the subject file, remembering the fury on his face, the magnificent way he fought even when his body was working against him. The thought of that brilliant, defiant mind being chemically altered into grateful compliance made the room feel too small.

Even more disturbing was the realization that Gensyn might not view Project Tether as a travesty to be prevented, but as technology to be acquired.

They might see Orion not as someone to be saved, but as a valuable test subject already undergoing a procedure they would want to replicate.

The distinction between Gensyn’s methods and SVI’s suddenly seemed much less clear than it had a week ago.

He had to find a way to communicate the threat without compromising his cover, and to assess whether Orion would trust him enough to cooperate with an escape plan.

Because saving someone who didn’t want to be saved was a very different operation from extracting a willing asset.