Armagarden (NeuralTech Rising, Book 3) by Bryon Vaughn

 

Release date: September 1, 2021

Subgenre: Cyberpunk, Technothriller

 

About Armagarden:

 

Getting away from NeuralTech was the easy part.

Staying out of the far-reaching sight of Brenna and the Garden is another matter. It doesn’t help that the Department of Defense is still hunting Jenny Mercado and her man Leo like dogs, and now there is a new mysterious force that threatens to destroy everyone they hold dear.

The very concept of escape is quaint in this brave new world of surveillance, and when their world is brutally shattered, Jenny and Leo must decide whether to keep running, or to find the courage to punch back.

ARMAGARDEN is the thrilling conclusion to the NeuralTech Rising trilogy, and will have readers pondering the nature of memory, and of reality, long after they have read the last page.

 

Excerpt:

 

Chapter 1

U.S. Department of Defense Covert Facility

Parkersburg, West Virginia

0932 hours

“Stick a fork in this one, Frank. I think he’s done.”

Frank tapped the side of his eyeglasses and a heads-up display popped open. The heart monitor on pod twelve was flatlined, no brain activity either. He was deader than dead.

“That makes three this week. Colonel Gupta is gonna have a shit fit.”

“It’s not like it’s our fault, man.”

“That won’t keep him from chewing our asses from here to Sunday.”

Frank walked over to the shiny black lozenge and pressed his palm against the glass. A neon green light glowed beneath his fingertips as the top half of the case lifted upward. Blue fluid flowed from the separating panels in a gush, spilling into a slotted channel at the base. As the liquid drained, the face of a young man, no more than twenty, his hair cropped high and tight, bobbed atop the goo. His eyes were wide open, staring accusingly back at Frank, almost as if questioning how he could have let him come to this end.

“You knew the risks, boy,” Frank muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Never mind, Ruiz. Let’s get this pod reset with the next candidate before the colonel arrives.”

“Yeah, maybe he won’t even notice?”

“Oh, he’ll notice, but at least he won’t be pissed at us for wasting time watching this one pickle in his own juices.”

“Eww, you sure have a way with words, Frankie.”

The pod was nearly empty, the body slumped against the glass wall, dripping and mucusy. Two service droids drove hooks into the meat of his chest and dragged him from the pod and hoisted him into a metal cart. A trail of blue slime was the only trace of his existence as the droids pushed the cart from the room with a metallic whirr.

“Go get the next subject and I’ll prep the load-in sequence.”

“You got it, chief!”

“I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

“Don’t get all butthurt, man. It’s just a figure of speech.”

Ruiz whistled as he strolled out of the room toward the row of padded cells lining the west side of the facility. Frank shivered at his nonchalance, but death had become so matter-of-fact over the last two months, he would have probably sung along if he could figure out what the hell he was trying to whistle.

“Make this one female!” Frank called out as Ruiz turned the corner out of view. “They seem to last longer.”

 

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About Bryon Vaughn:

 

Ever since reading Douglas Adams back in my formative years, I have had an interesting relationship with humor, science fiction, and technology. My first computer was a TI-99/4A, so yeah, I’m old, but only until scientists have cracked the code on transplanting our brains into shiny new vessels.

My body may be showing signs of wear, but I’m keeping my brain tight. 

When I am not dreaming of far off worlds and writing, I am living a semi-normal life working in New York City, and watching movies with my wife and her spastic cat, Moss.

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