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Immortal Matrix
Immortal Matrix
Immortal Matrix
Ebook194 pages3 hours

Immortal Matrix

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In the year 2217, Amarah is a donor for the Immortal Matrix, practically a slave, owned by a pharmaceutical corporation. Almost eighteen, she's destined to be joined to a recipient to keep them young and fit while she does all the work. Her life is grim, except when it comes to a boy in her pod, Dyer, who means more to her than is allowed.

Amarah and Dyer are sent to the pool of donors early, and their lives and feelings for each other are put to the test. She gets caught up with a group that wants to end the Immortal Matrix, and soon will find out how strong she really is, and how far she'll go to keep Dyer as her own.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 2, 2017
ISBN9781988659251
Immortal Matrix
Author

Marisa Chenery

Marisa Chenery was always a lover of books, but after reading her first historical romance novel she found herself hooked. Having inherited a love for the written word, she soon started writing her own novels. She now writes young adult books and erotic romances. Marisa lives in Ontario, Canada, with her four children, four grandchildren (she’s a young grandma in her fifties) and three rabbits.

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    Immortal Matrix - Marisa Chenery

    Chapter One

    Amarah hadn’t known any other life. Since birth, she’d been raised in the best conditions to guarantee a healthy body and brain. She had a role to play. One she’d been born into.

    She set her gaze to the transparent screen that projected out of the top of the treadmill she jogged on. It displayed a documentary about the twenty-first century, a time before she’d been born, and before the Immortal Matrix had been created. A world that no longer existed in the year 2217.

    Did you hear what happened to Claire and Brent?

    Amarah turned her head to the left to look at the girl who ran on the treadmill next to hers. She was the same age as Amarah. Instead of long, blonde hair like Amarah’s, Lucy had red, but they each had blue eyes. They wore the same clothes—dark gray form-fitting athletic pants and light gray tank tops. The boys in the room wore that outfit as well.

    Lucy was a gossip, and could be relied on to know everything that happened in their pod. No, I haven’t.

    They were caught together after curfew. Doing the forbidden. Lucy looked around before she whispered, Kissing.

    Amarah scanned the room and noticed two treadmills were empty. That could only mean Brent and Claire were being punished. Not physically, since their handlers would do nothing to jeopardize the profit those two would bring in once they reached eighteen years of age.

    Everyone in the fitness room was part of the donor class, or slave class as Amarah thought of it. They were of the same generation, all seventeen, almost eighteen, and were the donor half of the Immortal Matrix. Not that they had any choice about it.

    Amarah shook her head. They were foolish. They knew what the consequences would be if they were found out. It wasn’t worth the risk.

    Lucy chuckled. Claire and Brent must have thought it was. They were always making lovey-dovey eyes at each other all the time. I’m sure the handlers noticed and waited for them to mess up so they could catch them.

    It was true. The pair’s closeness would have been noted by the handlers. Intimacy of any kind between donors was strictly forbidden. In their station, all aspects of their life were dictated to them. They had no choices, were never offered a chance to plan how they wanted to live as other people did. Especially, like the rich.

    Amarah turned her gaze back to the documentary, which she didn’t really pay too close attention to. Lucy kept talking about Brent and Claire. Amarah was finished with that subject. What was done was done, and thinking about the pair wouldn’t change anything.

    One of their handlers stepped into the room and went to stand in the front where everyone could see him. They had two handlers—a man and a woman. Their pod had fifty donors made up of twenty-five girls and twenty-five boys, the number and ratio was the same for each pod.

    Cliff was Amarah’s pod’s male handler, and had been with them since their birth. Most handlers watched over two pods during their careers. This was Cliff’s first, and once all the donors reached the age of eighteen and were part of the Immortal Matrix, he’d start with a bunch of newborns again.

    With a quick clearing of his throat, Cliff gained everyone’s attention before he spoke. Please turn off your treadmills and gather in front of me.

    Amarah quickly did as requested, as did all the others in the room. In an orderly fashion and silently, they formed a two-row semi-circle around Cliff. His gaze briefly settled on each one of them.

    Very good, he said. There are two things I will speak to you about before you leave to your required exercise for the day. He paused and looked at the entire group once more. You’ll have noticed Claire and Brent have been removed from the pod. They broke the rules, and are being dealt with. They will not be returning. Since they will reach their eighteenth year in a few weeks, they have been put into the pool of come-of-age donors to be matched with recipients.

    Brent and Claire wouldn’t have a chance to be together—ever. Donors were watched more closely in the pool, and in the adult pods, than in the juvenile pods. Unsanctioned pregnancies were to be prevented at all costs. Donors had no choice when it came to reproducing, which was decided not by nature but by those higher up in the pharmaceutical corporation that owned them.

    Amarah looked at the others as Cliff continued to speak, stressing how important it was to follow the rules. Her gaze landed on Dyer, a boy who would turn eighteen two days after she did. His brown hair was cut short, same as the rest of the boys. His green eyes were focused on their handler. As if he felt her staring, he flicked them in her direction for a brief second. They were friends, but in the last couple of months he’d been doing his best not to interact with her. She didn’t know why.

    She focused back on their handler. Cliff wound down his speech, then dismissed them to continue with their scheduled timetable. He walked out of the room, and her pod spread out either continuing their cardio exercise or heading to the various weight-training machines.

    Amarah went to the latter. She’d done the minimum of cardio that she needed to do for the day. She preferred the weight training. The pull and strain on her muscles somehow always settled her mind. Lately, she’d been thinking too much for her own good. It mostly had to do with her birthday looming so close. She’d be eighteen in two months. Her life would drastically change on that date.

    After two hours of required exercise were completed, her pod went to the showers to wash the sweat away and change. The boys had their separate shower area from the girls, of course. They would come together again in the cafeteria to eat lunch, then it was off to the school room for lessons for the rest of the day.

    In the shower room, Amarah headed to an empty stall. She stepped inside and closed the glass door behind her. After she toed off her runners, she stripped out of her sweaty clothes, then gathered them up. She pulled open the small door built into one wall and shoved them inside. With a whoosh, they dropped out of sight to be laundered.

    Water at just the right temperature sprayed from the showerhead when she stepped under it. She closed her eyes and tipped back her head to wet her hair. Amarah took her time washing. Only there did it feel as if she were alone. Not that she really was, since there were others in stalls on either side of hers. The small, enclosed space just made her feel that way, so she enjoyed it.

    After she finished washing, Amarah stepped out from under the stream of water, and it automatically turned off. A section of the ceiling opened directly above her, and a clear tube lowered to surround her completely. Warm air was pumped into it, drying her hair and body at the same time. The tube lifted, and a small door opened in the wall to reveal a set of clean clothes.

    She pulled on the white bra and panties, then what she was required to wear during school hours and the rest of her day. The outfit consisted of the same style athletic pants she’d worn while exercising, except these were black, and a dark charcoal long-sleeved T-shirt. The boys would have donned the same outfit. The sexes weren’t allowed to dress differently.

    Amarah slipped on her runners and then ran the provided brush through her hair before she exited the stall. She looked around to find she was the last to finish showering, as usual. Their female handler, Josie, waited for her.

    The woman shook her head when her gaze landed on Amarah. You really need to shorten your time inside the shower. Hurry up. The others have already left for the cafeteria.

    Sorry, Amarah said softly.

    Josie gave her a smile. I know you are. Go on now.

    Amarah walked past Josie without saying anything else. She hurried out of the shower room and headed for the cafeteria, which was the only communal section in the facility. Each pod had its own workout, shower, living, and sleeping areas.

    Once there, she looked around the large, open space. There were rows upon rows of tables. All pods ate together, but were separated into two age groups—newborns to age twelve were kept to one side of the room while thirteen-year-olds to seventeen were on the other.

    She walked to the table her pod occupied. The only available seat was next to Dyer, at the very end on one side. Amarah slipped onto the chair without looking at him. A plate with her meal had already been placed at her spot. A clear dome covered it, keeping the food warm. She touched the top of it, and it opened, sliding down to disappear beneath the surface of the tabletop.

    Amarah picked up the fork beside her plate and speared a piece of grilled fish. All their meals were portion controlled, and the foods chosen were the most nutritious. It didn’t matter if they didn’t like certain things. They were required to eat everything they were given.

    She took a quick look at Dyer to find him staring at her. What? she asked as she focused back on her food.

    Why are you always late from showering?

    I just am.

    Once you’re put into the adult pool, that won’t be tolerated. The rules are stricter.

    I know that. Amarah turned her head to settle her gaze on Dyer. She tightened her grip on her fork as she bit back the nasty remark that sat on her tongue. Why do you care what I do? You haven’t exactly been talking to me lately.

    He jerked his head around until he looked forward, and his lips settled into a thin line. I don’t care, he said gruffly.

    Amarah continued to eat, doing her best to not notice Dyer. She didn’t like being reminded that she’d soon turn eighteen unlike the others in her pod. She did not look forward to playing her part in the Immortal Matrix. If she was honest with herself, some of her shortness with Dyer came from the fact that he had chosen to ignore her. She missed his friendship. She didn’t make friends easily, and now that he’d distanced himself from her, she felt like an outsider.

    She hurried to finish her meal at the same time the others did. As a group, they left the cafeteria. Their destination was the classroom where they would stay until the evening meal.

    Amarah and her pod filed into the room. All took their designated seats at the two-person tables that were set up in rows. She normally was next to Claire, so today Amarah sat by herself.

    The teacher, Ms. Blackhorn, entered the room and went to stand at the front of the class. She waited until she had everyone’s attention before she spoke.

    Before we start our lessons, I’m to discuss the Immortal Matrix with you, Ms. Blackhorn said as she looked at all of them. A new law was passed yesterday that states donors who are soon to enter the pool and adult pods must be better informed of what is expected of them. We have covered the important aspects of it already, but I’ll be going over that again with more details. Once I’m finished, you will be allowed to ask any questions you might have. Something else the new law has put into effect.

    Amarah sat straighter and glanced around the room. The others whispered to each other in excited, hushed tones. The only thing she felt was dread. She’d now have her doomed spelled out for her, giving her more information to picture what the rest of her life would be like.

    Their teacher cleared her throat. Enough. She waited for everyone to quiet down. As you know, donors are chosen from the pool to be matched with recipients, who get the say as to whom they want to be joined in the Immortal Matrix. Gender is linked to gender. Your recipient may be many, many years older than you, though they might not look as if they are. It will be your job to keep them like that. Through your link, you will keep your recipient’s body and mind in perfect health and young. You will do all the work to accomplish that, while they get the benefits as well as you. It’s what they pay for. If a linked female recipient chooses to become pregnant, her donor will be as well to keep her body’s chemistry the same. You have been informed of that before.

    That aspect of the Immortal Matrix Amarah hated the most. Once she was linked to a recipient, and that woman wanted a child, Amarah would be forced to carry a baby. The doctors at their facility would choose who the father of her infant would be from the adult pool by comparing her genes to his, wanting the best outcome. After she gave birth, her newborn would be taken from her and put into a pod to be raised by handlers, just as she’d been. She wouldn’t see the child again, and if she did once he or she grew up and entered the pool, she wouldn’t know him or her. Just as she had no idea who were her parents.

    Ms. Blackhorn continued. The recipient decides how many years they want to be linked to their current donor. Some like to change donors every ten years, while others stay with the same one until they deem the donor is too mature, then will look for a replacement. When a donor is no longer viable for the Immortal Matrix, he or she will be retired. You may now ask questions.

    Amarah looked around the room. None of the others appeared as if they would ask any, so she held up her hand. Ms. Blackhorn nodded in her direction for Amarah to speak.

    What happens when we’re retired? she asked.

    Her teacher smiled. A good question, Amarah. Donors are sent to retirement facilities where they live out the rest of their lives. Ms. Blackhorn glanced at the others. Anyone else have any questions?

    Amarah stuck up her hand again. How exactly are donors and recipients linked in the Immortal Matrix? That was something they’d never been told.

    Ms. Blackhorn gave her a long stare before she answered. I’m not allowed to pass on that information. It is against company policy. You will have to wait to find out until it’s your turn to join the Immortal Matrix. Since no one else besides Amarah has questions, we’ll move on to our lessons for the day.

    That was that. Their teacher hadn’t really given them that much more detail about the Immortal Matrix than what they’d already been taught. The only thing

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