“If Wulf has so much money, why did you steal the transmitter?”
“It was going to take too long to order one. We have a generator that we’re using now, but it doesn’t give enough power. The radio station had a monster.”
“Where’s Gail Scanlon?”
“She’s at the main facility. She’s part of a side experiment I started. Turns out the human brain operates on low frequencies of electromagnetic energy. When you’re in active thought, it’s maybe at like fourteen cycles per second. When you’re sleeping, it’s more like four cycles. I can alter that with my machine. Only problem is, I needed to put the helmet on my test subjects so their brain waves would match the resonant frequencies I chose to generate. I can’t really control thoughts yet, but I can make monkeys fall asleep or get depressed or enraged. Human trials are my next phase.”
Seemed to me that monkeys spent a lot of time sleeping anyway. And as for depressed and enraged, I’d feel that way, too, if I was forced to wear a helmet while Munch conducted experiments on me.
Stephanie Plum 14.5 - Plum Spooky
TWENTY-TWO
MUNCH PICKED THE scissors up from the table. “I should start working on your clothes before my time is up.”
“These are the only clothes I have with me,” I said. “If you cut them up, I won’t have anything.”
“Yeah, but you won’t need anything. I figure you’ll just go naked all the time.”
“That feels sort of icky.”
“You’ll get used to it. You’ll be like my sex slave. Besides, once I perfect my mind-?control device, I’ll be able to control your mood, if you know what I mean.”
“Wouldn’t you rather have a girlfriend?”
“Are you kidding?” Munch said, looking for a place to start with the scissors. “What man wouldn’t rather have a sex slave?”
“Lots of men.”
“They’re lying. Sex slave is the way to go. You could do
anything you want to a sex slave.”
I was wearing jeans and Diesel’s sweatshirt. The sweatshirt was thick and didn’t have a front zipper. Munch started cutting at the bottom of the sweatshirt.
“Ow!” I said.
“What?”
“You stuck me.”
“I did not. Stop squirming.”
“What do you mean, you can do anything you want to a sex slave? You aren’t weird, are you?”
“I don’t know. I want to try stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
I really didn’t want to hear any of this, but he only had twenty minutes left. If I kept him talking, I could considerably delay the whole naked thing.
“Everything.”
“I don’t do everything,” I said.
“A sex slave does everything.”
“Not this one.”