The Genius Read online

  Books in this series

  CHAPTER 1

  Testing Sex-bots

  CHAPTER 2

  A Fucking Favor

  CHAPTER 3

  Awkward

  CHAPTER 4

  Virgin Sex-Bot

  CHAPTER 5

  Dumb Genius

  CHAPTER 6

  Sex-Bot on a Field Trip

  CHAPTER 7

  Answers

  CHAPTER 8

  Reaction

  CHAPTER 9

  Tristan’s Headache

  CHAPTER 10

  Mutual Arrangement

  CHAPTER 11

  Research

  CHAPTER 12

  Reunion Plans

  CHAPTER 13

  Pragmatist

  CHAPTER 14

  Checking Off the List

  CHAPTER 15

  Alcohol and Weed

  CHAPTER 16

  The List

  CHAPTER 17

  The Tournament

  CHAPTER 18

  Proof

  CHAPTER 19

  Taking the Test

  CHAPTER 20

  Alternative Ways

  CHAPTER 21

  Promises

  CHAPTER 22

  Welcome

  CHAPTER 23

  Reunion

  CHAPTER 24

  The Fight

  CHAPTER 25

  The Law of the Nmen

  CHAPTER 26

  Drunken Memories

  CHAPTER 27

  Illusions

  CHAPTER 28

  Body Language

  CHAPTER 29

  Party Games

  CHAPTER 30

  No and Yes

  CHAPTER 31

  Sex at the Gym

  CHAPTER 32

  Solo

  CHAPTER 33

  Love Declarations

  CHAPTER 34

  Four Months Later

  Copyright © 2018

  By Elin Peer

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author, excepting brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

  ASIN: B07C91RKB9

  The Genius – Men of the North #6

  First Edition

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons or organizations is coincidental and not intended by the author. Recommended for mature readers due to adult content.

  Cover Art by Kellie Dennis: bookcoverbydesign.co.uk

  Editing: www.martinohearn.com

  Books in this series

  The Men of the North series can be read as stand alone books – but for the best reading experience and to avoid spoilers this is the recommended order to read them in.

  The Protector – Men of the North #1

  The Ruler – Men of the North #2

  The Mentor – Men of the North #3

  The Seducer – Men of the North #4

  The Warrior – Men of the North #5

  The Genius – Men of the North #6

  The Dancer – Men of the North #7

  The Athlete – Men of the North # 8

  The Fighter – Men of the North # 9

  The Pacifist – Men of the North #10

  To be alerted for new book releases sign up to my list at www.elinpeer.com and receive a free e-book as a welcome gift.

  PLEASE NOTE

  This book is intended for mature readers only, as it contains a few graphic scenes and some inappropriate language.

  All characters are fictional and any likeness to a living person or organization is coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  I dedicate this book to the quirky ones.

  You’re my tribe of people.

  Elin

  CHAPTER 1

  Testing Sex-bots

  Shelly

  It was fascinating to watch Nmen have sex.

  Even after two weeks of being at the research and development facility in the Northlands, I was still intrigued by how many different ways the men could have sex with the robots.

  Sometimes I found myself looking at the replay of the test session with my head angled and brows furrowed. It blew my mind how creative some of the men were in finding new positions and how different sex was from one test person to the other.

  Some of the men were in the room for less than five minutes, others played with the robots for close to an hour.

  My job was to analyze the data we received from the sex-bots to help us perfect our product line. With sensors installed in the test robots some of the many things we could measure was which area of the robot was touched the most, how much pressure was applied, depth and speed of penetration, and of course how long each hole on the robot was in use.

  Sitting in my office I was going over the reports from yesterday’s five sessions. There was neither need nor time for me to watch all the sexual encounters, so I had preprogrammed the system to look for anything related to fetishes and a long list of keywords. In general, I relied on the statistics from the robots, as well as the men’s commentary, which was recorded while they used the robot. The system was pretty good at ignoring grunting sounds that came out non-verbal, but today the report was full of incoherent nonsense that made it harder to read.

  The system alerted me that a session had involved a fetish and I had just opened up to see for myself when a call came from Charlie, the man I worked for at Advanced Technologies. His hologram popped up in front of the video that was playing of test subject 44 and the sex-bot.

  “May peace surround you,” Charlie said and smiled at me. I almost laughed at his reaction when he turned his head and saw the video playing. It all happened so fast that most people would have missed it, but my eyes were trained to look for body language and I saw the micro-expression of contempt when Charlie lifted the corner of his mouth.

  “May peace surround you too,” I replied in a calm voice.

  “What in the world is he doing?” Charlie nodded toward the Nman in the video. By now his expression had settled into wrinkling his nose up. “Is he smelling her feet?”

  “He’s a podophile.”

  “A what?”

  “A foot fetishist.”

  The older man shook his head, and mumbled, “I don’t know how you do it, Shelly, or why you chose this project.”

  “I’m a biologist; procreation is interesting to me.”

  “Yes, well, in this case it’s more like an imitation of procreation, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t answer the question since it was rhetorical. We both knew that these robots didn’t collect semen like others of our models did.

  “If all men were like that guy,” I pointed with my chin to test subject number 44, who was currently licking the sex-bot’s toes, “we would all be extinct. He prefers to use her feet to jerk off and so far, he hasn’t shown much interest in her reproductive parts.”

  Charlie stared at the sexual encounter without responding.

  “How are things in the Motherlands?” I asked.

  “Good.” He cleared his throat. “Very good. But we miss you of course.” Shaking his head as to clear his thoughts, he turned from the video to me. “Would you mind turning it off while we speak? I’m finding it rather distracting, not to mention disturbing.”

  Mindy, our newest sex-bot model, not yet released to market, was smiling and encouraging the Nman with a velvety-soft voice, whispering, “Don’t stop, your tongue feels amazing.” He complied just as I paused the video, leaving the naked Nman in a rather unflattering position with his eyes closed and his tongue far out of his mouth.

  “Mindy looks beautiful. How are the men liking her?” Charlie asked.

  I shrugged. “Number 44 looks like he’s en
joying himself, don’t you think?”

  “You don’t sound too excited.”

  “I just believe we could do better if we developed a new generation of models. Mindy is nice, but no real women look like her in real life. Her dimensions are obscure. Her eyes and lips are too big, breasts the size of hers would be too heavy to stand out as perkily as that in real life, and no woman has skin that flawless, legs that long, or a waistline that small.”

  “Shelly, Shelly, Shelly…” Charlie said in a sing-song voice. “We discussed this already. Sex-bots aren’t supposed to look like real women. They are sexual fantasies of the perfect woman.”

  I gave him a pointed stare. “Nature has already perfected women over thousands of years. There’s no need to make an artificial-looking sex-bot when Nmen are longing for the real thing. We should always design with biomimicry in mind. And besides, male sex-bots in the Motherlands look like real men, so why can’t the female versions be the same?”

  A line formed between Charlie’s brows. “I agree that innovation should be inspired by nature, but in this case our previous research has shown that Nmen prefer the enhanced version of women. That’s a fact.”

  “Hmm.” I fiddled with my sleeve. “I would still like to put that to the test.”

  “Yes, you said that the last time we spoke. Did you interview some of the testers like you said you would?”

  “Uh-huh. Seven so far.”

  “And did you follow my safety instructions?”

  “Yes, the test subjects never saw me. I used the hostess-bot to ask the questions I wanted answers to.”

  “Good. I don’t like the idea of you being alone up there in the Northlands. You could have done the same work from here with a remote connection.”

  “I told you it makes it easier for me to be on-site.”

  Charlie sighed. “Maybe, but if you saw the cost for your bodyguard you’d agree with me that it’s excessive.”

  “You think any expense is excessive, but I hardly ever go anywhere, so it can’t be that bad. Feel free to deduct from my personal points; I have plenty.”

  “Look, I don’t want you to stay in the office because you’re afraid of the expense for the bodyguard. We hired him to keep you safe when you go out and it’s important to have balance in your life. So, go out, Shelly, I mean it.”

  “Women can go out without an escort now.”

  “It’s too risky, Shelly, and my sources tell me that it’s rare to see a woman by herself.”

  “As long as I use common sense and don’t go down a dark alley or stay out after dark, it’s fine.”

  “Shelly, you won’t leave your office without security. It was part of the deal we made when you insisted on going to the Northlands and I expect you to honor it.”

  I gave a small sigh. “Of course.”

  “Good. Now tell me how your interview subjects responded to your idea.”

  “They were all positive about the idea of a natural version, but the problem is that when they were shown pictures of potential models for the robot, each chose a different woman.”

  “Well, that just goes to show that tastes differ, and what’s ideal for one man isn’t ideal for another.”

  “Which is why we should find a way to develop affordable robots for each person according to their preferences, tastes, and fetishes.”

  Charlie jerked his head back. “I can’t believe you just said that. What an enormous waste of resources that would be. A personalized sex-bot for each man…” He shook his head. “That’s not the Motlander way.”

  I sighed. “I know, but Nmen aren’t like us. They don’t like to share and since most of the men will never be with a real woman, a robot might be a good alternative to a life companion.”

  Charlie was dressed in a blue sweater with a large pink butterfly printed on the front. It looked soft and comfortable, which were the two main objectives for Motlander fashion. That, and the fabric’s being produced without harming the environment in any way. With a thoughtful expression he pointed out, “You speak as if it’s a must for a man to be paired with a woman to live a fulfilled life. Look around the Motherlands and tell me: how many men do you see that have that desire?”

  “You can’t compare Nmen and Motlander men,” I pointed out. “You Motlander men are surrounded by women and grow up with mothers. Most Nmen never speak to a woman in their lifetime. To them the embrace of a woman is something they can only dream of.”

  Charlie shifted his balance. “That might have been true ten years ago, but today many are in a relationship.”

  I was so tired of hearing that myth. Crossing my arms, I drummed my fingers on my arms. “Five hundred thousand men in relationships might sound like many, but with a population of ten million, that’s only five percent. The Northlands still have nine-and-a-half million single men and that, Charles, makes for a huge market. If we could find a way to produce the robots at an affordable price, it would improve the men’s life quality. I know it would.”

  “Is that the psychologist in you speaking?” Charlie asked, referring to the fact that I had three different degrees. With the highest measured IQ in the Motherlands, learning had always been easy for me. I’d finished my psychology degree at the age of seventeen, my engineering degree at twenty, and my biology degree at twenty-two. After that I’d worked three years for Advanced Technologies, where I was now Charlie’s head of design and engineering.

  “Maybe it’s not the psychologist in me, but the fact that I’m a caring person,” I said in a flat tone.

  Charlie looked at me like he didn’t know if I was being serious.

  “Of course you are,” he said, a bit too slow, and underlined the lack of conviction by looking away. It hurt a little because all my years growing up in the Motherlands, I’d been told I was lacking empathy and social filters. Some joked that it came with being a genius, and there were days when it suited me fine. People mostly left me alone. Or at least they didn’t come to me for advice on personal matters. It was for the best, since I tended to be logical about things and unwillingly upset people with my direct answers.

  Still, there were days when I felt alone and wished I could swap my brain for a better social awareness that would make people like me. Maybe it would help if I learned how to stop myself from breaking into random lectures about things no one but me found interesting. Or if I stopped pointing out the inconvenient truths that normal people in the Motherlands would know not to say out loud. But why wouldn’t people like to know that they had something stuck in their teeth, dandruff on their shoulders, or that they were bad cooks? And why should it be socially acceptable for people to fart and the rest of us to pretend we’d lost our sense of smell and not call them out on it?

  “By the way,” Charlie continued. “Congratulations on the design award for the CBC. Not that it wasn’t expected, but still.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It seems prestigious design awards are raining down on us ever since we got you aboard the team.” Charlie smiled and softened his voice. “I know you don’t like it when I praise you too much, Shelly, but I’m proud of you. You should be proud too.”

  He was right. I didn’t like attention or praise for my inventions and designs. Maybe because everyone, not least my mom, the famous and beloved councilwoman, Sheana Rene, had always expected me to grow up and do something remarkable with my genius – like find a cure for all disease or add an extra hundred years to the lifespan of humans. The pressure in my chest just from thinking about it made me close my eyes.

  “You deserved that award,” Charlie said with a nod.

  “Not sure about that.” I breathed and opened my eyes again. “It feels like I was cheating a little.”

  “Because you’re a genius?”

  “I don’t like that word.”

  “It’s not your fault the other nominees didn’t have the luck of being born with a brain as brilliant as yours.”

  His words made me feel uncomfortable. It wasn’t like I’d d
one anything to be this smart. Other nominees had worked for years on their products while I’d spent less than three months developing my ideas for the CBC product line before I began testing it on myself and others. CBC was short for Convenient Beauty Care and was developed for busy women like me who didn’t prioritize going to a beauty salon. With my product, much of the work on my skin and nails was done while I slept. In the beginning it had taken some getting used to, but now it had become relaxing to fall asleep while my CBC device massaged my scalp and face. Often, I was fast asleep while my skin was being cleaned and treated.

  I hadn’t invented the device because I was a vain person. The truth was that as a teenager, I’d had terrible acne, not to mention a bushy unibrow. Plenty of well-meaning people had given me uninvited tips on fashion and beauty care for as long as I could remember. I’d never paid much attention since there were about a million other things more important to me. The idea for the CBC device had come to me when my sister, Rochelle, made a comment about a year ago. We had been at our mother’s place when Rochelle pointed out that I was once again wearing a mismatched outfit, and that my nails were cracked and unmanicured.

  “When are you going to take some pride in how you look? A weekly visit to the beauty parlor shouldn’t be too hard,” she complained.

  “Don’t have time,” I responded.

  “It’s a priority, Shelly.”

  “Not to me.”

  That day Rochelle had turned to my mother with exasperation, “I swear, someday I’m going to sneak in and do Shelly’s nails while she sleeps.”

  Those words had stayed with me for days and become my inspiration to design what had become the biggest must-have item this summer. Beauty had always been for other people, but waking up to see my skin glowing with health, and my nails shining with a new fun color, had become a highlight of my day, and I was amused when people from my past didn’t recognize me with my new fancy haircut and new looks.

  “Rumor has it you’re up for the 2448 Designer of the Year Award,” Charlie teased.

  I shook my head. “You don’t know that. They won’t give nominations until December.”