Echo: A Dystopian Science Fiction Novel

“This is for your own good, Kent.”

Batman turns a key above my crotch, locking down my chastity belt.  A morose CLICK echoes through the Batcave.  It sounds deafening within the dank, voluminous walls.

I look down at my crotch, unable to conceal the dismay on my face.  A sleek, futuristic-looking set of adamantium briefs is now snugged firmly against my junk.  Glimmering lights dance across its front, right under my belly button.

Batman leans back, satisfaction clearly evident in the set of his posture.  He places both hands on his waist.  I’m anything BUT satisfied.  I knock twice on the chastity belt, then give Batman a pleading look.

“Why do I have to wear this again?”

He sighs.  “Kent, if you’re going to be my sidekick, then you have to put in some training time.  You can’t be masturbating 24/7, or sneaking off with whatever random soccer mom that catches your eye.  Look at Tim and Damian—they spend hours in the gym every day.  All you do is watch Voltron and play with your terrier.”

Bitefighter, my 10 lb. buddy and Terrier Extraordinaire, glowers at Batman and voices his displeasure with an angry bark.

I slump and sigh.  “Okay—if you say so.”

Batman turns away to the 20-foot tall computer bank that serves as the Batcave’s central processing hub.  “Good—now go join Grayson for some movement drills.  Later tonight we’ll—”

But as soon as he turns his back I scramble to the other side of the cave, making a beeline for the evidence storage locker.  When I yank the door open, I’m greeted by a giant sheet of weed brownies.  Score!  I start stuffing them into my face.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see week old pizza that Killer Croc was eating—it still bears his bite marks.  Not sure what Batman was saving it for (bet it was something like tracking Croc’s probable location by analyzing the composition of water found in the pizza dough and tracing it to a specific geography through its alkaline profile) but beggars can’t be choosers.  I jam a slice of stale pie into my mouth and throw one to Bitefighter.

“Quick!” I manage around a mouthful of pizza and brownie.  “Eat this before he bans junk food too!”

Bitefighter shakes the slice back and forth, growling his adorable little-dog growl before maowing down on it as fast as he can.

Batman sees what we’re doing and leaps out of his chair.  “HEY!” he yells.  “That’s EVIDENCE!  WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE—”

Apparently, Bitefighter wants something a little stronger than the weed brownies because he jumps into the locker and emerges with a hundred-gram bag of dried psilocybin mushrooms.  He tears the bag open and starts devouring fungus.  Holy shit—he’s eaten enough ‘shrooms to traverse the depths of hyperspace and commune with the Astral Sorcerers of Elothia!  Batman screams in inarticulate rage and rushes toward us.

Me and Bitefighter start running away, stuffing ourselves with pizza, brownies, mushrooms, and weed.  Hey we’ve been sidekicks for three whole hours—we deserve a break, goddammit!

“Kent!  This isn’t how a crimefighter conducts himself!  YOU CAN’T JUST—”

And then Alfred comes tumbling down the stairwell, beaten and bloody.  He’s followed by a legion of soccer moms that crowd in behind him, all dosed with high levels of joker venom.  Atop their finely honed Crossfit bodies and drool-worthy artificial boobs, their cherry-red lips stretch apart in unnaturally wide grins, marring their bleach-white cheeks with stark smile-lines.

I see Batman’s eyes widen in panic.  He turns toward me and screams, “GET OUT OF HERE KENT!  YOU’RE NOT READY FOR THIS!”  He turns back to the joker-moms and assumes a hybrid fighting stance that allows him easy access to high-level Silat nerve-strikes, as well as a strong base of grappling escapes.

I take a deep breath.  My eyes close…then open.  And then they steel over.

This is what I was born for.

This is what I was MADE for.

I run towards my duffel bag, packed with the few personal items Batman has allowed me to keep during my training.  Three soccer moms come at me with katanas and electro-prods, but I raise both arms overhead and flex a specially keyed sequence of muscles in my core, activating a somatic trigger that releases an avalanche of stank which floods out from my armpits.  The soccer moms fall to their knees, coughing and gagging.  I reach into my duffel bag, yank out my eReader, and open it to Echo.

Magic flash.

Suddenly my piece blazes with the power of a thousand suns.  My chastity belt glows blindingly bright, then the head of my star-powered cock begins carving a glowing line in the adamantium restraint and leaving a trail of molten metal, just like when Obi Wan used his lightsaber to carve through that blast door in the Prequel That Shall Not Be Named.  My resplendent genitals burst from their prison, emitting gorgeous spears of multicolored luminescence; they look similar to shafts of clear morning sunlight as they pierce through a sylvan canopy.

The soccer moms scream in pain.  Bleach-white color melts off their face as the joker-venom is purged from bodies.  In a matter of seconds, my would-be assassins have transformed into a bevy of gasping women.

One of them turns her ice-queen face towards me, tears welling in her eyes.  “Thank you, Kent—thank you for stopping us before we killed anyone.”

I smile and wink.  “No problem, miss.  How about a date?  There’s enough Kent Wayne to go around for ALL of you.”

The soccer moms burst into giggles and smiles.  A few seconds later, I’m surrounded by beautiful women playing with my hair and pawing at my body.

Batman’s unmistakably growly voice cuts through the air:  “Ahem!  Eh-eh-eh-HEM!!!”

We look toward him.  In a tentative voice, he asks, “There’s enough BRUCE Wayne for some of you, if any of you would like to—”

I cut him off with a raised hand.  “I’m sorry Bruce, but not just yet.  These are soccer moms—you’d need to train YEARS before standing a chance of properly satisfy them.  This is a job for their favorite author and Man Whore Kent Wayne.”  I give him a smile and a wink.

“You’re not ready for this.”


Has your favorite romantic demographic been contaminated with joker venom?  Is it now up to you to cure them with love before they wreck all of Gotham?  Never fear!  Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here:  Vol. 1 on Kindle.  Vol. 2 on Kindle here:  Vol.2 on Kindle  Vol. 3 on Kindle here:  Vol. 3 on Kindle  #kindle #kindleunlimited #sciencefiction #scifi #books #novel #book


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