EIGHT
Davy woke up—and was not in a good mood. Not again. That was the third time. Hadn't they ever heard of just asking him to come? He probably wouldn't, but still—it was polite. Same white room. Same white walls. No visible door; but he knew now that one sort of slid open in the room, when Benjamin commanded it. Until then, he was a prisoner, again.
Suddenly, the door did slide open; and in stepped a scantily clad woman, her lips pulled into a pucker, her stance one of complete confidence. Davy frowned, not really liking the look of her.
"What?" He asked, rudely.
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Odd-looking. Odd-looking?! If this was odd-looking, then she hated to think what someone Adele thought was really strange would look like. She swallowed it though; and after all, she had had to service a lot of disgusting men in her time. Fat, swarthy, sweaty businessmen; ugly, lanky, spotty teens with something to prove. The thing is, this man didn't seem to want her presence.
Now, Pia prided herself on her ability to catch herself a paying customer almost every night—it wasn't much to be proud of, but on the ground floor, you took what you could. She needed something to be proud of. She was very professional and didn't let any expression cross her face.
The thing was, she was—after living a life on the ground floor slums, with no need for anything such as love—not very clued up about 'love' and suchlike. In fact, when told she had to make him fall in love with her, she just assumed it meant, well, her body. She was a prostitute, after all; that was what she did. It hadn't been at all part of the plan to simply release her into Davy's room, but she was eager to get her services over with, so she decided to simply pop in, do what she had to do, grab the money and rent herself a nice flat above the smog, where she could lead a real life.
She thought it was just another quick job, just further up the chain. Easy peasy.
"Hey there," She said with a small pout. Davy glared at her.
"Who are you?" He demanded.
"My name's Pia," She said in her sultry work-voice; though she was becoming rather disconcerted by the coldness in his voice. Tough crowd.
"Did Buck send you?" He asked with a frown.
"No-one sent me," She said, with a small smile, taking a step forwards. Davy shot her a withering look, which seemed to say, drop dead! It was slightly off-putting. The hostility was coming off of him in waves. He didn't seem at all intrigued, or even interested in her appearance.
"Then why did you come?" He asked, impatiently.
"I came for you," Pia said, walking up to him and leaning forwards so that her breath tickled his face, standing unbearably close, her tackily-done makeup not disguising the flaws on her face from this close up... and then, suddenly, all she could see was stars, as Davy grabbed her shoulder with his crab claw and threw her across the room. She bounced off of the wall with a loud thump, and a short squeal.
"What is wrong with you?!" Davy exclaimed, his hand flying to where his cutlass used to be, and finding nothing but air. He looked down to where his cutlass should have been, and then up again, scowling. For about the millionth time. He advanced on her, a snarl on his face.
"B-b-but..." Pia shivered and looked away from him, the towering man-beast that was striding towards her with a deadly look in his eye.
The door burst open.
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Benjamin had just gone down to check on Jones, and as he arrived in the room adjacent—so that he could see in via the wall-length double-sided mirror—he noticed a girl in there. He raised an eyebrow.
"Who is that, Adele?" He asked her, patience forced into his voice.
"That's Pia, the prostitute," Adele said, sounding bewildered, "But she's not meant to be in there. I told her to-,"
"Well you told her wrong," Benjamin said sharply, "We'd better get in there before..." He trailed off as Pia was sent flying across the room. "Too late. Come on, Adele," he said briskly, and walked quickly towards the door, throwing it open. "Jones," He said sharply, "What are you doing?"
"What're you doing?" Davy demanded, "Sending some whore in here!" The girl on the floor looked downwards, biting a lip, looking outraged and slightly embarrassed.
"I didn't send her in here," Benjamin snapped, looking down at Pia. His eyes slid to Adele, whose face revealed no emotion. After a moment more of silence, he said to Adele, "Shoot her." Before Pia could even speak, Adele raised laser and let the red dot play on Pia's chest—the laser was soundless, and left no mark; simply stopped her heart. In most science-fiction, I suppose it could be called a death ray.
The body of Pia fell to the ground soundlessly, her eyes open, her body lifeless. Adele slipped the laser back into her pocket, and turned towards Davy, folding her arms. Benjamin seemed to think for a moment.
"Let's go, Miss Merritt," He said, before turning and striding out of the room. Adele took the time to frown at Davy, before following him to his office.
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"I suppose that using some silly slag from ground floor was a bad idea," Benjamin said, walking up to the wall-length window behind his desk and gazing out across the metropolis of skyscrapers, and a blue sky above them—with a dark, greyish green smog only just visible, miles and miles below him. He had no need for the information, but he had come to know that dark green caused rashes.
"Yes... life on the ground floor was dismal, as usual. No intelligent life to speak of." Adele said, with a small, superior frown.
"Hmm—I guess I had come to overestimate them. Never mind," He spun around, and there was a grim determination in his eyes, "I did not steal those blueprints and go to all of the trouble of time-travel for nothing! There must be some way to control Jones. This Beckett guy seemed to manage it... And the honey trap still seems to be the best idea..."
"Yes, sir," Adele said absently, not really listening to his mutterings. Suddenly, she felt his eyes on her. She looked up as he stared at her. "What?"
"He'll get suspicious if we send in another whore, a smarter one," Benjamin said, slowly, "I think we'd have to use someone... that he's already met." He grinned widely, as Adele looked blank for a moment, and then her mouth dropped open; hmm, actual emotion!
"What?" She asked him again.
"Well, Adele, looks like you've got yourself a mission of the unconventional sort," Benjamin said. Adele looked like she truly wanted to protest—but she didn't, just looked at him, her expression vaguely pleading. Benjamin was beginning to realize that the honey trap idea may not work so well; but the lengths Adele would go to to please him never ceased to amaze and amuse him. This should be fun.
"...Jones?" Was all she managed to say.
"You'll find a way," Benjamin smirked, and Adele could only stare at him, before there was a knock on the door. "Come in," He said smoothly, as Adele covered up her devastated expression and looked down at the floor.
"Sir," A man walked in, "We've dug up sufficient information on our subject—we know where he lives. Should we ready the machine?"
"Yes," Benjamin said, a wolfish grin spreading over his face, "Do."
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Adele wasn't incredibly sure what Benjamin was asking of her.
Well, she was.
A mission of the more unconventional sort. Funny. She had already made it pretty clear to Jones that she hated his guts. Love-hate? Hah, who fell for that garbage? Love-hate, in Adele's opinion, didn't exist—but she was the sort of person who liked everything straightforward. If you act like you hate someone, then hate them. Feeling one way and acting another was like cheating.
Obviously, Adele was a person who was unfamiliar with irony.
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"Are you sure this is a good idea, sir?" Adele asked him, sounding a touch wary. She wasn't just talking about the kidnapping of Cutler Beckett either.
"Ah, dear Adele, I know you have doubts about my plans," Benjamin said, patting her on the cheek—something which she hated, by the way, "But just leave the thinking to me. If I didn't think it was a good idea, I wouldn't do it." He turned towards the team, now reassembled again near the pod room, seeming weary.
"We're ready to go, sir," Knighton said, as scientists rushed around, making sure everything to do with the machine was in working order. "We had a couple of injuries last trip, but they've been seen to,"
"Excellent," Benjamin said with a smile, "Now, with this Beckett fellow, please be... civil. There is no need to knock him out and drag him here like with Jones. We will be working together, so remain polite... well, as polite as you can," He said with a small smile. Knighton knew what that smile meant... if he refuses, knock him out anyway. "And be careful. Apparently, he was quite a tricky chap—though, of course, nobody can outsmart me," He grinned and spun around as a scientist tapped him on the shoulder.
"This one will arrive outside of his manor in a place called Port Royale—the fashionable Gilt District, if I am not mistaken," the scientist said, "At the same time as the other three excursions."
"Do we have to keep returning to the same time?" Knighton asked irritably, "That means that at some point in time, there will be four different sets of us running about! It can only mean trouble..." He narrowed his eyes.
"It's easier that way," The scientist assured him. Knighton simply grunted.
"Toodles, then," Benjamin leaned back against a wall, and waved jauntily at Knighton and his team. Knighton stepped into the capsule room, along with the rest of the squad, running a hand through his brown-blonde hair. Benjamin watched him go with that mint fresh, bright white, and ever-so-slightly fake smile of his.
The team walked into the capsule, as they had already done three times before. The scientists checked the pod all over; making sure everything was sealed shut, before leaving the room—making sure it was airtight and that the doors were sealed. Benjamin watched with bright eyes as the scientists began busily moving about—and Adele with a slight disinterest.
In the room, the pod suddenly flickered once—and then, it was gone.
NB: Will a new character be joining the cast? Hmm! This is turning into a bit of a villain-fest, isn't it? Thanks for the reviews, and to those who favourited and alerted too; I guess there just aren't words to say, eh:P Next chapter--the thoughts of Davy's not-incredibly-bright first mate, and the future and past end up sort of... screwing up a tad. Don't know what I mean?
You'll know soon...
