Chapter Two: Secret Research
"How about dinner tonight, Charity?" Just as he was putting his magnetic discs back in place, Harry Voltaire managed to brush the back of his hand across his secretary's backside.
"Oh!" Charity wanted to surrender to her Alpha-plus boss. She'd been dying to have him again for weeks on end. Even his most casual touch made her knees turn to jelly. But just as her well-programmed mind was prompting her to give the acceptable sleep-conditioned response ("of course, Harry. Hug me till you drug me, honey!") Charity's subconscious flashed a vivid image of disapproval and scorn on the intelligent but rather chilly features of Dr. Edith Beddington.
"Sorry, Harry, but I can't," chirped the little Beta Minus, her freckled cheeks burning hot. "I've been requested by Dr. Beddington for the Darwin Laboratory. It's secret research."
"Secret research?" Harry was surprised and a little resentful. "Why wasn't I asked to sign a release? What does a high-ranking member of the World Scientific Board like Dr. Edith Beddington want with my pretty little Beta secretary?"
"Well, if I told you it wouldn't be a secret, would it?" Charity couldn't prevent a squeal as Harry playfully fondled her left breast, but she immediately slapped his hand away. "Stop that, Harry! You've no right to interfere with my sexual life. Everyone belongs to everyone else, remember?"
"When the individual feels, the community reels." Harry was an Alpha male, but his mind had still been subjected to hundreds of hours of sleep conditioning. He let Charity slip from his grasp and watched her rush off with a blank look on his handsome face. Then he sat down at his massive desk and immediately invited three other buxom Betas to dinner.
"It worked just like you said!" Charity jumped into Dr. Beddington's helicopter with a triumphant smile on her face. "The moment Harry found out I wasn't available for dinner, he got all possessive and old-fashioned. 'What do they want with my pretty little secretary?'" The little redhead boomed, deliberately mimicking Harry's deep-voiced male outrage. "'My secretary!'"
"Splendid, my dear. You've taken your first step towards making Harry sit up and take notice of your individuality." The tall, distinguished, golden-haired female scientist quickly got her helicopter up into the clouds and set a course towards the wilderness belt outside of London.
"Aren't we going to the Pre-Ford Historical Archives?" Charity peered down at the blur of greenery and forest, wishing for a moment that she had accepted Harry's invitation to dinner. It was one thing helping Batty Beddington research the ancient rituals of male-female courtship, but flying off the beaten path like this on a Friday night was not her sleep-conditioned idea of a good time!
"How can you make Harry chase you if you're always within reach?" Dr. Beddington laughed at the look of dismay on the younger woman's freckled face. But her expression softened as she offered Charity a double gram of soma from her neon-green plastic purse. "Here, dearest. Try these. A little something to calm your nerves. Remember, a gram is . . ."
"Better than a damn." Charity gulped the pills at once, and washed them down with a tiny bottle of electrolyte-rich hormone-enhanced water. Batty Beddington was always talking about the benefits of enhanced water. The slender, long-limbed blonde scientist said it was the key to maintaining her youthful vigor and her high-energy lifestyle.
"Are we going to another Research Center?" Charity asked, leaning back in her seat and resting her head against the pneumatic headrest. She didn't feel much of an invigorating effect from the energy-producing enhanced water. But the extra-strength soma from Batty Beddington's pretty little purse was already taking effect. Charity yawned, wondering if she could sneak in a little soma holiday before they landed. And if she did, would Harry turn up in her dreams?
"Tonight we're going to a very ancient archaeological site known as the Black Crags." Dr. Beddington was saying. The lady scientist knowingly nudged a button with her toe, automatically dimming the lights in the helicopter cabin. Then she reached over and flicked another button with her finger, and this one made Charity's cushioned seat sink down lower and lower, until it was almost like a bed. "However, we won't reach the Crags for another hour or two at least, so you may as well rest and take a holiday till then. The ritual won't begin till midnight."
"The ritual?" Charity didn't like the sound of that word. She tried to murmur a complaint, but her eyes slid shut and she sank into a very vivid series of lust-enhancing soma dreams, all of them as real as Feelies and all starring Harry Voltaire.