Bane's Desire
Through the Vortex
Chapter 9 - The Correction Center

Mueller woke me later that night and I muzzily realized I'd fallen asleep on the divan. Through bleary eyes I noticed the viewing screen Hildah and I had watched the odd movie on had been retracted and she was nowhere in sight. Still half asleep, I followed as he led me back to my room and undressed me completely before slipping a silky-soft nightshirt over my head. I was then guided to my bed and tucked under the thick, luxurious blankets. The man who was my caretaker stood over me for a moment, gazing down at me with a fond, soft smile. Mueller reached out and gave several affectionate and gentle pats to my head and told me I did very well at dinner. Too sleepy to complain about being treated like a child, I yawned and burrowed deeper into the blankets. Without another word Mueller left the room and the lights dimmed as the doors slid shut behind him.

I fell quickly into an easy slumber only to have my sleep disturbed sometime later by haunting dreams. I was back on earth and elated to see everything looking normal. The sun was shining high in the blue sky, the trees were green, people were walking around dressed in many different colors of clothing and the buildings all looked familiar. Taking in my surroundings, I was surprised to see my friends exiting a black limo, dressed in their Preventer dress uniforms. My heart raced with excitement at the sight of them and I couldn't wait to tell them I was back. I joined a group of people standing outside the church and watched the four moved together to enter the church. A large group of familiar-looking people gathered inside the chapel and, as I drew near, I could see that Heero and my friends were very upset. Heero's head was bent, his face obscured from my view. Trowa's arm was around my lover's shoulders as he spoke softly to him, and a wave of jealousy shot through me for reasons I couldn't remember. I was distracted by Quatre, who was brushing tears away from his red-rimmed eyes and pale face as he walked on Heero's other side. Wufei preceded them by a few steps, his back rigidly straight and his face devoid of expression, a sign that he was equally upset. It was only after they sat down on the front pew of the chapel and the organ music began that I realized that they were grieving and attending a casket-less funeral... held in my honor. My world crumbled and fell apart in that moment, and I felt overwhelmingly lost and oddly betrayed. Those who were the closest to me were grieving my loss and in the process of letting me go... and I wasn't even dead. I was suddenly next to my former comrades and I tried to talk to each of them, to comfort and then to scold. My frustration mounted when I realized that they couldn't see or hear me nor feel my touch. At the top of my lungs I screamed at them, hoping to somehow get the message across that I was alive and for them to not give up on me... but they ignored me, unaware of my presence.

The scene abruptly changed and the four of them were standing closely together in the familiar front foyer of the Preventer building, with Quatre and Trowa once again positioned on either side of Heero, as if lending him support. Wufei stood just behind my lover, guarding their backs. The small group stood still, silently gazing at something embedded into the wall. I peered over their shoulders for a closer look and saw a bronze plaque with my official Preventer picture on the left corner. The remainder of the space was imprinted with information stating my name, age and the date in which I'd been killed while in the line of duty. It was still dark when I woke up with a gasp of denial on my lips and the pillow under my head damp from my tears. I wet it a bit more before I finally managed to go back to sleep.

Despite the nightmare, I felt rested the next morning if not a bit depressed as a result of the dream. I figured it was probably a good thing that my mind had been preoccupied with my new environment. With all the differences Erith presented and the urgent need to learn Duwan's role as a Purple and a Chosen, I didn't have a lot of time to think about the guys back home, if they were missing me or, if my dream had any meaning, they believed I was dead.

Despite feeling down, I did feel a bit more accepting of my change in circumstance, especially in light of my successful encounter with Duwan's Chooser the night before. I was beginning to understand a bit more about this society but realized there was still a lot more I had learn if I was going to successfully pass myself off as Duwan. Thank the stars that Hildah believed my experience in the vortex had caused my confusion and the changes to my body, in comparison to Duwan's. Without that excuse I'd be hard put to explain my lack of understanding and scars. I was beginning to feel that, with Mueller's help, I just might be able to pull this off.

The now familiar blond man entered my room shortly after I awoke to serve me my 'rising repast', as he called it. While he fed me, he explained how my cycle (their word for day) was going to pass.

After I finished the meal, I was bathed and dressed appropriately, according to Mueller, for going out. The only difference I could see between that outfit and the clothing I'd worn since I woke up in Hildah's place was that the fabric was a bit heavier and not in anyway translucent as my in-abode clothing had sometimes been. Otherwise, the sleeveless style, matching pants and color remained the same as the other clothes in Duwan's closet, designed to be comfortable and to display my bands and rank.

Mueller brushed my hair until it was tangle free and then, despite my protests, he pulled it up into a solitary ponytail at the crown of my head with the bulk of it streaming down my back. He gave me an approving grin, took me by the hand and led me out of the apartment, which he referred to as "the abode".

By looking out the glass wall at the far left end of the hallway, I could see we were located at least several floors up in an apartment building. We immediately turned to the right and proceeded to a solid, metallic wall at the other end, and with each step I took my feet sunk into the red, ultra-plush carpet. I glanced at the luxurious, lighter-red sitting chairs, the dark wood, highly-glossed tables and the paintings and suggestive photos of nude men and women that dotted the walls and was reminded of Relena's re-built palace, minus the predominant red and the porn, of course.

Reaching the end of the hallway, Mueller stopped in front of a solid, metal wall, and an inlaid rectangle suddenly formed to his right, and popped out from the wall. It folded over and down to reveal a black-screened panel. On its flat, shiny surface, unrecognizable figures began to light up in red, and to me they kind of looked like Greek or Japanese writing, languages completely foreign to me. A series of other symbols followed in quick succession.

"What's it doing?" I asked, curious and looking from the black screen to my caretaker.

"Securing us a mobile tube to the Corrective Center," he told me in a matter-of-fact tone. The screen darkened, flipped up and withdrew back into the wall, then disappeared completely, and not even a seam in the wall could be detected by the natural eye. Mueller took a step back and proceeded to patiently wait, facing once more the seemingly blank wall with my hand still secured in his.

I was curious as to what the mobile tube was, and, lucky for me, I didn't have to wait long to find out. The wall in front of us shifted and the outline of two doors appeared. They silently parted to reveal a clear-walled, six by four-foot capsule containing two red-cushioned seats that faced each other. It was a sit-down elevator, the weirdest one I'd ever seen.

"Does it always carry only two people?" I asked, thinking that a two-seat transport wasn't very efficient.

Mueller looked at me as if I'd just asked the stupidest question he'd ever heard. "There is only you and I," he answered. He stepped forward, tugging on my hand, and led me into the clear-walled booth, then set me into my seat and belted me in. Frankly, I was insulted, feeling like an infant being put into a child seat, but I held back my objections as I reminded myself that his protective behavior towards me was just part of his job.

"What kind of elevator is this?" I asked as he took the seat opposite me.

"I don't know elevator. This is a civie conveyer."

As soon as his seatbelt buckle snapped into place, the double doors closed and instantly the sensation of being dropped at a fast rate of speed was felt. My stomach and heart both vied for position in my throat. "What the hell?" I cried out, fearing I was going to die when we hit the bottom of the elevator shaft.

"Calm yourself," Mueller said, looking anything but alarmed. "We are secure."

I felt rather foolish for overreacting, but a glance out of the clear sides of the mobile tube showed me that we were moving at an incredible rate of speed. Suddenly, the direction changed and I found myself resting on my back with Mueller positioned above me. I turned my head just in time to see the transporter's walls become more opaque and the outside scenery we were passing by was distorted. I could barely make out large objects that I figured were tall buildings. Even blurred, they seemed to be overly bright and shiny. I wanted to get a better look at them and was frustrated that I couldn't. "Why can't I see outside?"

"The barrier becomes hazed in order to limit our vision to our outside surroundings. This protects us from becoming ill from the rapid movement," Mueller replied calmly, in complete control.

"How is this powered?" I asked, my curiosity was running about as fast as the transport. "I don't hear a motor of any kind. It's almost like we're being shot through a vacuum of air."

"We are in a vacuity of air. The capsulette is guided by magnetics."

That made a lot of sense to me, and then I understood why there seemed to be a lack of smog in the air. What a fantastic way to eliminate the hazardous omissions from cars and trucks, I thought. As I readied another barrage of questions for Mueller, the capsule readjusted and our positions changed once again. I suddenly found myself above and looking down on the blond. We rode that way for several moments before we were brought to an upright position and the sides of the capsule cleared. I could see that we were coming to a stop - though it was so smooth I honestly couldn't feel it. I was dying to know how the civvie conveyer system worked and couldn't even imagine what the braking system would be like, effectively stopping a fast moving container without the occupants feeling it. Before I could begin asking, the lights above us blinked twice and Mueller immediately unfastened his restraints, stood from his seat and unfastened mine just as the doors slid open.

He promptly led me out of the capsule and my eyes grew wide with wonder as I took a good look around my new surroundings. We appeared to be in a large terminal or some kind of grand lobby that was filled with people dressed in varying shades of blue, red and purple, all walking with purpose in small groups of two to four.

"Where are we?" I asked as Mueller began walking, or rather, pulling me alongside him, his grasp on my hand almost pinching. His longer, brisk strides forced me to a near run in an attempt to keep up with him. I guessed we were behind schedule.

"The Corrective Center," he answered. "Last eventide I communicated to them that you needed immediate handling. Preparation is being made for your arrival. We must be prompt."

"What are they going to correct again?"

"Your unnatural markings as well as any other unsightly blemishes or growths that keep you from conforming to your contract with Mistra Hildah. After reparation, your body will once again be acceptable to the code of Purple and your contract."

"I don't get it," I told him frankly. "You told me, or at least I think you told me, that I'm to help Hildah in having a child by donating my sperm that will be introduced to her harvested eggs, right?"

Mueller's eyebrows pinched together as he tried to sort out what I'd just said. "I'm not sure I understand your meaning, but I believe you are correct," he answered, still walking with purposeful strides towards the end of the large, indoor chamber. I continued to lope after him.

"Then why is she so concerned about my body, my scars and facial hair if I don't have to have se... I mean, be intimate with her?"

That question stopped the other man mid-step. He turned to address me, his face grave. "You are contracted to a Red, Duwan. It is an honor and a privilege to wear the solid Red band on your arm. Many others, including myself, would gladly trade situations with you, but we have not been as fortunate to be chosen. Those of us who are not Chosen, become caretakers. It is your duty to fulfill the contract Duwan has with Mistra Hildah and to do so with the highest standards of Purple. Mistra Hildah has the first and last word concerning your care, appearance and decorum. Do not question it again or you will risk a second warning on your collar. I stated before that correction is a thing you do not desire."

Without any further words, Mueller moved ahead, nearly dragging me along behind him. We approached a pear-shaped doorway with the odd marks over the top edge that I'd decided was writing and probably identifying the place as being the Corrective Center. As we drew near, the doors parted and we walked into what looked like a reception area. The room's walls were covered in what looked like fabric, similar to satin and pale blue in color. We approached a tall, crescent-shaped desk and a smiling woman wearing a pale red jumpsuit, sitting on a tall chair. Mueller placed his hand on a raised pad and the woman, a placid, fairly attractive brunet, gazed down at a screen.

"We are prepared for Chosen Duwan," she said, smile firmly in place. "If you will, follow the purple guide to the appropriate correcting room."

Muller nodded, tugged at my hand again and led me to a wall on the right where a doorway appeared on our approach. The doors opened up and we stepped through. Along the right side of the corridor was a strip of what looked like purple Christmas lights embedded into the wall, blinking on and off in consecutive order, leading us down the hall. The stream of lights led to a room where, upon entering, we were greeted by yet another woman dressed in red. It came to me as I studied her that she had absolutely perfect skin; in fact, it was flawless. There were no wrinkles or creases on her face or neck and it was impossible to judge her age. There was also a sense of well being that radiated from her, like a bright aura depicting good health in both mind and body. I was surprised, though I hadn't been aware of it until that moment, that everyone I'd met up to that point had that same healthy look about them.

After taking a look at my right upper arm, she stepped forward. "Chosen Duwan, welcome." She then looked towards Mueller with an equally polite smile. "Caretaker, Mueller. Greetings to you also. We are prepared for a complete corrective session, but I will need to reexamine the Chosen to assess the extent of damage done to him during the accident you reported. Please unclothe him."

Thankfully, she turned and pointed to a curtained area and I sighed with relief in seeing that I wasn't going to be stripped in front of her. Mueller pulled me into the area where we found two red, cloth-covered chairs, a small table and a wall-length mirror. My caretaker stood me in front of the mirror and let go of my hand only to busy himself with undressing me and setting my carefully folded clothes on the table.

I looked into the mirror and through the slight opening in the curtain behind me to see more people entering the enclosed area. "Mueller?" I questioned nervously as he pulled my pants down, leaving me standing in only my poor excuse for underwear. Swallowing was suddenly very difficult.

"These technicians are proficient in their vocation, Duwan. This procedure they perform every unit so you need not worry about your care. You will let them examine you and proceed with the correction with no complaint. Have I been clear?" He gave me a look that warned me that I'd better do what I was told and then added. "I remind you, it is Mistra Hildah who wishes you to be at your prime."

I felt uneasy as the curtain was opened and the group of red-dressed people descended on my near-naked body. I grabbed hold of my braid and held tightly to it; a habit I'd picked up as a child when I was uncertain of my surroundings. I've always been a bit body shy, always on the skinny side until after the war when I began to have regular meals and workouts in a gym to build up my physique. One of the many lessons I'd learned while living on the streets of L2 was that you didn't show off your body. Doing so was generally viewed as advertising for any number of sexual activities, namely prostitution. I'd only willingly displayed my body to Heero, and that had been in the privacy of our apartment.

I found myself, for the second day in a row, standing almost naked and being inspected by strangers. My cheeks burned brightly with embarrassment as several workers dressed in red used their fingers to point out each supposed defect on my skin while another person marked the imperfections on a flat, black-surfaced notebook.

"Remove his support garment," one of the women instructed Mueller, but when his hands obediently moved towards the elastic straps at my hips, I slapped them away. "No way," I hissed.

Mueller frowned at me, but I refused to give in and simply stated, under my breath, "I don't have any scars under there." He looked nervously to the center's workers for their reaction.

"Leaving the support garment on is acceptable and in accordance to his contract," the woman who greeted us at the door said, having overheard our conversation. With that stated, everyone's attention returned back to my body.

"This is humiliating," I mumbled.

"Chosen Duwan," the dark-haired woman called my attention to her. "I am Selba. I understand that an odd, unexplainable accident has caused your body to revert to its natural state and that you have forgotten some of your preceding times." She raised a finger up to touch an old scar on my arm that had been caused by the graze of an OZ bullet, and a frown of disapproval came to her face. "You have acquired numerous unnatural markings since our last meeting."

"Yes," I replied, but left any explanation for said markings unspoken.

"Worry not for we will correct them," the woman said confidently. "Do you recall your first correction?"

I shook my head in answer to her question.

Giving me a reassuring smile, she continued. "You will presently be led to the heated space where your skin will be properly cleansed. The correction will begin after that preparation. If you will come with me, Chosen."

She took up my hand and I had no choice but to follow, feeling incredibly self-conscious as I passed by the other workers. Selba led me out of the room and a short distance down the hallway that had several copper doors that were glossy from being buffed to a reflective shine. I kept my eyes mostly to the floor, not wanting to see my nearly nude body amongst the clothed employees as they followed behind me. You'd think in a posh place like that they'd have given me a towel or a robe or something. Embarrassed by my near-naked state and stuck with an uncomfortable piece of fabric up my butt crack, I decided that whoever it was that invented the g-string should be shot a hundred times over.

Selba stopped at the second door from the end of the hallway and it opened automatically. I looked for the opening device but there wasn't any that I could see as I followed her through the open door. I found myself in a small eight by six foot room with shelves and cupboards lining the walls. From off one shelf she pulled out three deep red towels. I expected her to offer one to me, but instead, she set them down, and surprised me by unzipping her jumpsuit to reveal something equal to a one-piece bathing suit underneath.

Feeling a touch on my shoulder, I turned my head to see Mueller standing immediately behind me. "At this juncture I am required to leave you in Selba's care. I will promptly return for you when you have completed the correction."

"Can't you stay?" I asked, feeling unusually insecure and uncharacteristically needy.

"No," he answered, then smiled, trying to reassure me. "But I will return."

Selba nodded to my caretaker, dismissing him, and Mueller promptly left the room.

"We need to secure your hair and bands for protection against the heat and lotions," the woman began. I stood still, feeling uneasy, as hands from behind me took up my loose hair, coiled it around the band on top of my head that held my hair in it's ponytail and secured it with some kind of clip so that it was out of the way. A thick cap resembling a towel was set over the top of my head and secured by elastic around my hairline and over my ears. Selba then took the time to carefully place some type of cover over the metal bands around my neck and ankles. Opening a tube she'd gotten from off the shelf, she meticulously applied the thick, greasy-looking substance over my arm bands.

Inspecting the protective cap and coverings, the dark-haired woman smiled with approval. "Very good, let us proceed." She picked up the three towels, took my hand and faced the door that had been behind her. I searched the wall surrounding it, wondering what was triggering the opening mechanism. Again, it opened without any apparent movement on her part and I wondered what triggered it. I forgot all about it when a wave of hot air hit me full on, a warning as to what I was getting myself into. Selba led me into a wood paneled room with some sort of metal box set against the back wall, probably the heat source. In the center of the room was a wood slatted bench and I realized this was a dry sauna, not unlike those I'd seen in some of Quatre's houses. The Arabian craved the dry heat of the desert and a sauna such as this was like a home away from home for him. Somehow, the heat and thinking about taking saunas with Quatre helped me relax and give into the inevitable, whatever that was going to be. I just hoped the correcting business wouldn't hurt. From my observations, it didn't seem to me that this was a society that enjoyed pain. No sooner had that thought come into my head, it was immediately discarded when I reminded myself about the correction collar I wore and the warnings Mueller had given me about the device.

"You may recline or sit here," Selba said, and I noticed she'd already laid two of the large towels out on the bench. I sat down on them and folded my hands in my lap, not wanting to expose any more of myself than necessary.

As if reading my thoughts, the woman in charge smiled indulgently at me. "I will leave you here for a short period and return with refreshment to keep you hydrated and content. Do you wish to be alone or to have companionship?"

"Alone, please. But don't lock the door." Ever since Wufei and I had almost been snuffed out on the Alliance's Moon base, I hated being lock up in a windowless room.

She nodded in agreement then left the sweltering room.

I didn't know how long I'd been in there, but I knew that after only a few moments that I was sweating bullets. I'm not normally a person who sweats a lot but evidently the sauna was designed for just that purpose.

I was almost grateful when the wood-covered door opened some time later and Selba, still dressed in her bathing suit, entered with two containers and a hand towel draped over her forearm. She handed me one of the glass containers and I welcomed its coolness in my hand. There was a straw sticking out of the sealed top and I tentatively sipped at it, not knowing what to expect taste wise. I was pleasantly surprised to taste a fruity liquid that was very refreshing. It seemed the drinks in this world were all exceptional. I continued to drink the chilled, flavorful juice, letting it cool my body from the inside until the hollow slurping sound told me I was done.

"My gratitude," I said, handing the woman back the empty container. She exchanged the empty container for the other one in her hand.

"Sip this one more slowly," she told me with that damn smile still fixed on her face.

By the time I was half way done, I found myself feeling good, very, very good. I was aware that I was smiling and because I felt so loopy, it was probably a pretty goofy-looking grin. Usually, the only time I've felt like that was after drinking a bit too much alcohol on an empty stomach. Contrary to what most would believe, when I drink, I don't get loud, or angry and belligerent or even happy. It's rather embarrassing that when inebriated, the former God of Death reacts differently than my personality would predict. I've been told that after I have a few drinks, I simply begin smiling contentedly and then slowly fade to sleep. That's exactly how I felt after drinking the flavorful fruit drink. Some part of my mind told me I'd been drugged, but I just didn't care. My eyes closed and the lethargy deepened as gentle hands taking the drink from my lax hand. A moment later those hands eased my body down on the towel so that I was facing up. I felt my legs being lifted and stretched out over the towels.

"Just a few more inits and we will begin," Selba's soft-spoken, feminine voice that seemed so far away whispered in my ear. At that point, I'd lost all sense of time and reason. I felt so damn good that I was only vaguely aware of several sets of hands smoothing a cool, creamy lotion on my overheated skin. Their touch reminded me of a thorough, health-spa style massage. I thought of Heero then, and of the long body massages he used to give me, but even those pleasant memories drifted away from me as I slipped into a hazy state of numb pleasure.

I vaguely recall being turned over, but again, I couldn't have cared less. It was probably the drug, but I really didn't feel threatened as the touch I experienced had no sexual overtones that would make me sit up and fight off the drug-induced lethargy. There began a tingling sensation on the surface of my skin, like the sharp sting of aftershave applied right after shaving. Hot damn but it burned. I tried to protest as the sensation grew but I stumbled over my words of complaint, and then a straw and the delicious fruit juice was in my mouth once more. Swallowing was awkward while lying face down, but the cool juice was a welcome relief to my heated body, burning skin and parched throat.

I don't know how long I lay there before I realized the hands were gone. I was brought to a higher level of awareness when tepid water sluiced over my burning skin and numerous hands and towels vigorously rubbed my body. I was only minutely aware of being lifted and carried elsewhere, but there seemed to be no evil intent in that either, and I could vaguely hear soft, soothing voices murmuring reassurances to me that all was well.

The sense of heavy lassitude continued to dull my mind even as the burning and stinging sensation began again on varying points on my body as well as on my face and beneath my chin. Unable to muster enough strength to open my eyes, I tried to complain, but it took too much effort to accomplish such a normally simple task. After a while, another straw was put to my mouth and I concentrated only on sucking the sweet nectar into my mouth and swallowing it down my throat. I vaguely noted that the last drink tasted different from the others I'd been given. Shortly after I finished the drink, I began to come out of my pleasant and lethargic state to a clearer awareness of myself and my surroundings.

"Chosen Duwan, you are to wake up now." I recognized Selba's voice and tried to follow it to a more wakeful state.

"What happened?" I asked, feeling somewhat reluctant to wake up fully. With a dry mouth and a lingering, bitter taste on my tongue, I asked, "Did you drug me?"

"It is standard practice to assure our patrons are comfortable during the cleansing and correcting process. Without the mind and body relaxed it can be very uncomfortable."

I moved my hand from my side and brought it to my chest, noting as it journeyed that a towel had been draped over my hips. My skin tingled and under my fingers, it felt strangely and incredibly soft. I opened my eyes to see the dark haired woman leaning over me, smiling, of course. "You have done very well, Chosen Duwan. There was more damage than we expected, but the correction has been successful. Come, view your rejuvenated body."

"Rejuvenated?"

"Yes," she answered cheerfully, and I noticed that she was again fully dressed in her red jumper. "We've returned your body back to its pure state, one which is required of all Chosen. Mistra Hildah will be pleased once more."

A bit confused, I allowed the woman to help me sit up from the soft padded bench I found myself on. She continued to pull at my arm until I stood, then waited patiently by my side as I struggled for a moment to gain my balance.

"Movement of your limbs will perpetuate a more rapid recovery from the affects of the relaxing elixir."

I nodded and, like a good little lamb, followed where the woman led, not too surprised to find myself standing in front of a semi-circle of mirrors. My eyes focused on my reflection and instantly widened with disbelief as I took in the sight before me. That incredulous expression quickly changed to one of horror. The ensuing anguished scream that burst from me resounded through the establishment, and it was loud enough that I was pretty sure it carried all the way back to earth.

TBC

Author's note and response: Thanks to all who not only reviewed, but also offered to help while my proofreader is out of town. It's been taken care of. I really do appreciate your generous offers and response to my request. And to Halli, I really can't answer your question as it would give away too much of the ending (and I'm not even half way to that point). I wouldn't be much of a writer if you figured out the whole story (or if I gave it away) right off the bat. As for wanting to see a little Heero and Duo action, I'd like to see that, too. Unfortunately, Heero happens to be in another dimension at this point in the story. Not much I can do about that. If it helps, there's lime in the next chapter.