The Lecture: Chapter 3
I.
She desperately needed sleep, and dared not seek it. After a long afternoon and evening seeking answers, her bed beckoned her like a lover, a frightening lover. She remembered too many nights when, buoyed by hope, she had awakened in its' abusive clutch gasping and sobbing, awakened to the memory of gentle eyes, soft lips, and blood.
II.
The evening began in hope and ended in frustration. After leaving the secretary she had gone to the office she shared with another part time instructor to change. Soft, washer faded jeans, sweatshirt, and runners fit her evenings' itinerary much better than heels and a smart business suit. Convinced that with the clues she already had, she would be able to find her answer in a short time. Reality struck her harshly when she drove to the little enclave of mini-mansions that the senior deans and major VIPS were quartered in. No indications of a recent move in were apparent. There were no people on the front lawns, and no evening joggers. With the exception of lights in about half of the houses, the place looked deserted and empty. After parking her car on a side street, a stealthy investigation left her cursing efficient disposal people. All of the dumpsters were empty, or nearly so, no empty moving boxes or the usual paraphernalia of settling in.
She returned to her car, pondering her next move. The thought of calling on some of her resources was immediately discarded. If she told anyone what she was doing, those who knew her history would stop her. They might pity her, but they would not help her, not again.
"Think; think, dammit, I was once good at this. Or was I, when did I have to find a target by myself?"
"All right, so you were never a PI, how many visiting lecturers with entourage can there be? Especially an oriental entourage."
"I could just knock on each door and ask."
"Oh, yeah, real smart, and when the campus police ask you, (after the third door you bang on), who you're looking for you say….?"
"Ok, Ok, bad idea. How about I just walk slowly up the sidewalk to see if I can see anything? Do that every half hour or so for two hours, then if there's nothing I go to the library first thing tomorrow and get a current map of the campus. These may not be the only VIP houses on campus."
"Now that's a plan."
The two hours had turned into three, then four, only after five hours and twelve trips up and down the area had she been able to force herself to leave. Now she sat nodding on her couch, shying from her bed. The majority of nights she slept soundly and dreamlessly. Too many nights, however, the sight of an almost familiar blonde head, a certain colored jersey, or even a once familiar scent would spiral into terror and regret. It often seemed as if she had to be punished for daring to hope. Exhausted, she finally stumbled to her bed and collapsed.
She woke with a pillow soaked in tears but the choked sobs were missing for the first time. It felt like Pandora's curse had finally turned into Pandora's blessing. The crushing weight of despair that usually accompanied her occasional unconscious memories was absent. She could remember her dream without choking for air, or reaching for tissues. So many nights awakening to choking tears, regrets, always the same memory.
Shego and Drakken. Always the same two faces laughing at her, her date, her newest crush, the syntho drone standing behind them, silent and smirking. The last thing she remembered was walking out on the portico of the gym, Eric's arm around her waist, and hearing Shegos' voice commanding "901, now.", then shock and darkness.
They had taken no chances this time. Even though she had not been in mission clothes, someone, hopefully Shego, had stripped her. Her shoes, hose and gown had been taken. The only things shielding her from the leers of the henchman were her panties and the ropes securing her to the pillar. When she had begun to recover, Shego had been there with a syringe, sneering "Should of stuck to baby sitting, cheerleader." before injecting her. Whatever the solution had been, the only part of her body she controlled were her eyes.
In helpless despair, she watched Drakken begin his campaign of destruction. The antenna rising, the ranks of giant robots flying over the building, framed in the floor to ceiling windows. Drakken had finally won. Her hopelessness and helplessness so complete even the relief of tears was denied her. There would be no rescue, not this time. In her pride and arrogance she had told her best friend, the man who had always been there for her to 'get a life, stop being such a loser, and find someone else to leach onto' when he tried to warn her. No matter if she survived, she would never forget the hurt and betrayal in his eyes receding into a coldness she would never have believed him capable of. He had stood there, back straightening, as if dropping a burden, seeming to grow six inches or more. He had looked down at her with those cold eyes, turned and strode out. No, there would be no help, no last minute rescue from him. In her despair she knew, this time she had gone too far.
At this point, she could sometimes force herself to wake up. An exercise in futility, for she knew that the next time she slept, like a rewound tape, the dream would begin again until she finally allowed it completion. Once completed, the nightmare rarely returned until the next prompting. After all these years and repetitions, she understood that her penance would complete itself, whether she willed it or not. This morning the tears could be removed with hope. She was convinced that something would happen today.
III.
She was not a happy camper.After semi crawling out of bed she had intended to go straight to the library to search for current maps of the campus housing. Instead, a habitual look at her day planner had reminded her that she had to report to her primary occupation this morning, Global Justice. One look at her face, and her subordinates decided today would be good day to take comp time. Unfortunately, the bureaucracy that was GJ demanded at least 48 hours notice. Most were playing least in sight. Not that they weren't proud of their boss, they were. She was one of the most decorated officers in GJ, as well as being the youngest ever promoted to a supervisory position. Those accomplishments did not stop her from sometimes being a right pain in the ass, as well as being, well, somewhat strange.
If she hadn't known her bosses' private history, the growl that answered her cheery "Morning, boss" might have driven Marcy to the ladies room. She was not just a high clearance private secretary, however, she was also one of the bosses very few confidantes. A trust she had earned with three years of loyal and tight lipped service. Marcy would not be found at the coffee machine trading foibles and secrets. Recognizing the signs, five minutes later she entered the inner sanctum with a large mug of coffee, laced with sugar and cream, as a peace offering. She was encouraged by a heartfelt "thank you" to sit and sip her own coffee.
"Bad night, boss?"
A hesitant "Is it that obvious?"
Marcy had to laugh, "No, the rest just think you're pissed off at some screw up, and they are searching their guilty consciences."
A small smile answered her.
"There's hope! Is the monster of Middleton leaving the building? That's a chuckle, I know it is, or was it a snort? I never can get those two right."
"Ok, Marcy, Ok, I'll try not to frighten the children anymore. What's on my schedule today?"
"You have a nine o'clock meeting with Dr. Director, if possible the legal staff would like to discuss the Dementor case with you, aaand after lunch, wait for it, wait for it, you have your annual …ta da…unarmed combat qualification test. That last oughta help what ails you."
"Too true, no way I can reschedule is there?"
"Nope, but if there was something you needed to get done maybe I could help?"
A thoughtful "No, I don't think…wait one, Marcy, I need a current listing of all residences for visiting professors or VIPs at Middleton University. I especially need to know of any that have been occupied in the last ten days. And keep it under your hat, all right:"
"A hat? And hide these beautiful golden locks of mine, never happen. But don't worry, all on the QT. Any particular person you're searching for?"
"Not at the moment, but it might help that he has an entourage with him. Students and associates, so it will have to be a multiple bedroom. Now, leave, let me get some of this paperwork out of the way before I see the director. Oh, and could you get me another cup?"
"Not a problem, boss lady, and I'll have this all ready for you when you finish the exam."
"Please and thank you."
IV.
"Marcy, please, please tell me that you have good news for me."
"You know, our office budget is about shot for this quarter."
"So?"
"That chair is not gonna take many more flops like that before it surrenders."
"Oh, very funny, I'll make sure you get center stage at the comedy club."
"What happened, I expected you sooner?"
"The new evaluator? Started with three opponents, when I took them out I guess I did it too quick for him so he just kept adding personnel."
"Ouch, how many?"
"We finally called it quits at ten."
"Well, sounds like you passed, and…" Marcy grinned handing over a thin folder, "do I pass?"
"I'm too tired; just give me the short version."
"Short version, no visiting professors or VIPS have needed a house on campus for over three months. There are visiting residents but they've all been there at least five months."
"Damn." There was no sense asking if Marcy was certain, before Marcy would present anything to her, it was correct.
"But, as you were interested in multiple residences, I kinda went past your outline."
"Really? Did you find anything?"
"Maybe. Two weeks ago some kind of foundation bought that old white elephant on the north side of the campus. Twenty acres of land, huge house, and privacy."
"I remember driving past a tall Spanish style wall, but how did property that close too the university stay undeveloped?"
"Some kind of legal hassle between the heirs "
"Any information on the foundation?"
"Not much, private, very low key, all I can tell you for sure is the name. Which is a little strange itself."
"OK, the name?"
"The Lotus."
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A/N I'm not fond of authors notes as I think they interfere with the flow of the story. However, one time. Thanks very much to all who have reviewed this story and my others. Your help and encouraging comments have been greatly appreciated. Now to anticipate a question. I am not using the main characters name until much later, not from any desire to titillate or confuse, but rather as an experiment to see if I can write this coherently and logically without ever putting a name to the protaganist. If any of the readers become confused, then I am messing up. Finally, I may have to leave town for 4-6 weeks, so I will try and finish as many of my tales as I can. Again, Many thanks.
Spectre