Chapter Twenty: Me and You
"And that is why Dr. Beddington and I stole that rocket." Charity Bentham finished her testimony and slumped back in her seat, grateful to Bishop Babcock for arranging a private hearing.
"Dr. Carlton's dangerous experiments jeopardized the lives of everyone on the Greenland expedition, including Miss Bentham." Humphrey Babcock rested a firm hand on Charity's shoulder, emphasizing to the tall, slim World Controllers in the oak-lined meeting room that the little Beta Minus was under his protection.
"We're grateful for your testimony, Miss Bentham." Elizabeth Appleton placed a pencil between her lips, frowning in thought. The statuesque World Controller was tall, much taller than Charity, and she was also a distinguished scientist. With her frosty manner and sharp features she was really quite intimidating.
"So what happens now?" Charity felt a little dazed. She'd been talking and talking all afternoon, spilling everything that happened to her in Greenland. She'd even described her passionate encounter with Bjorn Hellborn, the big blonde beast who'd been tortured by Dr. Carlton. Making love to him had eased his torment, but Charity came away feeling empty and somewhat ashamed. Dr. Carlton had escaped, and she'd done nothing at all, really.
"Now we go to dinner," Humphrey Babcock said, in his hearty voice. The hulking white-haired bishop rose from his leather armchair and began briskly rubbing Charity's shoulders. "You've had a busy day, young lady. Time to put your feet up and relax."
"Mm." After sitting in that chair for so long, giving testimony under the bright lights, Charity's tired muscles felt sore and stiff. She closed her eyes, relaxing beneath the older man's knowing touch.
"We'll need to corroborate your story with Dr. Edith Beddington," Elizabeth Appleton was saying. "And I'd like to consult with Jefferson Voltaire as well. Susan, see if he's free for dinner."
"Huh?" Charity's emerald-green eyes flew open. The night before, she'd been the one consulting with Jefferson Voltaire. The dark-eyed World Controller with the knowing smile and the lean, bronzed body had made love to Charity all night, giving her climax after climax. Yet somehow he'd left her unsatisfied, her well-used little body craving a repeat performance, almost panting for more.
"Jeff and I are old friends." The cool and collected World Controller gave the agitated little Beta secretary a knowing smirk, as though sensing her jealous thoughts and jumbled emotions.
"Everyone belongs to everyone else," Bishop Babcock boomed, in the hearty voice of a man of faith. He patted Charity on the back, signaling that the interview was over. "Come along, my dear."
"I don't see why that Appleton woman had to make such a big thing of having Jeff tonight," Charity grumbled, as she was just getting started on a juicy steak at the Ford and Falcon Tavern outside London. Bishop Babcock had a permanent table there, and was always treated as an important guest.
"Yes, our shapely brunette World Controller was practically licking her lips in anticipation," Humphrey chuckled. "Everyone belongs to everyone else, you know."
"Stop saying that!" Charity stabbed her fork into a juicy morsel. The Bishop was right, of course. Just like a savage, she was craving Jeff and wanting him all to herself. She wanted to swallow him up, to devour him, just like the juicy steak on her plate.
"Jefferson will have to satisfy Elizabeth tonight," Humphrey said diplomatically. "But that doesn't mean we can't have some fun."
"You're right, of course." Charity dabbed her lips with a napkin. "Sorry I'm being such a beast, Your Fordship. You've been super!"
"Nonsense," Humphrey chided. "For a Fordly man like me, a night out with a young woman is a rare treat. Now let's forget all about those dreary old World Controllers and order a bottle of wine."
Charity didn't really care for wine. Soma was quicker and there was no headache afterwards. But by the time they staggered out of the Ford and Falcon Tavern, they were clinging to each other like very old friends and Charity was laughing her head off.
"Just wait till I get you into bed," the older man boasted, fumbling with the keys to his private helicopter. "I know tricks between the sheets that John, Jacob, Jonah Jefferson never thought of!"
"His name is Voltaire!" Charity couldn't stop laughing. She nearly fell on her face simply climbing into the helicopter. Humphrey had to help her up, his big hands greedily caressing her backside.
"Just me and you," Humphrey mumbled, struggling with the keys. "Just wait till it's only me and you!"
"Are you sure you should fly?" Charity was feeling weary all of a sudden, her body ready for sleep. "We can always stay in town. Get a bed for two at the Ford and Falcon."
"Nonsense!" With a roar of triumph, the old man started up the engine. Charity was already unconscious, passed out from wine. The tiny silver helicopter rose and sailed off into the blackness.