Elena led him through the snack room down a hallway that eventually revealed a large archway. It peered in on a vast space lit by fluorescent lights—normal-looking cubicles scattered with cube-like glass offices, some opaque. It was like peering into an office on the Outside. The surrealness of it slammed into him. He grasped the doorway.
Elena stepped up beside him. "Would you like to go inside?"
Get intel. Focus. "Sure."
She smiled. "I'd like to check in on a couple of my Admins. You can catch a glimpse of how this works."
She strode inside and headed toward the opaque office on the right. It was made of floor-to-ceiling black glass, dark as obsidian.
A near-invisible door slid open. Jason followed her inside.
A woman sat at a desk. He'd seen her before; it was Maylin. Anger surged through him when he recalled how yesterday she'd been whipping Karim. Now, she sat here calmly, her hand poised on the pencil over a notepad.
"Yes, what is it?"
Elena stepped forward. Leaned over the shiny black desk which was an open rectangle built out of sheer marble.
Maylin sat back, twiddling the pencil. Her dark eyes gave Elena her full focus, a hint of apologetic deference in them.
"You wanted to ask me something," said Elena.
Maylin nodded.
Elena dragged the spare cushioned chair from along the wall and sat down. Neither of them acknowledged Jason.
"I just wanted to bring to your attention a waste of resources."
"What is that?"
"It's a small thing—not surprising it is beneath your notice. It doesn't have any other value anymore…. So I was wondering if I could use it for a research project."
"What project?"
"Determining the before and after effects of nanodelivery of drugs to the brain. The subject doesn't have to be conscious for the experiment."
"You mean Dr. Aziz."
Jason's heart dropped. Farah.
"She's basically deadweight now, dragging down our systems. At this point it's unlikely she'll wake up, not without brain damage. Besides—" Maylin turned to Jason, "she's redundant; this one has the information you seek. And you're in the process of extracting it, I see."
"That will take some time. Besides, there are other things that are the priority. And redundancy isn't always inefficient. Efficiency can be taken to an extreme. It's good to have fail-safes."
"It's not likely she'll be of any use…."
"Perhaps. But I will say when she is to be taken off the current program and sent to another."
"But—"
"I'm not sure why you want her so badly."
Maylin leaned forward, fist tightened around the pencil so hard he thought it might break. "I'm here to make the most of what we have."
"And I am here to make the overall decisions. With something so important—we cannot afford any missteps. Your project is secondary to the goal of gaining amina."
"If that's true, why don't you—"
"I have my reasons. In the meantime, let's wait a few more days. Perhaps a week. Then you can have your raw materials." Elena stood, absently bracing her hands around her stomach.
Sympathy crossed Maylin's eyes. "How are you doing?"
"Well enough. Nothing too uncomfortable… no new scares."
"Michelle and I were wondering… She always wants an excuse for a party. But—would you like a baby shower? We perhaps should have thought of it sooner… but now we figure you might like a distraction…"
"That sounds wonderful."
"What would you like to do?"
"Surprise me. If you wouldn't mind, though…" She leaned forward, hand on her hip. "Bringing your slave? The main stipulation—any beautiful men you can find, slave or not."
"I… can bring Karim. How many guests would you like?"
"Mm, probably an intimate affair…. This little one is pretty particular. Quite the little dictator." She laughed ruefully, rubbing her stomach. "How about ten?"
Maylin inclined her head. "Are you bringing Jason?"
Elena turned to him. "Would you like to come?"
"Where?"
She laughed. "The baby shower, of course."
He had a feeling it wouldn't be a normal baby shower… and didn't know if there would be any intel value to it. Perhaps he could do something to help Karim and the others, but he doubted it. He'd probably just be subjected to more degradation along with the others. "I think… I'll pass."
"I'd think you'd take any opportunity to get away from the basement…"
"I tend to… not like your parties." That was an understatement.
"It won't be like Zar's. It'll be tasteful. Right, May?"
Maylin nodded.
"So Michelle wants to speak with me as well?"
"Mainly about the baby shower. There might be something else though… I'm not sure."
Elena chuckled. "I know how she operates." She turned and strode out the door. Maylin turned back to her work, not looking as Jason left her office.
Elena led him through a maze of cubicles; several people looked up, but most ignored him, intent on their work. Each office had its own character, such as little plants and knickknacks on the desks. Jason wondered if all these people were totally willing, and whether they knew of what went on Beneath. Perhaps they turned a blind eye to cope. Or perhaps they were all steeped in evil… From what he'd seen, it was probably the former. But how many people were like Tamara, and how many people were like Elena?
Near the center-left of the space was a transparent office partially concealed with blinds. Designs and squiggly characters were written on the wall-windows. As Elena opened the door, it revealed a woman standing near one corner, writing on the wall with a magenta marker.
"Oh, hi," she said, turning, twirling the marker in her fingers. "What's up?" Her hair was pulled back and braided with gold. Gold sparkled on her eyelids and cheeks. She was draped in a long, Egyptian-inspired robe and wore large golden earrings and an iridescent scarab necklace.
Elena slid inside. "Maylin says you'd like to throw a party for me."
"If you wouldn't mind." She stepped up to her white desk and leaned against it. It was cluttered with piles of paper and writing devices and little stacks of sticky notes.
"I do need something pleasant after this. A way to relax, have fun. Nothing too wild though."
"I've been planning in pieces all day… but I can tone it down for you."
Elena laughed. "That'd be nice."
"Would an Egyptian theme be okay?"
"That'd be lovely. Though I usually like things a bit more subtle, intricate… bold can be a nice counterpoint."
"When do you want it?"
"How about next week?"
"That'll give me time to get it together."
"Make sure you finalize it with Maylin. She'll be able to keep you organized and keep from getting too… out of hand."
"I do tend to do that…. I have to remind myself it's for the baby."
"We don't want him to come too soon. Even though he's gotten particularly troublesome…"
"Troublesome ones are the most beautiful."
"I hope you're right. Speaking of which—how is Talia?"
"She's amazing. Don't get to spend as much time with her as I like but… she's got everything she needs here."
"I can already tell she'll be a great asset to the team someday. Well—we'd better get going."
"Before you leave, I want to let you know we're getting our new batch of elexes soon."
"When?"
"Oh, one or two days."
"I want the specifics. Draw up a report for me and have it to me by tomorrow morning."
"Yes, Supreme." She bowed a little, hand on heart.
"You'll bring Zakhar to the party?"
"I wasn't sure you wanted him…."
"He's beautiful, so…. If you can spice him up a bit that'd be great."
"Sure." She smiled. "I think I know just the thing…."
Elena waved and strode out the door. As they headed out into the hallway, Jason wondered if he should go to the party after all… he didn't want to see whatever she had in mind, but he also didn't want to leave Karim and Zakhar to their fate. At the very least, he could diffuse some of the guests' attention….
The very thought made him feel sick.
Elena opened a large wooden door carved with elaborate scenes that looked like a medieval hunt and feast. A broad rectangular room spread out before him; it had an arched ceiling dazzled with lights, some hinting a flicker of iridescence, spinning slowly. Tables were scattered about the room in a pleasingly random way; they were decorated with elaborate centerpieces—flowers and candles arranged as if in a delicate dance. She led him to the large table near the center, under a low chandelier. She gestured to the chair opposite her, and he sat down slowly, taking in his surroundings.
There were a few other guests, but it was mostly deserted except for the employees.
Elena settled back, lacing her hands over her stomach. She looked at him with gentle curiosity, her blue eyes flickering with the light from the chandelier. "So, what would you like to start out with?"
"What do you have?"
"We should start with a drink, of course." She listed about ten wines. There was no menu in sight.
"I'd just like some water."
She frowned. "Very well."
He was going to fight for every inch of autonomy. This dinner started with her giving him a "choice", but he was acutely aware it could change with the snap of a finger. With the slight pressure of her fingertip against her palm and a slice of pain down his spine. A slithering touch, implying many more demands to come…. Slicing his will apart piece by piece….
From now on—resist as much as possible while getting as much intel as possible. Not let her touch me… except as a last resort…
Easier said than done. With her control of the autoshocks… and me bound by her pregnancy… She probably doesn't want to shock me to oblivion, and I know she doesn't want to damage me irrevocably. Work within those boundaries… I might have to get creative… play some sort of game…. Try to win her mindgames.
First I have to figure out what they are. What her game is now.
Know the enemy's approach before I can form a good defense and offense.
A waiter appeared with a bottle of wine and a pitcher of water. From the look of him, his presence here probably wasn't willing. His eyes were sad, and he was thin and worn, although with the semblance of a mask—light makeup, his black hair in a swishy, feathery, artfully messy design. A shimmering purple tuxedo and golden bracelet.
"Can I take your order?" he asked.
"We're still thinking about it," said Elena. "Actually, could you ask Chef to come out? I'd like to speak with him."
"Of course." He bowed elegantly and left.
"You'll like Chef," said Elena. "He's marvelous."
"Is he here willingly?"
"Of course. I wouldn't want anyone unwilling… it'd taint the dishes."
"What about the others."
"Others?"
"Doesn't the fact that they're slaves taint the food?"
She waved a hand. "They just prepare what the master orders. He's the artist."
"Where did he come from."
"From a little lowland restaurant. Hardly known, but exquisite. I plucked him from his environment and established him here. He didn't protest in the least." She smiled.
"That doesn't sound especially consensual…"
"I can be… very persuasive. I didn't have to say much. Just – the perks."
"Which means—slaves."
She shook her head. "Having complete control over what he served. With a wildly out of this world salary he couldn't get anywhere else. And he could be with his family."
"His family is here?"
"Not here, no. But close. Others have their families here."
"Is… that what you were talking about? Talia—is she Michelle's daughter?"
Elena nodded. "She's growing into a gorgeous young woman. At the cusp of adulthood."
"You'll ruin her."
"On the contrary, we can give her the freedom no one else has. And the attention—we know how to bring up children here."
"By exposing them to cruelty."
"We teach her how to be strong. We give her all the opportunities to explore the path she desires. Every chance to blossom."
"Meanwhile—so many children are slaves—" He felt like getting up and leaving. Or smashing everything in sight. With effort, he made himself stay seated. "How old is Talia?"
"Twelve."
"Sasha will be twelve tomorrow. It's her birthday. But—she's here instead of with her family. Horrible things could happen to her at any moment." His throat tightened. "Couldn't you at least—send the children home? I will never consider working for you—but it's even less likely when you traffic kids. If… you care about me… couldn't you stop this?"
"The market for children is grand, and the demand is insatiable… uprooting it would tear our organization apart. We might never recover."
"It'd deserve it."
"I might—might—consider it. If you… do something for me."
"What."
"Everything I ask of you."
"I…can't."
"That's what I thought."
"What about Sasha?"
"What about her?"
"Could you… at least send her home? I…. might…" He wanted to resist Elena… not make bargains. The only thing he had was his body. (he couldn't sell his mind and soul… if they could still be intact if his body were sold…) He couldn't follow through with such a thought.
"Might—what?"
"I… don't…"
"I could take what I want… but it's nicer to have someone who participates. If you'd do that for me, something small… On the other hand… Sasha is a valuable slave."
"Valuable?"
"An elex."
"What's that?"
"Elite exclusive. For the most elite customers, we customize the slaves to their exact specifications. It sometimes takes months to mold them. They're extremely expensive by the time they're finished."
"You could forfeit one of them."
"She's already partially paid for, hand-selected. The customer would be very upset if we didn't come through."
"Couldn't you make an exception? Just this once?"
"There are things that are more valuable to me…." She smiled slyly, looking him up and down.
"What do you want. "
"Not much. Just… something a little better than just a kiss."
"What does that mean."
"Something I'd cash in later."
He looked away, wanting to escape this surreal, twisted conversation. Fighting he could face (he'd be able to resist her, he knew now, after his practice).
"Think about it," said Elena. "In the meantime— Ah! Here's our wine."
A short man strode toward them. He wore a chef's hat and an apron with cherries on it.
"Jean!" said Elena. She stood.
"Elle!" said the man. They embraced warmly.
Then Elena introduced them. "This is Jean. You can call him Chef. Everyone does."
"That they do," said the man, grinning. He described the wine; Jason tuned it out, along with Elena's enthusiastic replies.
The room faded.
How could I willingly give her any of myself?
It isn't everything.
But what she asks is too much…
Even to save an innocent child?
How do you know Elena will honor the bargain? How do you know she won't try to take more?
If you give her this much… it's already too late for you. You might as well not escape.
He didn't know how he could stomach…participating. And he dreaded knowing what exactly she had in mind.
But perhaps… he could turn his mind off… for a little while…
Betray Connie…
She would understand.
Would she?
It wasn't agreeing to… everything… He could pretend it didn't count….
What would God want? That wouldn't be nonconsensual… He'd be agreeing to it, thus complicit.
He had to save Sasha. Better would be to escape.
If he could figure out how to escape by tomorrow… or whenever Elena intended to take Sasha away….
"What else can I do for you this evening?" said Jean.
"We'll start out with some hors d'oeuvres," said Elena, "then we'll take the salmon. We'll finish with the decadent chocolate supreme."
"Named for you." He winked.
"I want to treat Jason to the best we have to offer."
Jean bowed, smiling, and bustled off.
"I thought I had a choice," said Jason.
"You aren't exactly familiar with our menu."
"Where is the menu?"
She tapped her head.
"How are people supposed to order?"
"They memorize it."
"That doesn't make sense."
"It does; if you come here enough, you will memorize it. You can visit the restaurant any time you like. World class cuisine right here—and you don't have to pay for it."
"Really?"
"Well, there are some card limits for the lower employees. You have to start paying eventually. But the basic plan has a reasonable number of visits on it. Of course, if you're Admin, you hardly even need a card. Extreme excesses will be monitored anyway."
"I don't suppose I have unlimited visits."
"Slaves usually don't. But you're special. Thus—you get to come here whenever you want, free of charge!"
"What's the catch."
"No catch. Just one of the perks of working here."
"I won't work here."
"Reward for being mine, then."
He would never use those privileges, he decided. To do so would be to acknowledge she owned him.
It would be nice if I could find out enough to escape tonight… but it's not likely I can find out that much now without seeming suspicious…
It's natural to ask things. She knows I'm adversarial. I just can't let on anything that seems like I'm planning another escape.
Elena poured the wine. To his dismay, she also poured some into his wine glass. At least he also had water.
"This is a beautiful aperitif," she said. "As with most of our wines, it comes from our own vineyards. I've got something special for us at the end of the meal."
"What is it?"
She smiled. "You'll see." She leaned over the table, the top of her stomach hitting it. She reached out toward his injured hand; he pulled it away and hid it under the table. "How is your hand?"
"It's fine."
"Fine?" she pressed.
"Doesn't hurt much. Not with the painkillers."
"Ours are the best."
"You mean from experimentation on slaves."
"Progress happens when we're not held back by ethical considerations structuralized in redundant bureaucracy. We'll jump lightyears ahead of everyone else; we'll be the world leaders in every sector. And no one will know how advanced we are. We keep it secret in order to keep our advantage. That's why we'll succeed."
"Disregard of human life—it always backfires eventually. You're akin to the Nazis; in fact—you're just as evil."
"We have inherited some of their efficiency and rejection of moral norms. However, we'll avoid some of their mistakes. One of their mistakes was announcing themselves to the world. It seemed like a strength, but it became a weakness. We work in secret. No one can counteract us because no one knows what our actions are."
"People know who you are now."
"Do they? They see what we want them to see. What we've done out in the world is just a façade, smoke and mirrors."
"You're all over out there. Taking children—interacting with the world."
"That's inevitable. Most of it's done under the cover of darkness; most of it isn't us, but our cells. Cells that don't know we exist."
"You can't possibly expect me to join you."
"I expect defiance. But you're just one man. We've broken many men. No one can resist us."
"You're not all-powerful. Thinking you are blinds you to your faults."
"What faults?" She smirked. "If we have them, we see them long before they do significant damage. That's the advantage of secrecy… of our adaptability. We don't have a rigid structure; it's built to withstand earthquakes."
"All evil empires fall. God won't stand for yours."
"And yet he does. There's evil rampant in the world; he does nothing to stop it. What we do is harness it and use it for good."
"What good?"
"That you will discover in time."
"Nothing good can come from a foundation of suffering."
"Your god suffered horribly, didn't he?"
He nodded.
"There you go then. You believe the most wonderful thing possible came from it."
"God used the evil that men did… but he didn't do any himself. That's a universe of difference."
"We only use what would happen anyway—make it more efficient. And bring wonderful things to the world—like the painkiller."
"Nazi experimentation brought breakthroughs. That doesn't mean we recreate their experiments. You say moral concerns shouldn't exist… but they're the foundation of everything that's good. Good can't come from evil."
"And yet it has. Or—what you call evil. Your God did that."
"You're twisting everything—Besides—you can't compare yourselves to God."
"We're gods on earth." She smiled and sipped her wine, bloodying her lips. "The closest thing to mythical gods."
"God sacrificed his son to erase evil."
"And yet it's still here. His sacrifice seems in vain."
"It's part of his plan. It'll be erased in the end."
"Your apocalypse! I believe we will keep repeating the same mistakes… unless brave vanguards step forth and shed our inhibitions, create a grand new world. That's the paradise you seek."
"That's what you're creating?"
"Yes, in a general way."
"That won't be paradise. God sent his son to die—take away all the sins of the world. You only have to accept that. Turn away from your evil—turn toward him."
Elena laughed. "You think you can bring me to salvation?"
"Anyone can be saved. It's not too late as long as you're alive." He doubted Elena would ever be humble enough to accept it… but it was worth a shot.
"I'll have to keep that in mind." She smiled wryly. "In the meantime… I'll be creating salvation of my own. I am creating eternal life."
"You don't seriously believe you can cheat death."
"Perhaps, perhaps not. Anything is possible if you forge forward with a honed, sharp mind unencumbered by outdated hangups. It's one of my projects."
"Eternal life."
"As eternal as I can get it. If anyone deserves it, I do. At the very least, I'll pave the way for people of the future. That will be a grand legacy, don't you think?"
"How do you intend to do it?"
"Mass experimentation. Use dregs of society… no one will miss them. They'll be doing more good in death than they would have in life. Combination of genetic enhancement and maximizing health… machines… experimental drugs… We'll see what combination comes out on top."
The waiter returned with the appetizers. If possible, he looked more worn down than before. He set the tray of appetizers on the table, speaking mellifluously, using swift elegant movements, but not making eye contact with either of them. Thankfully Elena didn't seem to notice or hold it against him. She probably just saw him as furniture. Better than noticing him as a target…
Elena picked up a cracker topped with escargot and closed her eyes as she slid it in her mouth. "Mm," she said. "Try it."
"I'm not very hungry."
"That's a shame. I bet you are hungry—you'll realize it once you eat."
"Those aren't very appetizing."
"You're missing out if you don't try them."
"So, what other projects are you working on?"
"You can't know everything… but since you're not going to be able to get word to the outside…" She touched her chin with her index finger. "We're really going for a holistic approach… which is a hint to our overall goal."
"You mean taking over the world." He'd been at the front line of that battle before.
"Nothing so simplistic. We want to influence the world… but the world is too unwieldy a goal and not necessarily worthy of us. Mainly… as I said, we want to improve the world's overall situation… at least elevate the parts of it that deserve it, create a bright future for those who want to join. By using the systems that are already available—criminal paths that are lucrative and underground so we can get away with not consulting any legal authorities. They're just a means to an end. I'll fulfill my father's mission—and go further. He wanted to make the world better with communism; communism is too limiting a structure. Virtually no limits is better. Flexibility… with an overall goal… many paths of getting to one place. Experimentation of the best approach and adapting accordingly. We influence the world… while being the secret laboratory that makes a much better world than most lowlifes can possibly imagine. And then we reap the benefits. It's symbiotic. Eventually… perhaps long after I'm dead… the world will march to a glorious future. As long as my successors stick with the program. I'm putting mechanisms in place so my methods will be used on the path to that future."
"Maybe your methods are totally wrong."
"Maybe. But I doubt it. Especially because we're built to adapt."
"It all sounds pretty vague." He wanted to draw out the true purpose… and the details… if possible. Her thinking he couldn't escape was an advantage.
"I don't want to give you the specifics just yet. You'll find out once you're fully one of us. I've actually at least hinted many of our elements that aren't secret; you can piece them together if you think about it. One of the elements concerns you."
"What's that?"
"Psychology. It should go without saying, considering my profession. It's really one of the overarching elements, because nothing can be done without molding the human psyche. This place is a perfect laboratory for it."
"So—that's what the slaves are here for?"
"Partly. We often accomplish more than one goal at once. Slaves are perks for our employees; we also use them to fine-tune our way of molding minds."
"Now that I know it, I can resist it."
"Not really. I'm not telling you my specific approach to you. Even if I did, it wouldn't make much difference; certain methods work on human beings whether they know about them or not. And certain things work for you particularly."
"What are they."
She smiled. "That would be telling. There are two things that'll affect you the most… your family—"
His heart froze. "Don't—don't you dare touch them." His throat was hoarse.
"I'm being merciful not bringing them into this. But if you prove particularly hard to break… I might have to."
"What's the other method."
"If you cooperate, you won't have to find out. Considering our conversation, though, I doubt you will give in or Break anytime soon. And we must accelerate our program. Otherwise, it's a waste of resources."
"You're going to torture me."
"You would expect that. And it might still be on the table. But I don't want to injure you too badly. We have limited options when it comes to future agents. Break their psyche without shattering them… an especially delicate business."
The waiter brought the next course, an elaborate shrimp salad. Jason toyed with it; despite the fact he was practically starving, he didn't feel like eating. The conversation had stolen his appetite.
"There's another dimension to the psychological department that concerns you," said Elena, lifting a forkful of lettuce to her mouth.
"What's that." He was beginning to feel weary of all of this. Even though he was learning things… the fact she was giving them so willingly made it seem like they weren't valuable. And how would they help him escape?
She chewed slowly, then swallowed. "Something we'll weave into your Breaking. No rush; we'll learn it eventually. It's for our long-term plans anyway."
"You mean amina."
She nodded nonchalantly. "It was developed for psychological use, after all. We want to see if it'll not only attain the mind control it promises, but whether it has other applications. Healing minds, for instance. We told Farah that was our ultimate goal, but she still wouldn't help us." She shook her head.
"Good for her."
"Now she's cut off from her family, almost a vegetable. She showed some signs of movement, so I'm holding out… but if she doesn't improve soon, I'll have to give her to Maylin."
"She… was moving?"
Elena nodded. "Just a little. Doesn't necessarily mean much. We'll see."
Jason almost hoped Farah would stay unconscious; waking would mean the torture she'd tried to escape…
But if I can get her out…
Divert attention…
She might not be in any shape to answer questions. So they'll focus on me anyway…
"Maylin is in charge of the psychology department?"
Elena nodded. "The research and development part of it. She's very efficient. Sometimes too rigid… but she's the best of the best, so it's not a significant flaw."
"She doesn't seem like the type to own slaves."
"She has her professional persona, and her off-duty persona. She is so driven and precise, it's not surprising she needs a significant outlet."
"Couldn't she… I don't know… take up gardening?"
Elena laughed. "She could… if she wanted. We have everything here. But she has certain proclivities… that she can indulge fully here."
"All of your people are corrupt, perverse…"
"I don't call needing an outlet perverse."
"You're hurting innocent people. Every human life matters. What you do to people—" He turned away. Wanting to shut all this out. He needed to focus … but just being here was oppressive. He didn't know if he could stand it. But there was nowhere to go.
The slave brought the main course and took away Jason's uneaten salad.
"Please, at least try something," said Elena, sounding a little affronted.
What if it's drugged… any of what they offered could be. But he couldn't avoid food forever… He focused on forcing himself to eat, fortifying himself to ask her more questions.
Elena was lowering her fork to her dish when she yelped and jerked her hand to her stomach. Her fork clattered to her plate.
"He's really kicking! You want to feel?"
He shook his head.
Alarm crossed her face, erasing her normal composure. "He's being… especially active. He was like that a little while before—" She bit her lip, fear striking her eyes.
"When you…almost lost him?"
She nodded. She closed her eyes and began to breathe rhythmically.
He felt a strange swirl of feelings. On one hand—worry for the baby. But also gratification in a way that she was experiencing distress. And concern for her. It was bound up somehow with the loss of his own baby. Empathy for a difficult pregnancy had been hardwired into him apparently…..
"Does it hurt?" he said, part of him chastising himself for feeling concern. "Should we get you to Med?"
She shook her head. "It's just… anxiety. Sending me back to the time I was bleeding so much… I was so scared I'd lose him."
"So you do care about him."
"Of course. The closer we get to his birth… the clearer I can picture him. I think he'll be beautiful—a combination of my and Elliot's best characteristics. And I can't help but be attached to him… we've been through a lot together. So I probably won't be able to part with him." She smiled tensely.
Jason was all the more struck by this spark of humanity because of how evil she was otherwise. Perhaps there was a way to expand it… perhaps he could get to her through the baby. This hardship might be a good thing for her. Shake her pride, show she was only human… connect her to another fragile human being…
Probably a fantasy. She seemed like a typical psychopath— disregard for other people in favor of her own plans. But every human had a spark of hope inside them—possibility…
At least… perhaps he could use her vulnerability. He felt guilty for considering a cold manipulation of someone in distress, but then he realized she could be using her difficult to get to him. Anything was possible where she was concerned.
"You'll keep him as a slave…?" he asked.
"As a son, unless he proves extremely disappointing. I think it'll be nice to have a child around. And now that I'm keeping Elliot…. It will be a nice little family. The child will be a playmate for yours, too. It's not good for children to grow up alone."
"What about Alelu?"
"What about her?"
"She could play with Elliot's son."
"She'll be eleven by the time the boy's four. Too large a gap."
"Lots of families have kids with that age gap. It's nice to have an older sister."
She rubbed her stomach. "He's settling down now…" She breathed a sigh of relief. "Actually… I'm thinking I might let Tamara keep Alelu. So she'll be a cousin of sorts."
"Really?"
"Tamara seems so attached to her… it'd be a shame to take her away."
"That's wonderful!"
"Tamara deserves a reward for her faithful service. Of course, I'll have to be careful she doesn't see keeping Alelu as some kind of claim on me…"
"Why would she do that?"
"Haven't you noticed? Tamara worships the ground I walk on. Which binds her to me with unshakable loyalty. But it's an affection I can never return."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm exclusively attracted to men. Yes… I can use my charm on women if I need to… but that would be unfair to Tamara. I don't have to do anything special; she loves me without hope of being with me. It can be cute… sometimes annoying." She laughed. "Alelu will be a sort of consolation prize. So long as Tamara doesn't see it as creating any sort of familial ties… beyond the fact we're all family here."
"What about Elliot?"
"What about him?"
"Couldn't you set him free? If he's to be an agent… and you have me… you don't really need him."
"But he's satisfying me more than he ever did. It's almost like I have a new slave, of the caliber I expected from him in the beginning. His resistance is helped by the fact that I'm forbidden from him. It also creates this marvelous tension. I'm pregnant with his child—so he's close to me; at the same time, we can only go so far. And he resists… but is drawn to be with his child even more now, after the scare… the ways he shows his fear and deference to me, holdovers from before I discarded him… mixed with the fire inside him that doesn't seem like it'll quench easily—it's a dynamic I didn't know I needed until now."
"Maybe I could provide a more interesting one."
"You'll add another scintillating dimension to this dance. Like the complexity of three heavenly bodies orbiting each other… a push and pull between them…."
"Why can't you just… let us be agents? Torture us into submission?"
"Because I don't want to do without you. Besides, you'll be the fathers to my children." She reached for him.
He stood, shaking.
No.
Never again if I can help it.
I'm not accepting your plans for me.
He strode out of the room; he expected her to call some guards and wrest him into submission. But he reached the hallway without any resistance.
It was only when he reached the elevator that he realized there was also a part of his heart that twisted with guilt for abandoning her… so soon after she'd been in distress… what if it really had been a signal that something was wrong…
He almost turned around, then realized what he was doing and shook off the brief spell, not acknowledging it had been there.