D2-670A
Part Four
Forty-five minutes after their escape, Rene sat in the passenger seat of the
stolen sedan while Shana drove. Both women were dressed in baggy track pants and
sweaters also stolen from Harold Cromb's home. It was the only thing he owned
that did not look ridiculous on them. Shana had been okay with the clothes, but
when it came to the car, Rene'd had to convince her no-one would care about
grand theft auto charges given what they had been through.
Although they'd had no spoken destination in mind as they had powered away from
Harold's house, Shana had quickly revealed that she wanted to find the nearest
police station and report her kidnapping. Rene believed that any Retrieval Team
would head straight for the local law enforcement agencies, figuring that that
was where she, like any other escapee, would take refuge. But Rene was smarter
than that, so she'd had to convince Shana that hiding out in a safe place was
their best option for the moment.
And the only way she'd been able to achieve that, was by telling her fellow
escapee everything.
Considering that she'd spoken of alternative dimensions, portals between them
operated by D-keys, and escaping from a world where women after their eighteenth
birthday were automatically sentenced to a life of literal bondage, Rene thought
that Shana was currently taking the news relatively well.
"Actually, there is somewhere else I want to go," said the young woman. "You'll
love it. It's got a lovely garden, and a swimming pool, and best of all - straps
to tie you down to the bed when you feel the need!"
"Shana," said Rene calmly, "I'm telling you the truth."
"Oh come on! Do you really expect me to believe a word that you're saying?! A
world full of women in bondage, please!"
Rene took a deep breath. "Yes, I do expect you to believe it. Because if you
don't help me, they're going to re-capture me and take me back to my world to be
tortured and executed."
Shana glanced over at Rene and then looked back at the road. "Okay, what if I
believe that you believe."
"Not good enough." Rene palmed the D-key. "Pull over."
Shana frowned in puzzlement, but was evidently in no further mood to argue. She
indicated at the next intersection and turned into a quiet suburban side street.
Rene was out of the car before Shana had even pulled to a complete halt. Without
even shutting the door, she thumbed the D-Key and watched as a red sphere
appeared hovering in the air in front of the idling car. She glanced over to see
Shana staring in astonishment as the portal grew and flattened out into its
proper shape.
"If you still don't believe me," said Rene, "step through and find out what's on
the other side. But you should know, it will be a one-way trip."
Shana did not reply. Her gaze remained fixed on the portal.
Rene pressed the button on the D-key again and waited until the portal had all
but faded away before climbing back into the car. Very slowly, Shana turned
around to face her. "You're for real," she whispered.
"As real as you."
Shana's bit her lip and nodded to herself, as if having made up her mind. She
turned in her seat to again face the road and put the car in gear.
"Where are we going?" asked Rene.
"To a friend's. I know someone you're going to want to meet." Shana swung the
wheel hard and began to turn the car around. "And on the way, maybe you should
tell me more about how your world works."
Rene smiled. It seemed she had made her first convert.
*****
Daphne was not found by the security guard on random patrol until almost half an
hour after the masked woman had left the laboratory. By that point, Daphne's
hands and feet had long since fallen asleep from lack of circulation and her
underwear had felt as if it was sliding down the back of her throat.
It was hardly surprising that her discovery had taken so long, Daphne reflected
as she hugged a blanket about her shoulders and explained the events in the
laboratory to the two uniformed police officers a further thirty minutes later.
The building Dr. Landcom had chosen as the site for her laboratory housed
numerous small business and offices throughout its fourteen floors, and all were
serviced by only a single security guard at any one time. Usually, he relied on
closed-circuit cameras to help him do his job, but as was discovered by the
police upon their arrival, Daphne's assailant had somehow gained access to the
security room and set up a pre-recorded tape depicting a darkened laboratory to
play over the real events.
The laboratory assistant told the officers as much about her masked assailant as
she could, but acknowledged that she was not supplying much information to go
on. When asked about the tapes that had been stolen, Daphne answered
semi-honestly that they were the records of important scientific research into
particle acceleration. She also mentioned the woman's threat that Dr. Landcom
was already being held against her will. The officers replied they would look
into it as soon as possible.
Finally, the questioning was over and a re-dressed Daphne was permitted to go
home. As she left the office building, the officers commended her for remaining
calm in a dangerous situation. Daphne managed a weak "thank you" in reply, but
all she was thinking about was her need for a hot, cleansing shower.
She caught a glimpse of herself as she walked out the reflective sliding doors
and was glad to see she did not look quite as bad as she felt. Her long red-hair
was gathered up and tied back in a bunched pony-tail, displaying her
well-defined facial features for all to see. Dark blue eyes, a thin nose and
high cheekbones sat upon full pink lips and a dimpled chin. In contrast, her
moderately proportioned figure was hidden beneath her buttoned-up woolen jacket,
scarf and dark blue jeans. Her feet were comfortable in her favourite pair of
runners. On any normal work day, she would obviously have dressed a little more
appropriately for an office laboratory, but since Dr. Landcom had been off
tempting investors and Daphne had only stopped by for what was meant to be a
short report-writing session, she had decided that her normal campus clothes
were good enough.
It was cold outside in the car park, even by late autumn's standards. Daphne
glanced down at her watch and noted it was almost 10pm. Her short report writing
session had turned into a four hour ordeal of captivity, release and
questioning.
Shivering, Daphne hurried over to her car, thumbed the auto-unlock button on her
key-ring and climbed inside. It was only after she'd locked the doors again and
started the car that she permitted herself a sigh of relief - which, as it
turned out, was horrendously premature. A fact that Daphne may well have
realized had she noticed the small black box with the intermittently flashing
red light attached to the underside of her car's steering column.
*****
In spite of the late hour, Lois Davenport, the 43 year old CEO of Davidson
Global, looked every inch the powerful figure that she was, dressed in a dark
blue pinstripe suit, starched gray shirt, perfectly knotted silk necktie, dark
pantyhose, and three inch black pumps. Her long light brown hair was drawn back
in a severe bun, and a pair of black-framed spectacles rested on the end of her
nose as she appeared to pour over the paperwork in front of her. But the
powerful woman's thoughts were actually elsewhere, focused on the exciting new
opportunity that was even now on its way up to her thirty-eighth floor office.
She smiled widely, displaying a set of perfectly even white teeth. As CEO of a
major research and development company, life was already very, very good, but
she had a definite feeling that it was about to get even better.
The office intercom chimed. Lois leant forward in her leather chair and pressed
a button. "Yes?"
"We're here," answered a male voice.
"Come right in." Lois pressed a second button and the twin office doors opened
inwards with a low buzz. Quickly, she stood and walked around her huge mahogany
desk to check her appearance in a long mirror. In essence, she was content with
what she saw. Certainly, her figure was no longer quite as thin as it had once
been, and it was now impossible to hide the deeper wrinkles that lined the
corners of her eyes and creased her forehead, but she still carried that certain
sexual appeal that many men found irresistible and most women tried to
replicate. Her dress sense and the power it helped convey had much to do with
that. Lois had long believed it was important to look her absolute best for
every occasion. It was a belief that had helped carry her a long way in her
relatively short life, and she saw no reason why it should not apply now -
despite the unusualness of the situation.
Lois subtly straightened the knot of her midnight blue necktie, and turned away
from the mirror in time to see a casually dressed man with fair-hair slide into
the room.
"Welcome Christian," Lois said quietly, trying to keep the tremor of excitement
out of her voice. "How was your trip?"
"Uneventful," the newcomer replied. "Quiet, in fact."
"So you had no trouble?"
"None at all."
"Excellent. And you have the package with you?" Lois' eyes sparkled in the
purposefully dimmed light of her office.
"Of course. Would you like to see it?"
"Please."
The man slid back out through the office doors, but was back a moment later with
a uniformed security guard. Between the two of them, they wheeled a wooden crate
on a delivery trolley. Lois wasted no time approaching them, as Christian and
his partner levered the top off the crate with an iron bar. Cautiously, she
peered over the rim of the crate to look inside.
A thrill the likes of which Lois had never before experienced coursed through
her at the sight of the severely trussed up woman at the bottom of the crate.
She swallowed and struggled to resist the temptation to lick her lips.
"Welcome back to Davidson Global, Dr. Landcom." Lois said huskily. "We have much
to discuss, and many more ... shall we say ... experiments to run."
*****
