Time is On Her Side Pt. 05

Horatia woke up in a brightly lit room reminiscent of an old 20th century mansion with a headache the size of the world. The left side of her face appeared swollen and bruised, a spiralling cut above the cheek, two purple welts below. Specks of dried blood conspurcated her favorite footwear. She half-expected to be naked or wearing a foreign outfit, something revealing and demeaning, yet both expectations fell to the ground.

She had a hard time looking ahead. After being exposed to the artificial displays of the underground Center for so long, it took a while for her deep amber eyes to adjust to what appeared to be raw, unfiltered sunlight, making her skin warm and fuzzy to the touch. It was a nice feeling although an impossible one. She couldn't have been taken to a place outside the Skylight Dome, could she?

She was alone in this room which, upon closer inspection, proved to be a king-sized bedroom. There were cream satin sheets on the cedar bed, three closets on the upper-left and lower-right corners, a beautiful nightstand where a first print edition of another of H. G. Wells' classics - The War of the Worlds - laid open, a mirror to the right, and a pathway that extended from behind the bed into a large balcony.

She headed there first, her steps insecure and not just because of the brightness. The concussion effects were still present even if the aching pain from before had already subsided. Leaning against the balcony, she saw a vast ocean stretching underneath and heard the faint hum of an engine.

"Is this a ship?" she thought. There were white clouds sweeping the sky, and a puff of spray in the crystalline water. It erupted into a geyser as a hunchback whale rose to the surface, shattering the magnificent illusion.

Much like cows, there were no whales left alive in her world. Horatia inched just a bit forward and peered into a small crevice to the left where the luminous beams of two projectors lined up to create the never ending depth of three-dimensional space. It was yet another hologram though far more sophisticate and accurate than anything else she had seen in her life. The balcony became less solid despite still looking like one. She followed the metallic railing with her fingers until they hit an invisible wall. The beautiful landscape of an untainted world continued to spread beyond the counterfeit horizon, and she sighed.

"Not a ship, but a prison," she muttered. Horatia looked back, questioning the validity of every aspect of her surroundings. She touched the furniture one by one. It was real. The nightstand smelled of musk. Alex had told her once that's what her pussy reminded him of on a normal day. She would have him worship it again the moment her ordeal was over.

There was a whirr and the wooden-like main door of the chamber she was in slid to the right. An orb of darkness clouded the light in the bedroom and floated towards her. The door closed behind it as she noticed she was looking at a man in a black and a silver wheelchair, his features shrouded by yet another fancy piece of technology.

"Not a prison," he said, with the same unnatural voice she had heard earlier. "Simple quarters with your comfort in mind."

"Right... Do you take every woman you've just met to simple quarters such as these?" Horatia retorted, trying to see beyond the projected veil. It was like peering into a living eclipse. The blackness undulated at steady intervals, but never phased out long enough for her to unearth the new threat before her. At one point, she saw a stitched outline of a reddish lip and a solitary ear, but nothing more.

"I prefer to keep my women disciplined although I'm aware that doesn't work for you," Mr. D remarked.

"You got that right. Nice chair. I guess besides Dick, D stands for disabled, too," she scorned.

"Always the jokester, and a proud one, too. Your family never ceases to amaze."

Horatia sat on the bed and crossed her shapely legs. She would not let his provocation slip by but first, an innuendo of her own, too.

"You continue to hide behind machines which makes me think you're one ugly son of a bitch. Am I right or am I right?"

Mr. D rolled the chair to a perpendicular angle to where she sat and pressed a button. The field of darkness receded, yet became denser. Now it was as if he was wearing a giant opaque fish bowl on his head, yet the ridiculousness of it all didn't affect his confidence.

"I take it you have guns pointed at me right now otherwise you wouldn't dare to be this close," she said.

"Your guess is correct."

Horatia's eyes prowled the walls, the floor beneath her feet and even the ceiling, unable to detect anything suspicious hiding in plain sight. It was safe to assume there were other projectors somewhere in the room though, and the facade could come undone at any moment.

"The thing is I don't like talking to shadowy figures any more than I like talking to flying butt-plugs so why don't you turn off that cloaking device you've got going on there and tell me what's this is all about?"

"Jokester, impatient and impertinent, quite the combination, I'll give you that!" He crowed.

"I'm an impressive woman."

"Yes, you are but not for the right reasons, I'm afraid."

"You're sounding a lot like old Lazendorf. I guess you Super Patriarchy puppets are all the same. By the way, how is he doing?"

"You'll be pleased to know he's recovering from what you did to him and should be back to his normal self in no time." Mr. D mocked.

"That's too bad. He was a lot more agreeable when he was under. Not to worry though. He'll be a lot easier to dominate the second time around."

"There won't be a second time for you," Mr. D said, the discordant abrasion of his voice becoming more pronounced.

"I was waiting to see when the real threats would begin. It didn't take long."

"Happy to oblige," the Super Patriarchy representative continued to mock, perhaps enjoying the banter a lot more than he should.

Horatia, on the other hand, didn't even try to suppress a yawn. D also stood for dull in her book. She jumped from the bed, and dashed towards the wheelchair to inspect her captor.

"Not another step," he commanded, an order she was quick to ignore.

"Not scared because if you wanted me dead you would have done it already. Show yourself."

"I don't take orders from a woman!"

"And I don't like it when men try to tell me what to do either," Horatia spat. She continued creeping forward yet the distance between them remained the same. An invisible barrier warped a small pocket of reality around the wheelchair. Horatia stopped, allowed for the ripples of energy to tickle her fingers and laughed. "So many gadgets, so many tricks. What kind of man needs all of this to maintain a sense of safety?"

"Are you done, Horatia?"

"On the contrary. I'm only just beginning."

Mr. D touched an engraved panel above the chair's right wheel. The barrier's consistency increased, pushing the young hypnotist back. More than a tickle, an electric jolt coursed through her body. Static energy crept through her clothes.

"I hope that hurt."

Horatia blew a strand of hair from her face. "Okay, let's cut to the chase. Tell me what you want, asshole."

"A little gratitude for starters would be nice, petulant child."

"Gratitude for what?!" She lashed out, hurling an angry fist against the force field. It bounced back, electrically charged once again. The small, almost invisible hairs on her arms became erect.

"You're right when you say I don't want you dead. I never did. However, others in the hierarchy don't think the same way."

"Oh, I see where this is going. You will now try to convince you're a good guy at heart, is that it?"

"I will not try to convince you of anything, just saying things as they are. It is the Super Patriarchy way to deal swiftly with those that might pose a threat to our ideals. You are an honorable exception just like your mother was before you. Consider yourself lucky that is so."

Horatia leaned against the nightstand, hands interlocked below her breasts. "Even if that's true, to what do I owe this 'honor'?"

Despite the machinery that shielded him, she could tell D was looking straight at her. "Your particular skills are fascinating," he replied. "What's even more fascinating is how they seem to develop naturally. This is something we've been observing for ages now. Not only that, but your bloodline has proven resistant to our previous tampering attempts. It seems you're uncontrollable, and while that's enough proof to convince others of the need to eradicate your family, I see things differently. Powerful you may be, but we're millions so why dispose of you when we can learn so much from one another? The truth is we want the same thing, Horatia."

"Excuse me?" Her jaw dropped.

"I'm talking about power. You dream of changing the status quo, getting rid of ideals of male dominance once and for all but to what end? What do you hope to gain from it? Not equality because you believe women to be superior to men so you want a Matriarchy, you yearn for supreme feminine rule just like those fools three centuries ago. You want absolute power."

"That's not true."

"It's not?"

"I don't want power. I already have it. Others have it too, but they don't know it yet. Your way doesn't work, it's time to fade away."

"And what makes you so sure yours will work? Let's assume that by some impossible chance, our society crumbled and your ideals rose? How long do you think it would take for them to become a replica of ours? You love power, I'm sure others would love for a chance to wield it, too. A female-led society would be as unjust as what you have right now!"

"Lies!"

"Not lies, the truth you don't want to admit. Your boyfriend may have submissive tendencies which is why it is so easy for you to manipulate him the way you do but he's a rare breed. Most men don't want to live under the rule of women."

"That's because you condition everyone. Alex isn't the only submissive in the world. There are many others that would join the cause if given the chance to do so."

"Join the cause willingly, you say?"

"Yes."

"Was what you did to Lazendorf something he wanted and asked you to do? Was he your willing hypnoslave?"

"No, but he had it coming." Horatia dismissed him.

"Did he now?"

"Yes, for what he did to Lana, for all the times he tried to force himself on me, for being a thorn in my mother's life."

"So your solution to those that wrong you or do something you don't like is to use your hypnotic skills to turn them into your puppets? Ironic, isn't it? You do the same thing we do although on a smaller scale. If you had all the power in the world, you would be quite the dictatress, Horatia."

"It's not the same."

"Don't try to defend your actions," Mr. D insisted "It is the same! Power is always the same no matter who wields it. Power and Lust go hand in hand. We don't want to give up either. Why would we when it's so intoxicating? Have you ever relinquished control to Alex?"

"No," she admitted.

"And you never will, right? You say you love him and yet you never surrender control. He begged you not to come and yet you did. Your mother begged you not do something like this and yet you did. You only do what you want to do when you want to do it. You're already consumed by your lust of Power, Horatia, and that's why you'll never win. How can you hope to defeat your enemies when you're just like them and use similar means to attain similar goals?

Her consciousness entered red alert. "How did you know Alex begged me not to come?"

"Isn't it obvious? We've been monitoring everything seeing you're a person of interest. We've been watching every little thing you do ever since the first time you hypnotized Alex. Your growth has been fascinating to watch and so has your hunger for power. While others wanted you dead, I saw something brewing. I saw an opportunity. We don't have to be enemies. Come work for us, or rather, come work for me."

"Now who's being the jokester?"

"It's no joke. Unlike what you believe in, not all women that serve the Super Patriarchy do so under duress. We don't condition everyone. Some do it of their own volition because they came to realize it's the best course of action. Let me introduce you to one. Karla, you may come inside now."

The bedroom main door opened and a six feet four Amazon walked in. She had shoulder-length blonde hair with purple highlights around the ears, and dark piercing eyes, lively and aware. Her outfit was a darker, customized version of the proud uniforms wore by her male guard counterparts. Horatia saw a holstered ray gun, another cattle prod-like device around her waist and three different length knives strapped to her tight pants. This was a woman that lived for close quarters combat, a warrior, and worse, a mercenary.

"I'm here as instructed, Sir," she said, with a thick accent Horatia couldn't recognize.

"Karla, meet Horatia Ryder. I hope you two come to be close friends in the times ahead."

"Don't count on it, you disabled prick!"

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Horatia," Karla extended her right hand for a shake. "Although I feel like I already do for quite some time now."

"I'm sure you do," Horatia ignored her cordial attempt of communication as she leaned against the projected balcony once again. "I bet you all think you know me because you've been keeping tabs on me my whole life!"

Karla didn't react to the outburst instead resuming her prepared speech. If she wasn't conditioned to act that way, her impression of a brainwashed servant was top notch.

"To be able to be of service to the Super Patriarchy is the highest honor ever given to me. Mr. D - Sir - acknowledged my skills and gave me a purpose."

"And what purpose is that?"

"When needed be, I hunt down those that oppose us and make them pay," Karla smirked.

"So you're an executioner on command?"

"I prefer the term 'keeper of the peace', Horatia," Karla said, right hand fiddling with one of her knives. She touched the sharp end of the blade, gave it a spin and juggled it above her head. The weapon described a half-circle before swooping down fast. She took one step to the right and gracefully caught it by the handle mid-flight.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

"For doing my job? I'm proud of it, in fact. Everything I know how to do would have been lost if they had converted me like the rest, but Mr. D believes that those with special skills should exercise them at every chance. I do it for them, I get paid big, and live a happy, prosperous life. It's a simple equation, so why complicate what's simple?"

"And you're able to sleep at night, knowing you're perpetuating a corrupt system by being its enforcer?"

"It's just a job. You should accept his offer like I did."

"Or what?"

"You already know the answer to that question," Karla showed her the knife again.

"Stay away from my family, bitch!"

"Your family's fate lies in your hands, Horatia," Mr. D said. "Agree to work for me, put your skills to the benefit of the Super Patriarchy and no harm will come to the ones you love. You may even discover new ways to enjoy your lust for power."

"I will not hunt down and brainwash dissidents for you or anyone else, D, and if you believed otherwise for just a second, then it's obvious you don't know me as you think you do."

"You don't want to go down that path..." Karla gnarled.

"You know, I don't turn women into my puppets but I'm willing to make an exception for you," Horatia retorted.

"Ladies, this is not the time and place for such behaviors," Mr. D intervened. He too was getting bored. "I will be cordial and give you some time to think things properly, Horatia. I'll be back in an hour to hear your final decision."

Mr. D and Hannah left the room under the watchful eye of the furious hypnotist. The moment the door was closed on her, Horatia's unruly temper came out to play. The nightstand was the first to go, propelled against the nearest closet.

"Okay, Horatia, think," she muttered. It was obvious she was being watched but from where? She examined the walls, heard a metallic clang echoing in each one. The stench of what passed on as an attractive deodorant slipped under the door. The buzzing of a butterfly sentry was also present. "This must still be part of the Center but I need to know where I am."

Heading towards the fabricated balcony, she reached for the intersecting point of the two projectors. If she could disable the holographic representations, and assuming her mental map didn't fail her, perhaps she could determine where in the facilities she was being held. Her arm wasn't long enough to grab them so she doubled back and opened the closets one by one, hoping to find something of note. They were all empty, showing no signs of ever being used. The two drawers on the fallen nightstand shared the same fate.

"Nothing under the bed either," she peeked. "Shit!"

She sat on it once again, eyes cast on the sanguine stains adorning her feet. The vintage footwear was ruined yet it was not the time for broken vanity. Mr. D didn't scare her but Karla... something about her posture and demeanor made her shiver. A free-willed enemy was more dangerous because of its unpredictability and even though she received orders from the wheel-chaired man, there were no assurances she wouldn't disobey them at whim either. If her family suffered because of her rash decisions...

"Keep it together, R.," she mumbled although easier said than done. "There has to be a way to disable those projectors. You need to... ah!"

The lamp on the ceiling smiled at her. Horatia tiptoed onto the bed and jumped, grabbing the circular disc with both hands. It held her weight for only a few seconds before crashing down. She grabbed the wire protruding from the lamp, ran towards the balcony and threw it like a whip. One projector spun backwards, compromising the integrity of the sophisticated optical illusion. The blue seas below turned into a laser-like grid suspended over dark concrete. Geometry became a confusing mess as the other projector fell, irradiating still frames of the former landscape in every direction. Water poured from above her as not one, but two massive whales swam away. Horatia grabbed both projectors and smashed them together.

She could now see the room for what it was, a cage-like structure on the lowest level of the Center. There were two others to the left and another to the right, almost as if hovering over nothingness. There were no visible connecting modules, no retractable passages of any kind, so how had D and Karla moved about? An elevator or another vehicle-based means of transportation had to be available but she couldn't see them anywhere. Horatia kicked the door twice and flipped the invisible cameras recording her. She was trapped, at least until the deadline passed.

Horatia had already tried everything at her disposal, so she sat down and grabbed the lonesome book. Wells had a way with words that was always inspiring and, by fortuitous chance, the first page she read contained a passage that reflected the mood she wouldn't dare reveal to anyone but her own thoughts.

"Suddenly, like a thing falling upon me from without, came fear."