Posted by PK on April 11, 2003 at 11:55:25:
SuEllen was engrossed, despite herself. She had never done anything remotely like this
before. Arcade games, on the street and even on personal computers, she'd seen before:
she'd never considered herself very good at them. This was something else entirely. The
technology of virtual reality was beyond her comprehension, it might as well have been
magic according to Clarke's definition, of which she was of course unaware. Holographic
visual projection, tactile feedback, cybernetic learning systems, neural nets: so many
incantations in ancient Sumerian. All she knew was that the game seemed to teach her how
to play it. She was Lara Croft, Red Sonja, Luke Skywalker and Indiana Jones rolled into one.
Her swordstick flickered in her hand like a rapier in the hands of a master, she dispatched
lesser monsters with ease. She had learned spells she hoped would help her against the
greater perils ahead. There was no thought in her head of the money she had come here to
win, she was barely conscious of where she was in the real world and even less of her
physical nudity. Her scanty outfit and weapons harness sufficed her here, she had greater
prizes to achieve.
Cornelia wanted to pee, but it wasn't urgent yet. She wanted a cigarette and a drink. She
wanted out of here: to be back in her ratty little hovel with a joint and something warm and
unhealthy to eat watching some comfortably stupid shit on the third-hand TV she had
inherited from the last occupant. Why the fuck was Su still playing? She should have wiped
out by now. She peered around the room for the hidden cameras she was sure were there.
She watched Su's twitching body with mixed feelings of anxiety, concern and impatience.
She wanted to shake her out of it.
She felt left out.
"What the fuck is the silly bitch DOING in there?" she muttered to herself.
SuEllen the warrior stepped over the corpse of another slain foe and confronted her arch-
enemy.
"You want the blonde? I suppose that could be arranged."
It was Hiram's turn for an ironic reply to a straight line. "Heaven forfend! Don't tell me you
can rig the table?"
"My secret is out." John frowned. "It mustn't pass beyond these walls."
"Over my dead body," Hiram said.
"What part would you like?"
"What else? Filet de jeune fille. For breakfast. I hope you have a guest room, otherwise I'll
need a telephone to order a hansom cab. I'm afraid your excellent hospitality has rendered
me incapable of navigation."
"My dear fellow, of course you may stay the night. Consider yourself my guest. As to the
other matter...." John paused. "...I don't wish to be a niggardly host, you're welcome to
breakfast of course, but that..ah..particular dish..."
"Is an expensive delicacy, and after all we are both professionals." Hiram smiled, disposing
of his host's discomfiture in being forced to hint at monetary concerns. "Have no concern on
that account, I expect a tour de force from your chef and I shall insist on paying in full for it!"
"I'm afraid it might stretch your expense account," John said bluntly.
"Not in the least. I intend to treat myself; and as the indulgence is mine, I will settle the bill of
fare personally."
"And your review will, I trust, be favourable?"
"Sir, I am a man of integrity. My review will be based on this evening's meal, my assessment
of which was already more than favourable. My discretion is, I hope, beyond question. This is
a purely personal favour. I will consider myself in your debt."
This was going to be a tough one, SuEllen realised. Her opponent's weapon matched her
own magic sword and his movements were deft. The small fraction of her consciousness still
anchored in reality told her that she had gone in over her head, and that this might be where
she wiped out. She thrust the thought aside and fought on. She could not let this minion of
the Dark Lord stop her. Her heart pounded, she could feel her skin prickling with sweat. With
her left hand she gestured as she cast a spell.
Cornelia heard Su muttering something. She seemed to be having a fit.
"The problem is, I may have to dispose of the other one too," John said. "Pity, really. She's
been a really useful Judas goat. And so soon after I dispensed with Honey's services. Still,
it's probably for the best, I suspect she's beginning to suspect, so to speak. Which means she
is becoming a liability. Probably for the best that she goes..."
SuEllen was on her last legs. The Slave of Darkness had shrugged off her spell. His own
enchantments were fogging her vision, she was ensorcelled, staring defeat in the face.
Knowing in her heart that she couldn't win, she fought on until his ebon blade cut her in two,
split her from crotch to sternum. Over her fading vision, she could see a flashing sign saying
"GAME OVER"
Game over, Cornelia realised as the floor beneath her feet gave way. As she fell, her first
thought was: 'I should have known." A split second later, she thought: "I always knew". And
she had.. It's amazing how you can dance around an idea without really looking at it.
Cornelia had heard rumours of what happened to the people who disappeared but had
chosen not to think about it. Lines from horror stories and cheap flicks ran through her mind:-
"There are some things Man is not meant to know." (What about Woman? her pop-feminist
self, programmed in early childhood and since forgotten, said.) Her mind chattered on
incoherently as she slid, helter-skelter, down a chute in darkness. They wanted her for a porn
film. Not snuff, please. They were going to sell her to a brothel in South America. Whoopee,
she was going to find out what happened to the ones who don't come back. She would
investigate, Lois Lane and Nancy Drew in one. She would write a prize-winning expose, she
would be a celebrity....
"Oh, capital!" Hiram applauded, chuckling. "Did you see the look on her face as she fell?
Priceless! Do you know, I think I'll have her. I was in two minds about it, but now I think I'd
enjoy seeing her filet on my breakfast table. Very rare, in a delicate sauce. "
John paused with his finger on a remote control. "You would prefer to eat the Latina? Not the
blonde?"
"Would I?" Hiram mused for a moment. A long, dope and beer moment, as his mind explored
all of the possibilities in that tireless and timeless fashioned known only to the truly stoned. It
was a dilettante's excercise, a last savouring of the moment of choice; in fact his mind was
already made up and he finally admitted it to himself. The image of the dark-haired, olive-
skinned girl's falling body, all flailing limbs as she strove to save herself, was imprinted on
his mind's eye: he had to have her. "Yes, I do believe I would. What sauce, do you think?
Lemon butter?" He frowned. "Interesting but not quite...right. Hmmm. It's on the tip of my
tongue..."
John's finger hovered over the control that would kill the blonde girl. This sudden decision of
Hiram's had caught him by surprise. Having resigned himself to losing the Hispanic girl as an
unwitting agent, he'd rather fancied the idea of tasting her plump little pussy himself. For
breakfast, perhaps, or maybe after sampling it raw while she lived a little longer. Now that
she'd been spoken for, it was difficult to divest himself of the expectation. He could have the
blonde for breakfast with Hiram, but she wasn't so much his type. Still, worth eating...
Cornelia came to rest on a cold surface in a dimly lit room, sprawled on her back. Two men
stood to either side of her.
"Whoah, juicy one!" one of them said.
"Yeah, right. Wish the old bastard'd give us a bit more notice. What're we s'posed to do with
this chicken?"
Cornelia tried to get up, she pulled her knees together and raised herself on her elbows. The
first man grabbed her shoulder with casually brutal strength and pushed her back down.
"Take it easy, honey," he said. "We'll get you squared away any minute." He turned to the
other man. "Boss flagged her for prep and holding. On the monitor, code three. Read the
manual somtime.Somebody wants her fresh." He turned back to Cornelia, smiling. "Okay,
honey, we're gonna shave you and wash you, then we put you in the pen. Nice and warm in
there, you get your own little cot. Now, we can do this easy or hard. Do I hafta get rough or
are you gonna be a good girl?"
And then there was the other matter, John realised. Two other matters, actually. He had a
business to run, it would be more profitable to let the blonde go than indulge himself. And
there was the matter of the sauce. Lemon butter for the Latina? It just wasn't right. A
whimsical thought occurred to him: tomato sauce with parmesan. Heaven forfend that
anyone, even God himself, heard that thought. He shook himself. Something slightly earthy
but not heavy, something powerfully subtle. Could it be possible?
Cornelia submitted to having her body shaved, there was nothing else to do. Her legs,
forearms, underarms and pubis were cleanly depilated and she was firmly invited to shower.
Shivering, she was led to a small cell.
"You get some sleep, now," the first man told her kindly.
Inspiration came upon John. "Truffles," he said. Uncertainly at first and then gaining
confidence. "Earthy but delicate. The noblest of fungi."
"Filet in a mushroom sauce?" To refer to a truffle as a mushroom was a rough and rather
risque jest but Hiram ventured it anyway.
John allowed the witticism a wry smile. "Creamed, with herbs? If you haven't had it..."
The two friends sparred amicably enough on the details.
Cornelia curled into a foetal position on the bed. The mattress was hard and the blanket was
thin, but she wasn't physically cold. She felt naked in mind, body and soul and there was
nothing left to hold on to. She knew, however she fought against the new knowledge.
SuEllen pushed the visor off with an exclamation. "Whoo! That was amazing! I
never...Cornelia?" She peeled herself out of the chair. "Corny?" There was no sign of her
friend anywhere. I guess she got bored and left, she thought. Can't blame her, Lord knows
how long I was in there. In there? The game had seemed like a whole different world. The
dispenser on the wall was flashing a message in red light, telling her to press the button and
collect her prize. She did so and received a modest sum of money. Well, they'd be eating
okay for a while, anyway. The text display changed, requesting her to leave the playing area
for another customer. With a last look around, she left the room and found her way back to
the locker room by the entrance. Sure enough, her clothes were still there. She dressed
without haste, her mind still half in the fantasy world. The phrase 'willing suspension of
disbelief' was unknown to her, but she had experienced the thing itself; to her mind it was like
being inside a movie, going through the screen and becoming the hero. She was barely
aware of the dark streets around her as she made her way home. Cornelia wasn't there
either. SuEllen figured she'd found a party of her own, it wouldn't be the first time. She made
herself something to eat, watched TV for a while and went to bed.
"I'll leave myself in your more than capable hands," Hiram conceded, smiling. "Filet de jeune
fille with...truffles? It's an intriguing concept. I do believe it might work. Of course, the filet
must be very delicately cooked and very fresh..."
"Have no worries on that account, it's all arranged. I do believe that you'll find my Chef equal
to the challenge."
Hiram fell asleep in the four-poster bed as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Cornelia tried to sleep and failed. She peed in the bucket provided and paced around for a
while, her mind racing, going over the facts again and again, trying vainly to find some other
interpretation of them. Juicy one! Somebody wants her fresh. And the shaving. Just
paranoia, she told herself. Somebody wants me for sex, that's all. I'm going to be a rich guy's
sex slave. I'm going to be sold to some Arab oil millionaire and I'll live in a harem. Could be
worse.
SuEllen woke in the early hours from a really odd dream. Her quest had taken her into one of
those infinitely confusing labyrinths but she had fought her way past all the monsters to
find...what? She couldn't remember what she had been questing for. Here she was in the
locker room again looking for...
Her clothes, of course. She had been looking for her clothes. And Cornelia. Or Cornelia's
clothes. Something like that. But she was naked again, because she was home in bed. So
that was all right. Rationality reasserted itself as she woke more fully. Cornelia would be
wearing her own clothes. They weren't in the locker room. Were they? Could she have left
without them? She realised she hadn't checked the locker to see if they were still there. Why
would she?
I'm dead meat, Cornelia thought. This is a livestock pen. The stories on the street were all
true. Some guy is picking up runaways and serving them in some fancy restaurant.
Tomorrow, I'll be on the table, catch of the day, get her while she's hot. Oh fuck, that
BASTARD in the White House. Free trade, my ass. All those restrictions on imports and now
they're bootlegging and it's ME on the menu because of it. She wanted to beat her fists
against the wall but the first time she tried it, it hurt too much. So instead, she curled up on
the cot again and stroked herself. Eventually, she masturbated herself into exhaustion.
When they came for her, she didn't even bother to struggle.
John sipped a glass of Perrier as accompaniment to a frugal breakfast of yoghurt, croissants
and a fruit salad. He awaited his guest's appraisal of his own repast.
"I'm searching for a word," Hiram said at last. "Words, it seems, have finally failed me.
Sublime? A cliche. Exquisite is apt but inadequate. I might have picked the fruit of Olympus
itself.."
"Venus on the half shell?"
Hiram let the faux pas pass. He was transported. "..or devoured the loins of Aphrodite alive."
As the less pricey remains of Aphrodite were being chopped up into neat cuts of saleable
girlmeat, SuEllen woke again. One thought remained from her fantasies and nightmares.
Cornelia was lost, she had to find her.
FIN