Authors: Thomas DePrima
"You mean that I might live to be 3,500 years old?"
"You received the procedure at a much younger age than me. Doctor Willetti tells me that the computer model predicts
you'll
live to be at least five-thousand-years-old."
Jenetta smirked. "And live for four-thousand-eight-hundred-years as a wrinkled prune? I think I'd rather die when God intended."
"No, not a prune, Angel. In fact, the doctors say that we won't show
any
sign of aging until the last few years, and then it will be incredibly rapid."
Jenetta's face mirrored the shock that she was beginning to feel as she started to believe that Arneu was in complete earnest. "You're serious? You're saying that I'm going to have a greatly extended life? And that I'm always going to look like I'm twenty-one?"
"Except for the last few years, yes." Arneu smiled. "Now you can see why you're so valuable to us. You'll be making money for us for hundreds, maybe thousands, of years. And people will be falling over themselves to be with you once the transformation is complete."
"What transformation?"
"I just told you, Angel. Pay attention. Your DNA is also being rewritten."
"I heard that part. But why would people be falling over themselves to be with
me
? I don't labor under any delusion that I look like a goddess."
"But you will!" Arneu's smile changed into an expression of delight that covered his entire face. "You're being transformed into exactly that, a
goddess
. You're attractive now, but as you've said, you
aren't
a goddess. However, by the time the changes are complete, you'll have grown another six inches, or maybe a little more, and your body will have men salivating when they just
imagine
touching it. In fact, your body will be nearly perfect, and your metabolism will be programmed to maintain it like that. In a few years, even your own mother may not recognize you.
"As part of our reconfigurations, we'll have incredible healing powers. Our bodies will repair themselves ten times faster than ordinary humans, without requiring surgical nano-bots, and you'll be able to drink any ordinary man under the table and never even feel the effects. That's important at a resort, where liquor sells for a hundred times normal retail and part of your job is to get the customers to buy you drinks."
Jenetta's anger, largely held in check until now, finally began to erupt as she said, "I won't do it! I'm not a slave, and I won't do it!"
"You don't have any say in the matter, Angel. If you look down at your identification number, you'll see that the first two letters are ‘PS'. They stand for ‘Pleasure
Slave
.' For the past three days, you've been undergoing radical psychotherapy. You don't realize it yet, but much of what you'll need to know for your
new
profession is already implanted in your mind."
The news that she was being brainwashed in preparation for becoming a whore was more than Jenetta could stand. She could restrain her temper no longer. "You bastard! You no good, lousy, murdering, pimp! You're a…"
Her words turned to a scream as Arneu stepped behind her and viciously yanked her head back by pulling on her hair with his right hand. Ramming a gag into her mouth, he pulled the connecting band over her head so she couldn't push it out with her tongue. His now free hand reached quickly into his pocket and produced a controller that he used to solidify the band. Jenetta tried to scream a profanity but only a muffled gurgle broke the silence of the room.
"There now, that's better, isn't it?" he said calmly. "I haven't finished telling you about your new life, and you really should know better than to interrupt. Your therapy will take care of that, and you'll learn your proper place. The final step will be to wipe out all your old memories. You won't be able to read or write, but you'll know every trick ever learned about pleasuring men— and women."
Jenetta glared at him as he strutted around her in the cell with his hands clasped behind his back.
"You know, I toyed with the idea of trying to recruit you to our side when we captured you. As soon as I saw your altered uniform, I realized immediately that you were the one responsible for our two recent defeats. And it takes a lot of guts to enter an enemy camp in an unarmed space tug. So I called my doctors in to find out how we should proceed, but they said that they couldn't ensure your loyalty without destroying the very abilities that make you worth converting in the first place. It's a pity because we would have made a hell of a team, Angel. My work here should give me the boost I need to make it onto the Lower Council; then it's just a matter of time before I rise to the Upper Council; and then eventually to the Chairmanship of the company." Arneu laughed as he said, "If nothing else, I'll simply outlive all the other council members." Turning serious again, he added, "With you at my right arm, we would have ruled the galaxy for eons."
Arneu stopped directly in front of Jenetta with his face just centimeters from hers as he stared down into her eyes. "A pity. It would have been so much more satisfying a life for you. Now, instead of wielding more power than you can imagine, you'll spend your days and nights getting hot and sweaty between the sheets with people that you probably wouldn't have given a second glance before." Arneu grinned again. "It's not going to be all bad, though. The doctors tell me that they'll be implanting thoughts in your mind to ensure you'll really enjoy yourself. It's important that you enjoy your life if you're to spend the rest of your days satisfying other people, with absolutely no conscious thought for yourself."
Arneu bent slightly more and kissed Jenetta gently on the forehead. His face was barely ten centimeters from hers as he said softly, "Good-bye, Angel. The next time we meet, you won't know me. Enjoy immortality as a mindless, hotel whore."
Arneu moved to give her forehead a parting kiss, but she pulled away. He thought that she was just trying to distance herself from him and grinned malevolently, but then, without the slightest regard for damage to herself, she brought her head forward as hard and fast as she could. The move caught Arneu totally unaware, with his head where hers had been until she pulled back. He was so unprepared for any sort of attack that he never moved until her forehead connected solidly with the bridge of his nose. Jenetta heard the crack of cartilage and bone, immediately saw bright flashes of light, and felt extreme pain. She wondered if she had cracked her own skull on his. Arneu, meanwhile, was falling backwards to the floor, screaming in agony, his hands going to his face where blood was already gushing from a mutilated nose.
Simultaneously screaming and groaning in great pain, Arneu rocked from side to side for minutes before finally calming himself enough to sit up. Jenetta looked on dispassionately. She would have grinned if the gag hadn't prevented it. Arneu had, after all, admitted to being responsible for the slave imprint on her chest.
Clumsily fumbling for a handkerchief in the side pocket of his coat, Arneu yanked out it and held it against his face for several minutes before attempting to stagger to his feet. His face was a contorted mask of pain and suffering as he approached Jenetta, blood dripping onto a white shirt already heavily tainted crimson. When he balled his right fist and cocked his arm to punch her, Jenetta closed her eyes and braced herself for an impact— that never came. After a few seconds, she opened one eye, then the other. Arneu was still standing in front of her, although out of head butt range.
"No, I'm not going to strike you, Angel," he mumbled through the pain that continued to wash over him in waves. "Maybe I even had this coming for the life that I've sentenced you to. One of these days I'll look you up at the resort. You won't know me, of course, but you'll pretend that you love me like no other. I'll laugh so hard that you'll wonder what I could possibly find so amusing, and that'll make me laugh all the more. Goodbye, Angel."
Arneu turned and wobbled drunkenly out of the cell, leaving the door open and unlocked. But Jenetta couldn't take advantage of it with her wrists and ankles still secured. A few minutes later Rosewood came in and removed the gag, never taking his eyes off Jenetta for a second, and never getting closer than necessary.
"You are one crazy bitch to head butt the commandant of the station. He could have you killed in an instant and no one would question it. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes for all the gold in the freaking universe."
Rosewood backed out of the cell without removing his eyes from Jenetta's hate-filled face. He locked the door, then opened the viewing slot to release her. The first thing she did was rub her forehead where it had come into contact with Arneu's skull. As her rage slowly subsided, waves of depression replaced it. She thought about the many things that Arneu had said as she made her way over to her cot. An extended life as a mindless nymph in a pleasure resort was about as far from the future she'd planned as could be. Her head drooped as she sat down, and she stared silently at the floor. But in the depths of her despair, she became aware that something wasn't right in the cell; something seemed out of place. Spotting an unknown object on the floor near where Arneu had fallen, Jenetta hurried over to pick it up. Unlike the blue controllers carried by the guards, this one was black. She knew it must be Arneu's, having fallen from his pocket when he'd yanked out his handkerchief. It had wound up against the wall, having been pushed there when the door was opened wide.
Jenetta immediately realized the significance of her find and that it wouldn't be long before Arneu realized he'd dropped it. She also knew they'd come to her cell first. She looked around for some place to hide it but the cell was so austere that it provided no place where it might be concealed. She might secret it in the thin mattress, if she could cut the material somehow, but she didn't have anything sharp enough. In desperation bordering on panic, she began searching every corner of the room for anything that she could use to rip the fabric. She even felt up under the wall mounted stainless steel toilet, but all the surfaces were filed smooth. She knew that she couldn't hide the controller in the bowl because the water would destroy the electronics. She was still sitting on the floor next to the commode when she had an inspiration. She took the controller and wedged it up underneath the back of the toilet, between the curvature of the bowl and the wall. The fit was tight and perfect. She tested it by getting up and jumping on the toilet. The controller stayed in place.
Suddenly things weren't quite as bad as they had seemed just minutes ago. Possession of the controller offered a glimmer of hope for escape. Jenetta lay down on her cot and immediately began formulating a plan. Arneu had said that she would be almost immortal. Well, she could live with that, if it was true. He'd also said that she would eventually be five-foot ten-inches tall, or maybe a little more. That wasn't so bad either. She'd always wanted to be a little taller. Her brothers were all over six-foot tall, like her father, while she had definitely taken after her five-foot one-inch tall mother. Looking twenty-one for most of the rest of her life was going to be a problem, though. Would she ever be taken seriously in Space Command if she always looked like a newly graduated ensign? Well, first things first.
Her jailers didn't return to ‘toss' the cell for almost three hours. It probably took that long for Arneu to get medical attention and have the painkillers kick in before he realized that he had lost the controller. Jenetta was lying on the cot when Rosewood opened the viewing slot on the door and ordered her to get on the circle. Once there she was secured. Then he and Hawkface entered with stun pistols drawn and searched the cell.
The first guard in, Rosewood, said, "Nothing here."
"Yeah," Hawkface said, "but let's swap the mattress anyway. We'll check it again in the corridor."
After they had removed the mattress and brought in a replacement, Rosewood said, "He probably lost it while he was tossing down brandies in the bar."
"He had good reason. Did you see the size of the bandage on his face? His nose must be the size of a grapefruit."
Rosewood chuckled. "Better him than me. Let's get out of here. I don't trust this crazy little bitch."
The guards left, releasing Jenetta after locking the door. When the viewing slot had closed, Jenetta took her first full breath since Rosewood and Hawkface had arrived. She arranged the thin replacement mattress, which had been left half hanging off the wall-mounted platform, and lay down to continue her planning. She was trying to recall every single thing that she had seen or heard since arriving here; especially anything that might be important for her escape.
* * *
Jenetta's trips to the medical lab resumed the next day. She hoped that she could put her plan into action before they totally brainwashed her, or wiped her memory, but there were a few critical answers she still needed before attempting an escape. For now she preferred not dwelling on the fact that once she'd removed the bands from her wrists, ankles, waist, and neck, she would still be locked inside her cell, locked inside a cellblock, locked inside a detention center with armed guards blocking the only exit, and trapped in the bowels of a station with thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of Raider personnel between her and a useable ship.
"One step at a time," she said, resolutely.
Chapter Sixteen
~ August 9
th
, 2267 ~
On the fifth morning following Jenetta's highly successful and eminently satisfying assault on Arneu, Bellis came to her cell and ordered her to the circle before securing her. Expecting to be taken to the medical lab once again, she was surprised when a woman dressed like a stereotypical prostitute was escorted into the cell and the door locked behind her. Red leather ankle-strap shoes with heels that must have added five inches to her already remarkable height had the visitor quite literally towering over Jenetta. A knee length dress of shimmering crimson silk so taut across her thighs that they appeared fused, certainly didn't make walking in the towering heels any easier, but it certainly contributed to the desired effect on any male observer. Bellis was panting like a marathon runner near the end of a race when he pulled the cell door closed.
Jenetta stared at the curvaceous woman warily. About twenty-seven-years-old, she simply oozed sexiness. Her attractive face was a bit too heavily made up and her waist-length raven locks glistened more than seemed possible in the diffused light of the cell. As she approached, Jenetta couldn't help but recall her studies in Greek mythology that contained references to a nation known as Scythia. An ancient area of Eurasia extending from the Black Sea to the Aral Sea, Scythia was populated mainly by women warriors referred to as Amazons. Jenetta didn't miss the fact that the woman was wearing a restraint collar, but not the rest of the restraint bands that Jenetta had seen on all other prisoners.
Smiling pleasantly, the woman greeted Jenetta with, "Hi, honey, I'm 721."
"721?" Jenetta echoed.
"Well, actually I'm PS89721, but I shortened it, and the guards don't seem to mind."
"I'm Jenetta Carver."
The expression on the woman's face immediately turned to one of shock and fear. She leaned in close and whispered loudly, "Hon, never, and I mean never, use your old name. From today on, they'll hit you with a level two if they hear you utter it. Your only name is PS89726, or you can use 726 if you want."
Jenetta's indignation was obvious as she said, "I am not— a number!"
Straightening back up, her visitor said softly, "Then you'd better become one fast, hon, unless you enjoy living in perpetual pain. Besides, we'll be getting our new names soon enough. I heard that we're being shipped off to a resort in the Uthlaro Dominion in about two weeks. We'll be put into stasis for the five-year trip. They don't want us to have any memories of this place or the trip, so once we reach the resort they'll blank our minds."
"Doesn't that also wipe out the new stuff that they've implanted?"
The woman looked bewildered for a moment. "Apparently not, since they take the time to put everyone through the training. Now, what's your name?"
Jenetta sighed, and said wearily, "726."
"Good." 721 smiled and took a couple of steps backward before aiming a small controller at Jenetta. As she pushed a button on its face, Jenetta was suddenly unsecured.
"You have a controller?" Jenetta said incredulously.
"Yes, I'm a trustee." She held out her hand and showed the small red unit to Jenetta. "It's only a trustee controller, though, so it can't administer a shock. I wish that I could remove this damned collar, but it doesn't work on them either. You need a green or black one for that."
"Right now I'd be satisfied just to get the rest of them off, like you."
"Ta-daaa, your wish is granted."
"What?"
"I've already unlocked them. All you have to do is slip them off, hon."
Jenetta looked into her eyes for a second to see if she was kidding, then used her right hand to reach for the band on her left wrist. As she pulled, the lightweight band stretched as if made of elastic. In seconds, she had stripped the bands off her wrists, ankles, and waist. She even tried the neckband but it was still solid.
721 giggled at the attempt. "I tried also, the first time, just in case. How about taking a shower?" Wrinkling her nose, she added, "Your hair is pretty grungy. And you could use some clean clothes."
"Are you kidding? I'd kill for a shower," Jenetta said facetiously. "I've been bathing in the toilet until now. I've also been washing my bra and panties in it every night after lights out, and then getting dressed after I hear the first bong in the morning."
"Let's open your bathroom," 721 said cheerfully as she moved to the small control panel on the wall.
"Bathroom? What bathroom? That control panel doesn't work. I tried it the first day that I was here."
"You simply have to have the right touch," 721 said, pushing the top left button. A small section of the wall, just wide enough to be a doorway, slid up to reveal a bathroom with a sink and shower stall.
Jenetta just stood there with her mouth open for a couple of seconds. "Why didn't that open for me?"
"Just one of the guards' little jokes. They don't activate the switches for the first few days and then take bets to see how long it takes you to find out they're working. Prisoners are always gagged when they leave the cell so that they can't pass on the information to anyone else."
"Those lousy, sadistic bastards. Uh, I didn't notice any camera monitors in the anteroom. How do they know when we find the bathroom for the first time?"
"I don't know. I guess they can determine when and how often the buttons are depressed from computer records or something. I do know why they don't have cameras in the detention center. One of the guards told me after I became a trustee and was finally permitted to talk."
"Okay, I'll bite. Why don't they have cameras in here?"
"The guards used to spend all their time ogling the mostly naked female prisoners in their cells, and they'd work themselves up until, out of total sexual frustration, they'd rape the women or go beat up on the male prisoners. Since the prisoner population is so easy to control without constant monitoring, the base commandant finally ordered that all security cameras be removed from the cells. The commandant also offers huge incentives to any guard that rats out another who abuses a prisoner, sexually or physically." Smiling pitilessly, 721 said, "The stoolpigeon gets an all expense paid vacation, and the abusive guard gets a no expense trip out an airlock, without a suit. That keeps them all faithfully toeing the mark; at least as far as touching the women or beating up the men is concerned. Now they work out their frustrations with sadistic games, and gambling on the results."
Jenetta nodded her head towards the control panel. "What do the other switches do?"
"This one turns on the lights in the bathroom," 721 said as she pressed it. "I'll show you the others after you clean up."
Following 721 into the heretofore hidden room, Jenetta looked into a mirror for the first time in almost three weeks. She was a mess— correction, a full-blown disaster. Her eyes were sunken and her face was sallow. Her shoulder-length hair had the appearance of a rat's nest, and she looked like a wild thing fresh from a jungle. The weeks of captivity, medical procedures, and worry had left her looking terribly shabby and worn down. ‘
Beaten down is a more appropriate description
,' she thought, ‘
but that stops now. I know how to remove the restraints and I have the means. I'm getting out of here very soon; one way or another
.'
721 removed a pair of what looked like opaque swimming goggles and a shower cap made of a soft silver fabric from a hook next to the mirror.
"Strip and put these on, hon. Press the large silver buttons on both sides of the mirror once, simultaneously, when you're ready. Make certain that all your hair is covered by the cap— every single strand. And don't press the buttons until you have the goggles securely in place; the light can destroy your eyes in a nanosecond. Even closing the lids won't protect them completely. The ray should work now that I've been assigned to show you the ropes."
"What light? What does it do?"
"It cleanses your body by killing any harmful parasites that might be on you. The shampoo on the shelf in the shower stall will do the same for your head and hair when you shower."
Jenetta donned the cap and made sure that every strand of hair was tucked neatly beneath it. Then she positioned the goggles carefully and pressed the buttons. For just a fraction of a second she was bathed in a blinding light so brilliant that she could see clearly through the blackened glass of the goggles.
From outside the bathroom, where the light couldn't directly reach her, 721 said, "Okay, you can take the goggles and cap off now. Enjoy your shower, hon."
All other thoughts faded as Jenetta savored her first shower in weeks. She used the shampoo from the shelf, cleansing her hair three times before treating it with the conditioner, then soaped and rinsed her body four times using a bar of sweet fragrant soap she found in the stall. After that, she just stood under the hot spray until the skin on her fingers started to wrinkle, as if the water alone could wash away the days of misery she'd endured since her capture.
As Jenetta toweled off, she realized that she was totally hairless from the cheekbones down. The stubble had gotten quite bad on her legs during the past few weeks, but now they were as smooth as a baby's bottom. After toweling herself dry with an incredibly soft towel that smelled of lilacs and wildflowers, Jenetta wrapped a fresh towel around her body and left the bathroom. 721 smiled, and, for the first time in weeks, so did she.
"I bet that you feel a hundred percent better."
"A thousand percent, at least. I seem to be missing some hair, though."
Giggling, 721 said, "The ray is responsible for that. It sure beats shaving, even with the laser razors that partially damage the follicles to keep hair from regrowing for months. The goggles protect your eyebrows and eyelashes, as well as your eyes, so you still have to pluck your eyebrows manually."
"But I'm missing hair on— an area where I usually let it grow."
"Oh— don't worry about that. I've been told that men like it better this way."
"Really? Then let them do it. What's this?" Jenetta asked, pointing to a pile of clothes lying on the cot.
"Your clothes. From your closet."
"I have a closet?"
"The button immediately below the bathroom door button opens your closet. Here's a clean pair of panties."
"Is that what they are?" Jenetta asked flippantly. "There's so little material, how can you tell?"
"Would you rather wear your old, dirty, cotton ones?"
"No— I guess not," Jenetta said as she pulled on the lace-edged panties, and then dropped the towel as she put on the matching bra that 721 tossed to her. When 721 walked over to the wall and pressed the third button on the top row, another door panel slid up to reveal a makeup table and chair.
"Come sit down, hon," 721 said as she pulled out the chair, "and I'll try to do
something
with that hair."
It took a good hour, but 721 was able to comb all the tangles out of Jenetta's hair and fashion it into reasonable hairdo.
"Okay, put these on," 721 said as she held a pair of charcoal tinted stockings out to Jenetta.
"No way! I never wear stockings!"
"You do now. They insist."
"No!"
721 sighed in exasperation. "Hon, they'll just shock you repeatedly until you comply. You can't possibly win while you wear that damn collar around your neck. We're like a herd of cattle, but what can we do?"
Jenetta hesitated, then reluctantly took the stockings and put them on.
"Good, now stand up."
As Jenetta rose, 721 pulled a heavy piece of black fabric around her middle and fastened it. It extended from her bust to her hips and had a strange composite metal closure in the front.
"What's this?" Jenetta asked.
"It's a waist-cincher; what was commonly called a corset hundreds of years ago."
"A corset? You're kidding. Women don't wear corsets anymore. They're unhealthy and extremely uncomfortable."
"But the company's pleasure slaves all do. That means that you and I do, along with every other woman in this detention center. It's part of the required uniform, and you won't fit into your new clothes if you don't wear it."
Jenetta bit the inside of her lip. She could put up with all the nonsense until her escape attempt and then she was going to get out of here, or die trying. There was one thing she knew for sure— she would
never
set foot in any pleasure resort as a slave.
721 picked up a white controller from the makeup table and held it against Jenetta. It only had two large buttons. "Okay, hon," 721 said, "take a full breath and then expel as much as possible."
As she released her breath, Jenetta felt the corset material constrict wherever 721 touched the white controller to her body. By moving the controller up and down, 721 could sculpt a new figure for Jenetta.
"STOP!" Jenetta managed to shriek as 721 attempted to simulate more of the fabled wasp waist than Jenetta's muscled torso could easily permit.
"Not yet, hon. Just a little more off your waist."
By the time 721 stopped, Jenetta felt like she was being cut in half. With minimal body fat to work with, the corset was reshaping muscle mass and realigning internal organs.
"You're killing me," Jenetta groaned. "I thought hanging in the anteroom was torture."
"Oh, don't be silly; you're fine. You just have to get used to it. After a few hours you'll feel naked without it. Here's your garter belt."
"I don't need that," Jenetta groaned.
"Of course you do. For some strange reason, this silly little piece of material turns men into simpering, drooling fools. The company requires that all pleasure slaves wear one when dressed." 721 hooked the belt in back and then connected the four suspender straps to Jenetta's stockings. "Okay, hon, sit down and give me your left leg."
As Jenetta complied, 721 put a shoe on her foot that caused Jenetta's eyes to open wide.
"That heel has to be at least twelve centimeters. Can't I start with something smaller? I've never worn heels higher than five centimeters, and not even those since my high school prom."