Chapter 6

P: 35 M: 36 S: 25

--Tuesday, 25^th May, 1999--

I awoke to late afternoon light streaming in through my bedroom windows. Almost full-length floor to ceiling, the tinted glass panels looked out over the smaller buildings nearby and out to the rivers in the west. From my bed I could see boats out there on water that glimmered gold with the lowering sun.

Yawning, I stretched languorously, tightening and loosening my muscles as I considered getting up. The clock on my bedside table read four-fifteen pm, telling me that I’d slept most of the day. Not that it mattered, really.

It wasn’t until I had my feet on the floor that I realised how buzzed I felt. Smiling, I twisted my body this way and that, feeling new strength and flexibility in my muscles and a welcome new alertness in my brain. A sharpening of the senses. Colours were brighter, more vivid, and I could dimly hear cars on the roads outside.

Heading for the shower, I stopped at the frameless bathroom mirror next to the vanity and studied myself, grinning. I had slimmed further and added some more muscle to my frame. I was no underwear model, but I hadn’t looked this healthy in a long time. I wondered if I could make the process go faster ... Lost in my thoughts, I showered and threw on some loose shorts and a shirt before hitting the kitchen. It was a routine I saw myself getting used to: Dianne, shower, eat, sleep, eat, repeat.

My phone dinged as I prepared a snack. I checked it while I waited for the toaster. It was from Debbie.

’Looking forward to tonight. Pizza?’

Grinning, I quickly replied in the affirmative. My body was demanding calories in a big way. Whatever had happened in Diablo had given me a pretty significant boost. Was it the game? Or the intensity in which I’d played it? I’ll ask Dianne and see what she says.

’Cool!’ Came Debbie’s reply. ’See you soon!’

I ate my snack – eight rounds of toast with peanut butter and jam – and then bummed around the apartment a bit, tidying up before Debbie was due to arrive. I didn’t really have time for any more Dianne action, so I left her alone. Catching my reflection in the bathroom mirror during my tidying, I thought I looked a bit underdressed. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to throw on something a bit nicer, and maybe some cologne?

From where that thought originated, I had no clue, but I decided it would be in my benefit to look and smell good for Debbie. Going through my wardrobe, I found a black button-down shirt with short sleeves and a crisp pair of stonewashed blue jeans that fit me as well as the other pair. To finish, I slipped on the black dress boots from yesterday.

Feeling much better – it was scary how fast these new threads were becoming comfortable – I opened a drawer in the wardrobe to see a few items neatly arrayed, each one lying in a custom foam cut-out: a bottle of Hugo Boss cologne, a leather belt rolled into a tight circle and a pair of cufflinks. There was also space for a watch, but it was currently vacant. I guess they’ve spent enough money on me as it is.

Dressed, I went to the bathroom and made an effort to jazz up my hair a bit with some wax, but I really had no idea what I was doing, so I opted with making it look a little spiky and messy and hoped I was onto something.

An age seemed to pass before the intercom next to the front door chimed musically.

“It’s me!” Debbie announced brightly when I answered.

“Come on up,” I said in an attempt to sound casual as I pressed the button to allow her entry into the lift. Well, I hoped I sounded casual; I certainly didn’t feel it. I needed two tries to press the button properly due to a shaking hand. Why am I so nervous?

When I pulled the door open to admit Debbie, my mouth went dry. She was wearing a slinky black dress that moulded her curvy figure tightly and left a vast amount of her legs bare, legs that seemed all the longer for the strappy heels on her feet. Her hair was loose, hanging to just below her shoulders with a bit of a curl at the bottom. The dress was low cut, showing an excellent amount of plump, firm cleavage. When my eyes found her face, I saw she had makeup on, including a dark-red shade of lipstick that made her full lips look even more kissable, and she’d made her eyelashes longer. The way she looked at me through those lashes made my heart begin to race.

“Somebody order pizza?” she asked sweetly, proffering the two huge boxes she was holding.

I’d completely missed the bloody pizza. “Oh!” I said, quickly taking the boxes from her. “Here, let me.” I stepped aside. “Please come in.”

She grinned. “Don’t mind if I do. And wow! You look great!” She eyed me up and down approvingly.

“Uh, thanks,” I muttered awkwardly, not used to being complimented on my appearance. “You, too.”

“Aw, thanks!” She looked down at herself and did that thing girls do where they tug at their dresses unnecessarily, then she walked a few steps inside and whistled softly as she looked around. “Wow! This place is amazing!”

I watched with a small smile as she hurried down the short hall into the main living area where the lounge and the big windows were. The sun was down, but there was a warm orange glow on the distant horizon. I stood there, transfixed as she leaned against the window frame to get a better look. The fading daylight caught in her hair, giving her something of a halo.

When she turned around, I was still standing there like an idiot, staring at her, pizzas forgotten in my hands. A long moment passed in silence. Christ, she was beautiful. I’d never seen her all done up before. She had gone from more-than-pretty to downright stunning.

“This place must cost a fortune!” She remarked as she gazed around in awe.

I shook myself out of my trance. “Hungry?”

Debbie nodded eagerly and I invited her to take a seat on the couch while I grabbed some plates and napkins from the kitchen. Soon enough we were all set up with the pizzas arrayed on the ottoman and the two of us happily tucking in.

“I don’t know what it is about this place,” Debbie said around a mouthful of pepperoni as she pointed enthusiastically to the box featuring the stereotypical moustachioed Italian man in a chef’s hat smiling gleefully as he proffered his wares. “But they make the best pizzas.”

“I’ve never looked anywhere else,” I agreed. I kept wanting to stare at her but forced myself to be cool. She even looked hot eating pizza.

“So, what’s the plan?” She asked me when we were finished. Well, she was finished, going by the way she pushed her plate away and settled back a little with a satisfied sigh. She’d had two pieces. I was into my third and still going strong. I knew that if I kept going, I would destroy the rest, even with my hefty snack earlier.

Her question caught me off guard. I hadn’t realised there needed to be a plan. Weren’t we just supposed to hang out and play games, and maybe have some more fun like we did last time if things went well? I thought about it for a moment as I ate.

Indy stepped in at that point, which was probably for the best, telling me what he thought I should say.

“What are you in the mood for?” I asked. Definitely not a question I would have asked normally, but Debbie seemed happy enough to answer.

She put a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “Hmmm,” she mused, watching me with those big, dark eyes. “Well, that depends.” The tone of her voice was lower, now, and there was a definite smokiness to that gaze.

My appetite for pizza was suddenly shoved roughly aside by a more urgent hunger.

Hold on, kid! Indy interjected quickly. Not so fast!

I blinked, confused. What? I demanded. I’m pretty sure she wants to get freaky! Why would I hold on?

Because! He replied as if it were the simplest thing in the world. You like this girl, yes? When I confirmed, he continued. Then you want to dazzle her, kid! Give her a night she’ll remember! The bedroom will be there later, but if you make her wait for it, she’ll be all the more grateful tomorrow, trust me.

That all sounds wonderful, I said sarcastically, but what do you suggest I do with her? Take her for a tour of all my video games?

Kid, Indy said patiently. You have access to a limo, and a bank account with five-hundred dollars in it. You could go on a week-long holiday with that kind of dough and live like a king!

I refrained from explaining to the esteemed Dr. Jones that the value of money had changed somewhat since the nineteen-forties, but that was because he had a point. A very good point. I could get a lot done with a free limo and five-hundred bucks.

“Well,” I said to Debbie, who was awaiting my reply expectantly. “My original thought was to chill and play some games with you, but I’ve got a better idea.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, sliding closer as I pushed my own plate away. She smelled good; warm and flowery. I thought she might use apple-scented shampoo.

You better be right about this, Jones, I warned in my head. Out loud, I said, “Fancy stepping out for a while? You’re dressed up, so am I, and the night is young. We should go have some fun!”

Debbie bit her bottom lip, an action that made me a little crazy inside to witness. She seemed to be thinking about it. “Okay!” She said after a second. “Where are you taking me?”

I had no idea, but I bluffed my way through. “You just leave that to me.”

She clapped her hands excitedly and beamed. “Where’s your bathroom? I’m going to go check my make up.”

I pointed her in the right direction and while she was gone, I cleaned up a bit. I called out to her in offer of a drink, to which she accepted. When I went to crack her a beer, however, Indy chimed in and suggested I pour her a wine.

Where the fuck am I going to find wine? I grated at him. To my surprise, I did find a cupboard I hadn’t opened yet which turned out to be a bit of a wine storage area. “Huh,” I grunted as I pulled a bottle of red free and turned it over in my hands. I had no idea what anything on the label meant, but I figured it had to be alright if the standard of everything else in this house was anything to go on.

When Debbie returned, I was sitting back on the couch, beer in hand and phone in the other. I’d been texting Gloria to book a ride, and she had responded right away saying she would be around within half an hour. I tucked the phone back in my pocket as Debbie sat next to me and picked up her wine from the ottoman. She made a noise at the first sip.

“Wow! This is the nicest wine I’ve ever had! What is this?”

I shrugged. “Not sure. I just found it in the cupboard and thought you might prefer it over a beer.”

“You thought right,” she said, taking another sip. “I mean, I’m no connoisseur or anything, but this is far better than the cheap crap I normally have.”

“Glad you like it,” I told her honestly.

“Jake, can I ask you something?” she enquired, turning toward me a little and holding the glass with both hands in her lap. She seemed uncertain.

“Of course,” I replied, wondering what she could be about to say.

She took a deep breath. “I wasn’t too ... forward ... with you the other day, was I?”

I blinked. “Forward? What do you mean?”

She shifted uncomfortably and studied her wine as she answered. “I mean in the shower.”

“Oh,” I murmured, not really knowing what to say. “I hadn’t really thought about it.” I suddenly realised that could be taken two ways and going by the way Debbie suddenly looked a little confused, it was obvious she wasn’t sure what I meant. I opened my mouth to reassure her, but again, Indy stopped me.

Hold, kid. It’s not a bad thing to keep a woman guessing.

What? I retorted. She feels bad because she thinks I haven’t thought about the shower, when it’s all I’ve thought about!

Just trust me, alright? Indy shot back irritably. I know it seems counterintuitive but go with this. You’ll be glad you listened.

But she already likes me! I argued. I don’t need to do any of this covert stuff. I’d read about pickup techniques enough to know what was happening, despite not having the slightest clue how to execute any of it.

That’s what you think, kid. At that, his presence lessened, fading into the background after one more admonition. Don’t be too eager.

“Really?” Debbie said, tucking her hair behind her ear uncertainly. “I thought ... Never mind.”

Seeing her like this was making me uncomfortable, especially since I was the cause of it. I wanted to blurt out how much I liked her and how much I’d thought about our fun together, but something about Indy’s advice stopped me. Debbie seemed like she had more to say, so I stayed silent.

“I just felt bad for blowing you off the other day, and then you collapsed, and then...” She shot me an embarrassed look. “One thing led to another. I’m not normally like that with guys.”

Christ, I thought soberly. She’s so vulnerable right now. I just want to give her a hug and tell her it’s all okay. “Relax,” I said, laying a hand on her wrist. “Don’t worry about it.” Hopefully that was ambiguous enough to keep Indy happy.

She shot me a grateful look and brightened visibly. “Thanks, Jake.”

“Good,” I said pointedly, as that settled the matter. “Now that that’s all cleared up, we should finish our drinks and head downstairs. The limousine will be here soon.”

Debbie almost choked on her wine. “Limousine?” She sputtered when she could talk again. “Why are we getting a limousine?”

“We’re going out, aren’t we?” I replied as if it were a no-brainer. “We should be comfortable.”

She was looking at me suspiciously, now, through slitted eyes. Her lips were pursed. “Alright, who are you, Jake London? Some sort of undercover millionaire or something?”

“I wish,” I replied, draining the last of my beer. “I’m just a guy whose luck has turned around lately, that’s all.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Shit. What to tell her? I decided I wasn’t ready to tell her about Dianne and that whole situation, so I made up the best lie I could think of on the spot. “My uncle passed away recently, and he left me the apartment, plus a few other luxuries.”

“Oh, Jake, I’m sorry to hear that.” She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. Her touch was electric, even through my shirt.

“I didn’t really know him,” I added. That should cover me having to make up more lies than I could keep track of. “But he didn’t have any children of his own, so I guess that’s why he left this stuff to me.”

“Wow,” Debbie breathed. “What a trip.” She sure was saying ‘wow’ a lot, tonight. I couldn’t blame her, really.

The intercom chimed, then, announcing Gloria’s arrival. “Come on,” I said, standing up. What do you say we go and have some fun?” I took Debbie’s glass and led the way to the door, only stopping to put the glass down on the way past the kitchen.

“Where are we going?” she asked excitedly as we entered the lift.

“Wherever you want,” I answered, looking down at her.

She met my gaze for a moment, and then she was on her tiptoes, kissing me, her arms around my neck. I felt my body melting, moulding itself to hers as I pulled her in close. I could have stayed like that forever, but good old Indy jumped in again.

Break the kiss first, kid. Keep her wanting more.

I groaned inwardly but did as he suggested. For an archaeologist, he sure did claim to know a great deal about women, but then, Indy always had women. That was just the way it went. The lift doors came open as our embrace ended, and I led Debbie by the hand – again at Indy’s instruction – through the foyer and out the big glass doors, where Gloria waited patiently by the limo.

The bronze-skinned beauty looked as impressive as ever in her tight-fitting black suit. At this hour, she wore no sunglasses, and her brown eyes twinkled as she smiled at us. “Good evening, Mr. London,” she greeted smoothly. To Debbie, she stepped forward and offered a hand, introducing herself. Debbie’s surname was Swanson, it turned out. She shot me a look once the introductions were done, when Gloria turned her back on us briefly to open the car door. The look seemed to say: “Why is your driver such an attractive woman?”

In the back of my head, Indy chuckled. Oh, this is good, kid. Nothing like a little healthy competition to heat things up! Grimacing, I pushed him down, having heard enough of him for the moment.

“Are you alright, Jake?” Debbie asked me as we got settled into the comfortable leather seats.

“Fine,” I assured her with a smile after smoothing my expression. “Just thinking about something else.” There was plenty of room in the back for both of us, but Debbie firmly took the position right next to me, pressing her round hip to mine. Her dress rode up high, exposing most of her smooth thighs. She looked up at me excitedly as she wound her arms around my right one, holding me close.

I couldn’t help it. She was warm and soft and those eyes ... I felt myself stiffening in my jeans. With luck, she wouldn’t notice, but if she did, would she even care?

“Your driver is very pretty,” she remarked, nodding to where Gloria was climbing into the driver’s seat up front. “Was she your uncle’s employee?”

“I think so,” I replied, again regretting having to lie. “I was just told if I ever needed a ride anywhere, I should call her. So far, she’s been great.” Debbie’s fingers were stroking my arm as I spoke, sending tingles across my skin.

The glass privacy screen lowered, and Gloria asked where we’d like to go. I looked down at Debbie with eyebrows raised, prompting her to speak. She thought for a moment, then excitedly announced, “The Palace!”

“Very well, Miss Swanson,” Gloria replied before the screen raised again. The Palace was one of the bigger venues in town, fitted out like a renaissance building after its name. All pillars and columns and marble and statues, with chairs that looked like little thrones and ... Well, you get the idea. If you’ve seen or heard of Caesar’s in Vegas, this place was like a smaller version. I’d never been in there, being the antisocial creature that I was.

Wanting to poke a little fun, I scrunched up my face in scorn. “Really? The Palace? You like that place?”

“What? What’s wrong with it?” She said, looking uncertain.

I shrugged. “Nothing, I guess,” but my tone said anything but.

“We can change it,” she offered suddenly, her big eyes sincere. “I’m not worried where we go.”

Now I felt bad. She hadn’t picked up I was only playing with her. Cursing my social ineptitude, I wondered what to say next. Indy came to the rescue. “Relax,” I told her, touching her cheek. “Last time I went there I didn’t have much fun, but for you, I’ll give it another chance. Sound okay?”

In answer, her gaze turned smoky again. “Can she see through that screen?” There was no question what she meant as her eyes flicked to the privacy screen between us and Gloria.

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.” My last word was interrupted by a sharp intake of breath as her fingernails scraped across the material of my jeans right above my aching cock. The feeling was delightful.

“The Palace is at least twenty minutes from here,” she purred in my ear as her fingers danced. “Think you can last that long?”

Fuck! Any advice? I cried to Indy as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I’m not going to be able to hold out at this rate!

She’s pulling out all the stops now, kid. Came Indy’s reply. You’re on your own. Might as well buckle up and enjoy the ride.

I shook my head, both in frustration at Indy’s flimsy resolve, and the sight of Debbie’s other hand moving down toward my crotch. I didn’t have the will to stop her. A few seconds later, she had my jeans undone and the fly open, exposing my tented underwear. “Is this okay?” She whispered in my ear as she resumed her tantalising touches, even more exquisite now there was less fabric in the way. She had to be teasing me with that question, for there was only one answer.

I nodded, and she grinned and slid down to the floor. There was plenty of room in the big limo, making it easy for her to shimmy in between my legs. My heart was racing, blood thumping in my ears as I watched her hook fingers in the waist of my jeans and underwear and yank them down far enough to expose my throbbing dick. Time slowed down as she shot me one maddeningly sultry look before her head descended.

Warm, hot pleasure exploded in my brain as she took me into her mouth. My eyes rolled up in the back of my head and my hips lifted involuntarily, trying to push deeper. She took me easily, my full length disappearing behind her lips. Her moan sent vibrations through my most sensitive areas, driving my pleasure higher.

I’d had blowjobs before – only while in Dianne – and they had felt much the same I suppose, but the fact that this was actually real made it all the more exciting. Debbie worked quickly and effectively, starting slowly but rapidly increasing her pace until her head was bobbing up and down furiously. Her fingers tickled my balls lightly in a way that made the top of my head want to lift off.

All too soon, I was grunting and holding her head as I released into her mouth, watching transfixed as my cock flexed between those red lips. I swear I nearly came again as I felt her swallowing my cum. She continued until there was no more, then lifted her head. I came free of her lips with a wet pop.

“You taste good,” she remarked with a grin. She appeared very pleased with herself.

“You, uh, do that good,” was about all I could manage as post-orgasm dopamine flooded my system. She giggled and looked over her shoulder, but the screen had not moved.

“Thank you,” she replied coyly as she helped me fix up my jeans. “I don’t know why,” she continued as she resumed her seat beside me, “but I just really wanted to do that for you.”

“No complaints here,” I said with a grin, putting an arm around her shoulders. I was now well past caring about being too affectionate. She snuggled against me happily. We chatted for the rest of the ride over another drink each, procured from the limo’s cooler. The chatting did soon turn to kissing, however, and the back of the limo was once again heating up when we felt the car come to a stop.

We straightened ourselves up before Gloria pulled the door open to let us out in front of the Palace. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought the corners of her full lips were ever so slightly curved, as if she knew what we’d been up to. Flushing, I stepped out onto the sidewalk and offered a hand to Debbie to help her out of the car.

“Thanks, Gloria,” I said as I looked around. The garish, bright lights all over the front of the club made me squint after the softer lighting inside the limo. A dull, rhythmic thumping emanated from inside, the fringes of whatever drum-and-bass rubbish they were blasting to their patrons. It all sounded the same to me, really. A long line of young and well-dressed people waited behind a red velvet rope that flanked the building, many of them looking at us curiously, as if wondering who might be arriving in a limo.

“You are most welcome, Mr. London,” Gloria replied graciously. “Your names are on the door, so you will not have to wait in line. Just call or message me when you’re ready to leave. I won’t be far.” At that, she bade us a good night and swayed back around the car. I noticed several guys in line eyeing the way her pants moulded her backside. A few girls, too.

“Awesome!” Debbie exclaimed with a grin. “We don’t have to wait! Thanks Gloria!” She offered that last with a happy wave. Gloria returned it with a smile over the limo’s roof before disappearing inside. Without further ado, Debbie was leading me by the hand to the huge wooden doors guarded by two hulking men in black suits that eyed us much the way a tiger eyes a mouse; too small to bother with unless it became necessary.

“Names?” one of the bouncers said. He was black and bald and carried a clipboard in a hand big enough to crush my skull.

“Uh, Jake London and Debbie Swanson,” I answered. There was a pregnant moment as he glanced at the clipboard. To my left, I saw the people at the front of the line watching us, their faces a mixture of envy and curiosity. There was a girl among them, remarkably pretty with lustrous black hair that fell to pale shoulders left bare by her strapless white dress. When our eyes met, she held my gaze confidently, her face unreadable.

My attention was pulled back to the bouncer when he spoke. “You’re good to go in,” he rumbled in a voice bass enough to compete with the cacophony inside. He unhooked the rope that blocked off one half of the open doors. “You’re in VIP. Go inside and up the stairs on the left. Someone will meet you there.”

Debbie looked at me and I met her stare, wondering if I looked as surprised as she was. VIP? It had to have been Gloria, and therefore the Company doing its thing. Wondering what the VIP section was like, I took Debbie’s hand and went inside.

--TECHNOLOGICAL FACILITY, LOCATION UNKNOWN--

J sighed as he watched the grid of displays that populated the glass wall in front of him. Twenty subjects for himself and M to monitor and analyse. Never before had there been this many. The Company was pushing hard, preparing for something, or perhaps attempting to meet some deadline, the knowledge of which was beyond J’s paygrade. There were far more subjects out there, but J and M were responsible only for this group.

His eyes flicked from square to high-definition square on the three-by-three metre wall, watching the subjects as they performed whatever task to which they had applied themselves today. Some were using the tech supplied to them in the form of the Dianne unit, while others weren’t at this moment.

In the top left corner, Subject One was on his couch in his house, headset on and engaged in his usual fantasy of being Elvis, on stage at Madison Square Garden in front of thousands of screaming fans. The majority of his screen was taken up by the view from his perspective as he performed, while the top left corner showed him on the couch.

One was actually quite good, though he looked nothing like Elvis in reality, unless it was the King in the later stages of his life. One had been a fifty-four-year-old, overweight parking officer before the Company had delivered him the tech. Now, he was a fifty-five-year-old overweight test subject. Well, he was less overweight, anyway. One’s physique had not taken to the technology as some of the others had. It was combination of that and the fact that he rarely did any physical activity, simulated or otherwise.

A few squares over, Subject Four – a lean African American woman in her early thirties – was standing in her living room dressed in a singlet and loose running shorts, headset on. Inside her mind, though, she was running a marathon. Already extremely fit before Dianne, Four was now at a level J had not seen before. A pity she had not put the other aspects of the tech to such excellent use. She was as single-minded as Subject One, concentrating only on a singular desire.

One and Four were not alone. The others were all the same to varying degrees. Did they not realise the gift they had been given? Perhaps it was good they did not, else J and his colleagues may have had more competition. The thought made him turn to look at M. She was working at a glass desk nearby, fingers flashing across an array of displays. Her slim back was to him, so his look went unnoticed.

There were a few standouts, J had to admit, though not as many as he had hoped. Still, the tech had been upgraded since last rollout, and there had not been any casualties yet. A good sign. Even more advanced models were in R&D, but most of it was again above J’s paygrade.

As was more and more common of late, J found his eyes at the bottom right corner of the screen, where Twenty’s activities were displayed. Currently he was in the back of a limo with a pretty, young woman. The young man was fascinating to watch, J had to admit. His exploits with the tech were so contrary to the ordinary – perhaps even apathetic – way he lived his life. Out of all twenty subjects, he showed the most promise, though not in the way J and M had thought. The challenge now was to keep his unique, unorthodox progress away from other eyes until J knew what to do with him.

Despite needing to update reports on the others, J aimed his hand, fingers pinched together, at Twenty’s display, then splayed his fingers out again, expanding the square until it occupied most of the wall. The other subjects’ displays reduced and shifted to the edges so J could keep an eye on them. With the screen expanded, Twenty’s vital statistics now showed down the right side, including heart rate, blood pressure, even brain waves. All were normal enough, though heart rate and blood pressure were elevated somewhat, probably because Agent One-Three-Nine – the pretty young girl – was pressed up against him like that. J wasn’t sure his own body wouldn’t be responding that way if One-Three-Nine touched him so; she was a very well put-together young woman.