Chapter 15: Choosing the Bumpy Road

Cat tried to hole up but I didn’t let her. On the fourteenth of November, we dressed up with her in the beloved red gown to go to the opera in Central City. The Marriage of Figaro was a very lively production. Mozart was, is, and always will be a genius. Regardless of what that idiot with a fifteen-minute attention span thought.

Cat was beautiful and enthralled, which spread out among the others in the fifth through the tenth rows as she bounced and clapped, outright enjoying scene after scene.

After Act I, Cat commented on something that I missed (and had little desire to understand), but the young woman next to us, we later found out her name was Rachel Kresge, the granddaughter of the Opera Hall’s owner and regular patron at the age of nineteen, started a rapid-fire conversation with my exuberant charge about some esoteric aspects of the play that went beyond me.

I appreciated Operas but only to a certain extent, admitting privately that it was mostly for the Orchestra, the costumes and the pageantry that I enjoyed. During the second intermission, contact information was shared between the two. After the end of the third, we, I, got dragged to dinner with Rachel, her aunt Angelique, and her grandmother Abigail. Cat went all too willingly with the family of redheads.

“Mom would rather stick ice picks in her ears than listen to Opera. She never attends,” the slim young redhead explained to her new friend.

The three aficionados discussed the finer aspects of that specific Opera and how it related to Mozart’s other Operas with my student over wine. Cat who was underage stuck with iced tea. I sipped my bourbon and enjoyed Cat enjoying other’s company over a fine meal of pork and potatoes.

Both Abigail and Angelique, Abby, and Angel, were exceptional hostesses. With Rachel mostly monopolizing the younger teen, the three of us discussed more mundane things such as Cat’s background and what my education plans for her were and business. They knew of Catherine’s and my relationship with my student from FNN. That the younger lady also knew of my relationship with Moria, not what, just that I had one, I found interesting. The eldest of the three spoke to me about what I did for the Smithsonian and similar museums worldwide. My anti-bomb wards and force fields had been offered to any established museum worldwide at my cost plus ten-percent.

Rachel was interning at SI, having already graduated at an early age from Brown. Her Aunt was ensconced in their accounting department at SI’s headquarters. Not all that surprising since Strife International was the largest employer in Central City and the state.

The exceedingly late dinner ended with them allowing me to pay on the condition of Catherine being able to go Black Friday shopping with the trio plus two other ‘cultureless’ relatives, Abby’s words, not mine.

Cat’s puppy dog brown eyes, left me no room to refuse.

My little Muse sung various melodies on the way home. All two and a half hours of it.

Catherine was slow the next day, but happy. By Tuesday hundreds of additional songs and melodies were added to her iPod. Though she did mess up dinner for the second day in a row, it was from being too cheerfully absorbed into her studies.

I was at a loss. Low stress, exceptional focus, large smile and dried out chicken breast. I’d live. At least the salad wasn’t burnt.

...

“Catherine, take this print and run it through the CNC at Station 1. Check the measurements and if within specs, use the yellow labeled print on the metallic mold press at Station 9.”

Her eyes got big. This was the first time that she would act independently in the workshop on a real project. “Really?”

“Really. Remember Safety first.”

*Click. “Moria, do you want to make a trade?”

“Hi to you too. What is the trade?”

After listening to the Fossil describe what was needed, “I have a new shield design that would fit your revamped shuttle perfectly.” The Old Fossil added as bait.

“Damn you, you are building a new shuttle. Fine, but it will be overpowered for what you need.”

“That’s acceptable. It will save me ‘a ton’ of time. I haven’t played with a new propulsion design for a vehicle in years.”

“Admit it, mine is better.” The smirk which no one saw on Moria O’Shannan’s face was priceless.

“Easily. You are exceptional when it comes to propulsion systems. I am more of a generalist.” The old Fossil caved easily. Too easily.

“Ha. Generalist my ass. I will send a courier over later. Thanks.”

Girl, you’ve come a long way. That was a first. The world’s most powerful woman just fist pumped the air. Twice.

“Darrin.” She paged her second.

“Yes, Lady?” He acknowledged once the door was opened, allowing the tired assistant to enter.

“One; send one of your lab rats to Master Smith. Give him this. Secured Case as usual.”

“At once.” He remained for the second instruction.

“Two; As of Sunday, I do not expect to see you in the office for fifteen days. Go play and get laid somewhere. Not here. Preferably with lots of beaches and gold diggers with round heels and kneepads.”

“Lady your crassness is showing again. Did something good happen?”

“The best. I will tell you when you’ve returned all tan and Fucked. To. Death. That’s an order.”

His eyebrow raised at her jovial mood. Completely unable to go against an order, even if it’s to go on a wild splurge in the tropics somewhere and get ‘fucked’... “I suppose I have no say in this?”

“None. Fucked. To. Death. I want you tired, happy and ready to work. Silly smiles included.”

“If you insist.” He admitted he really needed a long vacation.

“And Darrin. If you extend your vacation past twenty days. I shall have your balls.”

“I understand, My Lady. Fifteen to twenty days away from the office starting Sunday. I will see about the courier.” He turned and departed in a lighter mood already.

“Kresge call security to send up an escort with a Courier Case. Package tiny. When he comes, take this chip to Smith. He will exchange it for a different one. Then return. The guard is not to leave the car once on the Smith estate for any reason. Understood?”

“Yes, Mr. Weathers,” replied the angelic looking young redhead.

“Good, when you return the case is to be placed in locker...” he glanced at his chart. “F-197. It will auto lock and there will be no key. You will be working late. Communicate with whomever you see at night.” The overworked assistant handed his young new aide the chip in question.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you for the warning.” Her boss was gruff to everyone, but considerate, if you didn’t fuck up. Those that did were supposedly gone in seconds. He had a high turnover except for one senior assistant.

“YOU!”

“YOU! What are you doing here?”

“Some welcome I get.” The two girls hugged briefly.

“Come in. Oh, you must be here from Moria. Master said a courier was coming.”

“Moria? No, Mr. Weathers sent me.”

“Oops...”

The taller, older, nineteen-year-old business major stared in shock at her new friend. “Cat. You know Lady Strife on a first name basis?”

“She and Master are friends.” Cat shrugged in apology. “She told me to call her Moria one day, since I was his student.”

“That is kinda scary. I don’t know if I would tell anyone or tell everyone if that were to happen to me. I’ve seen her a few times and she is scary, each time, Lady Strife had only spoken to Mr. Weathers and no one else when I was around.”

“Moria can be intense.”

“No kidding. That’s like saying Mt. Vesuvius was unhappy.” Both girls giggled at the imagery.

I was tempted to send a recording over to Moria just to get her reaction. Cough. “Nice to see you again Miss Kresge. May I have the container please?” She held a slim silver briefcase.

“Sorry. Here.”

“Don’t mind him, he just gets stuffy sometimes.”

I swapped out the chips. Closed the case and locked it before returning it to the young woman. “Here you go. Cat, let her be, she won’t get back to the office until after nine with traffic.”

“Sorry, Rache,”

“It’s okay. I’m low rung and get the fun jobs. See you next Friday.”

I’d have to do more to foster that relationship. Catherine was as energetic with her redheaded friend as with Colleen. Not that I understood the dynamics of her new relationship.

...

Beep. “Master you have a delivery,” came Cat’s voice from the intercom in the workshop.

“Unload the shipment in the driveway. Make sure you don’t block the cars in the garage. You can sign for it.”

“Okay.”

...

“That is a strange white metal. What is it?”

“Type 19 Titanium alloy.”

“What’s it for?”

“The body and chassis.”

“How much does a sheet weigh?”

“The 1/8^th inch slabs are about 150 the 3/8^th inch ones are a little over 450 pounds each.”

“How much is each sheet?”

“15.97$ a pound plus three hundred for delivery. Good steel is around 3$ per pound.”

“That doesn’t seem much.”

“Remember this just for the body and chassis. The components that will make it tick are the expensive part. And you will be doing all the physical cutting and molding.”

“I think I can do that. You already had me do one of each out of steel.”

“Here’s FloatyBot’s remote. Put it all in bays nineteen and twenty.”

“Yes sir, right away, sir.” I received a fake salute. Cat had been talking on the phone to Rachel again...

“What do you have for me, Lieutenant?” asked the graying commander of Stalwart. This job was turning her grey faster than she liked.

“We have two names. Klein Enterprises and Octagon.”

“Are they linked?”

“We don’t know. But both are seeking Miss Larkin. Different reasons and objectives too.”

“What have you uncovered?”

“The Octagon fears competition and loss of market share once young Larkin becomes active.”

“And Klein?”

“A Prophecy. No, we don’t know what it is. Just that there is one.”

“How did they get together?”

“A guess is that they both have spies in each other’s organizations. Someone or even both sides added two plus two equals less work. I doubt the partnership or cooperation will last past the next attempt.”

“Back off on Octagon. We know how those idiots work. They’ll probably self-destruct soon anyway. Klein can be worrisome. We don’t even know who their backers are. Keep an eye on them.”

“Yes, Colonel.”

“This room needs to be larger or you need to shower more often.”

“Thanks.” She was right. But tomorrow was her last day down here stamping out the large parts. After that, she would be in the paint Bot control room supervising the Bots in her extra time.

“Call Jacob tomorrow and have him file for both an experimental airborne vehicle N number and a road vehicle’s VIN.”

“Okay.

“Have you chosen a color scheme yet?” I asked. Catherine had been testing and playing with color schemes for weeks.

“White with Blue lettering and striping. How far have you gotten on the propulsion?”

“I am finishing the containment unit right now. The circuit boards are still in the wash cycle and need a week. The power generator is next.”

“Do you still think you will have it done before Christmas break?” she asked a bit concerned about the timing.

“We will be cutting it close.”

“Just don’t live down here, okay?”

“Promise.” I still had wiring layouts to do which would be a mess if not done correctly.

“Looks like dad is still pissed at you for stealing me for Christmas.”

“He’s known since June.”

“Doesn’t mean he isn’t pissed.”

“Thanksgiving turkey was good. And your mom shoved leftovers at us.”

“You can keep the cranberry jelly. It tastes too artificial and it’s all sugar.”

“If you insist.” I liked the sugary sweet side dish.

“I’m still worried about an attempt tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow will be safe. At least if you discount there and back. The Kresges know not to have told anyone so they should be safe. It’s a holiday. Local people don’t like to move on Thanksgiving or the day after.”

“I hope you are right. I think I ate too much, even the ping pong didn’t help.”

...

“This place is huge. I knew they were rich but six buildings? I think that one’s Rache’s place. She said she lived over the garage. But she didn’t say it was a twenty-car garage.”

I chuckled. We lived simply.

“Do I look okay?”

“You look great.”

“That’s cuz you like the stupid bondage stuff. Hope they don’t recognize it for what it is.”

“That white combo does look good on you and the silver rings accent it.”

“You don’t help.” I did like that outfit. It was the one she debuted in Vegas.

Ding♪. “You must be Smith and Catherine. You, Sir, are a braver man than I, to go shopping with those forces of nature today. Robert Kresge, call me ‘Bob’.” The fortyish man in slacks, a standard white button-down shirt and suede slippers, invited us in his home, offering his hand to each of us.

Bob led us to the mammoth kitchen. Like everything else in the fifteen thousand square foot mansion, it too was well appointed.

“Ugh, it’s too early,” complained Rachel, in jeans and red sweater, when we arrived sucking down a huge mug of coffee. “Hi, Cat, let me wake up.”

Abby, Rachel’s grandmother, slapped the girl on the back of the head which went pretty much unnoticed by the zombified teen. She then introduced the two unknowns to Cat and I. Alison, Rachel’s mom and Amber, Rachel’s cousin and Angel’s daughter. Bob, I discovered later was Rachel’s father, who presided over a ‘small’ banking consortium. The women all had similar builds and hair, 5’5”to 5’7 lean to athletic redheads with green eyes.

Since there were seven of us, we ended up taking two vehicles. The younger generation went with me in the chaser car while the older generations were driven by Abby’s chauffeur, Louis, who they planned on also dragging along to be a pack mule.

Climbing mount Everest might have been easier than following those six around for seven hours through two malls and four banks of specialty shops. The conversations ranged everywhere from schooling, to men, to investments, to clothes, not the clothes they were shopping for at the time, but styles and outfits, to music, to plays and operas, versus operettas, to automobiles, to travel. When they found out that Cat hadn’t traveled much yet. They spent a half hour rattling off suggested places to visit and not to visit.

I did receive the collective evil eye when she admitted that we were going somewhere undisclosed over Christmas for two weeks and I had the gall to not even let her know what to pack.

At the brief stop at the equestrian’s, Cat picked up a riding crop. ‘for her friend, Professor McCraken’ which earned her considering and or weighing looks from two of the elders and Amber. My straight face could have earned an Oscar and Louis played the ‘dumb help’ all day, regardless of the topic.

Later in the afternoon, Catherine admitted. “I have no idea what to get HIM. All he wears are gray suits, no tie with or without the jacket. His watch collection is obscene and his only vice is bourbon.” Which earned her even more brownie points and sympathy.

“Three months, if I have time that is. My schedule is packed right now,” was my student’s reply when asked about her leash and the ‘Test’.

Grandmother Kresge walked with me, both of us relying more on our canes by then after 2:00. Louis made himself even scarcer.

“I’ve heard talk about your girl,” the grandmother of the Kresge family began to me alone when she created some distance from the rest of the clan.

“I imagine that there is a lot of speculation over Cat.”

“I heard that she was given the position of Crystal Bishop months ago by O’Shannan.”

“I’ve heard that too, but haven’t verified it. Until Cat steps up. It’s all speculation anyway.”

“O’Shannan and you are closer than people know. That is going to come out soon.”

“Why tell me this?”

“The Project. The date moved to a May first announcement. Some of my associates are worried that she will become too powerful.”

“And you don’t agree with them?”

“She doesn’t need more power. Obtaining more would only make for greater headaches with little gain.”

“I’ve always agreed with that stance. But my exposure to the world is minimal these days.”

“That sound thing of yours will go very far. You still support her. Even after she left you.”

“Does it matter if my student lives under my roof or in a house a little down the road?”

“Teacher for a day, father for life.”

“‘Yeah’, as Cat is so fond of saying.”

“Can you arrange a quiet meeting with O’Shannan?”

“Just you?”

“And my son in law, Robert.”

*Click. “When can you stop by?” I dialed Moria who answered on the second ring.

“Happy Thanksgiving to you too, asshole.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Moria. When can you stop by?”

“Darrin is on Vacation. How about the 6^th?”

“One second. How does the 6^th sound? At my place.”

“That’s agreeable.”

“Who are you talking to?” Moria asked.

“Abigail Kresge wants your ear for a bit. Any objections?”

“None at all. Anyone else coming?”

“Her son Robert. Maybe a Grandkid, but not for you. She would be visiting Cat.”

“That’s fine, make it for noon. You can feed me.”

“I’ll let her know. And Moria, you Are taking a vacation soon, right?”

“Sixteen days in the Med. Ah, damn I got to run. See you on Sunday.”

“Noon on the sixth.”

After that, the Matriarch veered into safer topics for the next two hours. At four the gaggle of women trailed by us two hapless men were dragged into a high scale restaurant that served tiny food. Louis hid at the bar which left me to join the ladies who by then had enough ammo to shred me.

When Cat accidentally let slip, she was mainlining KWQ twice a month, the table froze.

Alison, the designated spokeswoman for serious topics started. “Catherine. KWQ is very, very dangerous.”

A certain index finger was pointed straight at me. Completely placing all the responsibility and blame in my lap. Five heads, plus a waitress and a nearby table who noticed our sudden silence all turned to look at me with stark accusation.

“Sorry, I didn’t kidnap Lindbergh’s kid.” No one smiled. “Not a topic for public, ladies.”

“Smith is right. We can grill him at home.” The table gradually picked up steam again but never returned to its complete boisterousness. The few shared bottles of wine were corked and set aside for the waitstaff to enjoy later.

“Sorry,” Cat said to me privately on the way to the cars.

“We can deal with that after we get home. Let’s see how the Kresge’s want to play this out.” Closing the door behind her, the younger generation chatted in the back seat leaving the passenger seat empty.

The eight of us sat in the drawing room. The two boys, I hadn’t met yet, were out and about. Bob was curious but held his silence when dragged into the room and told to sit by his daughter.

“Smith, would you care to explain? A single Dose of KWQ in a lifetime is considered risky by even the stoutest of souls. Two is foolishness. Catherine mentioned two a month. I have no words,” opened an irate, universal mother, which also encompassed mothering of her daughter’s friends.

“There is a mathematical formula that was developed in conjunction with the RNA additive known as KWQ.”

“I’ve heard that there are three.” countered Angelique Kresge.

“Only one true formula, the other two were calculated later by independents.”

“I’ve seen all three. There are dozens of independent floating variables in each.”

“Seventeen. Four cancel themselves out. Garfield left them in intentionally. It’s how he was able to charge five million per dose.”

“It’s still seventeen!”

“I Created a Device that can calculate eleven of them. Four are fixed. The last two I do by hand and have to redo each month for her. Someone’s eating habits could be better.”

“Jerk! Like yours are any better.”

“Catherine, please.” Alison was still in charge of the lynching.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” the wronged teen apologized, contritely.

“Smith, how accurate and precise are your measurements and calculations?” Bob spoke for the first time.

“Measurements, sixth decimal. Calculations, fifth decimal.” The family patriarch whistled in response.

“How many times have you...” He paused to word the question correctly.

“Seventy-eight.” I answered knowing what he wanted to ask.

“No issues?”

“None. Otherwise, I would never risk Catherine.” Seven pair of eyes confirmed her mental health. She shrunk further in the couch next to Rachel who also was observing her friend with curiosity. And worry.

“Would you be willing to assist my family with the use of KWQ by doing the calculations for each?”

“Robert, NO. I will not have you risk our children.”

“There are conditions and restrictions. One is complete agreement of your family. Another is Abigail’s children and children’s children only. The third is to tell no one. There will be others once you reach a consensus on those three.”

“Our family will discuss it and get back to you. It seems my wife has reservations.”

“Reservations, your ass, Robert!”

Abby stood with the use of her cane. We did walk miles today. “Thank you both for joining us shopping. It made a hectic day more pleasurable. You are welcome here anytime, child.” She patted Cat’s hand as the elder passed by the youngest of the group.

“You too Smith. Don’t let the squabbling children prevent you from visiting.” The family Matriarch wandered off, presumably to rest.

“Squabbling, your ass, mother,” mumbled Alison.

“Mother is right though, come visit anytime Catherine.” The women all hugged and played nice. The issue was far from over in the Kresge household.

Bob wholeheartedly thanked me for taking his spot as a package carrier today, with no further mention of his earlier request.

Extracting Cat took longer than my impromptu meeting but we finally managed to escape.

“How dead am I?”

“They will be finding pieces of you in Athens.” She winced. Anything related to Athens was a sure sign of impending doom.

“Sorry, it slipped when we were discussing my schooling with you.”

“It was bound to come out. We are using it too aggressively for it not to be discovered. It’s only illegal to possess. Not to use. Stupid, but intentional wording.”

“Will there be trouble for you if it gets out?”

“Not for me, for you.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘Oh’, is right.”

“Why does it seem every time we go out something bad happens.” She wasn’t asking, she was contemplating.

“It’s called growth. When you stopped yours for an overlong period, you had two options; slow or Zoom! You are zooming so all the little bumps become mountains.”

“Did I ever have a slow option?”

“MIT, locked in a lab, attending classes with watchdogs always at your heel and hiding from the world.”

“I don’t think I would like that very much,” she admitted with some courage.

“Do you like the bumpy fast lane?”

“When the bumps aren’t so hard.”

“Those are only bumps. You survived them and grew. Remember the podium?”

“How can I forget? FNN still replays that stupid press conference. It’s permanently embedded on their site.” So too, did SI.

“That was just another bump. How did the Kresges send you off?”

“Great.” She smiled. Maybe a bump or two wasn’t so bad. The growing teen opened her tablet and started reading, hoping to catch up on another day missed.

...

“Just let me sit in your lap ... Circuits I...” She exalted, mostly out of it.

The little minx fell asleep contented, minutes after her second sip of water, curled in a ball.

...

“Are you sure that this is only Circuits I? My student asked for the third time in two days. “I read the intro book over that I ordered from MIT last month and I think you started where they left off.”

“And?”

“It’s no use talking to you.”

“We are getting guests tomorrow. I might ask you to make yourself scarce for a while. If I do, go to the workshop and finish your painting.”

“Okayyy.” Something I wouldn’t tell her or let her be a part of was rare. “On the 19^th I am getting a haircut in the city, it’s way too long even with trimming. Rache set up an appointment with her hair dresser.”

“I take it that we will be meeting her there also?”

“Of course. Lunch too.”

“And how long have you known about this appointment and I am only finding out now?” I stopped eating dinner and asked softly.

“A couple days ago. You were in the workshop. Again. Wiring. Again,” she spoke her displeasure loud and clear.

“So now I am being told what to do, not asked?”

“It’s just a haircut. What’s the issue?”

Setting my fork down. Looks like its time again. “Get my chest from the den.”

“What? No. I didn’t do anything wrong. Sorry for not telling you earlier. But I forgot. Stupid Circuits and Quantum Physics at the same...”

“I did not ask for your excuses. I instructed you to get the chest. I. Am. Waiting.”

“Fine.” Stomping out of the Dining room. Cat returned minutes later with a chest that should have only taken half the time to retrieve. “Here is your stupid chest.” Bang. It thudded against the tabletop.

I hadn’t been paying close enough attention and thought that the shopping expedition with the Kresges would suffice as a sufficient stress reliever. That was my fault. Opening the chest, I retrieved the Velcro cuffs. Not giving her the choice, first left then right, followed by her turning and having them connected behind her back. “Comfie?” I disregarded her ‘NO’, along with her other protests this morning. The short chain allowed me to ratchet up her cuffs through the very rarely used tiny stitched hoop in the back of Cat’s collar. “Hey that hurts.” Slapping her ass. “Quit fighting. The only one hurting you right now is you.” She didn’t listen. I didn’t go much further though.

The fabric sheers went through her blouse like paper just as they did through her tight shorts. That too was accompanied by protests. Neither her bra nor panties were spared either.

Two matching unconnected Velcro cuffs were added to her ankles. Pet’s tone was slowly changing from demanding through pleading to worried. After leading the quieting teen up the stairs to the Optics room and inside, I closed the door and went down the hall to a previously unopened ‘Play Room’. With the aid of a mini floating Bot, I was able to tow the large wooden frame to her dressing room and inside the Optics room. Protests began anew once she recognized it for what it was. She had been spending more of her free time of late discovering bondage sites. As her curiosity grew so did her interest.

Lifting and bending her face first into the padded, fitted, frame. I uncuffed her hands, one at a time, and inserted them into the openings specifically made for them. I then reattached the cuffs, preventing her from withdrawing her wrists from the padded stocks. I set the angle so she stood at a forty-five-degrees.

The ankles were next with the added three-foot separator.

The soft leather paddle caused a ‘Yelp’ followed by more and more, even past the crying point. Her ass and upper thighs were bright red. “Open your eyes. You have become insufferable the last few days. I have said that it would be easier on you if you just told me that you needed help. Looks like you need a firmer lesson.”

Shaking her head, “NO. Sorry. I’ll tell you sooner next time. I promise.” I administered five more spanks for the obvious lie. Exiting and reentering the mirrored room, I returned with a new instrument. “Do you know what this is?”

“NOO. Please don’t.”

“That was not my question. Do you know what this is Pet?” A sharp crack against her ass caused a jump and a shout. More noise than pain.

“A cane. It’s a cane. Please ... I’ll do anything you say.” Her vaunted intelligence vanished at that point.

Carefully, I placed the five cane marks spaced evenly up and down her pert tight ass and upper thighs. She began crying at the first one and continued through all five strokes. The welts would last for days but that was it.

A new flogger was brought out, a cross between the thirty-strand suede and a horsehair. After I repositioned my belligerent student, with her now standing completely erect, I adjusted the height so that she could remain flat footed. Looking her over, my Pet was in misery and her leash hung listlessly.

“I have another new toy to try out. Tomorrow I expect a full evaluation on all of my new toys. Understand Pet?”