Chapter 7: A Busy Week

I spent the next week smuggling lab reports, notes, and schematics out of the lab and into my garage. I didn't have time to read through everything so I skimmed everything looking for more clues about the MC Device. Trying to identify the focal point of each investigation was impossible. I was amazed at the breadth of the lab's researches and the sheer number of projects that had run concurrently. Every conceivable area was included: mind control, time travel, fantastic weapons of destruction, and various occult topics. The reasons for these inquiries were unclear but the fact that there had been results was undeniable. I was able to smuggle several schematics out of the lab in addition to the prototype MC Device I had retrieved earlier. Soon, my small apartment was crowded with piles of bound reports and notebooks and tubes of diagrams and blueprints. The lab reports often held false trails, some seemed deliberate, that caused me to study the reports into the wee hours of the morning.

One Saturday morning I lay dazed on my cheap, ratty couch. My brain was fried from the stress of weeding through the voluminous library in the lab, getting the material out of the bunker, and trying to make sense of the techno-occult lab reports. I was roused by a light knock on the door. Struggling off the couch, I stumbled through the mess to the door. Opening the door I saw Lucy standing on the doorstep, nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

I invited her in, wondering what would cause her to come up this early in the morning. She had never visited me, either before or after our incredible afternoon. I had been too busy to choreograph another session so we had confined our social interaction to greetings in the parking lot. Playing the host, I made myself busy offering her a place to sit and a drink. At the same time I tried to chase the image of her begging Kaitlyn to make her come from my mind. I was shocked when she mentioned, in a small voice, her last visit to my apartment.

Until that moment, I had not realized that she could remember what had happened while she was under my control. It had never dawned on me that I had left my "victims'" memories intact, recording the details of their actions.

Other details crystallized. I had briefly wondered if Francine had been avoiding me at work but I had been too busy to pay attention. Kaitlyn had left noisily earlier that week. Was this backlash from the lowered inhibitions? When Lucy spoke frankly about her embarrassment, I realized that I was holding my breath. Seeing her, so vulnerable and open, I felt close to her. I admitted to having been consumed by work the last week but apologized for not calling or taking the time to talk with her. I confessed that our passionate encounter had been spur of the moment but that I hadn't meant to hurt her. All of this was true, I told myself. I had only omitted what had instigated the encounter, my MC Device.

Not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable in my messy apartment, we went on a picnic. Lying on the warm grass, she spoke openly to me while I told half-truths to hide what I knew. I felt like an A-1 heel. I had sifted through this woman's most intimate memories and desires, all so that I could manipulate her into my bed. I had touched her soul for selfish, base reasons and now I winced with regret.

The afternoon progressed in sensitive conversation with Lucy. Her visit ended with another amazing sexual encounter, this one without the need of "the necklace." She kissed me farewell and went back to her apartment, every twitch of her hips promising more delights in what they had now established as a purely physical, but friendly and honest relationship.