Seventy-three: Lost and found (MATURE THEMES)

Kiran often couldn't keep his hands off me during the night. He'd massage and feel me over, warm my body up until I began to respond to his fingers. He never let me reach orgasm though. He'd stop abruptly and jerk himself off, spraying me when he was done. Then he'd start again.

I got used to his kisses and learnt how to somewhat reply despite my half asleep state. Not being able to fully wake up, perhaps my body was more honest than my head was. His body was perfect after all. He trained my body to become sensitive to his touch and seemed pleased when I seemed hungry for his fingers to reach deep inside me.

"You are mine," he reminded me. "You'll fall in love with me sooner or later."

He frustrated me though. He refused to ever allow me to be satisfied, especially since I still constantly refused him entry.

Other times, I was left alone with Dr Eisor. I don't know what he did to me, but he could make me wet with just a few moves. Then he would snigger while he used his fingers to send me flying. It got to the point that sometimes I thought I was addicted to his fingers.

There was one instance where I woke up to find Dr Eisor sponge washing me, while he sang a sad love song and told me the story of how his only daughter died in his arms after a horse riding accident. I'm pretty sure that was a dream or a hallucination. It likely didn't really happen. It was hard to tell sometimes what was a dream and what was reality. The two blended together so well.

That is, until there was a terrible bang and smoke filled the room. There was gun fire and crashing and shouting and screaming, while I lay there, attached to a drip and coughing. Perhaps it was finally time to die.

"There's a sick girl here," a soldier called, bending over to look at me. I didn't smile. Soldiers weren't exactly people I wanted to see. The soldier tried to smile and talk to me, but I closed my eyes. He gave up. "She's got a drip in her arm. What do you want me to do?"

"Get the Corp to carry her out. Get your butt over here when you're done there."

I hoped Kiran was okay and didn't get caught or injured.

Some people lifted me onto a stretcher and put the IV bag beside me. They ran me out and down stairs into a waiting vehicle that zoomed me away amidst gunfire and explosions.

What an exit, was the thought in my head, but at the same time I just knew there was a bomb or bullet or something that would appear out of nowhere and end my life there and then.

Under a white ceiling, doctor and nurses puzzled over the contents of the IV bag. They called Dr Eisor names, since they didn't know his real name.

"What idiot imbecile of a doctor do they have over there? Why's he got the girl on so many addictive drugs for no reason? Is he trying to kill her or destroy her brain function? Brain scans show signs of recent seizures and maybe he's trying to wean her off the drugs, but who put her on this mess in the first place and where did she go to get all these drugs anyway? These aren't drugs that are easily accessible anymore because of the war. What idiot of a doctor did this?"

"His name is Dr Eisor," said a familiar dry voice, "and he is their leading medical research specialist in drugs that alter a person's perception and makes them more susceptible to suggestion, if you catch my meaning."

"They were trying to brainwash her?"

"Highly likely, amongst other things. They were trying to prevent her from trying to escape and from thinking clearly. Dr Eisor also happens to be what they call the Slave Master. He is the head disciplinarian of the Bosky State for anyone in the slave class. I believe he has been conducting a lot of unethical research on the people of their slave class. Their leader, Chief-in-Waiting Kiran of Stonehurst, wants to marry her. Miss Wallace herself is not so keen and is more interested in finding somewhere safe to hide until the war finishes. Considering she was a flight risk, the doctor wanted to prevent her from running far, although Kiran himself is strongly against the idea. Still, at least they didn't kill her when she helped me escape. I'm just sorry she had to be involved. What's that on her wrist?" Mr Raring's dry voice said.

"We think it's a wanderer's bracelet or tracker of some sort."

"That would be about right. Don't let anyone cut it off or who knows what Kiran might do. I have a feeling he might go beserk if he loses track of the girl. It's best if she doesn't stay here. Wherever she is and wherever she goes, because of the bracelet, may possibly become a Bosky target. Can she be returned to the Compound with sufficient dosages to wean her off all that? The Compound will still be the safest place for her and the best place for us to defend against any Bosky attacks."

"We'll have to do some calculations to get the dosages right and someone will need to check on her often, but I think it should be all right."

A dry hand brushed my cheek and moist grey eyes looked into mine. He was a familiar face I could give a little smile to. I grasped the hand that took mine and for a moment remembered Kiran had a message he wanted me to deliver, but I couldn't remember it.

"What is it, Jean? You have something you want to tell me?"

I nodded, but couldn't find the right words or the right memory to tell him.

"Take your time," Mr Raring sat on the chair by my bed.

"Alistair," hissed Mr Cooper's voice. "We have to go."

"She has information she has to tell us, but she can't get it out," Mr Raring said. "Go away, Bevan. Let her concentrate. She hasn't had an easy time amongst the Boskies."

"Hurry up," was the curt reply.

"Now," Mr Raring told me. "Take your time and tell me what you need to."

The memory and words only came to me in scattered bits and pieces.

"The war," I said, slurring my words and sounding, oh stuff it all, like a drug addict. "Kiran. Stop."

Mr Raring thought hard, frowning and hunching his back and neck like a vulture.

"Kiran said something about stopping the war?" he asked.

I nodded, feeling my eyes lighting up as he helped me string things together.

"To stop," I said, scrunching my face up in concentration, trying to recall what Kiran had said while my brain had been so scrambled. It was better now, but still scrambled enough that it was hard to speak. "War. Give. Land. City. Here. Bosky. Only. Want."

"The Boskies are willing to stop the war if the land and this city are handed over to them?" Mr Raring shook his head. "That's not going to happen. It's almost half our country, plus our second most major city."

"Kiran. Said. Safety. Civ-il-i-ans," my, but that word was difficult to say. "Soldiers. Give. Land."

"Yes, I know," said Mr Raring in a voice drier than usual, "unfortunately, our Government refuses to agree to those terms. They say the lands haven't been Bosky lands for hundreds of years and so it shouldn't matter anymore. Okay, thanks for delivering the message, Jean. When you get back to the Compound, you should be pleasantly surprised. It's changed and it's a much more pleasant environment to live in now. You'll like it a lot better."

"A-alis-tair," I said when he turned to go. "Wait."

"There's more?" he asked with a smile in his eyes. "I do believe, Jean, that that is the first time you have called me by my first name. I have to go, but what else is it that you have to tell me?"

I tapped the watch/bracelet thing on my wrist.

"Bomb. Where. People. Think. Safe."

"There's a timed bomb to go off where people think it's safe?"

I nodded and then shook my head in frustration. The slowness of my speech was not helping.

"If cut," I tapped the bracelet again. "Bomb ex-plode. Where. People. Think. Safe."

"If the bracelet is cut, a bomb will go off where people think it's safe," Mr Raring repeated after me and smiled when I nodded. "We'll get people to look at the bracelet you're wearing and see if we can figure out where it is sending its signal to. I'll get people searching for the bomb too. Is that all?"

"One more," I gestured a shaky finger between the two of us. "Secrets. Safe?"

"Yes," Mr Raring gave a wide smile. "Your secrets are safe with me. Don't you worry. We may be using you as bait again, but we will definitely be doing our best to keep you safe and out of Bosky hands. I don't want Dr Eisor getting his hands on you again. That man makes me nervous. I'll see you another day. Stay safe."

"You. Too."