7-28-05, 11:18 am
Vida cringed at the thought of “wearing” Hank again, but he was never late. As 2 p.m. drew near, she felt the usual uneasiness twisting her abdomen. Sharing his energy left her feeling spent and infected. His perversions were a rancid fog that lingered on her mind.
Sometimes, even an hour after she’d merged with him, she caught herself unwittingly repeating his catch phrases and gesturing like him. Shadows of violent thoughts slid through the door of her mind and took a seat, dark clouds obscuring her naturally sunny and gentle energy.
The searchers hadn’t mentioned the side effects of merging that day they came strolling into the bar where she told fortunes in the back room, offering her another way to get water and food. “Unusual brain activity….” they scanned her. They scornfully brushed the alley dust off their black suits. Said their sensors indicated she was perfect for the new ‘project’ – entertainment through enhanced and intense mental stimulation. Holograms were becoming obsolete. Said she would be an ‘entertainer’ of sorts, a weaver of fantasies, with the help of the machine.
Vida had decided to take the chance. She’d never been really good at anything except instinctively sensing what other people were feeling and even experiencing their emotions with them. She considered it more of a handicap than anything else. Now her heart sank again when she realized that merging too was a challenge for her. The burden of wearing certain clients’ energies after she dreamed with them was incredible. And, some, like Hank, lingered unpleasantly longer than others. There were days when the shared memories simultaneously repulsed and enticed her, and she wasn’t sure which feeling she could really claim as her own. Steve, for example, had her whip him until he writhed in his own blood, moaning with pleasure—much more pain than he could stand in the waking world. Vida normally hated the sight of blood, but during the merging, its smell, coupled with her domination of him, aroused her and made her want to draw more. She resisted these feelings, knowing that they weren’t hers, knowing that she opposed causing another pain.
She twirled the headset in her right hand, contemplating how much longer she could handle it. It had only been six months but she was tired. She’d left her mother there, thirsty and worn on the other side of the desert, with the promise she’d return with enough credits to improve her condition. She would be all right, working in the bar, at least for a little while. Her wrinkled smile and wave goodbye as Vida set out for the long journey to the city was the only warm blanket in this cold white room. She hadn’t seen her mother since that day. Hadn’t heard from her all month. Hank saw to that. Vida was now sure of it. She should have returned one of her messages by now.
“Veeedaaa…..” She was startled by the grainy tenor voice on the intercom, accompanied by an obnoxious banging on the glass partition in front of her. It caused the image of the waterfall and lake that had been playing as wallpaper to freeze for a moment. “I’m waiting….” There was anger on the edge of his voice, although he feigned sounding sweet.
“Hank,” she thought as she sighed loudly and walked over to the partition, her white vinyl jumpsuit squeaking backup rhythms to the silent percussion of her swaying hips. She placed a hand on the center of the glass and the images slid to the bottom of the screen and vanished as if the plug had been pulled out of the lake.
There he stood, tall and cocksure, sweeping his brown hair away from his eyes as he loosened his tie. He was agitated today, which meant he’d spin a particularly sadistic fantasy and she’d have to be a cast member in the performance.
“You’re early,” Vida said quietly in her lilting voice. She chuckled nervously and gritted her teeth to force out a smile as she placed the headset on her head. “Would you like some music to relax? Or perhaps I can turn on the blue light…” She was stalling.
“Get the led outta ya ass honey. I ain’t got all day.” Hank spat as he smirked and shook his head. He hoisted his large frame onto the silver recliner, and began to unfasten his belt.
Vida turned away quickly and started punching the buttons on the wall console behind her. The machine greatly enhanced the telekinetic experience by unifying brain patterns to create an unnatural singularity of thought. It induced a waking dream state for a marked period of time. Physical evidence of arousal, or pain, was often evident after the fantasy ended. Hank thought he might as well get comfortable. He also got a thrill out of exposing himself to Vida. He found her squeamishness refreshing.
“I was w-wondering,” she hedged, “if you’d gotten any messages for me from the Valley. It’s weeks since I’ve heard from…umm, have you heard anything?” She bit her lip anxiously trying not to look behind her. This wasn’t the first time she’d asked him about word from her mother.
Hank, part owner in the company that created the machine, had handpicked her for her ‘exotic look’ – dark hair and eyes, full hips. He had often offered to deliver her message chips himself, just to be near her, but he hadn’t brought anything back, although his visits became more frequent. He could tell she wouldn’t last as a pleasurer though; she too often resisted total merging, fearing to succumb completely to the fantasy. But he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. Her trepidation and gentleness posed a challenge, and he liked a challenge. It allowed him to more easily control the fantasy.
Hank placed his head set on and exhaled loudly “Humph…I swear, you ‘mads are so ungrateful. I mean here you are, enjoying all the comforts you never had in that dusty shack in the Valley, and all you bug me about is if you have messages from there.” She could feel his icy hazel eyes burning a hole in her back. His tone was an indifferent yawn. “Would you rather work in the hydrating plant? It’s your type that’s costing me so much money as a matter of fact. Bloody nomads. People want water. They want these hydrators to work, then they gotta work, not just sit around…You should thank me that you’re not out there.” Vida ignored his rambling. She wasn’t going to get anywhere with him. For all she knew, her mother was dead. This summer was hotter than most and water was always scarce. As nomads, they’d been used to finding water, but the new regime restricted movement and tightly controlled what little water there was. Vida pushed her pssimism into the pit of her stomach and tried to get on with her job.
“We are ready,” she said maintaining her plastic smile. She walked over to her chair, reclined and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She focused on Hank. His body quickly went limp as he slipped into the sleeping state. Vida’s head was flooded with the noise of his mind. Large, rusty hydrating machines clanked ….opressive heat hung heavy in the air…. acrid sweat of the workers filled the room…”you’re fired!” a voice rose above the belligerent throng that seemed to always be grumbling in Hank’s mind. It was the vibration of anger, each thought fighting the others to be heard.
Joining minds was often like waiting for dust to settle at first. Sights, sounds, and smells not her own flooded Vida’s mind senses. Scenes from her own mind fought their way in, but she knew they had no place here, not now. Yet her mother’s warm countenance flashed before her, more vividly than usual. Each wrinkle on her copper face told a story of struggle. They sat together on the old wood porch in the brilliant morning light, watching dust devils whip across the expanse of barren land. The silver structures of the city in the distance were blinding in the sun. Her mother smiled and touched her face. Then, as if someone doused the sun, all went black. An intense damp cold shot through Vida’s body.
Hank was now privy to her thoughts. They were connected, wading through each other’s minds, being pulled onto the same point by the machine. They were in a place he conjured up, a dank and musty concrete room that seemed like the cellar or basement of a castle. Gradually, two large red candles appeared on either side of Vida, dimly lighting the stone room. She realized she was naked and trapped spread eagle to a concrete slab. Hank’s naked figure slowly emerged from the darkness, his broad chest heaving with arousal. Sweat glistened on his brow. A storm howled mournfully outside of the room and she could hear the rain eating against the wall.
Vida hated being restrained. This sensation didn’t easily diminish during the mergings. But Hank’s drug was power and control. This was his fantasy. He knew she was modest and took sadistic pleasure in humiliating her. He also knew she wouldn’t fight. This was her job after all. He would often make it rain in his fantasies as well—a symbol that he, like his colleagues, controlled the water, could make it rain or allow the poor to die of thirst.
He leaned over her and stroked her hair. The air from his nostrils was stale liquor and cigars and Vida turned away scornfully. He grabbed her face. “Look at me!” he growled through clenched teeth. She obliged him, trying to ease into the scenario, remembering that soon, she would have enough credits to leave this place forever.
Hank willed each of his fingers to cut like a sharp blade. He quickly ran an index finger across her stomach, causing her to flinch. The blood slowly trickled into her navel. She ignored the stinging sensation and tried to relax but she just couldn’t. The chill of the room was pervasive. As he ran is tongue along her stomach, Vida felt nauseous. He sensed her discomfort and sliced her again under her breast with his left hand, smiling widely. Her body jerked. He laughed as the thunder clapped loudly outside.
“V, come see me….I’m tired,” a woman’s cracking voice blew like warm air through the room. Vida widened her eyes nervously. Had she brought her mother’s memory here, something she’d managed to avoid in the past when she was with clients? She glanced furtively at Hank, hoping he’d be too wrapped up in his own lust to notice or care.
He stood up abruptly and his eyes turned from hazel to red, like hot embers. “Who was that?” he demanded. He grabbed Vida’s thick black ponytail and shook her head. The leather restraints tightened by themselves around her wrists and ankles.
“V….it’s so hot here. When will you come see me?” She heard the faint clanking of machinery. “My hands are tired. I will soon need to sleep…” Her mother’s plaintive voice grew louder. Something must be wrong. Or was her homesickness just taking control of her mind?
Hank was fuming now. “Oh…” he shook his head and stared intensely at Vida. “That bitch! How dare you bring her here! You ungrateful whore.” His voice landed like thunder in her ears. “I should have left you in that alley.” Vida squirmed uncomfortably. “You’re a terrible pleasurer are you. I only keep you here out of pity.”
Their time was not up, so the machine would keep their brain patterns locked together. Hank had always insisted they be alone during their sessions, so no one was there to monitor the machine or be privy to his perversions. And no one dared argue with the boss.
Although the actual time passing was no more than a few minutes, time was perceived differently on the dream plane. There was no escape unless one of their vital signs became unstable and the link severed automatically, one of the kinks the creators of the technology hadn’t fully worked out.
Vida noticed the cinder block walls of the room beginning to vanish, revealing a tar black night sky. The chilly wind assaulted her naked body, covered with goose bumps. Hank now sat in a plush leather chair in front of her, fully dressed in an expensive gray suit. He leisurely examined his manicured hand with his head tilted to one side. He remained dry as the rain doused her. “You gonna have to pay Vida. I don’t appreciate my time being wasted.” He looked at her under knitted brows. “…such a weak mind,” he said shaking his head.
Now Vida was suspended in midair. Her restraints weren’t visible, but she was still unable to move. The cold rain beat heavily on her naked body. She struggled to take control of the scenario but Hank’s will was strong, and her mind was scattered after hearing her mother’s voice. She was unsure of herself, and filled with new concern about her mother’s condition, wondering if she was already dead.
One by one, the raindrops grew hotter. They seared her skin like acid, but she didn’t bleed. “Stop this Hank!” she pleaded loudly. She’d never dare challenge him before. The burning sensation was merely unpleasant now, but growing hotter by the minute. Sensations here could seem more real than reality itself, which was the whole appeal of the merging.
“Oh, she has a voice?” he laughed. “ I will not ‘stop it.’ You need to show some gratitude.….So did your mother as a matter of fact.” Hank smiled devilishly at Vida, who raised her head and glared at him angrily, ignoring her now burning skin. Her muscles became quivered and she grunted, trying to focus her mind and gain control. Panic washed over her as she wondered what Hank had done. He sensed her fear and it excited him even more.
“But the old lady’s learning her lesson now. Earning her keep through real work, not bullshit fortune telling,” he said dryly. “Who said old people couldn’t work the hydrating machines? I’d say she’s got a month or two left in her old body before we turn her out to rot.” He let out a low chuckle. “Efficiency’s the name of the game sweetheart. Can’t afford to slow down production.”
Vida’s blood began to boil. She could feel herself beginning to wriggle free from Hank’s restraints. She managed to spin herself upright but still couldn’t move freely. The rain was searing her now, but she ignored the pain and looked Hank squarely in the eyes. He raised his brows in surprise and delight. He would have more fun breaking her now.
“Factory?” Vida gasped, water dripping from her lips. “I left her in the bar….”
“Oh, the bar…yes, your former ‘career,’” Hank walked over to her and brushed the damp hair away from her eyes, his face close to hers. She now breathed heavily as the burning raindrops stung her face. “Well, we just had to tear it down. It was the perfect location for my new hydrating factory. And those losers could use the work. Another reason you should thank me for bringing you here. Do you think you’d last a day in the factories? The old lady, though, she’s tough. But then again, we all have our limits, don’t we? The desert isn’t merciful, but when it’s your time, it’s just your time. Right?” He planted a slimy kiss on her quivering lips.
Vida knew they cast out workers who they felt inefficient, after taking away their means of supporting themselves, and left them to the elements. The young and strong found ways to survive, but her mother would not last.
Her head dropped limply. Hank began groping her breasts roughly. Hot tears tumbled down her cheeks. She felt a hurricane of rage rising in her chest, a hatred she’d never allowed herself to feel before, especially not around someone like Hank, for whom these feelings were second nature. She didn’t like swimming in his sea of anger, lust. It made her feel dirty. She’d always thought herself better than allowing herself to be tainted by those emotions. She would never thrive on hurting another.
But Hank’s words blew a chasm into her heart. For the first time, she drank in the anger greedily. There was no other sensation left in her. She let the heat course through her veins, let Hank’s nature mingle with hers freely, feeding the growing beast. Sensing the similarity of energy they shared, he became more aroused. His suit vanished. He held her wrists tightly and pressed his chest against hers. There was nothing between them but the spiraling heat.
Then, the rain stopped. Vida and Hank sat in a small garden side pool, surrounded by chocolates and champagne, relics of a world long gone. Violins played themselves quietly. Hank looked around a bit surprised that Vida had brought him here. She had never taken that initiative before.
“Well, this is finally getting interesting,” he said as he picked up a lit cigar in the ashtray next to the pool and took a few puffs. He stretched his arms out along the pool’s edges. “I’m glad you decided to get with the program. Now, was that so hard? You can enjoy this, once you stop resisting.”
Vida sat opposite him in a bronze bikini. Her raven hair was pulled neatly into a bun on the top of her head. She sipped on a narrow glass of champagne and stared at Hank. “You’re right,” she purred as she slowly stepped out of the pool, walking seductively around him. She began to pour him a glass of champagne. Hank looked at her lustfully. “I can enjoy this,” she said, smiling. Hank, in midpuff, looked startled. The pool’s water began to bubble and give off steam.
“Veeedaaa….what are you doing?” he asked, “this water’s getting too hot. God damn it…What the hell is wrong with you...you stupid…?” He tried to get up but could not move.
Vida strutted to his side of the pool, crouching to look in his eyes.
“Something wrong Hank?” she said with a straight face. The water began to bubble violently. Hank shrieked in pain.
“V, I have dinner waiting for you….Hurry up now…” her mother’s voice called from the distance. She looked behind her to see the alleyway of her old neighborhood blanketed with the rose hues of the setting sun. Her mother stood at the end smiling, desert winds blowing her long, white dress. “What tha fuck are you doing?! Stop this right now! I’ll get rid of you. What will you do then? You can’t DO anything right, you worthless street rat!...aaaahh!” Hank shrieked with pain.
She let his panic and fear shoot through her like electricity, energizing her, tickling her senses. “This is what he fed on. Curious sensation. Intoxicating even,” Vida thought to herself. She’d never wanted to be like her clients, but there was a satisfaction in this. Justice really.
“Vida....” his last sound was a hoarse whimper. Hank’s face turned red and his body convulsed. She sipped her champagne calmly and watched his tomato red body go limp and sink to the bottom of the pool.
Vida opened her eyes and removed her head set. The program had terminated. She felt her face quickly, wondering if the burning rain had disfigured her. Of course it hadn’t. Hank’s limp body lay slumped in the recliner on the other side of the partition. Blood ran from his nose and onto his shirt. Saliva slid down the side of his frothing mouth. She felt an odd sense of calm as she walked over to him to get a closer look. The blood didn’t bother her now.
Vida glanced at the clock. 2:15. Still time to catch a convoy into the Valley. Credits seemed less important now. She had close to nothing, but she knew somehow she would be okay. She walked over the wall on the opposite side of the room, which was also a floor-length mirror.
She could still feel Hank’s rage in the front of her mind, as she stared at her face. But she wasn’t eager for the energy to dissipate like she usually was. She let it flow freely through her like a wave, instead of uncomfortably wearing it and scorning its presence. She owned it. It was her right, and she could redirect it for her own purposes. She was sure of that now. For the first time, she saw strength in her empathy, her sensitivity.
She placed her palm on the mirror and a transparent hole began to open. Vida squinted at the blinding sunlight that flooded in. The endless sea of solar panels stretched for miles before her. She grabbed her bag and decided to head for the Valley and never looked back.
