I told you the next post was coming soon! This one is light on commentary because I want to push through to the next few chapters ASAP. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.
When we left Linda, she had just agreed to sell out her former compatriots to The Man (lol). She begins her first session.
“I need to remind you all that this is being recorded. The recording, and everything that we will discuss in this meeting, will be classified as Top Secret. Linda, for the purposes of this interrogation, we need you to address us by our titles. I’m Lieutenant Commander Casey Jones; Commander will do.”
“I’m Captain Zachary Taylor – Captain.” Chuck added. “USMC.”
“Thank you for not adding the Men’s Department line,” Casey muttered.
“Professor Edward Jenner – ‘Professor’ will do for me,” Dr. Jenner added.
“And I am Doctor Robin Landry. ‘Doctor’ is enough.”
Then Casey pulled a thin wallet out of his pocket, opened it and showed it to Linda. There was an ID card, showing Casey in Navy dress whites with an officer’s epaulets, and a silver badge. “I am Lieutenant Commander Casey Jones, Judge Advocate General, U.S. Navy. I am an officer of the Court under the Uniform Military Code of Justice, and as such I am swearing you in. Dr. Linda Mayhugh, raise your right hand … Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
Shit’s about to go down! Except not really, because the scene fades to black after getting all the cool naval court stuff out of the way.
The interrogation went on all day, and all four of the men stayed put. Soupy brought in a tray of sandwiches at noon, and five dinner trays at suppertime; Linda got the last, but there was no other bullshit about her “inferior” status.
How kind of them. Almost makes up for that whole sex slave thing.
When they finish, Linda goes to bed with Doc Jenner – she doesn’t want to sleep alone tonight, and the men refuse to let her back into general population till the interrogations are over.
“I’m just curious to know. What might have prompted your change of heart?”
She looked startled – and anxious – and then very, very melancholy. Her head drooped. “It’s just … things … that have been happening here. I’d expected horrors, pain, anguish – I don’t know. I’d expected hatefulness, contempt, punishment and disgust. I expected everything bad the Sisterhood has told ourselves about patriarchy, squared and cubed, with all of it unleashed and used to attack me and devour me.
“And at first, Master -”
“Professor.” (Why had he said that? he wondered.)
“At first, Professor, that’s what I got. I remember the way you acted when I was brought up here to your office, the first day. What you said frightened me – but more deeply, it shook my old feelings about the Project. In fact it shattered them – and my self-image.
“I had more shocks like that. I was whipped – and knew I deserved it. I’d never even been spanked before. But then the Master who whipped me taught me why he’d done it – and taught me more, so much more, of how to get along here on the Station.” She shuddered. “And he showed me that I could earn forgiveness, because I found I could forgive him for whipping me – because I knew I’d earned a whipping, and he forgave me for my mistake that had earned it.”
This whole section has some weird religious undertones.
To round out the creepiness, Doc straps Linda into the rape bed (remember that little plot point?), then settles down for a quiet night. But Linda has other plans…
His smile turned to startlement as her hand moved … her head moved … her lips brushed … as she gently, softly went where no woman had gone for years. But she was not predatory about it; she was gentle and soft, and even in such intimacy, somehow respectful. As if it were an honor for her to do this for him. She was sweet, she was young, she was ripe and firm, and she was compliant, not insistent. She opened herself to him like a flower. And after what she’d started, and he continued, and they’d finished together, he felt younger, and stronger, and much happier, than he’d ever felt since before his divorce.
Maybe these comfort girls had a greater value than he’d assigned them, that only of lab-animals for his long-term experiment.
“We can use these sex slaves… for sex!”
The next few days pass in a blur. Linda has a roaring time with the boys as she sells out the last free women on the planet, but sadly, all good things must come to an end.
“Linda, you’ve spent the last three days spilling your guts. We don’t really know how much the other girls know about you. YOU don’t know, do you really?”
She pondered. She was worried, herself. She knew herself as vulnerable, now; “Strong, Independent Woman” was an artifact of the past, as obsolete as a wind-up watch. Any two girls could overwhelm her; they could kill her. “No, Master Casey, I don’t.”
“Up topside, we’d put a source like you in a witness-protection program,” said Sharky. “But you’re down here. That makes you safe as possible from anyone topside, but you might not be safe from the girls down here. They might guess you’ve been singing. So we’ve got to give you cover, airtight cover. We’ve got to make it absolutely clear that anything you gave us, you gave us under duress. Overwhelming duress.”
Or maybe they could just not tell the sex slaves who have no contact with the outside world about their plans to eliminate radical feminist cells?
“The best thing would be if we waterboard you,” Casey finished.
… I guess that works too.
“That’s torture, Master! Please, no!”
“No it isn’t,” Casey said.
“But they classed it as torture, under Obama,” said Sharky.
You see, there’s a difference between torture and torture torture, just like there’s a difference between rape and rape rape.
“Your leads, your sock-puppets, and your alternate IDs, are going to help a lot. But … we need you to know how it feels to be waterboarded; just this once. So that when you tell the other girls about it, what you say will have the ring of truth. And it’s cover for you, too, when you talk about being ‘tortured’ this way. If anything comes out, they’ll be sure you were cracked. Nobody will know that you volunteered.”
“I’ll be with you,” Casey assured her. “I’ll make sure you’re okay. The moment I see you’ve lost consciousness, I’ll grab the blanket off your face. That’s not being a White Knight,” he said hastily. “That’s being a fellow warrior.”
Well, so long as you’re not being a mangina about the whole thing, it’s all good! Linda agrees to the waterboarding.
Casey and Sharky laced her onto the board. She could hardly move a muscle; certainly she couldn’t free herself. Casey reached for a folded, thick wet blanket. “You’ve got to feel the panic,” he said, “you’ve got to feel yourself go out, but we’ll bring you right back. Deep breath, now.” He put the thick, wet blanket over her face.
She held her breath as long as she could, then she had to let it go. She couldn’t get it back. She couldn’t gasp. She couldn’t breathe. She struggled. She panicked. Really panicked. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even cry out, her lungs were empty. Her head swirled, she struggled, she tried to scream, but there was no breath in her lungs to even squeak….
And then it’s over. Really, I’m disappointed. Considering how hard Rick had to lean on our suspension of disbelief to get a waterboard into the story, you’d think he’d spend a little longer describing it. Not a single mention of heaving breasts or Linda struggling to suppress her gag reflex! It’s almost like this isn’t porn.
Sharky unlaced her arms, looking at them critically. “I think you may have bruised your wrists struggling. Maybe your elbows, too. It might sound funny for me to say it, but that’s a good thing – for your story.”
… he said, trying to conceal his massive erection.
Casey helped her sit up, then stand up. Her knees were a little weak, but her head was straightening out quickly. “You did just fine, Linda. That was brave of you, woman.” And Linda cried, sobbing, on his shoulder. Dr. Jenner, and Dr. Landry, patted her shoulder as they left the room.
And so the chapter ends.
We’ve seen Linda go through a lot these last few chapters. You might be thinking that our friend Rick’s running out of ideas by now… but guess again! There’s still 31 chapters left. I haven’t read the book all the way to the end yet (even I have my limits), but I can tell you right now that the weird shit hasn’t even begun.
Don’t take my word for it, though! Keep an eye out for the next post, which will hit your monitors sometime before Christmas (pinky promise). TTFN!