Harsh Lessons (19 page)

There was a pause.  A long pause.  Abruptly, the door clicked and slid open.  'All right, then.  Come through into my lab.'

As they stepped into a harshly white room of stark furniture and trideo machines, and benches of expensive-looking equipment that neither guest could recognize, Harmon sub-vocalized his angry instructions. 
«
You are to convince him you don't want to kill him, and that you're no longer angry.  You will pretend you were in the wrong.  Dammit, Leeth, if you can't do even this, what sort of spy will you make?
»
 
He sensed her still resisting, probing for loopholes in his control.  Why couldn't she simply
trust
him?  The wave of sudden anger was overpowering. 
«
You will do whatever it takes to convince him you like him!
»

An inner door opened.  'Well, don't just stand there like two borked bots.'

With a massive effort, Harmon smoothed his expression and turned, following the voice into the adjacent room.  'Ah, Nelson, thank you for letting my young ward apologize in person.'

Nelson sat behind a long bench covered in electronic components, data jacks and optic cables.  The only clear space was directly in front of him.  Concealed from the others' view, he quietly slid the safety catch off as he checked the video feed to Father.  Even now, Dojo would be on his way, to wait right outside in case he was needed.

Harmon and Nelson faced one another across the workbench.  Leeth waited, further back, still in the other room.

'Well?  What's she waiting for?'

Leeth stepped hesitantly into the doorway.  She’d recognized the quiet sound.  She took another tentative step forward, seeing the expected twitch of the arm that must be holding the gun.  Looking down, she counted to three to compose her face into an expression of regret, then looked back up and into his eyes.

'I'm sorry, Nelson.  I'm sorry I attacked you and frightened you.  It was just that I was confused, and angry.  It was wrong of me.'  She stepped further into the lab.

Nelson frowned at her doubtfully.

She hung her head again and continued in a soft voice.  'I guess I can't blame you for not trusting me.'  She moved one hand up, pressing one small fist between her breasts.  'And I suppose, in a way, it's a sort of a compliment, you think you have to point a gun at me to feel safe.'  She looked up to meet his eyes once more, catching the surprised expression that proved her guess.  'But really, I think we should try to be friends.'

'What makes you think I've got a gun?'

She wasn’t going to tell him she'd heard the sound of the safety disengaging….  'Well, you've cleared all your expensive equipment away from in front of you; you haven't got either hand in view; and your right arm twitched when I moved forwards.  So I
guessed
you had a gun.  You should lift it up, you know – Preacher says you have to shoot at a pretty sharp angle through cover, or the bullet will be deflected really badly.'

Nelson stared at her in confusion, then saw the Doctor seemed as surprised as him.

'I don't know how to convince you,' she shrugged, 'but they say actions speak louder than words.'  She closed the remaining distance steadily as she moved around the bench toward him.  Almost involuntarily, he raised the gun and swiveled to face her.  She looked into the ugly muzzle, then back into his eyes.  'You don't need it, Nelson.  I'm here to say I'm sorry, remember?'

She continued to advance, not avoiding the gun, and bent down, leaning forwards until the barrel touched her breast.  Her mouth opened slightly, and, never taking her eyes from his, she slowly parted her lips and lowered her face to his.  Her lips opened wider as she tilted her head back, closing her eyes.

Harmon's fists clenched as he watched Nelson lower his head hesitantly, heard Leeth's small 'Oh!' as their lips met, then watched as the kiss quickly became avid.  Watched as Leeth guided Nelson's hand to a breast.

Abruptly, Harmon exploded.  'Leeth!  That's enough!'

Immediately, she stood, and Nelson jumped, suddenly recalling the other man's presence.

The tableau held for long seconds – Nelson trying to look unaffected, Leeth holding tight rein on her emotions as her skin crawled from the recent contact, and Harmon trying to calm himself.

'Please excuse us, Nelson.  I have something I would like to discuss with my ward.'

'Uh.  Sure.'  Nelson looked reluctant to move.  'I guess you can find your own way out?'

Father's voice sounded in Nelson's audio implant.  «I’m ordering Dojo to stand down, Nelson.  Before they leave.» 

«Sure», Nelson responded, equally silently.  «She really did, uh, apologize.  Pity her Uncle came with her.»

Leeth smiled at Nelson, then left, not trusting herself to speak.  She forced the smile to remain as she sashayed out, unsure how many cams Nelson had scattered through his rooms.  Harmon's mood darkened further as he hurried after her, looking as if he was being led by her.  Following her down the empty twisting corridors linking the Department's underground apartments.

'Leeth, stop!'  She obeyed at once, and he grabbed her by one arm as he caught up to her.  'What the devil did you think-'

'Do you really want to talk about it out here?' she hissed at him.

He glared at her, biting down on the things he wanted to say.  'Go to your room.'

Even braced to resist, this time, and with the flush of anger that his words aroused, a vision of herself going to her room punctured her thoughts and threw her into confusion.  As if everything drained out of her head and re-formed in a pattern that felt…
different
.  She pictured herself marching toward her quarters. 
He was doing it again!
A new surge of anger flushed over her, and she grabbed hold of it hungrily.  Desperately.
I
won't
do what he says
. 
Feeling sick that she'd trusted him; had
let
him gain this control of her.

'Go to your room.'

No, don't.  Hate!
she told herself, fists clenched and lips parted in a silent snarl as she faced him. 
So
angry with him.

Uh
.  She shook her head. 
Why
am
I so angry with him?

Harmon watched, his cold fury growing even as her temper slowly dissolved into confusion. 
Why does she always challenge me
?  Always oppose every request?
  She really did need to learn obedience.  Even if they weren't in such a difficult situation.

Well, he told himself, he now
had
the control he needed.

'Go to your room, Leeth.'

The two glared at one another.  Until Leeth blinked, confused; then finally lifted her chin, spun around, and stalked off.

He makes me
furious
sometimes.
  She was going to her room.  She had nothing more to say to him.

-

For a while Nelson stayed lost in a pleasant sexual haze, but when he gathered his wits again he knew he had a decision to make.  Should he try again to find some choice dirt on her, something to get rid of her – or reboot the game, give her another life?  A
Meta
Life, one where she'd be friendly, like just now?

But he'd already used her DNA with Ghost to hunt for matches, in every net-linked holographic data store on the planet, and drawn a complete zero. 
Had someone gone through the entire net, wiping any traces of Leeth's parents?

Eagle had to be behind it.  But why on earth do that?  Unless it involved the Department's big scary "bogey man"….
 

Chapter 23 

Leeth looked around her bedroom, frowning, trying to remember why she'd come here.

Because Keepie told me to
.

She hadn't wanted to.

He'd told her to.  And somehow, she'd just done it.  Just like he'd made her say sorry to Nelson!

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

Sure, she could see she had to make everyone realize they could trust her, and maybe that meant she should seem to apologize to Nelson.  And convince him she was sincere.  But why did he make her think of
seducing
Nelson?  He'd even threatened to
make
her do it.  She grimaced, remembering Nelson's sour breath.

And then
he'd
been angry with
her
!  Ordered her to go to her room!  She looked around, fuming.

Well, she
had
gone to her room.

And now I'm leaving!

Still angry, she stalked down the corridor, on her way to the swimming pool, hearing the
click
of the lock on her front door as she moved off.  Then heard her uncle's distinctive tread from behind her.

'What do you think you're doing?'

Uh-oh.
  She froze, then realized he'd surely order her back.  She ran, hands over her ears.

'Leeth!  Stop!'

He'd hardly raised his voice, and she'd already made it round the corner, but still she heard him clearly.

'Come back here!'

She flushed cold, then hot, in anger.  But moments later, she was turning around and walking back toward him, determined to face him.  As she rounded the bend of the corridor, she tried to read his expression.  Nothing.  That was a bad sign.  And his fists were clenched.

That was a
worse
sign.

The awful feeling was back. 
It wasn't fear.
  No.  She wasn't afraid of him.  She
wasn't
.

She wanted to run.

But it was
his
fault!  She’d just explain.  'Why did you-?'

'Be quiet!'

The answering flash of anger and defiance drained away into a newly-familiar gray nothingness.  She blinked in confusion.

Was he doing it again?
  She didn't think so, but wasn't sure.  She just knew she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of speaking to him.

'I don't want to hear your excuses.  And I've had enough of your willful disobedience.  Now come with me.' As he turned away, she swayed forwards toward his departing back, the urge to leap and
strike
almost overpowering.

And something in his expression… she didn’t want to be alone with him now.  She took one step after him, the rage surging higher.

But what would the others think if I attack my own uncle?
They'd both be finished here.  And she still had so much she needed to learn.

She blinked.  Had he heard that thought?  The angry set of his shoulders hadn't changed.  She frowned, trying to remember if he'd done that finger-thing he did to cast his mind-reading spell?  Then shook her head, confused. 
What is
wrong
with me?

She took another step after him, then another.  Feeling like she clung to rationality by the barest thread, as her gaze lashed his oh-so-vulnerable back.

She shook her head, forcing the confusion aside. 
Ignored
it, determined to follow him no matter what, the avid
tingle
burning at her fingertips.  Eager.

At his quarters, he placed his hand to the lock, gesturing her inside as the door slid open.

She’d hadn't been in here much.  Looking around at all his familiar things, set up in their new positions, a curious sense of dislocated nostalgia drained some of her anger.  Some of the fear.

For some reason she felt reluctant to speak.  She had to force herself to ask what was upsetting him.  'Uncle, why are you-'

'I told you to be silent, Leeth.'  His voice was dangerously calm.

Her stomach felt hollow.  She had to firm her resolve not to speak – not one more word – and faced him, hands on hips.  Hiding the storm of emotions inside.

His eyes narrowed.  'I've rarely chastised you physically – I see now that that was a mistake.  And since you apparently prefer to behave like a balky child, your punishment will be a child's one.'

She lifted her chin defiantly, still refusing to talk to him.  Turning away, she deliberately ignored him as he crossed to a desk in the corner and dragged a chair into the center of the room and sat on it.

'I believe a bare-bottom spanking is the traditional punishment for disobedience.'

She turned to him in disbelief.  In the following silence, a faint high-pitched chirp sounded several times, puzzling her.

'Come here and lie down across my lap.'

Anger and confusion swelled at his words, churning inside, but she fought them down.  They cleared, leaving the decision to be punished standing starkly alone in her thoughts. 
I'll show him!
She approached him.

She didn't understand.  Why was he doing this?

Why was she
letting
him?

Part of her raged helplessly, but her decision to drape herself across his lap was solid as steel. 
He
couldn't stop her.  Her thoughts strobed between horror and the desire for him to hold her.  But not like
this
. 

Why couldn't he just hold her like a father held a daughter: the two of them close, and warm, together?  Why couldn't he stroke her hair, and tell her if he was proud of her?

Instead, here she was, lying stubbornly across his lap, determined to be spanked.  It felt
wrong
.

But the close intimacy of even this contact – how long had it been since he'd really
held
her? – made her yearn for more.  At the idea of his arms wrapping around her, water welled up in her eyes.

And suddenly the confusion swirled back in, and through it, she felt something move inside her mind.  An oily sliding something, nudging aside thoughts as it delved deeper.  Stirring up her deepest, most secret thoughts.  Turning them over and probing into them.

Her eyes flooded. 
Tears? 
She shook them away, confused afresh.  If she wasn't going to
speak
, she certainly wouldn't
cry
in front of him!