Author: Bulgroz the Third
Title: The Adjusters #17 - Consolations
Keywords: MF, mc
Posted: June 7, 2011
Edited: June 7, 2011




			  The Adjusters #17


			     Consolations


Daniel had not said anything for the last ten minutes. Radhu was
almost surprised to see his friend still there when he looked away
from his computer terminal.

"By the way, I have a few items of note that may be considered
somewhat negative," said the lanky Indian. "First, last week, based on
your judicious hint my facial recognition software fed by a regional
network of surveillance cameras alerted me to a match on Jennifer at
the local airport. A contact of mine has now confirmed Biff's and
Jennifer's presence on a connecting flight from Boston to Saint Thomas
in the Virgin Islands last Sunday. One-way tickets."

Daniel nodded, sipping some Indian liquor he had found in his friend's
cupboards. A week earlier Jackson, through their common friend Cindy,
had passed along the information that Biff was skipping town with Jenn
in tow. "Well, at least that part of the story checks out." He did not
ask Radhu about his contact -- the tall Indian's web of associations
was often frightening to contemplate.

"Also, the acquaintance to whom I loaned Serena's charm bracelet for
analysis has reported his findings."

"Let me guess. Nothing."

"Indeed. He said, and I quote, 'just your typical cheapo gimmicky
bracelet.' Not even manufactured with genuine silver, but only a
patina over some unremarkable alloy. A small enterprise in Portland,
Maine, distributes them. Would you like me to scrutinize this
connection further?"

"I doubt it'd lead anywhere. So it's not the bracelets, then. Great."
Daniel sighed. "It's all gone to shit, Rad. All of it." He leaned back
into the sofa. Maybe it was him. Maybe that was it, the key to it
all. Maybe he was the fuck up.

"I'm not cognizant of such an hyperbolic assessment having any bearing
on reality."

"Let's see -- you're locked up in this apartment with apparently no
intent of ever getting sunlight on your skin again, Serena is spending
her time doing Lord knows what and has been so completely unreliable
that I barely recognize her anymore, and oh, let's not forget, my
girlfriend, and recent fiancee, has taken off for the Caribbean with a
thick-skulled neanderthal, breaking up with me for no discernible
reason, and a lot of that crap seems to revolve around that stupid
frat, and no one seems to be willing to even look into it."

He was getting angry, and was aware enough to realize he was being
unfair to Radhu. The problem was that he felt helpless, a feeling with
which he had little experience. Confronting the fraternity president,
hiring a private investigator to find Jenn when she first disappeared,
talking to the police chief the previous week, all those efforts had
yielded nothing.

What made matters worse was the letter he had received at the
beginning of the week, a letter that had been slipped by hand in his
mailbox. It was a handwritten letter, from Jenn -- he recognized the
handwriting, that unique way she had of looping her Ls -- a dear-john
letter if he had ever seen one, in which she admitted that she had
gotten cold feet about the wedding, that it had all gone too fast,
that it had been suffocating, and that she needed her space -- space
to breathe, to blossom, to find herself. And that she had found Biff
who could help her through all of that, because he was understanding
and kind and was willing to let her proceed at her own pace. And not
to go and look for her because it was over and she hoped he would have
a nice life. A big load of bullshit, Daniel knew, but he had stared at
that letter until he was shrouded by the night's darkness.

He had later learned that most of Jenn's friends had heard from her as
well, either by email or through the phone, and were told that she was
okay but that she was taking a break after her break up with Daniel,
and that she needed some time to think and was therefore taking a
leave of absence, and not to worry about her and that she would get in
touch with them when she returned. A friend of Daniel at the
registrar's office was kind enough to confirm that indeed Jennifer
Hansen had filed a petition for a leave of absence from the University
for the remainder of the semester, and that it had been granted.

In other words, as far as her friends were concerned, as far as the
University was concerned, as far as the police was concerned,
everything was on the level. Jenn had left, and no one was
worried. Daniel believed none of it. But from now on, people would
dismiss anything he said as sour grapes, automatically assuming he was
upset that Jenn had left him. He was stuck. He had to reluctantly
appreciate how elegant the gambit was. Could Biff really have thought
that strategically? He might have underestimated his adversary.

Daniel was certain that they -- whomever they were -- must have
somehow coerced Jenn into writing those letters and emails and making
those phone calls. To be honest, after having coerced her into leaving
for the South with Biff, having her send those messages sounded like a
small thing. Daniel had wondered whether Jenn had been able to smuggle
out a message to him or anyone else about what was going on, but there
had been nothing he could discern in the letter he had received. He
had asked Radhu to look at the letter and see whether he could
discover some secret code in it, but Radhu had just shaken his head
and said that while he could look it over, there was barely a
negligible chance of discovering anything unless he had an _a priori_
idea of which secret code was used. Another dead end.

All of which left him depressed. But at least he had calmed down. The
hysteria that had plagued him ever since Jenn first disappeared three
weeks earlier had been replaced by a quiet determination to get to the
bottom of the mystery.

He needed to think of something else. "So how's the life of an online
student treating you then?" Since Radhu had developed his crippling
inability to go outside, he had agreed to become a guinea pig for the
University new online programs, in his case in mathematical physics.

"I find it intensely liberating, if I want to be unabashedly honest,
which I want to be. And superbly convenient. I can do it all from
here, my center of operation, my control nexus." He pointed to the two
monitors, his gesture sweeping to the webcams and the microphones and
the speakers and several devices of which Daniel could not discern the
use. "I can communicate with teaching assistants and instructors when
needed, and my thesis advisor has proved willing to interact via
webcam. I venture I am additionally fortunate that my interests
chiefly lie in the most theoretical fields of physics, and that I am
not an experimentalist. Although," he mused, staring at a wall, "I
would not be surprised that a mechanism for conducting the panoply of
experiments required for a thorough experimental physics course could
be devised. In fact..." his voice trailed, as he pondered the problem.

Daniel, finishing his drink and reaching for the bottle, considered
his friend. He was still Radhu, still himself, despite this
self-imposed hermitage within the confines of his apartment. He seemed
even more himself than ever, as if shedding the mantle of social
interactions had distilled him to his essence. Odd how the world
works, sometimes, he reflected.

He was staring at all the computing equipment on his friend's desk,
while Radhu was still thinking about remote experimentation setups,
when a thought that had been running in the back of his mind for the
last few days jumped to the fore. "Rad, I might have a couple of
favors to ask from you."

"Whatever you require, my friend."

"I need to understand what is going on. You keep telling me to keep my
mind open to the possibility that perhaps everything is just as it
appears, but I don't buy it. I am still convinced that somehow, the
frat is involved. I'm not sure how, not sure why, but they're
involved."

"And you still conjecture that their presumed shenanigans involves
some kind of mind control? Following our discussion three weeks ago, I
investigated connections between the fraternity and companies known or
suspected to dabble in mind-altering technology, and nothing has yet
emerged."

"Fine, so the connection is not that clear. But my gut's screaming at
me, and I want to know why. Unfortunately, we can't move directly."

"Confrontation has not delivered the requisite information, that is
true."

"Right, going after the frat seems difficult, and the police has no
reason to investigate because someone managed to get Jenn to tell
everyone that she left town of her own volition."

"Unless, it goes without saying, that desire was authentic on her
part."

"You know I don't believe that, and deep inside, you don't either. But
that's irrelevant. The point is, we can't go at it directly. We need
information."

"Might this have anything to do with your befriending of this Jackson
fellow?"

"Partly. I'm hoping I can get him to talk about what's going on at the
frat. He does seem like a nice guy, and he genuinely seems to feel bad
about Biff stealing Jenn away."

"Do you trust him?"

"No. But I don't need to trust him."

Radhu nodded.

"But we need more than Jackson. We need lots more. And there is a link
that we haven't explored yet, a link between the fraternity, Marjorie,
and possibly the events at NADA last semester --"

"Snowman," completed Radhu.

"Snowman indeed. He knows something. We need to find him."

"How do you intend to achieve this feat?"

"No idea. But a first step might be your facial recognition stuff."

"That may prove spectacularly challenging."

"Why? It found Jenn at the airport, no?"

"Indeed, but I had access to several photographs of Jennifer to
construct a matching pattern. Similarly with Biff, although the
pattern was much less detailed because the only photographs I had
available were gleaned from the Internet. We unfortunately have no
pictorial representation of Snowman that I am aware of."

"Could we fake it?"

"We could give the software general patterns and a broad description,
but the result will be abysmally slow, and substantially inaccurate."

"Damn. Okay, well, still, it's better than nothing. Anything will
help. I'll try to see if I can find a picture of him somewhere."
Daniel paused. "Second favor. From here you can access every computer
on campus, right?"

"As long as they are reachable, yes, however tautologous that
statement may appear to be."

"Including computers located in private houses?"

"If they are connected to the Internet, I cannot contemplate why those
would be any different. And since most everyone is indeed connected to
the Internet, that is not really a question. Why are you inquiring?"

"Could you get into the computers at Delta Iota Kappa and, I don't
know, snoop around some?"

"Well, laying to the side the ethical implications of the question and
treating it as an hypothetical scenario, I would imagine it highly
depends on the kind of firewall they have installed, and the extent to
which their computers are interconnected. And, it goes without saying,
the competence of their system administrators. But all things being
equal, I do not see why it should be impossible."

"Radhu, my friend Radhu. I am about to ask you to hack into Delta Iota
Kappa and see if you can find anything, anything at all, about what
they're doing, anything about those bracelets, what happened to Jenn,
anything. Whether or not they are behind what happened at NADA last
year, anything."

Radhu was looking in his direction but not actually looking at him,
clearly lost in thought. Was he thinking back to that party at NADA?
Just then, Daniel's phone rang. A quick look revealed the
caller. Cindy.

"Hello?"

"Hi Dan. Cindy here. Bad time?"

"No, it's okay, just hanging out with Radhu. What's up?"

"I just wanted to know if you were still up to meet for your final
project tomorrow? I have a free period at three."

"Sure. That'd be great. Three. Meet at the Student Center?"

"Perfect. Also..." and Daniel heard her hesitation at the other end of
the phone. "I... Look, I was wondering if you'd be up for going out to
dinner Friday night. Not for a date -- I mean, we wouldn't be alone or
anything. Jackson and Kyra, a nice little friendly outing. You know,
to entertain ourselves a bit? Maybe catch a movie or something. I
think Showgirls 2 is out now."

"Showgirls 2? Huh..."

"Kidding! About the movie, I mean. But I think dinner might be
fun. What do you say?"

"Sure, Cin. Sounds great."

"Great! We're thinking of heading to the Grill down on College. If
you're okay with it, we can settle the details tomorrow when we chat."

"Looking forward to it."

"Same here, Dan, Same here! See you tomorrow. Bye!"

Daniel disconnected the call. Radhu was looking at him.

"Go ahead," Daniel said, "ask your question."

"I am wondering what your position was with respect to her." Radhu
nodded towards Daniel's cell phone. "Do you trust her? By your own
admission, she has associations to the fraternity, she was likely
carnally acquainted with Biff, she has a friendship with Jackson, she
was harboring a charms bracelets, she was present at the NADA party
last semester, and she pounced on you like a starving leopard when
Jennifer disappeared. A less suspicious mind than mine, if it were to
play with the rules you yourself have established, and I am not
acquiescing that they are correct, might think that you were being set
up."

"Yeah, I considered it. I'm still considering it. Do I trust her? Not
really. Frankly, I don't know who I can trust anymore. Well, except
you, really. But like Jackson, I can play along without trusting
her. And you know, it's weird, but my gut tells me that she's okay. I
don't have anything concrete to base it on. But she's always been
straight with me. My gut's not like your scientific data, of course,
but it's all I have to go on."

"You seem to navigate existence adequately with your instinct,
Daniel. I cannot deny that."

"Why, Rad, is that actually a compliment right there?"

Radhu did not respond to this question. "As an answer to your previous
question, yes, I will hack into Delta Iota Kappa and snoop around, as
the kids are wont to exclaim these days. I will let you know what I
discover."

"Thanks Rad. You don't know how much I appreciate this. Please be
careful, okay?"

"Only insofar as you are careful yourself, my friend."



				* * *



The following Friday late afternoon, Daniel was standing in the middle
of his bedroom. He was nervous, he realized, and that was
unexpected. This was just a friendly outing, a way to keep himself
distracted, nothing more. Trying to maintain a semblance of normal
life.

But there was no denying it, he was nervous. This was his first date
in a long time. Except that it was not a date. He was still Jenn's
fiance, would be until he could get her in front of him again and get
the truth out of her. He was not even on board for some rebound sex,
as Serena liked to call it. So why was he nervous?

He pondered for a second what to wear. He pulled out a jacket from the
closet and tried it -- casual, but still elegant. I'm being
ridiculous, he thought. He shook his head, then frowned when he felt
something heavy against his side. There was something in the jacket's
pocket.

He pulled out something that looked like an Olympic bronze medal
attached to a leather string. It took two seconds before he recognized
it. Memories from that night coming flooding back -- the party thrown
by the New American Deal Association last semester, the party that he
and Radhu had crashed in their search for Marjorie, the party where
Radhu had been grabbed, beaten, tied to a chair, and threatened with
genital mutilation of a most horrible kind.

And at that party, they had those medallions, like the one he was now
holding. One of the games that the NADA folks had organized. There had
been one medallions for each cocktail waitress that had been going
around offering drinks to guests. All beautiful, all wearing the Delta
Iota Kappa silver charms bracelet, remembered Daniel. Another of those
coincidences that Serena so casually dismissed.

The game was twisted in its simplicity. Wearing one of those
medallions would allow you to order the girl associated with the
medallion around, and she would do what you asked, without
complaining. The game had degenerated fairly quickly into a veritable
orgy. Daniel had wondered at the time how much the girls had been paid
to be willing to participate in such a demeaning game. It must have
been a generous amount, because if his recollections were correct, all
the girls had seemed to play along without difficulty, if not with
enthusiasm.

He looked at the medallion again, thinking about the relationship
between the medallion, the events at the party, the bracelets --
again, every cocktail waitress had such a bracelet at the NADA party
-- and Marjorie, and Jenn. Perhaps he needed to go and visit Marjorie,
get her version of the events. Serena had said that she was resting at
some sanatorium, somewhere.

However he drew it, the picture always smelled like something straight
out of science fiction, with fumes of brainwashing and mind
control. Which his ongoing research with Cindy showed was perhaps more
achievable than he had ever thought possible.

He turned the medallion over, reading Cindy's name engraved on the
back. He remembered how, at the party, where she was serving as
cocktail waitress, she had put that medallion around his neck herself,
and offer him her body. The look in her eyes had been serious,
determined, lusty. He was getting hard just remembering it. The image
of Cindy spreading her pretty legs and holding them up by the knees, a
look of wanton desire on her face, flashed in his mind. He took a deep
breath. That was not the Cindy he knew. She never acted that
way. Except that one time, when he had had this medallion around his
neck. Of course, he had taken it off, but before he could do anything
else the whole thing with Radhu came up and he must have stashed the
medallion in his pocket without thinking, and there it had remained
until now.

He stared at the medallion a while longer, trying still to make sense
of it all, before dropping it on the dresser, where it lay over a heap
of leather right next to Jenn's engagement ring.



				* * *



A few hours later, Daniel was approaching the Grill, an otherwise
unassuming restaurant on College Avenue right where the Darnell Ghetto
merged into the city of North Alexandria proper. It was a warm
cloudless night, lots of people were mulling about, and everyone was
cheerful, smiling, and friendly. The atypical February weather was
having a tonic effect, fighting the blues that would otherwise
typically shroud over all of New England.

"Dan!"

The voice snapped him out of his reverie. He had arrived. And there
was Cindy. She had a broad smile on her face, and she stepped up and
hugged him tight, pressing her little body against his and he hugged
her back. Her hair, bunched in a ponytail, smelled of almonds.

She looked good, and he told her so. She smiled and did a little
twirl. She was wearing a simple blue dress with large white polka
dots, held up by a pair of spaghetti straps that left her shoulders
bare but which she kept covered by a white scarf. The dress,
unsurprisingly, barely reached the middle of her thighs, and a pair of
impressively tall white spike heeled shoes added what looked like four
inches to her diminutive height.

Cindy noticed his eyes trading down to her feet and giggled. "Yeah, I
don't wear these often, but I guess I felt tonight was special. And
they go so well with the dress, don't you think?" And with that, she
posed, legs apart, a hand on her hip, a glint that could only be
described as mischievous in her eye.

"You look amazing, Cin."

She practically blushed. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself."

Daniel looked around.

"They're inside already," said Cindy.

"Should we, then?" he said, offering his arm. Cindy laughed again, but
took his arm and together they walked into the restaurant, under the
amused eyes of people around them.

There was a not entirely unexpected large crowd inside, it being
Friday night and the restaurant being a fairly popular spot. It tried
to tread the fine line between a pub-style joint and a moderate-class
dress-up dining affair. Opinions were divided on whether it actually
achieved that goal, but everyone agreed it had the best brochettes in
town.

Nodding to the waiter at the welcoming desk, Cindy guided Daniel to a
booth in the corner. Jackson and Kyra were already there. Jackson had
Kyra's hand in his, and was whispering something in her ear.

"You know, if we're bothering you we can just leave you two alone,"
said Cindy, approaching the booth.

Kyra jerked back from Jackson, blushing fiercely, and she stammered
while Jackson grinned and shook his head. Cindy laughed in response,
and sat down, with Daniel following suit.

"Hi Jackson. How are you?"

"I'm great, actually. Good to see you again, Daniel. How... how are
you holding up?"

Daniel shrugged. "You know how it is -- some days are good, some days
are bad. Kyra, right?"

Kyra nodded. And then, right there, in a flash which in retrospect was
probably prompted by the medallion he had found earlier in his jacket,
he remembered why Kyra looked so familiar. Of course. She was Kyra,
the cute redhead who had been a cocktail waitress at the NADA party,
and whom he had spied in one of the upstairs rooms, getting taken by
two partygoers and seemingly delighting in the rough treatment. How
could he have not recognized her before? And could that image be
reconciled with the friendly and seemingly shy girl currently in front
of him?

She looked beautiful, with delicate features and high cheekbones, an
easy smile, and piercing green eyes, all emphasized by her short red
hair. Her shirt was off one shoulder, exposing a lightly freckled
skin.

"Hi Daniel. Good to meet you. Actually," she hesitated, "have we met
before?"

"Well, we ran into each other a couple of weeks back at the cafe on
campus."

"No, before that. You look... I dunno... familiar?"

Well yes, Kyra, as a matter of fact, we met at a party once where you
came on to me, thought Daniel, who instead simply said, "maybe at a
party somewhere, but then again, I have a very common face."

Kyra eyed him suspiciously, while Cindy elbowed him. "That's so not
true."

Jackson turned to Kyra. "Daniel here has been going through a rough
patch lately. His fiancee left him." He turned to Daniel. "Sorry, man,
but I believe in clearing the air."

Daniel shrugged again. "It's okay. It would have come out anyways." He
looked at Kyra. "Yes, she left about three week ago. With another
man. Haven't seen her since."

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry. That must have hurt." She extended her hand,
put it on his. Her hands were slight, like the rest of her. "Did you
know the guy?"

"Yeah, sorta."

"It was Biff," Jackson added, making a face.

"Biff? You mean Biff from --"

Jackson nodded.

"Yew?!" Kyra made a face of her own. "That guy gives me the creeps!
That way he has of undressing you with his eyes..." She shivered.

Cindy took Daniel's hand under the table and squeezed it. Daniel
appreciated the support, but was still trying to figure out the game,
if game there was. Kyra looked genuinely disgusted, and Jackson looked
bothered by Kyra's statement, almost angry.

Despite the rocky start, dinner was a pleasant affair. Jackson and
Kyra were an entertaining couple, and they seemed to be very much into
each other. Jackson certainly had eyes only for her, and many a
private smile were exchanged during the hour.

Daniel learned that Kyra was studying biology, but that her real
passion was painting. She had no love for contemporary art, but was
drawn to neoclassicism. Which she thought was hilarious -- "Not only
do I love doing something that has zero prospects for the future," she
said, "but I like doing it in a style that has been out of fashion for
hundreds of years!" Hence the biology degree. She was not sure what
she would do with it afterwards, though, but she was happy to cross
that bridge when she got there. In the mean time, she had found
herself a small job doing illustrations for a biology textbook written
by one of her professors.

Jackson, Daniel remembered, was interested in sports physiology, and
his path was somewhat clearer, at least in his own mind: he wanted to
work for an NFL football franchise. When Cindy pointed out to him that
the chances were astronomically small of that working out, Jackson
replied that one of his uncles was manager of something or other for
the Miami Dolphins, and that gave him an in.

While waiting for dessert, the girls left the table to go and freshen
themselves up, and they laughed as they headed out to the restrooms,
Cindy with her short dress bouncing on her high heels, Kyra with a
pair of painted-on leather pants and boots. Several pairs of eyes
followed them surreptitiously on their way, including Daniel's and
Jackson's.

"Hope you don't mind me spilling about your girl and stuff, man. I
felt it was best."

Daniel waved a hand. "It's all right. Probably good that it's out
anyways. So... still no word on Biff?"

"Cindy passed the message along, right? That Biff was leaving town?"

Daniel nodded.

"Well, he's gone, and no one's heard anything from him. I'm not sure
where he went, but word is, Jenn's gone with him."

Daniel nodded again.

"Weird thing is," continued Jackson, "Bernie's disappeared too. And
that's unexpected. I mean, the guy's a fixture. Doesn't have much of a
family, so he tends to stick around the frat even when the brothers
leave for holiday and stuff. But he's been gone for weeks now."

"Could he have gone with Biff? Were they close?"

"No one was close to Biff. And Bernie's kind of the intellectual of
the lot, and Biff always made fun of him and pushed him around. So I
don't really see Bernie having gone with Biff anywhere."

Daniel had nothing to retort, and desserts arrived before he could
follow up on that thread of conversation.

"So things seem to be going well with Kyra," said Daniel.

Jackson's eyes lit up like someone had flipped a switch. "She's
amazing! We've been hanging out for weeks now, and it's still like I'm
seeing her for the first time, you know? She's beautiful and
sweet. And you should see her paintings -- she's got talent pouring
out of her ears! And not just for painting either. In bed, she's --"
He stopped, realized what he was saying, then looked sheepishly at
Daniel, who had to laugh at the younger man's face.

"It's okay, Jackson. I can deal -- people are going to keep on falling
in love and having sex and generally be happy however miserable I feel
about my own fucked up love life. Enjoy it while it lasts."

"Look, I don't know what your plans are, but you know that Cindy's
pretty sweet on you, and she may not be such a bad person to rebound
with. I'm just saying, she'd understand. In fact, she probably expects
it."

Daniel shrugged. "I'm just not ready. She's sweet, and she's fun, but
I can't think past just hanging out, you know what I mean? No
relationship, nothing complicated. I'm damaged goods, right now."

Jackson rolled his eyes. "Who's saying anything about a relationship?
I'm saying how about you bring her home and, you know, do her? No
strings attached, and I'm pretty sure she'd go for it. Especially if
you played the sick puppy that needs TLC routine. I mean, you can't
tell me that you're not attracted to her. Just her legs, man --
wouldn't you want to feel those legs wrapped around you?"

"I'm just not like that."

"Maybe you should start."

Shrugging, Daniel spied Cindy and Kyra returning from the
restrooms. On the way they were stopped by a tall woman with raven
hair wearing a long leather coat. They talked for a few minutes, and
then the woman went on her way, navigating to the restaurant's
exit. The girls returned to the table.

"Oh goodie! Desserts are here!" Cindy dropped next to Daniel and
attacked her banana split, while Kyra looked on, amused.

"I don't know how you manage not to gain twenty pounds when you go
out, Cin."

"High metabolism," she replied. She turned to Daniel. "Want some?" she
offered him her spoon, dripping with ice cream and warm chocolate.

"No thanks, I'm full."

"Pfft... amateur." And she slid the spoon in her mouth, and pulled it
out slowly, her eyes on Daniel's, and the movement had such a
suggestive quality to it that he felt a flicker of arousal, instantly
followed by a flicker of guilt.

"By the way," asked Daniel, turning to look at the exit. "Who was
that?"

"Who?"

"The woman you talked to two seconds ago?"

Cindy shrugged. "Just some woman that was asking for directions to the
city center. Why?"

"No reason, really. Just thought I'd seen her around."

"She had wonderful eyes," added Kyra, leaning her head against
Jackson's shoulder, "light grey, barely a touch of color, but tonally
rich nonetheless. I could never paint that."

"Don't sell yourself short, babe," replied Jackson. "Now, guys, I
don't know what you've got planned for after dinner, but there's this
party that a friend is throwing a few blocks down, and it might be the
perfect way to cap the evening."

"Not a Delta Iota Kappa party, is it?" asked Cindy, an eye on Daniel.

"No way. A friend of mine from sports physio. Bit of a geek, but
throws decent bashes. Wanna come?"

Cindy looked at Daniel. "What do you say?"

Daniel shrugged. "I dunno..."

"Come on, man," prodded Jackson. "Betcha anything it'll be a fun
evening."



				* * *



The party was held on one floor of a large house in the Ghetto. It was
already full of students by the time Jackson, Kyra, Daniel, and Cindy
showed up. Most were mingling, talking and laughing in the various
rooms of the apartment suite. Some were sitting in couches, kissing,
while others were cheering at the large screen television. The overall
lighting was kept low, with only a few cloth-darkened lamps providing
ambience.

Jackson and Kyra soon disappeared, while Daniel and Cindy hung about
in the living room. Daniel noticed the show playing on the television.

"Well I'll be... Kittens' Den," said Daniel, his voice catching for a
second.

Kittens' Den was the show that he, along with Radhu, Jenn, and Serena,
had almost religiously followed the previous year, getting together
every week to catch the broadcast. It had been a convenient excuse to
wind down and relax and keep in touch, really. Daniel looked at the
screen in wonder. The second season had started, clearly. And seeing
the familiar characters only served to bring into focus just how out
of whack his current life was. How did it go so wrong, he wondered?
What happened? He could feel Cindy's eyes on him.

"Huh, what's Kittens' Den?" she asked.

Daniel smiled a sad smile before looking at her, and summarized what
was was a fairly convoluted storyline about an organization taking in
runaways and prisoners, generally female, but not exclusively, and
using mind-control technology to overwrite their personalities with
artificial ones for various purposes. For instance, the organization
underwrote a high-class escort service, where a customer could order a
girl for the evening, the day, or the week, to his or her complete
specification.

Cindy rolled her eyes. "Sounds like a really mind-expanding show. I'm
starting to understand a bit more why you're fascinated by the
mind-control stuff," she said, clearly referring to his senior
project.

Daniel shrugged, feeling vaguely embarrassed. "It's better than it
sounds."

"No shit it's better than it sounds!"

They turned to see a young man coming towards them with two large
bottles of beer. He was unremarkable aside from an abundant beard and
hair that made his head look too big for his short frame. He extended
the bottles towards them. Daniel and Cindy each grabbed one.

"And this new season is looking particularly interesting," continued
the young man, pulling another beer bottle out of nowhere and starting
to take a long pull. "I mean, they got some high-profile chicks to
bare it all in pretty demeaning roles as slave kittens, and they
introduced these two investigators for the Den in charge of recovering
runaway kittens and researchers that try to leave the company with
their tech. Very X-files, and the woman's a total fox, you can
imagine, with legs up to there," and his eyes trailed down to Cindy's
legs when he said that, almost unwittingly, "huh... but they're also
both ruthless efficient killing machines, and they prove rather
imaginative when interrogating suspects to obtain information. I'm
Aaron, by the way, your host for the evening, and let me tell you, you
look smashing tonight baby."

Cindy smiled, acknowledging the compliment.

"I'm Daniel."

"Aaron. Good to meet you. Well, enjoy yourself, and you," he addressed
Cindy, "I certainly hope I will run into you later." His eyes lingered
down her body.

Daniel and Cindy made the round, but besides Jackson and Kyra, who
were busy discussing with another couple in the corner, they did not
know anyone else, until Cindy recognized one of her classmates and
they started discussing an upcoming course project. Daniel left Cindy
to her discussion, circled the party one more time, and finally ended
up in a one-seater in the living room watching the running episode of
Kittens' Den.

He lost track of time, and when Cindy reappeared thirty minutes later,
he looked at her as if coming out of a daze.

"Mind if I sit down?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Thanks."

He was expecting her to sit down on the chair beside his, or at worst
on the floor, but she slipped between his legs and sat down on his
lap, one hand wrapped around his neck. She was holding another bottle.

"Just make yourself comfortable," he said, his face deadpan.

"I will," she replies, moving around to find the best position on his
thigh. She was warm and tight against his body, and her dress had
risen up high exposing her legs in their full delicious glory. She
crossed them in front of him, and leaning back against his shoulder,
turned to finish watching the show. Around them, people were still
talking and drinking and in various places you could see in the glow
of the television screen that they were kissing and making out.

"Cin, you're drunk."

She giggled. "Maybe. So?"

He had nothing to respond to that.

They watched the show, them and a small group of people that had
coalesced around the screen, until it finished and someone flipped the
channel and they landed in the middle of a somewhat raunchy romantic
comedy about two people who meet by chance and spend the rest of the
movie looking for each other while dealing with lovers, ex-lovers, and
of course family. Not the sort of movie that stretched one's mind in
any way, but the quips were witty enough, the cast seemed to be having
enough fun, and everyone was pretty enough to make for an entertaining
mindless time. Cindy was still leaning against him, and he could feel
her heat from where he was. He stole a glance at her thighs, exposed
as they were by her having crossed her legs. Daniel thought about what
Jackson had told him earlier, about sleeping with her. He could not
see himself there, not yet. Images of Jenn kept intruding into his
mind every time he did, and it hurt.

"So Kittens' Den. Explain to me something -- why didn't the researcher
that escaped -- why didn't he just, I don't know, rewire everyone's
brain so that none of them could reveal where he was hiding."

"Well, the stuff that they use to mess with minds only works on women,
apparently."

"That's stupid. Why?"

"What do mean, why? That's just the gimmick of the show. Something
about the brain chemistries between male and female being different,
susceptible to different stuff. They've never really explained it."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Hold on -- you're telling me that of all the things about that show
that you've seen tonight, all the stuff about a gigantic conspiracy
involving hundreds of thousands of people and that somehow no one
anywhere notices, all the stuff about the mind wiping and mind
imprinting and general mind fucking that goes on, out of all that,
what really breaks your suspension of disbelief is their hypothetical
chemistry difference between brains?"

Cindy shrugged, then smiled. "Just goes against everything I've heard
about biochemistry, that's all. Call it a professional deformation. I
was thinking of going pre-med before getting into economics. Still
might really."

"I didn't know that."

"I don't tell many people. People start treating you differently when
they think you're smart. And I don't like that. So I tone it
down. Take my blonde hair, my cute tush, my round boobs, add a few
giggles here and there --" and she demonstrated, sounding like a
stereotypical airhead, "-- well, no one sees me as a threat."

"You're saying smarts is threatening?"

Cindy looked at Daniel with a mock sad expression on her face, and ran
her hand across his cheek. "Oh, sweetie, if only there were more guys
like you around, a girl could really get used to it."



				* * *



Jackson stumbled into the living room, distracted by a young man on
the large television screen enthusiastically doing a young redhead
girl from behind on a bed. He grinned, turning to Kyra, who was
keeping him from collapsing to the ground. "She's almost as cute as
you are when we fuck, babe!"

"You're drunk Jackson! Come on, sit down before you hurt yourself."

"I love you Kyra!" he said, dropping onto the couch, and bringing her
down with him on his lap. Kyra yelped.

"I'll take it a lot more seriously when you tell me without half a
dozen beers in you. Come on, let me up!"

Jackson hugged her close, running his hands down her back. "God, I
want you so bad." He kissed her neck. Kyra laughed, and pushed him
away.

"Jackson, behave! We'll play when we get my place later. I'll make it
worth your while, I promise."

He dropped his hand to her ass, and squeezed hard enough to make her
yelp. "Come on, Kyra, you been teasing me all evening with those
fucking' pants of yours. Tight painted-on leather pants. You love guys
looking at your ass, don't you? You little cocktease!"

Kyra blushed, and pushed him away once more. "Jackson! Come on!"

Jackson looked at her for a long while, a smile on his face. "Kyra, I
am your dick brother."

Kyra's eyes flashed to the fraternity ring on Jackson's finger, then
glassed over for a few seconds before looking down at the floor, head
bowed. She did not say a word.

He grasped one of her breasts through her thin shirt, making her
gasp. Then he pulled her head up and kissed her. She responded to the
kiss by melting her body into his. His hands went back to her ass.

"I gotta feel my cock inside you, babe! Wanna fuck?"

Kyra slowly licked his chin before responding. "Whatever you say,
Jackson. My body's all yours, to do as you wish, you know that." She
closed her eyes and moaned when he twisted one of her nipples. When
she opened her eyes and looked back at him, there was heat in her
gaze. "How do you want me?"

"Sloppy wet and filthy, babe. Come here." He pulled her towards a dark
corner of the living room. "Take off your pants."

Kyra struggled to slide her leather pants off, but she did it, while
Jackson enjoyed the sight of her long naked legs, having dropped his
own pants down. "Panties too. Give them to me. God, you're dripping
wet babe. Now sit on my cock. No, away from me. Yeah, just like
that. Oh yeah! Fuck!"



				* * *



On the television screen, the male protagonist had just woken up from
an all-night sex romp with the female protagonist's younger and wilder
sister, and for some reason the female protagonist -- a tall and lean
brunette with a distinctly kinky side -- was busy doing a striptease
for some contrived plot reason.

Cindy was quiet, sitting comfortably on Daniel's lap, drinking
slowly. He knew that he should be finding an excuse to get away,
return home, but inertia had set in, and her weight on him did feel
particularly good.

Cindy's legs were crossed in from of his eyes, and she was dangling a
spike heel from one foot. Cindy noticed Daniel looking at it. "You
like?"

"Of course," he said noncommittally.

"I had this boyfriend in high school who just loved to see me in
heels, and wanted me to wear them all the time. He loved to see me
strut around with a pair of stilettos. Sometimes he wanted me nude, at
other times he wanted me with some lingerie on, like a sheer bra and
panties or a translucent short nightie. And there was this very tight
corset that he was fond of and that he loved to take me in." There was
a wistful tone to her voice. "He was a sicko, but a sweet sweet one."

She had a big smile on her face when she leaned towards Daniel and
whispered in his ear, "And speaking of sweet, look at them, aren't
they the cutest?"

"Who?"

"Kyra and Jackson. There." She nodded at a corner of the living room.

Daniel saw that the couple was indeed sitting in a lounge chair in a
darkened corner of the room. Jackson's eyes were closed, and he was
leaning back in the chair. Kyra was on his lap, her back to him,
straddling his legs. She was undulating slowly back and forth, a
subtle wavy motion of the hips. A blanket covered both of them up to
their waists.

"She's fucking him," whispered Cindy in Daniel's ear, her breath warm
on his skin. "Look at him. The bliss on his face. Must feel so good to
slide inside her, inside her tight little tunnel. Look at her, look at
the way she moves, back and forth, back and forth, in and out, in and
out. Must feel fantastic.

"I wonder which hole he's in. She's got an incredible behind, doesn't
she? Always with those tight pants on, just shouting 'look at my ass
-- it's round and hard and so tight it'll make you pop in a second.'
Jackson's got to bugger her every chance he gets." Cindy giggled,
leaning into Daniel. "I love that word! Bugger! Like you got a bug up
your butt!" She tried to stifle her laughter, doing poor work of it.

"Cin, you're drunk."

"Yeah, you told me already. Besides, I like being drunk!"

"Come on, let me get you home."

Cindy ignored him, and leaned forward to look past him, her hand on
his shoulder. "Oh look! He's grabbing her boobs!"

Jackson had indeed slipped his hands underneath Kyra's shirt, and he
was now kneading her breasts, the movement of his hands unmistakable
under the thin material. Kyra's stomach was exposed, his action having
lifted her shirt up, and the taut skin could easily be seen to be damp
in the glow of the television screen. Kyra, clearly enjoying the
stimulation, tossed her head back against Jackson, mouth open, and her
movements become more jerky. She put her arms down to help pumping up
and down on his lap, and Jackson used his grip on her chest to drive
her down on her every thrust.

"Just look at her go, up, down, up, down, up, down, like a machine,"
continued Cindy, her breath short. "She's gonna make him come in no
time, pumping up and down on him like that, probably squeezing him
hard every time he goes all the way in. And look at her -- she's
getting pounded to orgasm. Look at her! Her mouth wide open like that,
I bet anyone could just walk up to her and push her head down and
stick their dick in her mouth and she'd suck it, the little whore!"

She leaned over to whisper in his ear once more. "Too bad she doesn't
have my hair -- long hair's the best to let a guy grab a handful and
guide your head, if you know what I mean." She laughed again, her
forehead pressed against his cheek. When she caught her breath, she
continued. "You know I heard she gives great head, too. She's got this
agile little tongue, a tight throat, a real educated mouth. Look at
her, Dan -- doesn't she look like she needs a dick in her mouth, with
a man shoving it in and out while holding her head down, using her as
a cum sleeve? She needs a man pounding her face hard, the lucky whore,
and getting cum all over her, all over those perky tits of hers! Ah!
Look at him! There he goes! He's coming, coming inside his little
whore!"

And indeed, Jackson's face was clenched, and he pulled Kyra hard
against him, the muscles in his arms tightening under the strain, and
her mouth opened even wider and she shivered noticeably, before
collapsing back against her boyfriend.

Daniel felt Cindy's warm breath on his neck. "That made me so
incredibly horny!" She pressed her legs together, shifting her weight
on his lap and sending delightful feelings up Daniel's cock. "And I
can feel she's made you all hard too, didn't she? She's such a naughty
girl." She pressed her ass down on his cock, and Daniel had to close
his eyes.

"Cin..."

"Aren't you going to kiss me now?"

Slowly, he leaned over, almost against his will, and his lips flirted
with hers, and then her lips parted and he ran his tongue over them
and before too long he was kissing her softly, pulling up her small
body against his, and he could feel her against him, her chest
pressing into his, her legs pressing into his own. She tasted fresh,
something herbal, subtler than mint, and her tongue playfully chased
after his. It felt like coming home. He took her head in one hand, and
kissed her harder, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, demanding. She
responded, equally hungry, pressing against him. After a while she
pulled away, a grin on her face.

He was getting turned on, he realized, and that was not right. He was
not ready for that. He mumbled something vague, some apology,
muttering about a restroom, and Cindy dutifully let him go.

Daniel left the living room, bathed in the glow of the television
screen. He needed some space to calm down. The evening was not going
the way he thought it would go. Cindy had always flirted with him, and
she did indeed have a reputation as a flirt, albeit a nice one, but
tonight she was driving it up one large notch. And his own feelings on
the matter where muddled at best. On the one hand, he was admittedly
attracted to the spunky blonde -- she was sweet, caring, funny, and
her body was... well... she was nice. But he could not shake this
feeling of guilt. What about Jenn? He knew she would come back to him,
from wherever she was. She had to. Otherwise, what was he?

Perhaps Jackson was right, perhaps he did need a distraction. Cindy
was a friend, and she cared about him, and she would not expect
anything from him, and she would understand that he wanted to take
things slow.

He ran into Jackson while looking for the restroom. The young man
slapped him on the back. "You gonna get lucky tonight, man! I can
promise you!"

"You're drunk, Jackson," replied Daniel, feeling like a broken record,
and holding up his friend to keep him from collapsing down on the
ground.

"Of course I'm drunk. Why does everyone have to keep pointing out the
obvious? Do I look senile? Doesn't change the fact -- you gonna get
lucky tonight. Lucky fucker!"

He laughed on his way to the kitchen, wrapping his arm around a random
partygoer. Daniel watched him go, shaking his head.

He resumed his quest for a restroom, and finally found a free one in
an isolated corner of the apartment suite. It was surprisingly large
and clean. He took a deep breath, looked at himself in the mirror for
a long time. He splashed his face with cold water. It helped a
little. He was definitely tipsy, and it was making him vulnerable. He
had to laugh at his situation. Here he was, at a decent party, having
spent the last forty-five minutes with a beautiful girl on his lap
that he was sure would have been more than ready to make out with him
had he even hinted at it, without having really worked for it, living
the dream of college students everywhere, and he was fighting himself
to keep from giving in. That was messed up. He needed to leave, get
back home, get his bearings back.

And then a pair of hands slipped over his eyes, and a body pressed
against his back.

"Guess who?" a voice whispered in his ear.

"Come on, Cindy, cut it out. I think I should go home."

"Guess again," the voice responded. It was definitely not Cindy. He
turned around, and Kyra kissed him on the lips, lingering, a soft kiss
that promised wonders.

Taken by surprise, Daniel took two seconds before pulling his head
back. "Kyra, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? If you don't recognize this
anymore, it's high time someone took care of you."

"Kyra -- fuck! No. Jackson. What about Jackson?"

Kyra smiled, put a finger across his lips. "Who do you think sent me,
silly? Jackson said you needed cheering up, needed to release some
tension, needed to get lucky a bit." She pressed a hand against his
crotch. "I think he likes me." She pecked him on the lips again, her
tongue licking from one corner of his mouth the other.

With a deft hand, she unfastened his belt and pants. "Jackson told me
to find you and blow you. His exact words were 'Find Daniel and give
him your best sloppiest blow job, and make him come so hard he passes
out from the drop of pressure.'" She pressed back against him, having
fished his cock out of his pants, and she started gently caressing
it. She whispered in his ear. "I should tell you that I love being
told what to do, it makes me so hot, and I'm very -- very! --
obedient. So I am going to suck you like you've never been sucked off
before." Her hand, small and soft, felt wonderful, sliding up and
down, barely squeezing, just caressing the skin, pressing with her
fingers on the way down, and her palm on the way up, slowly,
agonizingly slowly. Images of her giving head at the NADA party the
previous semester came unbidden to his mind's eye.

"You have a nice hard cock there. It should fill my throat quite
nicely. So tell me, do you want me to do all the work, or do you want
to fuck my mouth? It's all up to you. I'll do it however you want me
to, like a good little obedient cocksucker." She looked at him from
under her lashes. "Please, sir, please let me be your little
cocksucking servant. I'll be good..."

"Kyra..."

She slowly dropped to her knees, her face level with his hard
shaft. "Tell you what, sir," she said, sliding her hand up and down on
his cock a few times, "how about I just start, and whenever you want
to take over, you just grab my head and start fucking?"

"Kyra... Oh!"

She had slipped her lips over his cock, and slid the hard shaft deep
into her mouth. It felt warm, wet, tight, and Kyra gagged slightly
when the head of his cock hit the back of her throat, but she did not
let up, and pushed further, the cock sliding inside almost
effortlessly. Her nose smashed into his abdomen, she held the position
for several seconds, swallowing repeatedly, sending incredible
sensations down his cock.

She pulled out, letting his cock slip out of her mouth, and caught her
breath. His shaft was shiny with her saliva, and there was a thick
strand connecting the tip to her lips. She looked up at him, a small
smile on her face. "That felt so good, sir. May I have more? Please?"

Daniel should have stopped her, a too small voice in his head was
whining, it wasn't right. But part of him wanted -- no, craved --
release, and it was drowning the voice out. The alcohol definitely was
affecting him, and his body was now in control.

Without waiting for his answer, Kyra plunged back onto his cock, and
once more took her fully into her mouth, but this time she bobbed her
head up and down, sucking hard, and her ministrations had their
intended effect. Daniel leaned back against the counter, and gave
up. Sensing that he was not resisting any longer, Kyra went all
out. In and out drove his cock, and she made it as messy and noisy as
she could -- loud slurping and sucking sounds came from her half-open
mouth, and drool dripped copiously down her chin when it was not
flying about out of her mouth. The front of her shirt was getting
drenched, but she did not seem to mind, focusing on pleasuring the
cock before her to the best of her undeniable abilities.

She let his cock slip out of her mouth again, breathing hard, and she
sank lower to tongue his balls, sucking one then the other in her
mouth. The position forced her into an arch, which exposed her lower
back. Her leather pants were cut low enough to reveal that she was
naked underneath.

She saw him looking, and smiled, swaying her ass left and right slowly
while jacking his cock harder, and then she sank even lower and ran
her tongue on the strip of skin between his balls and his anus. It
felt wonderful, at the same time soothing and arousing.

She emerged to look at him slyly, her head bowed down. "Am I sloppy
enough for you, sir? Would you like more drool? Would you like more
gagging? I can do it any way you want, sir."

Daniel looked at the top of her head, at her short red hair, not
trusting himself to speak. What could he say, anyways?

Kyra's took his silence in stride, entirely nonplussed, and she dove
on his cock again with a vengeance, bobbing her head up and down and
sucking with more force than before. Slurping sounds filled the
restoom, smacking wetly when his cock head pushed through then emerged
from her throat. Her tongue danced across the underside of his cock on
every thrust. Her hands were on his ass, pulling him deeper into her
time and time again.

And then his hips started to jerk and he knew that he was about to
come, and he could tell Kyra knew as well. After a deep hard suck he
thrust his hips out and he had to clamp down on his tongue not to
shout as liquid fire shot up from his loins. The first spurt of semen
went directly into Kyra's throat. She pulled his cock out in time for
the second and third spurts to land across her forehead and across the
bridge of her nose. She wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock to
receive the rest of his load on her tongue. She swallowed with
enthusiasm, her hand milking his cock for everything he had. She did
not take his cock in her mouth, just kept her lips glued to the
tip. When he was done, he collapsed against the counter, while Kyra
dutifully licked his cock clean. She then slowly stood up, wiping off
the cum that had landed on her face and that which had leaked from her
lips with her fingers.

"Mmmmm. Thank you, sir, for using my mouth. I trust you found
it... satisfactory."

She sucked her fingers clean, slowly. Then, with a slight wave, she
left the restroom, while Daniel could do nothing but watch her go, her
ass swaying enticingly the whole way.

What had he done?



				* * *



Later that evening, long after Daniel had checked up on Cindy to make
sure she was okay and to tell her that he was leaving because he was
not feeling well, Cindy cornered an inebriated Jackson.

"What the hell did you do?"

"Whaaat?"

"Look at me, Jackson. What the hell did you do to Daniel?"

"What are you talking about?"

"He left in a hurry. Frazzled. Apologetic. He was mumbling something
about you and Kyra, wouldn't look me in the eyes. So I repeat -- what
the hell did you do?"

"Nothing. Just made his night, that's all, since you weren't about to
do it."

"Jackson, what the hell did you do?" she shouted, drawing stupefied
looks from the drunken students are them.

"Fuck! Relax! I just asked Kyra to give him some head, okay? The poor
guy looked -- what's the word, forewarned? for one? Anyways, yeah, I
got her to blow him."

Cindy's mouth opened a few times, without any word coming
out. Finally, "You're a fucking idiot sometimes, Jackson! I told you
-- I told you I'd take care of Daniel, didn't I? And you had to go and
put your big foot in it. You're -- you're such a guy, Jackson!"

"Come on, it's not that bad. He had a great time, I bet. And you're
just jealous."

"Jealous? That's what you think this is about? Jealous?" She took a
deep breath, trying to calm herself down, clearing away the remaining
cobwebs of the drinks she had ingested earlier in the evening. "I hope
you're going to remember this in the morning, Jackson. Look, I never
asked what you guys did to us, me, Kyra, Serena, what kind of mojo you
worked on us. As I said, I don't mind, I enjoyed it. And Kyra and
Serena seem happy, so who am I to judge? But Daniel's judging. And he
knows something is up. And he's looking, because of Jenn. Because I'm
pretty sure that whatever happened to Jenn is related. And by pimping
your little girlfriend to him tonight, you just proved to him that you
have a hand in what's going on. My guess is that he's feeling too
guilty right now to think about it, but I guarantee you he's going to,
eventually, and he'll ask questions. And if he asks, Jackson, I won't
lie to him, you got that? So my advice to you is to man up, and talk
to him, and tell him what you know, sooner rather than later."

Jackson looked back at her, but the lack of focus in his eyes did not
give any indication that he had understood anything. Cindy debated
arguing her point further, but then simply sighed and left the party.