This Desert Life

By Kalin Ringkvist

Chapter 1: A long Day

Lisa was dead weight as the sound of her alarm dragged her through the dreary fog that lies between sleep and consciousness. She awoke, then forced her eyes open. Thoughts of the work and stress that would come today seemed to weigh her down, but she ignored them, as meaningless as the opinions of a stranger.

Sitting up, she reached to the console by her bed and turned on the overhead light, then took a moment to enter a music selection, which quickly replaced the sound of her alarm. She stretched, adjusted the tracker locked around her neck and began to appreciate being conscious.

But she needed one thing more this morning that would pull her smoothly from sleep to complete wakefulness.

Reaching to the shelf above the foot of her bed, Lisa found her two-foot glass waterpipe and carefully set it on the floor between her legs. On the nightstand, next to the room’s control console sat the pull-stem. A chunk of artificial hash leftover from last night remained almost unburned in the bowl. This perked her spirits a little as she remembered that she still had four grams left in this week's ration.

She grabbed her mini-torch, lifted the bong and pulled herself into a cross-legged position. Fitting the stem into the hole in the main chamber, Lisa lit the torch and began to draw a thick cloud of smoke. She watched it thicken and fill the chamber, then slowly rise up to her mouth. She breathed in a few seconds longer, allowing the bong to turn milky white, then blew out through her nose. Pulling the carb, she took the two feet of smoke deep into her lungs, held it four seconds, then blew out a cloud. She waited to cough, but found no urge. Power lungs.

Today is my birthday, she thought. I wonder if anyone else will remember. Setting the piece on the floor again, she contemplated another hit.

I'm awake, she thought. Not stoned, but awake. That's good enough. She sat for a time, to think about the coming day and her predictions for it, and noticed her mind wandering toward Calgren, that Christian maniac who had bombed Sorn’s main terraforming tractor and sent their world spiraling backward toward the hot and lifeless world it once had been. All in the name of Jesus Christ.

Damn Christians, she thought.

Lisa did not normally find herself contemplating such negative subjects, though this particular incident had occurred on the day of her birth. Lisa had always believed she was tied to Calgren somehow, because of that. Once in a while her curiosity took over and she would wonder about the kind of person he must have been.

She stood, naked but for the tracking devices locked to her wrists, neck and ankles and stretched hard. For a moment she thought of lying back down but quickly steered her mind toward the door.

Heading out of her little room, she walked down the hallway of the slaves’ quarters toward their washroom, and walked straight into a shower stall, cranking up the cold water. It felt nice to be up and moving this quickly. Normally she had to drag herself out of bed. She would have time to smoke another bowl if she chose, or even grab a little breakfast.

After the overnight sweat had washed away, Lisa turned up the heat and allowed herself a couple minutes to enjoy the water, then shut it off.

Stepping out of the stall, she took a clean towel from the nearby rack and as she dried herself she strode to the far wall where their dressing area lay. I feel like something tight and sexy today. She began scanning the clothing to find something that caught her eye.

Midway through her decision process, she heard a door open down the hall. She turned to see Teesla exiting her room, still not dressed. Mr. Faulkner had purchased the young and scrawny girl less than six months ago. Though rather inexperienced, as main server Teesla was Lisa's most important worker. But she already should have been in the kitchen.

"What are you doing still down here?" Lisa asked.

"Good morning," Teesla replied. "I slept in." She did not appear to be in the best of moods.

"Why aren't you at work, Teesla? It's seven-thirty. I specifically told you to be there by seven to help Leonor with the set-up."

"He doesn't mind," Teesla told her.

"Yes, yes, yes," Lisa said slowly. "He minds. He winds up being late and then he gets blamed because you can't get your ass out of bed. He definitely does mind, Teesla. He doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t want to upset you. The stress isn't good for him."

"All right, I'll hurry." Teesla jogged toward the showers.

"Do you have all your clothes picked out," Lisa asked.

"Yes."

Lisa came toward her and stopped Teesla before she entered a stall. She leaned closer and sniffed. "You smell fine. You can take a shower after breakfast. Get your clothes on and move it upstairs."

"Okay," she grumbled. Teesla turned and walked back toward her room.

Lisa smiled. It was rare that she needed to throw orders around. Everyone was usually pretty cooperative. But sometimes it could be fun to make people perform.

She turned back to the clothes rack and began hurrying herself in her selection. She needed to get up there a few minutes early to make sure everything would be set up on time. She would probably need to start serving coffee by eight fifteen. The house was pretty full today and there would surely be some early risers.

No time to finish my bowl, she decided as she came to her room, now fully dressed. She put the bong back on the shelf and closed the door on her way out and headed toward the main level.

At the top of the stairs a door opened into the main hallway. Lisa exited the slaves’ quarters and entered the kitchen, three doors down.

Leonor already looked a little stressed as he beat batter with a wire whisk, maybe a little too rapidly. A few drops had already spilled onto the counter. The household budget manager wouldn't like that, but Lisa didn't say anything.

"Where's Teesla?" she asked.

"She's trying to figure out the beverage machine," Leonor told her. "Someone's already down."

"Fuck." Lisa sighed. "Why didn't she come and get me?"

Leonor shrugged.

She turned and quickly headed toward the swinging dining room doors. She entered just in time to see Raflin Deru, the agricultural representative from the southern province take a drink of his coffee and immediately spit it back into his cup.

"Like fucking tar!" shouted Mister Deru.

"Terribly sorry, sir," said Lisa, walking in on their conversation. "Teesla will drink this cup and will enjoy the hell out of it, and I will make you a fresh cup, just the way you like it: double sugar, hold the tar." Taking care to keep her eyes averted from his, she took Raflin’s cup and handed it to Teesla then motioned for her to get back in the kitchen. Lisa then proceeded to restart the beverage machine and adjust the settings.

"Goddam that little girl is stupid," Deru said as soon as she was out the door. "Where did your master find her, Lisa?"

"Auction somewhere. He brought her home one day. Put one of my better waiters on driving duty."

"Basically screwed you in the process, huh?"

"Not really," Lisa replied. "Teesla isn't that bad most of the time. She's not awake yet, but the coffee should take care of that."

"You reward her for making a mistake by giving her coffee?"

"Oh, Mr. Deru," Lisa replied. "She was just trying to help. She should have just come get me, but I hardly think it's spanking time. I'm sure it won't happen again."

"Spanking time... maybe that's what that little girl needs."

"Maybe. Probably not though. I think it would just make her that much worse."

"Well, she irritates me," Deru said.

"Would you like me to manage your table through breakfast, sir?"

"No. That would throw off your system. I know that much. I've been watching you serve meals here for the last six years."

"It wouldn't be a problem, sir. I've done it before." She placed Deru's fresh cup of coffee on the table before him.

He sipped and placed it back on the table without comment. "With that little thing as an assistant?"

"Well, no," Lisa replied. "But even so, it wouldn't slow things down too much."

"That's quite all right," he told her. "You let the wench handle my table. I think I want to fuck with her a little bit."

"As you wish, sir." Lisa headed for the door, her mood somewhat darkened. Raflin Deru could be a true asshole sometimes. She could imagine him doing something today to really upset Teesla.

"You go and yell at your assistant, Lisa. When you're done, I want to talk to you about something."

Lisa entered the kitchen where Teesla had begun helping Leonor. Lisa began stacking plates and reorganizing the set up area, and noticed Leonor drinking the coffee while he worked. "How is your beverage?" she asked.

"Pretty damn good."

"I'm supposed to be yelling at you right now," Lisa said, turning to Teesla.

"I'm really sorry about that," Teesla said. "I didn't know what to do. I asked Mr. Deru if he knew how to set up the beverage machine but he just told me I was stupid."

"Well next time, come and ask me. Whenever you're unsure about anything come and get me."

"Okay."

Lisa finished organizing and began to walk back toward the dining room.

"Do you think you could help with--" Teesla started.

"Mister Deru asked me to speak with him for a moment. Maybe when we're finished I'll throw some help your way." Lisa grumbled to herself. My job is guest relations and backup server. I've been helping out in the kitchen a lot lately.

She shook her head as she opened the swinging doors. Don't think about it. You do what needs to be done for everything to run smoothly. That's what you're here for.

"Now, Mr. Deru, what did you wish to discuss with me?"

"Sit down, Lisa." He paused. "What has your master told you about the equipment deal we've been discussing?"

"Not much," she replied, pulling up a chair next to his. "Just that you wish to purchase a load of agricultural equipment."

"He didn't tell you any more than that?"

"He wasn't interested in talking about it," she said. "He had other things on his mind at the time."

"He did? I was led to believe that Faulkner was desperate to make this deal."

"I don't think so. I think the machinery is pretty costly. I think he's just trying to give you a deal...” She cocked her head. “I could be wrong."

"Are you sure he hasn't been talking about this. I'm taking a long time to make up my mind and you would think he'd be getting impatient."

"Not at all. He doesn't mind giving you all the time you need. I figure you're the one who needs to worry about time lines since planting season in the southern province is quickly approaching."

He nodded. "Okay, that's all I wanted to ask you. Please leave me alone now to think."

As Lisa rose to leave, she stole a look at Raflin Deru's face. He looked much more troubled than she had expected. This seems like something more serious than the sale of some cloning and planting equipment, she thought as she entered the kitchen.

______ ______ ______

Lisa stood at a table, across the room from Mister Deru. Strangely, she found herself watching him instead of concentrating on the guest that was currently giving his order. But she allowed his words to float through the back of her head and dropped them into her memory banks. She repeated the order just as Deru stood, and Teesla seemed to come out of nowhere to run headlong into him. Good thing she wasn't carrying anything, Lisa thought. Breakfast was almost half over and everything had run smoothly up until this point.

Lisa turned to the next person at the table, deciding she needed to actually look at this one. But out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mister Deru pushing Teesla against the wall, and Lisa's stress level began to rise again.

After taking her last order, she turned to leave and noticed that most of the guests had now directed their attention to the scene with Teesla and Raflin. Lisa concentrated on his voice from across the room, but could hear only, "...pants.............girl...baby.........spanking!" The anger on his face seemed to be spreading. Teesla almost appeared to be crying, but Lisa couldn’t quite tell.

"Shit," Lisa said to herself as she entered the kitchen. "Shit!" she said louder after the doors closed behind her.

"What's the problem?" asked Leonor. Things had finally seemed to calm down for him and no longer was he cooking at such a frantic rate.

Lisa entered her orders into a little keypad built into the servers counter before answering. "Teesla pissed off Mr. Deru. He's out there screaming at her."

"Is that bad?" Leonor began walking toward the swinging doors to take a peek.

"Could be very bad," Lisa told him. Of all the guests here, why did Teesla have to choose Raflin? Lisa thought.

"Oh, shit," Leonor said. "She's going to be a wreck when she comes back."

"What's he doing to her?" Lisa asked quickly.

"He's got her over his knee. He's spanking her bare ass. Right there in the middle of the dining room. I can’t even believe he's doing this." He continued gawking through the window.

Lisa's weary sigh turned quickly to an anguished groan.

"This is hard to believe," said Leonor. "He's still going. That man is not happy with her—or else he’s having a lot of fun. What did she do to deserve this, Lisa?"

"I'm not sure," she replied. "Quit watching it, Leonor. This is going to be humiliating enough for her."

Leonor moved away from the door and started on Lisa's orders. After several moments Lisa became curious and decided to take a peek. Deru had pulled his chair away from the table and had her draped over his lap like a child. Her pants lay in a pile on the floor nearby.

Her heart began to burn for Teesla. "Stop it," she said quietly. "Stupid ass-hole, just stop it." Several moments later, when it appeared her silent command would not be effective, she turned away. Lisa leaned against the serving counter and waited for the scene to end itself and Teesla to return to the kitchen. It would be okay to be late with a few orders in order to make sure Teesla would be able to continue working.

After what seemed like several minutes, Teesla burst back into the kitchen, tears already dripping from her cheeks. She stopped for a moment and caught eye contact with Lisa. "I can't--" she started. "I'm sorry Lisa--" And she began running toward the hall, clearly intending to return to her room.

"Wash your face!" Lisa shouted after her. "Get yourself together, and get yourself back up here immediately!"

Leonor groaned. "Why aren't you stopping her? We're screwed if we don't have her help."

"It's not worth it," Lisa said. "She's too humiliated to function at anything right now. Maybe she'll be back."

The swinging doors opened and Dale Faulkner walked quickly into the kitchen. "Where did Teesla go?"

"I sent her to get cleaned up, sir," Lisa replied. "She's very upset, and would probably anger someone even more if she were to continue serving at this point."

Faulkner sighed angrily. "I'm going to cut off her rations. Tell her that after breakfast."

Lisa glanced over at Leonor. He could probably hear them talking. If Dale and Lisa were alone she would argue with him over Teesla's punishment, but she had no chance of changing his mind if he knew someone could hear.

"Yes, sir," she said. "I will inform her."

"Are you going to be able to make sure this kind of thing never happens again, Lisa? Or do I need to take further disciplinary action?"

"I will take care of the situation, sir."

Dale nodded. "Okay. I trust you, Lisa.” His voice quieted, possibly to the point where Leonor could no longer hear. “Another thing: I want you to pay a visit to Mr. Deru in his room tonight. He strikes me as being a little frustrated lately."

"Sir?" Lisa said. "Mr. Deru? He's been staying here for years and has never requested my presence in his sleeping chambers."

"Nevertheless, I think he wants you," Dale Faulkner replied. "He doesn't want to admit it. Make it seem like nobody else would ever know. Get him to unwind a little. He’s very stressed right now. Cheer him up. Fuck his brains out, Lisa." With that, he turned and headed back into the dining room.

Lisa sighed as she waited for the rest of her food to come up. Closing her eyes for a moment she concentrated on cleansing herself of the stress. Today will be a long day, she thought.

______ ______ ______

Chapter 2: The Stress of the Job

"I'm sorry about the incident this morning." Teesla spoke over her shoulder as they descended the stairs into the slave’s quarters.

"Thanks for coming back to work," Lisa replied coldly. They hadn't spoken since Teesla returned, except when it was necessary to perform their duties. But now they could both take a short break.

"I suppose you probably got yelled at a bit for all of this."

"A little bit," replied Lisa. "Do you want to match a bowl? We should talk for a few minutes."

"Actually, I would offer to smoke you one except I’ve already smoked up all of mine."

"Well then, come with me." Lisa entered her room and Teesla followed. "Shut the door." Lisa picked up her bong and handed it to Teesla. "Finish that off."

After taking a seat on the floor, Teesla took one large toke, then tried handing it back.

Lisa refused. "Finish it off," she said. You look like you need it. But then I want you to tell me what happened today between you and Mr. Deru. Why is he so pissed off at you?"

Teesla paused a moment, poked the bowl with the butt of the torch, then took another hit. She held it for a moment, then let it out with a sigh. "All I did was bump into him," she started. "I guess I was being a little clumsy, but he started yelling at me and I was already in a bad mood when I woke up. I didn't take that well and I started crying. I tried to stop myself but I just couldn't help it. I knew it would only make him more angry, but there was nothing I could do."

She looked down at the bowl, seemed to contemplate another hit, then looked back at Lisa. "He stopped yelling for a second and I was going to apologize for bumping into him, but I couldn't stop crying. This was really not the day for this to happen, Lisa."

"Why not?" Lisa asked.

Teesla set the bong to one side. "As of tomorrow I will have been a slave for one year. One year ago today, was my final day of freedom."

Lisa smiled. "Well isn’t this just an extra special day? Today is my birthday. It’s also the twenty year anniversary of Calgren’s bombing.”

Teesla nodded but did not reply.

“You don't seem like someone who's been a slave all her life,” Lisa commented. “What did they convict you of? You’re not a Christian are you?"

"Fuck no. I hope you’re joking, Lisa.”

“Of course I’m joking.”

“They convicted me of robbery. I was trying to steal some food because my mom disappeared and me and my little brother were starving. I ended up beating the crap out of the store manager in order to get away, but the police caught up with me a couple blocks away. Arrested my brother too." She paused a moment and Lisa noticed tears forming in Teesla's eyes.

"Have you heard from your mother since then?"

"No. I don't know where she is. Or my brother. Nobody thinks I should even care about them. I'm not legally related to them anymore." The tears started flowing, very cautiously at first.

Lisa considered dropping to the floor to give Teesla a hug, but thought better of it, knowing that somehow it would seem phony. Instead, she simply watched.

Teesla passed Lisa the bong.

Lisa took a hit, then passed it back to Teesla, who sucked the last crumbs of the bowl into the main chamber, gaining only a small amount of smoke. Teesla seemed to wrap up her emotions fairly quickly, getting a few tears out, then pushing the rest back.

"Anyway," Lisa finally said, "So Mister Deru decided to go through all of that simply because you bumped into him?"

"Well… I was going to apologize... but I was too upset. Mr. Deru--he called me a little baby, told me to pull my pants down, said I needed a spanking, and I just couldn’t do it."

"Why not?"

"I was too shocked," Teesla replied. "Why would he do such a thing to me? I just couldn't believe it. That is absolutely humiliating, Lisa. He's a fucked up ass hole."

"You’re right. I think the same thing about him, but that doesn't matter. You need to do what he says. You know that, Teesla. It is not your place to judge your master's request. You simply do it without thinking. I’ll bet that if you had dropped your pants when ordered he just would have laughed at you and told you to pull them back up. He wanted you to freak out so he could have an excuse to punish you. Don’t let them play with you like that, Teesla. Just do what they say."

Teesla nodded and sighed her agreement. "It made him even more angry when I didn't move. I knew it would, but I couldn't do it, not at first. But I was about to do it the second time he yelled at me but he grabbed me and ripped my pants off and I think you know the rest of the story."

Lisa nodded silently, picking up her water pipe. She loaded another bowl, took a small toke and passed it back to Teesla.

"I wasn't meant for this life," Teesla said as she stared down at the bong in her lap. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to handle this. It's been a year, Lisa, and I still keep fucking up. This isn't my life. I wasn't supposed to end up here."

"Do you think about physical freedom often, Teesla?"

Lisa noticed tears building again in Teesla's eyes. "Yes," she said. "All the time. Do you wish you were free, Lisa? Don't you ever wish you could get up in the middle of the night and walk into town."

"I suppose sometimes I think about it," Lisa said. "But thinking about it, and wishing for it isn't going to make it happen. The fact is that here we are. We're slaves in Mr. Faulkner's residence. For the time being, we're trapped. It won't be forever, and possibly not even for the rest of our natural lives, but for now it's best just to accept it and make the best out of the situation. But you see, Teesla, the situation really isn't all that bad. We're eating better than half the people on this planet. More than half, probably. That's something to really appreciate."

"Are you going to be a slave all your life, Lisa?" Teesla passed the bong back.

"Probably."

"Doesn't that burn your heart to say that?"

"No," Lisa replied. "I am who I am. This is where I was meant to be. It's not a terrible life. In fact, it's a very good life, because I have two choices: be happy or be miserable."

"How do you do it, Lisa?"

"Do what?" Lisa put her face down to take another hit.

"How do you keep such a positive attitude all the time. In the time I've known you I don't think I've ever seen you truly sad?"

"For one thing, it's my job to be happy all the time. Mr. Faulkner bought me because I was a cute and happy little girl. But how do I do it? That's a little more complicated. It has a lot to do with being honest with yourself. You're a slave, Teesla, but that doesn't mean that you're dirt, and it doesn't mean you're powerless. It does mean that you have certain physical and social restrictions. You can still have many of the things that you want, but you need to take your restrictions into consideration.

"The one thing you must remember all the time, while you're kissing ass, or serving food or cleaning up after some slob is that these people you're serving don't have life figured out any better than you do. They're all just as lost. And I'll bet a decent number of them feel as out of place as you do. But maybe they don't realize what they're feeling."

Lisa held out her right wrist, displaying the cuff and tracking device with built in explosives and restraints. "I've worn these for six years, but I’ve had cuffs like these all my life. Faulkner is the only person with the key. I'll probably die in these things, but does that really matter? They can lock up my arms and legs and they can trap me inside this compound, but they can't control who I am, unless I allow them to. They can't tell me what to think about. They can never control my hopes and dreams. They can never control my soul, and they could never break my heart. These things are much more important than your physical body. I'm just as free as any of them, and so are you."

She heard a knock at the door.

"Come in."

Leonor stepped in. "Mister Faulkner asked me to tell you, Lisa, that he would like to speak with you sometime within the next half hour."

She nodded. Standing, Lisa handed the bong to Leonor. "Teesla," she said. "Just do what they say the moment they say it. The physical world is not the most important aspect of life, so there's really no reason not to make them happy if trivial things are all they care about. Do not allow them to have power over your emotional intelligence." She pointed at the bowl. "You two finish that off."

Lisa ran up the stairs and a short distance through the main hallway into Dale Faulkner's main office.

"You wanted to see me sir?" she said, closing the door.

He nodded. "Did you speak with Raflin about the equipment deal?"

"Yes," she said. "He didn't tell me anything. He wanted to know if you were overly anxious to make the deal."

"And what did you tell him?"

“Nothing. Why? Is this deal important?”

"Okay," he said. "Yeah, I really need this deal to go through. Do you think he's likely to take it?"

"If I had to place a bet, I'd say yes. But I can't say for sure. If I'm going to visit him tonight, I could possibly talk to him more about it."

"Don’t bring up the subject yourself," Dale told her.

"Of course not."

"He probably won't want to talk to you about it."

"Probably not," Lisa shrugged.

"But if he does say something, or you get a hint as to whether or not he's going to go for it, let me know."

"I will," she told him. "Why are you so concerned with this deal?"

He sighed and stretched. "I really don't know." He stared at the floor and Lisa stole a look at his face. He appeared stressed, like his belly ached from some overlying fear.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

He methodically scratched his chin for a long moment. "My approval rating is below ten percent. Crops are growing a bit less than expected this year. This is certainly the worst year ever for food production, but every year is. We have a great deal of unused equipment. If I can't sell it to the southern province, most of it won't ever be used again." He paused and slumped in his seat on the couch. "But it's not as big of a deal as I'm making it out to be. What is really concerning me is a report I'm supposed to be receiving later today on the environmental status of our planet, focusing on the northern province. If it has bad news, and I'm afraid it will, it will hit the communication networks, and my rating is bound to take another drop and I may not make it to the end of my term. Elections are in less than a year. I don't stand a chance at this point."

"You've made it twelve years as the most powerful man on the planet," Lisa reminded him. "Isn't that enough for you?"

"I may not make it twelve years if I'm booted out of office."

She shook her head. "That couldn't happen. Your approval rating is a representation of the citizen's displeasure with the current food and heat conditions, both of which are pretty much out of your control. You've done everything you possibly could for this planet. I think the population understands that, even if the surveys say otherwise. You might not get re-elected, but you certainly won't be kicked out of office."

"Look at me, Lisa," Dale said. She looked up to make eye contact, a rarity between slave and master, but Lisa and Dale had a different sort of relationship than she'd ever seen. "Do you seriously believe that?" he asked her.

"Yes."

"Okay." Relief showed on his face. "I needed to hear you say that."

Strange, she thought, how he allows me to have such control over his emotions.

"Your predictions have rarely been wrong. I've owned you for eleven years and I can't remember a single time you've been wrong."

"I'm sure it's happened once or twice," she said.

"Maybe. But we won't think about that right now." Dale Faulkner seemed to relax himself into the couch a little more. "That's all I wanted to talk to you about."

"Okay," Lisa said, "I did want to ask you one thing, though, Dale, about taking away Teesla's smoke rations. I don't think you need to punish her quite so severely. You must admit that the situation has already been pretty miserable for her."

He nodded and paused. "If I get the equipment contract, I will bring Teesla's ration's back to normal as soon as Raflin Deru leaves. Until then, however, she's cut off."

"That sounds fair," Lisa replied. She bowed to him quickly, a courtesy he did not require of her, and backed away. She turned and opened the door.

"There's no reason to allow yourself to get stressed out, sir. Worrying is simply a waste of time." She closed the door behind her.

______ ______ ______

Chapter 3: Sex & Starvation

Lisa stood before Raflin in the doorway to his bedchambers. She wore a short green dress that revealed half of her thighs, over a set of transparent underwear. "I'm terribly sorry to disturb you this evening, Mister Deru," she said quietly. "May I enter your room, sir?"

"Sure." Raflin backed up a step, allowing her space to enter.

Passing, she brushed his stomach. She twirled gracefully to face his chest, and continued backwards several steps.

"What's the occasion for this visit, Lisa?"

"I've been thinking about you all day," she lied. "You seemed not yourself this morning."

"Do you mean the whole spanking thing? I was kind of just having fun. I wanted to embarrass her a little, that's all."

"I think you succeeded, sir." Lisa grinned widely, allowing it to creep onto her face over several seconds. She laughed shyly.

"What's that smile for?"

"Sorry, Sir," she said. "I'm extremely stoned, and was just thinking about the whole situation this morning, and how seriously Teesla took it. And I was thinking about..."

"Well I think I've dealt all the spankings I can for one day. I'm sorry to disappoint you... but..."

Still standing, she crossed her legs, and giggled girlishly. "That's not exactly what I'm here for."

Raflin Deru took a short step toward her and reached out to pinch a nipple through her dress.

"Are you a naughty agricultural representative?" Lisa asked him.

"Very much so," he replied, running a finger around her left breast.

She took a step back, his hand dropping to his side. Touching the flesh of her inner thigh with her forefinger she drew the bottom of her skirt up a couple inches.

This is pretty childish, she thought. I’m acting like a complete dork and he doesn’t even notice. This guy is kind of gross anyway, when you think about it.

They each took a tiny step forward and Raflin's hand strayed toward her right thigh, tickled for a moment, then settled in just under her skirt.

Maybe I only think he's gross because I've known him for so long. Maybe I can make this fun.

With one finger she hooked her left shoulder strap and let it drop to her elbow, then slowly moved for the other one. Looking up quickly, she batted her eyes and for a couple seconds made eye contact, knowing it would make him ever so slightly uncomfortable.

"Hey," he said.

"Ohh..." she started, "looks like both of us are being a little naughty today." She took a step back and his hand dropped again. Pulling her hands free of the straps, the dress fell to her waist.

Raflin stepped forward and touched her breast again, rubbing the nipple, now hardened under the transparent bra. He reached down and pulled the dress free of her hips, and it fell to the floor.

"Sir!" Lisa exclaimed playfully, "Do you realize what you are doing? I am simply a lowly slave girl. I don't know how to even present myself in the presence of a man like yourself."

"You seem to be doing fine so far."

"But sir," she rubbed a hip softly against his leg. "You are an extremely powerful man on this world and I'm just a smelly serving wench."

He laughed and ran his hand quickly around and down her back and clutched suddenly to her butt. Raflin bent and smelled her neck, then moved to sniff slowly in her cleavage. "You smell good to me," he told her. He stood. His hands moved quickly to her breasts, efficiently unhooking the bra. She let him rub her nipples for several long moments before stepping back once again.

"I should put on some music," she said. She headed toward the console on the far wall. "Do you mind?"

He shrugged. "No, I guess not."

"Any requests? I feel like something I can groove to."

"No, I don't really care."

She knew that her selection probably wouldn't have a positive effect on Raflin's mood, but she needed something to distract her mind from what was about to happen. Bending to reach the console, she made her selection, which came immediately over the speakers throughout the room. The music encompassed her for a moment. She closed her eyes and swung her butt in rhythm. Standing and turning, she danced her way slowly closer to him, opening her eyes infrequently.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," she replied.

"Take off your underwear."

She responded immediately, but removed them slowly, swaying to the music. She stepped out as he lowered himself and began running his hands up and down her body. A moment later he began sucking her nipples, hunched over awkwardly, and continued for a couple minutes. She made slight moaning sounds to give the impression that she was becoming aroused, though the sensations held little emotional influence.

Raflin stood. "You know what you should do now?" he said. "You should get down on your knees and suck my dick."

She dropped, catching herself with her hands on the floor. "Hmm-mmm," she giggled, as though she could hardly contain her excitement, as she began unbuttoning his pants. They dropped to the floor silently.

Okay, that's not so bad. Raflin was fifteen or twenty years older than Lisa and she had hoped that his penis didn't look too old. Fortunately, his wasn't as hairy as most, which made it a little more attractive.

She drew it all into her mouth immediately, then closed lightly around it, held for a moment, and drew back, moistening thoroughly. She kissed a thigh, then the other. She licked his balls for several moments, bouncing them back and forth. She licked his cock, base to tip, kissed and sucked for a moment on a thigh, then licked once again. Concentrating mostly on the music still coursing through her, she continued teasing him for several minutes before sensing the possibility of Raflin becoming impatient. Her actions were automatic, calculated. But after only about a minute of more continuous sucking, he pulled away.

"Very good," he told her. "I'm impressed." Stepping out of his pants, he turned toward the bed against the back wall. He walked toward it, removing his shirt as he went. "Come here."

Lisa came to stand next to him at the edge of the bed. Looking down at his crotch, she flicked her tongue.

"Lay down," he told her. "Face down."

She obeyed, pulling herself up, onto the bed so that her legs stuck out at the knees. He crawled over her and began rubbing her with both hands, starting at her back. The pressure relaxed her and she grinned, naturally. He rubbed across her back, shoulders, then down her sides to her butt, and down her thighs, spreading her legs as he went. His right hand crawled back up and found the spot between her legs. He massaged the area with a finger tip. A moment later it was inside of her. She sighed, the sensation not altogether unpleasurable. After a minute of stroking, he had two fingers deep inside her. She gasped, mostly for effect.

He then brought his fingers up, and for a moment massaged her asshole, then returned them. Repeating this several times, he moistened the area, each time, penetrating a little deeper into her butt.

Well this just went from a slightly pleasurable sensation to a strange and uncomfortable one. This is going to hurt, isn't it?

The tightness ran up her body as her sphincter widened. She moaned spontaneously. He fingered it for several long moments, the sensations making Lisa shake slightly, and moan without prompting from her brain. This is not going to be fun, she thought.

"Okay, get up. On your hands and knees." He laughed. "I'm taking a ride on the caboose."

She did as she was told, though acknowledged the fact that she didn't really want to. Maybe this won't be so bad, she told herself. I'm only thinking it's going to suck because I don't like having things shoved up my ass. Lot's of people enjoy this kind of thing.

He slid himself in easier than she expected. It was not overly painful, though the sensation overpowered her other brain functions for several moments before she became accustomed to it. She might have found it exciting, though it was all too easy to imagine herself pooping, which was not a comfortable thought.

Removing himself sooner than she had expected, Raflin moved close to her side. "Let me lie down."

She moved herself quickly, rolling to one side.

He lay himself down, sprawled out widely. "Get on top," he ordered.

Real sex. Good for you! No more of this pointless buttfucking. Let's make him come and I can go and get some sleep. She lowered herself, and he entered. She moved rhythmically, attempting to give him as much sensation as possible. A few moments later he rolled her over and reinserted himself.

On her back now, Lisa took hold of the bedposts and began faking the rise to her climax, timing it with his. She could have made herself come, though she decided it wasn't worth the mental energy. After just a few minutes he removed himself, and fell to her side, panting.

Done? Wam, bam. Quick and easy. Sometimes I impress myself. This is efficiency at work here. She gave him a moment. "Would you like me to do anything, sir?"

"Leave."

"Yes, of course." She hopped up and quickly threw on her clothing.

"Good job," he told her as she opened the door to leave.

Closing the door behind her, Lisa hurried away from Raflin's room, but slowed as she rounded a corner in the hallway and headed down the stairs. Robot sex. Happy happy robot sex. Or maybe zombie sex. No, zombies are supposed to be gross. Rotten and full of maggots. Robot sex.

I want to sleep now. Sleep... now.

It's nice to be this stoned again. That probably would have been very unenjoyable if I wasn't. My ass doesn't hurt like it should either. Well, maybe it does a little bit.

I wonder what time it is.

On the main level now, Lisa turned out of the stairwell and down the hall toward the slave's quarters. She stopped quickly to look at the clock in Dale Faulkner's office--just before midnight. I have time for six hours sleep--and noticed him sitting on a couch, reading from a handheld computer screen.

"Sir?" she said.

He looked up. "Are you still up?" he asked. "How was Raflin?"

"I think he was quite good. What are you still doing awake sir? Is everything okay?"

“No,” he replied as Lisa's thought processes refocused themselves now on this situation. Dale's jaw quivered, as though he were about to cry--something Lisa had never seen.

"May I ask what's wrong, sir? Or do you want me to simply go away?"

"Come in," he told her. "Shut the door."

She walked in and sat across from him on the second couch.

"Don't look at me," he told her.

"Of course not," she said.

A long pause. Lisa decided not to say anything as she stared at his feet and waited.

She heard him sniff, and was suddenly overcome with an overwhelming feeling like something was seriously wrong.

"I received the report on time," he started.

The environmental status report, she remembered.

"It's worse than I expected," Dale said. His voice quivered. "It’s a lot worse." Another long pause.

Lisa suddenly became aware of her heart beating much faster than usual. "How bad is it?"

"They haven’t been able to do anything. Without a large scale unmanned tractor to dispense the sand pigment and microorganisms through the middle region, there’s just nothing we can do. We simply don’t have the equipment to send humans that far south, but if we don’t our planet is simply going to continue heating, year after year. The experts are expecting that within a hundred years, this planet will be incapable of supporting Life. Calgren truly doomed us all with his Christian insanity.”

Mister Faulkner stopped talking, but Lisa could not begin to form a response. She sat, slack jawed, still concentrating on his shoes. The mood she had been enjoying was now thoroughly shattered and replaced with this strange sense of doom. Somehow she already knew it to be true. The signs had been there for years, but she never consciously recognized them.

"I don't know what to say, sir," Lisa replied.

"I'm getting off this planet," he said. "Possibly before my term is up."

"How are you going to do that?" she asked. "Are there ships coming to assist in the terraforming?"

"We've been sending messages for the last twenty years. The Dorian system is still the closest human colony and is forty light-years away. It’s another twenty years before they receive those messages. We'll be receiving terraforming equipment in sixty to one hundred years, assuming that that outpost has it just sitting there waiting to be used, which I somehow doubt.”

"So how are you going to get off the planet?"

"We are having some visitors," Dale replied. "I received a message a couple months ago that a ship is coming in. The message was rather strange, but it said that a ship is coming to Sorn to try to sell us something. I figure they can sell me a ride back to where they came from."

"Sir, have you had time to think about this idea?" Lisa asked.

"No," he replied slowly. "I think I came up with it while I was talking to you."

Lisa paused. "Sir, I sense you are inebriated." If she could have looked directly at him she probably would have known immediately.

"Do you want a bong hit?" he asked. "Shit, we're all going to die anyway--do you want an alcoholic beverage?"

"Yes to the bong," she replied. "This is rare for you to be drinking, sir. And I don't think I've ever seen you smoke." She took the small glass waterpipe as he passed it into her line of sight.

"Finish that off," he told her. "It's not doing anything for me."

She took one hit from the synthetic hash, only half finished, forgetting about how high she already was.

"I hope that stuff makes you feel better," Dale said. "It's making me think more."

"I can't imagine it would help, considering you don't smoke very often. I don't suppose the alcohol would do you much good, but I really don't know anything about that." She put her face down to take another hit, but paused when her head suddenly started to spin. She looked up for a moment, her view missing Dale’s face, but catching a glimpse of his body language. "How are you dealing with this news, sir?" she asked.

A long silence.

"If you don't mind me asking."

After another pause: "Sir, are you okay?"

"Do you realize what the history books will say about me?" he asked.

"It doesn't sound like there's going to be too many history books," Lisa replied.

"I'm going to be impeached. That's all there is to it. Perhaps the people will collapse the government and live like normal humans, but even that couldn’t save our planet now… and everyone’s going to blame me."

"No you won’t be impeached. Nobody has any reason to blame you for all of this. You know that there's nothing you could have done. Haven't you been properly funding the terraforming projects? The public is going to blame the christian’s, I think."

“Why?”

“Because it’s their fault. God told them to destroy the terraforming equipment, did he not?”

“We’ve been blaming Christians for the last twenty years and it hasn’t done anything for us. No, they’re going to start looking for someone new to blame. I didn't even have an idea of how serious this was until today. This is a pretty major fuck up. We've destroyed an entire planet and killed twelve million people. The accusations are going to fly."

"I don't think that people are going to seriously blame you, sir. I'm no sociologist or political commentator, but I find it highly doubtful that you will be impeached. Not unless you have some karma coming your way." She paused to take a small toke. "Do you have bad karma, sir?"

"Don't talk to me about karma," Dale replied quickly. "I'm a fucking politician." He sighed. "I think I need to sleep this off. Maybe I'll feel better in the morning. I might be skipping breakfast tomorrow."

"Do you want me to leave now?" Lisa asked.

"Finish your hash first. Then you can leave."

This was gladly done. She stood. "I expect that this will all be okay in the end, sir."

"Do you mean you expect we're going to solve the problems and Sorn will heal itself, or do you mean simply that I will survive to be an old man, and not be kicked out of office?"

"Now I'm not sure about that," she replied. "I suppose whichever you're more concerned about. It's just a gut feeling."

"So I'm trusting in your feelings."

"I've been right before."

"True." He sighed and settled into his seat.

She set the waterpipe on an end table and headed for the door. "Get some sleep, sir. Drink some water." She closed the door on her way out.

Lisa walked to her room, finding her mind entirely blank now, as if thinking about it in the hallway would let the secret out. When she closed the door to her room, she stopped to wonder what she would do next. It would probably be a good idea just to slip into bed, but even now, she had an urge to smoke another bowl before sleeping.

Or I could just stop for a moment...

The end of the world.

What should I think about that?

This is harsh. How does this affect me?

I hope Dale isn't impeached. He probably won't be, but if he is, I'm not going to be looking too pretty. If he makes it to the end of his term without too much ridicule--I wonder if he would ever sell me anyway. Yes, of course he would, if he couldn't afford to feed us both. But what if he leaves the planet. Could I convince him to take me with him? He’d make me agree to be his slave on some other planet, but it would be a green planet with lakes, rivers, trees, food…

Lisa crossed the room to sit on her bed. She rested her chin in her hands.

That would be a long shot, but a possibility.

She looked at the shelf where sat her bong. Turning back, she decided to turn on some music, which she did with the touch of a single button. Looking back at the shelf, she thought, this has been one crazy day, and rose to fetch her waterpipe.

______ ______ ______

Chapter 4: A Trip to the Jail

Breakfast went smoothly. Teesla served Raflin's table without a problem, and Lisa never spoke to him. After serving, then snagging a few bites for herself, she went to the slave's level and took a shower. On the way out she paused by the door to her room and contemplated loading herself a small bowl, like she often did at this time, but decided that she was too curious about what was going on in her owner’s mind right now. The story was probably already on the news.

She found Dale Faulkner in his office, the first place she looked.

"Lisa," he said the moment she walked in the door, "I need you to set up the dining room for a press conference in two hours."

"Okay," she replied. "Shall I gather my usual team?"

"Yes. You're missing Leep. Take whoever you want off of garden duty to replace him."

"Yes, sir," she said. "Where is Leep, sir?"

"He drove to pick up some things at the grocery distribution."

"Oh," she said, feeling suddenly awkward.

"What?" asked Faulkner. He stood.

"Nothing. I'll get right on it, sir." She paused. "May I ask if you are doing okay? You're not too nervous?"

"I'm not sure yet.” Dale walked from behind his desk toward the door. "I need to meet with my consultants in five minutes."

She nodded and backed from the room immediately. Heading toward the dining room, she thought of Leep. It seemed ironic somehow that he was picking up food on the day the world found out it was destined to starve itself. Her mood darkened suddenly. Mister Faulkner hadn't seemed too happy. She wondered if that was a bad sign.

______ ______ ______

Immediately after the press conference Dale Faulkner retreated to his chambers with several of his advisors. Lisa hadn't had a chance to witness any of the conference and was curious to how it went, but decided it would be best not to speak to him until he called upon her. He did not come down for lunch or dinner.

In the evening, as Lisa was in her room, getting ready to head up to the kitchen and storage areas to make sure everything was locked up tightly, Estinian, one of the garden-duty slaves walked in. "Mister Faulkner wishes to see you. Something about Leep."

"Where is Leep?" Lisa asked. "I haven't seen him all day."

Estinian shrugged as Lisa turned to head up the stairs.

Entering his office, Lisa saw Dale Faulkner angrily typing at his computer. "You wanted to see me, sir?" She closed the door.

He looked up. "I received a call from the police a short while ago," he told her. "They found the vehicle that Leep was driving. It was sitting on the side of the road, doors standing open. Leep is gone. We’ve already been charged for the food he bought, but they didn't find any of it in the car."

"Probably stolen?" Lisa asked.

"No doubt."

"So they don't have any idea where Leep is?"

Faulkner shook his head. "The tracking devices have all been disabled."

"Does that mean they were detonated, sir?" Lisa asked.

"It's very possible. Leep is a big guy but if they got a good surprise shot in on him, they could have killed him for the food he was carrying and even detonated all five cuffs and taken the body with them."

Lisa paused to think. "Why are you telling me all this sir?" She shuddered, as her mood fell even more.

"Do you think Leep could have found a way to disable the explosives and escape?"

"Unlikely," she replied. "Leep had no reason to want to run away."

"Which means he's dead. I like that possibility even less."

Lisa was silent as she allowed the sorrowful mood to envelope her.

"I want you and Miss Jenkins to go into the police station and pick up the vehicle tomorrow morning immediately after breakfast."

"Yes, sir," she replied. "Why me?"

"I need one of you to drive the car back. You and Leep are the only slaves I trust enough to leave the compound. Me and my other assistants are too busy to be dealing with this kind of bullshit. They're going to take you to where the car was found. Maybe you or Jenkins can get some kind of clues that the police may have missed. They obviously have more important things as well." Faulkner paused. "I'm going to put a constant track on your cuffs. Just in case something happens to you too. I'll know the second anyone starts messing with them." He looked down for a moment, then to his computer screen. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more things that I must attend to."

"Yes, sir." She backed out of the room quickly.

Lisa hurried into the kitchen and checked all the doors, then the food storage. She breathed heavily, as though blowing the undirected anger through her nostrils. Unable to decide how to think, she headed back downstairs to her room and closed the door. Leep might be dead. She kicked off her slippers and looked around quickly, as though she might see something that could make her feel better. He probably is dead. Shit.

She noticed the bong sitting in its usual spot on the shelf. No, that isn't going to help me now. I need to fall asleep.

She did not fall asleep easily this night. She lay awake for more than an hour, thinking. Finding out that the whole world was dying for some reason did not upset her as much as the death of one slave she knew only moderately well. She thought at points that he would be found alive, and at others she knew he was already dead. Her thoughts drifted painfully back and forth, until she finally stood, turned the light back on and fetched her waterpipe. She proceeded to, for the second night in a row, completely drown her emotions in the smokey comfort she knew she could always count on.

The power of thought, she thought as she started into the second bowl. If I believe he's alive, he is. But he isn't... He probably isn't. But he might be. He's probably dead but might just possibly still be alive. Maybe he will be.

After finishing the bowl she slipped back into bed and flipped the light. Maybe, she thought, as she drifted closer to sleep. Just maybe. That's how I need to think... in maybes. Just maybe...

______ ______ ______

"Stay in the car." Jenkins slammed the door and Lisa watched her cross the street and enter the police station.

She didn't like it out here. Though she had not left the compound in over a year, she hadn't wanted to come. The bums, the skinny people. There were more than she remembered. Try telling them it's a hoax, she thought.

Lisa sat in the car for at least twenty minutes, watching the people pass. Most of them looked healthy, though thin. A few, however, seemed like barely more than skeletons. She had always realized on a logical level that she had been sheltered from the harsh realities of their world, and it surprised her that seeing these people pained her so much. I may not be so sheltered from this kind of thing from now on. Faulkner's re-election came immediately to mind. What's going to happen to me when he's out of there?

She focused her thoughts on that question for the final portion of her wait. Wandering through the emotions that came as she considered, she found her outlook growing steadily darker.

When Jenkin's returned, however, Lisa's attention refocused to Leep.

"They sent us directions,” Jenkins told her, jumping in. “Should already be in the navigation controls.” She directed the vehicle out of the space and into the road. "They couldn't even send someone to show us exactly where it was. I know we're not going to find anything when we get there. I really don't understand why Dale wanted me to come down here. This is pretty stupid if you ask me."

"Maybe we can figure out what happened to Leep." Lisa still stared out the window. "The police probably don't care."

"I don't care either," Jenkins replied. "We have more important things to worry about than a dead slave right now."

Lisa did not reply. The two did not speak until they arrived at the place where their vehicle told them Leep’s car had been found. Lisa's mood had darkened even more.

They sat in the car for several long, quiet moments. "So what do you think happened?" Jenkins asked.

Lisa shook her head. "Skid marks." She pointed.

"They made him stop and surrounded him. At least three or four of them to attempt this with someone like Leep. Unless they had a gun." She looked at Lisa for a second, a wicked grin crossing her face. "Let's look for blood stains on the road."

Lisa nodded, and they hopped out of the car. After examining the road for several minutes and finding nothing, Jenkens said, "This is absolutely foolish. We're not going to figure out anything standing here melting."

They returned to the vehicle and sat for another moment in the more comfortable air conditioned interior. "Insights?" Jenkins asked coldly.

Lisa paused, looked around the scene. "No, but give me a minute.”

The two sat silently for a time as Lisa stared out the windows and attempted to brainstorm, but finally shrugged to Jenkins. “Unfortunately I am no detective.”

"Lets go pick up the car and go home." Jenkins shook her head. "That cop was not very helpful. I explained to him that I was representing Dale Faulkner and he didn't even give a shit."

Their next stop was the parking garage of impounded vehicles. The city jail was located in the next building. The front attendant showed them to the vehicle. Jenkins nodded, looking closely at it. Still in good condition.

As he turned to leave, Lisa heard the attendant say, almost silently, "don't know how he fit in there."

Jenkins and Lisa got into the car and began pulling out of the garage. Lisa thought of massive Leep, and imagined him fitting into this vehicle and driving to the store. Did they arrest him, but couldn't identify him?

"We should check the jail," she said.

"What? Why?" asked Jenkins.

"Maybe Leep is in there."

"No way. Why would he be in there? They would have told me at the police station. I asked about him."

"Would it be worth it to check?" Lisa asked.

"No. I think that's a pretty stupid idea. I want to get back."

Lisa nodded. "Right. You know more about these things." But I think it’s worth a shot, Jenkins. Can you hear my thoughts? I think it’s worth a shot.

They pulled back onto the street and parked next to their first vehicle. "Which car am I driving?" Lisa asked.

Jenkins sighed and looked at the jailhouse for a moment. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to double check. Come with me this time. You can identify him better than me. Stay close."

"Yes, Maam." Lisa followed Jenkins across the street, into the building and up to the front desk.

“Excuse me, we’re looking for a slave named Leep,” Jenkins told the attendant. “Could you check your lists and see if he’s being held here.”

“Excuse me,” Jenkins repeated when the man did not immediately respond.

“Can I help you?” he said, as though he had expected her to simply go away.

“Could you look up a man named Leep, see if he’s here, please?”

“Last name?”

“He’s a slave.” Jenkins sighed, impatiently.

The man began clicking away at his computer interface. “We don’t have anyone by that name, here.” And he immediately closed the program and went back to his previous tasks.

“Can we see pictures of any slaves that you do have here?”

He grumbled, and reentered the program.

Why is he so angry with us? Lisa wondered. This is his job, is it not? They pay him money to help people like us.

He turned the screen to face Jenkins, and Lisa moved closer to obtain a better view. “All our slaves have already had claims made on them, but you can take a look anyway.”

Jenkins began scrolling through the pictures, but soon handed the controls over to Lisa, who would be more capable of recognizing Leep.

As she came to the twelfth picture, Lisa’s mood began to droop even farther. Just a waste of time, she thought.

Then, just as she finished her thought, a picture caught her attention. She looked closer, not quite sure of herself yet.

“That’s not him,” Jenkins said after Lisa lingered for a moment.

“Yes, it is,” Lisa told her, and Jenkins simply did not reply.

After a long moment, Jenkins told the officer, “Well, she claims that this is the person, so why don’t you bring him out here, so we can see for sure. I don’t mean to be rude but we are on a schedule here.”

Lisa sat down in a nearby seat, her dark mood all but washed away now. I do have power, she thought. Somehow I knew he would not leave us.

______ ______ ______

After parking the car in the garage behind the compound, Lisa rejoined Leep and Jenkins. They took the elevator to the top floor of the house where Mister Faulkner and his assistants had taken over to use as their headquarters for dealing with the problems stemming from the announcement of the terraforming failure. Lisa did not know what exactly went on up there, but was not too anxious to find out.

Jenkins ordered them to stay in the elevator as she exited. She returned a minute later. "Mister Faulkner is in his office downstairs," she told them. "He's with someone, but they’re taking a break from the commotion. Just poke your head in, Leep, so he knows we were successful." She turned and walked away.

Leep and Lisa rode the elevator back down to ground level. "So what happened?" Lisa asked.

"They jumped me from behind. I didn't know what had happened until I woke up in the road. I don't even know how long I was out." He paused. "Lisa, do you want to talk to Faulkner? You know him better, and if he's meeting with someone important, I don't want to interrupt them."

"I'm sure it won't matter," Lisa replied. "He'll be happy enough to see you."

"I can't imagine why he would care about me right now," said Leep.

The doors opened, and the two began walking toward Faulkner's office.

"I'm sure that he does, on some level. But if you want, I'll step in and tell him you're here, but he'll want to talk to you." They stopped outside the door to his office. "Wait here."

Lisa knocked, then opened the door and looked in. Faulkner sat at his desk, facing a man she did not recognize. "Sir," she started. "We were successful. I had a feeling he'd be in the jail, and that's exactly where he was."

"Leep?" Faulkner asked. "You found him?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where is he?"

Lisa motioned to Leep, who entered, somewhat reluctantly.

"What happened? Where is all the food you bought. Why weren't you able to contact me?" Faulkner started. "Come closer. Tell me what happened from the beginning." He looked toward his other guest. “Sorry for the interruption. I lost some money over this.”

"Well, sir..." Leep started, glancing cautiously at the other man seated in the room. "I picked up everything we needed. I was on my way home and someone was parked in the middle of the road. I had to stop. He was alone so I got out to help. Something hit me from behind and I passed out. There were three people at least. I caught a glimpse of three."

Faulkner nodded. "So why in the hell didn't you contact me immediately after you woke up?"

"I was-- I was very disoriented right after I got off the ground and a police officer arrived pretty quickly and arrested me for vagrancy. He ran all five of my cuffs through a scanner to get my ID, but told me he couldn't find it. I told him who owned me, but he wouldn't believe me. They put me in jail all by myself and just left me there. I haven't eaten since I've been gone."

Faulkner nodded some more and then said, "There's something corrupt about that. The police appear to be a bunch of incompetent goons. I asked them if there were any slaves picked up for vagrancy. Legally they needed to check out the person you claimed was your owner."

"They told me I had head trauma and was spouting off nonsense."

"Did they give you medical attention for your head trauma?"

"I didn't have any head trauma." Leep glanced at Lisa. "And no, they didn't."

"Hmm. I'm glad you're all right. I'll get all of this figured out at a later date. Possibly never." Faulkner looked at his other guest and grinned momentarily, then at his computer screen, seeming to shift his focus.

Probably never, Lisa thought, though couldn't say why. She looked at Leep, and began inching out of the room.

"Now," Faulkner said, "we have business to attend to so the two of you can leave now."

They turned from the room silently. Lisa closed the door.

"So you're all right?" Lisa asked one last time.

"Yes. Do you have something to do right now?"

"Yes." She sighed. "I need to make sure everything is working for dinner preparations. We're low on stock now." She turned toward the kitchen.

Though still ecstatic that she had found Leep alive, on a deeper level there seemed to be an anxiety overwhelming inch by inch. Now still very dull, but it seemed to be gaining ground. She noticed it more now when she was around Mister Faulkner.

She stopped in the kitchen doorway. But this feeling is only a couple days old. It should go away soon, when things get figured out.

It felt strange after her practically psychic premonition about Leep today, to find that her confidence in her thoughts had waned.

______ ______ ______

Chapter 5: Are We Doomed?

The next three weeks passed surprisingly quickly. Everyone seemed busy, and Lisa found herself working a couple extra hours almost every day. Faulkner decided to put Leep back on driving duty. Leep returned to the grocery supply outlet a couple days later but one of Faulkner's assistants accompanied him. Working more hours meant Lisa had less time to smoke, so her hash supply seemed to grow.

Lisa's mood remained positive, which surprised her a little. She had never taken her happiness for granted and it had been twelve years since she had felt a feeling that overwhelmed her with misery. It seemed as though she was long overdue. Somehow it felt wrong to be happy when the world was coming to an end, and she thought repeatedly that waves of pain and fear should soon swallow her. Constant happiness can get boring at times, she told herself in an attempt to prepare her brain for the coming emotions.

There was no talk of impeachment. Dale Faulkner was close enough to the end of his term that Lisa thought the idea was quite unlikely. On a conscious level she knew it didn't matter too much. Things would be getting worse. Faulkner would be out, one way or the other in ten months. He didn't stand a chance at reelection. She didn't want to think about what would happen to her. Would he need any slaves? Would he even be able to afford to keep her? Though she thought about these problems, the feelings of dread she expected did not present themselves to her forward consciousness.

Lisa had sex with several of Faulkner's assistants throughout this period. They asked her to visit them late at night, after they finally finished for the day. Once, Lisa had to set her alarm and sleep for half the night before getting up to do the deed. Her encounters were short, as everyone needed sleep.

Lisa normally did not talk about that particular part of her job, but one day decided to test Teesla’s reaction and tell her about one of her tasks.

"That is horrible!” Teesla told her. “That is very sad that they do that to you." They sat on Lisa's bed in her room. After being cut off for two weeks, Teesla had acquired her hash ration and was loading a bowl for Lisa.

"It's only sex," Lisa replied. "I could make them not want me, but that wouldn’t make me feel any better about myself. I don't really mind. It relieves their tensions. They need that right now."

Teesla handed her the fresh bowl. "You're letting yourself be repeatedly raped. How can you feel okay about that?"

"I don't think about it like that." Lisa took a toke. She shrugged. "I have a subtle power over them. I can make them like me. If they're happier, then we're all happier."

Teesla shook her head, taking the waterpipe back. "I guess that's just part of your job. I couldn't do it."

"Yes, you could. You strike me as someone who knows how to get laid. You know how to do it."

"No." she shook her head. "I couldn't do it with someone I didn't like. How do you do it? You don't really enjoy it do you?"

"I can make myself have fun," replied Lisa. "I enjoy it... usually."

"I'm glad I'm not you," Teesla told her, putting her mouth to the bong.

"That's okay. I'm glad I'm not you," Lisa replied.

______ ______ ______

Lisa did not hold a conversation with Dale Faulkner for three weeks. She was curious about his mood and outlook, but couldn’t find a time when she thought he’d be willing to talk. One evening, however, after she had closed the kitchen, he called her to his room.

She entered his chambers on the top floor of the twelve story house, finding a strange thought jump to mind: wouldn't it be strange if he wanted to have sex with me?

She rarely saw Dale's room. He was a very private man, and she felt privileged to be here, alone with him, which she couldn't remember ever happening before.

Closing the door behind her, Lisa asked, "How are you doing, sir?"

"Stressed," he replied.

"Understandable." She waited a moment. "Did you need something, sir?"

"Well..." He stood, then paused to think. He laughed, though clearly with the intent to cover something deeper. “I received a note today that has me weirded out.” He relaxed, as though he’d be telling a lengthy story. “Do you remember that thirteen year old who was accused of being a christianity pusher?”

Lisa nodded. “I remember something about him. Didn’t he get off?”

“Well, here’s the story: they arrested him on testimony from other students, threw the kid in jail for a day or two. They searched his house, his room, his school stuff, his computer, his person, and everything else they could think of, but did not find a single piece of paraphernalia. Without a bible, a cross, figurine or some sort of physical evidence, we can’t press charges. So they let him go.

“So I get this letter today from some woman who is furious. She has a couple kids in the same school, and doesn’t see why we can’t just pull this little boy out of school and lock him up permanently or put him into slavery, based on the testimonies that we already have. Here we are all starving to death, our entire planet is going to hell, and this woman is flipping out over some kid with a few stupid ideas in his head.

“I agree that the testimony is pretty overwhelming, and there’s no doubt in my mind that that kid was spouting some sort of god-crap. And I understand that nobody wants their children to be around that kind of nonsense. But—let’s see if you can follow my train of logic here—if we prosecute this boy, it will open up our legal system to begin prosecuting people based on accusations and heresy. I did have a few goals in mind when I began my presidency and one of those was ridding this planet of christianity once and for all, but I don’t believe that that goal is worth sending this planet back to a time of witch hunts and George Orwell visions.”

Lisa nodded. “That seems completely reasonable to me.”

“Does it?” he asked. “What do you think of the woman I told you about who wrote me the letter today?”

“Sounds like she’s looking for someone to blame.”

“Yes.” Dale nodded.

“I personally believe that no one should be prosecuted for Christianity, period,” Lisa told him.

Dales ear’s perked up.

“Christianity is a disease,” Lisa continued. “A sickness of the mind. Anyone who believes in god needs medical attention and help sorting out their reality. They don’t need criminal prosecution. Prosecution simply makes them even more angry and hateful than they already are.”