Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Spanner 13.5: Sex as a Weapon

...from previous

Chaos Angel Spanner — Chapter 13: The Girl with No Name
Part 5: Sex as a Weapon (Final Revision)

cafeteria. “I hope this ‘business’ won’t take you away from me,” the girl with the violet eyes says suspiciously.

Shira pulls her close. “He thinks it will, love. We know better.”

“Well, I’ve got a little business of my own.”

“Don’t hurt him too bad.” She winks.

“Trust me.” They kiss, then slowly pull away, still holding hands, till their hands slide apart.

“Make sure to tell Brandi.” The violet-eyed girl winks back, then runs to the front door. Shira watches her as she leaves. A malicious smirk forms on her face; she turns back toward Mr. Smith’s office and slowly lets it fade.

mudlark house. Hope, Willa, and Desiree admire the short slim body of the nameless Asian beauty, looking elegant in a sweater dress. Willa says, “You’ve got great taste in neighbours.”

Desiree pulls her into a soft embrace. “I’m overjoyed to say your Ayla and my Melody are great friends at school.”

The nameless girl smiles. “You’ll have to introduce me to her sometime.”

“We will.” Desiree kisses her on the cheek.

Hope says, “Shira tells me you actually used to be a cop.”

“FBI, actually.”

“You know Shockley,” says Willa.

“She got me kicked out of the Bureau right before Alabaster went rogue. If I’d had that case, it wouldn’t have been the disaster it ended up being. As it turns out, Hope, the last lead I got had a lot to do with you, and Shira.”

Hope’s eyes go wide. “You mean. . . Kira?”

“Have you heard of one Mina Tatsumi?”

“Resident mad scientist at Biotron?”

“I was about to follow the clue, but everything went to hell on 12/21, so I went underground, where I am now. But Tatsumi definitely had something to do with Kira’s disappearance.”

“Can you find Kira?”

“I don’t know. What I do know is someone who can get to Tatsumi.” She smiles at Desiree, who winks back.

thorwald property. Seeing Oliver in such a hysterical state amuses her. “That’s impossible!” he shrieks. “You can’t just get rid of your name, Leila! It just ain’t possible!”

“Not only is it possible, Oliver,” the girl with the violet eyes says cheerfully, “but I did it. I renounced my name, sent my Ego packing, and embraced the freedom of anonymity. Accept it, Oliver. I’m a woman with no name.”

That’s the ‘more drastic measures’ you was talking ‘bout? You’re insane!”

“It should be crazy enough to work.”

He paces back and forth before his throne. “And you don’t think the Big Dog’s gonna marry me to a ghost, huh?

“If he tries, he’s insane.”

Oliver takes out his phone. It takes several seconds to get through. “Christie, let’s talk. . . Okay. See ya there.” The call ends. He points the phone at one of the former warehouse’s car service doors to open it and walks out fast. “C’mon, follow me.” The violet-eyed girl reluctantly follows.

classroom office. He says he’s grading papers. Only the school establishment believe him. Anybody with a clue knows he’s drooling over Rebel Rebel videos on the laptop resting in his lap as he waits for her alter ego to arrive. Gar Smith’s business is with her.

She strikes a ravishing pose in the doorway, bracing herself against the frame, her body framed like a painting, illuminated by half-lit office and pure charisma. He takes a sharp deep breath and tries not to faint. “Mr. Smith,” she purrs, “may I come in?”

He giggles uncontrollably like a girl with a crush. “Please shut the door.” With a flick of the wrist the door closes. Its autolock shuts away the world.

She aggressively removes her top; nothing underneath but smooth bare flesh. He sits and stares, transfixed by the caramel-skinned beauty, too sexy too young. She tosses it aside, slips out of her skirt, sashays toward him nude like a film noir femme fatale, lets him stare for an endless moment. She sits in his lap. He thinks he has her. She knows he’s her slave.

He sets the computer on his desk, webcam pointing at them. She sees a familiar dark child silently pronounce her seductive call. “So this is what we’re meeting about?”

He clears his throat and tries not to stutter. “If the rumors are true and this here was you, are you really capable of these kinds of things?”

She leans over and turns his head with her hand so she can look him in the eyes. “Want a demonstration?”

He blushes and sweats as a lascivious leer forms on his face. “Sure. Try me.”

She spins on his lap, plants a hard kiss on his lips, plunges her tongue into his mouth; His eyes go wide, he flinches and whimpers like a virgin. He does not know her phone is set to autosync. She has seized control of his camera.

downtown bremerton. The prisoner’s screams punctuate their conversation. Christie says, “I still find it hard to think you’re satisfied being just ‘hey you.’“

“You know what to call me,” the girl with the violet eyes replies. “I explained the rules.”

Christie stares up at Oliver. “I doubt he’ll ever get it.”

“Bite me,” says Oliver.

Bremerton is as urbane and civilized as any other urban node in Metropolitan Seattle. But the barbaric hand of Imperial frontier justice must make its dominion known. Under the stern and cruel eye of Shepherd-Mayor Luke Everson, the sex criminal is whipped to within an inch of his life. The Patriots surrounding Everson howl with pleasure among chants of “U.S.A! U.S.A!” every time the whip hits flesh and the victim screams and convulses in pain. The civilian crowd signal their moral inferiority in the eyes of their Imperial masters by flinching, a sign of the mortal sin of altruism. Everson’s prodigal grandson, Oliver Thorwald, stands at the top of the stairs and watches the blood sport below, flanked by his newfound love Christian Fleer and his now nameless unwanted fiancée. “I don’t get it. I mean, he was just fucking some chick.”

“He was committing fornication,” says Christie sternly. “He violated the moral purity of Our Nation.”
The violet-eyed girl says, “Actually, Corporate men like our beloved Oliver are allowed to sow their wild oats to prove their Manhood. This is a muggle. Muggles are inherently dysgenic, remember? Muggle control is the entire point of the Revolution.”

“Darling nameless one, are the rumors true that you too are, as Oliver likes to say, doing some chick?”

“If it is, then it is entirely my sovereign will and pleasure. And if you don’t like it, Christie. . .” She leans around Oliver’s business-suited body to glare hard at her with a smile. “. . .then Challenge me in Tournament.”

While the two rivals stare each other down, the men in black hoods castrate the sex criminal with a blowtorch and brand him with the Satanic Cross on the forehead and the word “RAPE” across his face. The violet-eyed girl turns her grim gaze toward the tortured man now losing consciousness. “Oliver, you do the same thing with more blood and less pain, with even less justification or none at all. You are truly the Shepherd-Mayor’s grandson.”

“You developing an altruist streak, Leila? That ain’t like you.”

“Haven’t you noticed the punishment is always the same, whether for rape or masturbation?”

“I don’t fucking get why the fuck they’re the same!”

“The crime is metaphysical, Oliver.” The violet-eyed girl drills her hard stare into his eyes.

“Sexcrime is always, only, and forever the violation of the Nation. Right, Christie?”

Christie stares back at her, then says to Oliver, “Yes.”

The unconscious victim is bound, gagged, and taken away to be delivered into slavery unto death. The Patriots cry out their exultation in the Unknown Tongue. Everson stares hard with hurt and hate at the girl with no name, reminding her of the danger he poses to the family who are not here. In his eyes, she believes, she can see a Challenge.

slasher hunters van. “Look at him flail like a fish,” Lars gloats, watching Shira wrench the clothes off Smith’s sweaty fat body.

Brandi responds with a slight smile. “Little boys shouldn’t play with fire.”

Arisa grins. “Blackmail, you mean.”

“I don’t understand the purpose of this,” says Peck.

“You’d be surprised how close Confederate cosplayers are to the régime,” Lars replies. “Gar Smith has a notorious eye for the ladies—the younger ones, the more vulnerable, the better. So. . .”

Brandi says, “Get Smith. . .”

Arisa says, “. . .own Spiekerman.”

“And one level up to Chief Mobley and Shepherd Scofield,” adds Peck.

“And one level more gets us right to the Wicked Witch,” Lars concludes.

“Brandi, Arisa, assist her if you must, but this business isn’t ours.”

“Why not?” asks Arisa.

“Our proper business is elsewhere.”

“Bernkastel,” says Brandi.

“No. Coach Mobley. And Falconer.”

Lars grins. “Which leads us all the way to Fleer.”


On the netbook screen, Shira howls and screams in wicked ecstasy as she sexually attacks Gar Smith, lying naked on his back, helpless atop his desk like a dying pig.

bremerton boardwalk. The girl with the violet eyes holds Oliver’s Beretta to her head and smiles. “Leila, what the hell are you doing?” he shrieks in panic. Christie stares at them, paralyzed with horror.

“Are you afraid to die, Oliver?” She points the gun at him.

“I’m not gonna pull that fucking trigger.”

“If you can kill yourself, I promise to die with you, and we’ll be free from our fate forever. Let us extinguish ourselves and take the Brinkmans and Eversons with us. Let them wail about their impending extinction; we won’t mind once we’re together in the peace of death. Oliver, do you have the courage?”

Oliver trembles and sweats. His hand shakes. He cannot touch his own gun. Finally, he loses his nerve, grabs the gun, and throws it down. He paces around and pants. “I can’t do that, you’re fucking insane..”

The violet-eyed girl sighs. “I knew you didn’t have the nerve.”

Christie angrily runs over to grab her by the collar. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

“No, I just want to be free. . .”

She starts to tremble; the violet-eyed girl feels her fear. “How can you actually say you’re not scared of death!” she protests. “It’s the worst thing in the world!”

“You’ve never heard of the fate worse than death?”

“There’s no such thing!”

“Being kept alive to be tortured forever? Being frozen solid and yet still conscious? Madness? Depression? Crippling painful illness? There is such a thing, Christie. Oliver and I are trapped in one. We’ll do whatever it takes to break free, even if we have to slay God.”

Christie shrinks back in horror. “Oh my God, you really are insane. . .”

“The world’s mad. My curse is to be sane in it.”

Oliver sticks the pistol back in its holster. “Well, now what?”

“I guess. . .” The girl with the violet eyes turns to him and smiles. “Plan Z.”

biotron labs. “Hello,” the bored young man says, “this is Biotron Special Products. May I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Jim Fonk from the WyCo Distribution Company.” Sparks is calling from the last pay phone in West Bremerton. Desiree and the nameless slender beauty struggle to keep from laughing. He wants to say their suppressed smiles are adorable, but he raises an index finger to his lips.

“I heard o’ you. What’s your order today, Mr. Fonk?”

“Say, you got any surplus of the dark-skinned redhead special model?”

“Sorry, man, but that one’s got a VIP waiting list for the next two years. Waste of perfectly good Bioroids, if you ask me. Quality’s going downhill anyway; there’s only so many times you can clone an exhausted line. But if you can bring us the original, you’ll be a lifesaver.”

“Thanks. I’ll see what I can do. Anything else?”

“You’re in luck! We just got in a gorgeous little blonde, seven or eight, we can clone to your specifications for the pedophile who has it all. But only if you like girls.” He audibly licks his lips.

“Sounds sweet.”

Just then, Dr. Tatsumi bursts through the door. “You idiot! You weren’t supposed to tell ’em about her!” She snatches the landline receiver out of his hand and beats him with it; she shrieks, he protests.

Sparks hangs up. “The good doctor’s in a funk today.” He turns toward the women. “So far, no Kira. Yet. However, Kira just might be the source of the Shira clones Big Dick’s feeding to the Party brass.”

Desiree’s breath catches. “Oh my god—”

“I found something else.” The women stare at him attentively. He raises one eyebrow and smiles. “I think we just found your Lucie.”

Desiree faints into his arms.

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Copyright © 2012 Dennis Jernberg. Some rights reserved.
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[Revision 4 Final, 12/19/12: The “seduction of Mr. Smith” sequence comes from the original 12.5 Revision 2. Everything else is new to the Final Revision.]

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