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were far removed from it as they started grouping the woman in the pale blue pants suit and killer hazel eyes with Leda and probably Chara. Different degrees of niceness, but they all had one thing in common. They all exercised control over me.
'Yes, more books along with a few more sessions with me,' Leda replied, but I hardly heard her as my mind was busy categorising the woman in my flat as my arresting officer, Leda as my jailer, and Chara as my charming good cop interrogator. My brain then came to the logical conclusion from this assertion, that I was definitely a prisoner. In a rare exchange, my brain sent a message down below that received total agreement from every single part of my digestive system. I was, if not very definitely, in extremely serious shit.
After another half an hour or more of images and video clips that had me thinking more and more about Winston Smith, Leda took me back to the cavern that had reminded me of the Sydney Aquarium. She made coffee for me and she told me of how we were so interconnected with the sea and the creatures that lived there. Chara swam by as she had done the day before and waved at me, but just before my brain started to form a conclusion that it had a remarkable similarity to the wave she had given me the morning before, my head started to spin and Leda's face began melting. I wanted to stand up and run, but a pain shot up from my right ankle that dissuaded me from doing so. I only had enough of my mind left to realise that my coffee had been laced with drugs.
'We need to talk about Helen, Lang,' I heard a voice say. As Leda's face was dripping onto the table in front of me at that moment, I wasn't totally sure that it was her who was speaking.
'I don't know,' I stammered.
'You must have met some of the people she worked with? Surely.'
'Not many.'
'Who?'
'I can't remember.'
'What is her job? Her employer?'
I tried to answer, even though I didn't have one at the ready, but couldn't.
'Names. Try Lang.'
My head was still spinning.
'She's a Krypteia agent. You must know that she's been working for them all along.'
I heard myself say, 'I don't know anything.'
'She works for the EYP and those who want to annihilate us. Names Lang, names.'
My brain seized, but my mouth kept moving, but I wasn't sure what sound came out.
'You must have known you were being used to infiltrate us,' were the last words I understood before my head throbbed painfully and then my legs felt as if they had been amputated and tied firmly around my throat.
Surprises were starting to become far too habitual to be classified as such, so as my eyes blinked open and I tried to focus on the ceiling above me, I decided to immediately banish the word from my current vocabulary. My stomach felt like it was trying to digest three dozen off oysters and deciding on which way they should be sent for further processing. Up or down. It decided on up and sent me scrambling to the bathroom and depositing my stomach's contents into the toilet bowl. A painful episode of dry retching completed the task my stomach had set, yet again. When I could breathe, I turned on the shower and took off my clothes and let the hot water wash away the stench of vomit, and the fear that was now manifesting in every cell of my body. As I ran my hands over my face, I noticed my watch was missing from my wrist.
It wasn't much considering the circumstances, but it meant I had lost my only means of controlling my days, and possibly staying sane. I looked down at my ankle. The bracelet was a pale yellow colour. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad, yet I had a notion that its normal transparent shade was probably much better for me. After a very long shower I dried myself off, brushed my teeth and walked back naked to my bed. As I had so recently banished the word surprised from my active vocabulary, finding Chara lying naked in my bed waiting for me could now only be classed as fully anticipated.
'Did you bring wine?' I asked, as
'Yes, more books along with a few more sessions with me,' Leda replied, but I hardly heard her as my mind was busy categorising the woman in my flat as my arresting officer, Leda as my jailer, and Chara as my charming good cop interrogator. My brain then came to the logical conclusion from this assertion, that I was definitely a prisoner. In a rare exchange, my brain sent a message down below that received total agreement from every single part of my digestive system. I was, if not very definitely, in extremely serious shit.
After another half an hour or more of images and video clips that had me thinking more and more about Winston Smith, Leda took me back to the cavern that had reminded me of the Sydney Aquarium. She made coffee for me and she told me of how we were so interconnected with the sea and the creatures that lived there. Chara swam by as she had done the day before and waved at me, but just before my brain started to form a conclusion that it had a remarkable similarity to the wave she had given me the morning before, my head started to spin and Leda's face began melting. I wanted to stand up and run, but a pain shot up from my right ankle that dissuaded me from doing so. I only had enough of my mind left to realise that my coffee had been laced with drugs.
'We need to talk about Helen, Lang,' I heard a voice say. As Leda's face was dripping onto the table in front of me at that moment, I wasn't totally sure that it was her who was speaking.
'I don't know,' I stammered.
'You must have met some of the people she worked with? Surely.'
'Not many.'
'Who?'
'I can't remember.'
'What is her job? Her employer?'
I tried to answer, even though I didn't have one at the ready, but couldn't.
'Names. Try Lang.'
My head was still spinning.
'She's a Krypteia agent. You must know that she's been working for them all along.'
I heard myself say, 'I don't know anything.'
'She works for the EYP and those who want to annihilate us. Names Lang, names.'
My brain seized, but my mouth kept moving, but I wasn't sure what sound came out.
'You must have known you were being used to infiltrate us,' were the last words I understood before my head throbbed painfully and then my legs felt as if they had been amputated and tied firmly around my throat.
Surprises were starting to become far too habitual to be classified as such, so as my eyes blinked open and I tried to focus on the ceiling above me, I decided to immediately banish the word from my current vocabulary. My stomach felt like it was trying to digest three dozen off oysters and deciding on which way they should be sent for further processing. Up or down. It decided on up and sent me scrambling to the bathroom and depositing my stomach's contents into the toilet bowl. A painful episode of dry retching completed the task my stomach had set, yet again. When I could breathe, I turned on the shower and took off my clothes and let the hot water wash away the stench of vomit, and the fear that was now manifesting in every cell of my body. As I ran my hands over my face, I noticed my watch was missing from my wrist.
It wasn't much considering the circumstances, but it meant I had lost my only means of controlling my days, and possibly staying sane. I looked down at my ankle. The bracelet was a pale yellow colour. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad, yet I had a notion that its normal transparent shade was probably much better for me. After a very long shower I dried myself off, brushed my teeth and walked back naked to my bed. As I had so recently banished the word surprised from my active vocabulary, finding Chara lying naked in my bed waiting for me could now only be classed as fully anticipated.
'Did you bring wine?' I asked, as
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