Elgin’s Trial
By Mr. J.
Chapter XVIII: Face to Face
“Please.” 023980 begs. “I don’t know where else to turn.”
Tracy sizes up the woman in front of her. Suppose Jill-cum- 023980 is right. They barely know each other. Why should she be helped? The former whistleblower could be mentally unstable. She could be pretending to need help in order to gather intel. She could be a drug addict.
That still doesn’t explain how she knew where Tracy lived. That is not a detail that the Divinex employee hands out freely. Could she have been followed? Definitely. Could her life be in danger?
Absolutely.
“Why should I help you?” Tracy crosses her arms. “You just broke into my home. That’s a felony in many states.”
“I’m sorry.” 023980 lowers her head. “I didn’t know another way.”
The remorse strikes Tracy as rather odd for a would-be thief. So far she hasn’t been threatened with bodily harm—but that could change on a dime. She furrows her brow as she stares at the guilt ridden face of her quarry. The woman seems genuine. But appearances can be deceiving.
“Did you steal anything?”
“No.” 023980 shakes her head violently.
“Why do you have that picture frame in your hand?”
“Sorry.” 023980 places it back on the mantle. “Who was he? A friend? Lover?”
“I beg your pardon?” Tracy raises an eyebrow.
“The young man standing next to you in front of the Eiffel Tower.”
“None of your concern.” Tracy coolly changes the subject. “Okay, let’s say I do what you want. How do you know I’m the right person for this job? For that matter what if nothing happens? I know what you look like. What’s to stop you from killing me?”
“Nothing.” 023980’s gaze is placid. “You have to trust me.”
“I don’t like those odds.”
“It is what it is.”
“And if I can’t deliver?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” The grim smile on 023980’s face causes Tracy to shiver.
“I’m not sure I can do this. I don’t know where to begin...” Her voice trails off.
“Sure you can.”
“What do you want me to do? Click my heels three times and make all the world’s problems go away?”
“Of course not,” 023980 gazes at a small antique vase. “I’m just asking you to help recover some buried memories inside my subconscious.”
Tracy’s mouth is ajar.
“You’re insane.”
“They still teach hypnosis in school, right?”
“That’s poppycock! It’s just a parlor game some grad students play to amuse themselves!”
“How do you explain this?” Jill raises her sweatshirt.
Tracy gazes at the barcode symbol on her stomach. She knew a variation of one had to exist, but seeing one in the flesh is a different story.
“I don’t remember how I got this.” 023980 gestures. “All I know is one day I woke up and it was here. I want to find out why.”
“What you’re asking is beyond my abilities.”
“I’m not asking you to understand. I ‘m asking you to try.”
Tracy nervously removes her watch from her wrist and instructs Jill to relax her body and watch as the digital timepiece swings to and fro in rhythmic fashion. Her hand trembles. Even as she attempts to bring 023980 under, she can’t help but think that this is nothing but a fraud. Trails of sweat trickle down her brow.
“I want you to listen only to the sound of my voice...” Her voice is flat. “You’re doing good—real good. Now close your eyes. At the snap of my fingers you’ll fall into a trance...”
To Tracy’s surprise, the parlor trick appears to work exactly as expected. As she watches 023980’s eyes flicker, she considers for a moment that the woman might actually be on to something. This would be an interesting anecdote for her dissertation, if she doesn’t get both their asses killed. Her mouth tightens.
Slowly but surely images come to the fore of 023980’s mind. Scenes of herself sitting at a metal table...escorted down a long corridor. She feels as though she’s watching an image of herself, but not herself. She even has hair.
The perspective violently shifts to an image of her sitting in a bizarrely shaped object. She struggles to ascertain what exactly is going on, but what she is sure of is that’s extremely pleasurable. She watches as a strange piston penetrates her body while a voice chimes in the background speaking softly of her need to obey...
An orgasmic moan escapes her lips as 023980 comes to. Hands explore chest, stomach and thighs...the scene shocks even Tracy. She watches aghast, conflicted yet unable to turn away.
“Ahem.” She clears her throat. “You can open your eyes now.”
023980’s emotions are in flux as her eyes flutter open. Joy, anger, relief, pleasure... Her eyes dart confusedly around the room, alighting on the strange woman in the jacket hovering over her.
“Who are you? How did I get here?”
“It’s alright.” Tracy reassures her. “You’re safe.”
“Get away from me!” 023980 lunges toward the telephone. “I’m calling the police!”
“023980! Wait!”
The houseguest spins on her heels.
“My name isn’t 023980.”
“What is it then?”
“It’s Jill.”