And I thought rape was perverted! Orlene thought with revulsion.
Vita laughed. Man can't rape a girl, when she needs the money. Better to get it done fast, before he works up to weird ideas—but not so fast he feels cheated.
But that makes it seem as if men are mere sex machines! Orlene protested.
So what else is new?
Jolie realized that this was working out well, in its strange way. Both Orlene and Vita were benefiting from their limited dialogue, being drawn out of their private miseries. But there was a long way to go before either would be ready to resume normal functioning.
They left the restaurant. The client spoke to the doorman, who whistled down a taxi carpet.
Jolie knew that once she got on that carpet there would be no escaping, for it would deliver them directly to the client's suite, which would be forty or more stories high in a megabuilding. She really did need to use the toilet, but not with him watching or perhaps participating! So, bloated or not, she had to make her break now.
The taxi carpet sailed down and hovered at knee height. It was shaped: the rear of it curled up to form a backrest, while the front descended in an S curve to accommodate the legs. Magic would hold them firmly in place while it was in motion, as required by safety regulations. There was no danger of falling off—and no chance to jump off, no matter how low it might fly. The client sat on it, then heaved his legs around and up to the front. His weight was such that even the sturdy levitation spell gave way slightly and the carpet dropped closer to the curb.
The doorman put out a hand to help Jolie board. Instead she ducked under his arm and ran down the sidewalk. She didn't care where she was going, as long as it was away.
"Hey!" the client cried. "Stop my niece!"
The doorman, ever obliging, lurched after her. Jolie dodged around an approaching couple and ran into the street. Tires squealed as a limousine braked to avoid her.
No—that was the pimp's limo! He had anticipated this effort and was intercepting her. She was in trouble now!
I could've told you that, ninny! Vita thought. You've got to go along to get along. They know all the angles.
Now she was effectively boxed, the limo on one side, the doorman on the other, and the carpet behind. If you're so smart, how would you escape? Jolie demanded, not expecting an answer.
But the girl surprised her. Apparently the urge to show her superiority in this respect overrode her desire not to aggravate the pimp, whose wrath would surely be fearsome. I would fool them by scrambling under the carpet, then run into the restaurant and out the back.
Jolie couldn't improve on that! She feinted to the front, and both limo and doorman lurched that way to cut her off, while the carpet advanced to close up the gap, hovering at waist height. She reversed course and plunged toward the carpet. She dived down below it, scrambling on hands and knees in the gutter. That was good for neither her pretty dress nor her knees, but excellent for surprise.
She regained her feet beyond it and bolted for the restaurant door, which was now unmanned. She shoved in and charged along the carpeted entry hall. The maitre d' called to her, but she ran right on, seeking the back.
She found the passage the waiters used, and leaped through it. Then she found the door that accessed the kitchen and shoved through that. Now she was amidst the tables and ovens where the food was being prepared.
"Get out of here, gamin!" a cook cried. "This is a restricted area!"
She saw a door labeled EXIT and ran for that. She pushed through and found herself out in the back alley, surrounded by old-fashioned garbage cans and a Dumpster. Where next? she thought, knowing that the pursuit would soon appear.
Hide, Vita advised. The Dumpster, maybe.
But those get picked up regularly and taken to compactors and furnaces! Orlene protested.
That's why nobody'll think to look there, dummy!
Jolie accepted the logic. She hadn't much choice. She was panting, and felt ready to burst, and was afraid she could not run much farther and would soon be caught if she tried. At least she could rest in the Dumpster.
She climbed up its irregular exterior, heaved herself over the top and dropped inside. She landed on a pile of fresh garbage; the thing was half full. It seemed to be mostly large lettuce leaves and fruit rinds, but there was a good deal of semi-liquid meal leavings collected in the bottom.
But they might look. Vita warned. Better cover up.
Jolie gritted her teeth, knowing that this was more good advice. She squatted in a low spot and hauled in a pile of watermelon rinds to cover her. She hated to do it to her dress, but she was committed now.
She heard voices outside, muffled by the walls of the Dumpster and the garbage around her. That would be her pursuers, searching out her route. In a moment someone poked his head over the rim of the Dumpster. "Just garbage in here! What a smell!" he called, and moved away.
The sounds died. Don't get out yet! Vita warned. They'll hang around awhile, waiting to see if we come out when we think they're gone.
You're very canny, Jolie remarked.
I learned a lot in a hurry, after I ran away from home.
You ran away? Why? Here was key information!
None of your business. Vita retreated.
So much for that. Jolie was animating the body, but it would take her a lot more time than she could afford to access the memories on her own. She depended on the host's cooperation, and this had been invaluable as far as it went, but it was limited.
But now, waiting, she became aware again of her need to relieve herself, after the big meal. She didn't see how she could remain quietly here for any length of time without taking care of this detail.
Do it here, Orlene suggested. We can't get any dirtier.
Apt notion! Jolie shifted that minimum necessary to get her panties down, and proceeded to add to the garbage. Certainly the smell would not betray her here!
When about half an hour had passed without further commotion outside, she burrowed cautiously out of her noxious cell and hoisted herself up to peek over the rim. The alley seemed to be clear.
She climbed out and tried to clean herself off, but it was hopeless; the fluids of the garbage had soaked through almost every part of her dress, and solids adhered here and there. She would be an obvious figure wherever she went!
Maybe I should take off my dress, she thought.
And become a spectacle for every juvenile hood in the area. Vita retorted with a certain grim relish.
Yet again, the voice of street experience! But where can we go? Jolie asked.
Why didn't you think of that before you skipped out on that date? I could've handled the fat man.
"Listen!" Jolie said aloud. "That man wanted illicit sex with a child!"
What else! That's howl pay my way. Maybe it's not the best life, but it's better than what I had before.
"What did you have before?"
This time Vita answered. Only a little incest.
"Only a little—!"
Before I bugged out.
"But surely your mother—"
Didn't want to know.
And I thought rape was bad! Orlene echoed.
It was rape all right! Vita thought. I fought him, but I couldn't stop him without making a commotion Mom would hear, so in the end I had to grin and bear it. I had asked for it, after all.
"I don't believe that!"
You don't? Genuine surprise. Want me to show you how it was?
They were standing outside the Dumpster, soaked in garbage. This was hardly the time for a prolonged internal dialogue! But Jolie realized that the girl was being much more forthcoming now, and might not soon again be so. "Yes, show me." She sat down by the Dumpster; this was as good a place as any, now that the chase was over.
Vita opened up the memory. Vita was propped on her bed in a pleasant room, watching a holo show. She was wearing a loose light shift that fell somewhat provocatively across her torso. A man entered: her stepfather. No—my
natural father. Vita corrected Jolie's assumption.
Your genetic father! Orlene thought, shocked again.
He just had a fight with Mom and was mad. Wish I'd known! He saw up my nightie—I never thought—I mean, we used to sort of wrestle, and sometimes his hands—I thought it was just, you know, accidental feels, but he was getting hot for me and I shouldn't've led him on. So when it went too far—
Suddenly the man was on her, pinning her to the bed, one hand yanking open the top of her shift so that it tore. His other hand opened his own clothing.
Amazed, she struggled. I thought it was some kind of game. I mean, we'd tussled before, and he always let me win, 'specially when he got his hand on my ass. But this time he really held me down and—
There was no art, no mercy. The man spread his body on hers, driving in between her kicking legs. It was over in a moment, and he got off and lurched out, closing up his clothing. There had been no speech at all.
I didn't know what he'd done, at first. Vita thought. It was so sudden, mostly I felt my breath being squeezed out, I thought it was just his weight, pinning me, and something accidental jamming into me, like an elbow, only it wasn't. Maybe I didn't want to know! I could've screamed, and I guess I did know, because I knew if I screamed, he'd be dumped in jail and Mom would never forgive me. So I asked for it, really, by letting him feel me before, and see up my—by not trying to scream— Now the soul was crying.
"That was rape," Jolie said firmly. "Child sexual abuse and rape."
But I must've lured him on, spreading my legs like that! I didn't know that it's like a red flag to a bull, a man goes crazy, he can't help it—
It was rape! Orlene repeated. His guilt, not yours! Then, as an afterthought: Bulls are color-blind.
"I agree!" Jolie said. "A man can be overcome by lust—but not when he has had time to learn control, not when he's your father! Why did he come to your room at all? He had it in mind before he ever saw you."
Anyway, after that I packed up my stuff and got out of there. I knew I'd done wrong. I almost starved, before the pimp picked me up, and since I was already worthless, what did it matter, you know? So he took care of me, and I did what he said, and I guess I didn't want to live much. But the H made me feel better, and pretty soon the rest didn't matter.
"We'll have to get you help," Jolie said. "You can't just go home. But you can't stay on the street, either."
That's why I stayed where I was. Nowhere to go.
Jolie pondered alternatives. She could walk the girl to Luna's estate, which wasn't a great distance away. But Luna had sent her here, which meant that Luna knew Vita's situation. She could have fetched the girl herself, if that was the solution. Probably Luna had concluded that Vita needed to be treated from the inside, so that she could come to terms with her situation and return home voluntarily.
Home—to a father who had raped her? Definitely not that! So it was still Jolie's problem, hardly closer to solution than before. Homeless, garbage-laden, without money or other resources—what was she to do with this host now?
Well, there were homes for runaways. One of them should do as a temporary measure. All she had to do was locate one, or find someone who knew the address of the closest one.
She started walking. But now the back alley was becoming inhabited, as the evening approached. "Hey get a smell of that!" a juvenile boy exclaimed.
In a moment there was a circle of boys: too young to work, old enough to have bad ideas. They soon tired of exclaiming and making gestures of nose-holding, and worked up to more serious notions. "Open a hydrant! Hose her off! Strip her naked! Then—"
"Look, I'm trying to find a runaway house," Jolie said, and realized her mistake even as she spoke.
"So nobody knows where she is!" a boy cried happily. "Haul her to the water, then into our hideout. We'll have a hot time tonight!"
We're in for it now! Vita remarked. You and your big reform ideas. This is the real world! Then, as an afterthought: But maybe they've got a little H! For that I'll take them all on!
You'll do nothing of the kind! Jolie thought. But she was very much afraid that the alternative would be gang rape, which did not seem like much of an improvement. This was indeed the real world!
But as they closed on her, a police carpet floated down. Immediately one boy leaped for her, a knife showing in his fist. "Say it's nothing!" he whispered, holding the knife in such a way that the police could not see it, but ready for stabbing.
Jolie thought fast. "I'll do better than that!" she said. She scraped some garbage from her dress and threw it upward toward the carpet. "Take that, flatfoot!" It had been decades since police had sported flat feet, if ever, but the name clung.
What are you doing? Orlene asked, appalled.
I'm getting us arrested!
The garbage, inadequately thrown, missed, but the surrounding boys laughed. Jolie realized that she needed something more solid. Quickly she reached under her dress and hauled down her sodden panties, while the boys gawked appreciatively. She wadded these into a ball and hurled it at the carpet. "And that, jerks!"
But they'll lock us up! Vita protested. Streetwise, she knew better than to taunt police!
Yes—away from your father—and your pimp!
This time her aim was good. The ball smacked into the uniform of the leading cop. The boys almost fell down laughing.
"That does it!" the cop said. "You're coming with us, gamin!" The carpet dropped all the way to the pavement, while the boys scattered.
But won't they send us back home?
Not if we tell our story first.
"Phew!" the cop exclaimed, jumping off. "What you been in—a garbage dump?"
"Right," Jolie said. This was exactly what she wanted: to be arrested. When the police heard Vita's story, they would put her in a runaway house or the equivalent. She had taken a roundabout route, but she had gotten Vita out of a bad situation and into a better one, with the girl's consent.
Chapter 4 - JUDGE
In the morning, clean and in clothing provided by the detention center, they were shown into a pleasant office. Vita, suffering H withdrawal, refused to participate, and Orlene, appalled at what she had learned, had retreated to passivity again. Thus it was up to Jolie to handle this interview.
A man of middle age sat in an easy chair. He stood as they entered. "Please make yourself comfortable," he said, indicating another chair. "This is a preliminary interview, informal, and if you wish, off the record. I merely wish to learn something about you."
Jolie found herself disarmed by his manner; he hardly resembled a callous bureaucrat! She sat, and the man sat again. He had a receding hairline which he did not bother to mask, and an expanding waistline, yet he seemed healthy overall. His eyes were gray-brown, as if the pigment had smeared. There were smile lines framing both eyes and mouth, but also frown lines.
"Now, when we ran the routine identification check on you, we discovered that you are a local resident—but there is no lost-person report on you. Indeed, there is a qualifier: your identification remains invalid unless you corroborate it. We are legally bound not to report you, without your permission. This is unusual, to say the least."
It was also interesting! Certainly Luna knew where Vita was, for she had sent the two of them to her. But what connection did Vita have to Luna, and why was it so important to get the girl straightened out?
I sure don't know! Vita thought irritably. And care less. Ask him if he's got any H.
So the mystery remained—unless this was merely a convenient case, to keep Jolie occupied and Orlene from sinking to Hell. Well, it certainly was doing that!
"I had a bad experience at home," Jolie said, speaking for Vita. Internally, she asked: May I tell him?
Go ahead, I don't care. But I won't go home.
"This is often the case," the man agreed. "In past times runaway children were routinely returned to their homes. Then it was discovered what they were running from, and policy changed. Abuse?"
"Perhaps," Jolie said cautiously.
"Would you like information on what constitutes abuse, legally? We want to understand your situation, and to have you understand it yourself."
Jolie glanced at the matron who had brought her here, and who remained standing at the door. That might be for her protection, or the man's. "Are you trying to get me to incriminate myself? I'm willing to do that; I did throw garbage at the police carpet, so they would arrest me."
"So that you could win clear of the youth gang that was closing in on you," he agreed. "I understand—and so did the arresting officers. But there are other aspects of this case that cause us to be reluctant simply to turn you loose again."
"I don't want to be turned loose!" Jolie said, alarmed. She knew that this host would be far better off in custody than on the street.
"We have little choice, as you have committed no significant crime and you can not be classed as a runaway. But we are willing to help in whatever way seems appropriate."
"This doesn't sound like a police interrogation!" Jolie exclaimed. "Who are you? What do you really want of me?"
The man smiled. "I apologize for neglecting to introduce myself. I am Judge Scott, and this is a preliminary hearing before our formal meeting in court. I prefer to know something about those who come before me, so that my ignorance does not lead to bad decisions."
Jolie was amazed. "I thought you were just a functionary! Someone to take evidence to use against me."
He smiled again. "That, too, perhaps. But the roots of my involvement are curiosity and a desire to do what is right, which is not always merely what is legal."
Jolie realized that her encounter with this man could be a stroke of luck—or perhaps had somehow been anticipated by Luna. She decided to put her cards—not merely Vita's on the table. "May I speak privately with you, Judge Scott?"
"The matron is here to ensure that I take no unseemly advantage of you," he reminded her. "This is standard policy with juvenile females."
"I understand that. But what I have to say is private and I think not at all what you expect."
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