by Laer Carroll
Sylvia skimmed it, nodded. She put a hand on Raul's neck, extruded her claws just enough to dimple but not pierce the skin.
Before turning on the front-gate speaker Raul did some throat clearing and showed some nervousness. But when he had to speak he sounded normal enough when he told a group of day workers that the mansion was closed for a long weekend and they would be called when they were next wanted.
In the security cameras Sylvia saw two car loads of people turn away from the front gate. They seemed to think nothing of being denied work for a few days.
Several minutes later Raul had to repeat the performance for a van-load of people.
Then it was time for Sylvia to take care of the residents of the mansion.
Chapter 32 - Higher Ups
Sylvia had decided to tackle the master of the house first. But before she could leave the security center Issa had a request.
"Let me come with you. I want to help."
"I don't need help."
"Very well. Are you going to kill the boss? I want to watch. I want to do it. Please."
Sylvia had already seen enough of the woman to understand she cultivated a tough exterior, which helped create a tough interior. But there was in intensity in her expression now that told the monster this was very important to her. Perhaps the boss had singled Issa out for especial "training"—beatings and rapes.
Sylvia had taking note of which women showed initiative and intelligence. All seven of those in the center had done that. For one, they had used the adjoining bathroom to clean themselves up and improvised clothing from towels and scraps and such. The training had left them naked to urinate and defecate in their prison, making release from it and the ability to clean up and dress a reward for becoming meek whores. Issa seemed to be the best of the seven.
"Very well. But no shooting unless someone attacks us. I want to take as many of them alive as I can."
Sylvia made one last glance at the camera view-screens on the console. There was still no one in sight, but the quality of light was different. The sun had just cleared the horizon.
"Everyone," she said, and got everyone's attention. "We'll be leaving now to take care of all of the gang in this building. While we're gone, be thinking what we need to do next. And what part you want to play in it. And what we can do for the rest of the women who were brought here. I suggest you let the women downstairs sleep as long as they can. They'll need that sleep today. As will you. Don't worry, we'll arrange some way for you to get some sleep too."
"Ah," said Issa. "What do you mean 'take care of'?"
"I'm going to try to capture everyone here, drain them of useful information, and kill those that deserve it. A few may not. Raul, here, I MAY let go naked in the forest, for instance. If he's blameless enough. And useful enough.
"Any more questions? Important ones?"
No one had any, so Sylvia led the way out into hall, turning right and skirting the corpses on the floor. A little ways down was an elevator, but she disliked the possibility of being trapped inside. She took the stairs beside it behind a closed door. They were wide enough for the two to walk side by side up them.
At the first landing Sylvia listened at the crack between the double doors. She heard nothing and turned to take the second flight of stairs.
At the second landing she listened as before, but then eased open one leaf of the double door and stepped into a hall. The carpet here was thick, a rich golden color. The walls were beige with a gold stripe. Dim lights above gave the room a twilight aspect. The silence was utter. The sound-proofing was good, which meant occupants would not have heard her gun shots or any other noises.
They walked down the hall past the elevator door, which here was clad in a heavy golden metal decorated with elaborate curlicues. Opposite the door was a long narrow table holding a vase of flowers. They had been picked the morning before. Or taken from a florist's refrigerator.
The setup felt much like a five-star hotel, even to the row of doors on their right which might lead into apartments. And did; they were for family and friends, none of whom were in residence this week—luckily for them.
There was only one entrance on the left, a massive pair of double doors decorated like the elevator in elaborate golden trim.
Sylvia listened at crack in the door. Hearing nothing, she laid a hand on one of the two doorknobs and lightly twisted. It was locked.
Issa had a hand on the pistol in her holster. Sylvia looked at her and shook her head. Issa disgustedly let her hand drop to a neutral position.
The monster tightened her grip, twisted slowly, and heard the lock break. She held up her hand to indicate that Issa should stay in place to one side of the doorway, quickly opened the door, and flowed inside and to one side of the door.
A living room with a sunken floor was before her. It was elaborately furnished in the same golden hue as the hallway. No one was there. She heard nothing to indicate anyone was nearby.
She gestured Issa inside. The woman had obeyed her gesture to stay out of sight. She came in almost as fluidly as Sylvia had and moved to the opposite side of the doorway. Her hand was again on the butt of her pistol.
On the opposite side of the room were two hallways. One led, according to the floor plan the monster had seen below in the security room, to a kitchen and dining room, the dining room with a view of the lake to the south. The other led to the master bedroom, which also had a lake view.
Sylvia, followed by Issa, walked down to and across the recessed floor, avoiding a couch and chairs, and up again and into the hallway to the bedroom.
At the end of the hallway were two doors on opposite sides. Sylvia turned the knob on the right one and walked inside as casually as if it were her own home.
On a large double bed to her right lay a man in his 50s. He did not stir.
Sylvia glided up to him and touched him, sending him into a coma from which he never return without her help.
Issa stood in the doorway, crouched slightly. She was ready to draw her pistol but had not.
Sylvia turned to her and spoke in a normal voice.
"You can talk normally now. He won't wake up and this place is so sound-proofed no one outside it will hear you."
"What's wrong with him? Is he dead? On drugs?"
"No. I put him into a coma. What, did you expect I would run in, guns blazing?"
Issa let her gun hand drop to her side, stood normally, stared at Sylvia.
"I'm not human, Issa. You already know that."
Sylvia walked across to windows onto the lake to the south, looked out at the view. To her left the sky was brighter. The sun was fully risen.
She turned away, facing Issa.
"Now we make sure of the rest of this floor, then the second."
Sylvia passed Issa by, who was looking at the comatose occupant and slowly shaking her head. Then she turned to follow the monster.
The opposite room to the bedroom yielded an office, also with a lake view. Sylvia marked it for exploration as soon as the compound was secured.
No one else was on the top floor. The second floor, also sound-proofed, yielded seven men. All of them were asleep and fell to Sylvia's coma except one man who was up and exercising, watching TV.
He startled and gasped as Sylvia came into an open doorway into his room but she was on him too fast to let out the shout which would have rode on his expelled breath. Instead he fought against her hand on his throat until her coma-command took him and he wilted.
Sylvia let him down gently and rolled him onto his side. Then she lay a blanket over his bare torso to ensure he did not catch some illness while he lay in the coma.
On the first floor, as they walked past the two corpses toward the security center, Issa pointed at them.
"Why didn't you put them to sleep?"
"I can't put them into a coma instantly. It takes a few seconds, longer if they are active and longer still if their adrenaline is pumping. Besides, I was really pissed by what I'd just s
een in the basement."
"Glad to see something pisses you off. You've seemed almost bored by it all."
"Oh, I'm not bored at all. I've been working toward this for years."
Inside the security room she checked to see if matters were stable in the compound. They were, though they'd had to turn away some more estate workers. And all the hounds were wandering the grounds.
"I'll take care of that," Sylvia said. "But you can begin bringing up everyone in the basement. Find a bed for the woman who's sick but leave her there. I'll carry her up and treat her.
"Go and wake the women in the barracks. Leave the men alone, there and here. If you kill or beat or wound them they won't feel it. That's too easy. And it's wasteful. You can never tell when someone may have some useful information. This can't be the only gang members. I want to find them, too. And then kill every one of the bastards."
That got enthusiastic approval. Maybe it would even be enough to keep the comatose alive.
"Issa, you are my lieutenant. Appoint two or three sub- lieutenants and get organized. We need to get everyone cleaned up and fed. And leave the dead men alone. We'll put them in the lake later."
Sylvia was standing near Raul. She put a hand on his shoulder and put him into a coma. He wilted and she caught a shoulder to keep him upright.
"With all the activity we couldn't afford to keep a watch on Raul. Put him someplace where he'll be safe and on his side. He might drown in his saliva if you put him on his back."
Sylvia extruded a claw and sliced open the remaining three wrap-ties securing him to his ergo chair. She let everyone see the claw but did not make a big production out of the action. They needed to be reminded why they should not disobey her.
Two women came and used the ergo chair to wheel him into the utility room adjoining the control room. They were none too gentle getting him onto the floor but one of them did throw a large towel over him.
"One last thing. Leave the big boss strictly alone. He will know where the gang's money is and how to get it. For all you suffered you deserve that money."
THAT got their interest. All seven women brightened. Several of them got thoughtful expressions on their face.
There. Now the women were occupied with chores and plans. That should go a long way toward healing their psychic wounds from all that had happened to them. With some help from Sylvia's esoteric powers.
Issa accompanied her to where Sylvia had left the dog handler lying on the grass behind the garage. One of the dogs was sitting beside him. Sylvia had to breathe out a tranquilizer gas to tame the animal. Then the monster picked up the man and walked to a stand-alone kennel and a cottage beside it.
Issa was silent most of the way. Then at the dog manager's cottage she said "I'll get the door!" and ran ahead to open the door and hold it open. The dog followed them inside.
The cottage was sparely furnished but likely was comfortable for the man. It had a small living room with an entertainment console, an office with a desk in an adjoining room, and a small bathroom and bedroom. The bed was made up in an almost military fashion. Sylvia put him down on it, arranged him on his side, and took off his shoes and loosened his belt.
Sylvia went next into the office and looked around. There was nothing interesting there, except possibly a line of photographs of dogs in free-standing frames on far edge of the desk. A certificate of some sort was on a nearby wall, and another long line of dog photos.
"No people," said Issa, who had come in behind Sylvia and stood to one side. "No family."
Sylvia left the room. Issa followed.
"I suspect," the monster said, "that the dogs ARE his family."
Certainly the black dog thought something like that. Sylvia had to pick him up and carry him outside to keep him from staying by his master's side in the cottage. Outside she closed the door and spoke nonsense to the dog. It lay down unhappily by the door.
Issa was silent for a few minutes as they retraced their footsteps, thinking. Sylvia instead was looking about.
Issa said, "I don't understand why you didn't just kill that ass-hole. Instead you treated him almost like a child."
"He might have useful information. And he might be useful in other ways. "
Issa looked stubborn, so Sylvia said, "We can always kill them later. In fact, they'll all die if I don't wake them up. Their comas are permanent.
"And I may let some of them live. If they will be more useful to us alive than dead."
"I just want to go home."
"Without the money these people owe you?"
Issa was silent, thinking about that. And doubtless other matters.
Chapter 33 - Adjustment
By noontime much work had been done. Sylvia had toured the compound and was sure there were no kidnappers in hiding. She had also checked all the prisoners and comatose men and dealt with their worst physical problems.
This involved a bit of esoteric surgery on one of the men. A woman had disobeyed her rescuer's orders to stay away from the men and taken a golf club to him before dissolving into tears and lying down on the floor and willing herself to die. When that didn't work she tried to kill herself by borrowing a pistol from someone. Sylvia intervened and put the woman to sleep and, with help, to put her to bed. The monster also gave her body an esoteric command which would do much to help her to heal from psychic trauma.
All the women had had a bath or shower and were dressed in clothes. Much of the clothing came from the closets of the men and had been tailored in various ways to fit. But there were plenty of woman's clothes in the mansion, some of it very fashionable and some of it quite risqué. The variety of clothing the women chose created an almost circus-like appearance.
The dead men were taken one at a time to the boat house, four women to each body following Sylvia. She chose four different women for each man. She wanted every woman to know they were dead. The monster had them sprayed heavily with insect repellant to deter animals from nibbling on them. She planned to take them into the lake that night and sink them into the water. Perhaps, she thought, in the same area the criminals had sunk their dead.
Everyone had been given a spare breakfast and been assigned tasks. Some of the work was make-work but most was essential. This included a more elaborate lunch, communal style in a large ballroom in the mansion which had often been used for business meetings and entertainment for visiting buyers of prostitutes .
The large room had bad memories for some of the women who had been "talent" at those meetings. Sylvia had directed it be made up in a ring of bare foldable tables and chairs rather than the sometimes elaborate decorations for its previous uses. She hoped this would help ease those memories and begin building new ones.
When the lunch was winding down she stood where she had finished eating a large meal. There was a low dais on one side of the room on which a podium could be mounted, but she preferred to stay with all the women, spread in a circle all around the tables—an egalitarian arrangement she had borrowed from the knights of the round table.
The women before her quieted.
"Sisters," she said. "You all know me, and I'm beginning to know you. Forgive me if I don't always remember your names. I'm learning them.
"We need to discuss some matters, and decide some issues. A few matters are not up for discussion today, though we'll get to them eventually.
"First, we have to stay here for perhaps a week." Then she shut up, for predictably there were protests. She let them run down, then held up a hand.
"I know most of you are eager to get home. But all of you are sick in some way, even if it doesn't show. I've healed your worst problems, but it will take a few days to get you completely healthy physically.
"Notice I said completely . When I'm done with you you'll never get sick again. You will not even catch the common cold, which medicine still has not been able to conquer."
She stopped to let them digest that.
"You will heal faster than anyone else. You'll be stronger, sma
rter, and better able to resist pain than you are now. And you'll live longer than most. If you have children, they will inherit that, a little bit. "
Again she let them think of what she had said. Many faces showed doubt. She sighed. They needed more to convince them. Something concrete. And dramatic. They needed to have faith in her to speed their psychic healing.
"You know I'm not human. Some of you have even asked what I am. I'm something somewhere between an angel and a demon. Think of me as an avenging angel—YOUR avenging angel. And in my angel form I am not pretty."
She raised both hands above her head and to the sides, spread her fingers, and slowly extended her claws. She let the fat underneath the skin of her hands expand, her muscles become more defined. And she made the skin turn black. She had the transformation slowly continue down her hands and arms, stopping at her upper arms where they entered the camouflage tee-shirt.
Then she reversed the process and dropped her arms to her sides.
She looked at them, some two dozen women sitting in a circle. A few looked fearful. About the same number looked interested. The rest did not react much one way or another, perhaps because so much had happened this morning that their emotions had been fatigued by novelty. Or maybe they already accepted that she was inhuman.
"I hope you won't be afraid to let me touch you. I have to do that to complete your healing."
She waved an imaginary magic wand and smiled. "I can't just go Zap! you're healed!"
There were some chuckles at that and the atmosphere eased.
"Another reason why you need to stay here for a few days is to begin the process of transferring some of the money these bastards have made off you and those who came before you to a trust fund for each of you. If it was given to you in a lump sum the government would want a big chunk out of it. They'd also have questions about its legality, and might just take it all."
That switched their attention away from her "angel or demon" nature fast.
"And another reason still is that I need your help questioning the men and deciding what to do with them."
