And its not as if I intend to harm her, he rationalized.
Confused and tangled in emotion, Roland managed to get through the lunch and return to his classroom still arguing with himself.
With relief he greeted his students as they filed in, bloated and lethargic from their repast. The afternoon passed with slow, agonizing tediousness as he tried to fill their little minds with some semblance of knowledge.
His task wasn’t made any easier as the weather outside turned gloomy and a steady, monotonous downpour lulled everyone into a somnolent state. When the final bell rang, Roland sighed tiredly, barely managing to be civil as his young charges stumbled out groggily.
An hour later, having restored his room to order and prepared his lessons for the next day, he made his way to the staff parking and retrieved his Mini Cooper. The rain had slowed to a soft drizzle that still managed to drench him to the skin through his linen shirt.
Muttering imprecations he cranked the heat on high and started out of the lot.
Two blocks later a flash of yellow to his right caught his attention though the gray mist. “Oh, no,” he moaned as he recognized Justine walking home in the rain, her cane sweeping confidently in front of her. Behind her a trio of teen boys trailed her; a scant dozen paces behind their eyes locked onto the young teacher.
Her sheer dress, soaked, was nothing more than a slight haze across the nearly nude body beneath.
Crossing traffic, he pulled up beside her, tapping his horn lightly to get her attention as he leaned across the seat to pop open the passenger door. “Get in,” he ordered as Justine turned toward him.
“Roland?”
“Yes. It’s me. Get in,” he advised again, “you’re soaked.”
Justine approached the open door, her cane tapping out its location, “I’m okay,” she answered, “it’s only another couple of blocks. And,” she added, leaning down to him, “I like walking in the rain.”
Roland sighed in exasperation, “Justine, you silly git. Your dress is fucking transparent. I can see everything. Why didn’t you wear my sweater home?”
Justine clutched at her chest, “I…I didn’t think about…”
“Get in,” Roland ordered again, giving the staring boys a hard warning glare as they watched the scene.
This time Justine didn’t hesitate before sliding into the Mini, pulling the door shut as she folded her cane, tucking it into her valise.
Roland stared at her for a long moment, noting with reluctant interest the tantalizingly erotic form of her breasts draped in wet cloth. Her nipples, hard and swollen from the cool rain, poked out in firm nubbins through the thin material. The apple-sized curves of Justine’s tits draped in translucent fabric left little to his imagination.
Worse, through the sheer fabric, Justine’s white panties were clearly visible even as she tugged the hem of her dress down to her knees.
Roland felt his cock twitch as he noted the supple curve of thigh and slender rise of her hips squirming in her seat.
“What were you thinking?” he admonished, tearing his eyes away from her with an effort as he put the car in gear and pulled into traffic.
Justine’s choked sobs startled him as she began crying in earnest.
“I’m such…such…a …stupid…” she hiccupped between sobs, her shoulders heaving as she cried. “I can’t…do…anything…” the wet waif curled into herself clutching her valise to her breasts as struggled to control her tears.
Roland, caught off guard by the sudden tears, didn’t know what to do. Crying women were a rarity in his life. He’d no experience in how to deal with the phenomenon.
Clumsily he muttered consolation, his hand patting her thigh. “There, there…its okay…it’s okay”.
Justine, distraught, clutched his hand like a lifeline, pulling it to her breast. “I’m so stupid,” she repeated again, “I just didn’t…didn’t think…”
Roland tried to ignore the feel of the warm flesh beneath the cold, wet fabric; failed utterly.
As her sobs quieted, Roland felt something in him weaken and crumble into dust as he held her tiny hand in his own. In its place surged a wave of protectiveness and a need to rescue this young woman; a feeling he’d never expected to find in his clinical heart.
She’s a subject, his rational mind objected, not a patient. You can’t do this! You risk everything!
Looking across at the blonde, Roland’s internal objections were swept away in a tsunami of emotion.
If you’re not doing it for her, he thought, and then just who are you doing it for?
The unassailable logic shifted his perspective into shocking clarity.
“It’s going to be alright,” Roland averred with a hard confidence, his voice deep, certain. Justine, holding his hand to her, turned her shimmering green eyes to him at the tone in his voice.
Saying nothing more, Roland sped onward, his hand now firmly holding Justine’s in his own with growing possessiveness.
Justine, her emotions spent, soon realized they’d been driving far longer than it took to get to her home. She’d never even told him exactly where she lived in the first place.
“Where are we going?” Justine asked, curious.
“My place,” Roland replied, “there’s something I need to show you.”
Justine laughed dryly, “That’ll be a neat trick.”
Roland blushed realizing his gaffe, “Sorry. I meant I need to explain something to you. The thing is I really don’t want to.”
“Why’s that?” Justine squeezed his hand in hers. “You know you can tell me anything. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
The pure innocence and naiveté in her voice plucked at him with barbed-wire fingers. “I hope so, Justine. I truly do,” he replied with an ache. “I can only hope you still feel the same once I’ve explained some things to you.”
“That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think,” Justine said, her sightless jade eyes raking his soul with unvoiced accusation.
Roland said nothing more as they drove on. His hand in hers felt normal, comfortable; as if it had always belonged there.
“You’re shivering,” Roland noticed as he opened the door to his brownstone condo and led Justine through the narrow hallway, his hand on her hip guiding her past tables laden with thick books and arcane odds and ends.
“I’ll fetch a towel for you,” he added, disappearing into an adjoining room to appear a moment later with a thick terrycloth towel.
“Can I use your bathroom?” Justine asked clutching the towel around her shoulders.
“Sure, this way,” Roland helped her into the lavatory, “take your time, I’m going to get out of these wet clothes myself.”
Roland left her in the bathroom and changed into an old pair of shorts and a crew shirt. Heading to the kitchen he put on water for tea and set about arranging the tea service.
“Do you have a clothes dryer?”
Turning, Roland’s breath froze in his throat. Justine stood in the doorway. The towel wrapped under her arms and fell to her knees. In her hands she held a small wet bundle of yellow fabric.
She’d taken the time to brush her wet hair into dark red-gold strands. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Ummm…do you have a dryer?” Justine asked again.
“What? Oh…yes, sure. Let me get that.” Roland approached and gingerly plucked the bundle from Justine’s hands.
“Is that tea you’re making?”
“What?” Roland could feel his mind losing itself in a haze as he stood like a statue with the wet rags in his hand, his eyes taking in every inch of the young woman before him.
“Tea?” Justine repeated, grinning at him.
“Oh? Oh, yes, yes…let me just pop this in the dryer and I’ll get it for you.” Dashing into the small laundry room off the kitchen, Roland unfolded the yellow bundle and started to shove it into the dryer. A small white pair of panties fell from the bundle onto the floor.
Leaning down to pick them up,
Roland realized Justine was totally naked under the towel. The panties in his hand, he felt heat rush through his loins; his cock twitching wildly as the scent of the young woman wafted upward.
Lifting the lacy white garment to his nose, he breathed deep. Scents of spring and sweet honey infused his senses with a heady aroma as he pressed the panties to his face. His twitching cock sprung upward in atavistic response forming a solid lump in his shorts; seeking to free itself from the confines of his briefs.
Without thinking Roland closed the dryer and started the cycle, the effulgent undergarment still in his hand.
He returned to the kitchen to find Justine fumbling at the tea service, her back toward him. Staring at the long expanse of thigh and calf, Roland wanted more than anything to touch the soft curves of her slender legs.
“You should let me do that,” he said, coming up behind her.
“It’s okay. I know how to make tea.” With uncanny accuracy she reached for the tea bin and felt along the tray for the infuser. Deftly she filled the infuser with tea leaves and lowered it into the hot water already in the waiting mugs.
“How do you do that?” Roland asked curiously.
Justine turned and smile at him, “The Force is strong in my family.”
Roland’s surprised laugh echoed in the kitchen and he felt the tension that had built in him ever since lunch ease away as she joined him with her own sweet chuckles.
“No, really,” he continued, “How do you do that?”
“Well. For the tea, its’ the smell. With the water, its’ the temperature. Those clues tell me where they are and how far away. After that, its’ just practice.”
“You could smell where the tea was sitting? Directionally? That’s amazing.” Roland was truly astonished by the feat.
Justine turned to him holding out a mug of tea for him to take. “Smell is the easy one,” she admitted, “Most people have learned to ignore the smells around them; take them for granted. My sense of smell only gets stronger, more refined as I learn to use it better.”
Sipping at the mug of hot tea she couldn’t help but add with a mischievous grin, “Take for instance the fact you still have my panties in your hand.”
Roland, looking down at his left hand, became aware that he held her white lacy garment tightly in his fist almost touching his still hard cock with the silky fabric as if he subconsciously sought to rub the material across his dick.
“It’s okay,” Justine assured before he could speak, “keep them, if you like.” Leaning back against the counter she sipped at her tea.
Roland set his mug of tea on the counter.
His free hand, warm from the hot tea, rose of its own volition. He cupped Justine’s chin in his palm, leaning forward he brought his lips close to hers; pausing just the barest moment before touching his mouth to hers.
Justine parted her lips, accepting, eager. Desire exploded in her sending hot streaks racing into her thighs and belly as Roland pressed forward, his mouth hungry, devouring.
His tongue brushed her lips before penetrating her mouth. Justine savored the clean, fresh taste of his mouth as he thoroughly kissed her as no one had before.
“I can’t do this,” Roland gasped, breaking the kiss as he held Justine by the shoulders.
“It’s okay,” Justine answered, leaning forward. Roland pushed her back holding her away from him though he wanted nothing more than to kiss her, touch her. If he did now it would all be a lie.
“I can’t. It’s not right. Look…there’s something I have to tell you.” Roland groaned. Releasing her he retreated behind the island seeking distance from her.
“Jeezus, Roland,” Justine complained growing irritated at him, “What’s the big deal?”
Growling his frustration Roland began, “I’m not what you think I am. In fact, the Academy, your job, all of it. None of it is what you think it is.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Justine, come on,” Roland exasperated, “Surely you must have thought something was strange about landing a job at the Academy when so many other experienced and far more credentialed instructors were clamoring for the position.”
“Are you saying I’m some kind of charity case?” Justine was growing angry. The fact that she had doubted herself lending his hurtful words credence she wanted to reject. “I do good work, Roland. The kids listen to me. Their test scores are the best in the state.”
“Justine, please. Listen. It’s not about your teaching, it’s about who you are, what you are.”
“And just what the hell am I?” Justine’s early desire was completely gone now as she listened to Roland’s words.
“You’re blind, Justine.”
“You’re just now noticing?” Justine’s sarcasm erupted from her anger.
“No. In fact, I noticed a long time ago. Long before you applied for your position at the Academy.”
“What are you talking about?” Emotion swelled in Justine’s breast as tears brimmed in her jade green eyes.
“You…you are an experiment.”
“An experiment!” Justine erupted, “What? To see if a poor little blind girl can cut it in the real world?”
“No! It’s…look; I’m not supposed to tell you any of this. If the people funding this ever found out…well…it wouldn’t be good.”
“Would you quit being so fucking cryptic and just spit it out?” Justine trembled with anger.
“Okay…okay, I will,” Roland sighed with resignation. “The Academy is more than just a secondary school. It also has a research function. That’s part of the reason why so many highly qualified academicians want desperately to work here. Our funding, in large part, comes from very hush-hush government sources.
“In exchange, we provide them with the results of our research. Much of what we do has military and intelligence applications.”
“Are you saying this school is some kind of clandestine government facility?”
“Well…yeah.”
“And just what is it that you’re researching for the government?”
“Organic Visual Enhancement Applications,” Roland answered. “The…people I work for were searching for a method to enhance visual acuity and perception in their operatives. Nearly ten years ago they caught word of my research when I was at MIT. I’d written a paper articulating a method for replacing optic nerve neuron sheaths with a modified covering in the impaired populations that would repair degenerative afflictions in the blind.
“Unfortunately it wasn’t the gist of my research that caught their attention but a rather offhand aside I included that such an engineered replacement could actually provide benefits beyond merely restoring normal visual acuity. Could, in fact, provide a whole slew of additional benefits: low-light and no-light capabilities, vision that stretched in the ultra and infra ranges, perhaps going so far as into the x-ray and gamma ranges.”
“It all depended on the ability of the brain to interpret the new data and the composition of the replacement neuronal sheath.”
Justine froze as she listened to his words. Her anger swept away in a flash as he continued.
“When they came to me with their proposal to fund my research with virtually unlimited funds and technical support, I jumped at the chance. I spent years developing techniques and processes. You have no idea of the complexities involved. It took almost five years to get to the stage where I was ready for animal testing.
“I’ve spent the last four years progressing my testing procedures, modifying the formula to fit their specifications. Then I discovered a compound using a superconducting alloy that showed great promise. I wanted to begin the testing all over again using the new alloy.
“They grew impatient with my progress. I told them it wasn’t ready…that the subjects were too often injured, even killed by the procedure.
“They were insistent. And…I was so close…so close to a breakthrough that…I agreed to speed up the testing…only…on human subjects.”
Roland’s shoulders slumped in shame as he thought of what he’d planned for this innocent young woman.
“And I’m your first human subject?” Justine whispered into the prolonged silence.
“What? No…no…there…there’ve been nearly a dozen subjects before you.”
Justine’s heart leapt. Dared she hope? Could what he was saying, implying, be true? “And what happened to them?”
Roland sighed heavily. “The first one died. He was a volunteer…from the Army. He was only twenty-two.” Roland paused reliving the guilt and horror he’d felt watching helplessly as Corporal Alan Ricks screamed on the table as Roland’s nanoalloy seared though his brain burning large swaths of grey matter, causing a massive hemorrhage.
“I wanted to quit right then. Told my overseers I was done…that it was a failure…wasn’t worth the cost. And for two months they left me alone.
“When they returned, they became rather more insistent, more threatening. Promising me riches in the same breath they warned me of dark, secret holes waiting for people who wouldn’t play along with their agenda.
“I’m…I’m ashamed to say they frightened me rather well. I agreed to continue with the testing. I spent countless hours over the next months reverse-engineering what I’d done that caused Ricks’ death before I’d try it on another human.
“When I thought I was ready, they brought me another subject. He…he survived. Barely. The new nanoalloy didn’t kill him, but…it did permanently blind him. As it did the modified alloys I created do to the next four subjects to one degree or another.
“Can you imagine, Justine, the guilt and shame I felt? Each failure doomed another to death or permanent darkness.
“But each failure taught me so much, Justine. I was getting closer and closer to the answer. I could feel it! But there was something I was missing. Some crucial interaction underlying the cause of the failures that eluded me. I went over and over my research looking for what I’d missed.
“In the end, it turned out to be so simple, so obvious I can’t believe I never considered it. Wouldn’t have unless my handler hadn’t made a sarcastic remark when I last threatened to quit the project, prison be damned.
The Eyes of Justine Page 3
