The Strangelove Gambit

by David Bishop

Storm folded her arms. "Why?"

  Dante gave a little wave to Tempest but it went unnoticed. "Sorry?"

  "Why are you here?"

  "Well, it's a rather delicate matter."

  "Could you be more specific?" Storm demanded.

  At last Tempest noticed Dante at the door and called to him. "Mr Durward, you're here. Come in, come in."

  Dante smiled at Storm again before pushing past her. The twins' quarters were considerably larger than his own, filling almost all of the west tower's top level. Much of the space was given over to a private gymnasium, with a steam room and sauna against one wall. Through an archway Dante could see a double bed in the next room, an inviting prospect.

  Tempest continued to stretch and contort her body into new and ever more challenging positions while she talked to Dante. "Did you have any success with the matter we discussed?"

  "Yes. Yes I did." Dante reached into his jacket pocket and produced the data crystal. "My servant says he inadvertently picked it up and I tend to believe him. It's been several years since he renounced thieving and he has stuck to that pledge. Nevertheless, I have given him a severe reprimand and you may be assured this sort of incident shall not happen again."

  "I should hope not," Storm commented acidly from the doorway.

  "Could I have the crystal?" Tempest asked from the floor, her legs doing the splits while she bent her torso forwards to touch the mat.

  "Of course." Dante handed the crystal to her and watched as she examined its outer casing. He knew there was no visible evidence the Crest had breached the crystal. "I trust everything is in order?"

  Tempest smiled. "Perfectly. Well, thank you for all your help."

  "Yes, thanks," Storm agreed, opening the door ever wider so the visitor would have no problems departing. Dante frowned inwardly. This was not going according to plan. With most women he could charm his way into their affections a little, but the Strangelove twins appeared utterly immune to him. It was time to try another tactic.

  "You obviously both spend a lot of time working out," he ventured.

  "Yes," Tempest agreed. "Our athletic careers may have been quite short-lived, but we like to keep in shape. The body is a temple and no temple should be allowed to fall into disrepair."

  "I know what you mean," Dante said, sucking in his stomach and puffing out his chest. "I find maintaining a rude health is essential for my teaching."

  Storm arched an eyebrow at him. "You do?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  "Most definitely. But I do worry about my levels of flexibility. Perhaps you could show me a few techniques for improving that?"

  "We really don't have time for-" Storm began, but her sister cut in.

  "It would be our pleasure," Tempest replied. "Storm, why don't you come and help me?" Dante thought he caught a look pass between the twins, but wasn't sure of its significance.

  "Yes, I will," Storm said, shutting the door and approaching the mat. "This could be most educational for Mr Durward."

  Flintlock opened his eyes and resisted the urge to scream. He had already been subjected to more degradation in one evening than he had experienced in a lifetime. Now he found himself stark naked and handcuffed to a bed while Madame Wartski sat astride his chest, her corpulent body pressing down on him. She was wearing nothing but a black domino mask while her hands caressed a large, brown skinned toad mottled with green spots. The matron stroked the creature tenderly with one hand while smiling down at her sex slave.

  "I have a little secret. Would you like to know what it is, Flintlock?"

  He shook his head from side to side but she ignored his wishes.

  "Everybody knows of my passionate interest in toads, how I like to breed them. They all think that's the reason why I have so many warts on my body. But there's another reason."

  Flintlock wished he could tear his hands away from the restraints and shove his fingers into his ears, to block out what was coming next. Wartski leaned forwards, her pendulous breasts brushing against his chest as she held the toad in front of Flintlock's face.

  "The toads I breed secrete a powerful hallucinogenic from their sweat glands. Ancient tribes used to partake of it for therapeutic purposes. But via selective breeding I have developed a strain of toad whose secretions are a hundred times more powerful than anything which occurs in nature. All you need do is lick the back of such a toad and you will experience sensations beyond belief. Alas, indulge too often and you become very warty - like me."

  Wartski gave her toad a kiss, then ran her tongue along its back, sucking the sweat into her mouth. "The best part about this particular toad is that its glands also secrete a strong sexual stimulant amidst the sweat. Not only do you see visions beyond imagining, you will also reach a state of sexual ecstasy unlike anything before in your life."

  Tears began seeping from Flintlock's eyes, running down either side of his face. Wartski smiled benignly at him. "That's right, I also wept with joy when I discovered this delight. Now I am going to share it with you. Ah, Flintlock, if only you could speak and tell me what you are feeling right now."

  Wartski turned the toad around so its back was close to her slave's lips. "Lick my beauty's back," she commanded. But Flintlock kept his mouth firmly closed, not wanting any part of the matron's ecstasy. Wartski smiled and reached behind herself to grab hold of his testicles, squeezing them between thumb and fingers. "I said lick!"

  Flintlock darted out his tongue and made the tiniest of licks.

  "More!" the harridan ordered.

  Flintlock licked once more, rolling his tongue back and forth across the toad's back. Wartski released his privates from her grasp. "That's better. Now, we wait. In just a few moments you will begin to see me as the most beautiful creature you have ever encountered. You will do anything I desire, freely and without hesitation, debasing yourself in ways you never thought possible. The best part of it all? Afterwards, you will remember every moment, every wonderful second of pleasure and pain. Let the fun begin!"

  Flintlock closed his eyes. Maybe it won't affect me, he hoped. Maybe I'll be immune. Maybe I'll... Then the spots started dancing in front of his eyes.

  Dante had stripped off his jacket, shirt and boots, leaving just his trousers to take the strain. Storm and Tempest were already stretched out on the padded mat, bending and twisting their bodies into the unlikeliest of shapes. "Do you know yoga, Mr Durward?" Tempest inquired politely.

  "It can be nice with honey," he replied, smiling at his own joke.

  "She meant the Hindu system of philosophy aiming at the mystical union of the self with the Supreme Being in a state of complete awareness and tranquillity through certain physical and mental exercises," Storm chided.

  "Oh, yoga. Well, I've experienced a few mystical unions in my time, but wouldn't call my body a supreme being. Yet."

  "Let's begin with a basic position, shall we?" Tempest replied.

  "Let's. I can certainly handle the basic positions," Dante said.

  Five minutes later he was starting to have serious doubts. His body had been twisted, stretched and strained in ways he didn't think possible. Muscles and tendons screamed for relief, while his face tried to maintain a relaxed look. Sweat was pouring down the back of his legs and chest, creating unsightly damp patches on his trousers.

  By comparison Tempest and Storm were laughing as Dante's attempts to keep up grew more feeble. Finally he collapsed altogether, arms and legs flailing through the air before his body thudded to the floor. After lying still for half a minute he pulled himself up into a sitting position.

  "Well, that wasn't bad for my first attempt, was it?"

  "Pathetic," Storm replied.

  "Abject, to be perfectly honest," Tempest added.

  "Still, practice makes perfect," Dante maintained, wiping the sweat from his eyes. "Shall we hit the showers now or later? I could do with a little steam..."

  "We prefer to continue our exertions here on the mat," Tempest said, one hand reaching out to st
roke her sister's face lovingly.

  "Is that a fact?" Dante could feel his energy returning rapidly. "Well, I'm sure I can rise to the occasion."

  "After a good workout, we like to keep pushing each other to the limit," Storm continued, her own hands hungrily exploring her sister's body.

  "So I can see. Perhaps I can help out?" Dante asked hopefully.

  "I don't think..." Tempest said between kisses with Storm, "that will be necessary... Mr Durward... Ohhh."

  Storm began peeling off her leotard to reveal the perfect body underneath. "Please close the door on your way out." The twins flung themselves at each other, rolling over and over across the matting. Dante jumped to his feet to get out of their way, retreating to the doorway.

  "Well, I can see you've both got your hands full, as it were."

  The two women began moaning loudly as they writhed in ecstasy.

  "So I'll be off," Dante said, all too aware he was surplus to requirements. He opened the door and stepped outside, looking back wistfully at the spectacle inside. "Try to get some rest tonight." He closed the door and began back down the stairs to his own room.

  Dante, I've done it, the Crest announced. I've broken the code.

  "Good, then at least tonight won't be a complete waste of time. What data was stored on the crystal?"

  I'm still sorting through it all. The crystal appears to house a virtual reality simulation, made as a dry run for a presentation to the Tsar.

  "The Tsar was here?"

  No, he must have sent a representative to relay the report.

  "What does this presentation say?"

  I can do better than tell you, the Crest offered. I can insert your mind into it, so you can witness what Fabergè wanted the Tsar to see.

  "Do it." Dante opened his door and slipped inside. "Then we can-"

  "Then we can do what, Mr Durward?" a female voice asked.

  "Oh, no," Dante groaned. "Not another one!"

  "Not another what?" his visitor replied. "Don't tell me I'm not the first of your pupils to come inside your private quarters outside school hours?"

  Dante found Natalia draped across his bed. Unlike his previous visitors, she was wearing an old fashioned pair of striped pyjamas. As he watched she began undoing the first button of her top, exposing naked skin underneath. "Look, just stop, okay?"

  Natalia smiled at him coyly. "Why should I?"

  "I don't know what Helga has told you..."

  "Helga?"

  "Or Carmen. Or Mai Lin." Dante thought back, trying to remember if he had bedded any of the other students, but his mind had gone blank. "Or anybody else for that matter. I am not some gigolo willing to provide you with a night of pleasure free of charge!"

  "You mean I have to pay?"

  "No, of course you don't have to pay!"

  "That's good," she replied, rising gracefully from the bed. "I didn't bring any money with me, as you can see from my attire."

  "What I'm trying to say is-"

  "Yes?" Natalia asked, moving a step closer.

  "Is that I am not merely some kind of stud-"

  "That's not what I've heard," she continued, her fingers undoing another button on her top to reveal the swell of her breasts.

  "What happened before cannot happen again," Dante insisted. "It was a one-off occurrence, that's all!"

  "A one-off? I'm told you're capable of more than that - when roused." Natalia stepped nearer to her teacher, close enough to reach out and touch his jacket. "Much more than that."

  Dante tried backing away but the closed door prevented that. "Look, Natalia, I'm not sure this is a good idea. How old are you?"

  She smiled. "Just seventeen."

  "Bojemoi!" he gasped. "It wouldn't be right, wouldn't be proper if I..."

  "Who said anything about being proper?" Natalia sighed, pushing Dante's jacket off and stroking her hands across his chest. "I've got a surprise for you, Mr Durward."

  "Really? What's that?"

  "I've never been with a man - not a real man. You'll be my first." Natalia licked her lips and slipped her hands inside his shirt.

  "I'm sorry, but you're just too young," he protested weakly. "The others, they were women, but you're just..."

  "Just a girl?"

  Dante nodded meekly.

  "We'll see about that!" Natalia ripped his shirt apart at the middle, tugging the material away from his shoulders and down the arms. She leaned close to him, pressing her young body against his squirming form.

  "Please, don't do this," Dante whispered.

  Natalia looked him in the eyes and began to giggle.

  "I don't understand," he said in bewilderment.

  Natalia was laughing out loud now, staggering away from Dante as her whole body descended into hysterical guffaws.

  "Hey! What's so funny?" he demanded.

  Natalia collapsed on the bed, still laughing heartily, one finger pointing at Dante. "Your face! If you could have seen your face!" Another fit of hilarity overtook her, making further speech impossible. Dante waited until she had regained her breath before asking another question.

  "You mean you didn't come here to seduce me?"

  Natalia's face crumpled with disgust. "Euwwww! You're old enough to be my father. Gross!"

  "I am not old enough to be your father," Dante protested. "Well, only if I had been a very early developer. Which I was." Natalia was shaking her head so he abandoned that train of thought. "So why are you in my room?"

  "I need your help. I know the institute is a finishing school for young ladies of the Empire, but there's something else going on here."

  Dante sat beside her on the bed. "Such as?"

  "I'm not sure," Natalia admitted. "Fabergè hardly ever comes out of his laboratory, and when he does visit our classes it's more like he's looking at prized exhibits in a science fair instead of students."

  "You can't accuse someone because of the way they look at you, otherwise most of the Empire would be in a gulag."

  "It's more than that. I think he's conducting secret experiments on us."

  Dante, she may be right, the Crest said.

  "What sort of experiments?"

  "Everyone but me in the elite class has been given a detailed medical examination by Doctor Fabergè."

  "That's not so unusual..."

  "Under anaesthetic?" Natalia began nervously pacing the room. "I talked to each of the girls when they came back from these medicals. Their memories about what happened were fuzzy, at best - as if they'd been drugged. And the examinations themselves. From what the other girls described, I believe Doctor Fabergè has been removing unfertilised eggs from each of them."

  "Why? Why would he do that?"

  "I've done some research into his background. Fabergè was a co-founder of GenetiCo, the scientific research company. Have you heard of it?"

  Dante nodded. He had visited GenetiCo's orbital headquarters just before the war, with his half-brother Konstantin. The owner, Raoul Sequanna, had committed suicide rather than side with the Romanovs against the Tsar.

  "I think Fabergè has been continuing his genetic research on the island ever since, establishing the finishing school as a front for his activities. Whatever he's been working on, it must need unfertilised human eggs as raw material. The doctor has been taking them from his students, using us like white mice in a laboratory!" Natalia burst into tears.

  What she has just told you tallies with my findings, the Crest confirmed. But the Strangelove Gambit is far more terrifying than she could ever imagine.

  Dante went to the seventeen year-old and put a comforting arm round her shoulders. "If what you told me is true, it must be stopped, Natalia. But why choose me as your confidante?"

  "That's simple," she replied between sniffles. "I've read all about you, your exploits, the way you battle for lost causes and hopeless cases. You might act first and think last, but you're exactly the right man to stop Doctor Fabergè."

  "I don't understand," Dante maintained. "I'm Q
uentin Durward, a humble teacher. I may be one of the best swordsmen in the Empire but-"

  Natalia rested a hand against his lips, silencing him. "Hush. You don't have to pretend for me. I know you're Nikolai Dante."

  ELEVEN

  "Seeing is easier than foreseeing"

  - Russian proverb

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Dante maintained. "I'm a substitute teacher here on probation."

  "I saw it on your arm," Natalia replied.

  "Saw what?"

  "The symbol of the Romanovs, the double-headed eagle. It was visible on your left arm that night we met in the corridor, when you were holding my ice bag against your groin."

  Oops, the Crest mumbled. I told you it was problematic trying to maintain stealth status round the clock.

  "That's just an old tattoo," Dante said lamely.

  "A tattoo that appears and disappears?" Natalia asked. "Why do you think I ripped your shirt off earlier?"

  "I thought you were flinging yourself at me..."

  "I was searching to see if the symbol was still there." Natalia twisted Dante's left arm round to show the place where his Crest normally was. "It's gone, invisible to the naked eye."

  "Maybe I was wearing a temporary tattoo?"

  "It was a Romanov Weapons Crest, the kind that can be subsumed beneath the skin when necessary to protect its host from detection."

  The colloquial expression for this situation is: 'the jig's up'.

  Dante sat back down on his bed. "Have you told anyone else about me?"

  Natalia shook her head. "I wouldn't. I had to be sure first."

  "Then don't," he pleaded. "You're right, Doctor Fabergè has been continuing his experiments - that's why I'm here. He is unveiling a new weapon for the Tsar on Sunday. I'm trying to stop that."

  "I knew it! I knew you coming here couldn't be coincidence," Natalia said excitedly. Dante beckoned for her to sit beside him on the bed.

  "Natalia, it's important nobody else discovers who I am or why I'm here. You must know about the bounty on my head."

  "Yes. Don't worry, I wouldn't know what to do with all those roubles."