Variant Exchange

by Fox J Wilde

  “So, you are going to kill me, then?” Vivika asked, as plainly as she could manage.

  “Isn’t that fairly obvious?”

  “Well...” Vivika weighed her words, “I guess there are a few things I don’t understand.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well…uh...”

  Vivika took a tally of the situation. She wasn’t in a black cell or torture room, or even the confines of…well, anything confining. She was simply sitting in the booth of a cafe, sitting across from what, by all appearances, appeared to be her babysitter for the evening. Vivika was quite familiar with the investigation techniques of these types of people: they always sought to build rapport…whether that was a ‘good rapport’, like making you feel at home and equal, or ‘bad rapport’ by outright dominating you. These people were masters at sensing your weakness—finding a wound and sticking a hot poker inside of it to see what made you squeal. But all things considered, the Dragon Lady was doing a horrible job. She was intimidating, that was for sure; but the situation didn’t add up, and the confines of the café didn’t lend to her threats.

  “I guess I just don’t understand why you would want to.” Vivika tested.

  “I just explained that to you.” Dragon Lady scowled, “I think you are stalling.”

  “But…why would you want to hurt me? Do you enjoy it?”

  “You already know I do, dear.”

  “What is it about pain that you enjoy so much?!” Vivika whined, trying to keep her voice down.

  “Oh, I don’t enjoy pain at all.” Dragon Lady smiled. “On the contrary…I do whatever I can to avoid pain. It’s a terrible, terrible feeling. That’s why I enjoy making others feel pain: because I know how horrible it is, and I know how horrible it is for them. It’s not just that I enjoy what they are feeling—how they move, or how they squeal. I enjoy watching them try to rationalize what’s happening to them. ‘Why is this happening to me?!’, ‘Maybe if I twist this way, it will hurt less!’, ‘Maybe if I cry, she’ll stop slicing.’ All of the little lies people tell themselves to convince themselves that there’s a way out of it. If they just try this, or if they just try that, it’ll eventually be over. Whatever logic they use, it eventually culminates in the realization that it’s never going to stop. That’s when I become their god. And that’s what I’m going to do to you, dear.”

  “I think that’s vile.” Vivika scowled, as bile welled up.

  “I think that it’s more your problem than mine.”

  “I think you are sick.”

  “Why would I care what you think?” She laughed coldly, “You should hear the things people scream when I’m working on them. They beg, they plead, they offer, and they tell me everything, down to what their wife looks like naked, and what their children’s deepest fears are. They lose all loyalty to everything and everyone. Except for me, little girl.”

  By all measures, the things that Dragon Lady was saying should have made Vivika cower where she sat. Yet something rang strangely. Dragon Lady was enjoying this immensely, talking about her favorite hobby. Yet she had stopped calling her ‘dear’, and was now calling her ‘little girl’. Vivika couldn’t quite put her finger on it…but it was as if the Dragon Lady felt she had found a wound with which to salt…a position of power she could exploit.

  “I’m not a little girl,” Vivika said, testing the waters.

  “Of course, you are.” Dragon Lady grinned maliciously, “You are a tiny thing…all skin and bones, shivering with fear. You’ve been playing your little spy games and now you’ve been caught, like you always knew you would be. You knew it was going to happen, and now here you are, staring down the barrel of your reckoning.”

  Dragon Lady was clearly trying to make her feel small; yet once again, something wasn’t clicking. Dragon Lady was becoming more volatile by the second, acting more and more triumphant. Yet she hadn’t accomplished anything except for scaring Vivika more. Oh sure, that was certainly a triumph; but that wasn’t the triumph that the evil bitch was aiming for. She was becoming more volatile in the hopes that Vivika would…what? What was it that the Dragon Lady wanted?

  Carefully, Vivika played back the conversation in her head. Dragon Lady had, thus far, not asked her any questions. That might mean that Dragon Lady already knew everything…or it might mean that she hadn’t yet found something to probe.

  “I…I…” Vivika stalled. She tried to cower just a bit. It was easy to do, since she was afraid. But it seemed to make the Dragon Lady feel even more triumphant. There had to be a way to use that to her advantage.

  “I…I…” Dragon Lady mocked.

  “What do you want from me?!” Vivika whined.

  “I have already told you what I want, you imbecile!”

  “Actually, no you haven’t.” Vivika straightened up a bit at ‘imbecile.’ “You’ve told me that you want to hurt me, and you’ve more-or-less told me why; but your reasons don’t add up.”

  “Oh, you weak, little girl.” Dragon Lady leaned forward, “You stupid, insignificant little girl.”

  The ploy had worked. Vivika had sensed the first time that Dragon Lady had said ‘little girl’, and detected that she had wanted to demean her. But when the Dragon Lady had switched to ‘imbecile’ and Vivika had appeared to react to that, Dragon Lady had switched back to ‘little girl’. Vivika was now quite sure that Dragon Lady was investigating her. Thus, Vivika decided to give her what she wanted and begin cowering again. Surely this would give her some time to figure out what was going on.

  “I’m not weak.” Vivika said, feigning offense, “And I’m not a little girl!”

  “Sure, you are!” Dragon Lady smiled, “You are playing a game you know nothing about. Running around, playing your little spy games with Matt and MI6…did you really think that you could play those games against professionals like me? Oh, you stupid, worthless little bitch.”

  “MI6?” Vivika thought to herself. “What the hell is MI6?”

  Suddenly, Vivika recalled the conversations that she and Lena had discussed in Lena’s bedroom. She remembered the story that Lena had told about the British asset at the Interhostel—about how the British apparently always chose pretty women as assets (something all the agencies seemed to do, apparently). Naturally, Vivika had assumed that Patrick and everyone else in the HVA was already in on everything that she and Lena had been doing. Vivika just assumed that Dragon Lady did too, but now, she wasn’t so sure.

  “Wait...” Vivika shook her head, “What are you talking about?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about, little girl.”

  “No, I really don’t. I have no idea who MI6 is!”

  “Lie to me again.” Dragon Lady seethed, “Go ahead…see how that plays out for you.”

  “So, this is an investigation!” Vivika said to herself. “But they wouldn’t be doing that unless…unless they didn’t know everything about Matt and Lena and me. But what do they already know?! What could they possibly know for sure about me?!”

  “It’s a good thing for you that we are in public.” Dragon Lady smiled, sweetly. “Because otherwise, I would reach across the table and rip those pretty tits of yours off. But don’t you forget that the night is still young. Everything you say past this point will determine what happens when we get back to the black cells—and I have so many things planned for you, sweet girl.

  “I’m going to become your life. I am going to become your only reality. You are going to have a long, exhausting life ahead of you, sweet girl. You will rise to the sound of your own screaming, and fall asleep to it at night. Pain will become your best friend. You will eat misery, drink agony, and live only to bring me pleasure in your suffering. And if you lie to me again, that life will get an early start.”

  Überfrau

  Lena had run a time or two in her young life. But even at the best of times, she had hated the experienc
e and sincerely questioned whether or not a short, unhealthy life was preferable to a long one spent gasping and wheezing for breath. This time, however, the answer was quite clear: she wanted as long a life as she could possibly manage, and she would all-out sprint for the remainder of it, if need be.

  You would have never guessed that a smoker could move this fast. Yet, fueled by the phantom pain of promised bullets screaming into her backside, she may as well have been an Olympic sprinter. She had no idea if Patrick was behind her, if he was laying on the ground, or if he was catching up. All she knew was that she was wasting precious seconds even considering it.

  The crowd outside the venue was lazily shuffling about, waiting for the front gates to open. Some smoked, some drank, and some were making out silently behind a pillar. A larger percentage by the second, however, were beginning to take notice of the girl running headlong into them.

  “Hey…look who it is!”

  “No, no no no no no...” Lena screamed at herself, “Don’t recognize me! Please don’t recognize me!”

  “It’s the Mad Bunny!”

  Suddenly, the crowd perked up with curious energy. As Lena approached, one set of eyes became two, then four, then ten—suddenly, everyone standing outside of the venue was now looking at her and cheering wildly.

  “Oh this is not good! There’s no way I can lose Patrick like this!”

  “Hey, will you sign...” someone asked, as Lena shoved her way through the crowd.

  “Sorry…sorry…sorry…” Lena apologized, as she ducked behind the crowd, trying to find her way towards the front door of the venue. “One stinky punker coming through!” she said, motioning the crowd out of her way. Contrary to her wishes, the crowd began to gather around her, blocking her passage.

  “Where did you get your…!!”

  “Are you single?!”

  “Will you sing us a song?!”

  “Are you single?!!”

  Hands reached around her, offering what would have normally been a protective shield of friends and extended family. Now, they were a net that placed her in imminent danger.

  “I’m so sorry!” Lena hazarded, as cheerfully as possible, “I have to get in for sound check!” Carefully, she looked behind her. Oh…she really shouldn’t have done that. Through the fog of hands, shoulders and multicolored hair, she spied the malevolent figure of Patrick, off in the distance, gathering himself off of the ground. Something about the way that he held himself seemed a silent promise to Lena…that once he found his way to her, whatever the original plan for her safekeeping was, it was now off. If Patrick found her, he was going to beat her within an inch of her life.

  Lena moved slowly through the crowd, immured by human bodies as if trying to wade through grasping quicksand. As fate moved closer and closer, time slowed. The wobble of fear began to slow her steps as she finally made it to the front door of the venue where a bored bouncer stood, smoking a cigarette.

  “I’m here!” Lena said cheerfully.

  “Good for you.” the bouncer replied, not even looking at her.

  “No, I’m…I’m here to perform!”

  “Again, good for you.” the bouncer replied, just as unimpressed as before.

  “No, I’m...” Lena stuttered, “Look, I’m the Mad Bunny! I’m the lead singer!”

  “That’s great, sweetie.” the bouncer replied, casually looking at her before going back to his smoke.

  “W-what the fuck is your problem?” Lena yelled, “Let me in!”

  “Can we please not do this?” the bouncer said, apathetically. “Every show, there’s a million of you who try to weasel your way in. It’s not going to happen, ok? Get to the back of the line.”

  “You just don’t understand!” Lena cried.

  “Back of the line, sweet-tits.” the bouncer said, before putting a grubby hand up in front of her.

  Lena looked back to see Patrick had reached the back of the ever-gathering line of people. He was walking quickly and looking about frantically, looking over every person and every face, searching for Lena. Tiny spiders of mounting fear and panic were creepy-crawling up her spine. She could feel his hands wrapping around her throat, choking the life out of her as flecks of spit smacked her in the face. Whatever Lena was going to do, she had to do it now.

  “Would you four come with me?” Lena motioned at a few random fans. “I need some help loading gear.”

  “Wait…really?” a young man with bright blue hair and the craziest red fedora that Lena had ever seen said. His friends, two women with hair so colorful it bordered on ultraviolet, seemed even more cheerful than he was.

  “We’re not that strong!” one of the girls whined. “Aren’t musician things heavy?!”

  “Trust me,” Lena smiled breathlessly, “you’re perfect!”

  Lena hazarded another searching look for Patrick. She’d lost track of him! With panic boiling over, she tried to maintain control while casually ushering her volunteer stage hands along.

  “This way!” Lena said, walking slowly back down the line. “Come on, I’ll get you all backstage.”

  Silently, she scanned the crowd for Patrick—he was bound to see her the very second she walked past. Unless…

  “I like your hat!” Lena said to the young male walking in her makeshift posse. “Can I try it on?”

  “Hell yeah you can!” he said enthusiastically, offering her his hat.

  “Here, you can try on my jacket.” Lena quipped, disrobing and offering it to him.

  “I think it’s a little small for me, but I’ll try!”

  “Logan, don’t fuck up her jacket!” one of the girls swore.

  “It looks terrible on you already!” the other girl laughed, as the boy, Logan, struggled to fit inside the diminutive confines of her jacket.

  As nonchalantly as she could manage, Lena led the group down the line. She knew full well that she would pass Patrick at some point—indeed, it was the only chance of survival that she had. Stifling the urge to walk briskly (and draw his attention, wherever he was), she adopted a casual shuffle, making sure to keep the brim of her hat low.

  Suddenly, she saw him—there he was, weaving in and out of the crowd, frantically searching for any sign of her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...” Lena screamed at herself. She switched places with one of the girls quickly, and fell back behind Logan, putting his body between herself and the view of Patrick. As she walked closer and closer, she sped up slightly to keep Logan perfectly between them.

  Ten paces…seven paces…five paces…three…

  Now she was directly perpendicular to him…

  Three paces…five paces…seven…

  “Hey, don’t walk so fast!” Logan complained, as the group struggled to keep up.

  “Sorry...” Lena apologized, realizing that she was now walking rather quickly.

  She slowed to a normal pace, attempting to follow a conversation she could barely hear above her raging fear. As soon as she dared, she looked behind her to see if Patrick was following. Thankfully, he appeared to still be searching the crowd.

  “Whew. If I can just make it inside and onstage, I’ll be safe. For now, at least.” Silently, she thanked Vivika for the serendipitous lesson in losing surveillance agents.

  “So, what’s it like being a big rock star?” one of Lena’s female companions asked.

  “It’s gotta be so sweet!” the other girl said.

  “Oh, it’s wild.” Lena admitted, “It’s a lot crazier than you might imagine.”

  Dragon Lady stared imposingly at Vivika. Her face was a mixture of triumph, hatred, and an inquisitive energy that bordered on lustful. It was a particularly alien form of emotion that she had a hard time placing. Truthfully, however, Vivika didn’t really feel the inclination to try. This was a vile, subhuman excuse for a person, and Vivika wanted no part in anything she represented. With t
hat understanding firmly in place, a picture was beginning to paint itself in Vivika’s mind—the picture of a new paradigm. What if…what if…oh, the picture just wasn’t complete yet, and Vivika wasn’t able to articulate it fully. She had to test the waters first—and she would have to placate this monster to do so.

  “Please…please don’t hurt me,” Vivika winced.

  “Oh, we are far past that, little girl.”

  “Wh-what do I have to do?! What do I have to do? I’ll do anything!”

  “There’s nothing you can do!” Dragon Lady practically salivated, “I already know that you work for MI6. I already know that Lena does as well, and I know who Matt works for. There’s nothing you have that I want.”

  Vivika cowered, but it was all an act. The Dragon Lady had her facts wrong—and it made Vivika wonder what else she didn’t know. Perhaps Vivika could take a page from this horrible woman’s book, and play into her fantasy a little bit. Perhaps if she could completely switch the Dragon Lady into a different line of thinking, she could talk her into revealing her hand.

  “I’m so sorry!” Vivika said, as tears began to well up, “I didn’t know what to do…I didn’t want to, but he was so forceful about it!”

  “That doesn’t excuse you!” Dragon Lady responded acidly, “You could have told someone, but you didn’t! You kept it secret. Now look at the damage you have caused!”

  “I know, I know! I’ve been terrible!” Vivika looked her in the eyes, “He offered me money…he offered me free passage into the West! I didn’t really believe him, but…oh, I shouldn’t have!”

  “Of course you shouldn’t have. How in the world could he have gotten you across the Wall?”

  “It was ridiculous to even consider! I’m so sorry I’ve caused so much trouble!”

  “Not as sorry as you are going to be once we leave here.” Dragon Lady smiled.