Ch 29: The Witness

~
(David)

Before I have time to think, I have very stupidly allowed Anwen into my apartment. She asked to come in and I reacted automatically and politely. I said yes.

Stop. This situation has to stop. No, just act natural. Yes, everything’s fine. It’s ok. No, stop this. Get her out of here.

She glides past me, entering my apartment. She lightly brushes against me as she passes. Oh fuck. I haven’t been this close to a woman in a long time. I’ve never had a woman here with me in my apartment.

I lean my head out the door and glance down the hallway. No neighbours. Why am I checking for neighbours? What am I doing right now? Trying to act natural, so naturally I’ve just allowed her to bring my laundry in. It’s normal.

“Just right there on the bed is fine Anwen, I’ll put it away.”

“Okay, there you go.” She places the clothing carefully on the bed and spends some time smoothing it so it doesn’t wrinkle. God, I am wincing at what I’m seeing right now. And the thing is, I know she would actually like it if I— No, just no. Stupid.

My thoughts are racing.

BuilderHelpers speak openly and casually of enjoying “pleasure” with each other, only in private, like a hobby or fun pastime. They have been conditioned from youth to think of sex this way. They make “pleasure appointments” with each other. They have been conditioned to view sexual pair-bonding of any permanence as a punishing, burdensome, ridiculous denial of good and wholesome human potential. It is also viewed as highly improper and offensive to display any kind of pair-bonding in public.

And they know that Infotechs are not sexually interested in them. More accurately, some of them are aware that an Infotech might be interested in them, but they ostensibly know that Infotechs are forbidden from showing interest in them.

But they’re really not expected to keep track of rules and customs and taboos that apply to Infotechs.

BuilderHelpers like Anwen have a special proclivity for overt sexuality, and a very keen interest in “pleasure”. In unvarnished scientific terms, they are conditioned for hypersexuality, although the behaviour does not manifest itself at all times.

Infotechs do not admit knowing these things.

It’s an open-secret “rumour” that the most beautiful ones, on the female side, are called “Amethyst models”, and they are available, or reserved, for the sexual pleasure of the Leader class. There is a similar arrangement with the males and the female Leaders. To me this only underlines the seriousness of the taboo. They’re for the Leaders, never for the Infotechs.

BuilderHelpers do not seem to have a corresponding taboo against sex with Infotechs, and it’s widely known that there are occasions when a particularly alluring or hypersexual BuilderHelper (of either sex) and an Infotech (of either sex) may find themselves in a questionable situation with the possibility of physical contact.

It is always the responsibility of the Infotech to avoid such situations, or if such a situation occurs, to extricate himself or herself as quickly as reasonably possible. It is never the responsibility of the BuilderHelper to avoid such situations; it would not be fair to expect that.

“Hey, what’s that?” She’s looking at my workstation, the display showing the NSC.

“Oh that’s nothing, I just play around with music stuff sometimes.”

“Music! Wow, I like music! Can I hear it? Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you!”

“Oh, uh yeah, ok, it’s just some silly thing I made up, it’s just a short little loop.”

“Play it! Play the music!” She’s nodding, looking wide-eyed at the display.

For some stupid, stupid, reason I press play and the music loop starts playing. It’s straight-ahead 4x4 techno in the classical style, not too fast, a simple bass line, a bit dark and serious-sounding perhaps. I remember when I made it. I liked it for a few minutes, then abandoned it.

“Ooh I like this! I like dancing!” She’s dancing now. She moves so gracefully. She turns around slowly in front of me, and the way her hips move so freely, almost paradoxically in spite of her very slim shape…I think I might go insane.

God, I am commanding you now to stop this. Stop me.

“Dance with me, please please please?” She quickly grabs my hands and tries to make me dance.

“Aw, I’m not a good dancer like you Anwen.” I move awkwardly with her.

“This is good music! You made this, David?”

“Yeah, I think it’s kind of silly actually but it’s nice if you like it.”

“No, it’s good! I love it!” She’s dancing closer to me now, and soon she’s dancing with her back against me. Our bodies are touching. She feels so light, soft and firm at the same time. She smells good. I pull back a bit, concerned she’ll notice—

But I can just stop this nonsense. Why am I not stopping this nonsense?

It’s ok, it’s just dancing, she just wants to hear the music.

She turns to face me and her facial expression has changed. Her eyes look a little dreamy and her mouth looks like a cheeky little sneer, and she continues to move. The 16-bar loop is still pulsing and she is making me understand why she likes it. She puts her hands around my waist and she’s pulling me against her. I can feel how perfect her body is.

“David. I like you. I like the music. I’m finished work for the day. I feel like pleasure. Mmm, it feels good. You can touch me. Can we have pleasure? Let’s do pleasure.”

This is already out of control. I can’t control this. There’s no way I can stop this.

“I don’t know, Anwen, we’re not supposed to…”

She looks up at me, still moving, and her face momentarily turns solemn, eyes narrowed, then she places one index finger over her lips which become a mischievous smirk. With her other hand she is moving my hand down her back. Now my arms are around her. I can’t believe I’m touching her. So perfect. I’ve never felt anything like this.

She suddenly tilts her face up and with her hand behind my neck she kisses me aggressively, making small moaning sounds. She snaps her top off in one motion and flings it aside. I instinctively lean back and take in the view of her body. I know my face has changed involuntarily to something that probably looks stupid or aggressive or both. I think my mouth is hanging open. I must look so hideous to her. God I hope I don’t frighten her. But now she’s making the same face back at me. We’re in sync. The music is still pulsing. This is happening. There’s no way I’m stopping this. How could anyone stop this?

This probably happens all the time, just do it.

Her hand reaches down to touch me and then she looks up, eyes wide, mouth open, then with little smirk she just says “Oh.”

She moves down and I’m earnestly feigning resistance. She is struggling a bit with my belt buckle as I feel her hair in my fingers. She is staring intently at my belt buckle, pulling it, and

Harrington

I see yet another message from Kade.

This evening I’ll be dining on Walleye cheeks, that part of the fish, a rare treat that most have never tasted, the part that is so tender and delicious. Historically reserved by the fishermen themselves for their own enjoyment. What they used to call “Pickerel cheeks” way up north. Drenched in a pool of clarified butter and scattered with roasted garlic cloves. It’s a delicacy harvested from one of my northern freshwater fish and game reserves. It’s so good, I’ve had it twice this week. The dressing and preparation of the fish requires meticulous attention to detail, and specialized knowledge like that of a local fisherman. The taste and especially the texture is just, well it’s beyond description.

I must remember to block Kade’s private channel after a brief grace period. It’s not appropriate for a former assistant to continue communicating directly with a Regional Leader. He’s been requesting a meeting to discuss his new employment at the – what is it, the shipping docks or something. I am sure he understands that I will not listen to complaints about it. He probably just wants some advice. I’ll probably have to talk to him at some point. As a friend. With my Walleye cheeks, just for fun I’ll be drinking a sweet Belgian ale as well as the higher grade whisky.

An urgent chime from my feed catches my attention: Eyes only, see WRAITH viewing platform. See live playback starting 12 minutes ago.

Down to my office. “Ok ready to view.”

And speaking of Kade, this alert is about David, our favourite Senior Prophecy Analyst. Good. An overdue turn for the worse, I expect.

WRAITH shows me a beautiful Amethyst model entering an apartment building. Very beautiful. I check her stats – Anwen, 22 years old, works in the apartment complexes, very highly rated, in the very few ratings that exist, for skills and demeanour with Leaders.

The feed tells me she’s at David’s apartment. Ok, I see. Knocking on the door of the lonely scholar. Good call by PAI to notify me.

What’s she got in her hands? “WRAITH move closer to the female subject at the door.” I see, she’s delivering his laundry. She’s at work, doing her job.

“WRAITH inspect the subject closely, move around her.”

“Continue moving around her.”

“Move down.”

“Move around her.”

“Move up.”

“Move down again.”

My obedient God.

“Ok, Close up to the face.”

Oh my, she is a special one. And dressed to enhance. A rare specimen like her should be working for Leaders full time in one of the Beauty Areas. How has she not been recruited yet? A family like the Strausses would appreciate her. They go through these girls so quickly. I pause WRAITH momentarily and whisper a quick reminder to have her recruited.

But what’s so interesting about a laundry delivery that WRAITH needs to show it to me?

I have a feeling we’ll find out momentarily.

They’re talking at the door. They seem to know each other. He is avoiding eye contact. And now he’s just standing there. Still standing there. They are not talking. She’s politely waiting for him to say something. What are you doing man?

Finally he snaps out of his trance. And whoops, in she goes, she’s in the apartment! David the Casanova! Surely he knows that young Anwen here is built for speed. Highly responsive, a touchy throttle and no brakes.

“WRAITH move inside, move close to the subjects, I want to see and hear everything.”

She’s putting the laundry on his bed. It’s ok to look, David. And he does sneak a little peek. But now he is actually averting his eyes. Still averting his eyes. She’s asking about his workstation. The music. He plays the music, and she likes it. It’s that hypnotic repetitive type of music. She’s dancing.

Manifested Gods, look how she moves. So perfect.

It’s just a matter of moments now before young Anwen’s switch flips to the “on” position. Better be ready, David.

And, here we go.

She’s rubbing herself against him. She’s all over him. He’s resisting. And no, he’s not resisting. She’s kissing him. Her shirt is off now. So beautiful. Their hands are all over each other. He knows he’s already transgressed, might as well go through with it. Good man, David, have a taste from the top shelf, old boy!

There’s never any interference from PAI pain administration during moments of transgression like this. Kompromat material. At these moments, if they’re important enough, PAI completely removes all interference with the nervous system, allowing the subject to feel sudden, sometimes euphoric, comfort. It’s nothing more than sudden pain relief.

Oh! Oh my, she is getting right down to it, quite literally. Down to business. Very highly rated indeed!

“WRAITH move down close to the girl.”

“Wait, WRAITH pause playback.” I look for a moment at the frozen image of young Anwen staring directly at my favourite Prophecy Analyst’s belt buckle region. Her face has a look of aggression, with narrowed eyes and the lips slightly baring gritted teeth. Very provocative, just to look at that.

Looking for a neuropak. Damn it, where is it. Where is my good whisky. Ah, there it is. Water. Wait for it so sync up. Ah, there’s that rich flavour.

“WRAITH resume playback. Stay close to the girl.”