part one
part two
part three
"Yes," she replied, "that's why I wished you would just...'be together' with me. In the long run, it helps so much." She slid off the bed, her nightie riding up just enough in the process to show a generous amount of thigh and a complete lack of undergarments. She walked towards the vanity with so much grace she appeared to float.
In the long run... Josiah frowned as she walked away from the bed. How in the world could he feel so guilty? She'd /drugged/ him. But there it was. He dragged himself to the edge of the bed and swung his legs out over the floor. "Ercinee-" he started, then cut off when the world went sideways and he slumped backward against the bedpost for support. "Oh." Right. Drugged. How silly of him. He sank to the floor and frowned at her. "What is it you want, really?" he asked.
Ercinee turned from the vanity holding a long, wound black cord presumably some kind of leather thong. "What I want," she began kindly, an ironic departure from the sinister object in her hands, "is really to help you. And in doing so, I'll be helping myself." She took a step forward. "You'll never be afraid, you will never be in pain, and you'll never submit so easily to anyone again. You'll be strong, you'll be respected, you'll be like a rock for your people. Isn't that what you want?"
Josiah's eyes widened at the thing in her hand. Surely - he swallowed dryly and picked out the one thing he could pull from her list to help him. "I'm - I'm respected." He fumbled for the safety on the P90 slung across his chest, cursing his rebelliously slow fingers. "As a scholar. I don't need - need to be..."
"You don't need to be what?" she asked, her voice that of a mother gently teaching her child an important lesson. "Don't need to be strong? But you do, Josiah. You have developed your mind, you have in there the reasoning power of 20 humans who have spent their short lifespans developing their bodies. But that is what makes you so precious, so vulnerable. You don't have to worry," she continued, unafraid, "I'm not interested in the secrets you know. I'm not interested in taking anything from you, I just want to train you, as the others have trained their muscles because right now," she paused as if knowing the last part would bring him great pain, "You... You, Josiah, are the weakest link in the chain."
He gaped, and for a moment, all thought fled. He'd thought - well he'd always reasoned that societies had evolved specialization, so that made it all right that... They weren't cavemen any more for cryin' out loud. As a people, they could afford to have some specialize in brawn, cunning, knowledge for knowledge' sake. Art for art's sake, even. That's - that's how he... How he'd gotten through years of studying societies where people like him were Darwined out, sometimes purposefully.
But it wasn't just a rationalization. It was a solid, well-researched theory. Her words had struck him to the quick, but only because they were designed to, he decided. He was, in theory, necessary to the mission, and if he was the weakest link, it was only because the consequences of his loss had the potential to be dire. So why couldn't he stop his voice from shaking when he answered her? "That- that's not true."
"You say it's not true," Ercinee began to idly tie one end of the cord into a slip knot, "but you were solely responsible for coming here. Remember the inscription on the tablet on... what is it you call it... P38-209? The carving was ancient, but you thought it looked like a language you had encountered somewhere else. There was an urn that seemed like some kind of canopic jar, and you eagerly removed it from the pedestal. Do you remember that now?"
"I... remember that," he replied cautiously.
"That was mine. When you touched it, I felt you, and brought you here." She sighed, "There is so much we can teach each other, Josiah. There is no reason to be afraid of what I offer," she reached out and gently stroked his cheek.
He flinched away and frowned, looking pointedly at the knotted cord in her hand. "And what would you learn from me?"
"An end to my isolation... companionship." She leaned in to kiss the place her fingers had been. "You can teach me comfort, tenderness... I need these things..."
Josiah closed his eyes at the feeling of her lips on his cheek, a starkly gentle reminder of what she'd been able to do to him without even really trying. What kind of being could feel his presence through an artifact, take him who knew how far from his team? What else did she have up her sleeve? Clearly she was able to elicit pity from him, guilt. She was still doing it, even now that she was probably telling the truth. However many years here, alone. It was no wonder she had reached out to him in such a completely unreasonable way. "I can't teach you comfort when I've been kidnapped," he murmured. "You're holding me against my will."
"I won't keep you here forever," she promised, "but the training is hard, I admit, and if you would have only let me provide you with ecstacy you would see that the rewards are greater than the drawbacks... and besides," she paused and bit her lip, looking away as if unsure whether to reveal her hand too much. "You aren't here against your will. There is a way to leave."
Josiah gathered himself together to focus on the task at hand. Silverhawk would expect him to be trying to get back to the team. Regardless of his own curiosity, that had to come first. People could even now be throwing themselves into danger on his behalf, and he didn't fancy having to explain why he was sitting around having a tea party while they were putting their butts on the line to rescue him.
"How."
Ercinee sighed and rested her hand on his P90. "Shoot me. Several times. Without me to sustain it, the connection will be severed and you will return to P38209."
He stared at her, willing her to admit that she was lying. He couldn't even pretend to threaten her with doing just that, because he'd already admitted that he'd never had to shoot anyone. He'd gambled away all of his chips before he even knew he was playing the game. Crap.
Soooo fine. Maybe if he just went along with her for a little, she'd get tired of him and put him back. "What's this... training involve?" he murmured, the taste of defeat sour on his tongue even as his curiosity was piqued.
"Well, first of all," she crooned, leaning in to kiss his lips, running her hand down his waist. When she pulled back she had his sidearm, "these aren't necessary." She tossed the weapon behind her as if discarding an unwanted toy. "Still interested? You still have another gun to shoot me with..."
"You know I don't want to do that," he groused, laying it all out. "If I'm going along with this, it's just because I find the idea of shooting someone several times to be really low on the option totem pole. Not because I'm interested in being trained to be ... strong or..." He stopped talking before his voice could waver. He'd never been sensitive about his ability or lack thereof before. Side effects of the drugs?
"And that's what I'm talking about," Ercinee said gently as she removed the P90 from it's security around Josiah's shoulder. "If you didn't need me, you would have shot me and returned to your normal life."
Even if he hadn't been chemically sedated, her words might've rendered him too stunned to prevent the removal of his second and last means of defense. Which really just proved her point all the more.
No, no, no, damnit. His reluctance to resort to force was... a good thing! Not particularly useful in certain situations, sure, but -- Oh cripes. Fine, /most/ situations. Still! When had he become such a pushover? What would Austin do? Well... he was past that now. Austin, Silverhawk - none of them would have allowed themselves to be disarmed so handily.
Oh man, the Major was going to be so pissed at him.
"I don't think strength is synonymous with accepting violence as a means of escape," he replied. "If I were a mass-murderer, passing up the chance to shoot you full of holes just now would have been a great show of strength."
"It would have been a great show of strength, but such an unthinking brute like a mass murderer would never have made their way here," she countered. Something dark in her eyes suggested that she had little regard for mass murderers or the correlation. "Besides, I didn't make the conditions that difficult. I haven't used excessive force. Wily, unfair feminine force, yes, but only because I was just hoping..." she sighed. "It'll be a bit rougher this way. Are you sure there is no way I can... change your mind about 'being together?'"
Josiah was halfway through forming the required thoughts to say "At this point, I don't think you could turn me on with a car battery and a light switch" when a whiff of her sweet breath reminded him otherwise. "Uhm," he murmured, swallowing. "No. Thanks." How rough could it be, anyway?
"Very well then." Ercinee pulled on his fatigue top at the shoulders, sliding it off of him.
Josiah frowned. "I thought..."
"Oh no. You had your chance at that," she smiled darkly as she looped one end of the cord around his wrist and began to wrap it around the other. "But I may let you beg me for it later."
Josiah pulled back weakly, eyes wide. He hadn't counted on being bound. Training... wasn't like. Endurance? Strength? "Uhm. What exactly is involved in this... training thing?" He'd asked before. Her lack of a definitive answer should have tipped him off. Not smart, Sho-sye.
"Pain," Ercinee replied without smile, "pain and pleasure, at the same time. A lot of it in increasingly concentrated amounts. Your mind will eventually come to confuse the two, pleasure for pain and pain for pleasure. Right about the time you break, your will undergoes a self-defense transformation. After that, neither pain nor psychic attack will have have the slightest effect on you. You'll be able to withstand anything, absolutely any situation, without fear. You'll be free..." her eyes softened, "I can't wait..."
"Ah..." Josiah breathed. She was insane. Everything made so much more sense when he realised that little fact. "I can. I changed my mind. Can I shoot you now please?"
part five
part six
part seven
---
Ercinee (c) Mary
Post written co-operatively
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