FOREIGN PRISON

Chapter 19


THIRTY-FOUR HOURS LATER

Mandy used her arms to pull herself to a standing position. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She felt a strand of hair across her eyes, and she brushed it out of the way and behind her ear, though it didn't interfere with seeing. Nothing could be seen in the pitch-black cell. She brushed her hands carefully across the shelf, mounted on the wall at the level of her breasts, to see whether any food had arrived while she slept.

The bowls on the shelf were still empty. Disappointed, she decided to remain standing for awhile. Her butt was numb from sitting on the hard floor, and it felt good to stretch her legs.

After a time, she sat back down again. The chain clinked against the wall.

The heavy chain was affixed to a ring embedded in the stone wall. Mandy had pulled at it for a long time to see whether she could loosen the ring, but it resisted all efforts she was capable of mustering. It felt like concrete immediately around the ring, rather than stone. That seemed likely.

The chain ran from the wall to the thick steel bands around her wrists, its last link connected to both wristbands and holding them together in front of her. The chain was just long enough to allow her to sit on the floor -- there was nothing else to sit on -- with her arms held up straight, hands above her head. It didn't allow her to get her hands any lower. Her elbows could bend just slightly when she was in that position.

There were equally thick bands around her ankles, connected to each other by a short chain, about six inches, that ran under another ring embedded in the concrete floor, about eighteen inches in front of the wall. She sat with her knees bent, her heels not far from her butt. Overall it felt better to stand, but her legs eventually tired.

There was a hole in the floor just inches to the right of her butt. She could move to it, and situate her butt over it, when she needed to pee. Or to poop. Moving sideways to the hole stretched her arms to the limit, but it wasn't too hard.

The room itself was very small, though bigger than that tiny airless closet they had kept her in for a few hours after they had first brought her here in the helicopter. In that closet she could only stand. Here, the floor was about four feet square, with a six foot ceiling. Mandy knew that because she had seen the cell, briefly, when they led her in through the open door and secured her in the chains. Since then, since they'd closed the door, there had been no light.

There was some sort of air circulation. Being unable to see, she couldn't determine just where the air was coming from.

It didn't really matter how small the room was: chained the way she was, she still couldn't reach any of the walls other than the one behind her back. They could just as well have left the door unlocked; she couldn't touch it. But no doubt they had locked it.

The only furnishing in the room, which she had seen before they closed the door, was the narrow shelf. There was a sliding panel in the wall just above the surface of the shelf. Once in awhile, the panel was slid open, and two bowls, one with food and the other full of what tasted like cold milk, were deposited on the shelf, and the empties were removed. Even then, there was no light. Whoever gave her the food must be finding his way around outside her room in night-vision goggles, Mandy had decided. She had tried begging whoever it was to help her somehow, the first few times. She'd given up on that.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been here. Based on the level of hunger she reached between meals, which was significant but not intense, she thought they were probably feeding her twice a day. She'd had five meals, so she assumed this was her third day. She had no idea at all how much longer she would stay.

With the food and the waste hole, there was everything she needed to continue living. But nothing more than that.

She knew she was naked, but couldn't make herself care. There was nothing to do that she needed clothes for, and no one to see her.

She had cried, hard, for hours after they'd first locked her away in here. She thought now she should try crying again, just for something to do. But the crying wouldn't come. You can only do it for so long, it seemed. The worst time had been when the thought ran through her head that they might intend to keep her here in this tiny room, chained and blind, for the rest of her life, that she might spend many years here. She didn't know how long she had screamed then, jerking at the chains in panic. Her throat still felt raw, from that. The screams had finally settled back into crying again.

She had tested her restraints more calmly for hours, trying to find how secure they were, to find whether she could expand her freedom of movement in any way. The steel bands were perfectly fitted to her wrists and ankles; not tight enough to interfere with circulation, but snug enough against the skin that there was no possibility of slipping out of them. The padlocks securing the bands were thick and heavy, as were the chains. She had spent a long time feeling the locks on her wrists with her fingers, searching for any sign of weakness. She couldn't reach the ones on her ankles with her hands, but had spent considerable time feeling them with her feet and toes. She had tried to find some other position she could get into that she had overlooked, other than standing, or sitting with her arms stretched over her head and her legs pulled in. There wasn't. She'd learned to sleep in that sitting position.

Most of the time she just sat quietly, motionless, against the wall. She was getting good at keeping her mind blank for a long time.

At least Rachel had been right. They weren't hurting her anymore. No slapping, no shouted questions, no clips attached to her nipples. Nothing stuck up her rectum. No electrical shocks where they would hurt the most. She was glad of that.

She sighed, and blanked her mind again, letting time pass. In awhile she would stand up and stretch again.

*   *   *   *   *

Rachel stared glumly at Mandy, visible on the video monitor. "Could I talk to her?"

Mandy's image, produced by infrared light, appeared on the monitor in ghostly green. Mandy looked completely absent, and Rachel had nearly convinced herself twice that her friend was dead, but then Mandy would stir slightly, moving her head, shifting her position a tiny bit.

The general shook his head. "I only wanted to prove to you that we have not been hurting her, so that you will keep your promise. If you continue your good behavior, we may expand her freedom in small steps. In a few weeks."

Left unspoken was the other side of the equation: that if Rachel misbehaved, Mandy would suffer for it.

The general looked up and signaled to Boris. Rachel could tell that her time watching Mandy was up. She didn't know whether she would have another chance, and didn't want to leave, but she knew it wasn't up to her.

Every morning seemed just a little different here. Yesterday she had awakened still in the Amazon's arms, at the blast of the airhorn. To her horror, the guards wanted one more look at the two women going at it, and Rachel and the Amazon had to do, once more, the bumping and grinding, rubbing breasts, open-mouthed kissing with tongues, and the moaning and sighing as they had the night before. They kept it up for a steady fifteen minutes, Rachel estimated, before the guards had finally laughed and applauded, and at last the two of them were released, with their standard restraints restored, to eat breakfast and, to the immense relief of both of them, pee. Rachel had held it since awakening. She was sure that if she did it in the aisle floor, she and the Amazon would both have to lick it up. That, following Rachel's showering of the Amazon's crotch with piss, would no doubt have ensured that the Amazon would try to kill her the next time they fought.

Today, after breakfast, as Rachel's team had been lining up, Boris had taken Rachel aside, telling her she would be going elsewhere. Rachel had looked helplessly at Anya, who gave her a stricken look, and followed Boris, as he held her leash.

Rachel was thrilled to see that Mandy was alive, unhurt and, in a minimal way, cared for, but she could see her friend had to be miserable. Rachel felt suddenly grateful for what she herself had: light, things to do, a team to be part of, a new friend to talk to.

Leaving the general's office afterward, Rachel hoped the weather was like yesterday. It hadn't been pleasant, but much easier than the first two days. The sun had been out, and the temperature, though cold, seemed to be above freezing. There were still puddles of rainwater, so they did have something to drink. Rachel still wondered what would happen if there was no water to be found outside.

Arriving now at the windowed room, Rachel stopped and moaned aloud. The room was very bright, because there was about two inches of new snow on the ground. And it was still coming down under a dull gray sky, fat flakes of snow falling at a slant in a light wind.

This was going to be a nightmare.

But Rachel was cheered when she saw Anya's face light up when she appeared. I think I can accept spending my life here, thought Rachel, if I can just see that sunburst smile every day, an instant power source for the spirit. Rachel smiled back. Anya was just getting ready to go out. Neither of them spoke until they were close enough to do it softly. While the guards were preoccupied with their beers, Rachel said in a near whisper, before Anya could say anything, "Dobray utra. Good morning, Anya."

Anya beamed at her. "Goood moar-nihng, Retchell."

Rachel just had time to give her a light brush of fingertips on the butt before Anya moved ahead to the door. She saw Anya look back briefly, grinning again.

*   *   *   *   *

Yelena awoke with a start, and a sinking feeling, as if today was her day to be hanged.

Then the realization came flooding in. Oh, no, she thought. Worse than that.

She picked at a light breakfast, and made her way grimly to the general's office. It has to be done, she told herself. There is no acceptable alternative.

At the general's office, she saw that same very tall girl coming out that she had seen in the hallway a couple of days ago. Stunningly pretty, even with that extreme haircut. Yelena wondered whether that was her own style, or if they did that to her here. The girl was shuffling in those same chains as before, naked as Yelena was, pulled around by a leash like an animal by that beefy guard. Yelena couldn't read the girl's expression. She looked to be close to Marya's age, or just a little older. Yelena wondered what she might have done that made her end up here.

In this terrible place.

The general, hearing Yelena announced, called to her from his conference room, behind his office. The doctor was already seated in front of a laptop computer on the table. He stood now and went to close the room's door behind her and, after a nod from the general, locked it. The general's men knew he was not to be disturbed for any reason whatever.

The general gestured to a chair at the table beside the doctor, and Yelena, seeing the chair's features, looked up and glared at the general. "What is this for?"

The doctor spoke up. "My suggestion. It seemed possible that under stress you might have a bad reaction today. I only wished to make sure you damage neither yourself nor your daughter's chances."

Yelena ground her teeth, but knew that today of all days, Marya needed her to do whatever the doctor and the general said must be done.

Yelena sat, and sighed as the doctor fastened the straps around her ankles holding them to the front legs of the chair, and straps around her upper arms just above her elbow, holding them to the arms of the chair. "How am I supposed to hold the script? I need to look at that."

The doctor, strapping her left wrist to the front of the chair arm, said, "That is why I will leave your right hand free. You may hold the page you are looking at in that hand, then discard it on the table when you are finished and reach for another page. You can hold the unread pages in your left. That should work perfectly well."

The doctor then adjusted a pair of headphones over Yelena's head, the pads fitting snugly against her ears. A microphone at the end of a wire projected out in front of Yelena's mouth, coming out of one of the earpieces. The doctor said, "You will be able to hear what is happening in the other room through these. Your own voice will echo in the other room, and I wanted to avoid an unfortunate audio feedback situation. Speak into the microphone, of course." He handed another pair of headphones to the general, sans microphone, and put another on himself.

Yelena blinked at the way the doctor, in his usual way, put mundane technical details in the same category with strapping a woman's arms and legs in a chair.

The doctor rubbed his hands together. He seemed excited, more energetic than usual. Yelena hated him passionately. "Well, everything is ready. The room is prepared, and Marya has just been brought to it. The men have been working quickly at setting her up, as I estimate there is no more than an hour before she wakes up. Do you have any questions on the script, Madame Gerova?" As he had said he would, he now put the loose pages into her left hand.

Yelena sighed. "No, I read over it earlier, and it's all quite clear."

"As I have said, you may refer to it during the exercise. You may paraphrase in any way you want, as long as the basic ideas are all present. I trust you will be able to go through it naturally, rather than as if you were reading something?"

Yelena simply glared at him. On top of everything else, they were going to question her professionalism? "I did have one question on a different subject. Can you assure me, again, that Marya's life is not in danger?"

"All right. Marya's life is not in danger."

Yelena closed her eyes and bared her teeth. "I mean, why is it not in danger?"

"We can stop the process, if necessary, before it comes to that point. The worst that might happen is that Marya could suffer a psychotic break and become catatonic."

Yelena would have jumped out of her chair if she hadn't been strapped in. "What??"

The doctor began, "Catatonia is..."

Yelena spat furiously, "I know what it is!" A person in catatonia was completely separated from the real world, usually frozen into immobility for extended periods of time. The condition might be brought about by stress or fear beyond the levels the person could tolerate. It was a very serious psychotic condition. "What are the chances it will happen?"

The doctor raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Very small, I assure you. I informed the president of the risks. He gave us the authority to go ahead."

Yelena sat angrily fuming, and worked to calm herself. The fact that Dimitri thought it was all right actually reassured her -- not at all because Yelena thought Dimitri wouldn't subject his daughter to anything dangerous. Dimitri wanted Marya's life to be full of suffering. But Dimitri, Yelena was sure, had his heart set on the primary plan of punishment. If he thought this procedure would interfere with that, he wouldn't allow it. Dimitri had apparently been convinced this would work.

Yelena's breathing gradually slowed. She looked at the room's big monitor, and frowned. "That's not her, is it?"

The doctor responded, "Oh, no. Different case. A moment..." He pushed a button.

The spooky green image of a chained, seated girl vanished, replaced with one of Marya, nude of course, standing upright in a room, a staff member standing behind her making some sort of adjustment, apparently just now finishing. The man took one last look over his work and exited the room.

Yelena examined her daughter's image on the screen. Marya's feet were separated by about a half meter on the floor, buried to the ankles under about ten centimeters of sand. Yelena was aware that under the sand, Marya's feet were anchored very firmly to the floor, so that she couldn't lift them. Her arms were raised up over her head, secured at either end of a spreader bar, again about a half-meter wide, that was suspended in its middle from the ceiling. Marya sagged in her restraints, unconscious, her head lolling to the side. At present she had an additional support in the form of a cloth wrapped around her waist, with a cord tied to the back of it running to the ceiling.

"She would find it difficult to breathe if her weight were entirely supported by her arms, spread apart that way," the doctor explained to Yelena. "Unconscious as she is, she might suffocate."

Yelena curled her lip. "Thank you so much for your consideration."

The doctor was sarcasm-blind. "I try to think of everything."

In Marya's mouth, Yelena could see the special gag. She had seen it up close, and heard its purpose explained. It was a ring of metal, about four centimeters in diameter, set upright behind Marya's teeth, holding her mouth wide open, secured by straps around her head. The additional attachment wasn't visible on the monitor: two thin metal rods attached to the lower part of the ring, on either side, projecting horizontally back several centimeters into her mouth, with a cross-piece joining them. Its purpose was to hold her tongue down so that she couldn't use it to block her mouth.

Marya's hands, as if in a fashion statement, were mostly covered by fingerless gloves. The gloves served the same purpose as the handwear that Yelena wore, which contained the button that activated Marya's collar -- Marya's likewise had pushbuttons.

Yelena could also see the room's one other feature: a cubical box dangling about two meters in front of Marya, the box about half a meter on each side, hung by chain from the ceiling at about Marya's eye level. Its contents were hidden by a cloth.

"Once she has awakened and is in possession of her faculties, we can begin." The doctor sat back looking pleased, his arms folded across his chest.

You monster, thought Yelena. She sat and waited.

*   *   *   *   *

Yelena sat staring at the monitor, her mind blank of all thoughts other than concern for Marya. Marya looked so fragile, so vulnerable, her naked body on display. Even when she awoke she would not be able to hide it.

Over her headphones, Yelena heard Marya suddenly groan. Yelena's heart tried to escape her chest. She could barely breathe.

She reminded herself that to Marya, only a few hours had passed since that last argument with her mother about giving the man who had brought their food oral sex -- all of those hours spent blindfolded, chained to the corners of her bed. That had been days ago, but Marya had been unconscious since then.

Marya lifted her head, and swayed as she started working her muscles. She shook her right arm back and forth, making angry noises as she found that her hands were both trapped above her head.

She winced in pain, and looked straight down along her stomach, then twisted around to try to see downward behind her. Yelena knew what she was trying to see.

Marya grunted several times, obviously in growing anger. She strained to lift one foot, then the other out of the sand surrounding them. The bonds holding her feet to the floor were invisible below the sand, but they held very firmly.

She made a whistling teakettle sound of exasperation that sounded almost as it always did when her frustration was boiling over, the gag interfering very little.

The doctor punched a key on his laptop. In the room with Marya, an invisible wire suddenly pulled against a button holding the cloth around her waist that had been supporting her, popping it free. The doctor pushed another key, and the cloth was withdrawn upward towards the ceiling. Marya's legs, now that she was awake, could handle the job of supporting her weight.

Marya watched the cloth pulled away, and made an angry series of twists of her waist and shoulders to try to free herself.

The doctor looked at Yelena. "She is ready now."

Yelena had already started, moments earlier, summoning Bad Mother, to let her take over. Bad Mother, like Marya, was now ready. Yelena glanced at the page held in her right hand, not really needing it at this point.

She spoke clearly, in a voice that sounded pleased with itself. "Darling, can you hear me?"

Marya's whole body jerked in startlement. She looked around for her mother, and saw a small speaker in the wall from which she judged, correctly, that her mother's voice had issued.

The doctor smiled and nodded. There was no need to say "The sound system is working" aloud. It was obvious.

Yelena went on, "Hélène dear, this is something I need to do now, for you. For us."

Marya tensed and made another of those angry sounds. Yelena knew that Marya had quickly come to hate being addressed by that name.

Yelena continued. "There is too much of Marya in you. But I know how to make Marya go away. Then it can just be you and me, Hélène."

When Yelena had complained that the script was nothing but psycho-babble, the doctor had responded, "To some extent, but not entirely. It is directed at a specific goal, that of putting her in an appropriate mental state, within the context of the cover story you have already been using." Yelena had shrugged, not really interested in arguing.

Yelena went on with the script. "I know what Marya is afraid of, Hélène. If she gets scared enough, she will run away from you and leave you alone."

Marya rolled her head, since merely rolling her eyes was not sufficiently dramatic. There was a reason for Marya's gag unrelated to keeping her quiet, but Yelena suspected it was just as well not to have to deal with the angry retorts Marya would respond with if she could speak.

"Hélène, look right in front of you."

Marya clearly understood that her mother was referring to the box dangling in her field of vision. There wasn't really any other object in the room she might have thought she was being told to look at.

The doctor pushed another key on his laptop. The curtain that had surrounded the hanging box was drawn up towards the ceiling, uncovering the transparent sides of the box and revealing its contents.

Snakes. More than two hundred of them, the doctor had informed Yelena. All packed into the box, in one writhing, scaly mass.

It took Marya a moment to work out what she was seeing. Her eyebrows furrowed.

And then she screamed. A long, ear-piercing, pulsating scream.

Marya tried to throw her body backwards, away from the box. Yelena could see the strain in her arms. Marya twisted her body in every way imaginable, working to jerk her arms and legs free.

Yelena said, "Hélène, darling, none of those snakes are poisonous. They're just harmless tree snakes. They like climbing trees. If they were loose right now, they would think you were a tree. They'd climb right up your legs and hang from your arms."

Marya was breathing in and out so rapidly she could have blown up a rubber raft in ten seconds. Her eyes were wide open, and she was shaking her head.

"Some of them are short, and some of them are long. The long ones are a little less than a meter. They can climb up and wrap themselves around your waist. Or circle one of your breasts. They won't slip off. They're very good and holding on. One of them might wrap itself right around your neck. He probably won't choke you, though, if you stay really still."

Marya wasn't quite screaming, but every breath out was accompanied by a high-pitched "Huh" sound. A cascade of urine fell to the sand between her feet.

"There are some little short ones too, about twenty-five centimeters. They couldn't choke you. Those ones like to curl up in warm, wet, dark places.

"Did you figure out what's hurting, yet, down between your legs? What's hurting in your butt? There are two little hollow tubes down there, one to hold your vagina open, and one for your anus. One of the little snakes will think your vagina would make a nice little home, so he'll crawl in and curl right up inside there. And another one will wiggle itself way, way deep in your lower colon.

"And when one of the little ones gets high enough, he'll think your mouth is just the perfect place."

Marya was crying hysterically now, shaking her head violently.

"Hélène, Hélène, listen to me. You can get out of this. I can tell you how. Do you hear me? I want you to be safe, after the snakes scare Marya away. Do you understand?"

Marya seemed to gradually bring her attention into focus. She was still making the "huh" sound, but not crying.

"Do you hear me, Hélène? Do you understand you can get out of this?"

Marya continued staring at the snakes, then after a few seconds convulsively nodded her head, over and over.

"Hélène, first you need to promise me something."

Marya nodded briefly, then stood still. She seemed to be coming to believe she might be safe.

Yelena sighed audibly into the microphone. "Hélène... I want you to be in love with me, the same way I'm in love with you. I want you to want my body just the way I want yours. I want you to want to make love to me any time we're together, just the way I want to make love to you. We'll be one person named Hélène, always loving herself."

Marya's resistance to any suggestion, as long as it could get her away from the snakes, had crumbled. She nodded her head eagerly.

"You understand what I said, don't you? I want you so much, Hélène!"

Marya nodded as if trying to dislodge her head.

"And I want you to want to make all my men happy. They've done so much to help us be together. I want you to be happy to give your body to them, because we both owe them so much. Will you promise to do all of these things, Hélène?"

Without hesitating, her eyes still fixed on the snakes, Marya nodded again.

"Now, I'm going to tell you how to get free. But you need to remember that you just made a promise. If you don't keep your promise, I'll just have to bring you right back here and let the snakes have you. And you won't have a way out, then. There won't be any way to stop them. Do you understand?"

Eyes now so wide open that white showed clearly all around, Marya made another spastic nod.

Yelena paused for several seconds, then said, "But you won't let that happen, will you, Hélène? You won't ever, ever break your promise."

Marya shook her head frantically. Another small stream of urine dropped down between her legs, probably as she visualized having to return here and being helpless to stop the snakes.

"Hélène, look up at your hands."

Marya threw her head back instantly.

"You can see the gloves you're wearing. Each one has a button in the palm, like I have that button for your collar. In your left hand you have a green button, and in your right hand it's red. Do you see those?"

Again, her head bobbed eagerly.

"Now, the green one will save you, but it doesn't work yet. But when it does work, it will help you get out of that room.

"The red button will open the bottom of the box and release the snakes."

The utterly astonished look on Marya's face would have almost been comical in other circumstances. The fingers of her right hand sprang straight outward, as if trying to get as far from the red button as possible.

"Listen to me, Hélène. You need to release the snakes to scare Marya away. She won't be able to stay inside you. You can get her out of the way and be my Hélène, always my Hélène, from now on."

Marya, her eyes fixed on the box, shook her head in tiny movements. Likely she thought too strong a negation would constitute a violation of her promise.

"Hélène: The green button in your left hand will save you, but it won't work until two minutes after you push the red one. You must push the red one first."

Marya was crying again, her eyes squeezed shut. She couldn't bear looking at the snakes anymore.

"Hélène, I'm going to start a clock running now. In thirty minutes, if you don't push the red button, the box will open anyway. And if that happens, if the box opens because time ran out instead of you deciding to push the button, then the green button won't work. If you don't push the red button yourself, I'll think you didn't really mean your promise, that you aren't really in love with me. Then the snakes will have you and you can't stop them. But if you push the red button yourself, Marya will go away, and I know that you, Hélène, you won't let anything stop us from being together."

Marya was crying harder, shaking her head more vigorously.

"Remember, you have to push the red button, Hélène, before the box opens on its own. And if you do, then the green button will save you. But it won't work right away. Not until two minutes after you push the red one." She paused. "The box will open in twenty-nine minutes."

Marya was breathing like a steam locomotive again, wriggling helplessly against all of the bonds holding her. And like the locomotive, she was generating heat. Sweat was streaming from every pore.

Yelena put the page of the script down and gestured frantically at the doctor, moving her hand over the page as if she were writing on it. He understood and handed her a pen. She wrote, "What if she passes out?"

The doctor wrote underneath, "We can put the clock on hold."

Yelena nodded briefly, and watched the screen, starting to wonder whether she would pass out herself. She felt dizzy and weak.

Yelena closed her eyes and worked to hold Bad Mother in place, trying to slow her own heart rate. When she knew she could speak without her voice trembling, she said quietly, "Twenty minutes left, Hélène." There were actually twenty-two, but Yelena wanted to hurry up the decision.

At the sound of her mother calmly calling out the time, Marya screamed. Her crying afterwards sounded as if it might come from a psychiatric ward. Yelena, for the first time since her childhood, started biting her nails.

She had asked the doctor days ago, during early sessions in planning the snake attack, why it was necessary that Marya actually release the snakes. Why wasn't the threat alone frightening enough? The doctor had explained that an unused threat was not sufficient. Marya must have an actual tactile memory of the snakes crawling on her legs. Her conception of the snakes must be real, not theoretical. Why then, Yelena had continued, not simply let the box of snakes fall open and give Marya the two minutes to stop them? The doctor had said that Marya must feel she has some degree of control, this time. She must exercise her will to do the thing she fears the most. Then she will feel in control of her life, and in control of her ability to maintain the promises she had made. And she must be aware that, if she were to break her promises, then she would lose that control and be completely at the mercy of events. And snakes.

Yelena had looked at him dubiously, but at least realized that the doctor believed what he was saying sufficiently firmly that she had no power to change his mind.

She did understand that, after this, Marya would be utterly terrified of the idea of failing to behave as she had said she would. If the doctor's plan would really add even more power to the terror... Well, as long as it works, Yelena thought, that is all that matters.

She looked at the clock. Thirteen minutes. She said, "Ten minutes, Hélène."

On the paper in front of her, she wrote, "We have to get her out of this!!!"

The doctor wrote back, "Stop now, all is lost. She would know all was bluff. President says let snakes cover her for as long as practical. Faint, revive, snakes still there. I think one hour. Then give her assassin treatment from now on."

Tears streamed from Yelena's eyes. She couldn't stop reading the words: All is lost. All is lost.

The doctor wrote again. "I have adjusted time to your count."

Yelena snarled and tried to spring up from the chair, wanting to scratch his eyes out. She struggled with the straps. He obviously known she would react this way at some point. He had known the straps would be needed.

I was just trying to increase her motivation to save herself! Yelena wailed internally. It's not working, and now he's taken time away from her that she should have had!

Marya was clearly in full-blown panic. She had been unable to do what she must, to climb the barrier of exposing herself to her most mortal terror, and now she looked as though she didn't even remember what she needed to do. Her struggles were entirely random, her wailing a mixture of screaming and crying.

Yelena felt sure that if she were to address Marya by her true name, she could get Marya's attention, break the cycle of panic. But to call her Marya would be fatal to the illusion Yelena had worked so hard to weave for her. The struggle to save Marya from the assassin's fate would be ended. It might save Marya for the moment, but would give her over to a world of endless agony.

Yelena was about to say "Five minutes," the time remaining by the doctor's new count, but stopped herself. If I just say it in that detached, mechanical way I've been using for the countdown, Marya won't even hear me.

Yelena closed her eyes for a moment. She had to push Bad Mother down into a dungeon of her mind now.

She spoke with all the sincere love she felt for her daughter, rather than the voice dripping with lust that represented Hélène, the girl who had dreamed of making love with herself.

"Darling, you still have five minutes. I know you can do it. Push the red button now."

On the screen Marya stopped struggling, closed her eyes, and worked to catch her breath. She looked up at her hand above her. Yelena could see the fingers of Marya's right hand curl inward.

With a sharp click, the bottom of the snake box swung down, and the sound of a dull thump followed: two hundred snakes hitting the surface of the sand below.

Released from rectangular confinement, the uppermost snakes slid down across their lower brothers, spreading out in area on the sand. The nearest ones to Marya were just a half-meter away.

Marya screamed again, and kept screaming, her body in convulsions of effort to free herself.

Yelena spoke in that same soothing, loving voice. "Remember, dear, in two minutes the..." She stopped, and wrote on the paper, "Why isn't my voice echoing?"

The doctor spoke aloud. "I've turned off the audio feed into her room. She needs to do the next step on her own."

Yelena glared at him, and thought furiously: If I'd known you could turn the sound off from your computer, you ass, we could have had longer discussions in here! She shouted, "Turn it back on! I need to help her!"

The doctor shook his head. "It is absolutely crucial that Marya do this herself. She has to start identifying herself as Hélène. Based on what you said to her earlier, she will imagine that Marya is gone, and that being Hélène will save her from snakes. It won't work for her to think you saved her. She would modify her behavior in any case, to avoid being attacked once more by snakes with no way to escape it. But that has to be coupled with a terror of not being Hélène."

Yelena looked at the screen, and a wail, at much lower volume than Marya's but of a similar quality, began in the back of her throat.

The nearest snakes had reached Marya's ankle; one was even already up halfway up her lower leg, climbing while circling her leg.

Yelena had been told the reason for the sand: besides the snakes finding it an agreeable surface, surrounding Marya's feet with it would make it impossible for her to step on any of them. Binding her feet immovably to the floor also prevented her from shaking the snakes off as they began climbing. There was nothing at all Marya could do to defend herself, other than push the green button.

The doctor pressed a key on his laptop. "The green button is activated now."

Yelena watched the screen, almost hyperventilating. She had not seen Marya give any attention to her left hand. Was it possible she had forgotten? Yelena wondered desperately. She could save herself now, this second, with a single finger! "Let me tell her, let me remind her, please, please! She's not remembering what she has to do!"

Marya was screaming continuously now, barely pausing long enough to draw breaths. Several snakes, of various sizes, were curled around her thigh now, with several dozen almost completely hiding her lower legs in a wriggling, scaly mass. One of the smaller snakes on her inner thigh, Yelena thought, was exactly in position to see the tube holding Marya's labia open, an irresistible invitation to a snug, cozy home. Yelena heard the doctor say, as if distantly through a heavy fog, "We must not interfere at this point."

If anything happens to her, thought Yelena, all restraints on my behavior are gone. I will kill the doctor, and I will kill the general. Right here, right now. I will act calm as they release these straps. And then I will move. They won't be expecting anything.

Marya, in mid-scream, suddenly stopped, her head jerking back, her eyes looking upward. It came back to her!! Yelena exulted. Marya convulsively curled the fingers of her left hand into a fist.

Several jets of white mist spewed out of tubes in the ceiling, spreading out into a fog surrounding Marya. Marya's mouth opened in surprise. Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp.

The snakes hugging her legs had begun falling to the sand, as two men, in gas masks, burst through the door, one clearing the snakes away from around Marya, the other supporting her weight at the waist while he reached up to unlock the cuffs.

Yelena fainted.



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