Chapter 7 Part 2

Suddenly, a thin white line of light appeared on the perfectly black mirrored surface. The little line grew larger and began to reveal a door being opened. Pretty soon, a figure clad in a black suit was silhouetted by the white light. Judging from the curves he could discern, the figure was female. Sal shifted internally. If his his interrogator was female, he had to guard against thinking of her as nurturing or as being the weaker sex. When a female interrogator appeared, whether she knew it or not, her methods would tend to be more emotional and play on deep-seated evolutionary roles that had served humans well over the millenniums. If she weaponized her sexuality, that could prove to be even more disastrous. These were only problems, though, if you did not know about them in advance. Simpy by having the thought that the person coming in was not and could not be your friend, nor ere they interested in you for any reason other than information, it was possible to keep matters in their proper perspectives. The reason so many marriages lasted so long and ended so abruptly was because sometimes the interrogation sequence was slower. Not all marriages were interrogations sequences, of course, but one would be a fool to believe that most of them were about love. Marriage allowed the interrogator to slide the knife in slowly, and only because the person being interrogated allowed their minds to be clouded by love. Functionally, however, every marriage done for credits, or lust, or children, or anything designed to manipulate another person were interrogations. If a couple had unconsciously entered into such an arrangement, they might get lucky and love possibly could overcome the interrogation. Otherwise, the interrogation would last as long as one person could play interrogator and derive benefit, and the other person was fine being interrogated. marriage forgot the fundamental role of interrogation, the person coming in was not and could not be your friend.

Sal observed the figure as she entered the room. She was a medium-height blonde with shoulder length hair. She had a way of moving through the room that exuded femininity. The side-ways movement of her hips was slight, but deliberate. Though she was wearing a suit, she had taken careful pains to be sure that the suit accentuated the right curves. Something told Sal this woman was accustomed to receiving desire from men. Instead of rejecting it, she had incorporated it into her being to get what she wanted. Her entire ensemble was designed to evoke desire, and then to control that desire to achieve her ends. If she also proved to be smart, and odds are she probably was, then this lady would be no end of dangerous.

As she drew nearer, Sal could see her features. As he expected, her face had delicate lines. Her nose was slight--her lips soft and inviting. What caught him off guard, though, was her eyes. Usually women who use others to achieve their ends have a certain hardness out of their gaze. This woman, though, had very bright blue eyes that had a bit of sparkle to them. Either this woman was very, very good at what she did, or she wasn't what she appeared to be.

"Mr. Grimone, I trust you have found your accommodations here comfortable?" she asked as she raised the inflection of her voice at the end of the query.

Sal sat closed-mouthed. He wondered why it was when people started interrogating others, they always had to start with a sarcastic quip about how comfortable things must be. Probably, it was designed to provoke a response, since people were eager to correct an untruth in most instances. Sal was an expert deceiver, though, and he knew that the most unsuccessful deception was an ignored one.

"Aww, not in a talking mood?" she purred diplomatically. "How about we get those restraints off of you. I probably wouldn't be much for conversation in them either."

Sal rubbed at his wrists and ankles where the restraints had been. He had noticed that the sound dampening appeared to be off since he could hear the woman so clearly. Maybe he could pop his interface up and initiate slip stream travel out of here.

"I know what you are thinking, Mr. Grimone, and I wouldn't advise it. Believe it or not, you are more of a guest here, although if you were to do something rash that status might change into something less favorable. You probably believe you are in danger, but so long as you do nothing completely stupid I can assure you you are not."

Sal thought inwardly to himself. Hearing that you are safe is of course what most people in a situation like this would want to hear. He refused to believe he was safe, but he resolved to play along for the time being to see where the road ahead bent.

"You guys have a funny way of treating guests," said Sal. "We could start by introducing ourselves since I have no idea who you are or where I am."

"Well, Mr. Grimone, I think we need to establish a basis for trust. So, I am going to answer one of your questions, and then you can answer one of mine. You are currently in a building owned by the Telray syndicate."

Sal blanched a little at hearing his suspicion confirmed.

"Now," asked the woman, "How is it that you failed in your task to place a simple terrain deception AND get kidnapped to boot?"

"I'm glad to hear you admit I am in fact kidnapped," said Sal.

The woman furrowed her brow slightly. "I did not kidnap you, Mr. Grimone. Do i look like the sort of woman who is interested in underworld activities?"

"No," said Sal. "You look like the kind of woman is accustomed to getting what she wants."

The woman bit her bottom lip and a small smile crossed her face. "I suppose I am," she said. "You still haven't answered my question."

"I don't know why the hack didn't work. It should have. I don't know how the man in questioned managed to sneak up on me either. He shouldn't have been able to. The only thing I can figure is something is fundamentally different about that area of the holonosphere. I might be able to figure it out with enough time, provided no one tries to kill me or torture me."

Light musical laughter erupted from the woman. "Really, you think you are that important that someone wants to kill or torture you because you failed at a terrain deception? I think your sense of importance might be a tad inflated."

Sal looked down at the floor. "I was evidently important enough to kidnap," he growled.

"This is so," said the woman, "but not because you failed. Rather what is desired instead is to provide you with an opportunity."

"You've got a hell of a way of doing it," replied Sal.

"I think you have forgotten to ask me a question since you answered mine," said the woman chidingly. 

"Fine. Who the fuck are you?", retorted Sal.

The blond extended her hand. "My name is Felicita Pragma--chief researcher of Quantum Bayesian Algorithms--Agron Corp division."

Sal suddenly sat straight in his chair. What would an Agron Corp chief researcher possibly be doing with a shady underworld organization like Telray? Whatever Sal had stumbled into, he realized the intensity of it had just grown exponentially.