…forward onto his books, they won’t say them… she’s read them all… he’s trying to skirt the issue… see if I’ll fall for it… knows about my report… Dodger’s role… nonchalant…
“Not really, I dabble a bit, but I’ve never been too interested in it. I don’t see the reason for it when there are the Requirements and books aren’t listed on them.”
“Do you meet your Requirements?”
“Every month, just like anyone else.”
“What was the last movie you saw?”
Patriotic… good citizen…
“Alchemy, with Doug McCabe and Victoria Wexler.”
“What was it about?”
…knows the answer… he saw it twice…
“Two citizens who fail at their goals and lose everything, but later learn to work within the system and achieve great success.”
“A wonderful movie, I believe it will win several awards this fall, don’t you?”
“I liked it very much.”
…switching tactics, cooperation… we’re all on the same team, just different coaches… he’s believed me… partner will concur… no involuntary responses suggesting otherwise…
“Would you do us a favor, Captain? Would you find out for us what Ms. Greene enjoys? According to your reports, she does not see very many movies, nor does she watch the preset quota of sites or purchase music very often. So, what does she do with her time? An idle mind is a dangerous mind, as Doukhobor once said.”
“She does read, I’ve observed that, but I’ll pay special attention to the subject from now on.”
…should have thought of that nod… good… they took bait… he’s sure of me… still intent on interrogating her… not right yet…
“Agreed, please let us know if Section 9 can assist you in any way. We are at your beck and call.”
…innocent citizen’s concern… a little worried about this…
“May I ask a question, Commander?”
“Of course.”
…shall we say ‘group’, ‘organization’, he believes… completely unknowing…
“This group you spoke of, the Players, are they dangerous?”
“Although they appear to be quite benign on paper, what many officials do not realize is how these kinds of acts and ideas trickle down the chain and infect the innocent. We are handling them, I assure you.”
… relieved, understanding, agreement… they’ll leave with nothing… stand up guy that captain… real soldier of the cause… she’s safe… no plans… for now…
* * *
A lesser person may be humiliated, unsure, self-conscious. It is only a tool. Subtle reflexes of involuntary muscles studied for responses, she is a poker player, a con artist, she is certain of what she says and how she moves, she does not think about them. He will know. She is as she was as a child, only aware of the response her body makes. He is no different, the gown will block his other motives; he will forget her as an adversary.
The driver that takes her to him is her control subject; he cannot help but steal glances as she removes her coat. He will see her first like this. He will be on guard and rendered defenseless. She adjusts the lace apron. The driver smiles a micro-emotion. She stares down at her lap, where a bouquet of embroidered roses faintly covers the most elicit point. Two others, the size of quarters, make the bodice she is pouring out of slightly less obscene.
The evening had settled across the city when the car stopped in front of the hotel. He was standing by the two electric doors, his coat over one arm, his eyes reflexively searching, his stiff posture tightened, his face rigid and concerned. She orchestrates the debut as she had planned. The driver opens the back door directly behind his seat and Elisa slides out of the car, avoids fixing her dress, which clings to her body, and turns so that she tosses her hair. He had seen her as soon as she pulled up to the curb, he did not smile, he watched like a scientist, until she smiled to him and waved a bare arm in the air. He returns the smile with a faint movement of his upper lip; she is still protected by the car.
The driver steps back inside and Elisa moves away from it, her hands busy with a small black purse. He maintains his amiable grin as she appears from behind the metal cabin, the creases in his lips relax, the lower jaw descends softly, the wrinkles gathered around his eyes recede and the upper eyelid rises as two faint lines appear on his brow.
She appears amused, walking the few short paces towards him. “Do you like it? I got it for you.”
He has already failed. She has forced the truth out of him. He has drawn his cheeks together and adjusted the saliva in his mouth. He blinks quickly and his pupils roam over her. Vincent wets his lips, involuntarily. “Yes.”
“Good.” She stands beside him, her feet together, both arms at her sides, coming together to hold her purse near her waist. She rocks effortlessly on her heals, waiting for him to speak. She has not changed her expression since he first saw her.
“Where… where did you get it?” He looks into her eyes for the first time, she turns her head as if to stare down the street. The valet and the doorman are both looking at her. He has not seen the back of the dress yet.
“Its unimportant. Is this where the party is?” She shifts her weight, letting one hand release the purse.
“Yes.” He sees the other men looking at her. She doesn’t seem uncomfortable; she is a silhouette below the lace. He can see her navel, the indication of her abdomen, the falcate shadows of her breasts. Her legs are naked, her chest, shoulders and arms, interrupted only by two thin straps of rose vines. She is nude underneath. The doorman and the valet know it. The dress is an illusion.
“Shall we go in?” She takes two steps, followed by three sets of eyes. He watches her move towards the electric doors, her entire bare back, the small ripples of her rib cage, the crescent demarcation of the beginning of a breast as she raises her arm, the sloping line of her spine, the heart-shaped muscles and the beginning of the curves darkened by the lace, a slit where the two sides of the dress come together, the opening of the back of her legs, her inner thighs… “Are you coming?”
“Yes, of course.” He caught up with her, placed the palm of his hand between her two shoulder blades and returned her smile.
The captain accompanies her down the hall, listening as her heals click against the marble floor, seeing other men, departing from the lavatory or stepping out for fresh air, notice her, their eyes intent upon her. She does not pay attention, or doesn’t appear to, and they make their entrance into the banquet room.
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid this is going to be a bit boring for you,” he said as they stop a few steps inside, gazing out over the crowd of people, the round tables covered in crisp, white cloth, the wait staff scurrying around with plates and drinks, the banner over the stage: PE & PSE A.
“Don’t worry about me, with a few drinks I can find anything amusing,” She held onto his arm and walked beside him towards an open table. She continued to smile, as if greeting the entire room of strangers. She ignored all the greedy eyes.
“All right, you sit here and I’ll go grab us those drinks.” He pulled the chair out for her and she slid into it, placed her purse on the table and grinned as he turned back towards her. By the second time he turned around, about half way to the refreshments, she had three men standing over her and a fourth sitting in a chair beside her. She was talking to them, they were laughing at something she said. They were thinking of her nude, they were thinking of her in their bed, they were thinking about her lips, her skin, her breasts. She was aware of the stolen looks; she did not care.