THE ADJUSTERS

Book V

Intermezzi

52

Intermezzo: Daniel Malcolm

Daniel Malcolm sat on the floor of his apartment, his back against the couch, twirling a thumb drive between his fingers. On the floor before him, his laptop stood open, awaiting the drive. The laptop was playing music, but only his subconscious registered it.

He twirled the thumb drive, the activity requiring just enough concentration to keep him from thinking too hard.

On the wall to his right, Jenn looked out over her shoulder from the poster-sized picture he hung there as constant reminder. Her smile was joyous, free, unburdened. She was happiness itself. The one memory of her he cherished and wished he could take to his grave unsullied by any other.

But then there was the thumb drive.

On that thumb drive could be found the videos that that fucker Biff had made of Jenn when he had his ugly paws on her, when he had control of her, when he twisted her mind around to turn her into his sex doll, his sex slave, his thing. Videos he had made to send to Daniel, to bait him, torture him, hurt him. Videos that thankfully Daniel had never received, and that he had never watched.

The one video he had seen, the one video that Biff had sent on a DVD soon after first abducting Jenn, the one video that had unravelled everything at Darnell University, the one video that led to the death of his friend Radhu, to the fire that destroyed the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity house killing everyone inside including Biff, to the disappearance of Jenn, to Daniel joining ADCorp at the behest of a private investigator called Sam O’Neill who volunteered to search for Jenn in exchange for Daniel spying on ADCorp looking for a group O’Neill had called The Adjusters—that one video had been terrible enough.

And he held in his hand a thumb drive full of the other videos Biff made with Jenn.

He did not want to see them. He already knew what he would find on them anyway. More of the same: Biff using and abusing Jenn in whatever way the bastard wanted, over and over again, making her like it, love it, no matter how humiliating and demeaning it might be.

He did not want to see them, but he also felt he had to confront them. If what Biff had told him before dying was true, and reports from O’Neill suggested that indeed he had been, Jenn right now was out there, out of her mind with unassuageable lust for a man that no longer existed. (If she’s even still alive, he thought, pushing the idea far from his mind as soon as it came up.) And if he did not want to just freeze when he finally found her while she’s acting like a sexual maniac, he had to train himself to see her as she was now, to understand her, accept her.

He did not look forward to it, because it would be painful. Impossibly painful. But pain was all that he deserved at this point. Because everything was his fault. Biff taking Jenn and fucking her up was his fault. Jenn being lost out there in the world and doing Lord knew what was all his fault. Pain was the first step toward expiation.

He fingered the engagement ring dangling from a small chain he kept around his neck—Jenn’s engagement ring, the one he had given her in the past year, the one she had returned to him because Biff thought it would be a kick. Just one more way to toy with him: Look, boy, I stole your fiancée. Here’s something to remind you of her while I fuck her six ways from Sunday.

He didn’t realize he was squeezing the thumb drive until his palm started to hurt.

Impressive how much hold Biff still had even after so many months. Even after seeing the big guy’s broken body sprawled on the ground in an old smuggler’s tunnel underneath the fraternity house. Even after leaving him to die as the fraternity house burned in the night.

Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he reached over to the laptop.

A knock on the door made him jump so hard that the thumb drive flew from his fingers and slid across the floor.

Saved by the bell.

He did not even bother looking through the people. It could only be one person at the door, since after only a few months in Baltimore, he knew exactly one person, if one did not count Eve Shawbank and Armand Brisecoeur at ADCorp and his colleagues in the training program. And none of them made house calls.

Calypso shot him a bright smile and handed him a small package. “It was left downstairs, in the reception area. Figured I’d bring it up and check up on you.”

“Thanks. Has it really been that long?”

“Two weeks. We watched Night of the Living Dead.”

“Right…” He took the package. It was addressed to him. No return address, but the postmark was from DC. “Well, would you like to come in?”

“Of course.” She walked in, and Daniel had to fight back the urge to ogle. She was tall and slim and her body was nearly perfect. That she wore an almost obscene pair of jeans shorts and a tank top did not help matters at all. Her legs were long and looked so smooth it made him realize how long it had been since he had had female contact.

She bent down to pick up the thumb drive. “I… think you dropped this.”

“Thanks.” He felt her hand linger in his when he reached for the drive, and their eyes met. He smiled nervously.

He had met Calypso when she moved into the building two months prior, and the beautiful actress charmed him instantly with her warmth and her friendliness. She reminded him of Jenn so much, in both body and personality, that when he closed his eyes he could almost believe Jenn was right there with him, something that made him feel guilty like nothing else could when he thought about it.

They hung out regularly, going out a couple of times of week to eat or catching a movie together; Calypso was fascinated with horror and B movies, a drive Daniel was happy to indulge. She was flirty, open, and did not seem afraid of anything. Daniel guessed that were he to make a move, she would not oppose it, but she made no move herself. She knew about Jenn—he had talked about her one long evening where Daniel, despite his best attempts, could not help open up to her, though he had simply said that Jenn had had doubts about their marriage and was searching for herself rather than delve into the events at Darnell and Jenn’s flight—and that knowledge might have had something to do with her reticence. She probably also considered him damaged goods.

Which suited Daniel fine, because the last thing he needed was a girlfriend. A friend was good. A friend with benefits, like Cindy, was workable. But Cindy was special. And she knew about everything that had happened. She was also studying in California right now, and would not have the opportunity to travel until Thanksgiving break.

“Everything okay?” Calypso asked, an eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“You zoned out there for a sec.”

“Sorry. Just… sorry.” He let out a laugh, ran his hand through his hair, and shrugged, all at the same time. “It’s one of those days.”

“So what were you up to?” she asked, looking around the bare apartment, eyeing the laptop on the floor. Daniel had not added any furniture beyond the couch and side table that came with the semi-furnished lodging, and the only thing on the walls was Jenn’s picture. Calypso paused for a second, looking at the laptop again, listening to the song playing, her head cocked. She looked like she wanted to say something, but elected not to.

“Nothing much,” he said finally.

“Daniel, you’re gonna go crazy if you don’t get some fresh air, you know that.”

“I know, I know.” He stared at the package.

“What is it?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, open it.”

He ripped off the tape. Inside the mailing box was an envelope and another packages. The envelope held a single sheet of typewritten text.

Open the package outside. Make sure no one is around.

He frowned. This was the sort of thing that O’Neill would do.

Calypso was staring at him, a question in her eyes, a smile on her lips. She looked heart-achingly beautiful. Behind her, Jenn was looking at him over her shoulder, and he could not tell whether she was encouraging or disapproving.

“You know what,” he said, “you’re absolutely right. I need some fresh air.”

“Right now?”

“Sure.”

“Aren’t you going to open—”

“I’ll take care of it outside. Come on,” he said. “Tell me about the rehearsals.”

Calypso grinned as she followed him out, regaling him with the latest intricate details of production. After auditioning far and wide, she had finally landed the role of Rumpleteazer in a local production of Cats. She had even insisted on modeling her costume for Daniel, a tight body stocking that hugged her body and left very little of her shape to the imagination. But beyond the fact that it afforded her a paycheck, she found every detail of the production, her first off-Broadway serious role, a source of endless fascination. She had dreams of mounting her own productions one day, she had told him, already aiming at being more than an actress, and she sucked up everything around her like a sponge. Beautiful, warm, and smart. Like Jenn, came the nagging voice inside that drove a spike through his heart.

He put on a brave face, though, and led her to the outside terrace of the building, a large area that housed a garden, a playground for children, and some trees and benches on which they sat. Calypso talked, and Daniel listened—as had become their habit.

After an hour, when the conversation had gone through everything including the gossip of the various love and hate affairs among her theater company—which made high school sound like a quiet and emotionless monastery, Calypso looked down at her phone and nodded.

“All right, I have to go and get ready. We have an extra rehearsal tonight to make up for the one we missed early in the week. Are you, huh, opening it?”

She nodded towards the package, sitting on the bench next to Daniel.

“I’ll wait till you’re gone. Privacy, you know.”

“In case it’s from a secret admirer, huh?” She winked in a conspiratorial way.

“Something like that,” he grinned back.

“Aren’t you worried I might get jealous?”

“Why would you be?”

“Maybe I want to keep you all to myself?” She had a smile on her face that suggested that she was kidding, but Daniel, who had become attuned to body language—part of the intensive training he received over the summer and was continuing to receive at ADCorp—could see that there was a bit of a nervousness behind it.

“What makes you think you don’t already?”

Calypso opened her mouth, and Daniel almost laughed at the sudden blush that spread across her cheeks. She hid it by standing up and needlessly smoothing down her tank top. “You’re a pest, Daniel Malcolm, you know that?”

“It’s been said. Thanks for dropping by, Cal. You were right. It did me good.”

“Glad to hear. I’ll catch you later, okay?”

She turned to go, and Daniel picked up the package.

“Huh, Daniel?” Calypso said, turning back toward him. “I’m throwing a small party tomorrow night—the folks from the company, a few friends, and, well, I know you’re not big on social stuff, but if you wanted to drop by, I wouldn’t slam the door in your face.”

“Tomorrow night? Maybe. I’ll think about it?”

“Fair enough. I think you’d like them. Well,” she made a face, “most of them. Anyway: nine o’clock, my place.” She nodded before leaving.

He returned his attention to the package on his lap. Inside, he found a black cell phone, one of those old ones that one had to flip open to use. There was no message to accompany it.

He turned it on, and it connected to the network. He thumbed through the old-style menu, but the phone was empty. No contacts.

When the cell phone rang, he jumped for the second time in so many hours.

The number was not known, and did not display.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Mister Malcolm?”

“Who’s this?”

“A friend.”

“Is that why you’re giving a cell phone? Because you’re a friend?”

“I’m giving you a cell phone because we need to talk and your apartment is bugged.”

O’Neill had warned him that he might be under surveillance, one reason why he only video-chatted with Cindy using codes and why O’Neill never came to the apartment, but hearing it said like that sent a chill down his spine.

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because it’s the truth. But you have a more pressing problem, Mister Malcolm.”

Who was this man? The voice did not ring a bell, and in any event sounded like it was modified by one of those voice modulation gadgets used for anonymous interviews on television.

“You are going to be tested,” continued the voice. “By ADCorp. And it is—”

“How do you know about ADCorp?”

“And it is vital that you pass that test,” continued the voice, disregarding the interruption, “if you want to ever see your fiancée again.”

Daniel stiffened at the mention of Jenn. “How do you know Jenn? Where is she? What have you done with her?”

“I haven’t done anything to her, Mister Malcolm. I don’t have her. But I know you are looking for her, and if you want a chance to be reunited, you will need to survive, and if you want to survive, you will need to pass the test.”

“So what’s the test?”

“I cannot tell you. But it will involve a woman in your entourage, it will involve putting you in a position to take advantage of that woman, and it will require you to act unlike you would naturally act, I’m afraid. You will have to act rather like those frat boys that you clashed with back at Darnell University. But be discreet. You don’t want to make a scene.”

“You’re not making much sense.”

“Everything makes sense, when you put it in the right context. Just remember what I said. You must pass the test. The consequences of failure would be… unfortunate.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Not a threat. Just an observation. Take care, Mister Malcolm, I will call again.”

“Wait! Who are you?”

But the connection had shut down. Daniel stared at the phone, not knowing what to think. He hit redial, but the phone complained that it did not have a number for the last connection.

* * *

Daniel was tensed as he knocked on Calypso’s apartment door. He could hear the sounds of a party inside, and knocked harder.

He had spent the previous night thinking about the phone call, and everything else that had happened to him in the past year. He had sent a message to O’Neill hoping to talk to the private investigator, but there was no immediate response—not a surprise, since O’Neill tended to disappear for days, sometimes weeks at a time. He was still tracking down Jenn, along with his usual work.

Daniel’s intuition—the one that Shawbank and his trainers at ADCorp insisted he should hone because it was his one edge—was telling him that the caller had been genuine. Partly, it was because it fit well with the ADCorp culture he had come to know. The company had layers of secrets; he did know much beyond his immediate sphere of responsibilities. Information was imparted only after training and after successful completion of various assessments. He was being evaluated, and it made sense that some of those evaluations would occur without his knowledge.

His mystery caller told him the test would involve a woman of his entourage. One did not have to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce who that woman was.

The door opened. “Daniel! You came!” Calypso stepped out and hugged him, hard. She was warm, very warm and she pressed into him and he was instantly aware of every single curve of her body against his. This is a mistake, was his first thought.

The sound and heat of the party carried through the door—some random modern hip-hop was playing, accompanying the hum and buzz of conversation. This building has amazing sound insulation, was his second thought.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he said into Calypso neck, as she was not letting him go. She hung on to him, and he could not help but smell her, a mix of sweat and perfume—sweet and fruity—and not a little bit of alcohol.

She pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. Her lips were too red, and her mascara made her eyelashes stand out and made her eyes large and bewitching.

Daniel wondered for a second whether she would kiss him. Was that the test? Was he supposed to let Calypso seduce him?

But she did not kiss him. She stepped back, blinked coquettishly, and with a wide grin that made her achingly beautiful, she spread her arms.

Daniel let out a laugh as he obliged her, and looked at her.

She gave him license to stare—practically begged him to—and stare he did. Calypso wore a tight dark blue dress that hugged her upper body like a second skin. The dress had no cleavage, but did not need any, for it hugged and highlighted her breasts so much that it called attention to them without any outside help. The skirt flared at the hips down to mid-thigh, exposing her long dancer’s leg sheathed in a dark nylon. At her feet, she wore boots; dancers did not wear heels, she had told him. She looked like she should have been out clubbing.

“You look fantastic, Cal.” Daniel let a whisper of admiration seep into his voice. Mostly because it was what Calypso was expecting, and her grin told him that he had guessed right. It was also not a lie.

“Of course she looks fantastic! She’s a fox!” The voice came from behind Calypso, and a tall lean man wearing a red silk shirt open to the middle of his chest and a pair of tight leather pants appeared in the door, giving Daniel a quick up and down glance. He slipped an arm around Calypso’s waist and pulled her to him, in a gesture that could not be mistaken for anything but a proprietary one.

Which would have worked perfectly had Calypso not pushed the man away, though she kept her smile. “Frank! Come on, behave! Daniel, this is Frank, from the company. He’s Mungojerrie. Frank, this is Daniel, my cool mysterious new friend.” She leaned over, and whispered loudly to Frank. “I think he’s a secret agent.” Daniel wondered how much alcohol she had had already.

Frank extended a hand, which Daniel grasped. He expected a domination game, and was not disappointed. Frank’s grip was hard, and so were his eyes. She’s mine, was the clear message.

Daniel was tempted to lift an eyebrow and respond “Seriously?” but he nipped it in the bud. If the man wanted to get into a pissing contest, that was his prerogative. Daniel had no interest.

“Come on,” Calypso said, grasping Daniel’s arm. “I’ll introduce you around.” She pulled Daniel into her apartment.

Daniel could feel Frank’s eyes on him, and wondered just what he had gotten himself into.

* * *

Nearly three dozen partygoers crowded the large apartment, filling in kitchen, dining room, and living room. Some were hanging out on the balcony. All were from the company, most of them actors in the play, although a few stagehands and musicians were mixed in, just to keep Daniel on his toes.

There was little difficulty in recognizing the actors, though. Since the play was musical and most of the numbers were dance numbers, all the actors were long and lean and strong. Their conversation, unfortunately, did not match their physical beauty. They tended to discourse about their training regimen, their dance moves, and the doors that their parts would open up for their career; the conversation rarely strayed far from the play.

The musicians were a bit more conducive to conversation, and Daniel spent much of his time on the floor next to a couch speaking to Pina, a violinist. Slightly older than he was, she was quiet and good-looking in a classical sort of way, but became animated as soon as the topic of music came up: every kind of music, from classical to heavy metal, seemed to interest her, and she and Daniel shared a long analysis of the parallels between the sonata form and modern pop-rock song structure. Daniel, much to his surprise, felt himself relax. Not that he particularly cared about music; he liked to listen to it, and he had learned to strum a guitar back in middle school because it was a sure fire way to interest the girls, but the conversational topic was so completely divorced from what had been on his mind in the long months since the events at Darnell and his starting up at ADCorp that it felt like a breath of fresh air.

In the back of his mind, he wondered whether maybe Pina—her full name was Guiseppina, but she shortened it because nobody quite knew how to spell it and it was simpler to just go with the name that everyone in her own family had been calling her since she was born—might not be the the test that his mystery caller had warned him about. If Pina was his test, was he passing it, or was he fumbling? Was he supposed to take advantage of her, and if so, how?

If Pina noticed his distraction, she did not let it on. She was telling him about the history of the violin and its relationship with its ancestor the Byzantine lira and the arabic rebab, the topic of her thesis at the conservatory where she had studied. She reminded him of Jenn discussing her literary courses and readings—everything reminded him of her lately.

Once in a while, he glanced across the room at Calypso, who was doing the social butterfly thing and went from group to group, a tall glass of something foamy in her hand. She always seemed to know when Daniel was looking at her, and she always caught his eyes and held them, a smile on her face. Frank spent the greater part of the evening buzzing around her, trying to get close and getting rebuffed most of the time—although in the typically friendly way Calypso had, with a smile and a nudge—especially when he tried to run his hands beneath her dress.

Daniel’s instincts were to sit up and intervene. Too much of it reminded him of Biff and his friends’ antics with women back at Darnell, and just like anything that involved Biff, it made him lose his head a little bit. That Pina did notice, and she followed his glance and nodded as if she knew something Daniel did not.

“Frank has been trying to get into her pants for the past two weeks,” she said, in her quiet voice. Daniel realized he must have made a face, because Pina laughed and it sounded like water sparkling. “What? It’s not because I look like a proper young lady that I don’t get what’s going on, or that I don’t sometimes wish…” She never finished her sentence, sighing slightly as she looked at Calypso playfully reject another of Frank’s advances. Daniel did not know how to interpret her expression.

“He gets a little aggressive when he drinks,” she said, as she downed some more of her own wine. “And he likes his girls to put up a little fight.” When she realized what he had said, she blushed.

“So you and he…”

She blushed again, and it did wonders on her pale skin. “As I said, I may look proper, but—”

Daniel raised his hand to stop her. “No harm done. Fun is fun. God knows I’ve had my share of weird relationships.” And still do, he thought, an image of Cindy flashing in his mind.

Pina continued. “He just swooped in and flirted with me after rehearsal one night and I just dropped my panties. I hadn’t had a good banging for so long that—”

And she blushed again when she realized what she was saying and Daniel had to grin. “So, the wine’s good?”

She grinned right back at him, and Daniel in a flash could see that underneath the conservative exterior passion bubbled. The image of her and Frank locked in a tight embrace came unbidden to his mind. More likely, he reflected, looking back at Frank who had gone back to pressing himself against Calypso’s back, he took her from behind, and the picture of Pina on all four getting rammed from behind was a bit too easy to imagine for his taste.

“I give her another week,” Pina said.

“Another week for what?”

She gave the couple one last look before looking back at Daniel. “Before she gives in. Frank can be very… persistent.”

Daniel did not know how to answer; he did not even know how to feel. Is THAT the test? he wondered. Everything had become so complicated, so difficult, ever since Biff entered his life. Biff. Biff and Jenn. That of course had been the vibes he had been getting from Frank the whole evening. Was Frank another Biff? What did that even mean?

He frowned as he turned to Calypso, who had moved on to another friend and was laughing with her, while Frank leered a few paces behind talking to another dancer. Calypso glanced at Daniel and winked at him, and Daniel smiled back, all the while trying to understand, trying to see what was going on. Think, Daniel. Maybe none of this is an accident.

“She likes you,” said Pina, who had been observing him the whole time.

“Why do you say that?”

“Why do you think I give it a week for Frank to get between her legs? She’s saving herself for you. Funny thing is,” she shrugged, but Daniel could see a shiver of some sort run through her, “it probably just makes Frank hotter for her.”

He stared at Pina silently for several seconds, trying to quiet the rising anger. He had never been prone to violent emotional outbursts, until this past year. He was bottling up too much inside, he knew that. It was not healthy.

“Sorry,” she said, raising her glass. “I get all talky when I drink too much.” Her eyes wandered back to Frank, with a bit of a longing.

Later, when he was around the snacks table, he felt a pair of hands on his hips and a warm body press against his back. “Hey you!” came Calypso’s voice. “Having fun?”

“Can’t complain,” he said, turning around to face her. She hung on close, and she looked tired, but had a big smile on her face. “Nice folks you have in the company,” he added.

“Aren’t they? They’re the best! Although,” she said, lowering her voice in mock stage-whisper, “they tend to always talk about the same thing.”

Daniel had to laugh at that, and seeing him laugh put a huge smile on Calypso’s face. Unprompted, she hugged him. Her body felt good against his, warm and soft and round in all the right places. “Thanks for coming, Daniel. You don’t know how much it means to me. You’re the first friend I made in this town, and I think meeting you set the tone. You’re my good luck charm. I don’t think anything bad can happen to me when you’re around.”

“You’re drunk, Cal.”

She pulled back, looked at him, grinned widely. “Maybe a bit,” she admitted.

“But I like you too.” And he did. Is this the test? he wondered. Am I suppose to kiss her now?

Before he could decide anything, a woman’s voice shouted over the music. “Strip Tease! Strip Tease!!!”

Calypso laughed as a huge roar rose from the partygoer, and almost organically, the whole crowd settled in concentric circles around a center point on a wall of the living room and space was made and a chair was brought in and a man and a woman—dancers, both of them, clearly—sauntered their way to the cleared area.

The woman sat in the chair and the man stood and the stereo boomed a beat-filled hip-hop tune with a heavy bass line, and the man started dancing, while the woman watched, a smug smile on her face, and she made a face, playing to the audience, who laughed in response and clapped their hands in time with the music.

Daniel watched bemused as the man enacted exactly what the partygoers had asked, namely a strip tease, pulling off his shirt in time with the music and tossing it, revealing a sculpted upper body. The woman in the chair whistled as the man danced for her, as he swirled and shook his hips and played up the camp.

Daniel looked somewhat befuddled and glanced at Calypso, who grinned and ran a hand up his back.

“I know it’s weird, but it’s something that they seem to do every single party. Someone puts on some music and they do a strip routine. It’s all in pretty good taste, really. And frankly, most of them are professional dancers, so it’s a way to wind down and let loose. Plus, you gotta admit,” and she nudged him on the shoulder, a naughty grin on her face, “it’s sexy as hell!”

On the make-shift stage area, the man had discarded his slacks, and garbed in only pair of boxer briefs, he danced sensuously, his attention divided between the audience—which was eating it up, laughing and cheering—and the woman in the chair, which looked at him with a theatrical exaggerated leer.

When she pulled out a bill from her pocket and waved it in the air, the man danced his way to her, close enough for her to slide the bill in his briefs and then, much to Daniel’s dismay, proceeded to give the woman a lap dance, to the crowd’s glee. And Daniel, who had never witnessed a male dancer giving a woman a lap dance before, thought that it wasn’t as weird as he had feared, and the woman was touching the man as the man rubbed himself against her, and there was clearly sparks between those two.

“They’re a couple,” Calypso said in his ear, as if reading his mind.

They watched the couple essentially make-out in front of everyone, with the man practically naked and the woman still dressed, to the sound of the music and the encouragements and cat calls of the audience. Daniel took a moment to appreciate the difference between the typical strip club crowd of rowdy and drunk college students, and this one, a close-knit theater company winding down between stressful rehearsals. It was… supportive, for lack of a better word.

The dancer finally pulled the woman out of her chair and kissed her before they both bowed, broad smiles on their faces. Daniel clapped with everyone else. Calypso was clapping with her hands raised above her heads, shouting “whoohoo” loud enough to compete with the music.

As the couple left the circle, Frank stood and walked up and turned around, surveying the audience. People cheered again, with shouts of “Frankie boy!” coming from here and there. His eyes landed on Daniel and remained on him for a while in a silent challenge before moving to Calypso next to him.

Frank pointed. “Calypso!” he said, and many turned to look at her and cheered her and encouraged her. Calypso made a face and pointed at herself, acting as if she was surprised, and Frank nodded. “Let’s hear it for our hostess,” Frank added, a grin cutting across his handsome face. “Isn’t it high time to break the newest company member’s cherry?” he added.

Everyone laughed at that, but for Daniel, who tried his hardest to smile as if he was in on the gentle ribbing. For the people around them were patting Calypso on the back, and one of Calypso’s fellow dancers leaned back to hug her.

“I guess I have to go,” Calypso told Daniel, and whether there was an apology in her voice he could not tell.

But he watched her stand up and smooth her dress down before bowing in front of everyone, as if she had been granted a deep honor. It was so natural, so utterly selfless, that it struck Daniel at that moment that even if he had not known it beforehand he would have known then that she was an actress, used to moving and talking in the presence of people, to being the center of attention.

As he watched her walk up to stand in front of Frank, who had sat down in the chair with his arms behind his head and his legs spread, looking smug, Daniel felt more alone than he had in a long time, despite being surrounded by people, some of them even patting him on the back as though congratulating him.

The music picked up, someone having selected a new dance track, and Calypso started swaying to the music, her eyes closed, her dress swirling around her hips. Daniel watched Frank, who was staring at Calypso with—and there was no other word for it—hunger in his eyes. The look reminded him of Biff looking at Jenn so much that his vision clouded and he had to fight the urge to do something, anything—be it standing up and stopping whatever was happening in front of his eyes, or just leave and let whatever was happening happen.

Was this the test? If he left, would he fail? Or was the failure to stay and subject himself to this?

He took a page from Jenn’s playbook. She had tried to teach him yoga early in their relationship, and he had always acknowledged that it was something that might be useful for him, without ever actually trying it. He breathed quietly, trying to remove himself from his surroundings—from the partygoers around him cheering and drinking and enjoying themselves, from Calypso who was dancing in as sensual a manner as possible though she had not started taking her clothes off, from that asshole Frank who was staring at Calypso the way a cat might stare at a mouse in a field anticipating when he would jump on her and gobble her whole.

Calypso swayed to the music, without an ounce of self-consciousness, bumping and grinding with the best of them, and her dance was more graceful than arousing. She was dancing as a dancer, and not as a stripper. Not that Frank cared in the least: he remained sitting in his chair, leaning back, not losing one second of the spectacle of the young woman in front of him dancing away and shaking her ass right there before him and for him.

When she sashayed to him, her hips bumping to the music, he pulled his legs together and let her straddle him. She danced on his lap, her back to him, her own legs spread, her arms raised over head, her eyes closed. Obeying the unspoken rules of strip clubs, Frank kept his hands to himself, as Calypso ground her ass back and forth on his lap.

When Calypso straightened up to tease dropping down a strap of her dress to everyone’s delight, Daniel saw Frank pull out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and consult it quickly before stuffing it back where it came from and returning his attention to Calypso who was working the crowd grinning and laughing.

She turned back to Frank, put her hands on his shoulders, and leaned forward, shaking her ass to the audience and arguably giving him a look down the front of her dress. Frank made the requisite face, playing it up for everyone else, but he also leaned over to whisper something in Calypso’s hear, and Daniel noticed that Calypso seemed to miss a beat in her dance routine and stumble slightly before straightening up again.

There was a change. It was subtle, but it was there. Calypso resumed her dancing, but the Calypso that danced was unlike the Calypso that danced earlier. The partygoers did not notice the change immediately, but that something was different soon became clear because the cheering moderated somewhat and people starting paying attention, as Frank stared with a smile on his face.

Swaying to the dance beat, Calypso let her body follow the music and let go, in a way that she had not done before. She waved and swirled and shook and Daniel had difficulty letting his eyes move away from her. She was hypnotic. Her eyes were closed, and when she opened them and looked over the assembled partygoers—her friends, her colleagues—it was as though they were worshippers at her temple and she was the reigning goddess. When she turned around and lifted the back of her dress letting everyone get a peek at her ass in a most revealing thong, the girls whistled and the boys hooted.

She teased pulling down her dress straps again, but this time, her back to the audience, she did pull them down, and Frank who was facing her did not bother making a face and simply looked, his sufficient smile plastered all over his face. He made kissing motions with his lips.

In three shakes of her body, Calypso’s dress shimmied its way down and revealed her slim and toned form clad only in black underwear meant more to exhibit than to hide. She was beautiful, Daniel acknowledged, and people around him seemed to agree for they clapped and cheered loudly and clearly had not expected her to go that far but did not mind at all.

They also did not mind when Calypso danced her way back to Frank and straddled his lap once more, giving everyone a perfect view of her barely covered ass, the thin string of her thong nestled happily between her cheeks, the string around her waist the only thing marring the perfect line of her lower body.

If the way she had danced on his lap before was part of a dance routine that she may or may not have practiced for the purpose of the party, the way she ground herself on his lap now was clearly meant to drive him wild and little else. She danced as if Frank was the only person in the world, her hands on his shoulders, her ass on his lap, her round breasts barely covered by her half-cups bra inches from his face, her body covered with a light sheen of sweat from the heat and the exertion.

Still rubbing her ass on Frank’s lap, Calypso teased the straps of her bra down her shoulders before leaning back towards the crowd, arching her back to the point where her head almost touched the ground and Frank had to put his hands on her thighs to keep her from falling over. But Calypso did not fall. In a motion so smooth it was almost prestidigitation, she reached back and unsnapped her bra and took it off just as she straightened back up.

Tossing her bra into the audience, she shook her breasts in front of Frank, who looked at them with a lecherous smile, his hands still on her thighs, caressing them slowly. She pressed her body against his, rubbing up and down, her breasts in Frank’s face.

Everyone in the room was caught between fascination and surprise, cheering happily.

“Oh my God!” said a broadly grinning girl next to Daniel to a nearby friend, “I can’t believe she just did that! Frank must be eating it up! She must be drunker than I thought.”

“You kidding me?” said her girlfriend, in the same tone, shaking her head, but also smiling. “The way she moves? She’s not drunk. She’s horny as hell!”

“Someone’s gonna get lucky tonight.” And they both laughed at that.

Daniel heard it all, saw it all, and tried his hardest not to react. Calypso was not his responsibility. She was not his to protect and guard against predators. She was her own person.

In front of everyone, Calypso danced on top of Frank’s lap, pressing her naked breasts into his face, rubbing her practically naked ass on his lap, giving a show that would remain in people’s memory for a long time.

She made all the boys in the group when she swiveled on top of Frank and sat back down with her back to his chest, showing herself off in front of everyone clad in nothing but her thong and her boots, her round breasts exposed to everyone, hard nipples erect. Her eyes were closed, as if she were shutting down everyone except for Frank.

Everyone whooped when Frank reached around to grasp Calypso’s breasts in his hands and kneaded them thoroughly, as Calypso squirmed on top of him, her mouth open, head thrown back, her hand reaching to his head to pull him up against her neck and kiss her. She was breathing hard.

The music hit a crescendo and Calypso squirmed in time with the accelerated mood and Frank’s hands got more active and it looked like Calypso came right there in front of everyone when her hips started jerking hard on Frank’s lap in almost disorganized fashion and her mouth flashed open and her body shook and her moans rose over the noise before the music stopped. She collapsed, her body drenched in sweat.

Frank’s hands were still pressed on her breasts, and he still had a smile on his face.

As everyone cheered wildly the wonderful show the couple had given, Frank gave Daniel a long glance, his smile twisting into a smirk with a meaning that was entirely too clear.

Daniel fought hard to keep his face as neutral as possible, clapping with everyone else, trying to show his appreciation for the performance. He did not know why he did that, did not know why he did not just leave, did not know why he submitted himself to the pain.

It had to be more than the phone call, more than the test. It was punishment. And it felt good, in a twisted way. He deserved this. He deserved the pain.

He had led Jenn right to Biff, the man who had torn her from him and twisted her beyond all recognition.

This was retribution. This was Frank reminding Daniel what he had done.

This was atonement.

In front of him, a gleeful Frank and a slightly dazed-looking Calypso holding her discarded dress against her body bowed to the audience. Frank was grinning, and Calypso had a slightly bewildered smile on her face, blushing slightly at what she had done, and laughing at the teases of the girls around her that stood up to hug her and shield her from casual glances as she put her dress back on.

Keeping an eye on Calypso, he watched her slip into her dress. On the other side of the room, Frank got a few slaps on the back from enthusiastic and clearly somewhat envious other boys, and just like that the party seemed to revert to what it was, friends and colleagues mingling and dancing and generally just hanging out.

Pina, the violinist, found him again before he could talk to Calypso. She was wandering around, jumping from conversation to conversation, the other person who seemed to Daniel about as much the odd-duck out as he felt.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she said, smiling. She still had a glass of wine in her hands, and it hadn’t been her first, because her eyes were a little bit glassy.

“Fancy indeed. Did you like the show?”

Pina’s smile broadened. “I’d have to be dead not to have enjoyed it.” She looked wistful for a moment. “I wish I could be so loose, so… so physical. They’re dancers, you know? I think they just deal with the whole body thing completely differently than the rest of us. They’re so much more aware of it, and its sexuality is just a small part of it, as opposed to the rest of us, for whom, well…” She did not finish her sentence, but did not blush either.

Daniel nodded. “I guess. Either way, it’s pretty different than the parties we used to have back in college—”

Pina laughed. “You make it sound like it was ages ago! You can’t be that old!”

Daniel fought back the retort that he felt like a lifetime had passed since those days, which in fact were just the previous year. “Yeah, well, we mostly used to sit around drinking and discussing political philosophy.”

Pina made a face. “Sounds exciting.”

“You have no idea.”

“And may things remain that way,” she said, winking. She raised her wine glass in a cheer. And then she looked over his shoulder. “Look at that,” she said.

Daniel turned. In one corner of the room, Calypso was talking to Frank, who was leaning on the wall held up with one arm. They seemed friendly, even given what they had shared just a few moments earlier. Daniel was about to turn back around when he saw Frank give a quick glance around, as if to make sure no one was paying attention to them—Daniel and Pina were half hidden behind four girls that were doing shots rather loudly—before leaning over and saying something in Calypso’s ear. He saw Calypso give a slight shudder, and then her body language changed. It was subtle, as it had been earlier, but Daniel could not miss it.

And then Calypso wrapped her arms around Frank’s neck and kissed him, a deep kiss that seemed to block out the rest of the world.

Pina and Daniel watched Calypso take Frank by the hand and pull him through the living room, navigating the partygoers, and headed toward the hallway that Daniel knew from a previous visit led to the bathroom and the two bedrooms. From the expression on Calypso’s face, it was clear where she was bringing Frank.

Pina must have guessed the same thing, for she let out a short little laugh. “Guess I was wrong. Less than a week.” She shook her head. “Frank the dog.” Daniel could not tell if she was sad or amused.

He tried to talk to her, to others, but he could not concentrate on the conversations, he lost track of threads, he missed expected responses. The only thing that saved him, he realized belatedly, was that everybody thought he was getting drunk. Since most of the partygoers were well buzzed themselves, he was not particularly conspicuous.

As it was, his eyes, as though pulled by some irresistible force, kept returning to the hallway down which Calypso and Frank had disappeared,

It had been Calypso and Frank heading down that hallway, but it had been Jenn and Biff in his head. Jenn leading Biff, enthralled by whatever the frat boy had done to her to fuck up her mind, unable to resist, a puppet to his sick desires.

And it was all his fault.

The two boys he had been listening to took a step back from him when they saw him stiffen and read in his eyes a rage that they could not explain. “Dude, chill,” one them said, raising his beer bottle.

Daniel ignored them, and slowly walked towards the hallway.

He stopped there for a second, unsure what he was doing, almost in a trance.

Around him, partygoers were partying, laughing, venting the frustrations of arduous rehearsals.

He was following Jenn—she was here, and he was following her—he would find her.

He walked down the short hallway, avoiding without actually noticing her a girl who emerged giggling from the restroom.

He came to stop before the only closed door. Jenn’s—no, Calypso’s—bedroom, he guessed.

He stopped and stared, unable to decide what to do.

Was this the test? He remembered what his mystery caller had told him. Be discreet. Don’t make a scene.

Walking in and beating up Biff—no, Frank—would probably not be discreet. Would walking in be discreet? And what would Calypso think? Daniel saw her lead Frank there, so presumably she wanted to go. What right did he have to barge in and stop her from doing something she wanted to do?

But did she want to do it? Daniel had seen the subtle change in behavior that Calypso had experienced when she danced, and then later when Frank was talking to her. It reminded him so much of how Serena had acted way back at Darnell when a fraternity brother pronounced what Cindy had called her trigger sentence, the one that kicked in whatever fucked up programming had been put into her brain. Programming that Doctor Thaddeus Cargyle, whom Daniel worried had maybe been a Special—a Freak—had…

Daniel’s breath caught when the possibility smacked him upside the head.

Is Frank a Special?

Daniel stiffened. Was this the test? Facing a Special on his own? Without support from Shawbank or Brisecoeur or anyone else from ADCorp? Was he supposed to call in reinforcement?

Just the fact that Frank might be a Special forced Daniel’s hand. He took a step towards the door. How could he even recognize if Calypso had been affected by a Special? The only way to know, Brisecoeur had told him, was through a blood test.

The door to the bedroom opened before Daniel could reach it. Frank stepped out, buttoning up his shirt, a satisfied smile on his face.

He looked up to see Daniel, and his smile turned into a lopsided grin. “Hey man. Daniel, right? Great party, isn’t it?”

Daniel bit bat a nasty reply, and merely shrugged. “Not that bad for this sort of thing.”

The man stepped up in front of Daniel. He was a little taller than Daniel was, but slimmer, and older. Daniel looked at him in the eyes, without flinching, his face neutral. Frank looked back, his grin turning into a smirk.

“If you’re looking for Cal,” Frank said, “she should be out soon.” He pointed back to the closed door with his thumb. “She needs a bit of time to… recover.” His smile grew broader, and he leaned forward, keeping his voice low. Daniel could smell beer on his breath. “She’s one tight chick—well, she was tight.”

He laughed, and patted Daniel on the cheek before stepping away.

Daniel counted to three before turning around and slamming Frank into the wall face first, twisting an arm behind his back. Daniel had never been particularly fond of physical confrontation, and he firmly believed that violence rarely solved anything. But sometimes, he had to admit, it was satisfying. And this was one of those times.

“What the hell, man?” Frank cried, as Daniel pushed the dancer’s arm up his back, pressing on the man’s neck with his left forearm. He said nothing. When Frank tried to wiggle out of his grasp, he merely pushed the man’s arm further up, and put more pressure on his neck, smashing the side of his face into the wall. “Fuck off, you little shit,” growled Frank.

After several tense seconds, Daniel let him go, and took a step back in case Frank decided to escalate.

“I’m gonna fuck you up, man,” shouted Frank, who turned around while holding his bruised arm. “Fuck you up good.”

Daniel merely waited for him, arms lose at his sides the way the defense instructor he had been training with at ADCorp had taught him, ready to counter in case Frank decided to take a swing at him.

Frank looked at Daniel in the eyes, and must have seen something—anger, resolve—because he just shrugged. “Fuck you and fuck your bitch, man. Enjoy the sloppy seconds.” With a last sideway look at Daniel, he slithered away.

Daniel watched him go, still silent, letting his face show nothing. He looked at the door, still closed.

Then he turned and looked at the sheet of paper he had swiped from Frank’s pocket while the man had been distracted by getting pinned to the wall.

The sheet was an email message printed out on a nondescript sheet of white paper.

Hey Frankie. As promised, here’s the information for that girl you were asking about. Use it wisely! Remember, make sure to say her name, then “adjustment code,” then the code number. Here’s what’s available: C003 (submissive), C004 (dominant), C007 (oral lust), C008 (anal lust), C010 (reluctant), C012 (playful), C021 (stripper), C022 (porn star), C023 (prostitute), C033 (tease). I really like the porn star code myself. It’s usually a lot of fun!

In the upper left corner of the message was a small graphic, a braided circle, which reminded Daniel of something that he could not quite put his finger on.

He stared at the message and read it three times, trying to assimilate what it said. A year ago, he would have dismissed it as a joke or as a fantasy. These days, he was more cynical. Or maybe was just more knowledgeable.

Frank was probably not a Special, then. Something had been done to Calypso. By a Special maybe? The same sort of thing that Cargyle had done to those girls that the Delta Iota Kappa fraternity snagged and turned into sex puppets?

Daniel startled when the door to the bedroom opened and Calypso came out. She looked just like she had earlier, if slightly flushed, and her hair was disheveled.

“Oh, hey Daniel. What’s up?”

Daniel had slipped the paper in a pocket, and hesitated for a second. “Just… looking for you, actually. Saw you disappear, wondered if you were okay.”

She smiled. “You’re so sweet. I’m fine. I just went in to…” she paused and gave an imperceptible frown, “just went in to check something. But it’s all good now. Having fun?”

“A blast. Really nice group of friends you got here.”

“They are, aren’t they? Slightly more boisterous—is that a word?—than I probably would like—I mean, who sets up strip parties, right?—but they sure know how to have fun.” She looked at him for a second, her eyes lingering in his. “But I also like quieter times, too. More one on one, you know what I mean?”

Daniel held her gaze for a few seconds. “I do.”

Her smile was infectious. “Good. You coming?” She nodded towards the living room.

“I’ll be right along.”

“Okay.”

Daniel watched her go, on the one hand admiring the way she moved, the way he always did, and on the other hand reviewing what had just happened. What do I do, now? he wondered.

* * *

Daniel kept a low profile for the rest of the party, barely touching his drinks, skipping from conversation to conversation, navigating the grey area between being boring and being interesting. Another thing he had been learning during his training at ADCorp: how to be unobtrusive, to fade in the background. Good agents were invisible agents.

Frank was nowhere to be found. Daniel was told, when he asked, that the man had left.

The party wound down around two in the morning, and Calypso gently but firmly shooed everyone away, calling cabs for those that needed it, and arranging for lifts with the volunteer designated drivers.

Daniel stayed behind, helping the clear out the mess while Calypso made sure everyone made it home okay.

“You don’t have to do that,” she told him, leaning against the entry door after the last partygoer left, watching him collect empty beer bottles. She took off her boots, and wiggled her toes with a contented sigh.

Daniel shrugged. “Great party.”

Calypso smiled, a tired but happy smile. “Agreed. People seemed to be having fun.” She nodded to herself, as if continuing the conversation inside.

“Party was important?” Daniel asked.

“Yeah. I’m the new girl in the company.” She left it at that, trusting Daniel would understand what she meant. He did.

She surveyed the room, considered the prospect of cleaning up, then simply sat down on the couch and leaned her head back against the wall. “I’m pooped. Leave it, Daniel. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

“You sure?”

“It’s late anyway. You should go get some rest too.”

Daniel smiled. “You kicking me out?”

“Does that make me a bad hostess?”

“It doesn’t.”

“Good, I would hate to be a bad hostess.”

Daniel looked at her for a second, then nodded. “All right. I’ll seen you around, then?”

“Definitely. You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

At the door, Daniel hesitated, and fingered the sheet of paper in his pocket. He pulled it out, unfolded it.

“What’s that?” asked Calypso.

“Oh, nothing. Just something I picked up earlier today.”

This was the test, he knew it. He recalled the words of his mystery caller. It will involve putting you in a position to take advantage of that woman. Of course, for all he knew, he was being set up. He had a choice to make. His gut told him that this was the test.

“Calypso, adjustment code C012” he said, casually, as if discussing the weather for the next day.

Calypso, who had been looking at him, stiffened slightly at his words, and her eyes unfocused for a second, and Daniel felt a chill run down his spine—it was the same look that Serena had had so many months ago back at Darnell when, by way of demonstration, she had been triggered in front of him by Cindy.

When Calypso’s eyes refocused, they were staring at him, and her smile grew wider.

“Calypso?” he asked.

“Daniel?” she replied, smiling.

“Huh, what’s up?”

“Well, you, if I do my job right.” Before Daniel could respond, she was in his arms with her tongue halfway down his throat, pressing her body against his.

Daniel had expected it—though part of him had hoped that he was wrong and the sheet of paper was but a joke—and therefore did not jerk back. In fact, and he hated—hated—to admit it, but Calypso felt good in his arms, and she kissed divinely, and the way she rubbed her body up and down just enough to arouse him worked wonders.

Something that Calypso noticed for she pulled back a little, and let her hand gently rub against his crotch. “Yup. Job done right.” Her smile was contagious, and she kissed him again, harder this time. It was as if whatever layer of inhibition had existed inside her had vanished.

Before long, and without her mouth ever leaving his, she had guided him to the couch and had pushed him down. Straddling him, she made sure he felt her ass press down on his cock.

“You like this?” she asked, her voice low and seductive.

He looked back at her, wondering what to do. The way she looked, with her hair falling down around her face, a slight flush on her skin, reminded him so much of Jenn it hurt. Part of him wanted to run away and be miserable on his own. Another part of him—he was not even sure he would have qualified it as a more primitive part of him—wanted to fuck her.

Mystery caller wants me to take advantage of her? Fine.

He kissed her back, leading the charge this time, and Calypso cooed in pleasure as she welcomed him.

She laughed as Daniel flipped her back on the couch and stretched out atop her. Calypso alternated between kissing him and pulling his shirt over his head and wrapping her legs around him to pull him closer.

Her hands on his chest felt good. Her lips on his nipples felt better. Her legs around his waist felt incredible.

He pulled down the top of her dress—freeing her breasts, nice and round and begging for his attention. She moaned and arched her back to present them to him.

There was a small hickey on her left breast, fresh—Frank, thought Daniel. He had no time to seriously think about it because Calypso pulled his head down to her breast with urgency. “Fuck yeah, suck my tits, Daniel.” Her voice was low, growling, hot. “God—I love getting my tits sucked. Harder!”

She pressed Daniel’s face into her chest even as she squirmed harder against him, before running her hands up his back and scratching him.

“Ouch!” He looked up at her only to be met with a giggle and a naughty expression.

“Oh, did I hurt you? I’m so sorry,” without sounding like she was. “Are you going to punish me?”

Before he could respond she kissed him again, and ran her nails down his back as she bucked against him.

“Are you going to punish me with that hard cock of yours?” she repeated.

“You’d certainly deserve it you… you…”

He could not finish. Calypso kissed him again, and he dove in after her, feeling himself getting lost in emotions too long pent-up. He had sublimated so much ever since the events of Darnell, ever since his life fell apart, and forgotten drives were coming up to the surface, wild, stampeding, and unstoppable.

Calypso must have felt a change in his attitude for she held him tight even as she rubbed her legs against his sides, and as he reached with a hand to run it up her thigh underneath her dress, she laughed and flipped him onto his back so that she could straddle him.

Her ass was pressed against his cock again, still trapped in his slacks, and she ground against it even as she straightened up and kneaded her own breasts, her eyes wild, a lusty grin on her face.

“You like my tits, baby?” she asked, kneading her breasts, playing with her nipples, all the while pressing down on Daniel’s cock.

“You know I do.”

“Do I? Is it because there’s this hard thing trying to poke its way into my ass?” She pressed harder, making him moan.

“How about my pussy, baby? You like my pussy?” In one swift motion, she pulled her dress over her head, revealing she wore nothing underneath—her naked body was beautiful, toned and silky. “You like my pussy?” she ran her fingers down her body to the slim landing strip between her legs, rubbing herself even as she tilted her hips. “My pussy likes you, baby.” She pressed two fingers inside. “She’s all wet.”

She reached down to press those same fingers to Daniel’s lips, who sucked them dutifully, enjoying her taste, unable to stop himself from comparing her taste to Jenn’s—don’t go there, Daniel. Just don’t.

“This is all yours, baby,” she said, not picking up on any discomfort on his part, one hand on her breasts, one hand between her legs, rubbing herself against his admittedly rock-hard cock. “This pussy’s all yours, to fuck to your heart’s content.”

She rubbed his crotch to his pants, and grinned as she looked him in the eyes. “Just like this cock’s all mine—to fuck to my heart’s content.”

He stared at her for a long time, suddenly not sure what to do, feeling pangs of guilt stabbing him. And then he heard the voice in the back of his head—just indulge, Dan, said Cindy’s voice, or you’re going to explode, just open up and dive in, it’s just sex, you’re not betraying Jenn, you know her too well for that—and as if to prove her right, Jenn’s voice rang in his head in counterpoint—She’s right Daniel, it’s just sex, and the way you’re closing up, it’s not healthy. You’re not doing anything wrong, you’re just letting off steam, making human contact, you’re not cheating, you’re not taking advantage of me not being here, you’re just being human, do it for me, Daniel, so that when you find me you’ll be happy and healthy.

It was all rationalization, of course, a way for him to reconcile his physical desires and his hopes to remain faithful to Jenn—right, said Cindy’s uncharacteristically snarky voice, like you remained faithful when you fucked my pretty little tushy off a few months ago—and it did not even start to address the question of whether Calypso really wanted to do what she was doing. You must pass the test, had emphasized the mystery caller.

“Where did you go there, baby?” Calypso’s soothing voice jerked him out of his reverie, even as her hand deftly unfastened his slacks.

He reached up and cupped one of Calypso’s breasts, eliciting a gasp and a moan from the beautiful woman straddling him. Her hand grasped his cock in response, and started stroking. “Not important,” he said. “Just… thinking.”

“Then maybe I need to distract you from those boorish thoughts. And I know just the way…”

In two moves she was down by his legs bending down and taking his cock into her mouth, and the voices in Daniel’s mind all shut up as Calypso took him deep. Without skipping a beat, she was sucking him hard, her head bobbing up and down, holding up her hair with her free hand.

When she pressed her face down, pushing his cock inside her as far as she could make it go, gagging slightly but not letting up, Daniel groaned and felt his hips twist of their own volition, but Calypso did not demur, pressing her head down as if she wanted to shove the remaining two inches down her throat. She gagged one last time, hard, and then pulled up, laughing, drool dripping down her chin.

“God you taste good, baby,” she said, catching her breath, looking up at Daniel with her beautiful round eyes, looking feverish. “You like that? You like shoving that cock down my throat?” she asked.

It was a rhetorical question. She resumed her cocksucking, forcing her head down on him over and over again, the sounds of his cock hitting the back of her throat disturbingly loud, a hack-hack-hack of frenzied rhythm. Saliva dripped down and pooled between his legs, but all he could think of was the amazing feel all over his cock. Calypso pulled off just as his hips were fighting to press up and fuck her face and bring about his final explosion.

“Oh no,” she said, her breath short, swallowing hard, “you’re not coming just yet baby. I want that fucking cock deep in my cunt.” Without waiting for an answer, she dove and started licking his balls, one hand jacking his cock slowly but forcefully, not enough to bring him off, but keeping him on edge. Daniel groaned as she took one sensitive ball into her mouth and sucked on it, the feelings veering wildly between amazing and uncomfortable. He felt vulnerable. “Fuck, Cal,” he groaned.

Calypso’s free hand shot out and grabbed his and she squeezed it, as she kept on sucking and licking.

Daniel’s groan turned into a gasp when he felt her lips go lower, right past his balls and trailing kisses down to his cheeks and with a gently push on his thighs thrust his ass forward and before he could do or say anything, she had her tongue between his cheeks and was tonguing his ass, her hand on his cock jacking him off in time with her movement, a perfect counterpoint of pleasure.

To say he had never had that done to him would have been redundant, and for a second he self-conscious, but Calypso’s moans of pleasure merged with the quiet slapping of her hand stroking him and he lost himself in the sensations. Her tongue felt fantastic.

Calypso rimmed him for several minutes, bringing him to the edge of release many times before releasing him, unrelenting and moaning and even sometimes giggling as she serviced him.

When he thought he could take no more he grabbed her head and pulled her up. “Cal, Cal! Please!”

“I like it when you beg, baby,” she said, breathing hard, her eyes alight with lust, a sheen of sweat on her face. “It makes me all gooey inside.”

“You’re nuts, Cal,” he said.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby.” She straightened up and indicated to Daniel to stand up. “Come on. Don’t worry. I’m going to finish you off. I’m not done with this guy just yet,” she gave his cock two strokes for good measure.

Daniel stood up, his cock bobbing in front of him, and he watched Calypso give it a lingering look before turning around and dropping to her hands and knees on the couch, her perfect ass pointed straight at him. She looked over her shoulder. “Pound me hard, baby. Pound me as hard as you can.”

She leaned forward, raised her ass further up, and with her hands spread her cheeks, exposing her glistening pussy. Daniel was transfixed. His body was clamoring for release.

“Come on, baby,” she said, waving her ass. “I wanna feel your fat cock inside me.”

He had received instructions. He was to take advantage of her. Otherwise—otherwise what?

“Fuck me, baby,” moaned Calypso, pushing one finger between her dripping lips.

He stopped thinking. Trust your guts, he heard Shawbank’s voice. Without a further thought he took a step forward and pressed his cock against Calypso’s slit.

She moaned a throaty “Oh yes” before pushing back against him and her pussy sucked him inside like a lollipop, and she was hot and wet and tight and before he knew it he was fucking her for dear life.

“Take me baby! Take me like a little bitch!” Calypso was thrusting back as hard as he was pushing in, and the loud slaps of skin upon skin echoed in the living room.

It had been too long since his last release, and he knew he would not resist that long. Calypso writhed beneath him, moaning and groaning and urging him on, and he wondered how much she knew, how much she was part of this spinning web that he could imagine around him trying to ensnare him. He closed his eyes, for a blissful moment forgetting everything but the tight pussy squeezing his cock.

Calypso arched her back almost impossibly and reached back with a hand and pulled his head to her and over her shoulder she kissed him, hard, her mouth wet and her tongue demanding. Daniel’s hand reached around to grasp a breast and he twisted one of her nipples causing her to moan louder and to stiffen suddenly as an orgasm broke through her.

He groaned as he felt her pussy squeeze him tight and Calypso, through the haze of her orgasm, felt him tighten up and with an indistinct shout she twisted around and collapsed at his feet and took him in her mouth and sucked harder than he had ever been sucked and just like that he exploded, his hands in Calypso’s hair, his cock halfway down her throat.

After the first jet Calypso pulled him out and let him come all over her face, over her eyes and nose and lips and she was breathing hard and laughing as she licked him and used her fingers to spread his spent all over her features. “Fuck that’s nice,” she said, breathing hard, only able to open one eye for the other one was smothered shut. “I love your cock, baby,” she added, lying down on the couch while still playing with his semen.

Daniel crouched down on the floor, his back against the couch, trying to catch his own breath, feeling as though his soul had been sucked out of him.

What now? was the thought that popped into his head once his heart had resumed his normal rhythm.

“Cal?” He looked at her. She was asleep on the couch, a smile on her face, his cum dripping slowly down her chin. She looked happy, he realized with surprise. How is she going to feel when she wakes up? he wondered.

He debated what to do. He finally elected to layer a blanket over her body, and left a note saying “Call me” on the table. After a hesitation, he added “Love, Daniel” at the bottom of the note.

He left the apartment after turning off all the lights.

On the way to his place, he looked again at the sheet with the adjustment codes, and he stared at the image in the upper right corner, the braided circle. He knew why it looked familiar now.

Calypso had a tattoo that looked exactly like that around her pinkie, which he had noticed when she had held her cheeks apart before and urged him to fuck her.

* * *

A day later, Daniel was sitting on a bench facing Baltimore’s Inner Harbor. It was one of the places where he and Sam O’Neill met, for the private investigator wanted to avoid Daniel’s apartment, suspicious that the place, which had been provided by ADCorp, might be under surveillance. If the mysterious caller was to be believed, O’Neill was correct in his assessment.

Calypso had called that morning, responding to the note Daniel had left. They had a pleasant conversation, and Calypso did not mention feeling either strange or hung over, nor did she make reference to their getting together, even though she must have woken up with dried semen crusted on her face and on her chest. She apologized for falling asleep on him, and thanked him for putting a blanket over her before leaving. Daniel felt like the scummy froth atop the waves of the ocean.

The black cell phone buzzed in his pocket. There was a text message, sender number unknown. Will call in five minutes. Be outside.

Five minutes later, the phone buzzed again. Caller unknown.

“Yes?” Daniel said.

“Mister Malcolm. I hear that everything went well last night. I’m glad.” Daniel could not tell if it was the same caller as before. It was, however, the same voice modulator.

“Depends what you mean by went well.”

“I believed you passed the first test.”

“And?”

“You will not be terminated. Well done.”

There was a silence. Daniel watched two sailboats in the harbor navigating one around the other.

“So Calypso was the test?” Daniel asked.

“I am not privy to the name of the woman in question, but if it involved codes to control her, then yes, she was the test.”

“Was that your doing?”

“No. It is simply standard procedure at ADCorp. It’s the protocol for every new recruit in the enforcement arm of the company.”

“The protocol is to give me a… sex toy to play with?”

“No, Mister Malcolm. The protocol is to test whether you would use such a sex toy if afforded the opportunity.”

“What if I had not… used her?”

“Then you would have failed the test and been eliminated.”

“Why didn’t you tell me all of this beforehand?”

“Because there are very smart people analyzing your behavior before, during, and after the test. Had you known exactly what was going on you would have done something to give it away, and those very smart people they would have picked up on it and you would have failed the test.”

“Yet you warned me that there was a test, and that I would have to do something that I would not normally do.”

“A calculated risk. It would have been more dangerous to send you in with no warning whatsoever.”

“I take it not every recruit has a bug in their ear helping them out?”

The voice at the other end of the line laughed softly, a sound still made ominous by the voice modulator.

“So what’s the point of the test?” Daniel asked.

“The protocol as a whole is there to ensure that ADCorp enforcement agents are willing to navigate the grey areas of consent.”

“Last night didn’t strike me as that grey, frankly. It was pretty black and white.”

The voice made no comment.

“Okay, so why do we need to navigate the grey areas of consent, as you call them?”

“You’ll find out in due time, Mister Malcolm. Again, I can’t tell you more right now. It would be dangerous.”

“So what’s your game, then?” Daniel asked. He did not turn when Sam O’Neill sat down on the bench next to him. The private investigator remained silent.

“No game,” replied the modulated voice. “My only goal is to help you, Mister Malcolm.”

“Why?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Everyone has reasons.”

“Indeed.”

It was getting frustrating. “So what now?”

“What now indeed. The protocol is ongoing, until you get your first security clearance. So I suggest, Mister Malcolm, that you keep on using… what did you call her? Calypso? This is not a one-off affair. One single act does not provide evaluation material. You’ll need to prove to your evaluators that given the opportunity to use a young woman, you will do so with enthusiasm and pleasure.”

“That’s sick.”

“Nevertheless, it is necessary. You do want to find your fiancée, don’t you?”

“Do you know where she is?” Daniel asked. Next to him, O’Neill straightened up and looked at him.

“As I told you before, I don’t know where she is. If I did, I would tell you, believe me. But your best bet to find her is to continue with ADCorp.”

“And why is that? Because Thaddeus Cargyle worked there?” Daniel thought he would jerk the voice out of its omniscient complacency by the revelation of what he knew—though he had no proof. But the voice was unperturbed.

“Tell me, Mister Malcolm. What did last night remind you of?”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me put it another way: why is it that we are having the conversation we’re having now, as opposed to a conversation where you try to impress me with the impossibility of the sort of control that you exhibited over your friend Calypso last night?”

Daniel hesitated a moment. “Because I’ve met a Special.”

“Calypso was not affected by a Special, Mister Malcolm.”

Daniel thought back to the tattoo around Calypso’s finger. He knew what it reminded him of. He knew what Calypso’s behavior reminded him of.

“Darnell,” he said finally. “Delta Iota Kappa. Cargyle.”

“Very good, Mister Malcolm.”

“So what’s been done to Calypso is what was done to Jenn.” The content of that statement sank in slowly.

“Not exactly. From what I understand, Cargyle was working on something more advanced than what was done to Calypso.”

“Tell me,” Daniel said.

“Not yet, Mister Malcolm. You can’t skip steps.”

“Why not?”

“So many reasons. But the main one is still that it would raise suspicions. And you are already suspicious to many.”

The image of Eve Shawbank flashed through Daniel’s mind.

“I gotta say, I feel like a pawn in all of this.”

“You’re not a pawn, Mister Malcolm. Far from it. If you really wanted to push the analogy, I would say you are a knight: unrestrained, unpredictable, and able to move on the board in a way unlike any other piece. But a knight also cannot achieve mate by itself, and you should remember that too.”

“So I’m a knight. Are you the king?”

“I certainly hope not,” said the voice, snorting—at least, Daniel guessed it was a snort. “The king is slow, defenseless, and good only as a target. Good luck, Mister Malcolm. I will be in touch. And remember: take advantage of your friend Calypso.”

“Wait! What do I call you?”

There was a pause, and Daniel thought his interlocutor had disconnected. “You can call me Paul.” And then the phone beeped to say the connection was ended.

Daniel flipped the phone closed and stared at it. Paul. He did not know any Paul.

“Who was that?” O’Neill asked. He was too jaded to truly get surprised by anything, but what he had heard Daniel talk about on the phone bothered him.

“Paul,” Daniel said, shaking his head.

“Who’s Paul?”

“Good question.”

Daniel brought O’Neill up to speed, telling him about receiving the phone, the first phone call, the events at the party, and the last phone call. O’Neill listened silently.

When Daniel was done, O’Neill nodded.

“So what do you think?” Daniel asked. “Can we trust him?”

“If it’s even a him,” O’Neill muttered, stroking his chin. He slipped a cigar in his mouth without lighting it. “And no, it goes without saying, we can’t trust him. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he were right about that protocol business.”

“Yeah,” Daniel nodded. He was thinking back on the conversation. Having such a protocol seemed to fit with what he had learned about ADCorp since he started there. “If it’s true that what’s been done to Calypso is the same thing that’s been done to Jenn, then maybe I can find a way to cure Jenn if we ever find her.” He remained carefully neutral when he said that.

“When we find her,” corrected O’Neill. “I know where she is.”

“What?” Daniel jumped, frightening a squirrel that had approached the pair hoping for a handout.

“I know where she is. She’s at the Craven-Wilford Institute for Mental Health. In the Lower Hudson Valley.”

* * *

ADCORP CONFIDENTIAL MEMO to Adonai Davenham.

SUBJECT: Recruit Daniel Malcolm.

SUMMARY: Protocol initial contact successfully completed by recruit Daniel Malcolm, ID 9113484. Adjustment code C012 invoked. Monitoring by target activated.

PERSONAL COMMENTS: Malcolm successfully executed initial contact, despite a clear perceived reticence by our agent present at the instigating encounter. Personality analysis indicated a better than 75% chance that Malcolm would turn his back to the events during the instigating encounter, and a 20% chance of violent confrontation. Against these odds, Malcolm navigated the instigating encounter, gained access to the codes by his own actions—which did not require those codes to be put in his presence surreptitiously—and later activated the first step of protocol. Malcolm did choose the adjustment code with least DHV index, which matches his personality profile, but explains the passing but borderline evaluation. It is this evaluator’s opinion that the monitoring of recruit Malcolm be given additional scrutiny to ensure he remains over threshold level. Termination plans should be readied and updated in case of failure (likelihood 67%).