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			DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
			A Bug's Tale (Charlie's Story) ———————————————— by Van & Courier  ©2000
			Chapter 7

Charlie's stomach growled as Delores (the Manacled Maid) added the fifth entrée to the large plate in front of Teri, her equally chained, rope-bound, and gagged companion, then added a generous portion to Charlie's plate.  The food looked and smelled delicious.  It all was decidedly Southwest in flavor, and while roasted peppers and chilies, various kinds of beans, flour and corn tortillas, and the various egg-rich tarts and casseroles weren't Charlie's usual breakfast fare... (Her stomach grumbled again ) ...she was willing to give it a try.  Willing, but unable.  She exchanged a glance with Teri, and the helpless captives sighed behind their gags.

Victoria, their "hostess", had already begun eating, and was watching her "guests", obviously enjoying their plight.  Charlie wasn't sure how to behave.  If this was one of the staged melodramas Margo's Inner Circle indulged in, Charlie knew her role would be Helpless Damsel, and she'd be hamming it up, twisting in her bonds, mewling and begging.  But this wasn't Inner Circle fun-and-games.  It was real, and she had no idea how to push her captors' buttons... or which buttons she wanted to push.  Victoria was obviously in charge, but Charlie didn't know her.  As if I know any of them, she mused.

Drake-the-Bitch was also eating, more or less ignoring the captives.  Charlie felt she had a better line on Drake.  Superficially, Kat liked to play the bad ass.  Drake was a bad ass.  Yep, she's turned to the 'Dark Side,' Charlie decided.  Darth Drake.

Jessie the teenage Reluctant Kidnapper, was more of an enigma.  She seemed genuinely decent, concerned for the prisoners she'd helped capture.  So why'd she do it? Charlie wondered.  And if she is a decent kid, how'd she stay decent, growing up in a luxurious madhouse with the inmates in charge?

Delores' bells tinkled near Charlie's left ear.  She watched as the chained Latina poured blended fruit juice into a thick Mexican glass tumbler near Charlie's plate.  Charlie looked up at the semi-helpless maid, and found something that might be amusement in the gorgeous dark eyes framed by the steel bands of her tight brank. Okay, here's a real enigma, Charlie thought.

Delores set the pitcher of juice on the table and took a step back.  Now Charlie, Teri, and the Manacled Maid were the only ones not eating (for obvious reasons).  Delores carefully stepped behind Jessie.  From the corner of her eye, Charlie could just see the Latina's right hand gently nudge the towel-wrapped teenager's back.  Jessie set her fork down and looked towards Victoria.

Victoria continued eating for several seconds, then smiled.  "All right, all right, you can feed the new pets if you want," she said.  "I do indulge her," she said to Drake, "don't I?"  Drake continued eating, still ignoring her table companions.

Delores stepped beside Teri and Jessie rose from her chair and joined Charlie.  The seated captives' gags were unbuckled, gently pulled from their mouths, and tossed aside.  Jessie held the juice glass to Charlie's lips and she drank.  The redhead then filled a fork with chorizo and eggs and fed the hungry prisoner.  Several forkfuls later, Charlie licked her lips and smiled up at the towel-wrapped redhead.  "Thanks," she whispered.

"You're welcome," Jessie answered softly, blushing prettily.

The eggs were followed by a spicy bean salad, followed by lamb stew with corn and tomatoes, followed by pancakes with piñon nuts, followed by a sausage, chilies, and egg tort, followed by...

"Pork tenderloin with cranberry and chipotle sauce," Jessie whispered with a smile.

"It's good," Charlie whispered back, wolfing down another forkful.

"How can something so little eat so much?" Victoria mused aloud.

Charlie felt her cheeks color.  "You'd be hungry too if you'd been locked in a freakin' dungeon for hours and hours," she answered hotly.  Victoria held Charlie's gaze evenly for several seconds, but said nothing.  Oops, Charlie thought.

"I don't think I like your attitude," Victoria said finally, then reached under her chair and produced a riding crop.  She smiled evilly, and gave Teri a quick slap on her left breast.  Teri yelped, spitting a little food back onto her plate, then swallowed angrily and began to speak.  She froze when she saw Victoria was smiling at her pleasantly, and using the broad tip of the crop to lift Charlie's chin.  Teri said nothing.  "The Doctor's a quick learner," she observed.

"They both are," Drake said, between bites of fry bread.

Victoria's gaze shifted to Charlie, and she lowered the crop, resting the tip on the petite prisoner's left nipple.  "It's very rude to talk back to your hostess," she admonished.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, glancing to the side and eyeing the fading red mark on her friend's breast.  She quickly returned her eyes to the front, and met Victoria's amused gaze.  "I apologize."  Unseen, Jessie slid her right hand behind Charlie's back, found the captive's manacled right hand, gave it a gentle squeeze, and held it.  Charlie returned the squeeze.  I have a friend, she decided.

Victoria toyed with Charlie's nipple for a few seconds, then returned the riding crop to the flagstones beside her chair.  "I forgive you," she said lightly.  "Now, please, continue eating and I'll outline our plans for the future."

Our plans? Charlie thought, chewing a mouthful of roasted chili stuffed with... something.

"I have two hobbies that occupy my time," Victoria said.  "The first is archeology.  I collect and trade in ancient artifacts, especially Native American ceramics.  You, Dr. Fournelle; and you, Ms. Paretsky, with your advanced technology; are going to help me indulge my hobby.  We're going to—"

"No," Teri interrupted.  "Absolutely not.  McQuade Galleries—New York, Chicago, Santa Fe, Los Angeles?"  Victoria nodded in amused silence.  "Your reputation precedes you, Ms. McQuade.  You're a crook and a swindler, and you deal in dead pots."

"Dead pots?" Charlie asked.  Hope you know what you're doing, Ter, she thought.

"Burial goods," Teri explained.  "Pots placed in graves with holes drilled in the bottoms to release their spirits, so the deceased can use them in the Spirit World.  She deals with grave robbers, which makes her a grave robber."

"Interesting scruples, considering your profession," Victoria said with a coy smile.

Teri's cheeks reddened.  "I won't help you," she said evenly.

"And that brings us to my second hobby," Victoria said, pouring herself some champagne.  "I collect torture devices.  Late Medieval, Early Renaissance, I'm especially partial to the Inquisition.  Are you familiar with the Reverend Mother Embeth Peale, Doctor?"  Teri ignored Victoria's question.  Charlie turned from Victoria to Teri and back, obviously confused... and curious.  Victoria smiled.  "She was Prioress of Our Lady of Perpetual Submission at Seversea-on-Wye in the Late Sixteenth Century, one of the great matriarchs of the Order of St. Gwendolyne.  She designed several so-called Engines of Persuasion that were decades if not centuries ahead of her time, a regular Welsh da Vinci of pain."

"Seversea-on-Wye was a notorious prison," Teri explained, frowning in disapproval, "for criminal or inconvenient noblewomen.  Embeth Peale is notorious for her, uh, unconventional teachings."

"And her almost legendary inquisitorial zeal," Victoria added.  "The Vatican banned her work.  They might have branded her a heretic, in fact, if the Curia had gotten around to making a judgment before she had already died of old age.  I have a copy of her complete portfolio."

Charlie found she had lost her appetite.

"I've reproduced some of her machines," Victoria continued, "and now I have a chance to try them out—to really—try them out."

"I won't help you," Teri repeated.

Victoria smiled and sipped her champagne.  "Yes, you will," she purred, "with both my hobbies."

Janet had expected to find thirty or forty additional Feds at the top of the cliff, milling around smartly in latex gloves and blue jackets, but when she unsnapped herself from the line and stepped out of her borrowed climbing harness, there was nobody there but Kat—nobody human anyway.  Two more of the tarantula robots were clustered around a larger, less explicitly arachnoid robot at a sandy area near the cliff's edge.  Kat was standing beside the larger robot, studying a small computer screen built into the side of the strange machine.

"The forensics robot has found one set of vehicle tracks," Kat explained, pointing at the ground near the large robot, "and more tracks from the two sets of climbing shoes we saw down below."

Janet walked over, being very careful where she stepped.  "Pretty wide wheel base," she observed, indicating the vehicle tracks.

Kat smiled.  "Good eyes, Sergeant," she said.  "A Humvee, with relatively new tires."

Janet gestured at the... 'forensics robot' and the pair of scuttling tarantula-bots.  "Where did all this come from?"

"We landed a cargo drone about a half mile... that way."  Kat pointed towards a relatively flat stretch of rock and scrub to the North.  "A second forensics-bot is following the Humvee's trail as we speak.  We have a surveillance drone circling at about four thousand feet, and have managed to task some satellite surveillance, but so far... no sign of a Humvee we can link back to this site."

"It could be in Mexico or even Canada by now," Janet remarked.  Kat frowned but said nothing.  Janet's observation was depressingly true.  "By the way, how did you get here?"

Kat continued studying the screen, but gestured to the far side of the valley at their backs.  "I buzzed out and did a drop-and-pop."

"Excuse me?" Janet asked.

Kat snapped a cover over the computer screen and turned to face the Navajo.  "I rode a cargo drone to the area, then skydived."

Janet regarded the camouflaged Fed with renewed respect.  Riding in what amounted to the coffin-size hold of a cruise missile—then jumping out of the thing in mid-flight?  "No seats available on the red-eye to Tucson?"

 Kat grinned.  "I'd still be trying to get a cab at the airport."  Suddenly, an engine could be heard droning in the distance.  Kat pointed at the Western sky.  "...and speaking of transportation."  A strange looking aircraft was approaching.  It circled their position, then slowly dropped to the desert floor about a quarter mile away.

"That's one of those new tilt-wings," Janet said, "the ones with ducted fans instead of big props?"

"Yep," Kat answered.  "Let's go," she said, then jogged towards the aircraft without looking back.

By the time they reached the strange arrival, its engines had stopped, a cargo hatch had opened, and a very strange vehicle was rolling out into the bright sunshine.  The vehicle had sloped, streamlined sides, but was not entirely unlike a commercial SUV or pickup... only it had six wheels.

"Can't you do anything... normal?" Janet asked Kat.

Kat said nothing, but turned to greet the aircraft's pilot, who was emerging from a hatch near the cockpit.   The pilot was female, a svelte, very attractive female with short, black hair.  She was dressed in a military, gray-green flight suit with no patches or markings.  (Janet noted that the aircraft as well had no markings, other than a subdued civilian ID number.)  As she approached, the pilot unzipped her flight suit to the navel, shrugged out of the sleeves, and tied them together across her flat stomach.  Underneath, she was wearing a white, body-hugging, sleeveless top.  "Sergeant Janet Begay," Kat said, "this is Lourdes."

The pilot presented a slender right hand.  "Pleased to meet you, Sergeant," she said with a friendly smile.

"Likewise," Janet answered, returning Lourdes' surprisingly firm handshake.  The pilot had a lilting accent Janet couldn't quite place.

"How are things back at headquarters?" Kat asked.

"About what you'd expect," Lourdes answered soberly.  "Elke's climbing the walls."

Kat frowned and stared at the pilot for several seconds, then turned her head and studied a distant mesa.  "I guess something like this reminds you what's really important," she mumbled.  "When you call in, tell Elke I'll do my best."

Lourdes smiled again.  "Anything else you want me to tell her?  ...something she doesn't know already?"  The pilot turned to Janet, and found her examining the six wheeled vehicle.  "Quite a beauty, isn't it?" Lourdes asked.  "It has a hybrid-electric engine that'll run on anything from alcohol to hydrogen—"

"Or gasoline?" Janet asked with a laconic grin.

"Or gasoline," Lourdes confirmed with a smile.  "It has six electric motors, one in the hub of each wheel.  It can do ninety plus on pavement, and can go any place a tank can go off-road."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration," Kat said.  "It can't go through a concrete wall, or—"

"I get the picture," Janet interrupted.  "Let's talk about what we should do to find Teri and Charlie."

"Okay," Kat said, walking towards the vehicle.  "I suggest we—"

"But first let's talk about who you two really work for," Janet said evenly.

Kat spun on her heel and froze in place, looking at once graceful and dangerous.

Lourdes' smile broadened and she stepped between Kat and the Navajo cop.  "We're on the side of the angels," Lourdes said, "I assure you."

"I believe that," Janet said.  (Kat relaxed.)  "But who signs your paychecks?  Margo Wells?"

Kat pulled her ID holder out of her pocket and tossed it to Janet.  "Okay, I'm TESSERACT Security," she admitted, "but what I told you about having Federal posse comitas authority is true, through NSA and Defense contracts.  I suppose I should have told you I was an Acting Special Agent, but I thought it might... complicate things."

Janet examined the TESSERACT ID and badge for several seconds, then tossed it back to Kat.  "You might be right," Janet admitted.  "What about you?" she said to Lourdes.  "You an Astronaut with UN Space Command?"

"She is a bit of a Space Cadet," Kat said with a nearly invisible grin.

"I deny nothing," Lourdes said, still smiling broadly.

Janet shook her head.  "I guess I better deputize you two so we can get back to work."

"Let's all deputize each other," Lourdes suggested, "and let the lawyers sort things out when it's over."

"I don't care what you do to me," Teri said hotly, struggling in her bonds.  "I won't help you loot archeological sites."

Victoria smiled evilly and set her empty champagne glass beside her plate.  "And your little friend here?" she asked, indicating Charlie.  "Do you care what I do to her?"

Teri started to answer, then stopped.  She looked at Charlie, and found a dimpled grin on her friend's face.  Teri returned the grin, but her eyes were sad.  "I...  What exactly do you want me to do?" Teri asked.

"Well," Victoria said, "we'll begin by—"

"She won't help you," Charlie said lightly.

"Charlie," Teri whispered in a warning tone.

"And I won't help you run my SAARI system," Charlie continued, "and without it you'll never find anything."  She turned to Teri.  "It doesn't matter, Ter," she explained.  "She's going to torture us anyway."  Charlie turned back to Victoria.  "Aren't you?"

"Of course," Victoria said, with a feral grin.  "I won't damage you—that only spoils things in the long term, and I never have had an appetite for blood—but I think you both need an opportunity to appreciate your new status, and what better way than for me to—"

"You lied to me," Jessie said evenly.

All heads swiveled to the redheaded teenager.  "Not now, Jessie dear," Victoria said coldly.  "We'll discuss this later, in private."

"We'll discuss it now," Jessie responded.  "You told me they were criminals.  They aren't criminals at all, are they?  You're the criminal."

"Jessica," Victoria warned.

"You're going to let them go," Jessie said, "right now, or I'll—"

"Or you'll what?" Victoria demanded.  "Call the Sheriff?  Have you forgotten that I own the Sheriff?  Have you forgotten that you were actively involved in their kidnapping?"

"I don't care!" Jessie shouted, stamping her bare foot.  "Let them go!"

"Oh, Jessie," Victoria sighed.  "I'm very disappointed in you.  Throwing a tantrum in front of guests?  Is that any way for a McQuade to behave?"

Jessie's face turned bright red and her hands balled into fists.

Don't do anything stupid, Kiddo, Charlie thought.

"You let them go," Jessie shouted, "or I'll—"  Drake, a cruel smile on her darkly tanned features, had erupted from her chair and was now standing one short pace from the suddenly very nervous teenager.

"It was inevitable, I suppose," Victoria mused aloud, pouring herself more champagne.  "Jessie's been very naughty, Drake dear," she purred.  "Timeout for Jessie."

Jessie had time to shout one strangled "No!" as Drake grabbed the towel-wrapped redhead with one hand, and an unused coil of rope from the back of Charlie's chair with the other.  There was a brief and very uneven wrestling match, and soon Jessie was stomach down on the stone flags in a tight hog-tie.  Drake jerked the towel from around the teenager's torso, ripped a long, narrow strip from the thick, white terry cloth, and began tying a tight overhand knot in the strip's center.  Jessie squirmed in her bonds, angry and flushed.  "You can't just—M'MMPFH!"  Drake thrust the knot between Jessie's teeth and tied the strip tight behind the naked teenager's head, pulling the ends until Jessie's cheeks bulged.

"Drake, have you seen Jessie lately?" Victoria asked quietly, sipping her champagne.

Jessie's captor laughed.  "I think she took a horse up into the mountains," Drake said in her husky voice.  "You know how she is: decides she wants to be alone, packs some grub, and just rides off?  She could be gone for days... even weeks."

All at the table watched as the nude, gagged teenager writhed and struggled in her bonds.  "I wish she wouldn't do that," Victoria mused, "just light out without telling us where she's going, I mean.  What if something happened to her?  We could comb those mountains for years and never find her.  I blame myself.  I simply should have taken a stricter hand with her.  She could be so... willful."

Charlie and Teri exchanged horrified looks, then, Charlie looked up at Delores, the chained and branked maid.  The amusement was gone from the Latina's beautiful eyes, replaced by deep sorrow.

Drake retrieved a second coil of rope and began lashing Jessie's elbows tightly together and her arms to her sides.  Victoria watched, a pleasant smile on her face.  Fruity as a nut cake, Charlie thought, both of them.  Her task finished, Drake returned to her seat and poured herself some coffee.  Jessie lay her face on the stone flags... and began crying angry tears. Poor kid, Charlie thought.  Now I gotta get her out of this too.

"Now, what were we talking about?" Victoria asked pleasantly.

"Uh, letting us go?" Charlie suggested.

"No," Victoria said with an appreciative chuckle.

"The Diamondback's pitching woes?" Charlie prompted.

Victoria shook her head, smiling.

"This lovely meal?" Charlie offered, with a coy nod towards the still groaning table.

Teri was staring at her friend, aghast.  How could Charlie be joking at a time like this?

"No, my dear," Victoria said, her smile turning decidedly feral.  "I believe the topic was persuasion."