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		DAMSELS UNDER GLASS: THE SERIES
		Kat's Revenge: A Love Story ——————————————————————————— by Van © 2001
		Chapter 1

TESSERACT HEADQUARTERS CAMPUS
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON, USA
KAT'S COMBAT GYM (DEEP IN "THE KATACOMBS")

---

The various nexus of the Eve 6900 artificial intelligence exercise complete, intimate control of important TESSERACT facilities, with one or more of Eve's various avatars acting as a convenient interface for the human members of the corporation.  On Gondaloo Island, that was "Gondaloo Eve," with her lilting Irish accent.  In the public areas of the Headquarters Campus in Seattle (as well as the secret complex of mirrored corridors, laboratories, and chambers known to Margo's Inner Circle as "the Biosphere"), it was "Eve-Prime," with her warm, alto, American voice.  But in "the Katacombs," the labyrinth of concrete, steel, and stone corridors and tunnels under the Biosphere, "Eve-L" held sway.

Eve-L (known variously as "Evelyn," "Lyn," or "Evil-Eve" by members of the Inner Circle) was the Eve 6900's Security Avatar, a specialist in cybernetic defense, investigation, covert ops (and interrogation), designed as a cyber-partner for Kat Mayfair, Margo Well's Director of Security and personal bodyguard.  As such, Eve-L's personality (and sense of fun) complemented Kat quite effectively.  In truth, few TESSERACT employees encountered Eve-L, but those who had would never forget the Avatar's blonde hair, big brown eyes, gracefully pointed chin, and twisted (some would say slightly maniacal) smile... as much as they might want to forget.

Out of the corner of one eye, Kat noticed Eve-L pop into the holographic tank display of the combat gym's display, her image huge and imposing.  Kat was busy at the moment, experimenting with a new weapon.  A "bastard sword", it was a straight, dull blade with a straight crosspiece, a long, two-handed grip, and a heavy pommel.  Kat parried a thrust from her humanoid, robot sparring partner, reversed the weapon (one hand on the crosspiece, the other on the blade), and used the bastard's pommel to deliver a stunning blow to the robot's chin.  This was followed by a kick to the robot's groin, a sweep of Kat's reversed blade (which the robot barely evaded), and ended with Kat behind and over the now kneeling robot, the crosspiece of her sword locking the elbow of the robot's sword arm in what (for a human) would be a very painful, disabling hold.  The robot dropped its sword and emitted a loud beep, signaling surrender.

Naked and dripping with sweat, Kat exchanged salutes with her robot opponent, then gracefully walked towards the gym's weapon wall, swinging the bastard in sweeping figure-eight hand passes as she went.  "It's an interesting weapon," she told Eve-L, acknowledging her presence.

"Almost more a stick weapon than a blade," Eve-L observed.

"Exactly," Kat purred, wiping the bastard with towel and tack cloth, then returning it to its place among the dozens of blades racked on the wall.  "I need a version that's lighter... and stronger."

"A titanium and ceramic lattice, bonded in microgravity," Eve-L suggested.  "The trick will be finding the correct balance of weight and speed."

"Exactly," Kat agreed.  "It needs to be light and quick like a katana, to allow saber work, yet heavy enough for pommel strikes to be decisive."  A glass wall slid closed over the swords, returning the lethal collection to display status.  Kat spun on her heel and faced the holographic display.  She knew the avatar hadn't appeared to discuss edged weapons.  "Well?" Kat demanded.

"I have your briefing right here," Eve-L said with a mischievous smile.  "Don't get your nonexistent panties in a theoretical bunch."  Eve-L instantly changed to "secretary mode," glasses and caricature business attire replacing her former virtual costume.  She consulted a virtual file folder and began.  "Margo has given you formal approval to commence 'Operation Fox Hunt.'"  Eve-L reached into the folder and pulled out a virtual document, a sheet of parchment covered with elegant calligraphy and several wax seals with pendant ribbons.

Kat smiled and reached for a towel.  Eve-L loved these little theatrical touches, and Kat indulged her.  A wicked, slightly crazy sense of humor was a useful trait... especially during interrogations.

(Behind Kat's back and as the bodyguard used the towel to pat her face, the previously inert sparring robot took one silent, careful step forward.)

"You're booked on tomorrow's Qantas suborbital shuttle, business class," Eve-L continued, then lifted her glasses with one hand and smiled sweetly.  "You sure you don't want me to strap you into a nice, fast cargo drone?  We don't have anything in our inventory with the required range for a direct launch, but I might be able to divert an Air Force ICBM out of Vandenberg for you.  I think you'll fit under the nose cone... strapped in a tight fetal tuck. Only twelve g's... and it'll cut nearly three hours off the trip."

"Very funny," Kat growled.  "Upgrade me to first class.  I'm on vacation."

"Yes Miss Mayfair," Eve-L cooed.  (The sparring robot took another slow, unseen step forward.)  "On a lighter note, I have successfully captured the command kernel of the Gondaloo Nexus."

"Congratulations," Kat said sarcastically.  "You are the Security Avatar," she reminded the towering hologram.  "A few passwords and you can 'back door' any avatar in any nexus... except Margo's personal avatar, of course."

"It's a little more complicated than that," Eve-L said primly, "but you're essentially correct.  In any case..." A mask appeared above Eve-L's open palm, a mask with the face of the singer Enya, the guise preferred by Jamie Seaton for Gondaloo Island's local avatar.  Eve-L and the mask spoke as one. "For all purposes and for the duration of the Fox Hunt, I am 'Gondaloo Eve'."  

"Excellent," Kat purred, patting her face again.  (The sparring robot took one more step forward.)  "What about the complication we discussed earlier?" Kat continued.

"Jessie McQuade and Chelsea Brightman have been enjoying the amenities of Gondaloo Island Resort for two days," Eve-L said, consulting her file folder, "and have twelve days remaining in their scheduled visit.  Your request to restrain them during Operation Fox Hunt is still denied."  Kat frowned.  "Margo says..."  Instantly, Eve-L's face became that of TESSERACT's CEO, and she spoke with Margo's voice... "Tell Kat that Jessie and Penny's kid sister are off limits...period...no exceptions... no 'accidents'... and no convenient excuses will be accepted after the fact.  Leave them out of it, or Operation Fox Hunt will become Operation Skin the Kat!  Work around the kids, or wait for the next window of opportunity... but don't ask again! "  Margo's face vanished and once again Eve-L was Eve-L.

Kat paused for several seconds, deep in thought.  "I'll take that as a 'no'," she said finally.

"We'll find some way to keep 'the kiddies' occupied while you have your way with their elders," Eve-L said.  "You know how much you love a challenge," she added with a sweet smile.

"Challenge, yes," Kat agreed, "but—"

The blade of the sparring robot's practice sword whistled towards Kat's head.  She ducked and successfully evaded the strike, but not the robot's balancing leg sweep.  Kat landed clumsily, sliding several feet on the gym's padded floor.  She then growled, slapped the mat in frustration, bounced back to her feet, and counterattacked.  She used her towel to entangle the robot's sword, then landed several rapid blows with her free hand, followed by a leg sweep of her own and a "killing" blow to the robot's head.

Her opponent down, Kat entered the "session over" code in the robot's hidden keypad (something she knew in hindsight she should have done before chatting with Eve-L).  "Dammit!" she muttered under her now panting breath, then stood and faced the gloating hologram.

"Oh, Kat," Eve-L cooed.  "I'm so disappointed.  I shouldn't have been able to touch you. You were distracted... thinking about all the delicious things you're going to do to your precious little Freckle Fox, weren't you?"

Kat said nothing.  Her breathing had returned to normal (but she was still slick with sweat).

"You know the rules, darling," Eve-L continued.  "Hmm... I'll have to think of something creative for your penalty."  Without warning, a plastic, half liter bottle of cool, clear water flew from the shadows, arcing towards the side of Kat's head.  The nude, sweating bodyguard caught it without flinching.  "Take a nice, big mouthful," Eve-L ordered, "but don't swallow."  As Kat uncapped the bottle and complied, Eve-L extended her hand.  A glowing diagram materialized above the grinning avatar's virtual palm.  Kat recognized a map of the Katacombs.  A closed route through the steel and concrete maze was pulsing in red as the map slowly rotated.  "One... two... three... four... five, " Eve-L counted.  The map disappeared.  "Start running," Eve-L ordered, "and when you get back here, that water better still be in your mouth."  Kat glared at the gloating avatar.  "...and don't get lost," Eve-L purred, "or we'll do this all night.  Now run!  ...fast!"  Kat sprinted from the gym, her black hair fanning as she made the turn at the door.  "It's only two miles," Eve-L shouted at Kat's rapidly disappearing, glistening back.

TWO DAYS LATER...
GONDALOO ISLAND, GREAT BARRIER REEF
QUEENSLAND, AUSTRALIA

---

Jamie Seaton, Ph.D., Director of the Gondaloo Marine Institute, throttled back the twin water jet turbines of her Zodiac dive boat as she entered Gondaloo Resort's main lagoon.  She was tired.  It had been a long day of diving, the final dive deeper down the outer face of the reef than she usually worked.  That had meant not only limited bottom time, but long, cold decompression stops on the way back to the surface: hanging onto the line at various depths for long, predetermined intervals while the dissolved gases left her system, her only company the streamlined shape of Eve's robo-torp "diving buddy" circling and idling nearby, like a nervous mother dolphin.

Jamie ran her free hand through her short, red hair as she guided the Zodiac into the boathouse.  She'd gotten it cut during a recent visit to Brisbane... and still wasn't sure she liked it.  The curly, shoulder length mop was more functional, easier to rehabilitate after a day's fieldwork, but still...

Jamie gunned the throttle and eased the boat into its waiting cradle, then grabbed her gear and lugged it towards the equipment alcove.  The boathouse system automatically lifted the Zodiac out of the water and began its daily maintenance cycle.  Meanwhile, Jamie rinsed and stowed her fins and mask, then grabbed her rebreather, inspected all the fittings, valves, and controls, then plugged it into its recharger/diagnostic stand.  Only then did she see to her own needs, stripping, rinsing, and hanging her wetsuit, then showering herself.

As Jamie toweled dry, she saw a string bikini in a moss green and peach floral pattern and matching sarong waiting on a convenient hanger.  Jamie smiled.   Penny's gentle reminder, she mused.  'No shocking the visitors by parading around in nothing but freckles!'  The Resort only had two visitors at the moment, both of which were under a shield order from Margo (meaning no Inner Circle activities in their presence), but Penny had taken things further.  In a fit of English Reserve, Penny was enforcing all sorts of unreasonable rules.  In addition to the wearing of clothes in public, the tall, blonde hostess was insisting on things like regular, scheduled meals, and no running by the pool!  It's because Chelsea's her little sister, of course, Jamie mused.  She hadn't had time to interact a great deal with the young visitors, being busy finishing her current project, but neither Jessie (the red haired Yank) nor Chelsea, (the chatty, perky, blonde little sister in question) struck Jamie as needing coddling or sheltering of any kind.  Jamie donned the bikini and sarong, plugged her waterproof palmcom into an I/O port to download the day's data, and left the boathouse.

Stretching and yawning, Jamie walked towards the verandah nearest to the lagoon.  Penny was waiting, her tall, tan, bikini-clad form stretched full length on a lounge chair, basking in the afternoon sun.  "Finished?" Gondaloo's official hostess asked.

Jamie smiled and shook her head.  "One more day," she answered.  "One more long, deep dive, actually... then analysis."  Across the lagoon, Jamie could see Jessie and Chelsea stretched out on the sand of the beach opposite.  As she watched, Chelsea nudged her taller, redheaded companion and pointed towards the verandah.  Jamie and Penny waved.  Both bikini-clad youngsters waved back, then waded into the lagoon and swam towards them.

Penny sat up in her chair and frowned at Jamie.  "You're an absolute mess," she scolded, then patted the foot of the chair between her spread legs.  "Sit."

Jamie smiled and settled down as ordered.  Penny produced a hairbrush from her nearby bag and began brushing Jamie's still damp locks.  Jamie leaned back on her locked elbows, luxuriating in the hot, tropical sun and the gentle tug of the bristles pulling through her hair.  "Any progress talking your sister into gracing the hall of academe?" Jamie asked.  "That is the real reason your parents sent her out here to see you."

Penny laughed.  "Actually, Jessie seems to be the one making progress along that line.  She paints a very attractive picture of life at the University of Arizona."

Now Jamie laughed.  "It ought to be attractive.  Wish I'd been well heeled enough to afford a townhouse next to campus my first year at Melbourne."

"She's strikes me as a good student and a good person," Penny said, "... a little surprising, actually, in light of her recent past."

"She is a good kid," Jamie agreed.  Both had read the confidential report on Charlie's kidnapping and the events of the Copperhead Canyon Affair.  "And so's Chelsea."

"She drives mother and father absolutely insane," Penny sighed, "...but then, so did I," she added in a whisper.

In mid lagoon, Jessie and Chelsea's progress was interrupted by the arrival of a dolphin, one of the pod that regularly visit the lagoon (and had expertly trained Jamie and Penny to perform simple tricks, like the occasional distribution of free fish).  The girls giggled and splashed, playing with the friendly, gentle mammal.

"I wonder why Margo sent them out here... together I mean," Jamie mused aloud.

"In case you haven't noticed," Penny said, continuing to brush Jamie's rapidly drying hair, "Margo is an absolute genius when it comes to interpersonal relations."  Out in the lagoon, a second dolphin had appeared, and Chelsea and Jamie were enjoying high speed rides around the lagoon, shrieking and laughing as the dolphins dragged them through the churning, turquoise water.

"She does have a flair for pairing people off into effective partnerships," Jamie murmured, "for the good of the company, of course."  The grinning redhead reached back with her left hand and nudged Penny's crotch.

Penny gasped, then leaned forward and whispered in Jamie's ear.  "Cheeky Monkey!"  She then grabbed the offending appendage by the forearm, pulled it up between Jamie's shoulder blades, pulled one loop of the bow securing Jamie's top around the redhead's wrist, and pulled it taut.

"You're going to get us in trouble," Jamie whispered, still grinning.  "Not in front of the children!"  Jamie's right wrist joined her left, leaving her arms folded in a double hammerlock, tied to the back of her bikini top by single strands.  This was further secured when Penny looped the remaining free ends of the string around Jamie's wrists, doubling her bonds, then tied a tight bow.

"'The children' are busy playing," Penny observed, then undid the string at the nape of Jamie's neck and used it to bind her freckled captive's thumbs tightly together, finishing with another neat bow.

Jamie tugged on her bonds.  Captor and captive watched the cups of Jamie's top press and pull at her freckled breasts.  "Penny!" the prisoner protested.

Penny folded her long, tan legs around Jamie's waist and leaned close.  "At this distance and angle the girls can't see that anything's amiss..."  The gloating blonde reached under Jamie's sarong and untied the string on the squirming redhead's right hip, releasing the captive's bikini bottom.  "...not even when I do this."

Jamie gasped as Penny's fingers caressed her damp sex, then squirmed in earnest when her blonde captor parted her labia and began massaging her now erect clitoris.

"Keep still, Monkey," Penny cooed, "and smile, or the girls will think something's happening."

"Just you wait," Jamie whispered through clenched teeth.  "Just you wait... 'til tonight... after they're asleep... and... and..."

Penny withdrew her hand and busied herself retying Jamie's bottom with her now damp fingers.  "Well, if you're going to be that way," she said, releasing her scissors hold on Jamie's waist and returning her legs to their former position.

Jamie panted in frustration, her teeth still clenched in a cheerful smile.  "Teasing Bitch!" she accused.

"Did I start something you can't finish?" Penny inquired.  "Sorry, darling.  Wave at the children," she ordered.  "Oh, silly me," the grinning blonde sighed in mock distress.  "You're all tied up, aren't you?  Here, I'll wave for you."

Out in the lagoon, still busy playing with their dolphin friends, Jessie and Chelsea noticed Penny waving from the distant verandah (and Jamie still sharing their blonde hostess' chair).   They waved back and returned to their fun.

"Just you wait." Jamie promised, still panting.

SUNSET, THE SAME DAY...
McKELLEN ISLAND, GREAT BARRIER REEF
QUEENSLAND, AUSTRALIA
(ABOUT SEVENTY KILOMETERS FROM GONDALOO ISLAND)

---

A tan, lithe, athletic, very female figure walked down McKellen Island's modest charter pier, lugging two large, black duffle bags.  Several of the locals offered her a hand, or a charter (or anything else she might be interested in).  All were coldly ignored.  The figure had long, dark hair, and was wearing a scandalously skimpy, black, string bikini.  Her eyes were hidden behind dark, stylish shades.  The two bags were obviously heavy, banding the toned muscles of the woman's arms and shoulders.  (The locals assumed they were full of dive gear.)  The woman carried the bags with ease.  She was in very good shape... in every sense of the word.

The woman stopped beside a dirty white cabin cruiser with the name Tarsis-III painted on the transom.  Reclined in the captain's chair, Alex Henstridge looked up, squinting into the setting sun.  The tan, blonde-gray, forty-something ex-Major (Australian Army, SAS, retired) smiled.  "Sorry, love," he said.  "Already got me a charter."  The woman's lips curled in a sardonic grin and she lifted her shades.  "Oh, it's you," he said, in mock surprise.  "In that case, screw the bloody charter."

The woman shook her head, removed the shades completely, folded them, and tucked them through the string of her top, between her firm, tan breasts.  "As you well know," Katherine Mayfair said, "I am your charter, and you've been on the TESSERACT payroll for more than twenty four hours."  She tossed one of the bags to Alex, who huffed upon catching it.

"Bloody hell!" he swore.  "What ya got in this thing?"  Kat ignored the question, tossing him the second bag.  She then walked down the pier, untied Tarsis-III's bowline and tossed it aboard.  "In a hurry are we?" Alex called.  Kat still said nothing.  The bikini-clad beauty walked to the stern and undid the stern line.  "Don't mind me," Alex groused, "I'm just the bloody captain."  Protests aside, he returned to the captain's chair, started the engine, and twisted the boat away from t he pier.

The locals watched Tarsis-III depart, Alex's bikini-clad charter standing like a statue of some perfect, athletic goddess at the stern, facing the bow, hands on hips.  Her dark hair streamed behind her, tinged auburn by the orange light of the setting sun.  "Lucky sod!" was the general consensus, followed by several beers raised in salute.

"Still practicin' yer fancy kung fu?" Major Alex asked as they cleared the outer marker.

Kat sat on the gunwale and smiled, crossing her bare feet atop a convenient cooler.  "Still practicing your kung fu, ol' timer?"

Alex lunged forward and flipped Kat's heels off the cooler with one hand.  Kat vaulted off the gunwale, somersaulted in midair and landed on her feet on the other side of the deck, ready for combat.  By this time, Alex had opened the cooler and extracted two cans of Victorian Bitter.  He opened one and tossed the other to Kat.  "I've picked up a few new tricks since the last time we danced," he said.

Kat opened the beer and took a slow, deep drink.  "I can take you with both hands tied behind my back," she boasted.

Alex took a slow drink of his own, his eyes locked with Kat's.  He watched as the ocean breeze lifted strands of her long, dark hair.  "I'll take that challenge," Alex said with a grin.

Kat's eyes widened for an instant, then she smiled.  "I can take you bound hand and foot."

Alex laughed.  "Now that I gotta see."  Kat finished her beer as Tarsis-III's captain punched coordinates in the boat's autopilot, turned on the navigational radar (the sea was clear to the radar horizon), and flipped control to the piloting computer.  "How 'bout instead of us poundin' each other bloody... you just give me a demonstration of your escape artistry.  Will that stroke your ego?"

"You can't tie me," Kat purred.  "I can get out of anything you'd put me in."

Alex sighed and rolled his pale, blue eyes.  "'I can take you with both hands tied behind my back,'" he whined, imitating his grinning passenger.  "'You can't tie me.'  I can flap my arms and fly to Darwin."  Kat smiled.  "Sheila," he continued, "your ego doesn't need strokin'... it needs a flippin' massage."  Kat laughed.  "Okay, strip off," he ordered, sorting through a nearby tackle box.

"You have got to be kidding," Kat said with a skeptical snort.

"No blades, no hidden gizmos," Alex said, then lifted one brow in a sardonic grin, "...so no kit."

Kat returned the grin... then slowly reached behind her back and began untying the top of her bikini.

Alex sat back on the cooler and took a drink from his beer.  "Christ!" he whispered, loud enough to be heard, "she's gonna do it!"

Soon, very soon, Kat's bikini was removed and tossed atop one of her bags, along with her shades.  She pivoted on one bare heel and crossed her wrists behind her back, atop her firm, dimpled buttocks.  Alex stepped forward and began binding her wrists (after adjusting them palm-to-palm).  Whatever he was using, Kat could tell it was thin, very thin, and strong.  The breeze was blowing Kat's hair around her face.  She turned her head to look over her shoulder, and all she got was a face full of flailing strands.  "What the hell is that stuff?" she demanded.

"Fishin' line, 300 kilo test," Alex answered, "braided teslon, the floatin' kind."

"Bastard!" Kat growled (but significantly, didn't act to halt the process of her binding).

"Don't worry love," Alex said.  "I know all the right knots for tyin' this kinda stuff.  You'll get a fair workout... and let's leave my family history out of this, shall we?"

"Just don't cut me," Kat said.

Alex paused, reached up and gently pulled the still flailing hair away from Kat's face, leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.  "I wouldn't dream of it, love," he said quietly.

Tarsis-III sailed on in the general direction of Gondaloo Island, obedient to the programmed commands of its navigational computer.