It seems our press has gotten a bit out of hand. Despite our attempts at remaining a complete secret, clients seem to keep finding us. I don’t like the fact that recently, they’ve been ex-cons. How is anyone finding out about us when we expunge the memories of our clients? Yes, we get rid of their memories of us, naturally. I feel as though I am failing on the secrecy front. That is my job, and I have to make sure this gets contained. Someone, somewhere among our client list was either a mole, or their erasure didn’t take. I have to find out who that is, or our entire organization will be threatened. There are too many people interested in anything that someone else doesn’t have. If that weren’t enough, we are talking about life-changing technology and therapy that a lot of people would like to use for reasons unethical at best, and horrific at their most likely applications.
My boss is a genius. Harvard Medical, top of his class, the whole nine. He is also completely naive as to the depth of depravity people would sink to be able to have these techniques and treatments. He likes to rest, I think, in the belief that nobody could make this work but him. He doesn’t seem to understand that there are many who would gladly kill us all in trying. I finally convinced Dr. Nathaniel to hire some real guns last year. He now employs two ex-military security men. David is quiet, practical, and always knows what’s going on with our meetings and clients. Most importantly, he keeps the doctor physically safe. Zeng is our tech guru and details man. His main job is to monitor previous clients for at least a year, at intervals, to make sure they are living normal, happy lives. Any of them start exhibiting changes in behavior and patterns, and Zeng zeroes in and begins serious surveillance.
My job is to profile the right kind of clients, and to bring them into the information and education process. I help do background checks into their stories, lives, and friends. Zeng and I work as closely as we can on this. In the beginning, before we had over twenty previous clients, he was an equal partner in acquisitions, and his teachings were invaluable. So, I miss us being able to collaborate on each case. As it is now, I compile files on potential patients, and sling them onto Zeng’s desk for approval. From there, they go to the doctor and David, but mostly the doctor. If either of them have any concerns or misgivings, they then get looked over much more thoroughly by Zeng. I truly respect and admire him. If he were to have to go over a file again, I’d feel as though I had let him down a bit. I hate that feeling. He has a way of looking at me with those clear, gray eyes and giving me a cool undoing. He is able to completely detach himself from any emotional ties he may have to me-or anyone-and be all business. It’s utterly disconcerting. I can almost forget these are the same eyes that assessed me with nothing but warmth and desire last summer. I digress.
It seems that lately we have been too busy with work to even think about summer soirees, passionate interludes, or even a decent sit-down dinner. I really need to talk with him as soon as possible, though. We have to all be of one mind as to how to proceed to find the leak. After Zeng helps me put a plan together, we will approach Dr. Nathaniel.
But first, we do have a potential client meeting soon that I must attend. As many of our clients come to us, this one comes from the good doctor himself. Through his normal therapy practice, he happens upon patients whose histories and trauma are of such a severe nature, he deems them eligible for further treatment. Erasure.
Back in the bedroom, because Drew will be coming home from his night shift at the plant. I like to make myself available . Drew tiptoed through the bedroom and eased into bed. He is always considerate of me. He knows I’ve been at working a lot lately. He believes that I work in an office, filing. Basic and boring. He loves me in spite of it, and I him. I am glad that Zeng and I never really amounted to more than a summer night. It was a great summer night, but this is what I need. Drew nestles close to me, and brings his hand to rest gently on my hip. I turn to look at him. The moonlight is bright through the open blinds. His eyes are closed, but I know he’s not asleep yet. I smooth my hand down his face. He smiles. I continue to trace the outline of his collarbone, his ribs, down to his hip. “Well, hello.”
” Hi, yourself, Mister. Miss me?” He has an amazing way with nipples that always gets me steamed up. I know where to touch him to elicit his subtle moans. I stroke his long, lean thighs, the sexy hip bone that juts out just enough, and his warm patch of soft hair surrounding that smooth, exquisitely hard part of him I cannot seem to get enough of.
We spent the whole evening together, doing nothing more than making love, and eating large quantities of ice cream, salami, and bagels with cream cheese. I love our time together after amazing lovemaking . It draws us so close. I also enjoy the unstoppable grins we both have, knowing that we just rocked each other’s world. Drew had to go back to work at six in the evening. So he was going to sleep the day away. I gave a call to Zeng to find out what he knew about our latest potential client.
“Zeng, hi. Ok, so- tell me what you know”. He sounded tired, but in a good enough mood. ” I wish I had more to tell you, but Nate is keeping the details of this pretty close to his chest. I don’t know why. ” ‘ How did this ex-con find out about us? Obviously this a client of Nate’s?” “Yes. That much I do know. And it’s a woman. In this case, she’s out because of DNA testing . It’s not her guilty conscious she wants to get rid of. I thought the same thing. It’s what the guards and other inmates did to her over twelve long years… now you on board?”
“Oh, Jesus. I sighed. “Yeah, so far, so good. You gonna be at the meeting?”
“Alright. See you then.”
So, this was a big relief . I didn’t have to worry about this ex-con being some kind of a leak. I had a pretty good idea of who this was. Seeing almost everyone who comes into the office to see Dr. Nathaniel does make me privy to who the clients are, and why they are there. Nancy Stillman was a fairly recent patient who looked like the walking dead. She had a huge scar across her cheek, thinning black hair, and an unnaturally strong deferment to perceived authority.
My greatest concern were the last couple of contacts to us which were fairly random. I dismissed them. I still needed to figure out where they got our info, since those last two were not from the doctor, but rather e-mails that both Zeng and I received that were traced to the library and a local community college. We were not private investigators, and we had little to go on, but we needed to find out how anyone found out about us. I was kicking myself for not immediately making contact . I needed to know more. Maybe it wasn’t too late.
I did the normal things a person does for the rest of the day, including working out at the Y., cleaning house, and throwing a ball for the dog. Drew woke up at around four. We chatted and watched some inane television shows. He showered and headed back to work. Today was not an office day for me, so I didn’t need to lie to him about where I was or what I was doing.
Morning came much too soon. A quick cup of coffee in the french press in a travel mug and a protein bar- good to go. I was wearing my favorite boots, a gift from Drew in black leather. Silver buckles cross at the ankles, and there’s just enough heel to clear mud without sinking into it. I have a tazer in the inside pocket of my coat. It’s a trench, but not black. It’s just turned Autumn, and the mornings are foggy and crisp. It’s six when Drew pulls up, and six fifteen when I pull out. I have to head to the office for some ordinary, routine work before making the drive to the meeting this afternoon.
More UNREAL soon!!