Silverback

Leave or Listen

Sarah wanted to know immediately what was going on, but it was obvious that he wasn’t willing to tell her tonight.  Allowing him to lead, she walked braced against his side through the kitchen to a narrow set of stairs. 

“This used to be passage for the chef and his staff.  This hotel was quite well-known in the late twentieth century.  The depression caused business to wane and it fell into disrepair, so we bought it.  I left many of the original features when I renovated it.  There are initials of former staff and guests carved in some of the brick work leading from the Sulfur Springs at the back of the property.”  He elaborated details about the property in an attempt to distract her from her worries.

Sarah wasn’t really listening though.  There was a ringing in her ears that always started when she was over-stressed.  She could hear his voice and feel the vibration of the sound on the side of her body where their torsos pressed together. 

“Michael, I-I-I don’t know what you are saying.  Forgive me for asking, but will you please just shut up?”

He tightened his grip on her gently in affirmation as they entered a long, wide hallway.  The carpet was a five-foot wide run of deep royal blue with an ornate pattern of cherubs enjoying a garden of roses, gardenias, and wildflowers as a boarder for the edges.  Its beauty took Sarah’s breath away.  

Feeling her response to it, Michael stopped leading and allowed her to appreciate its beauty.  Sarah stepped to the boarder and stooped down to take in the detail of it.  Reaching down and stroking it gently, she turned her head to look at him.  Without a word, she turned back and traced her finger around a few of the flowers and one of the cherub’s wings. She then stood back and waited for his arm to surround her waist. They walked together past nineteen doors and stopped in front of the twentieth, the final door in the hallway.

 “Here we are.” He said as he turned the bronze colored knob and pushed the white three panel door open. 

Sarah entered the room first and noticed the room seemed to be at least the size of four. She turned to him. “How is this room so large?”

“The last few doors that we passed in the hallway weren’t really doors. They just give the illusion of rooms.  I had them bricked in to expand my personal suite.  The bathroom is over there to your left.  There is a robe in the closet.  Please take it. It is yours.  Would you like me to draw your bath?”

“Michael, I think a shower would be best.  At this point, I might drown in a tub.  Thank you for the offer of the robe, but I will wear my own clothes to bed.  That would make me more comfortable.”

“As you wish.” He said though he already knew her clothes must be burned.  If the police brought dogs in to search for her, no trace of her scent could remain.  “You will find all of the toiletries in the drawers of the vanity next to the closet of the bathroom.  I will give you privacy by fetching a bottle of wine from the cellar.  Do you have a preference?”

Relieved at the thought of taking another shower and being given a moment to clear her mind Sarah didn’t hesitate to answer him.  “Semi-sweet, or Port, thank you.”

“I have a wonderful Port for you to try. I will be back with the bottle and some Fourme d’Ambert in half an hour.  Will that give you enough time?”

“Yes, thank you.”

As she approached the bathroom doorway, she heard the door of the suite close behind her, followed by the metallic sound of a key in the lock.  The thought that he may have locked her in crossed her mind, but she didn’t want to test it. If he did, she knew she might start to panic.  At this point, denial was better. 

Sarah opened the closet door.  Hanging to her left were a variety of feminine dresses, mostly in shades of pink or red.  She reached out and took one off of the rack, its yellow on pink floral pattern with high-waist and double skirt reminded her of dresses from an earlier time in history.  Was it the 1940s or 50’s? she wondered as she hung it back and took down another. The second was a brilliant red with a deep vee neck flanked in flowing ruffles and an asymmetrically cut shirt.  It was modern.  She hung it back and casually slid the dresses apart, paging through inspecting them one-by-one.  She noted that though they were all beautiful, the styles spanned across eras of fashion from Coco Chanel to Gianni and Donatella Versace.  It was an eclectic collection chosen by someone with very good, very expensive taste.

But right now her aim was pajamas and a robe.  She told Michael that she would put her clothes back on to sleep, but she knew they held blood spatter among other evidence that would make it impossible for her to be seen in them tomorrow. She would have to wash them tonight.

Before going to get their nightcap, Michael told her that her robe was in a drawer.  Turing to her right, a tall bureau made of a brushed steel with a pair of pearl handle pulls for each of the eight rows of drawers.stood against the back wall. Looking up she could see a keyhole at the bottom, right edge of the top two.

“What are you locking up in there Michael?” she asked herself. “I’ll have to find that out later when I locate the key.  Oh, and a step-stool.”  She giggled tiredly at her own joke.  The five foot four height that she claimed on her license, would not allow her to see inside the top three drawers without a boost, even if the top two wouldn't have required a key.

She pulled the handles on the fourth one from the top.  It glided out with minimal effort.  At chin height, she was just able to see inside.  The undergarments were a variety of men’s boxers, mostly gun metal blue.  The color and style fit Michael perfectly.  They were just like the pair she helped him out of the first night that they saw each other in the flesh.  She managed to escape that night with nothing more happening then or since between them except his curiously deep kisses. Her body started to warm at the thought of his form silhouetted in the window back-lit by the storm.

“This is not the time, Sarah.” She scolded herself back to the present.

She gently closed the draw and pulled out the next one down in the series. The undergarments were definitely ladies’ this time.  It looked like he had stolen a draw directly out of a Victoria’s Secret.  The silk, satin, and lace panties with matching bras were neatly organized in rows by color.  She would have a choice of white, nude, light pink, pale blue, red, navy or black.  That is, if they fit.

She pulled a modest nude set from the drawer to check the size.  The bikini cut panties were size large; the matching t-shirt bra was a thirty-six B. 

“Odd.”

She moved towards the drawer and gently maneuvered the bras one-at-a-time. 

“Thirty-six B, thirty-six B, thirty-six B.  Hmmmmm.” She knew before she looked at the panties that they were all going to be her size as well.  Curious she left the drawer open and turned back to the dresses.  The sizes were not consistent like the lingerie, but her size varied by the style and designer.  All of them looked like they would fit.

"What the hell?" she murmured considering the intimate knowledge that it would have taken to select them.

A shiver travelled through her body.  She knew that the wardrobe wasn’t a coincidence. Getting out of here tomorrow morning would be a priority.  Knowing that she was likely to wind up in prison if she returned to her apartment, she was going to have to do a fair bit of planning.  The first thing she needed to do was to decipher the meaning behind what Michael told her earlier tonight. After that she could decide if risking prison would be her best move.

“I won’t need you tonight.” Sarah said to the nude t-shirt bra as she tucked it back into its place in the lingerie drawer.  She slid the drawer shut and pulled the pearl handles on the next one down in the column. Inside she found a white terrycloth robe folded next to multiple satin, silk, and lace night gowns. The gowns were hardly the style that she would feel comfortable in, so she pulled out the cozy robe revealing another that looked stolen from a costume trailer on the set of “Dallas”.

“Oh my, I won’t ever be wearing that one.” She shook her head and shut the drawer.

Moving her hands down to the next she pulled it open and sighed. “Finally!”

The drawer held several sets of shorts with matching sports bras and t-shirts.  “This is more like it.” 

A slate grey pair of running shorts with a baby blue and grey striped Under armor shirt was the least girly so she selected that set without bothering to look at the size.  Sliding that drawer shut, she opened the final two drawers to see what was in them.  The second from the bottom contained socks and jeans.

“Well, that’s an odd combo” she said plucking out a pair of white athletic socks that would hit her just below the knees. “These should help me ward him off a bit.” She laughed nervously to herself hoping that the statement would hold true.

The final drawer held a variety of sweatpants and sweatshirts.  As she was sliding it closed, she noticed a faded red hoodie.  The color was familiar and made her instantly uneasy.  It was the same as one that went missing from her office months ago. 

She dropped the bundle of clothing that she was holding to the floor and dug out the sweatshirt to take a better look.

 “What is he doing with this?  When was he in my office?” she gasped after unfolding it revealing her company logo. INVICTA, embroidered on the chest with its distinctive test tube for the second “I”. 

“That doesn’t really prove anything though, does it?” she said continuing her conversation with herself.  “This couldn’t be mine.  You can buy these almost anywhere.” She said knowing that wasn’t true. 

She had the habit of always cutting the tags out of her clothing so they wouldn’t scratch against the back of her neck.

“Let’s have a look at the tag.” She opened the collar.  No tag. It was hers.  Her hands started to tremble uncontrollably as she clumsily folded the hoodie and stuffed in under the other sweatshirts.

“Did you find what you needed?”

Sarah shoved the drawer back in place, took a deep breath, and scooped up the bundle of clothes from the floor.  “Yes, this is quite some wardrobe.” She stated in a complimentary tone before standing and turning to face him.

“It can’t have been half an hour already, can it?’ she asked forcing down her nervous energy, hoping he didn’t detect the quivering in her voice.

“No, it’s been about twenty minutes.  When I reached the wine cellar it occurred to me that I didn’t demonstrate the controls for the shower. The heads are currently set for my height and s*x.  That wouldn’t be of optimum effectiveness for you.  Let me show you the panel and teach you how to program it for yourself.”

“I understand why a difference in height might cause an issue, but what difference could it make that I am a woman?” she blurted out wishing she hadn’t asked.

“The features of this shower allow a certain level of…relaxation to be obtained.”

She said covering her face with the bundle of clothes. “I really don’t want to know what it can do.  I just want to be clean please.”

“We shall go over that part another day then.”  He stepped out of the closet and held his hand in the direction of the shower.

Sarah crossed in front of him and felt his hand gently touch the small of her back.

“The panel is a touch screen.  It is waterproof, so if you forget to program it before stepping in you can still safely adjust it.” He advised as he stepped in front of her and slid his fingers across a black screen embedded in the wall next to the glass-encased shower. 

A video of waves rolling on an unbelievably blue ocean rose and crashed back on themselves. 

“Beautiful isn’t it? I took that video myself in Bali. I will take you to see them first-hand very soon.” He promised.

“Why? Do you think that I can’t be extradited from Indonesia?” She asked missing his point.

“We are going to be free to travel the Earth in the time of Lourdi.  But we aren’t discussing this tonight though.” He ended as he brushed his index finger across the screen a second time.

A list of commands lined the page with a speaker icon on the top right corner.  He tapped it once and was answered by a female digital voice with an Aussie accent. “How are you tonight Michael?”

“Charlotte, I have a guest who will be enjoying your services this evening.”

“My pleasure, I am setting the shower heads for her dimensions.  One moment.” answered the bot.

“Why did you assume that my guest was a female, Charlotte?” He asked already knowing the answer but wanting Sarah to have an idea of just how well she would be protected while in his home.

“Your guest is Sarah Anne Winstrom. She is an analyst for INVICTA.  I recognized her from her photo in the company database.  To verify I matched her fingerprints from the kitchen. Her biometrics matched 100%”

Sarah’s eyes opened wide, “Wait? How?”

There are several surfaces throughout this location that have been designed as bio-collection points.  The island appears to be simple stainless steel.  It is not.”

“Are you filming me too?” Sarah turned and eyed Michael.  “I don’t think I’ll be taking a shower.  Thank you anyway, Charlotte.” Sarah stated sarcastically at the computer screen before pushing past Michael and heading for the bedroom door.

“Wait.” Michael said as stepped in behind her and grasp her waist.

Sarah spun in his hands, “Unbelievable!”

“Yes.” He said in a soothing tone that was meant to calm her.  “I am sure that this is, uhhh,….overwhelming for you.  The time to discuss it is tomorrow.  Enjoy your shower.  If it makes you feel any better, I will not watch the video feed tonight.”

Sarah closed her eyes and drew in a long breath through her nose.  She held it in and thought about the origin of the blood spatter on her clothes. She opened her eyes, pushed her tongue against the back of her front teeth and let the air escape her lungs across her rolled tongue.  It was a form of breathing that was supposed to bring calm.

“Okay. You win again.  Please leave the room so that I can get into the shower.” Sarah said to Michael’s chest.  She didn’t want to see the look of victory or possibly a smirk on his face if there was one so she kept her chin level to the ground.

Michael obeyed and left the room without uttering a sound, closing the door behind him.

Sarah moved back in front of the black computer screen and rubbed her finger across it as Michael demonstrated moments ago.  The blue ocean waves rolled from left to right.  Sarah tapped the screen again and the menu appeared.  Instead of following Michael's lead and touching the speaker icon, she read the list of commands searching for anything that referenced the cameras.

She hovered her finger near, but not touching each item as she read down the list. “Hmmm, not shower head angle, not experience type, not intensity of water pressure, music genre, nope, speaker volume. Ugh.”

Not finding what she’d hoped she touched the speech enable option on the top corner. “Hello, Sarah, you must have changed your mind.”

Despite feeling uneasy that the computer used her name and remembered what she said to it earlier about not showering, she spoke back to it as if it were human.  “Charlotte, is there a control on the panel to turn off the cameras in this room?”

“Yes." Charlotte returned in her electronic Aussie accent.

"Please turn all cameras in this room off." 

"I am sorry. Only Michael controls security. As our guest, you have limited access to comfort level and entertainment functions. He has already set us up to recognize your voice in this house.  He can override you with voice command, any of his devices or directly through one of my screens.”

“Charlotte, it sounds as if you might be bragging or was that supposed to be a warning?.” Sarah prodded the bot.

“We are state of the art.  We will be launching this technology world-wide in advance of Lordi.” Charlotte responded skirting the question.

“Charlotte, when is Lordi?”

“The countdown device is cloaked, Sarah.  I do not have the answer.”

Sarah shook her head slightly in defeat, but happy in the fact that the house could be controlled through texting.  Now she would have to figure out just how to access one of Michael’s devices.  He probably used biometrics combined with a passcode.  Tomorrow she would have to note his every move.

“Charlotte, please set the shower for very warm, but not hot, medium pressure, higher pressure on my back.”

“As you wish.  Might I suggest a pulsating massage for your neck and shoulders with some music to relax you?”

“Please.”

The water immediately spayed from the heads as light techno music piped from every corner of the room engulfing her in sound.  She recognized whale songs echoing along with the instruments that perfectly portrayed the movements of a pod.  She wondered if Michael had recorded the whale songs when he captured the wave video that was Charlotte's screen saver.

Sarah closed her eyes and took four more cleansing breaths then started to undress by slipping off her blue mesh New Balance running shoes without untying them.  Standing erect again she opened her eyes and turned to the mirrored wall opposite Charlotte’s panel.

“Wow, you look like Hell.” She said to herself as she leaned in and touched the dark ring under her left eye.  She shook her head again and stepped back.  Grasping the bottom of her grimy yellow sweatshirt her fingers met the crusty, rust-colored blotches.  The blood from when Lawrence shot his partner in her apartment almost twelve hours ago had long since dried. Even though it was proof of what happened, the whole night was surreal.  She’d have to read about it tomorrow because her mind was repressing the details. 

One thing that she did know for certain was that the police would be searching for her. There was a crowd when she was loaded into the back of Lawrence’s car. At that point, there was only one dead cop.  Now there were two.  She would face the death penalty if they caught her. 

“Michael won’t let that happen.” Sarah told herself as she stretched the shirts over her head.  “I’m going to have to trust him.”

Sarah stood in the glass enclosure and relaxed in the sensations of the water pulsating on her skin.  She closed her eyes and allowed the jets to cleanse her face then leaned forward to direct their spray onto the back of her neck.

“Mmmmmm, I needed that.” She reassured herself as she wiped her hands over her eyes to clear away any remnants of mascara.

Michael entered the room stealthfully and attempted to watch but she noticed his shadow crossing the mirror. “Get OUT!” she yelled pointing toward in the direction of the door.

“Sorry to disturb you ma’am” returned a smooth, unfamiliar, deep voice.

Sarah’s heart raced at being in such a vulnerable position in front of a stranger.

“When you get finished with your shower. We need to talk.” Said the man before turning and leaving the bathroom.

“Charlotte, jets off please.” Sarah commanded the automated shower.  The jets and the music stopped abruptly.

“Towels are to your left.” Charlotte’s Aussie automated voice directed.

Sarah grabbed a large, thick towel and wrapped it around her hair and wrapped a second around her body.

The bathroom door swung open again.

“I’m not dressed! How dare you! Wait. You aren't Michael!”  she scolded.

“Ma’am, I am Michael. We are all, Michael. You will understand soon enough.  I must tell you that you will never see the man that brought you here again.  He made too many errors.  He lacked the level of compassion required for the age of Lordi. He was eradicated.  However, you were chosen not only by him but by two others as well. Please dress and join us downstairs.”

Sarah quickly dressed in the athletic shorts and t-shirt she found in the bureau and covered them with the white terry cloth robe. She had never seen the large man who'd just introduced himself as “Michael” to her in a strange bathroom, in a strange hotel converted to a strange wired to the hilt with technology that wasn’t even on the market yet hideaway.

What did he mean when he said, “We are all Michael”? she thought aloud. And where the hell was the other Michael. He couldn’t abandon her now, not after everything that they’d been through tonight. On a gamble, she asked the IT Control Unit of the house for an explanation before going back out into the bedroom.

“Charlotte, what did he mean by the phrase, “We are all Michael”?”

“Michael is the male representative of the Lordi system which has always been and is soon to come.” Charlotte answered in her electronic Aussie voice.

“Wh-what happened to the first Michael?”

“Michael is waiting for you downstairs.”

“B-b-b-but the man that came in here said that Michael was eradicated. What does that mean, Charlotte?”

“Michael is waiting for you downstairs.” Charlotte’s robotic voice repeated.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief though not knowing that she understood what Charlotte really meant. She would just have to go downstairs and see. She turned and looked into the mirror. Her mascara hadn’t washed off completely regardless her efforts and it smeared below her eyes like a bad 80’s video. She leaned in and rubbed it vigorously not caring if the friction caused premature wrinkling. When her face was clean, she headed to the closet to see if the wall of shoes had a pair of flip flops or better yet, tennis shoes if she needed to sneak out and run through the woods.

She swung the door wide, stepped to the drawer where she’d found the socks earlier, pulled on a pair and turned to the shoe rack. Michael, or whoever had set this closet up for her had done his due diligence. A pair of her favorite New Balance tennis shoes in blue mesh was displayed at eye level. “Perfect.” She said as she lifted them from the shelf and pulled them onto her feet not bothering to adjust the laces.

When Sarah reached the door, she opened it gingerly and peeked into the bedroom. She didn’t see anyone there, so she opened the door wide and sprinted through the room to the door that led to the hallway. She repeated her cautious entry into the empty hall and stopped at the door to the back stairs that led to the kitchen.

She started her relaxation breathing again trying to fend off the panic attack that she could feel building in her chest. “Do I leave, or do I listen? Do I leave or do I listen?” she asked herself in a measured tempo not far from Charlotte’s mechanical clip. “I will be arrested if I’m caught. Michael may be ‘eradicated’ whatever the hell that means. A stranger just went into the bathroom when I was in the shower.” She continued spilling out all of the facts. “I think that I should….” Sarah inhaled and exhaled four more times while she decided. “I will listen. I can always escape later, right? Hahaha.” She giggled nervously, not even convincing herself.