Jane Masters gets in deeper and deeper as her investigation into the Red Fist continues. And what is the secret of Room 497...?

CHAPTER TWO contnued...

I bumped into Trish on the way back to my room. She was heading for the bar and invited me along for a game of pool. Probably because of her tomboyish nature, and my, er, boyish one, we had discovered a mutual love of the stick game.

It was 16:30 and the bar was empty. She got a can of Asahi from the vending machine and I got a small bottle of chilled Sancerre. Loud music was playing on the stereo. We played three games quickly and she beat me 2-1, on the last black. I made a joke about The Ashes and we sat down. I lit a cigarette. Trish doesn't smoke.

I got on so well with Trish because I found her unpretentious and honest. She was a great beauty, like most of the girls here. Tall, with beautiful, wavy auburn hair. Open, appealing face with pale blue eyes and a strong nose. In all, very aristocratic looking, but she carried herself as though she was on her uncle's farm in the outback in dungarees mucking about by the billabong with her brother Roy. We talked about our families for a while (I gave her the "Jane Masters Story", abridged edition). Turned out that Roy had died from an AIDS related illness in Sydney the year before. Trish had cut loose after that and gone travelling, finally ending up here where her pilot's license had come in useful.

"Can't complain, y'know mate," she said, "we live in the lap of luxury here. I get to fly every day and work on my commercial license. You can't turn a blind eye to what Red Fist does forever. I suppose. Look, I won't be here forever. Just till I get myself out of a money hole - and I guess you have to put up with the downside," she said, grimacing and twanging the strap of her navy blue catsuit's halter.

I looked down at my own shiny red attire. To be honest I was by now so used to wearing it that I'd forgotten how ridiculous it had seemed at the beginning. In fact, I was in a competition with some of the other girls to come down to breakfast looking as vampy and saucy as possible. I'd certainly had a couple of interesting hairstyles and faces on in the last couple of days.

"Yeah," I replied. "I guess so. To be honest, I don't even notice I have it on any more."

"Yeah, right," she laughed, "except at brekkie! Christ girl, what did you look like this morning? I didn't know whether to snog you or send you out onto the street to earn a living." She laughed raucously and I joined in as I recalled how I'd sauntered into the refectory with my hair curled and piled on top of my head, and the most outrageously salacious gothic makeup on my face. "I hope you wiped that muck off your face before you went in to 'educate' those poor boys," Trish went on.

"Course I did," I said, sipping my wine, "they're far too young for that horror movie." There was a lull in the conversation while the music changed tracks.

Trish leaned in conspiratorially as another loud track started thumping out of the speakers. "Course, we know that there's another reason apart from the eye-candy one as to why we have the uniforms. I heard once that a girl accidentally walked into a secure area - she was drunk and didn't see the warning signs." She shuddered.

I was suddenly interested. "What happened?"

"Laser mesh." She made a Zorro-like swooshing movement with her hands. "Diced receptionist. Apparently they were cleaning the corridor for days. Ugh." She finished her Asahi and made to get up. "Hey I'm gonna go to the steam room. Wanna come?"

I shook my head. "Got to plan my next week of lessons. Sato wants the plan on her desk tomorrow morning."

Trish made a "bitch" face, smiled and waved and was gone.

Laser mesh. Interesting. Meant that the countermeasures were not built into the clothing itself. Some sort of tracer with a personal ident? I passed my hands over the smooth, seamless contours of my costume but could feel nowhere where a smartchip might be concealed. Unless.

I unclipped the belt and looked at it. Looked perfectly normal. Too obvious, surely. A plan was beginning to form in my head.

***

Two hours later, I was walking in my robe from the solarium after spending half an hour under the sunbed. I was carrying my uniform and make up bag in the crook of my arm. I was taking a circuitous route via one of the observation decks, as I knew that it took me past one of the restricted areas.

I stopped for a moment at the entrance to the North Deck and went out to have a cigarette. Dusk was one of the most atmospheric times to be outside. The deck was deserted and I walked right to the guard-rail at the very edge. From here, the mountainside fell away quite sharply down to the sea. The drop was vertiginous. I looked down, imagining myself falling to be pulverised on the rocks jutting from the sea. That started the adrenalin flowing. I was about to do something risky and I needed to be sharp. I finished my cigarette and put it out in one of the ashtrays dotted about and walked back to the doorway stopping to bend down and loosen one of the straps on my while high-heeled slingbacks. Two girls (unknown to me) walked past me out onto the deck followed by three guards. They went to the rail and stated chatting. I rose and went inside.

I walked round the corner. At the end of this corridor was the red lit entrance to a restricted area. There was no door. Just red lighting and black and yellow warning stripes painted onto the floor where the line of demarcation was. I squinted and could now make out the fine mesh of holes in the walls and ceiling which must have been the laser countermeasure system.

As I walked up, I could feel the looseness of my right sandal. I had to calculate this precisely. Four feet away, I suddenly stumbled out of my loose shoe and fell with a small squeal, letting my uniform catsuit spill off my arm. As I hit the floor, I threw out my arm and my catsuit flew away from me into the red zone. It landed on the floor with one leg sticking out into the safe area.

Nothing happened.

I picked myself up, acting shaken, pulling the catsuit by its leg out of the red zone. By rights it should have been burnt to shreds by laser fire. I redid the strap on my sandal and turned the corner away from the restricted area back to my room, pulling the robe around me. I had some thinking to do.

***

Unless I was very much mistaken, my experiment had shown that the intrusion detection in the restricted zones was not intrinsic to the uniforms. Clearly the catsuits were a ruse. So how were the lasers triggered?

I lay on my bed, naked except for a pair of bikini briefs. The balcony door was open, letting the twilight and the cool breeze in; otherwise my room was dark. The only other explanation was that the tracer must somehow have been introduced to our bodies. But how? There had been no time when I'd been unconscious long enough for chip implantation to have occurred. Maybe it was something in the water. I smiled, then realised that maybe that wasn't such a foolish notion. After all, the reason why I was embroiled in this mess was because of nanotechnology. Perhaps there were nanites swimming round in my body right now broadcasting my identity and permission level to the intelligence that ran this grotesque building. I shuddered. In that case there was no way I could infiltrate the security systems unaided...

Coming to a decision, I quickly rose and shrugged myself into my catsuit. I looked at the clock. 19:56. Time to work on the kids' study plan, I thought. I padded over to the desk and surreptitiously reached behind the tablet, loosening the power connector slightly. Then I pressed the power stud. Nothing happened. I did it again, a couple of times.

I put the table lamp on and got on the phone to the IT desk. A man answered.

"Oh hello," I said breathlessly, "I'm Jane Masters in room 404. I'm afraid my tablet seems to have broken down.... Would you be able to send me someone? I really need to do some work for Cmr. Sato tonight.... Oh thank you.. Yes, yes, I'll be waiting."

I hung up and walked to the bathroom to beautify my hair and face and make myself smell nice. Might as well use the new tools the department had given me. Men were men, but techies were often desperate... Let me be the answer to their dreams. If it got me what I wanted.

***

I had fluffed up my newly curled hair and done an expert job of bedroom make-up. Smoky seductive eyes and deep red glossed lips; a dusting of dark blush and a spray of Cashmere Mist. I pushed my boobs up so that they were absurdly prominent and teased my nipples so that they stuck out under the restriction of the red fabric. Well, there was no point in being subtle. I had one chance to make an impression.

When the technician arrived, I immediately felt sorry for him. He was in his twenties, with thinning hair. I could have sworn his pebble-like specs steamed up when I answered the door with a breathy "Hi." He was short, about up to my chest and had bad teeth and was sweating. This was too easy.

He sidled past me and buried himself in his work. I slowly walked back into the room, my heels making pronounced clicking noises. I could see that he was aware of me even though he had his back to me. I sighed and sat on my bed, crossing my legs and pouring myself a glass of chilled Viognier. "It's such a lovely night," I said, in Japanese.

His shoulders stiffened. I sipped my wine but received no other reply.

After a while, I heard a chime and my tablet powered up. "It is power," he said in halting English, with his back still to me.

"It's OK, I speak very good Japanese," I said, "and you've fixed it. You're so clever!"

He finally turned. His face was red. "It was the power cable," he said, and giggled. "It's a technical support joke. And you did it!"

I smiled. "I'm just glad you fixed it." I indicated the bed. "I want to show my gratitude in some way. Would you like a glass of wine?"

"I shouldn't," he said, but he sat down. In a chair, not next to me on the bed. I poured him a glass and handed it to him, making sure that our fingers touched as he took it.

"My name is Jane. What's yours?"

He swigged his wine down on one go, "I know you are Miss Jane. Everyone is talking about you. That you are very good with the Director's children. My name is Takahashi."

It was obvious that he had been drinking already. I moved to pour him another and he accepted, offering to pour me one in return, the Japanese way. I let him pour a dribble into my glass. "What are they saying about me? If you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, that you are a very good teacher. Commissar Sato has been saying good things about you. I'm sure that the Director will reward you personally. Also," he smiled mischievously, "my friends will be very envious that you called when I was on duty."

"Why's that?" I said, uncrossing and recrossing my legs. He couldn't take his eyes off that.

He downed the wine again, looking mortified. "We all think that you are the most beautiful of the women that we are fortunate to share our employment with."

That one actually penetrated my defences and I blushed. "Thank you Mr Takahashi." I said, "that is a great compliment and I'm sure you and your colleagues are being over generous to me." I'd slipped into formal Japanese - fake humility. I got back onto the point. "You know, Takahashi-san. I'd be fascinated to see where you work. As you know, we girls only get to see half of what goes on here. Do you think-?" I looked submissively up at him as I poured him another.

He immediately pulled away. "I can't allow that Miss Jane. It's strictly forbidden. If Cmr. Sato found out, she'd..." he trailed off, taking a swig of wine.

I sipped my glass. "It's just that.." I let my fingers trail down the bare flesh between my breasts, trying to hypnotise him. "I find technology so sexy... that's one of the reasons I came to work here. I'm sure I could make it-" I looked into his eyes, and reached to gently touch his arm, "you know, worth your while?" I drank the rest of my glass of wine quickly, licking my lips.

I looked down to his crotch. There was a definite bulge there. I had him.

Suddenly, his pager bleeped and he jumped. Shit, shit, shit! He looked at it and got up.

"I must go." He started moving towards the doorway. I had to make a move.

I stood and strode over to stand in his way, stopping him with a hand on his. He turned. Shit. I couldn't believe I was about to do this.

I bent down and brushed his lips with mine, closing my eyes and thinking of England.

***

Nothing happened for a couple of days. In fact it all got a bit pathetic and high school-ish. I tried to attract Takahashi's attention in the canteen and other public places. Smiling and waving, but he either blanked me if with his gang of spotty techies, or looked acutely embarrassed if alone or working. Trish thought I was insane. I tried to explain that I found ugly small men irresistible and that he was really sweet, when you got to know him.

I carried on teaching the kids and spoke a couple of times with Sato, who expressed satisfaction at my work.

Then, at 03:30 on the morning of the fourth day, there was a knock on my door. I got up from bed and opened it, rubbing my eyes. There was no one there. Then I noticed a note on the floor. I picked it up.

Meet me on the North Deck in twenty minutes - Taka

***

I quickly dressed, freshened up, put on my most glamorous shoes and tripped along to the observation deck. Takahashi was waiting for me, there. I took his hands. "Hello Mr Takahashi. You wanted me?"

He was trembling in the warm night. "I couldn't get that kiss out of my mind," he said. "If I show you the technology area, will you-?"

I nodded. Giving him another quick peck on the mouth. "Let's go," he said, leading me quickly off the deck. As we walked along the corridor, he handed me a vial of colourless fluid. "Drink it," he said.

I stopped, looking at the vial. "What is it?"

He grabbed my hand and made me carry on walking, whispering, "unless you have that substance in your system you won't be able to pass the security grid. Please drink it, then give the vial back to me."

Nanites. They must be. I quickly downed the contents of the vial and handed it back to him. Tasted just like water.

We turned the corner and the red zone approached. I held my breath as we walked through, but nothing happened. I was in.

We walked down a short, darkened corridor then emerged into a dark, low-ceilinged room full of computer terminals. Sadly, just a tech support IT room with the usual clutter of parts and cabling strewn across the floor, but hopefully I could access something a bit more useful through this area. The only illumination came from the red light spilling in from the corridor and the dim glow of the computer monitors. There was another door that led on somewhere.

I had to act turned on by this, though. "Ooh, hardware!" I said, breathlessly, feeling a little absurd, "come here." He was breathing very hard as I embraced him. I could feel his little hard-on poking into my thigh.

I gently jabbed my thumb into the nerve cluster above his collarbone, and he collapsed with a soft grunt. I found some cabling and bound and gagged him. I'd have to dispose of him later. But now I had work to do.

I sat down at one of the active terminals, reaching into my hip pocket for the disk from my English teaching kit that contained the incursion software. I stuck it in the Unidrive and watched it spin up.

The 'ware began by spoofing my room terminal so that it appeared to the network and anyone monitoring activity that I was working on lesson notes in my room at 4 AM. Very conscientious, Jane. Once the cloak was up, I started investigating the local subnet for weak spots. I did this by sending out a pack of sniffers who'd scamper away disguised as normal network processes and come back having aggregated a visualisation of the security systems in the local area.

While this was happening, I took off my shoes and padded to the door at the far end of the room. A diffuse red light spilled through the circular viewhole onto the ceiling. I looked through and saw a red-lit corridor, with a single door at the far end. The number 497 was printed on the door. A gentle blue light pulsed from the viewhole of the door to Room 497.

I was about to go through to investigate when a soft chime sounded from behind me. Torn between two courses of action, I decided to go back to analyse the results of the sniffer run. I padded quietly back to the terminal, sat down and pulled up the results window.

Suddenly, I felt a prickling sensation of nerves, became aware of a feeling of being watched. I looked round, but there was no one there. I looked behind me at Takahashi, prone on the floor. But he was still out cold.

I stood up and walked over to the corridor through which we had entered. Pressing myself against the wall, I looked round the corner. But the corridor was still, empty. Perhaps I was spooking myself unnecessarily. I hadn't been under this type of mission pressure for a while now. I went back to the terminal and sat down, studying the screen.

Once again, I felt like I was being observed. I shivered. My exposed arms and back were starting to goosebump in the air-con atmosphere. I looked around again, licking my lips, which suddenly felt horribly dry. I felt an irrational desire to fix my lipstick and wished I had brought one with me. The room was empty. But was it my imagination or had the light from the door at the far end of the room brightened? I tried to concentrate on the screen, but was suddenly gripped by fear. I tried to swallow to lubricate my dry throat and mouth.

I got up, looked round and sat down again, rubbing my hands together with anxiety. Suddenly, I wished I were far away from here, in a pub in Chelsea with some mates watching the match. Dressed in jeans and sweatshirt. Not in some species of hell, halfway across the world, freezing to death in a sleazy red rubber catsuit. Shit. I began to cry.

After a while, I collected myself and looked over at the door again. Taking a breath, I rose and made my way through the mess of computer parts and diacarded Jolt Cola cans to the door. I sat down with my naked back on the door and looked up. Something had changed. Before, only the red corridor light had spilt through the viewhole from beyond. Now, I could clearly see the faint blue pulsing light mixing with the red glow thrown onto the ceiling.

Trying to slow my breathing, I rose and peeked through the viewhole. I gasped. The blue light that had been pulsing gently in Room 497 was now throbbing bright and angry, casting crazy shadows into the dark corridor. I was mesmerised, unable to rid myself of the feeling that whatever was in Room 497 was alive. What's more, that I'd woken it and it was watching me, somehow.

I watched and waited, hardly daring to breathe, and slowly, the intensity of the light from Room 497 diminished till it was back at its original level. I wondered if I should go through. I told myself that it was more important to get at the data on the network. Actually, I was terrified by the malevolent presence of Room 497; had a terrible foreboding that I was to find something utterly vile and incomprehensible in there.

So I turned and went back to the terminal, faced what I knew, rather than what I didn't want to know. I began to study the schematics of the network's security system.

Then something moved in the periphery of my vision, from the direction of the door.

I swallowed and slowly forced myself to turn my head.

One of the twins was standing there, ten feet away in the semi-darkness, just looking at me, with a frighteningly blank look on his face.

As I watched, mouth agape, he slowly raised a hand to point at me.

Once my heart had returned to its normal place in my chest, I got up and walked over to him. As I did so, he pointed behind me. I turned. The other boy was behind me, the same look on his face. His hand raised to point as well.

I knelt down, trying to calm myself. I reached out my hands and they came and took them. I tried to smile reassuringly and whispered, "you shouldn't be here, you two. It's very late." I stood. "Come on. Let's get you to bed."

But they hung back, not coming with me.

"What is it?" I whispered urgently. "We have to go. It's terribly dangerous. You might get hurt."

"Oh no," said a voice from behind me.

I whirled. From the darkness of the corner of the room stepped a tall, black-clad fighure. "I rather think it's you who might be hurt, Miss Jane," said Sato, a dangerous smile on her face

She tilted her head, slightly. "Or should that be Lieutenant Commander Pierce?"

The end of CHAPTER TWO
Jane Masters will return in CHAPTER THREE