So Night Follows Day Pt. 15

By T. MaskedWriter with special guest author Susan Bailey

*****

"Remember when you were young? You shone like the sun.
Shine on, you crazy diamond!
Now, there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky.
Shine on, you crazy diamond!
You were caught in the crossfire of childhood and stardom,
blown on the steel breeze.
Come on, you target for faraway laughter.
Come on, you stranger, you legend, you martyr,
and shine!"
-Pink Floyd "Shine On You Crazy Diamond (I-V)"

Hey, Susan again. I'm not sure of a lot of things at the moment, but I'm reasonably certain that's who I am. (And again, I'll tell you when it's me.)

My eyes were closed, and through the haze of relaxation, I noticed that I no longer felt Julie's presence in the bed with me. She'd undressed me for bed, laid down with me, and told me soft, relaxing things, until I couldn't do anything but feel the relaxation wash over me. (Troy and Julie are so used to this feeling that they're able to carry on long conversations in trance. I'm not there, yet.) There were other things that she said, too, but I could ignore those. They were for my subconscious mind. And now that I was so deeply relaxed, some friends of mine who came from there were coming to help me answer some questions. I was just waiting for them to show up...

* * *

My head. Well, I can't really call it "the final frontier," can I? I mean, there are certainly other people with heads in the world. I've seen them.

Anyway, these are the voyages of the starship Equalsprize. It's Until-I-Wake-Up mission: To explore my subconscious. To seek out answers lost somewhere amongst all the crap in here. To find out how the fuck I got what, I'm calling for now, some kind of psychic connection with Helen!

I sat in my big, comfortable, swiveling chair, looking at all the buttons and lights and the intercom speaker on the right armrest. More light-up buttons and switches went down the length of the left armrest. I gave a big sigh and couldn't stop grinning.

"Oh, MYYY!" Said a familiar voice, coming from someone sitting at the Navigator's position in front of me, wearing a gold shirt and nothing else. "You're looking quite sharp today, Captain. Shall I... er... send a class I probe to the Captain's quarters?"

"No thanks, Mr. Su... zy-Ho-Lu," I told her. Let me just... be happy for a minute that I'm finally getting a Star Trek one of these, ok? TOS, even! This has got to be Julie's doing. You are SO going down on her when I wake up!"

I composed myself, still a bit giddy at all of this. I looked around the bridge.

"Ok," I said. "So, you're Sulu, and I don't see a Chekov." I turned to my left. "And there's no Uhura, so that makes Sue..."

The turbolift doors opened. Someone else who looked like me was in an outfit with a blue shirt, wearing a pinky ring.

"Dammit, Susan!" Sue barked at me. "I'm a fuckin' waitress, not a doctor!"

"Ok." I said, trying to take her seriously, but unable to resist a giggle. "So that means that Suzy-Q is..."

"The only logical choice remaining, Captain." She said from over my right shoulder. I turned to her. Yep, pointy ears, bowl-cut, everything. It took a moment for me to stop laughing.

"Sorry, ladies. You all look great. Just... If I'm ever in here for a really long time; like if I'm in a coma or something, promise me we'll come back to this one!"

"We'll certainly try, Susan." Sue replied.

"Before we get started," Suzy-Q interrupted. "Let's clear something up here and now. Sue, Suzy-Ho; are either of you spirit guides? Like, do you already know what we're looking for, but plan to make Susan go through a bunch of shit until she figures it out herself?"

"No." Sue said, then thought another moment. "Hell, no! I believe I would kick some spirit guide motherfucker's ass and beat the answer out of them, if anyone here turned out to be one of those."

"If I say yes," Suzy-Ho-Lu asked. "Would you use sexual torture to get it out of me?"

"Nope." I replied. "I'd let Sue take care of the punishment."

"In that case, no. I am not a spirit guide."

I turned to Suzy-Q, recalling her conversation with Helen on this subject.

"I didn't suspect any of you, but thanks for thinking of that." I settled in my chair. "Well, if I'm Kirk, I suppose it's up to me to get things started."

Sue stepped forward.

"Ok, yes. But I've got something to say before we get started, too. You need to come out of this eventually, Susan. So, we've got to put a limit on the Shatner School of Acting stuff here."

"My! God! Sue... -Bones!" I replied. "You're...absolutely right." I stood up and looked at her. "Ok, it's out of my system now. And while we're getting things out of the way, I've always wanted to see this." I walked over to Spock's viewer and looked inside. Yep. Vulcan porn, just like I thought. I returned to my chair.

"Ok, Mr. Suzy-Ho-Lu. Sorry, I'm gonna stick to everyone's usual names. I'm already torn over whether Suzy-Q should be Spocky-Q or Suzyock-Q, and that's too much to deal with now. Anyway, let's go visit your home, ladies. Plot a course for my Subconscious."

"How do I do that, Captain?" Suzy-Ho asked. I had to think for a moment. We needed the answer soon, but yay, Star Trek Fantasy!

Just hit some buttons that feel Sulu-y to you." She nodded and started pressing random buttons.

"This better not be like the first movie." Sue grumbled. "Where we spend forty-seven minutes looking at special-effects before anything happens."

I heard the music that let me know we were on our way.

* * *

Contessa Helena de San Finzione tossed another cigarette out of the Mustang's passenger-side window after it crossed the intersection of 85th street and Aurora. A few blocks later, the street turned from residential to commercial property, and at the next intersection was the warehouse where they were to meet the Elders' representative. Beyond it, the street changed from houses and apartments to banks and shops for several miles before becoming a residential street again.

"Slightly more public than I'd expect." Mander said. "Right on the corner."

They pulled into the parking lot, Helen casually noting and pointing out the cameras and the men who couldn't be seen from the street, patrolling the rooftop with AK-47s. Mander doing the same for the ones he spotted.

Helen lit another cigarette and took a long drag.

"Parking lot and street in two directions. Open space; fewer approaches for any Ultimados we might've brought along if we hadn't been told not to."

"Woulda been nice, though." Mander replied, turning off the vehicle. After Helena didn't respond, he asked, "You all right?"

"Sorry, just thinking about how all this began in a warehouse full of Triad goons. It would have, yes. But the Triads are jumpy, and we have to show that we're no threat. Well, we're a threat, but not a big one. Not one they have to worry about unless they piss us off, anyway."

"So, why'm I here, then?"

"We're not a big threat." Helen replied, getting out of the car. "We're also not a stupid one."

"Least one of us ain't." Mander replied, getting out and walking behind her.

Helen approached the side door, dropped her cigarette, and knocked. A Chinese man in a black suit and tie opened the door and looked at them. He nodded and let them in. They walked inside, where three more with assault rifles watched them, fingers resting on trigger-guards. When the man who'd opened the door reached for Helen's Prada Arcade bag, she pulled it away.

"My big, scary Englishman and I are both carrying pistols." Helen told the man in Guangzhou Cantonese. "His is holstered, and mine is in my purse. You have AK-47s, unshouldered, which I would appreciate you not pointing at us. If you can't begrudge us a little paranoia, too, we can turn right around." She looked him in the eyes. "Because none of you will shoot, and you'll get to explain to The Elders why I left."

The men pointed their rifles away from them.

"This way." The man replied in the same language and dialect, as he led them through pallets of stacked crates and shelves, toward the center of the warehouse. Unlike the last Triad warehouse that Helen had been in, this one was used for moving something other than captive women. Counterfeit electronics, Helen reasoned; from the information she read off the crates they passed.

The small hedge maze of crates led to an open area in the center, containing a folding card table with three chairs around it. The one who'd done the little talking any of them had thus far motioned to a chair. Mander walked forward, looked it over, and held it out for Helena. She took her seat.

"Seems very cordial, Your Countessness." Mander whispered to her. "If not for the major 'set-up' vibe."

"Not even a pat down for a wire, or insisting on taking our phones." She whispered back. "See if you've got a signal."

"He doesn't, Contessa." Said a now familiar voice from a speaker in the darkness. "You're right. They're not worried about recording devices or signals, because I'm taking care of those."

A Chinese man, wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase, came out of the darkness from the side and took a seat at the table next to her, regarding Helen with a nod.

"You will pardon me, Contessa." The man said in perfect West-Coast American English. "My name is Lee." Helen nodded. If he'd been American, it would have been Smith. "The Elders felt that they should hear both sides of this dispute."

Mander remained standing behind Helen as another figure entered from the far end of the room-within-the-crates. The man wore a new suit, and what looked like a motorcycle helmet with the visor closed, blacking out the wearer's head entirely. The figure walked closer and took a seat at the table. It was then that light flickered from the helmet's visor; light that made Helen think of a screen powering up. The thought was proved correct a moment later when Leonard Whyte, CBE's face appeared in the visor.

"Nice to see you face-to-face again, Contessa." He said from speakers on the sides of the helmet. "Well, not really face-to-face, but you understand."

Helen exploded into hysterical laughter. Whyte's face on the monitor indicated that he was waiting for her to finish.

"Yes, I do!" Helen got out between gasps for air. "After... all this shit... My 'arch-foe,'... my fucking 'nemesis'... in this 'deadly cat and mouse game'... I've been playing... for the last two months... turns out to be DAFTPUNK???" She wasn't finished laughing, but still tried to get the rest out. "There is... FAR more truth to that... than you could possibly know!"

"Oh, it's a bit Tron, I know. When the people who watched the warehouse video before me didn't obey your commands as well, I determined that your... unique talent... wasn't something that could be transmitted electronically, the idea just came to me. It also answered that burning question 'Why doesn't Contessa Helena de San Finzione just go on TV and conquer the world already?' So, this little baby blocks off all outside sound and light, depending on built-in cameras and internal speakers, allowing us to speak without worrying about your ability. Provided that it's me at the table, that is. Knowing me, I might've just grabbed a bum off the street and gave him a new suit and a thousand bucks to put on this helmet and sit here for an hour. Maybe he's watching Spongebob. The thing gets Netflix. He's not bored in there."

Helen composed herself and lit a cigarette. The answer that involved Whyte exploiting an innocent was likely the correct one.

"Ok, ok. It would've been cool if it was like Arrested Development, and you had Super Dave Osbourne under that helmet, but your version explains the smell. Tron didn't end too well for the English tech guy, if I recall. But, are you planning to make any more of those helmets? Because my maid would just love one! Not the one with hobo breath on the inside, though. I'd want to get her a new one. Ooh, do they come in Emerald Green?"

"There's at least one more. I was going to offer them to our Chinese friends if it became necessary to 'come get you' from where you're hiding in town."

Mr. Lee cut in.

"So, you knew that The Viper... er, the Contessa, was not at the hotel?"

"I considered it a possibility. She has a double; it was a 50-50 chance. That's the real Contessa. The double's probably on a flight back to San Finzione right now."

"He knew I wasn't there, because he sent me a text about your men 'paying her a visit.' And your little stunts have shut down the airport, Leonard." Helen replied with a long drag. "But yes, she's out of this now." Helen switched to Mandarin and turned to Mr. Lee. "I am the real Viper That Speaks All the Tongues of Man. There is another name that you know me by. I shall not be using it tonight, but I suspect you know it, and He who gave it to me." She thought a moment and turned back to Whyte or his avatar under the helmet. "And Leonard, your helmet thing, it operates via phone frequencies; and must have wi-fi if it's got Netflix, but gets through your jammer? Well, I'd suppose it would; I mean, you built both of them, right?"

"A very exclusive feature of Whyte cell phones, for our privileged clientele, like the Honorable Mr. Lee." He replied in English, bowing his head on the screen in Lee's direction. "But let's get to business, Helena. I understand you have a recording you'd like Mr. Lee to hear."

"I did," She replied in English. "But I see there's no point now. I mean, you've been pretty calm about it from the beginning. That and the fact that you're... well, your vagrant, anyway; is here, means you struck a deal with the Elders before I even got to Seattle. So, let's talk about that, instead."

She turned to Mr. Lee and switched back to Mandarin.

"What has this man offered the Elders to risk my wrath?"

* * *

Susan's Log, Stardate: Don't feel like doing the math. One, I guess.

My... other selves and I... No, Sue, that wasn't a Shatner pause, I was just searching for a word; I'm trying to do a log entry, here, all right? Anyway, we are about to emerge from Warp at whatever coordinates Suzy-Ho put in. So far, most of the trip had been looking at stars go past on the viewscreen and watching the little lights move below it.

"Anything on long-range scans?" I asked Suzy-Q.

"We're approaching a nebula, Captain." She said, looking into the viewer. Should be coming into visual range."

"Onscreen." I said with a smile. Suzy-Q smiled back, pressing the button.

The pink, swirling mass floated in space, surging with energy, pulsing with lightning storms that danced through the pinkness.

"My subconscious is a nebula?" I asked the other Mes.

"Well, it IS a pretty nebulous place." Sue pointed out, from the helmsman's seat. Since we're not beaming down to the surface of a planet yet, and there was no one else but the other three of us on the ship, she didn't have any doctoring to do, so Sue got bored and took Chekov's spot.

"Is this the right place, Captain?" Suzy-Ho asked. "Because I've got to be honest, all we have to go on is your memories of the TV show, so I just started pushing buttons that felt right to me."

"That's why I didn't give any co-ordinates, Suzy-Ho. Something Suzy-Q said back in the living room came to mind: You all come from my subconscious. I figured that meant that you'd instinctively know the way home."

She beamed and turned to Sue.

"See? I can do something without sex being involved!"

Sue grumbled.

"I've trusted your judgment thus far." I said. "Ok, take us in."

"Roger, Captain. Taking our long, tubular ship with the big spanking paddle thing on top into the strange pink thing."

Sue smiled.

"So," I mused. "No sensors or shields in a nebula."

"Blindfolded and naked. Sounds like the route to something metaphysical." Suzy-Q observed.

"Best way I've always found to go looking for answers." Suzy-Ho added.

Enveloped in the electrified pinkness, we moved slowly forward until something beeped at Suzy-Q's station, and she peeked into her viewer.

"Sensors aren't supposed to be working, but I'm getting something, Captain. A transmission from... the nebula itself."

"I think it's safe to say that I know we're here. Can you put it on-screen?"

She pressed some buttons, and the viewscreen changed to an image of Troy grinning in the darkness. Up close, as if we were viewing it from a cameraperson who was sitting on his knee. A pounding bass guitar was playing over everything, and he yelled something that couldn't be heard over it, however, I've seen him say it enough to recognize his mouth making the words: "Fucking love you, Mistress."

"That song," Sue said. "I know it."

"We all do, Sue." Suzy-Q responded. "It is the intro to 'Bloodletting (The Vampire Song)' by Concrete Blonde, which leads me to believe that we are seeing Troy's bachelor party here. Further, the angle suggests that we're seeing it from our own perspective at the time, as Susan was sitting on Troy's knee when these events took place."

"Ok, Suzy-Q; if I don't get to be Shatner, you don't get to be Nimoy. We're seeing my memory of Troy's bachelor party. You can just say that." I thought back to that moment. "Yeah! I remember all of us were on top of the world that night! I'd just done that strip show and more with Julie and Brenda in front of all those people! All those men and women watching us, cheering us on. And then, hurrying off-stage into Troy's arms: A man who was not only OK with this whole crazy idea for a theme that we'd come up with, but gave us loving encouragement every step of the way! A man I loved, who genuinely loved me back. OK, so he was marrying someone else in the morning; I loved her too. And nothing would change between the three of us. I would still be both of their girlfriend, they would still be with me. I felt confident, secure, sure of myself. And then..."

"Hello, Troilus. Thanks for the invitation. How've you been?"

We watched as Troy introduced me to Contessa Helena de San Finzione for the first time. The time that I would end up not remembering. The woman from the news who was apparently Troy's first girlfriend and the bitch was fucking smoking in the hotel bar! Where other waitresses have to breathe it in!

"Fuck her!" I said, remembering what was going through my head at that moment. "I just had the greatest moment of my life and now she's trying to sound all Auntie Mame, calling their decision to make Julie Best Man 'sappy.' I don't care if she comes back! I don't care that she's 'the third person out there who can Do What We Do!' I'm not gonna take this shit!"

My voice came from the screen.

"I'm pretty sure there's no smoking in here." Ok, not assertive as I'd had hoped, however, from what Troy had been trying not to say, I was in the presence of the third, and from everything they'd told me about her up til now; evil mind controller that was "out there."

"And I was really pissed off at Troy's response. That she's got Diplomatic Immunity. So, even without the mind control, nobody can tell her not to smoke in here? And that's when she said."

The screen completed the sentence for me.

"Let's all go up to the Honeymoon Suite together. I have a surprise of my own planned."

"And there's the moment she fucking took that feeling away from you!" Sue shouted, pounding on the console.

The video continued. Brenda and I got up. Troy got up. He could probably fight her, or stop her, but there were too many people in here to do anything, so he went along.

"Helen's looking us over." Suzy-Ho said, as the image continued. "You know, they say that within the first thirty seconds of meeting someone, the decision 'Do I want to fuck them or not' is already made on some level."

"How does that help anything?" Sue asked for me.