Eve

by Timothy Pearsall

  “Yes Mistress. And thank you!” Franco fled the room feeling taller and stronger than he had for a long time.

  “And as for me...” Eve spoke to herself in her empty bedroom, “…I packed my bag months ago.”

  *

  Rome - AD69

  The gladiatrix lay amongst corpses, soaked in blood and gore. Her wounds had begun to form bloody crusts. She dragged her blackened naked body across the flagstones until she found water. Nearby were the corpses of a butchered family, she scooped up the busy maggots and applied them to her own wounds. There she lay for two days, occasionally scooping water into her parched mouth, until enough strength returned for her to re-open and then sew up the worst of her wounds. Eventually she began to wander through the chaotic streets; hundreds of bodies still lay where they’d fallen, picked at like carrion by birds and dogs, and the ever industrious maggot. The stench of blood and bile mixed with the odour of burning flesh still lingered in the air. Manic drunken looters roamed in gangs ransacking any undefended buildings and the cries of the bereaved howled from empty windows. The gladiatrix hid amongst the neglected dead while life trickled back into her.

  Vespasian had become the undisputed ruler of the Roman world, the fourth and final emperor of the year AD69.

  And the gladiatrix turned to the whorehouse for sanctuary.

  *

  Sir Clive's House in the Countryside - 2000

  Mai was left watching television in the guest room while Sir Clive took Rita down to the laboratory. At the sight of the white tiled walls and steel furniture Rita became quite nervous, Sir Clive calmed her down with a smile and a drink that contained a heavy sedative. She was shortly reclining on Sir Clive’s purpose made adjustable divan. He had been lusting for her since he'd bought her the previous evening and lost no time in tearing off her clothes the Bangkok Chappie had not lied, her skin was flawless and her tiny body exquisite. He abused it in every way he could imagine until he was satisfied. And then eventually the experiment could begin.

  Rita hardly knew what was happening to her, she suffered it all in a dream-like, no, a nightmare-like trance.

  “It's all to do with the brain.” Sir Clive’s own mind was way past the point of no return, he was clinically insane, completely mad. He had lost all track of time and it was early evening before the experiment began, on a large flip chart he'd written down his latest demented theory in large block-capitals:

  IMMORTALITY CAN BE ACHIEVED BY THE REGULAR

  INGESTION Of LIVING HUMAN BRAIN MATTER, THIS WOULD

  ARREST, AND LIKELY REVERSE, THE NORMAL

  AGEING PROCESS

  The crackpot theory made no mention of how or why it would achieve this, his unbalanced mind simply presumed it would work.

  He moved the sedated Rita onto the operating table securing her feet, arms and middle with straps to prevent her moving, then he tilted the whole table at a 45 degree angle with her feet nearly touching the floor, that left her head at a convenient height for him to work on.

  Shaving her head and letting her long silky black hair fall to the floor aroused the lust in him once again, forcing him to postpone the experiment for another few minutes more. It was the need to use the toilet that finally alerted Sir Clive to the passage of time, having been in the laboratory for several hours.

  Eventually he realised that he was exhausted, hungry and having difficulty in focusing his eyes. And so it was with reluctance that he concluded the experiment would not be able to continue until the next morning.

  He released the girl from the operating table and lifted her back on to the divan, covering her with a sheet. Should she wake up before morning there was a little toilet in the laboratory that she could use, so without even slight pangs of conscience he locked her in there for the night.

  On his way upstairs he called in to the kitchen ordering the cook to send some food up to his room, he was tired and needed an early night. When he got up to his suite, Mai, his other little purchase, was still watching television, she smiled nervously and looked beyond him to see if Rita was there, Sir Clive spoke to her but she obviously didn't understand many words of English.

  “We're going to have something to eat and drink, then I'm going to have your virginity. Okay?” She recognised the word ‘Okay’ and smiled, Sir Clive smiled too.

  *

  Franco passed the twins' bedroom door feeling a pang of sympathy for them, but he knew that as long as Sir Clive was alive they would, at least, be sheltered. He had been looking for Cairo and was surprised to find her in her bedroom, sat on the floor; usually her bedroom was the last place you would expect to find her. She was wearing a man's t-shirt that was much too large for her, her legs and feet were bare.

  “Hello Franco.” She didn't sound as chirpy as usual. He smiled at her,

  “Your mother sent me to find you, I have a message.”

  “Oh?” She tried to sound uninterested. Franco could barely keep the emotion out of his voice,

  “You are to pack a bag. We are leaving tomorrow.” He waited for a reaction. She jumped to her feet, full of questions,

  “Leaving!? Leaving where? Leaving here?” She stood before him, tiny and incredulous.

  “Yes. We're finally going to quit this stinking zoo of a house.” He looked around at the ceiling and the walls as if he despised them, forgetting that it was the only home that Cairo had ever known. She stood in front of him trying to absorb the concept of leaving.

  “Pack a bag? What do I put in it? Where are we going? Who is going?” Franco put a gentle arm around her shoulders and led her across the room to her bed; they sat down together side by side, a huge caring man, a small bundle of youth,

  “Your mother, myself and you will be leaving this house tomorrow. We are going over the sea to the continent, you will love it. There's so much to see - and that includes the ‘sea’ itself. Cairo we're going to travel, to show you the world!”

  She was enthralled, utterly. All her recent dreams were going to come true after all! She jumped up and danced around the room, kicking up the dust of years, clapping her hands and laughing like a happy little girl,

  “Where is mother? I must see her now!”

  “I believe she is in her bedroom.” He called out as she skipped out of her room, along the landing, down a short flight of stairs and knocked on Eve’s bedroom door.

  “Mother? Are you there?” She called out cheerfully remembering that she had only been inside that room a handful of times in her entire life.

  “Come in.” Cairo entered the opulently decorated boudoir in hushed excitement.

  Eve was seated at an ornately carved bureau, writing in a book. She had large elegant handwriting.

  “Mother I'm so excited! We're going away!” Cairo fizzed. Eve put down her pen with a mock frown,

  “I hope you're not going to keep calling me mother everywhere we go! Or else I might have to leave you behind!” Eve half-joked and Cairo’s enthusiasm was undiminished, catching sight of the journal in front of Eve,

  “I didn't know you kept a diary!?” She moved to pick it up but Eve quickly closed it and slid it into a drawer.

  “Yes, well actually I've kept several, I only write occasional entries, the important things. Things that I might actually want to remember some day.” Cairo wasn't at that moment very interested.

  “What time are we leaving?” She asked, bobbing up and down on the spot.

  “As soon as we’re ready. We will take the white car, the convertible, so much more stylish and comfortable in the hotter countries. I haven't told Sir Clive yet, I haven't seen him actually.” Cairo’s face darkened at the mention of him,

  “I think he's in his so-called laboratory. He gives me the horrors you know.” She confessed.

  “Does he?” Eve seemed a little surprised.

  “Yes. And he's taken another girl down there! Poor thing.” Cairo shuddered involuntarily. Eve frowned in thought and turned away.

  “That explains it then.” She said quie
tly, more to herself than Cairo.

  “Explains what?” Cairo had overheard her.

  “Oh nothing. Just a feeling I had earlier.”

  “What? You felt it too?” Mother and daughter looked at each other closely, not speaking. Eventually Eve changed the subject back to their forthcoming travel.

  “You're allowed one bag and that's all, when we travel; we travel light!” She’d risen from her chair and flung open a wardrobe door, Cairo stepped up beside her asking,

  “But what should I take? I haven’t-” Eve interrupted her,

  “Just a few of your favourite clothes and things, I've got the passports (courtesy of Sir Clive’s friends at the Foreign Office) and we've got all the money we need, so simply pack what you like.”

  Cairo looked around her mother’s bedroom, it was crammed with things, the relics of her long life.

  “Won't you miss all of these things?” She asked. Eve shrugged as if she didn’t care,

  “No, not really, I've lost a hundred times as much before, many times in fact. Possessions don't really mean that much at my age.” She laughed. Without thinking Cairo moved forward and hugged her mother. At first Eve stiffened, then she softened, then she surprised herself by hugging her daughter tightly.

  *

  The following morning several things happened all at once. Sir Clive cancelled the breakfast ritual in favour of an early visit to the Lab. Eve took out one of the horses for an early gallop while Franco loaded the car with their bags, and Walther decided to take a breath of fresh air. He stood on the deck of his boat sipping a morning coffee. Tsuba was due back soon, he had left Richard with Susan and returned to the old woman and the bus alone, saying cryptically as usual,

  “A man will not become wise if he accepts everything without question.” Richard took a load of no notice and continued to hug his wife.

  Walther had given up his sleeping cabin for them, very little had been said the previous evening but they had all agreed with Richard's suggestion that they carry out the attack the next morning as he and Tsuba had already planned.

  *

  Down in the laboratory Sir Clive found Rita sitting on the edge of the divan, she looked terrified and her eyes were swollen with many hours of crying.

  “There, there my dear, no need to cry, it will all be over soon.” She looked at him uncomprehendingly, accusingly clutching handfuls of her shaven-off hair. Sir Clive calmly filled a hypodermic with sedative, she sat unresisting as he jabbed it into her arm, big warm tears rolling down her face. Merciful oblivion followed shortly. Sir Clive laid her on the operating table, donned a surgeon’s gown and with his pathologist’s shiny tools set about removing the top of her skull.

  “It's all to do with the brain.” He repeated softly to himself like a mantra.

  *

  Instead of her usual canter across the fields Eve decided to take the horse down to the river, it was another bright clear morning with spring flowers and blossoms decorating the riverbank. She felt good, she was looking forward to leaving the house and England which was becoming such a restrictive society. She rode with her mind elsewhere, imagining herself on the streets of Pamplona once again, her recent melancholia vanished.

  When she saw the houseboat she thought nothing of it. When she saw the man standing on the deck she nearly fell off her horse.

  “Von Vohberg!” She hissed his name followed by a sharp intake of breath. She reined in the horse and trotted slowly forward, a cryptic smile gradually spreading across her face. On the deck the man turned casually at the sound of the horse approaching, first he admired the animal then glanced at the rider with a polite smile on his face. His smile quickly faded as he recognised her, even though it was the first time he’d seen her in the flesh there could be no mistaking her. She brought her horse to a stop beside the boat, patted its neck gently then fixed Walther with a Medusa-like glare,

  “Cat got your tongue?” She purred slowly. Walther found himself unable to reply, awestruck by her presence, his mouth felt dry and he coughed, spilling some of his coffee. Suddenly she spurred the horse and galloped away towards the house, with her spell broken Walther dashed down into the cabin yelling for Richard and Susan to get up,

  “She's seen us! She's been here!” He shouted through their cabin door. In a matter of seconds the three of them were standing on the river bank, Susan toting the gun.

  “Where's Tsuba? Isn't he here yet?” Richard took charge.

  “We can't afford to wait for him, he'll have to catch us up, we've either got to attack now or wait to be attacked ourselves, we have to take the initiative!”

  “I agree!” Susan said. Walther hesitated for only a second,

  “Yes. I have to agree also, let us move swiftly for already we have lost the element of surprise!”

  Eve galloped back to the house, ignoring the stables she rode around to the front where Franco was cramming luggage into the long white convertible. She called to him as she approached along the gravel drive, her eyes sparkling,

  “It seems that your intuition was right yet again!...” She jumped from the horse a second before it had stopped, “...Von Vohberg is here! On a houseboat, and I'll wager he's not alone!” She called over her shoulder as she ran into the house,

  “Where’s Bright?!” Franco dropped the rest of the luggage and followed her, he loved to see her so vibrant, so full of energy. She caught up with Bright in the kitchen having his breakfast,

  “Bright! Get your shotgun and plenty of rounds! There are trespassers down by the river, I want you to see them off, shoot them if necessary!” The man's jaw dropped and he choked on a mouthful, looking doubtful. Eve rounded on him like a Furie, fixing him with her spellbinding gaze, her eyes holding him, she had to motivate him,

  “Why do you think I've kept you here? This is your moment Kelvin Bright, the moment you've been waiting for, the chance to show the world what kind of a man you really are! It’s your high noon, just DO IT RAMBO!” She chased him from the room, then turned,

  “And you! She raised a forefinger towards Fidelma,

  “You heard nothing!” Eve issued the warning with a grimace that intimated dire consequences, Fidelma looked down and began to gather Kelvin’s breakfast things,

  “To be sure, t'was nothin' to hear.” She replied as she carted everything over to the sink.

  *

  After checking the gun and grabbing all the spare cartridges, Richard, Susan and Walther immediately left for the house, trusting that Tsuba would follow. They headed along the edge of the woods until they found a path. Kelvin Bright, looking every bit the weekend soldier in his flak jacket and peaked G.I.'s cap, met them just beyond the edge of the garden. His last two dogs, already worked up into a frenzy, were let loose,

  “Terminate!” He roared out the familiar order.

  *

  Sir Clive carefully rinsed Rita’s brain under the running tap, her body on the operating table no longer of interest to him,

  “Now we shall see.” He placed it on a steel tray and reached for a long scalpel.

  *

  “Whoa!” Richard, at the head of the three, was first to see the dogs and ducked behind a large thorn bush. The two dogs, foaming and snarling, lurched straight past him, launching themselves at Susan and Walther.

  Susan, second in the file, raised her gun. Walther, with remarkable speed, tore off his jacket and began to wrap it around his left arm.

  In a matter of seconds the leading dog leapt howling at Susan, she managed to get one shot off before it crashed into her chest, its jaws snapping shut an inch from her throat as she was knocked backwards to the ground.

  A second later the other dog tore into Walther, fastening its powerful jaws around his wrapped arm, the animals strength was incredible, throwing its head from side to side until Walther’s arm was wrenched from its socket, the beast's fangs biting deeper and deeper into his arm.

  Susan’s single shot had been a good one, it had killed the beast as it fell upon her
, but its dead weight brought her down sending the gun spinning away as she banged her head on the ground. Dizzily, she groped around for the gun to help Walther. Kelvin appeared moments later, yelling,

  “Fucking bitch! You killed him you fuckin' little bitch!” His shotgun was shouldered ready to fire at her. Richard leapt out,

  “Hey!” He cried out to distract Kelvin who swivelled with well-practiced ease and fired at Richard. He couldn't miss.

  At the same moment as Kelvin swivelled, Tsuba leapt from the bushes and rushed upon him, with his left hand he pushed the shotgun barrel aside as it went off, Richard felt the heat, and his eyes were stung by the flash but he caught only a few stray pellets in his left shoulder.

  Tsuba’s right hand glittered as it moved upwards in a wide slash, catching Kelvin in the neck. The shimmering blade did not stop and Richard watched wide-eyed as Kelvin's head flew spinning high into the air, still mouthing breathless obscenities.

  Another gunshot, Richard turned to the sound and saw Susan standing over the body of the other dog, Walther lay on the ground groaning, his left arm at an odd angle to his body.

  Kelvin’s head, GI cap still intact, fell to the ground with a thump at Richards feet, whilst his upright body, blood spurting like a fountain, slowly crumpled forward.