Gaia's Majesty_Mission Called

by Roger B. Burt

  Just before dinner, Antonio Cipriano, international merchandising mogul, arrived with his regular companion, Luisa Penza. Both Brigid and Nicole glimpsed her at the same time. These women, unlike the imported girls, were tried and true companions of three of the men and distinct from the imported girls, who were temporary playmates. And all three were Andromeda—now inside the walls of Jorge Ramos’s fortified compound.

  ~~~

  When the meal had been cleared away and the after-dinner drinks served, the local staff was dismissed. Heavily armed security men, cradling automatic weapons, took up stations outside, joining the invisible guards who patrolled the compound walls. The guests’ companions and playthings were sent to a lounge area at the other end of the house, near the pool. Then Jorge Ramos took charge of the meeting.

  “Welcome to beautiful St. Lucia. The villa management staff will return in the morning to give you information on activities you might enjoy—publicly.” The men laughed and exchanged glances.

  Ramos continued, “Let’s share views on our various activities and the business climate as it is now. Some of you may be looking for investors.”

  Gary Cohan spoke first about investment opportunities his bank had noted. He was discreet and nonspecific, as was the Frenchman, Barnard Laurent, who shared some of his banking interests. Romero Ortega talked about his expectations for the price of oil, and then Carlos Herrera stood.

  “I’ll be happy to talk with any of you about how we might work together investing in commodities futures and the profits to be had in short selling—when we drive the prices down—again.” He chuckled as he sat down.

  Gary Cohan took the floor again. “The growth of opportunities for derivatives has been beyond our wildest expectations, even after recent crises. We have new products being created all the time. Working together we can ensure a high level of profit since we have investment levels and information not generally available. Seek me out if you have interest in the opportunities.”

  The meeting was the closest thing these men had to a vacation. They did not have to engage in dangerous or cutthroat competition, as they were essentially a well-integrated cartel even while they tightly controlled their specific businesses. Their activities were beyond any reasonable gauge of profitability. They had the control and the power and they knew it.

  ~~~

  Wrapped in a gauzy silk caftan, Brigid stood looking out at the pool and the striking view of the Pitons, two spire-like remnants of the caldera of a quiescent volcano. Behind her she could hear the soft strains of reggae as the other women danced together. She turned to watch. Their sensuality served as relief from her concentration on the job at hand. She knew that some of these women, just girls, really, and some of them innocents, would not be safe that night. They had been lured by the money and the luxury but could not know the brutality which sometimes was played out behind closed doors. And there was no one to protect them. Andromeda could not intervene; their mission was at a loftier level, bridging well beyond this evening. With a sigh, she turned back to attend to her role.

  Brigid scanned the landscape beyond the pool. An innocent would not know that armed men patrolled the area. In their own way, these men the Andromeda women called Overlords, were innocents. There were no guards inside the villa. How could these women pose any threat? Brigid left the pool area and was able to take up a station around the corner from the meeting room and overhear the proceedings. A few minutes later, Luisa joined her. Anyone seeing them would assume they were comparing notes on the latest fashions while enjoying a glass of champagne.

  Ramos took the floor again. “There is one other matter of business. It’s clear that there are people pressing hard to enhance interference and regulation, shall I say, of diverse kinds that will cripple many of our businesses—especially mine.” There was a discreet murmur. “We need to talk about how we can control these intrusions and what means we’ll use. If there’s nothing else that comes out of this meeting, it must be an understanding of how we’ll respond to this threat—a threat that must be met with more than our lobbying activities.”

  After a brief discussion, the men agreed to share information about interference with their businesses with Romero Ortega. His people would assemble it, look for patterns, and develop an intelligence data bank. That information could inform activities implemented to end the interference. All of them were satisfied that the establishment of this system was a good beginning. Specific interventions would come later, although some of the men wanted actions taken now. A few stated clearly that they would undertake their own projects. But Jorge Ramos counseled care and planning, despite his own history of violence.

  “Let’s not forget that what we do in our business endeavors is crucial to the economic well-being of the world,” Evan Covel said. “Our primary principle is the omniarchy, which means we have universal and limitless power—the ability to rule over all things. Without our steady hand, the poor would bring the world’s economic system down and there would be chaos. We must keep that in mind. We are the key stabilizing and ruling force but, as Jorge has said, to be truly effective we must employ it with reasonable discretion.”

  There were strong nods of approval. Covel smiled to himself. He knew these men had heard the recitation about the omniarchy before. But he also knew they loved to hear the repeated affirmation of their importance and power.

  Ramos stepped forward and spoke again. “Enough of business. Let’s move on to pleasure. If you did not bring a companion, we have arranged for some special company.”

  Brigid and Luisa withdrew to be among the other women. Nicole joined them. “Are you looking forward to your evening with Evan?” she asked Brigid.

  “He’s not as good a lover as he thinks he is, and I’m a better actress. But we must never underrate pillow talk.”

  She smiled and leaned in closer to Luisa. “And you don’t need to try to convince me that you have no feelings for Antonio. I sense that you truly care for him.”

  “I do, but be assured that my feelings would never interfere with orders that come from Andromeda.” She narrowed her eyes. “Any orders.”

  The women looked up as staff arrived to take them to the main room where the men had been meeting. Brigid fixed sultry eyes on Evan. He knew exactly what was in store. His eyes followed her as she made her way to the bar and poured his martini. Vodka. No vermouth. With studied grace, she put the martini glass in his hand and stroked his arm.

  “Sergey is converting you to Russian studies?” she asked.

  “Much of such studies is productive and profitable.” Evan kissed her palm, his affection obvious.

  Nicole and Luisa joined their lovers. They displayed their attachment to these powerful men with skilled and sensual movements as they stroked and nuzzled. The interested observer would know their true skill was in their subtlety. Sergey seemed in an amorous mood and pulled Nicole in close. Luisa was her usual sensual self, and Antonio couldn’t help but respond.

  As Evan sipped his drink, Brigid scanned the room. She enjoyed watching the men’s reactions, their foibles and especially their vulnerabilities—information that could be invaluable. At times she felt sorry for Evan. She would engage him that night and satisfy him sexually even while she looked to a future when he would surely die.

  ~~~

  In the morning Brigid scanned the girls as they floated into the main living area to be served breakfast. All of them were now casually dressed and perched on the luxurious couches and armchairs. Two of the young women caught her attention. They sank deep into couches, heads bowed. Both looked emotionally devastated, and one had made an unsuccessful attempt to cover a bruise on her face with makeup. Brigid recalled that the girl had been paired with Carlos Herrera. She had to assume that their night had gone beyond sexual service to brutal rape. Not that Brigid was surprised. She was certain others had been abused as well, but some had the strength to mount a pleasing cover for their inner feelings. She made a mental no
te regarding Herrera and the debt he would have to pay.

  While her knowledge of these men pained her, she too had to maintain a facade for her own protection. Inside she wrestled with horror at the abuses women suffered, at the hands of men, across the world. Seeing it yet again reinforced her dedication to Andromeda. Someday, she knew, women would achieve power and partnership. In the meantime, Andromeda’s justice would be unrelenting.

  Chapter 8

  Karma?

  Miami, Florida

  Within a week, Laguna disappeared from the headlines, leaving only a few persistent environmentalists searching its meaning.

  Beck was relieved there had been no meaningful probing of their company by the media. He kept pushing his team for progress reports on the echolocation weapon—none of which were reassuring—news that Evan Covel did not take lightly.

  Finally, he stopped by Melanie’s office.

  Beck vented as he paced before her desk. “Honestly, what the hell does he think I can do? He wants somebody to blame if this doesn’t get fixed.”

  Melanie’s face was blank as she twirled a pencil in her fingers. “Is your résumé up to date?”

  Beck whirled to face her. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

  “Just being real,” she said without a trace of emotion.

  He plopped into the chair across from her desk. “If the engineers are to be believed, the problem isn’t going to get fixed anytime soon. What I’d really like to do is go to Brazil and get an idea of what happened in that village. Maybe it all just got blown up out of proportion. Nine dolphins? Why all the fuss?”

  “It’s a free country, Beck. That is, if you want to waste your vacation time on a fruitless trip like that. Not to mention that it would look bad.”

  “I don’t even know what I’m saying. I may be out of a job soon. The engineers are not making enough progress to satisfy Covel. Those vacation days might be meaningless.” He smiled. “Or maybe I should take them while I can still use them.” Beck stood. “I’m going home and go for a run. Clear my head. See you Monday.”

  ~~~

  Avery sat in her condo picking at dinner. Finally she rose and began pacing. Then she remembered the video camera. Do I really want to see all this again? She sighed, took it out, and began to review what was on it. It was just scenery until she came to the incident on the beach. She noticed the point where she’d handed the camera to Luma, who had kept it running and on Avery. The sun was still low in the early morning and the light not good. Yes, there were the two women running toward the ocean. They did not look like villagers. And she could make out the woman in the surf. Such large luminous eyes—like the woman in her dream she realized. She was clearly focused on Avery, and Avery recalled the insistent engagement she felt. With the chaos and the two women in the way, the camera had not caught much of her. But from what Avery could make out, there was something odd about her legs.

  She threw herself back into the couch. There were too many undefined and unsettling pieces. She needed some air. Her condo was within walking distance of a Friday night street fair. She could hear the faint sounds of salsa and thought it would be a welcome diversion.

  Avery made her way into the thick of the happy crowd and was resonating to the music. Suddenly a man came up next to her and grabbed her arm.

  “Hey, hottie. Wanna party?”

  She yanked her arm free. “No way. Get lost.”

  Another man took hold of her other arm. She could smell beer on their breaths as they began forcing her through the crowd.

  She started to protest but the man hissed in her ear, “I’ll cut you if you scream.” She felt cold metal on her neck. No one they passed paid any attention.

  She recalled an item in the newspaper about a series of rapes in that section of town. She didn’t want to be one of them. What had they told her to do in that self-defense class she’d taken? They had her arms controlled but not her feet. She tried to stomp the arch of one of the men’s feet, but the men were bearing most of her weight.

  Beck’s run had taken him to the street fair. He was just entering the crowd when he saw a dark-haired woman resisting two men. Without thinking, he pushed through the crowd and grabbed one of the men in a chokehold. Beck threw him to the ground then whirled for the other man, who was still trying to subdue Avery. She palmed him in the face with her now free hand just as Beck landed on him and grabbed a fistful of his long hair, yanking his head back and punching him in the throat with his middle knuckle extended. The man fell to the ground, moaning.

  Beck scanned the crowd backing away and saw police in the distance coming in their direction. “Unless you want to get involved in a big dispute with these bastards and the police, I suggest we get you gone,” he said.

  She nodded, adrenaline making her shaky.

  Calmly he guided her out of the crowd. They cleared the crush and quickly walked down the street. He drew her around the next corner.

  Beck asked, “You okay?” She turned toward him and started to tremble. He reached out to support her, afraid she might faint. She took a deep breath and said, “I’m not too thrilled with my evening so far. You’re handy to have around. Thanks.”

  “It just didn’t look right,” he said.

  Avery nodded. “My bet is those are the bastards responsible for the rapes in the area.”

  Avery was starting to recover. She extended her hand. “Avery Corbett. And you are?”

  “Beck Eriksen.” He looked around, studying the area. “We need to get out of here. It could get messy with these guys when they claim I attacked them. Can I buy you a coffee or a beer? You being alone right now is not a good idea.”

  “And how do I know you aren’t up to no good?” She realized how that sounded. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

  “There’s a decent café just down the street. They take in people in sweaty running clothes and refugees.”

  Avery took a deep breath and laughed. “Sounds good. Did I say thank you for rescuing me?”

  He took her arm to steady her and they started toward the café.

  “Where’d you learn to fight like that?” Avery asked. “Those guys didn’t have a chance.”

  “No big-deal formal training. When I was a kid I had a problem with a bully. My parents arranged for some self-defense training. I learned that once in a fight you never back off.”

  Avery was struck by his tone and determination.

  Once they were settled in the café, they ordered beers and, after an awkward beginning, turned to the usual get-acquainted chatter. Avery talked briefly about her work with women in the Third World.

  Beck could see that Avery was reacting to the evening’s events. He said, “I think it’s time I got you home. Is there family, a husband, or a boyfriend waiting for you?”

  Avery smiled. “No husband, no boyfriend and I would appreciate you seeing me home.” She studied his face for a moment. “I’m glad I met you, Beck.”

  “Me, too.” He paused. “Can I take you to dinner tomorrow night?”

  Avery’s eyes lit up. “I’d like that.”

  They exchanged phone numbers and Beck walked Avery to her building.

  At the elevator, he asked, “Can I be a little protective, Avery? I’d like to pick you up here tomorrow at six.”

  “I’ll accept protectiveness, at least for now. I’d say you earned it.”

  When the elevator door opened she impulsively gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

  ~~~

  The next evening Avery emerged from the elevator precisely at the arranged time, her usual t-shirt and shorts replaced by a colorful dress with a short skirt. Beck was enchanted.

  He had chosen an intimate family-run Italian restaurant. They selected from a mouth-watering small plate menu. When they had their wine, Beck abandoned small talk and asked, “How’d you get so interested in helping women?”

  “My parents worked on health-care initiatives in Third World c
ountries, so I guess it’s in my DNA. We lived a sort of international existence moving from one project to another—mostly Africa and the Middle East. It opened the world to me, which helps with what I’m doing. It made me kind of fearless.”

  “Are they still in the field?”

  “No, they died in Africa. In a car accident. I’d just gone away to college in the States.” Sadness pressed on Avery. “I wish I could’ve had more time with them.” She fell silent.

  Beck rested his chin on clasped hands. “It seems like it’s still an open wound.”

  Avery sucked in her breath and nodded. She studied his face, loving the fact that this man showed compassion. “Sometimes I think I’d like some normalcy in my life. I love my work, but wonder what it would be like to have an ordinary job. Hang out with ordinary people. Maybe have a kid or two. Nothing extraordinary.”

  She fell silent for a moment and Beck waited, tuning in to her pain.

  “After the accident, a friend of my parents showed up and helped me wrap up their affairs. I had no idea what to do. It turned out my parents had money. Not a huge amount but enough to make me comfortable. It seemed odd, since we never really had a home or anything to indicate there was money. I have no relatives that I know of. It all just ended. So here I am without family and wanting something ordinary. Does that make me strange?”

  Beck reached out and put his hand on hers. “It sounds like a disorienting life. Interesting in some ways, but frightening in others. To find yourself so suddenly and totally on your own must have been awful. My parents can be a pain in the ass, but I know they’re there if I need them.”

  His comforting touch reached neediness, deep inside. She wanted a place in this world for herself—if she could ever figure out who she was or where she belonged. She dropped her head, fell silent, then looked up into his eyes. “The thing is, Beck, I felt abandoned by them. I know that sounds strange, but now I see their mission always felt like it was first and I was somewhere in the background. Then they were gone.”