The Underground
Page 7
Nathaniel must be pretty connected because they didn’t rescue people who were engaged. Simon tried to dig up the dirt on Nathaniel, but all he learned was that the guy’s fiancée was difficult. Poor boy. Maybe he didn’t love her. After all Simon had seen, he didn’t believe in love. Lust? That was another story. He still enjoyed occasional trysts with Eudora, the head Underground Sexpert instructor. The thought of that made him smile. He hoped she was free tonight. He could use a good fuck after all this driving. She was, technically speaking, his wife, which she had done to keep him out of the C Centers.
“How much longer?” Simon heard from a hoarse sounding Nathaniel.
Simon turned the on stereo, selected his favorite CD and cranked the volume, not giving a shit if Nathaniel was an AC/DC fan or not.
——–
Nathaniel knew Janice was either worried sick or sick from drinking. Either way, she would surely blame Nathaniel for his disappearance even if she found out at some point that it was against his will. She was probably drinking vodka by the bottle to “calm her nerves,” as she used to say.
He couldn’t worry about Janice right now. He had his own shit to deal with, like figuring out who the hell he was traveling with. He tried to think of any unusual past disappearances. He didn’t know anyone who had gone AWOL. Maybe some people who went on the record as murder victims were really members of this Underground? Would they declare him dead after he was gone for a certain amount of time?
Still, he felt a little bad for Janice, but not as bad as he did for Shayla. She would expect a phone call if he wasn't coming to work, and Nathaniel never missed work.
“I don’t want you to go,” she playfully said as she grabbed him one last time before he got dressed when they were in the hotel. “I wish you could stay the night,” she pleaded.
“I do too, but I will see you in the morning with a blueberry muffin and coffee,” he had whispered in her ear the day before he was kidnapped.
“Come early.”
“I promise,” he had said before a lingering kiss.
Just the thought of it made him grow hard. He didn’t think he could last without her. He had to contact her somehow, and soon.
When the engine finally turned off, Nathaniel was escorted from the van into an elevator that went down for so long he felt the pressure in his ears. This was not an elevator with an inspection sticker signed by the state. It was not that kind of place.
The elevator doors opened to a dark hallway, illuminated only by humming fluorescents. Nathaniel noticed the words painted on the wall behind the guard’s desk: Keep your Laws off my Body. Equal Rights and Justice for all Men. He knew these words well. Reminder of Truth had them at the end of each chapter, and he would soon see these words everywhere. The Underground’s mantra was painted on the shower stalls, cafeteria, lining the warren of hallways that were his new home and in every cell men slept in.
“Welcome back, Simon,” the guard said without fanfare.
“Barely here for a rest, but here is my delivery,” he said, as though Nathaniel was a box of office supplies. Nathaniel nodded quietly, which seemed safest.
“Good luck, son. You’ll need it,” Simon said before heading down a corridor.
“Thank you,” Nathaniel managed, but Simon didn’t turn back. Nathaniel hoped that appearing polite and appreciative might help him get off on the right foot as the next set of chaperones watched closely. While his expectations were low, he hoped they were friendlier than Simon. They simply had to be.
He was led down a long corridor lined with metal doors, each having a keypad on the wall to the left. His escort stopped in front of one, punched in a code and the door unlocked.
“Wait here,” he was told, and knew better than to question authority.
As the door locked behind him, Nathaniel was relieved to be alone, but his nerves were frazzled. There were two chairs around a small table. A single bulb dangled from above. The light rattled on and off, threatening complete darkness at any moment. There was a stainless steel prison-issue toilet in the corner, and nothing else inside the grey cinder-block room. Not a picture on the wall to focus his thoughts or a pad of paper, pencil, book, pamphlet or magazine. He sat on one of the two folding chairs and put his head down on the small cold metal table for what seemed like forever.
When the door finally opened, Nathaniel sat up quickly and a small man with closely cropped black hair and a well-sculpted goatee walked in. A black uniform, that everyone seemed to wear, covered his petite 5-foot frame. A tiny pink triangle dangled from his left ear lobe, a distinctive decoration compared to the others.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Crosby. Welcome to the Underground,” he said followed by a sparkly smile as he held his hand out. Crosby’s gesture was one of a friendly salesman, greatly contrasting Simon’s curtness.
Crosby spoke quickly, not allowing Nathaniel a word. “Now, I know you probably have a lot of questions, and I’ll try to answer as many of them as I can. First things first. Look over this family history to make sure it’s one hundred percent accurate. Then, we’ll move on,” he said smiling as he handed Nathaniel a thick printout, clipped to a board with a dangling pen attached. “Oh, and I’m guessing you’re a little hungry, so here’s something to tide you over,” Crosby said. He put a tightly saran wrapped submarine sandwich and a big bottle of water on the table.
Nathaniel warily took the sandwich, ripping it open and greedily took a bite. Would they poison him if they didn’t like how he’d behaved so far? He hoped not, but was too hungry to let that stop him.
“I’ll be back soon,” Crosby said as he closed the door behind him.
“Thanks!” Nathaniel said, before devouring the large sandwich. He had hoped for meat, but there was only tofu and vegetables inside. Still, food was food and he was starving and thirsty.
He picked up the booklet Crosby left. It was filled with such precise information about Nathaniel’s life that it was downright creepy. Not only did it list his birthplace and family tree, but there were also details about his childhood that weren’t so easy to dig up. They mentioned that he had a scar on his left ankle and noted it happened after he fell off his bike at age ten. How did they know? They had a copy of his first place certificate for an engineering contest, from high school, where he had to fix a broken engine in a fixed time period. Winning that opened the door to his job at the Cambridge Public Works.
There were addresses, health records, and work records. It also had a chronology of the few women he dated, including an in-depth description of his unpleasant relationship with Janice. It was as though someone had gathered Nathaniel up and summarized him in 40 sterile pages. Now he was supposed to sign off on the accuracy. It felt strange to read. Someone had done his homework, presumably with a lot of help from Brigg. Not a word about Shayla was mentioned, and he felt keenly satisfied keeping this secret. He feared for her safety. While she was the Queen’s daughter, she had taken pride doing without a full-time security detail, and these guys didn’t appear to be the law-abiding types. If they knew about the two of them… he didn’t want to think about what could happen.
He read the full summary a second time, since there was nothing else to do. Occasionally, he heard steps echo quietly on the concrete corridor outside his door. He hoped to hear them halt and enter, but it was quite sometime before that happened.
“Was all the info okay?” Crosby asked as soon as he walked in, flashing a quick smile.
Nathaniel nodded.
“Can I ask some questions?” Nathaniel asked, hopefully.
“Not yet, but soon. I promise. I’ll be back. Sit tight,” he said with a sing song excitement before disappearing as quickly as he had entered.
Nathaniel’s patience waned, but he knew that lashing out was useless. He was far outside his own territory, and alienating anyone was unwise. Besides, Crosby seemed nice.
True to his promise, Crosby reappeared a few minutes later. After locking the door, he sat down, cros
sing his legs in an exaggerated effeminate way.
“I’m here to orient you to the Underground. After I’m done, I’ll do my best to answer any questions you have,” he said in a friendly tone. “The Underground was started 25 years ago by a great man who decided it was time for men to regain equality. He believed mandatory castration must stop and he provided the seed money for The Underground. If you are wondering how this all works, we induct men into our system and retrain them to be very attractive to women in all ways. We then strategically place men, called Grounders, around the country. As the powerful women in our nation select Grounders for marriage, we infiltrate the country’s power-system to meet our goal. We are already making headway with our network of Grounders married to high-powered women.”
“So how do you know I’ll be snapped up so quickly?” Nathaniel asked, his mind flooded with questions. From where he sat, no man had gained anything. Castration was as rampant as ever.
“As I said, you will be trained. You will, in fact, remain here until you have all the qualities that our Master Instructors believe are necessary. Believe me, they know what they’re doing. There is a lot of market research behind what we do. Lucky for you, your sole purpose during your stay is to improve yourself, and to learn about women. It’s a marvelous, educational experience,” Crosby said enthusiastically, as though Nathaniel was going on an all expense paid trip to Paris.
“How long will this take?” Nathaniel asked, already dying to get out of there.
“It may not take that long for you because most likely you won't need plastic surgery, since you’re so good looking,” he casually said, squinting his eyes as though sizing him up.
“Plastic surgery? I should hope not!” Nathaniel balked, feeling sick at the way Crosby glibly spoke about this. Heck, he didn’t even like the idea of the stupid Botox that Janice was going to make him get before they got married.
“It’s not a huge deal. It’s done all the time,” Crosby said, gesturing as though it was nothing.
“It would be a big deal to me.”
“It’s not for you to decide, or me for that matter. All I can do is tell you I wouldn’t worry. If the powers that be think you can look better at the hands of our surgeons, then you shall have surgery. That’s just the way it is, but think about it. It’s certainly better than the other kind of surgery, don’t you think?” Crosby said.
“Well…”
“Well, what?” Crosby asked, with an innocence that seemed genuine. “Look on the bright side. You have a lot going for you. Your history says you’re a quick study. Your records are impeccable and after dealing so well with that Janice woman, I think you’ll take very well to what we have to offer. It’s a spectacular opportunity!” Crosby said with an excitement that Nathaniel thought quite odd, considering he felt imprisoned.
Crosby quickly flipped through some pages of a document that he held close, as he put on a pair of wire-framed reading glasses. “Ah yes. You are in here, essentially, for some advanced training and a roll-back,” he said turning his attention back to Nathaniel. Nathaniel wondered what else was in Crosby’s private notepad.
“What the hell’s a ‘roll-back’ and what kind of training?”
“A roll-back is when we transplant someone back into society with a new birth date that makes him younger to allow a little bit more time to find a woman after the training. We also, of course, give him a new identity and release him into a different part of the country. It’s actually quite exciting,” Crosby said, his grey eyes growing bright. “We’ve seen great success. You’re 25, so we’ll probably release you as 21. You won’t have a problem drawing in the women. No siree,” he said raising his eyebrows to show Nathaniel what he thought. “You’ll be a fine catch for some lucky lady. I’d like to catch you myself, but I’m not your cup of tea, am I?” he said with a laugh, not waiting for an answer.
“For now, you are in training. Our day begins at 6 a.m. with group lectures and group classes. There is also one-on-one instruction. Afternoons are for physical exercises, which most people find refreshing after being sedentary so much of the day. Although,” he said pausing for a moment, “come to think about it, not all our classes are sedentary,” he said laughing to himself.
“Also, quite obviously, we don’t get government subsidies, so everyone needs to help maintain our facility. Evenings are reserved for homework. After that, you’ll be tuckered out. Mark my words.”
“What kind of classes?”
“From our profile, you need help in Social Confidence and Manners, Basic Romance, Work Enhancement, and Sex-Skills. Okey dokey? All set then,” Crosby said, standing up to leave.
“Are you kidding me? I have a thousand questions! First of all, what the hell am I doing here?”
“You have a friend or two who thought this was better for you, as far as where your life was headed,” Crosby said. Nathaniel knew that Brigg was part of this, but who else could there be?
“How long will I be here, and for God’s sake who decided I need to take sex classes? And where the hell are we? I mean, am I in Nevada? It just all feels so weird,” Nathaniel said before Crosby waved his hands in an attempt to silence him.
“Nathaniel, my good man! Don’t worry so much. I can’t tell you, technically, our location, but you are Underground. You seem like a bright, energetic young man. If I had to guess, you will be here six months or so. But don’t hold me to that. You won’t leave until you are ready and I don’t know where you’ll go, but it won’t be back to Cambridge, Massachusetts. That’s for sure, but you’ll be happier elsewhere. Take advantage of our classes. We teach you to think like a woman. It’s a truly enlightening program! And, the sex classes?” he said with a laugh. “Don’t worry. Everyone takes at least one sex class. That won’t start tomorrow, so don’t be nervous. It’s extremely educational and the lab for that class is a one-on-one with one of our beautiful Sexperts. I’m sure you’ll love it. Anything else?”
Nathaniel sat in silence, not knowing what to say. Crosby seemed so happy and worry-free, quite the opposite of how Nathaniel felt. Thoughts of Shayla bled into every moment and he wondered if she would look for him.
“Come, I’ll show you around,” Crosby said, leading Nathaniel. “This used to be an old military facility a long time ago. We purchased it through one of our dummy corporations. It’s not fancy, but it fulfills our needs.
Crosby whisked him into the locked room that would be Nathaniel’s private home during his stay. It was tiny, with a single bed. A freestanding chrome sink stood behind a curtain, next to a puny toilet. “Showers are near the Gym, so you can shower after your workouts.”
“Can I ask why the doors are locked all the time?” Nathaniel asked with as much care as possible. He certainly felt safer questioning Crosby, compared with Simon.
“We keep things locked for everyone's safety. If you need something, press the little red button here and someone will come to you in a jiffy. So, it’s really not that bad,” Crosby said, like a real estate agent showing the finer points of a property.
“Now, let’s move along,” he said. Nathaniel’s cell was located near a small library. Books to read! Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here after all. It was like a dream to Nathaniel to have the time and peace to browse through stacks of books and read. He hoped to capitalize on it as long as he would be here. This was the first place where Nathaniel saw people other than the black-clad Underground staff. A handful of men sat at long tables, studying intently. He longed to ask them about their journeys, see how they liked it in here. While people looked up to see him, nobody made eye contact, and that made Nathaniel apprehensive. There was a seriousness in the air. Nathaniel felt the burning eyes of the silent guard who stood at the library’s entrance.
“May I take a look around?” Nathaniel cautiously whispered to Crosby.
“Sure, for a moment or two. We’ve got to get on soon. A splendid lunch awaits us, and I’m famished.”
Nathaniel walked through the aisles che
cking titles waiting for one to grab him. There were books on romance, women’s sexuality, women’s psychology, women’s anatomy, and it seemed to go on in that vein.
“Any good novels in this place?” Nathaniel asked hopefully.
“Well, there is a small section of novels, in line with our purpose, but I’m afraid there aren’t too many. You see, this library isn’t to entertain. The books in this library focus on helping you understand women. “It’s also a lovely place to study, as you can see,” he whispered. “Come on, let’s go eat!” he said, flashing his quick smile.
As they approached the dining line, it made Nathaniel think of his junior high school cafeteria. They each picked up a tray. Nathaniel followed Crosby. As Crosby went through the line, everyone gave him a big hello. They asked how much he wanted. When Nathaniel walked through, he just got the stock amount of whatever they served. A plop of the glop, like an assembly line plant.
“What are we eating?” Nathaniel asked when they sat down. Some of the foods were unfamiliar. He was still gobbling everything with hungry abandon.
“We have a vegetarian, low-fat, low-sodium diet. All the meals are balanced. Desserts are a no-no. Well, that’s not entirely true. Sometimes there is a fruit sorbet. Let’s see, today we have a miso soup, which is an option almost every meal. Very healthy. Then, there’s a low-fat tofu stir-fry, with veggies. We usually have spelt rolls with soy butter,” he said pointing to a whitish watery looking spread that somewhat resembled mayonnaise. “The cooks here are really quite talented, indeed!” Crosby said taking a bite of tofu. “Mmm, mmm good!”