Sophie Corrupted

by Viktor Redreich

  “Elise,” Bella hesitated, still looking around. “Lyn is shutting down this college’s Vaginist office.” Bella didn’t seem herself. Her ordinarily confident stance had been replaced by a meek slouch. She wouldn’t look Elise in the eyes.

  “What! Why?” Elise practically shouted, her heart suddenly battering against her chest plate.

  “There’s been too much negative media attention on the Horny College Sluts project. So The Foundation is giving control of the project to a porn company. The Foundation is changing focus to focus on human-machine relationships instead.”

  “Human-machine relationships?”

  “It’s the civil rights issue of our time, Elise,” said Bella, but her tone was robotic. There was no soul or heart behind her words. It almost sounded like Bella was reading from a brochure. “More and more people are developing relationships with artificial-intelligence robots, yet the wider society doesn’t consider human-machine relationships to be as valid as human-human relationships. The Foundation is now devoting significant resources towards ending this stigma.”

  Elise felt her wrist tendons twitch. Then her forearms. It moved up her arms until her whole body was shaking. Everything she’d been working toward for the past years was being tossed out the window. All because there was too much negative media attention? Elise couldn’t pinpoint which emotion was rising highest above the many she felt at once: anger, betrayal, frustration, disbelief. Rage. She couldn’t believe Bella would so readily go along with it all, either. It was only yesterday that the two had been excitedly planning their next Vaginist rally, and patting one another on the back for the movement’s progress.

  Nothing made sense. Elise knew it had nothing to do with her meds or lack thereof.

  “Where’s Lyn?” demanded Elise firmly. “I want to talk to her.”

  “It’s too late, Elise,” responded Bella, nonchalantly, her expression vacant. “Lyn and everyone else has already left the building through the service elevator. You’ll never see them again.”

  Elise wanted to grab Bella by the shoulders and shake her; rattle her out of whatever spell she was under.

  Instead, she rushed inside the office and ran to the back window, where she caught the back of Lyn’s SUV speeding out of the garage and on to the main road. She had a flashback to a similar scene with Dr. Hendrixson that had started this all. Funny how things had come full circle. But Elise wasn’t laughing.

  “You don’t care about women!” Elise felt herself screaming with all her might at the vehicle as it squealed off. Her voice echoed against the bare walls of the now-empty office. “You never did!”

  Chapter 9

  Where men roam free

  The icy breeze gnawed at her skin. Elise wrapped her scarf tighter and nestled her hands inside her jacket pockets. She’d bundled up for the cold weather, but apparently not quite well enough. She walked left. Then right. Then back again. She wasn’t usually much of a pacer, but on this particular day, she was extra anxious.

  The house in front of her was larger than average, with polished concrete walls, arched windows, and a hardwood porch.

  Suddenly—finally—the double doors squeaked open, and out walked Dr. Gordon Hendrixson. He was looking at his phone and didn’t notice her.

  Elise took a deep breath and walked toward him. “Dr. Hendrixson?”

  He flinched and looked up, his eyes wide. A moment passed. “Hello. What do you want?”

  “I just want to talk,” Elise replied softly, unsure if he’d recognized her.

  “Sorry, I’m on my way out to run some errands. You’re welcome to send me an email. That’s the best way to reach me,” he said curtly, walking past her towards his car.

  “Please, Doctor. It’s important,” she pleaded.

  He unlatched and swung open the driver’s side door, and stopped for a moment, squinting as he looked deep into her eyes. A visible moment of realization passed. Now he recognized her. His eyes narrowed. “Go away and leave me alone. I’m not in the mood.” He ducked into his car and started to close the door.

  Elise ran to his car and grabbed the side of his door before it shut. She wasn’t aggressive. She was desperate. “Please, Doctor. I’m sorry to bother you in your personal time. I really am. But I promise. I’m no longer associated with the Vaginist Movement. I just want to talk. If I could just have a few moments of your time.”

  His facial expression melted from annoyed to perplexed. He let go of his grip on the door handle and let it swing back open, glancing at his watch. “All right. I can spare some time. But not too long. I have a lot to do today.”

  “Thank you so much, Doctor! I really appreciate it.”

  He emerged from his car, and the two walked toward his house.

  Elise shivered. “I’ve been waiting in the cold for a while. Do you think it’s possible that we could go inside your house so I can warm up?”

  Dr. Hendrixson smirked. “Ha. No way. Sorry to hear you’re cold, but you’ll have to make do. I’m not risking you being one of those radical Vaginists who are going to try to frame me for sexual assault and ruin my career.”

  “I would never do that!”

  “You threw a shoe at my head,” he pointed out. Slowing his pace as they reached the porch steps.

  Elise paused and bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. “Two, actually,” she added with a wince.

  “Exactly. We’ll talk on the steps. And, I’m going to record the conversation for evidence.”

  She nodded slowly. “Wow, you really take a lot of precautions.”

  “You have to when you’re someone like me. There are a lot of people who are out to get me. As you well know,” he said, raising his eyebrows at her.

  Elise rubbed her hands together and blew into them as they sat down. Her frigid fingers shook as another breeze whooshed past.

  “Can I offer you my jacket?”

  Her mouth opened to give her auto-response, accusing him of a misogynistic gesture that assumes women have a lower tolerance to the cold than men do. But she stopped herself. Instead, she smiled and accepted his offer. “Thank you, Doctor.” She pulled his coat tightly over her shoulders.

  The gilded gates creaked open, and the carefully manicured lawns unrolled before her eyes like a vast silken carpet. Gordon had brought Elise to the Cable Mount Golf & Country Club, a place he made sure to visit at least twice a month when he was in town.

  He hadn’t volunteered, she’d asked.

  It had been several days since she’d first confronted him in front of his house, and Dr. Hendrixson was starting to warm up to Elise. On his porch steps, she’d poured her heart out to him about what she’d been through. She’d told him everything: about Lyn, The Foundation, the Boys’ House, the Nude Spaces project, Bella, and the sudden collapse of it all. He’d nodded along with compassionate eyes. When she’d finally gotten to the end of her story, he’d taken quite some time before he spoke. He took so long, in fact, that Elise hadn’t been sure if she should have just left him to his thoughts.

  Finally, he’d opened his mouth. “There are some very big, covert organizations in this world,” he started carefully, “that pull strings and manipulate the masses for their own gain. Quite often, that gain has nothing to do whatsoever with the movements and beliefs they feed. It sounds to me that you have been a victim of such manipulation.”

  Elise had pondered his response in the back of her mind for the rest of their conversation, which had ended up lasting nearly an hour and a half. Why would organizations like The Foundation want to manipulate women? What would they have to gain?

  The question festered in her mind long after her conversation with Dr. Hendrixson had ended. Indeed, she hadn’t been able to sleep that night. She tossed and turned in bed, her mind filled to the brim with questions.

  The next morning, she’d called him and asked if he could meet again. They’d met every day since. Elise wanted to learn about things from his point of view. She realized that she might have been b
rainwashed. She felt keeping an open mind might help her make a better sense of things. That’s why she’d asked Dr. Hendrixson to take her to his favorite country club. She wanted to learn more about his world.

  And what a different world it was. With its towering fountains, koi ponds, alcoves with plush seating areas, and pavilions surrounded by vibrant flowers.

  The guard at the door saluted Dr. Hendrixson.

  The valet walked over. “Good afternoon, Dr. Hendrixson. So lovely to see you again.”

  Another uniformed attendant opened Elise’s door to let her out.

  They entered the colossal white building through its Victorian-style doorway. The interior was like a palace: a grand staircase, plush purple carpeting, larger-than-life paintings, and a blindingly sparkly antique chandelier.

  A young woman dressed in pink and white with a visor and a perky blonde ponytail smiled sweetly at Dr. Hendrixson. “Dr. Hendrixson! Will I see you on the green today?”

  “Not today, Tiffany. I’m just giving this young lady a tour of the club. I have a game early tomorrow morning, though.”

  Elise smiled politely but shifted awkwardly throughout the exchange, and was glad when they continued walking. She hadn’t been to a place like this in a long time. The old her would have called it a homage to misogyny. The new, more open-minded version of her wasn’t quite ready to judge it just yet. That didn’t mean she didn’t have to push back the judgments that kept creeping their way into her head though.

  She wasn’t used to being surrounded by men, who made up the majority of the guests she’d seen so far at the club. It was disconcerting to Elise that these men seemed so self-assured and comfortable in their own skins. They wore smart clothes, either polo shirts, golf clothes, athletic wear or smart casual slacks and shirts. They carried themselves well, and they made thoughtful conversations with each other.

  She’d dressed for the occasion: under her polo shirt, she’d worn a bra for the first time in months. Her legs were shaved, her hair blowdried, and she’d put on some light make-up. To match her top, Elise had picked out an elegant skirt Marcus had bought her a few weeks before he’d cheated on her. In fact, it was the first time she’d had a chance to wear it.

  Over the railing of the sweeping verandah, Elise spotted a massive horse racing track with amphitheater-style seating. A polo match was taking place. The eighteen-hole golf course sprawled out just beyond it.

  “Do you think we could go check out the polo match?” she asked Dr. Hendrixson.

  “Sure.”

  They walked up the grand staircase, where a viewing platform allowed them to watch the game through huge windows, while the horses galloped along the field below.

  “So, tell me about this club. What draws you to it?” Elise tilted her head toward Dr. Hendrixson, whose eyes were fixed on the match.

  “It’s all about tradition. This is a place where they promote the values of old. Sports, critical thinking, literature, science, and art.”

  “Why is it all men? Women can be traditional too …”

  “That’s just the way it is. The way it has been for over a hundred years. Not just anyone can get in. There’s a lengthy application process to become a member. They check your social standing, assess your moral values and financial status. Only men can become members, but their wives and children are given associate membership cards and can use the facilities as well. All guests are welcome so long as they’re accompanied by a member, they can dine but they aren’t allowed to use the sports facilities.”

  Elise nodded slowly, taking it all in. Her mind was screaming “misogyny” but she continued to repress the thought.

  After the game, they made their way to the bar, where cushy single-seater leather sofas faced one another in sets of four, surrounding polished granite coffee tables. Men sat in groups smoking cigars, reading books, and having quiet conversations with one another.

  A man sitting at the bar turned to look right at Dr. Hendrixson, knowingly. He wore a tweed golf hat and matching blazer. Smiling, he reached his hand out for a shake. “Gordon. How goes it?”

  “I’m well, thank you,” Dr. Hendrixson replied, shaking his hand. “Didn’t see you at book club last week. Everything okay?”

  “The in-laws are in town and they’ve been taking up all my time. I finally got a chance to get away this afternoon for the first time. By the way, I’m nearly finished with the Churchill biography. It was riveting to learn of his genius antiduvellian approach to infinitely scalable content syndication a century before the world had even heard of the term content syndication.”

  Elise felt her insides tightening. She’d heard that Winston Churchill was a racist, sexist, and a homophobe. His books had been among those she and her Vaginist followers had helped to get banned on campus.

  Dr. Hendrixson nodded, smiling. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it? I’ve read it about four times. I never get tired of it.”

  Then the man looked toward Elise. “And who is this charming young creature you’ve brought with you today?”

  “Oh, this is Elise.”

  Elise shook the man’s hand and smiled.

  “Elise is a student at a local university. She’s been doing gender sciences and is curious to learn more about the values of men, so she asked me to take her on a tour of our club.”

  The man sat back in his chair. “It’s so nice seeing young minds taking an interest in our traditions. You know, young lady, this club has been open since eighteen fifty. My great grandfather was a member.”

  Dr. Hendrixson nodded. “As was mine,” he chimed in.

  “Welcome, Elise. You’re in good hands with Gordon, here. He’s practically an institution at our club. You’ll enjoy your tour, I’m sure. This is one of the last true sanctuaries that exist in this increasingly maddening world.”

  “Thank you. It was lovely to meet you.”

  They continued through the bar and made their way past the squash and badminton courts, followed by the pool and snooker rooms. Eventually, they arrived at the chess rooms, where four matches were taking place. The atmosphere was tense. There was barely a sound in the room. One man cleared his throat, leaned over his board, and moved one of his pieces two squares forward and one to the left.

  “I never really got chess. Why do people like it so much?” Elise whispered. “It looks so … dry and dull. There’s no interaction.”

  Dr. Hendrixson chuckled softly. “You’re right. It is dull. Well, I think so anyway. I guess these gentlemen might disagree. But I’ve never been much of a chess player myself. I do, however, love going up against a chess player in a debate.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “Their minds are sharp as knives. They’re always five steps ahead. Chess trains the mind like that.”

  Why would he want to go up against someone sharper than himself in a debate? Isn’t the whole point of a debate to, well, win?

  Their next destination was the Olympic-sized swimming pool. Only one swimmer was doing lengths today. Elise admired his butterfly—his muscular upper body maintained excellent form as he raced towards the end. She shook her head in disbelief.

  Next to the pool were the tennis courts in which men were sweating, grunting, and charging across.

  “Everyone is working out with such determination. There’s no slacking in this country club. Are they being graded, or something?” Elise half-joked to Dr. Hendrixson. “It seems like they’re almost pushing themselves past the point of exhaustion. I mean, if they have free time on their hands, wouldn’t they prefer to chill with a drink, and maybe, I dunno … smoke something good?”

  Dr. Hendrixson chuckled once again, this time out loud. “Well, chilling, having a drink, and smoking ‘something good’ feel so much better after a full day of work and a couple of hours of physical exertion. Delaying gratification makes the gratification all the more satisfying.”

  They continued meandering down the path, past the tennis courts. Elise thought about what he’d said for a mom
ent. A question occurred to her. She almost didn’t ask it, but then she remembered that she was doing research to find her way back to normality. So, in the name of research, she asked him, “Do you ever watch porn?”

  He tilted his head and looked at her with wide eyes, clearly surprised by her boldness. “No,” he replied simply.

  Elise wrinkled her forehead back at him and flattened her lips. “Oh, sure, next you’re going to tell me you don’t jack off either.”

  “Well, I don’t,” he replied, jutting his chin and shrugging his shoulders.

  Elise felt even more emboldened and continued, “See, now I know you’re full of shit because literally every guy watches porn and jacks off or uses some kind of masturbation aid.”

  “It’s not good for men to do that.”

  “Oh, yes it is,” retorted Elise. “We learned in human sexuality class that masturbation has all kinds of benefits. It makes you feel more confident about your body. It improves your creativity and focus. It boosts your immune system. It helps fight anxiety and stress by creating feel-good chemicals. It increases pain tolerance. It helps you sleep better and it even prevents type-two diabetes.”

  “I’m no biologist,” replied Dr. Hendrixson thoughtfully, “but I’m pretty sure playing tennis or going for a swim give you the same benefits, if not a lot more.”

  Elise opened her mouth to argue once again, in shock that the Doctor was dismissing such an essential part of self-care. The old her would have called him “sex-negative,” but the new her pushed down the judgment and held her tongue.

  He continued, “Men would be wise to avoid ejaculating unnecessarily. It weakens motivation, hurts athletic performance, has a detrimental effect on testosterone production, it—”

  “Testosterone,” Elise jumped in. “That’s the hormone that makes men all hairy and muscular and deep-voiced and aggressive.”

  “You have a problem with men being masculine?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow.