"Fuck!" Esharveer shouted. "Fuck, fuck fuck!" He shot up from the floor mat he'd been dreaming on and ran into his bathroom, barely suppressing a scream. His hair was on fire and soon his clothes would be!
As he stuck his head in the shower and turned on the tap, he did scream. The pain shot through his head and ears like a million knives. He felt loose flesh, blisters and ruined hair on his scalp as he put out the fire and tried to calm himself down. What a horror! And it was all Romantek's fault.
He had no time to deal with it. Escape was imperative. Once Romantek broke through the lock he'd put on their personnel database, they'd come for him. Esharveer couldn't let that happen.
It killed him to abandon his plan to take Marie captive and harm her, but perhaps he'd done enough damage to Romantek. There were two unhappy women dreamers, and together they'd prosecute their case against Romantek and destroy the company.
He put an ice pack on his head for five minutes and sprayed the affected area with an antibiotic meant for scrapes and cuts. The pain was awful. He could barely stand it, and stood gritting his teeth as he looked in the mirror. Dwelling on it was a luxury he couldn't afford.
Packing a bag quickly, Esharveer pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt, crying as quietly as he could. Agony almost crumpled his knees, but he didn't want his neighbors to call the police. Covered as much as he could be, he rushed out of his apartment, calling for a self-drive to take him to the air terminal. Once in the vehicle, he rewired part of the control panel to allow for him to drive it without computer interference. While he was at it, he disabled the tracking mechanism. That wouldn't last long. The cars had redundant systems, but they took longer to kick in, requiring some human at a central terminal to ferret out what happened to their vehicle. That ought to give Esharveer just enough time to get to the terminal and get out of California. Although he'd been disowned by his own family in California, he had friends in India—friends who would take him in and hide him for a time.
Racing wildly through the streets, he hoped he could catch an immediate flight. He planned to take a roundabout route, so it didn't matter where the first flight's destination was as long as he was on it.
Romantek would pay for this. He wouldn't forget exactly what they'd put him through.
His scalp throbbed and felt like it was still on fire. His scorched hair smelled acrid. But he couldn't let it slow him down. Once in India, he'd have a doctor look at it. Unfortunately, he was probably scarred for life.
* * * * *
Back on the Revenge Tastes Sweet, Rex took Charlotte captive. She was in tears and tried to hug him, but he would have none of it. Charlotte didn't know what to do. It was obvious that Rex thought her somehow culpable in this awful situation, but while in the ship's hold she'd realized she was in love with him. It was unrequited to be sure, and she still didn't understand his motivations for some things, but she remembered that intense look in his eyes when they'd been together. It was a look that said Charlotte was something special. Something bigger and better than her scar.
As she was being dragged to the Stealthy Dog, the fighting stopped and crewmen started disappearing. Once on Rex's ship, he gave her a searing look and pulled her into his cabin. He gave her a shove, pushing her into a chair, and then turned around and walked away. Charlotte heard the lock click on the door.
They both knew she could will herself out of the dream, and Charlotte thought it might be best. She touched her scar. Still there. The situation was hopeless, so she closed her eyes and wished for a return to the twenty-second century.
Within moments, she fell through the rabbit hole.
* * * * *
Rex checked on Marie and found her frightened but alright. She had waited to make sure he was alive, but once he showed himself, she was anxious to go back home.
"I won't blame you for being angry at Romantek for this terrible dream, Marie," Rex told her. "But I hope you'll consider the circumstances. There were forces in action that were beyond our control, though we tried."
"What is your real name?" she asked. "You know mine."
"I'm Rex Boyd. I'm here to keep you safe."
"You did, for the most part," she said. "Thank you. I'm going back to my own time now. I will consider your opinion on Romantek's failure. I have to consult with my attorneys. Maybe something could be arranged—money back or a custom dream. I don't know."
"All we can ask for is fairness. We will accommodate you in whatever manner you choose, of course. Goodbye, Marie."
She said nothing else, just closed her eyes and faded away.
Expecting no more and fearing the worst would come of Marie's return to their own century, Rex still had Charlotte to deal with. He alerted the Romantek Operations center that he would be questioning Charlotte, but they told him she had left the dream.
Not only that, but they'd traced her. She was a paying customer.
Rex knew the company was in deep trouble, but his heart skipped a beat. Charlotte might still be a terrorist, having taken on a dream to infiltrate seamlessly. But, in fact, as he thought back over her behavior, she'd been as puzzled by the turn of events as he had. Maybe she was not an accessory to the crime. Maybe she was a victim.
He told Romantek that he was done, and things went black for a moment. When he opened his eyes, he was on the dreaming deck of the Romantek ship, being tended by a para-nurse. It was over.
* * * * *
Charlotte woke next to her nanite gel pod on the dreaming deck. She was woozy and quite uncomfortable as Romantek medical workers cleared her nose of the remaining gel. Although she was weak, she reached up to touch her face. Immediately, tears formed. It was still there. Disappointment brought sobs for several minutes, and the para-nurse fussed over her, worried that she was in pain or something even worse.
"My scar," she gasped between sobs. "It's still there."
The nurse looked at her carefully. "What scar?"
Completely confused, Charlotte felt her cheek again. It was still there. "This scar! Can't you see it?"
"Honey," the nurse said, her voice soothing, "there's nothing there but pretty skin. Did you have one before?"
"It's still there! I don't understand. Can you give me a mirror?"
Nodding, the nurse went away, her white scrubs flashing in the blue-tinged light from above. In a few minutes, she came back with a hand mirror. "Here you are."
"Thank you." Charlotte looked in the mirror. The scar was still there. Why couldn't the nurse see it? "I don't understand," she whispered, more to herself than the nurse. She handed the mirror back.
"You rest," she told Charlotte. "In a few minutes, I'll help you get dressed and you can go back to your cabin to get ready for the after-dream party."
Charlotte nodded, distracted by conflicting emotions. What was happening to her? Had she gone mad?
She recovered with each passing minute, feeling more like herself, but better. Her muscles felt livelier, and though she'd been in decent shape when she'd started, things like moles were gone, and that rough spot behind one knee. Her hair felt softer and her lips more plump. Rejuvenation had been successful for her, but she still felt the scar. Charlotte was puzzling this over when two men came in. They wore their gray suits, blue ties, and white shirts like uniforms, and Charlotte was immediately wary.
"Charlotte Darrell?" the one with brown eyes asked. They were brown with yellow spikes in the iris—enhanced. Charlotte wondered briefly whether he could see her scar with his special vision.
"Yes, that's me."
"You'll have to come with us."
The para-nurse bustled in, not looking at the men. She fussed with Charlotte's garments for a moment, getting them ready for Charlotte to wear.
"Where? What’s this about?"
"We're with Romantek security. You're being detained."
A spear of panic shot through her. "What for? I haven't done anything."
The two men looked at each other and back at her. "As you say. Please get dressed."
The nurse shooed them out and helped Charlotte dress in her navy blue pantsuit and yellow blouse. It was one of her best outfits, but Charlotte was too nervous to pay much attention to it. Handing Charlotte her purse, the nurse escorted her to the door, not looking her in the eyes. As the nurse opened the door, Charlotte was taken by the elbow by one of the men and had her purse taken by the other. "Come along."
"Okay. You don't need to force me. I don't understand what this is about, but I'm not going to run away."
The man's grip on her elbow lightened, but he still propelled her down the corridor.
They wound their way through the ship until they reached a door below the passenger decks. It was a door simply marked "Security," gray, like the men's suits, and nondescript. They opened it onto a large anteroom, and led her down another, shorter hallway to a room with a window that looked out on the hall. She sat at the small plastic table there. It smelled liked canned air, artificially freshened.
"May I have my purse?"
This time, the fellow with the orange eyes replied. "I'm sorry, ma'am, no."
"Why not?"
"It will be searched."
"Why are you doing this? I'm just a passenger. I haven't done anything wrong. I have rights, you know."
"You signed away your rights when you agreed to abide by Romantek's security terms of use," said the brown-eyed one.
Charlotte remembered that she had. It hadn't meant anything to her when she'd done it. She didn't expect to break any of the rules. "This must be a mistake. I didn't do anything."
"Chuck, stay here. The boss will be along in a minute. I'll have this purse scanned."
The one with the orange eyes, now known as Chuck, took a position by the door as the other one left.
Temper flaring, Charlotte stood. "I want my purse back, and I demand to know what this is about."
"Sit down, Miss Darrell." He speared her with his strange eyes.
"No! I'm leaving. This is ridiculous." She took two steps toward the door, and he moved to stand between her and her destination.
"Sit down."
He was far too big for Charlotte to overcome. With a curse, Charlotte sat back down and waited. She stared at Chuck, hoping to soften him. It was pointless; he didn't even look at her again once she was seated.
After a while, the door opened. At first, the man was looking back into the hallway, finishing up a conversation, but he turned into the room and Charlotte gasped. It was Rex.
"Chuck, you can wait outside."
Rex eyed her as he switched places with Chuck and the guard left them alone. "Charlotte," he said, moving into the room and sitting in the chair opposite to her.
"Rex! What is this about? Why am I here?"
His jaw was tight when he responded. "Is your real name Charlotte Darrell?"
"Yes! Of course."
"We have your DNA, and if you're not telling the truth, we'll know shortly. There's no point in lying."
"I'm not lying. Did I do something wrong?"
"That's what I'm here to find out. What do you know about the pirate dream?"
"Only what you know." Actually he seemed to know much more. "Or…what the Rex I thought I knew would know. Who are you really?"
"Rex Boyd. I head up the division of cyber-security counter-terrorism."
Charlotte gasped. "Counter-terrorism! Is that what happened with that dream?"
"You tell me."
Frowning, Charlotte's temper resurfaced out of her confusion. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? How should I know? You're the expert."
"Tell me about Esharveer Jaggi."
"Who?"
"We've traced his involvement in this plot, Charlotte. If you know him, and can tell us what you know, I can get some of the charges against you reduced."
Now Charlotte was really mad. "Charges! Are you crazy? I haven't done anything. I'm as much a victim as anyone there. Are you also holding Marie?"
"What do you know about Marie?"
"This is absurd. I demand a lawyer."
"So, you do know something," he said calmly.
"No, I do not."
He sat quietly for a minute, his eyes unfocused as he stared off in the distance. Charlotte thought maybe there was something wrong, but he spoke again. "You're telling the truth."
"Of course I am! How did you know?"
"Your chip is still activated."
"My…Oh, this is rich. I thought that was deactivated as soon as they took me out of the gel!"
He looked down at his hands, then back at her. His blue-green eyes were sincere when he said, "I'm sorry. We had to do it. Once it's deactivated, we can't activate it again, so we had to leave it live. You see, the dream was taken over by cyber-terrorists trying to kidnap Marie. Jaggi got away. We were thinking maybe you knew where he'd gone."
Charlotte had to think about that for a minute. "Why were you in the dream?"
"We knew that someone had been trying to tap into the Romantek computers, with very limited success. Marie is a valuable target, so we had to minimize the threat by sending in someone to monitor the situation and take charge if there was a problem."
"Oh." Charlotte knew, at that moment, that whatever intimacy she'd shared with Rex was totally lost. He was there to do a job. If he'd had a little fun with the scarred girl, it was at the most somewhat unprofessional. It was not serious interest. She touched her face again.
"I'm sorry, Charlotte."
"You're sorry?! Sorry my ass. You ought to be begging me not to sue you. That was one of the worst experiences of my life, and it was Romantek's incompetence that led me there."
"You certainly have the right to sue, but I have to tell you, Romantek has a top-notch legal team. It might be somewhat expensive to chase after them."
"I don't give a fuck. You people have ruined my life, and I'm not going to take it lying down." Disappointment over retaining her scar overwhelmed her. The scar had ruined her life. Romantek was responsible for not removing it. She couldn't sue for that, but the disastrous dream was another thing. If she had to get back at them that way, she would. It might impoverish her, leave her with huge debt if she didn't win. And she had signed liability waivers. These were "circumstances beyond Romantek's control" more than likely. Or, at least that's how their lawyers would have it interpreted. Still, she was furious. Rex was an immediate target.
"I ought to sue you personally as well," she said, her voice almost a hiss. "You took advantage of me."
"Now wait a minute," he said, a slight frown between his black eyebrows. "That was a mutual thing. You were quite willing as I recall."
"It was under duress!"
His frown deepened. "It most certainly was not."
"Oh, yes it was. And you spanked me, too! How dare you!"
"I'm about to do it again. Get control of yourself."
She rose from her chair and he rose with her. Charlotte poked him in the chest. "I am in total control of myself. I hate you and everything you did. Consider yourself on my shitlist."
"You needed what I did, Charlotte. Both the spankings and the sex."
Total fury made Charlotte act without thinking. She raised her hand and slapped him across the cheek. "I hate you!"
He grabbed her wrist and lowered her hand to her hip. "That's enough! I ought to take you over my knee again."
"Don't you dare." She hated the uncertainty in her voice.
"What if I do?"
"I'll scream." Her voice was now barely a whisper. The intimacy of a spanking sounded almost good to her. She'd be close to Rex again. But at what cost? Getting close to him was a losing proposition.
"I don't think so." His grip on her wrist loosened.
"I don't care about you. You might have thought that because I'm so unattractive, you could have your way and be doing me a favor. You can go to hell."
"You're still wallowing in self-pity, I see. You're all about being ugly."
"I am ugly! This scar makes me ugly! I hate it, and I hate you!"
"That's it." With only those two words to warn her, Rex sat down and upended her over his knees, throwing a leg over hers to keep her still. He yanked down her slacks and panties and gave her a hearty whack.
"Stop that! I'm going to scream!"
"It's about time you learned that being obnoxious isn't the answer to your problems. I can spank you, make you think about your actions, and maybe that'll make a difference."
Charlotte didn't scream, though he was whaling on her behind with the full force of his hand. He was right about being defensive. It didn't make the emotional wounds heal. In fact, it was possible that her behavior made things worse as people turned away from what they might perceive as coldness. Be that as it may, Rex was lighting a fire on her butt.
"Okay!" she said through gritted teeth. "I get it. Now you can stop."
More whacks peppered her behind, these on the place where her cheeks and thighs came together. "I don't believe that you get it, Charlotte."
How could she make him believe? How could she believe it herself? "Please, Rex! Please stop. I'll work on it. I'll go home and work it out."
With one more mighty spank right at the middle of her cheeks, Rex stopped. Without pulling up her pants, leaving her exposed and vulnerable, Rex helped her stand. Within seconds he had her sitting on his lap and snugged up against his chest.
Although her bottom smarted, being there in his arms was reassuring. He wouldn't have spanked her if he didn't care. He'd have shrugged and walked away. Certainly she'd given him reason to do that. But he scolded her and then soothed her instead.
"You're not ugly, Charlotte. But your self-loathing, now that's ugly. Still, you've never been ugly where it counts."
"You're just saying that. I know what I look like. I know what I am to you."
His eyes softened and he looked over her face, touching her chin tenderly. "You don't know, Charlotte. You don't know at all." Rex's lips found hers, and at first Charlotte resisted, locking her lips tight. But she couldn't quite make herself turn her head away. "You're beautiful, Charlotte, on the inside especially. Why can't you see that about yourself? Why would the outside matter so much when the intelligent, fiery, loyal part of Charlotte is what counts?"
"You really think those things about me?"
"Everyone does, Charlotte. Maybe I think them a little deeper. I care about you, baby."
"You do? Because, Rex, if you're leading me on, I will…I'll…"
He pressed her lips with his fingertips. "No more threats." Soft lips followed where his fingertips had been. "Kiss me."
With a groan she couldn't control, she opened her lips to him. Their kiss seared her to her core. She could almost believe him. But a tiny suspicion ruined it for her. Maybe he was seducing her so she wouldn't sue his company or him. Maybe he had ulterior motives. He'd almost convinced her that the scar didn't matter, but how could that really be believed?
"I'm still going to sue," she told him, breathless from his kisses.
"You can do that." He kissed her face all over, and especially on her scarred cheek.
"I mean it."
"I know."
"Oh, God." Her resistance was pointless. Maybe he really did care. Maybe her scar didn't matter to him. But she tried to trip him up one more time. She had to be sure. "It will never go away, you know. The scar. I'll never look like other people."
He broke from her and stared into her eyes. "I love you the way you are, but, baby, you're not scarred."
Maybe he didn't see it on her face anymore. Maybe his affection had made it fade in his eyes. Could it be possible that the rest of her mattered more than her ugly blemish? Was she more than her scar?
"I love you, Charlotte."
Charlotte's heart melted. If she was something special in his eyes, maybe she really was a special person. Other people seemed to think so. Marie did. Her Aunt Devona had. Had Charlotte done herself the greatest injustice of all time? Had she failed to see her own worth in the world? She took stock, held in Rex's arms, her face pressed against his broad chest.
"Thank you, Rex."
"Come on. Let's get out of this rat hole and get you to your cabin."
"I'm tired," she said. And she was. She was tired of fretting over the way she looked, tired of fighting things and people she couldn't control. She was tired of fighting all by herself with no one at her side.
After she dressed, they walked quietly out into the hall, where Chuck stood at attention. "It's okay," Rex told him. "She's clear."
Chuck nodded, apparently unfazed about the sounds that must have come from the interrogation room. Charlotte's face flamed as brightly as her bottom. "Don't forget your purse, Miss."
"Right," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her purse didn't matter. Rex was in love with her, but even more importantly, Charlotte was beginning to love herself.
As they passed by another room, Rex ducked in and got her purse, bringing it back to her and escorting her to the elevator. Within a few minutes, they were at her cabin.
"I have a few things I need to finish," Rex told her, his hands cupping her face. "Can I come back for you?"
"Yes. I'll rest while you're gone."
"Good idea." He kissed her tenderly and then, reluctantly, turned away to leave.
Charlotte caught his sleeve before he left. "Rex, I love you. I know what that means now."
His smile lit up the corridor. "You always knew what it meant, baby. You were just afraid."
Rex was right. She'd been afraid to put herself out there and take a chance. But you had to take chances in life in order to grow. She saw that finally. Charlotte returned his smile with a little one of her own.
"Rest well. Your chip has been deactivated. Your dreams are your own. I hope they're pleasant ones."
Charlotte entered her cabin, put her purse down and kicked off her shoes. Tossing her jacket on a chair, she caught sight of herself in the big mirror over the dresser. It didn't matter what she looked like anymore. She was loved and could love in return.
As she drew closer to the mirror, she wondered if her eyes showed how much in love she was. But her eyes were the same gray-green eyes she'd seen in mirrors before except they got wider and wider as she stared.
Romantek…they'd done the miraculous. The scar was gone.
* * * * *
Esharveer sat in the doctor's office in Mumbai and tried not to flinch too much as the woman prodded and poked at his ruined scalp.
"You should have gone right to the emergency room, you know."
"I…I had a heli-jet to catch. It isn't so bad."
Her brown eyes widened. "You must have one helluva pain threshold. These are third-degree burns."
He'd already known that. It had taken him three flights to get to Mumbai. Three interminable, exhausting, excruciatingly painful flights. But he was sure he'd thrown Romantek's bloodhounds off the trail. He no longer had the chip in his scalp—that had been burned away—and there was no way for them to trace him. He'd never been to India before, having grown up in Northern California. But he'd known people who lived in India, people who worked for companies he'd worked for in the past and who worked remotely. Esharveer had purposely cultivated those relationships. A vacation in India would have been pleasant with his friends, but these circumstances were less than ideal.
Still, they'd welcomed him, concerned about his sudden appearance and his debilitated condition. Excuses came easy to his lips; he'd formulated them on the trip. But more than making excuses, Esharveer had started plotting a new way to get back at Romantek. He needed some money to do it, but he was willing to work and wait for the right time.
When that time came, Esharveer knew he'd be triumphant and Romantek would go down. The next scheme was sure to work. They'd changed him for life now, and he wouldn't forget. He'd remember every time he looked in the mirror and saw his scars.
* * * * *
Although Rex was the cautious sort, it didn't slow his courtship with Charlotte down. She reveled in his attention, thrilled to be free of the horrible burden the scar had placed on her for the past ten years. His job took a lot of his effort, but Charlotte never felt like she was second fiddle. He brought her flowers every Monday, to brighten her week. He took her out for meals and introduced her to his family and friends.
Charlotte was swept off her feet. Rex was everything she'd dreamed about for so long. All those romance heroes and so much more.
The only fly in the ointment was the terrorist's escape. Rex's job was to find the man and see that he came to justice.
"What about his family?" she asked.
"None known. Our records indicate that he was born in Northern California, but we don't know who his parents are, or were."
"Friends?"
"None made at Romantek; the people he worked with there never got close to him. He was a very solitary person."
"Was he good at his job?"
Rex nodded. "Apparently quite good." His tone castigated the system in which he worked.
Charlotte laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."
Sighing, he petted her hair for a minute. "We'll find him."
"Of course you will." Charlotte had complete faith in Rex, but she also knew that there were limits to his abilities. A change in subject was in order. "Kiss me?"
He did and it was a lingering kiss. Even though they stood in his living room, fully clothed, Charlotte felt the rush that came with physical closeness to the man she loved. She still had a hard time believing her good fortune.
"You ready to go do it?" he asked.
Nodding, she responded, "Yes. More than ready."
"They must be waiting for us by now."
"Probably. Are you sure? Really sure?"
"Honey, I've wanted to marry you ever since we stopped dreaming. I was devastated to think you were in cahoots with Jaggi. I didn't want to believe it."
"You were so stern."
Rex laughed. "I'm sorry I scared you."
"I wasn't scared."
He gave her a skeptical look.
"Well, maybe a little scared."
"Let's go, my fearless flower."
No response was necessary. Charlotte was loved, and it wasn't for her beauty. It was because she was a worthwhile person. Rex loved her. It was written on his face. Charlotte hoped her face showed it, too. The scar was gone, and something special had replaced it. It would never hurt her again.
The End