City of Asclepius, Country of Chiron, Dimensional Plane 187
There was little worse than being stuck in a medical dimension as the undeserving prisoner of an overbearing doctor. And, since that doctor happened to be the Medical Supreme, by all rights the most powerful man on dimensional plane 187, Ariella was even more out of luck. For who would go up against such a powerful man in order to save an off-plane woman from an alternate reality? A woman with nothing and no one to make her rescue worthwhile?
Supreme Walter didn’t trap her in with chains or lock her away with iron bars. No, his plan was much simpler and much more diabolical. He had injected her with a virus, specifically engineered by him to keep her within his home and forever under his control. Her body became her jailer, the boundaries of her flesh her prison walls. She couldn’t run, couldn’t escape. If she wasn’t so tormented by what was done to her, she might actually admire the sick perfection in which the Medical Supreme kept her.
Then again, probably not.
Only the chemical antidote he pumped into the mansion’s air vents kept her alive. Sure, she had an inhaler so she could walk the grounds or for when he wished to take her out and show her off as his ward. But if she were out for longer than six hours, she’d die a horrifically painful death.
If Ariella disobeyed him, he took away her cure. If she vexed him or refused his orders, he took away her cure. If she didn’t make certain the servants had his evening sustenance on the table on time, he took away her cure. If she didn’t log in at least an hour of exercise a day and keep her food intake down, he took away her cure.
Yep, a definite pattern.
“And when he tires of me or demands more than I can give, he’ll take away my cure,” Ariella whispered, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Sometimes she barely recognized herself. It wasn’t just the toning of her daily exercise, though that did take away the softness from the figure prized in her youth. Her clothes were the height of Chiron fashion consisting of a pair of loose black slacks and a long gray shirt with a stripe of green down the front to match her eyes. She’d been forced to grow out her blonde hair, letting the waves fall down over back. Running her finger over her lips, she watched the color stain smear only to regroup exactly where it belonged.
One of the benefits of living on one of the most medically advanced planes of existence was the constant monitoring of health. She’d never felt better in her life—unless her cure was taken away, of course. Every meal, though bland, was perfectly balanced with her body’s dietary needs for the day. If she became overly stressed, one of the maids appeared to give her a shot in the neck to take the symptoms away. Her heartbeat was monitored by the mansion’s central computer, as was her location.
Captive. Prisoner. No escape.
The words filtered through her mind in a constant stream, repeating over and over throughout her day. She wondered if she were to run and never come back if she’d even be allowed to die. It was possible Supreme Walter would save her and force her back, after a sufficient amount of punishment of course.
Ironically, she’d come to this dimension for a cure, but while she was getting treatment there was a rebellion on her home dimension and her family was killed. Without her father’s political position, Divinity Corporation had little use in demanding the Medical Supreme send her back to her home reality. Besides, there was nothing on her home dimension to go back to but certain death. She’d be murdered the moment she appeared through the portal.
Though the viability of alternate realities was well known and accepted on her home dimensional plane, Divinity Corporation had the only known source of inter-dimensional travel technology. They were her only hope, for no one in the Chiron capitol city of Asclepius would take her word over the Medical Supreme, and Divinity was not coming to save her.
Out of the four hundred thirty-six known dimensions, Ariella had only been to three alternate realities—home, a Divinity base and this one. Each foreign dimension was like looking at a copy of her home world, if history had evolved in a different way. To a point there were many similarities. Languages were relatively similar. Some people appeared the same, but were not the same people. Certain events, like natural disasters, were shared, and the planet was still basically the same planet.
“But this is not home.” She looked at the ceiling of her bedroom. The longer she stared, the smaller the great room felt. Like all places on this plane, the room was overly sterile, each surface hard and unwelcoming but for a few engraved curls and wisps decorating the edges. Marble and metal blended together with great square columns to form self-sterilizing walls. The gray and green chairs and bedding matched her clothing. By Chiron standards, it was the most lavish of places.
Swallowing nervously, she again turned her attention to the long mirror. Supreme Walter had been acting strange, becoming more possessive of her time and ordering a full array of checkups—tests that centered a little too intimately on her private regions, as if confirming she was a virgin yet again. The man was obsessed ever since he’d discovered her maidenly status at her first medical appointment. Where she came from, it wasn’t such a rare thing. People were expected to wait, though she knew not everyone did.
Ariella was no fool. She knew what men wanted with their leering eyes and lustful bodies. She had seen the educational films, read the forbidden manuals, whispered girlish secrets to her now-passed sisters. She had seen the way Supreme Walter stared at her stomach and hips, as if calculating the children she would have. It left her feeling cold and empty.
“Tonight wear the new clothes I bought for you and wash your body well,” he had said as she stood from the dining table. “I have put scented lotion on your dressing table. Use it. Everywhere.”
Lifting her fingers, she smelled the herbal concoction on her hands. It was pleasantly sweet and a horrible omen of what was to come. If she thought it would do any good, she would jump from her second-story window. Though, the last time she tried to end her life, the mansion’s security devices activated and caught her in an invisible net. Walter had not been pleased.
“If I must do this, I beg the goddesses that he should find his release quickly.” Her thighs tightened, clamping together. The very idea of him coming over her naked body made her stomach ache. “Or perhaps his heart will seize before the time comes and I will be free.”
Who was she kidding? The other doctors would only save him.
* * *
“Father.” Dr. Sebastjan Walter didn’t appreciate being summoned to the family mansion—even if the summons had come a month earlier to give him plenty of time to make arrangements. He had no use for the cold marble and hollow feelings that filled his childhood home. The moment he was of age with his medical degree in hand, he’d left for his first and only post—a research facility on the far side of the planet, about as far away as he could get from the societal life of Asclepius and the mansion home of his Medical Supreme father.
“Sebastjan,” his father acknowledged with a self-satisfied grin. The smooth, almost youthful appearance of his skin belied his years, but the calculating light in his blue eyes made up for it. He’d allowed some of his black hair to gray along the temples. People often said Sebastjan looked like the man, but for his nose that came from his late mother’s side. Sebastjan didn’t necessarily like hearing that. “How happy I am that you have arrived safely, son.” The man looked at the screen on the wall. “If not on time.”
Sebastjan followed his father’s gaze to the time on the wall. He was over an hour late. “I didn’t have much choice.” He took a seat in front of his Walter’s desk, trying to force himself to relax in the wide-cushioned chair. He hated the oversized furniture. It made him feel like a kid again, dwarfed by his father’s all-consuming presence. He turned his attention back to the blank medical interface screen on the wall, wishing it were time for him to go. “Apparently, it was be here or my laboratory was going to be permanently sealed. I could have fought your shutdown order if you were to make it. My team has just come into possession of a new, very promising substance. However, I thought making an appearance would be easier.”
His father’s smile faded at the comment. “I had hoped you would have gotten over your childish impulses and lack of verbal control. You are a director of a research facility now, Sebastjan. Not some schoolboy running about in knickers, searching for ways to vex his father.”
Impulses? Sebastjan frowned. His father considered anything contrary to what he wanted a childish impulse whether it was words or deeds.
“I asked you not to call in that favor,” Sebastjan answered, irritated and growing more so by the second. “I could have made director on my own. I preferred to make director on my own.”
“In another five years or so,” the Medical Supreme quipped. “My son does not work for anyone. You are above the others of this planet. You were meant for more. Someday, you will be meant for my position. There are expectations that—”
“I don’t work for anyone? So you’re saying I don’t have to listen to you?” Sebastjan smiled at the very idea. If only.
“What substance?” his father asked, not deigning to answer his son’s rude interruption or insolent questions. “That blue mineral water we took off a visiting Divinity Corporation analyst? Your lab took point on that?”
“Yes. It’s from an underground spring on a plane called Staria. I’ve put in a request with someone named Sans Lady Lilith for trade. Apparently, she is a Divinity liaison living amongst a race of barbarians. I hope to obtain more.” Sebastjan relaxed. Medical advancements seemed to be the only subject in which he and his father could have a decent conversation. “It stays eternally warm, even without a heat source. If we can synthesize the mineral, just think of the possibilities. Deaths by freezing will be drastically decreased. All of our mountain and deep sea expedition teams can go longer and farther.”
“So you are waiting to hear from this Sans Lady Lilith?”
“Yes.” Sebastjan nodded. “The Starians are making a list of what they would like in return. I should be able to get it for a few medical lasers and a handheld unit. Though she appears civilized enough, I can’t imagine the barbarians knowing what to ask for beyond a few toys.”
“Ah, so there is no need for you to get back to your lab right away. Wonderful. You can stay here for a couple weeks.”
A couple weeks with my father? Ah, no. Make that no poppicockin way. “I can’t. There is much preparation to—”
“I insist.” His father stood. “I have a surprise planned, but first you must meet my ward. We call her Sans Ariella for she is without a surname. She came to us through the inter-dimensional portals. Her father was murdered on her home plane and she has nowhere else to go.”
“Another ward?” Sebastjan grimaced. Since his mother’s death when he was a boy, his father had taken in many “wards”. “I have no interest in meeting your newest lover. I am sure she’s as vapid as the last twenty.”
“Oh, you will want to meet Ariella. She is special.” His father picked up a news reader and handed it over to him. “Very special. Her mind is unspoiled by the logic of our society. She does not think like a doctor.” Walter hummed thoughtfully. “She is…innocent.”
Sebastjan took the small, square, electronic unit. The front of the social pages stared back at him. He stiffened. This had to be a joke. “You’re planning a wedding?”
“I believe the correct phrase would be, I have planned a wedding.” His father grinned. “And it takes place tonight.”
“I want no part in this,” Sebastjan said, standing. His father placed his hand on a scanner and he heard the exterior shields lowering around the house. The lights dimmed as the orange glow from the early evening sun was blocked out. Small panels opened up on the walls and candleholders slid out. Fake candles lit, giving a soft orange glow as the shields fell into place.
“You don’t have a choice. If I could do it without you, I would, but unfortunately the law requires that you be here as a willing participant when you take a wife.” His father smiled and Sebastjan fell back into his chair at the look. “One call and everything you hold dear will fall down around you, or you can do this one simple thing I ask of you.”
“You want me to get married to your lover?” Sebastjan had the vague impression that the ceiling would come crashing down at any moment. Out of all the orders he had been given in his life, this was the most insane. If not for the mandated medical checkups that said the Medical Supreme was fit to serve, Sebastjan would have thought his father was losing his mind. Instead, he knew the man was just calculating and manipulative. Walter would stop at nothing to force people to his will.
“She is not my lover and I command you to marry her. She is everything you need in a wife—a paragon of social values and morals, the very picture of decorum and etiquette. I have groomed her for you. She is meek and pleasant to look at…”
His father kept talking but Sebastjan barely heard a word he said. The kind of woman Walter described hardly sounded like someone he’d choose to marry. But then, he wasn’t choosing. Somehow, Sebastjan had always known that his marriage would be something of a political, if not genetically based, alliance. Though, he never expected his father would outright choose for him.
Sebastjan had dated the kind of women his father wanted for him—vapid, shallow, mindless future doctors’ wives. In Chiron if you weren’t a doctor, you did everything to make sure you were married to one and lived your life to serve. He didn’t want to be served. If he ever did marry, which wasn’t the plan, it wouldn’t be to someone his father would like. He wanted a woman who thought for herself, had her own work obsession and, quite frankly, left him alone so he could do his research.
Apparently, Walter didn’t think his son answered fast enough, because he warned, “Consider carefully. Think of your job, your friends, your life, your inheritance, your position as a doctor. I may be your father, but I am also Medical Supreme. I can take everything away from you.”
Sebastjan drew his finger over the screen, sliding the article up so he could see the announcement pictures. No surprise that the “bride” was pretty. The picture of her showed her turning toward the camera, green eyes lifting for the briefest of seconds as if to meet with his. His stomach tightened slightly at the recorded look, but he kept all emotion out of his voice and expression. “If I do this, you will promise never to meddle in my life or career again.” Sebastjan threw the news reader on the desk. It landed with a hard thud. “And I want it in writing. This is the last time. After this, my life is my own.”