Susan creased her forehead and screwed up her eyes, trying to drive away the beads of sweat that had accumulated on her cheekbones and the tip of her nose in some maddening kind of tickling torture. Her hairline and temples were equally wet, her hair moistly plastered against her hot skin where it remained uncovered. She grunted in frustration as warm, salt-heavy trickles started running slowly to accumulate yet again in a steady line where the rubbery fabric met her skin. Her nostrils flared as she sighed in angry frustration. She lay her head down against the hard floor, rubbing slightly the itch away and drawing scant relief from the coolness of the stone against her flushed face. She swallowed, eyes closed, breathing softly. After a few seconds, the fabric seemed to loosen off ever so slightly so she found herself once again forced to immobility as she carefully coaxed the rubbery restraint in to relaxing its grip over her body.

The struggle had been going on for hours now, or so she felt, and it was now painfully obvious that she was on the losing side. She sighed again, her whole body tensing up under the strain of her pent-up anger, a useless rag doll discarded by a careless girl. And still she could not figure out what had happened and how her very own suit could have turned into a stifling prison for her body.

She raised her head and twisted her neck gingerly, trying to catch another glimpse of her body over her shoulder. She winced as the fabric tightened its embrace and crushed her lips and cheeks yet again. The narrow, black synthetic bands had not budged a millimetre despite her frantic wriggling and crawling. She flexed her arms and thigh muscles, only to feel the restraints bite again into the skin at her shoulders, elbows, wrists, thighs, knees and ankles. The suit had the same disturbingly uniform greyness and clung to her body like a wet indecent shroud, outlining every muscle line, enhancing each curve and nook, making her feel more naked than ever before -including the rare times when she had dared trust her powers to clad her.

Susan tensed up again, tug slowly and deliberately, trying to uncross her wrists and ankles. More sweat trickled down as she strove in tight silence, trying hard to keep her body as motionless as possible. Time froze as she stayed suspended in iron-hard contraction, her face, breasts, belly and thighs squashed against the rugged, unyielding floor. She held on, blocking every thought, focusing on the bonds, willing them to break. Held until every single muscle was crying mercy. Until tiny sparkling stars were dancing in front of her eyes.

Moaned in stifled despair.

And collapsed once more.

A useless, rubber doll.

Once again she found herself lying helpless on the floor, her prone body swathed in heavy darkness, listening to distant creaks and hums, with the muffled throb of her pulse echoing dully under the thin skin of her cocoon. She flexed her fingers faintly, trying to coax sensation back into her numb hands and arms as the fabric maintain a punishing grip of its rebellious prey.

Susan closed her eyes again and resumed her relaxing routine. She took slow, shallow breaths through her nose and focused on the cool air streaming softly into her throat and down her trachea while she clamped down on the budding surges of panic that threatened to overcome her as her lungs instinctively clamoured for more. It took immense concentration to reduce her perception to this small, vital activity, away from the pinching sensation that worried her at the joints, crotch and wherever her forms offered unwitting resistance to the fabric. Her butt felt uncomfortably compressed and exposed, and she shivered despite knowing that her erstwhile uniform protected her efficiently against the coolness of her cell.

Hazy memories started drifting and mixing into her mind as she lulled herself to half-sleep. Dreams and reality coalesced languidly into a relentless jumble of disturbing scenes. Pictures of Britannica assailed her as she knelt in silent defeat, overcome by legions of gynoids while a naked and bound Susan had to endure smug Ticia's teasing in rubbery silence. The young woman's downcast eyes contemplated dusty hard, windswept ground as the Old Man and the Golden Amazon loomed over her. Darkness overwhelmed her then she sat trembling and sobbing on the toilets at work, naked once again. Crushed by helplessness. Lost to the world and herself.

Moistness rose past her half-closed eyelids to mingle with sweat. Now she was free again, rising against a cerulean blue sky, blossoming under the warm caress of a summer sun. Expanding under an explosion of rubble, dust and piercing light. She leapt and rebounded on a flashing metal roof, light as a feather, harder than steel. Stood in front of the rushing truck on the deserted road, drunk with careless confidence. Braced herself. Crouched slightly. Laughed exultantly as the wailing juggernaut crashed into her in a feast of broken headlights and tortured coachwork.

Her mind spun in dizzy realisation then darkness threatened again and she was stumbling blindly away, helpless and lost again. Walking puppet-like as air was suddenly driven from her lungs by stifling pressure encasing her body, stiffening each movement. Her fingers groped blindly at her face. She clawed at the greying fabric oozing down over her eyes, nose and mouth, whimpered in panic when air stopped coming in and deep night surged into her. Saw more than herself collapsed.

A useless, rubber doll.

Broken.

*

 "My, girl, you mustn't get yourself into such a state…!"

Susan started at the smug, intruding voice, only to wince immediately as the suit and restraints sanctioned her carelessness. She tried to look sideways without having to raise her head but only caught misty sight of a shadow slipping past her. The woman knelt beside her and ran a soft finger along the exposed small of her back, up her spine and the side of her neck. She paused at the edge of her gag before crushing a bead of sweat rolling down her temple with a delicate fingertip.

 "Been a bad night, eh...?" She commiserated. Susan sighed tensely, fighting as much to make sense of the word as to identify their owners. If only she could...

A hand gripped her firmly and she was rolled onto her back, arms and hands pressing hard into her spine as the woman straddled her and sat gently on her thighs.

 "So, did you miss me yet?" The closing face enquired teasingly. It was the perfume as much as the tone that finally did it. Susan groaned in wide-eyed protest and surprise as Ticia snapped two fingers and a dim light revealed her jubilant smile.

 "Nnmpphh!!"

 "Oh yes!" She laughed, leaning on her elbows and bringing her lips inches from Susan's wrapped mouth. Susan froze, her mind sizzling as she vainly tried to take stock of her predicament and how the hell she had got herself into it. Ticia held her in a long, mesmerising stare then rose and sat on her knees, hands resting on her thighs, a blue cat contemplating her hapless new toy and trying to decide how to best play with it before lunchtime.

 "Now, first things first, let's get you more comfortable..." Ticia's fingers brushed against the inside of her left wrist, which caused Susan to sigh instinctively as her suit suddenly loosened up and freed her constricted breasts and waist. She breathed deeply through her nostrils and gave another long, blissful sigh.

 "Better, isn't it?" Ticia said, looking pleased at her young captive's reaction. "I'm sorry I had to apply such stringent measures, but our last encounter left me rather, -" she arched a thoughtful eyebrow- "circumspect as to how best deal with your good self..."

Susan squirmed faintly under her captor's weight, tasting what little -yet immense- comfort she had been granted and hoping Ticia would follow on by freeing her mouth.

All she got was another winning smile.

 "Not so fast, my dear," she chided good-humorously and traced the thin moist edge of the gagging fabric with two long, gloved fingers. "I have a few things to settle with you before I can allow these sweet lips to challenge me yet again." There was a definite twinkle in her eyes as she spoke and Susan frowned in a mix of anxiety and curiosity.

 "Right," Ticia gloated. "I see I have your attention. You'll forgive me for sounding so girlishly smug but I must confess I really am enjoying the position. No pun intended..." She gave Susan a quick, mocking look and chuckled as she saw the top of her cheekbones blush above the blue line of her face restraint. "Well, anyway," she pursued with a mischievous grin that only increased Susan's hot embarrassment. "I knew it was only a matter of time before our paths met again. Sounds a bit cliché to put it this way but that's really how I felt first time I saw you. Couldn't even blame you for all the discomfort you caused me in our last encounter." A fleeting shadow passed over her face that made Susan cringe inwardly, although she would have been hard put to say whether it was from fear or -more puzzling, guilt. Ticia seemed to feel her uncertainty and she leaned forward again, her feral white smile more than brushing her gagged lips.

 "You did give me a hard time, you know that?" She whispered hoarsely, drinking in Susan's helplessness like an addict some long-awaited dose. The young woman watched in bemused fascination, thoughts frozen as time.

 "There! You see?" Ticia exclaimed, rising abruptly and shaking her short black hair. "No matter how, you keep deranging me!" She laughed, hands lapping firmly on her thighs. "How on earth do you do that? You look such a sweet girl...!"

Susan screwed up angry eyes at the phrase. Did the wretched woman have to rub her nose so deep into her own failure? Self-resentment only grew worse as she felt hot indignation light up her sweaty face and open her up to Ticia's scorn.

Yet there was none to read on the sophisticated face. An uncomfortable lull followed during which each adversary seemed to test the other's substance, trying to figure out the enigmatic puzzle they had lost themselves into.

 "C'mon," Ticia finally volunteered, "let me help you up." She came to crouch beside her and slipped her hands under her shoulders and neck. Susan puffed as she forced her numb back to up and forward, and her cramped legs slipped awkwardly beneath her thighs. Ticia steadied her and gave her another of her long, inquisitive looks.

 "As I just said, I'm sorry I had to subject you to such a treatment, but you are somebody to be reckoned with, whether you believe it or not."

Susan lifted surprised eyebrows at the open praise, if not pride, she had just felt in Ticia's words. She gave her an equally inquiring glance.

 "Sooo fresh..." Ticia teased again, flicking the end of Susan 's nose playfully and gloating at her indignant groan. "That's what makes you dangerous, you know... A real ticking time-bomb. Unfortunately -or fortunately for me, in fact-, you chose the wrong suit to replace your first costume..." Susan tensed up and flashed an accusing look at her captor, cursing herself inwardly for swallowing the bait so easily and treating Ticia to a girlish, silly-looking glare.

 "The suit, darling..." Ticia explained, as if to an especially slow-witted child, and giving an explicit flutter of the hand at their rubber-covered bodies. Gosh, but the woman could render herself really aggravating! "How do you think I traced you back last night, after you had wrecked yet another of my plans, not to mention my truck and its crew? And how did I get you back here unconscious with ample time to settle you up?" She smiled at the last word and brushed her inner wrist again. Susan felt her whole body compress as the suit once again tightened itself, though not severely, all over her. She looked at Ticia in alarm, and dawning realisation drowned any urge to blame herself this time. The suit immediately loosened up as the woman pointedly brushed the hidden remote and memories resurfaced into Susan's mind just as air flowed back into her lungs.

It had been another patrol night, just to get the feel of her powers and help herself come to terms with the frightening potential she increasingly felt bubbling inside her. She knew by then there was something wrong with the suit, the way it seemed to slow her down, dampen her energy, make each use of it more taxing, less efficient. Yet she also had drawn -cowardly, she now acknowledged- comfort from this, as if the fabric somehow could prevent her from setting her inner energies loose, from giving in to some true, dark, wolfish nature. As if the suit was the only barrier left between sanity and simply running amok.

Then she had spotted the truck scudding away city centre. Sensed the distant alarms and the presence of armed men inside. She saw herself soar high above the roof, dive down onto the pavement. Race the speeding vehicle on the still warm and wet surface of the road. Jubilation building up inside her chest and belly as power welled up inside her and sent her vaulting above her prey, crushing the weak roof under her steely heels and leaping up high and forward. She felt the passion on her masked face as the truck barged howling into her frail-looking tri-coloured silhouette. Tasted the raw, preternatural, frighteningly sexual enjoyment as the flimsy metal shell crushed miserably into her diamond-hard, rock-heavy body and went skidding across the road and into a dirty-red brick wall.

She remembered standing up on increasingly wobbly legs, the world starting to spin around her while dark cold undertook to eat away at the light inside her. There had been puzzlement, as when one will wake up from a fevered dream, and devouring hunger as well. Rising fear as all light and warmth and colours seemed to desert her, leak out of her very soul and surrender her to the loneliness of the night.

She winced as panic and darkness engulfed her, leaving but a frail, girlish body, an empty husk inside a living, contracting shroud, lost and forsaken in a blind alley.

 "Oh yes..." Ticia whispered. "It was a child's game indeed. So easy it took me months to figure it out, and then develop the right programme to 're-appropriate' your suit... and the lovely present it contained."

Susan looked down at her bound body for a long moment then lifted dismayed eyes at Ticia's beguiling face. There was no triumph in her eyes yet, only some strange kindness, almost a feeling of togetherness.

 "Don't blame yourself for it, girl," she said softly. "We all need someone to put us through our paces."

Susan could not tear herself from the piercing eyes. Worse, she felt hers brimming with tears.

*
 "I don't like this place!" Susan mused more to herself than Ticia. The rest of the sentence died on her lips as she felt Ticia's surprised gaze on her and realised she had spoken aloud. She felt a chill ran down her spine and braced herself for the oozy touch of constricting fabric crawling back up over her mouth to reduce her to punishing silence. So careless of her to challenge the enemy, when she had just been granted unexpected relief and was barely starting to enjoy the fresh, humid air on her face! And still she found it difficult to think of the rubber-armoured woman in so adversarial terms. As if despite the definitely confrontational nature of their encounters and the rough treatment she had inevitably submitted her to, Ticia had proved more of a challenger than a true foe. A force to be reckoned with, to be countered, fought and perhaps mastered, as one would a strong wind or rushing water, some wild element that fate would lay in her path to test her resilience and survival skills as a masked heroine.

So far she had shown little of these skills in her dealings with her, and it was only through Ticia's good will that she was now allowed to walk unhampered, with only minimum restraints pinning her arms back and fast against her waist. Now she could expect the electronic-layered thongs to snake down Ticia's arm and lash at her limbs any second.

 "Do you?" Ticia enquired, concern -with perhaps a hint of disappointment- chiming in her voice. "Does it feel a bit too claustrophobic, perhaps?"

Susan hesitated. This sounded more as an invitation to chat than some devious teasing game meant to let her get herself into deeper water. Though it would be some strange kind of idle chat, being walked in restraints through length after length of humid rocky tunnels by a tall, high-heeled, blue rubber-clad dominatrix. Anymore of this and she might as well book a psychiatrist's sofa for the next twenty years, she thought bitterly.

 "Yeah," she finally conceded without yet looking up. "I wish I could see the sky..."

Oh great. So profound. So mature. Hark the grown girl taking on the world!

 "I can understand that," Ticia replied simply, sounding equally reflective. "You belong to the light... Not that I would describe myself as a one of these murky evil-doers you find in cheap comic books, mind." She added laughingly and as a second thought that made Susan's cheek get hot again.

 "No, you certainly aren't..." She confirmed without thinking.

 "Well, I'm glad you show so much leniency on this unworthy felon!" She teased good-naturedly as they came near a heavy wooden door guarded by two rubber-clad guards, a man and a woman wearing outfits of the same bland grey as her treacherous suit and bearing matt black, light automatic rifles. The dim neon light that lined the ceiling seemed to cast more shadow than anything else on their motionless silhouettes, making them look like eerie, anachronistic statues in this timeless, sunless setting. Ticia gave them a brief salute of the hand to which they responded with a smart, braced nod of their anonymous, masked heads. Apparently not everybody felt that uncomfortable under these stifling garments... or else they had far better self-control!

To Susan's surprise, the door opened and closed behind them in an equally automatic and silent way. She preceded Ticia into a large, low-ceilinged room also carved into the rock, although much more skill had been put in the making and furnishing of the place. The walls were smooth and straight, adorned with rich, heavy tapestries hanging from carved lintels. A massive, Victorian-style desk occupied the centre and was surrounded by matching, equally precious-looking bookcases filled with ancient looking volumes, glass cases holding various archaeological items, small tables and deep leather armchairs. Flat, wide screens had been fitted to one wall and broadcast live pictures of various other places which obviously were part of a same, very large compound. Now where such a base might be located baffled the imagination. Not even the old docks or industrial wasteland would be large or inconspicuous enough to host such a labyrinth. Which meant that she must have had been driven or -more likely- flown away from the city after her capture.

 "Here, make yourself comfortable." Ticia invited regally and helped Susan sit into one of the armchairs facing the desk. The young woman nearly was hard put not to sigh as the well-used leather surrendered softly to her weight and seemed to envelop her in a warm, polish-smelling embrace that reminded her almost painfully how stiff and cold she felt. She allowed herself to relax as much as she dared without looking too grateful or meek, and watched attentively as Ticia foraged into a low cabinet and came back with a shiny metal flask and tumbler.

 "You recognise this!" She stated with a mischievous smile and poured the clear, sweet-smelling liquid. Susan nodded and bent slightly forward to drink from the proffered goblet. It had the same taste though this time it was mainly warmth that radiated into her body, taking away but a fraction of the tiredness she felt.

 "It's efficient though slightly less powerful. I don't want you to feel too much... fit, let's say!" Ticia answered by way of an explanation and apology to her unasked question. She left the liquor on the edge of the desk then walked behind and sat herself into a large swivelling leather armchair. She tilted it back and crossed her feet on the polished top with open delectation. Susan was sorely tempted to do the same and sink into her seat but held fast and waited.

 "Took me some time and money to refurbish the place, you know," Ticia said, stippled-fingers propping her chin and smiling lips. "Though the previous owner was kind enough to leave quite tasteful furniture and material behind..." She nodded at the place in general. "Fascinating what a man can do with time and money to spare..."

Susan frowned slightly. So far she was at a loss to see where all this was leading.

 "What I mean is," Ticia resumed pointedly, "this!" All the flat screens on the left wall blinked up at once and displayed a single giant picture that made Susan start. Her wrists and arms tugged instinctively against her bonds and she looked from the display to Ticia and back in questioning alarm.

Boddicea's Spear filled the screens, its ancient blade and amazingly smooth shaft gleaming brightly under an array of searching laser beams. The camera panned out and revealed two other artefacts - a Greek golden shield which Susan recognised as Athena's Shield, stolen form Athens' museum weeks earlier, and sombre, slightly Roman-looking metal helmet that bore Celtic carvings on the crown and cheek-plates.

 "Boddicea's Spear, Athena's Shield and Artorius's Helmet!" Anow standing Ticia proclaimed triumphantly. "The Spear, well, you know about it," she smiled crookedly. "One of Claudius' commanders brought it back to Rome after the conquest. It's only recently the British Museum recovered it. The shield, by right, might as well be called Theseus' Shield, as he is said to have received it from the hands of the goddess so he could defeat the gorgon Medusa. The Greeks would not part with it, of course. And the helmet... well, she sighed, you probably never heard of it, like most in fact. I recovered it from a hidden burial mound in Brittany last month. Could hardly believe my own luck." Her voice dropped to a reverent sigh. "King Arthur's very own, fashioned in the Roman way and embossed with Celtic mystical signs, as befit a pagan king." Her gaze suddenly turned inward. "You would almost believe in destiny!" She mused.

 "These belong to museums!" Susan protested, standing defiantly despite her bound hands. "They are the people's heritage. Our heritage. You've got no right...!" She looked at Ticia wildly, feeling her heart beat madly inside her chest, cold sweat suddenly trickling underneath her suit down the hollow of her back. Ticia looked back, apparently stunned at the sudden outburst of passion.

 "Indeed they are," she placated, "but right at this moment, they are far more than this." Her gaze grew intent. Susan could feel electricity tingling inside her. She clenched her fists behind her. The air all around suddenly seemed hot.

 "What do you mean?" She hissed, blinking the rising sweat and fury away.

 "They are a key, my friend!" Ticia said, eyes glowing. "To far greater, hardly imaginable treasures!"

The picture froze on the three artefacts. Laser lights criss-crossed the scene, imprisoning the ancient relics in a glaring net of artificial lights.

 "You see," she pursued, "the former master of these premisces was an enlightened man in his very own way. A bit daft as well, I'll happily concede, end-of-the-world mumbo jumbo and all, but still..." She took a deep breath, and looked intently at her prisoner. "Anyway, he had a passion for archaelogy, though his approach to the field may have been a little... biased by his views." She gave another crooked smile. "But the point is, he was on to something. Something big and disturbing." Her gaze grew feverish for an instant. "There's more to myths that the stuff of imagination, girl. And today I will prove it."

Ticia's face stilled, conviction and appeal haunting her hazelnut eyes. Silence hovered as the picture of the stolen artefacts loomed large over them.

 "THIEF!!"

Susan barely heard herself yell. She was already dashing at Ticia over the desk. The woman had only time to step aside and Susan's knees hit her hard in the shoulder, sending her crashing to the wall while her assailant propped a light foot against the rocky surface and flipped sideways to the floor. Ticia's hand instinctively went to her wrist but Susan was faster and kicked it away with a flashing jab that drew a painful yelp from her adversary. Suddenly the room felt too small, its walls and furniture crowding on the two combatants and Susan gave another vicious swipe of the leg at the heavy desk and sent it flying across the room where it crashed against the top of the armchairs and toppled, crushing their backs under its massive weight.

Ticia used the distraction to roll backward and out of reach from the demented girl. She crouched just as Susan turned a fiery gaze up to her and stroke the inside of her wrist frantically but in vain. Alarmed fists were pounding on the door but Susan was already launching at her again and she jumped aside, rolled on her already bruised shoulder and scampered behind the upturned desk, blind with pain.

 "Too tight..!! Can't breathe...!!"

She loooked up in a daze and saw Susan swaying and tugging frantically at her bonds, her slender waist and small chest constricted under the pressure as she bent and strained the fabric to its limits. Voices called from behind the door. She ignored them and focused on the desk. It lay partly on top of the crushed armchair so there was a small space between the writing surface and the floor. She crawled to a side and slid her arm underneath, fingers groping feverishly over the smooth surface. The tactile switch should be somewhere off the centre and there might be enough space for the cover of the cache to slide off. She winced as flashes of pain coursed through her shoulder and back and she stretched her muscles to a maximum trying to release the catch. Her fingers suddenly slipped over a small, hardly detectable surface and she let out a sob of relief and fear as the thin panel slid and uncovered two-thirds of the cache before getting blocked by the floor.

 "HAN!!"

Ticia started as she heard the sharp crack of breaking bonds and a deadly silence fell over the room. She resumed her mad scramble and had just closed her hand on the metallic surface that protruded slightly from its foamy cushioning when she felt herself dragged away and lifted into the air. She gasped in shock as she was hefted across the room and her back crashed against the wall, with the thick tapestries barely dulling the impact that jarred her spine and ribcage. A small trickle of blood ran down the side of her mouth where she had bit her lip and she looked down into Susan's glowing eyes, down the length of her stretched, muscle-toned arms.

 "So much strength and anger in such a small body!" She thought as her arms rested limply against her sides and her fingers unobtrusively tightened their grip around the handle of the flat, barrel-less pulser.

 "The armour must not be tampered with!" She heard Susan hiss through clenched teeth.

She pulled the trigger.

 "AAAIIIIEEEE!!!"

Susan went to the floor screaming as the flow of combined electric pulses and signals overwhelmed her, making every hair on her body stand on end. Ticia hit the floor hard and had to throw herself aside to avoid her furious thrashing. She propped herself on unsteady legs and pulled the trigger again. Susan gave a yell of pain and fury and threw herself at the desk, thumping into it and sliding against its wooden frame, each muscle alive and twitching beyond her control. Ticia moved slowly in, aiming at Susan while her fingers were busy connecting two filaments from the body of her weapon to the inside of her wrists. She thumbed a switch on the side of the pulser and smiled when she felt the suit respond to the emergency download. Susan had barely steadied her legs and was trying to get up. Ticia looked at the dishevelled black hair and sweat-drenched face and felt for a moment that she was facing another person.

A person she dared not see at large.

 "Don't..." Susan sighed blindly.

Ticia touch-triggered her attack. The synthetic snake bonds whipped away from her stretched arm and lashed at Susan's body just as the fabric of her suit swallowed her whole head and started constricting again. Susan yelled silently, her cry of anguish absorbed by the grey rubber, stood up, tripped and tumbled under the onslaught of the programmed leashes. Lines of fire criss-crossed her body and drowned her perception under the hammering sound of her blood thumping wildly in her veins. Her arms got buried into her waist and tummy while her legs merged into a single, paralysed limb. She gasped as her crushed breasts forced out what little air remained in her lungs and more winding snakes pressed themselves across her wide-open, rubber-covered mouth.

Then she was falling into one last, darker tunnel.

*

 "Increase intensity by a factor..."

Darkness. Rising slowly.

 "We've got harmonics..."

Breathing through her nose.

 "Focus..."

Coming to the surface. Black veil fading away.

 "Definitly harmonics, Ma'm."

Fuzzy. Tired. Empty.

 "Stand by for recording and analysis," the voice said.
 "Yes, M'am. Channels open. Standing by."
 "Download!"

Susan blinked slowly, striving hard to bring focus back to her vision in which elongated shapes swam through liquid opacity. She forced herself to take deep, slow breaths while her congealed brains painfully reorganised the growing flow of perceptions. She felt the weight of her body pulling down at her outstretched arms and crossed hands. Pressure in her bladder and against her buttocks where her heels dug in. The harshness of the floor on her kneecaps. Short loose strands of hair pasted to her brow. Hot needles prickling her lips and cheeks under the forbidding rubber layers. She took one more, deeper breath and let out an audible sigh.

Back to square one.

A gloved hand tipped her chin up and she raised weary eyes to the slightly bruised but still smiling face. Ticia gazed at her critically and gave a slight nod as Susan fought the last of the way back to consciousness.

 "You are one tough little nut to crack..."

Susan frowned feebly. Her whole body felt sore and numb at once. She sent commands to her limbs but only managed to wag a few lazy fingers. Ticia raised a hand and checked the restraints above her head. Susan felt the snake ties shift lazily under her touch and readjust their grip on her wrists and forearms. From what she could feel so far, she was kneeling on the floor with her back to a hard surface to which her hands had been solidly pinned. A pinching sensation at waist level and around the top of her thighs and ankles betrayed the presence of more thongs.

Her eyelids felt heavy again and it was all she could do not to slip back into oblivion.

 "C'mon girl, perk up...!" Ticia chided and snapped two fingers in front of her. "You don't want to miss what's coming next...!" She gave her another critical look then seemed to decide that she was back. There was an awkward pause. "Then you'll understand everything," she said softly. "And I'll finally have time to take proper care of you..."

Susan watched her walk back to the centre of the huge room she now found herself in. Numerous consoles and apparels had been set up in a circle that surrounded a long stainless steel table on which the three artefacts had been laid bare for scrutiny. A confusion of cables and boxes radiated from there to the four corners of the room where huge metal casings held matt-black super memory computers and scanners. Beside and above the central table, long, thin waldo arms paraded all kinds of sensors in a cold, inquisitive choreography.

Ticia bent over a console while she listened to one of her henchmen's report. Tension permeated her whole silhouette, outlining her long leg and back muscles under the tight blue outfit.

 "It's some kind of sequence repeating itself, whatever way you look at it," the man explained deferentially. "It will become apparent if you target the right signal at the three artefacts simultaneously." A waldo hovered over the table and shadowed the three pieces, as if to emphasize his point. "But we can't get a sustained vibration long enough to extract it. The computer's safety switch on after a few seconds. Maximum overload." He spread helpless arms.

 "The old man was right all along," Ticia mused then fell silent as she pondered the result. "We'll need a live conduct to channel the message." She gave the man a piercing, searching look. "Plug me in!" She said.

 "Ma'am," the henchman wavered, "we don't know... it could be..." But Ticia had already extracted filaments from her wrists and connected to the console before her.

 "Do it!" She ordered. The man dithered a second or two then nodded and join two of his mates at a nearby desk.

 "Hhhmnnnnn....!!"

Ticia turned as she sensed more than heard Susan's alarmed protest through the subdued hubub envelopping the room. She frowned slightly then flashed a comforting smile. Susan stood transfixed as if witnessing the slow-motion unfolding of a nightmare. Ticia turned around, nodded to her team and braced herself.

 "Now!" She said.

Susan never had time to protest or even shut her eyes.

Neither did anyone.

The onrush of blinding light squirted from the three artefacts and engulfed the whole set like a ravenous nova. Heat blazed out and lit up flesh, metal and rock alike, scorching surfaces and vaporizing tears. Burning silence howled at the abused fabric of space, stretching and pushing and battling with blind, primeval fury.

 "I'm blind!" Susan wailed wordlessly to herself as she felt the skin of her face parch under the blast. "Dear God I'm blind I'm blind I'm blind I don't wanna die I didn't even try dear God I'm blind..."

She shut her eyes and mind to the violating clamour but still its echo forced flooded through the flimsy walls of reason and clamoured for recognition.

VALIAS

She squeezed her eyelids shut but still she drowned in the living pool of heat and light which poured into, through and out of Ticia's ghostly silhouette in a maelstrom of rage and elation.

TIME

She was alone and being devoured. She was elsewhere and clawing her way out. She was everywhere and suffusing sensation was driving her to the brink of insanity.

YES

She burnt. She hungered. She ached. She feasted. She seized and surrendered. She yearned. Wanted. Claimed. Possessed.

Moaned in total ravishment.

MORE.

Darkness fell. Motionless silence like heatless velvet surrounded her like a husk, sheltering her from the outside chaos.

Susan hugged her knees hard, listening to the frantic thumping of her heart. Her fingers clawed into her naked skin with a vengeance, groping for some desperate purchase on sanity.

Where was your strength when you needed it? Where was courage? Where was will?

Where was Britannica?

She hugged herself tighter, teeth grinding in fear and anger.

All that she had ever felt.

What had happened to the promise?

You'll never walk alone.

But alone she was. Her life was a sham and Britannica but a shadow, a convenient dream to hide in when reality bit too much. A by-product of her sorry frustrations.

You could not rely on her.

Only on yourself.

YES

*

She opened her and looked into the fire.

Tears had long dried away and she had none left to shed. She faced the blinding void and let its searing tongue wrap itself around and into her.

Strangely there was no pain. Nor did pain matter.

She looked into the fire and saw it take shape.

She did not fear. Shape was natural. Shaping itself a universal privilege. It did not have to be given or won or learnt. It was there from the beginning, to bring about the end.

Shape and change.

Life.

YES

Colours.

YES

Oneself.

YES

She looked down at her kneeling body as the last shades of grey faded away and the light bathed her naked skin. Smiled as the first streams of colours oozed through and started to flow, grow and mingle. Allowed them to follow their natural course to her heart's desire. Wanted to laugh at the ease and simplicity of it all. Felt like shaking her head at the vanity of doubts.

Slowly Britannica rose in a whirlwind of light and power, nimble, muscle-toned limbs radiating energy and strength under the tricoloured skin, short, shaggy black hair dancing in the elemental storm.

NOW, said the tall, slender silhouette that had once been Ticia's, raising a pure white arm and offering an open hand.

Britannica looked at the familiar yet uncanny figure, the proud bearing, the beguiling face.

The intent, blinding, devouring gaze.

NOW, she repeated, hand stretched out in welcome, in appeal, in claim.

Britannica looked around her at the conquered place, its outline all but erased in the corona storm.

She held the newcomer in a detached, open gaze.

Then she was gone.

*

The sun was a receding line of fire on the cloudy horizon when Britannica raised her head and cast a weary glance at the amber walls of the bedroom. Distant evening sounds invited themselves through the half-open window. She turned and saw her reflexion in the glass door of the bookshelf, a coloured ghost against a background of comic books.

She sighed softly and watched as the Union Jack obediently faded away and revealed her small, slightly girlish body. She stood there for a long time, as if acquainting herself again to some long-lost relative, and responded in kind to her reflection's shy smile.

The journey back would remain a mystery. For now. So would the events of the day be laid to rest until...

She blinked and yawned widely, tears of exhaustion moistening the rim of her eyelids. Emotions seemed to have drained away, leaving her within a bubble of calm that felt benign and reassuring. She looked down at her open hands. Tiny whirls of colours danced in her palms, light and careless. She closed them softly.

The sheet were cool and comforting under her warm skin. Susan crawled silently across the mattress and blissfully buried her face into the light, plump pillows. She spread sleepily across the bed and let the whispering caress of the dying day lull her to sleep.

***

 

© Nathan Dayspring/ Tish Summers, 2004/05
© Tish Summers, 2004/05