Janice woke slowly, stretching luxuriously on the softness of her bed. There was something about satin sheets that made her feel like a princess. She'd never had had them in her own house - they were simply too difficult to keep looking good without an army of servants.
Well, that wasn't a problem for her now.
She smiled to herself at how her life had changed over the past several days. It was truly amazing how quickly and drastically things could change. From southeast Texas swamp land to very dry desert, from living a life as a professional nurse to now being revered as a queen... It is true - life did move fast. She was grateful, too, for the things that had stayed the same, particularly that her daughter and her son were with her.
Then there was Michael. She loved him more than ever, but he was becoming moody and distant. That was understandable, she thought, based on the sudden nature of what had happened and how quickly he'd had to be brought up to speed. But the sullenness was difficult to handle, particularly from someone from whom she'd always derived so much strength. He'd retreated into a kind of shell and it was difficult to know how to handle that.
When they'd first met, she knew that he'd suffered a great loss in his first wife. He'd truly loved her and was not looking for a replacement. There was no denying the connection they'd felt, however, and soon the bond between them was strong and real. She was never jealous of the time he'd spent with his first wife, never worried that he loved her less. In fact, she was grateful for the things that she'd taught Michael about how to treat a woman. His first wife had been a strong, intelligent, and patient woman. Janice wished she could have met her.
Gently swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, her bare feet resting lightly on the floor, she ran her fingers through her deep auburn hair. Her blue eyes sparkled in the dim light coming from the bathroom. Michael had insisted that they leave one light on. Deep inside this man-made mountain cave the darkness could be complete and suffocating. She knew also that it was a psychological link for him, a link to the outside world that he'd perhaps never see again.
She stood and walked to the bathroom, pulling her nightgown up over her head. She wanted a shower. A glance at the clock showed that it was 5:37 AM. Her unfailing internal alarm clock had waked her at around this time for as long as she could remember, except on the few rare days she indulged in sleeping in - until around 7 AM, usually. She ran the shower to warm up the tiles and air and then stepped into the hot stream of water. The morning was the best time to shower, she reflected, lathering up. It awakens one's body and relaxes muscles ahead of the day. Her eyes closed as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, feeling the warm water course over her face. There really wasn't much better than a shower...
When she opened her eyes she gave a little start. Michael had quietly come into the bathroom and was watching her shower. He often did that, appreciating her body with an almost awestruck and worshipful gaze. She smiled coyly and splashed some water towards him. His smile was warm and his eyes spoke of the passion he felt for her.Under normal circumstances, he might have joined her in the shower. Lately he'd felt a little distant, though. Perhaps it was the place - something about it made him feel like he was being watched all the time, and that was not conducive to romantic liaisons... She'd assured him that wasn't the case, but the distance remained all the same.
"Good morning, sweetheart," she said. "Will you please hand me my towel?"
Michael reached for the towel, not having to stand to pull it from the towel rack above his head, and held it between his outstretched arms. This was another thing she loved, feeling him dry her body gently, slowly, appreciating her curves and skin. It was a mundane act when done by one's self, but when performed by one's lover it became a very intimate act of service and devotion. He leaned over to kiss her shoulders after he rubbed them dry with the towel.
She turned to face him, wrapping the towel around her body - more for warmth than for modesty. She looked up into his clear eyes and could feel her heart melt right down into her toes. She truly, deeply loved her man.
"Janice," he began, somewhat tremulously. "We need to get out of here. I don't like this place. I don't like what these people are doing. And I don't like what it's doing to you."
The mood had vanished almost as quickly as the steam rising from her still-damp body. "What do you mean? What is it doing to me? I'm just the same person I always was - you just now know more about me."
"That's true - I do know more about you. But it's also true that these people are changing you. Look around, Janice. These people are almost all crazy. The ones that aren't are automatons, obeying orders without any thought to the repercussions. Please, Janice - let's just get out of here."
"You know who these people are. You know who I am. Where could we go that we would ever be free from them - from the obligation that I bear? We could run, but we'd never be able to hide..."
"Janice. What you say makes sense, but my heart tells me otherwise. I see the way you act around these men, see the way the power is affecting you. It scares me to death. Please, please Janice. Let's get out of here!"
The pleading, almost begging tone in his voice shocked Janice. For a moment her resolve wavered: she did want to get out of there. But then she reflected on how pitiful he sounded. "A weapon formed but unused is a useless thing," she said. "A person trained to lead who does not is just as useless. This is what I was raised to do, who I was born to be. I will meet my destiny, Michael. I want you by my side. Please try to see what good these actions may have on the world. Look at our intentions. Could there be anything more noble than looking for ways to rectify the gross injustices in the world? To promote civil dialog and increase democratic discourse? Those have always been the highest goals of the team. They are what drives us now."
Michael looked as though he'd been slapped. "Violence is never a good solution to any problem. Giving terrible weapons into the hands of those who lack oversight and moral discretion is a recipe for disaster. People who talk over the barrels of loaded weapons do so with strident and caustic voices, with malice in their hearts. This kind of brinkmanship will unravel the very fabric of society. You must see that! You must see the madness you're unleashing on the world! The world doesn't need equalizing weapons to rectify inequities, the world needs education, compassion, and brotherly love!"
He trailed off, realizing he was standing, shaking. The last few sentences had been shouted at the woman he loved. She'd let the towel drop to the floor, naked, but somehow clothed with an incredible dignity and pride that spoke of inner strength. "You dare to presume to lecture me on social justice?" she said, quietly, but with great intensity. "You dabble in geopolitical things like a baby with fingerpaints. Your opinions of the outside world are formed by carefully designed news reports - reports that are largely dictated by members of the team. How much do you really know, Michael? I mean, really?"
There was nothing he could say. Janice saw the words she'd spoken land like a fist into his face, crushing his spirit and will to resist. She hated herself then, hated what she'd had to do. But he had to understand.
She reached out to stroke his face, but he pulled away. She angrily turned from him then, stalking off into the closet to get dressed. Once she was dressed she walked past Michel, still standing as if rooted to the floor of the bathroom. She felt a pang of sorrow for him then, but that was quickly disregarded. She gathered her wits about her for the days events. Today was going to be a big one.
Well, that wasn't a problem for her now.
She smiled to herself at how her life had changed over the past several days. It was truly amazing how quickly and drastically things could change. From southeast Texas swamp land to very dry desert, from living a life as a professional nurse to now being revered as a queen... It is true - life did move fast. She was grateful, too, for the things that had stayed the same, particularly that her daughter and her son were with her.
Then there was Michael. She loved him more than ever, but he was becoming moody and distant. That was understandable, she thought, based on the sudden nature of what had happened and how quickly he'd had to be brought up to speed. But the sullenness was difficult to handle, particularly from someone from whom she'd always derived so much strength. He'd retreated into a kind of shell and it was difficult to know how to handle that.
When they'd first met, she knew that he'd suffered a great loss in his first wife. He'd truly loved her and was not looking for a replacement. There was no denying the connection they'd felt, however, and soon the bond between them was strong and real. She was never jealous of the time he'd spent with his first wife, never worried that he loved her less. In fact, she was grateful for the things that she'd taught Michael about how to treat a woman. His first wife had been a strong, intelligent, and patient woman. Janice wished she could have met her.
Gently swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, her bare feet resting lightly on the floor, she ran her fingers through her deep auburn hair. Her blue eyes sparkled in the dim light coming from the bathroom. Michael had insisted that they leave one light on. Deep inside this man-made mountain cave the darkness could be complete and suffocating. She knew also that it was a psychological link for him, a link to the outside world that he'd perhaps never see again.
She stood and walked to the bathroom, pulling her nightgown up over her head. She wanted a shower. A glance at the clock showed that it was 5:37 AM. Her unfailing internal alarm clock had waked her at around this time for as long as she could remember, except on the few rare days she indulged in sleeping in - until around 7 AM, usually. She ran the shower to warm up the tiles and air and then stepped into the hot stream of water. The morning was the best time to shower, she reflected, lathering up. It awakens one's body and relaxes muscles ahead of the day. Her eyes closed as she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, feeling the warm water course over her face. There really wasn't much better than a shower...
When she opened her eyes she gave a little start. Michael had quietly come into the bathroom and was watching her shower. He often did that, appreciating her body with an almost awestruck and worshipful gaze. She smiled coyly and splashed some water towards him. His smile was warm and his eyes spoke of the passion he felt for her.Under normal circumstances, he might have joined her in the shower. Lately he'd felt a little distant, though. Perhaps it was the place - something about it made him feel like he was being watched all the time, and that was not conducive to romantic liaisons... She'd assured him that wasn't the case, but the distance remained all the same.
"Good morning, sweetheart," she said. "Will you please hand me my towel?"
Michael reached for the towel, not having to stand to pull it from the towel rack above his head, and held it between his outstretched arms. This was another thing she loved, feeling him dry her body gently, slowly, appreciating her curves and skin. It was a mundane act when done by one's self, but when performed by one's lover it became a very intimate act of service and devotion. He leaned over to kiss her shoulders after he rubbed them dry with the towel.
She turned to face him, wrapping the towel around her body - more for warmth than for modesty. She looked up into his clear eyes and could feel her heart melt right down into her toes. She truly, deeply loved her man.
"Janice," he began, somewhat tremulously. "We need to get out of here. I don't like this place. I don't like what these people are doing. And I don't like what it's doing to you."
The mood had vanished almost as quickly as the steam rising from her still-damp body. "What do you mean? What is it doing to me? I'm just the same person I always was - you just now know more about me."
"That's true - I do know more about you. But it's also true that these people are changing you. Look around, Janice. These people are almost all crazy. The ones that aren't are automatons, obeying orders without any thought to the repercussions. Please, Janice - let's just get out of here."
"You know who these people are. You know who I am. Where could we go that we would ever be free from them - from the obligation that I bear? We could run, but we'd never be able to hide..."
"Janice. What you say makes sense, but my heart tells me otherwise. I see the way you act around these men, see the way the power is affecting you. It scares me to death. Please, please Janice. Let's get out of here!"
The pleading, almost begging tone in his voice shocked Janice. For a moment her resolve wavered: she did want to get out of there. But then she reflected on how pitiful he sounded. "A weapon formed but unused is a useless thing," she said. "A person trained to lead who does not is just as useless. This is what I was raised to do, who I was born to be. I will meet my destiny, Michael. I want you by my side. Please try to see what good these actions may have on the world. Look at our intentions. Could there be anything more noble than looking for ways to rectify the gross injustices in the world? To promote civil dialog and increase democratic discourse? Those have always been the highest goals of the team. They are what drives us now."
Michael looked as though he'd been slapped. "Violence is never a good solution to any problem. Giving terrible weapons into the hands of those who lack oversight and moral discretion is a recipe for disaster. People who talk over the barrels of loaded weapons do so with strident and caustic voices, with malice in their hearts. This kind of brinkmanship will unravel the very fabric of society. You must see that! You must see the madness you're unleashing on the world! The world doesn't need equalizing weapons to rectify inequities, the world needs education, compassion, and brotherly love!"
He trailed off, realizing he was standing, shaking. The last few sentences had been shouted at the woman he loved. She'd let the towel drop to the floor, naked, but somehow clothed with an incredible dignity and pride that spoke of inner strength. "You dare to presume to lecture me on social justice?" she said, quietly, but with great intensity. "You dabble in geopolitical things like a baby with fingerpaints. Your opinions of the outside world are formed by carefully designed news reports - reports that are largely dictated by members of the team. How much do you really know, Michael? I mean, really?"
There was nothing he could say. Janice saw the words she'd spoken land like a fist into his face, crushing his spirit and will to resist. She hated herself then, hated what she'd had to do. But he had to understand.
She reached out to stroke his face, but he pulled away. She angrily turned from him then, stalking off into the closet to get dressed. Once she was dressed she walked past Michel, still standing as if rooted to the floor of the bathroom. She felt a pang of sorrow for him then, but that was quickly disregarded. She gathered her wits about her for the days events. Today was going to be a big one.
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