"…and that's all I remember," Wendee said, noticing but not caring that the man seated across from her couldn't take his eyes off her breasts.
"I think you've answered all my questions, Ms Williams," Sark said, thick tongue wetting thin lips.
Dee looked down at her chest. It was the sheer white cotton shirt the medic had put on her. That was the problem. Still, it was Sark's problem, not hers.
She looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow.
He cleared his throat, still staring unrepentantly at her breasts.
"What about the boy?" she asked.
That brought his eyes up. "The hacker will go to trial. He was an accomplice."
"I see." Dee pushed down a pang of regret. If Christophe hadn't tried to help her he might have escaped, as the others obviously had.
All she could hope was that Long Shadow would remember Christophe's part in his escape and return the favour. "But I'm free to go?" she asked, her thoughts returning to her own situation.
"Do you have somewhere to go?"
She hadn't thought of that. Hadn't realised it mattered. "I know someone in Cairns."
He looked down at his notes. "You have a husband in Brisbane — "
"The Gold Coast," she corrected. "And he's my ex-husband."
"Ex or not, the Cairns police notified him when you went missing from your hotel." Sark was making a valiant effort to keep his attention on her eyes. "He moved up to Cairns looking for you. Wants you back apparently." His gaze drifted and Dee felt a stirring in her abdomen — wondered what it would be like to have sex with someone she found unattractive.
"…seems a decent sort," Sark was saying, "and who knows, you might get back into teaching — "
"I'm not interested in teaching young men Astronomy, Mr Sark," she said.
There was silence for a moment, then he cleared his throat. "I still think you should consider — "
But Dee saw a furtiveness in his eyes. "You've already told him I'm here, haven't you?" she said.
Sark sighed, nodded. "He's on his way."
Dee closed her eyes. Then she stood and walked over to the casement window, looking out but not seeing. "Why did you do it?" she asked.
"I want to keep my agent," he said. "But to do that, I have to get rid of you. Safely."
Dee stared out the window. Banana trees blocked her view of the house next door but she could see one of its residents, a young man, a native New Guinean with a machete in his hand climbing one of the trees.
Something about the fronds swaying made her think of home, of the banana palms next to her pool. The ones James had hated and she'd loved. She sensed she should feel something, an emotion linked to the memory. But there was nothing. It was just a memory.
She turned back to Sark. "You think if I go back to my husband, your agent won't come after me."
"I believe so," he said. "The kid's young, and — excuse me, Ms Williams — in this business we call it cunt-struck."
She nodded, uncaring of the crudity.
"But he's a good kid. He'll do the honourable thing."
"Where you won't," she commented.
Sark practically leered, his gaze deliberately falling to the darkness between her thighs. "I only need you to go home with your husband," he said, "What you do after that is none of my concern."
"Why should I do this for you?" she demanded, not having an argument against the idea, simply wanting to wipe the smirk off Sark's face.
"Not for me. For the kid," Sark said.
"You know what's best for him?" She raised a haughty eyebrow, liking the way the sound of her voice seemed to intimidate Sark. "I think you're being a little high-handed."
"What's the alternative?"
Dee gave up her power trip for the moment to consider that. She'd heard the fanaticism of Long Shadow's love, had seen it in his eyes, didn't want to be imprisoned by it.
She shrugged. "All right." Why not? One choice was as good as another at this point. They all led towards death in the end.
She'd felt that death briefly and was in no hurry to find it again. But it was there. Her mortality had crept up and embraced her. One day, she knew, she would experience the orgasm of Death. It would be the ultimate physical act. But until then she had to do something to pass the time.
"Shall I let him in now?" Sark asked.
"Who?" She was momentarily confused. Was James here already?
"Agent… Long Shadow," Sark said, his hand on the door knob.
Dee frowned. She felt sleepy. Comfortably numb. She didn't want to deal with Long Shadow's passion just now.
"Maybe later," she said. "I'm tired now."
Sark nodded. Gestured at the narrow bed in the corner. "Have a sleep. I'll send him off to get cleaned up and eat something. The poor kid hasn't moved from the door since we brought you here."
"Ever the Champion," Dee said, sauntering to the bed Sark had indicated. She stretched out on the hard mattress and closed her eyes. The door shut softly behind Sark and she heard murmuring voices receding down the hallway.
Sleep, she thought, but it was hot, uncomfortable. Late afternoon sun slanted across her lower body and the cicada chorus outside was oppressive.
Dee was too sluggish to pull her shirt off so she fumbled with the buttons to open it, letting the faint breeze from the window slide over her skin. Instinctively, her hands slid with the breeze, touching her breasts, her stomach, the tops of her legs and her inner thighs. Then when she had awoken the flesh between her thighs, she touched herself there, finding it moist and receptive.
So sleepy, she thought as her fingers idly stroked her sex. The sensations that drew her towards climax warred with a lethargy that was closing in fast. She fought to stay awake, but her hand was slowing, her eyelids drooping. It was too much effort.
Somewhere between oblivion and ecstasy, she drifted off.