When Betty come into Pal's room, it was a bit of a surprise. Pal hadn't thought about the other girls getting the same ideas she had. But then, Betty had been here longer, of course, and perhaps she was allowed more freedom, like a prison trustee.
Pal welcomed her visitor, then felt rather ill at ease, as if she were a junior whore in some brothel being called on by the hooker with the most seniority.
But after a few initial pleasantries and some cagey hemming and hawing, the two saw that they could trust each others and Pal began pumping Betty, answering Betty's questions in between her own askings and Betty's answers.
"Did they get a new girl, yet?" Betty asked.
"Yes," said Pal. "A little brunette named Cindy. We just put her through the scene you and I shared one time."
"Figures," said Betty. "It's a constant cycle. A cycle of horror."
"What do you mean?" asked Pal. Then she saw the faint red dots scattered over Betty's skin. "What kind of reaction are you having to your tests?"
"Same thing," Betty replied.
"Same as what?"
"Same as every poor girl dragged into this place," said Betty.
"They can't all be the same," Pal protested. "Heidi had those awful sores all over her skin, and you only have those tiny red bumps on you. Now, I have…"
"Little pimply places in your mouth and pussy," Betty interrupted. "And at first they drove you nuts the way they itched?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"Honey, Jonas Stillwell may be varying that formula before each new guinea pig gets dosed, but he can't be varying it much. The only difference in the results is the length of time each phase takes in different girls."
"Do you mean that we all… that Heidi and you and I…?"
"From what I got out of Heidi before she went a little weird in the last stages, the two girls before her went the same route, and her descriptions matched my early stages… and yours."
"Oh, my God! Then we're both as good as dead!"
"Probably, Pal. But who knows! He may goof and eliminate the deadly factor in the stuff. Maybe someone along the line will live through it all and get away to report them to the police."
"Oh, Betty! They must both be mad as can be!"
"Honey, I was sure of that a long time ago. But Jonas seems to have mellowed a little lately. He hasn't beaten me for days. Do you suppose he lost that leather cunt-ripper he uses on us?"
"He's never used that on me," Pal told her. "Just that womb-fucking doggy-pecker. And I can hardly wait until he uses it on me again! Doesn't it drive you wild?"
Betty's puzzlement about that was soon cleared up by Pal, and they compared notes until they both had the entire picture, fuzzy as it might be, about the mellowing of Jonas Stillwell.
"He's bound to get it in you pretty soon, Betty," Pal told her. "And while it's in there, you won't care about anything else – past, present or future."
"Then I hope he screws the crazy thing into me soon and often," Betty replied. "I don't like to think too much about what's ahead of me. These little measle-marks I have are just like Heidi's were when I came here."
"Oh, Betty! I hope we can see each other more before… before…"
"Yeah! Me, too, Pal. But we'll have to be careful. It's hard to get out of the room at the right time to see the others. That damned floor!"
Pal quickly told Betty about the rubber sheet thing, and the safety switch in the frame of the door. Betty was grateful, but angry at herself for not having caught onto the some things.
"I'd better get back before I get caught, Pal," she said.
They kissed like sisters or old friends parting for the summer. At the door, Betty looked back and grinned wryly at Pal.
"I don't have a lot of faith in my luck, honey. But I sure hope you make it. Preach the word, kid! I'm gonna go plan a campaign to get my share of that pointy little womb-raider!"
Then the doorway was empty…