Dick Longg: Sexual Saviour of the Universe (15 page)

‘Stick with me Benjy and you could go places’. Dick gave Benjamin his wink and gun/fingers greeting as he rose from the table. Returning his tray Dick glanced at Benjamin sitting alone, deep in contemplation, his face contorted in a mixture of anger and confusion, a new rivulet of tea running down his chin.

The next few days passed quickly. Most nights Dick stayed late to study the Project Gladstone file, making copious notes and locking it in his drawer when he left. This project was hot. No, more than hot. Boiling. It was hotter than molten lava on a very hot summer’s day and Dick couldn’t wait to tell
Taylor
about it at their next meeting. During this time the change in Benjamin’s attitude was obvious to see. Gone were any sarcastic or critical comments aimed Dick’s way. Instead he kept a much lower profile and when the two of them did come into contact, Benjamin would ask if he needed any assistance. Lunches were far more pleasurable and if Benjamin was dwelling on the remarks Dick had made recently (which he definitely was), he passed no comment. It was, Dick felt, exactly the sort of behaviour you’d expect from someone scared about Dick and the power and influence, through this mysterious relative, that he might be able to exert.

CHAPTER 12

In no time at all it was Thursday 5
^th
and the long-awaited date with
Alice
. Dick had discovered that the Pelican Café was located halfway between the Ministry and his home and reached it with a quarter of an hour to spare ahead of his rendezvous. Dick sat at a corner table trying to remember what
Alice
looked like. It had been about a month since they last met at the resistance HQ. He shut his eyes to picture her face, the colour of her eyes and her hair, but had difficulty getting past her bosom. He could remember that quite clearly but the other details seemed a bit hazy. Dick was still trying to remember the rest of her when
Alice
’s ample chest arrived, followed micro seconds later by the rest of her perfectly formed body. Dick rose to greet her, wanting to grab her shapely ass with both hands and poke his tongue down her throat but resisted this primal urge and instead shook her soft, shapely hand, the accepted greeting between unmarried men and women in this era. He noticed her perfume again, the same pleasant rose-scent he remembered from when they first met.

‘I’ve missed you’, Dick said, suddenly and awkwardly aware that it sounded a bit too familiar and even a bit too romantic; after all, he’d only met her a couple of times.

‘It’s good to see you again Jeremy’.
Alice
smiled and sat down facing him.

In low tones, Dick told her about his time at work, being guarded about what he said in case any Party spies were nearby, watching or listening. Nothing was said about his meeting with Vera or the special project. Outwardly, this meeting must be seen as just two friends catching up on their news and making small talk. They ordered a light supper and
Alice
told him, in very general terms, about her own week. Dick learned that
Alice
worked in the administration and shipping department of a company that designed and manufactured ladies’ fashion accessories. A very modest and almost anonymous job he thought, but then again, one that was perfect cover for someone senior in the Resistance.

Dick wondered what jobs other members held down. Were they all as low-key as hers so as to avoid undue attention? Or maybe some members had high-profile public positions on the basis that the Party would least suspect them. Had anyone infiltrated the Party like he was attempting to do? Then he remembered someone had; the other person brought forward in time. The other ‘One’ whose identity had been compromised and who had never been seen again. Dick was about to get maudlin again when
Alice
asked him if he wanted a lift home.

Dick accepted the offer of a ride, paid the bill and exited with
Alice
into the cool night air in a slightly confused state. He wondered exactly what the point of this meeting was. He hadn’t passed any important information to
Alice
and she’d obviously been very careful with what she told him in case it compromised her real identity. He didn’t know her real name, which company she worked for or where it was located. In fact the only things he did learn was that
the
colour for parasols this season was lilac, and there was a possible shortage of ivory inlaid handles for umbrellas – neither of which seemed integral to the success of the Resistance unless, of course, she’d been talking in some sort of code that no one had bothered to explain to him.

Alice
’s hovercar was parked a block away and they walked there in silence, passing a policeman who tipped his hat in greeting. To say the hovercar sped off would be a severe overstatement. It rose slowly from the kerb and travelled at a smooth, sedate pace. A few seconds into their journey
Alice
operated a small switch hidden behind the dashboard and let out a sigh.

‘Now we can talk freely’, she said.

‘What do you mean?’, asked Dick.

‘I’ve just turned on the scrambler device’.

‘I don’t know what that is, but it sounds illegal’, Dick added.

‘Definitely’.
Alice
smiled. ‘All members of the Resistance have them fitted in their vehicles. It stops the Party eavesdropping on conversations. If they are listening in, all they hear is the noise of static as if their equipment is malfunctioning or there’s some form of electrical interference’.

‘Do you think hovercars are bugged?’

‘I’m sure some are’, replied
Alice
. ‘Probably at random but we can’t afford to take any chances’.

‘But if you’re under any sort of suspicion couldn’t the Party just tail you?’

‘Tail me?’

‘You know, follow you from a distance’, Dick explained.

‘They could do that, but in addition to the scrambler, I also have this device’.

With that,
Alice
reached into her handbag and showed Dick an ornate hairbrush.

‘Very nice. Is that for making sure your hair looks good just before they stop you? What do you do with the the one phone call you’re allowed when arrested? Ring the salon to get some highlights?’

Dick’s attempts at humour were completely lost on
Alice
.

‘Open the back’, she said.

Dick examined the hairbrush and after a few seconds located a small, almost-hidden clasp. The back clicked open to reveal a small screen and flashing lights.

‘Some sort of tracking device’, Dick guessed, smiling. ‘The Resistance
has
been busy’.

Alice
told Dick that this detected the exact frequency on which the Party’s communications equipment operated and determined the proximity. That way
Alice
knew if the security forces were following her by road or foot. The silence of the device indicated they were safe so
Alice
carried out a planned detour that would take them to the Resistance HQ.

‘In the compartment ahead of you is a blindfold’, she said.

Dick reached inside and put it on without complaint. ‘It’s OK. I know the drill’.

‘What drill?’ It was time for
Alice
to frown.

Dick smiled. ‘It doesn’t matter’, he said, sinking low into his seat and closing his eyes behind the blindfold. ‘Just tell me when we get there’.

About thirty minutes later Dick was aware of the hovercar gradually slowing and then stopping, the doors opening with a hiss.
Alice
helped him out. Wherever he was, it was quiet. There were no audible clues at all to indicate where he might be. Dick realised he had no way of telling whether the HQ was actually located half an hour away from when he first put the blindfold on, or even five minutes away. For all he knew
Alice
could have been driving around and around aimlessly for most of that time to confuse him. As
Taylor
had said, the Resistance couldn’t afford to take any chances.

They entered an elevator, rode a few floors then exited, walked a bit further and entered another elevator.
Alice
had her arm through Dick’s to guide him and he began to feel aroused. He put this state down to a combination of factors. For a start, there was his natural, perpetual horniness. Then there was the gentle movement of the elevator and the effect this was having on his chaffing trousers. Plus of course the fact that he was wearing a blindfold and was helpless at the hands of a busty, attractive woman. If that wasn’t the start of a harmless fantasy then he didn’t know what was.

Then a thought struck him. ‘You know you said the Resistance was careful’, he asked
Alice
. ‘Well how do they know that I don’t have some tracking device on me as well? They could have planted one on me without my knowledge and have been monitoring me even as we’re speaking’.

‘You haven’t’,
Alice
added confidently. I have a device on me that can detect that’.

‘Don’t tell me’, Dick said with more than a hint of sarcasm. ‘It’s hidden in your lipstick’.

‘No’, answered
Alice
. ‘It’s disguised as a broach. My lipstick contains a small homing beacon’. Before Dick could ask any more questions the elevator stopped with a shudder and the doors opened with a dull clang.
Alice
escorted Dick along a corridor. He was aware of turning two corners and then stopping. After a moment Dick heard a buzzer sound and after another moment he heard what he assumed was some sort of intricate locking mechanism. It was.
Alice
gently ushered him through an open doorway and removed his blindfold. Dick immediately rubbed his eyes to adjust to the familiar sight of the Resistance HQ closely followed by the other familiar sight of
Taylor
welcoming
Alice
back with a passionate embrace. So she was
his
girl. Dick was relieved he’d reached the headquarters safely but this positive feeling was tinged with a slight feeling of jealousy. Taylor and Alice separated. The Resistance leader regained his composure and smiled at Dick.

‘Welcome back’, he said, shaking Dick’s hand firmly. Dick looked at
Alice
and then looked back down at
Taylor
’s hand, thinking about
Alice
and where
Taylor
’s hand must have been on numerous occasions. Dick wanted to take this hand and smell it, right here, right now, licking each finger one by one to see if there was any residual taste of Alice on them, but then realised how odd and disturbing this would be. Instead he spluttered something about being glad to be back and just how much he had to tell them about his experiences to date.

Taylor and Dick retired to the lounge area where a small crowd had gathered. Along with the familiar faces of Susan, Grace and Edward there was a rather stupid-looking older man named Humphrey.
Taylor
explained without any sense of irony that he worked in intelligence. It was his role to co-ordinate all the information the Resistance collated and try and make sense of it, in particular anything relating to the rumoured secret weapon which was being developed. Warmed by the fire and by brandy in his belly Dick told the group about everything that had happened to him since he had moved into his apartments and started at the Ministry. He told them about William, Mary, Vera, Benjamin, his other work colleagues and his recent report on prostitution. Humphrey nodded and made copious notes.
Taylor
nodded too, but this was the sort of nod that implied, ‘Yes, yes, I’ve heard all this before. Get on with it and tell me something I don’t know’.