For the next twenty minutes, they inched forward along the pathway, one person at a time, until finally, each came to a doorway. Forced to enter separately, each woman found herself in a much smaller closet-like room.
The chamber contained but one piece of furniture. Standing next to the opposite wall was a mirror-like, lighted, archway, glowing brightly. You could not see through to the back of it.
One man stood next to this. In his hand he held a device similar to a card reader. Stepping forward, he ran it over Gemma's body, then ordered her to pass through the portal.
She was immediately hesitant.
Gemma was in no way unfamiliar with the imaginary teleportation devices from the science fiction movies. She had watched many an episode on the space channel.
Surely, he doesn't expect me to believe this is real? Maybe, this is all a nightmare? Or I'm hallucinating.
"Step through!" gruffly ordered the impatient attendant, and then...he pushed her into the light.
****
It seemed to be only seconds, and she was on the other side; the place, a carbon copy of the first.
But that brief glimpse was all that she saw. Her heart began to do funny dances; her vision fogged, then faded, yet still, as if from a distance, Gemma was aware of men's voices.
"Bah!" exclaimed a startled voice. "Catch her!"
Hands grabbed at her, roughly carrying her.
"This one didn't take to the transfer well..."
"Sit her against the wall, out of the way for now, until she comes out of it."
Gemma did her best to take deep breaths. The effort slowed her heart rate, and the confusion cleared from her mind; her vision started to return.
After a few minutes, she became aware of a shadow standing over her. Once again, she heard the beeping of a hand held device.
What is this? Do I have an identity chip on my body, that tells them I belong here, or what?
"Get up, now!" ordered the man.
Gemma was led away to join the others in a huge holding room.
In the milling crowd of women, Gemma searched unsuccessfully for Lydia. The woman seemed to have vanished.
There were many women here, a lot more than had been on the plane that had descended into the sea. Who knew from where they had all been gathered? They sought answers from each other, and from the silent male guards, but no one knew anything, and their overseers gave no clue.
It was obvious, these men were not their rescuers.
What do you want with us? Why are you doing this?
Chapter 12
When they were at last spoken to, one stepped forth as leader, and addressed them. It was explained, they must strip of all garments, jewelry, anything that would identify them. These would be jettisoned out on the surface of the water, along with pieces of an old, damaged cargo plane, to sidetrack authorities, as they looked for the missing passengers.
For bodies, they had pieces: limbs, hair particles...old dead useless females, and aborted infants.
Gemma shuddered at the cold way the man expressed this last, and visions of their future ran rampant in her mind.
What kind of heartless society have we fallen into? Are these men, human? How can they have existed under our seas, and the governments not known of them?
With the other women, Gemma now stood buff naked, her arms hugging her chest in embarrassment of her small inadequate bosom. There was no use trying to hide anything else. A person only had two hands. She waited in one of four lines; obviously...to be examined.
Leering guards stood on either side of each escape exit, to prevent any female from fleeing.
At the head of each row, was an examining stool; beside each stood consoles, supporting what appeared to be computer monitors. Two men worked each examining station; the attending assistants held handhelds similar to those used back in entry; Gemma couldn't yet see what the Physician's were doing.
Gemma was not merely cold, but trembling from lack of nourishment. She had forgone her meals all the day before, in the airport terminal, and on the plane, water and food had been the last thing on anyone's mind. Nowhere in this huge building, had she seen anything resembling sustenance, and in all the time they had been here, none had been offered. Obviously, these men had no thought to supplying any needs but their own.
As Gemma finally came up to the front, she was considerably relieved and grateful to climb up on the stool to be assessed. Her limbs felt unsteady; her breathing was shallow, and she was near fainting, yet still, she attempted to cover herself, as best she could.
"Drop your arms," growled the attendant.
Gemma obeyed, and he outright laughed.
"Hey," he yelled to his counterpart in the aisle behind them. "I thought we were bringing in cows, not sows?"
The attendant from the next line glanced over, grinned, and shrugged.
"She only has two," he pointed out.
"She'll be useless at feeding," commented Gemma's attendant in disgust. "Too small."
From the stool in the next line, the woman sitting there, started to laugh as she caught on to what the men were talking about.
"Runny eggs," she agreed. "Like having nothing."
Both the attendants began laughing uproariously. Gemma felt her face heat. Surely, she must have gone as red as a beet.
Gemma looked over to the next row, at the obnoxious woman seated on the stool. Naked, the woman sat proud as a peacock, her chest out, the fullness of her girls, riding on her fat knees.
Thanks so much for coming to my defense! At least, I will never be just a sex object, as you are.
Humiliated, Gemma squeezed shut her eyes to prevent the flow of tears that threatened.
