Primary Valor by Jack Mars (booksvooks TXT) 📗

the bar right after lunch, really any day, but especially whenugliness was bound to arise. A certain person had indicated a desire to speakwith him today. Darwin did not like dealing with this person, but he also didn’tsee much choice in the matter. A little alcohol would put some pleasantdistance between him and the information the person chose to share.

And in the meantime…

 The girl came in through the widedouble doors from the hallway. Beyond those doors lay the house proper, andeverything that took place outside of his private inner sanctum. Dozens ofrooms, a giant modern kitchen that could run a large and popular restaurant,dining halls small and large—one for the normal pace of activities and one forwhen celebrations and gatherings were held, the inground pool and hot tub, asmall gym, wraparound porches, fruit trees, and staggering views from justabout everywhere.

This house must be a whole newworld for the girl.

Ah, but she was still living downin the Tombs, so she couldn’t enjoy her stay here yet. Well, they would seeabout that.

Two young men entered with her,flanking her. They each carried Uzi submachine guns. They were on loan from theHonduran army, and wore olive green uniforms. Darwin had friends in theHonduran government. Although this island was not part of Honduras, he wastheir guest, and under their protection. Darwin had many friends who protectedhim.

The girl and her escorts movedinto the apartment. She was wearing a full white robe and hood, just as hepreferred them to do when first meeting him. Her eyes were downcast. He wasimmediately struck by her. Her eyes, her face, her hair. Just gorgeous. Hewanted to know everything about her. He wanted to own her completely. And thatwould come in time.

He waved the gunmen back to thedoorway, and then through it. They were a necessary evil, and they made quite afirst impression, but personally, he didn’t like to look at them. Theirpresence ruined the aesthetics of the girl. They were not tall, for one thing. Honduranpeople, God love ’em, were short.

Darwin King was tall. He preferredtall people. These Hondurans were squat, and if he dared say so, they were nothandsome. If he could have his own private army of towering, handsome Germansand Dutchmen, now wouldn’t that be something?

The girl was standing there, inthe middle of the room.

“21?” he said. “21, come here.”

The girl in the robe walkedtimidly toward him. She did not look at him. She did not look side to side. Shedidn’t look anywhere but at her own bare feet.

“Come on,” Darwin said. “Don’t beafraid. It’s me, Darwin. That’s my name. You’re going to come to know me verywell. I’m going to be your friend.”

She stood in front of him. She wasguarded and wary. She would not meet his eyes.

“Did they tell you about me?” hesaid.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Very good. What did they tellyou?”

“They said you own this place.”

Darwin nodded. “Yes. I do. And Iown everything in it. And everyone here works for me. Do you like it here?”

She stared at the stone floor. Tearsbegan to flow. They streamed down her face and dropped onto her robe. It wasvery sad. Darwin frowned.

“No,” she said in a small voice. “Iwant to go home. Can I please go home?”

Darwin shook his head, and now hewas sad, too. “I’m afraid not. You see, this is your home now. Your parentsdidn’t want you anymore, and they gave you to me. Sold you, actually. They gaveme what I consider a good price. A fair price, let’s say.”

The girl looked up and stared athim with round, red eyes. The tears streamed down as if someone had turned afaucet on low.

Darwin nodded. “It happens thisway sometimes. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. It just means that theydidn’t want you, and I did. I knew you, and was watching you the whole time. BecauseI love you.”

She seemed to have gotten stuck onone particular word. They always did.

“Sold me…”

“Yes. It’s true. They sold you andI bought you. I own you now.”

The girl just stared and stared.

“How is your stay so far?” Darwinsaid. He felt that he put just the right note of concern in his voice.

The girl shook her head. She weptsoftly, her body shaking. Such pain! Such sadness! She had no idea what delightit gave him.

“It’s horrible,” she said. Hermouth turned down and trembled, like a clown’s grimace. Her voice washigh-pitched, almost a squeak. “I don’t understand what’s happening here. Noone will call me by my name. My name is Charlotte, but no one calls me that.”

He watched her.

“It’s okay,” he said. He spokesoftly, like a loving father. “Your name isn’t Charlotte.”

“It is! It’s Charlotte.”

He shook his head. “No. I’m sorry.That’s false. They lied to you. That name was never you. It belongs to someonewho died. You have a number, not a name. Your number is 21. I need you tounderstand that. People here want the best for you, and they will never callyou by a name that isn’t yours.”

It was an old CIA mind controltrick. Darwin had learned it from an aging master, a friend, now deceased, whohad been involved in MK-ULTRA back in the Wild West days of the 1950s and1960s. People had names, and over time they associated traits with those names.Life experiences, memories, loved ones, habits, boundaries. Over time, thosetraits became cemented in place. Say the name, and all these associationsarise. People, quite literally, become their names.

I am Charlotte. Charlotte doesthese things, but doesn’t do these other things. Charlotte loves her mom. Charlottehas dreams. Charlotte has preferences. Young Charlotte has beliefs, maybe eventhe beginning of a belief system.

But strip the name away. Once thename is gone, you control what comes next. Replace it with a number. A numberhas no associations. It’s completely neutral. Robots have numbers. Robots dowhat they’re programmed to do. Do this long enough (but not even thatlong), and the original personality begins to fade. After a while, theassociations are gone, and so is the person.

Replace those associations withnew ones, the ones you want the person to have. Number 21 is a slave. Number 21does what master tells her to do.