Marcy wrinkled her nose in distaste, and turned to stare out the window at the passing countryside. She needed to cairn her inner turmoil and get her thoughts in order. How odd it was that she should be sitting here in this car with a perfect stranger, letting him take her God only knew where. He said he had a laboratory at Tiburon, and she'd have to believe that since they were headed in that direction, but she had serious doubts as to the legitimacy of the research project he claimed to be conducting. However, she thought, if he were engaged in anything illegal, would the newspaper have published his ad? Probably. They were interested primarily in the fee, and not in what happened to anyone foolish enough to answer the ad. No, she couldn't blame the newspaper. She was the one who had answered the ad, drawn by its very bizarreness, and thinking it an answer to her prayer, a way out of her dilemma. Tucked away in the Personal columns, it had sounded like a joke, or a put-on.
WANTED: Virgin, 20-25, to, assist in sex research program. Will pay $20,000 for loss of certain intangibles and services rendered. Call Dr. Villiers at Embassy Hotel day or night.
Marcy sighed deeply. Yes, it had been her own doing. She had made the phone call. She had signed the papers agreeing to take part in the experiments and releasing Dr. Villiers from any responsibility for any damage she suffered, physically or psychically, as a result. But she had done it not for kicks or through a sense of adventure, but simply because she had been forced into it by circumstances beyond her control. If only she and Jimmy had never left the small Middle Western town they'd been born and raised in! If only they hadn't come to San Francisco! If only she hadn't gotten a job as a stenographer with the bond company of Price-Meehan, and then asked Personnel if they could use a seventeen-year-old boy as a messenger. If only – no, there was nothing to be gained in going over all that again. She'd been over it a hundred times already. The past was past, and she had to go on from here.
There was no way she could go back and change the fact that their mother and father had been killed in an automobile accident. Neither could she change the fact that she and her brother had used the insurance money that was left after the double funeral to escape from their grief and loneliness, and incidentally, the boredom of small-town life, by heading west to the glamour and excitement of California. No, she couldn't change that any more than she could change the fact that Jimmy had taken up with a young gang of thieves who had used him to gain access to one hundred thousand dollars worth of securities.
It was for Jimmy she was doing this. The company that had been robbed had generously offered to keep the boy out of the case if he would return the fifteen thousand which had been his share of the loot. Only Jimmy hadn't had the fifteen thousand to return. He'd lost it in a crooked dice game with his confederates.
Terrified of going to jail, Jimmy had begged Marcy to help him, and as she had all his life, his big sister had promised. She couldn't bear to see Jimmy suffer. She had been six when Jimmy was born, and had adored him from the moment Mother brought him home from the hospital. Entrusted with a great deal of responsibility for his care, she had petted and pampered and spoiled him. She had built her whole life around him, in spite of the protests and warnings from their parents and others. Well, it looked now as though they had been right and she'd been wrong.
At twenty-two she was still a virgin, and when she had come across that peculiar ad in the morning paper, it had seemed like a miracle. Her beloved brother was in danger, and if her virginity was a negotiable asset, she would use it to help him. Of course, she had never thought of it as negotiable until the very second her eye fell on that ad. She blushed even now to think she was actually selling herself, putting a price on her body. But how else could she raise twenty thousand dollars? She had paced the floor for hours trying to think of something, but had finally faced up to the bitter truth – there was no other way. She couldn't ask her fiance, Fred Ward. He was only a clerk in an office, with no more access to large sums of money than she had. Besides, if he knew it was for Jimmy, he'd refuse point blank. He was jealous of their closeness and rapport. He wanted her all to himself, and didn't want to share her with anyone, least of all Jimmy. He had even implied on occasion that there was something abnormal in their relationship, that maybe Marcy's refusal to allow him certain intimacies was caused by her fixation on her brother. No, Fred would be of no help, and there just wasn't anyone else she could call on. She either had to call the number given in the ad or tell Jimmy she had failed when he needed her most. Then he would have to face the consequences of his own act, and take whatever punishment was meted out. No, no, she couldn't do that. It was unthinkable! The thought of Jimmy in jail caused her such anguish that anything else was preferable.
And so the choice had been made. Marcy had made the phone call and set up the appointment with Dr. Dirk Villiers.
"We have arrived, my dear." Dr. Villiers' voice broke into her unhappy thoughts, and Marcy blinked and looked around.
They had stopped before a large, rambling house set well back from the street on extensive, beautifully landscaped grounds. It looked more like a luxurious mansion than a research laboratory. Marcy was more confused than ever. She had expected a building made of concrete and steel, an efficient, medical kind of place.
As though reading her mind, Dr. Villiers said, "Don't let the exterior mislead you, Marcy – or the interior either, for that matter. I have found that, unlike other experimental animals, human beings function best for my purpose in luxurious surroundings. And so, in the interest of science, I provide them. But please keep in mind that you are, first and last, a research tool and nothing more." He took a small notebook from his pocket and consulted it. "You are Laboratory Animal Number X-999, to be specific. Do you understand?"
Marcy lowered her eyes and nodded silently.
"Very good, my dear. Now let's go inside."
He helped her from the car, and Marcy followed him up to the house on legs that felt like rubber. Her heart was thudding with fear and something else something she couldn't quite identify, or didn't dare to.
As they stepped through the door into a luxuriously furnished entrance hall, a young couple came running eagerly to greet them. The young man was tall, slender, and handsome. His light auburn hair gleamed in the subdued light, and his bare chest above his tight white pants was tanned to a golden hue. The girl with him had a pretty, doll-like face, hair a little darker red than his, and skin like golden cream. She wore white velvet hot pants and a bolero to match, and her bare breasts bounced into view as she ran.
"Dr. Dirk, you have returned!" the young man said. "You have come back to direct our symphony of eroticism!"
"I am not conducting a symphony, Kyle," Dr. Villiers said. "You are taking part in a carefully coordinated, multi-faceted scientific investigation."
"I don't care what you call it," the young man said. "Karla and I have missed you. Deprived of your inspiration, our human potential has stagnated."
"Yes, Dirk, we really did miss you," Karla said, bending her head to kiss Villiers' hand. "This place has been very dull without you."
"A drag, a positive drag," Kyle agreed, putting his arms around the other man and trying to kiss him.
"Enough!" Dr. Villiers said, shaking them both off. "I have brought a new experimental subject. This is Marcy McCall, Number X-999. Is there a laboratory prepared where I can conduct my initial experiments with her?"
The pair looked hurt and disappointed, but managed to keep smiling. "Yes, Doctor Dirk," Kyle said. "Laboratory Number One is fully prepared."
"Fine," Dr. Villiers said. "Number X-999 and I shall go there at once."