Prisoner of Dreams

Chapter Thirty-Two

Corey gave Henley her deserved time to cry, while he listened closely for sounds of departure preparations above and below to continue. After a good half hour of such activity, it was obvious things were soon in a state of greater flux on the vessel. The doors of the cabins outside were opening and closing. Footsteps were heard on the stairs back up to the top deck. The sound of the Zodiac transfer boat was again clearly distinct as Corey surmised it was time for the crew to ferry the young women back to shore. The party onboard yacht had definitely wound down and a serious sobriety was now in the air.

Henley's eyes grew wide as they both felt the yacht shudder, signaling the anchors were being brought up.

"Do you think we're . . ."

"Yeah, it sounds like their making ready to leave the harbor now."

Corey looked at his watch. It was nearly three-thirty AM. He could see from Henley's reaction to the sounds and movements of the ship that she had not experienced those sensations in the two and a half weeks she had been captive.

"With a bit of luck and God willing, " he whispered to her, "we should be intercepted just as we get underway."

The captain's menacing comments about the dark ocean ahead were fresh in Corey's mind as he tried to put on a positive expression for the young woman still lying imprisoned next to him. Hearing the Zodiac finally return to the yacht, Corey was certain it was now just the crew of twelve, the captain and Science Advisor who would remain onboard for the impending journey.

Soon the luxurious craft revved its massive engines and began to motor out to sea. As the deep vibration from propellers began in earnest and a sensation that the boat was accelerating forward, Henley grabbed Corey's arm for support.

"I'm so afraid!" she said. "What's going to happen to us?

"Trust me. Help is on the way, Henley. My partner in investigations has never let me down. He's got the plan and it will be carried out. You'll be rescued . . . be sure of that."

"I'm still afraid . . . and worried for what will happen to you."

He did not know what to say. What could he say that would not expose his own fears and growing insecurity about the moments or hours ahead?

"So look," he finally added, wanting to divert their extreme anxiety. "Tell be something. Purely scientific. This research you were doing with Dimaras . . . Can you say with certainty that our dreams can be invaded? By an outside source, as he explained to me? . . . That we can be messaged or programmed? What they've tried to do to you here?"

Unfortunately . . . yes. It can be effective. This was proven in the past. Through the work I was involved in. I witnessed the fundamentals of it through dreams. In several studies at Hopkins in the lab last summer. But those were benign circumstances. Just to see if dreams could be received. Not to change anyone. Not used as they're trying to do to me."

Corey could see the anger erupt in her expression.

"it's a terrible extreme! Unethical and immoral! And for some . . . perverted agenda!"

"What agenda do you think that is, Henley?"

"If you can change something in people so strong as their sexuality . . . get them to abandon those feelings for another . . . in my case being a lesbian. You can control a whole population. Their religious beliefs. Their politics. Their morality and social behaviors. But I'm certain there was more to their deranged motive."

"More?"

"There has to be something more vicious and cruel with what was being done here. It simply involves those who do not approve of gay or bisexual behavior. Those in positions of power who wish it to be extinguished . . .forever."

"Yes, I can see that."

"I sensed this in the minds of the men who abducted me. And those here who were behind the efforts to carry out this . . . experiment. They've used the science I'm familiar with to try and deprogram my desires for people of my sex. Substitute their own sexual feelings and behaviors for my own. Try to break me down and erase my desire for females . . . and one in particular! That strong passion of mine which I developed since my adolescence.""

Henley folded her arms over her breasts in a defensive and dejected way. Corey could see the fear in her eyes about what was yet to occur.

The yacht suddenly began to pick up speed.

"This whole thing is criminal," Henley finally told him. "They were regularly drugging me. Putting me into an extended alpha state. Subjecting me to pornographic videos. Sending me extrasensory messaging through dream imaging. And all with such cruelty!"

"Jesus, Henley . . . anyone can see that. You'll have your time to confront those who did this to you. I'm sure of that. Expose them for prosecution at the highest level."

Suddenly there was the sound of the cabin door being unlocked. Corey stood quickly and stepped away from Henley's bed. At first entered the same two crew members as before, both with automatic rifles and again positioned threateningly at Corey's body. In a panic, Henley let out a cry and coward back against her pillow. Directly behind the crewmen entered the captain, himself wielding a polished gray handgun as he approached Corey.

"Well, I want to thank you, Mr. Investigator from Las Vegas . . . for your patience while our party was allowed to terminate. I'm sure in this interim you . . . and our special guest here . . . have had an interesting chat."

He smiled down at the evasive girl.

"As you can probably feel, we're making progress leaving the Baltimore harbor complex. For deeper, darker waters."

Corey just stared back at him, angrily but helpless.

"I think you've probably gained all the information you came to seek from our lovely subject. And now we must move you out onto the upper deck . . . to discuss your future."

The captain waved his pistol in the air, signaling Corey to follow the men out of the cabin while he trailed close behind. As he held his hands up, and began to leave the small room, Corey looked back at Henley who lifted her head, sadly acknowledging his uncertain departure.

Arriving at the top of the stairs, his hands were painfully fastened behind him with zip-ties. Brought onto the observation deck where he had worked that night, Corey could feel the cool air of the early morning hour engulf him. All around the yacht now was an inky ocean and similar dark sky, save for the brilliant lights of Baltimore, receding behind them in the distance.

While being held by the crew members awaiting further orders, Corey strained his eyes to look back at what remained of civilization. He was hoping to see any sign of an approaching light on the sea or in the sky. But to his dismay there was neither.

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