You can all thank Brandon for getting this chapter posted a day earlier than it would have been. Thank you Brandon!
"You still want to run away?" Becker asked, disdain dripping from every syllable. How could this freak even know I would be here, after everything that he had done? But Dad didn't slow down, and his grip on my arm was tight enough that I couldn't just stop walking. What was going on here? I didn't know, but I also didn't have the choice.
"It's not an option," Dad growled in my ear. "I can't transfer you to a different pharmacist when you're still under treatment. I knew you wouldn't like it, but this is the only way. Just deal with it, and maybe you won't be so hasty to raise your hand to me next time."
"That's not fair!" I answered. "You shouldn't be able to–" and then my words died away as Becker grabbed my other wrist.
"Life isn't fair," Becker answered me. "But the law sets down rules. And you can be sure you're going to obey them, whether you want to or not. There's not an option for a little rebel who doesn't want to play along. So come with me, and let's see what you've earned by continuing with your bad behaviour."
I looked up and saw Dad's face, and I knew he didn't want this. He might be angry because I'd slapped him, and because Elspeth hadn't made any effort to hide her disapproval when they spoke. But he knew that this was a consequence of his actions, and I knew that in that moment, if he could have easily freed me from the pharmacist's grasp he would have done it. My dad didn't hate me; he just didn't know how to cope with not being the one in control, after his whole life had led him to that point.
The elevator ride was fast, at least, and came out just two minutes walk from Becker's shop. And then, to my surprise, there were other customers waiting inside when we arrived.
"Oh, hi," Serena said with a wicked grin. I couldn't even guess what she was thinking. "I've not got an appointment today. But I thought it was best to come in anyhow. My lawyer tells me that if I have a legal right to the HumiliX Generalised Antidote Treatment, I can come in any day I want and demand immediate priority."
The junior pharmacist behind the counter stammered and looked back and forth between them with terror in her eyes. She knew that Becker could fire her if she said anything he didn't like, but also that Serena had come in talking about her rights with the confidence of someone who had already spoken to an actual lawyer. The poor pharmacist only knew that anything she said now was bound to upset at least one of them.
"I'm sorry, that isn't important right now," Becker sneered. "If you think you've served your punishment, you might need to think a little deeper about what happened to make you deserve this. And you'll need parental approval, of course. Do your parents think it would be fair to let you escape a legal punishment? Come back to see me when you're serious. I've got more important things to deal with today. Like Miss Peen's further loss of privileges."
I wanted to yell back at that, and to lash out. But a part of me knew that my best option was to keep silent. I had no doubt that Serena was recording everything she heard, even if I couldn't reach my phone right now. And there was a good chance she would be able to prosecute him just on the basis of what she heard today. I just had to be meek and submissive, not argue, and give Becker enough rope to hang himself.
"Can we get this over with?" Dad barked, and then he and Becker were marching me into the back room. There was nothing I could do about it; I'd totally underestimated how much simple handcuffs could restrict my movement. Serena gave me a quick message, a burst of sign language that I completely failed to read the meaning of. What was she saying to me?
"I'm sorry about this," Dad whispered. "But another pharmacist can't take you unless Mr Becker releases your file to them." I nodded, and sighed. I'd spoken to Alyn, Serena's lawyer, enough to know that Becker couldn't legally refuse to hand over my file. But taking him to court over that would have taken days; weeks even. Even with Serena's political clout behind us, there was no way it could have been finished in time for me to actually get a dose elsewhere on the right day. I hated it, but in the circumstances I thought that there was nothing Dad could have done differently. I was shaking now, but I just had to look forward to the debating club; to being able to control myself well enough to actually go to university.
Every instinct wanted to jump up and strike Becker, so I was kind of glad I couldn't. I needed to behave for now, and the desire to hurt somebody or break something wasn't helping with that. I fought back against emotions that I was sure weren't my own, while two men held onto my arms. Before long I was bent over the table again, just like the first time. I wanted to yell that this wasn't appropriate; that he could just as easily have stuck a needle in my arm while I was sitting down. But I didn't trust myself to say anything without cursing, so I forced myself to stay quiet.
He stabbed me in the butt this time, just below the edge of my diaper. I guess that was better than exposing my regular underwear. He took the blood samples, and then I was allowed to sit down.
Becker sat down at his desk and filled in the forms for my treatment. I knew all this stuff could be done on computer now, so he could have just printed off everything he needed; but instead he made me sit through a minute of watching as he filled forms in by hand. I couldn't take my eyes off the pen as he chewed on the barrel between each line he wrote. I was a little more familiar with the procedure than I had been last time, so I knew that he was filling out a declaration for Dad to sign, as well as two sticky labels that he would stick on the sample vials. And I wondered if making me watch this was a part of my punishment; Becker was drawing it out just to make sure I was aware of what was coming. It felt like he had no objective beyond hurting me, and that only intensified my desire to break something. Preferably him.
He lifted down a tray of the special sample vials with the HumiliX logo on them. There were five left, and he picked up the front one. A couple of tubes to decant my blood samples into from his syringe, and then looked back to the four vials left on the tray.
"I shall have to order more of these before I run out. I think quite a few of your friends will be sharing in your punishment soon. I hope you don't mind while I fill out the order." And just like that, he turned away from us to order a dozen more sample vials on his computer. I felt that pretty much confirmed my earlier suspicion: he was drawing this meeting out as long as possible, because he wanted to see me squirm.
"There we go," he said. "Now, open your mouth dear." He pulled a swab out of the final section of the vial; he was just going to rub it around the inside of my mouth to collect saliva or something. At least that wouldn't be painful, but when the thought crossed my mind I couldn't resist the urge to mess with him just a little more. I could have just opened my mouth, but instead it seemed like such a clever idea to spit at the guy. It was about the only way I could fight him now, and he looked so comical with a thick glob of saliva running down his shirt and tie. Sadly I didn't have the strength to hit his face; gravity was much stronger than I had anticipated. And I immediately regretted that impulse when I felt Dad's hands gripping tighter around my wrist.
Becker put on a good show of not caring, but I could tell how much he hated it. He lifted up his little swab and dabbed at the mess on his tie, before putting it back into the vial.
"Well," he said. "I guess the babies have to show just how desperate for attention they are. Now, how about we–"
His words were interrupted by a shout that I couldn't quite make out, and I realised that I'd heard a commotion from the outer office. It seemed that Becker had heard, and his confusion reassured me just a little. Anything that bothered him could make me feel better in this situation. A second or two passed, and then he seemed to dismiss the noise outside as nothing important. "I'm sure Cindy can –"
This time, the interruption was because the door had flown open, and Becker tried to take a step back before realising that he was now backed up against his desk. Elspeth was screaming something incomprehensible about abuse of power, and behind her I could see Marcie and Serena trying to persuade her to trust in the legal system, while the receptionist and two mall security guys were trying to get closer in the cramped space behind them.
"You realise this is highly illegal?" Becker asked, drawing himself up to his fell height. He didn't even try to hide behind something, or to cover himself. I guessed that he was used to people taking notice of what he said, just like Dad. But he quickly found out that the respect of the community and being moderately wealthy don't provide much defence against a punch in the face, and when I saw a broken tooth skitter to a halt on the desk in front of me, the only thought in my mind was whether even Serena had good enough lawyers to let hher get away with this.