Chapter 11: Tally

- Gabriel

I guided Dr. Abbott and Dr. Fenwick through Echelon's east wing corridor, my hand occasionally touching the small of their backs to direct them around corners. The gesture felt simultaneously natural and deeply wrong. Fifty minutes into this nightmare, and I was already adapting to a world where I "owned" women. I'd found both scientists locked inside their respective offices. The first one, Dr. Abbot, I had managed to convince to open the door by promising that I was there to help. I claimed her on the spot. Then I'd used the first woman to lure the second one from the safety of her office. The entire thing felt like an awful, predatory game. I felt like shit...

Dr. Helena Abbott walked with military precision, her silver-streaked black hair pulled back in a severe bun that emphasized her sharp cheekbones and penetrating gray eyes. At forty-five, she maintained the fit physique of someone who hiked mountains to place atmospheric monitoring equipment. Her tailored charcoal pantsuit only heightened the sense of authority that radiated from her.

Beside her, Dr. Nia Fenwick moved with a quieter energy, her slight frame almost disappearing into her oversized cardigan. At twenty-seven, she was one of our youngest theoretical physicists, brilliant but painfully shy. Her round glasses kept slipping down her nose, and she'd push them up with an ink-stained finger, her mousy brown hair falling in waves around a face that was plain but pleasant, with intelligent eyes that missed nothing.

"Dr. Abbott, Dr. Fenwick," I said, checking my watch, "I need to know if either of you has seen Lenore Renton in the last hour. She's the last person on my half of the list." I had been unable to locate her despite my best efforts. I also tried not to think about Dr. Foster, whose loss still stung. I hoped Edward would catch the asshole that claimed her, but then what would we even do with them?

Dr. Abbott shook her head. "I've been in the atmospheric modeling lab since 8 AM. I didn't emerge until that… message… was broadcast."

"I saw her at breakfast," Dr. Fenwick offered quietly, pushing her glasses up. "She mentioned meeting Elaine for lunch in town. I haven't seen her since."

My stomach tightened. Lunch in town. With Elaine, Wendy and Cedric. The timing aligned too perfectly.

"Did she say where specifically?" I pressed.

"The café on Maple, I think. The French one." Fenwick's brow furrowed. "Is something wrong? I mean, beyond the obvious."

I didn't answer immediately, a horrible possibility taking shape in my mind. What if Wendy had been claimed by someone else? What if her text, "Safe with Cedric, looking for Olivia", had been sent under duress? What if some stranger now controlled my wife, forcing her to lie to keep me from searching for her?

I pulled out my phone and dialed Wendy's number, my heart pounding against my ribs. One ring. Two rings. Three—

"Gabriel?" Wendy's voice came through, clear and familiar.

"Wendy," I breathed, relief washing over me. "Are you really with Cedric? Are you safe? Tell me the truth."

"Yes, I'm with Cedric," she replied, her tone oddly bright. "We're on our way to Echelon. We couldn't find Olivia. Someone claimed her, Gabriel. Some older man with multiple women already."

I closed my eyes, processing this new horror. Poor Olivia. Poor Cedric.

"Let me talk to him," I demanded, needing confirmation.

There was a rustling sound, then Cedric's voice, tight with barely controlled rage. "Gabriel. It's me. We're coming to Echelon now. Someone took my daughter."

The raw pain in his voice was unmistakable. This was Cedric, and he was with Wendy. Whatever else had happened, at least she was with someone who would protect her, on her way to me.

"I'm sorry about Olivia," I said, meaning it. "We'll figure something out. I have a few more things to finish here, but I'll meet you in the atrium when you arrive."

"We'll be there in fifteen," Cedric replied shortly before handing the phone back to Wendy.

"See you soon," Wendy said, that strange brightness still in her voice.

I ended the call, exhaling slowly. They were safe. As safe as anyone could be in this new reality. But something in Wendy's tone bothered me, an unfamiliar cadence I couldn't quite place.

"Is everything alright?" Dr. Abbott asked, her usual stern expression softened slightly with concern.

"My wife is on her way here," I explained, pocketing my phone. "She's with a friend, but his daughter has been claimed."

"I'm sorry," Dr. Fenwick said softly. "This is all so horrible."

I knocked on my own office door, a surreal gesture that perfectly encapsulated the absurdity of this day. Everything familiar had become strange, including the protocol for entering the space I'd occupied for years.

"Who is it?" Alva's voice called from inside, professional even now.

"It's Gabriel," I answered, feeling the weight of the two women behind me, their presence both comforting and condemning.

The door opened immediately, revealing Alva's perfectly composed face, though her eyes lit up at the sight of me in a way I'd never seen before. "Gabriel, we've been waiting for you."

I ushered Dr. Abbott and Dr. Fenwick inside, closing the door behind us. My office, normally a sanctuary of order and rational thought, now felt like a harem. Three women turned to me with expressions ranging from adoration to uncertainty, but all with the same underlying attentiveness, like satellites oriented toward a central planet, tidally locked.

Dr. Mendez stood by my bookshelf, and I nearly did a double-take. The conservative blouse she'd worn earlier was now unbuttoned to reveal a generous amount of cleavage, her posture deliberately accentuating the display. This was the same woman who, less than an hour ago, had backed into a corner begging me not to claim her, tears streaming down her face. Now she watched me with hopeful anticipation, clearly curious about my reaction to her transformation.

My body responded before my mind could intervene. A flash of heat, a quickening pulse; followed immediately by confusion and displeasure. The whiplash of her change disturbed me on a fundamental level.

Imani caught my expression and laughed, a knowing sound that cut through the tension. "I told you he wouldn't like it, Renata," she said, shaking her head. "Gabriel isn't that kind of man."

Dr. Mendez's face fell, her hands quickly moving to button her blouse. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, clearly distressed at having displeased me. "I just thought… I've seen you look at me during presentations sometimes, and I wanted to…" She trailed off, making me even more uncomfortable with the implication that she'd noticed my occasional unprofessional glances.

"That's not… I never meant to…" I stammered, feeling heat rise to my face. Had I really been so transparent? The thought that my colleagues had noticed such moments of weakness made me want to sink through the floor.

"Do you need us to do anything, sir?" Alva asked, mercifully changing the subject. She stood with her notepad ready, as if this were any normal workday where she'd be taking dictation rather than awaiting commands from her "master."

Dr. Abbott stepped forward, her stern demeanor somehow intact despite the claiming. "Should we begin working immediately? I assume there's a specific project you need us for, given the urgency of your… collection." She hesitated on the last word, as if searching for the appropriate term for what I'd done to them.

I ran a hand through my hair, increasingly flustered by the situation. Six pairs of eyes watched me expectantly, waiting for direction, for purpose. The weight of their dependence pressed down on me like a physical ****.

"I need you all to stay here for now," I said finally. "I have to report back to Dr. Quinn in the MRI room. We'll brief everyone on the situation once we've gathered all the necessary personnel."

"Is there anything we can prepare while you're gone?" Dr. Fenwick asked quietly, her shy demeanor now tinged with an eagerness to serve that made me profoundly uncomfortable.

"No," I said more sharply than intended, then softened my tone. "Just… wait here. I'll be back soon."

I backed toward the door, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere of devotion. These brilliant women, reduced to awaiting my commands, one of them even thinking I'd want her to use her body to please me because of a couple glances over the years. The reality of what was happening hit me anew with each passing minute.

I made my way back toward the MRI room, cutting through the atrium with quick, purposeful strides. The vast open space, normally bustling with researchers and visitors, now echoed with an eerie emptiness. No sign of Cedric and Wendy yet. The main entrance doors stood wide open. Edward must have unlocked them at the one-hour mark as promised, allowing people to come and go. Birds chirped outside, a discordant contrast to the surreal scene inside.

The corridors leading to the medical wing were unnervingly quiet as well. Occasionally I'd catch glimpses of movement, researchers huddled in offices, but most people seemed to be hiding or had fled the facility entirely. I couldn't blame them. If I'd had the option to escape this nightmare, I might have taken it too.

As I approached the MRI suite, I spotted Duncan already waiting outside, his lean frame propped against the wall, fingers drumming nervously against his thigh. Edward stood beside him, deep in conversation with another security officer, a woman I recognized from my security briefings but had rarely interacted with directly.

She was tall, easily six feet, with broad shoulders and a solid build that spoke of serious physical training. Despite her imposing stature, her face was striking rather than harsh: clear blue eyes, a strong jaw, and short blonde hair that framed her features well. She wore the standard Echelon security uniform, but it seemed tailored to accommodate her large frame.

I approached cautiously, uncertain of her status in this new world order. Had Edward claimed her? Was she still herself? The question must have shown on my face because she smirked, one eyebrow raising slightly.

"Yes, I've been claimed, Mr. Ritter," she said, her voice surprisingly melodious for someone of her size. "By Edward here. Don't worry, I'm still perfectly capable of doing my job."

Edward shifted uncomfortably. "This is Warda Collins. Best officer on my team. It was the only way, Gabriel. I couldn't risk losing her skills, and she actually agreed beforehand."

So Imani hadn't been an isolated case. There had been other women who'd willingly offered themselves to men they trusted. The realization was both fascinating and horrifying, a further blurring of the lines between consent and control.

Warda nodded, her expression professional despite the absurdity of the situation. "Better the devil you know," she said with a shrug that suggested pragmatism rather than resignation.

Before I could respond, Dr. Bernard Smith rounded the corner, slightly out of breath but moving with determination. His white beard was disheveled, and sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Sorry I'm late," he panted, adjusting his glasses.

I nodded, eager to know many women Duncan and him had managed to claim, but waiting for us all to gather in the MRI room. Ramona was now, in all the ways that mattered, the head of this operation. She deserved to hear the results firsthand.

I turned to the heavy door of the MRI room. "Ramona? Phoebe? It's Gabriel. We're coming in." I knocked firmly, then waited, giving them time to move to the shielded corner where they'd be protected even with the door open.

After a moment, Ramona's voice came through: "We're ready."

I pushed open the door, and we filed in, myself first, followed by Duncan, Edward, Warda, and finally Dr. Smith.

Ramona and Phoebe stood in the far corner of the room, partially obscured by the bulk of the MRI machine. Their expressions shifted from relief at seeing me to suspicion when they spotted Edward, Warda, and Dr. Smith.

"I don't recall giving my approval for anyone other than Duncan and you to join us," Ramona said sharply, her eyes narrowing at the newcomers.

"I had to improvise," I explained, closing the door behind us. "We needed help. Edward has secured the building, and Dr. Smith went to claim the women from computing..."

"And her?" Phoebe nodded toward Warda, not bothering to hide her distrust.

"I'm claimed," Warda stated flatly. "By Edward. I'm here to protect this operation."

Phoebe's face contorted with horror as she processed Warda's status, turning toward Edward. "You claimed her? And you brought her here? Are you—"

"That's enough," Ramona cut in, her voice level but firm. She adjusted her lab coat and fixed Edward with a clinical stare. "I understand the necessity of your actions, but I need to establish a clear boundary. No programmed women in the MRI room. Period."

I nodded in agreement. The fewer variables in our secure space, the better.

Warda's eyes immediately flicked to Edward, her body tensing slightly as she awaited his response. The subtle shift in her posture sent a chill through me.

Edward cleared his throat. "Warda, wait outside. Maintain the perimeter."

"Yes, sir," she replied crisply, and without hesitation, she exited the room, the heavy door closing behind her with a pneumatic hiss.

Phoebe's shoulders visibly relaxed once Warda was gone. She pushed her glasses up her nose and returned to the makeshift workstation she'd assembled near the MRI controls.

Ramona straightened a stack of papers on the small desk near one of the walls. "Now, let's assess our situation. Who did we manage to secure?" Her clinical tone made it sound like we were discussing equipment acquisition rather than the claiming of human beings.

Duncan stepped forward, his fingers tapping nervously against his thigh. "I got Dr. Maren Kephart, Dr. Elodie Thorne, and Dr. Saira Callen from the biology department." He ran a hand over his shaved head. "Couldn't locate Dr. Junia Verhoeven or Dr. Imani Ral. And Dr. Linnea Crespo was already claimed by someone in genetics when I got there. Some postdoc."

"Dr. Ral came to me," I interjected, remembering her calm, analytical approach to her own claiming. "She heard what was happening and volunteered. She's with the others in my office now."

Ramona nodded, making a note on her pad. "Interesting. Self-selection as a protective strategy. Logical."

Dr. Smith cleared his throat. "I managed to claim Dr. Petra Silvra and Dr. Kaori Dressen from computing." He hesitated, adjusting his glasses. "And, somewhat unexpectedly, I found Lenore Renton hiding near the atrium when I was returning. She's now… with me as well."

My stomach tightened at this news. Lenore, brilliant, vibrant Lenore, claimed by Bernard Smith? And what about Elaine? The two women were practically inseparable. I had suspected they had never made it back from town, but if Lenore was here, where was Elaine?

"I couldn't locate Dr. Thalia Wex," Smith added. "Her office was empty."

"I claimed Alva Tanner, Dr. Renata Mendez, Dr. Helena Abbott, Dr. Nia Fenwick, and as I mentioned, Dr. Imani Ral," I reported, the words still feeling foreign in my mouth. "I couldn't get to Dr. Melissa Foster in time. She was claimed by Davidson from quantum computing."

Edward shifted his weight, his expression grim. "Warda found Elaine Pierce hiding in the east corridor service tunnel. She brought her to me, and I…" he trailed off, then straightened his shoulders. "I claimed her. It seemed the safest option at the time."

The implications hit me like a physical blow. Elaine and Lenore, partners, engaged to be married, now claimed by different men. The bond between them, one of the strongest relationships I'd witnessed at Echelon, was now fundamentally altered.

Ramona's face remained impassive, but I caught the slight tightening around her eyes: the only indication that this news affected her. "So that's eleven out of twenty-two. I'm not counting Ms. Tanner, obviously," she said, tallying the numbers. "Half."

The room fell silent as we absorbed this reality. Half of the women we'd identified as crucial to understanding and potentially reversing this situation were now under our control, but that meant half were lost to us, claimed by others or hiding somewhere.

"It's better than I anticipated, given the circumstances," Ramona said finally, her pragmatism reasserting itself. "It will have to do."

"What now?" Phoebe asked, her voice smaller than I'd ever heard it.

Ramona leaned against the MRI console, her expression grave as she surveyed our small group. "We need to establish a secure perimeter around Echelon immediately. The situation outside will only deteriorate as power dynamics settle. I wouldn't expect things to normalize any time soon."

Edward nodded, his military background evident in his posture. "The facility was designed with security in mind. We can lock down all secondary access points and funnel any necessary traffic through the atrium. It's defensible." He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "I've lost most of my team. I think the guys fled, either out of fear or to get a piece of the pie for themselves. But I still have Warda, Rodriguez, and Reeves. Unless we're facing a coordinated ****, we should be able to maintain the perimeter."

"Good," Ramona said. "I want a complete sweep of the building. Anyone not essential to our work needs to leave. The only exceptions are missing women from our list if you locate them, or men who might contribute meaningfully to our efforts." She turned to Duncan and me. "You two will need to vet any male candidates before they're allowed to stay, and I'll make the final decision."

I nodded, though the idea of turning people away into the chaos outside didn't sit well with me. But Ramona was right. We couldn't protect everyone, and our mission had to take priority.

"Mr. Barrett will start sweeping through the building. We'll establish protocols tomorrow," Ramona continued. "For now, I think it's best if everyone else rests and… comes to terms with the situation, if that's even possible." Her clinical tone faltered slightly on those last words, a rare crack in her composure. "We'll reconvene at 0800 hours to discuss logistics, energy usage, food supplies, equipment allocation, and scheduling."

"What about the women we've claimed?" Dr. Smith asked, adjusting his glasses nervously. "What should we do with them?"

Ramona shook her head firmly. "Keep them comfortable but secure. Phoebe and I will brief them tomorrow, after our meeting. Make sure they understand that they will be working for us."

We all nodded in agreement, the weight of our responsibility settling heavily on our shoulders. Ramona and Phoebe retreated to their shielded corner, and we filed out of the MRI room, the door sealing behind us with a heavy thud.

"I need to get to the atrium," I said to Edward as we reached the corridor junction. "My wife is probably here by now."

Edward nodded. "I'll start the sweep from the west wing. We'll meet back at the atrium in an hour to secure the main entrance."

I broke into a jog as soon as we parted ways, my footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. The rational part of my mind knew I should be helping with the security sweep, organizing the women I'd claimed, preparing for tomorrow's meeting, but all I could think about was Wendy. I needed to see her, to confirm with my own eyes that she was truly safe.

I burst into the atrium, my heart pounding against my ribs. The vast space, normally bustling with researchers and visitors, felt cavernous and empty except for two figures near the central fountain. Cedric sat on the marble edge, shoulders slumped, staring at the floor with an expression of utter defeat. Beside him stood Wendy, my Wendy, alive and apparently unharmed. Relief flooded through me like a physical ****.

"Wendy!" I called out, breaking into a run.

She turned at the sound of my voice, her expression flickering with something I couldn't quite identify before settling into a smile. I reached her in seconds, pulling her into my arms, feeling her solid warmth against me.

"Thank God you're safe," I murmured into her hair, breathing in her familiar scent. "Both of you," I added, glancing at Cedric. "Thank you for protecting her."

Cedric didn't meet my eyes. He nodded vaguely, his face a mask of misery that I attributed entirely to Olivia's situation. I should have paid more attention to that look, should have recognized it for what it was, but my relief at finding Wendy blinded me to everything else.

"I was so worried," I continued, pulling back to look at her face. "When I heard what was happening in town—"

Wendy cut me off by leaning forward and pressing her lips to mine. The kiss was passionate, almost ****, but there was something mechanical about it, a performance quality I'd never felt from her before. I dismissed the thought. We were all under tremendous stress. Nothing would feel normal today.

When she pulled away, her eyes darted to Cedric, as if seeking his approval or reaction. The gesture was subtle but unmistakable, and it sent a ripple of confusion through me.

"I'm so sorry about Olivia," I said to Cedric, trying to focus on the immediate crisis. "We'll find her, I promise. We have resources here, people who can help."

Cedric remained silent, his eyes fixed on some middle distance. The depth of his pain was evident, but there was something else there too: a guilt that seemed disproportionate even to the terrible situation.

"You should stay here tonight," I continued, filling the uncomfortable silence. "We have visiting researchers' apartments that are fully furnished. You can use one until we figure out what to do about Olivia."

Cedric nodded mutely, still not meeting my gaze.

I gently pulled Wendy a few steps away, wanting a moment alone with my wife. "I was terrified," I admitted quietly, cupping her face in my hands. "When that message came through, and I realized what was happening…"

"I'm fine," she assured me, her smile a perfect replica of the one I knew so well, yet somehow too perfect, too deliberate. "Cedric protected me. We're both safe now."

A thought that had been lurking at the edges of my consciousness pushed forward: what if someone claimed her before we managed to free women?

The solution seemed obvious, horrible as it was. I had to claim her myself. For her protection. For our marriage. The rationalization came easily, even as my conscience recoiled.

"Wendy," I said softly, taking her hands in mine. "I claim you."

I waited for the change, that subtle shift in posture and expression I'd seen in every woman I'd claimed today. The sudden focus, the devotion, the realignment of priorities. But Wendy just stood there, looking slightly awkward, her expression unchanged.

"Wendy?" I repeated, confusion mounting.

She glanced over at Cedric again, and this time I followed her gaze. Cedric had risen to his feet, his face contorted with anguish, tears welling in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, the words tumbling over each other. "I had to… there were these men… they cornered us in an alley… they were going to… I couldn't let them… I'm so sorry, Gabriel, I didn't want to… I had to protect her… I claimed her… I'm sorry…"

His words dissolved into incoherence, but I'd heard enough. The truth hit me like a physical blow, driving the air from my lungs. Cedric had claimed my wife. My Wendy now belonged to my best friend.

I stepped back from her, my hands falling away as if she'd suddenly become white-hot. The woman standing before me looked like my wife, sounded like my wife, but she wasn't, not in the way that mattered most. Her priorities, her devotion, her love, all of it now redirected to Cedric.

I was staring at Wendy's ghost, the empty shell of our marriage, and the betrayal cut so deep I could barely breathe through it.