Loren Smith emerged from the dressing trailer, escorted by a petite
blonde carrying an ominous-looking machine pistol. Loren's appearance
was strik ingly different than the elegant congresswoman who had
entered there just minutes before. Gone was the stylishly cut
tunic and slacks outfit that she had arrived in.
"Never! I won't stand for this," Loren strained to say,.
Her speech had started to turn sluggish also: "My governm"
she slowed down and stopped finally in mid-word like a wind-up
toy. Loren's mouth remained open, an unvoiced "eh" still
on her lips. It seemed the only movement she had left was to blink
her eyes, and that quickly slipped away as they watched in silence:
!"
:
Now Loren had been costumed in the flashy regalia of a showgirl:
A tight, low-cut rhinestone-encrusted silvery leotard that embellished
the sensuous curves of her trim, tanned figure. Her long slim
legs were now sheathed in flesh-tone fishnet stockings which emphasized
her lissome musculature. High-heeled dancer's pumps transformed
her usually purposeful stride into a very seductive saunter. Long
white silk opera gloves sheathed her arms and hands; a wide rhinestone
choker necklace completed the fetching ensemble. She sparkled
as she walked along, a dazzling ornament to beauty. Loren 's arms
were again bound behind her back; this time with a dark velvet
sash so soft as to leave no marks on her skin.
There was a small group of people nearby in the otherwise deserted
midway , standing in front of a curtained exhibit. Earlier, she
had browsed through this same spot with Dirk. Loren only recognized
von Solitz, though she had seen the others sometime not long ago.
The Baron caught sight of her, and his eyes lit up with thinly
veiled lust as he gazed at her scintillating exposure of feminine
pulchritude. He had been smug and secretive ever since capturing
her at his villa; now he was positively gloating.
"My dear Miss Smith, I must say you look ravishing! This
latest guise certainly suits you splendidly; much better than
your usual unimaginative choices."
Loren hissed back, "You snake! I hope you go blind. You can
force me to dress up like this, but don't expect me to take part
in your demented plans. Do you think I'm going to be some kind
of prize for you to ogle? You're a pathetic pig."
"Ach, such strong words from such a lovely lady. As much
as I delight in your luscious appearance on its own merits,"
he paused to stare at her figure once more, "that particular
costume is a necessary element in keeping you 'hidden' during
your upcoming stay with us. Your Mr. Pitt has somehow discovered
my whereabouts and is bound to pay us an unwelcome visit. He is
a most persistent character."
"Dirk is coming -- here?" she brightened, and some of
her confidence returned. "You'll never get away with this
kidnapping now!"
"Oh, but I already have, my dear!"
He signaled with a wave of his hand and one of his bodyguards
pulled a rope which opened the curtain in front of a small stage.
Within was a tableaux; a diorama scene occupied by motionless
figures of a magician on stage with his female helpers and an
unfortunate volunteer about to be sawed in two. A placard in the
foreground titled the scene as 'The Great Zamanzini' But
there was a difference from when Loren saw this same display earlier;
something had subtly changed.
Von Solitz resumed, "Have you ever heard of the story A purloined
letter ?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Hiding. In plain view, my dear Miss Smith."
The blonde who had assisted Loren while she was changing clothes
came up to face her. She looked familiar, somehow, with the kind
of perfectly made-up face and petite, svelte figure that gave
her an almost doll-like appearance. A living, breathing 'Barbie
Doll'... She performed a brisk model's runway pivot, then held
a static pose for a lingering few seconds.
"Do you recognize Anke, now. Hmm?" The Baron was frustratingly
vague.
"No, not at all," she blustered. But there was doubt
in Loren's eyes.
"Come now. Think back to the weekend, to when you first toured
this arcade. Anke was standing right... there," He pointed
into the diorama, at an empty place where once...
"The other magician's assistant!" Loren gasped as the
blonde's identity came clear, "But that was only a waxwork
figure..."
"Not precisely. Anke is quite animate now, as you can see.
Only a brief while ago, however," He swept his hand across
the display to indicate the still, rigid figures. "There
is your hiding place. All that remains is to complete your disguise;
Pitt will look straight at you within that tableaux and see only
another motionless effigy."
"You mean that they," she glanced at the figures,
"aren't made of wax?"
"No more so than Anke was earlier. I think it is time to
perform a brief but edifying demonstration. You, too, can become
a quite magnificent display figure."
"If you expect me to cooperate with you, Baron, you're completely
out of your mind!" Loren seethed, "There is no way I'm
going up into that display. None."
"Ach, again with insinuations. I assure you that I'm perfectly
sane. As for your cooperation, let's just say you won't be able
to lift a finger to stop me!
While the bodyguards held the struggling Loren, the blonde produced
a small black pouch. Within were a gaudy silver ring, a hypodermic
syringe and a tiny of amethyst-colored liquid. With practiced
movements, Anke extracted and measured out an injection while
the Baron prattled on.
"Here is the essence of all those flawless crimes I have
performed., This single compound, in a way, is the key to my entire
financial empire,. With this potion I have created a virtual cloak
of invisibility! My agents can go anywhere; do almost anything
completely unnoticed. It was discovered quite serendipitously
by a lucky researcher trying to relieve juvenile hyper-activity.
She ended up with something quite the opposite. Quite..."
He continued,
"What I now call my Medusa drug's effects are swift
and extraordinary. Put very simply, it brings about an enduring
state of aphasic catatonia and complete suspension of animation.
Like in the legend of its namesake gorgon, a living person is
turned as still as stone. Just like my colleagues there are..."
He looked again at the tableaux.
"Noooo, not THAT!" Loren had finally put it all together
and realized at last what bizarre fate the Baron had planned for
her - why she had been forced to put on the assistant's costume.
They were going to turn her into some sort of petrified statue!
Fear crept into her voice, but she kept her defiant tone. "It's
monstrous! You'll never get away with it. I am a United States
congresswoman!"
Von Solitz ignored her outburst. "Anke, you may now ready
your stand-in..."
The blonde had finished filling the syringe to the mark, tapped
it expertly, and squirted out the air bubbles. The bodyguards
held their captive in a vise-like grip as Anke approached the
struggling Loren and plunged the extended silver needle deep into
her shapely derriere. The full amount took a few seconds to be
injected. At first, Loren felt no adverse effects. Then, a bit
of dizziness intruded followed by a creeping numbness, a sort
of tightness starting to spread up through her torso.
"Relax, Miss Smith," the Baron soothed, "Anke says
the sensation is rather unique, if highly addictive, and she has
had considerable experience with Medusa. You may have seen her
before - posed in a display window or modeling priceless jewelry
in an art gallery! Anke can easily make herself up to look like
a flawless display mannequin figure or exquisite waxwork, and
nobody ever suspects she can come alive in a minute..."
Loren started to glance back towards the blonde, but her body
didn't respond as quickly as it should have. Things seemed to
be happening in slow moti on.
The Baron turned to the bodyguards, "Release her bonds. It
has been long enough." The velvet cloth vanished from Loren's
wrists and they stepped back, observant. Was she truly being set
free, or was the evil von Solitz merely toying with her?
Feeling a bit light-headed, Loren took one step, seemed to teeter
a bit , and paused. Her intention was to have made a run for the
door, but she was coming under the influence of the potion. There
was no next step. She was stuck firmly in place.
"I - I can't move my feet at all! My fingers, they're getting
numb..." protested Loren, her voice not affected at the moment.
She could feel her body stiffening with every passing second.
First her legs, now her arms and hands were being quickly drained
of vitality; she could not budge them either from their position.
"Please, no. NO!. Don't do this to me!"
"Do not fight it, Miss Smith. Your rather static role in
my plans is inescapable. That massive dose of Medusa is
enough to keep you still as a statue indefinitely. You are a very
statuesque woman , it is only appropriate for you to share that
rare attribute with my patrons as a member of my tableaux . Ach!
It is pointless to try and resist me. Try not to scowl so
much; extreme gestures are so difficult to compose properly afterwards.
Remember, you will retain that same expression for quite a long
time.
Blink - blink.
(five seconds) Blink.
(ten seconds)
B l i n k.
(thirty seconds)
Her final 'b...l.....i......n.....k' slowed and stopped just as
her eyes were fully open, leaving her looking surprised.
Anke approached the transfixed figure and began posing her as
if she were a life-sized marionette. She raised Loren's right
arm above her head and placed her left hand just touching her
hip, assuming the classic showgirl 's pageant stance that Anke
herself knew from experience. It was elegant and easy to retain.
The one step that Loren had been able to take had given her suspended
stance excellent balance. By this time the Medusa drug dose was
having a greater effect, quickly diffusing through her body. She
remained exactly as posed as if she had become some perfectly
crafted mannequin. In a very real sense, she had.
Loren could not move at all. Her eyes were frozen looking straight
ahead and she knew the blonde was positioning her even though
she could not fight it in any manner. It felt strange to be able
to feel the warm touch of Anke's hands and the light breeze of
the midway on her nyloned legs but not be able to budge a millimeter.
She could feel the skintight Lycra sheath gripping to her torso;
stretching taut with each deep slow breath she took. She felt
the pinch of the too-small high-heel shoes on her feet as she
stood motionlessly in place, but she could not wiggle her toes
to lessen the discomfort. She knew the tightness around her throat
was the gaudy necklace.But her muscles were locked; she could
not move her arms, lift a finger, utter a sound or even blink
an eye. Loren was now rooted solidly in place, completely helpless
in solitary confinement inside her own rigid body - watching powerlessly
as she was turned into a statue. It was surreal and deeply frightening
at the same instant.
Anke continued to work on the catatonic victim, composing her
facial expression. Loren was very pretty; it was not difficult
to coax a smile from her full lips and crinkle the corners of
her wide eyes into a wooden look of pleasure. Extracting some
lipstick, mascara, and blusher from the makeup kit, Anke gave
the stiffened woman a slightly more showy appearance with long
dark eyelashes, rosy cheeks and vibrant scarlet lips. It was much
more makeup than Loren herself would ever use on her own; she
looked like a completely different individual.
Anke then applied a heavy coat of a lacquery hair spray appropriately
labeled "Freeze & Set" and with a quick brush styled
Loren's cinnamon-hued tresses into a glossy hardened flip that
heightened the waxwork effect. The coppery strands of her coiffure
now looked synthetic, wig-like, they were so lustrous, rigid and
unyielding.
With a light fog of the same hair spray on Loren's exposed skin
and face, Anke quickly added additional highlights to her curvaceous
figure, giving it a satiny, almost painted cast. This was all
a calculated part of the overall masquerade.
Anke knew that display figures always appeared more elegant than
a living model; there were many telltale clues: posture, expression,
makeup, and hairstyle to name only a few. She had discovered them
all, having tried out most of the innovative cosmetic techniques
on herself - even finding a few new ones - such as the double
layer of ivory-hued pantyhose underneath fishnet stockings that
gave Loren's legs the smooth, even, tone of enamel on a fiberglass
surface Anke was a meticulous master of mimicking an artificial
display figure using a living subject; Loren being the latest
stylish masterpiece. The cosmetics and costume, along with the
static, regal bearing of her pose, had turned Loren into an ravishingly
beautiful mannequin figure.
As the drug relentlessly permeated to the core of Loren's mannequinized
body over the course of the posing and makeup session, she had
become totally stiff and rigid. The amazing effects of the Medusa
potion extended beyond simple paralysis to actually crystallize
her entire body. Her smooth skin had now turned unnaturally hard
and solid; her limbs could not be moved at all. Incredibly, she
was hard as rock.
Within her mind, any hope of escape had vanished long ago. She
had come to the conclusion that Dirk would have
to find her in the tableaux. But would he? Loren tried to think
of ways to alert him and always ran back into the inevitable reality:
I cannot move... or speak. I cannot even blink my eyes.. I've
become a statue!!
Von Solitz had come up to close to Loren. She could smell
the wine on his breath. He regarded her present unmoving condition
against her earlier flippant remark with keen irony, "Oh,
but you are standing for it my dear. Standing still is
all you can possibly ever do from now on, Miss Smith.
Ha, that is really rather ironic, isn't it.You have just become
the latest addition to my collection of lovely
He reached up and caressed her smooth firm cheek. There was no
reaction, no hint of movement from Loren whatsoever. Her glassy-eyed,
vacant stare was a million miles away. There was not the slightest
flutter of her long butterfly-wing eyelashes.
Her lips were held rigid in a theatrical smile, perfectly posed
for her new character. All animation had been suspended flawlessly.
Loren was a superb showgirl figure.
For a professional business woman, he reflected, she really was
in excellent shape. Her belly was flat and well defined, probably
the result of long hours in the gym. She had a narrow waist, a
lovely accent to the flare of her trim hips. Loren's best feature
was her long, shapely legs which were well displayed in this open
pose. The skintight embrace of the spandex costume molded and
emphasized her modest bosom, producing very pleasing cleavage.
Von Solitz realized then that one of the best things about these
lovely unchanging female figures was being able to gaze at them
anytime he desired. His own private sculpture gallery - each modeled
perfectly from life! Anke was a jewel, but now she had competition.
Yes, he thought, Loren Smith had a place here. Permanently?
The Baron abruptly snapped his fingers directly just a few centimeters
from her unblinking eyes, testing for a reaction from the immobilized
captive. There was nothing in response; she was totally lifeless.
Within, Loren raged silently at her predicament - she was being
held captive within her own body, unable to counteract the paralytic
effects of the drug. She tried in vain to run or shout or somehow
protest her improbable situation, but remained absolutely motionless,
frozen in her tracks.
Von Solitz held up a large ring with an immense pearl setting
for her unmoving eyes to gaze at. "This is how you'll stay
concealed and unable to escape. With the delicate concentration
of the Medusa drug now in your body, it now only takes a tiny
amount to maintain the full petrifying effect indefinitely. A
bit of anti-Medusa drug injected into your blood and you will
revive at almost a moment's notice. Anke wears one of these rings
at all times. There are two reservoirs for the drug and the antidote
inside along with a tiny radio receiver, timing device and needle.
Everything is completely automatic, but I can change the program
at any time."
He slipped the ring on one of her slender gloved fingers and pressed
the setting down; there was a click and Loren felt a brief twinge
of pain as the prongs of the insidious device pierced her skin.
Her implausible prison was at last complete. Even if the Baron
was captured she would remain frozen in place in the tableaux,
a flawless showgirl figure. Loren was totally helpless, and she
knew it.
Von Solitz held up the control device to her unblinking eyes.
It looked a bit like a TV remote selector, with many tiny buttons
covering the face,. "Here is the key to your future existance!
Until I change the timer schedule, every few hours you'll get
a new boost of Medusa and stay just as you are now - forever!
There will always be a place for your alluring presence in my
humble sideshow. It would truly be an honor for you to remain
here; being a splendidly stiffened ornament really does become
you."
"What does it feel like to be a statue? He pressed
one of the buttons and she felt more Medusa being injected into
her veins. "To stand there stiff as a board, solid, knowing
you can never move a muscle ever again? To be silent, when all
the world is a cacophany of noise and activity? To surrender yourself
to permanent tranquilty?" He caressed her stiff cheek and
ran his hand along the curve of her rigid form.
"You're nothing more than a display figure now, Loren Smith,
a waxwork, a pretty mannequin for my sideshow! Just another
lovely painted face and exquisite body to decorate my tableaux;
a showpiece for the enjoyment of my patrons. Don't wait for your
Pygmalion, he won't save you. This is your only future now; right
here."
The Baron had finally stopped pushing the control, but a doubly
massive dose of the Medusa drug had been injected into the already
catatonic Loren. It had started to affect her mind. She almost
welcomed the change, just to escape the blatherings of this madman.
He was rambling on: "How long before you crave the
feeling of being immobilized like Anke does now?"
While remaining conscious, she had entered a kind of bemused trance
that left her mind in an uncaring, timeless state. Somehow the
fragment
The wind came up, blowing the leaves and papers around the empty
midway , emphasizing the complete immobility of the newly crafted
wakwork of the "She's ready now - go ahead and put her into
the display," the Baron finally pronounced.
He watched as the bodyguards lifted the stiff-as-a-board figure
of Lore n and carry her horizontally between them. She did not
bend at all and rem ained utterly rigid. Carrying the mannequinized
figure into the diorama and ca refully placing her in the previous
location was an easy task. There were clips attached to the floor
to help hold the model securely in position, however Loren's feet
did not line up to where Anke had stood so only one clip could
be used. Even though the paralyzed lady had retained excellent
balance, Anke braced the new figure with a web of clear monofilament
bracing lines running from several points on her costume and gloves
to anchor points on the floor. This would prevent the stiff figure
of Loren from toppling ov er like a wooden indian when the exhibit
was being moved. Then Anke careful ly added the remaining parts
of the flashy assistant's costume, a long white ostrich-feathered
crown and matching tail fan. The crowning glory of a showgirl.
Now Loren looked almost identical to the other waxwork figures
in the diorama.
Anke stepped back to admire her work. The dazzling Loren was now
comple tely 'in character'. Her pose was elegant but suitably
contrived, her frozen expression matched that of the other bored
assistants perfectly, the ligh t reflected off her lustrous hair
and body in just the right way. Another exquisite job of deception
completed. No-one, not even Pitt, would recognize her.
Within the diorama, Loren was now patiently bemused. To her, subjective
time had stopped; she felt no need to move or speak or blink.
Loren's breathing had slowed along with her metabolism until there
was barely anysign that she was actually alive. Even when the
curtain finally closed and she was alone with the other waxworks,
it seemed perfectly natural. Peaceful. Quiet. Loren felt fulfilled
and content there, unchanging, forever.
And she just might stay that way....