Island IV – Meetings · Part 16

Island IV – Meetings · Part 16 (16/21)
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Brokerage Life “Before we run out of time, can you tell us a little bit about your daily life? What’s it like, belonging to one of the most influential men here on North Island? Any little quirks you’re permitted to reveal?

“Before you start, I should mention I’ve met Barbara once before, while out with my master walking along the Strand in town. I posted a picture from that meeting on the website. What caught my attention is the way you have to sit with your hands on your knees. Anyone watching live on camera can’t see it with the burqa on, and the camera is at the wrong angle anyway. So, can you explain the mystery?”

“To be clear, it wasn’t my idea,” Barbara began. “Naturally I assumed the usual practice, hands folded in lap, would be the rule. I’d practiced it for hours in front of a mirror. You know how it is; I wanted to present myself to my future master in the best possible light. In fact, the first few days at the brokerage I had some help from an expert on the intricacies of sitting in a chair. Anyway, no one was more shocked than me when my new owner upended all my careful planning.”

Selene nodded in understanding. “So, it was entirely your master’s idea?”

“Yes, it was. In fact, it was one of his first rules on how I was to behave. He showed me exactly what he wanted to see. It is a hard and fast rule; one of those ‘no discussion, no questions’ type of commands where you simply do as you’re told. No discussion means I can’t ask why either, so whatever the reason may be, he won’t share it with me.”

“I’m sure many of our listeners can relate,” Selene added. “Is it difficult, having to sit that way? It’s quite rare, or so I’m told. Have you encountered anyone else who has to follow the same rule?”

Barbara didn’t want to mention her friend Elise by name, to protect her privacy. “I did meet someone else, by chance. I won’t mention her name, but she’s in virtually the same situation as I am. She did mention her master is typically very lenient, but in this one particular he is quite insistent in enforcing his wishes. Now if pressed I might say my master is, umm, not exactly strict, maybe he is so accustomed to being obeyed he doesn’t think about it? Like my friend’s case though I would say my master verges on the fanatical when it comes to where my hands belong. And before your listeners start sending in scathing comments, my master did permit me to use ‘fanatical’, so it’s his characterization as much as mine.”

Selene changed the subject. “You came to our little slice of heaven from South Island. How has it been, making the adjustment as a woman living here in North Island?”

Barbara expected that question and was prepared. “Of course I’d read all about the laws here, plus as many personal blogs as I could find. Even so, it still hit me as soon as I stepped off the ferry. All of us are property, for a lifetime, not just a year or two. It changes your perspective when you pass that point of literally no return. Good or bad I couldn’t turn around and get back on the ferry.”

Selene interrupted. “In the last segment we talked about how you arrived on North Island. The brokerage you chose was Madsen Brokerage, the one run by Mr. Madsen? Do you spend much time there now?”

“It depends on master, of course, but in general I am often at the brokerage. I’m not permitted to work at a regular job, though I do help out at master’s direction. He likes to have me participate in new training programs, to find out what I learn from it. And if my owner is traveling without me along, I always stay at the brokerage until he returns. We don’t live there, but I do have comfortable quarters while I’m on my own, waiting. As long as I behave, he doesn’t leave me chained to the wall in a dungeon basement for days at a time, despite the claims you read about in the tabloid websites.” Barbara managed to sneak in a low key commercial by mentioning Madsen Brokerage’s reputation of decent treatment and advanced training. She hoped Ray would notice.

Selene laughed. “And here I was hoping for an exposé on the brutal, sordid details of the inner workings at one of our more famous businesses.”

“Sorry to disappoint. As master often reminds me, cruelty is bad for business. Of course, there are rules, reasonable ones, and they are enforced. After all, we need structure and boundaries in our lives.”

“Our listeners love to hear specifics. Can you give us some examples?”

Barbara paused for a moment. “Sorry, I had to review what I’m allowed to say. Anyway, there are some policies that are security-related. Obviously, I can’t discuss those, other than to say they are in place as much to protect the women as well as ensure they don’t leave without permission. My own kidnapping resulted in some extra precautions my master takes to keep me safe. They can be, um, inconvenient at times, but I understand the necessity.”

Selene asked another question. “What about your daily routine? You mentioned you don’t live at the brokerage. Are there days you’re on your own, at home?”

“At first yes, I was allowed to stay home. After the incident, not at all. I can still go out on my own during the day, shopping or meeting with friends for lunch. I’m never alone though. There’s a bodyguard from the brokerage somewhere in the background, every minute, watching over me. In the beginning, I didn’t think it was necessary. Master told me it was for my own good, and he knew best. You can’t argue with that! After that kidnapping of a Facility woman on South Island, I have to confess it is reassuring now; master was right.”

Selene nodded. “The abduction left us all a little paranoid. Okay, do you have regular assignments at the brokerage?”

“Master does keep me busy, though I wouldn’t say there’s a regularity about it. I’m his guinea pig for new programs.” Barbara ran her hands down the sides of the burqa. “As I mentioned earlier, I’m a participant in the test program for an introduction to living in an observant household. No special privileges, by the way; I’m treated as part of a group consigned to intensive training. We all live, eat, and sleep together in the dormitory. The guards are just as tough on me as the rest of the group.”

“And when you finish, what then?” Selene asked.

“Master wants to hear all about it. Did I think it was worth the effort, what should be changed, what were the good and bad points? He listens, and takes me seriously. Of course, I miss seeing him when on assignment, but working together, it’s something special. You know?”

Selene didn’t answer, except to glance over at the control booth. She knows, Barbara thought, she works with her owner on the podcast every day. “What about the times when nothing special is going on, how do you keep busy?”

Mentioning her Gilded Cage was forbidden, so she’d have to improvise. “I do have time to myself. I’m not allowed to go into details, Selene. I’m sure your listeners understand, master’s explicit orders. Sometime master does call me into his office, just to keep him company. We might talk, or I’ll sit on the couch quietly while he works. He tells me I’m a calming influence when he’s had a bad day.” Barbara smiled. “I like to think that’s something special I can do for him.”

A red light started flashing. “We’re out of time for tonight. I hope we can persuade Barbara’s owner to permit her to come back again. Please, be sure to ask if you can like and subscribe to the podcast, you know the drill. Help keep the Island Moon Maid on the air by visiting our sponsors. Til next week…”

The Syndicate Meeting

Last Minute Addition Ray was off to another business meeting, which left Barbara alone in her Gilded Cage sanctuary. No program today, which meant she had some free time to relax. From what little he had mentioned, some kind of business meeting, it sounded like he’d be busy most of the afternoon. Exactly how long was something Ray almost never shared with her. I don’t need to know, she reminded herself. For some time now she’d come to appreciate how much Ray enjoyed his little power play, keeping her in the dark until the last minute.

Why am I complaining? It’s better I have to guess. It keeps me from getting lazy. That’s how she justified accepting her situation, even though it did bother her. In the meantime, there was no reason she couldn’t take advantage of the opportunity. There was a bottle of wine, plus a new flavor of cheese in the refrigerator. Time for a little wine-tasting event.

Before she reached the kitchen the outside door opened unexpectedly. She rushed to her designated spot in front of the bars. In came Les Unger, Ray’s head of operations and backup monitor for Barbara’s Gilded Cage. He had one hand wrapped around the arm of a woman Barbara didn’t, make that couldn’t, recognize. She had her hands cuffed behind her back, with a waist chain, and shortened leg irons that slowed down her walk. A cloth hood over her head acted as a blindfold. She wore a simple, pastel green shift, not a company uniform, which told Barbara this woman wasn’t part of the brokerage inventory.

“There’s been a last-minute change of plans,” Les announced. “This is Sandy. Her owner, a Mr. Cooper, is a very recent addition to the business meeting you know about. Mr. Madsen has graciously offered to look after her while they are busy.” Translated that meant Ray had volunteered Barbara for the hostess assignment.

Since he hadn’t asked a question, Barbara remained respectfully silent. Les unlocked the gate and led the woman inside. He began removing her restraints, hood last, and finished by closing and locking the gate behind him.

“Sandy is here as Mr. Madsen’s personal guest. Her presence is confidential.” He nodded toward Barbara’s companion. The implied meaning was clear. She was to be treated as a visitor, not an involuntary asset due to be auctioned. Without any other explanation he left, shutting the outside door. Confidential, which meant Sandy was someone hiding from the public eye.

Sandy stood as still as a statue. She isn’t sure about what to do. Time for me to go to work. Barbara took a step back. “Hello, my name’s Barbara. I was just about to go fix a snack in the kitchen. Why don’t you join me?”

Sandy silently followed Barbara, already heading to the kitchen area. “Sorry,” she spoke up for the first time. “I’m not sure what the rules are in here. I don’t even know where ‘here’ is. Master didn’t have time to give me any instructions.”

Barbara pointed to the ceiling. “You’re in the basement of Madsen Brokerage. Mr. Madsen is my owner. You might say we’ve been parked in here until they conclude some kind of business deal, however long that takes.” She took out the bottle of wine and placed it on the counter.

Feeling more at ease, Sandy jumped into the conversation. “My owner is Mr. Cooper. He is, or was, I’m not sure, with the Fire Department’s Search & Rescue. We just moved back to North Island. Aside from some time across the Channel I lived on this side for a little over ten years.”

Barbara didn’t miss the momentary look of shock on Sandy’s face when she saw the wine bottle. She’s a hardliner; a perfectionist who doesn’t tolerate any mistakes. In a way that makes two of us, except I only judge myself. Barbara took down some saucer plates from a cupboard and added them onto the counter. No wonder she arrived trussed up in all those chains. I bet she insists on it.

“I’m having cheese, some crackers, olives, and a glass of that red stuff. I know nothing about wine, so I have no idea if it’s good or bad. Master picked it out for me. Ahh…do you have permission to drink wine? If not, there’s plenty of other choices in the refrigerator.”

Sandy looked thoughtful. “Before dropping me off Master said I could use my own discretion, as long as I didn’t violate any brokerage house rules. I’m sure if you can have a glass, then so can I.”

“Wow! A blank check for behavior; I’m jealous. Let’s take these into the living room and get comfortable. We may be here a while.” Barbara picked up her glass and plate of munchies; Sandy followed close behind.

When they sat down on the sofa Sandy tasted her wine. Looking around, she asked, “Okay, I’ve heard Madsen Brokerage is very progressive, but all this can’t be standard issue for the women housed here. I thought I was fortunate when I had a room to myself; an entire apartment, that’s beyond belief.”

Barbara started laughing. “Sorry, but you’re right. Master created this just for me, when I have to be left alone.” She pointed to the bars. “It’s what I call my Gilded Cage. It’s very comfortable, yet there’s always that reminder I’m confined in here. Not that I’m complaining; I like my creature comforts. Between this and sitting stripped naked on a cold concrete floor, chained to a wall, in the dark, I’ll take the cage anytime.”

“A gilded cage, what a nice turn of phrase,” Sandy said, before sipping some more wine. “The olives go well with the cheese. I like manzanilla olives with pimentos; it’s a nice contrast. My previous master took us to Spain once, where I saw a pimento bush. I never knew this, but pimentos are a type of chili pepper. Columbus brought back the seeds to Spain, starting a whole new food trend.” She bit into a chunk of cheese, followed by an olive.

“The ‘Gilded Cage’ dates back almost as far as pimentos, to the 1600s. It means a life of luxury, but without true freedom.” Barbara waved her hand around, encompassing the whole apartment. “It is accurate.” She pointed to the bars. “We’re literally in a cage, luxurious but deprived of our freedom. Of course it’s voluntary; I want to be here. Not that it matters; I go where I’m told.

“It’s taken me a while, two years, but I feel like I’m at home now. It helps that I have a good man for an owner. He’s not lenient or particularly forgiving though. I wonder if any of the men on this side of the Channel could be considered as ‘lenient’ types? I wound up here after I sold myself to Madsen Brokerage, with no clue as to who would be my master. I was incredibly lucky that Mr. Madsen picked me out of the crowd.”

Sandy smiled. “You weren’t the only one to take a short cut to get here. I sold myself to a brokerage too, but not this one. I had to go through an auction. To this day I’d give anything to know what I sold for.”

She stared at Barbara. “Wait a minute, you’re that Barbara, from the Moon Maid’s podcast? You were involved in that kidnapping, the crazy guy; I listen to her every week, since she began.” Sandy’s eyes widened. “I remember I read everything I could find about that incident. For weeks afterward I was afraid to leave the house on my own, until Master finally put a stop to it.”

Sandy abruptly halted with a chagrined expression. “Is it true, you saw the guy being shot? Sorry if I shouldn’t ask. It’s just that you don’t often come across someone who was an eyewitness to a violent crime.”

Barbara shook her head. “No, I can talk about it. It’s true, I had a front row seat, so to speak. That guy was seconds away from carving me up with a knife, so you’ll understand I don’t have much sympathy for what happened to him. It’s not at all like a TV drama; he just sort of fell over. Anyway, morbid subject. Did I hear right, you lived on North Island for ten years?”

Sandy took another bite of cheese. “Most of my adult life; I was only 21 when my previous master bought me. There were four of us, that’s the legal limit here. I was the youngest. He had definite ideas about what he wanted, though in retrospect he was patient with me, until I learned how he wished me to behave. Overall, the four of us were treated very fairly. Which is to say we were all punished if any one of us made a mistake.”

Sandy set down her glass. “We had a very good life, comfortable but not extravagant. My previous owner was well off, but I had no idea how wealthy until I accidently heard the news after the accident. We didn’t have one of those ‘rich and famous’ lifestyles, other than master’s boat. He was so passionate about sailing…” Her voice trailed off.

That was the moment Barbara recognized Sandy, from TV and websites. All of Island society was talking about the sudden death of Sam Willis, and how there was only one survivor, Sandra. The big news was the size of his estate and what had happened to it. No wonder this visit was secret. It also explained why she was at the brokerage. What better place to keep her safe and avoid publicity during the business meeting.

Sandy spotted the sudden change in Barbara. “I’m guessing you figured out who I am? Master tells me I’m a minor celebrity. He didn’t allow me to read any stories about myself, until a few days ago. You probably know more about what happened than me. Anyway, if you can see your way to avoid the subject I’d appreciate it. Master’s orders, I’m sure you understand. It’s not an outright ban, but he prefers I avoid talking about the accident to anyone else.”

Barbara rested her hands on her knees, leaned forward, and said, “Okay, change of subject. There’s someone you should meet, if you can obtain permission. Her name is Selene. You mentioned you listened to the Island Moon Maid podcast? I’m sure she’d love to have you come on her show. I can ask my master to pass on her master’s contact information.” Like Barbara’s visit, any negotiations would be between owners. Mr. Cooper would decide if Sandy was to be interviewed.

“You really met Selene? She always has these fascinating interviews, along with news about the Island.”

“You heard, I was on her show not too long ago. I like the way she doesn’t go for those ‘gotcha’ type questions like TV reporters. You’d do most of the talking, about anything you want. I’m sure women like us would love to hear your story.”

Sandy looked hesitant. “I confess I’m not comfortable being in the spotlight. I like a nice, simple, quiet life, without people pointing at me when I’m out in public.”

Barbara waved off their celebrity status as old history. “The price of fame, I suppose. Neither of us can go out on our own without being mobbed. Oh well, something else will come along and we’ll be forgotten.” She lifted up her wine glass. “Until then, we can drown our sorrows together.”

Sandy raised her glass in salute. “In case you didn’t know, there were four of us. The day of the accident master wasn’t pleased with me that morning, so I was left behind. The other three, my sisters, as I thought of them, were all on the boat. I don’t have any close friends left. It’s so nice to have someone I can talk to again.”

Greed Is Good When everyone was seated around the table in his backyard patio, Jim Lassen called the meeting to order. “I’d like to thank all of you for coming today. The reason we’re here is to make money, so let’s get to it. As I’ve explained to each of you in the invitation, the object of this syndicate is to raise private capital in order to take advantage of certain imbalances in African arbitrage rates for foreign exchange, FX for short.

“Before we start getting into details, I’d like to announce a late addition to the syndicate. Tom Cooper, from South Island, has decided to invest in our enterprise.” Tom stood up to introduce himself. “Tom’s contribution will significantly increase our leverage, which I’ll explain in a moment. Share percentages will decrease, but we’re looking at a much bigger pie to divvy up in terms of return on investment.”

Jim turned to the man sitting next to him. “These market imbalances indirectly involve gas well operations on the Arabian peninsula, so I’ve invited Ralph Welk, the resident expert on oil and gas wells here on Isla Del Sur, to provide us with legal advice and some perspective on the regional politics. Part of the imbalance I spotted involves deals with financing natural gas being sold to foreign militaries. Working in Africa, especially across borders when it comes to energy sectors, can be complicated.”

Ralph stood up. “I’m not a syndicate partner, only the legal advisor, so keep that in mind. My participation is based on a contingency fee, so in a sense I’m an investor too. I will remind everyone that as a formally retained attorney anything you discuss with me is subject to privileged communication. I’ll skip my background, since Jim has provided it as part of the prospectus. I am based on South Island but I want to reassure everyone I have no bias against North Island society. Or against making money!”

He turned to their host. “And I’d like to say thanks to Jim, for hosting my Erin while we’re meeting. It’s her first time here, so I’m sure she’s learning all about the, umm, peculiar nature of living on North Island.” That brought a laugh from all present.

Jim stood up again. “Okay, down to business. This syndicate is a private venture, formed for an express purpose. All of you have bought in, with varying share percentages based on capital ventured. That’s why Tom’s addition is important. We can now move a much larger trade in those critical first few seconds. This is a onetime opportunity, so secrecy is paramount.

“Once I execute the FX trade the high-speed trading computers on Wall Street will spot the currency fluctuation and that’ll shut the window of opportunity almost immediately, so it will be a single trade only. Now, nobody is going to become an overnight billionaire from this, but I am convinced the rate of return will be at least twice what a six-month T-Bill yields. Given we’re covered by Saudi tax laws the actual ROI is even better, no capital gains. However, we’re dealing with Africa, so there’s a risk, as Ralph described in the prospectus. Here’s how I plan to proceed…”

The P Word Sheila sat across from Karen at the kitchen table. “Looks like all the men are out in the backyard. Everyone else is in the living room,” Karen observed, while nursing a glass of iced tea. “We can’t go outside without permission. That includes the backyard. I hope you don’t mind being stuck in the kitchen, waiting to see if they need anything.”

Through the patio door they could see the meeting in progress, though they couldn’t hear what was being discussed. None of the women were to interrupt except in an emergency. Sheila and Karen had volunteered to stay at the kitchen table in case the men signaled they needed something.

Sheila nodded. “That’s okay, I think we all know about rules. Made to not be broken, et cetera, et cetera. Master told us about how Mr. Lassen owns three women, which I found hard to believe at first. What keeps you from coming after each other with kitchen knives?”

Karen laughed. “There are days I wonder about that question myself. I’m the latest addition. You met Jeanne, who was first, and Anna. Jeanne is what you might charitably call overzealous; she keeps us all in line when it comes to behaving. She doesn’t mind the label, by the way. Anna is our source of warmth and compassion; she never argues with either of us. And me, I’m the intellectual. I suppose we’ve learned to rely on each other; sort of one big, mostly happy family.”

Sheila sipped at a glass of beer, always careful to keep one eye on the meeting outside. “As you can see, Penny and I are from the Facility. We met there and became close friends, thrown together in adversity, I suppose. We eventually earned a semi-private room which we shared together. That’s a giant step up from the group dormitory, or what we called the Barracks. Penny is the extrovert, outgoing and the life of the party. Me, I’m the opposite, introverted and content to stay in the background. Neither of us ever expected to wind up on North Island, much less belonging to the same owner.”

She stared out the kitchen window. “I noticed you have a great view of the Channel from your living room.” She pointed to the cliff behind the yard. “From our front room we have a close in view of the side of a mountain, much like that one. I’m at the point where I recognize individual bushes.”

Karen laughed. “Other side of the street and we’d be looking at that cliff too. I assume you’re aware you and Penny stand out here on North Island? You’re minor celebrities. This is the first time I’ve ever met someone who went through the Facility, other than a short stay at the South Island clinic. One of the nurses who looked after me was from there too. I’m sure you know about what happened to Anna, the kidnapping, and how I tried to run away? By the way, running with your hands bound behind your back? Despite what you see on TV, in reality it’s almost impossible to keep your balance.”

Sheila had seen the story on the news from two years ago. Karen was downplaying her part in trying to obtain help and preventing a real tragedy. “I read everything I could find about your attack. I remember it because a week later I got the acceptance notification from the Facility. After that what news we were allowed to see was heavily censored.

Island IV – Meetings · Part 16 (16/21)
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