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Girl in the High Tower - Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2019-08-18 17:28:26 +0000 UTC(Edit... Now includes a illustrations by the great @hefty_cuties . In a way, I would like to say that the story inspired his incredible sketches, but also, this sketch inspired the story. Isn't collaboration great? Thanks, @hefty_cuties :-) )
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The roof of Roger’s building wasn’t hard to access. There should have been a lock on the door leading out onto the barren top terrace of his building, but the latch had been frozen open years ago, in his estimation, long before he had moved in. He didn’t make it up here too much, though on occasion, he had known it to serve as a late-night gathering space where neighbors who wanted to smoke a joint in peace tended to gather in the shadows of mammoth air conditioning units, safely away from the foot traffic of the streets below.
Carrying the drone under his arm, Roger craned his neck upward toward the towering megastructure that had only recently finished construction. A smattering of long rectangles of light indicated the few units that were either inhabited, or in which people were home — it was still too early for anyone to be asleep — but the line of illuminated squares he was searching for were not in view; the apartment that had so occupied his mind was on the other side of the building,
The blueprints he had managed to obtain (and had since committed to memory) explained more: the mysterious woman with the unquestionably enormous breasts lived on the top level of the building, in a sprawling penthouse that occupied one half of the entire floor. Though he had never seen this unit with his own eyes, he knew enough about it to (at least) know where the windows were, and to know that a large corner of the apartment was occupied by a large terrace, complete with swimming pool.
Before jumping on the drone idea, he had managed to sneak his way into one of the top floors of a nearby building (a pair of binoculars in his messenger bag). But it was no use. The new structure was by far the tallest for blocks around. And even when the coast was clear and he had pulled out his binoculars for a moment, he felt a pang of a ruined experiment: what he assumed was the pool was surrounded by a solid wall; the view through the windows, 30 stories above, yielded only a sliver of ceiling.
He remembered how his disappointment quickly morphed into an even greater curiosity: of course she wouldn’t be living across the street from another window. This woman valued her privacy, after all, and who would want to live their whole life with the curtains drawn so prying eyes from an office across the street didn’t start spreading rumors and hosting viewing parties? Better to just be above everybody else.
But how did she afford this place? Roger seldom followed the news, but he knew the phrase “Russian oligarch” was not typically a synonym for “peasant farmer.” Was this his wife? Where was he? (Google had been very little help.) Did she live alone, save for the stern woman who shooed him off when he had posed as a flower courier? Roger couldn’t imagine that she really ever left the apartment. Was she a weird kind of prisoner? Though he had seen nothing on this excursion, he was still, somehow, left with more questions than answers.
But that’s what you’re for, he thought, as he gently set the drone on the rooftop. Powering on the machine and the matching remote control unit, he did a mental checklist. Battery, check; camera, check; memory card, check. Pre-flight complete, as he flicked on the screen on the remote control unit. The camera showed him a snippet of his shoe. Hitting the “record” button, he spooled the fans, lifting the unit only a few feet off the ground. Like riding a bicycle, the controls came back to him quickly — the last thing he needed was to smash his new toy into the side of the building — and gingerly, carefully, he sent it sailing off into the night sky.
Roger had been mapping out the course in his mind over the last week, and so far, the drone was obeying: straight up until safely over the rooftop of the neighboring skyscraper; across the roof; angle the camera straight down to scope out the pool area; and finally, hope that the extra money he spent was worth it, and that the signal would hold as it swooped the machine over the other side of the building, on level with the bank of windows that spread across the entire facade.
So far, so good. It didn’t take much searching to spot the lights in the elevated pool that ran along the length of the outdoor terrace. The night obscured much of the view, but from the best roger could tell, the outdoor space was all but devoid of life. No surprise there.
Focusing intently on the screen, Roger ensured that the drone had cleared the building before pivoting the camera lens horizontally, aiming it back at the building. His heart jumped into his throat as he saw the bank of windows that spanned the entirety of the top floor illuminated. Slowly, carefully, he lowered the camera just above what he assumed was the middle of the avenue below. Foot by foot, he kept a paranoid eye on the signal bar, terrified that the connection between the drone and the remote control would suddenly cut out, leaving his drone to begin a slow descent into the street below. But the signal held strong… even as he inched the drone closer to the window just adjacent to the walled-in terrace.
The view inside was unobstructed, with hardly a sign of… anything. It took Roger a moment, judging from the tiny image on the screen in front of him, to figure out what was odd about this space. But then it hit him. There were no walls.
On the end of the apartment he was viewing, next to the wide sliding door that led outside to the terrace, a long kitchen opposed by a standalone island, clean and uncluttered. Slowly easing the drone along the length of the apartment, new spaces came into view, each unobstructed by barriers of any sort. A dining table with what appeared to be a large, semi-circular notch cut out of it. A living area in the center of the room, adorned by an oversized couch and a large screen television suspended from the ceiling in the middle of the room. A long wall of bookshelves next to a chair that appeared to come out of a science fiction movie. Finally, a few alcoves that didn’t come into full view — maybe that explained where the bathroom was?
For only an instant, Roger took notice of an additional feature in the odd, elephantine space — this minimalist luxury warehouse at the top of the world: a grey track of steel that ran in a circuit along the ceiling.
Again, more questions. An apartment this size, Roger estimated, should have been large enough to easily accommodate 5 bedrooms with space to spare. But this was constructed intentionally differently. Unfinished, but somehow complete, to serve a very specific purpose. Roger checked again to make sure the camera was still recording — he would have to watch this video later, in order to find…
Ten feet from the window Roger’s drone positioned itself in front of, the first sign of life in the otherwise empty apartment. It was a vision that caused Roger to consciously manage his hands from running the drone wildly off course, but he held it together, even though he didn’t know how long he had been holding his breath.
The same tall, stern woman who he had encountered at the front door days before was dutifully hovering over a low-lying California King-sized bed, conversing with an auburn-haired woman who was positioned in the center, reclining into at least a dozen overstuffed pillows.
It was her. Instead of being tied into a ponytail, as he had seen her on the street, her hair was splayed loosely, draping over a shoulder. Without her sunglasses, he saw more of her youthful face. Her narrow eyes seemed to convey a curiosity as her pouty lips moved in conversation with her… nurse or maid? Nursemaid?
Beginning just under her armpits, and terminating at the foot of the large bed, a sheer white sheet covered her body. But even obscured, it was impossible to ignore exactly what the sheet was covering. To either side of this mysterious, beautiful woman’s body, large mounds sloped gracefully and rested with a weight that seemed almost certain, seeming to reach nearly the same latitude as what Roger could only assume were her toes.
The drone rose a few feet, offering a slightly more arial view. The nurse took a position sitting on the edge of the bed, casually talking to the auburn-haired, impossibly proportioned woman as she gently lay a hand on the scarcely covered right-hand tit. A few light pats caused the flesh to gently yield, sending out a scarcely noticeable ripple as the soft flesh reacted.
The girl pointed to the bottom of her left breast, far out of reach of her own arm, to a place where the bedsheet had apparently been pinned down by incredible girth. Standing and crossing to the other side the the bed, the nurse freed the light sheet, and which a quick whip, raised it from the surface of the bed, allowing it to rest evenly, again, across the woman’s impossible body. And for the briefest of instants, Roger could swear that the high angle allowed him a quick view — something that he justified could only be a shadowed nipple, mere inches from a foot.
Roger felt lightheaded, and was only reminded to breathe by a tightening in his pants.
The woman motioned a thank you to the nurse. Smiling weakly, she made a motion to an area elsewhere in the cavernous apartment, and momentarily, the nurse left the space.
This was the first time Roger had seen the woman alone, in her element. He felt like a trespasser — it had been a feeling lingering somewhere inside since the moment the drone left the ground — and was still somewhat convinced that this person, prone and pinned to her luxurious bed, would be able to see him if she only glanced up. Roger was fairly certain that this wouldn’t be easy: with the lights on inside the apartment, the drone ought to be fairly incognito, though he felt a part of him was standing outside the window, peeking in. And in a way, this was true, even if he had only sent an electronic surrogate.
Alone for the first time (at least in his experience) he managed to tear his attention away from this woman’s breasts, and take a closer look at her face. She stared ahead, and other than letting out a small yawn, seemed… sad? Maybe it was boredom? She didn’t seem unhappy per se. But there was a tone of loneliness in her eyes. As if, even before drifting off to sleep, she already knew that tomorrow promised the same lack of excitement that today proffered, and the day before, and the day before…
Roger had meant to zoom in the camera. But in his distraction, he had inched the drone itself closer and closer to the window. He didn’t realize his folly until it was too late — the drone stuttered and faltered, having been impeded on its course by the barrier of the window. His eyes shot open in dread as he saw, in all the vibrations as the machine attempted to right itself, that the noise has been loud enough to draw the attention of the auburn-haired woman. The Doritos bag all over again, dammit, he thought, letting out an audible, exasperated grunt.
Maybe she still couldn’t see! Maybe she would just think that it was a bird, or something. But he wasn’t stupid. If she couldn’t hear the drone through the thick window, her continued gaze reminded him that the drone did contain a couple of obnoxious red lights that had almost certainly given him away.
His thumb was primed to set the drone skyward, out of harm’s way. It wasn’t like she would be able to trace him down, or even be able to do anything about this intrusion, but it was precisely that intrusion — the fact that his presence was now known — that caused a feeling of guilt to well inside of his chest. In all of his obsession, he had neglected one very important thing: that this girl was just trying to live her life in peace. A peace he had barged in on. Maybe he was insane. Or had been driven insane. But now, for the first time, he thought, this might be a bad idea. Maybe it would be best if this was… over.
His thumb rested on the joystick as he said a mental goodbye to the alluring, impossible woman, spread out in all her glory, on a bed high in the sky, less than a block from where he slept at night. But just before the small robotic vehicle was set to fly out of sight, he noticed her expression change, from one of startled, unexpected fright, to one of urgency, shaking her open palms in front of her and, with a single finger, motioning what she knew was a camera to “wait just a moment.”
Pivoting her upper body to the right-hand nightstand, she leaned to the best of her ability, clearly fighting against the superior tug of her left breast, and picked up a medium-sized journal. Wrenching it open to the first blank pages she could find, she clicked open an attached pen and scrawled quickly, darting her eyes upward to detect if the drone was still there.
When she had finished, she whipped the notebook to face the window, presenting a hastily-drawn scrawl that read:
@NADYA99KOSHKA
Roger was confused. If he were honest with himself, he was half expecting the message to read “FUCK YOU!” But… Was she… She was sending him a message? A way to get in touch? There’s this creeper with a drone hovering just outside of her window, and she’s offering a way for him to… contact her?
She whipped her head to the side — her nurse must have been returning, because she closed the book and quickly hid it under the sheets, presumably in the vastness of space between her torso and her left breast.
Sure enough, the nurse returned a moment later with a cup of tea, and the mystery woman ignored the drone. Roger was still sure she was going to point out its presence to her helper, but the nurse returned to sitting at the bedside, resting her hand again on one maddening boob, and their conversation returned to normal.
It wasn’t until the nurse turned her attention to elsewhere in the apartment that the woman looked again at the drone, the same urgent expression as before, but with a sense of pleading underscoring her eyes. She made a shooing motion with her hand, just slight enough for Roger to get the message. It was time to leave her alone and get out of there.
To Be Continued...
Comments
Roger Wells
I think Roger is falling inexorably in love with her, his obsession.
Roger Wells
Roger, wants only you....everything....is you.
