Just prior to the actual reception Lucius led Jonni to a small chair on a low dais and motioned for her to sit. Confused, Jonni quietly did as instructed. She didn't bother asking, thinking that if she quickly and unquestioningly obeyed Lucius now he might think she did not have much to learn in the way of obedience. Standing just a little behind her left shoulder, Lucius nodded to a nearby guard and soon the procession of well wishers began. Some offered only a kind word to the bride or a handshake to Lucius, but more often than not they also left some small token of goodwill on a nearby table. There were only sixty or so guests, but they left behind a small mountain of envelopes and gift boxes. Only a few mentioned precisely what gifts they had given, but of the few that did the gifts were strange enough to pique Jonni's curiosity; the knuckle bones of St. Matthias, an ushabti from the tomb of Akhrasethi, a piece of rock collected by the Mars rover, and other oddments. Jonni gathered that some of the envelopes contained money or even the titles to tracts of land, which she guessed meant little to Lucius now that he had the stone, but she reasoned that he probably had not told very many of even his closest circle of friends about his most important accquisition.
The guests were as strange an assortment as the gifts they brought with them. Some were well-bred and elegantly dressed, affecting courtly manners and treating Lucius as if he were already King of the World, others were loud and crude, bristling with the ostentatious clothes and jewelry of the newly rich, but just as eager to please. A few stood out from the crowd, mostly for the unsettling effect they had upon Jonni's active imagination. There were the "Twins from Berlin" as Lucius called them, a man and woman, equally tall and beautiful with stormy blue eyes and hair so blonde it was almost white. Jonni wasn't sure if they were man and wife, brother and sister, or both. They pushed a wheelchair before them, carrying an aged grandfather, little more than a skeleton wrapped in parchment skin, but with a smiling face and merry eyes that Jonni could have sworn she saw in a book about escaped Nazi war criminals. There was the wild-eyed Scotsman who spoke with excitement of the many great changes to come. He carried a gnarled staff etched with runes and, with his long tangled beard and fur-trimmed cloak, could have easily passed for Gandalf's evil little brother.
The parade of visitors went on until Jonni thought she might scream from all the compliments about her beauty or her maternal glow or comments about how lucky she was to land such a magnificent husband and questions about how many additions she would be making to their little family. Typically these conversational sallies were made by the women in line, while the men attended to their own business. Unfortunately, it was the conversation of the men that intrigued Jonni the most, but which she caught only snatches of. There was the high-powered business executive with the robotic hand, the Arab who spoke perfect Oxford English and whose own veiled bride followed a careful three paces behind him, the pierced and tattooed biker clad in denim and leather that was still dusty from the road, all of whom spoke of "putting the matter to rest" or other cryptic remarks implying some deed DeMorrell had desired was now done.
Finally, at last, it was over! Jonni smiled as they made their way from the private chapel to the dining hall, not because she looked forward to dinner conversation with this band of snobs, criminals, and freaks, but because she could eat something! She and her baby were incredibly hungry. Jonni hoped the chef had made that fancy chicken dish she liked so much. So, the reception proper had finally begun, but after the traditional round of toasts, Lucius stood and made Jonni's apologies for her. She was "overtired" and "had big things ahead of her," which elicited a chuckle from those gathered. Before she quite realized it Jonni had been hustled back to her room to await a small meal that her maid would bring up to her. Of course, just before she was whisked away by her guards, DeMorrell had promised to personally oversee her transfer to their shared bedchamber. He said it with a leer that set her heart racing with a strong mixture of both dread and arousal. Escorted from the table, it irritated Jonni to note the one-eyed best man once more giving her that look of contemptuous amusement as if he well knew what would happen later. Lucius had warned her that they would share a bed as normal married couples did and Jonni had no doubt in her mind that, though the advanced state of her pregnancy made her ill suited for adventure between the sheets, Lucius would give her a vigorous working over tonight.
While she waited for her meal Jonni managed to wriggle out of the wedding dress. Looking at it spread out upon the massive four poster bed she couldn't help wondering if she would ever have a daughter to wear it at her own wedding one day. A second later she caught herself and shook her head furiously. What was she thinking? She didn't want to be a mommy - - or to pass her ridiculous dress on to any daughter, but - - but she was going to be a mommy - - and soon. Jonni cringed inwardly. It was DeMorrell's wish. She couldn't help it. When she envisioned her future it was as a mother and what mother didn't wonder things like that from time to time? Oh God, how much of her, no, him! How much of him, Jon, would be left after all of this? She had actually been thinking of herself as Jonni - - of him as Lucius! As her husband! DeMorrell was destroying her a piece at a time. She had to get her hands on that stone and soon or there wouldn't be anything left of her old self to save!
Jon slipped an airy nightgown over her head and smoothed it down over her many curves, front and back. Disliking how shimmery and transparent it was she wore a light bathrobe over the gown and then settled onto the bed with the latest Star Trek novel. She might never come close to the womanizing grandeur of Capt. Kirk, but she could still read about his adventures and dream the impossible dream, eh? She was just getting to the bit where Kirk was putting the moves on a scantily clad Andorian heiress, becoming increasingly frustrated (and turned on) as she found herself unable to imagine herself in any role but that of the Andorian, when there was a knock at the door. Jon looked up, hating how hot it made her to picture DeMorrell as a starship captain. She was glad for the interruption and yet a part of her wanted the fantasy to go on.
The images her mind conjured of what DeMorrell would do to her tonight were not so horrible anymore. Her mind could logically accept that what had been done to her was wrong, that her new life as Jonni DeMorrell was a complete inversion of the one originally laid out for Jon Gibson, but this body betrayed her. Whether it was womanly weakness or motherly love that made her accept what she once fought with all her heart and mind no longer mattered. The knock came again, light, but insistent, just like the touch of Lucius's hand.
"Come in," Jonni said, a line of worry creasing the skin between her auburn eyebrows. What was happening to her?
The door opened. It was...
