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The spare, fit scientist took Opal to be inspected by a formidable matron in a palatial penthouse atop a meticulously preserved pre-war apartment tower. At this time we cannot reveal the location. They may have stayed in Philadelphia, or traveled a short distance up to Gotham, or down to Baltimore. We might be in Boston, too, for that matter. Since, as discussed earlier, we only pretend this is fiction, security is of the utmost.
They parked in a clean, crisp, underground garage... all smooth, polished concrete and creamy gray paint, amidst a candy box of vintage limousines plus the occasional Duesenburg or two. A liveried flunky opened the door, addressed the spare, fit woman by name (prefaced by her academic degree) and lead them to a somewhat small, private elevator carpeted in plush Aubusson and paneled in antique, gold smoked mirror. Of course all trim and fittings were of finest, heavy bronze... No brass... Too garish. The flunky went with them, as he was the pilot of the contraption, since it lacked the accordion-like arrangement of illuminated buttons we've all learned to expect.
The conveyance silently ascended. Six minutes later they arrived at the fifty first floor and followed the liveried flunky out into a marble beaux arts foyer, through two tall doors opening on a large bright salon. Zombies have no aversion to sunlight, you know. A stately, older woman, seated on a chintz divan appraised them as they drew near. The spare, fit woman nodded. The stately matron nodded back. Opal just took it all in. Then the seated woman addressed the flunky and said - Did anyone else witness their arrival?..... No, Madam - he said. I sent them away, other garage personnel, I mean, as the car approached..... And is the driver still down there? - she asked..... Yes, Madam - he said. Still in the car.... She reached into a small, beaded bag at her side, drew out a polished, chromium pistol, gave it to the young flunky and said - I want you to go down, shoot the driver, then step into one of the janitor's closets and shoot yourself. Aim for the head, behind your ear. It should be painless..... He nodded.... Thank you, Bainbridge - she said..... He nodded once more and left. They heard the door close, as he rode down..... Will he do it? - asked the spare woman...... Of course he will. You know how things are here. Now, please, sit down.... They did, though the scientist woman appeared a bit concerned, as they made small talk. Suppose she too was superfluous? But they needed her to insure optimal fertility, so til then she was safe.... maybe.
The matron turned her gaze toward Opal and said - So, this is the one. And I am to play Madam Alverez to her Gigi. Well, I've done it before. I'm up to the task...... Then she paused for a moment and whispered - It's over. He's done it..... You mean the flunky? - said the spare woman..... The matron nodded..... Little Opal found her voice and quietly asked - Please, lady, how do you know?..... The matron reached over, patted her hand and said - Telepathy, my dear. Tell me. Do you know German?...... Opal shook her head...... No, of course you don't - said the teacher..... Languages, my dear. Tomorrow we start with languages.....
So they did. The training of a Zombie Queen had begun...
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