Valkyrie Don’t Cry
CHAPTER FOUR* * *
It’s just theory until you test it.
«Let me run this by all of you. I think that these women are producing pheromones, and maybe something else. Something that is turning men into...into...well into lapdogs. I think that somewhere back there in that lizard brain part of the man’s brain something is screaming run, run just as far and as fast as you can away from this woman, but something else is telling him this will be the most pleasure he will ever feel.»
«The two...for want of a better term, instincts are diametrically opposed to each other. This creates a conflict in his brain. Run away...run toward her...run away...run toward her. He becomes the classic paranoid schizophrenic. The classic Janis, the two-faced god of chance. He becomes a nervous wreck...just like Max is acting.»
«I don’t think the nasal spray is working. I think it may even be exacerbating the condition and making it worse because he can’t just surrender and get it over with.» Fred explained.
“Well, what about us?” Eve questioned.
«I think as long as there isn’t a man involved they get along fine with each other, but there must be a ranking order that’s instinctive too. In normal women like you though it’s like the males. One part wants to fight her and one part wants to run away. In you women you just mainly want to kill them.» Fred laughed.
“Okay, how are we going to test this theory, Fred?” Jet asked the central question on everybody’s mind at the moment.
“I’ve taken care of that. First, we get Max out of here, he’s a total wreck after that session with the pilot. I’m still not sure who owns who in that mess. Yes, she’s bonded to him, but he’s far from being her Master as he is now. He’s going to take at least a week off at this Greek Cleansing Spa Retreat thing I discovered online. They claim to have techniques to, and I quote them, “detoxify anyone”. We’ll see if that restores him to his former masterful self. In the meantime, I have activated a formerly shutdown bioweapons lab. Admittedly a small one...” Jet interrupted Morgan.
“What happened that got it shut down?” Jet sneered.
“Believe it or not, it was a budget cut.” Morgan laughed.
“Why a bioweapons lab?” Paula wanted to know.
«Containment! Negative pressure containment for one thing.» Fred put in.
“We, me and Fred, are treating this like nerve gas now. We have co-opted two teams. The team for the nerve gas formerly worked at the lab. The other team is doctors that are going to study their brains and find out what’s different. What they put in there. Once again the teams we put together are women.” Morgan laughed
“Is that supposed to surprise us, Morgan?” Even Nurse Nancy, who was still happily married, had to say and laugh at the other girls reactions.
We had kept the two teams as small as we could. Two to study the gas, two to study the brain’s structural changes. Doctor July Jones was explaining the chemical-identifying sensors, developed by USC, to Morgan. The sensors were small arisol cans that sprayed one shot of a white colored fine mist into the air. According to her, the chemical agents in the little white cloud would fluoresce in different colors and brightnesses to indicate which nerve agents were present in the air, and in what concentrations. We had soon isolated the pheromones and other agents the girls were producing and were studying them now.
Our other team of doctors had already scanned their brains with CT, MRI, and other things, and created a high-resolution 3D representation of the brains we were studying. We would be comparing them to normal brains. They had also recorded the brain’s reaction and mental activity to different stimuli, like other women and men, that we were primarily interested in. Now, all we had to do was find a way to neutralize those agents and reverse the damage to Max’s brain.
“Hopefully the agent your Max was exposed to has left his system by now. I would imagine that he is very confused and disoriented about now. I have the name of a good counselor that can work with him if he has any dependency problems after this.” Doctor Jones offered.
“Is she female?” Nina snorted.
“Me and Doctor Collins have found that there are two agents involved. The Primary agent attaches itself to this part of the brain here on the chart. The Secondary agent attaches itself here and here. We figure that your Max wasn’t exposed long enough to permanently create a dependency on her pheromones. Of course, we have not determined how much time it would actually take at this point either. We would need more male samples to be absolutely sure. From our limited sample...” Doctor Collins interrupted.
“We had to draft them off the street, ha, ha.” Doctor Helen Collins laughed.
“Males became submissive, but fully aroused.” Doctor Jones finished.
“They followed any order and were virtually inexhaustible.” Collins sighed.
“And females,” Morgan asked.
“The same thing, but opposite reaction, aggression coupled with arousal and the need to grab the best available man and breed.” Collins put in.
“And how did you determine that?” Nina asked intrigued by their response.
“Well, I found it that way, anyway. We were limited in volunteers we could call on.” She laughed and had the decency to blush prettily.
“We had already determined that it was nonlethal.” Jones defended their decission.
“So you can reproduce these pheromones?” Morgan asked.
“Well no, but we have a room full of girls that are literally sweating them and we just collected some and refined it a little.” Doctor Jones admitted seeming proud of herself.
“How do we immunize Max Doctor.” Nina wanted to know.
“I’m not sure we can, but I don’t think he’ll have any problem with the new girls after this. The nose spray was the real culprit here. The combination of the pheromones and the super steroids set up a toxic reaction, he was literally out of his mind from the drug interaction. If he had kept it up it could have resulted in severe brain damage. He could still have the olfactory nerve severed if he really thinks it’s necessary, but I would bet he likes it after he tries it. He just has to remember he is the dominant one in the relationship. It only works on the males if it catches them off guard by surprise we found out.” Doctor Jones told all the girls.
“Where did you find that prison you sent me to Nina?” Max complained upon getting back.
“That was the best place we could find for drying out recovering alcoholics. Did it dry you out, Max.” Nina questioned.
“Oh yes! Oh Hell yes! Do you realize how many forms of massage there are. Then there are the natural mineral springs, and natural mineral mud baths, the steam baths, and oh let’s not forget the natural mineral water to drink. I must have some of the cleanest pores in the damn world thanks to you girls.” Max continued to complain.
“It’s been over a week are you ready to get back in the cage with the tiger Max,” Morgan asked the critical question.
“First you tell me what I did? After I started using that nose spray everything became hazy. I have some vivid nightmares, but very little actual memory of that time.” Max said.
“So are you ready for us to wake up Wanda and have you finish up your interrogation.” Nina broached the subject that was on all our minds.
“You were...we thought you were ready to go in and tame Wanda, our wicked witch, but you collapsed before you fully finished. We all knew it was the pheromones so we sent you to that glorified hell hole for recovering alcoholics. We have since verified that it was the reaction between the nose spray and pheromones that was the problem.” Morgan explained.
“I think I’m back to my old self. Let’s go see. This should be fun.” Max chuckled for some reason known only to himself.
“You are not my Master. Must kill not Master. Must kill. Must kill you all. You have no right to be here. Where is here? Why am I talking to you? Why have I not terminated myself? Must escape. Must find Master. No longer remember who Master is. What the Master looks like. What Master smells like. What Master tastes like. Must find Master...” Nothing had changed with Wanda, that’s what Max decided to call her.
Knowing the end of her routine Max stepped in.
“Pleasure Unit report!” Max said sharply.
“This is not Pleasure Unit, this is...” She tried to answer.
“Pleasure Unit report! Max said sharply again.
“This unit is malfunctioning Master.” She responded at last.
“You are now Pleasure Unit Wanda and I am your Master,” Max told her using what he hoped was a commanding voice.
“This Unit responds to Master’s reassignment. Unit Wanda awaits further programming Master.” She now stood at attention.
“Wanda what do you remember before I woke you up...” Max started, but Wanda flipped out again.
“Not Master...Not Master...must kill...” She started.
«Put her back to sleep...fast...faster...”» Max shouted on the link as Wanda tried to strangle him.
“Okay, we missed something there girls.” Max laughed after they removed Wanda’s now slack hands from around his neck.
“You have to lay her first. Take her in all three holes. We got that when we questioned Snow White a little more.” Nina told Max.
“Oh, I can see why I went psycho now girls. Well, reset her and let’s go again.” Max laughed.
And so she was re-awakened and the process started again, but this time when they got to...
“This Unit responds to Master’s reassignment. Unit Wanda awaits further programming Master.” She now stood at attention. Max responded.
“Assume the position, Wanda,” Max commanded, and Wanda assumed the dog position. Face on the floor, arms folded, and ass high in the air actually wagging.
“Ok, minions I can, well I think I can anyway, that I’m competent to handle the first hole, but what do I do about holes number 2, and 3.” Max laughingly inquired. It was former cheerleader Paula that came to our rescue.
“Well, first we need a good female lubricant to start off. Hey after my first time I tried to spare myself any more unnecessary pain Max. If your going to have to do it anyway, learn to do it right was my motto back then. Now the anus, that puckered hole back there can stretch to accommodate a penis and the alimentary canal doesn’t really mind the intrusion. Note though that the two different channels work totally differently. The alimentary canal is busy pushing everything out. On the other hand, the pussy is trying to pull it in. The pussy muscles can be trained to do tricks...” Morgan butted in.
“What kind of tricks Paula.” Morgan wanted to know.
“Take it up on your own time girls,” Max grumbled.
“...but I don’t think alimentary muscles can be trained.” Paula continued her lecture.
“Usually I would recommend a good enema to wash out the bowels before the act, it saves on everyone’s embarrassment I learned the hard way. You also need to insert a good butt plug at least 12 hours prior to the act to stretch the ring muscle, but I can see that everybody is impatient, ha, ha.” Paula laughed at our obvious embarrassment.
“Oh, by the way, you might want to try a little hypnosis. I know it works well to control pain during childbirth and delivery, maybe it could relax the ring muscle and control the pain. Hey, it’s worth a try.” Paula finished in her cute Texas twang.
“Should I hypnotize her before or after I fuck her?” Max pondered.
“You’re asking us?” Morgan responded.
“Not really. She’ll be more relaxed and receptive after a good fuck,” Max reasoned out loud.
All this time Wanda had continued to wait passively. Max’s investigation soon discovered that she was sopping wet down there and ready. More than ready really. He reminded himself that he needed to hydrate himself and her after this.
I don’t know what everybody was expecting, but I don’t think it was her passing out and falling over sideways onto the carpet at the end of Max’s first hole. I was monitoring her and she was Ok just passed out. Evidently, she had to internalize her new instructions.
Four hours later on the dot, she woke back up and I informed everyone it was time for the anal fuck. We had lubed her up and inserted a butt plug to help prepare her for Max. Max was going to try hypnosis on her now.
“This one designated Wanda awaits Master’s instructions.” Wanda voiced from her standing position.
“Wanda sit in the chair.” Max motioned to the chair Nina had placed beside Wanda. Wanda sat facing Max in his chair. Next Morgan pulled up another chair and placed a lit candle on it. Wanda didn’t seem to even notice, her eyes were glued to Max’s eyes. Maybe he had missed a bet not using them to hypnotize her instead of the candle.
«Can she hear us Fred.» Max asked.
«Not if I don’t want her to.» Fred answered back.
«Girls you can all watch, but you are not to participate. You are all to stay awake. Is that understood?» Max started off.
“Yes, Max.” Came back from all the gathered girls. Max was not comfortable with the situation, but had agreed to be open-minded about the new experience. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Paula hadn’t been the one to suggest she might be willing to try it again with Max and hypnosis. She seemed to remember this one time she had done it, and liked it almost as much as the first time she had sex with Frank Jones in the back seat of his father’s car after her junior high graduation prom.
“I seem to remember it.” she stated with positive conviction in her distinctive Texas drawl. I’ve created a monster Max grumbled to himself.
“Wanda I want you to look at the candle flame.” Max started by holding the candle in front of her to get her attention. When he was sure he had her attention he placed it back on the chair. At that point, he began the script he had studied on a web site called literotica.com.
“Watch the flame Wanda as it flickers and dances before you. Let it pull you into the center. Become one with the flame.” Max droned.
“Your eyelids are heavy...your eyes are so tired...closing over your tired eyes...you don’t want to fight it Wanda...just sink deeper and deeper.” Max droned on and on.
Finally, she was asleep and most of the other girls were still awake. Well not sound asleep this time anyway.
«Wake up the girl next to you and we’ll continue.» Max laughed at Paula.
“Wanda assume the position.” Max started off as Wanda assumed the dog position at Max’s feet again.
“Wanda do you know what I have to do next,” Max asked.
“Take my second hole Master,” she answered simply.
“Are you ok with that Wanda,” Max asked.
“This unit has no choice Master.” She answered.
“Wanda I want you to enjoy this. I want you to remember this with pleasure whenever you think back on it. Can you do that for me, Wanda.” Max instructed her.
“Yes Master, Wanda will always think of it with pleasure.” She stated and looked like she smiled.
“I’m going to start preparing your hole now. I’m going to rub in some lotion now. It’s going to be warm and pleasant and smell of coconuts. From now on anytime you smell this you will remember this and the pleasure you recieved.” Max instructed.
Using first one finger to start, he was finally able to work in two fingers.
“Relax your muscles, Wanda, think only of pleasure.” Max directed her.
Finally, he was able to get two opposing fingers in it to stretch the ring of muscle apart. Judging her to be ready Max gave her some last instructions and prepared himself to thrust into her when he felt other hands on his exposed manhood and found Paula on one side and Nancy on the other applying more lube. Max looked at them questionably?
“We thought we’d help Master”. They both laughed.
“Oh, it’s Master now?” Max laughed.
“I guess it always was Master.” They both giggled as they played with Max’s stiff cock.
“As I push in Wanda you’ll feel nothing but pleasure. The pleasure that you deserve. The pleasure that you will always deserve.” Max was about to thrust when both Paula and Nancy squeezed his cock stopping him.
“AND!??” Max demanded.
“You have not once told her that she’s your Goddess. Not once!” Paula and Nancy accused Max.
“Do you think it’ll make any difference to her in this condition,” Max questioned.
“We know it did with us and she’s going to be a sister so do it right Max,” Paula told him. So Max did his instructions over including the My Goddess part.” Maybe they were right. Maybe there was a Goddess in there just waiting to come out. He could hope.
Once again when Max shot his load into her she passed out. This time the girls covered her with a blanket. As we all waited former corporal Fay Fry announced that she had found the answer to Max’s quandary. She showed us a picture of a ring gag rig and even had a video of it in use.
She doesn’t look like she’s enjoying it everybody commented. Well, it did come from a web site that advertised itself as “Torture in the Dungeon”. Max decided to take it on faith that I could keep her from biting off his hangee down part this time.
This time when she woke up you could tell Max owned her body and soul. Max put her in a light trance and calling her his Goddess, and recited the script about receiving pleasure from giving. He also surprised all of us too.
“Wanda, when you were a little girl you liked pudding with your supper didn’t you?” Max asked.
“Yes,” she mumbled around his cock.
“What was your most favorite flavor, Wanda? Max asked.
“Banana pudding.” She finally paused in her work to answer.
“When I cum in your mouth it will taste just like Banana pudding, it will always taste like Banana pudding from now on. You will always enjoy the taste and want more. You will never get enough.” Max finished, as she resumed her ministrations to his cock.
“And where did you get that one?” Fay wanted to know.
“While you were all busy studying rape and torture I was reading up on hypnosis and the finer points of mind control on literotica.com, and mcstories.com, or the Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive on the Internet, ha, ha.” Max shot back.
“Besides that, don’t you think that was kind of cruel. If I’m right you Mister...Master Smarty Pants just created an addiction in her for your cum. She will always want it and never get enough, and you don’t even like blow jobs. Am I right girls.” Morgan asked the others.
“Hey, that’s right he refuses every time I offer. Wow, that line, “you will always enjoy the taste and want more. You will never get enough.”, is really going to screw up her head Max.” Sharon put in.
“So I’ll remove it already.” Max conceded defeat.
“Wait and see how it works out. She’s not one of us yet. This gives Max a hold on her. Something she has to have and a reason to stay close to Max, but you better not try addicting me to your sperm, Master or no Master, Max.” Morgan let everybody know how she felt about it.
Under Hypnosis she remembered her name was Jean Short, she was 16 and lived with her family in Nebraska. The last thing she remembered was waking to the bus stop to go to school. We checked it out and found that indeed a Jean Short was missing from Nebraska, an Amber Alert had even been issued on a Jean Short six months ago. The only problem was that not even the fingerprints matched the girl we had with us now.
The picture on the flier was not our girl. Ours was also taller, weighed more, and was a natural redhead. At first, Max and the others wanted to argue that somebody in the police department had deliberately substituted the wrong information for a bribe. I certainly couldn’t rule that out going by Max’s past experiences with law enforcement, but I found it more likely that the girl’s appearance had been changed. After all, I can do the same thing. I also pointed out that except for minor differences these 11 girls were almost identical to each other. Something the other girls hadn’t noticed before.
«But the fingerprints are harder to change. I would suggest that somebody in the FBI or Justice Department has indeed substituted fake prints.» Fred offered.
“Well, what do we do with Snow White and the others.” Lieutenant Pat wanted to know.
«As you’ve probably all surmised by now, I have grown an identical copy of ME in each of you. To a certain extent, I represent a point singularity existing in all 10 dimensions of time and space. This allows me to communicate with all of you, and through me, you can communicate with each other. You are 4 dimensional, I’m a 5th-dimensional being. All of the 11 new girls have a copy of me now too. I can maintain them in this coma-like state, or put them in a state your scientist are calling suspended animation.» Fred informed us.
“You can’t just leave them like that, it ain’t human,” Haley argued.
«I agree with you, Haley. If they stay like this we are going to need to set up a coma trauma ward to take care of their needs. Are you ready for that.» Fred addressed us all.
“We can’t do that.” Max, Nina, and Morgan voiced at the same time.
«Then you have to wake them or store them. You need to do that now.» Fred said.
After much discussion, Max agreed to do the last ten just like he did Wanda. Even the line, “you will always enjoy the taste and want more. You will never get enough.” He probably couldn’t have done it without me to remove the fatigue poisons from his blood and supplying him with something better than Viagra to keep it hard. At an average of one hour and thirty minutes for each girl and periodic rest breaks, it took him a little under a full day to do all of them. At the end of that time, he literally crashed and burned, and was carried to bed by Paula and former corporal Nancy McDonnell, who was still Paula’s lover.
While Max was sleeping it off, me and the girls got busy on Snow White and the others. For whatever reason the other girls were blank. Who, what, when, and where were gone, just not there. Their fingerprints did not match any of the missing girls posted online. We even tried the new ancestry DNA tissue matching data banks that had popped up in recent years, all without much luck. True there were some close matches, but that didn’t count with DNA. I’m afraid we’ll never know who they actually are.
The first thing we did was dress all of them in cheerleader uniforms, mainly because Nina had closets full of them along with her school girl costumes that she only occasionally wore now. Next, we named them. Following the convention Max seems to have established we chose Fairy Tale Princess names for them, starting with Snow White.
Sweet Eve had read this 2011 novel written by Heather Dixon, based on “The Twelve Dancing Princesses”. There was Azaela Kathryn, Bramble, Clover, Delphinium, Evening Primrose (Eve), Flora, Goldenrod, Hollyhock (Holli), Ivy, Jessamine, Kale, and Lily Wentworth. We took the first nine and saved the last three, Jessamine, Kale and Lily for later.
We soon established that they spoke English, Russian, French, Chinese, and Japanese. Could do higher math in their head without the use of a pocket calculator. Could recite the Periodic Table, knew chemistry, and biology, but had no idea where they were or the date. In fact, they didn’t know any Earth history, or any unearthly history either for that matter. Oh, and they knew some astronomy too, but only to navigate and find the north star.
I assured everyone that they were fine, it was just empty up there, and no the EPM had hardly affected them at all. Wanda, on the other hand, had deep scaring where I had regrown the different tissues the EMP had literally burned out around the electrodes placed in her brain. And yes there had been a kill switch built in to stop the heart remotely, or when a list of criterion was met. It too was luckily burned out.
Two weeks had passed and Morgan was busy monitoring all the spook chatter she could. In theory, the FBI, Justice, Homeland Security, are only allowed to work in country. NSA, CIA, DIA, all the other alphabet agencies are outside, or at least borderline. That’s all that it is though, just theory. All of them have their plausible deniability assets, their black sites, and freelance contractors they pay and keep in contact with. The only thing any of them feared is the IRS stumbling over some of their slush funds. So far nobody had mentioned anything about CAT in any of the interagency chatrooms.
Our ten Princesses and Wanda were still producing their pheromones and driving anybody and everybody around them crazy. I was still working on turning them off, and Max was busy trying to socialize them. Wanda was the only one that would wear clothes. Morgan suggested that he hypnotize all of them and have them watch continuous reruns of the TV Show 90210 for a week on YouTube, that would teach them everything they needed to know about our society and give them a fashion sense, ha, ha. The rest of Max’s girls, thank God, considered it “Cruel and Unusual Punishment”.
In the end, I found the turnoff switch and turned the pheromones off. Things went back to normal, well close to normal anyway. The Princesses continued to follow Max around like a pack of puppies in heat, I hate to apply the bitch term with Morgan being around, rubbing up to him at any opportunity, to the disgust of all the other girls.
Morgan and company had taken everything we had gotten from the plane apart and it was all too badly damaged to make it work. A four-foot cube made of a nonmetallic something had once contained layer upon layer of once shiny platters made out of another nonmetallic something. Now it was just useless scrap, blackened, warped, and buckled from too much electrical energy overloading it. It had been plugged into Wanda at the time the EMP struck. We all agreed it was a miracle that Wanda had been able to land the plane at all.
There was no tight beam microwave transmitter, no collimated laser, and the windshield was polarized not to let light out. The plane itself was pressurized and could lift 32,000 pounds or 70 girls strapped into their portable transports. We still didn’t know the why of the space suit either. True the pheromones affected males and females alike, but not that bad, not after you got used to them. True the Martin JRM-4a Mars upgraded amphibious flying boat, with its four turbo propped jet engines, using the new four-bladed props with reversible pitch, and very advanced stealth technology. Hell, you could have called it a whisper jet, ha, ha, but that didn’t explain why radar couldn’t see it. All the mystery was in what had been in that four-foot cube of charred not-metal.
Finally, Morgan caught a break. A group of CDC investigators, of all things, just outside Marietta, Georgia were making discreet inquiries about the loss of a Martin JRM-4a Mars in the Internet chatrooms. They were asking if anyone had spotted any wreckage of one on the West Coast. The giveaway was they posted a $10,000.00 dollar reward for information, and placed the center of their search area as Yuma, Arizona, and gave it a range of 5,000 miles. They were asking for the help of all the amateur ham radio operators and lite and ultra lite aircraft nuts out there. They had finally become desperate enough to break cover. Morgan now had her Great White Whale, her Moby Dick to harpoon at last.
Discreet, very discreet, inquires to her informants and agency contacts led her finally to the UFO nuts, Operation Blue Book stuff. These were the people that investigated UFO sightings now she was informed. Officially no UFO’s had been found all her contacts affirmed. True Area 51 existed, but there were no UFOs in there.
“Methinks they doth protest too much,” Morgan told us later over Banana pudding, which had become very popular all of a sudden.
“Oh, Oh, we wax poetic now, Shakespeare and Hamlet if I remember rightly.” Nina laughed.
“Hamlet no less, with all the witches,” Max added.
“Large airplane, a large pressurized airplane I might add. A plane that can evade all our Radar and other detection systems. I rechecked they were never detected by any of our early warning systems. What does Wanda remember of her flights Max.” Morgan asked.
“She remembers taking off from the island with her cargo. Climbing to her maximum altitude and then it’s a blank until she wakes up descending to that strip in Arizona. Her cargo is gone most of the time when she wakes up. She can also remember a few times that she brought back large boxes and strange looking men in what seemed to be raincoats, hats, and sunglasses.” Max related.
“Double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble, something wicked this way comes.” Morgan ad-libbed Shakespeare again.
“Let me guess where this is going. You think that there are UFOs. They, whoever they are, have a large spaceship up there and we are providing them with a large number of fertile underage females. Evidently, we get something in return.” Nina conjectured.
“How do we know they aren’t leaving the solar system?” Max wanted to know.
“Time element,” Morgan answered.
“Ok, I’ll bite, how did you establish that?
“Engine maintenance log. When they re-engined the plane they, put in an electronic maintenance log system. That system logs everything, even how long the engine is off. We can assume the long times the engine was off was when they were at their base in Arizona waiting. The other shorter times were when they were picking up girls at the island, and these other short ones that are left are the delivery of them to the ship up there.” Morgan reasoned.
“Makes sense to me Morgan.” Max conceded the point.
“And none of this is seen on our radar Morgan,” Nina asked.
“Oh, the UFO people say that they could prove it if we would give them an even break, but everybody just laughs at them and labels them conspiracy nuts. I did too until this myself, ha, ha.” Morgan laughed at herself.
“So what is your plan, Morgan,” Nina asked.
“First I assumed from the beginning that this Martin JRM-4a Mars upgraded amphibious flying boat, with their four turbo propped jet engines, using the new four-bladed props with reversible pitch, and very advanced stealth technology was a very rare bird indeed. They had also reworked the wing edges and the trailing flaps, and done them like on the C-130’s which made it even rarer.”
“In fact, I figured there was only a handful made, and I was right, seven were commissioned for the Philippines and the Virgin Islands. I located them all and traced them back to hangers in the Virgin Islands. I had my freelance agents in the Islands to plant a more sophisticated package, that Jet made up, onboard the six remaining planes.
This package is bigger, has more memory, mikes, and multi-spectrum cameras, and even a very nasty surprise if necessary. Once a week they emit a short microburst of energy that contains everything they have done or seen that week. The bug is inside the ship this time, glued to a wall with a camouflaged antenna glued on the outside. So far only one plane has moved, that was yesterday according to my agents. We should have some pictures and information shortly, because it’s been seen at the island of San Yeque, by our agent Consuelo Rameras whom you have yet to formally induct into our merry band of outlaws by-the- way Max.” Morgan reminded our fearless leader.
«Yes, she’s waiting for you, Max.» Fred affirmed.
It’s confirmed. There is a huge saucer-shaped disk up there clocked to human eyes. The new plane (spaceship?) was manned (girled?) by another space suited figure. After sixty girl carriers were loaded and the plane sealed up, we watched her take the plane almost straight up and finally pass out we assumed. At that point something seemed to violently grab the plane and shake it like a dog does a bone, then once again the plane started to ascend. This seemed like hours but was only minutes actually. It was soon outside the atmosphere and still moving away from Earth. Finally, it passed through a force field or something because there right in front of us was this giant flying saucer. Something like what is portrayed in those wild Hollywood movies your always seeing on TV. We literally flew right into it and was suddenly stopped dead in our tracks.
“It was a good thing everybody was strapped in.” Max mutter to Nina.
“I wonder how fast it was travailing?” She asked him.
The things that, we all agreed, shambled around the plane to unload the cargo were vaguely human. After watching all these Apocalyptic TV shows like the Walking Dead, the Last Man On Earth (1964), Omega Man (1971), and the ever-popular Resident Evil series. I think we can all agree that these things on the flying saucer fit that description pretty well. Even the one directing it all was a sorry mess of bones and ugly blue bruises.
“What I find funny is the principle of the walking dead, zombie, vampire whatever you want to call it. This thing that needs blood to survive, and can go through the whole town population over night, but still be waiting around years later for a new blood source to show up. “YOU” to show up. I personally liked the Killer Shrews (1959) myself. If you kill and eat everything in sight and you can’t get off the island your going to starve to death. A simple case of “supply and demand”.” Max stated what seemed obvious to him to the girls.
“I guess you’re assuming that those things are the dominant life form here?” Morgan asked the group.
“Well isn’t it? Paula demanded.
“What if it’s that BOX, that four-foot cube. What if that’s what is running this show. What if that’s your vaulted Artificial Intelligence, what some are calling the next step in evolution.” Morgan laughed at our discomfort.
“Are you saying that Wanda was its arms and legs Morgan, That she’s it’s...it’s...what?...it’s mobile unit?” Max questioned.
«It would certainly explain how they got to the space ship. That’s what evaded our radar and Early Warning Systems, and your tractor beam that took us up there Scotty. That BOX is the big show.» Fred put in.
“Well if that is the boss he doesn’t treat his employees very well.” Sweet Eve pointed out.
«We don’t know enough to make a statement like that Eve. For all we know he might be helping them.» Fred pointed out to all of us.
“You mean the Cube could be a good guy Fred,” Sweet Eve questioned.
«Yes,» Fred answered her.
So now we wait and watch and gather more information on these Walking Dead and the Cube as Eve so aptly named it.
The Package Jet had built this time used a C4 type of putty-like explosive. It’s highly stable until it gets the kick from the detonator. You can lite it up and roast your weenies over it without getting blown up it’s so stable. Jet had molded a five-inch circular piece, a quarter inch thick of it the same color as the plane’s interior and included a steel plate to shape the force of the explosion outward.
Though it would not be very effective in the atmosphere, in the vacuum of space it would be disastrous to the human crew, but the real question was how effective would it be against a Cube. My guess, based upon what I had seen of his brother’s burnt and twisted remains out there in the desert, was it wouldn’t affect him at all. It might not affect him, but it could provide a moment’s distraction at a critical moment I reminded myself.
“Now that we know about the Cube what do we do about it,” Nina grumbled as we sat watching the lastest home movies from the last Mars flight out to the Saucer. So far we had lost another 60 girls, bring our grand total to 180 that we knew about.
“I’m open to suggestions Nina. Every time that Mars takes off we lose another 60 underage girls. I know in the grand scheme of things that’s a drop in the bucket, but it hurts not to do something. We’re hesitating because our own government is dealing with them.” Max explained his hesitation.
“The big question is; is the government acting in it’s best interest or our best interest,” Paula asked for the other girls present.
“I don’t care what any of you say nobody should be mind-wiped and sold like this. It’s wrong and goes against everything I believe in.” Eve voiced what we all wanted to say.
“What if they were drug overdose victims, people that had continually abused the System and been saved. What if this was their third time Eve. Could you mind wipe them and give them a brand new life. A happy new carefree productive life. Would that be s wrong Eve, because I see so many of them die that way and think it’s such a waste.” Doctor Stacy James, just plain old Doc to all of us now, asked Eve.
“It’s still your body and you should have the right to make your own decisions about it Doc.” Eve stubbornly refused to back down from Doc.
“What if they voluntarily gave up their body for money, or a car, or something like that Eve. Could you go along with what they’re doing right now today Eve.” Doc asked Eve again.
“A person’s body is sacred and should never be sold Doc.” Eve insisted.
“You don’t think you have the absolute right to sell your own body Eve.” Doc continued to push Eve around.
“No, I don’t,” Eve concluded.
“So our little world is divided into those that do, and those that don’t believe that you can dispose of your own body before death that is.” Doc laughed.
“You wouldn’t happen to be Jewish would you Eve.” Doc innocently asked Eve.
“Well no, I’m Southern Baptist,” Eve responded.
“Believe in Jesus, and Heaven, and Hell?” She asked.
“Of course. Doesn’t everyone?” Eve responded.
“No Eve everyone doesn’t. First, the Jew believes in the Old Testament of your Bible, not the New. To them Jesus hasn’t come yet to gather and take all the souls to his Father’s (God’s) house, that’s a prophecy to be fulfilled. Two, most of the Bible suggests that physical death is the end of life. Three, the more pessimistic books of the Bible, such as Ecclesiastics and Job, insist that all of the dead go down to Sheol, whether good or evil, rich or poor, slave or free man (Job 3:11-19). Of note here Eve, the Bible believes in slavery. Sheol is described as a region “dark and deep”, “the Pit”, and “the Land of Forgetfulness”, a place that the souls of human beings descend to after death. Well until they are prayed out of Sheol by the living anyway (cf. Numbers 30, 33). This description gave rise to the Christian concept of Hell. A Soul can be reincarnated many times Eve. Maybe the souls of these girls want to move on Eve.” Doc preached at Eve.
“You’re just making fun of me Doc everybody knows that suicide is a mortal sin and you’ll go straight to Hell for doing it, and burn in the fires of damnation for forever and ever.” Sweet Eve sincerely told Doc.
“Your right Eve, it was cruel of me to test your faith that way. Nobody should sell his life or her life away like that, and we don’t allow slavery anymore no matter how pleasant it is.” Doc chuckled.
“Right Doc.” Sweet Eve agreed, at peace with her world again.