WACO’S LUMMOX
Waddie
Greywolf
Chapter 48
"When you make the two into one, and when you make the inner
like the outer and the outer like the inner, and the upper
like the lower, and when you make male and female into a
single one, so that the male will not be male nor the female
be female, when you make eyes in place of an eye, a hand in
place of a hand, a foot in place of a foot, an image in place
of an image, then you will recognize the kingdom." ~ Words
attributed to Christ from the Gospel According To Thomas.
Brett Jones and Basil Troubadour shared a suite with Commander
Hawkins and his companion of choice for the evening, young Sam
Stamper who just graduated high school and turned eighteen. The
Stamper boys became avid body builders and Sam was one of their
most devoted. They worked out under the tutelage of Bill Birdsall
and Shane for several years and Sam progressed well past the
intermediate stage. When he was dressed in his Western clothes,
Sam was stunningly good looking. He might be compared with the
winning home run in the bottom of the ninth with the bases loaded
and the score tied. Sam was certainly impressive enough to catch
the eye of anyone, but Hawkins met Sam on a previous trip to the
colonies. Sam was learning to become a captain of his own shuttle
craft and was flying copilot on Hawkins’ first trip to Mars under
the watchful eyes of his two older brothers, Burt and Phil. Sam
seemed to be a natural pilot and was learning faster than either
of his brothers. Sam was previously seeing one of Hoot and
Cotton's cowboy slaves, but they amicably decided to go their
separate ways.
Del Hawkins liked the young man and was drawn to his presence for
his easy nature and his seemingly unending graciousness. Sam’s
charms were seductive without trying. Of all the Stamper boys, Sam
evolved into what one might call a natural man. Along with his
charm he exuded a masculine strength and easy determination that
was palpable. The Goodnight cowboys readily accepted the Stamper
men as part of their extended family, but Lucas was convinced Sam
was completely devoid of any hypocrisy or deceit. Lucas shared
with his brothers if there was ever an archetype model for a
cowboy he would have to nominate Sam Stamper. Nothing ever seemed
to bother Sam, and he became a balm for Commander Del Hawkin’s
sometimes troubled soul. The commander seemed to really enjoy the
younger man’s company. He became a changed man when he was with
Sam. Without any agendas or pretenses, Sam brought his
considerable comfort to Officer Delbert Hawkin’s bed. Hawkins was
heard to remark: Sam is an easy man to love and a hard man to
forget.
* * * * * * *
Every door Brett and Basil opened was a new and exciting
experience. With Basil’s youth and Brett Jones’ maturity they met
a middle ground and shared the wonder. Basil was absorbed by the
strange, alien decor of the lodge. “How very Forbidden Planet,” he
tossed off, after seeing the main room of the suite complete with
pool and waterfall with various plants placed about for accent. It
struck Sam, Hawkins, and Jones as funny.
“Your observation seems fitting, Basil,” Officer Hawkins said,
“after all, it was built by a race called the Krell.”
“No! You’re kidding,” Basil replied.
“Not at all. Check with one of the androids. They’ll confirm it,”
Hawkins assured him.
“No! That won’t be necessary. If Brett say’s it’s true, I’m
satisfied,” Basil smiled.
“It’s true. I overheard Admiral Long telling some folks. He said
something about art becoming life or life as a reflection of art;
something like that,” Jones confirmed.
“I certainly hope we don’t encounter a monster from the id during
the night,” Basil grinned. The commander raised an eyebrow and
smiled. Basil’s remark was pitched too easily. Hawkins could’ve
knocked it out of the ballpark with little effort, but he didn’t
say a word. He could tell a setup when he heard one. They went to
their separate rooms and closed the doors behind them. It crossed
Brett Jones’ mind how much he enjoyed the day with Basil. He
thought it might be nice to experience something closer, but he
was cautious. He was concerned his change wasn’t fully stabilized,
and he didn’t know how it might translate to physical intimacy. He
decided it might be better to err on the side of caution, yet he
thought he probably should discuss it with his date. Jones never
felt comfortable with interpersonal relationships. He never really
had any other than his friendships in the guard and an occasional
romp in the sack with the Holy Prophet. Brett found it difficult
to judge Basil's expectations, if any. “I’ve enjoyed the day with
you Basil,” he started cautiously.
“Same here, Brett. It’s been a wonderful day. Shall we call it a
day, an evening, and get an early start tomorrow morning. We’ve
been invited to go along with the men to see more wonders of the
caves,” Basil suggested.
“Probably, but I think I would like to enjoy a little more of the
hot water for a while. How ‘bout you?" Jones invited.
“That would be fine. It makes me sleep soundly after soaking for a
while,” Basil agreed.
They removed their clothing and slowly eased themselves into the
pool within their quarters. Basil didn’t sit close to Jones and
there was an awkward silence between them for a few minutes. Jones
broke their silence. “I forgot to add, I’d also like to hold you
close while we enjoy the water,” he smiled. Basil grinned and
moved next to him. Jones dropped his big arm around the younger
man’s shoulder and pulled him close. “There, that’s better,” Jones
said quietly. Basil smiled. Jones continued, “I’m afraid I’m
somewhat socially retarded or slow when it comes to one on one
relationships. My commander tells me it’s because I grew up being
told what to do, and I never had to take much initiative or
responsibility for myself or my actions. I never had to relate to
others as close friends or intimates. I just did as I was told,
stayed to myself, and kept my mouth shut. I made a few friends but
no one really close. Commander Hawkins is probably the closest
male companion I ever had, and he makes great allowances for my
clumsy attempts at friendship. What I’m trying to say is, I ain’t
real sure I know where to go from here,” Brett tried his best, but
he wasn't sure it was good enough.
“Uh, I’m not sure I understand. Are you suggesting I lead the way
between us?” Basil asked.
“No, not at all. On the contrary, for once in my life I’d like to
lead the way. I want to be in charge, but I’m unsure of myself for
a couple of reasons. I could be wrong, but I get the feeling you
might like someone who is a take charge kind of guy. Am I wrong?
Maybe if you could give me a couple of insights about your
feelings, it might help,” Jones wondered if he was digging a hole
for himself.
“My feelings are open to new experiences but guarded. You have to
take into consideration what I’ve been through to fully understand
where I’m coming from. I won’t bore you with the minutia or the
lurid details of my suffering; it’s enough to tell you it was
horrible beyond belief. Some of the things which happened to me
were so awful, if I told you, you’d probability think I was lying.
All you really need to know is I lost all faith in everything as I
lay dying in a Cheney camp. I knew I was dying and there was no
one who could or would do a damn thing about it. I couldn’t even
save myself. I gave up all hope. I no longer trusted anything or
anyone; not even myself. The nearer to death I came, it became
clear to me I had no choice in the matter. I had to accept the
fact I was going to die, but I also realized it wasn’t my fault.
Not only did I have to accept it, I had to forgive myself for not
being able to do anything about it before I could let go.
"Once I forgave myself, made peace with my soul and resigned
myself to my situation, I was ready to die. I felt my
consciousness, the part of me that is me, my soul, my person, my
identity slipping away, I lost all fear of death. It wasn’t scary
at all. Actually, it was rather pleasant. I became very light and
felt like I was only moments away from lifting from my body when a
faint voice came to me and told me to hang on. It told me not to
let go of my last vestige of hope; what I knew about love from
childhood; the spark of love from another life that gave me life;
that which I was given at my beginning; not to let it become
overwhelmed by darkness or the soul choking apathy around me; to
grasp it firmly with both hands of my heart and hold on tight. The
voice told me I hadn’t failed. This world was not good enough for
me.
"The voice told me to believe in it, and it would take me to a
better place where I would survive, thrive, and flourish. It was
the hardest thing I ever did in my life. I wanted so desperately
to let go, but it made me promise. Suddenly, I was surrounded by a
great white light and I thought, ‘This is it. I'm dying. I’m
crossing over into another realm of consciousness,’” Basil
chuckled, “Well, you gotta’ admit, these folks are a whole ‘nother
realm of consciousness. If that wasn’t enough, as I've mentioned
before, the state of Texas, itself, is guaranteed to do a quick
knee-jerk to the groin and suspend anyone’s reality,” the men
shared a laugh. He continued, “I was afraid to open my eyes until
I heard the voice say to me, ‘It’s all right. You are with us.
You’re safe now. We will take care of you, Basil.’ I opened my
eyes to look into the eyes of the biggest, best looking cowboy I
ever saw with a monster looking over his shoulder with tears in
his eyes.
"I wondered if God was the cowboy or the monster behind him. It
didn’t really matter. They were both beautiful to behold,” Basil
laughed, “I was on board the Buttercup with Captain Waco and his
wonderful slave, Ox,” Basil finished and paused for a moment, then
continued, “I won’t deny I’m taken with you, Officer Jones, and
your attention to me, but I have only eighteen years experience in
life. The majority of my life has been shit until I was rescued
and brought to the colonies. I’d like to think I’ve been through
so much I’m mature enough I don’t necessarily expect every
situation to work out like I might imagine, but I will never let
go of the spark of childlike hope I hold onto which has become my
engine of courage. You spoke of enjoying being the aggressor and
wanting to be in charge, so I’ll gladly give you room for that
consideration.
"You’re right, I think I’d rather prefer that in a partner. I
would like to believe there is someone firm, yet gentle and
understanding in whom I can put my trust. If you’re concerned
about something physical between us, I’ll leave it up to you. I’m
certainly willing to entertain the idea, but it’s not necessary.
Just the chance to have a vacation away from the day to day
quotidian life in the colonies, to visit this wonderful place with
someone whose company I enjoy is enough for me. Besides, Officer
Jones, I make it a rule never to go all the way with anyone on the
first date. I try to maintain a modicum of decorum even when I’m
with someone as attractive as yourself,” Basil laughed and batted
his eyes at Brett in an exaggerated manner to lighten the mood.
Jones grinned and tickled him. Basil jumped and laughed.
“Thanks for your honesty and sharing a bit of your history with
me. That gives me something to respond to and something to look
forward to. You see, I’m not so socially well trained or
considerate. I want to warn you, I make stupid, clumsy mistakes,
choices based on feelings rather than reason which sometime
embarrasses me. I feel like I’m a child who’s just beginning to
learn how to walk. I do a lot of stumbling and falling, but I pick
myself up and try again. I probably would’ve tried to talk you
into something for which you might not be ready. Then again, I was
afraid if I didn’t make an attempt to go all the way with you this
evening you might get the wrong idea I just don’t care, that I
ain’t interested. Trust me, you wouldn’t be sitting this close if
I wasn’t interested. On the other hand, I have concerns my body
ain’t completely through changing yet, and I don’t think I’d be
comfortable with physical intimacy with anyone until I’m more sure
of myself. My concerns ain’t just about me, they’re about you as a
potential partner. I just don’t know how it might work out. That’s
one of the reasons Jesse and Admiral Long wanted me to have more
time away from the Holy City. They tell me I must keep my change
hidden and secret from the Holy Prophet and his staff.”
“I certainly would listen to them and heed their advice, Brett.
They’re wise men. I have full faith in them, and for someone like
me to confirm it, should bear some weight. I can understand their
concerns, but as long as we have an open dialogue with each other,
I don’t foresee a problem. I’m enjoying this, just being here with
you. I probably would enjoy a little affection in the form of a
nice kiss or two,” Basil laughed.
“That was my next subject,” Brett smiled as they shared a laugh
and a kiss.
Brett took Basil into his arms in an embrace. Basil raised his
hand and placed it on one of Jones’ enormous pectoral muscles and
slowly felt it like it was a precious object. He couldn’t remember
how many times during their trip to the savanna he wanted to reach
out and touch the twin peaks of Mons St. Jones. Basil imagined
himself as a small, fey, delicate Deborah Kerr to Brett Jones’
Stewart Granger, hyper-masculine alpha-male, aloof, sweaty,
guttural, pompously dismissive misogynist, Allen Quartermain in
the 1950's version of “King Solomon’s Mines” looking up at the
massive, snow covered peak of Mount Kilimanjaro yearning deeply to
be a part of it all, longing to follow Jones’ treasure trail down,
down, down into the dark recesses of his pubic jungle to mine his
masculine jewels as the music of Rachmaninoff’s Adagio Sostenuto
from his second piano concerto in C minor Opus 18 swells in the
background.
Ah, yes, romantic pay-dirt at its finest; a quartet of Basil’s
favorite things, a mouthful of hot alpha-mancock, channeling
Thomas Mann, Rock-ma-knee-noff, and, perhaps, the greatest rock
song ever, Katmandu. ‘Cool, but not profound,’ he thought, ‘then
again, neither were most of his attempts at Joyce. Just another
form of glossolalia nonsense for the would-be intellectual set; a
prized pig sans wings, puns on puns, buns on Rapunzel, with better
makeup and heavier lipstick packaged as art. Be it
rolling-on-the-floor from fundamental religiosity or the esoteric
pomposity of Finnigan, quirks and quarks, mesas and bosons, mesons
and bisons, Bigalows and buffaloes, particles and pratfalls, all
part of the sub-atomic psychedelic zoo of life loomed large on his
mental horizon, smelled as bad, and were piled as high as any
other brain fart or steaming meadow muffin which every pragmatic
sojourner seeking the wholly-grail of personal bliss must step
over on his journey through life to discover for himself something
that resembles sanity; something that resembles peace. ‘Not as
easy a task as it might seem,’ Basil mused to himself.
Hell, with his art Basil launched a few swine into orbit to become
firmly fixed stars in the firmament. Basil was convinced, art
wasn’t about content so much as it was about packaging;
unfortunately, an esoteric pig by any name is still just an
overdressed oinker. Not so with Brett Jones. Big ears and all,
Jones was the real thing. If Jones was a pig, Basil wanted to
share his wallow. There was just something about the big man that
spun the propeller on Basil’s Beany. Jones made the young man’s
asshole pucker then lose its tensile calling as his brain slowly
turned to cottage cheese. Basil wanted nothing more than to feed
his flock of free-range thoughts while paying homage to Officer
Jones’ manhood, but the idea of scaling Mons St. Jones was just
too damn appealing. Now there was a solid into which he could sink
his brawny brain-tooth. Did his brain have teeth? Of course it
did. Born on Juneteenth of lasting strength they would masticate
every thought from sublime to ridiculous. Ah, but Jones’ teats;
they were the real thing. They were solid brother with or without
a comma; not to be denied. No fantasy here. They were as smooth,
hard and wonderful to Basil’s touch as he imagined them to be.
They grounded his wandering psyche well within the positive
electrons of the planet’s core, there to wonder no more.
‘Fuck Deborah Kerr, she was so damn effeminate! Fey to the power
of ten. It’s wrong to think ill of the recently departed, but I
don’t wanna’ be like her. I wanna’ be a man among men. I wanna’ be
like Brett Jones. I don’t want to be Brett Jones, but I wanna’ be
his counterpart; his counterpoint; the sub-dominant answer to his
dominant fugal subject; a logical response to his call to rut. I
wanna’ be his macho-man. I wanna' be the Lego piece he can
comfortably snap into. I’d suck his teats ‘til his head caves in.
Yin, Yang, cock and gin, but surely I say unto you, my brethren,
the greatest of these be teats. Ah, yes, teats. Officer Jones’
big, firm, fully packed man-teats. I gotta’ get me a pair of them
things,’ Basil shook his head to clear his brain. It didn’t work.
Basil filed away his thoughts under ‘man-maid’ in an area just
short of the dark, unexplored, masculine region of his Medulla
Oblongata. (He was surprised to find he actually had one.) He
fantasized it was named after and populated with the biggest,
blackest, most fierce tribe of African warriors who were purported
to have the largest male appendages of any hominid on Earth. (‘Or
was it a metaphor taken from Catulli?’ he pondered: ‘Tua mentula
elongata est.’ Only Orff, who prattled on about his tuned stone
temple blocks, would know for sure.)
It was one more rumor less than fact, few men survived a butt
fucking by the ponderously pendulous penises of the Medulla
Oblongata tribe. Of those who did, most committed suicide shortly
thereafter, because they knew they would never know such
contentment, such complete fulfillment again. Those who didn’t,
were doomed to roam the Earth as empty vessels, with a sad,
forlorn look in their eyes, forever seeking to be filled once
more. There was neither a pill to relieve their sorrow nor a
rubber husband so large or comely it could afford them a moment’s
peace. Because of their failure to find solace for themselves,
only they knew the true origins of the Latin phrase: Pacem in
Terras. Jones gently kissed Basil as the young man’s brain babbled
on in his head blissfully unaware of what the DNA of Jones’ touch,
as loving and comforting as it might seem, was doing to him.
Basil's last thought before drifting off to sleep was a mental
note to himself to consider changing his last name to
Bulwer-Lytton; although, he was not one given to the sometimes
amusing vulgarities of purple prose.
* * * * * * *
The next morning, after a good breakfast, the men who were going
with Captain Vinceeth and Captain Waco left the main area. The
kids were going back down to the savanna. There were enough
Vasillian warriors from the Banshee to oversee everything. Trey
informed his partner the evening before about what he found, so
Waco could assist him if necessary. Waco was astounded as he knew
the admiral and his dad would be. They came to a big room with
what appeared to be a large, central round island table in the
middle. Around the island table about four feet above floated what
looked like holo-vid screens and there was some strange apparatus
in the center of the island.
Waiting for the men were the two fine looking androids they first
met when Waco and his companions reactivated the main caverns on
Mars and awakened its android work force. Their names were Nonno
and Leiset. They were a perfectly formed pair of anatomically
correct, human androids and wore cream colored jump suits with one
thin, dark-blue stripe down the left side. They greeted the men,
“Welcome to Mars central observation and diagnostic center,
Gentlemen. Some of you may remember me and my female partner from
your activation of the caverns. I’m called Nonno and my partner is
Leiset. We’re here to assist you anyway we can. I’ll turn things
over to Captain Vinceeth, and we will assist him in his visual
presentation."
Trey stood on a slightly raised dais in front of the men with the
island workstation behind him. “Nonno and Leiset brought me and
several of my officers here when we returned with our last cargo
of endangered critters. The Admiral left instructions for them to
look into anything more they could find out about the planet, its
history, and any other wonders the Krell may have left behind
which might aid us in our joint venture to save as much of Earth’s
eco-system and history as possible. Leiset, if you please, put up
the latest cavern maps you and Nonno have compiled for us,” Trey
requested of the androids.
Leiset didn’t answer, but quickly set to work typing commands into
the keyboard at her workstation at the island. The holo-vid
screens came to life and everyone marveled at the beauty and
completeness of the three dimensional renderings of the enormity
and complexity of the Martian caverns. “What you’re looking at,
Gentlemen, is the latest maps compiled, but please be aware, these
maps are not complete; not everything has been explored yet. We
estimate only seventy-five percent of the available, sustainable
land mass within the caverns have been found. Already the landmass
and oceans have surpassed the total landmass of Earth and still
there is twenty-five percent more to be discovered. We know it’s
there from the records. We just haven’t found them yet, but we
will,” Trey paused for a moment to let the enormity of the
findings sink in. There was a lot of whispering.
Finally, the Admiral spoke, “It’s incredible, Trey. It’s more
remarkable than any of us considered upon first discovery. It’s
almost like it’s a godsend for our purposes,” Lazarus said.
“You may feel even more that way when you find out what else
they’ve discovered. As you know there were two enormously large
bodies of water discovered. One was a salt sea and the other more
recently found is a huge ocean of fresh water. Leiset?” Trey spoke
to the female android and she hit another key on her
keyboard. A detailed map of the waters of Mars appeared
within the three dimensional ball representing the outer surface
of the planet. Clearly identifiable were the two huge bodies of
water in almost exactly the same proportions, one on one side of
the planet’s center of gravity and the other on the opposite side.
“Remarkable.” Lazarus said quietly.
“What do they look like to you, Admiral?” Trey asked him.
“My first response is a human one. They look like testicles.
They’re even ovoid in shape and depth,” Lazarus mused. The men
laughed and agreed.
“Exactly. They struck me and Waco the same way. What else, sir?”
Trey asked without a hint.
“Fuel tanks?” Charlie asked.
“Well done, Dad,” Trey said and smiled at Charlie.
“You don’t mean to tell us...?” Lazarus couldn't finish he was so
stunned by the implications.
“Hold on to your hats, Gentlemen. We will walk you thought this
one step at a time. We’ll physically show you. The oceans serve
two purposes; containers for a very active eco-system and as fuel
tanks for an unbelievably advanced and sophisticated tachyon drive
system to propel the planet. Mars never developed as the other
planets in this system and our discovery has the Venerians looking
into the possibility their planet wasn’t natural to this solar
system either. Mars was definitely flown into its present orbit,
but we don’t know why or for what purpose. Nonno and Leiset call
them ‘tachyon’ drives, but we ain’t real sure that’s correct;
however, for our purposes, it’s close enough.
"It’s probably the most comprehensive explanation for our limited
knowledge and understanding of hyper-drives. Our scientists are
just now coming around to conceiving the possibilities and
elementary applications of the quantum world. Even Nonno and
Leiset’s explanations of its capabilities tries our understanding.
It's like trying to explain the concept of a forth dimensional
tesseract, a hypercube or n-cube, to a three dimensional world. A
hypercube is the concept of a small box with a larger interior
than exterior, like the Tardis of Dr. Who or the ultimate
representation becoming the holo-deck of Star Trek fame. The first
steps to a greater understanding on a physical level might be
compared to the diminution of the communities on our ships; same
goal but different applications.
"Our trip for this morning, we will take you to the center of the
planet where the liquid molten core is contained within an
electromagnetic tesseract field of huge internal proportions yet
is contained within a sphere about twenty kilometers in diameter.
Its containment is the reason all plate tectonics have ceased on
the planet. Mars surface is no longer growing due to the
cessation of its internal forces to push the planet’s building
abilities. That’s why your scientist have labeled Mars a dead
world, but nothing could be further from the truth. Seeing it from
the surface, travelers from another galaxy wouldn’t give it a
second look. Not unlike Pandora’s box, if its heart were released
from its prison, its tesseract field, it would continue its
growth, but it would also cause massive destruction and changes in
the caves as the planet continues to expand. As it is, the
tesseract containing the core of the planet acts like a giant
reactor which is capable of breaking down the basic elements of
water to create tachyons. A single drop of water can produce
enough tachyons to power the engines for a fortnight.
"The second part, is to show you the propulsion engines
themselves, the scale and size of which have no corollary to our
comprehension. If you could make a mathematical equation
equivalent to the mystery of all the Pyramids on Earth and
multiply their conundrums by a thousand fold, you would only
approach a small portion, perhaps less than ten percent, of the
magnitude of this accomplishment. There has never been anything
found on any planet of any solar system to equal the staggering
engineering achievement of these drives. Their sheer size and
scale are almost incomprehensible. We estimate the equivalent land
mass would be the size of the entire European continent including
Russia and China, from the Atlantic to the Pacific. They’re just
that massive and that’s not even considering the incredibly huge
amounts of material which had to be removed from the planet’s core
to accommodate them— and where did it go, what did they do with
it? So far, we don’t have a clue,” Trey smiled as he shook his
head.
“How many are there, Son?” Lazarus asked.
“Two complete drives, Admiral. Enough power to put the fictional
Krell civilization to shame. It would be the equivalent of the
base power function of the id multiplied to the ultimate
logarithmic expression by the power of ten to thirty-two hundred
billion, quadrillion mega-joules output. The only thing we might
compare them with is two controlled supernovas the size of a star
a thousand times larger than sol. To be honest, it’s kept me awake
a number of nights trying to comprehend the magnitude of it and
for what purpose it was conceived and constructed. It’s amazing
it’s been here all this time, lying dormant, and becomes available
to us after several hundred million years of sleep. Even more
incredible is, everything checks out to be in perfect working
order like the day it was rolled off the assembly line and onto
the showroom floor. It makes one think about predestination and
the voices of the Ancients looking out for the future and the
balance of the universe. Whoever built this world or converted it
into its present form were beyond gods. They were in a class by
themselves,” Trey said in awe.
“Then, in essence, what you’re telling us is the planet Mars is an
enormous spaceship, fully gassed up, and ready to fly?” Lazarus
asked incredulously.
“Yes, sir, that’s exactly what we’re telling you with a couple of
qualifications. The tachyon engines have no thrust ports like a
conventional rocket engine. They’re more like our drives on the
Bandersnatch and now on the Banshee. On our ships, movement is
achieved and is a byproduct of wave manipulation from positive and
negative field functions. They create vast fields of
electro-mechanical repulsion and attraction waves that act like
positive and negative magnetic poles which use the standard
applications of the ethotic universal ‘ley-line’ derivative
functions upon the action, interaction, and reaction of dark
matter applications.
"Because our knowledge on the subject of ‘tachyons’ is so
rudimentary we’re not real sure how these engines operate and
their basic cause and effects. Nonno and Leiset are still
translating vast quantities of Krell scientific libraries and the
closest they can come up with is the engines don’t cause the
planet to fly or move, so much as jump. While they are capable of
moving Mars in a linear manner, we think, once the engines are
engaged, they cause the entire planet and its contents to jump
from one time dilation to another to arrive in another solar
system within another galaxy billions or even trillions of light
years away. One second it’s in the sol system, the next it floats
within a separate inner-dimensional state, the longest part of the
jump, for as long as it takes to type in the coordinates for a new
destination; once done – bamm – it jumps to the prescribed
coordinates.
"Passengers and crew feel little more than a slight discomfort in
their stomachs. Neither an egg in the galley nor one under a
mother hen will be cracked. The lack of movement, as opposed to
jumping, would suggest Mars, at one time, perhaps when it was
placed into orbit in this system, still had an atmosphere, surface
water and may even have supported rudimentary life-forms. If it
was moved at any speed, it could possibly rip away an atmosphere,
severely jeopardize fragile H2O or any life that might be present.
It would seem, this planet was created with the sole purpose of
hiding, protecting, and transporting fragile elements necessary
for life and enough room to preserve and reestablish vast
quantities of evolved life-forms. It begs the question, could its
original purpose have been to bring life to this solar system? The
explosion of life forms during the Cambrian period was so great
it’s never been accounted for by scientists. There were too many
that simply appeared almost overnight with little regard for the
laws and dynamics of evolution.”
“You mean, life on Earth might have come from an ark? Mars could
have been our ark?” Charlie asked in awe.
“Much more than just an ark, Dad,” replied Waco, “it not only can
transport precious cargo, it can sustain it almost indefinitely.
Nonno and Leiset’s studies have confirmed it is a perfectly
sustainable ethos unto itself and has been so almost as long as
the Earth has been in orbit around our sun,” Waco added. He
continued, “We’re still looking for information about how long
Mars has been in our system, but time to the builders of this
world wasn’t as important to them as it is to us. Maybe as we live
longer lives it will become less important to us. Who knows?” Waco
shrugged his shoulders.
“Any questions, Gentlemen?” Captain Vinceeth asked.
“How long to load, and when do we leave?” Lucas asked like he was
ready to leave Earth immediately. Everyone laughed at his
enthusiasm.
“Admiral Long?” Trey referred the question to Lazarus.
“With these new discoveries it might move up the exodus somewhat
from the original projections of the Universal High Council and
might change the directives of the Ancients. Let’s face it, things
have gone from bad to worse on Earth. I foresee only a few more
years before it all comes to a head, but to be honest, I have a
feeling those higher than myself have factored these findings into
the equation, and my best guess is, we still have about five
years. What I see as an added bonus to these findings is we will
be able to take many more folks and critters than originally
planned. We can use this world as the model of what we hope to
achieve in another galaxy. It can become a separate social
structure unto itself. We need more folks to colonize whose main
purpose will be to oversee and protect the delicate eco-structure
already in place. For now, I’m thrilled and satisfied with Captain
Vinceeth, Nonno, and Leiset’s findings. I’m anxious to see what
other wonders you have to show us, Captain," Lazarus urged Trey
and Waco to continue with the tour.
“This way, Gentlemen,” Nonno spoke for the first time to direct
the men to the shuttle train. The cars of the shuttle train were
considerably different from the bullet train to the savanna. These
were plush parlor cars like one might find on a world class train,
complete with fully stocked bar and an elegant dinning car that
served first class food and spirits. The train had no wheels so
there was no sense of movement. It rode on an electromagnetic
field. Differences in air pressure from the rear to the front of
the train propelled it forward or in reverse depending on the
desired direction of travel. It took sometime to get up to speed,
but because there was no friction from wheels or bearings, it soon
got up to supersonic speeds. Captain Vinceeth asked Leiset to give
a brief description of the train and the facilities available.
They had cabin cars available in case anyone chose to lie down for
a while to rest or for whatever purpose. There were snickers at
her use of the word ‘whatever’ but poor Leiset had no clue she
said anything funny.
The trip took approximately four hours, but the men enjoyed the
food and drink the androids provided. They played games and
conversed about the meaning of everything they learned in the last
few days. Basil and Brett Jones were more and more impressed by
the circumstances, of which they found themselves becoming a part.
Even though they hadn’t bonded physically, they were being drawn
to each other on a much stronger level of compatibility than
either might have imagined at the time. They didn’t seem to have
as much interest in the conversations of the cowboys and the
others who were directly affected by these new findings. Brett and
Basil were more interested in how all this might work out for them
and their future. It began to overwhelm them. Nonno came to their
rescue. “Would you gentlemen prefer to spend some time together in
one of our private rooms? We would be happy to provide anything
you might require. We are fully staffed,” he said.
Basil looked at Brett, and they read each other's faces. “I think
that would be very nice, thank you, Nonno,” Jones replied.
“I agree with my friend, sir,” Basil added.
“This way, Gentlemen,” Nonno motioned with his hand. The men
stood, and under the watchful eyes of the other men made their way
to one of the private rooms. Nonno ushered them into the room and
asked if they needed anything. He showed them how to use the
servant notification system and if activated promised someone
would come to their room within minutes. He wished them well, they
thanked him, and he left them to themselves.
“This is nice,” Basil said.
“Much nicer,” Jones replied. They sat in silence for a while
listening to the soft swooshing sound of the train as it passed
certain markers. The markers were purposely designed and built
into the tunnels as a psychological aid to passengers so they
might judge how fast they were traveling. The faster the markers
passed the faster the train was going. They also acted as a rhythm
of comfort, like a surrogate heartbeat to relax and reassure the
passengers. They served the same purpose as a mechanical clock
enclosed in several pairs of old socks and placed in the bed of a
lonely puppy who howls all night for his mother. The steady beat
of the clock isn’t his mother’s heartbeat, but he doesn’t know the
difference. It will soon quiet him down and give his new household
a peaceful night’s sleep.
“Would you like to get naked and lie on the bed with me, Basil?”
Jones inquired.
“I considered yesterday our first date, sir. Today is another day,
and in my mind might qualify as our second date. I don’t know if I
can be good and wait for our third date,” Basil smiled at Brett.
“I understand. I have no fear of you being good. Even if you allow
yourself to be bad, I’ll bet you’re very good at it,” Jones
laughed.
“Are you still afraid of changing, sir?” Basil asked.
“Not so much today as last evening. If we remain oral I don’t
think we’ll have much problem, but I don’t know what might happen
if you were to ingest my load anally. It ain’t like a regular
human’s. It’s like everything else about my body. They’re made up
of many tiny individuals. In essence you might be eating parts of
my body. That might be good, or it could be bad. It seemed to work
for Jesus if you don’t consider all the hype and controversy about
trans-substantiation, but on the upside, I promise I won’t ask you
to drink my blood and pretend it’s wine,” Jones grinned at Basil.
Basil grimaced like the comparison was not to his liking. Jones
continued, “On the other hand, my guys might find they’re in the
wrong body, try to readjust or find their way home. I just don’t
know what will happen,” he confessed.
“At this point, I’m too damn horny and hungry for you, it doesn’t
matter to me. I’m ready to throw caution under the train. Whatever
the outcome or whatever comes out, we’ll deal with it together,
agreed?” Basil put to him.
“Agreed, Partner,” Jones said as he embraced Basil and stole a
kiss.
The men talked quietly as they undressed, “How much longer do we
have on the train?” Basil asked.
“About an hour and a half. I understand the tour will take several
hours and then a four hour return trip,” Jones estimated.
“I may be ready for a nap on the way back,” Basil smiled.
“Me, too,” Jones allowed.
They lay down together and started making love. It wasn’t long
before Basil worked his way down Brett Jones’ treasure trail to
his engorged penis and began to make love to it. Basil was very
good at cock-sucking. Jones made a few efforts to participate, but
Basil waved him off. He wanted only to pleasure Jones and didn’t
want to be distracted. Jones gave up, laid back, and enjoyed his
partner’s talented mouth. It didn’t take Basil long before Jones
was squirming beneath the onslaughts of his partner’s throat.
Finally, Jones arched his back, started gasping for air and spoke
quietly to Basil, “You got me, Son, I’m there. Take me, Basil,” he
spoke as a plea and not a command. Basil was like a demon in his
pursuit of his prize. He felt Jones ejaculate boiling up from his
depths and quickly flowing the length of his hot officer’s cock.
He swallowed volley after volley and was sure a normal male never
produced so much. He bravely drank every bit and to his surprised
it tasted more sweet than ordinary. Jones’ ejaculate seemed to
have a thicker, creamier texture, almost like eggnog. After
cleaning Jones with his tongue and mouth, Basil rolled onto his
side, allowed his partner to make love to him and compliment him
on his blow-job, “That was fantastic, Son, I really appreciate the
release. I’ll be happy to reciprocate as soon as you’ve had a
chance to recover.”
“No, no, you don’t have to reciprocate. It ain’t necessary,
Officer Jones. I did what I did because I wanted to, not because I
expected anything in return.”
“Perhaps not, but that pretty much leaves half my needs standing
outside the door in the cold and rain, don’t it?” Brett smiled.
Basil laughed at his metaphor, “You don’t have to look at it that
way. Just look at it as a gift,” Basil insisted.
“Am I gonna’ be in charge of our relationship?” Brett asked
quietly.
“Yes, sir, I’d like that. I understand your point. I promise, sir,
no further arguments,” Basil submitted to his older, larger
partner.
“Good. Now, come up here and let me make love to you for a while,”
Brett softly suggested to the handsome young man.
Basil responded, but was suddenly aware something was happening to
his body, “Oh, God!” he exclaimed as he grabbed his lower abdomen
and crotch.
“What’s going on?” Jones demanded, “Speak to me, Boy! Tell me what
you feel.”
“I don’t know. It’s like I’m having a reverse... aggrrrgg! Oh,
God! Ooooh, God! Holy Mother! Oh! Oh! Oooh shit! That was
unbelievable,” exclaimed Basil as he squirmed and writhed on the
bed.
“A reverse what, Basil? What’s unbelievable?” Jones again
demanded.
“A reverse orgasm,” Basil choked out as he doubled over with his
hands around his gut. “Oh, my God!” he reached down with his right
hand and carefully felt his testicles. They were enlarged to
almost double their size and were incredibly sensitive. He pulled
them up where Jones could see them, “Feel!” Basil offered, then
added, “But for God’s sake, be gentle,” he held them loosely in
his hands. Jones could see their enlarged size and gently felt
them. They were hard as two large rocks.
“I was afraid of something like this,” Jones said with dismay.
“What’s happening, sir?” Basil looked to him for an answer.
“I think my guys discovered they weren’t home in my body so they
moved to the closest analog of home-base they could find, your
testicles. Is it painful, Son?”
“Not so much painful as it itches like crazy; it’s like ma’ balls
are on fire, and it’s making me horny as hell. It feels like the
old myth of getting blue balls when y'ain’t come in a while. It
makes me wanna’ take my fingernails and claw them out of my
balls,” Basil laughed nervously.
“That can’t be good. All the more reason for me to reciprocate,”
Jones said as he stole another kiss from Basil. Jones soon moved
down to Basil’s ample cock and started to make love to it. He was
surprised it only took him several strokes with his throat when
Basil emptied both his and his partner’s stored load into Jones’
mouth. Brett took everything and gulped it down, volley after
volley. He could tell the difference between his and his partner’s
ejaculate. His was a bit sweeter and Basil’s was a bit more salty
and tart. Together they reminded him of an oriental sweet and sour
sauce. He mentally reprimanded his guys and sent them back to
their nest. He could feel his balls filling up again. Jones could
swear he heard giggling as they went. The rest, Basil’s sperm,
were doomed to become part of Jones’ afternoon snack. He had to
talk with Jesse about this. How could he relieve himself if his
guys were like homing pigeons and could find their way back? Jones
looked up to see his partner lying on the small bed, glassy-eyed,
like he was in another state of consciousness. “You okay, Son?”
Jones spoke softly as he rubbed Basil’s forehead and smoothed his
hair.
“I’ve never experienced sex like that before. I’ve never felt so
drained,” Basil paused for a moment, then added, “That was
incredible. Thanks, Officer Jones. I’m glad you’re in charge. See,
you knew what to do. You took care of my problem. I have faith in
you to lead us. I don’t think you would ever consciously hurt me.
What just happened was a bit unexpected, but I can’t say it wasn’t
stimulating. It was certainly exciting enough. I thought I would
never stop coming. How are you, now that everything is back in
place?” Basil asked concerned.
“I have to talk with Jesse about this. How can I get relief if my
guys act like Bo Peep’s sheep; leave them alone and they’ll come
home wagging their tails behind them?” Jones asked. They shared a
laugh. Jones wondered where that came from. He never made a joke
before. He never felt like he had the smarts to make jokes. It
felt good to hear his mate laugh at his metaphorical analogy. God
help him! He even knew what ‘metaphorical analogy’ meant. ‘What
isn’t sacrificed for procreation purposes returns to be recycled
as food for thought,’ came flooding into Jones’ mind from several
tiny male voices who were once again all warm and cozy between his
massive thighs. In his head it sounded like a chorus composed of
the Vienna Boys Choir and the Chipmunks. “Oh, good God!” he
sighed, “Now they’re singing to me,” he groaned as his grabbed his
balls with both hands and gently squeezed. It struck Basil as
funny, and he broke up laughing.
“How wonderful is that! I probably have the only date on this
train with singing balls. Even Roy Rogers couldn’t claim that
unless you count the Son’s of the Pioneers. I wish I could hear
them,” Basil laughed.
“No you don’t! They’re singing about what part of them don’t get
used for insemination return to me to be absorbed as fertilizer
for my brain, or as they put it, ‘food for thought,’” Jones
groaned.
“Food for thought? Now, that’s funny!” exclaimed Basil as he
rolled on the bed laughing, “If nothing else you could end up with
a very fertile mind, or you might even have some pregnant
thoughts,” he teased. He laughed so hard he got Jones laughing
with him.
“Stop!” demanded Jones still laughing, “I don’t think my crotch
commandos should have choices like that. They’re carrying
socialism for the body politic too far. They’re pushing the
no-man-left-behind idea over the top. Whoever heard of a military
tradition becoming a syndrome? That’s ridiculous. No matter what
I’ve become, I expect to be in charge of my body and all its
functions. Next thing you know some damn ignorant rabid
Talibangelical Rebiblcan will want to pass some stupid law to
forcibly protect my Sea-men from ejaculation. Why stop with a
fertilized egg? Semen and eggs share a half-life. Pounding your
pud will be outlawed. My body will not be a democracy. At worst I
plan to be a dictatorial tyrant, like a demanding, unbending
orchestral conductor, or at best, a benevolent monarch. If I’m the
decider-in-chief, they should be ready to sacrifice themselves to
respond to my needs and not theirs. I learned that from Saint W.
Dumbfuck, the first false prophet,” Jones said with considerable
sarcasm and some disillusioned anger, “Ah, well, it could be
worse, I suppose,” Jones surmised, “It could be my waste which
insists on being recycled to my head instead. That would turn me
into an instant neo-con,” he laughed. That really set Basil off
and they held each other laughing. They calmed down and dozed in
each others arms for a while until the bell to their cabin rang.
Brett answered the receiver. “This is Nonno reminding you and Mr.
Troubadour you have only fifteen minutes before we arrive at our
destination. You may wish to join the others, sir,” he said
courteously.
“Yes, thank you, Nonno. We’ll be right along,” Brett smiled at
Basil, “Shall we pickup where we left off on the way back, Son?”
he inquired.
“I’d like that. I’d like a little more experience dealing with
your crotch commandos,” Basil giggled.
“You sure?” Jones asked.
“I’m sure. They don’t frighten me none,” replied Basil with
conviction.
* * * * * * *
Trey and Waco led the men to the main engine room complex which
worked in conjunction with a larger control center near the lodge
in the first great cavern. The entire planet could be directed
from either control center, but it was set up to have the second
be an engineered slave to the first. Trey had Nonno and Leiset
show them live camera shots of the tesseract containment center
where the molten core of the planet was contained. There were
filters on the lenses to protect the viewer from harmful rays
which might damage their eyes. They walked around for several
hours until it was almost noon, then returned to the train for a
nice lunch. Talk was lively over lunch and what this revelation
meant for their eventual getaway.
After lunch they took another shuttle to the shores of the great
fresh water ocean. It was as big as the Pacific Ocean on earth and
had many small islands one could travel to and explore on their
journey across the great expanse. It was as remarkable as any
other of the incredible discoveries on Mars. Trey and Waco were
able to show the men a holo-vid of the two engines and everyone
marveled at the enormity of their size. The men spent another
couple of hours touring several parts of the engineering section
within the interior of the enormous structures. There were
mechanical bots everywhere in nooks and crannies of the great
structure. Many had only one purpose, they saw to that function
and nothing else. There were bots to check on the other bots, take
care of them, repair them, and replace them when needed. There was
even a retirement center for the older more sentient bots. They
were only reprocessed when their final battery pack expired.
The men boarded the train and started the return journey. Everyone
sat around having refreshments and talking. Basil and Brett Jones
didn’t have much to contribute, but the cowboys didn’t try to drag
them into their conversations. They could see from the way the men
looked at each other they were falling in love. No one wanted to
disturb that possibility. There was none of the rowdy ‘well-met’
teasing or congratulations which usually accompanied two of their
group when bonding. While Basil was a dedicated and respected
member of the colonies, Brett Jones wasn’t, and was shown the
respect of a visiting dignitary. On the other hand, they
considered Commander Hawkins an anointed member and his
relationship with Sam Stamper was open season. Sam took their
joking with his usual aplomb and stood up for his handsome, mature
suitor. Sam’s genuine friendship and good humor only endeared him
to the commander all the more.
* * * * * * *
Brett and Basil stayed to themselves, and when invited to a
private cabin, they quietly agreed to once again let Nonno lead
the way. They spent most of the return trip in the private room.
They were just enjoying each others company and getting to know
one another. “What did you have in mind about getting to know my
‘guys’ better?” Jones asked Basil.
“Now that we know what to expect, I wonder what would happen if I
ignored their persistence, and they were faced with a dead end? No
pun intended," Basil said and laughed, "What if I gave them an
option of either cooperating or being flushed out manually by
masturbation?” he asked.
“They would probably accept the challenge, make themselves free
particles, then seek me out and conjoin with me again,” Jones
guessed.
“What if I just endured them and forced them to become absorbed?”
he mused.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think I want to take the chance until
we talk with Jesse Watkins. Right now, he’s busy with the others
and enjoying the excitement of their findings. We were lucky last
time. I don’t want to be a threat to you. I have to find an answer
or solution, if you will,” Brett chuckled, “that will work for
both of us before I return to the Holy City. If I’m expected to
perform for the holy father and something like that happens, I’ll
have a lot of ‘splainin’ to do,” Brett said like Ricky Ricardo.
Basil giggled.
“Do you think the Steele kids could help? I noticed some older
Evanescent children who looked to be about puberty age. Perhaps
they might know about it and could give you some advice,” Basil
suggested.
“I hadn’t thought of that, but it’s a good idea. Let’s talk with
Jessie first,” Brett said.
As the trip progressed there came a ring on the intercom from
Nonno. Brett answered. “Pardon my intrusion, sir, but Jesse
Watkins asked if he and his companion might visit with you and Mr.
Troubadour in your cabin?”
“Yes, of course, Nonno. We’re not doing anything but relaxing. Ask
him to give us a few minutes to dress,” Jones told him.
“I don’t think your nudity will bother Master Watkins or Utah,
sir,” Nonno told him.
“No, I don’t suppose it would. Thanks, Nonno, tell them to come
right away, then,” Brett agreed.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll tell them immediately.”
Brett looked at Basil and smiled. “Okay with you, Son?” he asked.
“You’re in charge, sir. Of course it’s all right with me. One of
the first things I learned when I came to the colonies is, no one
is shy about nudity. If you want to be considered an insider, you
can’t be shy either. I’ll admit, it took me a while to keep from
staring at some of the drop-dead handsome cowboys, but everyone
was patient with me, and I soon got over the novelty of it. How do
you think I could be around you all day yesterday on the savanna
without drooling out the corners of my mouth like an idiot?” Basil
laughed.
“You like me that much, Son?” Jones grinned and blushed.
“Pert-damn much, sir,” Basil used cowboy lingo he heard so many
times.
“I think you’re pert-damn special too, Kiddo,” Jones grabbed Basil
and stole a kiss as a knock came on the cabin door. “Come in, it’s
open,” Jones replied in a loud voice. Jesse Watkins and his
faithful companion, Utah, came into the room. Jones and Basil were
still holding each other sitting on the edge of the bed. They were
completely naked and didn’t bother to rush around to cover
themselves. Jesse and Utah didn’t bat an eye. They just looked at
each other and smiled.
“Have a seat, sir and you, too, Utah,” Jones motioned for them to
sit down, “What can we do for you gentlemen?” Jones realized he
included Utah in that and felt funny for a moment. He winked at
the handsome dog.
“That’s all right, Mr. Jones. I’m sometimes a gentleman, although
I much prefer to be known as my master’s companion,” he said.
“I think I understand, but sometime I’d like to talk with you more
about why you feel that way, Utah,” Jones replied.
“Be happy to, sir. At your convenience,” Utah agreed, then turned
his attention to his master.
“We came to see if there’s anything we can do for you men. We
picked up some vibrations on the winds that things might be more
complicated for you than necessary. We heard you might like to
discuss it with us," Jesse said like a dad about to tell his boys
about the birds and bees.
“Yes, sir, I think we would,” Jones turned to Basil like he was
expecting him to join in.
“I think I understand Utah’s position a little better than you
might, sir,” Basil smiled at Jones, “I agreed, where you lead I
will follow."
“Good for you, Mr. Troubadour. You do understand,” Utah agreed.
Jones explained what happened when they tried oral sex, and they
were afraid to try anything else because of Basil’s initial
reaction.
“It’s a minor problem Utah and I can handle, but you have to
realize if you find you like each other enough to continue to
bond, there might be other considerations necessary,” Jesse told
them.
“What sort of consideration, Mr. Watkins?” Jones asked
suspiciously, taking Basil’s hand in his.
“We’ve analyzed your change and while you’ve taken on most of the
characteristics of the Evanescents you still retain about a forty
percent human factor. We hope to have you stabilized by the end of
the week and you should only have a possible change factor of
another five to ten percent; then, hopefully, everything will be
stable. Your change should be complete. What you two need to
consider is, if you choose Basil and he accepts you for a mate,
there is the possibility of him changing to become compatible with
you, and by that, we don’t mean just male/male compatible. With
all the variables we’re dealing with, anything is possible,” Jesse
warned.
“What about returning to the Holy City and my relationship with
the Holy Father?” Brett seemed anxious.
“By that time, you should be fully stabilized. We won’t release
you to return until we’re comfortable you can handle your
situation. We understand you’ll be under some scrutiny for a
while. We’ll train you in your new abilities you’re not aware of
yet. Norman can’t get pregnant anyway, because I didn’t give him
any more than the basic female plumbing. Right now, you shouldn’t
have to be worrying about snuffing your warriors while
entertaining someone of your choice,” Utah laughed at his master’s
joke. Jesse looked down at the beautiful dog and petted him. “God
love him, he’s my best audience, Gentlemen,” he smiled at Brett
and Basil.
“Basil suggested a couple of the older Evanescent males might be
able to help me,” Jones said.
“Wouldn’t do no harm to ask ‘em. They’re all curious. They know
what happened to you. They might want to crawl inside and take a
look around. They wouldn’t hurt chu’ none. In the meantime you can
take care of most of your problems. Just remember, you have
hundreds of thousands of tiny individual critters who make up the
sum of your parts. Your wavy navy ain’t the only ones with a say
in your makeup. You can make your own checks and balances and
regulate them accordingly with your other cells. You’re the
Sheriff. Deputize a number of them and form a posse to ride herd
on them upstart outlaw cowboys of yours,” Jesse said with a grin.
“Then you’re telling me – us – it’s all right for us to experiment
with each other?” Jones asked.
“I think it’s safe enough. Just remember, if you get into trouble
you can always send for help. We can be here in minutes. If
nothing else we can throw a bucket of cold water on you,” Jesse
grinned. Everyone shared a laugh.
“What a comfort," Jones said laughing, “I still feel unsure about
my control of things,” he said with some reticence.
“There are some things you might want to think about and discuss
with each other if you wish to continue seeing one another on a
regular basis. Otherwise, there might be unexpected consequences
for Basil,” Jesse warned again.
“What kind of consequences?” Jones asked.
“We’re not sure but we foresee a possible blending of species to
create a mate for you which could possibly become a compromise
between species and/or sexes. Beyond that, I can’t be more
definite. You ain’t dealing with your average boy meets boy or boy
meets girl situation where you have the luxury of playing
patty-cakes together for a while, and if it don’t work out, move
to the next flower. We’re talking serious consequences here. You
made your decision, Officer Jones, but Basil ain't been given that
option. In the last forty years folks have had to contend with a
passel of sexually transmitted diseases. Most have been cured and
vaccines created. As you know, Brett, there ain't no chance for
species change. Mother Nature plays for keeps.
"But it ain’t as dire as it sounds. Just make damn sure both of
you know what you want. I’m sorry I can’t be more specific, but
once you make a decision, nature will take care of the rest. It’s
like when you made your choice to become a separate species, once
initiated, it will be taken out of your hands. There’s no turning
back, and like Humpty-Dumpty, no one can put either of you back
the way you were. I could’ve changed you back in the very first
stages, Brett, and I can change Basil if something major begins to
happen to him, but after a couple more sessions with you, I
probably won’t be able to.
“What about the Holy Prophet? Will I have some effect on him I
might have to explain?” Jones asked.
“None we can foresee. You will quickly learn to control cause and
effect of your body with him. Like I say, we’ll make sure you’re
fully stabilized before we release you to go back to the holy
city. He will observe nothing, but with his new expanded powers,
he may be suspicious. You must act normal and show more of a
concerted effort to control your religious displays with a little
more thought to inspiration. You will find yourself changing in
all directions, not just physically.”
“He’s noticed changes already, sir,” Basil spoke up, “I’ve noticed
changes in him since we been together, but whatever’s affecting
him is beginning to affect me, too. Some of my ideas are changing.
My mind seems to be flooded with bits and pieces of arcane drivel
that come to me out of the blue. I don’t know where it comes from.
At first it seemed to make no sense and then, the next minute, it
all fits together like the parts of a surreal puzzle. I mean it’s
some bat-shit crazy thoughts. It feels like parts of myself that
have been damaged by my time in the Cheney camp and the trauma of
a near death experience is being healed inside my head,” Basil
tried his best to explain.
“It may be, Son. It’s almost to be expected. The reason Officer
Jones can heal folks is because of his mutated DNA. Anytime he
touches another person they’re affected by his genetic makeup. We
just don’t know how this is working out as far as his species
change. Undoubtedly Brett’s hormones may be affected and could
cause a psychedelic reaction within your mind, much like a fever
will cause you to have weird dreams. Sometimes it don’t take no
special talent; love alone can do that to a body. We just can’t
know all the variables. You may be highly influenced by him
physically and mentally. Certainly, it must seem somewhat bizarre
or surreal to you. What’s happening to him is beyond the realm of
your ordinary reality.
"You’re like Alice who just popped down the rabbit hole and found
herself in another universe where nothing makes sense. In fact,
what makes sense to you will actually work in your universe, but
won’t when you return. It doesn’t matter, you’ll have an operating
knowledge of both, but also a greater overall understanding of
everything. It’s one thing to live and work among the colonies and
be exposed to new and unusual things almost daily, yet it’s quite
another to find yourself befriending a man who is becoming another
species. Surely you’ve discussed this with each other?” Jesse
questioned. He watched Jones and Basil look at each other and draw
two blanks. “Maybe not,” he concluded.
“Not as thoroughly as you’ve suggested, but we discussed what’s
happening in regard to our adjusting to each other. I’ve agreed to
see Officer Jones through his change and be his friend. I told him
if he needs me, I want to help. I agreed to go along for the ride.
I’m not afraid of his changes, but after listening to your
conversation I’m beginning to think he’s more concerned about that
tyrant Scudder than he is me,” Basil sounded a bit hurt.
“No, no! You must not think that, Son. I won’t let you think it,
Basil,” Brett interjected in a demanding voice, “It’s because of
you I’m concerned about his reaction. I want to see you again. I
want to be with you again, but the only way I’m gonna’ be able, is
to know how to get around him without him discovering what or how
much I know. He’s a much greater threat to us than any changes
which might be occurring with me or you. You have to believe me,
Basil. Please believe me, Son,” Jones pleaded.
“I believe you, Brett. I’m sorry I doubted you,” Basil said
softly. Jones pulled the young man into his arms, held him
tightly, and stole a kiss.
Utah looked at his master, grinned, and wagged his tail. “You both
would do well to spend some time with Sonny and Vivian Steele when
we return,” Jesse said, “Talk with them about the adjustments they
were required to make taking on two alien children as their own.
They are two of the most remarkable people we’ve run across in a
long time. They have taken the experience and allowed themselves
to grow and learn from it. Adam and Eve couldn’t have better
parents if they were the same species. Also talk with Warren
Steele and his mate Horse. Talk with Indigo/Blue and Keekepata.
They will have some revelations for you. Talk with Captain
Vinceeth and Waco. They had to make some major adjustments. Your
suggestion of talking with a couple of the older male or even
female Evanescent children is an excellent idea, but most of all,
after tonight, by the time we return through the gate tomorrow
morning to the colonies, you two must know what you want for the
future or you must consider breaking off any further attempts to
see each other for a while, otherwise it might be disastrous for
Basil,” Jesse saw the surprised look on the men’s faces and paused
to let his words sink in.
“I don’t want any harm to come to Basil, sir,” Jones said almost
with tears in his eyes.
“We know you don’t, Brett. It’s the furthest thing from our minds.
It ain’t our intention to alarm you either, but it’s just the way
things are right now. After tonight, if you withdraw from each
other, wait until Brett’s changes are complete, he has full
control of himself and his new abilities, then you may begin to
see each other again. Until then, it could be dangerous for you to
continuing seeing each other. Just like I told you when you chose
to accept the change, I couldn’t guarantee the outcome because
there were too many variables. It’s the same with Basil now. We
can’t guarantee the outcome once Mother Nature gets her hands on
you two. Her first thought is to preserve, protect, and guarantee
a new species' survival and she will go to great lengths to make
sure she does. Just like our situation now on Earth. Do you think
it’s by chance this world is here, ready and available right at
the moment we need it most?" Jesse asked.
“What are the chances I was saved from death to insure Brett’s and
my linage survive?” Basil spoke the words he heard being said in
his head.
Jesse looked at Utah and grinned real big, “Are you ever wrong?”
he asked the beautiful dog. Utah just smiled and wagged his tail,
“We discussed it, Basil. There’s a good possibility it just may be
the case. My companion and I argued that very point this morning.
I’ve come to believe he was right, and I was wrong. What told you
to ask?” Jesse smiled at the young man.
“I don’t know. A voice in my head. Sometimes more than one. I’ve
been getting input ever since I’ve been with Officer Jones. I told
you about it. It just comes to me out of left field. Most of it is
junk like static on an old radio, but once in a while something
comes through loud and clear and makes sense. I don’t know where
it’s coming from. I have no idea, but I ain’t afraid. They seem to
be directing me. It’s the same voices what came to me as I lay
dying in that awful Cheney camp,” Basil said anxiously.
“Okay, in light of your explanation, Basil, maybe there’s another
dimension we ain’t considered," Jesse allowed, "Too many variables
are happening too quickly for me. I’m just getting too damn old to
keep up with every detail, especially now when the state of the
universe is in such flux. Thank the voices and the Ancients I got
my companion to help me remember the minutia more carefully than I
can by myself. Don’t know what I’d do without him. I wouldn’t
wanna’ find out. When we get back to the Bandersnatch, I’ll have
Cable run a complete blood workup on you Basil. By comparing your
blood to Officer Jones’ we might be able to make a better
prediction or give you a better explanation why you’re having
weird thoughts. We don’t expect to find any health problems,
because Brett’s DNA will have taken care of any anomalies you
might have. So when you return tomorrow morning, you and Brett go
right to sickbay and tell Cable what I want. In the meantime,
unless you learn something or come up with a better idea, you
might want to consider what we’ve talked about this afternoon,”
Jesse stressed.
“We will, sir, I don’t want no harm to come to Basil,” Brett
emphasized again.
The intercom bell rang and a voice came over the speaker. “Sorry
for the intrusion, Gentlemen, but we will be arriving at the Lodge
station in fifteen minutes. We thought you might like to know,”
the voice of Nonno announced.
“Thanks, Nonno. We’ll be ready,” Jones replied.
“We’ll leave you gentlemen to get dressed. Come, Little Brother,”
Jesse spoke to his companion.
“Thanks for dropping by, Mr. Watkins. Thank you, Utah. We
appreciate your help,” Jones said, “You’ve given us a lot to
consider,” Brett said.
* * * * * * *
Jones and Basil joined the other men. Commander Hawkins hugged
both men like he approved of their being together. Sam, the ever
consummate gentleman cowboy, shook their hands and grinned real
big. “We’ll be arriving soon, Gentlemen,” Del told them, “There’s
some kind of emergency on the savanna among Ping and Pong’s tribe.
Jesse and Utah requested you join them immediately upon returning.
They’re hoping you might be able to do something to help the small
critters,” Del explained to Brett.
“We’ll do our best, sir,” Jones replied, looking at Basil. Basil
blushed because Brett included him. It was his first sign the big
man was beginning to think of them as a couple. They sat with
Jesse and Utah for a while on the train. Jesse explained a couple
of the youngest kits were suffering from growing problems. Their
best guess was the limited diets for several generations were
beginning to take its toll on the latest generation of young and
while the adults were receiving proper nourishment on Mars it was
not soon enough to be transferred to the young.
After returning to the station, Basil and Brett walked immediately
to the bullet train with Captain Waco, Captain Vinceeth, the
Admiral, Captain Jones, Charlie Goodnight and most of the cowboys.
Where one went, they all went. Besides, there was always something
new to learn and no one wanted to miss a thing. They arrived,
removed their clothing, and walked a good way to the area where
the ring-tails founded their small village. There was much
gracious bowing and ritual friendship greetings, but they were
only done by the recognized leaders of the group or they would’ve
been there all afternoon. Ping and Pong introduced the humans to
the clan and they welcomed everyone warmly. Brett and Basil were
directed to sit together on some very comfortable rocks that
seemed to be heated internally and made their butts warm and cozy.
It was a remarkable sensation.
The parents of the young sick ring-tails came forward with their
babies. The first was no more than a handful. It was an infant no
more than a couple of weeks old. It barely had its eyes open. The
second was a little older but he was just a toddler and clung to
his mother’s back. He was thin, drawn, and emaciated. The mother
reluctantly handed the huge man her baby. The larger of the two
crawled up into Basil’s lap and threw his small arms around his
neck. Basil smiled but didn’t know what to do. He decided to just
hold it and pet it until Jones finished with the baby. He stroked
and petted the little tyke and cradled it in his arms as he
watched Jones go to work. Brett was trying desperately to get his
DNA onto the baby, but it was covered with so much fine fur he was
having a difficult time. Finally he wet his finger with his saliva
and gently touched the delicate nose of the tiny female ring-tail.
A faint smile crossed her little face, she grabbed Jones’ finger
in both hands and started sucking on it like it was the best thing
she ever had in her mouth.
“She knows best what’s good for her,” Jesse whispered to Brett.
“Oh, my God!” Jones exclaimed quietly.
“What is it, Son?” Jesse asked.
“Look at my right teat, sir,” Jones motioned his head in that
direction. Jesse saw and laughed at the bright white bead of milk
oozing from the big man’s teat.
Jesse took his finger and captured the drop. He put it to his
mouth and tasted. “How the Hell can you replicate lummox milk?” he
asked in an astonished voice shaking his head in momentary
bewilderment.
“Hell if I know, sir, I just thunk about it and how good it might
taste for her right now. You think it’s meant for her?” Brett was
grinning at Jesse's amazement.
“I’d bet my ass on it, Cowboy,” Jesse laughed, "why not let her
decide?” Jesse asked.
Brett slowly removed his finger from the little one’s mouth. She
sputtered and looked like she was going to cry. Jones quickly
moved her to his teat. She seemed confused. Brett took his teat
between his forefinger and his thumb and gently milked it. A
little squirted out onto his middle finger. He gently wiped it
across the baby’s lips. He almost dropped her, she was going crazy
squirming in his hand looking for more of the wonderful stuff. She
could smell it, and there was no doubt she wanted more. He placed
her tiny mouth right on his huge teat, and she started sucking
like the tornado that leveled Waco, Texas. She couldn’t drink fast
enough. Her little belly began to swell. Her parents were wide
eyed, and Jones invited them to sit on his lap to get a better
view. The father sat on his left leg and the mother on his right.
They were shedding tears as they watched their baby eat for the
first time. They knew she was going to be all right. The baby
drank until she could hold no more. Brett returned her to her
parents, and they took turns bowing and rubbing his hand with
their scent glands. They officially made him one of their family.
By the time Jones was ready for the little male kit he was
climbing all over Basil like he was his personal jungle-gym. Basil
was playing with him, tickling him, and chasing him with his hands
around his neck and shoulder. The kit was having a ball. His
parents looked on in awe. He seemed so sick before when they
brought him to Basil; he seemed to have little interest in living.
Basil never related to animals much, but he found a close
communion with the little male kit. He didn’t want to give him up
to Brett, but he reluctantly obliged. Brett offered him some teat
and the kit took advantage of the sweet tasting milk. He gorged
himself on it. His parents looked on in amazement as the other
parents did. When he finished they, too, made Jones an official
member of their family, only this time the parents included Basil.
Basil didn’t know why but graciously accepted their sentiment.
Jesse closely watched everything and was bemused by Basil’s
reaction. Utah wasn’t. He leaned into his master and whispered, “I
would humbly urge my master not to wait until tomorrow for the
blood test for young Basil. The Banshee has a full lab on board or
you could send an android back through the gate with Basil’s blood
samples for Cable. I would further remind my good master of his
promise to immediately check everyone’s DNA as a standard
routine.”
Jesse grinned then laughed out loud, “Thank you, my beloved
companion. It must be done. Once again, I hadn’t considered
Basil’s DNA. Don’t know what I’d do without you, my love,” Jesse
answered.
“I’m sure you would do just fine, Master. I have faith in you. You
look no older than the day I became your slave. If anything, you
have mellowed and become more human than you would like to admit,”
Utah replied.
“Perhaps you’re right. I won’t argue the point with you. You would
know better than I about such things,” Jesse said with great trust
in his companion.
* * * * * * *
There were several other critters came to Jones and Basil, and
Brett helped everyone. Two Evanescent adolescents came to them.
They heard Jones and Basil were having some coupling problems and
needed advice. They melted right in front of everyone and melded
into Basil and Brett’s bodies. It was a strange feeling. They were
sitting on the warm rocks and holding hands. They could feel the
Evanescent young moving back and forth from body to body as they
checked out everything. It only took a minute or two and everyone
watched as they reformed in front of the men. They were laughing
and giggling like they shared a secret.
“You are almost as close as we are, Gentlemen, only Mr. Basil is
like a small bud of a beautiful flower who has not yet fully
blossomed. When he comes into full bloom he will be awesome,” the
older one spoke, then they both fell out laughing at their rather
cryptic words, “You only had a temporary problem with some
renegade cells, Officer Jones. They didn’t complete transition and
were caught between. We have taken care of them. You will have no
further problems. Learn to use your changeling abilities. Exercise
them everyday like you do your muscles. If you need a routine we
can help you. You must also exercise your human attributes as well
so you don’t lose them. There are a few other secrets you must
know about we haven’t shared with the others because they might
not understand, but we will with you because you are becoming
first cousins to our race. You need to know these things. Basil
wondered what they meant as they thanked them and returned with
the cowboys to the bullet shuttle to return to the lodge and
supper. After the shuttle train arrived at the Lodge station all
passengers disembarked to go their way. They were told there would
be a couple of hours to relax and clean up before supper was
served.
Before they left the savanna Jesse, Admiral Long, Waco, and
Captain Vinceeth approached Basil and Brett. “We’ve decided not to
wait to test young Basil’s blood, Gentlemen. We’ll take you
directly to the Banshee when we return to the lodge station and
our medical staff will draw his blood. It will take several hours
for analysis,” Jesse said.
Brett was a bit concerned, but Basil wasn’t. “They’re only
concerned for you and me, sir. I would trust these men with my
life and have. They’re the only reason I’m alive today. I’d like
to know. There’s something going on in my body I can’t explain.
I’m beginning to feel a little light in my heels, but it ain’t the
way you might think,” Basil grinned.
“I know what you mean. I feel that way just before I’m about to
levitate,” Brett replied.
It took little time to draw four small tubes of Basil’s blood. The
Visallian medical team said they should have a complete workup and
DNA analysis in a couple of hours. They would notify the Admiral
and Jesse Watkins immediately. The men went their separate ways.
Brett and Basil returned to their quarters to cleanup and prepare
themselves for their last supper on Mars. They would have an early
breakfast and then walk through the gate back to the colonies.
They had a fine supper. It was a more relaxed and convivial time
than previous meals. People were laughing and talking about their
day. The kids of all ages were going from person to person to
crawl up in their laps and steal a choice bit of food or talk
someone out of their dessert. Adam and Eve Steele were having a
ball. They loved visiting their relatives, but when they were
tired, they were ready to go home with their parents. The men were
telling the women and children about the incredible new scientific
finds on the planet and what it meant for their future.
Lazarus was asked to give a brief speech at the end of the meal.
“Friends and neighbors, what we found here today will mean the
difference between success and possible failure of our mission to
leave the Earth as planned. Not only will it insure our success,
but we will be able to take so much more with us. My mate and his
collection of life forms and plants from the Amazon is just about
to capacity. Even with microminiaturization things can get out of
hand when compacted too tightly. Captain Jones can fly the
Raven to Mars and unload in one of the tropical caverns, and
return to Earth to fill it up again. It will provide a greater
bio-diversity than we ever anticipated.
"I’ve been asked by my companions to speak with you about their
new found family, who until now, we have been content to refer to
as our ring-tailed brethren or Ping and Pong’s family. I never
called them by their species name or the name they call themselves
because they were always just family to me, but they come from a
planet in the Andromeda system known as Langeria and they refer to
themselves as Langers or if you wish to be formal, Langerians.
Either is correct with them.
"I would like to see a greater introduction of them into our
system here on Mars as engineers and administrators. There is no
more intelligent and forward thinking race of folks than the
Langers. Our present group has been a bit handicapped by forced
stagnation, but they are coming back quickly. I think they will be
a great help, and I personally look forward to working with them
in the near future. In the meantime, enjoy your evening. Some will
be returning to the colonies in the morning after breakfast, but a
group of us will be taking the Banshee to Venus for a brief state
visit. It is necessary and important we maintain a close
friendship with the Venerians.”
Everyone applauded the Admiral for his speech and agreed with him
the Langers should become involved with the running of Mars and
integrated into the shuttle ships to help with navigation and
keeping the ships running smoothly. Supper was over and Jesse
invited Basil and Brett to go with the group of men to the
Banshee. Basil’s blood analysis was finished.
When they arrived they were surprised to find Cable, David, and
Jonathan waiting for them. “We took the liberty of coming though
the gate Admiral. We didn’t think you’d mind if we hand delivered
Officer Jones’ blood chart for comparison. At first we thought
there might be some mistake in Basil’s analysis, when compared to
Brett Jones. I offer my humble apologies to the medical crew of
the Banshee. There was no mistake. Here, we’ll put it up on the
holo-vid and you can see for yourself,” Cable explained. The two
charts appeared on the screen side by side. There was a hush fell
over the room. Jones and Basil had no idea what might be
happening. They couldn’t read the charts. They didn’t have a clue.
Utah started laughing and got his master laughing. “Would you
please?” Jesse mockingly scolded his faithful companion, “Of
course, you were right all along.” Jesse then turned to Jones,
“What state were you originally from, Officer Jones?” he asked.
“Wyoming, sir." Brett Jones replied.
“And you, Basil?”
“Wyoming, sir,” Basil replied.
“What was your real last name, Son?” Jesse asked Basil.
“Do I really have to say, sir? You won’t believe me. Everyone will
just think I’m lying,” Basil seemed frustrated and almost
frightened.
“No, Son, you don’t have to say. I know what it was,” Jesse
answered quietly as if to soothe the young man’s feelings. He took
a pen and paper and wrote something on it. He showed it only to
Basil, “Was that your original last name?” Jesse asked.
“Yes sir, but how did you know?” Basil asked with surprise.
“DNA don’t lie, Son,” Jesse replied.
End Chapter 48 ~ Waco’s Lummox
Copyright ~ © ~ 2006 ~ 2017 ~ Waddie Greywolf ~ All Rights
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Mail to: Waddie Greywolf <waddiebear@yahoo.com.
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09/04/2008
02/14/2017