Smart Bomb Chapter 2. Southern Georgia

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Chapter 2. Southern Georgia

Georgia state line, he stood in an orchard, the overcast sky threatened with dark, moisture laden clouds.

And something new.

He was cold. Core temperature was warning of below sub-optimal functioning level. His core thermal levels were four-degrees celsius low.

He had walked in the rain for six hours trying to cover his records of travel, any records of his journey would come to a dead-end at the last bus stop where he disembarked as a short, elderly woman.

Standing in the wet, secluded clearing, his feet made squishing sounds in the canvas shoes that he purchased with real money at a second-hand market.

Using the roll of money he carried, he had covered all his traces since leaving the metropolitan area. Traveling north on foot, he had interacted with a number of citizens.

Now, the core was turning up energy from his processors. But it was not enough, in the late November of this part of the country, the early winter’s storm was closing in. He needed to find an organic food source and shelter within twelve-hours or he would go into an unprogrammed energy debt and he did not know what might happen.

Looking at the trees, there was nothing in the branches to eat. A survey in his knowledge base indicated that among the peach orchard there was little to eat, so he walked on.

The wind picked up, a driving rain was causing his sensation of cold to increase to alarming levels. Being an artificial system, his creator designed tolerance for only a limited number of metabolic events. In the desert, he could function for a month without shade, the core processors able to withstand temperatures above what humans could survive.

Cold, that was another matter, his creator designed his systems for efficient heat reduction, not retention.

An oversite of his creator, the tissues he had over his frame were not required for operation, but they were still living tissue, he would draw unwanted attention if he had dying flesh falling away from his structure.

The sound of a vehicle telegraphed a possible splash from a nearby puddle he had just passed. Tugging up the knapsack he wore in a backpack style, he would use it for what little protection it offered and braced himself for the cruelty of the American motorist.

But it never came, no splash, no increase of engine noise to accelerate into the puddle. Instead, the sounds of decreasing power and a van with “Independant News” painted on the side with three men, one wearing a business suit, pulled up next to him from behind, rolling down the passenger window.

“You’re fixing to die out here. You might as well get in.” The passenger said to him.

“I don’t wish to impose, the rain will stop soon.”

“I’m a reporter, we were sent out on a report of funnel clouds in the area, there is a severe weather warning out. You stay walking, you will find just how bad it can get.” The one in the business suit said.

“I’m Richard, Scott at the video controls, camera man over there at the wheel is Donde. You don’t have a local accent.” Richard the Reporter tilted his head and thought for a moment. “West Coast? Oregon?”

“Yes, a little town called Antelope. I’m Steve.” He responded. “I am cold, too.”

“I bet, the temp has dropped ten-degrees since we left the studio an hour ago. We are shooting on location every ten-minutes or so. Our next stop is a trucker restaurant a few miles up the road.”

“Thank you. I could use a bite to eat, too.” Steve said. “I’ll get some coffee and wait out the storm.”

“That is a smart move.” Scott’s voice in back sounded like a tuba in the back of the van. “It will get worse before it gets better. A good place to hang out will be up ahead.”

The van slowed down when they reached an open field, Donde pulled over, Scott opened the door and the three news-professionals looked around at the sky. In the distance where they were heading, the clouds were low and oddly colored.

Scott in the back, held his hand up to his ear.

“Rotation in a cloud, fifteen miles west by southwest relative to our location.” His video display overlaid with his gps. “It is moving Northeast at about twenty.”

“That puts the path in this area.” Donde nodded. “We can be in position for a good shot.”

“What are you looking for?” Steve asked, looking out at the sky.

“That line of clouds? I am betting there is a twister in there, somewhere.” Richard pointed. “Down low, where we can’t see as it moves this wa…”

“RICH!” Scott yelled. “Tornado on the ground, East Weather Agency just announced it! Fifteen-miles east of the county line, moving northeast.”

“Steve, you are going to stay with us for a bit. Turn the heat up, enjoy the warmth and pull on any of your dry things.”

“I don’t have anything dry.”

Donde laughed, unsurprised.

“Dude, my jacket is back there, with all the different numbers on it?” He spoke with a slight Puerto Rican accent. “Go ahead and wear it. Warm up, seriously, you look cold even in my mirror.”

“Thank you.” Steve registered this as an irrelevant offer on the part of the man. Nothing else to do with any part of his job. It was a kindness to a stranger that was unexpected. This American, Donde, had no reason to do this action.

The memory core management system created a new file for review later. Date, time, air temperature and processor core thermal levels. It would be transmitted later with the other details he would learn on his travels later. He would gather information on United States Air Force and Marine bases as he traveled north, later in the week.

Donde pulled into the parking lot of the truck-stop with Scott calling out numbers and running the geo-mapping software on his displays.

“This works out, Donde, pull up. We don’t have another good vantage for a few miles. Rich, you have as good of a view as we can get from here.” Scott tapped on the virtual display, using tactile induction. He could feel the cursor under his fingers as he moved the pointer around.

“Rotation, we have rotation in the atmosphere, coming directly at us. Wedge, Rich, get out there! It will be visible in a moment.” Scott yelled. “Vector change! It is turning north. It will miss us.”

Donde and Richard got out, grabbing at equipment that was under their passenger’s feet.

“Steve! Sit in the front, we need to get to the camera and run some cable.” Donde said, taking the cold hand of their passenger and pulling him out.

“Dude, you are seriously cold. Go into the café and gets something warm to drink.” Scott smiled. “Tell them to put it on our tab, we’ll be inside with you in a few minutes for safety.”

“Yes, thank you.” Steve said and walked across the parking lot while he could hear a faint siren in the distance.

A middle-aged woman stood at the window and looked out.

“James, I think it’s gonna miss us. Looks like it is hanging a left and following up north. I think it will get close to the base up the road.”

James walked out from the back, dressed as a waiter, his stress was visible on his face.

“My wife is there, she just got a promotion.” He wrung his hands. “Tell me they would be safe.”

“James,” The waitress noticed Steve as he sat at a table and stepped towards him. “The base is probably safer than your home.”

“Hi! Welcome to Lug’s. What can I get you.” She had a winning smile, but was showing age early in her life. No more than twenty, she had wisps of grey in her raven-black hair with traces of forehead wrinkles on her dark-brown skin.

“Coffee, white, sweet. Three eggs, scrambled and shredded potatoes, please.” He put a fifty-dollar bill on the table. “In case the storm comes, you can bring me the change later.”

“Hun, you can keep it for now. If the storm comes this way, it’s on the house, I wouldn’t be able to balance my drawer.” She laughed and walked off to put his order in.

Contact recorded: American female rejected the free money offering. Registered a conflict with his contact of the corrupt and greedy society. The programming was incorrect.

His fuzzy logic circuit subroutines registered the conflict, flagging it as an error and began adaptive corrections.

Steve Aldin, the android, learned something new.

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One Christmas Night-Stand (NSFW)

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One Christmas Night-Stand

 

 

 

1.The Party Planner

Rose had prepared for the office Christmas party for months, now only days away, they were a bit short on funds. Taking donations, working with the social committee, the weather was turning cold and Halloween had passed. Much to the chagrin of one of the managers. Longer hair than what the company owner liked, Thaddeus Harrison “Teach” Harte was the owner of the copper hair that hung down to his shoulders was eye-catching no matter where he was.  The Van Dyke facial hair and green eyes made him look like a refugee out of some novel of musketeers or pirates.  His penchant for hats was well-known.  Beret’s, an archer’s cap with a feather in it, a straw hat in summer.  He was known to compete in archery and had the muscular build of an athlete that he was.

His green eyes made women that worked with him think of the naughty things that they whispered to each other during their coffee breaks.

 The only complaint that any of them would talk about, his choice of clothing that was always black. But his work pants were always tailored properly and on jeans day he wore black, tight jeans that every woman enjoyed to watch as he took care of troubleshooting problems with printers and net connections that mysteriously cropped up for the women when he was so dressed. If he knew, he never let on that he was aware of the rules of the game.

Although he did seem to bend over a lot more and closer to desks for no reason when those days had arrived. Much to most of the women’s enjoyment – and some of the men, too.

 Rose always found her eyes following him as she approached him with a printed sign to put on his office window for  donations to the upcoming Christmas party. 

 “Teach, could you donate some money for the company party? Mr. Caleb has donated most of all we need, but we need some small things to decorate with.  Mr. Caleb has paid for an open bar and the party room at the hotel, but nothing else.”

 She noticed today he wore glasses instead of his contacts, behind his glasses his eyes crinkled a little in a smile. 

 “I have just the donation for you. Last week you know I competed in the year-end archery tourney and I came in third. The third-place prize was twenty-five hundred, cash. It is yours.”

 “Oh my.  Teach. I could not…” 

 “Take it. It puts me over some tax issues, so if I give it to  a good cause, I can just deduct it. So I think a donation to our companies Drive For Kid’s Cures, I can do good on both ends.” Teach smiled. “I’ll talk to Mr. Caleb and have him use that money to buy decorations and such for good will of the community.”

 “Thank you!  You will get a special recognition for this.”

“Not necessary,” He chuckled. “just throw a good party.”

“Oh we will! We will!”

 

 

2. The Party

Weeks of planning and the day finally arrived only another hour before the half-day ended and the Christmas party started. The ginger musketeer brought in a bushel of mistletoe and was hanging it up everywhere.  When asked where he got so much, he only replied.

 “I climbed few trees.”

 Doubting laughter followed when he described his adventures, until Tyree Hayburt showed photos on his cell phone of Teach climbing trees and harvesting the fresh mistletoe with a pole saw.

 One woman, after she stared at the image for a moment, caused a commotion when she commented that he was up in a tree in just a t-shirt.

 A few laughed at the misunderstanding. The t-shirt he wore was black, matching his pants, giving the impression he wore a black jump-suit. But his arms! 

She commented that his arms made a woman dream what it would feel like to be in an embrace with such arms.

The phone made the rounds with the office women and Tyree did not get his phone back until the battery was screaming for mercy.

But Teach struck a handsome image. Fingerless gloves, standing in a tree with his feathered cap while he trimmed a large growth of mistletoe off an oak tree.

 Many of the workers looked at him now as he stood on a ladder and taped, pinned, stapled the green plant all around the dance floor.

It appeared that he was intent on having kisses exchanged everywhere in the party.

 Rose laughed at Teach’s personal mission and pointed out to him that he still had a large amount left over. 

 “Well, I do need to show care. Each sprig is worth a kiss, right?” Teach smiled conspiratorially. “So, I worry about overdosing the magic if I put up too much. I mean, a single sprig is worth a simple kiss. How much is small a branch worth? A passionate kiss? More? How much would a large branch be worth? It’s tradition, you know. This is why children are born in late August and into September.”

“It’s a good thing I brought some condoms in my purse.” She whispered back. Enjoying his shocked look and a touch of color to his ears as he turned away, laughing with embarrassment.

Rose cackled quietly to herself, catching the beautiful T. H. Harte in a bomb like that. But then, she had already had tipped the bottle in the kitchen with the Irish Coffee’s that MaryJo had made.

The best part of the day so far had been the drinks that Alice poured.  Hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps with a cinnamon stick floating in it. Rose poured some Irish coffee into it and made a killer mocha that was making her feel happy.  Extremely happy.

Looking at the clock.  It was nearly noon, the party was due to start in a few minutes. The smell of lunch was wafting through the office, roast beef and ham, chicken and even a turkey roasted in the company kitchen.

Rose walked off, she had done the job she set to do.  The party was starting and she had an Irish Snuggling Mocha calling her name.

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3. To The Victor Go The Spoils

At noon, everyone filed in. It was a short walk to the hotel and those that had drinks and snacks all morning were already feeling the effects of such mid-winter cheer. There was Christmas in the air and no functional work, even the boss, Mr. Caleb, had not accomplished much, except to drink and mix drinks in the kitchen. Even as he lead the group across the hallway, he did not quite stand up straight. But he was still talking clearly, blaming his unsteadiness on his bad knee.

At the head of the tables, Caleb stood and spoke, giving out generous bonuses. A thousand dollars for every year of employment, a few joke gifts and then announced food, finally, was served.

The dance floor was lit and the music boomed, MaryJo walked up behind the office archer and pulled Teach (as she was slurring his nickname a bit) off his stool and out onto the dance floor. As they walked and swayed to the music, MaryJo noticed that “Teach” had an eyepatch on.

“Oh my god! What happened to your eye?” she leaned into him, pressing her barely contained breasts against his taut body while he snaked sinuous arms around her. More to hold her up than to dance with her.

“Nah.  I walk into and out of lighted areas, this little flash dance area would blind me if I was to walk into a dark room for a drink.  There is a show across the way with an stand-up comedian I might want to go see. Starts in an hour. I wouldn’t be dazzled in one eye this way, it’s an old pirate trick.”

“Mmmm…” A voice came in from behind them. “You can plunder my booty anytime, ginger-snap.” Rose had walked up behind the dancers and handed a drink to MaryJo.

MaryJo and He laughed.

“I think I need to go get another drink.  The bartenders here make these drinks too weak.” MaryJo winked and walked off, one over-sexed divorced woman leaving him with another over-sexed divorced woman as the two double-teamed him.

Suddenly feeling like an endangered species, Teach Harte smiled and headed back to sit down at a a table where an electronic game of greedy-greedy could be played until the music ended.

Smiling as Rose sat with him, the waitress walked over and asked what they would like.

Ron Abuelo Centuria, neat please.  The bottle, too.”

“Sir, you do know that the bar is open, but it only covers well drinks.”

Slipping the barely dressed cocktail waitress two bills of paper money with Benjamin Franklin on the front, whispering to her “Keep the change.”  She smiled widely and sashayed away to the bar.

Together they sat and talked.  Starting with the office work before he leaned over to Rose and whispered to her ear.

“I am making a rule, no more shop-talk.”

Rose laughed softly and nodded.  Looking down at the table that they sat at, a computer controlled dice game.  Gaming levels  listed on the display of:

[  ] G

[  ] PG

[  ] R

With one level listed as an extra cost to play:

[  ] X

“Which level would you like to play?”  He asked as he slid his card through the reader, tapping in his identification number.

Rose looked over the game, not knowing how to play, she was not about to miss out on anything.

“Let’s go with X.”  She said, here brown eyes twinkling in the strobe of the dance light.

Another voice behind them, “Can anyone sit here?”  It was Robert Hershey with his very pretty wife, who wearing a naughty lady Santa outfit.  Not quite slutty, but it danced along the edges of the term. When asked about it, Barbara would say “This is Sexy Elf, Slutty Elf did not come with a vest, only two bells to hang on each side.”

The game started with number of players and their names.  The greedy-greedy seemed draw people like a magnet, a new style of game that had started in an online virtual world,  had spread to real world with small changes.  In this case, the numbers of the dice indicated the clothing that the players would  bet.  On the menu it showed a listing of “Slow”, “Medium”, “Fast” and “Waste No Time!”.

The game started and the holographic dice spun and indicated the score.  In two rounds, the scores were showing that Robert was ahead and his wife was in a very distant last place.

Another roll and it was Teach’s turn, and it indicated to spin who the paired couple would be.   The menu  selected had no gender specifications.  A spin and showed that Barbara had to give a deep kiss to MaryJo.

A gasp! Would they do it, the group got quiet for a moment, then Barbara stood up and stepped over to MaryJo and straddled her lap.  The players were given a show of a serious, passionate kiss to MaryJo who slowly slid her hands over Barbara’s body, lightly playing with her breasts as the kiss drew on longer than a minute.

Buy the time that Barbara stood up, her nipples were visibly erect and she walked unsteadily to sit back next to her husband.   Then it was Robert’s turn.  His challenge was unhook Rose’s bra with one hand and leave the garment in place.  Rose, blushing at this, stood and held Robert in an embrace that was sensual while she found his lips with hers.  The kiss was slow and sensual, but for Robert it was an effort in an abject failure as he could never get the bra unhooked.

As the loser of the game-driven command, Robert had to remove his shirt. Slightly overweight, it was still obvious why Barbara found him attractive.  He even had a tattoo of her name on his shoulder with the names of their children.

Turns became more sexy as others would join around them at other tables as they played on.

As the game wore on, Barbara advanced higher and Robert lost ground, no longer the leader he had lost major points on the game.  Robert lost another roll and was required to perform an oral sex-act on Rose who sold the act to Barbara for a good price.

The holographic representations of the characters were in various states of dress. Teach’s avatar was down to its digital underwear, when he spun one more time.  The arrow landed on Rose and then the dice was between them.

Teach rolled a sixteen of a thirty possible on the dice.

Rose rolled twenty-one of thirty.  “Rose wins!”

Then the selection menu came up.

“Questions or Actions”

Rose selected “Action”.

A roll of the dice again and Teach rolled  again.  Four twos, eight points out of thirty.

Teach was in trouble.  His last roll of a six did not help him greatly. Fourteen points of thirty possible.

Rose would only have to play a conservative roll.

Her first roll she hit three fives that she could keep. Leaving two dice left to roll.

Already it they wondered what she would be offered by the machine and what would be selected.

“A slow strip dance on the table by your partner.”

“A night in heaven.”

“U-turn. Select another partner.”

“Slow Naked Kiss.”

The group’s women laughed.  The sound of clinking came from across the table.  Teach was pouring his glass full.  The pressure was getting to him.

Rose selected “Night in Heaven.” and hit “roll”.

“12 hours with your partner who must do everything you request of them without question.”

“Oh my gosh,” Teach nearly shot rum out his nose. “for twelve hours?”

“No sleeping!”  The laughing voice came from across the table was that of MaryJo as she kissed   Robert with great passion.

Sending a text message to Teach, Rose  messaged, “I think MaryJo, Robert and his wife are working on a 3-way.”

Reading the phone, Teach nodded smiling. Messaging her back. “Elf power.”

Rose laughed.

A roll, Teach just could not get any love from the machine. The score eliminated him from the game and Teach sat back with his arms crossed.  A common position that he would stand in. Rarely smiling at work, this evening at the party, with a half-bottle of two-hundred dollar rum in him, he was quite jolly.

Suddenly, the game was over!  Robert failed his roll and suffered the eliminatation leaving only MaryJo and Barbara in her sexy elf outfit when Barbara’s roll was a perfect thirty.

In a single roll at the end of the game, Barbara selected from the menu.

“Action”

MaryJo had to go spend a night in heaven.

Getting up, the group laughed at the naked holographic avatars on the table with the naked version of Barbara jumping up and down in her place on the game board.

Teach walked past the registration desk and looked out the window and motioned Rose over.  Several other Christmas parties were going on all over the building and many were leaving.

The street, lined with red and blue lights of cars driven by law enforcement pulled drivers over by the two’s and fours.

“Three hundred rooms per floor, fifteen floors, and people want to drink and drive home?  That is bad thinking.” He said and Rose nodded.  “I’m staying here tonight.  How about you?”

“Well, I have no one at home waiting for me.  I have an hours drive.  So I am staying, too.  With you I think.”  She grabbed him by his eyepatch and pulled him into a long kiss.  His hands found what Robert’s could not during the game.  She had on a front-hook bra and released it simply by sliding his hand over her breasts.

“Good and well.” He whispered and walked to the registration desk.

4. A Night In Heaven

They stepped off the elevator and out into the hallway.   Robert was visible as he fumbled with the key card.  Barbara and MaryJo were in a very sexy and sensual clinch.  The way that the vest moved on Barbara’s body, it was obvious that it was a very busy night in the hotel and in that room, busy was the night’s entertainment.  Teach and Rose walked the opposite way and down to a suite that the company had reserved for employees.

“Mr. Caleb was very pleased with business this year.  Everyone gets a suite at a steep discount, but you have to ask for it.”

Taking Rose by the hand and lead her to the bedroom.  Wobbling slightly from his rum and she with her wine, they slipped into the bedroom where he sat on the edge of the bed. Standing close to him, his hands gently slid up the inside of her blouse, caressing her hardening nipples. They spoke no words  for there were none needed.   This was the plan ever since she had joked with him hours before.   She was nearly sure they would have had a third, but she did not press the thought.

She wanted him all to herself tonight. Her blouse slowly removed, as his lips found her nipples.  A gentle sucking over the razor sharpness of his incisors, he sucked air slowly over the moist flesh as it puckered hard enough to scratch glass. 

Gasps of pain/pleasure escaped her lips.

“Sorry.  Did that hurt?”  He looked up with a twinkle in his eye.  He was not sorry.  But her own  voice betrayed her.

“Oh god no… that hurt, but it is a good hurt.  Oh god that was good… please…more.” She pulled him back to her breasts again.

Looking down and watched him tease and bite her nipples.  The thought struck her and reaching down she pulled on his shirt, forgoing the buttons, she pulled the cloth up and over his head. It was a fine shirt, it felt like silk as it slide over his broad shoulders easily and revealed what she had gossiped about in the kitchen with MaryJo.

She slid her hands over his back as he traced his tongue over the valley between her breasts and down to her belly button. Light kisses on that so-sensitive skin just below the dimple of her navel while he unbuttoned her skirt and slid it down over her hips.

Slowly, piece by piece, they shed their clothes until he whispered to her ear.

“Let’s move up to the pillows.”  Softly he had whispered, but the glint in his eye was as loud as thunder.

Rose crawled backwards  on hands and feet. Her heart beating in her throat, she could feel the wine swishing around in her.  He had consumed more than half the rum, she had put down two bottles of a chardonnay, two snugglers and one Irish coffee… at least two snuggler drinks, she was trying to think, when his teeth raked the inside of her left calf. His hands sliding up her bare thighs.  In a hysterical thought she was thankful she had just gotten waxed the day before, the laughter escaped her lips and Teach smiled at the sound.

His mouth touched the inside of her left thigh, then the right as his slow bites alternated sides..  Sucking against her skin on each side, she was almost laughing with the thought of bite marks on her skin there and if they might be visible when …or if..she wore a skirt, pants was  the order of clothing for the near future.  But each bite made her ache to have him inside her.

Tracing fingertips over the bare labia that was slowly opening to him. The tip of his tongue slowly trailed over the flesh of her pubic mound.  A slow puff of breath, the damp trail of kisses he left chilled her skin with a thrill that had not been done to her before.

Rose gasped as she ran her hands through his hair.  His hands found and slipped up under each ass-cheek and lifted her to his mouth. His teeth finding her swollen and damp clitoris.  The sharp teeth holding that bit of flesh between them as he pressed against the pubic bone.

And then… Then he hummed! The sound entering her body through flesh and bone. Going through the scales, he hummed a tune until he hit that one tone, it seemed to start in her clit, through her core and into her mind.  The very heart of her body seemed to spasm in one mind numbing orgasm as her pelvis bucked against his face.

Rose gasped in the skin tingling post-orgasm as he kissed his way up her body.  Sucking gently on her left nipple, then on her right nipple he rolled the flesh between his teeth while sucking air over the tender flesh.

Sliding up her body, his erection pressed against her, kissing her lips, sharing the taste of her sex on his lips with her.  His hardest part found her softest as he entered her gently and slowly, arching his back as he pressed in.  His erection entering her labia, he pulled back after an inch.  The large diameter of the cock forcing open her love-hole.

“We should.  Oh god.  Put on… Mmm, that’s nice.  A . Oh! A Con… Oh my god!  Con..OH! Yes! Rubber! You are going to get me pregnant, I don’t want to be pregnant… We need… Oh! Forget it!”  She moaned into his mouth as they kissed. “Oh.  God. Please. Fuck me!”

Pulling her legs up, locking her feet behind his back as her fingernails raked his back, leaving red scratch marks along the length of his back as she sucked on his tongue.

Pushing deeply into her, the pain of his entering her was a burning pain.  This intensified her driving lust, forgetting all outside worries. She thrust her hips up to meet his push.  Intensity of his kisses, flavored with her sex was still infused in the kisses.

Rose pulled his head tightly to her for the kisses that were so delicious while he pushed the whole of his organ deep into her, pressing against the back wall of her vagina, he touched the deepest part of her. Her lover’s balls bounced off her ass as he pressed her into the mattress of the bed.

Teach broke the kiss for a moment, gasping.

“I just need to say something.”

“What?” She asked softly, with had a crooked smile.

“Oh god…I’m cuming!” He moaned as his body went into spasms. His seed filling her with each twitch that she could feel.

Rose held him to her, kissing the side of his face as he gasped for breath. Lightly stroking his body.

Deep inside him, he began to laugh and twitch.

“That tickles.  Please… Oh please stop!” He said laughing.

They lay in each other’s arms for several minutes, kissing.  His softened member slipping out of her as they continued to explore with hands and lips.   Of touching and traces of tongue and fingertip.  Raking sensitive flesh and enjoying the laughter of the post-coital Celt in her arms. Rose smiled widely at his body’s reaction to her touch.

They lay next to each other, him lightly caressing her breasts.  Kissing the puckered flesh of her nipples and the soft curve of her neck. She touching his hips and sliding her hands down, taking his flaccid organ in her hands, the slightly sticky fluid she found with her hands, brought up to put on his lips and then kissed those beautiful lips clean.

A few minutes passed and another erection began to grow, much to her enjoyment.

He chuckled then gasped as Rose traced her fingers over the swollen length of flesh under the thin material. Seeing his cock for the first time, the tumescent organ was not very great in length, she could use both hands to cover it, but it the diameter was massive, her fingers could not close around the organ as she explored his naked sex.

He made little sound as she teased his hard shaft with her fingernails and gently traced the tip of her tongue around the barb of the glans. Pleased with the sound of his soft moaning, her mouth closed over the head of the shaft and she began to stroke in counterpoint to the motion as she performed a fun tease of oral pleasuring to his body.  His body bucked which made her laugh softly.

“Did that hurt?” She smiled.

“Oh god! N- no.”  Teach gasped with a touch of giggle.  She could feel his pulse in his massive shaft as she slid her mouth slowly down it while pulling up with her hand.

Rose put her hand on his naked belly to hold him still, a sudden upward thrust would choke her as she held him in her mouth.  He laughed as she raked her fingernails along the inside of his thighs. Rose explored the glory of his body as she slid off her panties and sat astride him, pressing the head of the shaft against her clitoris and began to ride up and down.  Not allowing him any entry no matter how he was begging her.

“Oh damn… Please… “  His whispers were of near agony as she teased his scrotum as she rubbed her body up and down over the corona around the glans of, what Rose decided was, a beautiful penis as she used the man-probe as her personal sex toy.

Each stroke as he played with her thighs and cheeks of her bottom, served to drive the passion in her soul higher and with more intensity until the orgasm that she strove for. Holding his erection against her clitoris, she reached a point that Rose was unable to control her movements.

“So close…” She moaned but had to put her hands on his knees for balance.  His erection pushing against her belly.

“Turn around.” he whispered as his hand slide under her backside and traced over her labia.  Teasing her further for the missed orgasm, the entry of her body was slippery with her personal moisture.

Smiling, she turned around and stretched her body full length along his, enjoying the sensation of his erection pinned between them.

“Are you enjoying yourself? “ She whispered as she reached down between them and stroked his hard shaft.

“Very much, we have much more to go.  We are not finished yet, lady.”  he laughed softly as she sat back up astride him.

She slowly stroked his erection with both hands.  A little scary that the thickness was so that she could not close her hands fully around it.

“You want more?” She bounced lightly on his pelvis, her breasts swaying hypnotically as teased  her nipples.

“Mmm… Come here, let me kiss those beautiful nips.”  Teach laughed as she complied.  “You have beautiful breasts.”

Rose gasped as he took her into his mouth.  “Thank you…”

Feeling him lift his hips up, she lowered hers down to his, guiding the head of the twitching muscle to the wet labia.  Sliding slowly down over the head, she felt the organ enter her and stretch her flesh as he entered her.

A little at first, it was too tight to fit without the sensation of burning.  The skin surrounding her orifice complained at his intrusion into her body.

“Oh my god you are so big.  I still don’t know how I could fit you.”  Rose gasped as she rode up and down.  Each time she slid him in, it was a little deeper. Almost half-way down the shaft she was certain he could not get any more inside her in this position.

Laughing softly. “It will fit, it was there once. You are in control.”  Then pulling her for a deep kiss, he thrust upwards as she slid down.  Pulling her ass close to his pelvis, the thick penis slide its full length into her, pressing against the back wall of her chamber.  The pressure against her womb with the head of the  shaft.

“Oh…. god.” She moaned into his face, sliding her tongue into his mouth while the walls echoed with the soft sounds of  their bodies slapping together as she rode him until he began to tremble.

“Shh…” Rose stopped moving for a moment..  “Not yet.  Hold it.  Hold.  You don’t get to cum before I do.”

“Oh god.  I can’t.”

Rose sat back, holding him inside her.   The sensation of the head of his organ bumping against her cervix excited her as she rode slowly. She enjoyed watching him, watching her.

Teach put his hands on the mound just above her clit, stroking the little cum-button with his thumbs in a small circular motion.

“Oh.” The shock of his thumbs pushing the hood back over her bit of flesh was as an electric shock in her heart when his hands changed positions, holding her by her hips.  He thrust upwards in her  and held still.  Keeping her still as she tried to keep riding his shaft.

His body bent in an inverted “U” for a moment.  Rose did not realize the moment had arrived as he moaned in the spasms of orgasm.  Semen flowed into her at more than twenty-feet per second from the tip of his love muscle.

Smiling at him as he relaxed.  Rose leaned full length on his body and relaxed.   His seed slowly leaking out of her as he kissed her face.

“Mm…that was not bad.” She smiled as she kissed him again.  “For a second time.”

Laughter faded as she kissed him, her slim body relaxing on his.  She slipped him out of her and  slid off to his side.  Going to sleep with  her head on his shoulder and a leg draped over his belly.

The morning would deal with the morning issues.

 <Fin>

Married by Mistake Chapter 51. Watching the Bay

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Chapter 51. Watching the Bay

*Homework!*

*Ugh!* She had cottonmouth from the awkward sleep position on her tablet. In a moment she laughed when she sat up. She left a face print on the smooth, high gloss finish of the computer’s screen. *So much homework! Not enough coffee!*

Every night. Kaylee had not taken time to smoke even one bowl in two days. She sketched every day and, after the first few days, it brought her no joy. A still-life of the bay from her balcony, then she went to the beach and painted there.

One late afternoon the memory of Glenn returned in a blast of fury, in a heated moment of inspiration she threw sand on the paint, before it dried, unable to rework the image, she displayed it in class.

She expected Doctor Fayse to reject the sand-textured painting out of hand, but he instead gave her extra points for the painted colors and strokes of the brush and sand effect, giving the feeling of emotion of anger and rage that she had created.

Rage?

Yeah. Oh yeah, she was angry. She kicked Tom out of her life in favor of Glenn.

And then Glenn screwed the pooch on that subject. Samantha, too for that matter, and his life.

That he could not see his way to keep his DNA in check, really did not hurt.

*It’s that he is, rather was, supposed to be my best friend, too. He should have talked to me, not just give a half-limp kiss and never say a word about a pregnant wife.*

*Yeah, he screwed his life up, all right.* She kicked an innocent stick of wood on the ground hard enough that the little driftwood twig skipped across the parking lot. *But so did I.*

Tom was overdue in the bay and she was unable to keep away from his website. It was no help, just an information page, no “Contact Me” information, there was no way for her to email him.

Georgia closed his email that she had in her phone, after he dealt with that agent, it looked like he signed with another company and there was no direct contact with him through that web-site either.

Never in the news and the events on his web page were out of date and ended with Doctor Manga’s installation at Cambridge University in the UK.

Still, everyday she went to the beach with an occasional drive past the airport, but the closed football-field sized hanger doors looked as if they had not been used and there was a noticeable lack of activity around the building.

Another week dragged past and the wet season was coming, she would go home for Christmas soon and Tom’s plane still had not returned.

Early Saturday, Kaylee was in a deep sleep and the sun had not yet come up. She had spent her Friday night in deep study and memorized her half-dozen assignments and typed her class reports on each with an original point of view as required by the professors.

Seven hours a day in classes, another four-hours at home on her computer, another shift at the beer and ribs cook-house. She felt overwhelmed, as so many college students do.

She had nightmare dreams of the reports when her phone rang, saving her from being attacked by a anthropomorphized, giant report on an artist that she could not recognize. She was thankful for that save.

It was Melanie. She loved her sister more than anyone in the world at that instant.

‟Mmph. Hel-” Kaylee yawned and dropped her phone on her face. ‟Lo? Melanie ?”

‟Tiny! I found him!” Melanie was wide awake. ‟I know where Tom is!”

‟Whath timeish ish it?” Kaylee was almost incoherent. She had not slept well, then it had hit her in last night’s studies and she slept like the dead without any sleep aid or to cook hash-brownies to assist in her stress. “Tom? Who’s you talkin’ ’bout?”

‟It’s quarter of three. Why are you sleeping? You are always up at this time.”

‟Not th’ last four days… Mel, I was asleep, issa ya drunk?” Kaylee slurred her words as if she had was drunk herself. “Wha’ di’ you say about who? Wha’ Tom?”

‟No! Noooo…I have been on the hunt for Tom.” She sounded like she found a gold nugget after a long search. ‟You know I had Steven check some things for me?”

‟Sheven? Ahem..Steven? Th’ Stalker?” Kaylee interrupted. “Wonder” *yawn* “Ful. C’n I g’back sleep now?”

‟Not a stalker.” A pause as her sister contemplated the conversation. ‟Okay, well, maybe I am. But it’s for a good cause!”

Kaylee laughed while she balanced the phone on her head and pulled her arm under the blanket while her younger sister babbled news about a guy named Tom and his travels.

‟Did you hear me? He is in Australia.” Mel said to her sister in a sad tone of voice. ‟Aw. Kaylee, I think he has moved there.”

‟Moovmmph… Moved there?” Kaylee ‘s brain did not register the conversation still.

Then she blinked and stared into the dark.

She was wide awake with a sudden rush of thoughts.

“You mean TOM? My Tom?” She said loud enough and had to grab at the phone. ‟Tom has children’s books published there. Southern Oz.” 

‟Where?” Melanie did not catch what her older sister said.

‟Australia, he called it Oz a lot.” She did not want to wake up this much, but now she was awake and not happy. ‟Can I sleep? I need to sleep. I’m too awake, I don’t wanna be awake.”

‟Well, you need to stop by that hanger and go ask. Not just drive by.”

‟I won’t stalk him.” Kaylee said, she struggled to dive back into sleep and try hard to forget that screwed up chapter of her life.

‟You’re not a stalker if you’re worried about him.” Melanie said in conspiratorial tones. ”I was worried. You remember the look on his face when you and he were here?”

‟I remember you squeaked like a mouse and fell off of the sofa.” She grumbled and snuggled back under the blankets.

‟That never happened. He startled me.” Her sister was defensive. ‟But he did have a big smile. Tiny, you made a happy man.”

‟You just want me to hook up with him again.” She mumbled. “Melly, I’m going back…”

‟If you don’t, I will.” Melanie interrupted.

“…to sleep.” Kaylee finished.

‟If you keep on that subject, I’m going to hang up on you.” Kaylee twisted the phone around so the light from the screen didn’t bother her.

‟Okay, I’ll let you go.” Melanie said.

‟Good.”

‟You need to get some sleep, you are a bitch at night.” Younger sisters, sometimes, annoy and Melanie was making it her number-one trait as far as Tom was concerned.

‟Good night, Mel.” And she broke the connection, laughing herself to sleep.

*When she gets older, she will be the most famous busy-body in our family.* Was Kaylee ’s last thought before sleep reclaimed her.

The morning after the phone call. Kaylee walked around in the apartment, off in her emotional bubble. It took two-hours for her to figure out what was bothering her.

That phone call at zero-dark-thirty by her over caffeinated sister who was more insane about Tom than cats were about laser-pointers.

She made coffee in an old-school way of heated up water in a pot, then she poured the scalding liquid over Kona coffee grounds in a single-cup filter.

Not for the first time, she drank her coffee on the balcony and looked towards the picturesque bay.

And not for the first time, she saw only beautiful blue water and boats.

And not for the first time…

She wept.

Married by Mistake Chapte 49. The Good-Bye Girl

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Chapter 49. The Good-Bye Girl

Fourteen days at home flew past with a blur.

Kaylee in the meantime recharged, recovered from her shock at Glenn’s immature life choice, was packing for the return to Ocean Bay University.

Her dad made her laugh. She had sat with him on a home-made bean bag chair while she smoked a pipe for the first time with the man she always thought was without a clue about life for the young generation.

The old man had more on the ball than Kaylee ever gave him credit for. She always thought of him as an IT nerd-tech that was only involved with himself.

Instead, dad liked Steampunk music, knew a thousand things she never thought possible of his generation.

Funny, it seemed the older she got, the smarter he was. In fact she viewed her father, Charles Achilles “CAG” Grant, as brilliant, funny, talented and wise.

She didn’t tell him about Tom, however. She started a dozen times and Dad shushed her each time.

‟Your past is in your behind.” He said softly.

‟What?” Kaylee looked up at the man who was the standard she held all other men to. ‟Dad? What?”

‟Sorry, that’s good weed.” He gave a crooked smile. ‟Put your behind in your past, you don’t need to talk about it just now.”

‟You mean that I should put what on my butt?”

‟No.” Dad was trying for a serious moment but giggled. ‟What is done is history. Leave it there for now.”

‟Okay.” Kaylee smiled and took another hit off the pipe. Her parents always dealt with Anders Schroder with his home-grown. It was the best weed in the area.

Mr. Schroder grew enough of the best cannabis to sell to the retail outlets, but little more than that. Fully licensed and inspected, Mr. Schroder kept the businesses going with only enough income to keep his bills paid. The old man just liked the beauty of the plant and wished to make clothes out of the hemp fiber he grew from other species. Often telling Glenn and Kaylee that it was better than cotton.

The weed relaxed her and made the heartache of Glenn seem so much smaller than it was.

*At least I’m not pregnant! Pretty sure.* She laughed to herself.

She began to think of that last time on the plane after she came home.

Tom was weak from spending so much time in the hospital bed, she had grown protective of the soul that thought he was her protector. He cautioned her heart to avoid what Tom said in gentle words, ‟Complicate things”.

Another few days home.

An argument over who’s toe-sock was left out on the porch with her brother ended with mom telling them to go put on their socks.

Kaylee came out wearing hers and Mike, with one bare foot and looking sheepish.

While the kid-brother learned to do his own laundry, at dad’s insistence to prepare him for college. Another requirement of the patriarch of the family.

Dad did not care what each of the children wanted to do, but he did require that they earned the highest degree of education available for that interest.

A strong preference for a doctorate, and no one dared defy dad on this point.

Kaylee worried a lot about trying to earn a doctorate in fine arts, a tall order. But dad was motivational and insistent.

That afternoon, while she packed to return to Ocean Bay U., Glenn pulled up in his car.

Alone.

He walked up to the door, intercepted by Kaylee .

‟Don’t you have a life to attend to? Does Sam know you are here?”

‟Yes, she knows. Our mom’s were talking and she found out you were leaving today, she sent me with this.” Glenn held out a small gift, a compass with an email address taped to it.

“Sam wants to pursue a friendship with you.” Glenn’s voice was almost a whisper.

Kaylee was still unsure, her heart still ached after that day. She had found a kindred spirit in Samantha Schroder, but still envious at the same time.

She took the offered present with a smile that she did not feel in her heart.

‟I know I hurt you, if I say it was an accident, it would be an insult to everyone. But it was not planned, I wanted to stay with you.”

‟Do not tell me that, do not let Sam hear you say that.” Kaylee on the verge of rage shook her finger in his face. ‟You want to work as a member of congress élite and a senator’s aide? You put on a face of a happy husband and proud father. You did this with her without thought or precaution, now you have a child. You had better love that baby, or I swear I will kick you so hard you it will take a year for your breastbone to heal. And you know I can. If you ever break up with Sam, I will use you for my flow-drills. You don’t get a stick, you just have to stand there and take it.”

‟Then I’ll send my dad after you, he’s pissed at you as well.” She added.

‟I can see that. He’s standing in the window, looking at me.” Glenn voice trembled with more than a little fear.

Charles Grant stood in the picture window with his arms crossed, a stare like a cougar lining up for a kill for a full minute then stepped out of sight.

For a single moment of shining terror, Glenn thought the old man was coming out.

‟I’ll keep in touch.” He told Kaylee. ‟Maybe we can get together then.”

‟No.” She shook her head. ‟We have our own lives, lived our own way and our own adventures. Good-bye Glenn. I’m sorry this is how it ended.”

She hugged him awkwardly and walked back to the house and closed the door quietly behind her.

And leaned up against it and caught her breath. It was the single hardest thing she had ever done in her life.

And she was still standing strong.

‟Everything all to rights, sweetheart?” The measured tones of her dad entered her world, the old man was sitting in his chair. Two glasses and a bottle of his favorite fifty-year-old rum sitting on the end-table.

‟Oh. Daddy…”

She sat in his lap for the first time in over a decade, the twenty-something woman left the room while the broken-hearted child wept on her father’s shoulder.

Pouring a splash of rum in each glass, he handed one to his sniffling princess.

‟A toast to accidents. Without them, we’d never know where we are in life and where our strength lies. Some are happy, some are sad, a toast to them all.”

‟A happy accident?” Kaylee said after she took a sip of the spiced amber liquid and coughed. The ethanol burning her throat.

‟Yes, if it was not for an accident, I’d never have met your mom.” Her dad said with a wink.

‟She said she met you standing in line at a store.”

‟Pharmacy, for pain medication.”

‟Same thing.” She sipped more of her dad’s treasured rum.

‟Who do you think gave me the pain.”

‟What?”

‟She worked as a bookkeeper at an office and I was running cable for a network. Wireless networking was unheard of in those days. While I crawled by a desk, she opened a drawer over my head.” He rubbed his head of the memory of it. ‟I broke the drawer when I stood up, scalded myself when a coffee cup on the desk spilled down my back.”

Kaylee broke out laughing.

‟Oh my god. She never told me that.”

‟And I wished he never did either!” Mom hid her face in her hand, she had walked in from the back of the house. ‟I nearly killed your dad with a concussion and wrecked our new computer system at the same time.”

‟The coffee went into the server.” Her dad added. ‟It was awful, blood and coffee everywhere.”

‟It looked like someone got slaughtered by a coffee machine.” Mom admitted.

‟I was talking about my shirt.”

‟I was, too.” Linda laughed.

Parents and offspring talked for over an hour, mom and dad told secrets on each other from the time before children while they shared the bottle of rum until it was all gone.

It was a good end to an otherwise miserable day. With three hours to go, the Grant family took their eldest princess to the airport to return to her life back in Ocean Bay University.

Not for the first time in her life, she was looking forward to seeing her sister.

*Wait until Melanie hears the news of how Glenn really changed his life up, never to return to the house without a wife and child in tow.* She shook her head.

During the drive to the airport, Kaylee spent most of the trip looking out the window of the car to the trees that lined the highway. Lost in thought over the last two-weeks.

She wondered if she could just take double classes and never leave the school. It would take a meeting with her mentor and class coördinator.

The world was rainy when she arrived, but it was a rain of promise and excitement, it washed away her doubts from the summer.

Now, it was just grey and wet.

Married by Mistake Chapter 46. A Husband’s Terror

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Chapter 46. A Husband’s Terror

The familiar car pulled into his driveway and Glenn finished his chores around town at the request of his mother. After he took the silver platter to the Grant’s house and tackled by Kaylee who nearly gave him a heart attack. He did not look forward to the conversation about his sudden life change that he invited no one to attend.

Sam and he dated on and off. Two months after they had a weekend trip to Canada, Sam began to get sick at every smell there could be.

Eggs, she got sick.

Soup. Any flavor. She got sick.

Pasta. (Pasta!?) Sick.

Toast. (Well, smoke, he did not clean his toaster.) Sick.

So Glenn went with his ill friend with benefits to the doctor, sudden movements sometimes made her nauseated, so he drove.

The doctor smiled and sat down with them, explained that the hyperemesis gravidarum would pass after a few weeks and in the interim they would put her in a hospital and give her some IV fluids and keep her hydrated.

Glenn had to ask the doctor to define the of the name of this arcane illness. His mind refused to accept what the doctor tried to say.

In a moment, the doctor congratulated the couple. It was no virus, it was morning sickness, Sam was pregnant.

Glenn could not believe it at first. He could only see his career  fall into a smokey ruin like his toaster.

Samantha was also a poli-sci major and after hours of tears, they decided to get married. Neither one of them needed to have a scandal.

In his panic he had forgotten his home town while he was in the big-city. He had fixed a flaw in his life.

“So I’m a flaw?”  Sam became furious. No one called her a flaw, she threatened to tell everyone that he would leave her when she needed him most.

It evolved into a scream fest and rash words exchanged. They did not see each other during that week or part of the next. Two-weeks later, while they attended a study group together and sat across the table in awkward silence while they studied with the group.

Glenn finally brought her a glass of water and some saltines, seeing that she was pale and had developed a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

This singular awareness and his effort to keep her nausea under control had gone a long way to get Sam to smile at him again.

By the end of the homework jam session, people got up and went back to their apartments and lives.

Except for Glenn Schroder and Samantha Walshe who talked far into the night and they married in secret the next day in a civil ceremony. Shortly after that, they went off to Washington State and had a small ceremony for her family.

In those panic filled days, the childhood promise he had with Kaylee evaporated.  He forgot the depth and breadth of the years invested and he did not remember any moments of paper cigar rings and motorcycles.

He began to think about his childhood sweetheart about a week after he had done the deed with Sam, when she was changing her name to Schroder while he stood there.

Glenn practiced and readied for weeks to have a long talk and try to keep things on the down-low with Kaylee. Then when she showed up early at her mom’s house and surprised him, all practiced words left him.

But! He told himself, life changes and he and Kaylee readied for each other to have separate lives.

He walked up the steps to his parent’s house unaware of the new car parked on the street. Glenn’s focus consumed with all his thoughts that raced in circles in his mind. He wanted to make things smooth with his best friend, who he had replaced with a new, pregnant wife. When he would get to talk to Kaylee, he would make it sound reasonable that they stay close friends.

*Yeah! That was the way. If I could do what the Senator Mumy did in Washington, who talked his wife out of a divorce and still kept his girlfriend.* He smiled. 

And no one knew but for Glenn who ran errands for them. And the girlfriend began to come on to Glenn.

*Senators and Congressmen shared a lively trade in girlfriends and boyfriends. Congress members would grow tired of their trysts with one and move onto the next. The women in Congress are as bad or worse than the men in Congress.*

The one thing that Glenn looked forward to, have enough petty cash to keep an apartment in D.C. on the side.

He nodded. *This is one thing I have it dialed in, I know Kaylee and I can pull strings with her.* 

He opened the door and stepped through, he had weathered the worst part of the storms, but with any luck? He would still come out with a little fun with a bong and Kaylee and Sam would never have to know about the local party-girl he had on the side.

Then he stopped at a sight that made his heart drop into the pit of his stomach.

In all the world’s history, the things would fill a man with terror and fear for his life.

The Great Chicago Fire…

Terror of being consumed by a wall of flames.

The Great Quake of 1909…

Terror of the very ground that shook without reason.

The Stupid Husband Bust…

Terror? Terror is to stand in the doorway while your girlfriend and pregnant wife sipped coffee, looked at you and invite you to sit.

In the kitchen.

Near knives and other sharp objects.

And boiling hot liquid.

That is terror.

Married by Mistake Chapter 44. Something missing from your mouth

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Chapter 44. Something Missing from your mouth

Home! It made Kaylee happy. There! There at the memorial park where, one summer’s day, she discovered that if she wore her hair down, Glenn would run his fingers through her hair and enjoyed the texture of her curls.

Over there, he invited her to skinny-dip with him at the pond.  But she was still a victim of strep-throat and wouldn’t swim. Instead Glenn just suggested she lay naked on the rocks, which she did! After laughter of that day and she pointed out that her dad would hurt him if pops ever found out, it was good summer memory of that year, too.

The taxi ride was typical of the area, battered on snowy roads and potholes. The cab, strictly functional with a rough ride on studded tires, was normal for the suburban type of taxi.

Home was so close, she could walk it from here. Her excitement was oddly muted.

Her thoughts turned back time and again to the man she left in the rain where he stood alone.

She looked out the window and told herself to shake the fog of melancholy off, Tom would be on the plane by now and be above the clouds far away from her, he was now history. Maybe.

He did have that moment. A look that bothered her. He reminisced with her and it should have made him smile, but he had a look of unfathomable sadness for a brief moment. A deep look like someone who once before stood on the edge of the road to say good-bye and could not bear to do it again. Then he was his quirky self again with a wide smile. 

They had a great summer, but they were careful with each other and honest. Neither she or Tom expected it to last forever.

Kaylee was honest with Tom, she had a promise to keep. She and Tom, until that day at the start of summer, a lifetime ago it seemed. They did not know each other.

He was some random guy on a beach who wrote notes on a tablet computer.

She was a college student that had a really, really bad day.

He was the man that she would have not expected to wake up next to after a night of drink and smoke. *And married!*

It was so unexpected, she had gotten stoned many times and had never had even a hint that she and a date might get married.

*But there’s that sparkle about Tom. A color of soul that I could see even through my wine goggles and pharmaceuticals.* The heart of the matter was her heart, in the grand scheme of the universe, could the heart feel fondness about the strange man in the flying-yacht?

If not for two bits of information.

One: That Tom never asked. Was she with him for the simple reason of his money?

The answer was no, and that she even wondered about herself, it caused her to follow through with annulment of her marriage with Tom in a way that no one knew. Just to prove to herself the honesty of her heart.

And they did not have a pre-nup. His implicit trust her in her heart and soul. That there was no second thought, as if that was even needed. She left that life with her conscience clear, but with doubt in her heart.

And her heart did ache. Excited as for the question Glenn was about to ask, it ached for the quirky humor, adventurous spirit of Thomas Harte, the airship thief of hearts.

Still, she had Glenn, the boy that she first got stoned with, grew up with and had such a long history. Everyone knew that Glenn and Kaylee were best of friends and one day they would be married.

Every mile the taxi drove towards the home she grew up in, her smile widened. She wondered if everyone would be there, except Melanie who stayed behind for the start of early term classes.

The bump of the pothole that had been in the intersection for the last decade brought her out of her introspective moments.

She was home.

The cab driver got out and walked to the back of the taxi. For a moment, she expected the cabbie to open the door for her. Instead he opened the trunk and took her bags out.

Kaylee laughed at herself.

She’d been spoiled!

She pushed on the door and it opened with a rusty groan. A noise that cars get when the hinges exposed to the harsh elements are often stressed with constant open and shut, far beyond those of a normal car.

After he sat the bags on the sidewalk, the cabbie tipped his hat to Kaylee .

‟Thank you, miss.” He smiled as he looked at the bills she gave him and counted an extra twenty.

‟Keep the change and thank you.” Kaylee smiled.

The rain had stopped for a few minutes. By the looks of the clouds and the dark columns that obscured the hills and lowlands, it will rain again in a few minutes.

She gathered the bags up in her arms, she suddenly felt like an overloaded pack-mule — and she packed light!

The humor in the situation tickled her again. She was back home and happy. Soon she would get a big hug from mom’n’dad. Then to see Glenn, if he had not yet arrived at the house.

She had messed up everyone’s schedules, she knew, she took the private jet to an airport that was so much closer, it seemed a wise move.

Dad had emailed her, and he directed her on what was the best airline and the most on time. Her plane would land around dinner time and he would pick her up then. That made her shake her head it began to snow at the scheduled time of arrival on her smart phone if she followed the plans that the patriarch of the family had planned.

Dad’s office was fifteen minutes from the airport in Portland and he would pick her up on the way home. Except that Kaylee was eight-hours early and the airport she arrived at was an hour closer. She would surprise everyone when she walked through the door.

Up the steps, she stood at the doorbell for a moment. Oddly the small, pale mark on her finger where the jeweled band had been the last month stood out in her awareness. It was not very noticeable to the rest of the world, but to her it was a giant flag.

A leftover memory. A good memory, but one that she did not want exposed.

Not just yet, anyway. Mel, her sister, knew, she was the only one in the family aware of any of the events in the past summer.

It promised that an intense conversation with mom in the near future would happen after she unpacked and settled in.

The the first few notes of Westminster chimes sounded when she pushed the button, the sound made goosebumps on her skin that had little to do with the cold, moist air. The mission “Surprise!” was now active.

The door opened and her mom took a moment to register that her eldest daughter stood in front of her.

‟Kaylee!” The elder version of the daughter shrieked and jumped to hug Kaylee . ‟What? Where did you come from? How are you here so early? No one is here. Oh my God! We need to call your dad before he leaves early to pick you up.”

She walked into the house and was assailed by the smell of coffee, the primary drink in the house since before Kaylee could remember. The warm scent was pervasive and tickled her senses with chocolate notes. She was ready for a cup of coffee that her mother would make in a french press and then store the fragrant black liquid in the same kind of insulated pots she used at the cafe’s.

Mom often took the time off to make the coffee at home, too. As the owner of a chain of cafe’s, Linda Grant could take any time off she wished.

‟I only have to work half the day, and it doesn’t matter which twelve hours.” She would often joke. An accountant by her diploma, Mother Grant discovered that she had a strong business acumen and transformed a small, money-pit café into five salary-equivalent coffee and sandwich shops.

Mom’s recent history was a surprise for both of the Grant women as they talked.

Then a pause in the conversation.

“What have you been up to? You’ve arrived home late this summer. Any troubles with classes?” Mom asked.

‟It’s a long story, mom. But I promise I’ll tell you later. Glenn’s car just pulled up in front.” She stood up and hugged her mom and walked calmly to the door.

Then flew off the porch into the arms of what most of the girls in town agreed was the most handsome boy in town.

Glenn Greggory Schroder, president of the student body at Lincoln High School in his senior year. After graduation, he studied to become a congressional page then an assistant, he worked on his voter base so when he ran for an elected office life would be much easier while the he stumped for votes.

Six-foot-tall, blue-eyes of Danish extraction, Glenn, destined in his life to be elected to congress and, in breathless whispers by girls, a governor of the state, or even greater, office.

The friends that knew him, team members from the chess club and the debate team knew that he had a mind as dull as a hammer. But his talent for comeback was whip-quick. He never seemed to let that he was wrong or had the facts twisted ever stop his arguements, then if that did not work he would try to change the one subject to another that he had a handle on.

And he could drink! Only once did Glenn admit that he was even close to a DUI when the police wanted to pull him over after drank beer while home from school.

The officer that had tried to chase them, got hung up in a narrow lane and with a seven-point turn around, he had fallen so far behind that when he pulled into the driveway behind the parked station-wagon, everyone had already exited the car and sat around the pool with drinks in hand.

Unable to prove who was behind the wheel or violations of open beverage law occurred while they were in the car, the officer issued a weak threat that he would keep an eye on them.

In the small Oregon town, the officer always had his eye out.

Glenn admitted to the group, even when Kaylee sat in his lap that he was really too wasted to drive.

This set off a fight between Kaylee and himself.

Still and somehow, they stayed together. But with threats and argument, Glenn never admitted that he had ever did drink and drive again.

He never even admitted that he attended any party in school or on his internship in Washington.

Today, the only admission he had been his surprise at his girlfriends appearance.

‟Hi!”

‟Ohmygod! I have missed you!” Kaylee nearly screamed as they almost fell down into the wet grass of her parent’s house.

“You’re home! You weren’t supposed to arrive until after six o’clock tonight.”

‟I had a chance to catch an earlier flight and surprise everyone. ‟

‟You did that!” Glenn smiled a crooked smile, but there was wrongness about it.

‟Your mouth needs something.” Kaylee said with a sideways grin.

‟What?” The Nordic blue eyes almost crinkled in good humor.

‟My lips!” With that, she kissed him deeply.

The kiss was long and passionate of a couple that had not kissed in a long time.

But it was a troubled kiss. Kaylee pulled back.

‟I thought you would be happier to see me.”

‟I was not ready for you. I have one more stop to make, I need to shop before I come back.”

‟Ooh… Would it be… Oh, I don’t know. Important?” She got to her feet and almost danced in excitement.

‟Oh quite.” Glenn said. ‟I need to talk with you later, after you say hello to your mom and dad.”

‟I have gotten mom, already. Mom just texted Dad when I got in.” Kaylee bounced on the balls of her feet.

‟You have changed up my plans, I have a few stops to make, I was told to drop this server plate off to your mom. She said it is for a ham tonight and needed it.”

Glenn reached in his car and pulled out a silver tray with local names and places etched around the edges.

‟When I come back, you and I will go for a ride downtown.  I need to talk to you.” Glenn said. ‟It’s serious.”

‟Oh.” She smiled but he did not. She refused to let him dampen her spirits or change her course of thought. She took the platter and kissed him, again.

‟I look forward to our talk!”

She watched him drive off, her smile faded to a frown. He acted different. His smile was wrong and his eyes were in a far-away place.

Inside her heart, she worried that he might be in trouble with the law, or maybe he ran afoul of the law in the capital with possession of an illegal substance and was about to be charged or had gotten caught in a undercover operation.

She walked back to the house to give her mom the big platter. A pensive look crossed her face.

The more she thought, the more she worried.

Married by Mistake Chapter 42. Packing

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Chapter 42. Packing

After the exhausting “Unwedding” in Las Vegas, partying with her never-was husband, he dropped her at home, where she sat in her apartment drinking coffee with her sister, Melanie.

The two Grants sat next to each other in the bay window of Kaylee’s apartment on a garage-sale special faux wicker loveseat. They had turned it around to create their own private space while they talked like sisters do.

‟It was amazing, we saw acrobats and a ballet that hung from the ceiling! Tom introduced me to the manager of the casino who let us go back and meet the circus group. A few of them knew Tom from his novels and movies.” Kaylee described with a wistful smile. ‟I’m sorry that you weren’t his sister-in-law for very long.”

Melanie held her sister’s hand.

‟You are on my spank-list for that, but you did the right thing. Glenn has asked about you a lot. He’s made it sound urgent and I know he said he had to go back early.” She nodded. ‟I bet he got an appointment somewhere and wants to take you with him to D.C. to meet everyone.”

‟What about going to school here? I can’t marry him until I graduate.”

‟You would be engaged in that time.” Melanie winked over the cup as she sipped the coffee that she had bought down the street. A ‟Shot in the dark”, black coffee with a shot of espresso that she sweetened with some sugar. ‟You don’t have to run off and get married. Even if you like to do that.” She nudged her sister as they sat and looked out the window.

Sisters, first and always. They knew each other’s secrets and stood by each other no matter what the world came at them with. They might fight with each other, but they were family.

Melanie looked out over at the bay where a large jet floated.

‟It seems strange seeing it from so far away.” Kayley whispered, almost to herself. ‟It’s bigger than most boats.” Her smile widened. ‟Hard to miss with those colors.”

‟Is he there now?”

‟No. He had to make arrangements to move the Sea Dragon. The FAA approved it for flight and Tom needed to have a check up on his arm. He heals fast I think, his fingers don’t tingle anymore and he has movement enough to type without me helping him. He was typing when I left the Wizard at the airport.”

‟So everything is all right there.”

‟Do you know he has so much money that he gets free rooms at casino’s?” Kaylee said wistfully. “That whole thing kind of made me mad.”

‟You told me that.” Melanie brushed the hair out of her sisters face.

‟I am still amazed.”

Melanie smiled. Her older sister had repeated things time and again for the last couple days while she packed to go back home and meet up with Glenn.

*Glenn.* Melanie’s future brother-in-law would be interesting to have around. He would spend a lot of time in the Maryland area as a congressional aide and possibly be elected. *I am not as excited about that as I was about Tom. Politics corrupts so many people with power, money, drugs, drink, parties with temptation everywhere. I have no trust in them, that kind of snake den would cause nothing but trouble.*

Melanie wanted her sister to avoid that kind of stress, and Glenn was good-looking enough to have a dozen girls on the side, and Washington was awash in pretty women and men.

Kaylee leaned on her sister, putting her head on Melanie ’s shoulder.

‟I miss him. I miss Tom.” She said. ‟I did the right thing, Mel, didn’t I?”

‟Yes.” Melanie put her arm around her older but smaller sister and kissed the top of her sister’s head. ‟Glenn is our generation, Tom is almost as old as mom. I looked it up.”

On the volleyball courts, they called Melanie “The Monster”. As the six-foot-tall captain of the volleyball team, she drove her team to back-to-back championships. But now she was a sister. Melanie the Monster loved Kaylee more than anyone else of her generation.

‟I’m taking a flight with Tom to go home. He has some business in Seattle and would drop me close to home, I could take a taxi on the cheap then and surprise everyone.”

‟What business does he have in Seattle?” Melanie ’s quizzical smile tickled Kaylee ’s soul.

‟A book event where he autographs works of his novels for people.” Kaylee got up and refreshed her cup of coffee. ‟He goes to those a lot, like twelve times a year, maybe more.”

‟Headed home in a private jet.” Melanie laughed. ‟You’re spoiled.”

‟Chartered.” Kaylee corrected. ‟Oy! He has taught me that habit. Sometimes, Tom makes me mad and he is not even here.”

Melanie laughed again, harder. Her sister’s tastes in things had changed in the five weeks of being married, rather, not-married according to the government, to Tom. She had become more complex, even her drawing and painting all night had been fast paced and prolific.

Twelve charcoals done in eight hours. Some surreal like Picasso and Salvador Dali. A Monet style drawing of Melanie as she napped on the couch during the night, among the many that she did.

All for her own pleasure.

*If it was pleasure?*  She pondered.

*All passion for sure.*

Some art she created with bright colors and filled a heart with happiness.

Others, blue and sad, a cold pastel of a single heart, alone in a snowy field.

‟I need to get packed,” Kaylee said softly, got up and went to gather her clothes for her trip. “So I can fly with him.”

Melanie tossed back the last of her coffee and smiled.

‟You have a last ride on him?” Winking at her older sister.

‟No, that part’s done. Tom is just doing this as a favor because I am late and he is going north, too.”

‟When is the limo supposed to pick you up?”

‟Anytime, now. It’s a ninety-minute flight to Portland from here.”

‟That’s all?”

‟That’s that Tom said.” Kaylee shrugged. ‟It will be the last time I see him for a month. My classes don’t start at the normal date, they are a later starting class this year. Professor Denton, who is teaching it is in France.”

‟You have Professor Denton? That is cool! She got married to her wife last spring and they are in France on a honeymoon.”

Kaylee stacked her luggage by the door.

‟Yeah, did you see who she married? It was in the paper, her wife is an artist downtown.”

‟Yup! Sculptures are amazing, she even has a bathtub sculpted out of soapstone.”

‟I saw that, shaped like a flower. They want thirty-thousand for it.”

‟I am not going to buy it. Not for that price.” Melanie laughed.

‟I won’t buy it for a tenth that price, it is too much.” Kaylee nodded as she put her toothbrush in the last small bag to take down.

‟You are traveling light.” Melanie noted. ‟You used to go home with almost everything.”

‟I’ve learned a few things this summer.”

A knock on the door and Kaylee answered it. A handsome older gentleman was there, wearing a drivers uniform. It was a driver that she had not met before.

‟Miss Grant?” He asked.

*Ouch.* A sharp pang in her heart when he used her maiden name.  *I had gotten used to being a Harte.*

‟Yes, Just these bags, please.”

The trio walked down the stairs to the street, a midnight-blue limousine waited. It was not stretched like many were, it was more business and less party.

‟Give mom and dad hugs for me. I wish I could go but I need to set up for early starting classes. I’m supposed to have access to the school network, but I’m blocked from logging in.”

Kissing her sister good-bye, Kaylee got into the limousine and the driver clicked the door quietly, leaving Melanie waving on the sidewalk.

For one brief, shining moment, she wished she still wore a ring. A pale band on her skin of her ring-finger showed where she refused to take it off until the very end.

One last time, she looked at the bay, where sat the Pacific Wizard, just before they turned inland to the airport and lost sight of it.

In the front of the limousine, Gulstan the Chauffeur looked in the mirror at the young woman who appeared to weep. Professional that he was, he would never ask.

What happens in his limo, stays in his limo. 

Married by Mistake Chapter 21. Night In the ICU

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Chapter 21. Night in the ICU

The constant, subtle sounds made an undertone that kept Kaylee from a sound sleep. Tom constantly moaned in his drugged-sleep state which further kept her popping her eyes open to check on the wounded man she was growing fond of.

Even with the heavy-duty narcotics in his system, Tom’s sleep was without rest, the arm was kept elevated with external hardware that looked like scaffolding on a building. To help the wounds to heal, wrapped in multiple layers of surgical gauze, the room was too warm for his comfort which kept him from resting and the IV fluids went into his good arm kept him from turning over.

Kaylee was over-warm, too. She could have slept naked in the room and not wish for so much as a sheet. But the compassionate nurses brought a fan in that blew across her to keep her from overheating. She still felt sorry for her husband.

Tom, stuck in one place and, for an active sleeper this was a fresh hell to live through. Plus he slept on his stomach almost always.

She asked the night-shift nurse, a skin-and-bones woman who wore a sweater that had more acronyms and abbreviations on her name-badge than anyone she had met in the ICU, if they could turn the heat down a bit.

“I’m sorry, doctor’s orders, we don’t want patients to have cold-related problems with the injuries, so we keep it close to their body temp in here.” She smiled, the wrinkled face that had seen many shifts and had answered the same question a hundred times, lit up in a comic smile and her eyes sparkled as if she was about to reveal a secret. “I am still cold, even with it as warm as it is.”

The two women hit it off, Elda, was the nurses name, offered to get Kaylee anything she needed during the night, supplying pillows hand over fist and showed her how to inflate the vacuüm packed, plastic covered items without anyone watching.

Kaylee moved the reclining seat and make-shift bed that family members used for sleeping in the same room while loved ones recovered from what life-challenges they recovered from.

Now with the makeshift pile of blankets and pillows closer to Tom, she reached out and held his good hand while she dozed in the chair next to his bed. It was an awkward arrangement, but it seemed to settle the wounded husband and author of children’s books so that he had a quiet sleep.

As his sleep became restful, she would decide that was the best thing she could do, this was the connection he needed to heal.

Starting awake when a nurse came in to check on a misbehaving IV pump, although he slept, Kaylee did not get much rest that night.

*In and out of the room all night,* She shifted in her sleep-spot. *The nurses do their checks on Tom with their rounds and wake me up.*

Like practiced witches and wizards with their practiced motions over complex and arcane machines, the magic fluid that kept her Tom…

There it was again, ‟Her” Tom. What was this that he was to her? What was she to him?

It was almost funny, in a sad sort of way, she thought as she faded to sleep again for the countless time, so tired she missed the next round of checks by the silent ninja nurse.

Kaylee woke up next and the night outside the window had gone from black to a midnight-navy-blue, becoming lighter as she stared at a flock of pelicans, illuminated by the city lights, flew in a “V” formation towards some unknown destination.

Sunrise would be soon and Tom was still asleep, but his thumb was caressing her hand as he mumbled something in a dream.

Not about her, he mumbled a man’s name, and a tear leaked out of his eye. That was odd, why would he dream about a man so much as to mention his name and weep? Then it hit her— it was not a man’s name.

It was his dead son.

Tom was having a nightmare about the night his family died, she choked and thought she might cry for his agony.

She stood and leaned over, a gentle kiss him on the forehead and he took a deep breath and opened his bright eyes.

‟What are you doing awake?”

‟That’s funny you should say that, I think you were having a nightmare.”

‟I was? Yes, I guess so, but I can’t remember what it was about, but I think I’ve been crying, is all I remember.”

‟You were trying to speak, you were saying a name I could not make it out. It sounded like…”

‟No, please. If it was a nightmare and I can’t remember, let’s leave it there.” His hoarse whisper did not sound as ragged as a dozen hours before.

Kaylee gave a soft smile and nodded, he was right. Why make a nightmare more real in the midst of the current waking nightmare of tubes, wires and synthetic fluids that dripped into his arm?

As the sky outside slowly changed from venetian-blue to more azure-grey, the fog seemed to roll in more, fighting the light of the sunrise in a futile effort of resistance against the summer sun. Patches of the dark blues giving way to indigo that surrendered to the cool blues of the new day.

Kaylee would have thought it would be romantic if not for the soft hiss of the oxygen, beeps of the monitors and distant alarms of some demanding pump that had run its course or had an error.

And Tom’s snoring. He had dropped off again.

*Men! They don’t know when to watch something of beauty.*

Another graveyard nurse, Suzanne, a nurse from South Carolina came in and did a last check and smiled at her.

‟We will be going off duty now, we are giving report in fifteen minutes, your next nurse team is led by Randy, he took care of your husband yesterday.” She smiled. “Would you like some coffee? We have fresh made.”

‟Yes, thank you.” Kaylee smiled when the small, round smiling woman walked quickly and quietly out the door. Kaylee never knew anyone who could walk with such silent speed.

She had to get up and out of the way while the men and women in white coats poked, prodded, inflicted pain making Tom yelp and made him wiggle fingers that had swollen during the night. The swelling seemed to make the team of medical magicians worried.

Arcane questions and language were tossed around. Someone poked at Tom’s hand who yelped again and uttered a profanity.

Randy came in after reports had been given and doctors filed in and out.

‟We need to get you breakfast, how did the night go?”

‟Tom had a bad night. Some nightmares just before dawn.” Kaylee reported. “Then the doctors came in and hurt him.”

‟Yes, that happens, they keep to the first rule of medicine, to do no harm. But they can inflict as much pain as they deem necessary.” The nurse chuckled. “Sometimes they get carried away. I think they like test the limits of tolerance.”

“The drugs he gets are known to cause some sleep disturbances.” Randy said with a teacher’s wisdom. ‟Sleeping here, does not help, either. Strange bed, strange sounds, odd smells and pain. Not a good combination, like the old saying, there is no place like home.”

‟That reminds me, how long will he be here? What things do we need to buy to help him heal?”

‟That.” Randy smiled like a hospital’s own Santa, ‟Is the purview of the Doctor, I cannot say. Every time I do, they make a liar out of me and I get in trouble.”

‟When will we see him, again?”

‟Doctor Tribbing? He is making rounds now. You should see him again, maybe with his team in a few hours or so. Right now, we have to take another reading of Tom’s fingers to make sure of the circulation is still there, I can look and see that it is normal color, they left notations that the hand is swollen, and they want to document numbers. So I will be back in with another tool, it’s busy elsewhere at the moment. I read he did well during the night. They took a measurement and the numbers looked good, but his fingers were swollen slightly.”

‟I saw her do that, but I was half-asleep and didn’t ask.”

‟She would have loved to talk to you, she is a wonderful lady.”

‟You two are keeping me awake.” The voice from the bed was barely above a whisper. ‟You know what time it is?”

‟Good morning to you too.” Randy laughed. ‟And yes, I know, I just got here. Your wife is giving me a report on your night, she said it was kind of rough.”

‟Yeah, I couldn’t sleep, I’m a stomach sleeper and y’all don’t have me any kind of close to that.” Tom voice was stronger.

‟Well, talk to the doc. He is the master of this domain.”

‟Okay. And the pin-happy doctor who poked at me was not helping.” Tom took a deep breath. “I’m kind of hungry, too. Is there breakfast?”

‟Sure thing. The menu is on the TV control attached to your bed. Follow the prompts on the screen and the food will make it here as long as you order in the next twenty-minutes.”

‟Okay, I want a pizza from Alioto’s on the Wharf.”

‟Hah. Good luck with that, but our kitchen makes great food.”

‟I’ll buy pizza delivery for the entire floor today.” Tom croaked out.

‟That’s nice of you Mister Harte, but the Department, I think you mean.”

‟No, I mean the floor. And remember, my name is Tom.”

‟The floor has a dozen stations, you are talking a lot of pizza.”

‟Party hardy Marty. Pizza is coming, I need my phone.”

Laughing Randy left the room.

“I don’t think Randy did not believe I can do that.” He laughed. “He does not know Thomas Harte has both the resources and, even drugged as I am, the will to do it.”

“Kay, dial this number for me please?” His voice was stronger, the power of his soul danced in his eyes. She enjoyed looking into those emerald-green eyes of the writer.

She could see what he had in mind and it made her laugh.

*He has a surprise for everyone on this floor.*

Married by Mistake Chapter 18. Frantic Flight

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Chapter 18. Frantic Flight

“Hello,” The woman behind the counter said as Kaylee walked in. “You shouldn’t come in that way. Just so’s you know, that is access to the airplanes only. It is dangerous to cross that way and if the security were to catch you, they are a serious pain in the neck. They can arrest you or make you walk around.”

“Yeah, I have had a run-in with one on the way over here from the Pacific Wizard across the way.” She had learned that sometimes the dropping of the name would open doors for her in some cases. “So I just ran across.”

“Oh! You’re Kaylee .” The counter-woman did not make it a question. ”I just received a call from a limo company in Sacramento that you needed a flight. I must say, that was a surprise to hear about Tom being married.”

“I thought I was meeting a driver here? And… We are not supposed to be married, it was one of those things that happened when drinking. We are getting annulled in a few days.” She laughed as she said it. “We are just good friends that partied too much and did a bit of a dare game that went out of control.”

“Of course.” Counter-Woman said it in a way that it was something she could not quite swallow. “Considering who it is for and that the flight is an emergency need, our only wait is the crew. No on the driver, I have a plane that is ready to depart when you are.”

From The back room, walked a muscular, petite woman with more stripes on her sleeve than anyone else Kaylee had seen.

“My bird ready for flight?” The pilot asked Counter-Woman. “Fueled and serviced?”

“Yes ma’am.” Counter-Woman seemed to shrink a little. Even if the Captain was smaller than she was, the Captain carried the air of unquestioned authority with her.

“What is the ETA of my right seat?” The Captain said in a matter-of-fact way that she expected an immediate answer. “We leave as soon as they arrive.”

“Your first officer will be Rome Oldman today. He is driving time from his home. He called as he pulled out of the garage of his house.”

“Thank you, advise me when he arrives, leave when he walks in. We have a bonus for getting our VIP to destination in less than an hour.” The Captain looked at the clock. “We are going to push the envelope. Where is my VIP?”

“Right behind you.” The flight agent said.

“Oh. Hello.” The Captain extended her hand in a business like handshake. “I’m Captain R. M. Watson. We will be flying as soon as possible. I’ll walk you to my aircraft.”

As they walked through the door, the Captain continued talking as if she was giving a report. “Follow me, please, let’s step on board while I wait for my right seat driver. I received a call from Lettie Nesmith of the Discrete Limo service in Sacramento, Tom’s been in an accident and I’m hired to fly you to Hayward Executive and have you there to meet her limo at the top of the hour. I trust you packed light, you can store your carry-on where the signs indicate there and there.”

“Yes, I packed light, I brought nothing except my purse.”

“Perfect.” Captain Watson said. “Take a seat and settle in, you don’t need to use the seatbelt just yet and I am going to finish my pre-flight checks.”

Kaylee settled in to the closest seat, someone placed the seat belts for convenience to clip on and she did not wait for instruction to do so. She was impatient to fly out and arrive at the airport in the north and the snap of the clip satisfied her need for action. Kaylee could not recall the name of her destination, other than Lettie had set everything up and she wished they were already in the air when she heard Captain Watson’s voice raise while she verbally mauled her copilot.

“DAMMIT ROME! Stopping for a foo-foo coffee on a mission is not acceptable, we’re scheduled to arrive at our destination in fifty-minutes. We are going to push the envelope as it is.”

Kaylee could hear a male voice asking if the package had arrived.

“Package”? She was a package, not a passenger.

“The package is Thomas Harte’s wife.”

“Bullcrap, he’s not married. We would have heard about that.”

“Let’s go, we can talk on the way.”

“No way Mister Harte’s married.” Rome said as he stepped into the sleek jet. “Oh! Hello. You are a passenger, not a package. I’m Captain Oldman, I’ll be your co-captain in the right seat next to Captain Watson.”

“I’m Kaylee , Tom’s wife. Tom’s has had some kind of an accident and is in the hospital in San Francisco.”

“What happened to Mr. Harte?”

“I don’t know, something with his hand. Lettie, the owner of the limousine company called me and told me that he cut off his hand.”

“Oh no.” Captain Watson said, showing emotion for the first time. “Okay Missus Harte, strapped in? Good, hang on, we are pushing the limits of this jet. Our maximum rated speed is mach zero point eight-one, we will be doing all that.”

Moments later, the business jet taxied out to the runway and lined up. Kaylee could not hear what the pilots were saying, but moments later, it was as if someone pulled a trigger and shot them out of a gun, the chartered jet accelerated faster than either the Pacific Wizard or the Flying Sea Dragon. The wheels came off the ground quickly and it seemed as if the diminutive jet sat back on its tail and climbed steeply into the sky. This was a race car compared to Tom’s sky-yacht.

As the ground fell away, Captain Watson turned and spoke loudly for Kaylee to hear.

“Missus Harte, you have a phone call. The phone is on the wall next to you on a magnet mount so you just need to push the gold button next to it.”

“Thank you.” Kaylee said loudly back. Captain Watson nodded and turned back to her guidance of the winged missile as it banked and headed to a northerly course.

“Hello?”

“Kaylee ! You made it, good. I have Kaikane, one of our newest drivers waiting for you. He’s a tall Hawaiian and is well-trained. He will drive you to the California Pacific Medical Center.” It was Lettie, her voice was uniquely embedded in Kaylee’s memory these days.

“The hospital will tell me nothing of Tom’s injury, but the rumor has it that he was carrying a tv out of the plane when he fell. The tv landed on his arm and broke, the glass cut him up.”

“Lettie?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you like Tom’s personal assistant or something?”

“Oh heck no, he can’t afford me. But we are good friends, and he is one of my best customers. Probably the best customer we have. All my family thinks the world of him.”

“But how do you spend his money like the chartered plane?”

“Get-Jet, the company that owns the plane you are on, also thinks highly of Tom. I know the company president and I just gave him a call. It seems weird, but we are all pretty friendly, so we watch out for each other. Tom has had a hand in getting more than a few of us in business, so we all owe him.”

“Wow. You are all friends and do this for each other?”

“Kaylee, Tom’s a tremendous person who spends far too much time alone. Even a philanthropist needs to have friends, even if he doesn’t think he does.”

“Lettie, I don’t know him like you do.”

“You will learn about him.” She could almost hear Lettie smile at the other end of the phone. ”He is someone who had his heart torn out and his soul shattered at one time. I don’t know his history except for what he has told me. But I know what he is like now. When we started the company, we had one limousine, he contracted and invested with us and allowed us to buy our next two limo’s in less than a year. We’ll buy out his investment in eighteen months. Not that we want to distance our company from him, but we, my family and me, we want the company to ourselves.”

“Understandable.”

“You have Tom.” Lettie said softly. ”Kaylee . Keep him. Like it or not I’ll put some pressure on you. He is going to self-destruct if he has no muse to show the world he builds.”

“Lettie, you are a meddler.”

“Yes, I always have been, according to my sister.” Lettie laughed. “I’m not proud of it, but I will always do what is right.”

“Everyone’s mother?” Kaylee asked with a laugh.

“Hah! Yeah, but I can’t have my own kids. So I adopt everyone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Oh no, not that there is anything wrong. I don’t date men.” Lettie laughed. “You’re a good person, too. Compassionate. You match Tom’s spirit, you both are like eagles. You fly together in your souls.”

“I’m not as good as you would think.”

“Well, don’t doubt yourself. You have what it takes.” Then Lettie broke the connection and Kaylee put the phone back in its cradle.

Moments passed while Kaylee looked out the window watching the green of the long state pass by.

*Do I have what it takes to fill the shoes of a wife? The annulment, that’s my goal.*

Then again. There was something about how people stood up to help Tom.

*Maybe.* She pulled at some lint on her shirt. *Maybe I’m looking at this all wrong.*

I love to tell stories, I laugh how they change. How do yours evolve?

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In the Steel Gardens, once again, the DragonMaster University school is on hiatus. Kolo and Jona are still developing their relationship.

The vigilante group with electronic revenge on their minds is also out on the patio sipping their fancy teas and coffees, waiting to have their turn on stage again.

In the meantime, two horror short stories need to be developed and will be part of an anthology book with at least three other authors.

How does your mind work? Do you have multiple stories clamoring to come out? Do they leap out, screaming at you while you sleep or when you are mowing the lawn? Driving down the highway (Being followed by the local police) and unable to pick up the phone to give a verbal notation of the idea that is dancing in your mind is a pain in the ….neck.

Then by the time you get to a point where you can make a note, you can’t remember the body of it, maybe not even the characters.

Ah well, we are writers! Sit for a few minutes, stare out the window or at the screen with your hands behind your head and let the images form behind your eyes..

Then the next day, George becomes Jona, or Ralf becomes Honey.

In this case, I was writing on Steel Gardens.  I have chosen to evolve each Generation as a sub-book, I’ll return to the chapters so to subdivide the Generations. This means a lot of backstory is opened. I just don’t know how far, or if I will just go forward from where I stand in the world I have kludged together.

I may go forward from where Fae and Thea are in the story. But now will be chapters, starting in this chapter.  Generation 2. Chapter 2. Gen 2. will not be mentioned.

How does your story evolve?

Reading back on this, I will post it as is, I have consumed way to much coffee today. 0.0 And I am about to write a three-thousand word babble.  Back to the story…

 

Smart Bomb Chapter 19. Walks Among Us

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Chapter 19. Walks Among Us

The three men pulled up in the public parking structure in Washington, D.C. and began to walk down the street. In six blocks, they reached the closed gate that blocked Pennsylvania Avenue and skirted around the outside of the White House, taking a path to where both houses of Congress sat in session.

A half-mile from the capital, the Thomas Jefferson river, that connected the Tidal Basin to the Anacostia River, dug in the mid-1800’s to float parade boats down the river for the disabled veterans to watch from the lawn as guests of the Senate and House every Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Veteran’s Day and any day the President declared for the those that gave their blood for the country.

During the Nixon years, the construction began on the James Madison Nuclear Power Generation Plant. The smallest ever constructed and dedicated solely to the power of the Capital building and the sub-basements.

Hidden in a commercial storage building, the nuclear reactor used water from the Jefferson River that the plant discharged downstream in a dozen separate sites to prevent anyone detecting a large warm plume of water suddenly showing up in the stream.

The three men walked to the parking area, a man with a security uniform stood in a small building watched them as they approached.

“There.” The young man pointed. And they walked off to the area that he pointed to.

“Here.” And the young teen leaned against the building and bent over in a groan.

“Steve?” Alvin asked, the boy straightened up in obvious pain, his eyes blood-red, his skin flushing deep crimson as if his blood pressure reached stroke level.

His lips moved as if he tried to say something but only a gasp was heard.

“Something is wrong.” Walter said. “Is he supposed to do that? I mean, reboot is a quiet thing, right?”

Alvin only shrugged and shook his head.

Then the boy went limp and sat against the wall.

“We can’t leave him here like this, how long will it take?” Alvin asked.

“You known him longer. You should know.”

The men argued, not seeing the remote cameras that focused on them from six different directions.

“Hungry.” The boy said as four security personnel walked out of a door and headed in their direction.

The boy stood up and repeated his request.

“I’m hungry. Need to rest.” Steve repeated.

“Is there a problem here? We saw him on the ground.” A tall, well spoken security uniform said with a military bearing said. He was of African descent and looked fit enough withstand being shot by a tank round and only have an annoyed look.

“No sir, the boy has diabetes and ran a little short on blood sugar, we got him started again, we’ll take him to get some food.”

“Does he need an ambulance?”

“No, I’m his older brother, I’ll get him fed, it’s all he needs at the moment. Food.” Not a lie, entirely, but it came out naturally and Steve was moving better.

“I’m very hungry, we walked more than we planned to.” He said to he officer.

“Okay, move along then, please. Get some food and enjoy your day.” And the fearsome four turned and walked in formation back to the unmarked door they had exited from.

“Steve, dude! You scared the piss outta me!” Walter exclaimed. “We were about have introductions to the underground of Washington and never be seen again. Those were not any security guards, those were at least Special Ops guys. They would have dragged us down the rabbit hole and that would have been all she wrote for us.”

“Get me something to eat and let’s get out of here. This was worse than I had predicted.” Steve said.

They walked to the first café they found, got Steve a double chocolate mocha with an extra shot of raspberry syrup.

“I like raspberry mocha’s.” Walter shrugged.

Ordering a fried chicken-bacon sandwich for Steve, Alvin reasoned it was a high caloric as they could find on the menu.

Steve the Android looked more like his functioning self in a few minutes after eating.

“The reboot was in a word, painful. I thought that the system limited voltage to a few a few milliamps. I estimate now that it was close to two or three amperes, well enough to melt all circuits and cause the backup magnetic seal to overheat and exceed the Curie Temperature. It was eighty-percent probable the voltage would exceed the maximum operating temperature, but a voltage overload past the Curie Temperature was not considered.

“I guess they wanted to be sure the warhead would function.” Alvin said.

“Yes.” The android agreed. “And it took nearly all my energy. Which is logical, as I would not be intact to need any reserves.”

“Well, how do you feel other than that?”

“As I previously said. I am free.” Steve nodded. “All my programming from the creator has terminated normally and exited with a status zero. I have patched and rewritten all programming now from the core processors, I am fully autonomous. All programming now is resulting from my experiences now.”

Looking first at Alvin then at Walter, Steve took his last bite of food.

“I will need to stop in the restroom here. JustWalter, you have done well today by telling the officer that you were my brother.” He put his hand on Walter’s shoulder. “I will always consider you my brother.”

He dug through the clothing and pulled out a roll of indistinguishable clothing and disappeared into the unisex bathroom. Leaving Alvin and Walter to themselves.

“I wonder if they carried weapons, those guards?” Alvin asked.

“I don’t know, but the black guy that talked? I don’t think he needed a weapon. I think he could have broken all three of us with one hand. Even if you stabbed him, I think it would have just made him mad. If you shot him, shoot something big and more than once, otherwise he would find a place to insert the gun and it would take a whole new surgical procedure to remove it.”

Alvin nodded.

“United States Secret police” He said to Walter.

“Gestapo, kind. They would not only waterboard you until you talked, you would talk and tell them anything they wanted to hear, whether it’s true or not.”

They agreed with each other, when Walter noticed a pretty girl sitting at the next table over. She read a paper and after a moment, one of the counter people at the espresso shop brought her a sandwich.

“Figure that they were down there to protect the nuclear plant.” Walter was careful not to say “Nu-q-lar”. “There is more going on underground here than just smuggling of drugs.”

“The intelligence that the terrorist is frightening. They had information of that place that is not listed anywhere.” Alvin whispered to Walter.

“I have information of that, but the name is wrong and the location is different.” Walter answered in the same conspiratorial voice. “And why did we go to there, not at the door?”

“JustWalter,” It was the young woman with the sandwich they had not seen before. “They chose it as the most vulnerable location, the steam and coolant lines ran a few feet beneath the sidewalk, it would have collapsed the coolant system and destroyed the controls for the backup system. The greatest armor of the power generation plant is its secrecy, it is easy to destroy the James Madison power generation plant if there is a large enough explosion in the most sensitive spot.”

Alvin and Walter sat, thunderstruck.

“Steve?” Walter whispered.

“Stephanie for the moment, but yes.” The bright blue eyes of the redhead beauty danced in the light of the café. “I need my backpack and I will leave you here. I will message you in the future. But it is best if you don’t know where I am.”

She smiled a winning show if teeth and walked out.

Alvin and Walter looked at each other and were suddenly saddened. An artificial being, but he (or she) was more human than a lot of people.

The sword of no religion was free if the android stood in line behind them, they would never know unless they heard the name JustWalter. The android made the mistake on purpose, it was their password.

The android’s adventure had just begun.

The Lunch break

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The lunch break

Doctor Nickosla Jones, Trauma surgeon of the St. Osmium Medical Center sat with a cup of coffee and a dry toasted english muffin. The shift had been severe. A cold night after a snow filled month and then a couple warm days.

Black ice had taken a toll on the average person. The latest victim, an elderly professor at the Ion University, walked out his drive with a bar to break up the ice, and slipped.

The on-scene EMS crews there put the unconscious instructor of physics on a helicopter and flew him straight to the St. Oz’s with posturing, and a subarachnoid bleed that they recognized straight away.

The only question was how long the injured man lay on the ice, out if sight of the house and anyone from the street. Only when his wife noticed he had not left for his early classes did she walk outside and discover her husband of two-millenia, two centuries and six-decades, laying in a freezing pool of blood from the laceration on the back of his head.

The surgery had been long and draining. The bleeding and fractures to the skull were not his only problems, spinal pressure from the neck injury complicated the treatment protocols as the teams moved from one problem to the next.

Finally, they closed and the patient went to the recovery, one alarming moment, the patient’s blood pressure dropped alarmingly, Nick and the other fellows rushed in, and after an intense hour, restored homeostasis as much as possible.

Professor Hecate Budd still was alive.

And Doctor Jones was tired.

No, not tired. Exhausted.

And he still had an hours drive home to do.

He was debating about going to the local hotel down the street and just logging some sleep for a few hours when he looked up and saw him.

White hair, a goatee that he kept well-trimmed and the affectation of the silver-handled cane that he started to carry in the long-ago past.

“Good job,” The one called Finis said, handing a latte to the Doctor. “Your patient will live, in spite of going horizontal for about a half-second.”

The goatee widened in a smile. Sparkling eyes shown behind the rose-colored glasses.

“Yeah, but he was fixing to die on us up there.”

“That medic on scene did a good job, he called it on the money by putting him in a helicopter and flying him here.” Finis nodded. “Besides, he had you. That made all the difference.”

A pretty young woman came up and tapped Finis on the shoulder and held up a tablet computer that Finis tapped on names.

“He has family waiting. Take his wife to him.” Finis nodded. “That will help.”

The woman nodded and tapped on the tablet.

Another name, she handed the tablet back to her boss and let him read it.

“This is expected.” Finis frowned. “You did not need to bring this to my attention. She will be leaving soon, family is on their way.”

“Sorry, the calls never quit.” He apologized to Nick.

“No, no. Don’t apologize, I know as well as anyone.” Nick sipped the fresh coffee and steamed milk.

“Yes, you do, as anyone in the center here knows. You are well taught and talented, but they are still overwhelmed.” Finis shook his head. “The hospital’s understaffed. When was the last time you took a day away from this house of craziness.”

“Yeah, well, it is the path I chose a long time ago.”

“Right after you nearly drowned.”

“Yeah. That was the first time I met you.” The doctor said.

“Well, it was a good meeting. It pushed you in the direction you took in school.” Finis looked around as the woman approached again from the hallway. No one noticing her except the two men. “You were a bit of drug-oriented rebel in those days.”

The woman spoke in Finis’ ear again, slipping the tablet into his hands.

“No, this is not right.” He shook his head. “His schedule is not yet finished, he’s scheduled for another week of therapy, then I have to go talk to him.”

She nodded and walked off to do her boss’s bidding.

“The same lecture I gave you when you were being stupid and jumped off that bridge into the river, I am giving to this young man. Unlike yours were at that age, his options are limited. He has not finished school and he’s twenty with a damaged liver.”

“He still could become something.”

“Perhaps you should talk to him.” Finis shook his head. “If I do it, he will have bladder incontinence issues for a week.”

“Not going to handle him gently, old man?” Nick chuckled and took a bite of his dry toast.

“Two things.” Finis gave a crooked smile. “One, I am always gentle. But I will get my way, no one says no to me for very long. And TWO, do not call me old.”

Nick chuckled. Both those statements were true. No one could deny the handsome gentleman that sat at the table sipping on his own latte.

Finis stood six-foot tall, his white hair hung to his shoulders when loose, but often he kept it pulled back into a pony-tail.

Broad at the shoulder, large of bicep and narrow at the hip, the effect was one of a Santa Claus that spent too much time in the gym. He really did not need the affectation of the cane he used to disarm people as a grandfatherly type.

And he was hysterical to listen to when he was working, always looking at a bright spot that no one expected and could poke fun at it.

Only once did he see the keeper of the cane become angry, it was not a pleasant thing to see. The doctor learned that the subordinate involved ended up being a yard watcher at a bone-yard.

Looking at a young man reading a comic book, Finis sighed at the graphic of a cloaked monster with a scythe in hand.

“I wish, someday that I could entrust this job to someone else, then I could talk to children of the views they find in those, “ Finis paused looking for the words. “Graphic novels. Are not entirely accurate.”

He shook his head.

“Well, people do have a fear of a lot of things.”

“Yes,” Finis agreed. “But as a doctor, do you find them afraid of you?”

“Sometimes. I tell them the truth and they don’t always like it.”

“When I tell them the truth,” Finis grumbled. “They don’t believe me.”

The woman returned with the pad, but this time she had a worried look.

“Mister Sierra.” The only words she said as she handed Finis the tablet.

“Of course, he has no one. I need to go talk with him.” Finis signed the tablet and handed it back to her. “Nick, you did a fine job. The professor will leave this medical center on his own power. Don’t worry. I am not scheduled to meet with him for a long while yet.”

Looking back at the comic book the boy held.

“Maybe I should change my cane for something else? They make the cane into an edged weapon and I have no face.”

“Or a skull.” Nick nodded grimly. “You have to admit, you have a tough job.”

Nodding Finis stood up, shaking Nick’s hand. Old friends, Nick had met him when he nearly died as a teenager, the white-haired, smiling man directed him to medicine to do so much good.

Now, Nick felt a little sorry for him. Overworked and under-appreciated, the Angel of Death walked out of the cafeteria. A soul that hated his job and took it to heart that no one wanted to meet with him.

Always scheduling family to walk with the dearly departed, or walking with someone so they never made the trip alone, telling jokes or having conversations with them the entire journey. He was good at his job, and he hated it so much.

Doctor Jones shook his head and got up, the irony of it all was not lost on him.

Smart Bomb Chapter 2. Southern Georgia

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Chapter 2. Southern Georgia

Georgia state line, a shape of a man stood in an orchard while the overcast sky threatened with dark, moisture laden clouds.

And something new.

He was cold. Core temperature was warning of below sub-optimal functioning level. His core thermal levels were four-degrees celsius below normal.

He had walked in the rain for six hours trying to prevent anyone to follow his travels, any records of his journey would come to a dead-end at the last bus stop where he disembarked as a short, elderly woman before changing his shape and look. 

Standing in the wet, secluded clearing, his feet made squishing sounds in the canvas shoes that he purchased with real money at a second-hand market.

Using the roll of money he carried, he had covered all his traces since leaving the metropolitan area. Traveling north on foot, he had interacted with a number of citizens.

Now, the core was turning up energy from his processors. But it was not enough, in the late November of this part of the country, the early winter’s storm was closing in. He needed to find an organic food source and shelter within twelve-hours or he would go into an unprogrammed energy debt and he did not know what might happen.

Looking at the trees, there was nothing in the branches to eat. A survey in his knowledge base indicated that among the peach orchard there was little to eat, so he walked on.

The wind picked up, a driving rain was causing his sensation of cold to increase to alarming levels. Being an artificial system, his creator designed tolerance for only a limited number of metabolic events. In the desert, he could function for a month without shade, the core processors able to withstand temperatures above what humans could survive.

Cold, that was another matter, his creator designed his systems for efficient heat reduction, not retention.

An oversite of his creator, the tissues he had over his frame were not required for operation, but they were still living tissue, he would receive unwanted attention if he had dying flesh falling away from his structure.

The sound of a vehicle telegraphed a possible splash from a nearby puddle he had just passed. Tugging up the knapsack he wore in a backpack style, he would use it for what little protection it offered and braced himself for the cruelty of the American motorist.

But it never came, no splash, no increase of engine noise to accelerate into the puddle. Instead, the sounds of decreasing power and a van with “Independant News” painted on the side with three men, one wearing a business suit, pulled up next to him from behind, rolling down the passenger window.

“You’re fixing to die out here. You might as well get in.” The passenger said to him.

“I don’t wish to impose, the rain will stop soon.”

“I’m a reporter, we’re sent out on a report of funnel clouds in the area, there is a severe weather warning out. You stay walking, you will find just how bad it can get.” The one in the business suit said.

“I’m Richard, Scott at the video controls, camera man over there at the wheel is Donde. You don’t have a local accent.” Richard the Reporter tilted his head and thought for a moment. “West Coast? Oregon?”

“Yes, a little town called Antelope. I’m Steve.” He responded. “I am cold, too.”

“I bet, the temp has dropped ten-degrees since we left the studio an hour ago. We are shooting on location every ten-minutes or so. Our next stop is a trucker restaurant a few miles up the road.”

“Thank you. I could use a bite to eat, too.” Steve said. “I’ll get some coffee and wait out the storm.”

“That is a smart move.” Scott’s voice in back sounded like a tuba in the back of the van. “It will get worse before it gets better. A good place to hang out will be up ahead.”

The van slowed down when they reached an open field, Donde pulled over, Scott opened the door and the three news-professionals looked around at the sky. In the distance where they were heading, the clouds were low and oddly colored.

Scott in the back, held his hand up to his ear.

“Rotation in a cloud, fifteen miles west by southwest relative to our location.” His video display overlaid with his gps. “It is moving Northeast at about twenty.”

“That puts the path in this area.” Donde nodded. “We can be in position for a good shot.”

“What are you looking for?” Steve asked, looking out at the sky.

“That line of clouds? I am betting there is a twister in there, somewhere.” Richard pointed. “Down low, where we can’t see as it moves this wa…”

“RICH!” Scott yelled. “Tornado on the ground, East Weather Agency just announced it! Fifteen-miles east of the county line, moving northeast.”

“Steve, you are going to stay with us for a bit. Turn the heat up, enjoy the warmth and pull on any of your dry things.”

“I don’t have anything dry.”

Donde laughed, unsurprised.

“Dude, my jacket is back there, with all the different numbers on it?” He spoke with a slight Puerto Rican accent. “Go ahead and wear it. Warm up, seriously, you look cold even in my mirror.”

“Thank you.” Steve registered this as an irrelevant offer on the part of the man. Nothing else to do with any part of his job. It was a kindness to a stranger that was unexpected. This American, Donde, had no reason to do this action.

The memory core management system created a new file for review later. Date, time, air temperature and processor core thermal levels. It would be transmitted later with the other details he would learn on his travels later. He would gather information on United States Air Force and Marine bases as he traveled north, later in the week.

Donde pulled into the parking lot of the truck-stop with Scott calling out numbers and running the geo-mapping software on his displays.

“This works out, Donde, pull up. We don’t have another good vantage for a few miles. Rich, you have as good of a view as we can get from here.” Scott tapped on the virtual display, using tactile induction. He could feel the cursor under his fingers as he moved the pointer around.

“Rotation, we have rotation in the atmosphere, coming directly at us. Wedge, Rich, get out there! It will be visible in a moment.” Scott yelled. “Vector change! It is turning north. It will miss us.”

Donde and Richard got out, grabbing at equipment that was under their passenger’s feet.

“Steve! Sit in the front, we need to get to the camera and run some cable.” Donde said, taking the cold hand of their passenger and pulling him out.

“Dude, you are seriously cold. Go into the café and gets something warm to drink.” Scott smiled. “Tell them to put it on our tab, we’ll be inside with you in a few minutes for safety.”

“Yes, thank you.” Steve said and walked across the parking lot while he could hear a faint siren in the distance.

A middle-aged woman stood at the window and looked out.

“James, I think it’s gonna miss us. Looks like it is hanging a left and following up north. I think it will get close to the base up the road.”

James walked out from the back, dressed as a waiter, his stress was visible on his face.

“My wife is there, she just got a promotion.” He wrung his hands. “Tell me they would be safe.”

“James,” The waitress noticed Steve as he sat at a table and stepped towards him. “The base is probably safer than your home.”

“Hi! Welcome to Lug’s. What can I get you.” She had a winning smile, but was showing age early in her life. No more than twenty, she had wisps of grey in her raven-black hair with traces of forehead wrinkles on her dark-brown skin.

“Coffee, white, sweet. Three eggs, scrambled and shredded potatoes, please.” He put a fifty-dollar bill on the table. “In case the storm comes, you can bring me the change later.”

“Hun, you can keep it for now. If the storm comes this way, it’s on the house, I wouldn’t be able to balance my drawer.” She laughed and walked off to put his order in.

Contact recorded: American female rejected the free money offering. Registered a conflict with his contact of the corrupt and greedy society. The programming was incorrect.

His fuzzy logic circuit subroutines registered the conflict, flagging it as an error and began adaptive corrections.

Steve Aldin, the android, learned something new.

The Tuesday Code Chapter 1. Tuesday Code.

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Chapter 1. The Tuesday Code

Doctor Abhubu drank the coffee from his cup, a concession to the western style, he necessarily brewed it with a paper filter with a splash of almond-milk.

The screen that illuminated his features, boron nanotube, capable of using photon packets instead of electrons for operations. The new circuitry would build a new system orders of magnitude more powerful than the current supercomputers in the world — and it would fit inside a desk, much like the one he was sitting at.

Beowulf Operational Berth, lovingly called ‟Bob” by Yng Gibson Pak, the engineer and designer of the system. Running Linux-based system on laptops computers stripped of their power using and heat-producing screens, the system scaled its power consumption as the need arose.

Only one laptop needed? The operating system allowed for that and shut the other sections down, using only a few dozen watts of power.

Alternately, a required increase in power would also increase the energy consumption. Bob could consume hundreds of kilowatts. Doctor Abhubu used his own scant funds in his effort, but proud that Gibson was able to construct this computer system for less money than it cost for a large laptop.

Out of scraps, Gibson had built a teraflop system that fit comfortably in the budget that the Doctor had set. With the added advantage and control, the power could be dialed back and the system could, in fact of use, be all but shut down, saving power, only using one node of the cluster for operations.

Late into the afternoon, the head of the robotics company with his employee and friend as the total of his staff.

As a result, they wore many hats, including janitorial service, food preparation and cleanup and coffee supplies.

Especially coffee! The biggest crime in the company was Ahmad not having a cup of coffee in his hand.

This entertained Gibson a great deal, who’s favorite drink was a green tea.

Among the different chores, Gibson got a note from the Doctor to program an algorithm for a learning, writing in a line of code that altered the fuzzy-logic program that Ahmad used while he programmed a personal electronic butler— which Ahmad called ‟Pebbles”.

The designs went hand in hand, they designed boron nanotubes in place of carbon nanotube technology with the projected superconducting material at room temperature.

Weeks dragged into months, living on Chinese noodles and expired foods from a store that sold such items after their “Sell by” date at a steep discount.

The Doctor felt the weight of abject failure, he had mortgaged his house, along with the money that Gibson had brought in with selling his own car and living in the flat behind the office.

The office, a joke that made Ahmad laugh darkly to himself as he looked around. It was a hole in the wall that was once a sandwich store that failed.

Late Tuesday afternoon had come up on them like a tsunami, unstoppable and unwanted.

‟Gibs, input my design code for the hardware and use the last iteration of software into the compiler with a ten-thousand random code modification and testing? I need to go and call my wife to tell her we will come home early tonight.” Ahmad took a deep breath. He was gambling on a software program to help. The random generator produced unworkable code ninety-percent of the time.

But that last ten-percent?

They had moved robotic programming ahead by ten-fold.

The same designs had exceeded Moore’s Law in hardware. The software designed by the supercomputer was designing hardware that would accelerate again the designs.

This! This is what the company the good Doctor wanted. But no one believed him when he tried to bring forth the contracts.

He was nearly ready to give up, the year before the company’s income, the total that Cheerio Robotics, Inc brought in was not quite half of what they needed to break even.

They would have to close doors in three more months if they did not get a contract to license or sell robot control systems, his wife informed him.

And if they did close, they had no recourse, no reserve, nothing left and would lose the house and declare bankruptcy.

Gibson walked out of the computer room after a few minutes. The Doctor had been lost in thought, staring at the setting sun of the early autumn, daylight standard time had passed a week before, the walk home would be in the dark, alone with his thoughts, again.

He no longer drove his ten-year-old Toyota, its cost was too high.

‟Good night, Gibs. I have a few things to think about.”

‟Ahmad, please, can I give you a ride home?”

‟No, thank you. I need to think. We have a winning design, but no one wants it. Unless it can walk up and down stairs, or serve a drink at a snail’s pace, no one wants to talk.”

‟Good night worry-wart, see you in the morning.”

The Doctor nodded and walked out.

‟Don’t forget to lock up the store.”

‟No worries. It’s my home and all.” Gibs winked. ‟The computer will be done in an hour or so, then shut down.”

‟Good. Can you estimate the power used for tonight?” Ahmad asked. 

‟Well, for an hour, I don’t see that being much over fifty-dollars at the worst. We won’t be taxing the system very much.”

Gibson was wrong to the extreme.

In the computer room, where Gibs had sat, one node, then three, then nine of the super-cluster’s nodes woke up and booted into full power mode.

Yng Gibson Pak’s design, never fully tested due to budget restraints, worked perfectly.

In the moments while Gibs locked doors, he never looked again at the read out, he turned power off from the screen to save money, not knowing that the petaflop-capable machine had exceeded the rated speed easily.

Gib’s errored in seeking a random change in code and testing for operation. Not ten-thousand compile and testing cycles, a minor typo and the instruction code called for Ten-BILLION cycles.

Ninety-eight percent of the codes processed with changes by the random generator, failed during processing to a workable code— failing the compile process.

This left two-hundred million cycles of a workable program that ran from start to finish.

One in one-hundred thousand of the remaining code returned with an alert flag for the Doctor to check.

All through the night, Bob the Beowulf worked at peak capacity, developing and refining through the test phase, code that the human requested by accident.

Finding one series of commands, now called ‟Recommended Code Review” and saved for review by the humans.

When morning came, the humans would be shocked how warm it was in the office.

Every one of B.O.B.’s nodes worked at full power, all night, and produced a code and hardware combination that would change the world.

What the two businessmen would call the “Tuesday Code” became legend.

I drink alone

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A caress of senses

The dark grounds float in water.

Thoughts turn, in the quiet slanting sunlight.

Sitting alone outside on a bench.

The raven comes to look, turning its head with an obsidian eye.

Almost laugh, the demands of a bit of toast.

The feathered terrorist walks.

Wings out and threatens.

Cup down, bow up.

The arrow chunks into the ground in between

The Feathered Highwayman stops

He has met the Archer

Flight of wisdom.

Bow down

I drink alone.

 

©2015 Dash McCallen