A True History - Book Three - Cover

A True History - Book Three

Copyright© 2021 by StarFleet Carl

Chapter 10

“I think it’s amusing that you brought our ionizer along, when you packed for coming out here,” I said.

“We brought three more, because we knew that one wasn’t going to be enough,” Beth said.

Her head was resting on my shoulder. Marcia was on my other shoulder, while Dora was snuggled between my legs, with her head on my belly. Saryu and Jasveer were sleeping, on the outside.

None of us were wearing clothing, of course, since we’d had a bit of a ‘reunion’ that had lasted until almost one in the morning.

“Speaking of enough,” Marcia said. “Can you maybe avoid getting more women for a while? At least until we get these eight trained up like we want? Not that I’m saying they’re not trained in...” she stopped, and shivered in remembrance. “Damn, the things that Jasveer can do with her tongue.”

“Saryu is masterful, or perhaps I should say, mistressful, with her fingers,” Dora said. “I could almost swear that it was you inside me, mi amor.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not why they’re with me, of course,” I said.

“Oh, we all know,” Dora replied. “I wonder if I can have them teach me how to wear the sari. Our skin tone is almost the same. That’d be funny.”

“Speaking of funny, what’s this about meeting with the President and doing assorted things to be seen? How’d you pull that off?”

Beth reached down. “No pulling this off, lover. It stays right here.”

I sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, I do. I just wondered if he was dead. I think he is, for tonight.”

“It’s been a stressful week, that’s for damned sure. But ... and you have a cute and bitable butt ... why’d you take the risk?”

“Plausible deniability. I went to Washington to meet Ronald and Jeane, while Eve was wearing your outfit with foam filling out the rest of her body so she looked muscular and could be mistaken for you. All I did was just say hi, and that you’d been distracted because those sailors were going to die, otherwise. Which they would have. Dora’s been having fun practicing in Columbia.”

“Si. I’d land at the drug dealer’s home, or fortress, and tell them that it was time for them to give up their wicked ways. Invariably, they fight back, so I destroy their homes. I yank their safes out, destroy all of their drugs, then go find whoever the farmers are that are growing the crops for them. I give them the money from the safe, then go burn their fields. In the meantime, I’ve kept their journals and bank account information, so when Margie gets here, she can use their monies for other things. I’ve been careful, as well, but there’s not been another ‘field’ that took my powers that I’ve found. And the one in the Valley doesn’t do that any longer, either.”

“Really?”

“The Air Force was bombing things. Since it was at night, we were about ten miles up with reinforced crowbars. Amazing how fast we can throw one of those. Seems that the bombs – or our crowbars – broke through the shield of whatever it was. Eve and Dora went in there the next night, and found the ruins of a temple to Shiva in the jungles that her people didn’t know was even there. Not the good people worth saving, anyway. There weren’t any bad people left.”

“Sounds like you’ve kept busy, anyway. How’d you get out without being seen?”

“Through the tunnel, of course.”

“Tunnel?”

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry, love. Sometimes I forget that you’re not linked with us, like we are with each other, or how Hannah and I are linked with you. No, I have no idea why your latest girl is like I am, but anyway, tunnel. We figured that we’d need some way to get in and out of here that didn’t depend upon the guards not seeing anything. We had to do it nude, because our outfits aren’t indestructible like yours is, but the three of us did your spinning trick. There’s now a legitimate underground room that’s under two of the trailers, with the entrance like a storm shelter in a garden area. A hidden door in the room goes into a shaft going down on a forty-five degree angle for one mile, turns west, then comes up inside an abandoned mine shaft in the mountains about five miles from the ocean. With the three of us spinning together, it’s big enough for two of us to use side by side. Total length is about fifteen miles.”

“And no one detected it?”

Marcia giggled. “This is California, Cal. Home of the oddball earthquakes. The other nice thing is that the girls used their heat vision to fuse the walls, too, so it’s totally stable in the event of a real earthquake.”

“Actually, that sounds like a perfectly good idea to me. I was worried about how we’d be able to respond, with the astronomy dish, the observatory, and all of the airports in the vicinity.”

“Yeah, I know. Hannah and I discussed it. She’s a bright one, more so than any of us thought when you first seduced her,” Marcia said.

“She’s not going to be a problem for any of you, is she?” I asked.

“Mi amor, she learned more from the council than they realized.” Dora chuckled then. “If things had been different, in ages and where we all grew up, she would have already been eating lunch with me, Eve, and Liz before we met you. We may not tell each other everything about our past, and our own thoughts are just that, our own. But we cannot lie to each other. We’ve actually tested that. Even when we try, the truth comes out.”

“Now, you need to get some sleep, Cal,” Beth said. “You’ve got a long day ahead of you later today.”

I woke up with a girl on either side of me, but it wasn’t the ones I’d fallen asleep next to last night. Saryu and Jasveer were both simply waiting for my eyes to open.

“Good morning, Master,” they said together, then leaned forward and gave me a kiss on each cheek.

“Not that I’m complaining, but I think we’re missing three women.”

Saryu giggled. “We are to help Master get showered and dressed this morning. Your breakfast will be served in twenty minutes. You will then have twenty minutes to eat.”

Rather than argue with whatever plans my women had cooked up for me, I simply allowed Saryu and Jasveer to quickly and efficiently bathe me. It was almost as much fun as with Hannah and Jennifer, just without the same outcome. The two of them worked together with large towels to get me dry, without bothering to dry themselves. My clothes were laid out already. There is something incredibly erotic about a nude woman whose body is still damp from a shower, pulling your underwear up and tucking you in, while another pulls your shirt on. Both of them working together got my pants, socks, and shoes on quicker than I could have without using my powers.

A quick hair brush and spray of something, and I was ready to go out. The two of them were giggling as they went back into the bathroom while I walked out of the bedroom.

“Good morning, love,” Beth said, greeting me with a kiss.

“Good morning.” I made a fist and pointed my thumb back behind me. “What was that all about this morning? Not that I’m complaining, but I don’t understand.”

Marcia said from the table, where she had a plate of food already in front of her, “I told you that he wouldn’t understand.”

Beth walked over to the table with me, where I held her chair so she could sit down. Dora came walking over with plates for Beth and me, then made another trip for her own plate. “Hell, sis, we didn’t understand until you explained it to us. You’re the one who grew up in that world.”

“It’s not like Mom and Dad had servants. But, I bet you thought that the eight girls were simply picked to be sex slaves, Cal,” Marcia said.

“Um, yes?”

“Body servants. The key word there being body, specifically yours. Their job is to take care of you. Serving you, not just servicing you. Don’t get me wrong. Right now, after what’s happened to them, you’re almost their savior. Not in the way that Hannah and Dora were going overboard about. It’s their job to make sure you eat, that you’re bathed and looking presentable, that you have whatever it is you need, to do whatever task it is that you have before you.”

At my frown, Marcia giggled. “Yeah, Beth and Hannah will help with the business stuff, because they’re both inside your head so far it’s not funny. Everything else, which means making sure that your eight wives are also taken care of, is also their job.”

“Fine. By the way, I’ve missed my bacon for breakfast, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, mi amor. We’re making arrangements for one of our regular flights from Kansas to deliver at least two hundred pounds of fresh meat every week. Before you object at the volume, we’re going to go through that amount every week. We will now, adding you and Sayel, who by the way is almost scary, the way he moves.”

“Thank you, Miss Dora. I’ve practiced that a lot. But why do you say, almost scary? I do try for full on scary.”

“Because your Master isn’t the only one who can beat you in hand-to-hand combat,” she said. “Anyway, then add Toby, plus Carrie. Fifteen or sixteen of us, depending upon whether or not Jennifer has a golf tournament. Twenty people, three meals per day? Oh, we realized that many days, there won’t be that many. Maximum of four hundred twenty meals per week, plus snacks, is what we’re budgeting for, not counting visitors. That’s three dozen eggs, every single day. If we have hamburgers, that’s twenty pounds of ground beef.”

“You know what? Do whatever. I’m trying to micromanage again, and I can’t do that.”

All three of my women applauded me then.

Sayel was still bothered, though, by something Dora said. “What did you mean, Miss Dora?”

She sighed, then pushed her chair back. “I cheat, Sayel. Nothing personal.” She stood up. “Draw your sword and swing at me.”

He looked at me. I paused, a forkful of eggs almost to my mouth. “Go ahead. You might find this interesting.”

He shook his head, closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself, then opened them. The friendly bodyguard was gone. In his place was the deadly assassin, ready to strike. He got up, then stood there, calmly, drawing his blade to the ready position. Without any preparation or other muscle movement to give him away, his blade flicked out. I could tell that the blow was designed to make a slight cut on Dora’s bare arm. Nothing disabling or injurious, just something to make her realize how badly he could have hit her.

Without moving her body, Dora brought her arm up, so the blade completely missed her. Then she spun in place, bringing her other hand down on the top of the blade, closing her fingers and thumb on it, holding it in place. She continued spinning, bringing her other hand up, her fingers lightly touching Sayel on both sides of his windpipe, then pulling away, so he knew she could have ripped his throat out if she’d wanted.

Marcia calmly said, “Word of advice, Sayel. Beth and Eve are also as fast as Dora. They need training, of course, to be elegant in their movements. But I think speed, even when you know about it, gives them a certain advantage, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Quite. Ingenious, too. You have some of your ladies also trained to use the powers of the shivalingam. No one would suspect them at all. An excellent idea, Master. And my sincere apologies, Miss Dora. It is difficult to be frightened of one who can kill, when you have killed yourself.”

“Not something I’m proud of, Sayel. Just something that needed to happen.”

“Of course, Miss Dora. Very few are capable of doing what I did. It may sound strange, but I am happier now. Much less stress upon my soul.”

“Speaking of stress, Eve didn’t tell me. How’d the three of you do on your tests?”

Beth glanced at the clock. “We’ll talk after you’re back from taking yours. It’s time for you to head out.”

“Now I’m curious as to why you’re rushing me off.” I nodded, then said, “Fine. This ought to be interesting.”

Sayel followed me out the door, where Chuck was waiting. I commented, “I didn’t realize how good the sound insulation was in there until we stepped out here.”

“Yeah, it’s something else. Come on, your golf cart awaits,” Chuck said. The three of us walked over to the gate in the fence. Due to the sheer number of workers and materials that were coming in, they were leaving the gate open. The half dozen people with signs protesting the destruction of the natural habitat were staying well back from the gate, though.

I looked at the guard towers, where men were casually standing with one arm resting on a machine gun while watching the area. “I’m surprised that the threat of armed guards is enough to keep them at bay.”

“It’s not. See the three colored areas? The first gets warning shots fired. The second gets wounding shots fired. The third is fatal. You made it easier for us when you told Colonel Shuren about the tokamak reactor, because now we can use Title Fifty, Chapter Forty-one, Subchapter II, Section twenty-four twenty-one, of the US Code, instead of simply treating you like we were using it. All it took was a simple five round burst from an M-60 and they figured out we weren’t fucking around.”

“Let’s see. War and National Defense, National Nuclear Security Administration, matters relating to security, and protection of National Security Information. Since I’m walking around, I presume that it’s not just for me.”

“Not hardly. I can’t wait for the arguments from the bureaucrats when they realize that Carrie and Helen are wearing things more powerful than any atomic device as rings.”

“They’re not explosive, though. They’re just functional memory cores, is all. The ones that ... Oh, hello, Mister LeClerc. I wasn’t expecting a member of the Board of Trustees to be my driver this morning.” I turned to Chuck. “We’ll discuss that later.”

He nodded.

LeClerc got off the cart, smiling. He reached out to shake hands. Sayel saw that I was comfortable reaching out as well, so his hand only twitched towards his sword.

“I must say, Mister Lewis, you’ve turned the week prior to full classes starting upside down. We actually had a bit of a contest on who would get to take you around today, and I won. If you and your guards would join me, we’ll head over to the campus, for our first stop.”

“So, not like when I took the MCAT and LSAT?”

“Oh, no. I’m surprised that you weren’t warned, but then again, I’m not. Here we are, the Department of Linguistics.”

I raised an eyebrow at that, but followed him up the stairs and into a conference room. There was a single chair, facing an eight foot long table, with four rather stern looking men behind it. Dean Wessells was standing by the chair. “Please, come in and have a seat, Cal. We’ll dispense with the introductions, as everyone here knows who you are.”

I sat down, not exactly sure what to expect.

The first person on my left introduced himself as Fernando Alegría, then began speaking to me in Spanish, asking me questions about the culture. I answered his questions in the same language. There were a couple of things that we disagreed on, but I mentioned that his knowledge was based upon outdated information regarding the actual influence of the Indian subcultures through the actions of the Romany upon Spain. After about ten minutes, he stopped talking, then nodded to the man next to him.

He said his name was Orrin Robinson, and started out asking me questions in German, which were easy for me to answer. Most of what he asked about were ancient history or the Germanic culture, which I’d read about, so I knew the answers. His last question became much more modern. “Why was Adolf Hitler able to become the leader of the German Peoples?”

“The simple answer is that it’s the fault of the Allies, due to the reparations and conditions they imposed upon Germany after World War I. At the same time, you also had traditional leadership in Germany that was simply trying to return to the pre-bellum status for the nation. Hitler was able to appeal to the national spirit of the German people. Under his control, the Deutsches Jungvolk was the only way for children to have fun. He manipulated them, made them believe in him, so that when they grew older, they were eager to become Hitlerjugend. For good or bad, they had an obvious scapegoat for their problems, and the only thing that ended up stopping him then was himself.”

“You speak like you know what the children there were thinking.”

“I had one of them explain himself to me. He did not apologize for what he did during the war, because based upon their society, it was justified. Simply playing ‘what if’ gives us a scenario where if Hitler had not declared war upon the United States, it would have been on the US to declare war upon him ... maybe. Otherwise, he most likely would have won in Europe.”

The man was quiet for a long time, resting his chin in his hand. Finally, he nodded to the man next to him.

His name was Marc Bertrand, and his questions were in French. Ten minutes later, he frowned, then nodded to the last man.

He was speaking Russian, and said his name was Richard Schupbach. His command of the language showed it was natural, his birth tongue. There were several historical questions asked, then we discussed the state of current affairs and what I thought about why the Soviet Union was going along with the Messenger from Above. I explained that it was simple. While the Communist Party leaders were still going to run the country, they would have to switch from the basic capitalism they had now, or not have a country to run. The men were pragmatists. The hard-liners would find themselves dead, and the people of the Soviet Union would prosper like never before.

“I wish it were that simple, my idealistic young friend.”

“I’m already making it happen. The people of Adak, Atka, and Nikolski are kin to the people of Nikolskoye. The US State Department is arranging for my people to be allowed free passage, as if the border wasn’t there. Once the first step is taken, the rest will follow.”

He was stunned at that response. It took Dean Wessells to snap his fingers a couple of times for him to finally shake his head. “Folks, we only have an hour for this, and we’re already at fifty minutes. What are your thoughts?”

Alegría said, “If I can get a twenty page paper about the influence of the Romany on the classic Spanish culture, then I have no issue with BA with Honors upon approving it. Appropriate documentation as well, even if it’s specific interviews with Romany individuals.”

“Thank you.” I saw that Dean Wessells was writing that down. “Next?”

“BA with Honors. Now. No question, and no papers needed. Standard dissertation for MA, additional work to be determined for PhD,” Robinson stated.

“Thank you. Mister Bertrand?”

“I could tell the French studies were not as in depth as the others. I have no issue with a Minor right now, but would require two papers for the BA, and two full quarters with appropriate grades for Honors.”

“That’s understandable,” the Dean said. He looked at the Russian instructor.

Schupbach was still shaken. “The same as with German. BA with Honors, now. Standard dissertation for Master. Full write-up on the State Department efforts regarding the Aleuts, for additional Master in Russian, Eastern European, and Eurasian Studies. I recommend discussion with Krasner in Political Science, because ... I suspect his real world activities are already at PhD level.”

“Thank you. I know you were wondering why I asked the four of you as department heads to take an hour out this morning to interview this student. I trust you understand why, now.”

Orrin Robinson said, “Very much so. His grasp of the language and the culture is already superb. May I ask, who did you speak to that knew so much about the children in the war?”

I smiled as I replied, “Certainly, you may.” And then I shut up.

That immediately got laughs from all four of them. “Excellent riposte,” Schupbach said.

“Who did you speak to?”

“Karlheinz Kaske, the CEO of Siemens AG. We were in a business discussion regarding Siemens and Thyssen working together for a multinational project I am putting together with the Saudi Royal family.”

Alegría said, “Definitely PHD in Political Science, unless they’re complete idiots over there.” The others nodded.

“Again, thank you, but now we get to go exercise Cal’s mind a little.”

We stayed in the same building, just going two wings over. LeClerc followed us, a slight grin on his face. There were only two men in this room. There were two large portable chalkboards off to one side, with the blank sides facing me. There was a single chair in the room again.

“Cal, these are the chairmen for psychology and mathematics. If you don’t mind, we’ll do mathematics first.”

“My time today is devoted to this, Dean Wessells.”

“I’m Gregory Brumfiel, Chairman of the Mathematics Department,” he said, getting up. He handed me a piece of chalk, then walked over to the first chalkboard. He flipped it. “Solve this equation.”

I spent about thirty seconds looking at it. Fifteen to make sure I was right, and fifteen more to double check myself.

“Impossible, Sir.”

“You mean you can’t solve it?” he asked, a sneer in his voice.

“No one can, as written.” I walked over to the chalkboard. “You’re dividing by zero here,” I said, circling the operation that effectively produced a result of zero. “In addition, this is an illegal operation,” I said, circling the section where the formula was just wrong.

He looked at me for a solid minute, then gave a slight nod of his head. Flipping that board back over, he turned the other one over. “Solve this equation.”

‘This equation’ was solvable, it just took me every bit of a minute to figure it out, then two minutes to double check myself twice. I hadn’t moved the whole time. Finally, I walked up to the chalkboard, and firmly wrote my answer at the bottom.

“You solved that, in your head?”

“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I ran through my answer twice to make sure. This section here,” I said, pointing to the board, “I don’t have that much experience with calculating in real life, so I simply had to use what I’d already read.”

“Norman, didn’t we plan on forty minutes for this?” he asked.

“Yes, Gregory, we did.”

“Good.” He flipped the second board back over, then flipped the first one again. “Fix this so that it is solvable.” He pulled an eraser out of his pocket and handed it to me.

Four minutes later, I stepped back. “I changed...”

“I can see what you changed. Why did you make those specific changes?”

“With those changes, this becomes an orbital path equation for a satellite that’s in polar orbit around Mars, with altitude varying between four hundred twenty-five and four hundred thirty miles, plus or minus four hundred feet.”

“You’re sure about Mars?”

“Angular escape velocity here. I’ve read books on all planets in this solar system. With this rotational speed, this can only be Mars.”

He went back over and sat down. “I’m done.” He turned to the Psychology department chairman. “Good luck.”

“Cal, I’m Ewart Thomas. Come on over and have a seat.”

I did so, and he began asking me different theorems and rationales for human behavior. I answered all of his standard questions. Then he threw one out that I had to stop for a second before I answered. He noticed my hesitation. “Why the delay with that one?”

“Because you’re not going to like my answer, but it’s the one that I’ve had to apply in real world situations, not theoretically.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. You eliminate the problem. Permanently.”

“You’re saying that you condone putting someone to death, for their behavior?”

“No, I’m saying that I personally have killed people that were threats, due to their behavior. I prefer not to, because it’s a waste of the potential that the person may have had. However, human beings are not always rational creatures.”

That made him sit back in his chair. “And you are a rational creature. Yet you say that you’ve committed the single unforgivable act, that of taking another human life.”

“Is it unforgivable if you allow the other person to kill you, and you were simply defending yourself? Or do you not consider self-preservation to be worthy?”

“There is no situation which cannot be resolved before it reaches the stage where a human life must be taken,” he said.

“Doctor Wessells, I have no desire to argue things with someone who has no clue about the real world. I’m not sure why you’re allowing him to teach students falsehoods such as this. I’m not particularly proud of the fact that I killed Ramaeshwara Randhawa in combat, but it was either kill him or be killed. I’m not thrilled that I was forced to kill a man that attempted to use his machine gun to kill me, but I did so, as Sayel here witnessed. And as the administrator of both high and low justice, I killed another man who had put an innocent girl to death. Three of my ladies shot and killed three men who wished to simply kill members of our party because of their skin color. Those men did end up shooting and injuring one of my security guards.”

I turned to face the department head. “And I for damned sure will not apologize because one of my ladies shot and killed the man that financed the assassination of President John Fitzgerald Kennedy when that man threatened all of us with death.”

Doctor Thomas nodded and said, “Thank you. I was wondering if you had the experience to back up your thesis. You do. My apologies, but I was deliberately pushing your buttons. So many times, students make the most absurd statements, and their rationale is ‘that’s what the book says’. Poppycock! Theory is fine until it meets the real world. You know what you’re talking about, because not only have you had to apply the solution, you’re still rational and are able to defend yourself quite adequately. I had hoped that I would make you angry, because the angry mind loses control. You were, but you did not. Excellent. I realize that my field is probably not one you will continue to pursue other than peripherally. BA with Honors.”

He got up from his seat, walked over, and shook my hand. “If you decide you want more paper, we can make arrangements for that.” He returned to his seat.

Dean Wessells nodded, making a note, then looked up. “Greg?”

“You need a couple of classes, but they’ll be individual study, and then some kind of dissertation, before I can say MS. You mentioned your weakness, which is something we can work on, getting you the real life experience in problem solving. Obviously, BS with Honors, now. PhD later, once you’ve shown original research. As a student here, and not what you’ve already accomplished.”

He paused for a second, then said, “Norman, are you going over to Physics next?”

“No, Economics.”

“That’s a waste of time. Just give him his PhD in that and be done with it.”

“You don’t think Nathan might have something to say about that?”

“Nothing that’s relevant. You know what? Cal, do you mind if I tag along a while with you? I want to see your performance in the other subjects.”

I looked at Chuck. “I have no objection, but you’ll need your own ride. My bodyguards aren’t going to give up a seat for you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. You coming?” he asked Thomas.

“Yeah.” We went back into the hall. The Russian department head was waiting.

Norman laughed when he saw him. “Richard, we know why you’re waiting. Come on.”

He followed us outside, where the three chairmen got into a different golf cart.

From a distance perspective, it wasn’t that far, only a quarter of a mile. But now that it was later in the day, there was quite a bit of traffic on campus, both vehicular and foot, so it took us a couple of minutes.

“Mister LeClerc, why are we doing things this way? I was expecting written tests, to see where I’d fit into the class structure.”

He snorted in laughter. “Sorry. I’ll explain when we’re done with Economics. I almost wish I had a camcorder.” The grin on his face said that he expected something interesting.

We parked on the sidewalk of the Landau Economics Building. I followed LeClerc and the Dean in. I couldn’t help but notice that we were getting a few odd looks from the students we were passing. “I’m guessing this is an unusual procession.”

LeClerc smiled. “That’s putting it politely.” A student grabbed the door and held it open for all of us. Turning down the hall, LeClerc went into a room set up similar to the others. “Have a seat, we’ll be right back.”

I took a seat, while the other department heads made themselves comfortable in chairs along one side. A couple of minutes later, the two men came in with an angry man following them.

“Okay, George, Norman, whatever! I’ll play your little games.” He paused. “Hello, young man. I’m Nathan Rosenberg, chairman of the Economics Department. I understand that I’m supposed to orally quiz you on economics, make a decision on where, if anywhere, you fit into our degree programs, and possibly render a decision on whether or not you award you an advanced degree.”

“Sir, all I know is that I was to meet someone this morning for some advanced placement tests. They set everything else up.”

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