Chapter 3
Liberata
After my commission in the EMC, I spent six months training with elite fighters. It is a tough training course that only a special few trainees survive. The training environment is harsh, but I'm bread for it. I train with the CIA for three months on how to overthrow governments, and I leave with my certificate. I walk in subterfuge and live in a clandestine environment, and I answer only to the top brass of the EMC. My number one mission in life is to ensure the Votans don't develop a following on Earth, and change their belief system to one that's congenial to human life. The brush is thick, and the wind blows hard on the training course. I learn how to make car bombs, IEDs, and wiring doors to explode. I am under a training prop in the middle of the Nevada desert with an improvised explosive, and the wind blows hard against my face. I have two minutes to put the device in place or I fail the course. The wind beats against my black face as I race through the courses, and the heat is deadly. It's so dry I'm not even sweating, and the time of the clock is unforgiving. I have only twenty seconds left, and one of the prongs isn't fitting into the slot correctly. I jam it in as hard as I can, and it clicks. I walk a way from the test area, and the cadre flips the switch, and the vehicle explodes. I pass.
I travel to a clandestine location in Southern California, and I'm on an advance shooting range with alien equipment. I have two Volge weapons in front of me: a rifle and a pistol. There's only a few soldiers who meet the qualifications to be part of an elite tactical unit on stopping the Votanic influence. I never played football or anything like that. I enjoy running ten miles, three times a week, and reading, and when I'm faced with a problem, quitting is never an option. I stand in front of lifelike targets; they're of Iraths, Sensoths, and Castithans. I don't think much about how the EMC is brainwashing me because I spent my entire life under the same brainwashing. I just go along with the program, as if there isn't anything wrong with what I am doing. The EMC at the time is a subset of the Earth Republic, but because of certain events, the EMC is expected to lead a united front against the aliens. When I graduate from my elite fighting school, I have a two week training session with hover planes: one or two men aircrafts that allow us to go undetected into foreign lands.
I come to a clandestine airbase off the coast of Alaska with a slew of Indogene doctors, and I'm somewhat freaked by the sight of them. At the time, they work for a company called Flanagan's Tech, a company that works in cerebral technology. They place a powerful computer at the base of my brain that enhances my ability to see further, run faster, jump higher, and think better than anybody on the planet. I can connect to computers through a Wi-Fi connection or blue tooth. My implants are called Phase One Tech, and I don't have the capabilities of being hardwired into older technology.
I am barely twenty-two, a second lieutenant, and cocky when I fly my hover plane into Ghana, South America, the same place of a great massacre that happens many years ago. I meet with Ambassador Tye, a middle aged black woman who is investigating claims of Votanic DNA manipulation. I fly in with the understanding that I am on her protection detail. I land my hover plane in a small airport, and a guard tells me that the Ambassador's plane is approximately five minutes out. I try to tap into the Ambassador's profile through my EGO implant, but everything is under a classified status. I don't know why it's classified, and I choose not to pry.
When she arrives, I didn't have any idea about Ambassador Tye, and she is approximately six-foot five inches tall. My EGO pulls up an old photo of her playing profession basketball back in two thousands and six, and she's married to a model named Cat Love. She is muscular from head to toe, and looks like she can fight. She looks like one of the newly genetically modified humans the military plans on using in the near future. Several rollers pull up to our location, and all the drivers are Liberata; they are short, stocky, and repugnant to the eyes. I sit in the same roller with the Ambassador, but I remain quiet. My uniform is solid black, form fitting, and I have two weapons over both fist. They merge into the uniform, and it fits directly into my enhanced EGO.
When we enter into the compound, I see a plethora of aliens—mostly a species that I have never seen in any of my classes. I know of the Volge, Sensoths, Castithans, Irathients, Liberatas, Indogenes, and Gulanee, but I am seeing a petite, feminine race with curves, and I don't have anything about this species in my EGO. Most of them have long, straight white hair, pointed ears, smooth faces, and curvaceous bodies with tails. They are somewhere between five-two to five-five, and feminine in appearance.
"Does your uniform have a mask?" Ambassador Tye asks. She opens up her expensive case, and grabs a blue mask out of it. She places it on her face.
"Yes it does," I say.
"You'll want to put it on. This is a genetically altered species of Liberata that emits a strong pheromone that causes sexual arousal."
"Really?"
"Yes," she says, "So, mask on."
All I have to do is think mask, and my EGO activates it. It engulfs my head, and then all the air is filtered. When I open the car door for the Ambassador, I notice the people in the other car are already crippled by the pheromones. They become so aroused by it that they can barely walk. One of the Ambassador's assistants falls to the ground in agony, and he's complaining because his stiffness is unbearable. He's screaming how much it hurts. It's like nothing he has ever felt in his life. An Indogene doctor walks over to the struggling assistant, and gives him a shot in the arm.
"This will abate the sensation," she says. She walks over to the Ambassador, shakes her hand, and gives her a shot in the arm. She then gives me a shot in my arm. "I'm Doctor Mena Opa."
"How far are we from the first trials, Doctor Mena Opa?" Ambassador Tye asks, "Bach Industries has a lot riding on this."
"Close. In two months, we'll be ready to launch," Doctor Opa says, "These girls will take the industry by storm. Oh. You can take off your mask. The shot inoculates you from the pheromones."
"Nathan, you okay?" The Ambassador asks.
"Yes, ma'am," he says.
"Are there any males?" I ask.
The Doctor laughs for a second. "It doesn't matter until it's time to procreate."
"So, men will be having sex with men Liberata?" I ask.
"Yes. This species is androgynous to the outside world," she says, "They can distinguish male from female, but the outside world can't so easily."
"It's not going to matter," Ambassador Tye says, "The studies indicate everybody is a little gay." She laughs for a moment.
The night comes quickly after a series of dinners with several high ranking Votans, and I'm off duty. I send photos of the Votans in the meeting to the high command of the EMC, so they are well aware of what's taking place. I sit on the steps of our antiquated hotel, and think about writing a letter home on my tablet, but I can't think of anything to say because I'm still suffering after that cold shower. I can email directly from my EGO, but there's something about writing the message with my fingers that I enjoy. The hotel is old and dusty looking, and it doesn't have any hot water at all. The Ambassador knew of the horrible living conditions, but she didn't care. I pull off my uniform, and place it in a secured container that's chained to the floor as soon as I hit the room. I must have waited for twenty minutes for the shower to heat up until I ask the lady at the front desk about the hot water.
"Sorry, sir. No hot water," she says.
She seems to enjoy the rustic feel of a third world hotel, but it's more than what I can take. I look up into the clear night sky, and I see the fleet of Votan ships hovering above the planet. Several of the genetically altered Liberata are walking around, and chatting, but I don't understand what they're saying immediately. I tap into my EGO, and it translates the language for me. One of the Liberata walks over to me, and says, "Sapi ari eefae oyone supani?"
I stare wildly for a moment because my EGO needs time to translate, and it goes through thousands of different languages. After about a minute, it says, "Do you want to have sex with me?"
"Get away from me," I say, "I don't have time for that."
She snarls, walks down the street, and I sit in front of the hotel somewhat agitated when I notice I'm aroused. It was much earlier in the day when I receive the shot from Doctor Opa, and I can't help but wonder how long they last. I laugh for a second because it's natural for a man to have a hard-on, but I am thinking it's all because of the pheromones. Another Liberata wanders by me, and she has been exercising. I see the sweat pouring from her face, and suddenly, I become so aroused that I can't stand it. The bulge in my pants is raging, and I can't think about anything else except for sex. I grab the Liberata, take her to my room, and rip off her clothes. She slides back onto the bed, and sprawls her legs. I can't stop what I'm doing, and even after she relieves me, I want more. I feel tortured because I can't find any relief. We have sex repeatedly, but there's no satisfaction. I climax and climax, but her pheromones are causing me to lose control. I run out of the hotel, and then deep into the woods. I stay there until the morning.
When I return to the village, Doctor Opa gives me another shot, and the Ambassador is there. "This is the problem," Doctor Opa says.
"It is a problem if satisfaction can't be reached," the Ambassador says.
"Wait? What?" I ask.
"You were my test," the Ambassador says, "I wanted to see what happens when one of the girls came on to you."
"I didn't sign up for this," I say.
The Ambassador laughs. "Oh. But you did," she says, "There's a price with the uniform."
"We're calling this new breed Liberati instead of Liberata," Doctor Opa says, "With a gestation period of three months, they'll breed like wildfire."
"I'll be returning in a Month," Ambassador Tye says, "Have them ready then."
Back in the States…
I sit at an EMC base in New Mexico, but I'm not at liberty to say the location. It's a base with mountains all around it, and the EMC has built a portion of the base inside of the mountain. I sent my report on the Ghana mission up the chain of command, and now I am briefing superiors on it all day every day. At first, I am upset about the predicament that the Ambassador put me in on that day. The Ghana mission is my first mission in dealing with the Votans, and I found it less than desirable. At the same time, when I think back to that day in my spare time, I became aroused about it. I'm conflicted because my mother would never approve of me sleeping with a Votan. She would disown me for that behavior. On a personal level, I am bothered by the ambiguity of the Liberati because they're androgynous to the outside world, and this new race is not only sexually promiscuous, but soaked in avarice. I spend the rest of the month learning the Liberata language with the use of my EGO.
I walk over to my hover plane that sits on the far end of the runway, and do the much needed function checks. The planes are small, about the size of a Fiat, and with a long, retractable wing span. I can travel thousands of miles before a refueling. I can travel to Ghana and back on one tank of fuel, and to be honest, all I can do is think about going down there. I could be there and back within a day, and nobody would even notice. That's the good thing about being part of an elite tactical unit. All of our missions are classified, so ordinary officers don't try to keep track of us. I walk away from my hover plane, and try my best to hold on to my morals, but it's hard. I know there is something about the Liberati hormones because they call to me every night. I try to resist it, but it's like the siren calls in Greek literature. I find myself jerking off at the oddest times of the day, and it interferes with my self pace training. I learn the Liberata language and the Irathient language, but all the jerking off has stalled my self pace courses. I meet another officer by the name of Jessica Welch, and she's a young black officer a little older than me. She's not part of my clandestine, special ops unit so anything serious is out of the question. We spend a few days walking around the base, and I take her for a ride in my plane, but we never have sex. She wants some kind of commitment that I'm not ready to give because when I'm with her, I'm thinking about the Liberati who seduces me. It's been over a week, and that Liberati is still on my mind. What should have been a pound, a one night stand is now dragging down my entire life, and I can't function at my full strength. I look on-line, on the Dark Web for any mention of the Bach Industries experiments, and I see nothing on the Liberati.
"So, you can't commit?" Jessica asks. She looks down at her watch as she sits on my bed. We kiss a few times, and I take off my shirt. "We're not doing anything without a commitment."
"I'm not ready for that," I say.
"But you're ready for sex?" She asks.
I look at my shirt that I threw on the bed, grab it, and place it on my body. "It's okay. I'm not in a hurry." It is true because as soon as she leaves my room, I will pull up some porn on my tablet and find the relief I need.
"You elite soldiers and your commitment problems," she say, "All the same."
"There's no reason to argue about this," I say, "Just leave." She storms out of the room, and I know we're done at that point because she feels rejection, but it's not that I'm rejecting her, it's the Liberati's pheromones that has me losing my mind. I lie in bed for a moment, and think about the Liberati girl who seduced me, and finish myself off. I fall to sleep, and wake up in the middle of the night just to repeat my actions. I try to sleep again and again, but find myself repeatedly jerking off to the memories of that one night. It's four o'clock in the morning, a Wednesday, and I head for my hover plane. I can't think straight because of the craziness running around in my head, and once I receive clearance from the tower, I take off into the air. I'm racing to Ghana like my life depends on it, and in some ways it does.
The hover-plane has retracting wings, and I can land the plane on thrust power, and when I fly over the village in Ghana, I do just that. It's a bustling place with so many Liberati walking around that I can hardly believe it. There are a lot of infants too, and I didn't expect to see that. I wear my uniform and I have on my mask, so the pheromones won't affect me directly. By the time I walk across the Village to Doctor Opa's office, I have several Liberata guards approach me.
"Creda moka sapi ari?" The Liberata guarid ask.
He asks me what do I want, and I reply in English. "I need to see Doctor Opa."
Doctor Opa walks out of her office, and notices me standing in the middle of the town square with the two guards. She walks over to me, and says, "Let him pass."
"Doctor Opa," I say.
"What are you doing here?" She asks.
"It's the pheromones," I say, "It's messing with me."
"How?" She asks.
"All I can think about is sex," I say.
"You're a male," she says condescendingly.
"Doc, something has changed," I say, "I promise you. It's like an infection."
We walk over to her office, and she puts me in a hermetically sealed room, and tells me to strip off my clothes. Once I am nude in the room, an electronic arm extends from the wall, and takes my blood. Once it analyzes my blood, it shows traces of the pheromone in it.
She's looking worried, and then says, "This isn't good."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
She looks at me, and says, "They'll shut the program down, kill the specimens, and everybody involved with the project if they find out about this."
"Is this that big of a deal?" I ask.
She laughs. "Bach is a ruthless man," she says, "The Votanis Collective doesn't even know about this."
"Listen. The pheromones are like a drug, right?" I ask.
"Yeah. What are you asking exactly?" She asks.
"You have a drug that already counters the pheromones. Is there some way to deploy that drug after the sexual encounter?" I ask.
"I don't know," she says.
"We're talking business," I say, "This is just a shortcut until you can come up with a better way." I lean back in my chair for a moment, and she thinks, and I ask, "You have a pill to counteract the pheromones?"
"Not yet, but my team can make one," she says with a smirk on her face. "I can give you a shot right now."
"That would be great," I say.
Doctor Opa gives me a shot in my arm, and then walks me out to my hover plane. She shakes my hand, and says, "Thank you."
"Please don't tell anybody I came back," I say, "Any weakness in my unit is expulsion."
"Don't worry," she says.
I return to the base in New Mexico, and I feel a lot better about myself because the sexual urges that nearly tore me in half are abated by the medicine, and now I can go on with my life. For the next week, I don't think I thought about Liberati sex, and I'm thinking about starting a relationship with Jessica Welch. I sit at my computer, and read through some op orders seeing if I am being called on a mission. There are several missions that deal with the Votans, and I can already tell that the military is planing something big against them. I search through all the op orders until I come to the one about Liberati Decimation. It is an op order for the missile control units to destroy the Liberati. They plan on dropping a weapon on them that will decimate the entire area. I step away from the computer for a moment, and I search my conscience about it because I felt a closeness with Doctor Opa. The missiles will fall in four days, and it will destroy everything in the area. It would have been easier for me not to have seen the op order because if I warn Doctor Opa, I'm a traitor to my people, and if I don't, I'm a traitor to myself.
I don't hesitate to travel back to Ghana, and I land right outside the town square. The Liberati sit all over the place frolicking in the town square, and the guards didn't greet me. I have my gas mask on my face when I approach the doctor's office, but the door is locked. I call one of the guards over to me, and ask him where's Doctor Opa.
"She left this morning," he says, "She'll be back at the end of the week."
"Seriously?" I ask.
"Yes, sir," he says with enthusiasm.
I look around at the community for a second, and see the mothers carry their kids around the town and breast feed them in the town square. I am a little angry because I now know Doctor Opa knows about the pending doom, and as far as I know, she gave the order. I don't carry my cellphone on any missions because they can be tracked, but I am eager to find Doctor Opa. I don't know if I should kill her, and I mean that.
"Do you love these people?" I ask the guard.
"These are my people. They're of me," he says, "They're my children."
I look at the guard, and I can tell he's sincere about how he feels about his people. He's about to walk back to his post, when I ask, "Who's your boss?"
He turns back to me, and says, "They're all gone."
"How many times have they all left?" I ask.
"Never," he replies.
"But they all leave now?" I say, "Is that strange?"
He looks at me with his beady eyes, and says, "What do you know?"
"I see life here," I say, "Your children are more than a product to me."
"What do you mean?" He asks.
"You have two days to move all these people forty miles into the jungle," I say, "'Cause the military is going to scorch this place."
"Are you serious?" He asks.
"I'm risking everything to warn you. Get out of here," I say.
The Liberata soldier stumbles away from me, and runs over to a lever in the middle of the town square. When he pulls down the lever, I hear a siren that blares throughout the area, and all the Liberati stand in the center of the town. It is easily over a thousand of them. The Guard stands in the middle of them, and tells them that they have to flee into the jungles, and they need to get all the items needed for a long stay.
I walk over to him, and ask, "How many weapons do you have?"
"Six," he says, "We have six weapons."
"Leave tonight," I say.
"What about the pregnant ones?" He asks.
"Listen. We're talking about survivability," I say, "If they can travel, then that's a good thing. If they can't, you'll have to leave them."
"I have one girl about to pop," he says, "Can you take her to Olmec?"
"What of the pheromones?" I ask.
"That's done with injections," he says, "After a few weeks, they won't have those rabid pheromones."
"Okay. Get the rest of them out of here," I say.
I don't know what happen to those Liberati after I left with the pregnant one. I keep in contact with the pregnant one until the Olmec Massacre. I call her April Shooty, and I think I need to explain this in detail, so everybody is on the same wave length.
I am amazed at how fast I can go from hot to cold, and I think it has to do with my EGO implant. I feel in my heart that I will kill Doctor Opa if I ever see her again, and now that I have this pregnant Liberati with me, I don't know what to do. She looks so innocent, and doesn't have any of the features of the Liberata.
When we hit the ground in Olmec, the town is bustling with Votans, and they're everywhere; it's a plague of them. I didn't know so many live on the planet, and I realize the invasion has already commenced. We walk towards the Votan Embassy, but I don't know what I plan to accomplish. When I walk into the building, I see Doctor Opa with her utilitarian garb and righteous look on her face. I'm upset. There are pictures of great Votanic leaders covering the wall directly behind the Doctor, and she looks surprised to the Liberati.
"You lied," I say.
"You don't know what you're talking about," she snaps, "The project is over."
"You faked the study," I say. She smirks at me like she has something on me, but I hold my ground. I say, "Their rabid pheromones were because of injections."
"Bach pulled the plug, and that abomination should have been left to die."
The young girl spits at the doctor, "Murderer!"
The doctor laughs. "Listen up, black man. Do you know whose baby this bitch is carrying?"
I look down at her stomach for a second, and start to panic. I realize this is the Libarati that I had sex with just a month earlier.
She laughs. "It's your baby." She bebops around me for a minute, and says, "She's giving birth to what man fears."
"I take care of my own," I say, "I hope you're happy. You've killed thousands."
I walk away from the doctor with the Liberati, and as I'm walking out the door, Doctor Opa ask, "What made you leave with her?"
I feign a salute, and keep walking out of the building into the street. We sit in the Bazaar for a bit, and one of the Sensoths sells baked sweet potatoes. He's a large intimidating guy with broad shoulders. He seems to be a patient person with long gangling arms and fur. He looks like an ape, but he's nothing like the apes on Earth. He's an intelligent person with a lot of character.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"April," she says, "I already know you, Derrick Shooty." She scoots closer to me. "I'm hungry and thirsty."
I look around the Bazaar for a moment, and then ask her, "What do you like?"
She points at the Sensoth's booth, and softly says, "Sweet potatoes." She smiles, and her eyebrows raise up, and then she utters the word, "Baked."
At first, I think she chooses sweet potatoes because of the Sensoth's booth. He's selling baked sweet potatoes, but after April starts to eat, she says, "Sweet potatoes are one of the Liberati's main food sources."
I notice the Sensoth staring at us, but I don't pay him any attention because I'm watching April consume her food. In a day in a half, the military will bomb her home, and I'm hoping nobody is left in her village. I'm scared for her people, but I feel that I did my part by telling them. I think if they push themselves, they'll be far out of the blast zone radius.
"What will become of my baby and I?" She asks. I am amazed by her beauty, and her pheromones are having an effect on me. I sit quietly at the table, but I'm aroused so much I can't see straight. The Sensoth is looking at us with lust in his eyes, and he's becoming enraged. I grab the young Liberati, and we exit the Bazaar. We walk down the road until we come to the front entrance. My hover plane is about one hundred yards away.
"I'm afraid your life is in danger," I say.
"My pheromones are heightened," she says, "But after a week of no injections, there won't be a problem."
"It's safer for you here," I say, "Than in the states."
"Don't you want to take care of our baby?" She asks. "I know it wasn't in your plans..."
I look at her bulge for a moment, and she seems so young and innocent, but at the same time, I have my life in the states. She's going to have my baby, and that means a lot to me. I don't want to shirk my fatherly duties, but I am barely twenty-two, and raising a child this early in life isn't what I want to do.
"I'll send you money," I say, "That will help you out."
"So, you just leave me to cope for myself, Derrick Shooty?" She asks.
I hand her all the money I have, and say, "This will get you a flat."
"Okay," she says.
I write down my email address on a piece of paper. "You send me your address when you're settled in your flat, and I'll send you money."
"Okay," she says. She walks away down the busy street, and I feel bad about leaving her.
I'm standing at the entrance for a moment as she meanders down the road, and something inside of me won't let her out of my sight. She walks over to a Liberata, but I don't know what's being said. I walk over to him, and it sounds like he's talking her out of her money. I am so upset that I grab the Liberata by his shirt collar, and he squirms for a moment.
"No harm, man," he says. He's all squeamish, and I just find him despicable.
"I'll kill you if you rip her off," I say, "Now, where can I rent a flat at a reasonable price?"
"Well. Well. You need to talk to the Shop Keep," he says, "No reason for violence. I'm just a businessman."
I run over to an apartment complex, and it's owned by a Liberata name Avery Action, a short stubbly man with long sideburns, a scrunch face, and wide nose. "What's the monthly rate?"
"'Bout one hundred dollars," he says. He taps his fingers on the counter as if he's making a strategic bargain, and my EGO tells me that the prices in this flat run about eighty dollars a month.
"Make that rate eighty dollarsa month, and I pay upfront for twelve months," I say, "Can you set her up for a year?"
"Indeed," he says with a smile. "I love money."
I walk her over to her flat, and it's not the best in the world. It's an old, crummy couch not fit for a bear, and I think it's probably crawling with mites. She has a queen size bed with a stained mattress, and it's probably riddled with every disease known to mankind. Surprisingly, the television is nice and it's connected to the Internet. I turn it on, and immediately make her an email address, and teach her how to use it.
"How do you resist me?" She asks.
"Oh. We're having sex as soon as I'm finished," I say, "I think you know that."
"And then you leave?" She asks. She looks worried, and I think she realizes I have to return to the states.
"I have to get back," I say, "But you have my email address."
When I rub up against April, it's like I absorb her poison into my veins, and I become so aroused that I am hypersensitive to any suggestions. The pheromones emanating from her pores are like a drug; it devours my willpower to resist her, and it's to my detriment. For the last several hours, I resist her with every fiber of my being, and I sneak off to the bathroom, and rub one out into some tissue-paper. My heart beats rapidly. I want to release my essence into her so badly in the hopes that I find a modicum of relief, but I know the truth: it won't matter. I will pound and pound like I'm running a marathon, and when I cross the finish line, I will restart the race, and do it until I feel nothing but pain. She rides on top of me, and I feel like I'm in heaven. I'm so erect and she's so warm. I can't keep myself under control because I've been with her all day, and even when I take quick breaks to the bathroom to relieve myself, it goes down for a minute. But as soon as I am back in April's vicinity, I am fully erect. When I climax, my entire body tingles all over, and I'm screaming like I have no control. She's sweating. I'm sweating. Her sweat imbues more poison into the atmosphere that seeps into the walls. I don't just feel the climax in my gentiles, but it's like every sensory receptor in my body is activated. We're swirled together like fudge and vanilla layered in pheromone infused sweat that's bleeding into all the surrounding apartments. It's in the air and it's infectious. I hear screams of sexual bliss reverberating throughout the entire building, and cries of rape. I should be helping the helpless, but I can't pull away from April. It's not love. It's pure drug induced lust, and I have no control over it. It's late. It's probably around three o'clock in the morning, and I haven't received any messages on my watch from my unit. They'll call me when they need me, but I'm lying in a dirty bed with a genetically altered girl carrying my baby. I'm fully erect, and she climbs on me again and again and again, and now It's five o'clock in the morning, and relief is a thousand miles out of reach. She lies next to me, nude, with a small bulging belly, and I'm so sore that I flinch at the thought of her touching my penis, but I have sex with her again and again, and then I run to the bathroom, and blood shoots out of my penis. My heart races for a moment as a load of blood falls into the toilet, and I know a blood vessel has burst. I've heard of this happening to people, but I never thought it would be my nightmare. I quickly take a shower, and sit on the toilet for a moment. My penis goes limp for a few minutes, and I actually have a moment of relief both physically and mentally, but as soon as I step into the room, I'm erect.
"I have to go," I say.
She raises up, smiles, and says, "When are you coming back?"
"Not sure," I say, "I have to get back to my duties."
When I walk out of the apartment complex, I hear a lot of people having massive amounts of sex throughout the entire building. I realize that her pheromones are having deleterious effect on everybody, and I hear people crying and screaming. The Liberati's pheromones affects both male and female of other species, and now that one of them roams freely, I see what it does to everybody. When I walk out on the front steps, I see a Castithan woman sitting quietly. She smokes a cigarette, and puffs on it slowly. Tears roll down her face, and beneath her feet, I see a Castithan man dead. He has a knife in his throat, and he's nude.
"You killed him?" I ask.
She buries her head, and says, "He raped me repeatedly throughout the night." She cries. "I grabbed a knife, and tried to keep him from raping me again. When he threw me down, I stabbed him in the neck." She looks up at the apartment complex where all the sex sounds are happening, and says, "It's like something is in the air." She's stressed.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"It's never been like this," she says, "Everybody is having sex. It's like wild animals in heat."
I stand in front of the dead Castithan for a moment, and check his pulse, but he's dead. His blood is a light pink color, almost creamy looking, and it's all over the ground. I find out they've been married since before they arrive on Earth, and it's sad. I'm thinking about going up stares, and having sex with April, and even though I am wounded sexually, it seems like a feasible idea. I force myself to leave out the front gate, and hop in my hover plane. The plane, in it's off position, looks like a regular car, and that's the safety feature of it. When I hop inside, the wings expand, and it flies directly into the air, and then I take off immediately.
When I return to the EMC base in New Mexico, I visit the doctor's office about the burst blood vessel, and she has me urinate in a cup. She tells me there's still blood in my urine, and puts me on a regimen of antibiotics. It takes approximately two weeks for my body to work April's pheromones out of my system, and it is a rough two weeks. The doctor advises me not to jerk off, and at the same time, I can't find any relief. For two weeks, I have a constant hard-on, then all of a sudden, everything is normal.
April emails all the time, and we discuss life on instant messenger. I send her a cellphone, and everything with some spending money, and then two months after I save her from annihilation, I give her a visit. She has my baby in her arms, and he resembles me. I gently grab him from her arms, and I hold him for the first time, and I cry so hard that April takes him back.
"Are you sad?" She asks. Her voice is so soft and high pitched.
"No. This baby is the greatest thing to ever happen to me," I say.
She sits next to me on the couch, and the baby lies in his crib. She names him Derrick Shooty after me, and I think that's wonderful. The pheromones aren't spewing from her, and now I can see her with my logical eyes, and she's still beautiful. It feels good to be able to place my fingers through her hair without wanting to rape her. For the first time I can look at her face without wanting to stick my penis in her mouth. For the first time, I am back in control of myself around her, and now I can learn to care about her without the drug-like pheromones enticing me to do so.
"Ishstar Moas, taught me how to cook," she says, "All the Castithan dishes, and she pays me a few scripts for making food for her family. Her husband's a guard over at the diplomatic building."
"Isn't the money I send enough?" I ask.
"I make more money than most," she says, "But I don't scoff at the opportunity to make more."
"Do they know you're Libarati?" I ask.
"I haven't told anybody," she says, "Nobody knows a Libarati exists."
"Okay. Make sure you don't," I say, "It may be dangerous."
The apartment smells like mildew, and I'm thinking it needs all new furniture. I sense that April is intelligent, and working far above a life as a sex slave. She has a perfect grasp of the English language, and already has a sense of money. I have a lot of money because I save almost every penny since the time I came into the EMC. I talk to the apartment manager, and he will put the old furniture in storage, and allow her to put in her own furniture. I spend only about four thousand on a refrigerator, stove, bed, couch, end tables, and carpet. It's all nice amenities, and it's better than what I have in the states. My logical mind asks me several questions throughout the day, and I think it's messing with me on some level. The fact that she's a genetically altered sex slave is constantly on my mind. I think her entire life is about being a sex slave, and in some ways, I'm bothered by that.
We sit on the front steps of the apartment complex, and feel the cool breeze rush past us. She wears one of those spring dresses that makes her look so innocent and pleasant. She's playful, and kisses me on the lips, and leans back up against me. I give her a shoulder massage. "Are you prostituting?"
She looks back at me for a moment, as if to be offended. "I don't need to do that," she says, "Am I not your girl? Am I not the mother of your child?"
"Yes," I say.
"Then I'm going to protect what we have," she says. She places her hands on my hands, and says, "That's if you want me."
Honestly, I don't know what I want at the age of twenty-two, but after all my military training and schools, it is important for me that my child grows up with a mother and father. I ask myself if I'm only doing what I do out a sense of duty, or somewhere in my heart, I actually have love for her. I don't know if I love her or not because I know there's a sense of obligation in my heart and mind. I don't want my child growing up in a life of crime and poverty.
"I want you," I say, "But I need to know more about you."
"Like what?" She asks.
"How old are you?" I ask. She's leaning up against me.
"My life expectancy is one hundred and ten years," she says, "But I'm four in human years."
"What?" I ask.
"We're full adults at three," she says, "But we live for another one hundred and seven years."
"But you know so much," I say.
"We learn ten times faster than humans," she says, "We learn faster than every species. By the time we're only a few months, we teach each other how to read, write, math, and science."
"Incredible," I say.
I realize after my discussion with April why the government wants them all dead. The Indogene creates a race smarter than them, and I'm sure that scares everybody. She isn't just working for Ishstar Moas, but she's learning how to live through her. I watch April change the way she goes about life over the next few months. I visit her once a week, and she makes money in the Bazaar by mending clothing and making quilts. She makes some good money in the Bazaar, but she quickly learns that the quilt business isn't making the money she wants. After a few months, she turns into a food vendor, and sells cheese dogs.
"That Doctor Opa watches me," April says, "I don't trust her."
"I can get you a gun," I say.
She pauses for a moment. "No. Not with Derrick walking and grabbing things."
"Maybe I should bring you to the states," I say.
She shakes her head in disagreement. "No. America hates aliens."
The next morning I walk down the street to Doctor Opa's office, and it is at the end of the block opposite of the Bazaar. She's an early bird from what I can tell, and I storm inside of it.
"I'm going to ask you nicely, doc, to leave April alone," I say.
She laughs. "You think you have a say so?"
"What do you know?" I ask.
"It's only a matter of time before the government realizes they're not dead," she says, "And then what? What we created was an advance species of human and Votan hybrids."
"Are they a threat?"
She shrugs her shoulders. "It's the unknown."
"Nothing better happen to April and my son," I say, "Nothing."
***Breaking Up***
After the massacre in Olmec, Mexico, I sat in my room thinking about what took place. I remember the faces of those boys as I held my gun to their Momma's head, and how she pleads with me to kill her. I thought all my training would prepare me for that. I don't know why I empathized with that woman when none of my subordinates did. If I tell them I cried for that woman on the way back from Olmec, they'd lose respect for me. And when I think about all the Irathients I kill on the outskirts of the town, I lose respect for myself. In just a few hours of time, I hurt so many people that I find myself to be a disgusting person. But at the same time, I did what I did for the good of my country. I walk down the hallway, and my commander tells me that the missing politician event is a ruse, and now I'm dying inside. I rush back to my room, when I receive a message from April. I click on the screen, and she sits in front of me crying. "What did you do, Derrick?"
"There were questions that needed answers," I say, "Important questions."
"You killed people. My people," she says calmly. "You killed Ishstar Moas' husband! They said you were like the devil."
"I did my job," I say.
"You've killed innocent Irathients. You've devastated my community," she says. Tears fall from her eyes. "You're the Devil, Shooty Derrick." She raises up her shirt on the screen, and she has a bulge in her belly. "You will never see your second child."
"What?" I ask. "You're pregnant?"
"It's not of your concern," she says, "Your children will never know of you." Suddenly the screen goes black, and I don't know what to do. At first, I panic, and then I think about heading back to Olmec because she doesn't have a right to keep my children from me. And after thinking things through for a moment, I realize that my children wouldn't have a place in my world. It would be a few days later that I resign my commission, and find solace in Yosemite.
My team hates me for quitting my job, but it is something that I have to do. Now, after all these years, I sit with Rota in front of our tent. She's acting weird and Naira's sick. Ion is at the river with Rory. I look at my family with all the love that I can, but I always hurt because I know we're not complete. I have two kids that don't know me, and because of their genetics, they are already grown.