The Best Defense is a Good Offense

CHAPTER 14

Report of Quantum Entanglement from the nest

    A5CD2 was happy, well the whole nest was happy so of course each of the gametes shared it. The dream had succeeded and the carrier had been ready when help was offered. There seemed to be a good chance that the carrier would survive and maybe even propagate.

    In spite of the prevailing feelings of satisfaction, A5CD2 was worried about some anomalous signals that were being received. For years, the gametes had been aware of signals that arrived like echoes, but lately the echoes had stopped being a copy of a previous signal. They were obviously related, appeared to be from them same source and matched the original at least partially, but the echoes were distorted and inconsistent.

    Realizing that the well being of the carrier would be affected if the warped signals weren’t properly integrated, A5CD2 sent an inquiry to the molecular archive. The archive contained the memories accumulated by all of the nest’s progenitors going so far back in time that some memories no longer made sense.

The archive answered immediately. The signals were from a nest whose antenna chains were exact duplicates of their own. The archives reported that their existence meant that at the time of the nest’s formation, it had split into two identical nests and the antenna chains had been duplicated in a way that left some of their atoms tied together. The events the gametes observed in one nest created resonant signals in the other no matter how far apart they were.

Hoping it was doing the right thing, A5CD2 began processing the echo signals separately. Maybe they would help the nest understand what was happening to their duplicate.

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The afternoon was filled with work and planning. Ivan and Lisa decided to try to get extra space next to George, the girls helped Ivan pack his inventory into their camper and trailer and move it to the parking area. George and Lisa sorted inventory and planned which toys the girls would play with according to the amount of inventory and the profit margin.

To celebrate their success and Courtney’s freedom, George took his girls to dinner at a fancy restaurant. He explained that he hated waiting to be served, so he only ate at buffet restaurants. He also liked to sample different delicacies.

When they’d filled their plates and begun to eat, he noticed Courtney had selected only the modest fare he assumed her mother had restricted her to. “One of the reasons for going to an expensive restaurant is to sample foods that are too expensive for every day. It is a waste of money if you only eat what we have at home. Try this!” he ordered, holding a bite of crab salad to her lips.

With a shiver of pleasure, Courtney opened her lips. “Can I have some of that?” Cary pleaded without taking her eyes off Courtney’s face.

“Don’t you already have some?” George asked, making a point of looking at her plate.

“Yeah, but it isn’t as good as what you gave her. Look at her face.”

“You didn’t specify that you wanted some of that. The look on her face isn’t from the food, it was caused by the order I gave. I’d be happy to order you around, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t affect you that way. You’d just get mad.”

“She looked like she just had sex. Did you do something to make her act like that?” Cary asked as George fed Courtney an olive.

“She was treated to turn her into a slave so the her controllers could order her to do what they wanted, including sex. Part of the conditioning used sex as a reward whenever she obeyed and pain as a punishment. So now, she gets turned on whenever I order her to do anything or when she obeys my orders. Are you sure you’d like that?” Then, holding a strawberry, he ordered, “Open!”

“Probably not the ordering part, but she sure looks like she gets off better than my mother and her boyfriends ever did. Do you like her like that?”

George was surprised to note that Courtney was responding to being talked about. “Most men prefer women who are submissive, and I will admit that I definitely like it better than arguing with someone like your mother.”

“So you’re saying she’s like a slave all the time, not just for pretend when she wants sex? Does she have to do what you tell her?”

“Tell her what happens if you try to disobey,” George ordered.

With a blush and shiver, Courtney answered, “It hurts! Bad!”

“That’s actually part of what makes the pleasure so intense. It’s like being happy or sad. A person who’s had a shitty life needs less to be really happy. For her, the intensity of the pleasure is greater compared to the severity of the pain.”

“Can anyone order her around, or is it just you?”

“We’re still worried that some of the people who conditioned her might still be able to give her orders, but other than that, it’s just me.”

“If you could order me like that, would I be more attractive to you?” Cary asked softly.

“Not only would you be more attractive, you be a better person. Your mother thinks mostly of herself, so she’s never satisfied with any of the men she’s lived with and she’s not a very good mother. When a woman commits herself to make a man happy, she stops thinking about herself. She is almost always happier and always a better mother.”

“Did you know George likes it when I feed him with my fingers?” Courtney asked. She obviously didn’t expect an answer as she pushed a strawberry against his lips hard enough to make it drip and then wiped the juice with her finger as soon as he’d opened.

“She’s happy because she isn’t thinking about herself,” George explained.

After thinking about it for a while, Cary started competing to see who could get the most through his lips. Eating turned into an intimate game that left them all delirious with pleasure. For the rest of the evening, Cary was quiet.

After dinner, they stopped at a fancy store where George bought both girls matching dresses. Shopping for clothes was a new experience for Courtney. She’d never been given a choice. Her mother just brought home what she was allowed to wear. She hadn’t even been allowed in Wal-Mart after the shoplifting. Though Cary had more experience, she still didn’t know much about fashion.

For Courtney, the store was the equivalent of a brothel to a Quaker child. It wasn’t that it was shocking, it was simply outside her frame of reference. She had no clue about what she should do or say. She understood clothes in the same way an innocent Quaker child understood men and women, but could not fathom the effect they had on a person’s attitude and appearance.

George found a young woman to help them and explained that Courtney was helping him sell toys by playing. He emphasized that the younger she appeared to be, the more successful their business would be. He apologized for not having the least idea about the kind of clothes and hairstyle that would have the greatest effect and asked for her help. As soon as he had delegated the task, George pulled out his laptop and began planning the orders he would need to place on Monday, assuming the delegated task would be completed as requested.

The sales clerk introduced herself and took the girls to a part of the store dedicated to under garments. After discussing the relative merits of different styles, Courtney chose a matching set of bra and panties and insisted upon getting George’s approval. When she held them up for George to see, she was dismayed by his frown. Cary just stood by watching.

“Ma’am, what is your name?” he asked, with frank disapproval.

“Nicole, sir. These would look hot on Courtney.”

With frost in his voice, added to the frown, George rumbled, “I see that you paid absolutely no attention to my request. Are you ready to listen now, or do we have find someone else who is willing to help satisfy a request?”

“Please accept my apology. If you will explain what you need again, I will make sure we get it right this time,” Nicole answered meekly.

“Okay, Nicole. What we want are clothes that will make Courtney appear as young and innocent as possible. I want her to try on whatever you select and then I need to see it while she is wearing it to be sure it’s right. No panty hose or stockings. And decide how her hair should be arranged for best effect. What ever works for her, we need a matching set for Cary.”

Clearly upset, Nicole answered, “I’m sorry sir, but we’re not allowed to have the customers outside the dressing rooms dressed only in underwear.”

“Use this,” George said, handing her a wireless camera. “Now do you understand the purpose of the clothes we want to buy?”

“Yes sir”

“And can you find underwear that will suit that purpose better than these?”

“Please accept my apology. I’ll get it right this time,” Nicole acquiesced.

For the next hour, Courtney changed clothes over and over again, until they tried a flowered sundress. Finally, George smiled and nodded his approval. “Very nice,” was his only comment.

Turning to Nicole, he asked, “Is this style available in other colors and prints? She looks 15, do you think pig tails would help?”

“Yes and probably, or a ponytail. I have to admit, I didn’t think we’d get this much of an effect. She is a remarkable girl.” Thanking her and promising they’d be back for more of the dresses, they left for home.

On the way home, George marveled at the changes a few days had brought. His appetite was sated, he had a pretty girl at his side and his path had been strewn with roses. Finally, they were home and after undressing, his Angel asked him to help her into bed again. Life just couldn’t get any better.

Then Cary, in an equal state of undress, asked, “Is it my turn now?”

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A soul satisfying slumber slowly relaxed its grip on George’s mind. For the first time in years, he woke in the same position in which sleep had claimed him. The pleasure of Courtney’s breast cupped between his fingers overwhelmed the pain of his joints when he tried to move. The tiny shifts of his hand and fingers produced a response, which George felt as a growing pressure from the nipple against his palm. Then he felt the flatter chest of his granddaughter against his back and the pleasure changed to guilt.

The problem was he felt guilt even though he knew he’d made the right choice. He believed her life was threatened, he believed she’d only come because she wanted a baby and he was absolutely certain she’d stay only as long as she expected to succeed. He’d made the only choice he could.

If he let Courtney sleep with him, but refused Cary, there’d be hell to pay. Courtney needed contact, so he was forced to let Cary into his bed. It was an emotional trap. He’d always been caught in one when dealing with women.

Then he wondered if the traps were the work of The Engineers. This one was certainly their fault. And why hadn’t they finished the interrupted message last night. He and Cary had dosed themselves several times the day before. They claimed he was in danger from a host of enemies so he didn’t dare refuse their help, but he didn’t like dealing with someone whose motives were unfathomable.

After letting the uncertainties tie his mind in knots, he was finally ready to get up. He decided to extract himself from the hold of the girls while they were still partly asleep. Once on the floor, he could give orders that would reduce the teasing and temptations. Instead, they settled back, so George let them be while he showered. They didn’t stir until he was finishing breakfast. “I not waiting for you sleepy heads. Get up and ready as soon as you can and be sure to put on your new dresses,” he ordered.

Exiting the motor home, he found Ivan and his family already at work erecting a canopy on poles over the adjacent space. The tables and shelves were quickly rearranged so that the combined spaces had only one entry-exit point. Dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, Courtney appeared a few minutes later and began pulling boxes out of the back of the motor home while the others worked to put it all on display. Finally, when the work was done, Cary joined them.

Wondering about his orders, George decided he’d find out what was going on when there was less chance of an argument.

At 7 when Cici and Jo-jo arrived, everything was as ready as any Christmas morning in a home with a happy family. They each reached into the first box and pulled out a dinosaur hand puppet and then, together they spread out a large plastic sheet covered with images of the ferns, volcanoes, and rivers of a dinosaur habitat. The 5 girls immediately started laughing and squabbling as if trying to recapture a childhood they’d somehow missed.

The crowd began to gather quickly. Children found themselves enthralled and parents, even those with older teenagers, either had to drag their offspring away or leave them behind. The sales trickled in steadily until, shortly after sunrise, George sent Courtney in to change into her new sundress. When she returned, she'd redone her hair in a ponytail that stood up near the top of her head and then cascaded down in a honey colored flow to the middle of her back.

As she returned to the play table, every eye was glued to her face. The expressions of surprise that played across it as new toys were pulled from the boxes captured the attention of her audience and reminded them of the happiness they hoped to bring their own children on Christmas morning. The sales became a flood, as the dinosaur fossils disappeared, followed by a hundred giant weather balloons, talking switchplates, dream catchers, jars of magic snow, solar powered spotlights and magic magnetic rings.

Time seemed to flow like a roller coaster rocketing down a hill when attention was focused on a new unusual toy and then slowing to a near stop when a box was emptied of its final treasure and replaced with another. The only thing that seemed constant was the slow accumulation of people fascinated by the joy that Courtney provoked between her friends.

The only words that George could find to describe the presentation in which Courtney played the leading role was sensuous-innocence. Whatever it was, George wasn’t the only person who found it compelling. With Ivan and Lisa to help collect the money, George had more time to watch. It didn’t take long for him to conclude that there was something happening that wasn’t natural.”

The crowd kept growing until the aisle was completely blocked. When customers stopped moving, the sales began to slow, so a break was called for lunch. The table was set in front of the entrance to the booth and everyone sat down to eat the sandwiches Lisa had prepared. While they were eating, the swap meet security team drove up on golf carts.

“You people have been creating a bit of a stir. We love it when people succeed, but we really have to find some way to keep your customers from blocking off access to the other vendors. I don't suppose you have any suggestions about how to do that?” ask the man in charge. George was amused at how far he was bending in order to avoid giving offense.

“We understand and share you concern. Please believe me, it is as big a concern for us. The only thing I can think of is a couple of people to direct traffic. Our own sales almost stopped because people only wanted to watch the show.” George answered. “It might help if we took a break every 15 minutes and chased all the watchers off. Could you make our aisle a one-way street?”

Turning to his own people, the security director ordered, “He seems to have as good a plan as any. You two stay here and follow his orders.” Turning back to George and holding out a card, he added, “Call me if you need anything else.”

With traffic being ushered through, the afternoon’s activity seemed to flow as smoothly as a river at flood stage. Normally, the swap meet was over for all intents and purposes by 2 in the afternoon, but the flood to George’s booth didn’t begin to abate until around 4 and there were still customers waiting in line at 5.

George let Ivan and Lisa complete the final sales while he and Courtney began packing and stowing. The extra space was quickly emptied and the tarps were being hung from the canopy when George’s intuition warned him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cary duck into the pickup as the hair on the back of his neck prickled. Looking around, trying to pinpoint the threat, he finally spotted two men dressed in dark suits approaching down the aisle.

Courtney had just finished his latest order and when she looked to him for another, she sensed his tension. Running to his side, she grabbed his hand to lend her loyalty in support against the threat she couldn’t see. Without understanding how or why, George felt his confidence and determination explode. The magic he sensed after rescuing her from the hospital was back.

Without waiting, he dragged her in a charge to confront the threat. “Are we talking or fighting?” he challenged.

With a smirk, one of the suits answered, “From the description of the unique style of confrontation we were given, my guess would be that I’m talking to George Marshal. I’m agent Thomas of the FBI,” he added, holding out his hand.

Ignoring the outstretched hand, George demanded, “You didn’t answer my question and if you are who you claim to be, I’m sure you’ll understand my need for proof. Why don’t you start by telling me how you found us,” he finished in a voice intended to freeze water.

“If you’re really as good as we’ve been told, you already know that there’s only one way we could know where you were and you also know who to call to be sure of who we are. We need your help, and you need ours even more,” the other agent said as the apparently contagious smirk infected him.

Without a word, George pulled out his cell phone. When he spoke, he was sure to do so in a voice that couldn’t be ignored by the offending pair.

“Hello, sheriff Dansie? By any chance did you happen send a pair of Feds my way? … Yeah, they obviously think they are intimidating me by having tracked the cell signal instead of calling. Are they a threat? …. Do you remember what we were worried about? … Did you get a chance to verify that they were the two you were expecting? … Yeah, well that is the way the Feds are. Was there anything else that you weren’t expecting? … Well, I do appreciate everything you did to help, so even though they’re obviously a couple of arrogant pigs, I’ll listen to see if there is anything we can do to make life easier for you. … Do you have anyone else we can work with? … See if you can get me a name and number and leave it on voice mail. Ask them to stand by for an hour. … I’ll call you tomorrow with a new cell number and I would really appreciate a heads up before you give it out, especially to the Feds. That reminds me, Courtney needs an attorney to handle probate. Could you find someone honest up there and have him give me a call? … Yeah, keep me posted on anything you might need either of us for and we’ll try to come back as soon as we can to visit and thank everyone who helped. … Say hi to Deedee and Mabble for us, Goodbye.”

“Okay, the Sheriff confirmed that you’re a pair of assholes. As soon as we finish packing up, we’ll find a restaurant where we can sit and you can make your pitch,” George spoke as if to a pair of juvenile delinquents. “But you really ought to approach people you expect to help you with more respect and courtesy.”

Turning away as the agent was opening his mouth, George interrupted with an order thrown over his shoulder, “If you still want to talk, we’ll be leaving in that pickup through the west gate. If you get lost, you can always use your tracking to follow, unless I can find someone to borrow a cell phone from before then.” That George’s insults were ignored raised his hackles even higher.

As they finished packing, Courtney caught a tune Cary was humming. She had no idea where she’d learned them, but the words were clear in her mind;

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