"Anamnesis" Chapter Seven

Anamnesis ©
Chapter Seven
By Fiction Writer #13
( nosex, incest, brother, sister, teen, footplay, sci-fi, paranormal)

"Just the two of you?" the chipper white haired hostess asked almost as soon as Robbie and Steph entered the air conditioned breakfast diner.

The woman moved around the cash register holding two plastic laminated menus. "Right this way."

As she led the pair to their booth, she made some small talk. "So, you two just passing through, or staying for a while?"

"Hmm... what a coincidence." The elderly woman stopped and placed the menus down on the top of their table, indicating that this was where they should sit. "Your waiter is from Highland."

After waiting for them to sit, the woman identified as Ginny by her plastic name tag spoke up again. "You two make a cute couple, how long have you been dating?"

"Oh! Sorry, I make that mistake all the time." A sly smile passed over her lips. "I'll just go and tell Greg, your server, that I've seated you."

Both Steph and Rob Smiled and nodded thanks to the kindly Ginny as she sauntered away, leaving them to peruse the menu in peace.

"Yeah Rob?" she asked, her eyes not leaving the images of sunny side up eggs, waffles dusted with powdered sugar, and stacks of pancakes.

Her eyes were still locked on the photographic promises before her. "No," her lower lip pushed out slightly, "can't say it does. Why?"

"No reason." Rob pulled his menu up and held it in front of his face while scanning his options.

For a moment Steph almost let the question drop away, but then something clicked behind her brown eyes. "Is that the name of your little dream girl?"

Rob raised his menu another inch, hiding his face from Steph's wicked grin. "Maybe, I don't know."

"Awww..." Steph taunted from across the wood laminate table, "Robbie and Sarah sittin' in a tree."

"Knock it off, Steph, I'm serious. That name's been stuck in my head since yesterday and I can't figure out why." Rob chanced a glance over the edge of his menu. "Are you sure it doesn't sound familiar?"

She shook her head. "Nope. But I have to admit, I'm getting a little jealous of her."

"Ohhh... that's not teasing." Under the table Steph kicked off one of her sandals, raised her bare foot between Rob's legs, and then pressed her toes into his crotch "This is teasing."

Rob gasped at his sister's contact with his groin. "Steph, knock it off," he hissed between clenched teeth.

"Knock what off?" she asked innocently. Above the table everything looked normal, but below her foot began sliding up and down over the rapidly growing lump in her brother's shorts.

"Steph!" Rob dropped his hands down to his crotch, grasped the smooth foot and tried to push it away. "You're making a scene. Someone's going to see."

Steph pulled her foot away. "So what if they do? They don't know us. We don't know them. We'll never be back here again. What's the big deal?"

As soon as Rob thought she had abandoned her game he pulled his hands away. Steph took that moment to change up her attack. She pointed her toes, moved her leg slightly more to the right, and then plunged forward. Her toes slid over the tender skin of Rob's inner thigh, dipped under the hem of his shorts, and continued on until she made contact with his underwear covered hardon.

"I'm just going to ignore you," Rob huffed, and then returned to hiding behind his menu.

Steph readjusted once again, her toes wiggling their way into the tight white cotton to dance along Rob's trembling shaft and balls. She smiled to herself as she worked on him, her own eyes returning to the menu before her. "I, will not, be ignored."

His dick felt so hot against the cool skin of her foot. She traced the shape of it with her big toe, her mind filling in the details from memory. 'There's the head, that's his slit, the little bump of skin that makes him... '

Rob jumped slightly in his seat, his body shuddered. Still he put on like nothing was going on, even though his face was beet red and his breathing ragged.

Slickened with his precum, she slowly moved lower and lower. Her big toe pressed into his tightening scrotum, gently rolling his testes around inside. She enjoyed how soft and spongy this part of his anatomy felt beneath her foot, reveled in the knowledge that she could make him cum if she kept this up, or end his pleasure with a quick jab. 'I could, but I won't. He doesn't know that though. In his head he's thinking that I might,' she grinned wickedly to herself. It made her feel in control... and Steph liked being in control.

Stephanie raised her eyes expecting to see that her brother had been the one who spoke her name. In that micro second it took to look up, she realized that it hadn't been Rob's voice at all. Her eyes locked onto those of a young man who stood not ten feet away holding a tray laden with two glasses of OJ.

The young man just stood there, staring at her as his face turned ash white and his eyes grew too large. Steph watched as the tray suddenly tilted to his left. The glasses crashed to the floor and shattered against each other, sending a spray of orange liquid in all directions. The people seated next to him screamed as they were covered in broken glass and juice. His eye lids began to flutter closed, his jaw went slack, and then, as if someone had just liquefied his bones, he dropped to the floor to join the broken glasses.

Steph was out of the booth as soon as the kid fell, but she wasn't as quick as some of the other diners. They crowded around him, trying to offer their help before she could reach him. Her line of sight was swallowed up by them, the young man disappearing behind a wall of good Samaritans.

"What happened?" Her brother was standing behind her as she tried to see over the group huddled in front of her.

She stood on her tip toes, one sandaled and the other still bare. "I don't know he just passed out."

One of the men crouching over the kid began to take control. "Alright! Everyone back the hell up and give him some room!"

As one the gathered crowd shuffled away, but not too far. Rob and Steph once again found themselves back at their booth. Seeing no other option and not wanting to be pushed further away, they took their seats and watched.

"What's wrong with him?" The kindly old Ginny hovered over the fallen man, her faced etched with worry. "He was perfectly fine not twenty seconds ago."

The man helping held the kid's wrist, feeling for a pulse. "I think he just passed out. What's his name?"

The kneeling guy tilted Greg's head up and gently began patting his cheek. "Hey... hey Greg. Can you hear me? You still there, buddy?"

Greg's head moved a little, his eyes fluttered open and closed a few times, and he let out a tiny moan.

"Okay... I think he's coming around. Is there anywhere here a little less crowded?" Ginny pointed to the back of the restaurant, specifically to a table littered with coffee cups and ashtrays filled with half smoked butts. "Okay, let's get him up and over there."

Even with Greg still half out of it, the man got him to his feet and started walking him away. A busboy ran over as soon as they were gone, cleaning up the broken glass and wiping up the mess. A minute later there was no sign that anything had just happened.

Under the table Steph slipped her sandal back on after a little blind searching. "Yeah. I think he was our waiter."

Rob let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, well, when everyone started screaming, I thought that someone saw what you were doing to me under the table."

Steph didn't return his laugh, her thoughts were elsewhere. "Hey um, did you hear him say anything before he passed out?"

"This is gonna sound nuts, but I think he said my name." Steph leaned over and peered down the long isle between the booths, trying to see if Greg was okay.

Rob put his menu down and looked at his sister. Her face looked strained as she tried to force her eyes to see farther than they could. "Why would some waiter in a diner out in the middle of nowhere know your name?"

"I don't know, but I swear he was looking right at me when he collapsed." She pulled herself back into the booth and shook her head. "I don't know, maybe I'm just too tired to think straight."

Ten-thousand miles away, a man makes his way up a flight of cut stone stairs. Below him he leaves behind a vast network of tunnels and rooms cut out of the solid rock with laser precision. Above him the stairs end at a small, rough crack in the red rock.

Squeezing through the gap, the other side is a completely different world. He is in a narrow cave that twists and turns, its jagged ceiling and rough floor drops and rises in random peaks and valleys. Finally he sees daylight ahead. Well, not daylight, but the bright lights his team has set up at the cave's entrance.

At his side, hanging from his waist, his walkie talkie suddenly comes back to life with a loud squelch that echoes all around him. It's the first piece of electronics to work since he passed this point on his way into the structure. That was nearly twelve hours ago. Twelve hours with absolutely no contact with the surface.

He steps through the cave mouth and raises a hand to shield his eyes from the harsh artificial light. He gets no more than ten steps out into the cool Australian night before one of his men is beside him.

"Don't call me Sir out here." He doesn't stop to talk; he keeps walking towards his tent. He un-slings his canvass backpack and unbuckles the straps holding it closed. From it he extracts what looks like an oversized deep blue marble. The light from the spots bounce around inside of it, almost making it to appear as if lightning were contained within. "When we're in the field, in civvie land, call me Jonathan."

"Yes Sir, I, uh, mean Jonathan." The young soldier dressed in khaki stared at the smooth sphere in awe. "Is that... is that really it?"

Jonathan pulled the flap of his tent open and ducked quickly inside. "If it's not... we're all fucked."

Inside the tent the light was less harsh, but it was still bright. A dozen or so computers and video monitors surrounded the outer tent walls, in the center sat a large array of communications equipment. There was little space left to lie down and sleep, but Jonathan rarely if ever closed his eyes.

The monitors each showed a different view of Ayers Rock, Uluru to the locals. They had hoped to get some installed on the inside, but nothing seemed to work in there. The computers were unmanned but still hard at work analyzing the data collected so far. Aboriginal drawings were being cross referenced with the new images discovered on the inside. Uluru had always been a place of magic and mystery for the local population; little did they know just how right they were in their thinking.

Jonathan turned to find the youngest member of his team still standing at the tent entrance. "Yes, Jim, come on in."

"The two civilians that we found inside have been transported to Alice Springs." The unarmed soldier moved deeper into the tent. "I doubt they'll say anything out of the ordinary to the press, they just seemed happy to be rescued."

"Good, good. What about our cover story?" Jonathan sat down and pulled out his laptop from beneath a large map of the immediate area. "Is it still flying?"

Jonathan nodded to himself. The Aussie's have always been an ally that could be trusted, it was one of the reasons that the Council members chose to do so much of their personal business here. Much like in the States, where the government was almost completely in the dark about project Phoenix, there were a few in top positions of the Australian Parliament who were privy to some details.

Project Phoenix had gone international in 1980, much to the dismay of many. Jonathan wasn't one of them; he understood that this was a global threat. If they ignored the rest of the world and only protected their own borders, how long would it take before the rest of the world came knocking?

Jon's eyes scanned the screen of his laptop, his fingers pounding the keys at lightning speed. After typing in several pass-codes he accessed his own personal surveillance system, one set up to monitor a rather unremarkable home by a lake that was tucked away deep in a forest in New York State. Normally images of both the inside and outside of the home would have been beamed directly to him, but today there was nothing, just static.

"Sir?" The concerned soldier moved closer to see what his superior was speaking of but didn't get a chance.

Jon reached over and flipped a switch on the communications console, dialed in the frequency of the private satellite that he had commandeered, and then typed in the destination for his signal to be sent. He waited patiently for the return pulse letting him know that a secure connection had been made with the Highland facility, but none came.

"Radio ahead; tell them to get Aurora Five ready for me." Jonathan slapped the laptop closed and stood up, sending his seat crashing to the floor. "I have to get back to Highland ASAP."

"I'm sorry, Sir, we're under strict orders to keep you here." The young man really did sound apologetic.

The man before him couldn't even look him in the eyes as he spoke. "The Council, Sir. The order came down as soon as you entered the temple."

"That's it? They just want me held here?" Jon waited for an answer, but one didn't come.

"You know more than what you're letting on. Tell me, Jimmy." Jon leaned in close to the younger man. "You owe me that much."

"Fuck, I didn't sign up for this shit." Jim moved away from the tent's only exit. "The order was to kill you if you tried to leave. Some of us wanted to disregard it, we owe you too much to shoot you in the back like that, but the new guys, they... they seem different. Not like us. They threatened to dispatch anyone who violated the order."

Jon knew exactly what Jim meant about the new soldiers that he had been forced to integrate into his ranks. In many ways they were perfect, but something about them was off, they were too perfect. For the last month or so he had begun to wonder if the Super Soldier program that he himself had been created in, had actually ever been closed. Today he had his answer.

"There's more." Jim looked around to make sure he wasn't being overheard. "Something's happening. Something big. Back at home base."

"I think it's some kind of coup, something about a change in command." Jim shook his head. "What the hell is going on, Jon?"

Jon gnashed his teeth together in a snarl. "It's Donovan. The Council is making their move on Dr. Whelan and Donovan is their lead dog."

"A mistake." Jon paced back and forth fuming. "I need to get back. I need to get back before it's too late." Suddenly he stopped and turned to face Jim. "I can’t order you to, but… will you help me?"

"My... my deuce needs OJ," Greg groaned, his head lolling to the side as his eyes slowly opened.

Ginny smiled. "Don't you go worrying about your damned tables, you gave us quite a scare there."

Greg regained control of his neck muscles and his eyesight slowly came back into focus. "What? What happened?"

"You passed out, sweetie." Ginny handed him a small cup of juice. "Drink this; it'll help get your blood sugar back up."

"Thanks Ginny." Greg took a big sip before he noticed the strange man standing next to Ginny.

"Greg, this is doctor Dave." Ginny patted the man's shoulder. "He's the one who took care of you when you fell."

"I'm an EMT, not a doctor," the man laughed, then took a seat across from Greg. The table in front of them filled with the remnants of half finished coffee's and cigarettes left behind by the restaurant staff, mostly its wait staff. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Confused, but better." Greg polished off the last of his juice. "Gin, can I bum a smoke?"

Gin looked to Dave the EMT, but when he didn't speak up against smoking, she pulled one of her Marlboros free and handed it over. Greg took the smoke with a nod of thanks and pulled a match free from one of the many packs scattered about the table. A quick strike, a flare of fire, the sharp smell of sulfur, and Greg soon had a lung full of nicotine.

"Well, looks like your going to be okay." Dave stood up and turned to Ginny. "Keep him off his feet for a little while. If he starts to get dizzy, have someone take him home to get some rest. If he blacks out again, get him to a doctor."

Greg watched as the man left the diner before he asked Ginny, "How long was I out?"

"Well, you've been in and out for about a half an hour. I wanted to call 911, but Dave said that you'd be okay." Ginny put his hand in hers. "You really gave me quite a fright!"

"Yeah... I don't know what happened. One second I'm taking drinks to my table, the next I'm..." Greg suddenly stopped talking and a strange look flashed over his face. For a second Ginny thought he was going to go out again but then he came out of it. "There was a girl."

"Where is she?" Greg pushed his way out of the booth and past Ginny, his eyes searching the diner.

"That girl! That... that was!" Greg gave up his search, she was no longer there. "When did she leave?"

Ginny stuttered as she looked into the wild eyes of the normally calm young man. "Sh... sh... she just left. Not ten minutes ago."

"I'm sorry." Greg pulled out his book of checks and handed it over to the shocked hostess. "I've got to go. I've got to find her."

With that he was off, running down the isle of the crowded restaurant as Ginny tried in vain to call him back. "Greg! Come back!"

He didn't listen; didn't even hear her. He was out the front door and swallowed up by the hot and humid morning in less than a blink of an eye. The hum of the highway filled his ears with the white noise of traffic as he rounded the corner of the building on his way to the parking lot.

"Shit!" Greg just barely avoided getting hit by a blue car as it tried to exit the lot. Behind the wheel sat a teenaged boy with blond hair and blue eyes. The poor kid looked like he was about to shit himself over the near miss. Greg recognized him instantly, the same was true for the car's passenger who was already unbuckled and climbing out the opened door.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" Stephanie asked the poor waiter as he sat on the ground, staring up at her in disbelief.

"You... you're supposed to be dead!" He pointed a shaky accusing finger at her. "I thought you were dead!"