# Note to Readers
This story has a surprise ending. I am posting it for you to read in the hope some of you will be willing to help. I need you to guess who/what the swarm is in order for me to determine if I have given enough clues so you'll feel you should have guessed, but not enough to give away the ending. Please send your guesses to gnilgdelf@gmail.com.

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# Prologue

# A Virgin to Lie in Thy Bosom

Something Is Wrong Here!
The Other Side of the Story
First Contact
Master the Tempest is Raging
My Soul’s Mate
Is Willing-Slave an Oxymoron?
Insight of a Superior Mind
Rescue

Unwilling Master, Willing Slave

A Life of Betrayal
With the Help of Angels
The Best Defense is a Good Offense
Shock and Awe

    Key Words

And the Wall Came Tumbling Down

Unintended Consequences

Chapter 18

A Warning from the Nest and the Swarm

TAS92ZB and his pod had finally been dispersed and after only a brief period, had ceased communicating. The only worthwhile information they had sent back was that the conditions for propagation weren’t yet available. TAYG7TM and his pod had received all the necessary information and instructions to take over the responsibility for communications for the swarm.

One of the reports TAYG7TM had received explained that the nest the essence was associated with was one of a duplicate pair. The report was understandable but did not explain how the duplicate nest could each contain duplicate gametes. It would be like two of the segments in the swarm being copies of each other, something that was virtually impossible.

But there was no question that the pod was receiving two separate signals with identical signatures both purporting to be from A5CD2 and originating from two separate sources.

In spite of not understanding the source, TAYG7TM did understand that the nest was very important to the possibility of propagation, and so the fact that one of the signals was a cry for help made it mandatory that the call for help be forwarded to the Mainframe.

One of the duplicate A5CD2’s concurred and they both began broadcasting virtual memories.

--------------------------------------------

George was filled with dread the minute he woke. The fear was intangible, but so all consuming, he could hardly breathe. Something had been left undone, but he wasn’t sure what. The Engineers told him he needed to be in Lincoln County. Part the fear resolved into dismay that he wasn’t there already.

The clock said 5:30; maybe it wasn’t too late. The urgency was so intense, he couldn’t see past the compulsion to go and go quickly. Was this the way Courtney felt?, he wondered.

The compulsion produced mixed feelings. His priority was to protect Courtney, and whatever it was he feared, it had to involve a threat to her. Still, he didn’t like being pushed to act irrationally, even by his own subconscious. Reluctantly, he shook the girls awake. “Courtney, wake up and dress as quickly as you can,” he ordered as he slid out of bed. Soberly, he watched her slide out and dress without a word. “Cary, something’s wrong that I have to fix. I can’t take you with us. Can I trust you to stay with Ivan and Ilya?”

“I know. They told me. I’ll be good,” she promised.

“You need to take a drop of medicine every ten minutes while we’re gone.” George told her as he grabbed a sack and threw some food into it. Seeing Courtney dressed, he ordered, “Take these to the pickup.” He followed with the medicine and they were driving away in minutes. Even though the rush worried Courtney, her faith left no room for anything but a mild concern that her help wouldn’t be enough. George, on the other hand, was tortured by a twisting in his gut.

When he’d awakened, the fear had been so intense, he hadn’t been able to see past it to the cause. Once he was on his way, the pressure eased and he remembered The Engineer’s warning. A trickle of understanding seeped in to replace the dread.

The people involved were too many for one girl. He’d deduced that early on. But it hadn’t occurred to him that Courtney wasn’t the only girl immediately at risk. He had to find the others. He knew there were a lot of girls being trained, but for the first time, he realized that some of them might be in as much trouble as Courtney. The idea of leaving even one to suffer was untenable. Anxiety replaced fear once its cause was apparent.

“Courtney, if there are other girls that are being enslaved, what would you want me to do about it?”

The dread touched Courtney’s face for the first time and George winced over the want in his question. “You don’t have to ask Master. I know you’d do everything you could to save her. You can’t do anything else and that is why I love you.” Her trust pushed the anxiety back a little more.

“What if the same thing happens? What if we find one and the only way to save her is to let her be my slave? What will it do to you if another girl can’t live, refuses to be saved unless she can touch me the way you need to? What can I do? I can’t lose you but I couldn’t stand it if I could save another girl and didn’t.”

“Master, you can’t lose me. If you save a thousand girls and I’m only one of them, I’ll be happy. I love you because you will save her. You can’t be anybody but the man who can’t bear to let an innocent girl be sold.”

With her answer, another part of the dread dissipated. “Okay, we’ll find them. Try to remember if there are any other girls in your school that didn’t talk. They may have been set up like you were at Wal-Mart.”

“I’m sorry Master, but I didn’t ever talk to anyone at school. I was always so worried and unhappy, I never even thought about anyone else.”

“Do you remember the doctor talking about another patient?”

“That was so long ago, I’ll have to think. Isn’t there some other way to find her?” Her question caught George’s attention. Why did Courtney ask about “her” as if there was one girl? Was her question phrased that way unintentionally?

“There are a lot of possibilities once we get there. How many high schools does Lincoln County have? I probably have the clues to find them, I just can’t put it together yet.”

“There are three.” Courtney had been thinking about George’s questions and finally started making connections of her own. “So you think the other girl might have been pushed to shoplift at Wal-Mart and referred to the doctor too?” There it was again, the singular girl.

“Actually, I’m sure they did more than that. According to your mother's papers, your parents’ divorcing was planned, you being shunned at school was arranged and the way your mother treated you was programmed. I wouldn’t surprise me if your mother wasn’t your birth parent. I think there’s a good chance they chose your parents like thoroughbred horses or dogs, so you’d have the right type of personality.

“I don’t want you to feel bad. I love you the way you are. I think you’re perfect. I believe you’re perfect, not because of chance, but because someone chose your parents with just the right genes so that you would be perfect. They wanted you to be perfect because perfect girls sell for a higher price.

“But they weren’t satisfied with perfect genes. Most of a girl’s personality is determined by her family, so they programmed your whole life. They chose your parents, they decided where you’d live and they meddled with everything that ever happened until I came along.

“So everything that happened to you is a clue. You can help by thinking of all things you can remember. Your birthdays, vacations, holiday celebrations, the churches you attended, doctors and dentist and even the sports you played. We’re going to start with the Court and the sheriff, so try to remember everything that happened when you were arrested.”

“Just the idea of her having to live without a father, without friends and now, without you makes me so sad. I can almost see how sad her life is like a movie or a dream. Do you really think we can find her?” Courtney asked.

“Courtney, several times, you’ve referred to her as if the girl we’re looking for is just one. Is there a reason you think there is one girl or that one of the girls is special or in more danger?”

“It isn’t anything I can explain, it’s a feeling.” she answered. “Sometimes I feel like I’m two people who are exactly alike, but now I have you and the other me is alone, sad and in danger. The words don’t explain the way it feels, so I’m not certain I’m telling you something you can trust. I know that the feeling is real and the danger to the other me is bad, but I can’t be sure what it is in the real world where we are. I know that’s confusing, but I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“Strange as it might seem, your feelings correspond with my intuition. I’m having the same trouble defining why I’m so certain she needs us and that time is running out, but I know it is. I wish we could find the answer, but as long we’re stuck here on the way, let’s eat breakfast. Sometimes, when you’ve got a problem you can’t find an answer to, it helps to forget it and do something else. Then when you come back, the solution to the problem is easier to find.”

Courtney was stunned by George’s theories, but after thinking about it, she decided she was happy it had made her a perfect girl for Her Master. With half her attention still working on the things he’d said, she opened the bag of food and laid out the breakfast she was going to feed him. Just the thought of using her fingers to put food in his mouth made her tingle. The other “her” that she could feel was happy too. She stopped worrying and was content to share, even if it was only an ephemeral sharing.

When her fingers touched his lips with the first piece of a granola bar, she gave up thinking of anything but George. The drop of pudding she scooped off his chin and the feel of his tongue licking it conjured an image in her head of a far more erotic act that drove her wild. Long before breakfast was over, the only thing she could think of was how she could get him to put some part, any part of him between her legs. The emptiness at her core ached because it was empty.

She was so caught up in the sensations; she was oblivious to the effect of her fingers. When he reached a state of arousal that threatened to overload his brain, he pulled off the road. Once stopped, he pulled her across his lap, pinned her to his left arm with a kiss and began tearing at her jeans.

As soon as she realized he was doing more than kissing, she became desperate to help him to get to the empty place where she craved his touch. She arched her back to push her pants as far from her hips as her hands could reach. Not satisfied because her pants kept her knees from spreading, she pushed her bare bottom down and pulled them back to push her pants past her knees. Then, by spreading her knees, she slid the offending clothing to her ankles.

As soon as Courtney was exposed, George flipped her back to the passenger’s side on her hands and knees. Then lifting her knees off the seat, he dived face first into her hidden spring. Unable to contain the pleasure, Courtney couldn’t help opening her mouth and releasing the pressure in a wail of happiness. The sensation of penetration caused Courtney to lift with her toes making his tongue drag across her nether lips and up over her sweet spot.

That contact between tongue and button ignited a fuse that launched her into Orbit. The wail grew to a blood curdling scream and every muscle in Courtney’s body spasmed in an impossible stretch. For interminable seconds the launch screamed upward until it reached the quiet of space.

As Courtney’s breathing returned to normal, the picture in her head returned to the part of George she wanted most being pushed through her lips. With urgency even more intense than his had been, she turned and attacked his pants, reaching for the tip of her Master’s erection. As soon as it was exposed, she plunged her lips over it and felt the surge of semen explode almost instantly.

The idea of finally returning the pleasure she’d received to the Master she worshipped eclipsed the sensations of cock and semen. She couldn’t remember anything but the pleasure increasing in an ascending spiral.

Their touching continued to ring the climax like a clapper between bells. George would shiver moving his cock between her lips, which would make her gasp against his prick, which would make him lurch his hips pushing against her tongue, which would move her tongue over his gland, and on, and on, and on. The bells rang in a series of claps decreasing in intensity, finally leaving them stunned after minutes extending to eternity.

Finally, with a sigh, George explained, “I think I understand how the compulsion affects you. I definitely need to find out what they did to make you so sexually responsive. The need to be inside you became so intense, it was all I could do to stop instead of abandoning the wheel and leaving everything to certain doom. I think I should use your conditioning to prevent disaster. I order you to stop teasing whenever the compulsion to act sexually might endanger us.”

Smiling, Courtney answered rationally for a change, “That order might have unintended consequences. The compulsion, as it has developed, seems to be connected to sex. Whenever give me an order, it makes me want sex with you. When I’ve finished doing what you ordered, I need sex even more, especially if you're pleased. If you order me to do something sexy, it feels almost as good as an orgasm. The more urgent your order, the stronger the orgasm and the more I’m compelled to please you.”

“So your order to cease, because of its urgency, may backfire and cause us even more danger. Even now, though your command is for some indefinite future time, its importance is very arousing. Please, George, think carefully about the effect your order might have.”

Shaken by the risk they’d taken, George resolved to be more careful. The compulsion he’d surrendered to was gone, evaporating, as his libido was sated. Now that its overpowering presence was a memory, the need to save another girl was back. It hadn’t abated; it had only been obscured.

“Be careful, we can’t afford the time right now to let ourselves be carried away again,” he ordered. “Will that be safer until we can think through a more general command?”

“Yes Master,” Courtney shivered. An echo of her reaction touched him too. After straightening her clothes, she salvaged what she could of the leftovers from the effect of thrashing body parts, and resumed feeding him more carefully.

Out of the blue, George asked, “Do you think any of the friends you had before your father left might have been other girls being conditioned? Can you remember their names?”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, dear God, I hope not. I invited ten of my best friends to my birthday party when I was 8. We promised we’d be friends forever and now it’s been years since I’ve seen any of them. I hope it isn’t one of them that’s being tortured the way I was.”

“You’re looking at it from the wrong end. When I lost my hand, it was terrible. The pain and the loss of things I could never do again, the feeling of being less than a person were devastating. I’d never want to go through it again, but the person I became because I had to try harder, the things I’ve accomplished because I had to think smarter, were worth the suffering in retrospect. If you had the choice of undoing the torture you suffered by giving me up, would you?”

”Never!”

“Well, when we find her, she may feel the same. We need to be sure we aren’t rescuing her from paradise into purgatory. I can’t believe that's the case, but the only example I have to base that on is you. If someone rescued you, I’m sure neither of us would thank them. Until we know whom and for what the girls have been enslaved, we need to act with caution.”

“The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that my intuition about the girl or girls we need to save is based on clues from people who helped me save you. I can’t tell you what they are or how my subconscious pieced the clues together, but I’m certain that if I ask enough questions we’ll find answers. Please, get a pen and write down everything you can think of about your girl friends. I want to check on all of them.”

The conversation lapsed as he sensed her need to concentrate. Meanwhile, they were close enough to a city to get cell service. First he tried Courtney’s attorney and left a message. Next he called the sheriff. When it was picked up, he pleaded, “Sheriff Dansie? … This is George Marshal. Courtney and I are about 40 minutes away from your office and we need your help. We believe, actually we’re certain that there’s another girl in danger and we need help to find her. … Can you arrange a meeting? We need Mabble Housen, Deedee Haloway, Nurse Hastings and Judge Adams. And if you know of any, a private investigator. … Please see if you can arrange it and call me back. The time we have to find her is limited, so please work quickly.”

As they approached their destination, the urgency grew. He could think of nothing that wasn’t being done and that frustrated him. The frustration grew with the urgency. When the sheriff called, George asked if he could clear his passage with any deputies so he wouldn’t be stopped for speeding and provide an escort if one happened to be available.

When the sheriff returned, George told him, “We need a list of the 12-15 year old girls who’ve been arrested for shoplifting. And please tell Judge Adams we need a Court Order to search a safety deposit box in Mrs. Dobson’s name.”

“Okay, let me get that underway and I’ll call you back,” the sheriff answered.

George was 15 miles away and driving 80-mph hour when a police car with flashing lights pull out a mile ahead. His feeling of dread was easing now that things were in motion. Looking at Courtney, he saw she’d already filled 2 pages and was still writing furiously.

Minutes ticked by, and suddenly, they had arrived. The others were waiting, so George jumped right in. “Do you have the order for the safety deposit box? Can you have a deputy find the banker and bring the box?”

While the sheriff was delegating tasks, the rest of them filed in. When everyone was seated, George asked, “Nurse Hastings, we need the files on all the girls under 20 who were raped in the last 10 years. What problems need to be solved to go through them for clues?”

“I’m the only person with access, so I’d have to bring them. Should I get them now?” the nurse answered as the sheriff returned.

“Please wait so that I can explain what we know and what we’re searching for to all of you at once. When I decided to help Courtney, I started by gathering information. When I’d gathered enough pieces, I started to assemble them to form a picture sort of like a puzzle. The picture that the pieces formed allowed me to deduce facts that were not otherwise available and to make predictions about future actions of the people involved in the crime.

“Since last Friday, we’ve gathered more information, some of which I can’t disclose. Using different facts, Courtney and I each concluded there’s a girl who’s in danger of being kidnapped and sold. It’s likely we have only hours to find her.

“We believe Courtney was bred to be a slave. That her parents were chosen for their genetic traits like dogs so that she’d have a submissive personality. Then her mother and father, who are probably not her real parents, were paid to raise her in an environment that re-enforced her submissive tendency. She was denied friends, forbidden Christmas and birthday presents, and deprived of family by her trainers for the purpose of programming her to be a willing slave.

“At the age of 10, her parents were ordered to divorce. At the age of 14, she was baited to shoplift so that she’d be prosecuted. She was isolated socially. Information about sex and social customs was withheld. Every aspect of her life was controlled to produce a slave who could be sold for the highest price.

“The final piece dropped into place when Courtney’s attorney said he couldn’t believe that all the people arrested here in Lincoln County were employed to program one girl. The notion is absurd. There has to be more than one and now we know one of the others is in as much trouble as Courtney was. There are other pieces of information that indicate that Courtney precipitated the crisis by refusing to take the drugs they were using to control her and running away.

“We have evidence to support the belief that all the girls are being trained according to a common pattern. While there are bound to be some variations, all the girls will probably have experienced some of the same things. So Courtney’s life and experiences are a template for the girl we need to find.

“There’s a chance that the girls were friends as children so it’s a high priority to locate each of her friends. Mabble, do you know someone who could locate her teachers and class pictures?” Seeing her nod, he finished, “Please do.”

“Another priority is to find Courtney’s father. We also need to look for high school girls that are social outcasts. A fourth priority is to create a list of girls arrested between 12-15 years old. I’d like you each to take one of these priorities and enlist as many people as you can to complete it as quickly as possible.

“Any of you who know of girls who’ve gone through any of the events of Courtney’s life, please add their names to a list so they can be checked. Now Nurse Hastings, if you could retrieve those files, maybe you and I can decide the best way to go through them. Sheriff did you find a private investigator?”

“Yeah, he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Judge Adams, I understand that Courtney was arrested at Wal-Mart for shoplifting. How would you suggest we get copies of the case file?”

“We don’t have a Wal-Mart so the case would have been filed in a neighboring county. I can have the County attorney’s office request copies for you,” the Judge suggested.

“Please try to get all the files for Lincoln County teenagers. Do you know the name of the person providing counseling services for the county?”

“That would be Dr. Sheffield.”

“Do you think we might persuade him to come and give us some advice?”

“I’ll call him and see.“

As the Judge turned away to call, a deputy entered with the safety deposit box. Everyone gathered around as Courtney opened it. The first item was a bag of $100 bills. George guessed it contained about $100k.

“Does everyone understand what this tells us?” George asked. Seeing several heads shake, he explained, “It means that Mrs. Dobson was a trusted agent and she was murdered because she let Courtney escape. Judge, what’s the legal status of the money?”

“We don’t have any evidence that it’s ill gotten. The order I signed turned over possession of the box’s contents to her.”

“Would someone call the bank and ask if they can send a clerk with the paperwork for Courtney to open an account,” George asked, before turning to see what was next. Courtney began taking out a dozen prescription drug containers, all from different pharmacies.

“Anyone want to explain what these tell us?” No one volunteered, so George explained again, “These drugs were obviously used to condition Courtney, to keep her under control. This supply, here and available, means that they weren’t finished. They planned on continuing to work on her until at least the end of the school year. When Dr. Sheffield arrives, these will probably allow him to tell us a lot about the methods they used. Judge, can you get someone to subpoena these pharmacies for a record of the sales of each of these drugs for the last 5 years.” The bottles were handed to Mabble and she started working away on a laptop.

The last item in the box was a folder. With the excitement over, everyone went back to work. George opened the folder and there on top was a picture. “Courtney, please come look at this picture.”

As soon as she saw it, Courtney exclaimed, “That’s my parents!”

“Sheriff, here’s the man we need to find. Courtney, give the sheriff a description of the car your father was driving. Deedee, can you get a thousand copies of this picture printed and find some volunteers. We need to cover the County to ask everyone if they’ve seen him. Judge, Courtney told me he was in jail at least once. Can we get copies of the police and court files?”

Things had moved so fast that the room was practically humming. As the Sheriff and Judge collaborated on the latest tasks, Dr. Sheffield and the clerk from the bank both arrived. George directed Dr. Sheffield to Mabble who was still working with the prescriptions bottles and sat Courtney down with the clerk from the bank.

As soon as he looked up from what Courtney was doing, Mabble caught his eye and motioned to him, “I’m afraid I can’t explain to Dr. Sheffield what we need. I just don’t understand everything the way you do.”

For 15 minutes, George explained how Courtney was being conditioned and that they believed it was happening to other girls in the county. “Now about these drugs, could you prepare a report about what they are and how they might be used to condition susceptible teenagers? We’d be happy to pay your fees.”

“I can tell you one thing immediately. The dosage in these pills is dangerously high and probably illegal. I would be very surprised if the manufacturers even knew what the effects might be. I'll do my best, but don't count on any results.”

When he finished, Courtney was waiting. She pulled his head down and whispered, “I need help, Master. They won’t put your name on the account.”

Facing the offending clerk, George asked, “Please explain why you’ve made her unhappy.”

His words had the effect of silencing the whole room. “I’m sorry. I’ll do it the way she wants. If your name is going to be on the account, we’ll need your signature on these forms.”

In a more pleasant tone that allowed the others in the room to resume their tasks, George ordered, “Here is the way I want you to fix it. Set up the account in her name and prepare a power of attorney that allows me to sign for her on the account.” Seeing that the clerk was about to object, George asked, “Would you prefer I call the bank’s president and tell them you didn’t want a customer who expects to carry a half million dollars in her accounts?”

“No Sir, we will do it any way you want.”

“George,” the sheriff interrupted, the Private Detective you wanted is here. Duke, I’d like you to meet George Marshal. George this is Duke LaMont.”

“Duke, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve turned this place into a madhouse and I need someone to keep track of all of the parts of this investigation and make certain nothing gets dropped. How much time can you give us?”

“The sheriff told me how important this is, so you can have as much time as you can afford,” he smiled.

“Sheriff, you didn’t explain how much things have changed? Well, I don’t want to scare our friend here. Why don’t you break it to him that he just offered us the rest of his life.” George’s grin was big enough to swallow Duke’s. “Okay, I’d like you to stick with me and take notes on everything that needs to be done.”

With Duke in tow, George circled the room explaining each task and asking questions about progress. Everyone was excited and busy so George returned to the folder from the safety deposit box. The next document was Courtney’s birth certificate. Picking it up to read it more carefully, he was stunned.

With excitement bordering on hysteria, George shouted, “Listen up everybody, We’ve found her.” A still small voice whispered in his mind. “Well done, you didn’t even need our help.

Without understanding why, George’s excitement brought a song to Courtney’s mind;

Passing time with you in mind
It’s another quiet night
Feel the ground against my back
counting stars against the black
_________
Think about another day
Wishing I was far away
Wherever I dreamed I was
You were there with me
_________
Sister, I hear you laugh
My heart fills full up
Keep me please
Sister, when you cry
I feel your tears
Running down my face
Sister, sister, keep me

    Chapter 19 When Two Halves are More Than a Whole

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Reader's guesses about the story's surprise ending.
A symbiosis between creationism and Darwinism: God created the universe
in the form of a set of rules to which all matter is subject and sat back to look
at the way the universe developed. To be able to see what the results would be
God refrained from tampering. However, the status of the earth in particular has
reached a point in which all her/his (is God female or male?) fun of the experiment
could be lost, so some way of meddling was needed. The most elegant solution is
always the one in which the least effort gives the best desired result, so having the
humans take care of solving the problems in the desired way is the least of efforts
(Oh yeah, ever tried to have somebody else do the right thing...?).
To reach that effect anything goes: angels, parasitic bacteria organised like a termite
state or whatever else works.
___________________
Is this a good vs. evil story line? Is George ( or someone else) on the order of the
Son of God?

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