Evolution (3 page)

1) Write essay 2) Visit Rehabilitation Centre 3) Visit Isis in Hos-sat.

I had no idea I was going to write the third item, but as soon as it’s written down, I know it’s something I must do. It won’t be just a social call. If Oasis is as corrupt as I’m beginning to believe, the future of the latest mutant humanoid to be born could be in jeopardy. I need to make sure my friend and her baby are safe. I cut and paste and put the visit to Isis at the top of my short list. I stare at the three items and once they’re imprinted on my mind delete them.

The next evening I tell Father and Stella that I’ve decided to go to Hos-sat. Stella’s face glows. ‘Well done, Michael. You’re doing the right thing. You won’t regret it.’

Father offers to come with me.

‘No, that’s not necessary. I’m a man now. I don’t need you
to hold my hand. Besides, I’ve got friends there. I won’t be alone.’

The team who did my surgery to transform me from mutant to complete will pleased to see me again: the surgeon, nurses and the therapists, Janey and Moira.

Father agrees to let me go on my own. ‘This is a simple operation compared with the ones you had before and, as you say, you’ll be in good hands. When would you like to go?’

‘As soon as possible,’ I tell him. ‘Tomorrow if possible. Better to get it over with.’

‘Tomorrow might be rather short notice, but I promise to do my best to get you there as soon as possible.’

‘Better make it quick before I change my mind.’

Stella and Father exchange concerned looks.

‘Just joking,’ I assure them but Stella whispers in Father’s ear and he gets up to use the phone in his study. I plump up a peach-coloured silk cushion, plonk it behind my head and close my eyes.

When Father returns he says everything is arranged. I can go to Hos-sat tomorrow. Stella grins like the Cheshire cat in
Alice in Wonderland
.

If she knew what I was really planning, she wouldn’t be so smug. I have no intention of having a vasectomy. Isis is due to give birth any day now and I intend to be there to prevent anything that may affect the safety of the new baby.

My darling boss, that bitch Athene, has invited me to supper in her superior pad in Compound 99, Earth’s flagship. No sign of anything to eat. Straightway she leads me by the hand to her double bunku.

She doesn’t tie me up like she did last time, but allows me to sprawl on my back, my three legs spread wide, my huge square head propped up on the pile of pillows.

‘No need to bind you,’ she says. ‘You know the rules. I trust you, Heracles.’

She trusts me? There’s a thing. Does she really believe I’m the sort of person likely to stick to rules? I quite liked the idea of being in bondage to her but it’s more comfortable un-tethered and I can decide whether or not to take advantage of my freedom later. She leaves me lying on the bed for a few minutes to prepare myself for the treat she has planned. I close my eyes.

It was a shock the first time she danced for me, when she revealed the jungle print on her body: the exotic multi-coloured trees and flowers, birds and creatures in colours the Fauves would have died for. I shall never forget the anticipation I felt as the lights flickered and the music rose in pitch and swelled in volume, the build up to a storm. Her movements grew faster, her body twisting and turning,
keeping pace with the bellow of thunder, the streaks of lightning, the lacerating rain, the panic of squawking parrots flying sky high and the howl of tigers crashing through the undergrowth. Magic. Amazing. And afterwards as the storm subsided and the music and lights faded, I swear I could smell the dampness of the earth and hear the drip, drip, drip from the branches of the trees. Climax achieved, followed by calm, peace and togetherness. Yet it was just a dance. We hadn’t touched. It was all spectacle all illusion, a thrilling, oddly satisfying trick.

Having experienced it once, what will be the effect of a second showing?

Repetition of sex with the same partner is often disappointing. Will this pseudo sexual ritual be similarly lacking in excitement when revisited? I don’t have long to wait to find out.

Slow music with a persistent beat invites me to open my eyes. In she comes dressed in a long white robe. She stands in a spotlight, her back to me, and begins a striptease. Slowly. Small sections of her body are revealed one at a time: a shoulder, an elbow, a buttock and a sole of a foot. I see enough to know that her body is not painted, printed or tattooed as a jungle as before, but as a collage of libidinous, female body parts. A jolt as nipples, pudenda, neck, mouth and eyes appear in unexpected places. One breast on a shoulder blade, another on a thigh; vaginas and labia stamped on her back like lipstick kisses, red, raw. The displaced erogenous zones make a pornographic pattern. She swings round to face me. The lights change colour from green, to pink, to purple. A saxophone moans. Her hips swing, her body twists, the images merge.

An apparition materialises of a dark beauty, lips pouting, eyes sultry, dark breasts with darker nipples. I draw in my breath. A change of light and another female appears, a cool
blond with alabaster hips and thighs. A redhead follows…. How can this be? Athene has made herself into a series of sensual females. Each has her own particular shape, her own manner of moving and her own, very personal scent.

‘Take me,’ each body pleads ‘and you will possess all the women in the world.’

I ease myself up on to my elbows but make no further shift towards her, honouring the trust she has in me. Or so she thinks.

She slinks round the bed, encircling it, tempting me. I can’t help but be aroused by the ever-changing female representations.

The disparate images become a whole, disintegrate and combine again to form a different face, a different body and a different apparition of beauty. Stimulating. Suggestive. Titillating. All the images are versions of Athene, bent on seducing me. That’s what this is about. Seduction. Shapes unite and divide, fuse and dissolve with smooth subtlety, transforming into yet another female. Elegant, graceful and sexy. Wow!

One of them slides on to the bed and lies beside me, up close and personal. I lie still. I don’t want to break the spell, because I can’t help thinking that this is some sort of witchery. If this is foreplay bring it on; but I refuse to touch her unless she touches me first. There is something about the colourful amalgam of voluptuous images combined with the sad, beguiling music that I find unsettling.

Witch, bitch, what’s the difference? Athene, all women all woman, is offering herself to me unconditionally. Or is she? I have the feeling that if I so much as reach out to touch her the music will stop, the lights black out and she and her alter egos will disintegrate. She’s a tease. Nothing more. It’s a power game. She’s testing me and I’m determined to pass the test. Or shall I teach the bitch a lesson and take
her, show her what a dangerous game she is playing, what a brute I can be?

She’s very close to me now, our bodies almost touching. Her sweet breath brushes my cheek. There’s a glint of power in her eye. I can smell her sex. I roll away from her and stand up straight on my three muscular legs. I have an erection, but I will not allow her to seduce me. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction.

She too rolls over and slips off the bed. I turn away from her and leave the dormo-cube. The music fades. The lights cut out. I wait in the living-cube. I have won this round of the contest. Of that I’m sure.

In she floats, her white robe a complete cover-up of her decorated body. Her smile is cool, confident.

‘Well done,’ she says. ‘You haven’t betrayed my trust.’

I smile back, certain that in spite of her praise she is disappointed.

‘That was an enjoyable – supper,’ I tell her. ‘What next?’

‘Champagne,’ she answers, determined to keep me here.

‘No thanks. I need a clear head. I have work to do.’

Like hell I have. I’m going to find a real female on whom to slake my lust. I’ll visit Sati, my prisoner. She’s just the medicine I need.

Thor, my friend and number one groupie, is lounging in a comfortable shaper in the dino-cube. His ugly mug lights up as he spots me. ‘Hi, Boss. I’ve saved you a place,’ he says, tapping the seat of the shaper beside him. I’m not really his boss, but as Athene’s deputy I have considerably more power than him.

‘Very kind of you,’ I say, with a hint of sarcasm that’s completely wasted on him.

I make myself comfortable in the shaper, stretching my three legs out in front of me, which attracts the attention of the females nearby. I haven’t lost my touch.

Thor leans forward, anxious to hear my news. ‘Well? Tell all. I understand you were with the delectable Athene last night? How was she?’

‘Totally delectable.’

‘Did you kiss and make-up?’

I yawn. ‘How little you know me, Thor.’

‘I know you well enough to realise that whatever happened between you and Athene won’t change your plans.’

‘Too right.’ I punch the top of his arm. ‘
Our
plans.’

Thor grins with both his mouths, chuffed with my response. I know he’s totally loyal to me.

When I first came to C99 I managed to rescue him from a nasty piece of business. He was accused of rape. Ridiculous. All the females here are up for grabs and this particular one, Artemis, was always gagging for it. What did I do? Fucked her myself. Consensual sex, of course. I’ve never found it difficult to bed females. My irresistible charm, I guess.

Afterwards I asked her about the incident with Thor. Turns out he did force himself on her, pinned her down and just went for it. I told her many females liked a bit of rough. To call it rape was an over reaction. It wasn’t too difficult to get her to retract her allegation and stop her taking her complaint to a higher authority. If Artemis had officially accused Thor of rape he could have been deported to a compound of lower status. Or even spent time in a prison cell.

Thor has always been grateful for my intervention. That’s how I know I can trust him to keep my secrets. He is aware I intend to be CEO of all the English-speaking compounds one day and I assure him he will be my deputy when the time comes.

Since that time he has shown time and time again that he is willing to do anything for me. No job is too dirty to give to Thor. Any little bit of “persuasion” needed to coerce
someone to do something and he’s my man. When Athene asked me to find the source of the rumour that was spreading round the sectoid that she had killed Ra, our previous leader, Thor managed to find someone willing to confess. Whether the selected female was actually the source or a scapegoat I didn’t know. I didn’t care. And I didn’t question his methods.

Thor is also my main source of gossip. ‘A new two-headed has arrived,’ is his latest news.

I’ve just come from Sati, the ultimate two-headed beauty, one head topped by long, straight dark hair, the other crowned with a curly mop of blond curls. Sati’s still officially my prisoner, but, to keep her amenable, I’ve set her up in a sumptuous boudoir, a whore’s chamber, with a huge circular bunku topped by pink satin coverlets. She adores it and we’ve started from scratch with our exploration of what she calls love-sex, investigating different ways to satisfy each other. For two people as experienced in sexual matters as we are it’s quite a challenge, but you could say we are rising to it. We enjoy trying to outdo each other in inventiveness.

When Thor mentions the arrival of another two-headed I’m immediately interested. Maybe I could try out some of the sexual experimentation explored with Sati on the new female.

‘Where is she?’ I ask, looking round the dino-cube.

Thor grins. ‘It’s not a female, but a male giant. And guess what, his skin is as black and shiny as polished ebony.’

I resist the temptation to ask him how he knows what polished ebony looks like. ‘Why is he here?’

‘They say Athene has brought him here for her own pleasure. That’s why I was a bit taken aback when she chose to spend the night with you.’

He shoves his nutri-ration into both of his two mouths, one above the other. Not for the first time I think how revolting he looks when eating. Females seem turned on by
his two pairs of bulging lips. I can’t think – or perhaps don’t want to think – why.

I didn’t spend the night with Athene. Only the evening. Was the time I spent with Athene a rehearsal for the night she was to spend with the new humanoid? I’m not exactly jealous but the idea doesn’t exactly please me either.

‘Where is he now?’

‘In Athene’s office. He’s been in there the entire morning. Apparently he’s got a good brain as well as a muscular physique. You’ll have to watch out, Heracles. She may be thinking of him replacing you in more ways than one. How would you like that?’

‘She’s in for a shock if she tries a trick like that with me. I intend to replace her, remember.’

Thor gives me a sly look. ‘And when that happens I’ll be your Number Two?’

‘Of course. Won’t be long now, Thor, my friend.’

In fact, I doubt I will make him my deputy. Better not give him too much power. I’ll have to persuade him he’s more useful to me undercover.

I think a female deputy would be a good choice. More malleable. More agreeable. Maybe one of my prisoners, Durga, the demon slayer, or Sati. No, not Durga. She’s too power hungry. Sati then. She is not unintelligent and certainly more compliant than before.

Thor nudges me, and places his coarse face next to my ear. ‘Here he comes,’ his two mouths say in tandem.

A massive black humanoid strides into the dino-cube. Thor is right. The giant’s skin is as smooth and glossy as polished ebony. (I’ve never seen ebony either, but I’ve seen pictures and read about it online). The giant carries himself with dignity, his two heads held high, but he does not intimidate me.

One of his faces is elongated and impassive and has an
uncompromising slit for a mouth; the other has a broad forehead, a stubby nose and puffy lips. I’d rather do business with the latter. His huge neck is encircled by a copper collar. His bare arms are half-covered with bracelets of red, blue and black beads. The top half of his arms are stamped with small circles, seemingly embedded in his skin. The rest of his body is clothed in a long, loose robe with wide coffee and cream coloured stripes.

He takes his nutri-ration from the bar and sits down at a table on his own. I note that he eats with the more generous of the two mouths. The other face remains blank. Mean and hungry!

Everyone is sneaking glances at the newcomer, not sure what to make of him. He’s certainly unlike anyone we’ve seen here before.

I wait until he’s taken his last mouthful and amble over to him, careful not to bump into the tables and chairs on my way. I’ve been practising my walk lately, determined to move less awkwardly. As a potential leader I need to cultivate poise. I’m quite pleased with my progress. My three legs move in a more co-ordinated manner now and I’ve developed an athlete’s roll, which suggests I’m a sporty type. Not a bad image to project. I’m conscious of everyone’s eyes on me.

‘Welcome to C99,’ I hold out my hand. ‘I’m Heracles. No doubt you’ve heard of me.’

He stands up, towers over me and shakes my hand. He’s a good foot taller than me. Shit.

‘Kata-Mbula,’ he says. ‘109th King of the Kuba, from Zaire, deep in the basin of the River Congo.’ His voice is amazingly low-pitched for a mutant, yet loud. It resounds throughout the dino-cube without any conscious effort to project it. ‘But please call me Kat. Everyone does. Oh yes, I’ve heard all about you all right, Heracles.’

He motions for me to sit at his table but I need to assert
my authority. Show him I’m in charge. I remain standing and suggest that we go my office for a private chat.

He agrees affably enough. All eyes are on us as we leave the dino-cube. I wink at Thor as I pass.

My office is large with a huge workstation and a state-of-the-art compu. I show off a bit, explaining how I am able to view other compounds on the multi-screens and even Oasis. I think he’s quite impressed.

‘So – you’re a spy,’ he laughs, a booming laugh that resounds round the walls.