Girl Scout Troop Master - aftermath
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2016 by Wyden Long

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 5 - This is a sequel to Girl Scout Troop Master. An overwhelming landslide of reader requests (well, two) resulted in my going back to a well I thought was dry and doing a bit more fishing. Hopefully, this well will not dry up as quickly as the first.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Science Fiction   Aliens   Extra Sensory Perception   Space  

Well, duh! The beings who originally started this whole business might have some good ideas? Like all good solutions to complex problems, the solution we sought would merely separate the insoluble and the soluble and keep breaking the insoluble ones down until the only problems left were ones that could be solved. The basics never change, do they?

For starters, they divided the problem down into groups of like characteristics and separated those with the least infrastructure needs from those with large infrastructure overheads. It may have seemed that those societies that were causing the most damage to the environment should be the first to go, but they were also the ones with the most complex transport requirements.

If you move a group of people who are so far removed from reality that they don’t even connect eating a Big Mac with the act of killing a cow, they are apt to be a bit lost in a world that requires those who are wishing to eat meat must be willing to kill an animal.

A country like Nigeria, with 180 million people, limited infrastructure, high poverty levels and 2.5% population growth rate could be a good candidate for voluntary relocation. Their prospects for the future are highly dependent on support from more affluent countries. Many of their key economic indicators are improving, but the relative physical isolation of the country hampers economic growth along traditional lines.

“Could we replicate the country of Nigeria on the new world?”, I asked.

“Certainly. Why not allow your son, Jor-El, to do so?”

“Is it as simple as all that?”

“There are bound to be complications and unintended side effects, but it could be a good start.”

“Did you put that thought in my mind?”

“No, reminding you of our availability increased your confidence sufficiently to cause you to look deeper within your own mind for a solution.”

“Ahhhh! Our only limitations are the boundaries that we create.”

“Well said.”

“So the mantra that we create our own reality is truly and absolutely true.”

“Have you yet encountered a limitation when you were willing to believe in your power?”

“No, but it is a bit scary.”

“Your work is not yet complete. More detailed plans need to be made before your solution can become reality. Who will you send and how will they be chosen?”

I consulted briefly with my wives and they brought in our children.

“I suppose you are wondering why I have brought you all together?”

“Good one, Dad. How long have you hoped for an excuse to haul out that old line?”

“Far too long, my son, but thanks for picking up on it. Anyway, it has fallen to us to be instrumental in planning the refurbishment of Earth. Centuries of societal neglect and mismanagement have created a call to arms for the future of Earth. The needs of the population have outstripped the logistics of supply. There are people starving in countries loaded with natural resources because too many artificial barriers divide the needy from the supplies.”

A daughter of mine spoke up. She was one of the initial group, whom we referred to as the ‘advanced’ children. “My name is Shar-La and I propose that we simply create at least one geographic clone of Earth. We now have several competing factions, each of which would prefer for everyone on Earth to be like them, or at least imical to them.”

Someone challenged her. “Imical? Is there such a word?”

“If there isn’t, there should be”, she responded. “Inimical means ‘hostile to’ and my meaning is the opposite, so wouldn’t it be ‘imical’?”

“If it does not exist, we shall make it so. Please continue.”

“We have been told that Muslims are taught that they should rain death on infidels, which causes problems for infidels as well as the Muslims. Why not provide them with their own world? We wish them no harm, but they are taught to fight for our death.”

“What about the warring sects within their religion?”

“What about them? Should we make additional Earth clones for each sect? Would they be content to live in a world populated only by those who believe exactly as they do or is the act of religious conquest and cleansing vital to their psyche?”

“We must ask them. What about other groups? India also has a very large population that is made up of sometimes conflicting groups. Islam accounts for 14% of the population and Hindus make up 80%.

“Why don’t we simply start with one Earth clone and give it a test ride?”, I suggested. “Since the Ormulans have taught us the power that is within us to create realities, we can take it a step at a time.”

“Who will choose those who are allowed to go?” One of my favorite girls spoke up.

“Why should anyone other than the candidate to be transported make the choice? We can make it known that anyone who wishes to be transported to the new world has only to raise their hand and say, “Transport me”, and they will immediately disappear. Friends and family members seeing them disappear may choose whether to go or stay.”

“Will they be allowed to return?”

“Only after a suitable interval has passed. They need to give the new world a chance.”

“What will they have when they arrive? Must we provide clothes or household furniture and that sort of thing?”

“Whatever they have will be transported with them, when possible. Obviously, shared items would present a problem, but those wishing to go, who have shared property must work that out with the co-owner.”

“Wow! Once you fully accept your unlimited power, you don’t have any problem making decisions, do you?”

“No. After internalizing such awesome power, mundane decisions become trivial.”

“Should we restrict the offer to those of a particular region or faith?”

“No. Let the chips fall where they may.”

We made the announcement, but only a very few hardy souls signed up. The concept was simply too new for most.

“What can we do to sweeten the pot?”, I asked my harem.

“How about forty acres and a mule?”, one of them asked. “It was a very successful ploy to open up the American west for settlement, although we may want to change the mule to a tractor.”

“There is another thing you haven’t mentioned”, interjected another. “If we are claiming that the new world is Paradise, what have many of those we are attempting to attract been convinced is a feature of Paradise?”

The rest of us looked around in puzzlement until Ebony started jumping up and down. “I know, I know!”, she shouted excitedly.

When challenged by those of us who still didn’t grasp her meaning, she shouted, “Seventy-four virgins!”

Ah! How had we missed the number one bonus lure in history? Every other group in history had learned that sex sells. It only took us a bit longer. I wasn’t convinced that there was a specific number, but the concept of many virgins waiting on the other side should start a landslide. If nothing else, it should deplete the ranks on Earth of those willing to slaughter crowds to have a shot at the virgins.

 
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