What Dreams Are Made of
Chapter 8: Curing A Performance Problem

Copyright© 2018 by littlefrog454

Sex Story: Chapter 8: Curing A Performance Problem - Artificial Intelligence Singularity sends back copy to change world's future. Recruits genetically engineered sex slaves from 2222 to recreate Master's Harem, for man who helped invent machine that caused it all. Discover that aliens were really responsible for it all. Track down interstellar sentient Mother Ship.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   Hypnosis   Mind Control   NonConsensual   Slavery   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Science Fiction   Aliens   Extra Sensory Perception   Space   Time Travel   Light Bond   Harem   Oral Sex  

I couldn’t believe it, I had lost control, my harem was now in control of me. Well not me exactly, but close. Something had changed in the 25 new clones they had made of me. Oh yes, they were me, looked exactly like me, had all my knowledge, even acted like me, but they were different. They were like the Hive. They were one, an entity. Each one knew what the other one was doing, thinking, even feeling. They really were ONE ... born and bred that way. Ann and the other Girls should have known it from the three Miss Kelly’s. I guess they would have known it if there had been an original Miss Kelly alive at the time to note the difference in her three clones.

It wasn’t like they were intentionally trying to replace me, they weren’t. It was just that they really knew what the Girls really wanted. Maybe needed is the real word I’m looking for here. You know the old hack about the itch you can’t scratch, well they could find it and scratch it for the Girls.

I was the outsider in my own group. They were me, but not me. I was a loner, but they weren’t. I made decisions, they followed them, or let me know why I was wrong, but never tried to take over. In fact I had found, since that first night on Bob waiting for Sherry and Cora to finish their assignment, that they waited for me to innate any action, if I was present. After Ann directed my other Girls that first night to start peeling everything went fine. No trouble at all for Tab A to find Slot B at all.

Afterward I figured I was no longer needed, so I started planning my getaway. The Great Escape, ha, ha.

<Ha, ha. Master.> came back on our common link from Ann and the other Girls listening in.

< You know your not supposed to do that.> I chided them all.

<Can a fish refuse to swim Harry.> Ann thought back.

<A man needs at least the allusion of privacy. He needs to think that he’s alone in his own head Ann.> I huffed.

<I guess that’s true Master, excuse us.> the link babbled back, I wasn’t sure if they were contrite or laughing at me.

<Tell me something Ann, why can’t I hear anything from the 25 new ME.> I asked the question that was puzzling me.

<We speculate that it’s psychosomatic Harry... > Ann started to explain, as I broke in.

“Psychosomatic Hell...” I blurted out loud.

<I don’t even get a mumble from them.> I snapped back at her on the link.

<If you’ll let me finish ... ok ... hearing them ... the 25 exact identical you in your own head traumatized you so much that your brain has shut them out. It refuses to hear them... > She was explaining, when I butted in again.

<I know what I can and can’t hear Ann.> I snorted on the link, clearly irritated.

<Look at it like hysterical blindness Harry. The eyes are fine, but the person it happens to can’t see. Subconsciously they refuse to see. Believe it or not it’s a pretty common battlefield injury. It’s very real to the person suffering it, but easily diagnosed because they never run into things, and are able to dodge thrown objects, ha, ha. We can only hope that your mind will eventually overcome this block on it’s own.> Ann lectured me.

<So your telling me that I’m really hearing them, but my brain is refusing to allow me to hear them.> I laughed.

<Yes, actually that is what is happening.> Ann responded on our link.

<Can the other Harry’s hear each other?> I questioned.

<Of course they can, and they can hear you too.> she answered.

<And how do I get rid of ... this ... this ... block Ann.> I wanted to know.

<Hypno therapy is my first recommendation, but is it really important enough for you to really care. I mean I have consulted with the other Girls, even the Hive and June, and most of us feel that it is due to the shock. The shock of the 25 other YOU suddenly coming online all at once. That shocked your mind into rejecting them because they sound ... well feel too I guess ... so much like you ... well are you I guess. We recommend that you give your mind time to adjust to all this on it’s own. I mean it’s not like you really need to hear them.> Ann finished up rather lamely.

“What I need is a good vacation.” I finished up.


A week latter we knew what the residents of the 4th planet looked like. We also knew what the structures were too. The local residents were ‘rat like’, right down to a long naked rat like tail. ‘Rat Like’, was the only way to describe them. They seemed to have an average height of about six feet, walking about on two, what passed for legs, upright like a person. Maybe one hundred thirty to one hundred fifty pounds average weight. Short brown course fur all over their bodies where it was exposed, a long hairless snout with dozens of very sharp needle like gleaming white teeth visible, also with a long thin snake like tongue that was constantly flicking about. Oh, and did I forget about the eyes, two tiny malevolent red burning coals for eyes set far back in their skulls, eyes that never seemed to blink. In other words an image that raised Homo Sapiens hackles. Memories of ancient enemies of the past that the ancient lizard part of the brain still remembers. Ancestral memories awakening from a time that we had been enemies. Memories not unlike those of ancient man’s fear of the wolf that latter became the beloved dog, and fought beside man, but these memories were of a enemy that man had always fought. An enemy fought even before man became man.

The structures on the other hand were factories, just like the factories we had tracked down out there in the other universe, and we had all seen before. Factories that produced Inoway Artificial Intelligence’s. Of course that didn’t mean that they were producing Slavers, or even knew what a Slaver was for that matter. That was why we were here after all. We now had a isolated group of presumably Inoway still manufacturing Artificial Intelligence’s. Had been isolated here manufacturing them for millions of years, right here all by themselves. As a pragmatist my first impulse was to find some big rocks and make sure that these monsters never escaped this system again. But I also wanted to know what made the Slavers, and figured we had a good shot at it here.

Of the two issues, the issue of the Slavers was more important to us today. Yes, the Confederacy wanted to know now too. After all they had millions, billions even, of potential Slavers out there to deal with if somebody learned the secret. After the disaster of the Box nobody wanted a repeat of Murphy’s Law, “If it can go wrong it will, if it can’t possibly go wrong it will anyway”.

Bottom line was we needed to question some Inoway about how a Slaver could be made. I did have a hunch, a wild hunch true, but a good one, on how they had produced a Slaver over in my universe. If I was right I figured that this isolated group of Inoway were working to produce the same thing on this planet, and the results would be the same. If I was right somewhere on this planet we would discover how they had made the Slavers and what went wrong, or right for that matter. Somewhere in this solar system we would find spaceships just like Bob, but without Bob’s organic intelligence to fly them. I hopped that we would not encounter Box, maybe they hadn’t unraveled that secret yet.


I was right, days latter we found their Bob ship building site on one of the 6th planet’s moons. The site looked abandoned, and only one forlorn Bob was present. He looked like he had been there a long, long time. He was completely cold, showing no signs of an active internal power source, and a coating of space debris that had accumulated over the years. Since there was no activity on site, and we were still collecting data on the 4th planet, we decided to investigate. Upon entering the open airlock I found that they had even removed the provisions for a organic intelligence like Bob to be installed in this ship. It was also stuffed with conventional batteries, and rack after rack of compactors. They were all absolutely dead now, had been dead for countless centuries at least we discovered. Everything just confirming what I had already theorized.

A month latter we had infiltrated the 4th planet. In the end we discovered they were not much different from us. They were not on a war footing right now, or inherently evil as I had originally thought. In fact they only had legends of their past to go on. Like us, they had fought wars of aggression with each other over their dwindling natural resources. Civilization itself had come and gone hundreds of times. One civilization rebuilding over the ruins of the other, over and over, and over again.

“It is not the strongest of a species that survives, nor the most intelligent, it is the one most adaptable to change, that survives.” Is the quote by Charles Darwin about survival of the specie. It appeared that rats were adaptable and survived well. It would be interesting to see if Homo Sapiens did as well.

They really had little more than legends to go on after their wars. Legends that said that they were once Gods, Masters of the Universe, Gods who had been defeated by other jealous Gods and forced to flee to this isolated solar system to hide. They had cut off all contact with the rest of the universe until their leaders, well high priests now anyway, could prefect the magical ‘Third Eye’. A device that would allow the true believers to once again navigate, “the rivers of time and space.” When that promised day came they would once again rightfully rule over the universe and extract their revenge on the other evil Gods that had banished them here to this Hell Hole.

The only difference between them and us was their near indestructible artificial intelligence’s, their immortal ever present intelligent computers. A vast store of knowledge that always arose from the rubble of the world they had just destroyed with their war. The vast store of knowledge that had allowed the survivors of the Apocalyptic War to rebuild their civilization over, and over, and over again for millions of years. Just think of where Man himself would be if the Great Library at Alexandra had not been sacked and burned by the barbarians over and over thought out own recorded history. If there had been no Dark Age where would we be today.

The Inoway themselves had seen better days. The evidence showed they had once had space travel and even a thriving sub-orbital travel system on the planet itself, but now they were reduced to trolley cars, trains, and planes that relied on hydrogen gas for their motive power and energy source.

Today all their natural resources were exhausted. In fact they were dying with no way to get out of this system. Doomed to remain here for eternity. All this knowledge was available at any online library terminal. Available to any citizen, or us for that matter on their version of the world wide web which was open to everyone.

The story that finally caught my attention was one about the creation of, ‘The Beast With The Third Eye’, a Fiery Tale used to frighten small children to go to bed. In the tale a mad scientist creates a thinking machine. In some of the commentaries and annalist of the Tale, the commentator compares the Beast to a modern artificial intelligence that they are still manufacturing. Anyway the scientist gives it the task, ‘to see into the maddening Void between the stars’. To do this the machine says it needs more and more autonomy, until it has built a whole army of units like himself around it. The scientist is not worried though because they can’t go anywhere. So it comes as a great shock when he discovers that they all have arms and legs now. He’s a little worried now, but the Beast shows him the Eye they have created, and explains how it will allow them to seek other worlds. The scientist is hooked, he orders up the ship and they all board it, and it disappears. When it returns the scientist is dead, and the Beast and his hundred brothers run amuck killing hundreds, until they are finally destroyed by irate citizenry who burn them up in a great fire. The moral of the story I guess is, “watch out for how much autonomy you give your personal computer, and never, never, ever allow it to grow hands and feet.” Maybe the Inoway watched Walt Disney’s first Mickey Mouse animated cartoon too.

My guess is the Inoway in my universe kept pushing the Bobs to violate their prime directives, of course I look at them as core beliefs, but the point is there were things the Bobs couldn’t do. Anyway, because the Bobs suicide if pushed too hard, they wound up creating, and having a lot of ships with dead Bobs around. They knew that they, just like the Builders, went insane staring into the Void, but unlike the Builders though, they had their Artificial Intelligence’s, the Rays, to experiment on. That was how the Slavers were created. The Inoway put them on a delict Bob, with a return timer and sent them to stare into the Void. When they returned they were insane, and we know they were never able to replace the Bobs. They just created a lot of crazy Ray’s.

How, your probably asking yourself, did we know they never discovered the secret? Elementary my dear Watson, “they are still stuck here, in this dying star system.” I personally was still all for the big rock solution, but the Hive wanted to put the matter in the hands of the Builders and the Confederacy. The Hive won the argument in the end.


Quick Kill


At the beginning of the 60’s the Marines developed Quick Kill for Force Recon. For this training they found that air rifles, BB guns, worked best. They found that shooting is instinctive with a certain percentage of us. I also found it worked out really well with my Girls and the recoilless auto shotgun they had decided on.

For example the instructor would take a BB between his thumb and forefinger, and after showing it to everybody, he would throw it into the air and shoot it with his CO2 powered air rifle off hand. We found that we could actually follow both BB’s through the air. The more we practiced the better we got at it. We learned that the human mind could calculate off hand, instinctively, the path of both BB’s, the power behind it, the drop, the effect of the wind, it’s actual path through the air, all those myriad details all by itself. There was no need for gun sights or fancy scopes and extensive training. In fact they found that all that fancy training, and tools were a distinct impediment to their training methods.

Of course they found that they could train a solder to kill anything on the obstacle course in record time with the “System”. The basic rule was, it moved it died, as simple as that. In full kill mode there were no friends, just things that moved and became targets. They found it a particularly useful skill in the ‘Tunnel Rats’ program they latter developed. The Viet Kong, those little yellow fellows in the black pajamas, loved to dig intricate tunnel systems. Room after room of Punji Pits, snakes, spiders, rats, razor blades, water traps, anything to make our jobs a little harder. The thing that really disappointed us was that by the time we got to the end of the tunnel system, room by room, every piece of useful intelligence was destroyed. No prisoners to interrogate, no maps to read, no list of names to check out, nada, nothing.

Well where there’s a will there’s a way, as they say. Hydrogen gas is odorless, colorless, and even tasteless, but it burns real well and is readily attainable anywhere in the world in bulk tanks. Tanks that come in many sizes and are easily bought and transported. We developed a quite pneumatic digging probe that allowed us to penetrate each chamber. We then flooded the cave system with it and ignited the hydrogen in what is commonly known as a “Flash Burn”. It is a very short intense burn, it’s flame almost invisible to the naked human eye. It doesn’t effect equipment, or clothing, or even the human body really. It just singes everything in the confined area. Well that includes singeing the human lungs. Anybody, or anything for that matter, that is breathing the room’s air when the Flash occurs is basically dead in very short order. A particularly short, but extremely nasty, painful death I might add.

I’m sure that it’s probably against the Geneva Convention, so many good ways to kill people are, but that didn’t particularly bother us at the time. Our job was to destroy the cave system and recover useable intelligence, which we did in the simplest and most efficient way possible. The same system works on anything within an inclosed area, of course the smaller the actual area the better, after all the hydrogen does have to saturate the air in the area first.


At least one of our mysteries was solved. There was no way the Inoway were ever going to get out of this system without a lot of outside help. Knowing what we know now, I’ll just hope nobody else decides to experiment with the other available Inoway AI’s, now that we know they can see into the Void too. If you stare into the Void too long, or too often, you may get it’s attention and it will stare back, they say. It would appear that even AI’s can go crazy too from starring into the Void.

As to their limbs. These were AI’s that piloted cars, trains and planes. AI’s that really supervised assembly lines, hospitals, and many other things. I’m sure that if a Inoway AI needed arms and legs to do it’s job it would have arms and legs the next day. We saw nothing sinister, or wrong about that.


It hadn’t gone down like I expected. I don’t know if I’ve ever described myself after the process finished. Well I’m 6 foot 1, a hundred seventy five pounds. I have wide shoulders and long arms and I’m skinny. Yes, skinny. I burn it off as fast as I eat it. In my younger days I resented that I couldn’t bulk up, but in my present ripe old age it was a God send. I never had to push myself to stay in shape, no designer diets, no restricted foods I couldn’t eat.

I had taken my vacation, escaped my responsibilities for awhile. I had the clothes on my back, a pocket full of cash, some fake papers. Make that good fake papers including a passport and credit cards. Nobody could do anything today without credit cards. I had replaced the thin flat high carbon steel throwing knives I habitually carried. One in my boot and the other on the heavy braided leather cord across my throat, the knife hanging down my back. Now they were some non metallic ceramic substitutes I’d had Molly whip up for me, knives that didn’t set off every metal detector I went through. Oh, I know they make non metallic guns too, but they are still heavy and bulky and really not concealable. I was traveling light, and didn’t need to stand out that much. In my light gym bag I had a change of underwear, sox’s, disposable razor, and extra change of shirt jeans and spare hoodee jacket. As I said light.

I took a jet back to the States landing in Vegas in the early morning hours. Even then it was hot outside the air conditioned terminal. I tried my luck at the tables on the Strip and walked away a few dollars richer for several hours of hard work. The stage acts were all bigger than I remember, the drinks watered down more, and the girls working the floor cheap and over done. It was hard to remember that we had only left here a couple of years ago.

Leaving the last casinos I had the taxi drop me off at one of the many used car places just off the strip. After some haggling I picked up a 12 year old cherry red Chevy sedan and after some more haggling and some very creative paper work, I had clear title, tag, and even the mandatory insurance every state now required. I was confident that the paperwork would stand up to any inspection I was liable to run into.

My next stop was Twenty Nine Palms, or Twenty Nine Stumps as we affectionately called it. Driving through Joshua Tree the desert was still just dry desert and lots of rocky mountain. The town itself was still as small and backward as ever. Using my Reservist ID I even played a round of golf and had a beer at the on base club house. Next I headed for Palm Springs which had changed as much as Vegas. I didn’t bother to stop for anything but gas this time.

 
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