Chapter 12

Well we were still not on the third floor, but we were in the ship. The stealth suits worked like a charm and now we could just walk through walls and doors. Through the use of something similar to sonar in bats and dolphins we were able to map out the place in no time. Molly and the technical branch of Girls-are-Us had pegged them down where we could study them at our leisure. They had already tried to leave, only to discover they couldn’t energize their shield. We were sure they were pushing their pet scientists, somewhere on the ship right this very minute, for answers to why they weren’t moving.

Mesmer Power, or Animal Magnetism, turned out to be the simple ability to force the conscious mind to relax it’s conscious control over the wakened brain. The brain has a built in defense mechanism to handle high stress situations, situations it finds too horrendous or painful to cope with. It zones out in a trance like state and forgets the entire traumatized incident. Amnesia is the tag that most psychiatrist put on it. Our Super Men could induce that state and manipulate it like a hypnotic trance.

Mesmer Power forces the brain to enter that stunned trance like state, something similar to the effect known as road hypnosis brought on by fatigue. This allowed them to reach the subconscious mind any time they want to. The Power to force a Normal’s mind into that altered state we call hypnosis. They couldn’t read minds, or put thoughts in your mind for that matter, but you would always trust them and want to cooperate with them. You would always accept them as your best friend, your trusted best friend. The person you most want to please.

Induced Traumatic Stress Hypnosis; Theory and Application

As a side note, Becky found that the CIA, NSA, and several other branches of military intelligence, in a joint task force, had done a lot of research on what they called, “Induced Traumatic Stress Hypnosis”. Test subjects, actual agents that were fixing to wash out of the training program anyway, were paired as male female teams. They were then given what they thought was a real assignment, allowed to bond with their male partner, then lead into traps and captured by the supposed enemy, which was really their own people. Once captured they were lightly tortured and threatened with what to them were near death experiences. Finally the male partner was made to appear to be horrorably, brutally murdered right in front of the female partner. The technique they finally devised seemed to work better on females for some reason.

In 70% of the tests the women subjects went into a deeply stunned, catatonic, shocked, fatigue state. 20% of the women remained catatonic and had to be institutionalized, 80% entered a state similar to what is achieved with good hypnosis. In 50% of that 80% a skilled hypnotist was able to gain complete control of the test subject and have the subject remember or forget anything he wanted. In 40% of the test subjects he could regain control if he was able to isolate her again at a latter date. In 35% of them he could plant trigger phrases and retain complete control over the test subject making her the perfect double agent, without even knowing it or tripping a polygraph.

It was also accidentally discovered by one group of supposed interrogators, and covered up by mutual consent of the upper brass, that the female subjects could be made into perfect sex slaves once their minds were forcefully taken this way. Unlike simple hypnosis this conditioning was permanent, and there was no choice involved after the psychotic break was achieved. Also of note was the fact that no drugs were used to achieve or maintain these results, which makes it highly unlikely anyone will be able to detect these changes in the test subjects after the conditioning.

Even Becky was unable to find out what was done with the subjects of these tests, since they were just a number in the case file. She is still working on it though.

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Most of this research came to light, believe it or not, when a particularly brutal and sadistic organization of kidnappers and rapist operating in Washington DC itself, were finally caught and exposed publicly by an anonymous tip to the Capital Police. The anonymous tip came from a small time Internet billionaire, Becky eventually found out. The billionaire lets call him Jim, had a crush on a former Arizona high school head cheerleader, lets call her Candy. Jim had sold his killer App to one of the major cell phone manufactures and retired before he graduated Arizona State Technical College. Candy attended the same college, and took a job as aide to a old established Arizona senator and went off to DC. Jim soon found an excuse and followed her there.

Jim was still trying to get up the nerve to approach Candy when she disappeared. When he ran his taps of the buildings CCTV camera system back he saw the well organized snatch of Candy by a five man team, as she was exiting her car in her apartment building’s private parking garage.

Being obsessed with Candy, Jim had violated at least half a dozen state and federal laws on invasion of privacy, but was able to follow electronically where they had taken Candy. Their destination turned out to be a large swank hotel on the Virginia side of the DC line. A hotel within easy walking distance of Capital Hill itself. There the signal just disappeared, something that should have been impossible Jim reasoned.

Jim was in a quandary over what to do. He should take action he reasoned, but what kind? He personally was no James Bond even though he was a brown belt Karate student. If he rushed in right now he didn’t know where she really was. If he went to the police they would demand proof and he would look like a stalker. He’d probably be arrested on the spot for his trouble he reasoned. So he finally called in what he had witnessed to the local police from a pay phone, (Yes little Johnny, DC still has some pay phones) wearing a hoodie and baseball cap.

The next day she still hadn’t returned, but no police report showed up on his scan of the Internet either. He was still debating with himself what to do when she showed back up three days latter for work. Since Jim was already into her iPhone so he could listen to her conversations. In no time he knew that something was terribly wrong. She claimed to all her concerned friends to have had a slight case of flu all weekend and had stayed in bed all the time.

In for a penny, in for a pound Jim finally reasoned to himself in the end. On the Dark Web anything is available “For a Price”. In days Jim had the devices he needed, and a decent tool kit to get into Candy’s room or past any lock or security system he was likely to encounter. The A/V devices he intended to use were as thin as ten pound cat gut fishing line, almost invisible, about thirty six inches long, with something like a glass bead on the end that contained the fish eye lens. They were supposed to be woven into the material of a dress or blouse like a loose thread, and would continue to record audio, video, and GPS tracking data for months. That recorded data would automatically download to Jim’s modified iPhone when he transmitted the right code burst to them, if they were in range to receive it. Until that time they were passive and virtually undetectable by any routine scan.

With these devices Jim was able to discover that the hotel was just one of the many secret entrances to a large super secret subterranean government covert instillation that was under the Capital itself. A organization that was slowly taking over Capitol Hill one congressional aide and congress woman at a time.

The Project, as originally conceived by the Agency, was only to target foreign deep cover agents working undercover in the States and turn them. Agents that would not be missed for three days or so. The Project had proven very successful, so successful in fact, that certain influential senior senators on the intelligence oversight committee in charge of seeing they didn’t violate the American citizen’s trust had called in some favors. Soon they had some of their own people given the “Treatment”, as it had come to be called by this time. After all a staff member could never be too loyal, ha, ha.

At first some of the more timid of the “Good Old Boys”, and now some “Good Old Girls, too” for that matter, had been added to the exclusive club the senate oversight committee had become hesitated. Lets face it they hesitated because the “Treatment” was far from 100% successful in every case. But after it was demonstrated, to the committee’s complete satisfaction, that the short term memory of that 3 day weekend could be easily removed if the “Treatment” didn’t take, all the objections disappeared. After that nobody objected any longer.

“No loss, no foul Senator, throw that pretty little aide back in the pool and get a new one for us to try the “Treatment” on. I’m sure there is no shortage of raw material to chose from, and satisfaction is guaranteed.” He was told by the four star Air Force general in charge of the Program.

In the end Jim did the right thing by Candy. Jim planted dope, and several of the more brutal bondage and torture videos he had edited together of the Senior Senator from Arizona and his kinky playmates, in the kidnap teams van. The tapes and DVDs showed the Senator and his major supporters along with various other playmates in compromising positions. All of it in the van the team was using to kidnap their next group of victims. With the push of a button the van was disabled at the toll booth and a call to 911 was made. This time a bogus APB on the van went out on the official police channel, along with a tip to the news media this time too. In minuets the kidnappers were in custody and the kidnap victims all released. All of them now giving statements about their harrowing kidnapping at the hands of these five thugs claiming to be NSA Operatives. The interviews to CNN and the more radical elements of the free press made headlines for weeks.

Weeks latter, after his arrest while out on bond, the Senator became a never drink and drive statistic when he hit a concrete highway divider at 120 MPH in his BMW, answering the age old question of the irresistible force and the immovable object again. The kidnapping team was latter convicted for a couple of hundred different major felonies, given ninety nine years on each count. When added all together it worked out to a little less than a thousand years, each to run concurrent, no chance of parole. They never talked and the no-name-organization, they were never proven to have worked for, quietly faded into the woodwork finally disappearing like the Cheshire Cat. The committee itself launched a cover-up of the Project and their little indiscretions. Suddenly Candy and a lot of others staffers were out of a job. Nobody at the time even knew who gave the tip that led to the convictions.

Becky, ever a romantic at heart, believe it or not, put it all together for us. The real target had appeared to have been the Senator she reasoned. If he was, then the next logical question to ask was, who had he wronged. A hunch led Becky to Candy, who Becky found and interviewed. If you knew how to read the signs, Candy had been the Senator’s unknowing sex slave Becky figured. Knowing that Becky found her now happily married to Jim, expecting their first child.

The Hive checked and is satisfied that other than using the triggers to make sure he got that first date he hasn’t abused her. In fact Candy confirmed he had told her about the kidnapping on the second date, and she didn’t believe him till he used several of the triggers he had overheard on her. Becky found out that several of her triggers were fun on a date.

Candy thought about it, and decided in the end, that he had evidently loved her for a long time, and been too shy to do anything about it in high school. She is willing to admit that she wasn’t even aware of his existence in high school, and would never have dated him. After all he was a geek, far below her social standing at the time, but what he had done for her now proved his love. Just look at how far he’d gone to protect her.

On reflection she figured he was smart, evidently had plenty of money, and she decided she could certainly bring up his social standing. After all he would be dating her now. Of course right now he didn’t have a clue what any of that even meant. He was a little taller than she usually liked in her men at 6 foot 1 maybe 2, but wasn’t overweight or flabby by any means, which counted for something she guessed. Right now he wore glasses, but laser surgery was always an option, or maybe she could just get used to the glasses, something smaller, maybe wire frames. Her sex life had certainly become more interesting after he had shared some of her hidden triggers with her. Life was good she finally decided.

When the Race is Run and We Lost.

It’s funny to think that Homo Superior could be the end of Homo Sapiens like Homo Sapiens and Cro Magnon man were to poor old Neanderthal 30,000 years ago. Just as fatal to us in the end as the black hole ever was to our sun. Yes, the Girls and the Builders agreed that Homo Superior’s genes, call it mind control or Mesmerism it didn’t make any difference in the long run, would take over the gene pool in the end. There was no way for a Normal, yes the name had already stuck, to compete with them.

I personally would like to think that society could handle the challenge, but the realist in me says Hell no. I mean just look at how well we’ve handled addiction to recreational drugs and HIV. I mean think about it, Homo Superior’s sperm was just plain superior. Every time the race was run his sperm reached that vulnerable zygote first.

His Mesmer Power would guarantee that every woman would allow herself to be fucked by him. Every woman he fucked would conceive a male child that would have those same genes, and pass them on to all his male children, who would in turn pass them on too. There was even cause to believe that even the common birth control pills and implants would prove ineffective against his superior sperm, after all Olivia still had her implant when we checked.

In mere generations the balance would shift and Homo Superior would rule this world too, just like on the world they came from. It would wind up another world dominated by males fighting each other for superiority. There would be no World War III. No Apocalyptic event, just more males being born every year and less females, until the trend could not be reversed. Think of it a world full of these males and no females to mate with.

I had read several proposals by CDC and others to control the birth rate of certain annoying and harmful insect species by the introduction of the so called super female who is sterile, but this is by the male that is more virile. Even if I warned the world leaders right now do you really think they could stop it. Would they have the guts to stop it even if they believed me?

Pain Conquers All

By now we had control of the ship. Pain had proven to be an effective counter to Mesmerism. As long as we had somebody monitoring us remotely, somebody that they couldn’t get to. Someone ready, I even think happy, to zap us if we even started looking distracted. Mesmerism didn’t work if you were in pain it appeared. Well they couldn’t fully take control of us anyway. When we finally cornered them and it came to the shoot-out it was no contest. Our EMP guns knocked them unconscious and a drug patch kept them that way. By the way our patches bond with human flesh and can only be removed with a special solvent, or wait 48 hours for them to dissolve, they are biodegradable.

Then came the realization of the enormous burden we had inherited when we searched the ship. For twenty years they had been working on this Project. That was 250 girls in school every year, say 240 days or 8 months gestation time, twins each time they were impregnated. That comes out to be roughly 13,500 babes, plus or minus a few hundred. All in their own little individual self contained stasis chamber in suspended animation. Removed surgically from their mother’s womb prematurely, they were now just waiting to be born. The chamber was a deep black capsule two feet in diameter and three feet long. We had just inherited over 13,000 infants.

Aside from Olivia none of these school girls were even aware they had even been pregnant, and I wasn’t about to tell them. The Hive wasn’t about to tell them either. The girls in school were too young, the girls out of school didn’t need the extra baggage. None of this was their fault.

Since there were small children involved now, I called in everyone to discuss what to do with our Super Men and the babies. Even the King was consulted on this issue. It turned out that these were not identical twins as we had originally thought. Identical twins are the result of a single egg or zygote getting fertilized and splitting. In our case these were fraternal twins. Multiple eggs getting fertilized at the same time. And just like we had thought, it had been done in vetro. At least they were a matching pair of one boy and one girl, and no we were not sure they hadn’t bought eggs on the open market. I mean we didn’t know if they were brother and sister, or even related to each other for that matter. Their record keeping left much to be desired we discovered.

By this time everyone was aware of what a threat our Super Men posed to the normal human race. A small percentage of Girls-are-Us voted to sterilize, mind wipe them, and then release them back out into the world. A larger majority of our members voted to just outright kill them, no sugar coated terminate with extreme prejudice or other cute terms, just kill the sons-of-bitches and make damned sure the bodies were cremated where nobody could duplicate them again. Another group wanted to study them. The argument for study went that these were just 13 of a whole planet full. It was possible we would encounter them or something like them again. We needed to know more about them, especially how to resist their power. The only way to do that was to keep them alive, well, and isolated for study.

The Mesmer Power, in and of itself wasn’t so bad, Helen for one argued. It might even be useful the Hive reasoned, if we could reproduce the effect. All this was over my objection I might add. It was the power, added to their ability to breed true that was dangerous. The ability to only produce males, and that obsessive, even financial will to breed one more of their kind that would destroy the world as we knew it.

When we had set up PFEDAMS I didn’t know anything about Mesmer Power, or the so called ESP genes the paranormal researchers had located, for that matter. Now that we knew what we were up against, I thought it would be the right place to study these Masters of the Universe. I just wasn’t sure Jane and company were the people for the job.

When we did a little checking we found that literally hundreds of mainstream universities were doing research into those same genes and doing gene therapy on them too. Among the researchers were the usual 10% of true believers. The dreamers that believed man could be better than he was. On the other hand there was the other 10% that believed they could discover and eradicate all the bad out of man by manipulating those same genes. They believed that all criminal behavior like, rape, violent assaults, and murder were the result of defective genes. Like the Phrenologist of the last part of the 19th Century used to think that the Mark of Cain could be read in the shape of the skull, our modern researchers believed a person was predisposed to a life of crime with some of those same genes.

Then there were the Penologist that studied how to contain those same criminals that society produces. If we were going to run a prison planet we were going to need some of our own to control the population eventually. So we started recruiting for all positions. We were not aiming for the top people in the fields, in fact we were aiming for the ones that felt they were being held back by all the rules and red tape. We were after the black sheep of the tribe, the ones that would break those rules if given half a chance.

In no time we had a list of the rogues in the different fields we wanted, and were prepared to make our job offer, well pitch anyway. Of the 500 we expected to recruit, 375 were males under 29 years of age, and 125 were females under 29. All of them were unmarried at this time and not particularly close to their families or friends anyway.

The job offer was to move to KSA and agree to work in a closed community, with no outside communication for a period of five years on a as yet undisclosed project. They would be provided a salary package well above anything they could expect to make outside the Project itself. These were not the glamorous fields that demanded the big bucks after all.

Each lead researcher was offered the chance to recruit their own staff or team, according to how you looked at it. Of course it was understood they would have to agree to the same terms and background investigation as their leader. If they couldn’t or wouldn’t we would provide a staff for them out of a pool we were going to establish. They would be provided any equipment they needed to complete the project. Most readily agreed to the terms.

The ones that didn’t agree were evaluated and replacements found when possible. Of course if they were ruled accentual to the Project other arrangements were made to acquire them. There are approximately 7 billion people on the Earth at this moment, there are 11 deaths every hour, a large percentage of those deaths are caused by accidents. We have already made arrangements for our needed scientist to become part of those statistics. On PFEDAMS we would handle their complaints about their early demise.