Chapter 14: A House Divided

I intend to be much more thoughtful and careful in the future! Before acting or speaking, I plan on thinking twice. A belt and suspenders approach. I’m plum wore out correcting mistakes!

Mom’s nursing me back to health and strength. We are curled up comfortably together, in Mom’s old bed, in her old bedroom, in Mom’s old house. Mom keeps alternating me between her nipples, so neither gets sore. We are also gently fucking.

Mom wasn’t my mom then, only the grossly fat cook Regina. She kept Will’s cock hydrated in her juicy marvelous pussy, during the rape ordeal of Tess. Mom is likewise marinating my sore penis in her juices. I enjoy the slippery warmth of her, not trying to cum. Time to think and heal. Too much time for too much thinking.

Imponderables, I call them. Odd thoughts, like remembering when Mom wasn’t my mom. I wasn’t born yet, and I was someone else then. Think twice? Never-mind promises I made to myself. Somethings don’t bear thinking about even once, or at all. In trying to understand, if you disassemble and dissect, you can ultimately destroy. You’ll go crazy, trying to understand certain truths. Best just accept and be happy things are as they are. Of course Mama is mama. Life depends on such truths! Foundational precepts. Core beliefs. Don’t pick them apart. Let them be!

I’m a happy man. Or could be, if there were less hustle and bustle. Less traffic in and out, through the house. Renovations.

Been thinking a lot, lately. Mom eases my mind, as well as my body. Everybody whose ever been in love, knows that euphoric sensation, of walking without actually touching the ground. Not in a halcyon daze, far from it. Clear minded. Confident. Optimistic! Enthusiastic. Cautious in fact. Mom calls me that, sometimes.

“You’re a caution, I swear!” she says. Only on special occasions, I’ve either pleased or shocked her. Surprised, I think, covers it all.

In caution, yesterday, I called a, well, if I were president, a cabinet meeting. The members accept being called my Cabinet, without my being president. The best minds on EROS were drafted, their names follow.

Mom, Gidget, Laura, Sybil, Sylvia, Bebe, and Gina. All three watch officers are members. Any other venue, would deprive me of at least one watch officers views. The bridge then, is the obvious choice for the cabinet meeting. First order of business.

Security! How do we prevent just any old body, from walking uninvited through Regina’s house, and directly aboard EROS? Locks and keys? Keys can be lost, given away, or stolen, and locks can be picked.

Gidget suggest electronic deadbolt locks, keyed to a facial recognition computer program. Okay, very reasonable, but what about manual overides, in case of computer failure? And tamper proof security for the manual overides? Gidget offers to get back to us on these issues. Next on the agenda?

What created the cottage wormhole, and what might collapse it?

Deliberately I left out my simultaneous ejaculation while teleporting, as extraneous and unhelpful, probably distracting and inconsequential, and certainly embarrassing.

Without my prompting or seeding the idea, all members unanimously conclude, as I already have.

The impossibility of stuffing ten pounds into a five pound sack, created the wormhole. The existing furniture in the room precluded adding the additional furniture, mom’s bed, into the same space. Expanding the room, might have been an option, but hazardous to the seaworthiness of EROS. Opened and ruptured seams etcetera. Moralistic SPIRIT Fates?

I doubt it. Probably some inviolable principle of physics.

Pleased with the worm hole solution, and no injuries, I remain concerned. Is the teleport only in abeyance? Still pending, depending on rectified conditions?

Example, if we emptied the room of furnishings, as I originally requested, would mom’s bed appear in it, and the wormhole cease to exist? Unanimous response. No one knows. Next issue.

Privacy and the best utilization of available spaces.

Mom and I currently occupy, the Master’s stateroom with bath, the mate’s stateroom with bath, and Mom’s cottage with bedroom, and everything except a bath. Even that has a workaround, or walk-around. If we exit via the front door, we could walk to the outhouse in the rear. Too much for two, few?

In contrast, four girls, Bebe, Flor, Luz, and Carlita, occupy the former Chief engineers stateroom. Albeit, the second most spacious aboard, it’s only equipped with one bath. Necessitating anxious young ladies to dance the gotta-go-jig awaiting a response to their frantic knocking at our doors, nearest facilities.

Should we swap? If we swapped Captains for Chiefs quarters, could the inter-ship communications console in the Masters quarters be easily relocated into the Chiefs quarters, without ripping open the walls?

I learn the Chief’s room already has a duplicate communication console installed. Probably was more frequently used than the Captains, when a Chief was in residence. Oh, OK, then swap it is.

“Are you sure you won’t miss Carlita prancing through your quarters, clad only in her too tight panties?” Gina teases.

“A crewwoman, should take Carlita shopping for a training bra. She obviously has mosquito bites, puffy breast buds already! Not appropriate for her to run around topless.”

“OH. You did take notice of her, then.” Gina continues to tease.

Final item. Sally.

“Will you share with everyone, the discoveries you’ve made in the salvaged data so far?” Gidget fidgets under my gaze. Appears to consider how forthright she should be. “No secrets between the eight of us, Gidget. Wise counsel is dependent upon complete information. ” I insist, and Gidget slowly nods in acquiescence.

“Sally has infected most or all of us.”

Not the most politic preamble. Shocked faces, and sharp in-drawings of breath result. Worried eyes meet worried eyes around the boardroom chart table. No comfort anywhere.

Gidget goes on, explaining Sally is infested with nano machines, and sexually transmitted those through her body fluids to us.

We can expect some strange symptoms, psychic symptoms perhaps, and Gidget’s confused we haven’t already seen some.

Not just among us eight, in the crew as well. Sally got around.

“Is it lethal?” Mom asks. Her eyes tear up as they meet mine. To die soon, when for the first time in her life, she’s actually happy, is too unfair. Unjust!

“Quite the opposite , Grams. You, Uncle Phil, and the rest of us, may now be immortal, healthy forever, unable to die, regardless of how we may wish to, and we just might wish we could die.” Gidget was incomprehensibly sad. “Remember Tony? I’m convinced he had a death wish! But he can’t die, so he kills.”

“Are you suggesting we’ll all become as psychotic as Tony? Is that the psychic phenomenon you referred to?” Laura asks.

“Tony had psychic power, telekinesis. He could levitate objects. And move them around.” I said.

“Even throw things, as big and heavy as shipping containers.” Laura wryly adds. Bebe began to cry.

“We almost died.” Bebe recalls.

“Worse.” I add, “He could control nerves in other people, like pulling reins. Not mind control, just physical control. I know what it was like. I experienced it”

“What is the worst psychic power symptom we may encounter?” asks Sylvia.

“For an individual, for myself, it would be, if I was forced to hear everyone else’s private thoughts. No hope of escape, no turning it off, no attenuation, no squelch, no volume control. Constant, incessant, malicious, pernicious, erotic, greedy, murderous, envious, self centered chatter from seven billions of trashy thoughts filled minds!” Gina trembles with the magnitude of the nightmare she envisions.