A True History - Book Four
Copyright© 2021 by StarFleet Carl
Chapter 06
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 06 - Continuing the award winning series - I recommend reading Books One - Three first, even with the prologue here. There was a rocket, but the occupant wasn't a baby. A young man (Cal) is the sole survivor of his planet, crash landing in Kansas in 1984. Cal is found by a farmer and his daughter, and learns what it is to be a human on Earth. NOTE: Any names and/or other similarities between people, living, dead, or fictional are purely coincidental (maybe). Posts on Saturdays.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft mt/Fa Fa/ft Mult Teenagers Consensual Romantic Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Historical Humor Military School Superhero War Science Fiction Aliens Alternate History Mother Daughter Cousins Group Sex Polygamy/Polyamory Interracial Black Female White Male Hispanic Female Indian Female Anal Sex Lactation Massage Oral Sex Pregnancy Small Breasts Royalty Slow Violence
“Johnson Flight, this is Federation Three. More commonly known as Cal Lewis. The CLOL and CLHF Engineers were unsure what to advise you, Fido, and Prop. There has been no boil off from either the liquid oxygen or liquid hydrogen tank. You are going to be launching with completely full tanks, and will have more fuel available than normal. Please take that into consideration.”
“Copy that, Federation Three. We’ve been monitoring the beanie cap here and were wondering just what was going on with it. Fido and Prop will monitor and help with adjustments if need be. We always have to keep pumping more to keep the tank full due to losses, this is a pleasant surprise. Thank you for the heads up.”
“Roger, Flight. We prefer no surprises.”
“Us either. JSC Flight, out.”
I looked at George. “It may not be much, but that extra seven hundred gallons of liquid oxygen can get them a little more boost.”
“Definitely,” he agreed.
We sat back then and just watched as the crew finished loading, and the support team left through the gantry. Then it was sit and wait. Over the headsets, I heard, “This is Kennedy Space Center Launch Control, we are at T-minus twenty minutes. At this time, we will have a ten minute hold.”
There was cross chatter about the Orbiter cabin vent valves being closed, the main and backup flight systems going into launch configuration, and internal fuel cells coming online. Once that was done, the countdown resumed.
A few minutes later, the announcement came, “This is Kennedy Space Center Launch Control. We are T-minus nine minutes. This is the final planned hold, while we have the final ‘go for launch’ verification from the launch team.”
The headsets were busy now, with the voice of the Launch Director calling every station. The response was a uniform ‘go for launch.’
“This is the Launch Director. All stations report ‘go for launch.’ Activate the Ground Launch Sequencer. Begin final countdown on my mark. Mark!”
The clock began ticking down again. Everything was pretty much automatic from this point on, with the ground crews simply watching and monitoring things. Six minutes later, the external tank oxygen vent hood – what Flight had called the beanie cap – was retracted. At two minutes to launch, there was a direct call from the shuttle.
“SRB, this is Challenger. Booster, do you have company at your station?”
“Affirmative, Challenger. I have three additional sets of eyes on the monitors here. They’re all from California.”
“Copy that. Tell Cal Lewis that we appreciate the extra little bit of fuel.”
“Challenger, this is Federation Three. You’re welcome. Use it up, and when you land at Edwards next week, swing by and we’ll have a good party.”
He snorted. “Roger that, Federation Three. See you then. Challenger, out.”
I watched the clock continue counting down. At eleven seconds, George flipped up the switch cover. “The regular range safety destruct is also active.”
The announcer said, “Go for main engine start. Main engines have started. Ninety percent, SRB ignition start. We have ignition. Lift off of STS-51B. Okay, the shuttle has now cleared the tower!”
We ignored everything, being completely focused on the monitors now. I could hear the flight controller say, “T-plus one minute, we are max Q, main engine throttle back to seventy-five percent. First stage complete. We are now through the maximum dynamic pressure range, okay to throttle up. Engines good, throttle up. Stand by for SRB jettison. SRB jettison complete.”
“Federation Three, this is Challenger. Lots of booze. Challenger, out.”
George let out a huge breath of air, then closed the cover. “Thank God that wasn’t needed.” I continued to sit at the station, watching the monitors as the cameras remained focused on the boosters while their parachutes deployed.
“George, look at monitor four!”
“Fuck! We dodged a bullet, didn’t we?”
“How do we save that picture?” I asked.
“It’s all recorded automatically. Jesus Christ, you were right! It must’ve burned through right before jettison. It’s ... shit, just a second. Chase Four, this is Booster. Can you get that angle we just had back?”
“Negative, Booster. We’re too far away, and it’s twisting in the wind. We saw it on our screens here.”
While everyone else in the room was celebrating the successful launch, we got up and headed for the main VIP room. Jim Beggs was talking to some of the contractors.
“Cal, these are the folks from Martin Marietta, that got the tank done in time.”
“Excellent job, gentlemen. We’ll need more for next year. Mister Beggs, we had burn through, at two seconds before SRB jettison. Initial O-ring failure was towards the Orbiter, so the heat didn’t hit the tank, at least not long enough to cause catastrophic failure.”
The Morton Thiokol engineers collapsed into their seat, crying in relief.
“We’re not going to let the crew of Challenger know just how close this was until after they land, correct?” My question wasn’t really one.
“That’s correct, Mister Lewis.” Beggs let out a big breath of air. “Looks like I need to go to Utah.”
“They’ll recover the boosters and have them back here by tomorrow, correct?” McDonald nodded. “Wait until then. It’s technically always possible we’re mistaken. We’re not, but that way, you’ll have additional evidence. And backup.”
Beggs looked confused at my comment.
I grinned. “They’ll try to lawyer up. That’ll be funny to see. I’m in charge of all space operations now; they’re all my responsibility. I had a conversation with the Federation legal team. There’ll be a specialist show up here tomorrow afternoon on a private jet, with some additional help for you. He’ll help with that.”
McDonald looked back up again. “I don’t think anyone can help, if they want to hide things like this.”
“The US Marshal Service and Judge Elroy T. Bannister will make sure it doesn’t stay hidden.” The grin on my face wasn’t a polite one at all, but instead was quite predatory.
We landed late that night at Moffett. While we were getting ready for bed, I asked, “Which one of you was sick and had to go to the bathroom, so you completely missed the launch?”
“That was me,” Beth said. “I’ve seen them on TV before. It was different, watching it from twenty miles up.”
“No issues with shivalingam?”
“We gave her our extras, just to make sure,” Eve said.
“We were so darned busy on the plane ride back here, with everyone excited and talking, I never got a chance to discuss it with you. Any issues, or did you see anything?”
“Other than what you know about, the secondary O-ring failing four seconds before the booster was supposed to be jettisoned anyway, that was it. The flames hit the shuttle, but did nothing to it. The external fuel tank was hit for two seconds in one spot, but the Resist Heat handled it. I think from what I’ve seen, that Spic watched in testing, it’d still fail at that temperature, but we’re talking at least a good thirty seconds of exposure first, if not a little bit longer before it did. I got back down and joined the celebrations without being seen.”
“I was watching all of the monitors from the chase planes. You weren’t spotted, so ... let’s get some sleep, we’ve got classes tomorrow.”
We had classes the entire rest of the week with no actual major or minor issues, for which I was thankful. I offered the crew that went to Florida the week off, but they were all back in the lab on Tuesday. Hugo had let us know he’d be showing up fairly early on Saturday morning. I appreciated the heads up. Friday afternoon, I went to the lab and handed out bonuses in cash to all of the lab assistants for their work over and above during their time in Florida.
Saturday morning we had a leisurely breakfast, then were at Moffett Field by nine. Fifteen minutes later, the tower told us there was a Gulfstream requesting permission to land. It was granted, the plane came in for a smooth landing, then pulled up to the actual airport terminal, where we were waiting for it.
I used my vision to look through the plane and was surprised that there were only four passengers. The pilot shut it down, came into the passenger area, then opened the door. The first one to debark was a man wearing a hat and sunglasses, who hid his face from us. I looked through his hat and saw he had brown hair and noticed he had a goatee. The minor detail that he looked like an older version of me told me who it was supposed to be. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and started helping the women out. There were three of them, and they each looked like they were between four and five months along.
I walked out onto the tarmac, wearing my Salthawks letter jacket and my personalized baseball cap. As they were looking around, I said, “Come on in. Restrooms are just inside, and I already know from complaints that those smaller jets are annoying when you’re pregnant. Pilot, do you need a rolling cart for their luggage?”
He looked at me in surprise at being addressed. “No, Sir. There’s only a couple of small bags that I can easily get, thank you.” He quickly grabbed those, and then I led the way into the terminal.
“Ladies, restrooms are right over there. Pilot, if you want to set that stuff down for now, they’ll be a minute. Sir, if you want to go ahead and take your hat, sunglasses, and makeup off, including the fake beard, I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable while we wait for Hugo here to go change from the pilot’s outfit into regular clothes.”
The ‘pilot’ brought his hand up to his head, taking his hat off, then pulled the black wig and sunglasses off. “That’s almost annoying,” Hugo said. “Thank you, Pederson, for the effort.”
Pederson shrugged. “So far as I know, Mister Lewis has never seen any of us before, so I’m not sure why it didn’t work.”
I grinned. “I have my ways. It’s all good. Are you just the pilot, or are you his version of my Mike Douglas, which is my guess based upon your build and your extra assholes and zippers?”
Hugo froze, while Pederson simply shook his head. “I should have guessed that he’d be just like you, Mister Sokalski. Hans Pederson. I was never with Wackenhut, but I’ve seen and done a few things over the years, including in some of the same areas where your Mister Douglas operated as well, for similar employers.”
I was a little puzzled and it showed on my face. “It’s not Dutch or German. I’ve been around a lot of Amish and Mennonites. Afrikaans?”
“You’ve a good ear for accents,” Hugo said. He finally simply took his shirt off, then opened one of the bags and took out another, putting that one on.
“Guardian of the Planet, so I speak way too damned many of them. Ah, here come your ladies, looking like they feel better.” I used my vision and looked into each of them. Not only were they pregnant, they were just like Hugo and had a full sized vestigial organ within them. They were also wearing rings with a shivalingam in them.
I smiled at each of them. “I’m, rather obviously, California Lewis.” I held out my hand to each of them.
The first one was very pretty, about thirty years old, with light brown skin and short, auburn hair. She spoke with a slight Spanish accent. “Elizabeth La Rosa.” She gave me a firm handshake.
The one with long, blonde hair and in her late twenties, also pretty, had an English accent. “Lady Lydia Jullien, Mister Lewis. Or should that be, Your Majesty?”
“I’m not big on protocol when I’m around friends, and that’s what I hope you are.”
That made the third woman grin, her teeth shining in contrast to her olive skin and short, deep black hair. The wrinkles around her eyes when she did showed that she was probably in her mid-thirties. “I am Dorothea Gianelli, Señor Lewis.” Her accent was pure Italian.
Hugo was frowning, his lips a flat line. He looked like he was about forty years old.
“You have more than a dozen women in your home. Do you have to flirt with mine?”
I chuckled. “Hugo, they’re not carrying my children, they’re carrying yours. Besides, if you haven’t noticed, all women become more beautiful and charming the further along they get in their pregnancy, at least up until they threaten to kill you for doing that to them, because their feet are swollen, their backs hurt, and they’re peeing every five minutes.”
All three of the women laughed at that, as did Pederson. The corners of Hugo’s mouth twitched a little, anyway.
“Come on, the truck’s outside.” I grabbed one of the bags and started walking towards the exit. With my walking away like that, they didn’t have a choice but to follow me. “Hugo, if you want to sit up front, ladies, the center row will hold two of you, and there’s room for Hans and whoever doesn’t want to sit in the second row in the third row.”
Hugo frowned. “You don’t have a driver? What about all of your security?”
“Dave and Yagyu are waiting in a second Suburban at the exit to Moffett. There was no reason for them to be here. And I’m finally not on a restricted license, even if the State of California isn’t happy about that, so I can drive after dark now.”
He looked bemused as everyone got into the Suburban. I got in on the driver’s side and started it. “If you all would, I’m actually a very good driver. But this is California, and the people out here are somewhere between idiots and insane idiots. So, please buckle up.”
Once we got out of Moffett and onto the Bayshore Expressway, Hugo was looking around. “There are a lot of people out here.”
“Yeah, and unfortunately, a lot of them are clueless. Of course, that’s San Francisco Bay on our right. We’re getting off the Bayshore in just a little bit, because I figured we ought to take care of lunch and business first. Then, if you want to tour the city, go see the Golden Gate Bridge, or whatever, we can do that later, or if you stay long enough, tomorrow you can join us in greeting the Challenger astronauts back, out at Edwards. Okay, we’re getting off here, so we can take University Avenue. I didn’t figure you’d feel too comfortable actually going into my house, but I thought I’d show you the outside of where we live, as well as a little bit of the Stanford campus.”
They were all confused as I drove through the campus, pointing out the stadium, the buildings where my research lab was, the law buildings, and the golf course. “Now, over there, that’s home away from home. It’s got that classic military prison camp look, complete with guard towers, machine guns, fences, and lots of razor wire.”
“If I may ... I’ve seen regular prisons that didn’t have this much security,” Pederson said.
“Yeah. Someone decided that at times, they want to make sure I’m not disturbed, for some reason. It’s all good, because it helps keep everyone else safe.”
Hugo turned to me with slitted eyes. “Everyone else safe? What about you?”
I laughed. “You of all people know the truth about me, Hugo. Now, we’ve got a little bit of a treat. The weather is nice, and I reserved all of El Camino Park for us today. They have real restroom facilities for the ladies, and it’s nice weather for being outside.”
We pulled in, a guard moved the sawhorse blocking the drive for us and for Dave behind us, then put it back in place. I pulled in and parked, while Dave parked further away, next to Mary’s car. There were two SPTC buses in the lot and my younger ladies’ sports cars, and that was it.
There were a couple of tents set up on the soccer field. Toby came running up from over from that direction. “Hey, Dad, are you going to get to play catch with us?”
“Maybe later, Toby. Hugo, this is Toby, Toby, Hugo.”
Toby looked up at Hugo. “You’re not nearly as nasty looking in person as you sounded to me on the phone.”
Hugo’s mouth twitched some, then slightly smiled. “I apologize, young man. I was worried about the health of my ladies and our children, so I was under stress.”
“Okay. Mike’s got the grill going and said he’ll get the potatoes and corn on now.” He ran back over to the soccer field, where I could see his girlfriends and my younger wives all tossing a Frisbee around.
I led the way over, where there were a large assortment of lawn chairs set up. Margie, Marcia, and Jennifer were seated, each with large glasses of sweet tea. There was a large grill set up under a tent, with Mike standing at it, multiple coolers on the ground around him. A small boom box was towards the back, with something mellow coming from it. Mary was seated a little further apart from my ladies, with all of my graduate assistants and Cindy Keller just relaxing in the sun. Dave and Yagyu walked up from the lot, with Dave taking a seat by Mary while Yagyu sat down next to Cindy.
Hugo was shaking his head. “What kind of Potemkin village are you showing us?”
“Welcome to a mellow Saturday afternoon in California, Hugo. Hans, that’s Mike Douglas at the grill. I’m certain he’s got another apron if you want to help him with fixing things. He’ll also have some beer, if you want. I’m not old enough, but Hugo, if you want one, just let me know. Obviously, ladies, you shouldn’t be drinking alcohol while you’re pregnant. Come on over, let’s get some of the introductions out of the way.”
He was completely puzzled as I led him to our seats. “Ladies, these are three of my wives. Margie Lewis, Jennifer Lewis, and Marcia Lewis, this is Hugo Sokalski and three of his ladies, Elizabeth La Rosa, Lydia Jullien, and Dorothea Gianelli. They’re about like Hannah and Helen, due sometime in September.”
“If you walk over here, I’ll shake your hand,” Margie said. “I’m eight months along, and getting up and out of this chair is going to take a crane.”
Jennifer and Marcia stood up. “Don’t worry, slut,” Marcia said. “We’ll make sure and keep you company while you’re squeezing that watermelon out. Hi, I’m Marcia.” She held out her hand.
Hugo’s ladies all laughed, then shook hands and otherwise hugged my wives. Dorothea frowned when she saw Jennifer. “Aren’t you a little young to be pregnant, at least by American standards?”
Jennifer laughed. “I love your accent, Dorothea. And no, I’m forty-two. Please, have a seat, let’s get to know each other.”
“You must tell me your secret!” All of Hugo’s women pulled up chairs.
I started walking out onto the field, where the disc was getting a workout. I held up my hand, and Beth tossed it to me. I easily caught it, then flicked it so that it looked like it was going to hit Jonathan, but it swerved over his head and went to Carrie instead.
“Hey, I’m catching up on my beauty sleep over here, Boss!”
“I don’t see Rip Van Winkle around to help you with that!” My comment got a laugh from all of them.
Hugo was shaking his head. “This makes no sense to me. Your women that are going to be mothers ... this is not what I was led to believe, at all.”
“Well, considering Hannah’s grandfather’s name for George Soros is, ‘that damned Nazi,’ I’m guessing you haven’t been getting an exactly unbiased opinion on the actual facts from over here. Of course, I’m not going to say that the report I received on you was totally factually accurate, either. But that’s because there’s not many of us around, are there?”
“Many of us?”
I smiled. “Please. Cris was created in a lab by Doctor Mengele. But he doesn’t have the ability to actually use what we call shivalingam.” I looked at the kids, catching Cally’s eye. She came running up.
“Then there’s this young lady. Hugo, this is Cally Douglas, Mike’s daughter. Cally, this is Hugo Sokalski.”
She held out her hand to shake his. He took it, then opened his eyes in shock.
“You wear one of the Sacred Stones?”
She grinned. “Only to talk to my sisters. I don’t really need it. Of course, neither do you, Mister Sokalski. You and Cal have a lot in common.” At that, she dropped his hand and went running back to join the group.
“Like I told Cris, I’m not the one that was created in the CIA lab. She was. Of course, they didn’t know how well they’d actually succeeded, not before his team came along and blew the lab up, leaving her stranded for a while. But I’m the Guardian of the Planet, and she’s supposed to help me if I need it. Oh, and you were worried about meeting Helen, because she’s the Guardian of the Sacred Souls of Uluru? Carrie!”
She came running over. “Hello, Mister Sokalski. I’m Carrie Holsinger, from Adak, Alaska. I’m one of the Guardians of the Planet, and I communicate with the Sacred Souls of Mount Moffett. I can see why you were concerned, but you have no reason to actually fear any of us.” She glanced over, then quickly looked around. She held her hand out, bringing a bottle of sweet tea from where it was sitting by the chairs. She opened it, taking a drink. “I’m still getting used to the temperatures here, since I spent my whole life in Alaska. Would you like an iced tea, or perhaps something stronger?”
His eyes were wide. “Did you just use telekinesis to bring that bottle from over there to you?”
“Of course. It’s not that difficult. If you were more able to use the powers you have, you’d be able to do that, too. Okay, coming, Sis!” She put the lid back on the bottle and sent it flying back to where it had been sitting, then ran back over to the group.
“Come on, let’s go have a seat.” As we sat down, I raised my voice a little. “Mike, I think Hugo needs a beer all of a sudden. I could use a sweet tea.”
Mike hollered back. “Beer’s in the red cooler; tea in the white one.”
“Thanks!” From where I was sitting, I raised the lids, grabbed a beer for Hugo and a tea for me, then brought them over, sitting his beer on the arm of his chair. I then popped the top open on the can without actually touching it. “I don’t know if you’ve ever had that, it’s not the usual mass produced sex in a canoe beer.”
“Fucking close to water beer. Yes, I’ve had that. Now, would you care to explain to me how you have telekinetic powers as well? Or did you perhaps drug us somehow?”
“Short explanation, like I said, I’m the Guardian of the Planet. In the briefing I had about you, they said you’re incredibly strong, that you cracked a man’s skull open with one hand, like a walnut. Any truth to that?”
“It’s messy when you do that, because the brains just sort of blow out, and the eyes tend to shoot out of the head due to the pressure behind it. Yes, I have.”
“Shake my hand. Go ahead, squeeze it absolutely as hard as you can.”
“You have a desire for crushed and mangled bones? Won’t that affect your football career?”
“I asked for it, didn’t I? Don’t worry. If you do manage to hurt me, no one will say or do anything,” I reassured him.
He shook his head, muttering under his breath about stupid boys, then took my hand and squeezed. He was easily fifty times stronger than the Thug, and I was really grateful that my powers weren’t being negated by any shivalingam. He frowned, and I could tell he was trying harder because of the way his arm muscles tightened. After about twenty seconds, he let up, a look of confusion on his face.
“You have the strength, the near invulnerability to being hurt, and some of the cunning.” I dropped my voice, to a whisper that was quieter than the blowing wind. “How’s your hearing, Hugo?”
“Quite acute, actually. How did you do that?”
“What about your distance vision? That very small yellow sign on the far side of the field. What’s it say?”
“Which one? The one on the left that says, ‘No dogs permitted’, or the one on the right, that says, ‘No glass bottles allowed.’ Why do I have the feeling I’m being tested?”
“How many cans of beer are in the cooler?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have x-ray vision. I’m guessing that you do, though. Damn, I knew that Bauman didn’t have any powers even though he had a large number of the Sacred Stones, no real chance to be worthy of the powers of Shiva when he returns next spring. You do. Is that due to your witch?”
“No, that’s Dora’s grandmother. She’s the one from the Valley of Culiacán, that is descended from the Romany and the people that stole some of Shiva’s jewels – to you, Sacred Stones, to me, shivalingam – thousands of years ago. She’s scary. She even called us at home on an unlisted, private phone number that no one had told her about. But, that’s part of being bred for centuries to naturally have whatever powers of Shiva they could have, since they were all descended from him. Just like you are. I ought to tell the Navy that their intelligence on you is wrong, but I probably won’t bother. You weren’t created in a lab. You’re literally a successful mutation. Do your ladies know you’re considerably older than you look?”
“The four of us have discussed it. The other two ... they have no clue. They’re simple eye candy. These three ... they’re special. They’re the ones who will be the mothers of the next generation. The one that, if I am not worthy this time, will be found worthy.”
“It actually makes sense to me,” I said. “Your father had several of the shivalingam. He was able to use them, to a certain extent. The question I have is whether your mother chose him specifically because of that, or if they were actually working together, so that you would be alive when the Earth passed through the tail of the comet, so you could perhaps gain some of the abilities you have.”
He took a sip of his beer. “Not bad. Not the usual American horse piss, that’s for sure. Who is my father, then?”
“Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin. Your mother was not Russian, though. She was from Nepal, someone who had come to Russia seeking a man who could give her a child that would be worthy of her god, Shiva. I will say this. You look pretty good for someone who’s seventy-five years old.”
He leaned back in his chair. “It appears that even though your CIA no longer exists, there is quite the active spy network finding out information.”
“Oh, they all banded together after the CIA was wiped out, but they didn’t tell me that. Not even indirectly. At that, as you called it, dog and pony show, when Andrei Gromyko gave me the three shivalingam that had belonged to your father, he didn’t realize one minor thing. I have something that Cris didn’t have, something that Sophia Tejeda didn’t have, even something you don’t have. Although I will give you credit, Hugo. You’re stronger with and more capable with the shivalingam than everyone else.”
“Except you,” he muttered.
“Except me. You can use them to a certain extent. You looked for a long time for your women. Women that were close genetic matches, women that could bear you children that would be like you, if not even better than you. You’ve succeeded, and just from what I’ve seen, and we’ve both listened to as they’ve talked to my wives, they’re all three wonderful women for you. There’s just one problem.”
“Do you plan to kill me like you did Randhawa, then? So you can have his power, to rule the world yourself?”
That made me laugh, which caused him to get angry. “Why are you mocking me?”
“Hugo, I’m not mocking you. I’m already there. The Federation of Terran Nations, Mondale is the President, Shamir is the Vice-President, and I’m number three. Once I get a few more years experience under my belt, they already plan on me taking over from them to run the world. You’ve not actually asked me the right question yet.”
“Fine. What is the Guardian of the Planet?”
“I’m so glad you asked. Would you agree with me that, as far as despotic rulers go, Shiva was someone who made Vlad the Impaler or Genghis Khan look like nice guys?”
“He had the power to rule, and he used it!”
“He also wasn’t from Earth, either. He was just as much of an alien as the Messenger from Above.”
Hugo looked at me, disbelievingly. “That’s just a story that he made up, to use as an excuse! Shiva really was a god, one that descended to Earth from a Comet, to rule over all of the planet as one with his powers and might should!”
“Sorry, my friend, it’s the exact truth. Shiva wasn’t actually even his name, it was his job title. He was simply the supervisor of the Star Home Investigation of Valuable Artifacts department. He had a genetic defect, one that condemned him on that world, but would give him super powers here. That’s why he came here. Do you know why I know all of the things about him? Because as Guardian of the Planet, I can access and use the information from the shivalingam. They’re not stones, and they’re not jewelry. They’re computers that use nanotechnology to operate. Look to yourself, Hugo, think to the four shivalingam that you have concealed within your clothing. I will help you.”
Before he could object, I fully unlocked the stones he had, linking them to ours, and sent him the true historical files of what Shiva had done. He saw the war, he saw the effects of the kinetic energy strikes on Australia, the death, the devastation, and the complete and utter disregard that Shiva had for any living being. He also saw that the actual feelings, the love that he had for his three women, were completely anathema to everything Shiva desired. He saw, since I had Rasputin’s actual stones, that Grigori had actually loved Hugo’s mother. Rasputin really had cared for Alexei, the son of Tsar Nicholas and while Rasputin wanted power, he wasn’t a monster.
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