Chapter 18: So Sapien

Deirdre's Story

It's obvious that if someone is after our children, they are probably after the other children of the next generation as well. Andrew is quite prolific. Before he is through he may well have another place in the Book of World Records.

We want to notify the parents of these children. Andrew was reluctant to use email or telephones, since our calls and mail may be monitored. That's when we learned of another of our children's talents.

I was with Elle, reading her a story. It's an odd thing that even though our children can speak six languages and write computer programs, and freeze felons in their tracks, they remain children.

We have every expectation that they may not reach adulthood until their twenties. It is our theory -Donnie's and mine, not Andrew's. We expect an extended childhood for this new species of man that needs to learn so much.

Elle is the quiet one. When she does speak, it's usually to point out something that Emmy has done wrong. I worry about the things that she doesn't point out.

Elle wanted to talk about the awful break-in that we endured recently. Although she is quiet and shy, her IQ is extraordinary.

Elle asked, "Momma Dee Dee, what about our other sisters?"

I was a bit surprised. "What do you mean, your other sisters?"

She said, "Aren't they in trouble too? The bad man came to take one of us away. Maybe he'll want to take one of our other sisters away, too."

I didn't even know they were aware of any other sisters. Perhaps they had overheard something we said, or perhaps they had just read our minds. Andrew keeps reminding me that they know everything.

"Sweetie, we're thinking of ways to tell their parents to take care of them, warn them of the danger. We're afraid to use the phone or email because they might be tapped." There is no reason to hide things from these girls. We're convinced that they need all the information they can get. If they ask something, we tell them the truth as we know it. Goodness, I see I am thinking inside of an h Sapiens box. If they ask us something they will hear our version of the truth whether we verbalize it or not.

Elle said, "If you want, I can tell them."

I felt a little dizzy, and a little nauseated. What was she saying? "Elle, what do you mean, you can tell them?"

"Oh, we can talk to each other if we want to. You know, Momma, in our heads, the same way we talk to each other here."

It occurred to me why Elle was so quiet. In her mind she might be as talkative as Andrew. Maybe she prefers not to verbalize unless it is necessary. What does that mean for the future of mankind? No more radio talk shows. No more Rush Limbaugh. This might be a major improvement.

"Can you talk to all of your sisters and brothers? All of the children of your father?"

She looked as bemused as it is possible for a five-year old to look. "I don't know, Momma. I can talk to lots of them. I've never counted. Do you want me to count? Lots of them are babies, you know. They can't even talk."

One couldn't dispute that logic. I told her to talk to each one she could. They were to alert their parents about the possible danger. I emailed her a spreadsheet with the name of each of Andrew's children and told her to check off each that she talked to. That should narrow down the list of who we had to contact directly.

How does she contact a particular one? Do they have tMail addresses? Can she filter her thoughts by addressee? This is too confusing for a simple h. Sapien.

Andrew's Story

Somebody in the government is interested in us - interested enough to break the law to learn about us. This government loves secrecy about its operations, so I figured the first thing to do was to shed some light on things.

This guy Williams was due to have his hearing. At least the police thought he was Williams. The eGirls let me know that his real name was Morris. We planned to be at the hearing to insure that the truth came out.

We took the liberty of talking to some people we knew in the local news establishment, telling them that this hearing for the attempted kidnapper might be pretty interesting. It was a big time crime for this area anyway so it didn't take much encouragement to convince some radio and television people to show up, along with the newspaper guys.

Since I'm friends with the judge, and the police, and everyone else in the local power establishment, I was able to bring Emmy into the courtroom with the excuse that she might be a witness. The real reason was I needed her to wring the truth out of our perpetrator. That poor fool won't know what hit him.

I had clued Jake Randolph, the prosecutor, in advance that Williams might not be who he claimed to be. I told him that I was pretty sure his ID was falsified. We were tennis buddies. He comes over to our place and lets me beat the crap out of him several times a month. He knew I must have some idea about what was going down.

So when Williams took the stand, Jake's first question was, "Please state your full name."

Williams responded, "Ralph William Morris." Then he looked shocked and said "No. Joseph Williams."

The prosecutor looked surprised. "Didn't you tell the police your name is Joseph Williams? It is Joseph Williams, isn't it?"

The ugly S.O.B. replied "Uh, yeah, Joe Williams. Uh, no, Ralph Morris." He looked very uncomfortable.

My buddy Jake was confused. "Which is it, Joe Williams or Ralph Morris?"

Mister ugly looked confused too. "Ralph Morris." It came out like it was hissing between clenched jaws. "Joe Williams is an alias." That last barely had any power behind it at all. It was like someone had reached down his throat and dragged it out. I bet someone had.

The prosecutor said, "Well I guess you're guilty of making a false statement to the police. I could have sworn they called you Joe Williams in their report. Who do you work for Mister, uh, Morris?"

Morris was red-faced and short of breath, like he was in the middle of running a marathon. He was fighting this, he just wasn't winning.

"I... work... for... the... Attorney... General... of... the... United... States."

Jake's mouth dropped open and there was a loud reaction from the peanut gallery. Suddenly all ears were on the ugly man on the stand.

Jake regained his composure. "Were you told to break in to the Adkins residence by your superiors?"

Morris looked like he was constipated. He was fighting something with all his might, but his might just wasn't enough. "Yes. I was told to take a girl from the house."

The courtroom erupted. Several local TV newshounds suddenly had visions of network access in their eyes. They were sure glad I talked them into coming.

Jake asked "Why were you told to kidnap a girl?"

Morris fell back on the old Nazi response. "I was only following orders."

He suddenly relaxed in the chair as if the bones had drained out of his body. I heard Em's soft thought in my mind. "Is that enough, Daddy? He's tired."

I squeezed her little hand had leaned over and gave her a peck on the check. "Good job, little one. You can lay off now."

I had pretty much decided that as long as IAM remained a faceless and unknown entity to the general public, we were easy pickings to anyone who wanted to hurt us. It is time to bring IAM to public attention. Maybe it is time to bring the children of the next generation to public attention, too.

We won't reveal the telepathy thing we've got going. But the intelligence thing will be big news by itself. We are raising a group of super-geniuses here. All of my kids from every twin I've had the pleasure to, uh, well anyway, all of my kids are super-geniuses.

It might not be such a good idea to bring out the actual parentage of the IAM kids. On the other hand, if known I might be nominated for father of the year on the strength of sheer numbers.

But they might be safer if they are known. I suspect that is some of the information the government wanted when it tried to break into my little database. Eddie's and Edie's firewalls made sure they didn't get it.

But they will find out themselves just by watching the comings and goings at the institute. It will take them a while, but eventually they are going to snag one of my children unless the snagging becomes too public.

I talked to the eGirls about their half-sisters and half-brothers. I was relieved and a little shocked when Deirdre told me that they can 'hear' them all if they try very hard. I would think the 'hearing' of hundreds of minds would be overwhelming, but they said that it doesn't hurt and there isn't too much 'noise' in their heads. They can turn it on and off at will - for one or dozens. And the more they do it, the easier it is becoming.

And if I didn't know about this particular talent, what other talents do they possess that they have conveniently failed to mention to us?

So the cat is going to be out of the bag, so to speak. I've had a contractor begin to build a major league fence and security system around the institute itself. Well, around our home. We are certainly going to be the primary target for any attacks, public or private. We acquired a couple of German Shepard pups. I'm letting Emmy train them. By the time she's done, no one will get onto our property unannounced.

This is costing money! Fortunately I've had Elle looking at the stock market and the commodities market for several years now. Dee Dee and Donnie gave her ten thousand dollars to play with when she was three. That just sounds weird to me. After she started to get the hang of things, she received another hundred thousand. Thank God I married two women who made a lot of money before we were married.

So Elle has been day-trading for a couple of years and doing pretty well. Her nest-egg is up to a million-five, which ain't bad in this market. She says she would do a lot better if we would let her attend some stockholder's meetings of certain corporations.

She just wants to sit there and pick the brains of corporate executives who might be in attendance. By 'pick the brains', she means silently of course - and literally. She says it is obvious that there is stock manipulation going on, and we might as well get in on the action. She's learning her scruples from her sister. Emma has no scruples, I'm pretty sure.

Earlier this year Elle came to me and she looked even more beautiful and charming than normal. She wanted something. I've learned that most women want something, most of the time, often when they look beautiful and charming.

She came right to the point. "Daddy, can I have ten thousand dollars? Please, please, pretty please? Okay, Daddy, okay?"

Now, that's a request that most parents would refuse most five-year olds. When I was five, I would have run out of ideas about what to spend the money on after a couple of hundred dollars worth of candy and comic books.

But I realize she may have different priorities, so I asked her, "What do you need ten thousand dollars for?"

Elle said, "I want to use it for the markets, of course."

"But you've already got a million and a half to play with. Why do you need any more?"

"But Daddy, you told me to play it safe and not take any chances. That's why I've got so little. I want to take a little and try some less solid ventures that might pay more. Could I, Daddy, Please?"

I said, "Elle, would you be gambling?"

She smiled. "Not the way I play it." She's a W C Fields fan. I've often heard her tell Emmy "Go away kid, you bother me."

Of course I gave it to her. She knew asking was just a formality, cause I'm the world's easiest mark. I mean, normally I might be reluctant to give ten thousand dollars to a five-year old. But when your little girl has just earned over a million dollars in the stock market, you tend to take her seriously.

That's one formality that Emmy doesn't usually bother with. If she wants to do something, she does it and maybe she'll tell me later.

I asked Elle the other day where her personal portfolio stood. It's over fifteen million and counting. You know, there was a time when I would have gone nuts about such information. We've got well over sixteen million dollars, just from what Elle made in the stock market (she's keeping separate portfolios, the family cash and her 'mad' money).

I made sure her mothers are taking care of the business end of this. Knowing the eGirls, the money might just disappear in the ether as far as the IRS is concerned. The girls are not convinced of the validity of paying taxes on money they earned to a government they don't trust. In that at least they are conservatives. They insist that the government need never know about the fifteen million.

I said to Elle, "There's got to be a paper trail, an eTrail, some kind of trail, right?"

She looked at me like I was the most pathetic loser on the planet. "Daddy, you are so Sapien. Of course there's got to be a trail, but it doesn't have to lead to us."

My feeling is: if our family suddenly has a whole lot of money, eventually someone is going to ask where it came from. So we pay some capital gains tax. Who cares? We're rich now. We'd be slightly less rich. Infinity minus anything other than infinity is still infinity. That's an equation most of the rich people in this damn country haven't mastered yet. Why don't they just pay some fucking taxes already?

So we are taking a small chunk of Elle's winnings to build ourselves a wall between us and the world. It's pretty sad when you think of it. We are harmless but vulnerable.

Well, we're not exactly harmless. And we're not exactly vulnerable. As a matter of fact when you think of it, we are dangerous and pretty much impregnable. If the Attorney General is coming in, he better bring some napalm.

The government has no idea what a can of worms it has opened. The A.G. should have let sleeping dogs lie. We didn't do anything to him. But now I give him six months before Em has him back in private practice.

I told her to go ahead and bring down the whole damn administration if she wants. We'll let the next administration know that if they want to survive, they better play ball with us. If they agree, we will all coexist in peace and harmony. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Donnie's Story

After the news came out that we were attacked by a secret operative of the Attorney General of the United States, everyone wanted to know about us. I had my doubts, but Andrew felt that we were safer in plain sight than we were hiding in secret.

The Attorney General claimed in an interview that he never heard of this man Joe Williams or Ralph Morris, whoever he is. And he claims to have never heard of the Institute for the Advancement of Mankind or of Andrew Adkins. So now we are at an impasse.

Some people from CNN called and wanted Andrew to be on Larry King Live! They said he would be on with some Southern Baptist preacher who I never heard of, but we were assured was very important.

Andrew said he would appear as long as he could bring one of his children. Since the children were the point, they readily agreed.

I wasn't sure this was a good idea. We were sitting on the sofa in our living room. The girls were out back playing with the dogs. The boys were down for their naps.

Dee Dee had a meeting to attend. We are very civic-minded. Andrew has insisted from the start that we be an important part of the local community. Now we can see why. We have friends here. It is our town.

I said "Andrew should you be on TV? Aren't you setting yourself up as a target?"

Andrew felt he had no choice. "We're already a target. As soon as the government decided we were important, that made us important. We've been in the news for days now. You and Deirdre keep turning down requests for interviews, but eventually things are going to come out. I'm don't like news management, but here is our opportunity to manage the news ourselves. We might as well take it."

I was worried about the inclusion of some preacher. "What about this Reverend Walters? He isn't going to be on your side. He'll try to make this thing into a sideshow, pressing whatever agenda he happens to favor."

Andrew smiled. "Why do you think I'm taking Emmy? She will be my little secret weapon. She is going to hack into his computers at the church and at his home to see if anything jumps out at us. And when this guy goes on the attack - and he almost certainly will - Em will be into his head enough to learn whatever dirty little secrets he is hiding. Then I'll cut his balls off."

I said, "That's a revolting analogy. Please do it verbally if at all. I thought we married a mild-mannered easy going gentleman. But now you seem to be much more aggressive. Are you getting off on this macho stuff?"

Andrew said, "Honey, I don't see any other way to do it. I'd rather sit here in our little enclave and just raise our kids. But our kids need me to go out into the real world and fight for them. So, are you getting off on this macho stuff yourself?"

I must admit that it made me all tingly seeing Andrew act so decisively. He treats us so gently that it's easy to forget that inside that sweet exterior beats the heart of a real man. I stood up. I reached for his hand and then pulled him up beside me. Then I stuck my tongue down his throat.

Sometimes my lust comes upon me and I just have to take him. I pulled him into the downstairs bedroom. He calls it the "Get Andrew laid" room. Andrew is going to get laid. But first I want to taste that powerful member of his.

I threw my clothes off. I was nude in no time. His eyes were on my tits, then on my pussy, then back to my tits. He thinks I'm sexy. When he looks at me that way I feel like I could take on the Atlanta Falcons - one at a time.

I forced him back onto the bed, slipped off his shoes and socks, unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants. He aided me by taking off his shirt. That beautiful dick of his was fully engorged now, sticking straight up in the air. I needed to take it in my mouth.

I kneeled between his legs and gently took that huge thing in my hands. It is as solid as a piece of steel, yet soft and smooth on the outside. My tongue licked from the base of his shaft all the way up to the tip, in little loving strokes. I was holding his balls in my hand, massaging them, tickling that little spot of skin directly behind them. He loves that.

I took the end of his penis into my mouth. It's always a new experience to adjust to his size, no matter which end he's in. My right hand started stroking the base of his cock as my mouth sucked in the head.

My head was bobbing up and down on his gorgeous manhood. Andrew's eyes were closed and his breath was coming in gasps. My pussy was gushing I was so turned on by my man.

I could tell that he was starting to get close to his completion, but when I'm like this I'm too selfish to let him cum in my mouth. I wanted him inside my cunt!

I climbed up onto him and then slammed his pussy down onto his dick, deep and hard. Andrew groaned loudly but his sounds were drowned out by my screaming. I had my first orgasm on the way down that huge shaft.

I withdrew several inches and plunged down again. My hands were on his chest at first, but then I sat straight up and let my hands drop to my side. I was rotating my pussy on his cock, extracting every sensation I could from the intimate contact of our sex organs.

Then I had had enough of just feeling good. I needed to reach crazed ecstasy. I lifted myself up and then plunged down again. I used muscle power on the way up then let gravity do the work on the way down. This is my favorite use for the force of gravity.

I needed it harder, so I started doing the work in both directions. I was like a machine, rising and falling on his thick long dick. I was fucking Andrew as hard and as fast as I could. He just laid there and let me fuck him.

I could feel his dick expanding. Suddenly I was screaming again. Sparks seemed to be shooting in front of my eyes. I felt him spurt against my cervix. My body clenched in passion and then everything went black.

Deirdre's Story

Andrew and Em are to be on Larry King. The whole family drove over to Atlanta for the big event. Donnie and I dressed identically. Our dresses were attractive but conservative. We looked like the perfect Southern mommy that Andrew wanted us to look like even if we aren't, times two. In the realm of business, Donnie and I make all of the decisions. When faced with politics, we are just two simple businesswomen. We let Andrew have his way.

The girls were all dressed alike as well, so we had five-year old quadruplets, at least to the eye of the average person. Even though they are two sets of twins, there is barely any physical difference between Edie and Eddie and Elle and Emma. Ethan and Eric are essentially twins as well. Andrew calls them the twin sons of different mothers.

We created quiet a stir when we walked into the CNN studios. To the casual observer we must look like four separate people, with clones created for the mother, son and daughter. I know it gives Andrew's ego a boost to walk around with all of us at the same time. He's very proud of his family.

We were escorted in to the proper studio, and there we met Mr. King. I thought he was very nice. After he left Andrew said that he was giving Donnie and me 'the eye', whatever that means.

Andrew wanted each set of us to dress identically because he suspected that Mr. King couldn't resist including the whole family in some shots that went out over the network. We look so wholesome and loving that we could win the public to our side while making the Attorney General appear to be an ogre for wanting to harm us. That's his theory, anyway.

When the show started, Andrew was seated on one side of this tri-corned interview desk (with Emmy sitting on his lap), and this Reverend Walters was seated on his opposite side. Mr. King was in the center seat conducting the interview.

Reverend Walters was wearing an immaculately tailored three-piece suit. Andrew whispered to me before he went on that Giorgio Armani must have labored for weeks to put together all of that material. Reverend Walters is a big man. Andrew said that he has so many chins that when he nods his head he applauds himself. This should be an interesting night.

Mr. King opened the show by giving the background, explaining about the break-in and the information that came out in open court. Then he turned to the fat man. "Rev. Walters, you are a close personal friend of both the President and the Attorney General. Do you believe they would do something like this?"

It was obvious to me that the good reverend intended to go on the offensive from the start.

He said, "They would certainly never do anything against the law! But we should be focusing out attention on this man here. He is the anti-Christ!"

Andrew just sat there with an adorable little girl on his lap, looking innocent as can be.

Larry King turned to Andrew. "Are you the anti-Christ, Mr. Adkins?"

Andrew said, "I'm not anti-Christ, Mr. King. But I certainly don't favor the kind of Christ that this man pushes, so I'm not pro-Christ either. I guess I'm Christ-neutral."

King addressed his next question to the preacher. "What is it about Mr. Adkins that you so dislike?"

"He is a pervert, a whore and a traitor. Tell me, Andrew, (I can call you Andrew, can't I?), isn't it true that you've been having meetings with a known terrorist every week for years?"

Andrew blinked. This was obviously a new one on him. "Well, Johnny, (I can call you Johnny can't I?) I don't know what you are talking about. Maybe you better make yourself a little clearer."