Do You Believe?
Chapter 1

Copyright┬ę 2007 by cmsix

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - I didn't, but when my diabetes went away on its own I started getting a hint.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa  


At the old time camp meeting, the fire and brimstone Baptist evangelist had done a bang up job. They were going whole hog for the good old ways, and there were more than fifty in line to be baptized in the small muddy river's cold water.

The preacher held a young boy in his arms, lowered him beneath the surface and then brought him back up sputtering.

"Do you believe?" the preacher asked.

"I'm not sure," the boy replied, and the preacher repeated the process.

"Do you believe now?" the preacher asked when the boy was above the water again.

"I'm still not sure," the boy replied, and so the preacher tried again, holding the boy under much longer this time.

"Now, do you believe?" the preacher asked, as the boy coughed and wheezed.

"Yes, preacher. I believe. I believe," the boys said.

"And what do you believe?" the preacher asked.

"I believe you're trying to drown me, you crazy old bastard."

I know it's and old joke, but dammit, it was about the way I felt right now, because I hadn't believed, not for a second. Oh, not about God or anything. I hadn't ever bothered with a real opinion about God.

I hadn't believed in spacemen, or aliens, or UFOs - I hadn't believed any of that crap. I didn't know Area 51 from Studio 54 and didn't really give a shit about either until recently. You see, lately things had been happening, to me.

Now not a damned one of the things that happened had been bad, but they'd been things that just couldn't happen. Oh, maybe it wasn't completely unheard of for a pretty much pumped out oil well to start flowing oil again, but it was damned nearly impossible.

Johnson Manufacturing Company Number One was as close to dry as a well got if it was still called a well. Even after the last work-over rig got done it only produced about two to three barrels a day, barely enough to bother with. Then all of a sudden one fine November Second - my birthday at that - something happened down below, and crude oil started coming up by itself, as if it was under pressure down there. Clearly it couldn't be because there'd been no noticeable seismic activity anywhere within a thousand miles. Oil wells just didn't change like that without something noticeable going on.

Still the well was now making five hundred barrels of oil per eight-hour shift. I'd gone from scraping by to filthy rich in a few weeks. See, I owned the mineral rights on that well, I owned them all for that one well. The production company got their share but mostly the oil, and more importantly the money from it, was mine.

Of course some government men from one agency or the next came around to see what we'd done that might be illegal, but they didn't find shit because we hadn't done shit. Hell, there's nothing you can do to turn a well around like that. If there was everybody would do it and the Arabs would be broke. We knew it was impossible just like they did, but there it was. They shook their heads and went home after a month or so.

The well wasn't the only impossible thing happening to me though. I was getting younger, and it started on the same day the well did. Oh I didn't go to bed fifty-nine and wake up twelve or anything stupid like that, but I knew that morning something was happening, because half an hour after I took my glyburide, I checked my blood sugar, and it was in the low seventies. I damned near ran to the refrigerator for a Coke.

And the miracles just kept coming. The next morning when I woke I was clear headed as soon as my eyes opened, instead of the half an hour of moving around it normally took. And that was another thing; I'd slept through the night without having to get up once to pee.

By the time a week had gone by I knew I had no use for the glyburide at all. Not only that, my diabetic retinopathy had cleared up on its own too, and I could see perfectly again. Not to mention I felt great. I was also gaining weight, and it wasn't fat.

Never in my life had I done any serious exercising, and I hadn't started lately either. It didn't seem to matter though. I was gaining weight and it wasn't going to fat. I was getting stronger and I didn't know why. It was even visible, to me at least. I mean, after you've been looking at yourself for fifty-nine years you're damned sure going to notice when something starts looking better, instead of the other way around.

By December 2, 2007, I was convinced that somehow I was getting younger. I looked better and I felt better, inside and out. What the hell, I wasn't complaining, especially since I seemed to be getting rich without doing one damned thing about it.

The only things that weren't changing were my externally visible features. My beard was still almost completely gray and my face still matched my chronological age. Oh, a few things had changed about my appearance. My eyebrows had stopped growing the few extra long ones that were a hassle and the hair in my ears and nose had stopped gaining ground. But anything that would have been immediately noticeable stayed the same. Things that were always covered by clothes didn't though; they seemed to look younger and younger every day.

Miracles were happening to me goddammit! Miracles. I couldn't think of one damned reason they should be, and I sure as hell didn't have any idea why they seemed to be only happening to the parts of me that wouldn't show up.

Oh, I'm sure if I went to a doctor for a physical they would be obvious. Then again, why would I? My health seemed better than it had been since I was twenty-one. Still the facts of the matter were obvious to me, if not to anyone else. I was getting younger, in stealth mode. It didn't make sense, but I wasn't bitching about it.

The next major shock in my life came on Christmas Eve, December 24, 2007, and it wasn't a shock for me alone. Apparently, while on his appointed rounds that night, Santa Claus dropped his biggest gift ever onto the United States of America while he was buzzing around Washington, DC.

Without making one peep, George W Bush died in his sleep. He died silently from acute myocardial infarction. No one even noticed until a White House staffer came in to wake he and his wife. Laura was confused at first because W always woke and woke her at least a half-hour before the staffer arrived. Imagine the scene when they realized W was as cold as a turd in a milk bucket.

Dick Cheney was elevated to President before breakfast, but the sorry bastard, who was not in the best of health himself, died of the same malady before noon Christmas Day. The Presidents are dead - all hail the President, Nancy Pelosi.

Talk about a fucking shock for the good old U S of A, and the whole world too. This one took top billing. News coverage from around the world claimed that opinions of whether it was good news or bad news seemed about equally divided worldwide, but we didn't have to wait long for more highly placed heads of state to roll along with George and Dick.

North Korea was the next country to suffer the same type of leadership vacuum, if you could call such a gift suffering, and they didn't even have the benefit of serial tragedies. Nearly two hundred of their most highly placed officials were blessed with the same treatment in one big orgy of heart failure on New Years Eve that year.

And the shocks just kept coming. Every political leader on Earth must have been beside their selves with worry, since by now barely a night passed without some widely recognized asshole biting the proverbial bullet. Good old Nancy hung tough in the White House, but her former peers in Congress and the Senate dropped like flies all through January, along with almost every one who ruled anything in the Middle East.

A seeming side benefit popped up too. Suicide bombings, car bombs, and truck bombs and the like quit exploding. Almost every day for a while there someone would discover a body with a bomb taped around its chest and it's head removed. The missing part was usually lying somewhere nearby, unless they had happened to be on a steep hill at the time.

My personal favorites were the truck bombs that weren't intended to be suicide style. Some policeman or other would find a truck bomb parked somewhere with the driver's body slumped in the seat and his head lying on the ground beside the driver's door. Apparently their heads just fell off once they tried to exit the vehicle. Man, what a neat trick. I wished I could do it. It didn't take long for the potential suicide bombers to lose interest in that scheme. After all, they were fanatics, not idiots.

Though there was literal panic in the streets in dozens upon dozens of countries, things in the United States stayed fairly calm. Bureaucrats kept the country rocking along on a mostly even keel, and for some reason that I couldn't understand, none of them bit the dirt, but lawmakers were getting hard to come by.

Nancy was in perfect health, but it seemed that almost half of the replacements for places in the Congress or Senate died before they had time to fondle a page's ass. A few of them did fine, but the biggest part of those pressed into service by their states were actually pressed into burials shortly afterward, and it was getting so there were damned few who would allow themselves to be considered for the duty now-a-days.

By the time Easter rolled around things were settling down. It was as if men who knew that they were sorry sacks of shit also knew they wouldn't last in office until the water got hot. Not only were candidates refusing to serve, many of the jerks that were already in office resigned, just in case. Easter showed them how wise they'd been.

Edward - Teddy - Kennedy shuffled off this mortal coil early Easter morning, but he wasn't alone. Almost everyone that was still alive from those that had helped him cover up drowning Mary Jo Kopechne were in turd in the milk bucket shape too. It had taken a hell of a long time for the chickens of July 18, 1969 to come home to roost, but after the Easter massacre you couldn't find one person who hadn't been sure Teddy had pulled a no no, oh so long ago.

The State of the Union that Nancy Pelosi had explained to us just a few months before was changed completely again. It seemed that every day more and more political assholes had heart attacks. I wasn't too worried about it, since no one I'd ever miss or lament had died, so far. Sure, things were near low-level panic all around, but what the hell. People were still buying gasoline and I was still coining money and getting healthier by the day.

That didn't mean no one I knew had died, they had, but I knew I wouldn't miss a fucking one of them. A recent District Attorney who'd given me some grief was pushing up daisies, and while I figured his wife and kids would miss him, I sure didn't. Hell, as far as I could tell, somebody or something was doing the world a world of good.

Terrorism, which had been a growing problem worldwide, was practically unheard of now, barely three months later. There'd been rumors that whole training camps for them died on the same night. Whether that was correct or not I couldn't say. I had noticed that Iraq had settled amazingly, and Iran too for that matter, and I couldn't even remember the last time I'd heard about some atrocity happening anywhere. No matter what was causing all this heart trouble, they had my thanks, so far.

It turned out that heart attacks weren't the only new development. Abortions, which I didn't think were any of my business at all, since I didn't happen to own a womb, had come to an end too. Not from any new laws but from a very strange development. Women who didn't want to get pregnant stopped getting pregnant, and they weren't the only ones.

With all the obvious confusion it had gone unnoticed for a while, but three months or so down the road it was obvious that most women were not able to get pregnant, and the numbers were a little alarming for many of them. Poor people were hardest hit. If a family couldn't be expected to properly support a new member, they didn't get one, and financial considerations weren't the only ones in effect.

Somehow someone or something was deciding which families could be good parents and the females in that family were the only ones getting pregnant. In fact, only women who were in stable relationships with a sane and caring partner seemed able to be blessed with motherhood, as if you didn't get a baby unless you could be reasonably expected to raise it in a sensible manner.

What a concept, you had to be a good parental prospect before you got a child. One of the most distressing things about it for some was that it seemed one hell of a lot of Baptist women were now barren, but they weren't alone. Zero population growth had come and gone in a heartbeat. Understandably, figures were hard to come up with, but the most educated guesses were that the Earth would be down under two billion in population within forty years.

I didn't know about what was happening in other countries, but here in the United States no one had done much to change their ways since Christmas. People were still dying by the thousands in automobile and other types of accidents. Criminal behavior of all types had slacked off a little, but accidental death and injury were still going strong. Maybe the new facts of life hadn't hit home to them yet.

These new facts of life hit home for me on June 19, 2007. No, I didn't die in my sleep. I was pretty sure my heart had to be in great shape, just like the rest of me. It was a good thing too, because after I woke, showered, and dressed I went into my kitchen, and there was a guest sitting at my table. He must have made himself at home already, because he had a pot of coffee made and was even drinking a cup. Hell, I got a cup for myself. I needed it.

"Good morning, Jake," he said; as I sat down to join him at my table.

"I believe it is safe to say you have the advantage of me."

"I apologize for that. My name is Shikictaawa, or that is as close as your language can come. We couldn't decide on a better way to meet you, and I hope the improvements we've made to you will go some way toward redressing our poor manners," he said.

"If you're responsible for the miracles that have happened in my life since my last birthday you can consider yourself forgiven," I said, and with a straight face too.

"Thank you."

"Is it safe to assume you have something more in mind for me?"

"Oh, yes, but it isn't mandatory. You may decline with no penalty. In truth, there will be no advantage to you for accepting. Well, maybe that isn't exactly the truth. There will be no material advantage to you if you accept," Shikictaawa said.

"That may be a good thing, I've already come across more material advantage than I can shake a stick at," I said.

"We noticed that your response to the wealth had been rather subdued but that is of no import in this matter."

"What exactly is this matter? What do you have in mind for my immediate future?" I asked.

"Excuse me, but don't you have any questions about the things we've done on your planet? Surely you must at least assume that we have caused much death here, among other things," he said.

"I might be more worried if you'd done anything I disapproved of. I don't know of a person you killed that didn't need it badly. The lack of new children might be causing a lot of suffering for some, but I don't think it is necessarily unfair, especially to the children that aren't being born. It is assuredly going to be a boon to the children that are being born," I said.

"You don't wonder about what other plans we might have for your planet?"

"Of course I wonder, but do we really have time for a detailed discussion. More to the point, would any input I shared with you change the plans?" I asked.

"Some of your input might change the plans slightly, but as you say there's no need to get into it now. We do have a proposition for you, as you surmised," he said.

"Then all you've got to do now is squat down and trot it out."

"Why do I need to squat down to do it?" he asked.

"That's just an expression."

"Ah, and I think that my ignorance of the expression has given you a clue about our current understanding of your language," he said.

"Slightly, but you catching onto what the knowledge let me know is even more informative."

"In what way?" he asked.

"It lets me know that you spacemen are pretty damned smart and observant yourselves," I said.

"What makes you so sure we are from outer space, as you earthlings call it?"

"The first clue was when you called us earthlings, but even if you hadn't I'd have known that you weren't from Dallas, or (shudder) Washington DC. Even with that knowledge you don't seem nearly as different from us as I might have expected."

"Bilateral symmetry is not unique among inhabitants of other worlds, neither is bipedal locomotion. In my case I came from a world that is similar in size and distance from its primary to your planet.

"There are some intelligent species with more than four major limbs, but they are exceptions. You have not seen the most marked difference between us though," he said, and promptly turned his head to show me that he had two eyes in the rear also.

Now I was impressed, and I had a feeling that he was hiding his advantage in intelligence. The brainpower it must take to accommodate four distinct eyes must be enormous. I didn't mention it though.

"They must have come in very handy down through the years," I said.

"They have, I'm sure, though of course I'm not old enough to have really needed them for survival. It isn't apparent from visual examination, but we do have an offsetting liability, at least as far as you are concerned," he said.


"We have practically no sense of smell, or taste," he said.

"I think I can imagine that would be a disadvantage, especially as your species was raising itself from primitive beginnings," I said.

"Actually the lack puts us on a more nearly equal basis with you than you might think. It takes quite a bit of brainpower to administer the sense of smell, and it can be very useful. I'll admit we think the additional eyes are more useful than an acute sense of smell, but they do bring their own problems," he said.

"Such as?"

"Head protection during battle is the primary drawback, as far as we are concerned. It is of little import now, but before we developed super-strong transparent materials it was a real pisser. I think that's your word for it," he said, and I laughed.

"I'm sure we could spend several pleasant hours discussing our differences, but for now I think it is time for me to spill it. I think that's the proper expression."

"Good enough, and it lets me know that you must have studied telephone sales procedures," I said.

"Yes, we have, but what we want of you is to leave with us for training," he said.

"May I ask what sort of training?"

"Combat training," he said.

"Don't you think I'm a little old for that sort of thing?"

"You aren't any longer. Your body is now back to the equivalent of twenty-one years, and in fact it is in much better shape than you had it at the age of twenty-one," he said.

"Why do I need this combat training?"

"It will sound complicated to you, but I'll start the explanation. We have examined every male on this planet and you are one of seventeen thousand that fall within our ideal specifications. I'm sure I needn't elaborate to you on the reason for not considering females of your species for this training. We do not have any of what some would call discriminatory prejudices. Males of your species are simply better equipped by nature to become warriors. We've taken the precaution of selecting for females that could do adequate service, but we won't train one unless it becomes obvious that the men can't do the job without their help. Besides, many females will be needed to help you repopulate after the conflict. If you need to that is.

"We intend to further enhance your physical characteristics, and then subject you to vigorous training for a combined space and ground war."

"But why? Do you need more warriors for an upcoming battle?" I asked.

"No, we do not. Your planet will need them in approximately five of your years."

Now there was a reason for pause. Things had been moving along swimmingly until he cut his foot on that particular cow patty, and I was now very interested in the program he was suggesting.

"How many of us will you need to train so that we'll be able to take care of that little problem, and can't you just do it for us. I know that sounds horribly like asking for the moon, but if you know the attack is coming and you don't want us to lose, why don't you just take care of it?" I asked.

"We are capable of taking care of it as you say, but political imperative don't allow us to. The species that is coming has no interest in your population; they only want your planet. They are about fifty of your years ahead of you technically, and that's because they got started about fifty years ahead of the time your species did. They are fairly equal to you otherwise; they just had a head start.

"As for your other question, we will only be training you."

"Just me? Will I have to fight them by myself?" I asked.

"No, whether you even fight them at all will be up to you. We simply need you, or one other member of the seventeen thousand subjects, to go through the training.

"We can then install your training into the required soldiers. We are not able to develop the package to install without at least one individual to work with.

"Our technology will allow us to selectively copy parts of your brain to use for other warriors. Don't worry about your personal self - we won't be copying that. We will be using parts of your personality but none of the actual data from your life up until now."

"That is a pretty hard concept for me to swallow. Your species must be very far advanced, or at least I hope it is. Can the upcoming attackers perform such miracles?" I asked.

"To an extent they can. They aren't as adept at it as we are, but they are capable of mass training, including imparting muscle memory. They are very capable of conquering planets for their use."

"You mean we aren't the first?" I asked.

"No, your Earth will be the sixth attempt and they have not failed yet. They are being a little more adventurous this time though. Your species is the closest to theirs they have attempted to remove so far," he said.

"You mean the others you helped weren't able to rise to the challenge?"

"Your species is the first we have tried to help. We only found this little drama in progress lately and the last two of their attempts were against species that had no hope of prevailing even with our help. Be that as it may, we wouldn't have helped them anyway. Some details of your species made us rethink our way of doing things," he said.

"Such as?"

"Before Earth, we had a strictly hands off approach to the things other species got up to, preferring to be watchers only. Your species is different from most though. Especially the notion in your own country of not taking extreme advantage of weaker groups.

"In fact, if not for your repulsive democracy we think that you might have been able to make up quite a lot of your disadvantage to the Ralla, who are coming."

"So you don't think democracy is a very good way of conducting business?" I asked.

"No. We actually know it isn't, at least not in the form you were using. Having the rulers elected by the populace is not completely without merit, but allowing every member of that populace to have an equal vote is a recipe for disaster. It lets the totally uninformed members of society have an equal say in that society. Why should non-informed members have a vote? They have no possibility of making an intelligent choice. Need I point out how many of your rulers and pseudo rulers we had to dispense with?"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me. I don't know of one person that died from what I assume were heart attacks that you inflicted that I'll miss. I'm wondering why you drew the line where you did," I said.

"We were able to educate Nancy Pelosi sufficiently so that we think she can understand what she needs to do for now. I'll admit there was quite a lot of discussion over her. We believe that with our help she will be able to mobilize Earth's population to prepare for what is coming. We will also make sure that no more idiots will last long enough to cause much trouble."

"So you aren't through eliminating trouble spots?" I asked.

"We hope we are. After a little more preparation we will reveal ourselves to the remainder of your world and explain what we know is coming. We think things will go more smoothly after we're able to reach that point. Nothing focuses one's mind like the need to work toward preserving your existence."

"Maybe, but there are people on Earth who kill themselves. Suicide is not that uncommon," I said.

"Many times people who think they want to kill themselves find that they've changed their minds when they learn someone else wants to kill them also."

"I think I can understand that. But what about the fifty-year lead in technology the bad guys have. Won't they be able to do considerable damage before they even land on Earth?" I asked.

"We are going to help with your fighting ability. While you are in training we will be helping by providing information for those on your planet, and by helping to mobilize efforts to construct war fighting equipment, arms, and other technology. We won't teach your people anything that the Ralla haven't learned yet, but if they discover something on their own, by manipulating the knowledge we give them, we won't forbid it.

"Another helpful detail comes about from the Ralla's own doctrine. They have targeted your planet primarily because of your technological proximity to them. They don't want to destroy your infrastructure.

"As an aside they are very fond of certain things you've developed that they never did and a certain portion of their resources are now devoted to copying your work," he said.

"What are they copying?" I asked, hoping against hope it wasn't nuclear weapons.

"They were astonished with the novelty of the iPod and other similar personal devices. They've had sufficient technology, and even better technology for years. Somehow it never occurred to any of them to use it for personal entertainment. Blackberries, or their version of them, are also wildly popular now.

"It isn't important in this case but we think they'd never really moved on from the old Batch Run computer mentality. Their hardware surpassed it long ago, and they even have personal computers for almost every individual. The old "Bigger is Better" thinking just never went away. Their techniques for marketing are also antiquated, though in certain ways that might be an improvement."

"Well why in the hell don't they just copy them and leave us alone?" I asked.

"Unfortunately, that is something else that has never occurred to them, and trading instead of killing isn't part of their thought patterns either."

"So, you're going to reorganize our civilization, sprinkle in some knowledge and let us fend for ourselves?" I asked.

"That is one way to look at our intentions. We prefer to think of it as pruning ill advised policy on your planet. We are not providing anything that you would not have discovered in the next fifty or so years. If we'd had the time we wouldn't have even gone this far. Our projections were that removing the impediments and showing what was coming would have let you be ready within the next twenty-five to thirty years.

"Unfortunately, you didn't have the time."

"What's in it for you?" I asked.

"Nothing actually, and we aren't making any great expenditures. We are going to share some hard won knowledge, and do a few other things, but nothing that will inconvenience us.

"Frankly the Ralla are starting to get on our nerves. They're doing as they are because they're too lazy to find vacant planets and colonize them. In fact they've hampered their own progress by doing so. We're tired of that method and we feel that merely a very strong resistance will cause them to modify their behavior. Even if you don't survive we think the experience will lead the Ralla to seek other means of expansion."

"And if we win?"

"I don't understand what you're asking," he said.

"What if we win and decide to take everything from the Ralla, and then keep at it as they were?"

"After we have set you to basically even technology you are own your own. We'd prefer if you didn't exterminate the Ralla, but if you do... They've done it to others after all. If you take up their habits you will probably run afoul of some other civilization we've helped later," he said, and it chilled me to the bone.

"Well I won't be a part of that, at least I don't think I will," I said.

"We don't think you will either, and that is one of the reason you are first on our list for the training program."

"When do we start?" I asked.

"Have you made up your mind to do it?"


"Then we can start right away."

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