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A Twist of Destiny Bk. 01

By: nightshadow



A note from the author:

DO NOT be discouraged at the length of this story! Like my few other recent entries, it is rather long, so be prepared for a winding story. But it is entertaining! It's filled with battles, heroics, sex and builds up for so much more (which is currently in the works- a Book Two). As with every story I publish, I thoroughly enjoy and look forward to your comments- both good and bad. So please submit comments as well as your votes when you get done with this fun, sexually depraved yarn. I may not respond to feedback from email, but I always read it!

And if you happen to notice a glaring bit of "Mary Sue"-ism in there, please forgive- I hadn't intended to really insert myself into the story; it just sorta happened and, once done, I found that it actually kinda worked well enough to leave it alone.



Chapter One : An Interview

"Specialist David Shayles, reporting as ordered, sir," I said as I snapped a salute when I reached six paces away from the General's desk. I had barely gotten through the door when I announced myself, which had been more for the sake of protocol rather than actual need. The General knew that I was coming.

Lt. General Alec Hannis stood up from his desk and returned the salute as cleanly as I'd offered it. "Relax, Specialist," he said softly. My stance fell back to parade rest, feet spread apart shoulder-width, spine erect, hands clasped behind my back and eyes facing forward. His voice was strong and deep, the way that most Army generals tend to be. He came from behind the desk, his hand outstretched toward me. "Relax, I said," he repeated. "I appreciate the sentiment of respect, Specialist Shayles, but from here on out I want you to be comfortable while you're in my office." When he was finally in front of me, hand ready to receive mine, I followed his order and further relaxed my stance to something more casual while I shook his hand.

"Yes, sir," I said. "Thank you, sir."

"And welcome to NATO headquarters," he added. "You've only been here a week, but I hear that you've settled in nicely already."

"Thank you, sir. Yes, sir, I've found an apartment and we're settled in, as you say, nicely, sir."

There was a short awkward moment of silence while he sized me up. Finally he said, "You're probably wondering why I asked you here."

"The question did occur to me, sir, yes," I answered blandly. I also thought to myself that generals don't make "requests" of junior enlisted men. Generals state their desires and men in my position make those things happen.

General Hannis smiled, but something about it seemed hollow, like he was slightly amused. "I've been studying you for a long time, Shayles," he told me. "Since your days at AIT, actually. You've been a very interesting soldier to watch."

I blinked at that, not sure of how to respond. When an Army general who is stationed in NATO tells you that he's been watching you, alarms and bells start going off in your head. You start to worry that you did something wrong at some point and you start breaking a mental sweat trying to figure out just what the hell was going on. "I appreciate the interest, sir, but... uhm... why?"

By way of answer, General Hannis indicated the chair next to me. "Take a seat," he said as he started to sit down in the one next to him. When we were both seated comfortably in front of his desk, he nodded. "I'm in charge of a very special project. We don't have very many people involved with the project because, frankly, fewer people means less risk of security breaches. You're here so that I can interview you, to see if you'd be willing to participate in the project with us. Normally, the screening process would start at significantly lower levels and you and I wouldn't be having this conversation, but, as I pointed out, there are only a small number of us involved and most of them are civilians. Your involvement would be completely life-changing, and I'm not being metaphorical about that- it would change your life in almost every way you can imagine. The fact of the matter, Specialist, is that you're a pretty average guy. In some respects, you're actually below average- injured knee, bad ankle, minimal PT scores, a pretty thick counseling packet which doesn't necessarily show a pattern of misbehavior as much as it does a general sense of individualism." That last bit stung- the Army doesn't go in for individualistic thinking. "However, there is one quality you have which is well above the norm."

I looked at him evenly, already aware of what he meant. In a way, I sort of knew that this was coming, if not exactly how it would happen. "My intelligence, sir," I replied. It wasn't a question. I knew my strengths and weaknesses. I knew them well. I had shaped my, so far, short military career around them, having chosen to work as an I.T. specialist and computer technician. I knew that I was good at those things and had shown an aptitude for them where others struggled. Ever since I was a child I'd had a special sort of affinity with computers and technology in general, always able to somehow figure out how gadgets of all sorts worked. For me it was an intuitive thing. The details of how things worked were merely window dressing in my mind, constructs of limitation or potential. I knew that I was smart in that way, but I wasn't necessarily egotistical about it. That aspect of my character was always simply a given, a thing that I'd come to accept and learned how to work with. The rest of the qualities the general had mentioned, however, were just as starkly true.

"Yes," he said with a slow nod. "Your intelligence. It's garnished quite a bit of attention, whether you realize it or not. Your scores in almost everything were exceptionally high. Your IQ is 172, well above the genius range. Your ASVAB was also impressive, seeing as how you hadn't been in a school for thirteen years before taking the test. Every commander, sergeant and leader you've worked with has had nothing but glowing things to say about your abilities and potential. And aside from being a so-so soldier, you have an inherent and strong sense of respect and ethics, which has helped to balance your military career." He reached across his desk and pulled a folder that was labeled "PROJECT ODYSSEY: TOP SECRET." He began to thumb through the pages within the file while I quietly sat and mentally chewed on his assessment of my qualities.

"As I said, sir, I appreciate the interest in my intellect, but my physical limitations and personal philosophies have tended to be a bit... problematic. Honestly, sir, I'm a bit surprised at the interest. I've always known that I'm a good man, but I'm not sure as to whether or not I'm a good soldier. Then again, to be a soldier is to serve and a strong desire to serve humanity was part of why I became a soldier in the first place."

"You came here with your step-daughter," he stated plainly and then looked up at me, the dossier on me no longer of interest to him. "How is she adjusting to life in Belgium?"

I blinked at the general again, somewhat blindsided by the question. My mind was still reeling at the fact that my name had somehow ended up as part of a top secret program. I recovered quickly, however, and answered. "She's doing well, sir, thank you. She's already made an acquaintance in the apartment complex where we live and she's starting to take in the sights. I think she intends to see about getting a small job next week, something to keep her occupied and out of trouble."

Hannis nodded in a way that told me he already knew that. "And your wife... she's still back in the States along with your step-son."

"Yes, sir," I said. "She has a job and career back home, working for an R&D company that has government contracts. She does tech support for them and enjoys the work. Darren's about to start high school next year. We decided that, coupled with the fact that we just bought a house before my deployment to Afghanistan, it would be best to not upset the apple-cart. Holly coming with me was more of an effort to keep her out of trouble than anything else. She's eighteen now and, as a legal adult, can do pretty much whatever she wants... as soon as she figures out what that is. Coming here with me, we think, will work to everyone's advantage."

The general again nodded, this time with a slight grimace. "But two years here... and on the heels of a year-long deployment... aren't you worried that it'll put too much of a strain on your marriage?"

I smiled grimly at that. "Of course, sir, that had been a concern we both shared. But we got married late in life, both of us already pretty well formed in our habits and patterns. We've both gotten accustomed to being on our own, even though we'd be happier together. We're a patient couple and we believe that my prolonged absence from home, while inconvenient, can be weathered and overcome."

He seemed satisfied with that answer and nodded agreeably. "From what I've read, she seems like a pretty devoted and dedicated spouse."

At that I couldn't help but smile proudly. "Yes, sir," I replied. "More than that, however, sir, she's my best friend, which is part of why I think we'll be able to get through the separation with minimal trouble."

"And your step-daughter, Holly," he said, once again changing the subject, "seems like she's pretty independent-minded herself, like you. And I see here that she made you a grandfather a few years ago. Tell me, Shayles, do you think being so far away from her own daughter will be a problem for her?"

My eyebrows knitted together now. This general sure as hell seemed to know a lot about my family. Of course, I'd never been quiet about my personal life, but I didn't recall ever making any of my family's issues a matter of official record. I began to wonder just how much he knew about me at that point, but decided to just roll with it and take it for granted that it would be pointless to hide anything. "I don't believe so, sir," I said. "Her daughter's adoptive family has been more than accommodating to her. They regularly send her pictures and emails and they speak on the phone frequently. In a way, they're sort of like an extended family for us- we're very grateful for their care of Cammi. Holly should do just fine."

General Hannis again nodded sagaciously, like he'd just heard the answer he expected. He closed the folder and left it on his lap. "Very well, Specialist. I guess it's time that I ask you a few questions now which will have more bearing on the project."

I glanced at the clock on his wall subtly. "I should probably call the shop and let them know I'll be late in getting back, sir. Today is my first day and I don't want to make a bad impression on new leadership."

A wry smile played across the general's weathered face. "That won't be necessary," he told me. "You've been brought here under false pretenses, Specialist. You're looking at your new leadership. Every official record will show that you're working as an Information Management Officer here at NATO, attached to our Signal Battalion. Friends, family and other service members, even the media, if they become interested in you for some reason, won't be able to tell the difference. Emails will be intercepted and replied to using your style and digital records will be kept which will indicate that you've been working on your old capacity. But the truth will be very, very different. So forget about your old job as an IMO- that's over and done with."

I glanced at the folder on his lap meaningfully. "I think I understand, sir, but I'm still not sure that I'm the right choice for it- whatever it is."

Now the general's smile widened. "Actually, Specialist, I think you'll find that you're perfectly suited for it. As I said, we've been studying you for a long time. Every aspect of your life, your philosophy, your history, your background... everything has been under the microscope. We've pored over every Internet posting you've ever submitted, every email you've ever sent, every phone call you've ever made. Your entire life of the last ten years has been under strict scrutiny. And, despite some of it, we think that you're the ideal type of person for what we have in mind."

My eyes widened at this news. I knew my life wasn't without blemish. There were lots of things that I'd posted on the Internet in recent years which would make most members of American society flush with distaste and possibly even hate. I had online interests which most would consider to be aberrant, if not downright outrageous. That said, I never let my interests interfere with my roles as a father, husband or soldier- I kept that part of my life tightly compartmentalized and away from everything else, almost like a secret identity. The only other person who really knew that dark side of me was my wife, Kathy. While she didn't necessarily indulge me in those interests, she had often admitted to a certain sort of intrigue about them... and expressed respect for my control of them. Until recently, that is. We'd discussed the topic shortly before I came to Belgium with our daughter in tow and had both reached an understanding about it.

I fixed him with a nervous stare, like a deer might look when the headlights of a large truck bore down on it in the dead of night. Surprise and fear etched all over my features. "Everything, sir?"

General Hannis nodded with a sharp gleam of discrete knowing in his eyes. He enjoyed seeing me squirm like this for some reason. "Yes, Specialist, everything," he answered significantly, putting stress on each syllable. "Relax. I can see that you're concerned and I'm here to tell you, right now, that we don't care. You've kept one particular... interest, shall we say, strictly in the realm of fiction and fantasy, which is good and shows the level of self-control that you possess. And, frankly, even it hadn't been, we still wouldn't really care- too much trouble to bother with unless someone complained about it, of course. Besides, the other aspects of your personality far outweigh that particular one, darker aspect. We won't quibble over it if you won't."

"Understood, sir," I said simply. After all, what more could I say? When someone opens your closet and finds the skeleton hidden within waving back at them, only to treat it with bland unconcern, what more can you do?

"Nothing to thank me about, Specialist. Personally, as a man, I think your interests are a little repugnant, but professionally they have no bearing on our interest in you. As long as you continue to be discrete about it, we won't make it a problem for you." 

I visibly gulped as the full import of what the general had just told me sank in. "Yes, sir."

"Now... to continue with this interview... I have a few questions that I need to ask you, Specialist. Please feel free to be candid and frank in your answers- honesty is what I'm looking for."

I nodded at him in understanding, already aware of what was expected of me, but my mind still reeled at so many irregular things going on. A general doesn't interview low-ranking soldiers for anything. And the business about my dark secret, being subtly told that I could do whatever I pleased as long as I didn't draw attention to myself, was beyond surprising. The military tends to take a dim view on such things.

"Okay. First question: how do you feel about aliens? And I don't mean illegal immigrants."

My eyebrows almost leaped off my forehead at that first, unexpected question. I did manage, however, to regain my focus and consider the matter. "Seeing as how I've never knowingly encountered an extraterrestrial, sir, I can't formulate an opinion on them. If you mean to ask if I think they exist, I'd have to say that I think it's absolutely likely that they do exist. I don't necessarily buy the whole 'little green men' myth, nor can I speak to the idea that Humanity has been in close contact with aliens, but I personally believe that the universe is vast and chaotic enough to accommodate their presence."

"And what would your thinking be if we had been in contact with alien beings?"

I shrugged. "I should hope, sir, that we'd treat them with a great deal of respect and deference. Beings advanced enough to accomplish interstellar travel are surely more experienced and knowledgeable, which would make them worth listening to. I'd hope that we could be on friendly terms with them."

Hannis watched me carefully while I answered and gave a soft grunt of acceptance at my reply. I couldn't tell if the grunt indicated agreement or an appreciation for my shrewdness, but he seemed satisfied by it nonetheless. "Next question: two buses are falling to their doom. On one bus is a group of children, on the other a group of nuns. You can only save one busload from death. Which one do you save?"

I didn't hesitate in my answer to that one. "Children are our future, sir," I said promptly. "Their lives are unblemished and innocent."

"Why not the nuns? Aren't they just as innocent and unblemished?"

Again, I didn't hesitate. "The nuns are, I assume, already at peace with God and ready to join their husband-"

He interrupted me. "Excuse me. Husband?"

"Yes, sir," I said. "As I understand it, nuns join a convent on the belief that they are entering into a marriage contract with Christ."

"I see," the general said. "Continue."

"Not much more to say, really, sir. I believe the nuns would be only too happy to sacrifice their lives in the favor of innocent children. I wouldn't like making that decision, but if that's what I was faced with, that's what I'd choose. The children would take precedence."

"All right," Hannis said as he absorbed the answer. After a moment of deep contemplation, he fired the third question at me. "Let's say that you have the ability to go back in time. You find yourself faced with the opportunity to assassinate Hitler. Would you?"

This, I felt, was an easy answer. "Negative, sir."

"Why not?"

"How could I know if so significant a change in history would be for the better or worse? Killing Hitler would change things so drastically that it might even create a paradox, undoing a full sequence of events which might prevent me from ever coming back in time in the first place. It could create a vacuum of power in the Reich which might invite someone much worse. It might make the Reich collapse which would have an effect on the world economy. No, sir, as much as it pains me, I would spare him."

"So you wouldn't change events in the past?"

I smiled. So he didn't know everything, which told me volumes. "I didn't say that, sir."



Chapter Two : A Secret

Several months before the meeting with General Hannis

The first time I saw myself, and I'm not talking about looking at my countenance in a mirror, was while I was in Afghanistan, smoking a cigarette. It had been a quiet night of nominally monitoring the network, which usually boiled down to surfing the 'net and checking out my Facebook page for hours on end. I would typically grow tired of sitting around, doing nothing, and venture outside to have a smoke inside the concrete bunker that was situated close to our NetOps building. I hardly ever saw anyone else during these times except on rare occasions when other soldiers (all night-shift folks) would come outside for a break, just to get away from the ennui. So I had a cigarette in my lips, a bottle of Gatorade in one hand and my lighter in the other, about to lean against the interior wall of the bunker to sit and smoke, when I found myself freezing in mid-motion, just before lighting the cigarette's tip. You know that feeling you get when someone's watching you or when someone has just entered the same room you're in, even though your back is to them? That's the feeling I got just then, that sixth-sense of someone else's presence nearby, multiplied by ten. The moon was in full and cast a lot of silver light on the gravel outside the bunker, but the bunker itself was shrouded in shadow and darkness, difficult for one's eyes to discern anything without the help of a flashlight.


A Twist of Destiny Bk. 01



I can't explain how I knew, without bringing into question topics like extra-sensory perception or telepathy, but just the same I knew that the person hidden in the shadows to my left was none other than myself, my future self. I calmed my racing thoughts and resumed the act of lighting my cigarette. "How far ahead?" I asked the darkened silhouette that stood a few meters away from me. I let out the first puff of smoke but refused to look directly at him. From the glare of my lighter lit up the small area and I could see that I was definitely not talking to thin air. Part of me wanted to carefully extricate myself from this strange experience, but my curiosity would never let it go. I stood my ground and forced myself to remain calm enough to see how this all played out.

He took one cautious step toward me. When he spoke, I heard my own voice coming from his mouth and knew, beyond any doubt, exactly who he was. "You know I can't tell you that," he answered.

"Hmm," I grunted and took another drag. He was shrewdly telling me nothing solid that might give me a glimpse into the future or a way to expect things. "How'd you get here?"

"With a little help that I can't explain," he replied. "Not through mechanical means."

"So... the next question is..."

"To give you a heads up about a few things. To prepare you."

Then I looked at him evenly. My eyes had, by then, adjusted to the dim moonlight and I was able to see him clearly enough. He was dressed in black, form-fitting clothing and black boots. His head was completely visible, however, and I saw my own eyes looking back at me. He had hair on his scalp in contrast to my own shaven pate and seemed to look younger, stronger and healthier. If I didn't know better, I'd have guessed that he was also more muscular and perhaps even an inch or so taller. His upper clothing, while indeed dark, looked very utilitarian, littered with a few pockets, the contents of which I couldn't guess because they didn't seem to bulge noticeably. His pants looked even more mission-ready, however, with cargo pockets, normal pockets and, of all things, a black, bulging pouch strapped around his waist. In the dim light I couldn't tell what might be in the pouch, but it looked to weigh at least a pound. The whole outfit looked like it had been molded to his body rather than put on, leaving no sagging bits of cloth or breathing room yet looking entirely comfortable and snug. He also wore gloves, similarly molded to his skin, and I suspected that, under normal circumstances, he'd be wearing a mask of some sort to hide his identity. I was looking at my future self and realized that, no, I was actually looking at a super-hero.

"Prepare me for what? And if you can't tell me when you're from, how do you reckon it's any better to tell me what to expect?"

He smirked, took another step closer and then leaned against the bunker's inner concrete wall, close to opposite from me. "Y'know... I actually remember having this conversation, almost word for word." I offered him a smoke from my pack and he withdrew it with those gloved fingers. He put the cigarette between his lips, held a finger in front of the tip and I watched studiously as the fabric around that finger melted away to reveal his flesh. A small flame leaped from his fingernail to light the cigarette. He took a puff, the small flame disappeared and the fabric of his glove seemed to reform itself back around the exposed finger. Satisfied that the cigarette was lit, he blew out the smoke and looked down at me, still smiling faintly. "Expect lots of changes," he said. "Tell them about everything except this, the time-travel. For one thing, it's difficult as hell to manage and, for another, it shouldn't be used too often. Neverminding the fact that you can only go back, not forward."

"Then why are you using it now?" I asked. Before he could reply, I held up a silencing hand and felt chagrined as the answer fit into place within my own mind. "Nevermind. I should've known. You're here because it's already happened for you. Temporal continuity."

"Exactly," he said. "The other thing I came to tell you is more personal. They both love you, almost equally. You'll go there. Just be patient and don't push anything. They'll approach you about it."

I knew precisely what he was referring to: a long-held fantasy of mine that I'd never told another living soul about, except under the guise of fiction. "And my orders?" I'd known about my orders for transfer to a new unit with NATO for a couple of months already. I'd been trying to get the orders changed or removed but still didn't have any success.

"Been there. It's happening. It's necessary. Roll with it." He flicked the cigarette away, reached into the black pouch that hung from his waist and withdrew a small steel ball. I watched it reshape itself into a very sharp, small scalpel that was a single, contiguous piece of metal. "Hold out your hand," he instructed.

I obeyed, knowing that he wouldn't tell me to do it without good reason, and held out my left hand, the palm facing up at him. I also half-suspected what he was about to do and steeled myself for the small amount of pain I would have to endure. Sure enough, he held his own free hand over mine (the glove had disappeared to reveal his palm) and applied the blade's tip to his skin. He slashed his palm forcefully, seemingly with a great deal of effort, and I saw the gash first spill out about a tea-spoon's worth of blood before it quickly sealed up, almost in the blink of an eye. I noticed that the blade of the scalpel was twisted horribly but it quickly snapped back into its proper sharpness when he glanced at it. Before the blood could drip from his hand, he quickly sliced open my exposed palm with a flick of his wrist, which hurt like hell, and tipped his palm so that the blood pooled could pour into my wound.

As soon as his warm blood started to seep into my flesh I felt a strange, tingling sensation crawl up the length of my arm. Out of reflex I started to cover my wounded left hand with my right, but he stopped me, holding my arm in place at the wrist. Meanwhile, the tingling sensation that ran up my arm had gotten to my shoulder and was slowly turning into something like a slow burn through my veins. It wasn't necessarily painful- just uncomfortable. I wondered, idly, what would happen once my brain and heart were hit by whatever it was that he'd just put into my system.

Having gone through this already, he knew what I was thinking and said, "Yeah, it'll hurt. Just hold still and let it happen."

"What're you doing to me?" I asked as I felt the tingling move throughout my chest, running just below my lungs and spreading quickly all over my torso. A second later it finally hit my heart and I felt it seize up for a fraction of time, which caused me to jerk with a small spasm. I stiffened in an effort to control myself but I felt like running wildly into the dark, Afghan night to scream in agony. My teeth grit against themselves in anticipation of what would come next very shortly even as I felt my stomach begin to churn.

"Preparing you," he told me as he held his grip on my wrist. "You're a lot sicker than you know. By doing this, I'm giving you an edge, one that they won't expect. It'll make the full process a lot easier later on, I can't tell you when or how. Just trust me."

And, just as he said "trust me", I felt the freight train as it slammed into my brain pan. Everything behind my eye sockets erupted into an all-encompassing flame of pain as portions of my gray matter were re-written in a matter of seconds. I could actually feel it, I swear, as my engrams and neurons were forcibly shifted around by the new blood that was running through my veins. Unable to do much else except to endure it, I let loose with a hoarse grunt and strained against my own tightening, convulsing muscles. He continued to hold on to me while the rest of my body went through this inner change until, after what had to have been only a few seconds but felt like hours, my body finally relaxed and I slumped forward, exhausted after having done nothing at all.

I breathed raggedly as I tried to catch my balance and immediately vomited between my feet. The expulsion of bile and whatever else was in there came out steadily as though pushed out via a wide hose, leaving the bitter and noxious taste of it on my lips, throat and teeth. I felt at once weak and suddenly stronger, all at the same time, as I stared stupidly at the toxic crap that had been, in a single moment, ejected from my body, and wiped my mouth clean with the back of my left hand. It was then that I noticed: the cut he'd made on my palm had sealed up, was completely gone, like it'd never happened.

"Holy shit!" I gasped and glanced back up at him questioningly. "So what now?" I asked.

He pointed his fist down at the mass of ejected matter between my feet and, with a powerful flash of energy that shot from his knuckles, the steaming pile of refuse went up in a foul-smelling puff of smoke. Not a trace of it was left and no one would ever know what had just happened in that small, dark bunker.

"Now," he said calmly, "you lay low. You'll be able to fly a little bit, but not for long and not far. You'll be stronger- stronger than anyone here- and you'll have more energy, sleep less. You won't need your glasses anymore, either, but you should avoid questions about that. You'll heal with lightning speed, like you just did. Feel free to play around a bit with the few abilities you've got, but don't get stupid. You aren't ready for that yet, not by a long shot. What you've got now is just the tip of the iceberg. More will come later, through external means. I can't tell you more than that. Just be patient and keep going on like nothing's changed."

I leaned back against the bunker's wall and took a deep, cleansing breath, already feeling better than I ever had in my life. "Can I tell-?"

He cut me off with a wry smile. "Yeah. She'll like that. But wait until you get home before you do. See you later, David."

Now it was my turn to smile enigmatically. "Actually, I guess I will." And then he was gone. No energy burst or puff of smoke or anything else to signify his departure. One second he was there, standing in front of me, and then in the next second he was completely gone without a trace. I looked down at my left palm. Not even a scar could be seen anymore. The only evidence that I'd been cut there at all was the small stain of blood that seemed to already be drying and flaking away.

I looked down at my feet and saw that I'd dropped my cigarette onto the gravel beside me during the "change." It was still lit and smoking. I picked it up, took a deep puff and blew out the smoke languidly, feeling unhurried and confident now. "He never even told me his name," I said to the empty bunker jokingly. But, of course, I already knew it: NightShade.

----------------------------------

On my next smoke break I found myself, once again, alone- this time without my glasses, which had already been rendered useless to me. It was a bit cool outside under the Afghan sky, a dark blanket of stars that was filled with a bright moon. I lit a cigarette, exhaled the smoke and looked skyward, wondering if I should give it a try. Flying. He'd told me to feel free to play around a bit with my new abilities, with the admonishment to be careful about it. It was dark, quiet, not many people even awake let alone around to witness anything unusual. I glanced from side to side just to be sure that no one could see me. With another upward look, I willed myself to go up, to leave the ground. At first nothing happened. I didn't feel weightless or anything other than a little stupid. Maybe I needed to give the new blood in my system a little more time, I guessed, but it had been two hours since the event. I certainly felt stronger and more clear-headed. I just didn't feel like I was capable of flying just yet. And then it occurred to me that a lifetime of being grounded was the thing that kept me where I was. So I closed my eyes and let my mind go free for a moment, clearing out my thoughts and doubts. As my mind got clearer of purpose, I felt a new sense of empowerment, a sort of calm that started at the top of my scalp and then flooded down through the rest of my body. I opened my eyes again, intent on my desire, and pushed myself up with my toes the way one might do if they were reaching for something on a high shelf.

My feet left the ground. I didn't go up very high at all, maybe only six inches, but when I looked down I could see that there was a measurable gap between my toes and the gravel I'd been standing on a few seconds before. Seeing the ground, I felt the old habits of being bound to the earth creep back to my consciousness and watched my feet move downward. Gentle as a Sunday kiss my feet once again met Terra firma. I calmed myself once more, this time with a grin on my face, looked upwards and pushed with real force from my legs, straightening my spine like an arrow.

I shot off the ground like I'd been kicked off it, the cool Afghan air slipping past my body like a powerful gust of wind. Looking upward, I had no idea how far off the ground I'd gotten, so I looked down to gauge the distance. I was both thrilled and shocked to see the NetOps shack so far below me that I could barely make its shape out in the darkness. I could see the entire base from my vantage point, but it looked so small and toy-like that I couldn't imagine it being so real. It was very similar to the view out of an airplane as it takes off or comes in for a landing, like I was seeing the world's most elaborate doll house collection. When I surveyed the area surrounding the base, though, I found that my vision had not only improved, it had become nearly telescopic. I could literally zoom in on far-away objects and, consequently, magnify objects that were close to me. I resolved, at that point, to start wearing my Army-issue "eye pro" (protective eyewear came in three flavors: clear, amber-colored and sun-screening lenses) because I knew that, eventually, my old eyeglasses would end up giving me headaches.

It was exhilarating to be up there, alone and out of reach. It was also considerably colder, I found, and that was a bit frustrating. I knew, then, that the next time I'd have to put on my fleece jacket to keep from shivering. With the cigarette still in my hand, I took another drag and contemplated the situation. I floated there for a few moments, enjoying a smoke high above my Army base, and decided to see just how far and fast I could go. Tilting myself forward a bit, like you'd do if you were in a pool, I then found it very easy to propel my body through willpower alone. With occasional glances downward I could see the ground moving beneath me and could tell that I was picking up speed with every growing second of confidence. I thought about flying myself past the confines of the base's perimeter but decided against it, reminding myself that NightShade did say that my ability to fly was limited. That said, he didn't tell me for how long or how I'd know I couldn't stay aloft any longer. Some discoveries, I guess, are best made empirically.

After twenty minutes of flying high over the FOB, I felt myself growing literally tired of it. Not the kind of tired that a child gets from boredom, but mentally exhausted. I couldn't concentrate very well anymore and needed a break. Marshalling my mental faculties as best I could, I brought myself in for a landing close to some Port-A-Johns that weren't far from the NetOps shack. I figured that if anyone had come outside during my flight, I could easily explain my sudden appearance by just walking away from the latrines- they'd assume I had been going to the bathroom and think nothing of it. It took a great deal of effort to concentrate long enough to allow myself a graceful landing, however. In terms of mental faculty, by the time my feet lightly touched back to ground, I felt like I'd just run a marathon. My thoughts were scattered and fragmented, almost incapable of linear thinking, but I was still fully aware of my senses and my memory was completely intact. I sluggishly forced my feet to work in unison with my will and trudged towards the NetOps shack slowly, feeling almost drunk. By the time I got to the shack, however, I could feel myself becoming more mentally alert and focused. As I slowly pulled the NetOps door open to walk back inside it, I decided that, on my next "smoke break", I would fly myself over to the Motorpool and try lifting some vehicles, test out the limits of my newfound strength.

----------------------------------

The subsequent explorations of my new talents were fairly mundane and hardly worth detailing. I found that I could heft somewhere in excess of 500 pounds with a little effort, half-a-ton with a great deal of effort and three-quarters ton could be lifted a few inches but no more before I felt painful resistance. I could probably throw a Volkswagen or other small economy vehicle, but I wouldn't count on myself for much more. That being said, I was considerably happy with even that much. I also learned that I could fly at some pretty fast speeds for short bursts, call it 400 miles per hour (that's a guess- where would I have found a method of measuring it accurately without drawing the attention of others?).

Did I consider making bold use of these abilities immediately, to help in the fight against the Taliban? Certainly! But I'm no idiot. NightShade wouldn't have admonished me to "lay low" without good reason. I could heal quickly, but I was not bullet-proof. I could fly quickly, but not for very long. I could lift a lot of mass, but I was not without limitation. I could see far, but I was still prone to getting headaches if I wore my near-sighted lenses. Then I recalled witnessing some of NightShade's other abilities: manipulation of metal at a molecular (possibly atomic?) level, energy pulses from his hands, generating flame from a fingertip (which might have been, and probably was, a modest display), time-travel and I had a sneaking suspicion that the clothing he wore was under his control, too. And those were just the abilities that I'd observed; who knew what else he was capable of? Who knew what lay ahead for me as time passed? What kind of "external means" would enhance these abilities? I had no answers to any of these questions and couldn't imagine how I might resolve them. So while I did consider the idea of putting my new abilities to some good use, I soon rejected the idea in favor of patience and prudence. He was right: I wasn't ready for that yet.

In the months that followed I kept "practicing" with my few abilities, but maintained vigilance in keeping it a secret, playing around only at night and forcing myself to seem as though I wasn't stronger. Thankfully, I'm a good actor.

Chapter Three : A Surprise

When it was time for me to come home, I actually found myself nervous. I wanted to tell Kathy, my wife, about my recent, magnificent change, but I was worried about how she'd really react to it. NightShade had told me that she'd like hearing about it, and I could trust that because he was me, but I was still apprehensive. The entire flight home was fraught with consideration and doubt until, finally, I realized that NightShade had probably gone through the same internal debate and knew from experience that she would appreciate the news.

We got home at night with some fanfare, nothing extravagant due to the fact that I was an early-re-deployer (everyone who was transferring to a new unit or whose contract was close to ending had been allowed to go home early), but it was one hell of a joyous occasion to see my family again. It was an agonizingly boring two-and-a-half hours before they finally let us go home (we had to turn in our weapons, listen to a safety briefing, get instructions for the re-integration process and officially sign back in to our home post), but when I was finally able to drive my family back to our house I felt elated. I wasn't tired at all because of the changes I'd gone through (which surprised my wife considerably- she thought that I'd be jet-lagged to my toes), so I recounted some stories for the benefit of my kids on the way and, when we arrived at the house, I took my wife into our bedroom so that we could reacquaint ourselves after a year of separation. If she was surprised at my lack of exhaustion during the drive home, she was downright flabbergasted at my enthusiasm for love-making!




A Twist of Destiny Bk. 01



After we'd recuperated from our sexual exertions (and I was sure that our son was asleep while our daughter had gone back to her apartment on the other side of town), I and my wife began to talk. "I really missed you," I told her with a happy and satisfied smile on my face.

Kathy smiled back at me with a cocked eyebrow. "Really? I hadn't guessed."

"Well, we could go for another round or two to make sure you get the point," I said as I leaned in for a kiss.

Kathy giggled while holding up a restraining hand and pushed me back gently. The refusal wasn't tinged with disgust at all but, rather, exhaustion on her own part. "No way, honey," she said. "As it is, I don't think I'll be able to walk straight for the rest of the week. What the hell happened to you while you were away? You're like... I don't know how to describe it... like you're on fire or something. I've never seen you so energetic before! Not that I'm complaining, but I just don't get it. Something's changed about you."

I fixed my wife with a long gaze and remained silent for a moment. I knew that she'd eventually notice something different about me but I didn't expect her to pick up on it so quickly. I took a deep breath and nodded in resignation. The moment of truth was, as they say, at hand. I got up off the bed, slipped on my sweat pants and held my hand out to her. "Come outside with me. I need to show you something."

Kathy gave me a perplexed look but followed along. A few moments later we were both outside, bathed in moonlight and a light, dewy mist. Kathy had donned a nightgown and was looking at me curiously as she followed me to the car, where most of my Army gear had been left with the intention of unloading it the next morning. "Did you bring something home that you shouldn't have?" she asked.

I walked to the back of the vehicle and shook my head. "Watch," I told her. Without another word I bent down, gripped the underside of the car and lifted the back end of it about five feet into the air. I didn't even grunt with the effort, though I did feel the strain of it to a degree. I held it there, the car tilted in a way that shouldn't be possible, and looked at her. My wife's mouth hung open in astonishment. She was totally speechless. I gently placed the car's back end on the ground and approached her casually. "There's more," I told her.

"Honey, what-?"

I gently pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her and then pointed skyward. She followed the direction I was pointing and, with her gaze directly overheard, I pushed myself up into the air and hovered there above her, smiling down. "Be right back," I said playfully and then willed myself to zoom south as quickly as I could manage. I suppose that I went about two miles in a matter of seconds and then turned back, taking a few seconds longer than expected to find my house (I hadn't actually seen our home from that vantage point before and things looked considerably more different up there). When I touched back down on the ground before my wide-eyed wife, I said, "Well? What do you think? Cat got your tongue?"

Kathy just turned away from me and said, over her shoulder, "We should probably discuss this inside."

Of all the reactions that my wife could exhibit, this was the last one that I expected. With a good deal of doubt hanging over my head, I followed her back inside the house. Darren, our son (my step-son), was such a sound sleeper that a grenade could go off outside his bedroom door and he probably wouldn't notice it. I didn't know what kind of hysterics my wife might experience as I closed the door of our bedroom behind me, but I was quick to tell her, "Honey, I'm still the same guy. And it's not what you-"

Kathy cut me off and turned to face me. "You know what I'm thinking?" I shook my head in reply. "I'm thinking that... I don't know what I'm thinking. I just saw my husband-with-the-bad-hip just lift our car off the ground and zip around through the air like Superman. What the hell am I supposed to think?!"

That brought me up short and I shook my head again. "Honestly, I don't know, honey. I knew it would be a shock-"

"A shock? David, you have no idea! What the hell happened over there?"

I sat down at the edge of our bed and then told her the entire story about my visit with NightShade. She was quiet the entire time and didn't ask a single question or interrupt in any way. She just soaked it all in and listened carefully to my every word of explanation. By the time I was done I just looked at her, not sure of what else to say.

"So I guess that's it," she said after a quiet moment of thought. "You're going to Belgium and that's that."

"What? Just like that?" I asked with surprise. "I thought you hated the idea."

Kathy sighed heavily. "I do, honey. You have no idea how much. But if what you just told me is true, I don't see how you can't go. If he went, then you must, too."

"So we just keep on going as planned and see what happens?" I asked. "What about Holly? Do I still take her with me?"

Kathy fixed me with a peculiar look, one that I couldn't translate just then. "Do you want her to go with you?"

I didn't hesitate to answer that one. "Of course I do! The opportunity for her to see Europe is a golden one and, as I've told you before, I'm not too keen on going there alone. You've got your job and career, we bought this house, Darren's about to go to high school... we've already hashed that out. But if something happens in Belgium, are we sure that Holly won't get mixed up in it? What if something happens to her? Honey, I couldn't live with myself if she got hurt because of me."

"Did your future self indicate that anything bad would happen to her? If you were in his place, and you one day will be, if something bad happened to our daughter, would you try to change that?"

I gave it a great deal of thought then. It was something I hadn't considered until just then, but I already knew the answer. I wasn't above saving my loved ones from harm or death, no matter what the costs. "Definitely, I would. I wouldn't hesitate. But if I somehow end up with the ability to time-travel, if anything bad happened to her or you or anyone else I love, I'd just go back far enough to stop it from happening in the immediate sense. I'd stop the event, not necessarily the chain of events that lead up to it because doing so might undo some necessary factors in the flow of time."

"But if something bad happens to her, honey," my wife countered, "to any of us, and you're aware of it, doesn't it fit that you didn't change the event after all? That, for some reason, you couldn't change that event?" I just stared at my wife, feeling very stupid all of the sudden. Kathy had never been much of a science fiction fan, but she seemed to have a pretty firm grasp of temporal mechanics just the same. She placed a warm, loving hand on top of mine and said, "Take her with you, honey. She still wants to go and you still want to take her. I have a feeling that nothing bad will happen to her. If anything, it'll give you two a chance to grow a little... closer."

I perked an eyebrow up at her when she said that. "Closer? We're pretty close as it is, honey. As I recall, you've pretty much been her arch-enemy since she was twelve. I've always been the one she talked to."

"A lot's happened in the year that you were gone, actually," she said cryptically. I said nothing and waited for her to say more. She looked down at her hands and began to fidget slightly. "She found your stories on the 'net," Kathy said quietly.

I took in a deep breath of apprehension. I'd written a lot of incest-oriented erotica over the years, most of it before I'd gotten married to Kathy, all of it under an assumed 'net identity which was mostly anonymous. The last year away in Afghanistan had left me with lots of time to write. And I wrote a lot. Most of it was fantasy and idle imaginings, but some of it was based on my real life. Anyone who really knew me would be able to recognize the author if they read those stories. "And, naturally, she knew who wrote them," I added. Kathy nodded subtly, silently. For some reason she seemed shameful and I couldn't figure out why. "So... what? She's not scared of me now, or something, is she?"

Kathy again took a deep, calming breath before answering. "No... not exactly," she said. "Actually, I'd define her state of mind as being... intensely curious. After reading the stories myself, I can see why."

I waited a beat as I took that in. On the one side I was elated with excitement but, on the other, I was deeply troubled. I desperately love my wife. Kathy is my best friend, above all else. I've had plenty of opportunities to cheat on her and never took a single one, all without a moment's pause, due solely to my devotion, respect and love for her. I'd never betray my wife and that was final, a binding spiritual pact that I'd made not only with her but with myself. But there I was, faced with this new and unexpected turn of events.

When I'd written those recent stories while I was away, I'd done so with, at first, the intention of keeping them private, for my own enjoyment. But, as I went back to edit them, I realized that they simply begged to be shared. After all, what purpose has a writer if there isn't an audience with which to share his tales? So I'd hacked our servers to allow me, and only me, access to a certain website where such stories were welcome and published them there. Perhaps a small part of me considered the possibility that someone I know might stumble upon them, but the notion that my step-daughter might be one of them seemed remote if not astronomically implausible. For one thing, she wasn't much of a reader. For another, she had never, even in passing jest, indicated an interest like mine- and I knew her interests well by virtue of our many frank conversations regarding sex. As I pointed out to my wife: I was the one that Holly preferred to talk with and seek guidance from ever since she was a young girl. I wasn't her biological father but I'd proven over the years that I was as much her dad as any man could ever hope to be and I was in it for the long haul. Nevermind the fact that it's normal for a daughter to get along more with her male father-figure, I'd made myself available to her in ways that her mother never could; I listened and rarely ever showed judgment.

I widened my gaze at my wife as the full import of her revelation struck home and said, "How... uhm... wow, honey. I don't know what to say. That's... I'm sorry, my love. I promise that-"

Again, she cut me off. "She got my blessing, actually."

And those words hung there for an interminable amount of time as my brain stupidly, slowly tumbled them around like the mental version of a kid oafishly staring at a rock that had just hit him in the head from some unseen direction. Being gifted with super powers was small potatoes compared to this discovery! It took me a few seconds to find my voice and I was surprised to hear myself saying, "Okaaaaaay..."

Kathy actually smirked at that. I honestly don't know how she felt at that moment, but I don't think it was any really negative emotion. She seemed, for all the world, more amused than anything. "Of course, nothing may come of it," she said off-handedly.

Finally my wits kicked in. "Why on earth would you... condone that? Honey, I love you! And despite all of the issues between the two of you, I know that you love her. So what on earth were you thinking!? And why the hell didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

"First of all," my wife said coolly, "this isn't exactly a topic to be discussed over the phone when you're eleven-thousand miles away. Secondly, I sure as hell wouldn't discuss it over an unsecured phone. As for what I was thinking... you once told me about a time when you asked your dad if you could try one of his cigars when you were a kid. But instead of simply letting you take a puff, he gave you a whole cigar and had you smoke it while he enjoyed his. You said that it made you sick to your stomach and put you off cigars for good. You still enjoy the smell of them because they remind you of him, but you won't touch them because of that memory, right?"

I blinked at her owlishly. "But I do smoke cigarettes. Anyway, what does that have to do with this? I don't see the connection, honey."

"You asked for an inch, you were given a mile, and you found it too overwhelming. It broke you of your interest and curiosity. But if your dad had said no, it probably would've gotten you even more interested in trying it and you might've found yourself addicted to tobacco much earlier on in life. So, my thinking is that, if Holly wants to try and seduce her dad, I should let her take a shot and you should try to seduce her right back. That alone might call her bluff and put her back in her place."

I shook my head in disbelief. "But what if it doesn't, honey? What if... things go further than that? Sex and seduction are worlds apart from the lesson dad tried to teach me about smoking."

Kathy shrugged indifferently. "Then it happens," she said casually, which compounded my disbelief and she could see it writ large on my face. "Look," she went on, "you're going to be gone for two years. You've been gone for most of a year already. I know you, honey. You'll end up missing sex as much as I will, possibly more. But me, I'm like most women: I can go without sex for years, like a camel can go without water for a long time. Frankly, I'll miss you more than I'll miss the sex, which I'll miss quite a lot, too, mind you. But I'll miss you more. But you're a guy and eventually your resolve might crumble. And if you're going to put it in anyone, it might as well be someone we both know and love, someone we both trust to be discreet about it. If it happens, then it happens, but it won't change how I feel about you."

Again I shook my head in wonder. "I just can't believe I'm hearing this..."

Kathy took another deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Imagine my surprise when you come home with super powers and a story like the one you told me. I'd say we're even, then. But, here's some consolation: between now and the time you go to Belgium, you're all mine. I don't want you discussing any of this with Holly while you're here. As far as she's concerned, you won't know about any of this and she'll be free to make her own decisions once she's got you to herself. And I'd prefer it that way. I love you both too much individually to want to bear witness to anything... untoward happening under this roof. In the abstract I can justify it, but I'm not sure that I could actually face it in person. And, to be honest, it's anyone's guess which way she'll go, but I'm hoping that, between now and then, her interests will change."

"But, honey," I persisted, "you know me. You know my... fetishes. And you know her natural tendency towards fertility is no more diminished than yours was before the hysterectomy. But you don't know her fetishes."

My wife's eyebrows shot up in mild surprise. "And you do?"

I grimaced. "When I was here on Leave six months ago, she, uh, caught me surfing some adult websites while you and Darren were out shopping. I started to hide the window, but she stopped me, told me to leave it be. 'Besides,' she'd told me, 'it's not like I don't look at that kind of stuff, too.' So, being the good dad that I am, I asked her what she meant by that. I wanted to make sure she wasn't, you know, into weird shit, okay? So she took over the computer and, next thing I know, we're looking at some of her favorite video clips on the 'net. All of them were creampie videos. Every single one of them. Honey, I'm not sure if you really understand the can of worms you opened by giving her carte blanche like that."

Kathy gave that some thoughtful and quiet consideration, finally realizing the implications of what I was now telling her. After a moment she simply said, "Oh. Shit."

"So now do you understand my concern here, my love? I mean, what if..."

Kathy nodded. "What if she gets pregnant," she finished for me. She stared off into space, thinking it over for a moment and then shrugged her shoulders. "Well, it's not like she hasn't been through that before. The only difference would be that the father would be someone who's worth a damn and won't run out on her like Billy did. Anyway, like I said, we don't even know that she'll actually try it. Maybe, now that she's been given the go-ahead, she won't find it a challenge and will just lose interest."

I sighed. "Maybe. I hope you're right. But if you're not..."

Then Kathy leaned over and kissed me deeply, a sign that she was about to end the conversation. When our lips parted she said firmly, "If I'm not, I don't want you to turn her away. That, more than anything, might be more harmful. I love and trust you. I also know that you love her, despite the lust you've had for her all this time." I opened my mouth to protest that, which would have been a lie, but she silenced me with a finger to my lips. "I'm not an idiot, honey. I've known for a while and, after having read those stories, it just confirmed everything for me. But I'm not bothered by it. The fact is, you kept your hands and your thoughts to yourself, and I know exactly why. It wasn't because you were afraid of anything bad happening; you were being loyal and faithful to me and I love you more for it. But I'm letting you off the hook now, honey. While you're in Belgium, and if Holly makes any overt moves in that direction, I want you to give her everything you've got and more, if you're able. Either satisfy her curiosity once and for all, help her get it out of her system, or do your outright best to get a reasonably legitimate grandbaby in the bargain- I don't care. Just, please, don't give me the details. What happens will happen. For now, you're mine and I'm yours and she's... well, she'll be your problem come October. Now... all this talk has got me in a different sort of mood. Still feeling like you've got some energy?" She batted her eyes at me playfully and gave me a seductive smirk.

How could a guy resist a woman in wanting?

Chapter Four : Temptation

Present time

The rest of the day after my meeting with General Hannis had been spent at my leisure. He'd told me, very bluntly, that my assignment to the Signal unit was merely a cover and that I shouldn't bother interacting with them. The subtext of that was simple enough to understand: my interacting with them would cause complications. So, when I came in to "work" the next day, I would report to the General's office first, get my instructions from his secretary and then go wherever I was ordered to from there. The first few days, I'd been told, were going to be low-key, but next week would be something of a different story. When I asked for clarification on that, the reply was to wait and see and not worry about it. It would be a good idea to explain to my daughter, I'd been told, that next week she would not be seeing me and a handler would be checking up on her periodically. I knew she wouldn't like that, but I could always fall back on the whole "the needs of the Army" routine and she'd stop squawking.

So I got to our apartment that early afternoon and found the place quiet. I noticed her jacket laying on the couch, which told me that she was either still there or she'd just stepped out a few minutes for some reason. Feeling the back of the TV set we'd brought with us, which was still very warm to the touch, confirmed my guess. I went down the hallway towards my bedroom and paused by her door, which was closed. I couldn't hear anything coming from behind the door, so I gently opened it and peeked inside. Well, she definitely hadn't left.




A Twist of Destiny Bk. 01



My step-daughter sat at her desk, in front of her computer. She was naked as a jay-bird, her legs splayed wide open while one hand was busy at her crotch and the other controlled her computer's mouse. The long tresses of her chestnut-brown hair dangled off her shoulders and moved in slight sympathy with the movements of her arms. With the door open I could now hear her computer's speakers clearly. She was watching- intently, I might add- another one of her favorite porn video clips. Her eyes were glued to the screen as she frigged herself vigorously and there was a glaze of expectant bliss on her face while she gently arched her back, making the muscles of her slim tummy taut. She still hadn't noticed me, so I took a few precious seconds to enjoy the sight of her nudity. Holly was a short girl, but a very voluptuous one. I'd gone shopping with her for bras on any number of occasions, so I knew that she had 34-C breasts, but to see them unclothed and so erotically thrust upward was a very real treat, one that I wouldn't soon forget. Her arms were well-toned and her thighs looked very muscular as her calves tightly wrapped themselves around the chair's legs. I could see her nipples, which were small, hard pink protrusions that capped lightly-browned, quarter-sized areolas, and I felt my mouth go both dry and moist with saliva at the same time. I'd never actually seen her naked before and it was truly something glorious to behold, a vision that will be forever etched into my memory.

I'd stared at this beautiful young creature for all of three seconds before I got my wits about me and forced myself to slowly, gently close her door. Just as the gap between the door's edge and the frame started to slim down to nothing, depriving me of this wondrous sight, I glimpsed her eyes darting in my direction in alarm. Even as I felt the doorknob softly click while the bolt slid home into the frame, I could hear Holly's chair scraping against the wooden floor of her room and heard her mutter "Shit. Shit. Shit."

My own mind echoed her sentiment and it was obvious then that I was caught. Rather than try to hide it or move on to my bedroom, I simply leaned against the hallway wall in anticipation. Within seconds Holly's door flew open and she stood in front of me, her hair disheveled, and a look of surprise, shame and confusion on her face. She'd at least taken enough time to put on a t-shirt, which was both a comfort and a disappointment, but I couldn't decide which emotion I felt more. I simply stared back at her while she tried to formulate words.

After a few awkward seconds of shared silence, she said, "Enjoy the show?"

I took a deep breath, let it out heavily and said, "I'm sorry, honey. I really am. I didn't know if you were home or not, so I was just checking to see if you were okay. I didn't mean to-"

"To spy on me?" she interjected quickly.

"I wasn't spying, sweetheart. Honestly, I wasn't. As soon as I realized what you were doing I had started to close the door. I'm sorry for interrupting you."

Holly narrowed her eyes at me for a moment and I could tell that she was trying to discern whether or not I was telling the truth. My step-daughter is, I am always proud to say, a very intelligent and shrewd young woman. In some of the arguments I've had with her over the years, she was well ahead of me and able to stump me with some good lines, surprise me with her keen intellect. I hadn't lied to her just then, so I let her scrutinize me all she wanted and waited for her reply.

Finally, she looked me in the eye and said, "I read your stories, you know."

I feigned surprise then, arched my eyebrows at her and said, "What stories?"

"The dirty ones that you posted while you were away. A friend of mine found them, showed them to me. I knew you'd written them within minutes."

I took another deep breath, trying to look apprehensive, and said, "Okay. And?"

"And..." Holly said carefully, "Should I be concerned?"

"Concerned? About what?"

"That you might want to fuck me when I'm not looking," she replied evenly.

I closed my eyes in mock exasperation and then looked back at her. "First of all, that would be rape and, no, that would never happen. I abhor that kind of thing. Second of all, what would be point of fucking you while you weren't looking? That would be rather dull."

And, for a moment, I thought I'd gotten her off her balance enough that she would decide, then and there, to swing away from me and never again entertain the thought of seducing me. But then she surprised me with the next question, one that I couldn't weasel out of so easily. "Do you want to?"

"What? Fuck you?" She nodded, her face a mask of seriousness. I shrugged a little bit. "It's crossed my mind, sure, but if I haven't tried by now what makes you think I would in the future? Besides, I love my wife, your mother, too much to betray her like that."

"And what if that wasn't an issue?" she challenged. "What if she wasn't betrayed?"

I blinked at her, my face blank. "How could she not be betrayed by my cheating on her?" I asked reasonably. I was being very careful not to necessarily reject this rather sudden advance, but I was by no means going to invite it further. If she wanted me to put my cards on the table, she'd have to do so first. In effect, I was calling her bluff.

Holly rolled her eyes and then looked upward. "Men," she muttered. Then she looked at me squarely and said, "What if I told you that she and I already talked about this and she gave me permission to try and seduce you?"

Now it was my turn to act shocked. "Are you kidding me? Holly, there is no way that would happen and we both know it. You know how sensitive the subject of infidelity is to her, after her experiences with her previous husband. She wouldn't condone me sleeping with someone else, least of all her own daughter. Yes, I wrote those stories and, yes, there might have been some fantasy involved in writing them, but I am a faithful and devoted husband. I won't cheat on the woman I love and that's final."

Holly smirked at me wryly. "But what if she gave you permission?" she persisted. "What about then?"

I shook my head at her, acting like I couldn't believe we were even having this discussion even though I knew that, eventually, it would come to pass. I had not only anticipated it, I'd actually rehearsed it in my head a thousand times in a thousand different ways. But then I shrugged at her and said, "In that case, I guess, then, it'd be up to you."

Holly seemed a little surprised at that. "You wouldn't even put up a fight?" she asked. "Not even a little one? Try to play the dutiful dad and talk sense into her?"

"Sweetheart, you know your mother almost as well as I do: she can be very persuasive. I gather that, if she was giving permission for me to do something like that, she must want me to, for some reason. And when she sets her mind on something, hardly anything can stand in her way. So, like I said, I'd probably end up being game... if you were." Those words hung there, like an albatross standing between us, and the silence was deafening as her mind whirled with possibilities and angles. I shook my head vigorously and said, "Change of subject, before either of us says or does something we'd later regret. I met with my new... leadership today. The next few days are going to be some easy orientation on the post, but next week I'll be gone, mostly for training."

"What?!" she bellowed. "We just got here!"

"I know, sweetheart. I tried to get out of it, but the orders were pretty clear. The last thing I want to do is find myself in hot water within the first week of being here, so I've got to go. The good news is that I've arranged for someone to stop by and check in on you while I'm away. If everything's all right, just let him know and he'll leave you pretty much alone. If, however, something goes wrong, don't hesitate to tell him. The Army looks after its own."

Holly folded her arms beneath her braless breasts, which visibly swelled under the hastily-donned t-shirt, and looked positively incensed. "I can't fucking believe they'd do this to us!" she growled.

"Hey," I said soothingly, "don't take it so hard. And, besides, it's not like you are gonna be forced to sit in on a bunch of brainless training sessions all week long. You'll be footloose and fancy-free while I'm away. Hell, take a trip to Paris or London- they're not far away and I'm pretty sure that you could get some transportation out there."

"But we were going to do that together," Holly protested. "Yeah, I want to see those places, but not without you there, too."

I winced slightly at that. "I'm sorry, Babygirl. I really, really am. Maybe, when I get back, we can go together. I'd still like to, but if you want to go alone I won't... actually, no, I think I'd prefer it if you waited for me to return before you go to either of those cities alone. It might not be safe."

Holly nodded in agreement. "Years ago, when I was younger and dumber, I might've argued against you on that, Dad. But by now I know you're right. I wouldn't feel safe going alone." She sighed deeply, obviously annoyed at this news. "Dammit, this sucks."

"Stipulated and seconded," I replied. "Unfortunately, it's out of my hands. But it'll only be for a week and we've got some time together until then. Maybe on the weekend we can take a short trip up to London. What do you think?"

Her face brightened a little bit at the suggestion. "And next weekend we can go to Paris?" she asked hopefully.

"I guess that all depends on how things go during the week. I'm not really clear on what the training is going to cover. They might have tests scheduled for the next week. I honestly don't know, but I promise that I'll certainly try."

Holly's face darkened a bit. "You're good at trying, Dad, but the Army's been a lot better at preventing. I thought you said that this was going to be an easy posting, that they wouldn't be putting as many demands on you here."

"Well, that's what I had been given to understand. Try to be patient, though, honey. We've only just gotten here. I'm not surprised and actually kind of expected something like this. The first few weeks or months at a new posting, from what I've heard, can sometimes be a bit hectic. Things'll calm down, though. I'm sure of it."

"You promise?" she asked, sounding more like a little girl than she had in years.

I shrugged again. "I can't promise anything when it comes to the Army, sweetheart, but I can-"

"Try," she finished dejectedly. "Yeah. I know. I've gotten kind of used to that by now."

I stepped forward and gave her a hug of consolation, momentarily forgetting the fact that she was buck naked beneath the t-shirt. When she returned the hug, I felt her arms tighten slightly around my back.

"I love you, Dad," she muttered into my chest.

I kissed the top of her scalp, noting the odd mixture of scents in her hair. It smelled of shampoo and sweat. Then I was quickly reminded of what I'd caught her doing just a short time before. "I love you, too, sweetheart. I'm sorry for ruining your... alone time."

Her embrace relaxed a little so that she could look up at me. She wore a small grin. "You could always make it up to me, you know... wanna give Mom a call? I'll bet she has something surprising to tell you." Her eyes twinkled playfully at me and I could see the daring behind them.

"Maybe later," I told her, knowing very well what she was hoping for. "Right now, though, I'm a bit hungry. Spaghetti? I'll cook if you set the table."

Our hug broke and she looked down at herself, my eyes following her gaze. The t-shirt was bunched up around her waist now and we could both see her hairless pussy on prominent display. I've seen a lot of pretty pussies in my life, but hers was easily one of the cutest, tightest-looking quims my eyes had ever had the pleasure of seeing. My cheeks flushed and I felt myself going slack-jawed at the sight. She rakishly looked back up at me and said, "You never did answer me, you know."

My eyes snapped up to meet hers in confusion. "Huh?"

"Did you enjoy the show?" she repeated. Then she pulled the t-shirt completely off her body, showing me her nakedness boldly while I stood just a foot away from her. "How about now?"

I willed myself to stay passive, to make no sudden movements at all, and just took in this unexpected vision. She bravely allowed me to visually soak it all in and dropped the shirt on the floor next to her feet. My gaze scanned up and down her nude form completely against my will, forcing me to scrutinize her every curve. Her young breasts looked firm and rode high on her chest, her skin seemed to almost glow with the special sort of radiance only a teenage girl is capable of producing and she was blessedly hairless from her neck down. It took all of my self-control to not reach out and ravish her right then. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of stunned silence, I said, "Right. Well. Dinner." I started to turn away from her, an act that took a Herculean effort.

She quickly grabbed my hand and I felt an almost palpable exchange of energy pass between us at her touch and froze. If she felt it, too, she did a magnificent job of staying calm whereas I had to force myself not to gasp in surprise. "Answer the question, Dad. Do you like what you see?"

My step-daughter wasn't going to let me go without an answer and she wouldn't abide digression. Of course she knew that I enjoyed it, but she wanted to hear me actually say it. I visibly gulped and nodded. "Yes, Holly. You're very beautiful. And very tempting." And, with that, I felt my resolve harden just a mite more. "And I'm still not going to betray your mother. I'll start making dinner. You get dressed and get the table ready."

Chapter Five : Preparation

When I walked into General Hannis' office the next morning, my mind still somewhat tumbling over my step-daughter's boldness from the night before, I saw Mrs. Thrush, the general's secretary, sitting behind her desk. She was a plain sort of woman, not ugly but not especially attractive, either. She wore a simple brown dress-suit, her hair done up in a tight bun, and wore glasses that seemed to defy gravity from the very tip of her nose. She was typing up a letter of some sort on her computer and dutifully ignoring me until she could find a decent break in her train of thought. I waited patiently in front of her desk for a few seconds, as her fingers flew across the keyboard with a loud clickety-clack­ while her fingernails struck its keys rhythmically. When she was done with her paragraph or thought, she looked up from her screen and fixed me with a steely gaze.

"Good morning, Sergeant," she said crisply. I didn't bother to correct her on misnaming my rank- being older, I'd gotten used to people assuming that I was of higher rank than I actually am. "The general left some instructions for you." She picked up a manila envelope and handed it over. It didn't seem to weigh very much but I could tell that there was more than a piece of paper inside of it. "Follow the schedule within and come back tomorrow."

The moment I took the envelope from her, she turned back to her task and I might as well have been a wooden post for all she cared. I didn't even bother to say goodbye to her and simply walked outside into the main hallway. The instructions inside the envelope seemed simple enough: report to a room in one of the sub-levels of the building and do as I'm told once I identify myself. Attached to the instructions was a security badge with my picture on it. I noted with a bit of wry chagrin that the picture was the one that had been taken of me back when I was in Basic Training, three years before, and the name on it said that I was indeed now a Staff Sergeant in the Army. From Specialist to Staff Sergeant in less than 24 hours? What the hell was I involved with? Noticing that the envelope still had some heft to it, I shook it and a Velcro tab bearing my new rank slipped out of it. I wondered idly if the picture could be changed as I switched my rank tabs standing there in the hallway outside the general's office- I looked a lot different after three years, after all: thinner, a more hardened look on my face, no glasses. The E-1 Private shown in that picture had come a long way in three short years. I also knew, then, that the changes NightShade had alluded to were just around the bend for me and there was no turning back at that point.

I found an elevator and pressed the computerized floor-selector, indicating the sub-level I wanted to go to. The screen promptly flashed that I needed to submit my security clearance badge for access to that level or I wasn't going anywhere. I pressed the badge to the scanning plate and, without further ado, felt the elevator car move downward. For several moments the car moved quietly until I felt it slowing. When it stopped moving, I thought that the doors would open up, but was surprised when I felt the car shift backwards gradually for what I estimated to be about twenty feet. Suddenly I was moving down again and kept doing so for a few minutes until the car stopped again. This time the doors slid open and revealed a long hallway that was filled with doors and people.

Most of the people who populated the hallway wore Army uniforms like mine, but some of them were obviously civilians, most of whom wore lab coats. Everyone moved with a purpose, which is nothing new in a military installation, but none of them seemed to be in a particular hurry. I also noticed that there was very little interpersonal interaction going on in the hallway, that people tended to mind their own business and, if they acknowledged each other at all, they did so with subtle glances of recognition or muted greetings. Two soldiers stepped into the elevator car and both of them looked at me expectantly. It took me a second to figure out that they were waiting for me to disembark the car. Feeling a bit foolish, I walked out of it, spun around and said, "First day," by way of explanation.

One of them, a Specialist, gave me a lop-sided, wry grin. "We figured, sergeant." Then the elevator doors closed, leaving me alone. That parting shot did very little for my confidence, but I figured that, as in every unit, the FNG (Fucking New Guy) has to endure at least a little shit before he's welcomed with open arms.

I turned around to face the hallway again. It was different from the ones higher up. Newer, cleaner. The walls were white and each door had its room number in small, black letters printed on the wall beside it. I found the room number I was looking for after just a few paces and stepped inside. The room looked more like a doctor's examination room. There was an examination table pressed against the wall, another door on the opposite side, a small clinical-looking sink, a stereo, a trash can and some cabinetry. No signage, none of those standard health messages, adorned the walls; it was all very sterile and non-descript. A glance at each of the ceiling's four corners showed me that the room was being monitored by a single video camera.

I stood there for a moment, not sure of what to expect, when the door opened and in walked a rather mousy-looking young woman, easily ten years younger than me. I assume that she was a civilian by the way she was dressed: blue jeans, button-downed white shirt, sensible sneakers and a lab coat. She held in her hand a manila folder and started to read its contents as the door closed behind her. "Good morning, Sergeant Shayles. I'm Emily," she said perfunctorily. "We'll start your preparation regimen with some electrolysis."

I stiffened at that, not entirely sure that I'd heard her right. "I'm sorry," I said, "Did you say... electrolysis?"




A Twist of Destiny Bk. 01



"I did," Emily said casually.

"As in... hair removal?" Dear God, I thought to myself. They've sent me to an Army analog of a manicurist.

Emily closed the folder in a studious manner. "It's more effective than waxing," she told me. "If we remove the hair follicles they won't grow back after The Procedure." I could almost hear the capital letters as she spoke the words.

I leveled my gaze at the young woman. "The... Procedure? What procedure?"

"Classified," she said breezily. "Now... strip. And don't worry about modesty. I've seen it all before and, anyway, I'm gay. Doesn't faze me a bit."

Well, the general's instructions did say that I was to do as I was told. I started to take off my uniform and asked, "So what, exactly, is going to be getting treatment here? Facial hair? Scalp?"

Emily turned around and started to pull things out of the cabinets. "Everything but the scalp. Groin, feet, hands, chest, back, buttocks, face, ears... by the end of the day you'll be hairless from nose to toes."

"Why, exactly, is this being done? Can I at least ask that much?"

Emily seemed to think it over for a bit and then shrugged. "So that it won't grow back, I guess."

I blanched at that but didn't stop undressing. I rather liked having facial hair, dammit. But my memory of NightShade's visit hadn't faded a bit and I now realized that he had seemed a bit hairless when I met him. I found myself wondering, then, what the reason behind that was but now it made sense. When he'd cut open his palm it seemed like it had taken some real effort. I realized, then, that he was probably the closest thing to invulnerable the world would ever see. And that invulnerability probably extended to his hair follicles. That being the case, shaving would be nearly impossible for him- who made razors that sharp? Ergo, he had to be denuded. Lord only knows how he managed to cut hair from his scalp, but I suspected that I'd figure that out sooner rather than later.

As I shucked my underwear I asked, "It's not going to hurt, is it?"

Emily shrugged. "Probably at little. But it won't last. It just stings a bit. I do it to myself all the time. The girls love it." I took that on faith.

I won't go into the gory details. Suffice to say that Emily was a consummate professional and kept her task very clinical in every regard. Yes, it was a bit uncomfortable, but thanks to the regenerative abilities that had been passed on to me by NightShade, I didn't suffer half as much as one might have guessed. Emily thought that I was just being stoic when I remarked that, sometimes, it tickled. The thought did occur to me, however, that my healing ability might make the whole practice a moot point, but I found that I was mistaken. The hair neither grew back nor did the follicles regenerate. That perplexed me a bit, but I didn't let on with Emily present. The whole procedure, though, was very thorough and took most of the day, which was wearisome. I wondered what Holly would think of the "new" me if and when she finally did manage to "seduce" me. Such thoughts naturally led to a short, embarrassing moment with Emily, but she merely regarded it with a slight grunt of dismissal. I wondered just how gay she really was, though, when she glanced at it a second time.

I went home that evening feeling a bit strange and doubtful about this whole thing. My first day at the office had consisted of denuding 95% of my body- yes, even my ears and between my eyebrows got the treatment. What in the world did the second day hold for me, I wondered.

That night Holly's ardor was considerably cooler and she made no overt moves to seduce me except to suggest that I call my wife soon. She didn't know that I already had talked with Kathy and had warned her that, soon, I'd be calling to "ask" her about our daughter's strange claims. I'd decided to let the young woman stew in her own juices (literally and figuratively) until next week, after The Procedure. If she was still in a hurry to trip me, I was going to give her plenty of time and opportunity to think it over. A week of absence might change her mind. That was Kathy's opinion. I, however, didn't think a week away from Holly's advances would change anything.

And Holly barely even noticed that I was now mostly hairless (while she seemed to have no problems with letting me see her naked, I wasn't quite ready to follow suit). She did, however, mention that I seemed to have done a particularly good job of shaving that day. "Not even a tiny bit of stubble," she noted while we ate dinner. Beyond that, though: nothing. After dinner was done I told her that I wanted to go out for a short walk and get some fresh air. She offered to join me, but I begged off, saying that I needed to do some processing about the day's events in private. She demurred and I left a few minutes later.

After about ten minutes of aimlessly walking around outside I finally found a secluded alleyway, double-checked to make certain that no one could see me, and pushed myself off the ground. I could immediately tell that my powers had somehow diminished in the last six months as I couldn't seem to get much speed (maybe fifty miles per hour) and I felt mental exhaustion just after a few minutes of being airborne. I came back down to the ground in the same alleyway and pondered that discovery while smoking a cigarette. Why would my abilities start going away, I wondered. What could cause that? I didn't know a whole lot about biology but I did know the functions of various organs. Kidneys filter out impurities and nourishment from fluids in one's body and its output ends up becoming urine. In the same way, a person's liver does the same thing for blood- it cleans out impurities and makes the blood, among other things, seem like new. Of course, the process is a lot more complicated than that, and I knew it, but that was the bare-bones description of the liver's primary function. Perhaps, over the last six months, whatever enhanced properties that had existed in NightShade's blood had gotten filtered out of mine. Where did the "foreign" elements of that blood go? How come it took so long for it to dissipate? NightShade had told me that he was giving me a sort of booster, to make the greater changes he underwent less painful- no, I amended, he'd said that it would make "the full process easier" and to give me an edge that they wouldn't expect. Had something changed in the timeline and a window of opportunity had somehow been missed? Would there still be enough of his blood co-mingled with mine to make a difference? Or was the experience of what it did to me supposed to serve as "preparation", a sort of preview of what's to come? I inwardly cursed him for being so damned enigmatic about the whole thing and quickly felt like an idiot- I was cursing a person that I would eventually become: my future self. No good can come of that, so I pushed the frustration from my mind and resolved to just ride this out, see where it led me.

The next day I reported to General Hannis' office, like the day before, and the situation was much the same. Mrs. Thrush, instead of giving me a folder with directions in it, simply told me to go to a different room in The Basement. I didn't have to ask where The Basement was, by then; I'd heard the sub-level I'd been in the day before referred to as such.

I reported to the room and identified myself to the Specialist seated behind the reception desk within. He marked my name off a small list, told me to wait a few minutes until someone came to get me and then ignored me entirely. I'd barely planted my ass in one of the uncomfortable seats in that waiting room before another lab-coated civilian poked his head through the door beside the reception desk and called me in. I followed him down a narrow hallway until he led me into another room. Inside the room was a massive chamber that looked like something between a tanning booth and a photo booth.

I regarded the booth with a blank expression while the man closed the door behind us. "Let me guess," I said. "I'm supposed to disrobe, right?"

The technician walked past me and said blandly, "You can leave your underwear on this time. Nothing so invasive as yesterday. Once you're down to your skivvies, you'll step inside the scanner, stand perfectly still and wait there. The first scan will take about twenty minutes and then you'll be allowed to take a break. The second scan will take about twice as long, but you'll be allowed to lay down for that one. The third scan will seem like an eternity, two hours, but it'll be easier because you'll be able to move around if you want to. After that we'll be done for the day."

"What, exactly, are we scanning?" I asked.

The technician gave me a narrow-eyed stare for a moment and then shrugged. "Body measurements and internal organs in the first scan. The second scan will be an MRI and a study of your skeletal structure. The third, and longest one, will be a full scan of your molecular structure. We'll begin whenever you're ready."

With that, he left me alone in the room. I took off my uniform, folded it neatly on the floor beside the scanning booth, and stepped inside. It was dark but surprisingly warm in there. After a few seconds a small speaker inside the booth came to life and I heard the man's voice tell me to stand still. If I moved, even to scratch my nose, he'd have to restart the scan. We got ten minutes into it before I goofed it and he had to restart it. Twenty agonizingly dull minutes passed by before it was done. With the first scan done, I was told to get dressed and go get some lunch, then the next scan would start when I got back.

I wish that I'd taken longer on my lunch break. The second scan did indeed take twice as long as the first scan and, by the time it was done, I had to piss like a rushing racehorse. As soon as I was given permission to get dressed, I did so in what had to be record time and anxiously asked for the nearest bathroom.

I was thankful that I didn't suffer from claustrophobia. The third scan was infinitely more boring. And I had to be completely naked for it because the cloth of underwear would throw off the molecular scan. During my time in there I thought about all kinds of things, firstly about the fact that NightShade's enhanced blood might throw the molecular scans off somehow or, worse, expose the fact that he had given it to me before they had. I pushed such thoughts aside, though, because, even if they noticed the existence of the enhanced blood and the changes it had caused throughout my body, the might interpret that as something inherent within me and may actually improve my chances as a "candidate" for their program (and, as it happens, I was completely correct, on all counts). But you might guess what took up the majority of my attention: Holly.

I'm a very imaginative and creative type of individual, really. You'd think that most computer geeks like me would be all about coding and hacking and whatnot. Well, to be honest, some of that does vaguely interest me, but it's always come so naturally to me that I don't pursue it with any real vigor. But writing, art, music, religion, philosophy... those things really switch me on. So it's no surprise that I have a vivid and colorful imagination and, in point of fact, it's helped me to anticipate all kinds of situations that most other people wouldn't even think to prepare for. For nearly two straight hours I ran through my mind all kinds of possible scenarios that might come up in the near future. Most of them, I admit, ended up with Holly and me copulating wildly, like rutting animals, but I did try to think of a few ways to defuse her clearly volatile interests in me.

The problem with that whole situation is that I did want to bed the girl. I'm her dad, though, and that causes certain kinds of personal conflicts, which anyone couldn't argue against. I had a duty to her growth and development as a functional member of society. If I were to have sexual relations with her, even with my wife's "blessing", I'd be teaching her, by proxy, that the rules of society, vis a vis incest, are prosaic at best. And even though we shared no sanguinity, what we'd engage in was still, as far as The Law was concerned, illegal incest. But, then again, we were technically in Belgium, a country whose laws on the matter were quite lax. As long as we stayed in Belgium, no one could really do anything to us but cast a few ugly looks... unless someone wanted to make it a military justice matter, which would be messy any way you looked at it because the military had invested and would invest a great deal of resources into turning me into, of all things, a super-hero. And, anyway, weren't super-heroes supposed to be beacons of justice and morality?

But, then, I realized that I wasn't being groomed in any ethical sense for my future role. The people in charge of the project- and I suspected General Hannis was in that probably very small group- had already taken it for granted that my moral compass pointed North enough to suit their ends. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I was not supposed to be a super-hero; I was being made into a weapon that represented the will of a government (at the very least) or a military agenda (at the very worst). The mores of American society were, I realized, of secondary or even tertiary importance to the Army's goals. I inwardly vowed to myself that, no matter what, I would not allow myself to be used in any way that might overthrow a nation or society. I could abide fighting against tyrants, despots, criminals and other types of evil men (and their underlings/followers/thugs), but I would not attack the innocent under any circumstances. I would hide my identity to the best of my ability so that no one might ever discover what goes on in my family. As for the Army knowing my identity... well, they'd have an awful lot of egg on their face if it came to light that their super-soldier was any kind of deviant, wouldn't they? They'd keep their mouths shut just as tightly as I would, to be sure. Nevertheless, society at large, across the entire planet, would see me as a hero and they would have certain expectations of me. In a sense it would be like a very delicate PR game and I knew, then, that the less time I spent in front of a news camera, the better off everyone would be.

My next bit of introspection brought me to the whole issue of time travel. NightShade was, or, rather, I would be capable of it. I didn't have a clue how it worked, but I had the distinct feeling that a lot more harm could be done with it than good. I decided that I would first attempt it after I'd gotten some serious training done with my other abilities. The less my superiors knew about it, the better off they and I would be. I guess I intuitively understood that being able to go back in time would require a hell of a lot more control and focus than any of the other abilities I'd develop. Learning how to control them would, in a way, help me to learn how to control it better. But I was getting ahead of myself at that point and I knew it. I had to relax, keep my head down and wait to see what would happen, how things would shake out. I still had no idea what The Procedure would entail, but my gut told me that it wasn't going to be fun.

By the time the molecular scan of my body was complete, I was mentally worn out and impatient for some new stimuli. I practically leapt out of that confining box as though my feet had been set aflame and, when the technician confirmed that the scan was complete, all I asked was if there was anything more expected of it. When he shook his head no and turned to leave me be, I got dressed quickly and went home.

Chapter Six : Mean Streets

That weekend I kept my word to Holly and we went to London. I'd been there, years ago, visit an old girlfriend of mine (who'd since moved away) and I was surprised to learn that a lot of things had changed since then. Stores that I remembered being in business had been replaced with something else entirely, streets looked better, buses were newer and everything looked cleaner. Sure, there was still the same kind of detritus that came from city life- trash, debris and chemical stains on the roads- but, for the most part, London had improved in the last 15 years. There were the same sights to see, though- Hyde Park, St. James Park, Picadilly Circus and London Bridge to name just a few. I gave Holly as thorough an education on the history of London and England in general and a good deal of it actually seemed interesting to her (Holly was a very smart young woman but never seemed to have much patience for learning history and culture). She fairly gaped at some of the more outlandish things found in Greenwich Village and SoHo, which amused me some, as I had seen so much in my life that hardly anything surprised me anymore, least of all a couple of young men dressed in feathers (and not much else), walking down the sidewalk and holding hands.

As we walked down the street, past the Cathedral of St. Martin's In-The-Fields and further past Trafalgar Square, we came to the opening of an alleyway. We'd almost walked past it until I heard the crying groan of an old man and the barking laughter of some mean-spirited antagonist. I stopped in mid-step and turned to peer down the alley. While the abilities that NightShade had given were indeed diminished, they were far from gone. I still had a bit of night-vision available to me, still a good deal of strength, could still fly for a few minutes at a time and I felt fairly certain that, should I be severely injured, I'd still heal from major wounds pretty quickly. Holly was with me and, even though she couldn't see as clearly as I could, she was able to figure out what was going on: a few rather mean-looking skin heads were harassing an old homeless man, not for money but for sport. Holly gripped my arm tightly in disgust.

"Should we do something?" she asked quietly.

I squared my shoulders and erected my spine, marshalling my energy and already preparing for the fight. "If I recall correctly, honey, there's a police precinct just down the block at the next major intersection. Go find a cop and bring him back here. Might be a good idea to suggest they call an ambulance, too."

"You don't have to get yourself hurt, Dad," she admonished. I could hear the concern and worry in her voice.

I glanced down at her and smiled wolfishly, her eyes widening at seeing this unprecedented side of me. "The ambulance won't be for me. It'll be for them," I said flatly. "Go on."

At first Holly hesitated but the look in my eyes, the fire behind them, must have conveyed something that told her I wasn't just being brave: those men would need an ambulance by the time I got done with them. She quickly took off running down the block, shouting for help as she did so, and I started to walk calmly down the alley.

"Hey!" I shouted at the skin heads as one of them planted a solid kick into the poor elderly man's stomach with a malicious laugh. "Isn't he a bit old for you? I mean, little boys in kindergarten would pick on little girls to show their attraction, right? So you beating the shit out of this guy... what will people think of you?"

The one who'd just planted his kick on the old man spun around to face me, a sneer on his face. He wore black jeans, sneakers and no shirt. To keep his pants up were a pair of suspenders. His bald pate shined oddly in the London lamplight that shined down from the side of a building. Tribal tattoos ran up and down his forearms and there was a great big tattoo of a cross on his chest, just above his heart, that was underscored by a swastika. Muscles bulged menacingly on his forearms and pecs and he rolled his neck lazily, popping his neck joints, like it was supposed to somehow intimidate me. He was the English analog of a neo-Nazi, probably part of the group calling themselves "Sharps."




A Twist of Destiny Bk. 02



Author's note: This is the conclusion to the "Twist of Destiny" story, Book Two. There have been a few changes to the story which I need to go over quickly, to avoid confusion:

Project: Odyssey is now called Project: SERAPH (Soldier Enhancement Research: Allied Powers Headquarters).

Book One has been edited and reworked completely (especially the London scenes)- I'll be reposting that at some point in the future.

This second part of the story is primarily adventure/sci-fi. There IS a good deal of sex in it, but the story is what takes the front seat here. The sex is merely part of the story. I sincerely hope that you enjoy it and I look forward to your comments, suggestions and feedback in the Comments section at the end. Please don't forget to vote and speak up!

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A Twist of Destiny: Book Two

Chapter Twenty-Two: Paradigm Shift

"A lot can happen in a year." People say this all the time and it's become a cliché, a phrase that is bandied about between observations about some of the crazy things that can happen in a short period of time. It's glib and obvious. But to people for whom a lot really does happen in a year, it seems practically banal.

That said, a lot can happen in a year. Allow me to summarize:

Team Alpha is now known as The Guardians. The name change came about as a matter of public opinion, which was championed by the media. Apparently "Team Alpha" wasn't catchy enough. Marvel at the "power of the people."

The Guardians, as a brand name, have generated over a billion dollars in marketing revenue for the U.S. Government, which holds the rights to our name and likenesses. The scary thing is that it's only been a year.

The Guardians included rescue and damage control into their retinue. Three earthquakes, five tornadoes, one flood (Levi earned his paycheck on that one!) and countless fires- all around the globe, not just in America.

Terrorism has become a fringe market that very few people have a taste for since the four of us have managed to capture most terrorist cell leaders.

Tank managed to get himself hurt pretty badly on a rescue mission in Tibet (earthquake), mostly due to stupidity and over-confidence. It took him a month to wake up from the coma.

After he recovered from his coma, Tank manifested a new power: he now has the ability to govern gravitational forces in a localized area. He can make things heavier or light as a feather at will. It's a great ability to have when facing off against an army or if you want to make buildings crumble in a few seconds. So far he's only broken a few bones with this new ability.

"Ownership" of The Guardians (if you can call it that) has become a contested matter of debate between the U.N. , NATO and the United States. For the time being we're still under the control of the United States and welcome in almost every country, but national leaders are openly voicing the opinion that, as "evolved" human beings, The Guardians have a duty to all of Humanity.

My masked face has been on the news in the last year more times than the President's- our identities are still a well-kept secret, thank God.

The origin of The Guardians is still unknown to the majority of the world.

And, in my personal life:

Holly and Kathy have grown considerably closer in the last year and we've all three enjoyed more trysts than I can count.

Holly has mastered her ability to perfection and can go back in time at will now. She's also figured out that if she goes back in time by just a few seconds, she can still go to any location she wants to. It took me a long time to explain how the time-space continuum works, seeing as how I only took physics in college when I was in my mid-twenties, but I'm fairly certain that she understands it now and respects just how tricky it can be if she isn't careful.

Darren, my step-son, was attacked by some bullies after school. He was beaten pretty severely and there was concern that he might not walk again. He can walk now and, for a short time, he could fly. He was so traumatized by the mere sampling of The Process, however, that he doesn't ever want to experience it again. That said, he's in fantastic physical condition now and exercises regularly. His attackers, by the way, each got a pretty nasty visit from yours truly. I didn't maim them but I definitely put the fear of God into their black little hearts.

Although he's still a minor at age sixteen, Darren has expressed an interest in bedding his mother when he comes of age. All of us can understand his position: he's very likely feeling left out and we can't blame him for that. Nothing concrete has been decided on the subject, since his eighteenth birthday is still two years away, but Kathy and I have given it a little discussion already. On the one hand, it's only fair. On the other, the circumstances that led to our change in lifestyle were significantly more complicated and unique. Kathy, much to her own surprise, isn't exactly opposed to the idea; she, like I had been with Holly, is deeply concerned about screwing his mind up more than it already has been by relying on him to keep what we do a secret.

Kathy gets regular "treatments" from me and continues to grow a victory garden in our back yard that is the envy of every housewife for thirty miles. She is also five months pregnant and loving it. We're pretty sure that it's a boy.

Yes, it's been a full and eventful year, to say the least. I'm doing something heroic at least once a day that makes the news and the rest of my teammates have grown so accustomed to each other that we hardly even have to talk when we're working. But we do get down-time. People have tried to sue us for not being there when they needed or wanted us, but each one was tossed out of court almost as quickly as the petitions were filed. We've got some enemies, but the majority of the people on planet Earth are thankful for us, which makes cutting through international political red tape a lot easier sometimes. India's Prime Minister was fired for keeping us out of the country immediately after an earthquake- it was a decision that cost thousands of lives needlessly and the rioting mob outside his residence convinced him to change his mind... but it was too late by then.

By and large, The Guardians have become a welcome and appreciated force of protectors, which suits all of us just fine. But all of those things were small beans compared to the major change that arose about eleven months after our official debut.

One day, an alien ship, a big one, parked itself in orbit above the United States and refused to respond to any sort of contact. It just sat there, silently surveying Earth, like a monolithic, dormant hulk. The media, of course, speculated wildly about its intentions and the major nations of Earth tried their best to not over-react, but since no one knew why it showed up, no one really knew how to respond to its presence.

Well, fact of the matter is, some people had a pretty good idea of why they showed up and The Guardians were stuck right in the middle of it.

"Welcome back to Project SERAPH," General Hannis, who now wore three stars on his epaulets, said. Just like in the "old" days, Doctor Lamb sat to his left while the four of us looked back at them from our seats at the table. We'd been called back to the place of our beginnings early that morning with no explanation, but since it had only been a few days since the alien ship's arrival, we all could guess.

"Thank you, sir. Something in my gut tells me that you wouldn't call us together like this unless it was important."

"You have no idea how much of an understatement that is, NightShade," he said hollowly.

"It's the alien ship," Tank said in his usual basso grumble. "Isn't it?"

General Hannis looked at Doctor Lamb. "Doctor?"

Doctor Lamb, who usually seemed the image of ease and calm, looked positively shaken, like she didn't want to be there. However, she nodded solemnly and took a long, deep breath. "As all of you know, your abilities came from a hybridization of your human DNA with alien DNA."

"Their alien DNA?" Aventine asked.

"We don't know. They haven't identified themselves yet. You've all heard about the crash in Roswell, New Mexico. It really did happen. That event was nothing more than... well, the equivalent of a car experiencing mechanical problems and crashing into a roadside berm- an accident, really. What happened at Roswell was just the first in a long string of meetings with alien life forms. Over the last six decades we, Humanity as a whole, have been visited by over twenty different extraterrestrial species as a result of it. Earth, it turns out, is almost in the center of a popular interstellar trade route."

"Let me guess," Leviathan cut in. "The Roswell aliens called for roadside assistance just before the crash, which brought even more aliens to our doorstep."

Doctor Lamb winced at the analogy but nodded. "More or less, yes. Earth, for centuries, has been considered off-limits to other intelligent species because we, Humanity, aren't very advanced, comparatively speaking. There was even a space buoy in place to warn people away from us. The accidental crash landing at Roswell, however, was cause for a need to update the information about us. We've been classified as something akin to the Native Americans- minimally civilized with the potential for growth- as a whole, mind you. There have been some individuals who would easily be considered very civilized by most other sentient species. That got the attention of a lot of different races and we became a sort of... prize for any number of interstellar trade groups and cultures. Some have clear intentions of enslavement. Others want to protect us from advancing too quickly. Still others want to help us advance more quickly- and all of them have their own reasons for their different agendas."

"And some of them shared their DNA with us, to give us an idea of what we might become over time," Tank finished thoughtfully.

Again, Doctor Lamb seemed to wince. "Tank is essentially correct. The irony is that the DNA that was given to us was from a particularly powerful federation of cultures who would rather we just be left alone to evolve on our own. They didn't expect anything like Project SERAPH to arise. Frankly, no one did, not even me. I started the project simply to study the properties of alien genetic structures. Our own advancements in genetics, coupled with the few meager discoveries I'd made on my own, led me down the path that we're all on now."

"And someone's pissed," Leviathan said.

Doctor Lamb was quiet long enough to Aventine to offer her own insight. "No," she said as she studied the doctor's facial features. "No one's pissed, Tommy. They're worried that we might have bitten off more than we can chew. The Guardians shouldn't exist."

That hit Doctor Lamb like it had been a right cross and I felt it from across the room. "The problem," the doctor began slowly, "is not necessarily with you, per se."

I narrowed my eyes as I focused my senses on her. "It's the project failures that have them concerned," I supplied. Doctor Lamb opened her mouth to answer, but slowly closed it and nodded. The others looked at and waited for me to continue. "I sensed her feelings of failure and regret," I explained. "Those feelings were particularly associated with her thoughts and feelings on the subject of these... concerned aliens. She feels personally responsible for putting us in danger."

"I don't get it," Aventine said as she leaned forward. "We aren't in danger... or are we?"

General Hannis then stepped back into the conversation. "His talent, to put it in simple terms, is luck. Anything that might happen in his favor is bound to happen. He alters the laws of probability." He tapped a button on the table in front of him and a picture of a man who looked like he was in his mid-thirties came up on the screen. "His name is Sergeant Jack Hanson, Army. After The Process, he exhibited signs of extreme schizophrenia which bordered on psychosis. His ability didn't really manifest until just a few days before we put him in cryo-stasis in May of 2009. His current mental state is a complete unknown."

"Let me get this straight," Tank said with unmasked confusion. "This guy, Hanson, is a threat because he's lucky? What's he gonna do... take over Vegas?"

"Mind the sarcasm, Damien," I said to Tank and then looked at Doctor Lamb, who seemed even more abashed. "How did he escape?" I asked the general."And when?"

"He escaped about a month ago, shortly after our... visitors arrived. There was a power fluctuation in his stasis unit, something we didn't catch right away because the power surge confused some of the monitoring circuits. When the power dipped, the stasis unit's backup computer thought that it was being powered down on purpose, so it initiated the revival subroutines. But the monitoring sensors, which had archived data to guide it, somehow didn't agree with the computer and decided to echo past data as a sort of baseline. We didn't realize that he'd left the facility until almost two days after he'd been fully reanimated."

I scowled at that. "But how in the hell did he get out of here? There's got to be almost a half-dozen levels of security for him to get past!"

General Hannis shook his head. "Like I said, son, Hanson's ability is luck. On the particular day this happened, everything that could've gone wrong did. No one specific person is responsible for his escape- at each and every level of security there were glitches, distractions or general mix-ups that all conspired to work in his favor. We actually have video footage of him walking out the front door, looking a little bewildered but generally normal. He even held the door open for someone on his way out."

"Could he have had some outside help?" Aventine asked.

"It's difficult to tell, but if he did have help, they would have to have been extremely well-connected and equipped with some pretty advanced technology. And there's no indication that Sergeant Hanson ever had those kinds of contacts before we recruited him into the project. But between you and me, I don't think he could've gotten out of this facility without help."

I didn't see that line of questioning leading us anywhere, so I changed tack. "So why now?" I asked. "Why not six months or a year ago?"

Silence answered me, but I could see the look of frustration in General Hannis' eyes and the look of doubt and worry in Doctor Lamb's. I didn't need to be empathic to decipher their obvious emotions and I didn't need to be a telepath to figure out what the answer to my question was: the aliens who were currently in orbit had somehow awoken him.

"Is he the only one?" I asked pointedly. "Is he the only one they woke up?"

"Yes," Doctor Lamb answered. "They were curious as to why we'd even put them to sleep in the first place, so they picked one at random to see what we'd do in response. It's a test."

"So, naturally and given his ability, it was just dumb blind luck that they picked him," I said. "What's his psychological profile like? Is he dangerous?"

"Dangerous? No," General Hannis answered. "But Hanson isn't exactly the paragon of ethical behavior, either. Tank jokingly asked if he was going to take over Las Vegas earlier. And, as a matter of fact, that's precisely where we believe he's headed, like a moth headed towards a flame. He made a stop at The Riviera in France for a few days, made a small fortune in the underground games and then found passage back to the states under a false ID. We lost his trail in California."

"So we go to Vegas, find him and bring him back in," Leviathan said. "Simple."

I shook my head at that. "No, Tommy. It's not so simple. First of all, the four of us are known the world over- we wouldn't be able to look for him without everyone recognizing us and possibly tipping him off. And if we went incognito, Tank would have to say behind because his size would give him away. Secondly, if Hanson feels that we're a threat to him, we might have a hell of a time getting him under control. Anything we throw at him might be prone to flukes, no matter how improbable. And even if we do manage to talk to him face to face, there's no guarantee that he'll go willingly. There is absolutely nothing simple about this at all."

"I guess, on the plus side, he probably isn't schizoid anymore," Tank said. "I mean, if he could function well enough to gamble his way through The Riviera, he's probably all right."

"It's too difficult to tell right now," I said. "For all we know, he's fallen completely into a self-constructed world of delusion. And just because a person suffering from schizophrenia can manage to function in society, that doesn't mean he's stable."

"David is correct on that point," Doctor Lamb said. "Stability in schizophrenics is hard to determine. Many can cope with scenarios that conflict with their perceived realities for prolonged periods of time while others succumb to stress quickly. There is no definite period of time between lucidity and a psychotic break."

"The only way to know for sure is to track him down and watch him for a little while. See what he does," I said.

Aventine looked at me through narrowed eyes. "You're coming up with a plan already, aren't you?"

I winced slightly. "It's not a plan, as such. Just a few ideas. If we can determine his mental state then we can figure out how to respond accordingly. I think the best method is to draw him out and bring him in without drawing attention to him. If we can somehow convince him to come with us willingly we'll save ourselves a lot of headache. Something in my gut tells me that a direct confrontation would end in disaster."

"How do you intend to draw him out?" General Hannis asked.

I shrugged. "I'm not sure. Again, his mental state would dictate the details, but the general story would be to convince him that he's being offered a chance to join the team. The doctor can correct me if I'm wrong here, but I'm pretty sure that schizophrenics tend to have very healthy egos. If we can come up with a scenario that is enticing enough for him, he might come in peaceful as a lamb."

"I don't get it," Tank muttered. "If we can find him, why don't you just 'port in and 'port back with him?"

I pointed to the ceiling. "We're being watched," I answered. "That's why. I'm running under the supposition that they set him loose. I have a good hunch that they know exactly where he is and they're watching us very carefully. This is a test of our morality, ethics and adaptability. And the judge's panel is peopled by an advanced species. If we can bring him in without incident then they might leave us alone. But if we fall back to type and kill the proverbial fly with a sledgehammer, we might have a completely different set of problems on our hands."

General Hannis nodded approvingly. "That is precisely what we determined, David. The higher-ups want you to avoid using force with Hanson at any cost."

"One thing you have over him is experience and knowledge," Doctor Lamb said. "In the last year we have all learned a great deal about your abilities, how they work and why they work. Mr. Hanson, however, had not. To use one of your colorful American phrases, he is severely behind the learning curve. I'd suggest you use that to your advantage."




A Twist of Destiny Bk. 02



I thoughtfully nodded as the wheels within my mind started to spin. "He doesn't know that his brain, more than anything, has been enhanced and that his abilities are instinctual more than they are a matter of will. That he isn't going around knocking over banks and committing robberies tells us that he isn't criminally-minded, even if he's not entirely ethical. Maybe we can use that angle to try and recruit him onto the team."

"But what if he doesn't want to join us?" Leviathan asked pointedly. "I mean, it's all well and good in theory, but the man still has free will and if he doesn't want to go, what then?"

"Then force is our only alternative," Aventine said gloomily.

"Not necessarily," I said with a stroke of my chin. "What if... what if we draw him in without directly trying to?" Everyone's eyebrows knitted in confusion at that, which made me smile just a little bit. "What if we... one of us goes rogue?" That definitely got their attention.

"Why in the hell would any one of us do that?" Tank boomed.

"Think about it," I said calmly. "One of us decides to break off from the team and do his- or her- own thing, going solo. Eventually he goes off to Vegas, where all the crooks go to turn a buck. He thinks it's easy pickings and, yeah, it is easy pickings, but he doesn't always play by the same rules as before. So the rest of the team steps in and tries to stop him. The problem is we've worked together as a team for so long that it's impossible for three to beat one because he can anticipate everyone's moves. So the other three then get on the news and implore the populace for assistance, maybe a fat reward. Put emphasis on needing someone who can help change our luck. Kinda like when the lead guitarist of a band retires and the band starts doing auditions to find a replacement."

"I like it," Leviathan said with a smile. "But we're gonna end up with a shitload of auditions."

General Hannis shook his head. "This whole thing could be a logistical nightmare. And which one of you is going to be the one who goes rogue? All four of you are heroes in the eyes of the world."

"How 'bout me?" Tank offered. "I mean, I've already been put on the sidelines once for an injury. Maybe the time out of action cost a little more than expected and I decide to empty the pockets of criminals I catch?"

"No one would buy that, Tank," the general said with a shake of his head. "You were a ward of the government while you were in that coma- everything was taken care of and your recovery was pretty public."

"I could do it," Leviathan put in. We all looked at him dubiously. "What? I can't be the bad boy all of the sudden? I mean, look at me; I've got, like, an ego the size of Texas! I can play on that."

Aventine shook her head and acted as though Leviathan hadn't said anything at all. "Well, it can't be me. Everyone knows that I avoid lethal force whenever necessary. The idea of me going rogue is as alien as... well, those guys," she pointed upward for emphasis. "Plus, I've got a young daughter. I'd hate to have to explain to her, in a few years, why Mommy was a bad guy for a short while."

Everyone looked at me expectantly.

"It looks like that leaves you, buddy," Tank rumbled. "And it makes sense. Of the four of us, you're the most powerful. If you really did go rogue, I doubt that we could really stop you and everyone on the planet knows it."

"It's never been about who's got the most powers, Damien," I said with resignation. "I do what I do because it needs to be done. The abilities I manifested were just a roll of the dice."

"Well you definitely won the toss," Leviathan said. "I sure as hell wouldn't want to take you on by myself."

Aventine put her two cents in. "I can fill in as leader while you're gone, David, but the guys are right: you're the most logical choice."

I sighed deeply. "Well, I guess that's what I get for putting the idea out there in the first place. Okay. I'll be the one. I'll make a media announcement in a few days, citing my reasons for leaving the team and going solo. The Army can then make their own press release saying something about me not necessarily being considered an enemy but I'll be watched closely and it's hoped that I'll come back to the fold before I do anything that can't be forgiven. Maybe classify me as being AWOL. It'll go almost without saying that I'd be considered a vigilante." I looked squarely at the general. "Or something like that."

General Hannis fixed me with a long, steady gaze for several quiet seconds. Finally, he said, "If you wanted a vacation, David, you could've just asked."

I chuckled at the general's gallows humor and smiled. "True, sir, but then... what would be the fun in that?" I looked at the others. "All right. So that's the plan. In a day or two I'll break from the team and go underground for a bit. Next time I hit the spotlight, I'll pretty much do what I've always done, just not with the government's sanction, which will technically make me a vigilante. You guys set up a major Op, let me know about it in advance, and I'll horn in on the action in a public way- nudge you out of the glory or something like that. Anyway, point is, it'll piss you guys off and we'll have a skirmish- no one gets hurt, of course, but it'll be showy. Sorry, sir, but it'll probably involve some collateral damage."

He winced. "Millions?"

"Probably. Four supers going at it and trying to put on a good show of it being a real fight? It won't be cheap, sir. But the same rule applies: no civilians caught in the crossfire." I gave the rest of the teammates a significant look which all of them understood. "For the most part I'll be incommunicado until we bring Hanson in. Some of the things I do will probably seem a little strange, but I'll always hold to my Number One Rule: civilians are sacred. That said, it probably wouldn't hurt to hint that, with my empathic abilities, some civilians with less-than-noble intentions might want to steer clear of me, now that I've gone off the reservation until God-knows-when."

Aventine wore a peculiar expression, one that I couldn't identify at first until I realized it was suspicion. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"

I shrugged. "Maybe a little, yeah. Wouldn't you?"

"I sure as hell would," Leviathan said sourly. "Seriously. I could pull it off, guys. I've been known to be bad from time to time."

Aventine rolled her eyes and was about to retort but Tank beat her to the punch. "Not calling a chick back after the first date doesn't qualify," he grumbled.

"And neither does spiking the punch at the high school dance," Aventine put in.

"That it was my foster dad's liquor ought to count for something," Leviathan said defensively. None of us responded, so he sulked back into his chair. "Party-poopers."

Chapter Twenty-Three: Fortunes

When I got back home that night I was surprised to see that Holly was there waiting for me and looking very much awake. In recent months she would welcome me home but exhausted from day-long trysts with her mother, which didn't bother me per se but it sometimes meant that she'd need a nap before having sex with me. I was not surprised, however, to find her wearing nothing but a smile when she saw me.

"Right on time," she said playfully as she walked towards me seductively.

I smiled back at her with a quizzical expression on my face as I willed my clothing away- when in Rome and all that jazz, you know. As I took her into a warm hug, I said, "I wasn't aware that I was following a set schedule."

She craned her face up to look at me. "Oh, but you were. To a woman who can bounce around in Time, schedules become a very important thing. For me timing really is everything."

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "Indeed? So... how, pray tell, did you know that I was going to be here at this exact moment?"

"Because I told her you would be," she replied from down the hallway, out of my field of view. I looked up from the warm, sexy bundle of daughter-like flesh in my arms to see a duplicate of her, also just as naked, leaning against the entrance to the hallway. "Surprise," she said coolly to my alarmed expression.

I immediately let go of the young woman in my arms and looked very carefully at the pair of them as the second Holly approached. When they stood side-by-side, I could only just barely tell them apart- the Holly that had come from the hallway had slightly shorter hair. "Is... everything okay?" I asked with growing concern.

Holly2 smiled sweetly at me. "Everything's fine, Dad. I just came back to give some information to Holly here and to ask a favor from you." She glanced at her present-time counterpart. "You know, it is a little bit like watching a rerun of a TV show. Somehow you remember each and every line. Very weird."

"So, uhm, what information did you bring back for us?" I asked cautiously. We'd already discussed the problems that could arise if the wrong kind of information came from the future and Holly had promised never to sand-bag us with anything we shouldn't know about.

"Oh, nothing much," Holly2 said casually. "Just some lottery numbers."

Holly added, "The jackpot is up to a hundred and sixty million dollars, Dad. I've already bounced back to Mom and she's probably gotten the ticket by now. I went back four hours, just to be safe. I'd say that, in about thirty minutes, we'll be millionaires."

My eyes widened and I had to lean against the back of the sofa as I took the news in. We'd discussed doing something like this, but I never believed we'd actually do it. "Wow. That's... wow," I quietly said as I tried to wrap my brain around the fact that, in very short order, my family would be filthy rich. Then I glanced up at Holly2. "How far ahead are you?"

"Less than six months," she replied cryptically. "It's been pretty busy lately but things have finally calmed down now. Well, mostly."

"Busy?"

"Tsk-tsk, Daddy. You know the rules," Holly2 sing-songed.

I shook my head as though to shake loose some cobwebs from my mind. "You're right. Sorry. I was just... one-hundred and sixty million? Really?"

Holly2 laughed lightly while Holly smirked. "Trust me, Dad, you'll get used to it pretty quickly. And, with the little vacation from work that you're about to take, it'll definitely come in handy."

I took a deep, thoughtful breath and focused my mind. At first I wanted to ask how she knew about the decisions we'd made back at Project SERAPH. But I quickly realized that, having come from the future, it made sense that she already knew about it. I also assumed, at that point, that she'd already told Holly what to expect. "I guess I'll have to trust you on that. Okay. So... you said you needed a favor from me, too, right? What is it?"

Holly2 glanced at Holly. "He's so business-like sometimes, isn't he?"

"Well, it's the Army in him: the mission always comes first," Holly replied to her future self.

"You know, he's eventually gonna have to relax."

"Yeah. Hey! I think I know of a perfect way to help him relax!"

Holly2 smiled wolfishly as they both started to walk towards me like they were hunters about to overtake some helpless prey. "Sister, great minds think alike."

"Well, since we have the same mind, it should be twice as easy for us."

"You still haven't answered my question," I noted as they got closer, both of them fixing me with identical sultry gazes. Their behavior was definitely having an effect on me- even against my will, my cock had started to grow angry and insistent. It wasn't in the mood to pass up a chance at fucking my daughter twice over.

Holly2 reached me first and sexily traced a single fingertip down my chest until it found my growing erection. "Oh, it's really simple, Dad," she said throatily. "Actually, it probably can't even be counted as a favor, really, since it's something you'll have no problem doing for me."

"And what is that?" I choked out as Holly came to her "sister's" side, got up on her toes and started to lick and kiss just below my earlobe.

"We want you to knock me up," my present-time daughter said in my ear.

"Very simple, really," Holly2 said. "I'm ovulating right now. We all three have a little sexy fun and, to cap the evening, I end up with a little bun in my oven. I go back to my present time, wait for nine months and, surprise, you're a Daddy again!"

"And a grandfather," Holly added.

"Does your mother know about this?" I asked them. "Either of them?"

Both of my daughters scoffed at me. "Are you kidding?" Holly2 asked rhetorically. "She told me to come do this! And Holly here already told her mom about it. As a matter of fact, remember that video recorder you made for me on our first bounce back?" Suddenly a small orb about the size of a large marble appeared just a few feet away from us. I recognized it immediately. "Guess who's watching?"

"Seriously?" I asked with surprise as I felt a hand from each sexy minx start to paw at my hardened cock.

"Of course!" Holly answered sultrily. "A momentous occasion like this has to be recorded for posterity! And Mom wasn't about to miss out on a show like this if her life depended on it."

"So what do you say, Daddy?" Holly2 asked as she started to kneel in front of me.

"Want to knock your little girl up?" Holly added.

"Plant a baby in my hot, cum-hungry womb?" Holly2 finished as her lips fastened on to the tip of my throbbing penis.

I couldn't resist that even if I'd wanted to- and I most certainly didn't. Holly slowly kissed down the front of my chest, down to my stomach and further downwards until she joined her future self in pleasuring my tumescent cock while my wife watched on from half a world away. I luxuriated in the sensations of two relatively identical sets of lips kissing, sucking and pleasing my manhood for an immeasurable amount of time. My fingers found their ways into the locks of my "twin" daughters' hair as they sucked me in unison until Holly2 looked up at me with fire in her eyes.

She wordlessly relinquished control of my throbbing tool to her younger self and leaned back, keeping her eyes on mine, while she slowly turned around and got on her hands and knees. In seconds she leaned forward, her beautiful, teenage breasts pressing into the floor, and kept her eyes locked onto mine while she started to finger herself and spread the lips of her tiny pussy wide.

"Right here, Daddy," she said throatily. "Right here is where I want your potent sperm. I want you to put your big, fat cock right inside my tight, little pussy and I want you to fuck me, Daddy. I want you to fuck me so hard and so fast until you come inside me. You see how my pussy is all shaven and clean? It's for you, Daddy. I want you to worship the temple of my cute cunt with your baby-making seed. I want it all. All of it, right here. I've already seen him, Daddy. Our son. And I've fucked him, too. My future self brought him to me when he turned eighteen, as his birthday present. He's already fucked me, Daddy, but now it's your turn. It's your turn to put our son inside of me. Are you ready? Are you ready to put your thick, hard cock inside your only daughter's hot, little pussy and plant a baby inside of her? Are you?"

"Fuck yes, I am!" I growled even as Holly pulled her glossy lips off the end of my penis and started to stroke me furiously.

"I want to see you impregnate me, Daddy," Holly told me as she released her hold on my rock-hard cock and slipped underneath her older self. "And I want a front-row seat. I want to see my father's cock as it shoots his virile sperm right inside my womb!" As her older self shifted slightly to allow her access in a sixty-nine position, my present-time daughter looked up at me from the floor, between her doppelganger's legs, and beckoned with one hand while the other slinked up to Holly2's wet, pink folds. "Come here, Father. Let me put it inside."

I moved as though I was in a trance, and perhaps I was in a way. As I began to move, I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, the surveillance sphere shifted so that it could get a better view of the action from between my legs, right above Holly's forehead. Suddenly, however, it disappeared from view, its cloak now enabled to make it less of a distraction. I slowly knelt down between my future-daughter's spread thighs while she knelt on all fours and waited for me. Holly, looking up from underneath her future self's inner thighs, gripped the shaft of my throbbing penis tightly and aimed it at the pink chalice which awaited my invasion. Holly reached around with the palm of her other hand and applied pressure to encourage me to move forward. I inched forward just enough so that Holly could slot the head of my swollen cock into her counterpart's damp pussy and then I stopped.

"Wait a second," I said, causing both girls to sigh in exasperation. "Why me? Why now?"

Holly2 looked back at me over her shoulder. The expression on her face was vexatious. "Are you fucking kidding?! You're asking this now, of all times?"

"I'm serious, Holly," I answered. "Why are you coming to this version of me instead of my future self?"

Holly2 hung her head low in frustration for a moment, probably so that she could fight the urge to try and strangle me. Then she looked back at me. "If you must know, he's... well, let's just say that he's busy right now and will be for the indefinite future. The good news is that he's not out of touch and he's very aware of this because he remembers it. "

"So everyone is safe?"

"Yes. Perfectly."

"And I'm just working a lot?"

"....more or less, yes."

"And that's why you're here now, because I can't be there then?"

Holly2 looked down between her legs, through the space between her breasts, at her younger self. "I honestly don't remember him being this stupid."

"He has his moments, you know," Holly quipped.

Upon hearing that, I pushed myself completely inside Holly2, which made her yelp with surprise. "Sorry. Stupid me. I forgot to warn you, didn't I?" I kept myself very still so that she could take a moment to adjust to my sudden invasion- I'm not a total sadist, after all.

Holly2 breathed deeply and slowly for a few seconds before she replied. "You're punishing me, aren't you?"

"Not at all," I answered as I started to slowly move just a few inches of my long shaft in and out of her tight pussy. "If I was punishing you, I'd do something like this." I slapped one of her ass cheeks loudly. The swat wasn't anywhere close to my normal strength, the equivalent of a feather-light touch on my part, but it made her yelp again with surprise. "That didn't hurt, did it?" I asked teasingly.

Holly2 shuddered slightly as her pussy muscles responded to the light smack on her ass, but she nodded. "A bit, yeah. I guess I deserved that, though. Sorry for calling you stupid."

"Indeed," I said as I started to slowly pick up the pace of my thrusts. "When asking your father to impregnate you, it is pretty bad form to call him stupid just as he's putting his cock inside you."

"It's also bad manners!" Holly added from underneath. While I was fucking her future self, she'd seen fit to caress my thighs with one hand while gently fondling my testicles with the other. It felt good and not at all distracting.

"Quiet, you," I said to Holly. "You encouraged her."

"I did not! I-" Before she could continue with her rebuttal, I yanked my cock out of Holly2 and deftly slipped it past the lips of Holly's mouth, which silenced her.

"Less talk, more stimulation, little girl. For opening your big mouth and agreeing with her, I've decided that your punishment should be some productive silence."




A Twist of Destiny Bk. 02



Holly2 rolled her hips in frustration. "Dammit, Daddy, stop fucking around and start fucking me! I didn't come all this way just to get teased!"

I unceremoniously pulled my cock out of Holly's mouth and then reinserted it back into Holly2's cock-hungry pussy- much more lovingly this time. "Very well," I said. "But after hearing the two of you chit-chat, I've come to the conclusion that neither of you will stay focused on the task at hand. So! New rule: until I'm done cumming, neither of you are to say a word unless directly spoken to. Moan and groan all you like, but shut up. Making babies is hard work and requires concentration. If you don't shut up, I might accidentally slip out at a critical moment or suddenly find myself back Home and giving it to your mother instead of you."

"She'd probably like that," Holly opined.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't!" Holly2 growled. "Okay, Dad! We'll shut up. Just don't stop fucking me, for heaven's sake, and don't forget to make yourself potent again!"

I again playfully swatted at her ass cheeks, gently this time, and said, "Of course I'm potent again, sweetheart. What do you think I am? Stupid?" There was no vocal reply except a pair of stifled giggles.

With that matter settled, I set myself to the task of having sex with my daughter's future self. I reached down with both hands to hold her hips steady as my thick cock methodically sank in and out of her depths for long moments which were interrupted only by Holly2's heavy breathing and Holly's occasional moans of pleasure (Holly2 had elected to lick Holly's pussy while I fucked her from behind). It was quite a sight, I must say, to bear witness. Holly writhed for endless moments while the future version of her licked, sucked and plied her pussy with wet, delicate fingers. I heard several soft gasps of orgiastic pleasure escape the lips of my daughter, which only spurred me on further.

Holly, for her part, wasn't completely idle, however. Between the waves of pleasure she experienced, she frequently tilted her head up so that she could return the favor and lick at the place where Holly2 and I were so sinfully joined. I felt her raspy tongue glide across the underside of my shaft when it was exposed and, from the sighs of pleasure that came from Holly2, she seemed to equally divide her attention to the clit that was above her.

"Does that feel good, baby?" I asked, not really caring which Holly thought I was talking to her. "Does she lick your pussy well?"

Both girls gasped out simultaneously and hissed out, "Yessss!" It was immediately followed by another short bit of light laughter.

"I feel myself getting close, girls," I told them. "I've told my balls to produce as much sperm as they could so that, when I cum, my naughty, sexy little daughter will most assuredly get pregnant. Do you want that, Babygirl?" I asked Holly2 as I increased the force of my thrusts.

"Yes, Daddy!" Holly2 whined. "Oh, please cum inside me! I want to feel it! I want to feel you make a baby, our baby, inside of me! Cum for me, Father!"

"I don't know," I said teasingly as I pulled my cock completely out of Holly2's hot cunt lips. "It's been awhile since I fucked my present daughter. A few days at least. Maybe I should sterilize myself real quick and put my cum inside of her instead?"

"You wouldn't da-!" Holly began to protest but was quickly silenced as I shoved the head of my penis into her mouth. Almost instinctively, she swirled her tongue around the crown of my cock and sucked hard on the tip. Holly2, meanwhile, mewled in sexual agony at being left empty so abruptly.

I pulled my hips back, withdrawing my cock from Holly's mouth with a wet pop, and waited for her to aim it back into Holly2's waiting hole. "On second thought, I have desperately wanted to breed my little girl for a long while now..." I said as my thickness once again filled her tight channel. On the in-strokes I could feel the tip of my penis stab at her cervix, but I still hadn't breached it yet. I was saving that part for when I actually did cum.

"I know you have, Dad," Holly said from below us as her hands began to lovingly caress my thighs and buttocks. "And now's your chance. I love watching you fuck from this angle! I can see everything from down here. It's so sexy to see my father's long, thick cock make a pussy bulge! And, when you cum, it's so sexy to see your balls clench as they spew out your seed. Only, now, it's going to be the real thing, isn't it, Dad? You're about to put your sperm inside of me and I get to watch it! Oh, shit, Holly, that feels good! Keep licking my pussy while our father gets ready to plant his seed inside of you! Yes! Oh, fuck, yes!"

Holly2's ministrations on Holly's succulent pussy became more intense as I continued to pummel her rippling mound with my hard shaft. Her body shook and shuddered with the onslaught of my efforts, but she never faltered even for a second. It was like her mouth was glued to Holly's genitals and they wouldn't come off until we'd all gotten the satisfaction we so desperately needed and wanted.

Hearing Holly encouraging me to cum inside of Holly2 nearly sent me over the edge, but when Holly2's tight pussy walls suddenly clamped down on my shaft, I felt myself on the edge of losing all self control. I pushed deep into that damp tightness, felt the tip of my penis kiss the entrance to her cervix, and applied steady pressure.

The effect on Holly2 was immediate and she started to cum even harder. "YES!" she cried out. "Oh, yes, Daddy! I feel it! You're about to cum! Do it, Daddy! Fuck your baby into me! Make me pregnant with our son!"

Even as I felt the tip of my throbbing monster finally slip past the barrier of Holly2's cervix, I gasped out, "Did our boy fuck you like this?"

Holly2 craned her neck around to look at me. Her eyes were wild and filled with passion. "Yes!" she answered. "AH, FUCK YES! And you know what, Daddy? He's every bit as good as you! Now do it! Give our son life and fucking cum!"

"I'm cumming!" I shouted as I pressed myself as deeply into Holly2's body as I could, pushing my groin flush against the soft swells of her ass, and felt my cock throb powerfully one last time. I clenched my teeth, felt my muscles tighten and, as though I'd been hit by a tidal wave, my orgasm was upon me and I was helpless to stop it. Coherent thought ceased entirely as my testicles heaved and seized like mighty pistons, churning out my pent-up sperm in long, steady bursts. The sheer volume of cum that I produced in that moment of time I cannot imagine, but it seemed never-ending as the cannon between my legs bucked and belched out more and more greasy salvoes of sperm-laden seed. My body shook with the potency of my orgasm and it took almost every last ounce of self control to not grip my daughter's quivering hips too tight.

Holly2 screamed out her own orgasm as my seed flooded her deep chamber and thrashed her hair about wildly. Her fists pounded on the floor of our apartment while the rest of her body shook violently in synchronicity with my climax. We shared that moment as no one else could on the face of the Earth. Our orgasm, that fully mutual event which signified the bonding of flesh and the creation of life, was every bit as awesome as watching a star go supernova.

Holly, poor neglected Holly, watched from below in awe. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind I registered the fact that she kept reverently saying "Oh my God" over and over while my cock poured out its virile payload into Holly2's fertile body. Soon, however, she stopped using her mouth to talk and employed it towards drinking the torrent of excess sperm that was being forced out of Holly2's well-fucked cunt. At some point, though, she found the task to be a futile one and simply lost herself in the throes of a sympathetic orgasm of her own, drowning in the abyss of expectation and knowledge that, some day in her personal future, she would be on the receiving end of my orgasmic onslaught.

Finally my peter petered out and I slumped back in exhaustion. As my body fell away from Holly2, the entrance to her most sacred of places became unplugged and even more of my warm, white fluid flowed from her body and into Holly's waiting mouth. My daughter drank down the concoction with relish and seemed eager to get as much as she could down her greedy gullet. Holly2, however, rolled off her younger counterpart onto her back and raised her hips high into the air so that what remained of my sperm could perform its intended purpose. She clasped the swollen lips beneath her distended mound and whispered, "Take root, baby. Take root!"

Holly, meanwhile, contented herself for a few moments with licking cum from her fingers and from around her mouth, scooping up whatever she could that had spilled out onto her neck, chin and breasts. Soon she had collected all that she was able and laboriously roused herself up until she was hovering over Holly2. No words were spoken, but Holly's intent was clear: Holly2 opened her mouth and, within seconds, a steady stream of thick, viscous fluid- my cum, mixed with Holly's saliva- flowed out past Holly's lips down into Holly2's waiting mouth. With that part of the ritual complete, Holly leaned down to passionately and lovingly kiss her future-twin.

When their lips parted, my daughter gently, reverently stroked Holly2's soft, glowing skin with careful caresses until her hand stopped over Holly2's cum-filled tummy. With her palm resting gently there, she kissed her "sister" again and said, "Thank you." A few seconds later she lay down next to Holly2 and visibly relaxed.

We all three rested where we lay for a few quiet moments until I broke the silence. "So... you actually met him? Our son?"

"Adam," Holly2 replied casually. "I know, I know. I shouldn't be telling you this, but screw the rules. You would not believe some of the stuff I've got floating around in my head by now. I've been visited by so many incarnations of myself that it's impossible to keep track of it all."

"And you really had sex with him?"

Holly2 laughed lightly at that question. "Dad, he really is every bit the lover that you are. Yes, I had sex with him. He's cum inside me, like, three times already. There's a future version of myself who is already pregnant with his baby."

I sucked air in between my teeth when I heard that. "Sweetheart, that's an awful lot of inbreeding. It can cause problems that you can't even imagine."

Holly2 leaned up on her elbows to face me. "It is an awful lot of inbreeding, Dad. And it's all intentional. Believe me, we know what we're doing, okay?"

I gave her a stern, reproachful look. "Evolution is a very dicey thing, Holly. It's unpredictable. There's no way to tell how it'll turn out."

Holly2 smiled at me sweetly. "Isn't there?" She said nothing more and left me hanging for a few moments so that I could chew on those two simple words. With a woman who can travel through time, I suppose that the very idea of random chance kind of went out the window.

Holly2 looked at Holly and said, "I really hate to conceive and leave, but I really do have to get back. Take care of him, please him and be patient, okay?"

"I got it," Holly said confidently. From their body language I could tell that they had already discussed a hell of a lot more than making babies before I got home. Part of me desperately wanted to pry and ask questions, but the more rational part of me took it for granted that, as a time-traveler, Holly would be prone to keeping a lot more secrets than any human could imagine as her own timeline went on.

A second later, Holly2 simply vanished from the room. The only evidence of her having been there at all was a small puddle of semen and pussy juice that had formed while she'd recovered from our sexual congress. Almost as promptly, the phone rang. It was Kathy calling us from the States.

I picked up the phone with a smile on my face and Holly repositioned herself so that she could cuddle up in my arms. "Hello, my love," I said into the phone.

"That was fucking incredible!" my pregnant wife said enthusiastically. "Seriously! I couldn't stop cumming just from watching the three of you! Our poor baby's probably wondering just what the fuck is wrong with me right now." There was a pause, which was followed by, "Holy shit, did I cum!"

I chuckled lightly and Holly, who could hear her mother's voice clearly, giggled. "I'm sorry you weren't able to be here and join us," I told her. "So... I've got some good news."

"So do I, actually," Kathy said brightly. "Wanna come home for a short visit? No sex. I promise. We just need to talk about stuff."

Holly sat up, kissed me on the lips and said, "Go ahead and go, Dad. I'll clean up here while you're gone. Besides, I already know what's going on anyway. Hi, Mom!"

"Hi, honey! Girl talk later, okay?" Kathy said loudly enough to be heard. "So? How 'bout it, stud?"

I laughed again and got to my feet. "I'll be right there, my love."



Chapter Twenty-Four: Home

"I swear to God, honey," Kathy said as she hugged me in warm greeting when I 'ported home, "I never thought I'd see anything hotter than the video of you knocking me up with Holly, but what I just saw tonight beats anything in my wildest dreams!"

"I'm glad you liked it." I kissed her happily and gently patted her swollen abdomen. "How's the baby doing?"

Kathy scowled and regarded her stomach. "He's being a nuisance! If he keeps moving like he has been all day I'm gonna do a belly-flop in a pool to get the little bastard back!" As though in reply, we watched a tiny bulge form from within her womb. "See?"

I soothingly caressed her tummy in sympathy and nodded. "He's probably just gotten worked up by all of your excitement lately. It's been a big day, hasn't it?" My eyes met hers with a bright, questioning gleam.

Her face broke into a huge grin that was nothing short of glorious to behold. A pregnant woman is a lovely thing to see, but a pregnant woman who's genuinely happy is a rare vision. "We're rich!" she said in an excited whisper. "They just announced the numbers a little while ago!"

Her excitement was infectious and I couldn't help but smile back at her. "And the hits just keep on comin'!" I said. "I've got a curious little story to tell you, too." I quickly told her about the situation with The Guardians and how I was soon going to become a solo act for a short while.

"Well that's perfect!" Kathy said with glee. "You can pick and choose your battles now and take off as much time as you want while we get started on building our dream house!"

My grin grew wider. "I can do better than that, actually," I said with a casual air. "All we need to do is buy the lot of land we want and I can make our house in no time." I wiggled my fingers in the air for effect. "Magic fingers, remember?"

Kathy's eyes widened as she realized what I meant. She flung her arms around my neck and kissed me hard. When our lips parted, she sighed. "You really are the best husband a woman could ever hope for!"

"Even though I just got our daughter pregnant?"

Kathy scoffed and giggled. "Hell, I might be the first woman in history to think you're wonderful because you just got our daughter pregnant!" She looked down at her belly. "You hear that, you cute, little creep? You're gonna have a... what is it... nephew? Brother?"

I shrugged. "Why not both? A bro-phew."

Kathy laughed at that and shook her head. "We've got to be the craziest people on Earth, but I love you."

I smiled warmly at my wife and hugged her close again, careful not to put too much pressure on the baby growing inside of her. "I love you, too, Kathy. Now... we should probably get to planning, yes? I can create a few small models of our soon-to-be dream house and we can tweak it however we want. Tomorrow morning we'll go collect our winnings, find a nice piece of land and, by day's end, we can start moving into our new place."

"You can build it that quickly?" she asked with surprise.

"I can excavate in a matter of minutes and I can create pretty much anything I want as long as I have some base material to work with. Once I've gone the excavation, I'll have plenty of base material."

"But a house is a hell of a lot bigger than a sword or a gun, honey. Won't that be too much strain even for you?"

I shrugged indifferently. "Then I'll take my time and be sure not to burn myself out. While it's true that I've never tried to create something on that scale before, I have a good feeling that it won't be that much of a problem for me."

She regarded me skeptically. "And to think, there was a time when I wouldn't have trusted you with a hammer and nails."

At that I smirked sardonically. "To be fair, what I'll be doing is a far cry from hammering a few nails into some wood. As long as my imagination is working, it'll be fine. If I have to, I'll do it in segments rather than everything at once."

"What about furniture?"

"What about it?"

"Well, we'll need some, won't we?"

"Naturally," I conceded, "but the same rules still apply. Get online and find some good pictures of what you want. I can work off those and let my imagination fill in the blanks."

Kathy shook her head in wonder. "I still don't get exactly how that works, anyway. You're able to produce gadgets that use technology that doesn't even exist yet, let alone that you understand. I mean, imagination can take you only so far. I just don't understand how you do it."

"Doctor Lamb puzzled over that one for awhile, too," I told my wife. "Through her studies she learned that the alien DNA sort of boosts the human brain to raise it to its fullest potential. While my imagination is certainly key in deciding on what I want, the knowledge of how to create it comes from... well... everyone." Kathy gave me a blank look of incomprehension. "You've heard stories of passengers refusing to take a plane flight and, lo and behold, the plane ends up going down, right? Well, some studies were done on that phenomenon."

"Collective consciousness," my wife supplied understandingly. "Okay. So... what? Your brain works as some sort of antenna that picks up on the whole collective consciousness vibe and, when you need to know how to make something without understanding it, you just sort of... tap into the knowledge of everyone else until you can come up with the answers?"

"More or less, yes," I answered. "It's not a conscious thing, though. It all happens on an unconscious level and I'd be helpless to explain how it works except for me to say that it just does. It's like an instinct, more than anything. Like breathing."

"Interesting," Kathy mused. "And all of your abilities work on the same principle?"

"They do for all of us, even you, honey. When you use your horticultural ability out in the garden, do you really understand what you're doing or do you simply have an idea of what you want to happen and then just sort of let it happen?"   Kathy pondered that for a moment and then sighed. "I guess you're right. I just never really gave much thought to it."

I smiled. "You're not supposed to, honey. It works a lot better and comes a lot easier if you have faith in it and in yourself. Doctor Lamb realized that part of the reason each person manifests different abilities is because, when those abilities do manifest, it's easier to use them if they compliment a person's mentality. I'm a creative person by nature and I have a natural instinct to want to protect others. Therefore, the talents I developed reflected those character traits. You're very much into plants and growing things, so it's perfectly natural for you to lean in that direction when it comes to your abilities."