2015 Teaser 10 - Galactic Spy

This story has been my first attempt at a long-term story.  Neither Annie nor Lapdancing were ever intended to be as long as they have become.  In fact, Lapdancing started off as simply a single chapter with no plans to continue.

But this story has been a long term personal project of mine, and is very near and dear to my heart.  I have completely deleted it at one point, only to rewrite it all again.  I hope to someday finish is and post it in its entirety, not leaking out a chapter at a time like my other stories.

It takes after Spacegirl and other Sci-Fi female plots.

The story involves Christine Walker, a young woman who recently lost both her parents and grandmother.  Being without support, she has had to quit college and look for a job, answering a vague job that did not state what was involved.

Interviewing for the job, she was told she was hired, and still not knowing what the job was, was led further into the building to discover everything she had known was wrong.  The universe was a vast place filled with alien beings, and earth was one of the more underdeveloped worlds.

She also learned that for some reason, alien beings were attracted to human women.  For hundreds of years they had been coming to earth to kidnap women for the galactic sex trade.

Because of this and other offenses, a galactic agency was formed to "police" the universe, although rarely have humans been offered a position.

Without spoiling much of the first part, that's it in a nutshell, so here is the teaser...completely asexual, but hopefully you'll enjoy it nonetheless!

As they stepped out into the hallway, Christine suddenly noticed Kathleen’s suit once again was in the familiar leotard “onesie” she had earlier and matching Christine’s outfit, the change being so fast she had actually missed it.

She had seen her share of alien technology over the months, but clothing that actually conformed to any style at a thought was one of the most incredible things she had ever witnessed!  It was such a typical female response, she thought in amusement, and grounded her back to reality.

As they walked, Christine was once more amazed at the outfit she was wearing felt.  Even though this was a ‘standalone’ version and not one built into her body like Kathleen, she still was awed at how porous or whatever you wanted to describe it the suit felt, it almost seeming to breathe on its own and feel like she was wearing nothing.  The feeling was vaguely like stepping out of a shower, the air cool across her skin.  The material had no weight or substance at all, and Christine caught herself several times running her hand over her stomach and hips to make sure the outfit was really there, as she felt almost naked with it on.

Before she could ask more about the suits or the mysterious comment Kathleen had made about proceeding to the next level of her training, Christine suddenly took note of her surroundings, momentarily taken aback by how much more populated this area was than other parts of the facility, particularly the ones she had been training in the past couple months. 

Unlike the other areas where humans predominated the population, with only a rare alien—mainly Chthluxax’—seen, this area had a wide array of lifeforms moving about and performing various and sundry tasks only they could comprehend.

Christine felt like a country girl in the big city as she stared openly at some of the creatures.  No amount of science fiction movies could have prepared her for the visual explosion of beings she saw. 

They in turn stared at both Kathleen and her, making her again aware of how much her body was exposed within the tight-fitting outfit.  In fact, some of the more humanoid aliens were actually leering at her with a hunger in their eyes, confirming her suspicions as a few blatantly stroked what appeared to be their phallus through their clothes.

"Even amongst the agency you'll find there are some unmannered aliens," Kathleen shrugged as she ignored the leers of aliens upon both herself and Christine, leading the younger women to an area less populated.  "As we mentioned your first day, human women are practically a catalyst for alien sexual predilections, so seeing two female agents walking together is a sight many of those we passed had never seen—even being stationed on earth.  It’s a telltale sign I probably spend too much time in my office,” she said, “as some of them have never even seen me, let alone the two of us together.  It is a sight many will remember for some time in their fantasies,” she chuckled. 

Continuing on, she changed the subject—something she seemed to plenty of—as Kathleen said, “This area is even more isolated than the others you’ve been to, kept secluded due to the higher number of aliens.  Even for them human contact is notoriously rare, particularly females, even though they are stationed on Earth."

They eventually came to a large metallic door reminding Christine of a bank vault, only without any dial, handle, or other means of opening it.

"I will let you do the honors," Kathleen smiled.  "As an agent, you have full access to anywhere in this facility, so it's time you used that power," she laughed.

It had taken Christine over a week to learn her Federation designation, made up of a variety of numbers and letters from all planets.  She idly wondered if they randomly pulled words out of a hat at one point, but was told there were distinct meanings to each and every number, and only one series of numbers could be used once, and only once, for any individual.

"Walker, 18-cocum-beta-4-koplos-iz-pephyca-06944-chi," she said proudly.

"Approved," a feminine computer voice stated from nowhere.  "Welcome Agents Walker and Montgomery," the soothing voice stated.

The door silently rolled into the wall, revealing a large room.  It took Christine’s eyes a moment to adjust, as the room and everything within it was pure white or metallic, the only break in the monotony of color being themselves as they stepped into the room.

In the center of the chamber was a large circular rail surrounding what looked like a spinning disco ball. 

Try as she might, Christine could not see what held the ball in place.

"Christine, may I introduce you to the collective AI known affectionately as The Source," Kathleen said with obvious amusement.

"Only to you Agent Montgomery," the female voice said, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once, literally filling the room.

Kathleen laughed, looking at Christine. 

"It's a nickname I came up with during one mission, it stands for 'Stupid Omniscient Uncaring Retched Computer with an Ego,'" she laughed.

"I perform within my designated parameters Agent Montgomery.  My sole function is the health, safety, and informational source for agents.  Current assignment being Montgomery, Worthington, Elizabeth, Kathleen and Walker, Amelia, Christine," the voice said.

Although impossible, Christine thought she detected an inflection of annoyance in the female mechanical voice as she looked at Kathleen in surprise.

"Me?" she asked.

Kathleen smiled at her as she answered, "You’ve heard of supercomputers?  Well, this is a supercomputer on steroids—and then some.  It is the collective accomplishments of thousands of worlds and technology compiled into a single artificial intelligence.  I mentioned to you your outfit being around the cost of the national debt?  Well, the cost of this system is incalculable.  It is literally the most unique, expensive, and irreplaceable item in the universe.  It took hundreds of years to build, employing thousands upon thousands of alien scientists, and then even longer to fully program.  Its actual designation is a ‘Telemetrical Aegis Multi-scientific Intelligence’ system—basically a computer that can transfer knowledge through space at a moment's notice to anybody tuned into it.  If you become a full agent, it will be designated solely to you.  Each female agent has their own system assigned to them, their complete life's history imputed to create the AI's personality, what little there is," she said.

"I do believe that is the nicest thing you have ever said about me, Agent Montgomery," the voice echoed through the room.

"Wait, you said one agent, but it just said it was assigned to both of us," Christine asked.

"Correct.  For now it is shared between us, until your training is complete.  At which point it will be assigned solely to you, and I can finally retire my old ass down to a life of administration," Kathleen said to Christine's astonishment.

"Retire?" Christine asked.

Then she recalled something she had heard her first day at training. 

"Wait.  You are not really ninety-something years old?" she asked incredulously. 

So much had happened over the last few months that one particular comment on her first day was all but forgotten.

"Agent Montgomery is currently eight-seven earth years of age, converted to galactic standard sixteen point zero five eight gartons," the voice proclaimed.

"Gee, thanks Source," Kathleen said wryly.  “Didn’t anybody ever tell you not to tell a girl’s age?” she asked.  Turning to Christine, she smiled.  "It is time to learn about more of your training," she said.  "Let's go back to my office.  I think you'll need a drink before this is over.  Goodbye Source," she said, leading Christine out the door.

"Technically Agent Montgomery, I am always with you.  There is neither greeting nor farewell, there just is," the voice stated as they made their way out the door, as Christine literally heard Kathleen actually growl.

Back in her office, Kathleen poured a tall glass of a blue liquid for both of them, before sitting down next to Christine on her lounge sofa. 

"Here.  The closest translation for this is Tularian brandy.  It goes down like Kool-aide, but if you stand up to quickly, it will knock you on your ass," she chuckled, handing a glass to Christine.

Sipping the liquid, Christine found it delicious, saying so to Kathleen.

"Well, to be honest, it is highly illegal on this planet, and extremely rare in the rest of the universe—one of the few perks I still enjoy as an agent." Kathleen laughed, sipping her own glass.  “I have a friend who sends me a bottle once in a rare garton.”

Christine recognized the time phrase—one of the many things she had learned while sleeping.  Garton was a time expanse unit in which everything in the universe was based off of.  Amazingly, every unit of time from every civilization could be calculated in gartons, math truly being the universal language.

They sat quietly for a few minutes sipping their drinks, before Kathleen took a deep breath.

"Well, enough beating around the bush, eh?" she said.  "I am going to be frank with you.  You may hate me after this talk, but even with Daryl's perception and introduction to—well," she said, waving her hands around, "all of this, I understand it still is a bit overwhelming, even you having been here a few months.  Becoming an agent is not just learning about the world, as I'm sure you have figured out," she said as Christine nodded.

"How much do you think that file cabinet over there weighs?" she asked, startling Christine with the sudden change of topic. 

It was a habit of Kathleen’s she had also noticed in Daryl and Chthluxax’, often changing thoughts in mid-stream.  Sometimes Christine wondered if it was done intentionally to divert her attention elsewhere.

Getting up and raising her eyebrows in question at Kathleen, who merely nodded, Christine went and opened up each the drawers, seeing them full of files and paper.  She attempted to move the cabinet, but it weighed so much she could not even tilt it, let alone move it at all.

"I would say it is easily a couple hundred pounds," she said reasonably, sitting down again on the lounge as Kathleen again nodded.

Without a word, Kathleen got up and walked to the cabinet.  Looking at Christine over her shoulder, she put her arms around it and, still smiling at her, lifted the cabinet off the ground effortlessly, being careful not to open the drawers, and then putting it back down as effortlessly, as if it were completely empty! 

Christine stared in amazement as Kathleen sat back down next to her, smiling. 

"There is more to a Special Services Agent than meets the eye.  Each agent is outfitted with cybernetic implants making you stronger, less susceptible to injury, faster at healing if you are injured, and giving you overall more endurance than normal.  My bones are as hard as steel, able to withstand a direct hit by even a sledge hammer.  In essence, you become a super human," she said to Christine's amazement.

Christine had heard and seen a lot over the last few months; however, watching Kathleen pick up the full filing cabinet was completely unexpected, as was this revelation.

"Christine, you are scheduled for your implants over the next couple months.  They are added in stages—the first ones being placed close to your bones in order to strengthen them over time.  The process basically works from the inside out, hence those are the first implants.  Then there are ones added to increase your musculature, then overall physiology, and finally—others, to fulfill your role as an agent," she told her enigmatically.

Christine stared at her in shock; however, the tone of Kathleen's voice gave her pause.

"And the trade-off?" she asked, knowing this would not be something kept from her without reason until now.

"You remember me mentioning how not many agents survived training?" she said to Christine's nod.  "The cybernetic implants are alien technology; they were never made for human physiology.  Although every attempt has been made at making them as compatible to humans as possible, there is a 95% chance they will kill you," she said gravely. 

Christine stared at her in shock.

"Sweetheart, you have become a dear friend.  This is a choice only you can make.  I was the first woman to ever survive the implants, and it has been attempted on hundreds of female agents-in-training before and after me.  Nobody knows why my body took to the implants.  You asked why there are so few agents, particularly women?  The reason is this, the implants have killed all others," she said somberly.

“Males seem to have a better tolerance to the implants, and although the success rate is still extremely low, it is in the 35% range.  Daryl is a former agent who, like me, has retired to a more sedentary office-oriented position.  It is yet another reason I was so hesitant to take Daryl’s recommendation on your position.

"This is the turning point of your career, and the choice is yours.  If you decide not to proceed, nobody will think less of you, and you will still be permitted to work for the agency and be given an administrative job.  Mary-Ellen, the physical therapist you know, she chose that route and you can see she is very happy.  The same holds true for Emily, who I know you have also grown fond of.  You will still receive some of the 'perks' that go with the job—all expenses will be paid for your entire employment career and you can even get a galactic position on another world, but you will never be asked to become an agent again, it is a onetime decision." she said solemnly, bowing her head.  "I am sorry to keep this from you until now, but the choice was never mine to make," she said, finishing her drink.

Silent for a while, her mind in turmoil at the grim revelation, Christine asked, "What do you think?"

Kathleen smiled, saying sadly, "It is not my choice to make, as I already made my decision.  This is something you have to decide upon your own," she said.

"If you had to do it all over again, knowing what you do now, what would be your choice?" Christine asked, as Kathleen smiled at her.

"Already learning how to twist your words to make somebody talk I see.  I will not lie to you; the life of an agent is not glamorous.  I have been tortured, raped, left for dead with almost every bone in my body broken—even with the implants.  I have been bled to the point of death.  I have watched loved ones killed in my name, an entire species wiped out because of actions I have made.  I still wake up at nights with nightmares," she said, pouring herself another drink and taking a long pull at the glass.

"Would I do it again?  Hell yes!" she said emphatically, looking at Christine.  "There is a lot of evil out there Chris, and some of it is gone because of me.  For every life I have taken or lost, another thousand survived because of me and my actions.  I will not lie, you will never be invincible.  Even with all the implants there are beings stronger than you who could kill you in a second.  Being human, the implants can only do so much, in the end it is what you do and how you do it that matters.  I live with every decision I made and am proud to know I served dutifully," she said.

"And there are the perks," she smiled down at Christine, offering her another drink.  "I was born in Cleveland, Ohio on March 1st, 1954.  The implants extend your life well beyond normal, part of the disease prevention part I told you.  You will be immune to most diseases other humans are affected with; you can breathe air that would kill others; and you are able to survive atmospheric conditions that would also be lethal to other humans and even many alien species.  Your improved metabolism will prevent you from ever getting fat, over even prevent most drugs from taking effect—which is a bitch when you undergo surgery,” she said.  “That’s why I like this brandy,” she smiled, “it's about the only thing I can get shit-faced with," she laughed.

"There are a few side effects that also come with the job, but we can discuss those more fully if you make a decision.  There is no time table for this Christine, take your time, as your life literally depends upon it, but a decision does need to be made," Kathleen said, offering another drink which Christine declined, already feeling light-headed.

"You said Daryl was 300 some years old?" she said quietly.

"Don't miss much, that's a good sign," Kathleen smiled.  "I told you there were seven agents, two of which were you and I," she said to Christine's nod.  "Daryl is another—he was an agent long before I was ever born, serving the agency for over two hundred years until he decided to retire to an office position.  He put up with it the longest of anybody I know.  I’ve done it for forty years before I had my fill.  Once an agent quits they are given whatever position they want in the Federation for their honored service," she explained.  "I chose to lead other agents, as I firmly believe in the job.  Daryl had similar thoughts, choosing to use his empathy towards finding better agents, as he was as sick as I was of losing one candidate after another.

"We have two other agents in retirement, leaving only two others in the field.  One of them is currently MIA, although his life signs are still registering to our AI’s, indicating he is still alive, but we have no idea of his whereabouts.  At this point it is assumed he is compromised, and if he issues the command to his link to our AI it will initiate a kill sequence, frying his brain and killing him instantly," she said to Christine's shocked look.

"The bottom line is we are spies Christine, and as I told you, with my Source they become a part of you until you are replaced.  One of the cybernetic implants implanted within you will allow your AI to communicate over vast distances, almost telepathically.  The only way to remove the link once placed within you is to kill you and cut out your brain, at which point the implant self-destructs—another safety feature to prevent the wrong hands on gaining access to our systems," she said gravely.

“Although The Source will be assigned to solely you as its agent, it will always be a part of me, and if there were an emergency, it can immediately re-establish its link to notify me, but hopefully that time will never come,” she said.

"But enough doomsday talk.  You are free of any other duties until you make your decision, which, as I said before, you can take as long as you want, but decide you must," Kathleen told her.

Christine stood up, almost immediately falling back to the couch as Kathleen laughed, breaking the somber mood. 

"I told you this stuff sneaks up on you.  Do you want me to walk you to your room?" she asked.

Christine declined, telling her she could make it on her own, silently leaving the office, albeit wobbly.

She was not sure how long she sat in her room, staring at the waterfall filling one entire wall.  She had seen something similar in a magazine, telling Chthluxax’ it would have been neat to have, and the next day after her physical therapy session when she had gone back to her room, it was there—her entire wall transformed into a rocky waterfall, installed and functioning perfectly. 

Over the last two months, the Baslax had become a common fixture at her side—her mentor in terms of knowledge, and a sparring partner during training.  She had grown quite fond of him, not even realizing the point when he had gone from horse-headed alien to friend, made readily apparent by his gift of the waterfall.  She had tried to thank him, but he pleaded ignorance about ever knowing about it; however, as he was the only one she had told, she knew the truth.

As if aware of him being in her thoughts, the door opened, the subject of her thoughts stepping into the room. 

"If I am intruding, I can leave," Chthluxax’ said.

Christine smiled, waving the alien in as he sat across from her.

"Kathleen told me it was time," he said, his accented English distinctive in its own way. 

The Baslax could speak his own tongue and she would still understand him, as a universal translator had been implanted into his vocal cords to cause his words to be understood by whomever he was talking to, but he chose to speak in whoever’s native language he was addressing.

Christine wore an ear bud to decipher the alien speech within the facility, so she could have understood him even if he spoke his native tongue; however, her ear bud was not as advanced as the one implanted in agents.  She had been told she would eventually be fitted with one, realizing it was probably one of the many cybernetic implants possibly in her future. 

"How is it for Baslax," she paused, "-eans?" she asked.

Chthluxax’ smiled, his small mouth at the end of his elongated head stretching from side to side. 

"Baslas, would be the correct pronunciation in your tongue," he said.  "Sadly, the Baslas need fewer implants and even then, they are never a health hazard.  Most species of agents need only a few implants, it is only due to the nature of your species, being relatively fragile, that makes the need for so many implants to be performed," he explained.  “In fact, due to the high mortality rate, human agents were actually illegal for hundreds of your years before being allowed to be attempted again.  Daryl was the third to survive following the ban, and Kathleen is the youngest.  Ben-Paul, whom you have not met, became a full agent nearly 200 of your years before now.  And before Daryl was Ying, who is currently missing; he became an agent roughly an earth millennium ago.  Humans are only asked if the need is great," he said, Christine familiar enough with his mannerisms to know he had finished lecturing by folding his hands.

She smiled at the now familiar gesture Chthluxax’ did when giving a talk to her, the action a physical pause for her to consider his words.

"And I assume the need is great," she concluded, looking up as Chthluxax’ sighed.

"My child, the need is always great for agents.  Your species, and in particular your sex, does things to others that nobody understands, but it has always been so.  And there will always be others.  If not you, another will be chosen, and another after that, continuing until eventually one survives.  You yourself may perish, and someday there will be another.  Do not let the need sway your opinion," he admonished.

"But it is something I believe in," Christine told him.  "All my life I felt there was more to it.  When I walked into Daryl's office I already assumed I was going to be a waitress, possibly a stripper, but it was something I accepted.  Once I entered into the agency, I finally feel like I belong.  If I always second guessed myself, I would never do anything.  I feel I am resigned to this somehow, come what may," she said to him.  "Does that make any sense?" she asked.

"More than even yourself understand, my child," the creature told her, moving closer so that he could put his arm around her.

"Tell me about your parents," he said suddenly, surprising her with the change of topic as she leaned into him.

For the next hour she told him of not only her parents, but her grandmother, whom she had only really known for three years before losing them all.  She told him all about the trips her parents would take her, how they would struggle to save enough to go on a vacation just for her, even though they were broke and could use the money elsewhere. 

"Travel is the best way for a child to learn, experiencing the new and unknown.  But as much as one travels, you will never be prepared for the future," Chthluxax’ told her late into the evening.

********************

Christine awoke in her bed, not remembering falling asleep in Chthluxax’ arms on the couch, or even the Baslas tucking her in.  The brandy must have hit her harder than she thought as she stirred from her sleep. 

She was still wearing her onesie, although her boots had been placed at the foot of the bed and she smiled at Chthluxax’ treatment of her.

After a shower—she had been told the suit was actually continuously cleaning her, giving her the ‘fresh out of shower’ feeling she had noted the day before—but the physical process of washing herself was soothing. 

When she was finished with her shower she put on the onsie again, amazed at how it felt as fresh as if it were cleaned.

She roamed the halls of the agency after that, stopping briefly to say hello to Kathleen.  She commented on her outfit and her suspicions were confirmed, an agent’s clothing had tiny nanobots in the fiber keeping it clean and in repair such that it could be worn forever without cleaning.  The zipper technology she had noticed was a similar technology.

Neither mentioned the big elephant of a decision looming between them.  Instead, Kathleen kept the discussion light and followed Christine's lead in topics.  They had coffee together, and then Christine excused herself to give herself more time to think.

Eventually she found herself outside of Daryl's office, glancing at Emily who smiled sadly at her. 

"Oh Sweetie, I heard.  Do you want to talk?" she asked.

Christine thanked her for her kindness, instead asking, "Is Daryl in?"

Emily smiled, nodding and opening the door without even announcing her presence as she waved Christine into the office, closing the door behind her after she entered.

At the sound of the door clicking shut, Daryl looked up, smiling at Christine.

"I knew you would be here eventually," he smiled.  "Sit down dear, though I'm sure it will not ease the weight of decision before you," he said.  "You want to talk about it?" he asked her, offering a glass of water—with lemon—which she declined.

"Tell me about it," she said to him, not needing to explain further.

"Well, each agent is different," he began.  "One thing in common is it hurts like a fucking bitch!" he said, startling Christine with his language.  "Sorry," he said, shaking his head, "I know that’s not proper language before a lady, but it's the cold truth.  It is pain like you will never have felt pain before.  It burrows into your bones; it enters every pore of your being.  You will want to die, which may be why some agents do, choosing that over the pain.  It will haunt you forever; I still have nightmares over it.  And once that pain is over, it is time for the next series of implants, and the pain begins all over again," he told her.

"Great pep-talk Daryl," Christine smiled.

"You asked for the truth, would you have me lie?" he asked her as she shook her head.  "Look, whatever your decision, everybody is behind you.  If you decide to pass, there is a position for you anywhere you want.  Nobody will think less of you, and nobody will ever mention it to you, it is a private decision.  Nobody can pick life over death and be thought of being a lesser person," he told her, pouring himself a glass of water and putting in a slice of lemon from the refrigerator.

"And to answer your next question, yes, I would do it all over again," he smiled.

"Damn empaths," Christine murmured, loud enough for him to hear.

"Look, if you do go through it, I will be there.  I was there for Kathleen, and she said through it all my voice was an anchor to hold onto.  As an empath I can attempt to ease some of the pain if you ask," he told her.

"But don't empaths feel the emotions and feelings of others?" Christine asked as Daryl smiled at her.

"Smart girl, and yes, the pain you won’t feel will transfer over to me, but it is a small price to pay for your sanity.  I have been through it once, and when helping Kathleen it was far less than what I had experienced on my own.  It is something I freely offer," he told her.

"Free choice," she murmured, looking at him. 

After a long pause she smiled shyly at him.

"You knew my decision before I even stepped into this door, didn't you," she smiled again.

Daryl smiled back, saying, "My dear, I knew the answer the first day you stepped through that door," he said, patting her shoulder.

They talked for a while longer, Daryl eventually accompanying Christine to Kathleen's office. 

In answer to Kathleen's questioning glance, Christine looked at her and smiled, saying, "I'm ready for the worst," she said.