Evil Bitch Ch. 11

The pink box held a matching turquoise watch for Becca loaded with her own A.I. who she named Minerva, after a goddess of healers. She also got a pair of the coveted lenses but hers like mine were custom for her medical background and included various scans including MRI, CAT and PEP. She could also do a cursory examination in a fraction of the time a hospital could. It was no wonder she was listed as Jon Masters' personal physician. There were few people on the planet as gifted or skilled in the field as my Becca was.

It was because of the wet work I was doing for the government and my unique physiology that brought us together in the first place. That and my big mouth about telling people what had happened when I was a kid.

Flashback:

I was born on the road somewhere between St. Louis and Kansas City Missouri. My mom and dad were still together back then. But six months later I would be fatherless and we would be stuck out in the middle of nowhere. He had been shot dead while walking into a store as it was being robbed. That was late 1946 and it would create a turning point in my life. My mom had to do some questionable things to survive and earn money for us. She never did speak much about it when I got older, can't say as I blame her really.

But it was that fateful night near a little known town in New Mexico that would change everything. No one had heard of Roswell before the crash but oh afterwards the entire world knew about it. But it wasn't little green men that I had seen that evening, no it was stranger and far more frightening than that. My mother had stopped near a farm late at night to take a short nap before continuing on.

To this day I am amazed that anyone could have slept through all that noise. The thing landed not far from the car and being the inquisitive child that I was I investigated. I managed to roll down the window and safely tumble to the thick grass below. Unhurt and undeterred I walked if what a one year old could be called walked.

The thing was huge in the eyes of a toddler and it was covered with all sort of tiny pictures. The top of the thing was clear and made of some sort of glass. I used the side of the thing to make my way towards the window. But before I could get there the top folded open like a flower and out staggered a thing covered in smooth beveled plates of armor. It had no face at first, I later figured out it was a helmet with a mirrored faceplate. The figure kneeled and took me into its arms. Unafraid I took a spit soaked fist to its helmet. The thing made a horrible hollow sound; I think it was laughing at me. The faceplate slid up and away to reveal the features of the thing, I think that's when I blacked out.

My mother found me asleep or unconscious by the side of the thing that had fallen from the sky. She told me later that she scooped me up and off we went racing away before the authorities discovered we were ever there. Years later of course I learned all about Roswell and the crashed weather balloon but we knew better. There wasn't one crash but two that night. It was something that was never reported to the public at large, ever.

I grew up a sickly child. I was always catching a cold or running a low grade fever it seemed like. That was until I turned thirteen. Then everything changed. It was late November when the fever hit me like an avalanche. Over a three day period it rose and rose until it spiked at nearly one hundred and ten degrees! The white doctor from town barely left my side it seemed and the shamans of our tribe prayed hard for my recovery. Early in the morning on that fourth day the fever broke and my life changed forever. During the night my hair had turned from its dark brown nearly black to snow white. And my eyes that had been a nut brown were now steel gray. But the most significant change was my general health. After that day I never got sick another day in my life. I could go play with the other kids and help mom around the house. The doctor had thanked her god and the shamans paid homage to the Great Spirit.

Over time there were other changes of course. I learned quite quickly that I had a knack for understanding the way of machines. I could mend a simple power tool or take apart and fix a refrigerator. Suddenly all the useless and broken crap, as my mother called it, was finding its way onto our front porch or back yard. I was kept busy tinkering, fixing and selling machines. I also managed to jimmy-rig several windmill power plants for the tribe from spare parts. So now all the useless crap that ran on electricity would actually work. I fixed cars to sewing machines and I was seen as a very useful member of the tribe.

When I turned fifteen I was sent out by the shamans for my vision quest. It was time I earned a name of manhood and I was very eager. So I took a few provisions and the things I would need and set out. I must have walked three or four miles until I found the right spot. It was isolated, quiet and had the right feel about it. I spent part of the day gathering firewood; nights in the dessert can be bitter cold. Then I used the small shovel I had brought to dig two small pits, one for the fire and one for me. It would work as a wind break and also it was tradition. During the day I meditated as I had been taught and during the night I stared into the flames of my fire.

It took ten days to receive my vision. It began when my fire burned down low and I could see eyes gleaming in the night. But these were not the eyes of wolves or coyote no these eyes burned violet in the firelight. I called out to them in Navaho and received no answer.

Then I thought if these were spirits maybe they were the same ones who came to me in my dreams. I cast off my blanket and took pieces of kindling and broke them up and formed one of the shapes I recalled from a dream. I held up each piece of wood as I laid it down and when the shape was done I returned to my blanket. One of the spirits approached and I could see she appeared human like. She looked at the design I had made and nodded. Then she raised her voice to the others and they all repeated the same sound in voices that sang like nothing I had ever heard before.

Then the others approached the fire and I could count thirteen in all. They sat in a semicircle at the very edge of the firelight. The female spirit motioned for me to come closer. That is when I learned some of what the symbols and images that haunted my dreams meant. Each spirit took a turn, drew a symbol and sang out its name. Then they attempted to explain to me what it meant. I realized at once it was a language lesson and focused my entire being on everything they did and said. It should have been impossible for me to learn the voice of the spirits and yet I did. I learned their names and they called me Ghostwalker. Each night for the next three nights the spirits visited me and taught me what they could of their speech. On the last night the spirit who had first approached me, Starmane by name, blessed me and touched my forehead and my thoughts.

I awoke the next morning wrapped in my blanket at the edge of the town. No one had seem me arrive and the shamans feared I might have perished on my vision quest. But when I told them about the spirits and their language they knew I had been chosen to be a great shaman. I wanted to share with them all that I had learned but they told me that it was for me alone to know.

Upon my return I also learned that my mother had died in her sleep while I was away. She had been bitten by a rattlesnake and succumb to the poison. It was strange that she died that way at that time of year. Most of the snakes were sleeping due to the cold weather. I didn't question it I accepted it as the Great Spirit's will.

Things changed after that. I began to write down my dreams and visions. Jotting down anything that might help me unlock the mystery of any and all of the spirit symbols. The shamans said I should keep what I learned to myself so after I filled three thin notebooks with my ramblings I put them in a metal box and buried them near my mother. That was the day I left the reservation to find myself.

I headed for the coast and at the tender age of sixteen I was truly on my own. I reached San Diego and found a job at one of the local marinas fixing boat engines. Thanks much to a man I called the human fish. He spent at least at much time in the water as he did out of it. His real name was Jimmy 'Jester' O'Reilly. I called him Jester and he called me Ghost. He was an older guy somewhere between puberty and the grave if you asked him. Jester had that bright red hair and freckles that marked him as a first generation Irishman. He was tanned all over and was not afraid to bare all to prove it. The ladies loved him and he kind of became the dad or older brother I never had. There were days when he was strict as all get out and then a week would go by and nothing serious would ever cross his lips. I learned more about engines from him than any book or any other living person. He showed me how to fix anything from a small outboard to a diesel engine on a submarine. He could draw schematics from memory and they never failed to impress me. By the time he was done with me not only could I work on anything I practically had?

We spent maybe two months in San Diego before we shipped out and we headed south to the Panama Canal. We fixed boats and ships all the way down the coast. It was because of this experience that I made some lifelong friends on both sides of the law. In some parts of Mexico they are sometimes the same person. I was Jester's little miracle worker though I was beginning to grow into my full height and build while I was with him. Everybody knew Jester and soon they all knew me too. There were places that you just don't walk down the street alone in any country. But thanks to Jester I was a fearless tourist in faraway lands. Together we built and raced boats, cars and even motorcycles. I developed a fierce reputation as the man who spoke to machines. If I said it could be fixed it got fixed. If I shook my head they knew it was a hopeless case.

Until you see the Panama Canal it is just a couple of words strung together. It is a work of engineering that is nothing short of jaw dropping. And the ships that pass through it are a menagerie in themselves. From small luxury yachts to oil tankers that dwarf anything short of an aircraft carrier. Jester and I got work down there and spent the winter months in panama where my education continued. It was there in panama that I met another grease monkey named Ben Morrows. Out of uniform it is fine to call him Ben. But once he dons it he is Master Chief and that is all no questions asked. Strange thing being around all that water it was Ben that taught me how to swim. I grew up in the desert away from any large bodies of water; I guess Jester just assumed everyone could do it.

Now that I could swim I discovered Jester's fascination with the water. When we were done with work for the day we swam, surfed and sailed. I was hooked. Spring rolled around and it was time to make the slow jaunt north. By the time we reached San Diego I had been with Jester almost a year. Once there I spent much of my free time hanging with Ben on and off the navy base. He showed me some of the larger ships up close and I even got to visit the engine room of one of the navy's subs. Ben tried to recruit me a dozen times at least but he saw that wanderlust and knew better.

One warm July evening the three of us were out on the beach staring up at the stars when Jester brought up the subject. He was half drunk at the time but it would be one of those pivotal moments in my life.

"You ever wonder if there is life out there," Jester said dreamily.

"Nah," Ben said taking a sip of his beer.

"Of course there's life out there I've seen it," I said and boom my life changed.

"What," Jester said looking at me. "You're shitting me kid."

"Yeah quit fucking around," Ben followed up.

"I've seen it with my own eyes," I told them and followed that up with what really happened at Roswell.

Jester was too drunk to believe what I had said but Ben on the other hand was a whole other story. I was too naïve to realize that Ben would always be Master Chief in or out of uniform. He believed me and I could see it in his eyes that he looked at me differently now. He cut out early that night and there was something about his rigid stance and the way he said see you soon that rang warning bells.

I grabbed my stuff, all my money and I ran. I hopped a train heading north that very night. I never saw Jester again and perhaps that was for the best. I miss his smile and his stupid jokes though.

London:

Meeting the Twins:

I thanked god for the back breaking labor of tearing down the assembly line and retooling. The girls had come home the night before. I was promptly told I would have to wait until we could get reacquainted. Talk about torture! They had been gone for weeks and now they were in the house and no physical contact. So I threw myself into the task at hand trying not to think of the three young women at home. I say trying but I was failing miserably. I kept thinking of the caress of their firm augmented tits wrapped around me. A heavy sigh escaped my lips and there were a few comments from the people around me.

"Someone is distracted," someone said.

"Yep, I was like that when I first got married," another voice said.

"Oi, everybody stay focused on the work. We don't need an accident now do we? Besides can't you see the poor man is suffering?"

That brought bouts of laughter, giggles and even a few cat calls. I couldn't help but laugh with them and it helped pass the time. I won't say the conversation turned raunchy but I was glad I was not wearing the boss hat today. I was just one of the guys.

Sadly I did have to spend some time in my office working on cost analysis and other boring shit. But boring left the building when late in the day when I reached for my pen. You might think that is about as boring as it gets but you'd be wrong, dead wrong. It was one of those automatic actions you do every day if you work in an office. My head was down reading a print out of salary expenditures when I lifted my hand and felt around for my pen, nothing. I moved my hand around a bit and still I felt nothing. I looked up and there was my pen just out of reach. I stretched a bit but the pen eluded my grasp. It rolled just out of my range. Frowning I sat up and reached for it again but this time it leapt away from my hand.

"What the fuck," I sputtered staring at the pen that was now near the far edge of my desk.

I stood up and walked around and stared at it. But there was nothing obviously wrong with it or my desk.

"Umbra," I said as I squatted on the far side of my desk.

"Master," she said as she appeared next to me.

"Do me a favor and run a scan on my pen please."

"Master?"

"Please."

"Very well Master," she said as the blue-violet light shot from my watch and illuminated the pen. "I can find no anomalies Master."

"Scan the desk and see if it is warped or uneven."

"Yes Master," she replied as she complied. "Your desk is within parameters to be considered level Sir."

I reached for the pen and this time it travelled at ballistic speed and imbedded itself into the wood between the windows behind my desk.

"Um..." was all I could manage.

"I have detected a strong telekinetic pulse Sir," Umbra said softly. "It came from you Master."

"Me, how the hell did I produce a pulse?"

"Um..." she said even softer.

I looked at her and stood up.

"UMMMM? Did you just say UMMMM?"

"Yes Master."

"Okay, I'll bite why did you say UMMM?"

"I didn't want to say anything bad about another digital construct."

"STERLING!!!!!"

I bit back the anger with great effort. I closed my eyes and forced the urge to break something out with a herculean exertion. There came an urgent knock and there was Melody standing in the doorway wearing an urgent expression.

"Jon, are you okay?"

"Why do you ask," I said turning to face her.

"You hollered so damn loud I thought well something bad had happened."

I had screamed mentally and she had heard it. It was time for a change of scenery.

"I'm taking the rest of the day off," I said and she just smiled.

"Okay boss I'll handle things for the next fifteen minutes," she smiled and it helped a lot.

"Alright smart ass, I may or may not be in tomorrow depending on how things go."

"Just call or email and keep me in the loop. Trouble at home," she asked.

"Close but not quite, I have problems with an unruly employee."

"Okay, but don't hurt them. Just talk it out and get their side before you do anything rash."

"It sounds like you have been reading a page out of my own book there Melody."

"Actually, I thought about it and wondered what your advice would have been in that situation. So in a way I did."

"I repeat you are a smart ass. I will call you later tonight. And uh Melody, don't be a stranger."

"Yes boss."

Stepping outside I dismissed the car waiting for me. I told him I was going to do some walking around to clear my head. It was Umbra who quietly informed me I was being followed. I recognized her immediately as one of the gals who worked at the plant. But it was the male figure that appeared a block ahead of me that made me forget all about her. There were other people on the street and I lost sight of him for a moment and that is all it took. He was gone. I walked up to the spot he had occupied and looked around. Whoever it had been they were long gone.

"Ooh Corvinus', I love this place!"

I turned to face the petite woman with the red-brown hair. She was barely five feet tall but despite her stature she was had large breasts and a curvaceous ass. She was wearing a faded blue t-shirt with white letters I had to squint to read, Las Vegas.

"Las Vegas," I said aloud. "Have you ever been there?"

"No, I never been across the pond," she said in her Londoner's accent.

"You're the one they called..." I began finally recognizing her as one of the gals working on the production line.

"Don't you dare call me a midget or boss or no boss I'll kick you in the balls!"

"Ah there's that flare of redhead temper," I said with a smile. "Ooh and green eyes to match!"

She smiled and settled her hands on her hips.

"You are not afraid of redheads eh?"

"I haven't met a woman I couldn't handle," I let her make her own decisions on what I meant by that.

"MMMMMM, sounds like a challenge to me boyo," she replied with a wink and a lick of her pink tongue along her small mouth.

"Perhaps you'd let me buy you a drink?"

"Can we take a peek in Corvinus' first?"

"Sure, it's not like I have a schedule or anything. After you... Indigo," I said Umbra providing her name to me in that long pause.

"How sweet a boss man who can remember my name, that's a check in the proper column for you."

"What happens if I get enough checks?"

"You'll be the first to know."

The interior of the shop was something out of any fantasy author's dream. The display cases were filled with ancient knick-knacks spanning centuries, cultures and continents. There were items crafted of wood, bone, crystal and metals both precious and common. Being my first time in the store I made my way slowly from the left most display to the right. Then I looked at the items sealed away along the far walls. Then once more almost child-like I took in each and every piece until I had returned to the left hand corner.

"Neat huh," Indigo said.

"Yeah," I told her.

"Mr. Corvinus has owned this place for years and years."

"Indigo, you make me out like I am on my death bed," the owner a man in his sixties replied.

I turned to face the owner and he had strong Slavic features and an easy smile. I offered him my hand and he had a strong grip for so elderly a man.