Intrusion Ch. 05

"Then I went across the road to a residential building, you know, where the students live. I remember going into a kitchen and... Marcus and this girl were, um, making out. It was if as I knew what they were doing, even though I couldn't see them." The dream had started to get erotic at that point, although the details were vague; she remembered feeling deeply aroused, but couldn't remember why. She felt that that wasn't something she wanted to share with the two strangers.

Instead she said, "Then... it's difficult to describe, but it's as if I reached out, but not with my hands. Maybe it was the thing in the dream, the thing moving my body, perhaps it reached out. But I remember being frightened, because I thought the thing controlling me was controlling Marcus too, and that it was going to take the woman with him next." Emma shivered at the memory.

"And then?"

"That was it. The dream ended, and I woke up here. Where's Denzel? And Liam?"

"Liam is fine; he's just concerned about you," said the Asian woman, "Denzel is somewhere else, I'm sure the doctors here can help you out more with that later on." She seemed to be hiding something, but Emma wasn't sure what. Well, if you didn't count the dream, she hadn't really seen Denzel since the flat, had she?

"What really happened?" she asked instead, "while I was in this fugue?"

"We're still working that out. But you've been very helpful. But if you remember anything else, the doctors here have our contact details."

The two made as if to get up, but a sudden thought struck Emma, "you are doctors yourselves, right? You're not the police? I haven't done something wrong that I don't remember, have I?"

"Yes, we're both doctors," said pony-tail, "and no, you're not in any trouble. I'd get some sleep if I were you."

"I didn't catch your names?"

"That's all right, I don't think we mentioned them."

Before she could enquire further, the two left the room, and Emma was left on her own again. But the door to the private room didn't quite close properly, and she thought she heard the two speaking softly, whispering so that they thought she couldn't hear.

"We're 'both' doctors?"

"Hey, I worked hard for my PhD."

***

The Fragment was weakening.

It had control over two of the bipedal sentients, and had manoeuvred them to a safe location closer to its goal. But by now, it should have had control over at least three, maybe four. It should have been growing in strength, its newfound familiarity with the creatures' neural circuitry paying off with the ability to expand its network of hosts.

The ingestion of toxins by one of its earlier hosts - toxins that the biped itself had apparently not recognised as harmful - had been a setback. It had lost a significant portion of itself because of that, and was the weaker for it. But prolonged separation from the Gestalt was proving even more problematic.

It had been forced to relinquish the unaffected host just to control these two new targets, and it did not seem to be growing now, despite its time embedded in their control centres. To survive, it would need to expand further, to spread its influence. But it did not know if it could do that.

The Fragment reached out, sensing its surroundings. There were many bipeds around it, not in close proximity, but in other chambers of the same artificial structure. There was a single sub-sentient quadruped, too, and it queried the semantic memory of one of its hosts.

'Cat'.

Cat was not useful; the Fragment discarded the possibility of controlling a cat.

None of the bipeds around it stood out as more useful than any of the others. But they would provide additional substrate, and expand its reach. Furthermore, the Fragment needed to be sure that its ability to subvert additional hosts had not already been compromised. It reached out.

Many of the bipeds felt a desire to mate with others of their kind around them. The Fragment sorted through the possible permutations to determine which would make the most effective targets. In some cases, the mating drive was not reciprocal; it discarded those as inefficient. Based on proximity and potential strength of mating desire, it narrowed the list down to three dyads.

One pairing it discarded as the bipeds were nearing senescence. Younger, fitter hosts would be of more use.

One pairing it discarded as both individuals were male. A more equal mix of genders among its hosts would give it more opportunities.

The third pairing was problematic as the female had habitual blocks in place that tended to override the mating drive. Nonetheless, this seemed the most promising target and the Fragment reached out, enhancing the activity of the anticipatory reward centres and supressing those responsible for the blocks in the female.

It needed to control more of the bipeds. Not for knowledge of this world and its inhabitants, but to make it easier for it to achieve its goals. For the Fragment had gained the knowledge it needed from the male host that it currently had under its control. It had a clear objective, and was formulating a plan to realise it.

The Fragment knew exactly how it was going to cleanse this world of its biped species.

***

"So, we're definitely looking for this Marcus Freeman? And whoever was with him?" asked Helen as they gathered in the office again.

"Very much so," agreed Rebecca, "we have strong reason to suppose that they're both under the control of this entity, whatever it is."

"Fortunately," said Richard, "he seems to have taken his car, so we've got something to track."

"You guys have an ALPR system over here?" asked Curtis, looking pointedly at Brandon, who was tapping away at his keyboard, "something we can hack into?"

"Never heard of it," replied the technical specialist, not looking up from his computer screens.

"Don't be obtuse," said Helen, "you know perfectly well what he means."

"Yes..." said Brandon, sighing, "we have ANPR," he stressed the 'N', "Automatic Number Plate Recognition... what do you think I'm doing? And I don't need to hack into anything; we've got legal access to the National Data Centre."

"So you can follow his license plate? Where the heck is this guy, then?"

"I can tell you that he didn't trip any of the congestion charge cameras, so he hasn't gone into central London."

"I didn't know London had a congestion charge."

"That's because your embassy never bloody pays it. Anyway, I do have a hit going north on Hendon Way, but that was hours ago, so he could be anywhere by now."

"And that's it?"

"No; it just means that I'm having to widen the net. ANPR isn't perfect, you know, we can't precisely follow everyone's movements across the whole of the country. And it isn't normally used like this."

"Keep trying," said Helen, "anything that can provide us with a clue as to what he wants. Or 'it' wants."

"Yeah, I'm still... wait!" Brandon held his hand up as if to silence everyone - not that anyone was actually speaking. "I've just got one. A hit for his number plate heading north on the M6 at Junction 16."

"Can we pretend," asked Curtis, sounding a little irritated, "that some of us aren't experts on the UK road system? Where's he going?"

"Could be a lot of places," interrupted Richard before Brandon could come up with a suitably sarcastic response, "but he'd be closest to Manchester at that point, I think."

"Manchester?" Curtis sounded confused, "why the heck would anyone want to go to Manchester?"

"Spoken like a true Londoner," quipped Rebecca, "but it's a fair question. It's a bit like aliens landing on the White House lawn and then demanding to be taken to Pittsburgh."

"There's got to be something there that isn't in London."

"We still don't know exactly why it went to the trouble of taking over Marcus in the first place, when it already had a perfectly good victim," Nalini reminded them, "or even if it is going to Manchester. It could be heading for somewhere outside it, or it could be Liverpool, or maybe it's heading further north."

"It wants to see the Blackpool illuminations?" joked Rebecca, to a disapproving look from Helen.

"Or, more likely, go to ground somewhere in the Lake District. It could even be going to Scotland."

"Keep looking, Brandon," said Helen, "maybe we can get some idea where he turned off."

But they didn't find anything else. Their target was, it seemed, somewhere in the Northwest of England. Which wasn't really narrowing it down.

***

[Attempting to boost arousal levels in identified targets.]

Was it hot in here, Kayleigh wondered? It didn't seem to be, but she felt strangely flushed all the same. In fact... she was feeling... well, she didn't really want to think about that. But it was probably just as well she was alone, or she might have been blushing like a mad thing.

It was just an overnight stay, a convenient stopping place before she caught the plane to Innsbruck the next day. Tomorrow morning she would be meeting up with her friends at the airport, ready for the skiing holiday, but tonight she would be on her own. It was a cheap hotel, too, one of those cut-price ones at a motorway service station. So, while the room was nice enough, there was no bar or restaurant, or anything much to actually do.

As it happened, though, there had been something to break the boredom. Going out to the service station for a bite to eat (not there was much to choose from, beyond a Greggs and a Burger King) she had bumped into an old friend.

She hadn't seen John in a couple of years. It had turned out that he was doing much the same as her, although his trip was to Brussels, where his brother had apparently moved recently. He had almost decided to take the longer trip down south to catch the Eurostar from London, but there was some special deal that made Manchester Airport a better proposition. And that coincidental chain of events had ended with him happening to see her.

They had chatted a bit about old times, perhaps spending a little longer than they otherwise might, since neither of them had anything else to do. It had been pleasant, and she had reflected that John was a good-looking guy, with a quiet voice that she had to admit she found rather attractive. He had sandy hair and clear blue eyes, with a quirky smile and a self-deprecating tone when he talked about himself. And when she talked, he listened attentively, not interrupting, genuinely interested in what she had to say. He might even have been flirting a bit, although they both knew that that wasn't going anywhere.

And then they had finished, walked back to the hotel, said their goodbyes and headed off to their rooms. Maybe she'd see him again in the morning; that would be nice.

The odd thing was, she couldn't get him out of her mind. It wasn't that late yet, and she was flipping through the channels on the TV, not finding anything worth watching. But even when she did try to concentrate on something, John's face just popped into her mind, or the way that he spoke, something he'd said that evening.

And more than that, too. Would he be a good kisser? What would he be like in bed? She didn't have much experience of that, of course, but, for some reason, she was thinking about it a lot this evening. She was a good girl, she thought, fingering the small cross on the chain about her neck. And she was never likely to get up the courage to ask him on a date, even if the opportunity presented itself, which was unlikely in itself.

So why was she feeling so flushed and... and a bit randy, to be honest? It was most unlike her.

[Attempting to bypass habitual blocks in female target.]

She turned off the TV. She wasn't getting anything done, and she'd already texted her friends to let them know when she'd be at the airport. There really wasn't anything else she could do now, so she might as well turn in for an early night. Tomorrow would be a good day, especially once they were all together in the evening - at a much nicer hotel than this one. Then she could get John properly out of her mind.

She nestled up under the sheets. It was a double bed, since the hotel didn't do single rooms, and really quite comfortable. The hotel might be basic, but at least it got the beds right. She turned off the light, and stared into the dark.

Lying in bed doing nothing when she actually wasn't that tired was turning out not to be the best way to get John out of her mind.

What would it be like to sleep with him? She imagined that he'd be very... no, she really shouldn't think like that. She was a good Catholic girl, really she was, not the sort who'd done anything she shouldn't with the boys at school. She might not be strongly religious, but she knew where to draw the line. True, neither of them were actually married, or even in a relationship, but... well, it was never going to happen anyway, so why think about it?

The problem was, she still was thinking about it.

[Male target's thought patterns successfully directed, and appropriate actions being undertaken. Targets in close proximity. Blocks in female target bypassed. Preparing to initiate mating drive.]

Perhaps he was thinking about it, too? Imagine if, right now, he were to... no, she should stop being ridiculous. But surely there was no harm in thinking about it. Maybe she could just... no, she shouldn't, it wasn't proper. She really shouldn't slide her hand down under the sheets and...

Mmm. That was really good.

Maybe tonight she wasn't such a good girl. She hardly ever did this. With the emphasis on the 'hardly', if she was honest with herself. But, oh yes, right now this was what she needed.

OH... most definitely, yes...

There was a knock on the door.

Kayleigh froze, eyes wide and staring into the darkness.

"Kayleigh? It's me: John. Am I disturbing you?"

Oh God, what if he'd heard? What if he knew what she'd been doing? She felt a rush of blood to her face, knew that her cheeks were burning. She hadn't been that loud, though, just barely a squeak, and some heavy breathing. So, no, of course he couldn't have heard.

"Kayleigh? I do have the right room, don't I?"

"Yes! Just a minute!"

Thoughts rushed through her mind, some of them still decidedly indecent. Why was he here? In the middle of the night? Okay, so, looking at the clock, it really wasn't all that late. She had gone to bed early, after all. But even so, what was this about? What if he was thinking the same things she was?

No, no, be realistic, she told herself. Not really thinking, she jumped out of bed, just remembering to pull up her pyjama bottoms as she did so, and rushed to the door to open it.

"Hi," said John, "I just thought that you might..." he faltered, seeing what she was wearing, "oh, sorry, I didn't realise you were in bed. I didn't mean to disturb you."

His gaze dropped, eyes involuntarily focussed on her chest. Kayleigh realised that, in addition to the fact that she was only dressed in nightwear with no dressing gown, her ample bosom meant that the top was tighter than the designer had probably intended. Even that wouldn't have been quite so bad had her nipples not been so obviously erect behind the fabric.

Kayleigh went deep red and spluttered wordlessly.

"Uh, right..." John managed, evidently feeling almost as embarrassed as she did, "you know, I think I'll just..." and he began to step backwards, out into the corridor again.

[Boost mating drive. Depress inhibitory pathways. Process must be allowed to continue.]

Kayleigh didn't know what came over her, but she suddenly reached out for John, practically hauled him into the room, and pushed the door shut behind him. Then she stood up on tip toes, pulled his head down to hers - he was quite a few inches taller than she was - and kissed him full on the lips.

Almost immediately, they pulled apart, both gasping and staring at each other. Kayleigh couldn't believe what she'd just done, but it had been such a spur of the moment thing. She had never done anything like that in her life before. Not just because her Catholic upbringing told her that wasn't the sort of thing good girls did, but because it was just so potentially embarrassing. What if he didn't reciprocate? She'd never live it down!

Kayleigh tried to blurt out an apology, but still couldn't find the words. She knew that she was blushing furiously, and it really didn't help that John's gaze kept flicking between her wide-eyed face and her prominent, and currently heaving, chest.

When she remained frozen to the spot, John finally took the initiative, stepped forward, pulled her into his arms and returned her kiss, longer and more passionately this time. One hand tangled in her long hair, while the other cupped her bottom through the thin fabric of the pyjamas. She was pressed up against him, responding to his kiss in kind, both confused and delighted at the same time. Her fantasies of just minutes before were coming true, as if the work of some benevolent genie.

At first, she didn't know what to do with her hands, but soon slipped them beneath his jacket, feeling the warmth of his back through his shirt, pulling him towards her. Pressed together, she became aware of a distinct bulge in his trousers. Just as she'd hoped, this was more than just kissing. But should she go through with it? What if he just ditched her the next day? What if he told everyone what they'd done?

Oh, hell, who cared? She was going to do this anyway! Besides, she really didn't think he was that kind of person; she wouldn't have been attracted to him if he had been.

[Mating drive in both targets now fully engaged.]

They stumbled towards the bed, still kissing, John pulling his jacket off as he did so. The edge of it banged against Kayleigh's shins before she expected it to, and she fell backwards onto it, bouncing slightly on the mattress. John leant over her as she scrambled up fully on top of it, not even getting under the sheets as she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt.

His chest was smooth, not entirely hairless, but mostly so, and her hands ran over its contours as he pressed down against her, stroking her cheek as they kissed again. She caressed his back, enjoying the feel of his skin and the warmth of his body. It was all new, all wonderful, and her mind was almost lost in the flood of desire.

John's other hand was on the side of her belly, pushing up the bottom of her top. He was trying to... well, of course he was, and wasn't that she wanted anyway? Feeling a little awkward, she let him pull back away from her enough that he could take her top in both hands, and pull it up over her head.

Suddenly shy again, her normal personality re-asserting itself for a moment, she quickly crossed her arms over her chest, and dipped her eyes, unable to meet his gaze. John paused, perhaps caught by surprise at her unexpected modesty, but then, without saying anything, tentatively kissed her again. Finding her response to that satisfactory, he cradled her head in his hands and lay back on top of her.

Her arms were between his body and her own, which felt uncomfortable. At first, she didn't really know what to do, other than respond to his kisses in kind, but, after a while, she took a deep breath and moved her arms away, placing her hands on the small of John's back, her breasts now pressed directly against his chest.

John's hands dipped down, moving over her sides, down to her hip, then up beneath her armpits. She did nothing to stop him as he ran one up over the side of her ample breast, now eager for him to continue. Even so, she gave a little gasp as he slid the hand between their bodies, first two fingers softly running over the hard nipple.

He pulled away for a second time, and this time she did nothing to hide her breasts from his gaze. Frozen in place for a second, John gave a wordless exhalation of delight, and Kayleigh felt her cheeks begin to colour again. He glanced up at her face, and seeing her expression, gave her a reassuring smile... then bent down and planted a soft kiss on one of her nipples, blue eyes watching her response as he did so.