Mike & Karen Ch. 25

"Not these fools," Alex laughed, watching his friends still labouring away to finish their horns, to prove to his mom they weren't wusses. "Don't worry, I put the kiddie-sized tankards behind the bar for next time, ladies."

"Oh, shut up, DeBourne," Anthony wheezed as he finished, shaking his head. That shit was strong! Alex and his dad did not fuck around. "You're sure he's your kid, ma'am? He can be a real jerk sometimes."

"I squeezed out that extinction-level event asteroid of a head, so fairly certain, yes," Karen laughed, enjoying herself. She liked Alex's friends, they were good for him. Even though he'd gone to a prestigious public school, he'd run the risk when he was young of being apart from his peers because of the privilege they knew he came from, and she and Mike had made sure he stayed acclimated to the real world and real people. He may have been a troll, but her son was one of the most level-headed people that she'd ever known (barring falling in love with his aunt). It made her proud. "Just wait until we have the apiaries on the go at the back of the property, we'll be making our own honey for mead."

"Remind me to bring my EpiPen, then," Ted muttered. "I don't even like dying in games, forget real life."

"That's enough Viking dew for me, I take my leave," Karen announced in her lyrical tone before sauntering toward the door. She turned and made a graceful gesture with her hand as she smiled gloriously. "Enjoy this room, gentlemen, it needs you to come alive. Namarie..."

There was absolute silence in the room as Karen disappeared from view. Without her, the air seemed somehow... heavier.

"Fucking Hell, your mom is hot, DeBourne," sighed Ted finally, as Alex collected their horns from them. "So not fair."

"You can fight my dad for her," Alex suggested. "He's a pretty good sport, and he's been known to loan her out."

They all gaped at him. "What?!" Dave exclaimed, his jaw almost on the floor.

"I'm joking, you fucktards," Alex laughed as he put the horns behind the bar. He'd see to them in a bit. "As if..."

"Not fair to get a man's hopes up, even for a microsecond," Ted grumbled.

"When you see anything resembling a man, let him know my mom's number," Alex kept teasing. "Damned if I know why she likes you goofballs, she seems to think you're a good influence on me, or that you keep me humble."

"Yeah, you, humble," Dave snorted. "With the hottest chick in the hemisphere for a wife, and the other hottest chick in the hemisphere for a mom. What've you got to be humble about?"

"There are people who are being unreasonably pissy about Alexa and myself," Alex said, coming from behind the bar and joining them. They were all silent for a moment, but they knew exactly what he meant. There'd been a sleazy campaign at the university by some haters to try and mock Alex and his aunt, discredit and shame them. They'd all seen the awful caricatures anonymously put up on campus billboards, or taped to lampposts, and walls, and the like. They portrayed their friend and his wife as inbred degenerates.

"Can we do anything, Alex?" Anthony asked finally.

Alex smiled at him, and there was an evil glint in his eye. "Yeah, stay outta the way. Trust me on this."

The young men were still examining the furnishings and making plans when Mike strode into the room, towering over everyone.

"Well now," he boomed, his hands on his hips. "I see the door works. To celebrate, who's up for a little mead?"

Alex laughed while his friends all groaned in despair.

***

1987...

"What I'm saying is that the world can't sustain this level of population growth," Lisa asserted as she sat at the cafeteria table with Janet, Mona, and Mike, tapping the textbook in front of her. "Nations in perpetual poverty are still increasing in size, while the first world does little or nothing of actual note about feeding them and keeps making sure they can't feed themselves. The planet will suffer a huge crisis by 2050, with a population north of twenty billion."

Mona and Janet, who seemed inclined to believe their activist and social studies friend, looked at Mike. "What do you think, brainiac?" asked the brunette.

"It's possible," Mike said, obviously in thought on the subject. "It's one possible model, barring no catastrophic events that reduce the world's numbers significantly."

"My professors seem to think there's a very good likelihood of it," Lisa replied, trying to not take umbrage at his statement. It was Mike, after all. The only time she'd ever been right and him wrong was during a game of Trivial Pursuit, and that was based on a rules technicality. "I kinda think of them as the experts on the matter."

"It's entirely possible, but it assumes no trend in socioeconomic balances," Mike said, still working something out in his head. "We haven't seen the effect of China's one-child policy yet, even if India keeps growing. And with more of the world's population achieving a viable middle class, we-"

"People out there are poorer than ever," Lisa almost hissed, leaning across the table. "The gap between the ultra-rich and the poverty-stricken is growing faster!"

"Agreed," Mike said, nodding. "Wealth disparity between the top and the bottom will continue to grow. But the number of people exiting poverty to join the middle class is also growing, and as those population blocs achieve some financial stability, they'll start having fewer children."

"What's that do for the people living in dirt hovels?" Lisa asked levelly, trying not to turn the colour of her hair. She wasn't used to Mike being so... unsympathetic. He was the first person she thought of when it came to looking after the downtrodden.

"Absolutely nothing," Mike said simply. "But we weren't discussing that, were we? We were talking about global population growth trends. And assuming the median class continues to grow..."

He stopped and closed his eyes, stroking his thumb along his chin and thinking. So many variables. Wars, advances in computer and automation technology, global warming rates accelerating...

The three girls just watched him intently. Mona had stopped drawing her assignment, while Janet put down her book. Lisa was almost holding her breath, even if she didn't know why. She certainly didn't want to be mad at him.

He opened his eyes some seconds later. "Assuming no real surprises, the world's population will level off at around twelve billion by 2040 and stay there. I'm not saying countries in the third world won't be suffering from horrifying overpopulation and rampant poverty, but it will average out. Yes, somewhere around twelve billion."

Lisa seemed somewhat perplexed. "I... can you show me that math? Assuming it's less complex than that shit you were doing the other day with Princess? I would really like to hit my professors with those numbers."

"I'll write it out for you tomorrow," he said, nodding. "But don't tell them it was me, just credit some random professor or something so that there's a chance they'll take it seriously and be objective."

"Okay, good, that was getting on my tits," Lisa sighed, slumping back in her chair. "They were really freaking me out."

"Well, something on your tits is better than nothing, babe," Janet teased, smirking at her friend.

"Hey, now!" Lisa said defensively, trying to not cover up her chest with her hands. "My boobs are small, but they're mighty."

"Don't you mean mighty small, Red?" Janet quipped while Mona tried not to snicker.

"Be nice, Remington," Karen said as she approached the table, assuming her habitual seat at the end. "Heyman may be irked, but that doesn't mean she's got anything to get off her chest."

"Oh, goodie, Wendy Whoppers to the rescue," the redhead grumbled while Mona and Janet both laughed at Karen's jest. "Like you know the struggle."

"Hold on, I think I've got an answer for this," Karen replied, backing away from the table slightly in her chair and taking a deep breath while her friends watched. She then leaned forward and down, so that her bust was below the table ledge. She made a show of lifting one of her massive orbs and letting it thump onto the surface, grunting slightly while she hefted the other, which also landed with a thud. She then lowered herself so that her forehead somehow touched the table, her enormous bust squashed beneath her.

"Gnnnnn," she moaned, rocking her head back and forth just a bit as she spoke to the table. "They're so heavy, all day... you guys have no idea how sore my back gets... and if I move faster than a jog, I'm risking a black eye... I'll be in a wheelchair when I'm fifty, I swear..."

"Hardy-har-har..." Lisa said sullenly, folding her arms across her chest and scowling at nothing while Karen sat up and resumed her normal posture, pleased with her performance. Janet and Mona were almost in tears from trying to not howl in laughter, while Mike was looking on from the other side of the table, smirking in amusement. "On behalf of the Itty-Bitty-Titty-Committee, you are not funny, Kar."

"Apparently the Academy begs to differ, my love," Karen said lightly as Mona handed her a hastily scribbled drawing of an Oscar statuette which she displayed to the others. "You like me. You really like me."

"What's with you these days, Princess?" Janet asked, finally getting control of her diaphragm. "You're almost as big a troll as DeBourne recently. I mean, not literally, but you're kinda on a roll."

"Oh, I don't know," replied the bronze-haired girl in a lilting tone one would associate with other practically perfect people, such as Mary Poppins. "Spring is upon us, even I am allowed to have a minor case of the sillies. But what were you discussing before my so-called 'whoppers' interrupted the proceedings?"

Lisa sighed. "I was explaining to Jerkules over there that my profs were hammering home the dire consequences of continuing overpopulation of our big blue marble, with a figure of over twenty billion by 2050."

Karen looked over at Mike curiously. "And you countered with... what, about twelve billion at some time prior, and just staying there right?"

Mike shrugged while Lisa threw her hands in the air and sunk in her chair, looking up dully at the ceiling. Mona and Janet just shook their heads. "Is there any class or subject I'm suited to that you two aren't better at?!"

"Hey, we feel for you, babe," Janet said with real sympathy. "Princess is correcting me at least once a week about my legal courses," Janet added. "I mean, I'm glad she does, so that I don't fuck up, but still... ugh."

"Same here," Mona said, patting Lisa's shoulder. "Y'know how annoying it is that this big lug knows things about animation and cartoons that I don't yet?"

"Sure, so annoyed that you go and spike yourself on that Pershing missile between his legs at every opportunity," Lisa groused, frowning at Mona. "You'd have a different perspective if you got smashed in the face with it."

"Or get my face napalmed by it," Mona mused, shrugging. "I know he's done it to Remington too, not just you, Red."

"Could we not talk about DeBourne's jizz on my face here in the cafeteria?" Lisa griped a little too loudly. Janet said nothing; she just seemed to be smiling distantly, like she was lost in a pleasant memory.

"His Cowper's gland should be declared a lethal weapon, I'll say that much, having seen the devastation it can wreak," Karen mentioned, unusually willing to be part of such a horrid conversation and sending both Mona and Janet into snicker fits again. The only one who seemed to be not involved was Mike, and he was happy to keep it that way. "To be fair, though, I've heard Red going on about this overpopulation thing and given it some thought already. But if DeBourne came to the same conclusion that I did and he just calculated on the spot... well, then very likely we're right."

"Hooray..." muttered Lisa, still looking to be disgruntled as she remained slumped in her chair, her arms folded across her apparently nonexistent chest.

"Y'know what I'm thinkin'," Mona said finally, standing up. "I've got an itch that could use some scratching, but I might need a Pershing missile to reach it."

"Omigosh, you too?" Janet said, grinning. "What a coinky-dink!"

She looked at Mike. "Hey, big man, I don't suppose you'd care to put that book down and rescue two damsels from their distress, would'ja?"

"I try at all times to remain preux chevalier," Mike replied, standing now and towering over them all, making at least three sets of knees weak. "And one is either preux, or one isn't."

"Whatever that means," Mona sighed, taking Janet's hand in hers and turning to walk off. "Stop by my room in ten minutes, Sir Diddle-us."

Once Janet and Mona were gone, Mike sighed and shook his head. "A man's gotta do who a man's gotta do. Heyman, I'll have those numbers and variables for you tomorrow."

He looked down at Karen, who returned his gaze. "I'm glad your calculations meshed with mine, it means I got it right. I couldn't ask for a better measure or reference."

"You're welcome," Karen said, trying not to blush. "Consider it payback for you being right about the hypersurface the other day."

He nodded and took his leave. Lisa sat quietly, staring at the table, her cold tofu 'yogurt' forgotten, seemingly. After maybe a minute, she turned and looked at her roommate. "Kar?"

Karen turned her head and looked at her dear friend. "Yes, darling?"

"Am I..." Lisa began, but then hesitated. "Am I any good at what I'm doing?"

Karen let out at little giggle and then leaned in, pressing her forehead to Lisa's and reaching up to caress the back of her neck lovingly.

"Lisa Ruthelyn Heyman," she said in a quiet, but affectionate voice. "You are going to change the world. DeBourne and I both understand that about you. Just because that giant sponge knows things the rest of us don't doesn't mean you're not on the right track to be the most amazing activist and champion of the downtrodden ever. Would I be crazy about you if you weren't?"

Karen kissed her nose and then got up to head off to another class. Lisa sat in silence for some time before a smile crept over her face. She stretched her arms over herself and let out a little contented squeak of a sigh, settling down low in her chair and resting, her hands on the back of her head.

Wait'll the Itty-Bitty-Titty-Committee hears about this... she thought happily.

***

Monday morning, the present, in a professor's office...

"You wanted to see me, Miss Blackwell? That is what you're calling yourself, yes?" the middle-aged man called Professor Byrne asked as he stood near a bookshelf.

"Yes sir," Alexa said readily, coming into the office after having closed the door. "That is indeed still my name."

"There are rumours floating around, of course, that you and young Mister DeBourne already consider yourselves married," he pointed out.

"Even if we do, sir, the law is the law, and we're looking to have it changed. Don't want this to be illegal, of course," the blonde girl said, leaning against his desk. She was wearing form-fitting jeans and fashionable boots, along with a long-sleeved shirt that laced up in the middle. Her long, golden-blonde hair cascaded down her back and well past her tight, toned behind. It was not unusual for young women in the university to dress this way, but on Alexa Blackwell, it was stunning and provocative beyond belief. "Not that we think it'll be easy."

"Marriage is a challenge, my dear, forget what you're proposing," Mr. Byrne explained. "Am I to understand that there have been no challenges between you as yet?"

Alexa paused for a moment. "A few, maybe," she admitted. "They've been difficult. I didn't expect a cakewalk, but..."

"I'm beginning to understand why you wanted to see me," he concluded, walking away from his bookshelf, but keeping his eyes fixed on her. She was incredible to look at. No harm in looking, right? Why was this fascinating creature here? "You have concerns and don't feel like you can express them to anyone closer, yes?"

"I... maybe?" she ventured. "I'm worried I might have concerns or doubts."

"And since my area of expertise is the psychology of interpersonal dynamics, you thought I might be able to help you," he said, smiling at her. "Very wise, my dear. And less expensive than counselors or therapists."

"Well, I doubt cost is a concern for my family," she said, shrugging. "But... I'd rather they not know, y'know?"

"Absolutely understandable," Mr. Byrne agreed, nodding sagely. "So then, I suggest you simply tell me what is concerning you, my dear. Leave awkwardness at the door and just be honest."

Alexa sighed, leaning against the desk a little harder. "I... when I lived in Europe, sir, I led a carefree and rather libertine lifestyle, if you understand me."

"I was no stranger to the exuberances and carefree expressions of youth," he assured her. "I was certainly not white as the driven snow before I met my wife."

"Well, I... I sometimes miss it, sir," she admitted, blushing. "I dated and made love to whomever I chose. That's a hard thing to give up."

"I remember it being, yes," he confirmed, nodding and moving a little closer. Something in her body language told him it was okay. "Living for oneself and then suddenly in a connubial bond, that is a big change. Not easy, and not always well thought out."

"I worry I might have jumped in a little quickly, I guess," Alexa murmured, looking at the floor. "It was a whirlwind of romance and hormones. With my own nephew."

"One doesn't like to judge, but I can see your quandary," he said easily. "I wish I could have advised you before you went down this road, warned you of the trials and heartache you were most likely to encounter. Frankly, incestuous unions, even avunculate ones, are almost invariably doomed."

"Really?" Alexa asked somewhat worriedly. "I mean... if it's bound to be a disaster, what... what do I do? This is on me."

"Your nephew, Alex, he is not without responsibility here, of course," the professor stated, holding up a finger. "I understand, you feel that since you are the older one, and technically the aunt, you feel like the burden is yours to bear. But there is only a year's difference and a bit in age between you, my dear. How much more life experience can you possibly have that him?"

"I guess."

"Was he a virgin before you became his paramour?" asked the professor, standing as close as he dared.

"Not even close," Alexa said, shaking her head. "Our sex is dynamite, sir."

"Sex is not enough to build a relationship on, no matter how good you think it is," Mr. Byrne said firmly, his eyes fixing on her to indicate he was serious. "If I may be blunt, the number of factors working against you both in this relationship far exceeds the number of factors in your favour. Youth, inexperience, consanguinity, the incredibly short period of time you've known one another... and an opulent lifestyle that, frankly, removes one from the objective truths of real life. What can possibly stand up to those challenges, Miss Blackwell?"

"I... I don't know..." Alexa said, blushing. "When you put it that way..."

"I'm sorry if I sound harsh," he continued, making his point. "I don't want to see this ruin your life, any more than it already is."

"Am I really doing the wrong thing, sir?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"I hate to ever draw things in black and white, right and wrong," he replied, trying to sound sympathetic. "But this may be one of those occasions, my dear, where to say something now prevents great agony later. You said it yourself, you led a carefree, beautiful life back in Europe. To think of you in those environs..."

She seemed to smile at a memory. "Yeah, they were good times. I do miss them. I didn't have to answer to anyone about what I did, or who I did anything with."