Freewill Pt. 05

An unimaginable crime.

An unexpected hero.

An unbelievable reward.

Simon lived a comfortable life: a steady job; a wife that shared his interests; an active social life. Yet he knew deep down that something had gone awry; that perhaps the contentment he felt with his life was an illusion. That gnawing discomfort falls to the wayside, however, when his world is shattered after he crosses paths with a monster hell bent on committing a heinous crime; and his act of heroism attracts the attention of a divine presence who grants him literally unfathomable powers in recognition of his sacrifice.

This sets Simon on an epic adventure of discovery as he tries to evade those furious at his heroic intervention, and shadowy government figures intent on discovering the 'secret' behind his new-found abilities. His quest will lead him to parts of the world he never knew existed as he experiences passion, joy, betrayal and heartache unlike anything he could have imagined. In the end, he will grapple with the question of if his 'gift' was in fact a curse, and if a man with his abilities can ever truly deserve happiness.

Freewill is the tale of a simple man given abilities which make him a god among men, and his journey to find the one thing his powers cannot grant ... but which all men desire.

Author's note:

This novel is a work of contemporary fantasy adventure. I've split it into five sections for publication here.

For fans of the Dean, this novel began as a thought experiment along the lines of, 'what if Stranger was about a regular guy being granted that powerset, instead of a man born on another planet and raised by aliens (not to mention swapping out a frankly unforgiveable amount of bigotry found in that seminal work with a whole heap of on-page sensuality and a sprinkling of ideas inspired by other works of popular fantasy)?' and grew from there.

Make no mistake, this novel delves into some weighty subject matter. Trigger warnings for significant on-page violence (including a mass shooting and multiple hate crimes), depression and suicidal ideation.

All sensuality (on page or otherwise) takes place between characters who are eighteen or older.

Forty-Nine

Simon awoke early the next morning, having opted to forgo the withdrawal his body craved to continue much needed repairs in favor of the singular pleasure of sleeping next to Nia. He had bathed in the beauty of her soul as they slumbered wrapped in each other's arms. He opened his eyes and gazed upon her still sleeping face. The beauty he found there filled him with contentment and a desire to stop at nothing to make her happy.

He remained motionless for many minutes, memorizing the way her flawless naked body felt nestled up against the crude matter which covered his skeleton. Her full breast rested heavy in one of his palms while her taunt belly slowly rose and fell beneath the other. Her rounded ass cradled his manhood deftly. But it was the tiny features which most fascinated him: the way the tiny hairs protruding from the ends of her braids tickled his chest whenever she moved; the way her hip moved in a tiny figure of eight in time with her breathing; the way she softly hummed with each exhale.

"Are you watching me sleep?" she murmured with a smile in her voice.

He chuckled and said, "It sounds kind of creepy when you say it like that. I was merely enjoying the way your unparalleled body looks and feels against me while you happened to not be awake."

"You could just say yes. I'm not upset. I'm glad you enjoy the view."

"More than anything. You're a work of art, my dear. We must steer clear of the museums while in this beautiful country lest I be accused of theft."

"Now you're just being ridiculous. But, speaking of museums, what should we do today? And please don't say stay here and fuck like rabbits all day. I'm obsessed with your marvelous penis, but my bits and pieces will take a little while to get into midseason form. I'd actually given half a thought to waking you up by going down on you, but you went and ruined it by waking up first."

"I could go back to sleep if you like."

Her shoulders shuddered as she chuckled silently. She murmured, "There will be plenty of time for fellatio later, dear man. And many other things. It always struck me as odd the fantasy of being woken up by your partner going down on you. I mean, I get the part where they're showing you how much they're into you by pleasuring you awake. But there are at least two problems with that."

"Do tell," Simon replied mirthfully.

"One, with what I suspect are extremely rare exceptions, the reason you wake someone up by going down on them is because you want to have sex. It's just a nicer way to ask then nudging someone's shoulder or, God forbid, just going to town on their unconscious body. That last one's for the fellas."

"The rapey fellas, if you ask me."

"You're not wrong. I mean, I'm all for giving a trusted partner a free pass. For instance, I feel completely comfortable telling you that you have carte blanche to do whatever you please to my body. But part of why I feel comfortable saying that is because I know you won't abuse it.

"The second issue with such a wake-up call is that almost without exception, the first thing I want to do when I wake up is pee. I'd also, if I had my druthers, like to freshen up a bit before you get your mouth, or really any part of you, near my lady garden. Speaking of which, I need to visit the little girls room."

Simon climbed from the bed and offered his hand to Nia. She accepted it with a smile, giving him a brief kiss for his effort. She emerged from the bathroom several moments later, still wearing not so much as a pair of earrings, to find Simon consulting the room service menu. She sauntered over to him and peered over his shoulder.

She said, "What looks good?"

He gazed longingly at her full breasts, which just happened to be at eye level. He murmured, "Quite a bit."

"I meant for food, you cad."

"I'm still running at a deficit from rebuilding my body, so I was kind of thinking of ordering everything. What do you think?"

"I think it's unbelievable how much you can eat. If I'd eaten a tenth of what you had for lunch yesterday, I would have required medical attention. Where do you put it all?"

"Since I'm still replenishing lost tissue, I convert most of it to biomass and allocate it rather than trying to digest it."

"But... how. I mean, you're still a man." She sat down next to him on the couch and rubbed along his inner thigh, causing the outward manifestation of his gender to take immediate notice. "How can you do things which should be physiologically impossible?"

"It's part of the gift that I was given. I'm able to, when I focus, control aspects of my body that should be autonomous. You could do it too, if I taught you the First Language."

"I could never learn it," she scoffed. "I couldn't even get my arms around Spanish, despite taking four years of it in high school."

"Well, my method of teaching is a bit different."

"How so?"

"The biggest part is that you can already understand, at least on an emotional level, the language. So when I speak it, you're not just hearing gibberish. The other part is that we would just lie in bed, or on the couch. Anywhere where you're comfortable and there aren't any distractions. Then I just talk to you, like I'm doing now, and your brain will start to absorb it. With Dani, she was able to repeat a few phrases within the first week. By the time we got to week ten, she was thinking in it."

"And she can do the same stuff to her body you can?"

He said, "Some. She grew her hair nearly a meter in a couple months. She also added a cup size, although I assure you that I actively discouraged her from doing so."

"Why? I know you love boobs."

"Because I didn't want her to feel like she wasn't beautiful enough for me. I softened my stance when she told me I had nothing to do with it, it was something she wanted to do to feel better about her body. What will you change when you start learning the First Language?"

"That is a huge assumption there, mister."

"Do you want to learn it?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? Of course, I do. Being able to heal myself, not to mention other changes? It would almost be worth it for me to go from a D to an F cup, just to see if your magnificent cock would explode when you saw them."

"Please don't. You wonderful ladies are going to give me a complex about my appreciation of the female form."

"We can't have that, now can we? But that begs another question which I can't help but wonder about, although I swear to holy Muhammed that there is really, really no wrong answer."

Simon waited a beat before saying, "And that is?"

"Did you make your orgasm-giving, magic wand of a cock any bigger?"

"Oh. That."

"Meaning yes," Nia said with a chuckle. "It's ok, baby. Considering not only our society's obsession with size but also how depressingly common females are to make judgements about such things, I could hardly blame you."

"I really didn't," Simon said softly. "Except for the part where I weighed about twenty kilos more before all this, so I shed a bit of the padding which was obscuring my pride and joy."

She took his hand and said, "I meant what I said last night, babe. I've never been able to cum from penetration before. Not even penetration with a side of digital stimulation. I just figured I wasn't wired that way and resolved to only date men who were willing to put in the work in other ways. The reason you succeeded when so many others... I mean, not so many others. Perhaps I should say where all others have failed. In any case, you did it not because of your length or your girth or anything else having to do with your remarkable cock other than the fact that it's attached to you. You made me feel like I was your whole world."

"You are," he said simply, squeezing her hand.

Her breath caught and she looked away quickly, bringing her hand up to wipe her cheeks. She looked back at him through moist eyes and smiled genuinely. She opened her mouth to speak, but then she seemed to think better of it and surged forward to meet his lips.

The sensation of her lips meeting his was like a bolt of lightning. He pulled her close and sighed as he felt her arms encircle him. He licked along the seam of her lips, and she opened her mouth to him. Their tongues slicked together daintily, the anxious anticipation of the previous evening replaced by something deeper and more sensual. He felt a tingling at the edge of his awareness, and he opened himself to her fully.

He was stunned to find that he could behold her true self, her soul, through their kiss. He had never experienced this sensation previously other than at the height of ecstasy. He reached out to embrace her, body and soul. She welcomed him just as openly, accepting his love.

She broke their kiss, severing their connection and leaving him hungering for more. She regarded him warily and said, "What was that?"

He said, "What did you feel?"

"I felt like I could see you, even though my eyes were closed. But you looked different. Like you were on fire, but you weren't burning."

He smiled and said, "That's never happened before. At least, not like that."

"How so?"

"With other lovers, it only happened during mutual orgasm. And only if we weren't using protection. And I was the only one who could feel it. I've never come close to that with a kiss."

"Well, to be fair, that was one hell of a kiss. Kinda makes me wish I was still on birth control."

He placed his forehead against hers. He whispered, "I'll never pressure you, honey."

"You're not. I'm just as curious as you are. Let's see what we can find when we go out later. In the meantime," she reached between them to grasp his throbbing shaft, "let's see if we can find this soldier a uniform. His country needs him."

Simon chuckled and reached behind him for a condom from the bedside table. He kissed Nia again as his hand sought the box he knew to be there. Finally, he found his prize and broke their kiss.

Nia said, "Um... when were you going to tell me you could do that?"

"Do what, I just reached for a condom."

"You're right. But the table is on the other side of the bed. I just watched it leap out of the box and into your hand."

"Whoa," he uttered reverently. "That's new."

"You're joking. That never happened before?"

"Not to my knowledge. I also have no idea how I did it."

"The engineer in me can imagine all sorts of tests we should run... later. Right now, I believe you owe me a deep dicking."

"Your way with words would make The Bard green with envy."

She swatted his chest and said, "Less talking, more fucking."

He flipped her over from where she had sat encircling his hips. She landed on the bed, on all fours. She gave him a predatory stare over her shoulder. He sidled up behind her on his knees as he slid the latex sheath over his pulsating member.

"What's your pleasure, beautiful? Slow and sexy or should we become intimately acquainted with this establishment's damage waiver policy?"

"If you don't have to help me off this bed later, I'll be sorely disappointed in both of us. Fuck me, Simon. Fuck me like you mean it."

"As you wish."

He grasped her hips firmly and buried himself within her in a single fervent thrust that caused her supple ass to jiggle with devastating sexiness. He reached forward to take hold of a mass of her braids, pulling them toward him until she arched her back. He began to thrust into her with a wildness he had not realized he was capable of. The suite was filled with his grunts of exertion and her moans of passion, not to mention the slamming of the headboard against the wall.

He reached down between them and teased her puckered star with his thumb. He felt excitement surge from her at the sensation. He licked his thumb before returning it to the apex of her delightfully rounded derriere. He pushed against her opening with each thrust, waiting for her to welcome his invasion.

He felt her excitement building with each impassioned stroke. Her moans had turned into a repeated litany of his name interspersed with a colorful assortment of profanity. He released her hair and pulled her torso up to meet his, groping her breast possessively with one hand as he continued to tease her asshole with the other.

He bent to kiss the side of her neck and whispered, "You're so fucking beautiful."

"You're so fucking good at this, babe. I'm so fucking close."

"I know. Cum for me, Nia. Cum all over my cock."

"I want you to cum with me," she panted.

"I'll always be with you."

He felt her pleasure surge as her orgasm took her. Wetness surged from where their centers were joined as he erupted deep within her. He held her against him as their shared pleasure continued, knowing that she was no longer capable of resisting gravity's sweet embrace. Her entire body spasmed in his embrace and her shuddering sigh filled him with contentment.

When their orgasms receded, he gently laid her down on the bed before smiling down at her slumbering form. He brushed a braid from her face before bending over to kiss her cheek.

"I love you," he whispered in the First Language. Another sigh of contentment escaped her lips, causing him to experience a level of happiness unlike anything he had ever dreamed possible. He gave her one last all-too-brief kiss before retiring to the living room to order them both some breakfast.

Fifty

"Leave her alone!" Simon shouted futilely, knowing his obvious terror would only spurn them forward but unable to watch Nia's torture silently.

His body had failed him completely. His mind was a maelstrom of terror and frustration. He was unable to force his mind to calm enough to form the words to end her pain. He also knew that even had he been able to speak the words, he had nowhere near the energy he would need to put the necessary force behind them. He was helpless. This alone would have been enough to despair, but the fact that his weakness was also condemning Nia was almost more than he could bear.

One of their captors approached him in response to his cry. He slid a wicked looking knife from its sheath and sliced open Simon's chest. Blood flowed down his chest, and he could see the white of one of his ribs with each shuddering breath.

Simon panted, "I will kill you if you harm her."

"We already done far more than harm her, boy. She was fun to play with, even if it did mean we had to sully ourselves with her."

Simon screamed until his lungs were devoid of air. Deep cuts opened on his arms as he raged against his bonds. In that moment, he would have gladly sacrificed his life if it meant ending the loathsome creature before him.

"Beloved," a voice whispered in the darkness.

Simon's bloodshot eyes tried desperately to find the source of the sweet sound. Shortly, the voice was given form and Nia was roughly dragged into the light and tied to a chair a few meters from Simon.

"Nia," he screamed hoarsely. "I'm so sorry, baby. This is all my fault."

"You freed my mind, Simon, and showed me what it truly means to love someone. I do not regret a moment of our time together."

"Nia," Simon gasped. "You can speak the First Language?"

She whispered, "Of course. Because of you."

"Compel them, honey. Force them to set you free."

"I am not strong enough. Even if I could, I would never leave you."

Tears streamed down Simon's face. He sobbed, "Please, baby. I don't have the strength to save you. But you're strong, stronger than I ever was. You can make them release you. I cannot bear the thought of my mistakes causing you harm."

"They cannot harm us, my love. Soon, we will be together. In a place where no shadows fall."

Simon's head sank onto his chest in apparent defeat. He heard their captors moving around the room, along with the sound of various pieces of furniture being repositioned. Simon slowed time as much as he dared. At the same time, he allowed himself to partially withdraw so that he could gather his strength. He immediately started to harvest energy from his body at a devastating rate. To an outsider, he would have appeared to slowly wither, like a corpse left in the desert for months. But, in Simon's case, it happened over the course of a few dozen seconds.

As he emerged, he felt pain coursing through his body like nothing he could have imagined. His bonds were no longer tight enough to hold him, but that hardly mattered since the muscles in his arms and legs had disappeared. He felt his system rapidly processing the biomass he had harvested, turning it into the last energy he would ever need. He reached out to his surroundings, gaining full measure of those around him and of the bonds holding his true love captive.

When he was finished, he whispered, "I'm so sorry for everything, Nia. I will love you, always."

A surge of energy coursed through his body as he prepared to send every atom of matter in the room other than his beloved to oblivion. He took a deep breath, giving thanks for all those he had loved and the love he had been fortunate enough to receive. He wished he could gaze once more at Nia, but his eyes no longer seemed to be functional. He instead cherished the flawless mental picture of her soul in his mind before regretfully setting it aside to focus on the grisly task at hand.

He started to take his last breath, but the most beautiful voice in the universe interrupted him. She screamed, "Simon!"

***

Simon's eyes snapped open to gaze upon Nia's terrified face. She anxiously gathered him into her arms as her tears spilled onto his cheeks. Her sobs shook his body as he slowly shook off the effects of the terrifying nightmare. His muscles were knotted as though he had run a marathon the day before and his mouth felt like cotton. He reached up weakly to cradle her face.

He whispered, "I'm so sorry, baby."

"Oh, honey," she moaned. "I was so worried."

He pulled her down to embrace her tightly. He said, "I should have warned you about my withdrawal period."

"It wasn't that," she stammered as she snuggled into his embrace. "You were screaming. And I don't mean regular talking in your sleep or maybe calling out once or twice. I mean, I got a bunch of calls from the hotel because the whole building thought I was killing you. And then you started moving things."

He shook his head in confusion and said, "You mean I was thrashing around?"

She shook her head against his chest and said, "No, I mean with your mind. Look around."

He did as instructed and saw that the room looked as though a hair band had stayed there. All of the furniture was out of place and two of the lamps were broken on the floor. The bed they laid on had moved from between the windows to up against the door to the bathroom.

"How?" he gasped.

"You, quite literally, took the words right out of my mouth. I wasn't too concerned when I woke up to find you doing your impression of a corpse. That was basically all I saw of you for the last couple weeks. But this... this is something quite a bit different."

"I'm so sorry, Nia. I had no idea this could happen. I feel terrible."

She sighed and said, "I'm not upset, Simon. I'm just terribly worried. For you. What happened?"

"It was the dream."

"The dream? As in a specific dream which is notable in your mind above all else?"

"Yeah," he replied simply. "I never dreamt much before the grokking. And since, I never dreamed. Until I came to Asia. Until I met..."

"Until you met me?" she finished. He nodded sullenly. She continued, "Am I in the dream?" Another nod from him preceded a sigh from her. She said, "I'm guessing, then, that it isn't a good dream."

"Far from it. But I've never known the... wherever I go when I'm withdrawn, to impact this plane of existence."

"Will you tell me about the dream?"

He shook his head petulantly and said, "No, it's too terrifying."

"Talking about it might help. I swear I won't judge you. I just want to be there for you."

He pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. He said, "Thank you. A friend who offers unconditional help is a treasure. I'm so lucky to have you in my life."

"Same here, handsome. Now, can I suggest we get cleaned up and consider relocating. I'm sure this," she gestured to the room around them, "won't be cheap. But I worry that the cops may show up after all the screaming and breaking stuff."

"Good plan. You want first go in the shower?"

"Only if you'll be in there with me," she replied with a wink.

***

Two weeks later found them in Tasmania's capital city. They had driven along the southern coast of Australia in a rented car. The trip had been leisurely, stopping whenever and wherever they wanted as they soaked up the gorgeous, and mostly empty, scenery. But, while the attractions they had seen had been remarkable and, in some cases, extremely memorable, the true gift of their journey was truly getting to know each other. And, happily, discovering that they were truly compatible in a way a couple can only discover by either traveling together or living together.

During their time on the mostly empty highway, he started Nia's First Language lessons. Much like Paige, she was a natural and rapidly picked up words and phrases. By the time they arrived in Melbourne, he had already had several occasions where he had uttered a term of affection for her in the First Language that he felt shy about saying in English only to have her reply with a playful 'Thank you'.

Simon had only allowed himself to sleep twice, both times when staying at a hotel that accepted cash and asked no questions. He tried to get Nia to stay in another room or, preferably, in another city, but she stalwartly refused. She insisted that he would be less likely to have the nightmare or do major property damage if she were there. Simon doubted this until she pointed out that his last nightmare had come while she was out of the room having breakfast and he had calmed instantly when she cradled him to her breast. Simon's doubt's diminished significantly after the first period of withdrawal passed dreamlessly, but his wariness remained.

What he had no doubts about was the fact that he was utterly and completely smitten with Nia. He had in his life known many types of love, many types of partnerships. With Casey he had had the comfortable, predictable existence of an animal in captivity: never in any danger but never content. With Karen he had known legendary levels of passion which he now knew he had mistaken for true love. With Max he had discovered what it truly meant to be intimate with someone. Their relationship was still, and always would be, one of his closest friendships. Their transition to, and back away from, intimacy had only strengthened their bond but they both knew from early on that true love for them would lie elsewhere. With Dani, he had discovered what it meant to be loved absolutely and the inherent burden that entailed if both partners did not feel the same. He loved Dani, and he knew he always would. But he also knew he could never love her the way she loved him. He could only hope that his absence could free her to find love elsewhere; and that that love would enrich her in ways he never could.

With Nia, he had found the best aspects of all his loves. She was just plain fun to be around, whether they were touring aboriginal ruins or driving silently through the badlands or lighting the sheets on fire with their passion. She challenged him to be a better person without allowing her steadfast affection for him to waver. She was in tune with his sense of humor and rarely failed to interject a pithy comment whether they were people watching or zoning out to a stupid reality show. Their passion also grew daily with each intimate liaison. It was as if they had already transcended the honeymoon phase of their relationship and moved into an existence which was passionate without being thirsty or needy. They made love often, but with the comfort of knowing they had all the time in the world to get to know each other. Simon was also mesmerized by the variety of their intimacy. Some days they would slowly make love on a blanket beneath the stars. Other times they would furiously fuck until one or both of them collapsed from exhaustion or the desperate need to physically recover.

But through it all was the growing bond between them. He had not yet voiced his love for her, at least in English. She had similarly said nothing, but he could feel her affection swell with each passing day. There was no longer any talk of their parting when their travels ended. They frequently talked about where they would travel to after they reached the southernmost point of Australia. Simon was patient. He could afford to be. Each moment of intimacy gave him renewed insight into her true feelings. He would wait until the moment was right rather than risk pressuring her into moving their relationship forward before she was ready.

Fifty-One

"My goodness," Nia breathed. "It really is like something straight out of Lord of the Rings."

"I think those were filmed in New Zealand," Simon pointed out.

"I know that. But... look at this place. It's like going back in time, and far into the future, and to another planet; all rolled into one."

"I can't argue with you there."

They stood on the summit of Cradle Mountain in northwest Tasmania. The scenery surrounding them was like nothing he had ever seen: a combination of volcanic and glacial activity through the millennia having constructed a landscape like nowhere else on earth. It took no effort to imagine a hoard of angry ogres or fanatical insectoid warriors surging over the horizon. Alternatively, it seemed just as likely that this was a place to which the gods came when they wanted to take a break from whatever it was they did, to enjoy a quiet moment of reflection.

He pulled Nia closer and said, "We should head back if we're to get to the bed and breakfast before nightfall."

She whispered, "Can we come back tomorrow?"

"And the day after that, and the day after that. Whatever your heart desires."

"Are you mocking me? I know we came here yesterday as well. I just feel such a pull to this place."

"Far from it, my dear. I couldn't agree more. I was just thinking that, were I some sort of demigod, this is exactly the type of place I'd choose for my fortress of solitude. It beats the hell out of the north pole. And its nearly as deserted."

"Who says you aren't? A demigod, that is."

"Well, me for one. I'd imagine most other people who haven't fallen victim to my admittedly limited charms would agree."

"They'd be wrong," she murmured as she snuggled against him. "And are you implying that you've tricked me into falling for you?"

He stared down at her in stunned surprise. She glanced up with a smile and gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. He smiled broadly, almost maniacally, before leaning down to kiss her gently. Their kiss quickly heated up as she opened her mouth to him, and her tongue slicked against his own. He wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her close, cherishing the softness of her lips and the eager questing of her tongue.

Her hands snaked around his waist and groped his ass. He smiled into their kiss before mirroring her actions and digging his fingers into what was, without any possibility of doubt, the finest ass in the universe. She moaned into their kiss as he kneaded her rounded cheeks through the thin material of her leggings. His hardness grew between them, and she ground her core against his thigh.

She broke the kiss, her hands fumbling with his zipper, and gasped, "I want you, Simon."

Any thought of modesty fled from his mind as she dropped to her knees and took his cock into the warm embrace of her mouth. He gazed down at her and saw the love he felt for her reflected in her eyes. She took his manhood to the back of her throat while furiously working to open the zipper of her hoodie. That accomplished, she yanked her tank top and bra out of the way to free her incomparable breasts. He was mesmerized by their motion as she bobbed her head.

He cupped her face with both hands to help keep her impressive main of hair, recently freed from the braids which she had worn since their first meeting, at bay. She smiled at him with her eyes as the head of his cock slid into her throat and she held it there for a few moments. The sensation was without parallel, and it was only Simon's expanded control over his body which prevented him from losing control.

She pulled back, releasing the head of his cock to take in a lungful of air. Simon dropped to his knees and kissed her deeply. She stroked his shaft with one hand while helping him pull down her leggings with the other. Once they were around her knees, she broke their kiss and spun around to get on all fours. She looked at him seductively over her shoulder and wiggled her ass lewdly at him.

Simon pushed his hands into his pocket to retrieve a condom but was horrified to find it missing. Then he remembered that they had made love while picnicking earlier that afternoon and he had neglected to pull a replacement condom from the stash he kept in his suitcase.

He frowned and said, "I'm so sorry honey. I forgot to grab another condom after our picnic."

She sighed and said, "I trust you, baby. I'm not even sure why we still bother. Your control puts porn stars to shame. Just pull out before you cum."

"But where..."

"I don't care. Anywhere but inside me. The birth control pills we picked up in Melbourne won't be fully effective until next month. Now, if you'd be so kind good sir, please fuck me silly with that magnificent cock of yours."

"As you wish," he sighed as he sank into her heated core.

He groaned with pleasure at the feeling of her exquisite velvety channel rippling against his manhood. His control was tested once again as she squeezed his length with her inner muscles. She gazed back at him flirtatiously and squeezed him again, reminding him of his mandate. He gripped her hips and began thrusting into her with gusto. She arched her back and moaned in pleasure as the head of his cock stroked her G-spot.

She threw her head back and shouted, "Oh fuck! Yes!"

He gripped her hair and pulled her closer. Wetness surged around his naked cock as it slammed into her soaked core. He knew her release was imminent. He pulled her closer until her back was pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and cradled her against him. He thrust deep into her womb a final time before he felt her orgasm overtake her.

"Simon," she gasped before her muscles failed her and she collapsed into his arms. He continued slowly thrusting into the core of her femininity as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. He could feel her essence bathing his manhood as she spasmed in his arms.

Her pleasure spiked again and he felt the ethereal plane beckoning him. He heeded the call and soon found himself wrapped in her soul's loving embrace. Their souls kissed unhurriedly, savoring the timeless moment.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered in her ear.

"So are you," she murmured as her orgasm began to recede.

As they returned to their physical bodies, he helped her turn around and took her into his arms. He kissed her hungrily, almost desperately. She sighed into his mouth, her arms gripping him eagerly. She broke their kiss panting, pressing her head against him as her hand sought out his throbbing hardness.

She winked and whispered, "Your turn, handsome."

As she started to kiss her way down his body, he felt a force pounding against his consciousness unlike anything he had ever experienced. He managed to gasp, "Nia," before the pain became too much to bear and he collapsed to the ground.

"Simon!" she cried before rushing to cradle his head in her arms. "What's wrong?"

He could not have spoken if his life depended on it. All he could feel was pain and his ears were filled with the sounds of human suffering. Tears streamed down his face unchecked and his muscles spasmed with the tension coursing through him.

"Simon, honey," Nia sobbed. "Please tell me what's wrong."

The terrifying sensation finally began to lessen, and he was at long last able to draw breath into his lungs. Nia hugged him to her breast and began stroking his hair as if he were a frightened child. He tried to speak, but she shushed him with a finger to his lips.

She said, "I'm here, baby. Just try to catch your breath. I'm not going anywhere."

He allowed the calming sensation of her presence to wash over him and felt the tension dissipate rapidly. He looked up to meet her eyes and he was struck anew at just how beautiful she was. He reached up to caress her cheek thankfully.

He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sound of his satellite phone ringing. He immediately grabbed for it, knowing that only a handful of people on the planet were capable of calling him on it, and all of them deserved his immediate attention. He saw it was Max calling and picked it up.

Before he could speak, he heard Paige's voice quaveringly say, "Simon? Are you ok?"

"Paige?" he asked hoarsely.

"You felt it too, didn't you?"

Dread shot down his spine at her words. He managed to whisper, "Max?"

"She's here with me. She felt it too, although not as strongly. We need to contact..."

"Dani. Oh fuck, honey. It can't be. Jo's got a whole team focused on protecting the compound. Of all of us, she should be the safest."

"We must contact her, Simon. I fear something terrible has happened."

***

The destruction surrounding them was complete. No building had been spared some degree of damage and several had been destroyed beyond recognition. It was like a warzone. The aftermath reeked of the smell of gunpowder and burning flesh. Figures moved amongst the smoking rubble, some seeking out a lost treasure while others just tried to come to grips with the horrible totality of it all.

A touch at his back jolted Simon from his numb reverie. He turned around to find Rene looking small and vulnerable behind him, the angry cut on her face serving as yet another reminder of the tragedy which had occurred.

She whispered, "We have found her, Satay."

He nodded numbly and said, "We should find the others."

"They await your arrival."

Simon followed Rene across the compound, his spirit dealt yet another blow at the sight of her mangled right arm. She led him to the building where the ritual in which Simon participated had occurred. Max and Paige stood with their arms around each other before the remains of the building. Nia stood close by them; her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. Upon seeing him, Nia hurried to his side.

"I'm so sorry, honey," she murmured as he wrapped an arm around her.

Simon nodded to Rene, who calmly called out, "We are ready."

Four figures emerged from the ruins of the building bearing a litter between them. On the litter was the unmistakable shape of a body, covered by a blood-stained sheet. Simon approached with his loved ones at his side and nodded at the four acolytes. They pulled the corner of the sheet back to reveal Dani's face. Her serene expression stood in stark contrast to the devastation surrounding them.

"How did it happen?" he asked quietly.

"She saved us, Satay. She turned the tide, but the toll on her body was too much for her to bear. When the last few attackers broke into her room, she was unable to resist them."

He said, "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Do not be troubled, Satay. She is still with me here," Rene responded confidently pointing to her heart. "Our love will persevere, and we will be rejoined when I am done with this body."

He heard Nia sob at her side and pulled her closer. Nia then reached out to pull Rene into their embrace. The smaller woman sobbed softly between them. He felt Max and Paige join their circle, along with the acolytes who had carried Dani's body. Soon, others from around the compound began to join them until all those present were sharing their grief and allowing the community to strengthen them.

At length, they carried Dani's body to the pyre that had been prepared. All told, the school had suffered eleven casualties. All of the bodies were placed reverently upon the pyre with Dani's given a place of honor at its center.

As they prepared to bid farewell to the bodies of their fallen loved ones, they heard the sound of an engine approaching. Simon glanced over to see a grief-stricken Jo at the wheel of the vehicle. Simon broke away from the students and his loved ones to approach the car. Jo emerged and stood beside the vehicle with his head bowed. Simon approached him slowly, unsure of what to say.

Jo said, "I have failed you."

"How do you figure?" Simon asked gruffly.

"You paid me to keep these people safe. Her most of all."

"What happened?"

Jo's shoulders shuddered in a silent sob. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. He began softly, "They came in on foot, which kept them from being detected on radar or by our listening posts. There were one-hundred and seven in all."

"How can you be certain?"

"Because none escaped. The silent alarm was tripped at fourteen minutes after three in the morning. Our first team arrived on station four minutes later to find a firefight already in progress."

"What were they fighting back with? There were no guns here."

"You would know the answer to that better than I. I arrived seven minutes after the silent alarm with two fire teams. At that point, there were only a few dozen attackers left. We engaged them without prejudice, killing them all. The ones that Dani and her inner circle dispatched are impossible to miss."

"What do you mean?" Paige asked softly, having arrived with Nia and Max at Simon's side shortly after Jo began speaking.

"She took their hearts, ma'am."

Paige said, "Brilliant."

Nia and Max looked at each other in confusion, having understood nothing of the exchange which had taken place entirely in Tagalog.

Paige turned to them and said, "Dani turned their hearts, rather than their entire bodies. It would have taken less energy, allowing her to deal with more of them."

"I should have been here," Jo continued. "I should have insisted on having a team on site. Then..."

"Then this still would have happened," Simon finished. "Likely with the same result. Your guys are good, my friend. But what chance do a handful of men have against an entire company of attackers?"

"I'll never forgive myself, Simon. I swore I'd protect her. I failed her."

Simon sighed and said, "Dare I ask who was responsible?"

Jo gestured in the direction of a pile of bodies the size of a semi-trailer. He said, "They were not uniformed, but the tattoos on several perpetrators leave little doubt as to their sympathies."

"Did we have any warning something like this was afoot?"

"None," Jo said sincerely. "Nothing at all. I can't imagine how they mounted an operation of this size without us hearing anything."

Paige interjected, "Because they don't always use the internet to organize. Sometimes, it is more akin to the event which nearly claimed Simon's life. Just a bunch of dumb hicks getting together in the woods and planning mayhem. They likely came here as part of some sort of mission to avoid attracting attention. And it's not like they'd have trouble getting the guns once they got here. This isn't exactly an altogether peaceful part of the world."

Simon said, "Is it even possible this wasn't an attempt to get revenge on me for Oklahoma and the nightclub shooting?"

Jo shook his head and said, "I think we'd have to consider that unlikely."

"That's what I was afraid of." He placed a hand on Jo's shoulder and said, "You cannot blame yourself, my friend. This was not your fault. It was mine."

Fifty-Two

The helpful looking young man behind the counter at the private terminal glanced up from his computer and said, "Where would you like to go this evening, mister... um..."

"We haven't decided yet," Simon snapped in Afrikaans. "Just make sure you're fully fueled, and we'll figure it out once we're offshore."

"It doesn't really work like that. We have to file a..."

"Just do it," Simon growled.

The man's eyes glazed over momentarily before he began typing on his keyboard.

Nia said, "What's going on, baby?"

"Just trying to keep a low profile."

They waited for a few moments until they were told they could board. Upon entering the plane, the pilot greeting them and said, "So, where we headed?"

"East," Simon replied shortly.

"Oh Kay," the pilot drawled before heading into the cockpit.

"Feels like you're going to have to tell them eventually," Nia observed.

Simon whirled on her and said, "I'm doing this for you, Nia. If they had anyone watching the compound, they know you're with me now."

She took his hand patiently and said, "It was just a dream, baby. Nothing's going to happen to me."

"That's a pretty preposterous thing to say considering what we just witnessed, don't you think?"

Her face fell and she sank back into her seat. He reached out to take her hand and said, "I'm sorry, honey. I'm just so fucking worried about you. About all of you."

"I know you are. Just as I'm worried about you. You have to stop blaming yourself for this."

Simon took her hand silently but said nothing. He knew the truth of the matter and a week worth of attempts on the parts of Rene, Max, Paige and, most especially, Nia had done nothing to dissuade him. He was pleased that Max and Paige had convinced Rene and a few other members of the highest circles to come with them to Patagonia. He could think of no better place than one of the least populated places on Earth for them to lay low.

The plane took off and turned toward the rising sun. Once they were over water, the pilot came back again and asked for a destination. Simon said, "Perth."

"Not in this plane," the pilot said quickly. "We've got a cruising range of maybe four-thousand kilometers."

"So where does that leave us?"

"Well, we could make Madagascar without trouble, obviously. Or the Seychelles. In theory, we could stop for fuel in a couple islands along the way and make Perth in three hops, but it'll take us three days to do it since we'll have twelve hours of mandated rest at each stop. Normally, you could take on a new flight crew at each stop but that will be a challenge in what is basically the middle of fucking nowhere."

"We don't have time for that. What about India?"

"Still too far. Face it, mister. With this plane, and the fuel we've already burned up, you're limited to basically southeastern Africa or a handful of islands within our admittedly limited range."

"Fuck. Fine. Tell me about Seychelles."

***

"This place is beautiful," Nia gushed the next day as they strolled along the beach of their resort. "It looks just like St. Barths. How have I never heard about this place?"

Simon said, "According to the brochure I snagged from the lobby, this place is kind of the Virgin Islands analogue for Europeans. They flock to this place when they're on quote holiday unquote."

"I can see why."

She was quiet for a few moments as they strolled along the sand, seemingly content to enjoy the picturesque scenery, but Simon could sense the tension in her every movement. He stopped at a particularly empty stretch of beach and gestured for her to sit. He took a seat beside her and put his arm around her. She leaned up against him, causing him to once again recognize that she fit against him like they were a matched set.

"I feel like I owe you an apology," he began simply.

"Hey," she began. "It's ok. I totally understand why you've been a little off. What we saw in Rwanda... well... I wouldn't have wished that on my worst enemy."

"I know. That's why I'm so sorry I put you in this position."

She turned to face him and firmly said, "Don't do that. You didn't inflict this on me. I wanted to come. I'd never have forgiven myself if I let you face that alone. I'm not sure what one would call our relationship right now, but we're way past boyfriend girlfriend. Whatever comes, Simon. We face it together. "

"I don't deserve you," he sighed as his eyes looked back out to the waves.

"As long as we both feel that way, I suppose its ok."

He groaned in frustration at her irrepressible reasonableness. "No. I meant, I don't deserve to be with you. Because you're in danger when you're with me, and I don't know that I can protect you."

"I understand there's danger, Simon. There's danger getting in a car and driving to work every morning. But it's an acceptable risk."

"People aren't actively hunting you when you're driving to work, honey."

"Perhaps. But that's beside the point. I'm here because there's no where I'd rather be than by your side. These last few weeks have been the best of my life."

"Mine too, honey."

"I know," she said warmly. "What we have is special. And no amount of angry bigotry is going to scare me away."

Simon pulled her closer, the gut-wrenching fear he felt at the danger her conviction put her in overshadowed by the happiness he felt by having her at his side. He silently vowed to never allow anything to happen to her, no matter the cost.

They resumed their walk, making their way along the periphery of the resort until they reached a walkway which led them in the direction of their cabana. Upon arrival, they ordered a light supper through room service and prepared to retire early. Simon flipped on the television intending to queue up some mindless show they could veg out to before bed, but his attention was quickly drawn to a BBC news programme the screen started playing as soon as he turned it on. It concerned a much-hyped gathering of American conservatives in the Carolinas during the upcoming weekend. He watched with rapt fascination as the presenter discussed the expected speakers, her distain for such open acceptance by the American conservative movement of so many self-professed fascists and racists on clear display. He quickly reached for his laptop.

When Nia returned to the room he scarcely even noticed.

At length, she said, "What are you working on?"

He glanced at her guiltily before saying, "Listen, I realized I need to take a quick trip. Can you just stay here for a few days and wait for me?"

"Um... what?"

"There's something I need to take care of, honey. I'll be back the beginning of next week."

She huffed and said, "Did we not just talk about how what we have is special? How I go wherever you go? How, in the span of ten minutes, do we go from that to, 'Hey babe... gonna need you to hang loose here in the middle of the Indian fucking Ocean by yourself for a week or so... gotta quote take care of some stuff unquote even though I clearly have no interest in discussing with you, my partner, what the fuck I'm actually doing'. That about sum it up?"

She sank back into the couch and crossed her arms angrily.

He reached out to take her hand which she made no move to offer him. He said, "I'm sorry."

Her posture softened somewhat. She said, "Prove it. Tell me what's going on."

He said, "There's this gathering. It's this weekend in Charlotte. All the major conservative leaders will be there. And they've invited all the preeminent white supremacists in the country to attend. All my enemies, all those who were responsible for the death of Dani and the others. All in one place. There's no way they could stop me."

She regarded him for a few moments before saying, "How do you know the people who sent the attackers will be there?"

"In truth, there's no way to know. But even if the men attending weren't directly responsible, those who did plan the attack certainly look to these men for guidance and inspiration."

"I can't imagine what you're going through, Simon. But this feels like desperation. You're talking about cold-blooded murder of God knows how many people. And you can't even be certain that it will actually help anything. For all you know, it could make things a lot worse."

"I can't just continue to wait for the next attack, Nia. I can't assume that the next time they find me, find us, that I'll be able to stop them. I won't let them hurt you, baby. I won't allow the nightmare to come true."

"I know you believe that. And I love how determined you are to protect me. Truly, I do. But do you truly think that this is why you were given this gift? To go on a killing spree?"

"It's what I did when you were taken," he offered sullenly.

"I know," she replied sadly. "And, obviously, I'm thankful you saved me, honey. But don't you get the fact that it wrecked me what you had to go through to do it? And I'm not just talking about your wounds, although those were awful. I'm talking about all the men you had to kill. It killed me what you must have gone through as a result of that. The anguish you must have felt at taking all those lives, no matter how justified. You're not an evil man, Simon. Far from it. I simply can't imagine what it must do to a person to have been forced into something like that."

Simon was stunned into silence. He instantly felt the truth of Nia's words, but he could not fathom how to break the news to her that he had not lost a second of sleep over the men he had killed. It had truly never even occurred to him that it was any different from killing a stinging insect. But as he thought about what he had done, he experienced a jolt of fear coursing through his body. What would Nia say, he wondered, if she knew he was not bothered by what he had done? Would she view him as no better than his enemies? He was terrified at the notion of pushing her away, but overriding that fear was the conviction that he felt with every fiber of his being. That being, if he truly loved her, as he felt certain he did, he must never lie to her, not even by omission.

He said, "We've discussed turning items in our First Language lessons. What do you remember from those talks?"

"That the act itself is relatively straightforward once you understand the basic principle. And, that in order to turn something, you must first gain a full... um... understanding of it?"

"Correct. You must fully be able to visualize something before turning it lest you inadvertently turn something which was not your intention. With inanimate objects, this is relatively simple." He picked up a coaster from the coffee table and turned it over. "I can look at this coaster and understand it fully in an instant." The coaster vanished from between his fingers.

"That's amazing, no matter how many times I see it."

"Indeed. In any case, it can be done easily once you fully understand something. Understand it so fully that it almost becomes part of yourself. I tell you this to explain that those men I turned, the men who took you, were evil beyond measure. I know that because before I could turn them, I had to fully internalize everything they were. Because of this, I know beyond any shadow of a doubt that they were truly evil men. The world is better for their absence."

"Then what of the stain it must place on your soul when you absorb the lives of so many evil men?"

Simon began to speak but then frowned as the weight of her words sank in. It had never occurred to him that there might be some negative consequence of the actions which had been forced upon him. He met her steady gaze and said, "I don't know, honey. Maybe it has done something to me, but I'm not sure how to tell. It was only a few days after I got out of the coma that the thing in Oklahoma happened. That's when I first turned a man. I never felt like I carried a mark as a result, but so much changed for me right around then, it's hard to tell."

"Then don't go, baby. Stay with me. Together, we'll figure out a way to keep all of us safe."

"What if there is no way other than going on offense? Haven't you ever heard the old phrase about how no department of defense ever won a war?"

"I know if feels like war, Simon. Especially after what happened at the compound. But I truly believe that taking the fight to them can only lead to things getting worse for us. There must be another way, especially considering you have no proof... none... that these people you're talking about assassinating are even responsible for what's happened to you."

"You don't understand, Nia. You weren't there, in Oklahoma. You didn't see the face of evil."

Her gaze turned hard. She growled, "Oh, really? You think I haven't seen the ugly face of American racism? You think just because I didn't grow up in the south that I was sheltered from being called things so vile that I didn't dare repeat them, even to my parents? I respect what you've gone through honey. But you don't know shit about racism in America."

"You're making my point for me, my dear. These people must be stopped."

"You can't stop stupid, Simon. There are millions of them and one of you. What are you going to do, invoke a jihad and kill every person in America with a racist thought in their head? That won't eradicate racism, it'll just make you as infamous as Pol Pot or Stalin. You have to show them a better way."

"I will," he said confidently. "I'll remove those who have convinced them that this is the only way to improve their own lives. Most of these people aren't evil, they're just ignorant and very impressionable. If the hateful mouthpieces are removed, they'll come to their senses. I just know they will."

"You can't do this, Simon. You're not this person. You can't be."

"I have to do this, Nia. Not just for us, but for everyone. I understand your reservations, and I sympathize. But I am certain that this is what is necessary. Now, are you with me or against me?"

She recoiled as though she had been slapped. She stared at him with an expression that nearly brought tears to his eyes. It was not the anger he had been prepared for, or the acceptance he had been hoping for. Instead, it was hurt. Devastating, soul-crushing hurt mixed with a dusting of shame and disappointment. She stood on wobbly legs and walked slowly into the bedroom, her head never turning to look in his direction. The door closed softly, which in a way felt more gutting to him than had she slammed it.

Fifty-Three

"Passport?" the bored looking customs officer intoned as Simon approached.

"You don't need to see my identification," Simon replied quietly whilst having to restrain himself from making an anti-clockwise swirling motion in the air with the last three fingers of his left hand.

"Oh, right. Well then, is your trip for business or pleasure?"

"I grow tired of this routine," Simon grumbled. "Just pass me through."

"Yes, sir. Welcome to the United States of America."

Simon picked up his small bag and walked purposely through the airport, thankful that he had managed to spend a few hours withdrawn during his trip thanks to the quote luxurious unquote pods in first class and a whispered compulsion to the head flight attendant.

He climbed aboard a bus outside of the terminal, greatly annoyed at the time he would lose navigating the city's woeful public transit system but willing to take the risk to keep his digital footprints as sparse as possible. He arrived at the hotel where the conference was being held. It was not hard to spot considering the loathsome flags being waved by the throngs of adoring fans surrounding the building. He made his way inside, bypassing the lobby and heading straight for the hotel manager's office. He found the office empty, so he sat down behind the desk to wait.

A few moments later, a harried looking man rushed in. He stopped short when he saw Simon and said, "The conference is downstairs, young man."

Simon took a moment to pat himself on the back. His disguise, such that it was, had involved shaving his head. He had also consumed slightly more than fifty thousand calories over the last thirty-six hours and had stored that biomass by bulking up his arm muscles. The result of which was that he now looked essentially indistinguishable from many of the conference attendees.

"I'm not here for the conference," Simon said reasonably. "I'd like you to give me Mr. Drumpf's room number."

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible," the manager snapped.

"Just do it," Simon growled.

The man's eyes glazed over. Simon could feel his resistance to the compulsion, so he focused even more energy on breaking down the man's opposition. In the end Simon won out, but he was left breathing heavily. Simon snatched the offered card and growled a compulsion that the manager forget him before stalking out of the office in the direction of the service elevator.

Moments later, he was on the top floor standing outside the room of his first target. He expanded his awareness briefly, discovering that there were two people inside the room. He briefly debated laying low until the man was alone but knew that every moment he spent in public increased his exposure.

Simon knocked firmly on the door. A muffled voice soon asked, "Who is it?"

"Open the door," Simon growled.

The door opened to reveal a woman who would have been at home on the pages of a major glamour magazine. She was dressed in a shockingly snug pantsuit with what Simon suspected was a thousand-dollar hairdo. She looked at him blankly, prompting Simon to push his way past her before pushing the door to the room closed.

A pompous looking man approached them and snapped, "Who the hell are you?" He turned to the woman and said, "Why'd you open the door, you dumb bitch?"

Simon muttered, "Hardly an appropriate way to speak to your wife."

The man turned to Simon and spat, "Get the hell out of here, meathead. You think just because I allow you people to support me that that means you ever get to actually speak to me? I will fucking end you!"

Simon took a deep breath and said, "You will both go into the bedroom, where you will stay until I summon you. You are not to speak, or do anything other than drink water and relieve yourself as necessary."

The two self-proclaimed rising stars of the conservative wing of American politics meekly walked into the suite's second bedroom and closed the door behind them. Simon took a moment of careful reflection to make available the continuous trickle of energy it would take to fuel the compulsion until he was done with them. He then sank into the couch for the first moment of true calm he had experienced since leaving the cabana he had shared with Nia in the dead of the night forty-two hours prior.

The thought of her reaction to the note he had left her, not to mention his absence, was guaranteed to send him spiraling into depression. He understood her objections and he loved her all the more for her efforts to, for lack of a better term, save his soul. But the longer he had sat in the darkness and pondered her words, the more he became convinced that his enemies would never stop coming after him until all of his loved ones were dead. He had then sought the refuge of sleep and had his worst nightmare yet. He viewed it as a sign and left moments later. Perhaps, he reflected, it was cowardice to leave behind his phone. He had told himself that it was an effort to make himself harder to trace. But in the quiet moments since, he had had difficulty convincing himself that it had not been more about preventing anyone from talking him out of his intended course of action.

He shook his head to clear away the distracting thoughts and reached for the open briefcase on the coffee table. In it was a detailed itinerary, not just of the public events but of private meetings the wastes of space in the next room had scheduled over the next two days. He was dismayed, but not surprised, to see that they were scheduled to meet with several known white supremacists, including one who loudly advocated in favor of forced sterilization of all non-whites or non-heterosexuals.

Simon began making notes and planning out an itinerary of his own, refining the general strategy which he had settled on during his flights. Based on what he was reading, he could expect the first visitor to the hotel suite in a little less than an hour. He took the opportunity to withdraw, setting his internal alarm clock for thirty minutes to give himself every possible opportunity to hone his focus and gather his energy.

He emerged feeling unrefreshed, the reverberations of yet another nightmare fresh in his head. He glanced around the room to find much of the furniture was displaced slightly but nothing was broken. He could only hope that his screaming had been confined to the dream. He sought out the sink, shakily drinking down a glass of water. He stared at the man he saw in the mirror and felt no recognition.

"What are you doing?" he uttered gruffly to the unfamiliar reflection. "What if she's right?"

He sighed, wondering if it was already too late. The effort it had taken him to arrive at this point, the endless compulsions that had been required, had left him weary in a way he could not ignore. Ever since Nia had put the idea in his head that the actions which he had initially noticed gave him fits of nausea were actually harming him on a deeper level, perhaps even permanently, he could not ignore how much worse he felt with each compulsion. He currently felt like he was suffering from the worst flu of his life, with a couple of severe ass-whoopings thrown in for good measure.

He took several deep breaths, psyching himself up before returning his eyes to the mirror. He said, "You're doing the right thing. All of this shit will go away once you've made the world a better place. Just stay in the pocket."

He sent the mirror to oblivion before it could cause any more trouble. He sat calmly in the suite's living room, waiting for the despicable person who was scheduled to arrive shortly.

***

The clock chimed midnight with Simon still in the suite and feeling worse than ever. He had taken meetings with all of the most influential white supremacists. The actual meetings were just those individuals standing like a statue in the entryway while Simon studied them until he had sufficient understanding to force them to play their part in his grand plan when the time was right.

But, as he reviewed his meeting notes and compared it with the conference's attendees, he realized he was still short a few notable individuals. He reviewed the calendar of his captives and determined that they had either not sought, or not been granted, an audience with the worst example of humanity the conference had to offer. He reluctantly entered the room where he had instructed them to stay. He found the man resting comfortably in the bed while the woman lay shivering on the floor.

Simon said, "What the fuck?"

"We did as you said," the man spat at him.

"I meant, why is your fucking wife sleeping on the fucking floor?"

"What do you care?"

Simon sighed and said, "Has it ever occurred to you to not be the worst person imaginable? I mean, I know who your daddy is and what a raging fuck head he is, but is this honestly your family's life strategy? Just be as shitty as possible to everyone you can, all the goddamned time? What about you?" Simon asked, turning to the woman cowering on the floor. "Don't you have any respect for yourself?"

"You think I want to be here? I hate him. But my father said if I didn't marry him, he'd disown me."

"Why do people follow you assholes?"

The man looked smug and said, "Because we tell them what they want to hear."

"Including the parts about encouraging the decimation of brown people by the police and the disenfranchisement of LGBTQ citizens?"

The man looked satisfied and said, "Whatever it takes."

"Isn't your cousin a lesbian?"

"So?"

Simon groaned in frustration and said, "You know what? Fuck it. You're beyond fucking redemption. You," he said, indicating the woman, "wait for me in the other room."

The man said, "Pretty sure she's cheated on me quite a bit. Might want to think twice before you stick your dick in her uppity ass."

"It didn't occur to you that she'd have a say in the matter?"

The man merely looked confused, leading Simon to leave the room and close the door behind him. He found the woman waiting in the living room. He studied her for several moments and thankfully confirmed his original suspicion. She was a shallow person, and a repugnant person, and an entitled person. But she was not, on the whole, an unredeemable person. He bid her to sit before taking a seat across from her.

He said, "If I told you that you could leave, where would you go?"

"To my house in the Hamptons. It's where I leave when he doesn't beckon me to his side."

"Why don't you divorce him? Surely you've satisfied your familial obligations by this point."

"I could, but I have no money of my own."

Simon scoffed and said, "So the only reason you're staying with the slime of humanity is because the alternative is that you'd have to work for a living?" She shrugged in acquiescence. "Well that just might be forced upon you after this weekend. Does that bother you? Or would you prefer to share his fate?"

"He can go to hell, for all I care. I wouldn't piss on him to put him out if he was on fire."

"How colorful. Tell me, do you know Mr. Ekud."

"Sure. Shithead in there's met with him a few times; raising money or looking for some kind of endorsement."

"Could you arrange a meeting with him?"

"I could try."

"Do it. I'd like him here as soon as possible."

She spent several minutes making phone calls before turning to Simon and saying. "You're in luck. He just finished up a meeting and he said he'd be willing to stop by before he turns in for the night. I had to tell him that dickless in there was going to endorse him tomorrow."

"Wouldn't that be something? Not like anything those maniacs do ever seems to hurt them in the eyes of their adoring fans. Listen, you can go. I suggest you get as far from here as possible."

She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

"Oh, and one more thing," Simon called out just before she reached the door. "Forget you ever met me. You're returning home because you fell ill. And, if it isn't too much to ask, try to be a decent person."

Simon felt a huge drain on his power at his last statement, so he mentally let it go and left her to just forget his face. He settled back, trying to center himself for his final meeting.

Shortly, there was a knock at the door. Simon opened the door and watched the man who had haunted his dreams since he first saw the news programme days earlier enter. He heard his retinue follow him into the suite, but he only had eyes for the man before him. He closed the door and followed the group of three down the hall. He saw the man turn to look at him in confusion.

Simon began to speak to compel them to be still, but he was interrupted by a woman's voice off to his left. His control vanished in an instant and he felt the walls closing in around him at the sound of her saying his name with a nervous stammer in her voice. He turned in that direction, almost unwilling to believe his eyes. It took several attempts for him to say anything. When he did, it was a single choked word.

"Karen?"

Fifty-Four

"What are you doing here?" Simon and Karen gasped simultaneously.

"What is the meaning of this?" Mr. Ekud thundered to no one in particular.

Simon glanced over his shoulder at him and said, "Sleep."

The man dropped to the floor like a stone, managing to hit his head on the table on his way down. Simon heard a growl behind him and saw what he could only presume was a security guard in the process of pointing the largest pistol Simon had ever seen directly at his head. Simon lackadaisically slowed down his time sense to give himself time to decide between sending the man, or just his gun, to oblivion. But, just as he reached out to begin the understanding which would be required, a nine-millimeter hole appeared in the middle of the man's forehead.

Simon turned to find Karen swinging the gun in his own direction. He left his time sense slowed long enough to dispose of the gun. Karen looked startled but then reached for her bag and before Simon knew it, she was pulling out an even larger gun. He removed it as well before returning his time sense to normal speed.

He said, "Would you stop that!"

She glared at him menacingly and said, "If you've ruined my mission, I swear I will kill you."

"What the hell are you talking about? And, at the risk of repeating myself, what are you doing here?"

She said, "I could ask you the same question. Hell, I did ask you the same question. Listen, you took all my guns..."

Simon felt a niggling of deception from her direction, so he quipped, "No I didn't."

"Fine. You didn't. But clearly guns are, at worst, a distraction for you. What I was trying to say was, why don't we just sit down and talk?"

"Fine," Simon snapped, still not altogether over the shock of seeing her. "You go first."

"I'm here for him," she said simply, indicating the man lying on the floor slowly bleeding from a head wound. "I was instructed to infiltrate his organization and managed to get myself appointed to be his personal secretary."

"Did you fuck his brains out and tell him you love him yet?" Simon muttered sullenly.

Karen looked forlorn and said, "I don't know what to say about Oklahoma, Simon, other than the fact that I was so happy that you escaped. Even if my superiors were furious that you basically blew the entire operation."

"What the actual fuck Karen? They were trying to hang me. Who the fuck do you work for that was in favor of that?"

"I can't tell you that."

Simon said, "I could make you tell me. Or you could just admit that you owe me that, and a fuck of a lot more. Tell your bosses I compelled you to speak if necessary. It's not like the collective that is the American white supremacist movement could hate me any more than they already do."

"You think I work for these people?" she asked scornfully.

"Name one shred of evidence to the contrary. You turned me over to the racists in Oklahoma. You're the personal secretary of one of the most influential racists in the country right now. Plus, your admitted devastation that I wasn't lynched live on the internet. Seems a pretty compelling case. Even this country's fucked-up, worthless court system would convict you."

"I can see how you would think that, based on your point of view." She thought for a moment, her eyes never leaving Simon's. At length, she said, "Ok. I'll tell you. I suppose I can forgo the normal threats about what happens if you repeat anything I'm about to tell you?"

Simon shrugged and said, "You can threaten whatever you like. You have no power over me."

To help make his point, he sent the body of the security guard to oblivion along with the three additional guns Karen had secreted about her person and in her bag. She gasped, her hand going to her lap at the sensation of the tiny derringer between her thighs disappearing.

She said, "You've come a long way since Oklahoma." Simon merely glared at her in response. She sighed and said, "I work for an organization. I won't tell you which one. It doesn't matter in any case. We are a clandestine group which reports directly to the President, but we are not subordinate to him. If he instructs us to do something which my boss disagrees with, Boss will tell him to go to hell.

"I was recruited from the military, as most of our members are. I was an Army Ranger who did three overseas tours. I met Boss at a bar in Columbus, outside Benning, after my third tour while I was trying to forget about what I'd seen, and done, in Kandahar. It took him a while, but he eventually recruited me. Obviously," she gestured to the room around them. "What hooked me was the undeniable truth of the futility of what the military was doing. Not only in Afghanistan, but around the world. Our men and women in uniform are the best in the world, bar none. But the rectal gazing know-nothings in Washington have demonstrated, over and over, that the only thing they can do consistently is to tie the arms of the military just enough to guarantee their failure.

"They want to have peace in the middle east, but they have no idea how to do it. Then, their tiny penises get all hard at the thought of how powerful they'll feel if they send a billion-dollars worth of weapons of war somewhere, along with the thousands of twenty-somethings required to operate them. They want the big explosions on the news. It makes them feel powerful. But then, these people whose homes are being destroyed because the fuck-heads in Washington didn't think to figure out where the actual bad guys were before they pointed their finger and said 'go kill some brown people' start fighting back. It's a vicious cycle that can never end so long as we continue to send the stupidest, most craven, most cowardly people in this country to Washington and giving them control over the most powerful military in the history of the world. Well, one of the most powerful.

"So, I took my discharge and went to work for Boss. We fight in the shadows, taking down the organizations doing the most harm in the world from the inside. And not through assassination, or at least not just through assassination. We figure out where their weaknesses are and exploit them. These groups are like a hydra, Simon. If you take out the leader, someone just as bad has replaced them before you can even report in. You have to ruin them in a way that makes it irrelevant who their leaders are."

Simon frowned and said, "I still don't understand what you were doing at that bar in Texas."

"I was instructed to protect you. We had intelligence that they'd try to take you out if you ever came out of the coma. I tried to keep tabs on you in the hospital, but you somehow went from 'still in a coma' to 'walked out the side door without anyone noticing' in about twenty minutes. That led to a pretty uncomfortable conversation with Boss."

"No, I mean what were you doing there the first time? The night of the shooting. If you went straight from the military to whatever this organization is that you're describing, you must have already been in their employ when we first met."

She said, "Oh, then. Well, we had been trying to infiltrate that cell of the white supremacist movement, a particularly militaristic one which called themselves The Base."

"You're joking," Simon said with a guffaw.

"Nope. Always struck me as a particularly dumb name, if you ask me."

"You think its dumb now, wait until you translate it to Arabic. Anyway, please continue."

She said, "We intercepted some chatter that suggested they had set their sights on the nightclub. I was instructed to be on site in case something happened."

"If you were there to stop the shooting, why'd you let me do it instead? I mean, I'm all for chivalry, but if you were a Ranger, you were certainly better equipped to stop him than I was."

"I didn't say I was there to stop him."

"Oh, right. You were meant to fuck his brains out and tell him you loved him. Sorry for interrupting. Do go on."

She sighed and said, "I did love you, Simon. Do love you. But my mission must always come first. I was at that ridiculous bar in case there was an opportunity to infiltrate this organization if they tried something at the nightclub. We knew that stopping them there, had we tried it, would have only led to them doing the same thing somewhere else. We needed to infiltrate them so we could destroy them from the inside and prevent all the other things they were hellbent on doing.

"When you told me you were going out to stop the shooter, I was worried for you. But, as I told you, I assumed you were at the very least a fellow Ranger. Who else would be fool enough to confront a man carrying all the weapons that guy had? I was also cheering for you. I wanted you to stop him, both for your sake and the sake of the innocent men at the night club."

"And because it would have helped your mission?"

"That mission was always a long-shot, and we knew it. We were desperate. I mean, nearly every possible outcome had that guy either offing himself, or getting killed by someone with a gun, or spending the rest of his life in jail. The real thing I was doing was watching the bar in hopes of spotting his support team."

"But there was just the one guy," Simon responded in confusion. "Otherwise, they would have succeeded."

"There were two men in the bar who were serving as lookouts. That's why you got shot. They texted the shooter, we think via a smart watch, to warn him about you. But I tagged them and was able to start making inroads into their organization."

"So," Simon filled in dejectedly. "You got them to trust you and waited for me to heal. Then, once I showed up, you started arranging to hand me over to them?"

"I was at the bar that night to meet them, not because I thought you'd show up. They never showed. But I was so happy you were ok. When I left with you that night, it wasn't because I was instructed to. It was because I wanted to. And I meant every word I said to you that night. Every word I've ever said to you."

Simon could sense no deception from her, which confused him greatly. He said, "I cannot square the circle in my brain of you sincerely telling me you loved me and then, just thirty-six hours later, handing me over to people who you had to know were intent on killing me."

"I did not know, could not have known, that that was how things would play out. I got a call the next morning from my contact. He had seen us together at the bar and threatened to sever our ties if I didn't hand you over. I reported in and was told to go ahead with the operation. It was the closest I ever came to quitting. But in the end, I knew the rightness of our mission. It broke my heart to betray you Simon, truly it did. I've learned since that even though I still believe what we did was the right decision, that I will bear the burden for that choice for the rest of my life."

"How can you say it was right? And what burden?"

"Five weeks ago, there was to have been a coordinated bombing on eleven historically black colleges throughout the south during football games. The projected death toll was in the tens of thousands. The contacts I made as a result of handing you over allowed me to collect sufficient intel that we were able to ensure not only the failure of the mission, but that both the perpetrators and the planners were exposed. Didn't you see anything about it on the news? Even the shitheads on the fascist networks managed to do a week's worth of programming condemning it."

"I've been a little busy. What with the leaving my home country forever because everyone here either wants me dead, present company included, or wants to dissect me for science. You still didn't say anything about this burden you claim to carry."

"I met someone. I was in Paris on holiday after we foiled the football bombings. He was really great, and we had a great time together. We spent two weeks on a grand tour through the south of France. He truly loved me. But every time he said he loved me, or did something particularly romantic, all I could see was your face."

There were tears in her eyes, but she proudly held his gaze.

He said, "You can't expect me to feel sorry for you."

"Of course not. I made my decision and I stand by it. I'm just telling you that that decision came with a cost. I say this because I cannot imagine your presence here is for anything other than the kind of act for which you will bear a burden. One which I suspect will be greater than you can imagine."

"You don't know anything about me," he snapped.

"I know I saw you kill over a hundred people in Oklahoma. And that your powers have grown significantly since then. I know that your school in Rwanda was attacked by a group adjacent to The Base, which we learned of after the attack when Boss was threatening to fire all of us for not seeing this coming. I'm sure you're devastated, rightly so. I imagine you're capable of killing all of these people on live TV. But I also know that you're not this person, Simon. You're not a killer. And I know that killing these people won't do any good. You'd turn them into martyrs and strengthen their cause."

"How so?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "What if their deaths aren't linked to me?"

"Right, like there's anyone else in the world that can make people disappear."

"I wasn't going to turn their bodies. Or, at least, not all of them."

"Same problem. As satisfying as it would be for all of their heads to disappear, you'll still just martyr them."

"But what if," Simon interjected realizing he truly wanted her feedback. "What if that piece of shit in the next room gets up for his speech Sunday afternoon and announces that he's in league with the worst of them. And he calls down the power of the almighty to bless their righteous cause and pass judgement on the sinners like he's some bible thumping moron at a revival. Then, just as he finishes, a three-centimeter by two-centimeter hole appears in the outer wall of the left ventricle of each of the eleven worst people at the conference."

"I see the poetry of it, Simon. Truly I do. Dummy in there asking for God's judgement, followed by all of them having simultaneous heart attacks? But the part you're missing is that their followers don't truly believe in God any more than they do. How could they? Even the most cynical reading of the bible clearly forbids everything they're doing. These people won't think for an instant that God has judged them. They'll suspect foul play immediately. And it won't take them long to decide that you were to blame. They're dumb hicks, Simon. But not that dumb."

"It'll still set them back," Simon offered petulantly.

"Would you like a list of the lieutenants who are ready to ascend to the throne if these people disappear? I assure you they're just as terrible as these men."

"What would you have me do, Karen? If that even is your name."

She said, "It is. Believe me or don't, but I have never lied to you, Simon. And I swear to you that what you're contemplating won't make you any safer. These groups, these terrorists, can be brought down. But not by killing their leaders and emboldening them. You must instead cripple them from the inside and show the world who they truly are."

"I could compel them to get up on stage tomorrow and to just be completely truthful."

"True, but it's not like they're really hiding their true nature. The exposure must be more visceral, laying bare for the world to see just how evil they are. Words mean nothing in this context. A million hits on the cable news shows of either of the pieces of shit you've got captive here never moved the needle, but video of thousands of pounds of explosive packed into tuba cases did.

"You cannot beat them at their own game. There's too many of them. And they have the benefit, if you could call it that, of being evil. Unlike you. Doing terrible things doesn't do to them what it does to you. I barely recognized you, Simon. And not because of this new face you're wearing. The burden of all you've done, all I'm sure you've been forced to do, is nearly all I can see at this point. I've seen it so many times with my comrades in arms. Good people aren't built to do the things that must be done in the shadows. It ruins them.

"That's why I was recruited, why I went to work for the company. I'm not a good person Simon. I believe in our cause, and I'll do whatever it takes to achieve it, as you found out all too personally. I've killed more people than I can remember. As you so sullenly speculated, I'll do whatever I have to, fuck whoever I have to, to achieve my objective. I'd willingly walk into a room where I was to be gang banged by dozens of horrible men just for the tiniest sliver of a chance that it would serve my mission. It isn't ideal. It's merely necessary.

"Your revulsion to me, to finding out who I truly am, only underscores the truth of what I'm saying. You'll destroy yourself if you follow through on your plans. And, for what? You're a smart guy Simon. You know what I'm saying about the ultimate futility of your intended course of action is true. Leave these assholes to us. Go back to her. You deserve happiness after all you've endured."

"How do you know..."

"I know everything. I've kept tabs on you. The company has. The fact that we felt it necessary to turn you over doesn't mean we liked it. We've done everything we could to protect you. We found out about the attack in Montenegro after it happened, but we helped get you out of the country afterward. We foiled three different attempts while you were in Dubai. Once you got to Africa, we started steadily funneling intel to Jo who, incidentally, is one of the best operators I've ever encountered. I even took a meeting with him about a month ago. Although, of course, he had no idea you and I had a past. We tried, Simon. Truly we did. Boss fired the whole analytical section after what happened in Rwanda. He also commissioned the deletion of everyone involved in the planning. I gladly handled the contract for the ringleader. His death was... not quick. We can't promise to keep you safe, but we'll do what we can. Now that we've spoken, we can start being less covert about getting relevant intel to you."

Simon dropped his head dejectedly and said, "You just expect me to fuck off back to the third world and trust you to keep them safe?"

"No. We can't promise that. But I swear that we will do all we can to help you. Just as I swear that this murder plot of yours will NOT keep them safe. It will put them in even more danger. And it will make keeping them safe irrelevant."

"How so?"

"You will lose her, Simon. All of them. Because they will not recognize you anymore. The man you were, then man she fell in love with, couldn't do this. Protecting her, saving her, is one thing. Premeditated mass murder is something else. Leave that to us." She stood up and crossed the room to where the racist lay crumpled in a heap on the floor. She pulled a small knife from between her breasts and stared down at him. She said, "Here, this one can be my peace offering to you. We hoped to pump him for more information, but we feel certain he contributed financially to the attack on your school." She slowly shoved the knife into the man's throat, opening his carotid artery. "Let me be the tip of the spear for you. I've already written my first-class ticket to hell, but you haven't. Go to her, Simon. Before it's too late."

Fifty-Five

Simon sat motionless on the bed in the cabana he had shared with Nia. His face was streaked with tears but was otherwise devoid of expression. A stranger finding him would have immediately summoned a doctor, or a coroner. After all, despite the tales told throughout the ages, human beings are typically incapable of being perfectly still. Simon was not withdrawn, preferring instead to inflict every second of this misery upon himself. He was also not breathing. Nor was his heart beating. It was as if he had been frozen by the gorgon. Pain coursed through his body as his cells screamed in agony.

In his hands, he held the note he had left her. It had drawn his eye immediately when he had dashed through the door two hours prior. Other than the note, which he had left on the coffee table in the living room and which he found on the bedside table, nothing had been disturbed. Their clothing was still hanging in the closet, their toiletries still set out neatly on the bathroom counter.

On the back of the note, which he had written out longhand and folded once, were written three words. Just three words that somehow conveyed a novel's worth of hurt and betrayal.

It read, 'how could you?'.

He knew she was gone. Knew it as surely as he had ever known anything. Her possessions remained, at least the things he had bought her. All she had taken, near as he could tell, was her purse.

He took a moment to offer a silent prayer, although he knew not to whom such a missive should be addressed. He gave thanks that his worst fears had not been realized. He had spent the many hours it took to return to Seychelles growing increasingly convinced that he would return to find that she had been found by his enemies. That, in his foolish absence, she would have fallen victim to the nightmare. He was oddly relieved to find that she had only left him, considering the alternative. He had somehow known that his betrayal eliminated the possibility that she had dutifully waited for him. In truth, he would not have fallen in love with her were she capable of such blind obedience.

The return trip had taken a painstaking fifty-one hours. He had only had to compel a single person, a man outside the conference's hotel who had the misfortune of resembling Simon's current appearance and being in possession of a passport. He would have compelled countless more, despite what he was now certain the cost would be to his soul. But he constantly found himself at the whim of mega corporations whose decision makers were far from his reach. He knew, regardless of how much his powers had grown, that he could not compel a jumbo jet to not need a new widget before it could cross an ocean.

Simon became aware of a person entering the room. The person approached him warily, shaking his shoulder with notable apprehension. Simon regretfully restarted his heart and other autonomic processes.

He gruffly whispered, "Can I help you?"

"Jesus!" the woman exclaimed as she jumped back. "I thought you were dead."

"Near enough. What do you want?"

"I was here to clean up. This cabana was only paid through last night. Check out time was two hours ago."

"Very well."

He stood stiffly and walked toward the door. The woman said, "What about your luggage? Your things?"

"Donate them."

"But sir... won't your wife..."

He hurried over to her, grasping her upper arms. He said, "Where is she? Have you seen her?"

"I don't know. I believe she left a few days ago. Nothing's changed in here since Thursday according to what I could tell. But I didn't see her leave. You're hurting my arm."

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," Simon gasped letting her go and taking a step back.

The woman said, "You still want us to get rid of all of your things?"

Simon nodded dispiritedly. The cleaning woman then left hurriedly, leaving Simon alone to wallow in misery.

***

By nightfall, Simon had made his way to the lower income part of the island, where those who made the million-dollar resorts possible eked out an existence. He was seated on a street corner absentmindedly wondering what he could do to make it more evident to the many obvious criminals he saw wondering through the streets that it was futile to attempt to rob him. He had a fresh cut on his chest, left by the last robber when the latter found out that Simon was, quite literally, in possession of nothing other than the clothes on his back. A not insignificant percentage of his thoughts were steering in the direction of hoping they'd do more than just wound him. He recognized the danger posed by his current mood, but he could not find it in himself to care.

He must have fallen asleep, although that had not been his intention. He awoke to the sounds of people scurrying away from him and a rickety corrugated metal roof in the building behind him collapsing in the wake of yet another nightmare. He angrily got up, furious with himself for allowing his weakness to harm people whose lives were already so difficult. He hurried down to the surface shipping port a few blocks away, theorizing that at least there the wanton destruction that followed him everywhere would hurt cash-flush corporations rather than the underprivileged people of the island.

He once again sank into a stupor, this time between two shipping containers in a dimly lit area, and pondered the import of the nightmare he had just had. Unlike the recurring nightmare he had had more and more vivid versions of since meeting Nia, this one included scores of nameless faces. Another change was that they were not being tortured or raped or otherwise brutalized. All of these people were already dead, their mangled, bloated bodies staring at him vacantly. As Simon stared at them in horror, each of them uttered one simple phrase: 'How could you?'

Try as he might, he was unable to decipher the meaning of the dream. Although, considering his abject failure at interpreting the last dream he likely would not have trusted his conclusion in any case.

In his life, Simon had known years of unremarkable comfort with Casey during which his unhappiness was only evident in hindsight. He had lived through years of mild neglect and loneliness as he navigated the rocks and shoals of high school. He had experienced terror several times when faced with those who wanted to see him dead. But until that moment huddled in a deserted shipping yard in Seychelles, he had never known the true depths of depression. He spent nearly twenty minutes staring at a discarded beer bottle; picturing the optimal way to break it to create a sufficiently sharp shard; exactly what spot, and how much pressure, would be ideal to pierce the skin and muscle of his thigh with said shard and sever his femoral artery; all the ways his loved ones would be better off once he was able to permanently prevent himself from hurting them.

His destructive reverie was interrupted by the sound of a painful exclamation. A loud squealing followed, followed by a few whispered oaths of disgust. Another squeal came soon after ending in a hollow thud.

Simon hurried in the direction of the noises through the maze of shipping containers. Moments later, he collided with a handful of underfed youths of indeterminate origin.

"Watch where you're going," one of them grunted in Somali.

Simon muttered, "Sorry," in English, meekly moving out of their way. As they hurried away, he focused on each of them in turn. He tamped down the urge to compel them to disclose their business, or even turn them. He knew he had nowhere close to the energy such an action would require. He just hoped he learned enough.

He moved in the direction from which the thugs had come, stopping at each container to focus on it and perceive if life existed within. He struck gold on the fourth container. He examined the padlock holding the door closed for several moments, trying to determine the smallest piece which, when removed, would render the device useless. He found it moments later and began to focus on collecting the energy he would need.

Nine-hundred-and-twenty-seven seconds later, the tiny pin which held the tumblers in place disappeared and the lock fell open. Simon took a deep breath and wiped the sweat of exertion from his brow. He looked around cautiously before sliding the lock from the bracket and unlatching the handle. He slowly opened the door, a foul stench assaulting his nose as soon as it opened. He peered inside to find dozens of faces staring back at him. No one spoke or moved for several seconds.

Simon finally whispered, "I'm here to rescue you?"

The women began to move around, almost as if wrestling to see who would be forced to come closest to the door. In the end, a woman of south Asian descent who looked no more than twenty was pushed to the front.

She whispered, "What is happening?" in Tamil.

"I want to set you free," he answered in the same language. "You're in Seychelles, and I'm not sure how long until your captors return."

Another woman joined her, looking far less bedraggled. She whispered in French, "You're not with them?"

"No! I heard the commotion and I managed to get the lock open. Can you lead these women to safety?"

She looked around through the crack in the door before whispering, "Yes. We're only a few minutes from my home."

She turned to the women behind her and gestured for them to follow. Simon counted twenty-six females between the ages of ten and thirty stream from the container. Each eyed him suspiciously as they passed. The last to leave was the Sri Lankan woman he had spoken to first.

She said, "That's the last of us. Thank you... um..."

"My name is not important. Just ensure those women get to safety."

"What about you?"

"I think I'm going to hang around. I want to make sure none of these other containers have anyone in them."

"Can I help?"

"No. Please, get going. You've been through enough."

She dropped her eyes and said, "Thank you," before hurrying to join the other departing women.

Simon made a quick check of the other containers, finding them thankfully empty, before returning to the one masquerading as a prison. He peered around inside, barely able to see anything by the pitiful illumination given off by a single bulb suspended from the ceiling. He spotted what passed for a privy in one corner, no doubt the source of the overwhelming odor. In another corner there was a stack of bottled water and military rations. Simon could see where the women had been sleeping based on a hasty collection of garments which likely served as pillows as far from the privy as possible.

"What the fuck is wrong with us?" he muttered. "How are we still the same hateful animals we were a thousand years ago?"

The heavens did not see fit to deliver him an answer, so he left the container and walked slowly from the port area. He made his way back toward the low-income area, there being no other logical path to leave the port other than the direction in which the human traffickers had gone. As he stumbled along the road, he became aware of a disturbance. He lifted his gaze to see a group of people walking toward him.

He sighed, numbly accepting whatever fate had in store for him. The first vanguard of the group reached him, and Simon felt a mixture of wonder and gratitude wafting off the man. Simon lifted his eyes to see that the faces quickly surrounding him were happy, even gleeful. He looked around in a confused attempt to figure out what had happened to make these downtrodden people so gleeful. The group parted to reveal the local woman he had freed from the container.

She said, "I'm so happy we found you. Thank you for saving me. For saving us."

"You're welcome," Simon muttered. "But this is hardly necessary."

"On the contrary," a barrel-chested man beside him rumbled. "We had everyone looking for my baby. But you found her. It was a miracle."

"Hardly. I'm just glad I could help."

"Nonsense. You will come with us. We're having a feast to celebrate her miraculous homecoming, and to honor the man who saved her and so many others."

Simon reluctantly agreed. As the group headed back from whence they had come, a stoop-shouldered woman sidled up to Simon and regarded him suspiciously. He tried to ignore her, but the intensity of her stare soon unnerved him to the point where he was tripping over his feet because he kept glancing in her direction.

He finally stopped and said, "What!"

She croaked, "How did you find them?"

He shrugged and said, "I was in the port. I heard a scream, followed by a slamming door. I just kept looking until I found the right container."

"Bullshit," the woman spat.

"What?"

"I spoke to those poor women. They were being silent as church mice, less their captors return and torture or rape them into silence as they had done countless times during their captivity. They made no sound," she drew out her words theatrically. "So how did you know where they were?"

"Lucky guess?"

"Again, bullshit."

"What do you want from me lady? I set them free. Isn't that a good thing?"

"Of course," she croaked. "I was just asking myself a question. A question that I thought perhaps you could answer."

"What's that?" Simon snapped impatiently.

"If you could find these girls in a shipyard full of containers with nary a peep from the captives, what's to stop you from finding my daughter?"

Fifty-Six

The zodiac driven by Philipe moved quietly through the inky darkness. Jo and Mel were crouched low along each gunwale and Simon sat huddled between them. They were lying in wait for a cargo ship exiting the Naf River between Bangladesh and Myanmar. Philipe made a clicking sound with his tongue and gently turned the craft using the electric motor to face in the direction of the approaching ship.

"Think this is the one?" Mel drawled laconically.

Simon concentrated for a few moments before whispering, "If this isn't them, then they're up to something just as bad. Let's take them. Just remember..."

"No killing," Mel finished. "We remember. Remind me of your policy on complete, systematic and totally accidental castration."

"Shh," Jo whispered fiercely.

"Right," Mel responded, albeit much more quietly. "Castration is fine as long as it's quiet. Got it."

Simon said, "We're just there to find the girls and get them out of there. Best case scenario, they never know we were there."

They waited for the ship to pass them before engaging the electric motor and pulling alongside. Simon glanced up and stared at the deck for several moments before nodding at Jo. The latter pulled out a gun which appeared to be purpose built for catching an orca, assuming your objective was for the orca to hunt you down and devour you. He fired the weapon and sent the grappling hook hurtling over the gunwale of the boat. He pulled the rope taunt and then quickly shimmied up the rope and over the side of the ship.

"I swear that man's part monkey," Mel whispered.

"Shh," Philipe whispered furiously.

Moments later, their wrist mounted communication units vibrated. They looked down to see Jo's message saying he had found the captives and instructing them to board using the aft smoking deck. Philipe maneuvered the craft across the wake of the cargo ship and moved them beneath the rear of the ship which was heavily laden enough to place the screws safely far below the waterline. Jo appeared at the railing and tossed down a rope ladder. Philipe secured it to the zodiac and Simon followed Mel up and onto the ship.

They moved past two crew members who would likely need medical attention for concussions but were otherwise unharmed. Jo led them into the bowels of the ship until they found a locked cargo area. Jo mimed putting his ear to the door before going to the end of the hall to stand guard. Mel took the other end of the hall while Simon reached out his awareness to attempt to determine what they would find on the other side of the door. The pain and suffering which he found nearly overwhelmed him. He was tempted to verify that the woman they sought was behind the door, but he quickly realized it was irrelevant. The people, almost certainly women, behind the door would be set free before they left regardless of who was actually being held captive.

Simon looked down to the screen on his arm and typed out, 'more than we thought/need new plan'.

Jo nodded grimly and gestured with his head back in the direction of the deck where they had boarded. Once there, he whispered, "How many?"

Simon said, "I'm not sure. At least a hundred."

"I meant how many other than the captives. How many men are on board?"

Simon concentrated for a moment before saying, "Sixteen, seven of which are likely in the dark about what they're carrying. The rest are either responsible for this abomination, or similar acts of cruelty."

"We need to take the ship," Jo said firmly.

Mel nodded and said, "No other way to get them to safety. It's not like there's a friendly harbor anywhere around here."

Simon nodded and said, "Any ideas?"

Mel said, "The no killing thing is gonna make this pretty hairy, boss."

Simon said, "We're the good guys here. We only kill to protect the captives. Or to protect one of you. Give me a moment."

He concentrated for considerably more than a moment, not opening his eyes again until four-hundred and eleven seconds had passed. He glanced at his nervous compatriots and said, "Sorry. Twelve of the sixteen, including all of the potential innocents, are now locked in whatever room they happened to be in. Two are patrolling on the upper deck. The other two are on the bridge where the door was blocked open."

"That makes things easier," Jo said with grim determination. "Let's tackle the bridge first."

They followed Jo's lead to the highest point of the ship. As they approached the bridge, they could hear two people chattering about a football match taking place the next day in Mumbai. Simon concentrated for a moment, before nodding to Jo and Mel. The latter two stormed onto the bridge and easily took the two men, who had received quite a shock when their clothing suddenly vanished, into custody. They bound and gagged them before taking them to a closet where Simon could lock them in. The takedown of the guards on deck was handled in a similar manner, albeit more easily as all Simon had to disappear were their guns in order to sufficiently distract them.

An hour later, the captives had been freed and were taking what comfort they could with being able to move freely around the ship. Nine of the sixteen crew were now enjoying the accommodations formerly afforded to the captives. Simon had interviewed each to determine their level of complicity. The remaining crewmen, having been sufficiently horrified at what they carried, had agreed to pilot the ship across the Bay of Bengal to India.

Simon, Jo and Mel left the ship the way they had boarded, in the company of one additional passenger.

***

The quiet conversation he had had with Mrs. Boulier two weeks prior had set a sequence of events in motion. She had explained how her daughter had also been kidnapped. She told him of her initial elation at the return of the kidnapped women, followed by the devastation upon discovering that her daughter was not amongst those rescued. She had pleaded with Simon to rescue her daughter as well. Simon had been unsure of whether he should get involved, or indeed if there was even anything he could do. The anguish she had displayed in response to his hesitation had driven him to tears. He had sworn to do everything in his power to find her daughter.

The woman's son, Philipe, had instantly volunteered his services. Simon had scoured the island in search of the woman's daughter, almost inadvertently breaking up two additional crime syndicates in the process. Upon realizing Mrs. Boulier's daughter had almost certainly been taken from the island, he had spent a full day withdrawn desperately searching for the missing woman. He had exhausted himself to the point where he required intravenous fluids, but he also had a single name stuck in his head. He had reached out to Jo, hoping to leverage his impressive intelligence network, and found him just as anxious as he was to somehow, anyhow, try to assuage the anguish they felt at all those they could not save. Jo's contacts had managed to trace down the person Simon had identified while withdrawn, which led them to the ship they had raided.

It took them two days to get back to Seychelles by private aircraft. They landed late at night to a lack of fanfare. An hour later, they pulled up to a nondescript domicile. Before Simon could knock on the door, or indeed even emerge from the taxi, people were streaming from the house with Mrs. Boulier in the lead. She looked at Simon expectedly. Simon, in turn, glanced back into the taxi where a young woman was emerging.

Some time later, Mrs. Boulier intercepted Simon as he tried to quietly exit via the back door. She said, "Where are you going? We've only just begun to celebrate."

"I know, Mrs. Boulier. I've very happy we were able to find Eva and return her home. But I don't belong here."

"Rubbish. You're why we're here, Mr. York. You saved her. You saved all of them."

Simon sighed, remembering the bodies they had found on the ship but not wanting to temper the celebration. He could think of nothing better than to repeat, "I don't belong here."

"Then where do you belong?" she asked gently.

"No where."

She said, "What of your family? Your friends?" Simon could only manage to shake his head. She continued, "I see. Well, you are always welcome here. Not just in my home, but anywhere on the island. Your money is no good here anymore."

"Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality."

He started to walk away again. She called, "Where will you go?" but Simon did not respond because that question had no answer. He could almost hear the sad piano music from the Bill Bixby show playing as he strolled aimlessly down the road. He had almost reached the airport when a car pulled up beside him and Jo climbed out. The car pulled away and Jo walked silently alongside him.

After several minutes, Jo said, "That felt good, didn't it?"

Simon shrugged and said, "It felt better than if we had failed. But she was still in captivity for almost a month. And that's to say nothing of all the ones those animals killed."

"The cargo shipped docked in India last night. I saw a story about it on the news. They said the women freed themselves and took over the ship. So perhaps our names will stay out of it."

"All that matters is that they were freed."

"Listen, Simon. I like you. I like working with you. But we can't keep going on these missions if you insist on operating with this fatalistic attitude. Makes those of us who aren't anxiously seeking death kind of nervous."

"I'm not seeking death."

Jo huffed and said, "Perhaps. But you certainly have no intention of evading it. Be honest, if things had gone sideways on that ship, you were prepared to sacrifice yourself to free those women. Am I right?" Simon sullenly remained silent. Jo continued, "If someone had put a gun to your head, would you have magicked the gun away? Or just calmly waited for death?"

"I don't know."

"At least you're honest. We've got an opportunity here, Simon. We can really do something about some of the terribleness in the world. It won't help... her. But I know its what she'd want us to do."

Simon stopped and said, "I'm sorry if you thought I put you or Mel in danger. That wasn't my intention. I just... I don't think I can kill anyone else. You know what I mean? I feel like I'm on a knife's edge here. If I falter, there will be no redemption for me. And I shudder to think of what the consequences could be if someone with my knowledge, my abilities, were to fall into the grasp of darkness." He turned to Jo with fire in his eyes. He said, "Promise me. Promise me if you ever think I'm going bad you'll take me out."

"Like I could ever hurt you. You have a power I don't understand, Simon. You can do things I can't even imagine."

"Promise me, Jo. I don't say this lightly, but you're the most capable and dangerous man I've ever met. If anyone could do it, it'd be you. Promise me, or I'll pull this car over right now."

Jo quirked an eyebrow, prompting Simon to say, "Sorry. I guess not all American expressions translate to Tagalog. I meant, if you can't promise me this then I'll have to end things right now."

"How? You've healed from wounds that would have killed any other man. And more than one of them."

Simon said, "It's easy. I just remove a part of my anatomy that can't be replaced or repaired in the time I'd have left before I discorporated. Such as a portion of my heart."

"That's pretty grim."

Simon sighed and said, "So is the prospect of me falling into darkness. On to other topics, what did you mean when you said we could do good in the world?"

Jo shrugged and said, "There are plenty of human traffickers out there. Not to mention pirates. I know there's crime everywhere, but I'm thinking about the bigger stuff. The stuff that takes a bunch of guys to pull off, and a bunch of rich assholes to fund it. You can figure out their secrets, see where they're hiding."

Simon pondered this before saying, "The mission on the ship was messy. We got pretty lucky they didn't get off a distress signal. Or even a shot."

"You're not wrong. But, with your abilities, we could find them before they even take their hostages. Then we wouldn't have to worry about hostages when we take them out."

"What'd you say?" Simon asked, once again coming to a halt.

"We stop them before they take the captives. I'm not talking about going after people for what they're thinking. This isn't some crazy sci-fi movie. I'm talking about people who have been there, done that. You point them out, me and my guys will take care of the rest."

"But no killing," Simon said sternly.

"Hey, anything's possible," Jo quipped, sticking out his hand with a smile on his face.

Simon regarded him for a moment before smiling wanly and taking his hand.

Fifty-Seven

Simon emerged from his daily period of withdrawal to the now accustomed feeling of exhaustion and despair. He stayed flat on his back for several moments waiting for his breathing to normalize. He could hear the customary crashing of waves and crumbling of concrete which corresponded with his periods of withdrawal. He risked opening his eyes and was faced with the brilliant copper of the setting sun reflecting off the sparse clouds above him. High above the clouds, he could see the deep cobalt of the sky as it approached the ionosphere. It occurred to him that at another time, he likely would have considered the scene beautiful.

He stood and did a quick inspection of his withdrawal platform, a man-made concrete island nearly a kilometer offshore. He could see where several cracks had developed along the leeward side of the structure and made a note to have someone take a look at it. His last such structure had only lasted three weeks but he had been assured this one should last at least twice as long due to heavier reinforcement.

He waved his arm over his head for a moment before sitting down on the edge of the platform and waiting. Several minutes later, a small power boat approached and pulled alongside. Simon hopped on board, nodding his thanks to the driver, before sitting down and starting to get dressed.

He watched the island that had been his home for over three months grow as they approached. Only slightly longer than a kilometer, and barely wide enough to host a decent game of football, it could barely be called an island. But the few hundred people who lived there couldn't imagine ever living anywhere else. Or, indeed, ever even leaving the island other than to seek their nourishment from the ocean.

Their love of this place explained their near deification of Simon, despite his efforts to get them to treat him like the loathsome creature he knew himself to be. He had come across this place shortly after he began working with Jo and his men to seek out and disrupt the work of evil men. A group of pirates had seized this island and were using it as a base. Simon had discovered it by chance, having been withdrawn and seeking out possible targets when their plane passed over the island on the way to Jakarta.

After their plane was forced to make an emergency landing, due to Simon's increasingly uncontrollable telekinesis while withdrawn having broken several of the plane's windows, they sought out the island. The pirates were quickly apprehended since they had apparently never even considered the possibility of a platoon of men whose armament and training exceeded special operations units would, quite literally, appear on their doorstep.

The people of the island treated Simon and his associates like something between honored guests and legitimate royalty. Only Simon lived on the island full time. Initially, Jo or one of his men had always kept one representative on station, but they hated the island, despite its beauty. It was not hard for Simon to understand why. There were no available women, due to the tiny population, and no internet. It was a place time forgot. It was perfect for Simon's needs.

He accepted the efforts of, and attention from, the islanders on his behalf reluctantly, and sparingly. They tried to cater to his every whim, to pamper him. But he eventually convinced them that all he required was a daily trip to and from his withdrawal platform. He would have driven himself, but they had lost four boats that way when the chaotic maelstrom of Simon's anguish capsized them.

He climbed from the boat as it reached the quay and trudged onto the island. Upon reaching the lean-to used to shelter his equipment, he opened the waterproof container where he kept his satellite phone. He established a connection and, after the operator confirmed that the recording had started, began to offload the information he had gathered during withdrawal. It took forty-seven minutes of uninterrupted speaking before he had finished.

After hanging up, he retrieved his cup and went to the community well in the center of the island. He gulped down several liters of water before pulling a pouch from his back pocket and, after tearing away the top, slurping it down. It had the consistency of warm, store-brand peanut butter and tasted like baby formula which had been left out in the sun. But it contained the fundamental ingredients his body required to continue functioning, albeit barely. He sent the foil ration packet to oblivion before returning to his lean-to and settling down for his regularly scheduled nightly session of mental self-flagellation.

His sat phone chirped, informing him that he had neglected to turn it off. The ringtone informed him that Max and/or Paige had grown weary of his latest attempt to brush them off. He had learned that nothing he could say did anything to assuage their worry about him, so he ignored the call. They had come to visit a few weeks prior. Initially, they had been happy to hear about his new purpose and the good he was doing. But that quickly turned to worry, and then to fear as their stay extended into its second day. They left a week later when he finally managed to convince them that nothing they could say would persuade him to change his ways.

The next morning's sunrise found Simon in the same spot outside his lean-to. It was steadily raining on the island but somehow the horizon was cloudless. It made for a spectacular sunrise, at least for the island's other denizens. He listened to the sounds of the island's residents awakening. The laughter and happiness of these people left unspoiled by the awfulness of modern life, and saved from the clutches of pirates by Simon's colleagues, was one of the few bright spots in his life.

Simon turned his head in the direction of the quay and waited for the figure who he knew would soon appear. Three minutes later, Jo finally emerged from the early morning gloom and approached him warily. Simon felt apprehension roiling off the man. When he came close enough to be heard over the rain without shouting, Simon snapped, "Why are you here? And, what are you so worried about?"

"Just making sure your alive, my friend."

"So it would seem. Did you intercept the plane in Yangon before it took off?"

Jo smiled wanly and said, "Of course we did. The fuel in their formerly topped-off engines had disappeared."

"Funny that. What about the five go-fast boats those pirates took possession of off the coast of Brunei?"

"You know what? That was my favorite one yet. How'd you cripple their motors like that?"

Simon shrugged and said, "The propellers on those motors had five blades. I figured they'd be fine with just four."

"Meaning they were unbalanced and tore the drive-shafts to pieces when they saw us coming and hit the gas. Nice, very nice."

Simon frowned, both at the banter and at the thoughts filling his head. He muttered, "Did you come up with a solution for boarding unsuspecting cargo ships who have been saddled with containers containing captives yet?"

"Still working on it. The tough part is that a lot of these ships are used to operating in pirate infested waters. So, if we board them, they're going to start shooting."

Simon said, "I could take their guns."

Jo said, "That's true. And their knives. But unless you're willing to put the idea in their heads that we aren't hostile, which I know you can do, they're going to fight to the death with whatever they can lay their hands on."

"I know. But I can't do it, Jo. I'm already so close to losing control. To falling into darkness. When I found out you were coming, I half figured you had decided it was time."

"You're such a fool," Jo muttered.

Simon said, "You don't have to tell me twice."

Jo sighed and said, "Why are you doing this to yourself? Torturing yourself day after day?"

"This is my purpose. It's why I was given this... gift. It's my penance."

"Oh, that's such bullshit!"

Simon shrugged, knowing from long experience exactly how this argument would play out.

Jo said, "What exactly did you do to earn this penance, Simon?"

"You wouldn't understand."

Jo groaned in frustration before leaping to his feet and beginning to pace on the sand. At length, he said, "Those girls love you, Simon. I saw them after you sent them away. They were crushed. But they haven't seen what I've seen, done what I've done. You might be able to brush them off by telling them they wouldn't understand, but that shit won't work with me. I understand perfectly. I've seen the ugliest parts of humanity. But, thanks to you, I've also saved thousands of innocents. How can you even think that you're meant to inflict this agony on yourself?"

"It's true, we've saved a lot of people. But there are so many more we didn't save. So many more we could have saved if I hadn't been such a fool. I see their families, Jo. Every day, when I'm searching out people in need. I see the mothers and fathers whose daughters were raped and murdered. I see children who will never again see their mother's face. Two thousand one hundred and twelve. That's how many women and girls were abducted between the time I left the compound where I caused Dani's needless death and when I called you from Seychelles. She tried to tell me Jo. But I was too arrogant to listen."

"Even had you decided in that moment to try to save them, most still would have perished. The predators of the world are responsible for those deaths, Simon. Not you. Not any of us."

"But..."

Jo cut him off, "But nothing. When we first started this venture, you told me about the nightmares you were having. You wouldn't tell me what they were about at first, but you said they had changed to where you dreamed of all those people you felt you should have saved."

"So?"

"What do you dream about now? I know from talking to the villagers here that it has changed since your arrival. Don't get me wrong, I still wouldn't want to be in the same room with you when you withdraw. I'll never forget that fucking plane crash you almost caused. But they said it's been different recently."

"Different, how?"

"You're still causing all manner of chaos... but you're not screaming anymore."

Simon sighed and said, "I guess they're right. I don't really dream anymore. I'm pretty sure its because I'm too busy searching for people to save."

Jo blew out a long breath and said, "I think it's because you've made up for whatever sins you may have committed. Made up for them a thousand times over. I mean, hell, Simon. You've done more good in the last few months than basically every government and every church in the world combined.

"We've been keeping track. We've freed over four thousand enslaved women and girls. You've removed over a million tonnes of weapons. Piracy is now essentially nonexistent in the south Pacific and eastern Indian oceans, and we're getting our teams set up so we can start targeting the western Indian ocean and the gulf states. But our teams are hardly even necessary anymore.

"You've become the metaphysical manifestation of Murphy's Law for these people. Every time they try to put to sea or take off, something breaks. Every time they try to have a covert meeting, the fire alarm gets pulled or something catches on fire."

Simon said, "If you're trying to make the point that I should stop, you're doing a piss poor job. If we're doing this much good, we should do more, not less."

"The point I'm making, you ignorant ass, is that you don't need to spend eight hours of every day wallowing in the totality of human misery for us to do this job. We've made billions on selling the material we've seized from the pirates on the black market. I've got a security apparatus with twenty people combing the dark web every day. A third of the seizures we did in the last week didn't even come from your tips. Leave the part where we find these people to us, at least most of it. That'll free you up to do the fun part, making things go wrong for bad people."

Simon said, "What's the point, Jo?" He gestured to the island around them. He continued, "This is what I do. I look for bad guys. What else is there?"

"You could stop beating yourself up over a single mistake made in good faith. It's killing me to watch you do this to yourself. Whatever penance you earned, you've fulfilled it a thousand times over. I don't want you to stop doing good in the world, Simon. I just want you to stop behaving as though that good can only come at the expense of your sanity."

"Why are you doing this?" Simon asked huskily, happy the rain hid his tears.

"Because you're my friend. And because I know this," he gestured to the crude lean-to that served as Simon's home, "isn't what she would have wanted for you."

"Damn you for bringing her into this," Simon muttered.

"Would Dani have ever shied away from telling you what a horse's ass you were being?"

Simon shook his head and said, "I can't say that she would have. Likely as not, she'd have been a damn sight less polite about it."

"Will you at least think about it?"

"I will," Simon replied sincerely. "And thank you. You're a true friend."

Jo sighed and said, "I'm glad you said that."

"Why's that?"

"Because it will make it pretty awkward if you kill me, or turn me into a newt, after I tell you the last part."

"I promise not to kill you," Simon said with a smirk. "The newt thing is still totally on the table."

Jo said, "I'll take my chances. Two weeks ago, we hired an analyst in my command center in Darwin. Real wiz with computers, and a real passion for our work."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Jo looked around warily before he returned his gaze to Simon. At length, he said, "Because its Nia."

Fifty-Eight

Simon barely had time to process Jo's stunning revelation before his friend bid him adieu and walked away. Emotions crashed over him, matching the storm-energized surf filling his field of vision. Had he been asked; he would have claimed that he had not thought about Nia in months. The trouble was that that statement was at once true, and profoundly untrue. Simon had spent the last three months dedicating a not insignificant portion of his mental energy to not thinking about Nia for fear that a passing thought would lead to him inadvertently invading her mind.

He sank back into the sand, looking up at the grey sky through the rain and the sparse overhead trees. Without conscious effort, he sent the raindrops bound for his eyes to oblivion, but he somberly allowed the rest to strike him. He ruefully wondered if the weather was a direct manifestation of his mood, or merely a coincidence. He chastised himself for not spending more of his time while withdrawn in study. His powers had grown exponentially over the last few months, but his understanding of those powers hardly surpassed what it had been during his ill-fated trip to Charlotte.

His internal clock told him it was a little after eight in the morning. He hefted himself onto his feet and headed toward the quay. When he arrived a few moments later, he found the boat that normally ferried him out to the platform he used when withdrawing missing. Thinking back, he recalled Jo muttering something about forcing him to take a day off.

He muttered, "Touche, my friend. But two can play at that game."

He waded out into the water until it was over a meter deep before lying back as one would when floating on one's back. Unfortunately, Simon had lost far too much body mass to float anymore, so he settled for kneeling in the sand. He focused for a moment on his surroundings before beginning his trip to the platform. To an outside observer, he would have appeared to slowly move through the water, as though by magic. The truth was much simpler. Simon simply removed the centimeter of water on the side of his body corresponding with the direction in which he wished to travel. This created a low-pressure spot, moving him in that direction not unlike how Bernoulli's principle allowed heavier than air vehicles to achieve flight. He kept doing the same process, every millisecond, until he reached his destination. He could travel up to eighty kilometers per hour using this method, but usually kept it to around the speed of a brisk walk. Upon arriving at the platform, he laid himself out prone and put himself into a deep withdrawal.

He emerged a short time later, quite an unusual event considering his withdrawals typically lasted over ten hours. He noticed a distinct lack of the sounds of chaos which typically coincided with his emergence. He allowed his breathing to resume and his heartrate to transition from a few beats per minute to something closer to normal. He then expanded his awareness, scanning his surroundings for signs of something being amiss. The answer to both what had abruptly ended his withdrawal, and why the platform was not shuddering in the wake of his telekinetic assault, was immediately apparent.

Simon sighed and muttered, "I'm going to kill him."

"Jo's not the reason I'm here, if that's whose murder you're planning," the sweetest voice in the universe replied seriously.

Simon sat up and turned to face the only woman he had ever truly loved. He could not have stopped the tears which filled his eyes, even had he wanted to. Her beauty was the stuff of legend. Even seated awkwardly, wearing rain-soaked clothes which clung uncomfortably to her body, she was captivating. His mind immediately pointed out that she was, quite literally, a sight for sore eyes. He carefully instructed his mind to butt out.

She frowned at him and said, "What have you done to yourself, Simon?"

He grimaced in confusion and said, "I don't understand."

"Honey," she gushed. "You're skin and bones. What do you weigh now, fifty kilos? Forty-five?"

"I'm not sure. I hadn't really thought about it," he paused, trying to think of a way to steer the conversation in a different direction. He finally settled on, "You look great."

She chortled and said, "Yeah, right. I look like a drowned wharf rat. But I won't disagree that I look better than you." She paused for several moments before finally asking, "What are you doing, Simon?"

"I'm trying to help."

"Help who? Because from where I sit, you're looking like the one who needs help."

"Everyone I can. Everyone who can't help themselves in the face of the wickedness of evil men."

"I get that. I know what you guys have been up to." A single tear ran down her cheek as she said, "I just don't understand why you're killing yourself."

He tensed his jaw to suppress any outward signs of emotion. He took a moment to ensure that his voice would be steady before responding, "I do what is necessary. I failed so many, Nia. I let so many die when I was too wrapped up in selfish vendetta to be bothered to care. I can't let that happen to anyone else. I can't let them..."

Nia wiped her tears away and snapped, "Let them what? You're not the bad guy here, Simon. Those fucking assholes," she jutted her finger in the direction of the open ocean, "are the ones to blame."

He looked up at her, unable to still the wavering of his chin. He stammered, "You were right. You know that, don't you? You were right and I was so, so wrong. I never should have gone to Charlotte. It was vanity to think I could stop them there. You nailed it, Nia. That trip was about getting revenge for Dani. The fact that the people responsible were already dead didn't mean a damn thing to me. I was blinded by fear that something would happen to... someone I loved. And I was too arrogant to believe that I, big-awesome-super-powered-Simon, couldn't do something to stop them. I was a fool. And countless innocents died as a result. And I lost..."

"You lost what?" she whispered shakily.

"I lost everything," he said firmly. "I got exactly what I deserved."

"So what is this now?" she asked, gesturing to the platform on which they stood. "Your punishment?"

"My penance," he responded glumly.

"And you're just going to keep at this until you starve to death? Or until you finally lose what remains of your mind and you just don't wake up one day?"

"I..." he whispered. "I'm so sorry, Nia. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. And I ruined it. Go home. Find someone who makes you happy, who treats you the way you deserve to be treated. Please go. And don't come back."

She stalked over to him and poked him in the sternum hard enough to force him to take a step back. She snapped, "Do you love me?"

"I'm no longer fit to use that word."

"Would you knock off the martyr bullshit and answer the goddamned question," she growled.

He said, "I told myself I did. But I was too cowardly to tell you, the most important person in my world, that I loved you. And when push came to shove, I gave you a childish ultimatum and then abandoned you in the middle of the night. I put you in danger, Nia. Any one of those would be disqualifying for claiming to love you. In totality? No, I don't think I'm being overly dramatic. Just realistic. The fact that I would gladly die, or endure any conceivable torture or disfigurement, for even the shred of a possibility that it would secure your happiness is immaterial. As is whether or not I loved you, or love you still. I don't get to love you, Nia. I don't deserve you. And you deserve a hell of a lot better than me."

"Who made you God?" she asked angrily.

Simon smirked in spite of himself and said, "That's rather a more interesting question when put to me than it is for most people."

"I'm fucking serious, Simon! Who said it's up to you, and you alone? Who said you get to decide?"

"What do you mean?"

She stared at him with an intensity which unmoored him. She growled, "Who said you get to decide who I get to love?"

He shook his head somberly and said, "It was never my intention to deny you anything, Nia. I would give you the whole world, the whole universe, if I could. You deserve that and so much more. You are the most genuine, kind, loving and caring person I've ever met. You should never want for anything."

She sobbed and said, "Then why can't I have you?"

Simon sank to his knees, his body no longer capable of supporting his weight in light of Nia's cataclysmic statement. He stammered, "But you left..."

"Of course I left, you stupid jackass. You took off in the middle of the night to go kill a bunch of people after leaving me that bullshit note. I was fucking furious with you. I still am. But that doesn't mean you just give up on the whole world and try to figure out a way to literally martyr yourself."

"I..." he sputtered, but she immediately cut him off.

"I wasn't fucking finished!"

He snapped his mouth shut with an audible pop.

She said, "Why didn't you come find me? I wasn't hiding. If you loved me, why did you stay away?"

"It was as I said, Nia. Some sins can be forgiven, others cannot. I am profoundly sorry for all the ways I wronged you. But I knew I could not ask your forgiveness. Not because of my pride, I have none left. It's because of my respect for you. I did not seek you out because I hoped you would find happiness. I stayed away because I love you."

She regarded him intently for several moments until she finally sat down in front of where he knelt and took his hand. She said, "I so desperately want to scream at you for all this self-sacrificial bullshit. And I will, one day. But not today. I need you to come back to me, honey. I know the Simon I knew is still in there, beneath all the guilt and suffering. You've stacked all of the world's misery on top of your shoulders because you felt like you failed them. But you haven't failed them. You saved so, so many. You're not a villain, honey. You're the best thing that ever happened to so many people who will never know your name.

"But I know your name. I know you. I've seen your soul, for God's sake. You're a good man, a great man. And even though you don't think you can ask my forgiveness, know that I give it willingly. We had a fight, baby. You did something dumb, but not unforgiveable. You came to your senses in time."

"Thanks to you," he murmured. "You had it figured out. The totality of my evil acts was compounding. If you hadn't planted the seed of doubt, if I had gone through with it..."

She quirked and eyebrow and said, "What is it?"

"I told Jo to kill me." Nia looked horrified, but Simon pushed ahead. "If he ever thought I was turning to the dark side. I told him to take me out. I think he's the only one who could. That's been my biggest fear these last months. I knew I was so close to falling into darkness after all the dumb things I did leading up to Charlotte. I could not allow the world to suffer from what a person with my abilities would do if they weren't bound by a good conscience."

She smiled wanly and said, "I never worried for a moment. Just as I knew you wouldn't go through with those murders in Charlotte."

He said, "But how could you have known?"

Tears rolled unnoticed down Nia's face as she whispered in the First Language, "Because I knew that the man that I love would never be capable of such evil."

"Nia... I..."

"Hush, baby."

"The man you fell in love with doesn't exist anymore," he stammered.

"We'll see," she murmured before leaning in to kiss him.

Fifty-Nine

Simon felt the fortress that he had carefully constructed to house his emotions implode as Nia's lips touched his. He had tried so hard to keep them at bay during the slightly less than ten sextillion femtoseconds which had passed since he had abandoned her. At her touch, the rest of the world disappeared. The cacophony of emotions from the millions suffering around the world; the endless pain his body endured after months of being made to consume itself to nourish him; the crippling guilt at every lost soul that he had been unable to save; the anguish over having driven away his soulmate: it all vanished in the one perfect moment when he felt her touch once again.

He felt moisture on his cheek, but he could not tell if it was her tears or his own. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him close. He could tell she was holding back in light of his frailty, but in that moment he would have gladly endured every bone in his body being broken if only to feel her embrace more fully. He reached for her tentatively, still not entirely convinced she was anything other than a figment of his imagination.

She broke the kiss reluctantly to gaze at him apprehensively, but never released her steadfast grip around his body.

He said, "I'm so sorry, Nia. I never should have left you. I was a fool."

She smiled wanly and said, "I'm sorry I took so long to come find you, baby. I knew you were hurting. I just had no idea how much. Max and Paige tried to tell me, but I was too stinkin' proud to listen."

"You talked to them?"

"All the time. They were my only connection to you. They were really worried about you. We all were."

"I did what I thought was right. I never wanted to hurt anyone."

She smiled warmly and said, "I know, Simon. That's why I'm here. That's why I love you."

He gasped, "I love you so much, Nia."

Their lips crashed together again. Gone was the tentativeness from moments before. In its place was an eagerness which threatened to tear them apart if they continued to resist it. Her mouth opened hungrily for Simon, her tongue anxiously hammering at his lips until he let loose the last of his control and happily granted her entry. Their tongues slicked together in a torrid ballet.

She sighed into his mouth, and he felt their connection resolidify on a deeper level. He ascended to the ethereal plane and once again basked in the radiant beauty that was her soul. Her soul embraced his, smiling triumphantly as they came together.

She said, "I have missed you, beloved."

"I was lost without you, my love. Please forgive me," he pleaded.

Her soul smiled and nodded happily before embracing him once more.

He returned to the corporeal plane to find his body aligned with her own, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. He was surprised to find that several hours had passed since they began their conversation. He leaned forward to kiss her gently, earning a smile for his efforts.

He looked around the platform, noticing for the first time there was no boat. He said, "How'd you get out here?"

"Same way you did, I assume. I flew."

"You can fly?" he exclaimed.

"Sure. Why couldn't I? The thing I haven't really worked out yet is the best body posture to use. I mean, the Superman way is certainly the most aerodynamic, but your neck starts to hurt after a while. I tried the Neo way, but then I got hit in the forehead by a bug that I swear must have been the size of a tennis ball. Recently, I've been going with a sort of reclined approach. Going for the Wonder Woman style, except of course I don't need an invisible jet."

"Wow. That's incredible. I mean, I knew you were advanced in the First Language, but I had no idea. I came up with a few theories for flight, but I never managed to get them off the ground, so to speak."

"Simon?"

"Sorry, honey. I'm just so impressed. You were saying?"

Her face contorted briefly before a snicker escaped her lips. She finally said, "I was fucking with you, babe."

"Oh," he sighed despondently.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to mock of you. I was just having a bit of fun. Now I feel like I kicked a puppy."

"Don't sweat it. It's my fault. I haven't really spoken to anyone but Jo and the villagers for months. And, while they have many fantastic qualities, a robust sense of humor is not among them."

"Tell you what. We'll work on the flying thing, together. I can't wait to see you soaring through the clouds, however you choose to do it."

He kissed her briefly, but thoroughly, and said, "Now that we've got that sorted out, how did you get out here?"

"I got a ride."

Simon looked at her suspiciously before saying, "I thought all the villagers were otherwise engaged today."

"Well, I may have slightly exaggerated Jo's lack of involvement. But don't judge him too harshly. I told him I'd send all his weapons, even the really well-hidden ones, to oblivion if he didn't help me."

"I see. Well perhaps we should hold off on handing down sentencing until we see if he's willing to come pick us up."

***

"It's beautiful here," Nia sighed as they rode back to the island.

Simon said, "These people have been here for countless generations. I have to admit, the simplicity of life here has a certain appeal. No internet, no television, just community. When a typhoon hit last month, they all came together. You'd have thought the island was destroyed after the storm passed, but they rebuilt everything in just a few days. Sort of like how feudal Japan favored those flimsy looking buildings with paper walls, but they did it so they could quickly rebuild whenever there was destruction caused by fire or storm. They do the same thing here. All that matters is the people, not the places where they sleep."

"Do they interact with the outside world at all?"

"Sure. They have to. If for nothing else than just the need to diversify the gene pool. There's tons of islands not unlike this one all over the south Pacific. They trade with each other and build families together."

"Do you ever miss the modern conveniences?"

He sighed and said, "I came here to eliminate distractions. And in the hope that a place like this wouldn't be vulnerable to the type of attack that killed so many in Rwanda. I achieved the latter, although I can't say that the location is largely responsible for that. These people know this island, and the surrounding ocean, like the back of their hand. They might get overrun, like they did by pirates before we arrived, but they won't be caught off guard."

"And the former? Did I ruin your hopes of not being distracted?"

"You could never be a distraction, honey. I didn't come here to run away from you, or anyone. I just hoped that with fewer people around it would be easier to let my walls down."

She twirled her fingers in the sparse hair along the nape of his neck and said, "Did it work?"

"At first, but then it became irrelevant. Tell me, have you been practicing with the First Language?"

"I do a video call with Paige a few times a week. We're sort of moving each other along at this point. We listen to the lectures you recorded and hash out theories. As much as anything, we were just practicing until we got you back."

"I'm so glad. I asked because I was curious the degree to which you've had to start making an effort to block out the emotions of others."

"Not really there yet. I'm still at the stage where I can get that off of someone if I concentrate but I'm not getting that spontaneously from just random people. Just you."

"Oh really?"

She glanced down shyly and said, "Always. For the longest time, I thought you were angry with me. But Max helped me realize that your anger wasn't directed at me, it was at all those terrible men who were causing so much suffering. Once I realized that, I was able to go deeper and see just how much you were hurting."

"I'm better now," he murmured, caressing her cheek. "I asked because that background noise of people's emotions we talked about, the one that I started having to actively block for people around me, it's gotten louder."

"Meaning you can't block it out?"

"No, I can still block it out if I concentrate. As I'm doing now. What I meant was, it's no longer for people in my immediate vicinity."

She whispered, "How many?"

He sighed and said, "All of them."

"Everyone on the island? We could find someplace else, baby. Someplace bigger where we could get away from everyone while still affording the protection of a community. Maybe that mountain in Tasmania?"

He smiled weakly at her and said, "I very much liked it there. Perhaps we could live there one day. But what I meant was, when I'm withdrawn, I can feel everyone."

Her eyes widened and she said, "How?" She swallowed slowly and said, "How is that possible? How can you withstand the whole world's emotions without going insane?"

He chuckled ruefully and said, "You're assuming quite a bit."

She pulled him into an embrace and said, "The world doesn't deserve you."

He gazed into her beautiful brown eyes and whispered, "I'm the one who's undeserving," before bending down to kiss her.

They arrived at the island moments later. Simon accepted the helping hand Jo offered him, grinning at his friend's discomfiture. He patted Jo on the shoulder affectionately before lacing his fingers into Nia's and leading her onto the island. When they arrived at Simon's crude lean-to, Nia made no comment at his living conditions. She merely snuggled closer to him. As they met various villagers, she chatted comfortably with them in their native language. After the tour they chose to take a stroll down the beach.

Simon lifted up their interlaced fingers and kissed the back of her hand. He said, "You're amazing."

"I know," Nia replied agreeably.

They strolled for a few more minutes before he said, "Are you thinking in the First Language yet?"

She smiled and said, "Yes. At least some of the time."

"Remarkable. Is there anything you can't do?"

She paused before saying, "Make the man I love realize that he's allowed to be happy?"

"I'm getting there, sweetheart. Every moment I spend with you charms my soul."

"Same. I missed you so goddamned much."

They paused their journey, sinking down into the sand to enjoy the moment. She pushed him onto his back, a mean feat considering she outweighed him now despite being significantly shorter. He felt her hands roaming his body and regretfully broke the kiss.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for this," he panted.

She sighed and said, "It's fine, honey. We'll go as slow as you want. The important thing is that we're together."

"I appreciate that. But, what I meant was, I'm not sure I'm physiologically capable right now. I sort of reappropriated that biomass."

"You're joking!" she guffawed. She then sobered and said, "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to laugh at you. I seem to be doing that a lot."

He grinned and said, "I don't mind at all. I can think of few things I like to hear more than the sound of your laughter."

"Thanks, babe. I look forward to hearing you laugh again. I'm also stunned you got rid of your cock rather than eating more."

"Oh, its still there. I considered getting rid of it, but it seemed too maudlin. The part that's missing now is the infrastructure which causes an erection."

"Getting rid of your cock is too dramatic but intentionally making yourself impotent wasn't?"

Simon shrugged and said, "Hey, I was going through some serious shit. I can fix it in about an hour if I have sufficient biomass."

"Speaking of which," she said seriously. "If I ask you really nicely, and bat my eyelashes at you, and jiggle my boobs for you, and twerk on your soon-to-be-fully-functional cock, and introduce you to the joys of anal, and promise to suck you off multiple times a day: will you agree to start eating again?"

"You really had me at asking nicely, honey."

"You sayin' no to the rest?"

"This may sound ridiculous from someone who willingly took his cash and prizes offline. But do I look like a fool?"

She sighed and kissed him briefly before saying, "You look like the man I love. Now, let's go find you something to eat. I'm anxious for you to get a certain part of your anatomy back online. It's been so long, baby."

Sixty

"Welcome back," Nia said warmly from her position next to him on the bed. They were in what passed for the height of luxury on this island, a forty-square-meter two-bedroom house on the outskirts of the village that had been set aside for his use. He had refused it, begging the villagers to use it for their own purposes. But they were a proud people and only entered it to make sure it was in readiness, should the day come where Simon would make use of it.

"Did I break anything," Simon asked timidly.

"No. Everything was fine. I could sense the beginnings of a small degree of unease, but you calmed down when I asked you to."

"I felt it," he said serenely. "I felt the pain of the world start to overwhelm me, but you appeared like Strider rescuing the hobbits on Weathertop, and held the darkness at bay."

"You're lucky I'm already in love with you. Nerd."

He kissed her before saying, "Thank you, my love. I can't remember the last time I truly rested."

"You're most welcome. You look a bit better. How much did you eat at lunch?"

"Seven-thousand, eight-hundred and eighty-two point four calories."

"Can't forget those point four."

He grinned wickedly at her and said, "Certainly not. Especially considering those were what I needed to fix our little problem."

"Oh, I noticed," she replied sultrily. He felt her fingers encircle his now quite erect penis. "My friend here has been standing at attention for nearly an hour. I can't tell you how difficult it was to just lay here and stare longingly at him while I waited for you to finish."

He chuckled and said, "I don't think you'll have to wait very long for me to finish."

"You think I'll be scared off if my super powered lover, with stamina to rival the gods, has to take a few laps to get back up to speed? I think not." She slid down his body to crouch between his knees. She gazed up at him seductively and murmured, "Any last words?"

"I love you, Nia."

"Good answer," she chuckled before sticking out her tongue and daintily teasing the head of his cock. He reached down to caress her face. She slid up onto her knees before taking his manhood into her mouth, causing her impressive mane of hair to cover his midsection. He gathered it in his hands so he could gaze in wonder at the loving expression on her face as she pleasured him. With each stroke, she took him deeper into her mouth until he felt himself grazing the back of her throat.

"That feels amazing, baby."

She hummed in contentment, sending shivers of pleasure throughout his entire body. Her nails drew a lazy path up his inner thighs, heightening his pleasure further. She pulled his throbbing hardness from her mouth, stroking him lazily as she ran her tongue along the underside of his shaft. She took one of his balls into her mouth, swirling it around gently. She sighed loudly upon spying a pearl of pre-cum welling up at his tip. The vibrations around his balls caused his body to spasm uncontrollably.

She released him from her lips with a pop and whispered, "Stop holding back, baby. I want to taste you."

He could only nod his acquiescence before she took his cock back into her mouth once more. He could feel her nipples grazing the inside of his thighs with each dip of her head. She bobbed her head eagerly, her eyes bright with hunger and desire. He felt all of the loneliness, all of the anguish, of the months since he had left her melt away under her ministrations. She was not pleasuring him because she felt obligated, or because he had demanded it, or even because she hoped he would reciprocate. She was doing it because she loved him, and she wanted to give him pleasure.

He felt his orgasm swelling within him. Nia sensed it too and she began to eagerly hum in anticipation while she nodded excitedly. Her eyes were filled with love, and anticipation for the pleasure she was giving him. He caressed her face again just as the muscles of his legs locked.

She took his cock to the back of her throat, triggering his release. He groaned in pleasure as he felt the first wave of pleasure crash over him. She moaned in appreciation as the first volley of his seed coated the back of her throat. She swallowed eagerly before sliding back to allow herself to taste his essence. Her eyes rolled rapturously back in her head as his orgasm continued. Cum streamed down the sides of his cock despite her repeated swallowing. She giggled at the volume of his release before pulling back and stroking him as she directed the continued eruptions from his manhood at her breasts.

At length, his head sank back onto the bed and a bone-deep sigh of contentment escaped his lips.

He heard her snicker before she murmured, "That was... quite a lot."

"Sorry," he offered.

"Don't misunderstand me, babe. I'm not upset, I'm impressed. And the way I could see you on so many levels as you came, it was... well... I nearly came myself."

"How do you mean?"

"It was like when we kiss, and I mean really kiss. I can see you, but it's your true self."

He said, "Perhaps it's the ignorant savage in me, but I've always called it your soul. Maybe that's a crude term, but I couldn't think of anything better."

"No, it fits. I could see your soul as you came. But it was more than that. It was as though I could see every facet of you: your body now; the way you think of your body, which might be how you looked before this started. I could even see the way you see me. It was... a religious experience."

He pulled her close and kissed her deeply. He felt his seed slicking between them, so he sent it to oblivion. She squeaked softly into their kiss before pulling back. She glanced between them suspiciously.

She said, "Did you just use your powers to clean us up?"

"Yes?" he replied weakly.

"I wasn't done with that," she pouted.

He grinned and said, "More where that came from."

She swatted his chest and said, "Oh, I see how it is. You send your delicious cum to oblivion just so I'll give you another blow job. Well, turnabout is fair play, lover boy. If you want more sucky sucky, you better give me a nice place to sit."

"You took the words right out of my mouth, beautiful."

She grinned playfully at him.

He pulled her close, his smile matching her own. He sighed, "I missed this. Not the lovemaking, although I certainly missed that as well. But, most of all, I missed just being with you. You make me happy, Nia."

"I couldn't have said it better myself."

"I love you so much, baby."

She whispered, "I love you more," before lowering her lips to his.

She melted against him, the feeling of her body against his filling him with contentment. His hands roamed her body, zeroing in on her luscious ass. He kneaded her cheeks lewdly, causing her to squirm in pleasure.

He broke their kiss and whispered, "I believe you mentioned being in search of someplace to sit."

She grinned at him triumphantly before rising up above him like a goddess. He tucked his hands beneath her thighs and encouraged her to move up his body. She shimmied slowly, clearly savoring the way his eyes worshipped her supple, jiggling body. He beheld her: from her full breasts, which rippled with each shuddering breath; across her taunt stomach and finally arriving at the apex of her thighs covered by a healthy tuft of hair.

She saw where his gaze landed and said, "Wait a tic." She concentrated for a moment before her pubic hair vanished, exposing her glistening mound for his appreciation.

He said, "That was hardly necessary."

"I know," she countered mischievously. "Fun though."

"Get up here," he murmured, tugging at the backs of her thighs.

She settled over his face and sighed in pleasure when he slid his tongue into her folds. He pulled her closer to delve deeper into her femininity. The taste of her essence was intoxicating. He licked along her slit until he reached her clit. Her body spasmed with his first teasing flick.

"Oh, baby," she gasped. "I missed you so much."

He focused on her clit, offering the faintest hint of the tip of his tongue as her anticipation built. He gazed up across her incredible body to find her eyes locked on him. She reached down to slide her hands through his hair. An occasional spasm passed through her body as her pleasure built with tantalizing patience. Her eyes never left his as he continued to tease her clit, alternating the movements of his tongue but never offering more than the lightest of caresses.

He reached up to cup her full breasts, tweaking her nipples and causing her to moan loudly. He slid his hands down to cup her ass, teasing her puckered star and causing her eyes to widen in excitement.

Unlike in their previous encounters, he was unable to intuit her desires for what she wanted next or how she wanted him to make love to her. This was because what she wanted, what she craved with every fiber of her being, was for him to love her. The method was no longer relevant, all that mattered was the look they were sharing. She smiled down at him, clearly aware of the way he was perceiving her, and made all the more happy as a result.

He felt her pleasure near its peak, but he knew instinctively that she was in no hurry. He continued his gentle, patient ministrations on her clit until he felt her pass the point of no return. He smiled into her folds at the valiant effort she made to keep her eyes glued to his own. But it was a battle she soon lost. She threw her head back and screamed his name as her essence flooded his mouth. He drank her down greedily and enjoyed the sight of her supple body as she spasmed above him.

At length her orgasm receded, and she made to climb off him, but he held her fast. He winked at her before pushing her hips higher until she was genuinely sitting on his face, her soaked entrance planted on his mouth and his nose buried in her folds. He grinned inwardly at the thought of how this would suffocate a normal human, but he knew he would not be in distress for lack of oxygen for at least an hour.

He dove into her with gusto: thrusting his tongue into her core and nuzzling her clit with his nose. She began twerking on his face to heighten her pleasure. His tongue lathed her from her clit to her puckered star, savoring her essence. He drank in the pleasure radiating from her. Gone was the tenderness of her first orgasm. In its place was the wanton lust for pleasure which he eagerly offered, and she happily accepted. There was no thought in either of their minds for scorekeeping, the pleasure he gave her included no expectation for recompense. Nor was he doing it because of the toe-curling blowjob she had given him moments earlier. Instead, this was an act of love. He pleasured her because it made her happy, and her happiness in turn fueled his own. She was not using him for pleasure, rather she was accepting what he lovingly offered.

She rotated her hips, wedging his tongue between her cheeks. He tongued her voraciously, loving the waves of pleasure he felt radiating off her body. She reached down to rub her clit. Spasms of pleasure rippled across her body as she raced towards the precipice.

Her orgasm arrived like a thunderclap. She screamed his name and collapsed onto his body. Her essence sprayed from her core, coating his hungry tongue as he leaned up to continue pleasuring her. Her muscles quickly lost all their tension and she lolled onto the bed beside them.

He scrambled up, climbing between her thighs and holding himself over her. When her eyes opened, they were filled with a love that surrounded him and penetrated him with serenity. He dropped his lips to hers. Their kiss drew out, slowly moving from chaste, through tender before arriving at passionate. She reached between them to grip his hardness, lining him up with her entrance before pulling him into her.

He sank into her slowly, cherishing the way her inner walls welcomed his girth. She sighed into their kiss as he bottomed out. She reached up to caress his face before breaking their kiss.

She whispered, "This is where you belong, my love. Welcome home."

"My God, Nia. You're so fucking perfect."

"So are you."

He began thrusting into her core, taking his time and savoring each tiny sensation of their joining. She smiled up at him in contentment. With each tiny adjustment he made to increase her pleasure, he felt a corresponding movement of her body designed to heighten his own. They were locked in a languid competition to see who could give their lover the most pleasure.

As Simon felt their pleasure near its peak, he paused for a moment as he heard a tiny warning call from the deep recesses of what remained of his former consciousness. He stilled, looking down at his soulmate in frustration.

"What is it?" she murmured worriedly.

"We don't have a condom."

She smiled brightly and said, "You swore we'd never be apart again. I intend to hold you to that."

"But what about..."

She quirked an eyebrow and asked, "Pregnancy?" He nodded, causing a grin to spread across her face. She traced a finger down his chest and said, "I can think of few things that would make me happier than to make a baby with you."

His eyes widened in surprise, quickly replaced by excitement.

She continued, "But that is for another day. You need to get your strength back. And, with all due respect to the villagers here, I'm not sure this is the ideal place for us to raise a family." He nodded his agreement. She smiled and said, "Do you really think that preventing ovulation is beyond my abilities?"

Recognition spread across his face. He returned her smile happily. She murmured, "I already told you, my love. You are right where you belong."

He dropped his lips to hers, kissing her fervently. Their tongues slicked together in time with the thrusts of his throbbing cock into her velvety depths. She wrapped her legs around him, fisting her hands in his hair.

In his own head, he said, "I will love you forever, Nia."

He then heard in his head, as clearly as if she had spoken aloud, "And I you, my love. Until the stars grow cold."

Their pleasure peaked as one and he felt her inner walls constrict around him as he erupted deep within her. Her velvety core hungrily milked him as he filled her eager womb with his seed. She sighed into his mouth as she embraced him in the way only a woman in love could embrace her partner.

He felt the ethereal plane merge with the corporeal one, their bodies and their souls joining together as one. He knew in that moment that he would love her forever. More than that, he knew with an absolute certainty that transcended faith that they were more than lovers, more than soulmates. They were one. And that together, their love would change the world.

Epilogue

"All right everyone," Nia called out. "Let's settle down."

Everyone began to quiet down and took their seats around the table. Simon leaned back in his chair, his hand almost absentmindedly caressing the small of Nia's back. He heard a commotion in the adjoining room. After a brief silent conversation with Nia, he stood up and headed over to see what was happening.

Upon entering the room, he was confronted with the sight of a four-year-old girl shrieking in delight as she floated a few centimeters off the ground. Surrounding her was a small group of other girls with ages ranging from fifteen-years to eleven-months.

He fixed a suspicious eye on the oldest girl and warningly said, "Dani..."

Her expression changed in an instant from joy to dismay. The four-year-old dropped gently to the floor.

Dani said, "Sorry, dad. I was just..."

"I know, sweetheart. I'm proud of your abilities too. But we talked about this. Only with inanimate objects. And only if your mother or I is with you."

"Ok," she said glumly.

He sat down beside her and pulled her close, kissing her wild mane of hair. She snuggled against him.

He said, "I am not angry, dear one. But we must value the health and safety of our loved ones above all else."

She said, "I know father. I will remember."

"I'm very proud of you."

She smiled brightly and said, "Thanks."

He said, "Now, go play. And try to keep anyone else from attempting to show off. They're not quite as advanced as you, and I'd hate for something irreplaceable to go missing."

She nodded and led the other children outside. He followed them, gazing across the stunning landscape of the delightfully named Inaccessible Island where, with the somewhat willing cooperation of the British government, they now made their home. From the outside, it was difficult to imagine the structures which lie beneath. The only evidence being a collection of windows, which were nearly impossible to see from the exterior, and a pair of similarly hidden doors.

Satisfied that Dani had control of the children, he returned to the inside. Nia had succeeded in settling everyone down and the annual meeting had begun. All of the Inner Circle were in attendance, along with a couple esteemed guests who were not conversant in the First Language. His heart swelled at the thought of the thirteen remarkable women who, along with himself, represented the totality of all people in the world who were fully fluent in the First Language. He caught Hank's eye at the end of the table and noticed that his friend's beard was now more salt than pepper, which stood in stark contrast to the room's other occupants who had, as near as makes no difference, not aged a day since their grokking.

They had tried so hard through the years to spread their knowledge, especially to their closest allies. But Simon was still the only male who could, not only speak the First Language, but also gain even the faintest glimmer of understanding upon hearing it. All other males were completely incapable. Rene had theorized that males lacked sufficient empathy to begin the training, but Simon suspected the true cause was more intentional on the part of the powers that be. History had demonstrated, with cataclysmic regularity, just how undeserving the male gender was of being granted more power.

In addition to the Inner Circle present here, there were thousands more across the globe who had begun their training. They had a school on every continent: always cunningly concealed from the outside world and always enjoying a level of protection that would make heads of state jealous. In addition to their security company, now managed by Jo's oldest son, which provided overt protection to each facility, they also had an around the clock watch schedule manned, or more accurately wo-manned, by a member of at least the seventh circle. This enabled them to maintain a locus of control out to fifty kilometers, inside of which no living thing could exist without their knowledge, and tacit approval. They had had several close calls through the years, which caused changes to their security protocols. But they had thankfully avoided another Rwanda.

He listened to Nia lead the Inner Circle through a leisurely discussion of whether they should meet with the heads of NATO following the latter group's somewhat panicked response to the fact that every nuclear weapon in the world had been discovered to be non-functional sometime during the previous year. Simon smiled at the memory of that day. He had been unable to decide if it was worrying or heartening that it had taken them nearly a decade to discover the weapons were now nothing more than extremely expensive monuments to myopic thinking.

The world had spent the last several years trying to decide between trying to recruit Simon and trying to kill him. Efforts on both fronts had ended similarly. Militaries that approached their island found that their weapons vanished, and their ships stopped working. Special operations teams were met as they landed, having similarly discovered that the tools of their profession no longer existed. It was an unsteady truce, the world's leaders having difficulty believing either that they were helpless to stop Simon and his followers or that they had nothing to fear from them. The fact that human trafficking and piracy were now vestiges of the past did little to convince heads of state, but the Inner Circle took pride in their work.

Simon felt a hand on his arm. He looked over to find Max regarding him intently. She held their youngest daughter in her arms as she breastfed. Max and Paige were the most prolific of the women present, having birthed four daughters between them. Each time, they had requested that Simon be the father and each time he had respectfully refused. Even Nia had encouraged him to father their children by taking them to bed and making a baby with love. But Simon said no. Both because his devotion to Nia was absolute, and because he knew their children would be the foundation of a new nation and thus genetic diversity was essential.

Max whispered, "Everything ok?"

"Yeah. Just thinking about all we've accomplished."

"You've come a long way, my friend. It's almost impossible to imagine that the guy I met at a baseball game all those years ago built all this."

Simon shook his head and said, "I didn't build this. She did," he said nodding his head in Nia's direction.

"How so? I thought you were the one who taught everyone our language."

"But she saved me. Without her, the world could have been plunged into darkness. She saved us all."

"I knew there was a reason she's the godmother to all our children."

Simon grinned and turned his attention back to the meeting. Shortly, they concluded their business and the attendees started making their way to either their accommodations or their transportation back home.

That evening found Simon in their subterranean pool after the children had been put to bed. He was lying placidly five meters below the surface, enjoying the serenity of the still pool. He typically spent time each evening in the pool, enjoying the opportunity to meditate and reflect beneath the surface after his nightly swim. He felt a disturbance in the water but, sensing no danger, he did not move. Shortly, he felt the soft lips of his one true love meet his own. Her body settled over his own as their kiss deepened and their tongues intwined. He wrapped his arms around her lovingly. He felt her nipples harden against his chest as the evidence of his own pleasure grew against her belly.

"Here?" he asked her silently.

"Now," came her quick reply.

She rotated her hips, and they were soon joined. The love he felt surrounding him was absolute. Their life together had been better and more fulfilling than he could have imagined. They disagreed, sometimes vehemently, but their love not only persevered, it continued to grow. The children their love created had only strengthened their bond. Despite the tragedy and heartache, he gave thanks daily for the gifts he had received. The grokking had changed his life, but the true gift was the woman in his arms and the family she had given him.

As he felt their mutual pleasure reach its crescendo, he heard her sweet voice whisper in his head, "I love you so much."

He replied, "I will love you, always."

The End

Thanks so much for taking the time to read Simon's tale. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave a review.

Freewill

by Jake Lazarus

This was dedicated to all the dreamers and mythmakers who entertained and inspired myself, and millions of others, in our formative years, especially the Dean.

Copyright © 2022 Jake Lazarus

All rights reserved.

This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the author (except for the use of brief quotations in a review).

This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, business, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.