Phantom Ch. 11-12

Chapter 11: The End of the World, Part II

The Penguin and Kelly Gray were laughing as they picked off the Nova Missile Control Officers, one by one.

Much to Galina's consternation, the Penguin and Kelly Gray had hit it off almost immediately. After killing her latest host to demonstrate her abilities, Kelly had acquired a new host, a redhead with long legs. Galina's suspicions about Kelly's choice was confirmed when Kelly engaged in the ritual of reproduction with the Penguin.

As a Poltergeist, the Penguin's body was little more than a representation; energy molded into the shape of a physical body. But could the Penguin actually enjoy physical sensations?

From the sounds of the moans in the next room, his as well as hers, Galina guessed the answer to the question was a resounding yes. When they emerged some time later, Galina could see from the way they looked at each other that they were smitten.

Well, fine. The Penguin had once found Galina intriguing, and tossed her aside; Kelly Gray would be in for a similar surprise when the Penguin's tastes changed again.

Or maybe she wouldn't, since she and the Penguin were about to destroy all life on the world as they knew it.

********

On the third day of the following month, they struck. The Penguin had once again chosen Bunker Number Four at the Grand Forks Nova Missile Base, partially out of sentimental reasons. As he and Kelly Gray, in her newly appropriated body, shot the Nova Missile Control Officers, they seemed just as surprised as they had been the last time.

He had grown to love her little laugh, the way she tittered and smiled when her compression pistol blew a hole in a man's chest. The Penguin suddenly wished that there were not merely four other officers there but ten or twenty or two hundred, to extend their pleasure.

But there were only four, and once they were disposed of, it was time to destroy the world.

Once again.

The Penguin and Kelly sat side by side at their holographic Missile Control interfaces. Kelly mimicked everything the Penguin did. Kelly was not as committed to destroying the world as he was; she just thought it would be fun. It would be a blast, she said.

It surely would be.

As the Penguin worked his controls quickly and efficiently, he thought, finally, he would get his revenge; finally a lifetime of being scorned would be repaid with interest. The betrayal of Shoshanna would be repaid a thousand times over.

And then he got to the option in the command menu he had been working towards. The holographic launch button. He looked over and could see that Kelly was poised over hers, waiting.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes," She laughed.

The Penguin paused. Shoshanna. Her HappyHappy. Her betrayal. Squeezing the life out of her-

"Let's do it!" he cried.

Kelly and the Penguin pressed their holographic buttons at the same time.

They waited for the world to end.

And waited.

And waited.

"What's wrong now?" the Penguin cried.

The computer responded. "Awaiting final code for launch."

"Code? What final code?" The Penguin looked around. No one had ever told him anything about a final code.

"The launch codes, silly," said Kelly. "Only the President has them. Everyone knows that. Didn't you?"

The Penguin didn't.

Chapter 12: The Story of Max... and Ronnie

His name had never really been Max Boot. Instead, his real name had been Max Plank.

Max Plank, sort of named for a famous German scientist who almost had the same name, was named by ambitious parents who hoped he would follow in their footsteps. Max's mother had been a brilliant virologist, studying Ass to Mouth Disease, and his Father had been a Social Economist for the World Government, deriving the price amount of societal payments which would persuade people to stop working in the private sector. They both wanted Max to be a scientist.

Instead, Max dropped out of school and became a grav car driver. He took people to and from the spaceports in Queens and Brooklyn.

"That's a job for robots, not people," said his father, making a face.

"No!" said Max. "There are still people out there who are old fashioned, who like the personal touch."

He was right. Customers came to love riding in his hired car, and he developed a cult following. Max was a great conversationalist. People just opened up naturally to him. He made almost as much in tips as he did in fares.

Max was also very smart, people-wise. Sometimes people would open up about their personal problems and Max would give them advice. Good advice. He loved helping people. Max met a gorgeous redhead named Alexandra, and they got married when Max turned 30. Unfortunately, Alexandra died eight years later after a botched nipple transplant. Max was shaken up and sad for a while, but soon he regained his positive attitude and was back to driving people around in his grav car and helping them with their problems. Tragically, however, Max was one of the 3.4 million people killed in the Ass to Mouth Plague of 2254.

Max wasn't particularly surprised to learn that he wasn't dead; he was lucky to run into a kalak, a good kalak, who explained what had happened to him. The kalak told Max that he had apparently survived because of his great love for helping others. The kalak said that Max had probably been turned into a Guardian, a kalak who helped other people. But the kalak warned Max that helping people, however well intentioned, was forbidden by the Three Laws of the Circle. Neither the kalak he had run into nor even Max himself, didn't at first know that he could assume physical form like a Poltergeist, which made him one of the most powerful kalaks in existence.

That all came later.

Max thanked the kalak for his friendly warning, and promptly continued helping people. Obviously, helping people as a ghost inside their bodies was a little different than dispensing advice from the driver's seat of a grav car... but Max quickly adjusted.

And then Max made a friend. Well, Max made a lot of friends. But this particular friend was named Ronnie. Ronnie pretended to be a Guardian, one who helped people, like Max.

But nothing could be further from the truth. Ronnie was actually a Lemure pretending to be a Guardian. She had discovered a way to camouflage her red eyes. Ronnie had lived a bitter life and died jealous of everything and everyone in the world, and had stuck around in order to administer payback.

And what better way to pay back then to systemically hurt every person who Max helped?

********

Gloria Conrad was in mourning. Her eight year old daughter Victoria had been killed at a bus stop by a runaway car. The driver was a man who was high on weed. Since the World Government had determined that Weed was one of the Nine Basic Universal Civil Rights, the man couldn't even be prosecuted.

Gloria was devastated. Her husband Brian tried to console her as any good husband would--with the incredible healing powers of penis. But Gloria pushed him away. She wouldn't be consoled. Not in that way.

And that was the situation when Max found the Conrads. He had discovered that like Ghost Hunters, who had a talent for finding other ghosts, Max had a talent for finding people in distress. Perhaps it was part of the reason he had stayed on as a kalak, rather than simply dying. Max simply observed, and listened for a few days, as he usually did. Then he decided to actively interfere.

He had actually just been hauled before the Circle, and warned in no uncertain terms that if he was caught interfering again, the penalties would be stiff. He was told that even though he had good intentions, he was still violating the First Law (making his presence known) and the Second Law (interference).

"But I'm not harming anyone. To the contrary, I'm helping them!"

The Circle turned a deaf ear to his pleas. Max didn't know precisely what they would do to him if they caught him again, but he didn't care. He felt compelled to help. And he knew, or at least he thought he knew exactly what Gloria needed.

And so he entered Gloria's body, and he started to whisper to her, in her sleep.

You want a baby. You want another baby.

"No... no...." Gloria said at first, tossing and turning in her sleep.

Yes, yes. You want another baby. Max planted the image in her mind, the image of holding a beautiful baby boy or girl. Gloria couldn't resist. Soon she fell in love with the idea.

But she made no move to approach Bryan. After spending weeks rejecting his sexual advances, she felt awkward about asking him for the seed of life contained in his heavy, hairy balls.

And so Max sighed and entered Bryan's body.

Gloria wants a baby.

"Who is this?" said Bryan, frowning broadly.

Gloria wants to have a baby.

"Gloria doesn't want to have another baby. And who is this, and how are you talking to me in my head, and am I going crazy?"

You are not crazy. I am just a friend.

"A friend... who talks inside of people's heads."

Yes. Exactly. I am that kind of friend. Gloria wants to have another baby.

Bryan looked over at her. She was sitting on the couch, hugging a pillow tightly, pretending to watch holovision. "She doesn't look like she's ready to me."

Trust me, she is. She's just shy about it. Try cuddling with her.

"Gloria hasn't been receptive to-"

Try it!

Bryan jumped up as if he had been given an electric shock.

"Hey baby," he said, sitting down by her.

"Hey," she said, still pretending to watch holovision. She nervously glanced at her husband once, then twice, then thrice.

Bryan started to play with her arm.

"Watcha doin?" Gloria asked.

She doesn't want it!

She does!

She doesn't!

Keep going!

Bryan started to pet her arm, like he was petting a lamb in a kiddie zoo. Then he let his hand wander farther afield. Gloria looked up at him, and she arched her head, ever so slightly.

That was it!

Bryan tilted his head and moved in. They kissed. He heard Gloria give a soft moan, and she frantically kissed him, as if a dam had been broken.

See, I told you she wanted it!

Bryan hadn't had sex with his wife in over two months. For two months he had been forced to pleasure himself in the shower thinking of girls on Holochannel 93. He was eager to begin the ritual of reproduction.

He gently pulled Gloria up, and tugged her to the bedroom, but gently, like a balloon that could fly off its string if pulled too hard. Then he started removing her clothing. As a man married to a sexually frigid woman, Bryan knew that it was his responsibility to remove her clothes as well as his. It was just the way it was. Even when things were normal between him and Gloria, it had always been up to Bryan to initiate, which always kind of annoyed-

Gloria's breasts came into view as he carefully removed the last snap on her breast control collar. As it came off her saw her beautiful mounds, pointing downwards, but they still took his breath away, as they would any man who had been breast deprived for over 60 days.

Bryan started kissing her, and rubbing his body against her, and one thing led to another and soon he began the ritual of reproduction. Or at least Bryan tried to. When he tried to insert himself, Gloria closed his legs.

What's wrong?

Wait, let me check.

Max flowed seamlessly out of Bryan and into Gloria.

Gloria, what are you doing?

I don't know.

Gloria, if you want to have a baby, you have to let him in. Spraying you from the outside won't do it.

I'm just not sure... what if I have another baby and something happens to it?

Nothing will happen to it.

How can you be sure?

Gloria, spread your legs.

Gloria reluctantly spread her legs.

Bryan smiled and inserted his slightly smaller than average sized white penis into her. Bryan's penis was about a quarter inch smaller than the average sized white penis. He had looked it up. Even so, Bryan's penis was still larger than 35% of all white male penises, on average.

That thought vaguely comforted Bryan as he moved his organ of reproduction in and out of his somewhat willing wife.

Max frowned. He was inside Gloria, experiencing sex from a woman's perspective. Max felt the mild tingling in her nipples, and her clitoris. And that was all? It seemed hardly worth the effort. Maybe Gloria was just a frigid woman.

Meanwhile, Bryan started to get excited. He felt a tingling building up. It built up to a certain level, and plateaued.

After a while it started to become clear to all three of them that the train was not going to arrive at the station any time soon. Bryan was pounding her and gritting her teeth, but not getting anywhere fast.

Max sighed, flowed out of Gloria and into Bryan. Is there a problem?

I can't... I can't...

Could you not before?

I could! But I've gotten used... used to the women on Holochannel 93....

Max realized the problem immediately.

All right, close your eyes, Bryan. (Pause) Bryan, your eyes still aren't closed.

Bryan closed his eyes.

All right, Bryan. Think about a woman from Holochannel 93. Yes, that's the one. The real slutty girl... the one you think will do anything for you, for the right price... yes, the one wearing the leather cap, and the eye patch, and the piercings of two steel balls hanging from her labial lips... does that really turn you on? All right, imagine you're going into her... what is her name? Oh, yes , of course, she doesn't need a name... all right, Bryan, imagine yourself, thrusting into her... you're filling her now, Bryan, not your wife. You're filling some girl so slutty that she probably has a double case of vaginorea... sorry, I shouldn't have said that... but she's still really slutty, yes, you're pounding into her... that's right... getting harder now... that's right, you're going to fill her up... you're the man, Bryan! You're the man! You're going to fill that slut up, and make her yours! Yes, I can feel it... yes, you're almost there, climb that mountain, Bryan, get to the top! Slut... slut... slut... slutslutslutslutslutslut....

"Yes... yess..... yesssss!" Bryan cried, as he squirted into his wife with abandon. Max, inside of Bryan's body, felt it as if he were the one filling Gloria with his very own seed. He felt the exploding tingling sensation in Bryan's penis; he felt the biological mechanism which sent semen shooting out of his shaft, and he felt the wonderful sensation of pleasure radiating from the tip of Bryan's penis to his balls, and then in Bryan's head, as the "mission accomplished" chemicals were released inside his brain, the feeling of sleepiness and vague euphoria.

Insemination had occurred.

********

After that, the ritual of reproduction became easier. Bryan did what he needed to do mentally in order to get to the place he needed to go, and Gloria was inseminated on an almost daily basis. Gloria, being quite the fertile turtle, found herself engorged with a fetus in only two months. She proudly showed off her not-yet-bulging belly to Bryan and kissed and hugged him. "Bryan, we're going to have a baby!"

********

Max watched from some distance away. It had been a long effort, but worth it. Once Gloria had another child, she would once again have purpose in her life.

"Good work," said a new voice.

Max turned to see the glowing form of Ronnie. "Oh, it's you. Hello there." He seemed to bump into Ronnie a lot. She claimed to be a great admirer of his. She was a Guardian as well, also trying to do good works. She told Max that she drew inspiration from his efforts.

"That's a great job you did with Gloria."

"You were watching?" Max said.

"Yeah," said Ronnie sheepishly. "I like to watch you work."

"Thanks," said Max, feeling a psychic thrill. "Have you been helping others?"

"Oh, some, here and there, but not like you," said Ronnie. "How much longer are you going to be helping Gloria out?"

"Oh, my work is done here," said Max. "I'm off to find someone else in need."

"I wish you luck," said Ronnie.

Max stared at her. "You're staying?"

"Just for a little while," said Ronnie. "I enjoy watching the happy couple."

After Max was gone, Ronnie waited a day, and then two, to be absolutely sure he was gone, and then she got to work.

*********

Gloria, who was immensely happy to be pregnant, started getting dreams.

Dreams of her baby being killed by illegal aliens.

Dreams of her baby being run over by a car driven by someone high on Weed, just like it happened to Victoria.

Dreams of her baby being torn apart limb by limb in a violent "White Lives Don't Matter" rally.

Each time she would awaken with a gasp. What was going on here?

If you have another baby, it will die, said a voice in her head.

"No!"

Yes. If you have another baby, it will die, the voice repeated.

The voice was saying terrible, terrible things. At first Gloria refused to believe them, but the voice kept working on her, day and night. Finally, after a few days, she was worn down.

"What must I do?" she said wearily.

You must get a HappyHappy.

"A HappyHappy!"

It is the only way to save your child from a short and painful life.

It took another few days of tortuous nagging to wear Gloria down even further, but finally she agreed.

Bryan of course, was not blind to the fact that something was wrong with Gloria. She was crying constantly and looking very agitated. But he attributed it to hormones, generated by the fetus which was engorged in her uterus. He hugged her gently the morning that Gloria decided to get her HappyHappy. "Everything's going to be all right," he assured her.

Gloria nodded, sniffling.

And then she got into her car and drove to the nearest black ghetto in Minneapolis. Planned Barrenhood had sprinkled HappyHappy booths on nearly every street corner. Gloria, trembling with nervousness, walked up to one even as her grav car was being stripped to its component parts behind her. The top of the HappyHappy booth opened. A holographic image of a woman who introduced herself as Oprah welcomed her, and invited her to lie down on the couch and undress. As Gloria lay down on the couch, she looked at the prizes behind a glass wall to the side, and wondered which one she would be taking home with her after the procedure was completed.....

********

Harold Priebus was a man in a lady's world. He was a fashion designer at Dick Pants, the phallus pants for girls. Phallus pants were all the rage among young girls wishing to assert their masculinity. The pants featured an internal phallus, usually a plastiform rod, which fit snugly into a pocket inside the groin area of the pants, giving the illusion of a head of a penis "pitching a tent" inside their pants. Dick Pants made money hand over fist with its advertising campaign "Dicks... for girls" as they proved wildly popular.

Most of the designers at Dick Pants were women, and what few men there were mostly assophiles (not that there was anything wrong with that!). Harold Priebus was hardly an assophobe--he harbored no fears of his own anus, as long as it did its job in the bathroom!--but neither was he an assophile--he simply failed to understand the appeal of having another man squirt his reproductive juices inside his anus, as if it might cause an ass baby to grow there. But Dick Pants was a very tolerant workplace, and men, even white men, even white heterosexual men, were welcome at the company.

But just because that was official company policy doesn't mean that Harold wasn't bullied. Stacy Sutter was a fellow designer who was very competitive with Harold. They were at a meeting with Mr. Peterson, the Marketing Director, and Harold and Stacy were showing competing phallus designs for their upcoming "Miss America Dick" designs. Stacy's design was thinner and longer, but Harold's was a bit shorter and thicker. He was convinced that women didn't merely want long phalluses, but thick ones as well.

Stacy had had the aforethought to have a female model demonstrate her design. The woman, a waifish anorexic blonde who painted her rectum with Anal Dissolve on the side, looked absolutely stunning in tight white pants with the head of the phallus making a fine imprint inside her pants. She looked like a modern 24th century woman. Mr. Peterson looked impressed. When it came time for Harold to demonstrate his phallus, he realize he had neglected to hire a model.

"That's all right, Harold," said Stacy mockingly. "Why don't you just demonstrate it yourself?"

Harold's eyebrows went up. He looked at Mr. Peterson for guidance, but his facial expressions lent no clues.

"Come on, Harold! Don't be shy!" said Stacy.

"All... all right," said Harold. He got up and took the phallus and started walking to the door.

"Where you going, boy?" said Stacy. Some of the other designers tittered.

"To... to the bathroom," Harold stammered.

"You're not taking off your pants, are you? Just shove it in, Harold!"

The girls laughed again. Harold glanced at Mr. Peterson, whose face was impassive. He didn't really care. He just wanted results.

Harold gulped and nodded. He turned away from the eight sets of eyes watching him. He had that much modesty at least. He took the phallus and tried to put it into his pants, but it was too tight. So he opened his pants, still facing away, and inserted the rod inside. Then he zipped up his pants. He wished he had a mirror, so he could first see-

"Show us!" Stacy said mockingly. "Come on, Harold, don't be a tease!"

Harold turned around slowly. He saw the expression of surprise on people's faces.

He looked down.

He saw nothing. The phallus had gone straight down. It left no imprint, nothing at all. Harold realized his mistake immediately. Dick Pants came with internal pockets, which forced the phallus to stick out. But in his pants-

"It doesn't look like you've got much going on down there, Harold," said Stacy, laughing again.

Harold turned red. "Mr. Peterson-"

"Sit down, Harold," said Peterson, speaking for the first time.

"But sir-"

"Sit down," said Peterson.

Harold sat.

"We'll go with Stacy's design," said Peterson. "Now, let's discuss our junior miss Dicks for Children line-"

*********

Harold paced furiously back and forth in his apartment. "I was a laughingstock! A fool, a complete fool!" He paced some more. "I'm going to have to quit. That's what I'll need to do."

No, that's not what you should do.

"Who said that?"

Max had arrived to help instill self-confidence in Harold. It was a difficult task, one not completed in a day or a week. Max started with small steps, the first being encouraging Harold to look into peoples' eyes and to have conversations with them. He had Harold start with coworkers who didn't make Harold especially nervous. Max egged Harold to have a conversation with Joe in the mail room and Sarah in receiving. Joe noticed that Harold spoke without stammering. Sarah was amazed to see Harold looking her in the eye.

And then Harold went to talk to Amy Whitbread in finance. Amy was a cute brown haired girl in her mid twenties. She always had a smile for Harold when she walked buy. When Harold started to talk to her, he found himself stammering and looking at her sensible mid-western breasts.

Eyes, Harold, look at her eyes!

"-the first budget reports are due any day now," Amy said.

"Interesting!" said Harold. He struggled to keep focused on her bright green eyes, but inevitably, they would fall back down to her breasts.

Max was a powerful Phantasm; he could take control of bodies at will. But he so rarely did that. He saw his role as one of advisor, cheerleader, and encourager; but in this instance, he violated his own rule and took control. Max took control of Harold's eyes and glued them to Amy's face. Every once in a while he would look left and right, so the constant staring wouldn't make Amy think he was a serial killer.

Amy smiled, unconsciously recognizing there was something different about Harold but not sure what it was. While Max was at it, he pasted a smile on Harold's face. Amy looked startled.

"What's wrong?" said Harold.

"I don't know. You just look... more confident than usual," said Amy.

And to Max's great pleasure, Harold stood up tall, reasserted control over his eyes, and had a normal conversation with Amy Whitbread. When he was done, and he walked away, Max told him Congratulations.

"Thanks!"

You like her, don't you?

"What?"

You're attracted to her.

"I don't know."

I think you do. Is she single?

"Maybe."

You should ask her out.

"Uh... Maybe."

After these simple confidence building exercises, Max moved on to more challenging tasks. During group meetings of the marketing team, Harold was usually too shy to speak up. Max challenged him not only to speak up, but to ask Mr. Peterson for a copy of the latest female erection marketing analysis.

"I can't ask him for that!" Harold said.

Why not?

"I've never been given that report before!"

You've also never asked for it.

"Why do you want me to ask for it?"

To show that you can.

"What if he says no?"

If you ask confidently, it won't matter either way. It's a training exercise, Harold.

And so, at the next marketing meeting, after a hearty discussion over surveys showing that women with larger breasts wanted to have bigger erections, Mr. Peterson looked around and perfunctorily asked, "Before we end the meeting, are there any other comments? No? Good-"

"Mr. Peterson!"

Everyone looked at Harold. Harold never spoke at these meetings unless spoken too.

"Yes?" said Mr. Peterson.

"I'd... I'd like to see a copy of the female erection marketing analysis. Sir."

Harold felt all eyes on him as the room was silent. Mr. Peterson stared at him as if he were some kind of interesting new bug. Then he nodded, and got up and left.

You did it! See how the others are looking at you.

Harold noticed the stares. They all think I'm weird.

No. They're all starting to respect you, Harold.

The following day, Stacy Sutter gave the team a report on what she was working on. Then she said that she had formulated an idea for a new kind of survey to ask women if they'd like to see larger shafts in their Dick Pants.

"That sounds like a good idea, Stacy," said Mr. Peterson.

That was my idea!

What?

She stole my idea! I suggested this at our last subgroup meeting!

Then speak up, Harold.

No!

Harold!

"Ow!" Harold cried.

All eyes turned to Harold. All of a sudden, his feet had turned red hot.

"What, Harold?" said Mr. Peterson.

Harold's feet were no longer burning. He felt all eyes on him. He licked his lips. "The survey was my idea, sir, not Stacy's."

Mr. Peterson looked at Stacy.

"Was it?" said Stacy innocently. Stacy was beautiful, in her late 20's with a large bosom and long, flowing blonde hair. With her dick pants on showing an erection in her crotch she looked positively gorgeous, which enabled her to get away with a lot of things that other people couldn't.

"If you like I can pull up the groupmails showing it was my idea," said Harold.

Stacy blinked. "Oh. In that case, maybe you're right. Maybe you did come up with it. Sorry, Harold," she said, giving him a teasing smile.

Mr. Peterson looked from Stacy to Harold, and nodded.

********

People were definitely talking about Harold's new assertiveness after the meeting, and giving him odd looks. Stacy herself came over to him. "Thanks for setting me straight, Harold. I wouldn't want to take credit for one of your ideas." She smiled him and walked away, wiggling her hips slowly.

That one will only plant the knife in you when your back is turned.

Yeah.

********

Harold had the idea for a new design, a new kind of Dick Pants. But he was afraid to show it at the group meeting.

Harold, if you want to get ahead, you have to get noticed.

"But what if people don't like my idea?"

Is it a good idea?

"I... I think so. But most designers are women, or men who like ass sex with other men. I'm... I'm just a heterosexual white male... can I really design with the best of them?"

Harold, being good at designing women's clothing doesn't require that you be a woman. Nor does it require that you enjoy having men squirting semen deep inside your bowels. What it does require is common sense and a good sense of aesthetics. Now, is it a good design?

"Yes."

Then propose it at the next planning session.

********

The planning session reviewed most of the proposals for the next season. Stacy came up with the idea for a rotating shaft that was very popular. And then it was Max's turn. He signaled for a female model to come out modeling his idea for a new version of Dick Pants, and the audience gasped.

"Introducing... Dick Skirts!" said Harold. The audience gasped again, as they saw a model wearing a skirt which had the imprint of a penis sticking out of it. "Girls want to be feminine. But they also want to have their penises. They shouldn't have to decide between their penises and their skirts when going out on a fun filled night on the town. That's why I think we should introduce Dick Skirts. It also comes in a miniskirt version. Hillary Rodham?" he said, calling the next model in. A new model stepped into the room wearing a Dick Miniskirt. In a miniskirt, her phallus imprint was even more prominent.

"What woman wouldn't want to be seen in that?" Harold said. Suddenly, he realized how transformed he had become. He was full of confidence, making a presentation in front of coworkers and bosses. How had he come so far?

"Note the impression created by the shaft. It's not just the tip of the phallus we're seeing the outlines of," said Harold. "I think girls who want a really manly look will just love them. What do you think, Mr. Peterson?"

Mr. Peterson tried to form words. Finally, he simply breathed a single word.

"Brilliant."

********

Harold got a raise, and a promotion. He actually became Stacy Sutton's boss as Senior Heterosexual Designer for Team Two. Amy Whitbread came by to congratulate him. She gave him a hug and said, "Good work, Harold." She looked at him slyly. "Say, would you like to go out for drinks after work to celebrate?"

"I'd love it, babe," said Harold, pointing a confident finger at her and making "click click" sounds with his mouth as he winked at her. Amy tittered and turned away as she realized her erect nipples were showing.

When she was gone, Harold said. "Thank you so much, Max."

It was all inside of you, Harold. All I did was make you realize what you could become.

********

That evening, Max watched from a distance as Harold flirted with Amy Whitbread at the bar. After a few drinks, he confidently gave her a kiss. She laughed and kissed him back. It wasn't so long before he was furtively fondling her sensible Midwestern breasts.

"Harold!" She squealed. "Not in public!"

"In private, maybe?" Harold smiled.

"Maybe," she said, wiggling her shoulders. "You've changed, Harold." She looked down. "Say, are you wearing your Dick Pants now, or are you just happy to see me?"

Max sat with a satisfied smile at a distant table.

"Another job well done," said Ronnie, appearing in cloaked form at his side.

"You again!" said Max, with a smile. "How do you always find me?"

"I'm attracted to good works," said Ronnie.

"Yeah. Yeah, I have something similar, except I'm attracted to people who need help," said Max.

"He looks so happy. You did a fine job on him. You should be very proud," said Ronnie.

"Thanks. That means a lot to me," said Max. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, this and that," said Ronnie.

********

A few days later, Harold requested a meeting with Mr. Jordan, the owner of Dick Pants. Mr. Jordan's father, Dick, had started Dick Pants 44 years ago and Mr. Jordan had taken over the franchise from his dad just last year.

"Mr. Jordan, I want to talk with you about Dick Skirts," said Harold.

"Yes," said Mr. Jordan. "I hear we showed the designs for our buyers, and they're already wild for it! We have preorders for the next two months!"

"That's really great," said Harold. "I'd like to talk about my royalties."

"Royalties?"

Harold had gradually gotten the idea over the past few days. A little voice told him in his head that he wasn't being properly appreciated for what he had done for Dick Pants. Dick Skirts was going to make the company millions of dollars! And yet all they had done was give him a paltry raise and made him senior heterosexual in his little work group. He deserved more, the voice told him. And So Harold filed a provisional patent for Dick Skirts.

He explained to Mr. Jordan what he had done. "I'd be happy to license the concept to you, of course, perhaps for a combination of a flat fee and a percentage the gross... say, maybe two million up front?"

"Two million?" said Mr. Jordan.

"That presumes that you give me at least 7% of the gross. If you want to give me less, than we have to increase the upfront payment," said Harold.

"I see," said Mr. Jordan.

Harold was out of a job by the end of the day, escorted out of the office by 90 pound security girls. Amy Whitbread suddenly stopped returning his calls, even after the very successful act of coitus they had had just two days earlier. And so Harold was once again unemployed and alone. The last thing to flee from him, as he stood on a World Government line for unemployment handouts, was his self-confidence.

********

Felix O'Neil was fast running out of patience with his wife, Lisa. When they had gotten married, four years ago, they had seemed to be an unlikely pair. Felix was a four dimensional banker. Lisa was an activist with the White Lives Don't Matter movement. Lisa, who was white, felt that American society was inherently racist, valuing white lives over black, brown, and pink ones. The solution, she felt, was to devalue white lives until they were on an equal footing with everyone else's. She lobbied governments and the police to pay less attention to white victims of crime, and to do more to put more white people in jail even if they committed more non-violent, "whiter" kinds of crime. Every time a white person forged a credit payment, it was equivalent to a black, brown or pink man robbing a liquor store with a blaster pistol, she figured.

Despite their disparate background, they fell in love when they met at a fundraiser to raise money to fund gourmet meals for people in prison. Proper nutrition was essential to keep incarcerated peoples' spirits up. Felix didn't care about that; he just knew that girls with pretty bodies attended such mixers. It was there he met Lisa. They danced, they kissed, and by date three, right on schedule, they were engaging in the ritual of reproduction. They were married six months later.

But marriages changed people, as they often did. Lisa became less and less devoted over time and more and more demanding. When they both would come home from work, Lisa would complain about her coworkers, or go on long rants about the long and lonely struggle for racial equality. She also often toyed with the idea of becoming a transracial black woman; that is, officially registering herself as a black woman trapped inside the body of a white woman. She had felt that way all her life, and-

And Felix didn't want to hear it. All the romance was gone from their relationship. But Lisa was oblivious, even as Felix consulted a lawyer and prepared to file for divorce.

And then one day, Lisa heard a voice in her head in the shower.

**********

Hey there.

"Who is that?" said Lisa. She looked down. The voice seemed to come from her breasts.

No, it's not your breasts talking to you. It's me.

"Me, who?"

My name is Max.

"Where are you, Max? More to the point, what are you?"

It's complicated. You could just say I'm your guardian angel.

"I follow the She-Goddess Aura. If there are guardian angels, they are definitely, definitely female."

Well, they started an affirmative action program for men. I'm their first recruit.

Really?

Really. Listen, I didn't come here to talk to you about that. Do you realize your marriage to Felix is in jeopardy?

"What?"

He's planning to divorce you.

"No. Never. Not my Felix."

He's not your Felix. He hasn't been your Felix in a long time.

"Really?" Lisa looked down at her breasts. "Why would Felix want to divorce me?"

You really don't know?

Lisa, still completely nude, put her hands on her hips, as water streamed down into her pubic hair. "I really don't know."

You don't show him affection, Lisa.

"I do!"

You don't. When you come home from work, all you do is complain about the people at work.

"I'm just talking about my day!"

Uh huh. Or you give a diatribe about racial justice.

"I'm a passionate woman!"

Or you complain about your mother. Or you talk about buying those new Dick Skirts they're coming out with. Felix doesn't even have to be there for any of these conversations to take place. Do you ever notice that when you're with him, you never give him a chance to say a word?

"Felix likes to listen."

No. You like to make Felix listen.

Reality suddenly hit Lisa like a hammer. "Felix is really going to leave me?"

Yes.

"Oh my Goddess!" Lisa slammed her back against the wall of the shower. She squeezed one of her flabby white breasts. "I'll have to get a divorce lawyer. Sheila... she knows someone at Rabinowitz and Rabinowitz. I can-"

Or... you could try to win Felix back.

"It's not too late?"

Not if you make a real effort.

"And how do I do that?"

********

One more week. Felix took a deep breath as he entered his home. His divorce lawyer at Schmaltzman, Smcheky & Zecky, Leonard Schmaltzman himself, had told him he just needed one more week to get the proposed divorce settlement ready. He would spring it on Lisa and push her to agree. All he had to do was endure one more week. He gritted his teeth as he entered the door. What would she be babbling about tonight? Complaints about her supervisor, Patty? Ruminations about redecorating the apartment? Or just a general rant about white privilege?

Instead, when he stepped into the kitchen, he saw a candlelit dinner laid out before him. Lisa was wearing a sexy black dress which showed off her breasts! Her breasts, which were usually covered in bulky sweaters, were on prominent display.

And Lisa herself--she had straightened her hair, and she was wearing makeup and lipstick.

"What's going on?" Felix asked.

"Nothing's going on. I have dinner ready for you, dear."

Dinner ready for him? Felix usually had to cook for himself, as Lisa was too exhausted after a day of racial agitation.

Felix sat down at the dinner table.

"It's your favorite, Roast Beast."

Lisa was a vegetarian.

"What's going on, Lisa?" Had she poisoned the Roast Beast? No, even Lisa would never do that.

"I just thought we could do something... different... tonight," She said, leaning over to put a napkin on his lap. As she did, he got an even better view of her breasts.

And then it hit Felix like a hammer.

He was going to score some sex with Lisa tonight.

Felix hadn't had sex with Lisa in months. She was either on her period, recovering from her period, or preparing to have her period very shortly. There were any number of excuses. The few times she agreed to sleep with him left a sour taste in Felix's mouth. Lisa acted like she was doing him a favor. One time she even agreed to have sex by saying, "Well, I guess the dog has to be fed periodically", which made him so angry that he wanted to slap her.

But that wasn't the Lisa in bed with him this evening. This Lisa was fully attentive. This Lisa oohed and aahed as he plowed in and out of her.

All the while, Lisa was having a dialogue inside her head with Max.

But it doesn't really feel that great.

It doesn't matter. You want him to think it does. Now, moan, Lisa.

"Uh uhuhuhuh," Lisa moaned.

That sounds like you're dying. I want you to moan with passion. I want you to moan like having him inside you is the greatest experience in your life!

It's... it's ok, I suppose.

I want you to moan like you're about to have divorce papers served on you in the morning.

"Ooooooh!" Lisa cried, arching her back up.

Again!

"Aaaaaah!" Lisa cried.

Felix felt a familiar tingling in his penis. "Good?"

"Yesssss," Lisa hissed, with a smile. And even though it didn't really feel that good, the fact that she saw that it was making Felix feel good rebounded on her and made her enjoy it more.

There, you're learning something. Now keep moaning. And get ready to fake an orgasm.

You want me to fake my orgasm? What kind of woman would I be if I did that?

The kind that is still married in the morning.

Lisa groaned with pleasure as she smiled up at her husband. She was amazed to see a direct correlation between her moans and Felix's sexual pleasure. It almost seemed like her voice could bring him to orgasm, but that's what seemed to happen when Lisa cried, "Ahh... ah... ahhhhh!" and had the greatest theatrical orgasm of her life.

Felix made a pained face, and cried out a few seconds later, and flooded her with his sperm. He hadn't even taken testicle blockers beforehand; she could even get pregnant. Somehow, the risk she was taking excited her.

Afterwards, they lay in bed together, holding hands and looking in each others' eyes. "It... it hasn't been like that in a while," said Felix.

You're right! He is planning to divorce me!

Tell him you love him.

"I... I love you so much. Sometimes... I just have trouble expressing it," said Lisa, as she pressed her vagina against his flaccid organ. She smiled when Felix jumped slightly.

Felix gave her a mysterious smile.

"You know, I was thinking about inviting my mother for dinner this weekend," said Lisa.

Lisa, what are you doing?

"If I did, I wonder what I would cook for her? She likes Italian, but I hate Italian food. Maybe Greek?"

The smile faded from Felix's face. His penis literally shrunk an inch.

Lisa, stop.

Stop what?

Where are you?

In bed.

With whom?

Felix.

Who is your...

Husband?

Right! And what have you been doing?

Having sex?

Right again! How would you describe the mood five minutes ago?

Incredibly romantic!

And now?

Now? Oh.

Oh indeed.

Lisa grabbed Felix and hugged and kissed him. "I love you so much," she said, pressing her small breasts against his. That brought a smile back to his face.

*********

There was an old saying: Rome wasn't built in a day. Neither was Lisa. It was just so ingrained for her to talk about all her problems with Felix that she kept doing it. Max tried to help her, but simply saying stop didn't get her attention so quickly. Nor did his reminders last very long.

So Max reluctantly settled on a new method of training Lisa. Every time she talked about a boring subject with Felix, she would feel a brief but sharp pain in her head.

A typical evening at dinner might go like this:

"How are you doing, dear?" said Felix.

"I'm tired," said Lisa. "There's so much white racism in the world. Ow!" She winced as she felt a sharp pain in her head. The pain left her as soon as it came.

"Are you all right?" Felix asked.

"I'm fine," said Lisa, smiling. But five minutes later, she was back at it again, complaining about how her mother made her so angry on a holocall earlier in the day that she just wanted to- "Ow!" she cried again.

"Head again?" said Felix.

"Yeah."

"Maybe you should take a pain reliever," said Felix.

"Maybe," said Lisa. "Did you hear about that study which said that pain relievers didn't work as well for women as for-Ow!" she winced again.

*********

Max was very honest with himself. Not only had he broken the First Law, the Circle's rule against letting hosts know of his existence; and not only had he broken the Second Law, the Circle's rule against interfering with hosts; but now he had finally broken the final barrier, and broken the Third Law, the rule against causing harm to hosts.

It was true, the pain he was inflicting on Lisa was brief, and meant to train her, but it was pain nonetheless. If the Circle caught up with him again, they would not take such a charitable view of his activities. They might even try to subject him to forcible dissolution.

But Max felt compelled to continue. Pain was an excellent teacher, and Lisa learned slowly, but she did learn. Soon she learned what topics to avoid.

"So... I can never talk to him about subjects that are important to me?"

Of course you can. But in moderation. A big chunk of your interaction should be smiling and flirting.

"Smiling and flirting? That's not me!"

Is being divorced more like your true self?

"Wait. Smiling and flirting... it's all coming back to me now... maybe it is me."

Lisa improved over a matter of weeks. Soon she was smiling and flirting with Felix. His divorce papers, which were ready to go, were almost forgotten. Almost.

There's one last skill you have to learn.

"What's that?"

How to have a conversation.

"I thought I've been doing that!"

You've been having monologues. You need to learn how to have a back and forth. You should speak for no more than 30 seconds at a time.

"30 seconds! That's way too short! And what happens then?"

30 seconds. Either end your 30 seconds with a question, or a statement. Give Felix time to respond.

"How much time?"

A few seconds. Talk for 30 seconds, say Cha-cha, cha-cha-cha, cha-cha, cha-cha-cha in your mind, and if he hadn't responded, then you can speak for another 30 seconds.

"You make it sound like a dance."

It is exactly like a dance. But for the bulk of your marriage, you've been dancing alone with your eyes closed and stepping on your husband's feet.

And so Lisa finally learned how to have a conversation. She talked for 30 seconds. "I wonder what holofilms are coming out this spring." Cha-cha, cha-cha-cha, cha-cha-

"I think Gerhard Musclehegger has a new action film," said Felix.

Lisa laughed. "He always looks so goofy! But I like his German accent-" she spoke for 30 seconds, and then stopped. Cha-cha, cha-cha-cha, cha-cha-

And to her complete and utter amazement, Felix picked up the ball. Felix, her silent husband, was having an actual conversation with her. Lisa and Felix were both surprised with each other. They spent several hours talking about... all different things. Time flew by quickly.

"You were right," Lisa told Max later in the bathroom, as she squatted over the toilet and played with her pubic hair. "Talking is just like a dance."

You've come a long way, Lisa. And now my job is done.

"You're leaving?" Lisa sat up abruptly, interrupting the urine stream.

"My work is done here," said Max, as he smoothly floated out of her body.

*********

A week later, Felix was no longer thinking of divorce. He had a great relationship with a loving wife. Life was grand.

And yet... it could be even better. At least, that's what a little voice inside his head told him.

Better in what way? Felix wondered silently.

The voice fed him several ideas.

********

The first time Felix wanted to try something new, Lisa was open to it. Or at least, somewhat open to it, until Felix described what he wanted. Lisa was reluctant, but her marriage had become so good, so positive, that she wanted to do anything to please him.

And so for the first time she took a man inside her mouth and tried to please him in a different way. But Felix didn't show any of his customary patience; he thrusted hard and roughly into her, making her gag. And when he finally climaxed, he was totally self absorbed, eyes closed, with a wide smile, as he shot his seed into the back of her throat.

Felix enjoyed using this new entrance, until the voice introduced him to an even better one. Lisa turned pale when he suggested it. "In my ass? Felix, no."

"Why not?" said Felix. "After all, the World Government recommends that sexually active couples have two healthy servings of ass sex a week." He had reviewed the World Government's Healthy Sex Pyramid diagram just to be sure.

Lisa had no ready answer for that. And also, she still felt vulnerable, as if Felix might still divorce her. And so... she submitted.

********

Lisa was on her hands and knees, as Felix entered her from behind. She gasped as Felix used her roughly. Felix smiled. As he poled in and out of her, the voice in his head assured him, she's a fuck toy; just a fuck toy for you to use and abuse.

And that's how Lisa's marriage was saved.

********

Donald Pleasance didn't get along with his wife Debbie's mother, Eliza Kunstman. Eliza, like Lisa O'Neil, was active in the White Lives Don't Matter movement. She was also an active member of Make Trees Not People, Socialist Vegetarians of America, The Male Reparations Smallgroup, and Goodbye Israel, Hello, Palestine. Her politics didn't mesh with Donald, a real estate investor, one of the members of the increasingly dwindling bourgeoisie that the World Government was trying to eliminate.

Whenever Eliza would come over, political discussions would start and sparks would fly. It got so bad that Donald was seriously considering banning Eliza from his home, which would have caused a great deal of problems with Debbie. And then... all of a sudden, Eliza changed. She stopped talking about politics entirely, as if social justice no longer existed. She baked cookies. She smiled. She talked about holomovies and grandchildren. She acted normally.

Donald repeatedly interrogated his wife to find out what had happened. But Debbie was just as clueless as he was. Eliza had just turned... nice. To his surprise, Donald started to warm up to her.

He even started looking forward to her visits. And so, it was to his great surprise that when Eliza showed up the following weekend, it was the Old Eliza who had returned.

"There are too many men in the world," said Eliza, making a face.

"What, Mother?" said Debbie.

"Too many men," said Eliza, casting a glance at Donald. "Too much testosterone. Too much male aggression. Tell me, dear, why did you ever give up your last name and take Donald's as your own?"

Maybe because I hated the sound of Kunstman? Debbie thought.

In the space of five minutes, Eliza got Donald's blood boiling. She went from questioning men in general to Donald specifically. She said out loud that Debbie would be better off, far better off if she found a better man to live with.

Donald was enraged. He got up and ordered Eliza to leave the house. She refused. He was preparing to throw her bodily out of his house, with Debbie screaming in the background, when suddenly a man appeared in their living room. A man, just like that.

"What in the world are you doing?" said the man.

No one knew who the man was, but Eliza recognized his voice. His had been the voice that had been training her for several weeks not to be so obnoxious. At least, that was before the different voice entered her head and told her that Donald was the worst thing that ever happened to her little girl-

The man strode forward and seemed to reach inside of Eliza. She gasped, feeling an odd tingling. The man pulled his hand out of her, and as he did, he seemed to be pulling a glowing form, a glowing outline of a person with red eyes.

"A Lemure. I should have known," said Max.

"Yes, you should have," Ronnie sneered. "But you were so consumed with pride over your so-called great works."

"And what makes you proud? Ripping families apart?" Max, making spot checks to people he had helped, had only recently realized that all the people he had helped were now in dire straits. After working on Gloria Conrad to get pregnant again, she went and got a HappyHappy, losing the baby (but gaining a blender). Harold Priebus was unemployed and had lost his girlfriend with her sensible mid-western breasts. Lisa O'Neil was enduring unpleasant ass sex twice a week. And now this.

"These poor families," Ronnie sneered. "Well, I led a miserable life. I never had a loving husband, or loving children. Why should anyone else have it better than I did?"

"And so that's it," said Max. "You led an unhappy life, and so you're sticking around to make sure that everyone else's life is as unhappy as yours."

"You got it, buster."

Max took a deep breath. "I think it's time to end you."

"Catch me if you can." Ronnie flew up, through the ceiling, and disappeared.

Max's first instinct was to follow. But he delayed, for just a moment. He was suddenly aware that Donald Pleasance, his wife Debbie, and her mother Eliza were staring at him with open mouths, as they had watched him talk to a ghost.

"I know this is all a lot for you to take in," said Max. "And I don't really have time to explain." He pointed at Eliza. "You. Remember what it was like, just a week ago when you had good relations with your son in law? The son in law who will someday be the father of your grandchildren, the same son in law who could deny you visitation rights if you keep acting like a self-righteous bitch." He pointed at Donald. "And you. Somewhere, buried deep inside of this woman, is the ability to be kind and caring. Give her another chance, and she'll show it to you."

They stared at him with open mouths and wide eyes.

"Good luck," Max added, as his body sparkled, and then vanished.

********

Ronnie had finally lost him.

She had been on the run for weeks. Somehow, Max was tracking her. Whenever she would pause for a respite, he would appear, and she would have to flee again. She knew that next time, Max would show her no mercy.

Ronnie fled across the continental United States. Lemures could not move faster than people. She could ride inside a car, or a stratoliner, especially if she was inside a host, but otherwise she could move little faster than a person on the run.

Finally, Max stopped appearing. She waited a day, two days, then three, just to be sure. He had probably gone back to help all those people whose lives she had destroyed. Ronnie chuckled as she imagined Max trying to get Gloria Conrad pregnant again, or weaning Felix O'Neil off his newly acquired taste for ass sex with his wife. Yes, he would be kept busy for some time.

Ronnie floated around, looking for trouble. She had lied when she said she had the ability to detect "good works"; she simply had been keeping an eye on Max. But what she did have was the same ability Max did, to detect people in crisis. Soon she found a new potential victim, and smiled. It wouldn't be as fun as undoing one of Max's charitable efforts; but it would still be pleasurable.

********

Matty Rosenfeld was pregnant. She had been trying to get pregnant for two years now, and had gotten frantic about it. She so much wanted to reproduce! But then one night her husband Seymour squirted her in just the right spot, and a few weeks later she discovered she was pregnant!

Matty was overjoyed. Overjoyed, at least, until she heard a voice in her head, a voice telling her that her baby would destroy the planet. The planet was already overcrowded, the voice said. Babies only made Temperature Change worse. Babies would cause the polar ice caps to melt and drown all the polar bears.

The more Matty heard the voice, the more depressed she got. And then the voice suggested a solution: get a HappyHappy.

"No!" Matty cried. "I'll never get a HappyHappy!"

The voice knew she would. It was just a matter of time. The voice started working on her more intensely, and then-

A glowing hand reached inside of Matty and pulled Ronnie out of her. Ronnie gasped as she saw two ghostly figures. One, in the glowing shape of a man, held the other, a glowing shape of a woman with red eyes.

"Your time is up, Ronnie," said the male figure. He put both his ghostly hands on her, and there were enormous sparks of power.

"Nooooooo!" the female figure cried. But even as she cried, the sparks intensified, and the female grew more and more faint. "Noooo!" she cried, much more faintly. And then she vanished.

The glowing man looked at Matty. "Have your baby. There is no man made Temperature Change. Polar bears can swim just fine. Got it?"

Matty nodded.

"Good." And then the man vanished.

********

Max's experience with Ronnie had unsettled him. He had never killed anyone before. But he knew it had to be done. He wondered what had happened to Ronnie. Had she simply died, or Moved On? He would never know.

Max resolved to repair the damage she had done, however he could. And so, before long, he found himself inside of Felix O'Neil, as he in turn was busy pounding inside of his wife Lisa's ass. Felix was standing behind his wife, who was submissively on her hands and knees as he entered her from behind.

You don't want ass sex with Lisa, Felix.

Why? It feels so good!

Because it's degrading for the both of you. Max gritted his teeth. While he was inside of Felix, he felt what Felix felt. And right now, Felix felt the pleasure of thrusting inside his wife's anus. Lisa was cooperating, but she clearly wasn't happy about it.

Max felt terrible, but he had to put an end to this. He caused Felix to feel a twinge of pain in his head. And then another.

"Ow!" said Felix. Then again, "Ow! Stop that!"

"Yes, stop that," said a new voice.

Felix and Lisa looked up. There was a strange man in a floppy hat and black coat in his bedroom, as well as a young woman. Both were aiming odd guns at them.

"What's happening?" Lisa screamed, as she scrambled forward to burrow under the sheets, causing Felix's phallus, glistening with excrement and mucous, to become publically exposed. Felix covered himself with a pillow.

The Doctor said, "Pardon the interruption. But we're here for... you, I think," he said, pointing at Felix.

How can you tell, Doctor?

My hair always curls when I'm around a ghoul.

You're around me.

My hair has been curling quite a bit lately.

"Wait!" Said Felix, holding up his hands, incidentally dropping the pillow which covered his male sex organ which was slathered with Lisa's feces.

"Wait for what?" said Sophie, looking with interest.

"Sophie, cover your eyes," said the Doctor.

"I will not," said Sophie. "I've seen this before."

"Really? Where?"

While they argued, a ghostly shape came out of Felix's body. He gasped as he was exited. The shape solidified and formed a human looking body, without the hint of a glow.

"A Poltergeist?" said the Doctor, raising his weapon. "Are you the Penguin?"

"The who?" said Max. "No, my name is Max."

Max!

"Alanna, do you know this ghoul?" the Doctor asked.

It's Max!

"That doesn't explain very much," said the Doctor.

"May I speak through you, Doctor?" said Alanna.

"You seem to be doing so," the Doctor growled.

"Max... is that you?" said Alanna.

Max's eyes narrowed. He reached out with his senses... "Alanna?"

"It is you! Doctor, this is Max."

"So nice to meet you," said the Doctor dryly. "Now, would you care to explain what is going on?"

"Max... Max is a Guardian, Doctor," said Alanna. "He violates the three laws-"

"Not all three. Just the first two. I never hurt anyone," said Max.

"That man who just cried out in pain might disagree," said the Doctor, smiling.

"I was helping undo the damage done by an evil kalak, who had conditioned him to perform unsocial acts," said Max. "Alanna, it's so good to see you! Is this your new... Samaritan?"

"Not in a million years," said the Doctor, tightening his grip on his Infinite Infinity Repeater. "Alanna, would you care to explain?"

"I'm trying to, if you both would stop interrupting."

Neither the Doctor or Max spoke. Even Lisa and Felix sat silently, watching.

"Thank you," said Alanna. "Technically, Max is a fugitive from the Circle. He intervenes when he's not supposed to. There's a warrant out for his apprehension-"

"Is that why you're here, Alanna? To bring me in?" said Max.

"No! We're after the Penguin," said Alanna.

"The Penguin? Oh. Oh yes, I've heard of him. He's bad news," said Max.

"We've been tracking him. Lately we've been following the trail of an associate whose psychic DNA trail has mingled with his. That led us here," said Alanna. "Max, have you been talking to the Penguin?"

"No! Never! I never would!" said Max.

"And yet... the trail led us here," said Alanna.

"It must have been Ronnie," said Max.

"Ronnie?"

"A Lemure who's been trailing me, undoing all the good acts I've been doing."

"Good acts?" said the Doctor.

"Yes, good acts," said Max. "I give people confidence. I help them grieve. I help families get their lives back together."

"And what would you describe what you were doing when we found you here? Couples therapy?" said the Doctor.

"Yes, if you must know," said Max. "She," and he pointed to Lisa, "Wasn't being a very loving wife. I taught her how to be affectionate again before her husband divorced her."

"You did?" said Felix, looking from Max to Lisa.

"He gave me a few pointers," said Lisa, reddening.

"You knew... you knew I was going to divorce you?" said Felix.

"He told me," said Lisa.

"And then, Ronnie showed up," said Max. "She persuaded him," he pointed to Felix, "to sexually abuse her," and he pointed at Lisa. "I was just trying to undo the damage."

"That... that wasn't your idea? All the ass sex?" said Lisa.

"I... it... it was some kind of... voice, in my head." Felix frowned, and looked down at his excrement covered penis. "I don't even like ass sex!"

"Oh Felix!" Lisa cried, and she hugged him.

"So you see, this is what I was doing here," said Max.

"That still doesn't give you the right to manipulate people," said the Doctor. "In my book, you're still a ghoul. Maybe you were helping these two. Maybe you weren't. But who knows what else you've done to others? There's only one way to be sure." And he slowly raised his Infinite Infinity Repeater.

"NO!" Alanna cried, through his mouth. "Doctor, please don't!"

"Are you going to stop me, Alanna?" said the Doctor. "Are you going to take control of my body again?" His gun hand was trembling.

"Doctor, PLEASE. Please don't do this! Max violated the rules, but he's a good kalak!"

"There's no such thing as a good ghoul," said the Doctor, tensing up.

And then Sophie was by his side. "Please, Doctor. Don't."

The Doctor looked into her sparkling green eyes for a moment. Then he slowly lowered his weapon.

"Thank you," said Alanna.

"I didn't do it for you," said the Doctor. He turned to Max. "You're free to go."

"Thanks," said Max. He turned to Lisa and Felix. "Are you two on the same page? More affection, less ass sex?"

Lisa and Felix solemnly nodded.

"All right, I'm good," Max declared. He looked at Alanna. "Good to see you, Alanna. Don't be a stranger." And then he vanished.

"He just vanished, Doctor," said Sophie. "He was solid, and then he wasn't."

"I noticed," said the Doctor.

"Max is very special," said Alanna. "He has all the properties of a Poltergeist, but none of the malignancy. Doctor, thank you again for sparing his life."

"I told you, I didn't do it for you," the Doctor replied.

"I know what you told me," said Alanna.

The Doctor turned to Lisa and Felix. "Are you going to be all right?"

Lisa nodded, followed by Felix.

The Doctor stepped forward and inspected Felix's penis. "You better get that washed off. Feces has all kinds of nasty bacterium." He turned to Sophie. "All right, let's go."

As they were walking out, the Doctor could be heard to say, "So Sophie... just where did you say you saw one of those before?"

*********

That night was different. After Alanna gave him his customary back massage to help him sleep, the Doctor felt a distinct pressure on his lips, as if the nerve endings there had been stimulated. It felt almost like a....

"What was that for?" the Doctor asked, his eyes closed.

"For nothing, Doctor," said Alanna, through him. "Nothing at all." She paused. "You once told me that after this mission is over, you are going to hunt me down and destroy me. Do you still plan to do it, Doctor?"

"Of course," said the Doctor simply.

And then, as the Doctor dropped off to sleep, lying on his side, he felt the illusion of warmth against his chest....