Carson Evolved Ch. 09

Crying softly, Cara could only nod her head sadly. She reached out and stroked her husband's cheek. "You're a better man than you give yourself credit for, Stephen. Not many people would make the kind of sacrifice that you're making. I want you to know that I'll always love you, and I'll cherish the time that we had together." She leaned forward and softly kissed his lips, tracing his mouth with her fingertips one last time afterwards. "I'm going to stay with Sam for a while. I know they have room. I'll let you know when I have a lawyer to help settle the divorce, but I won't fight you on anything."

Stephen watched her as she navigated the little house they'd shared, gathering this thing or that. He couldn't help but think that, while he was definitely sad to see her go, he felt a new lightness in his spirit to know that he could do this for her. He'd always needed her more than she needed him; that had been obvious from the very earliest days of their relationship. It had been a nagging doubt in the back of his mind long before the accident that claimed his ability to walk. This felt like he was tying up a loose end than anything else.

Before long, Cara had a pile of bags gathered near the door. She turned to him and said, "Is it okay if I come back for anything I missed?"

He assured her that she could come and go as often as she needed to. Cara thanked him and turned to leave before turning back. She asked, "Are you sure that this is what you want? If I walk out this door, I'm not coming back. But if you say so, I'll unpack and we'll work to make things better."

He indulged her with a smile, despite the tears in his eyes. "This is the right thing for both of us. I know it, and I think you do too. We'd just be prolonging the inevitable."

Cara nodded in agreement before shouldering her first bag and beginning the process of starting a new life.

Less than an hour later, only late afternoon, Cara arrived at the home Carson shared with her niece and his other wives. And his harem, Cara thought. She sat in her vehicle for a moment, gathering her wits. For the first time in years, she was feeling like a woman with a future, and the thought was causing her to feel guilt over abandoning a man who obviously loved her more than she'd thought possible. Maybe Sam and Carson can find a way to help him from behind the scenes. They said they have a lot of resources, she thought. Shaking off her guilt momentarily, she took a deep breath and exited the vehicle.

She knocked on the door, and a distinguished looking man wearing a coat and tie answered the door. "Ah, Mrs. Dekker, welcome back." Henry stood back to allow her room to enter.

Cara smiled at the butler as she entered, saying, "Thank you, Henry. I didn't know if you'd recognize me."

Henry winked at her and said, "I assure you, ma'am, you are utterly unforgettable. But if I were to forget in my advanced years, they've been kind enough to provide me with technological backup." He indicated a display screen beside the door. "Visitors to the house are automatically logged and filed for future reference," Henry explained. "If they return, then the surveillance system simply notifies the staff of who to expect. It's for security," he finished, apologetically.

"That's very impressive," she replied. "Is my niece here?"

"I'm afraid Ms. Cross is away this afternoon. However, I was given strict instructions to assist you in getting settled in. She seemed to be under the impression that the next time that you visited us, it might be on a more long-term basis?"

Cara was stunned at the presumption of her niece, but quickly shook it off. "She must know me better than I know myself. I didn't expect to be here today until a little while ago."

"I've observed that Ms. Cross is a very perceptive woman," replied Henry. "Please," he said, gesturing towards the living room, "Make yourself at home. If I could borrow the access chip for your vehicle, the staff will take care of moving your belongings into your room." Cara smiled and handed it over. A girl could get used to this, she thought.

Walking into the living room, she was pleasantly surprised to find Carson's mother-in-law sitting quietly, reading a book. When the pregnant woman saw her, she began to rise, but Cara rushed to stop her. "Please, don't get up on my account." She took a seat next to Helena, who smiled in gratitude.

"It seemed a lot easier back when I had the twins," she said. "But I wouldn't change it for the world. Each ache and pain is an investment that a mother makes for her baby, and I would sacrifice so much more." She patted Cara's knee. "You'll see," she finished with a wink. She paused, looking at Cara carefully, and the smile on her face faded. Even without Cara saying it, she seemed to realize why the younger woman was there and what it had taken to arrive at that conclusion.

"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry you had to make that decision," she said, pulling Cara into a hug. "Sam told us a little of what your life has been like, but this change is going to be for the best. Carson is...well, he's not like any other man you've ever met. I think you're going to like it here very much."

Cara sat next to the woman in silence for a few minutes. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Helena? Can I ask some questions?"

"Of course, dear."

"I have so many, I'm not sure where to start. How did Carson gather so many beautiful women around him? Normally women would fight like cats over a man, but everyone here seems to be at peace with sharing him."

Helena laughed. "The answer to your question is, 'Kicking and screaming.'" When Cara looked at her in confusion, Helena said, "Believe it or not, Carson didn't set out to seduce a bunch of women. He was perfectly happy being married to my daughter, Mara. But, like we said before, the women around him are part of a group of like-minded people who think guys like Carson are rare. We had to push and pull him to accept that this is what we really want.

"It's true that most women would jealously guard their mates around other women. But it might be easier to understand why we don't if I ask you a few questions. For example, if ten women met a group of a hundred eligible guys, men that those ten women might want to have children with, what do you think the chances are that none of the ten women would set their sights on the same guy?"

Cara pondered the question for a moment. "Actually, it seems more likely that at least two of the women would be attracted to the same man."

Nodding her head, Helena asked, "Would you agree, then, that choosing a mate is independent of the presence of other women? I mean, each woman makes a choice based on what she thinks is best for her and her offspring?"

"Sure, I can see that," answered Cara.

"Then, it follows logically that the jealousy arises out of some fear that either the man is somehow a limited resource, or the resources necessary for her offspring to survive are limited and having the best offspring maximizes their chances of survival."

Brow furrowed, Cara said, "I think I'm following you."

Helena said, "In the world we live in, resources are not scarce. Some people have more than others, true, but few people are starving in our society. Education, clean drinking water, healthcare—the environment children are raised in is largely nurturing, from a survivability standpoint. So, the concern about the welfare of offspring isn't really valid anymore, is it?"

"No, I don't suppose it is. So, jealousy is because men are a finite resource?"

Sighing, Helena said, "Unfortunately, that's becoming more and more true over time. But, no, jealousy seems to arise out of a deep-seated cultural understanding that a man should only produce children with one woman. That creates an artificial scarcity. But men aren't designed like that, so it doesn't make sense, biologically.

"If you think about it, over his lifetime, the average man produces enough sperm to, theoretically, father billions of babies. He's continually producing more. Not only that, it's in his nature to constantly scan for desirable females. How many men get in trouble with their wives or girlfriends because their eyes wander during a conversation when another woman passes by? He can't help it; his eyes will seek out and evaluate women subconsciously. Most of the time, he makes an evaluation and dismisses her just as quickly. But it's still his instinct to look.

"We believe that, while men aren't a finite resource, the best men should be treated as a valuable, pooled resource, in order to produce the best offspring for the most women." She sat back to watch as Cara processed all this information.

Cara chewed on her lip for a moment before she responded. "So, if I've got this right, you're saying that the women around Carson chose him for their mate, and they're willing to share him because they want him to have as many children as possible to...help society?"

Nodding, Helena said, "That's pretty much it. If you can get your mind around the idea that Carson spending time or having children with another woman doesn't mean that you are missing out on anything with him, or your children aren't being sacrificed, then the jealousy really isn't a problem."

"So, none of you feel neglected?" Cara asked skeptically.

"That's why Carson's special," chuckled Helena. "There's probably a number of men who could keep a couple of women satisfied, a smaller number who could handle the three that the government allows for marriage these days. I have no idea how many Carson can handle. He has a way of making the time that you spend with him somehow more meaningful that it otherwise would be. I can't explain it better than that. We like to say that when Carson's with you, he's with you. Of course we'd all take more time with him, but I don't think anyone's feeling a sense of loss or emptiness when he's with someone else, either."

Cara gathered herself and stood. "You've given me a lot to think about, and this has been a long day. If you don't mind, I'm going to take a nap."

"Of course, dear," replied Helena with a smile. Before Cara exited the room, though, Helena called out her name.

Turning back, she said, "Yes?"

"If you're not positive that you can handle this life, if you're not absolutely certain that this is what you want, don't start with Carson. He's not one for casual flings, and your relationship with Sam and her family complicates things. I won't let him get hurt," she warned. The look on her face conveyed the seriousness of her words.

Cara nodded and turned away. In her room, she decided to take a sleeping pill to give herself the best chance to start the rest of her life the next day refreshed and relaxed. As it began to take effect, she settled into a deep sleep.

*****

Across town, Starfyre checked her accounts for approximately the millionth time in the last three days. And, like all the other times, her balance was still sitting at zero. Did they really think she was bluffing? Should she follow through on her threat to release the stolen lab reports? They were incriminating, but they weren't really proof that NeoGenesys was behind the infertility epidemic.

As she pondered these questions and others, her attention was drawn to a flashing icon that popped up, indicating that someone was attempting to back trace her intrusion. Eager for the challenge to test her skills against another hacker, she opened a new window and began to initiate counter actions as she observed the stranger's movements through her system. Surprisingly quickly, her adversary breached the first level of her defenses, but that dumped them into a dummy system that should theoretically take some time to navigate. Her file structure was a system she'd designed with constantly shifting file names and paths that only became static when the user had the correct access code. As a result, simply breaking into the system didn't provide access to the files. And the dummy system didn't provide access to actual files anyway.

As skilled a hacker as anyone she knew, Starfyre was something of a prodigy. The virtual world had been a safe haven for her as her parents fought each other, drank too much, and ignored their daughter. By the time she was 16, she'd established herself as a bit of a legend in the darker corners of the internet. Back then, she'd mostly done it to see if she could, and the worst she'd done was changing site information and pictures to cause embarrassment for those companies that she'd heard were guilty of this crime or that. By the time she was 18, though, she'd realized that those same companies would pay huge amounts of money for someone to attempt to breach their system, and then to help them fix any security flaws that were discovered.

Now aged 20, Starfyre operated under her legal name, Addison Parks, and she'd quickly amassed a significant amount of money for her white hat activities. But she could never quite put aside her alter ego completely. She took on jobs that were considered too risky for most hackers, reveling in the thrill of overcoming all obstacles in pursuit of the objectives her clients provided. Her black hat activities were even more lucrative than her consulting work.

Still, for a girl who'd grown up not far above the poverty line, she couldn't imagine that there was a point where she'd have enough. It was this hunger for more that had prompted the blackmail attempt on NeoGenesys. For the first time since she'd broken in, though, she was beginning to wonder if her hubris might have gotten her into real trouble. Try as she might, she was beginning to run out of options as her opponent kept shifting tactics, inching closer and closer to real access. Starfyre nervously eyed the hardline that connected her system to the rest of the world. Her last resort would be to disconnect her system physically. She'd never had to go so far.

Her decision was made easier when a monitor mounted to the side of her workstation lit up. As she watched in horror, the feed to that monitor showed a 4-person team breach the entrance to the dummy apartment she maintained. She didn't have sound, but a flashbang grenade had obviously been employed, followed quickly by the armed members of the team as they raided the room.

The apartment had served its purpose. Altering the records had been child's play; as far as the building's owners were concerned, an 87-year old woman lived in the apartment alone. In reality, it was empty save one thing: a table that contained a connection to the network, and routed the feeds from her cameras back to her system. Obviously, the people who were looking for her had traced the IP address to find her physical location. With a dummy address being broadcast from the apartment, they would have to restart the trace using the camera feeds to find her actual location. The delay would allow her to vacate her actual location.

In moments, Starfyre had disconnected her system from the network and removed her hard drive. Some of her acquaintances in the hacker community had laughed at her overly paranoid preparations—the ones who knew about them, at least—but she was glad that she'd made them now. Within 15 minutes, she pulled away from the derelict office building that housed her illicit equipment, the glow of a growing fire in her rear-view mirror.

Shocked at how quickly things had escalated to an armed response, Starfyre was worried about how much she didn't know about the people who were now on her tail. She'd gotten greedy, but she'd expected a slap on the hand at worst. The thought that someone might want to take her hand off completely in response hadn't entered her mind. Her mind racing, she realized that she couldn't risk endangering any of her friends by getting them involved. That drastically limited her options. Finally, she scrolled through her communicator to the contact she'd been given for the operation.

When the woman at the other end picked up, Starfyre said, "We've got a big problem. I made a mistake and I'm in trouble. Please, I need help."

After a moment's pause, the woman provided her with an address. She said, "One hour," before disconnecting.

Tilda sighed heavily after terminating the communication. What have you done, girl?

*****

Walking in the door to his home with Corinne in tow was an odd feeling to Carson. After a moment's thought, he realized that she was out-of-context. He'd only known her at the office, or in professional settings. To see her in his home, in a romantic capacity, was a little...not unnerving, but odd all the same.

Fortunately for him, the Pride quickly took over in welcoming her to their home. Carson was quickly relegated to the sidelines as those women present took turns asking questions and telling stories about their times with Carson to Corinne. He couldn't help but smile at the warmth on display. It happened less and less, but there was still a small part of him that wondered if it was all just a dream that was destined to crash and burn at some point. Seeing the looks of happiness, even pride, on the faces of his wives and lovers made him feel better about the path he'd chosen.

Carson left the women to do whatever it was that women did in this situation and headed to his room to change clothes before dinner. Entering the hall, he became aware of a faint sensation tickling his awareness. Almost like wisps of silk thread trailing across his brain. The feeling grew in strength as he traversed the hall, and as he passed one of the closed bedroom doors, it peaked in intensity before receding as he continued along. Thinking on it, he realized that he'd felt it before. It had happened as Cara had approached their table in the restaurant. At the time, he'd been distracted by the other diners and their noise, as well as the stunning visual of Sam's aunt as she sashayed towards them, and hadn't paid any attention.

He decided to test a theory. Previously, when he'd tried to read a mind or communicate telepathically, he'd been in visual contact with the person. He wondered if different minds 'felt' different to his senses, enough that he could direct his thoughts without seeing the person. Closing his eyes, he 'pushed' with his mind the way that he did when he had a message to deliver. This time, though, he focused on how he remembered feeling when he'd been in each person's mind. To his surprise, it was easier than expected to distinguish the different signals he was receiving. It was almost as if each person had a distinct frequency that he could tune into. There were, however, some signals that were garbled somehow. It took a few minutes, but Carson eventually realized that what he was sensing were people he hadn't had any sexual contact with. Henry and the remaining staff were essentially white noise to his senses. He was also pleasantly surprised to find that his range was at least far enough to reach all the women in the living room, which was nearly the length of the house.

Tuning into 'Radio Helena,' he sent a question: Is Cara in the house?

"Oh!" exclaimed Helena, looking around for Carson. The others looked at her in concern. She assured them that nothing was wrong and answered, Yes, she arrived this afternoon. She was pretty worn out and I thought it best to let her rest this evening. Where are you?

I'm in my room. I just wanted to test a theory. I'll be out in a few minutes. He let the connection go, smiling to himself at the success of his experiment, but more confused at the sensation he'd felt from Cara earlier. Maybe it has something to do with our attraction to one another? he thought. I'll have to mention it to Sam and her father, see if I can sense the same thing with Sam or Caitlyn.