It's My Party

And the game was so curious. The small voice in the back of her mind kept asking puzzling questions. Where had the game come from? They had invented it of course, Madhi and Farideh, but how? It was so strange. Farideh distinctly remembered discussing and agreeing to the rules, but she also remembered French kissing Madhi at the same time, his soft and electric tongue, the taste of his lips, and his beautiful black eyes, eyes that were staring into hers, eyes so full of love, so full of appreciation.

Her lover! She had hoped for this, hoped and longed for it so badly, and now she knew! Madhi loved her, he truly loved her. His eyes had miraculously become a window into his soul, allowing Farideh to see a heart that was full of love for her, love and desire. And Farideh felt like a woman in a way she never felt before. She would do anything to satisfy her lover's desire. It was time for them to mate. Any other action would be unthinkable. She gazed into her lover's eyes and pleaded silently for coitus.

Rough hands grabbed Farideh's hips from behind and lifted her butt, and then an explosion of pressure formed on her labia an instant before she felt her body horribly invaded, an uncaring penis brutally tearing her hymen before plunging into her depths. Farideh cried out in anguish from the pain as powerful hands squeezed her breasts from above and then lifted her away from her lover. Within seconds her body was vertical and suspended in the air, her weight supported by two cruel hands with viselike grips on her breasts and a raping pole impaling and tearing her vagina.

Farideh screamed, her eyes sharing her horror with her lover for a moment before the man behind her began to shake her. The eye contact broken, Farideh tried to twist her body and uncouple from the penis within her, but her turning only stimulated her rapist. He started thrusting up into her, hard quick pumps that lubricated his cock with Farideh's blood. The woman could feel it trickling down her thigh, and she screamed at the pain and violation.

Madhi was on his feet by this time, screaming at the man behind her and trying to hit him. The man laughed uproariously and turned, pumping Farideh without mercy and keeping her positioned between himself and Madhi, using Farideh as a human shield and all the while the penis kept drilling her, plunging her. Farideh continued to scream, her eyes pleading with her lover to do something, anything, and all the while a deep bruising pain was building on her cervix and the back wall of her vagina. Her body was not designed to take this kind of punishment.

Madhi rushed in and was repulsed, and then the man behind Farideh charged, forcing Madhi to retreat and then stumble backwards as the low sofa bed caught the backs of his knees. The rapist surged forward, tipping Madhi over and then slamming him with the combined weight of his and Farideh's bodies. The massive explosion of pressure on his chest drove the wind out of Madhi, and before he could recover the man above him and Farideh began punching his head, vicious simultaneous blows to both sides of his head. The concussions drove Madhi senseless and Farideh started to scream, both from her continued rape and the sight of blood flowing from Madhi's ears.

It was a nightmare beyond imagination. The man would plunge into her as he rocked the upper part of his body high, and then partially withdraw as he slammed himself down, driving the wind out of Farideh and smashing both his fists into the sides of Madhi's head. The eyes of the unconscious man were wide open and lifeless, and Farideh's mind detached from the horror of watching the murder of her lover. "This isn't real," she told herself, "just a bad dream. None of this is really happening." Her body lost its tension. She became as limp as a doll.

And deep within her mind she pitied the sickness of this dream. Her dream rapist was actually using the bludgeoning of Madhi as a means to increase his sexual arousal. Her lover was no threat, not anymore, but he continued to be beaten on both sides of his heads, and with each pair of lethal blows, the penis inside Farideh swelled and thrust, swelled and thrust. She could feel it, feel the organ's eagerness to complete its function with each pair of blows. Madhi's head became unrecognizable, and then the penis seemed to become thinner, something Farideh did not expect, thinner and longer, and then in one great awful thrust the pole buried itself into her and began to spurt. Farideh could feel the hot sliminess coating her insides, and again her mind cried out in pity at the sickness of the dream.

The man roared and howled and turned, finally releasing Farideh from her rape. She let her body flop over and witnessed a knife sticking out of the side of her rapist. It looked like the hilt of one of the kitchen knives. A few feet away Farideh's friend Jamilla was screaming at the man and trying to reach the knife. Farideh had the impression Jamilla wanted to pull the knife out so she could stab the man again, but the man caught Jamilla's neck with his hands and he began to squeeze and twist, and then it appeared to Farideh that her rapist broke Jamilla's neck. Farideh's detached mind decided it didn't want to watch any more of this insane dream and she passed out, the blood from her bruised vagina still trickling down her thighs and staining the sheets below her.

Farideh had a very troubled night. Several times she almost fully awoke, rising to semi-awareness of the people around her. It seemed she was sleeping with someone. Somehow she knew it was a man, and he had a hand cupping her breast as she lay. Was it Madhi? No, Farideh and he were both too shy, and besides, that would conflict with the insane dream. But why should that matter? It was just a crazy dream. Farideh stirred but did not quite awake. Who was holding her breast?

At other times she was trapped in a very repetitive and unpleasant dream. Farideh was in what seemed to be an endless maze, walking in bare feet in cold sand outside long rows of windowless buildings. Such a strange dream. And as she walked she would gradually lose articles of clothing. And she would start to turn and look back over her shoulder, again and again, becoming more and more certain someone was following her. Someone was stalking her, someone or something.

At the end of the dream the sand would be ice cold and as slippery as glass. Farideh would fall naked into the freezing sand and begin to cry in frustration and fear. She could not escape the stalker, and she could hear it coming now. It was making a raspy droning sound, and it was so close, perhaps just around the corner. The monster would be upon her in seconds, and then it would feed. Farideh would whimper and the dream would fade, but only to start up again in a short while. Farideh had her clothes again, everything covered except for her bare feet, and she would begin to wander…

Farideh felt a dull ache in her pelvis, and the pain finally drove her awake. Her eyes were full of tears. The death of Madhi and Jamilla, it wasn't a dream. Everything was so foggy at the time, but now everything was perfect focus. She could remember each horrible moment with perfect clarity. Madhi!

Farideh grimaced and turned and stared at the man sleeping by her side. At least it wasn't her rapist. What was that awful man's name? Jack? Jim? Something like that. Farideh wasn't sure. But the man next to her was… Eugene, she told herself. Yes, that's right, Eugene. Farideh stared at the naked man for a second, then turned away and rolled off the bed and stood up on wobbly feet.

The sight and the stickiness under her feet almost made her faint. Farideh was the only one awake in a large room filled with carnage. There was dried blood everywhere, and she was standing in it. There were corpses everywhere. The deaths could not be denied. The bodies were cold and stiff and many had their throats slit. So many men, and they were all dead! And then Farideh saw Jamilla, and she cried out in dismay. Everything in the dream was true. Jamilla's neck was clearly broken, her body lifeless.

It was Saturday morning, December 22nd, and slowly the survivors of the carnage tried to organize into a group. There were eight of them, eight survivors out of nine couples, seven women and one man. As horrible as the murder room was, they couldn't bring themselves to leave it. To abandon the bodies of their lovers would only add to their guilt. Six women were adamant about not leaving the bodies of their murdered boyfriends.

Two women and eight men, how did they die? The survivors swapped stories as they tried and failed to call the police. Were they attacked? Was all this self inflicted? Did they do this to themselves? Of the eight dead men, five had their throats cut open. What the hell happened?

In the late afternoon they received their second great shock. They discovered what they would soon call The Sight, the ability to look closely at another person's eyes and see what they were thinking. The ability drove them to the brink of insanity. This was impossible! But the reality of The Sight could not be denied. After hours of experimentation and practice, they began to crosscheck each other's stories about the murder scene. What was the glue that held the facts together? The questions soon turned into accusations. Why did only one man survive?

Many of the women began to suspect that Eugene had murdered them. The women all remembered the wonton release of sexual desire the previous night, raw carnal appetites for sexual satisfaction, the complete abandonment of morality. Many of the women accused Eugene of murdering their boyfriends. He rigorously denied it but was not believed. Shortly after sunset, a number of women overpowered him and held him down while another would sit on his chest and force him to use The Sight with her. In their earlier experimentation, they had learned that within The Sight, there was no room for lies.

And they discovered that Eugene was as confused as they were. Suspicion then fell on Eugene's girlfriend Cindy. She was the only person who had not practiced The Sight, claiming it was a gift of the devil. The other women now attacked her as they had attacked Eugene. Ignoring Cindy's shrieks, they held her down, forced her eyelids open and stared into her eyes. The truth was thus revealed. In a drugged stupor, Cindy had tried to protect her boyfriend Eugene by eliminating all the male competition for the women.

The women were stunned, Eugene too. It was a monstrous crime. Cindy was a mass murderer, killing defenseless men as they lay unconscious. And yet, they also remembered their drugged stupor. It caused an insane release from morality. Could they truly condemn Cindy? Fortunately they thought it wouldn't be their decision. Eventually they would all be telling their story to police and courts and juries. Mercifully, it was not for them to pass judgment. Or so they thought.

They spent a second night in the building, determined to reach the authorities the following morning. They left before daybreak early Sunday, a bit confused about why the sun was rising so late. And then they finally saw it, a little past eight o'clock, a huge orange ball on the horizon. Was that the sun?! Impossible!

They wandered together for most of the day. Around 3 PM they had a minor fight among themselves and wound up splitting into two groups. Cindy and Eugene and two French undergrads Alice and Bridget took a southern path while Farideh's group went in a more westerly direction. Less than an hour later the sun set and Farideh's group took shelter in another building. They stayed the night in a large and very comfortable basement area, spending long times in the shower facilities. Everything was so open. They were glad there were no men with them.

They had an uneasy night trying to sleep, and in the early morning of Christmas Eve discovered they could not leave the basement area. Hours of searching became days and then weeks, but their prison wall held firm. And there they stayed until Saturday, July 9th on the new calendar, when they were stunned to see Emily, Heather, and Hannah calmly walk into their underground area. Fortunately Heather never let the door close.

And now here was Mark ten days later at the Red Mall home complex, taking a break from his work and gazing out the window, admiring the women playing and diving in the Olympic pool across the sand park. So many beautiful women. It was turning out to be a delightful summer. The highs in the afternoons would hover just around 30C and with the lower solar temperature spectrum, there was little need for sunburn protection. After discussing the matter with Tom and Mark, the women had taken up the habit of skinny dipping. So many beautiful women, lightly tanned legs and butts and shapely breasts. Mark sighed. As long as he and Tom didn't ogle their nakedness at close range, the women didn't mind if the men watched them. So pretty…

Mark's Leophone rang, bringing him out of his daydream. "Hi Mark!" came a cheerful greeting. Mark recognized the voice. "Hi Margaret. How are things in bee land?"

"Just fine, and I'm not Margaret any more. As of today my name is Peggy. This way I won't be confused with the Margaret down in Wobanakik. I'll make an announcement at tonight's meeting."

"You sure? You really don't have to give up your name."

"Yeah, I'm sure. I used to be Peggy to all my friends in high school before I came to the University, life in the big city."

"Oh yeah? Where did you grow up?"

"A small town in southern Vermont, Townsend, population of about a thousand. You probably never heard of it."

"Well… vaguely," Mark admitted. "So you were Peggy there, huh?"

"Yep. That's what my brother and parents called me too. When I came to Burlington, I found the University was using my official name on all my forms so I thought I'd try it for a while. But I only used it for one term. I don't mind going back to Peggy." She paused for a moment. "So, how has your day gone?"

"Oh, it's still going. You must be in deep night though, right?"

"Yep. The sun set here a couple of hours ago. We went night swimming in the pond. Alexis and Emma and Farideh are still out there. I came in early… Show me your sun?"

"Uh… okay." Mark activated the video on his Leophone and scanned the outdoors.

Peggy started to laugh. "Shocking! Do you and Tom expect me to swim naked in front of you too?"

Mark could hear the playfulness in her voice and it washed away his embarrassment. "Only if you want to," he countered.

"Well…" Peggy sighed. "Wow, you got me blushing. Let me change topics."

"Please."

"We've decided. I'll try out for medical technician. Farideh will study for the janitor position. And Emma and Alexis want to get busy wherever they're needed most."

"Tired of the bee vacation already?"

"Seriously? It is very relaxing here, but we all feel like being useful."

"Sounds great. You'll all be extremely welcome members."

"Thanks." A short pause. "Was it true Cordelia actually wanted to stay outside the Society?" She stared at Mark's image as she said this.

He nodded back at her. "For a short while, Cordelia and a few others. They had a tough time where they were. I'd guess you could call it a war."

Peggy looked at him thoughtfully. "Our seniors on the Boost Teams, Kaylee especially, they told us all about it. And they didn't have our excuse that they were under of the influence of drugs. Yeah, I guess I can understand their reluctance to join up." She took a deep breath. "Speaking of drugs, how are the med techs coming along with the honey analysis?"

"It's interesting. Tajana has taken the lead with the research. The analysis has turned up some really strange stuff. The honey in some ways seems more plantlike than something made from bees."

"Really?"

"The DNA, the amino acids, some of the acids are what you would only find in Earth plants, never in animals. And then there are chromosomes that are almost identical to human chromosomes, surrounded by other stuff so bizarre we haven't a clue what to think of it. The med techs have a theory the honey might have actually changed our DNA."

"What?!"

"It's just a theory. But it's the next thing Tajana's team is going to study."

There was a long pause of silence, and then a whisper. "Wow. The new me. I was almost going to say I don't feel any different, but of course I do. My abilities Mark, the access to memories, my ability to dream, it's fantastic!"

"It overwhelmed me too. It overwhelms everybody. But you do get used to it after a while."

"God, I hope so. Will you help me practice? I thought I'd want to practice with a woman, but Emily warned me a week ago I might want a guy and she was right. Mark, I know about your other commitments…" A playful smile. " …but will you dream with me?"

"Sure. It will be an privilege." He replied with complete sincerity.

"Good! See you tomorrow!" After short goodbyes they ended the call.

Mark sighed and took a moment to watch Frida make a graceful dive, and then he got back to work. He had spent the last several hours staring at a number of executive logs from the orbiting telescope. It was strange. The logs weren't there yesterday, or at least he didn't have access to them before today. And now suddenly they were there.

It was difficult to understand what was being displayed. There were several weeks of entries. It looked as if some system were trying to reset itself and failing, very strange, very aperiodic. The system would be fine for eight to twelve hours, and then there'd be a whole series of attempts to do… Do what? It didn't make any sense.

Mark thought about running the diagnostic routines on the orbiter again. They were extensive and should pinpoint any possible problem. But he had just done that two hours ago and the orbiter seemed in perfect health. So what was up with the logs?

Mark tried to think logically. There was a problem the diagnostics couldn't see, or there was a problem somewhere else and the results of the failed resets were being stored on the orbiter. But why do that? It was a puzzle. Mark decided he would bring up the issue at tonight's meeting. Maybe he and Emily could come up with something.

Chapter 93.

Three days later.

Time: Friday, August 8, 2019 11:11 AM GHT

"This still feels so amazing, to dream within a dream. Our fifth time, and I am still in awe. Do you ever get used to it?" Peggy's mind was drifting in deep REM sleep. In objective time she and Mark had sat down on a sofa at the Yellow Mall lounge about five minutes ago. Toshi, Holly, and Farideh were still using the library downstairs, and had promised to come up before noon if Peggy and Mark had not delinked by then. Otherwise the complex was deserted.

In the short span of the objective five minutes, Peggy and Mark had lived more than half a day, mostly wandering around the deserted University campus at Burlington. They would walk holding hands, talking about their lives, what it was like growing up, all sorts of things. Within the intimacy of the link, there really were no boundaries. They jumped the dream to Peggy's home in Townsend for dinner. Peggy laughed at the thought of burning the dream soufflé.

They shared Mark's memory of New York after dinner, a performance at the Met. Then a quiet walk along a beach in southern France, and finally back to Peggy's dorm room at Burlington where they laid down together on her dorm bed. In subjective time they had both been up for over sixteen hours, and they locked eyes with the dream and fell asleep.