No Accounting For Chaos Ch. 04

"My point here is the same: my belief in an infinite set of universes is self-referential...like that fun house mirror setup...the belief in infinite futures means I can choose a future by believing in it. That can be quite handy." He nodded to her hand on his cock and she smiled again at his play on words.

But she still wasn't sure she understood. The idea sounded like childhood wishes. "Simply by changing your belief in a future, you can make it so?" She didn't wait for his answer, but moved her head down to his groin. She needed to taste him, to feel him in her mouth. It had been days since she'd given him a blow job and she loved to feel his cock on her tongue, in her throat.

"It's...okay...well, that's fantastic...It's something I'd need to...mmmm....that's nice...mmm hmm...need to demonstrate, because no amount of describing it can communicate it. Fuck. Yes. That's nice."

His hand trailed across her back leaving cooling beads of sweat. She moved more quickly, pushing him as deeply into her throat as she could. The tatters of her nightmare vision briefly distracting her even as they aroused her. She cupped her hands around his balls, feeling the skin crinkle and move, her fingers tickled him between his legs, until she felt his asshole. The memory of her explosive orgasms last week in the den and then again at her condo. She wanted to give him what he'd been giving her.

She pushed on his rectum, feeling him pucker and unpucker and she pushed deeper, forcing a moan from him as her fingertip penetrated him. She could feel his climax coming and pushed harder, his cock swelling in her mouth, the tip against her throat. God I wish he would give it to me. What does he taste like? And then the vibrations, his hands holding her as he moved against her. She felt his balls curl up and moaned.

"What were you saying?" She had rejoined him up at the pillow, her fingernails playing with his nipples. He looked at her a little dazed, wondering what had gotten into her. She lifted the covers and saw, without any surprise he was still stiff.

"I'd need to demonstrate it to you; if you really wanted to understand it...but...I'm not sure it's the right time..."

She figured he meant it wasn't the right moment, now, given what she'd just done to him, but studying his face, she realized he meant in their relationship and she sat back a little.

"You are witnessing a 'self-referential' moment, Marcie. They don't happen often but when they do it's a good thing to mark them."

She looked at him. She saw him struggling with an internal decision; it was the first time she'd seen him troubled about anything. Even the setbacks in his work he had occasionally mentioned didn't seem to faze him. She kept quiet.

"I need to show you something...but I'm afraid it may be too soon, or it may already be too late." He looked over at her, as if to size up the situation or steel his resolve. She didn't understand the urgency in his voice, or the cryptic language, but she could see he was struggling with something truly important and personal. More personal than anything he'd shared so far.

She held her breath. Shit. I knew he'd been hiding something. He's got skeletons in the closet. Do I want to know? Was he thinking about proposing? A future with him crystallized in front of her - nice dinners, a fantastic lover, well provided for, no need to work, children...maybe...maybe not...travel. Work, his work, consuming them both. It's about his work. He wants to show me something about his work. She sighed a little in relief.

"You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you," He said it as a statement, not as a request for validation. "And you understand there's a reason for us to be together..."

She nodded, hesitantly, not sure at all what reason there could be for them to be together, except she wasn't going to argue.

"Can you trust me?" He turned to face her, his hands coming to hold hers.

"Monty. You're scaring me just a little bit. Why shouldn't I trust you? You've not hurt me so far and you've certainly had the chances...ritual cleansing anyone?" She tried to lighten the mood a little. "As my daddy used to say - trust no one unless you've eaten much pork with him." She laughed. "I never understood that expression, but I sure as hell have eaten much pork with you." She gestured toward his cock.

"Here," he said decisively, "put on a robe and come with me." He swung his legs out of bed, stood up and retrieved one of the ever-present white terrycloth robes, offering it to her.

She groaned getting out of bed, more tired than she had realized, her pussy dripping (from her own juices, she obsessively noted) and reached for the robe. What does he do for a living? The single-sheeter hadn't gone into details about any of his businesses, but she knew he manufactured high-tech parts. It's about work, and he's concerned to share it with me. Does he build weapons? Is he a spy? She tried to shake off the silly thoughts as she followed him out of the room.

He led her up the stairs to the second level and down the hall, stopping at a closed door.

"I'm going to have to ask you to sign some paperwork before we go much further," he said apologetically. "It's not my choice, but a legal thing from my company. If you don't feel comfortable with the idea, that's fine. We can just sip some tea..." He trailed off as he opened the door into a dimly lit room.

"Paperwork?" She followed him in to what appeared to be a small personal theater. The 'theater.' He had mentioned it last week and I forgot to ask about it. Rows of loveseats faced a floor-to-ceiling wall of glass looking out over the canyon. It was different from the view from the kitchen upstairs - there she could see houses across the canyon, their lights twinkling in the distance. Here it was a green wall as the canopies of the trees hid everything that lay beyond.

He had moved to a small bar off to the left and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen.

"It's a standard NDA," he explained. "Before I can show you anything that would help explain what we've been talking about for the past month and a half, I need your signature." He handed her a single sheet of paper with five paragraphs of legalese.

She looked up at him as if to say 'Are you crazy?' and looked down again at the paper. They'd just made love, shoving his cock into her throat, with a nightmarish S&M scene to kick things off; she couldn't think straight to make herself a chocolate milk let alone decipher a legal document. Probably not a spy...'course this could just be another ruse. Stop it! Focus.

"It's pretty standard - I'll walk you through it. Paragraph 1 says I'm going to share with you either through discussion or demonstration, etc. etc, various things my company holds near and dear and that are not public knowledge.

"Paragraph 2 says the injury to our company should you reveal this information to anyone else would be so much more damaging than the company could recover, the damages would have to be determined in court..." He went on to translate the legal into plain English pointing to the words in case she didn't believe him.

She understood what the document said, and basically there was no obligation on her - it didn't encumber Samuelson et al, it was between her personally and his company. She shrugged her shoulders and signed.

He made a copy on a desktop printer behind the bar, handed her her copy with his signature and proffered a seat in the front row.

It was much warmer in this room than the bedroom. She untied the robe letting the air play across her breasts and still moist pussy.

As she sat, black-out curtains slid with a small hissing sound from the side walls and a large flat-screen monitor swung down from the ceiling. He joined her moments later, holding a tray with a bottle of vodka, two shot glasses, a hash pipe and oddly, a game remote. She looked down to see if he still had an erection, but it was hidden behind the robe. Feeling a little self-conscious, she reached over, untied his robe and flipped it open. He laughed a little as she reached down and petted his shaft, still at half-mast.

"What's all that about?" She asked pointing to the paraphernalia on the tray.

"I thought you might need a couple of stiff ones before I showed you the deal."

She laughed. "I already had a stiff one, and so did you until we came up here. And as for showing me the deal, I think we've been down that road too once or twice today."

She didn't protest when he offered her a shot, nor again the second time. Comfortably numb, she sat back and took the pipe when he passed it.

"I haven't smoked any of this shit since I was in college. How come you're sharing it with me tonight?" She could feel the vodka beginning to creep in on her tongue. He poured her another as she took a hit.

"Well, you know it's not because I'm going to take advantage of you. I'm just a little concerned that what I've got to say may blow your mind a little and I wanted you to be as prepared as possible."

"Go ahead, Einstein. Let her rip." His logic that Vodka and hash were good preparation never crossed her mind.

"This is important. I need you to focus for a moment."

She sat up straighter and made an exaggerated act of paying attention. If he needed me to focus why did he get me fucked up?

"Do. You. Trust. Me?" He was trying to make a point.

"Yessss...that's the second time in 10 minutes... what's going on Monty?"

"Like I said," he stared at her. "Self-referential moment - this like a pretty important one. Here goes. For the past several weeks you and I have discussed my "life philosophy" (far more frequently than I've discussed it with anyone in the past 6 years); you've been curious about my beliefs; about chaos theory and so forth and that it wasn't just a matter of belief, yeah?" He paused and took a deep breath. "What would it mean to you if I said I had possibly found a way to navigate the manifold space time structure suggested by the String Theorists?"

She was going to say "I don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about," but he didn't really expect her to answer.

"Consider, for a moment," he turned to her slightly, "that we could position ourselves anywhere on the space time continuum - pick a coordinate on the grid and put yourself there as an observer." He pointed to the tray to illustrate.

"Don't we do that anyway?" She asked, taking another hit off the pipe.

"Well, in a sense, yes, but we don't have much control over the time coordinates - we're pushed along a fairly tightly defined path. Regarding the space coordinates, we really don't have much control over those either, except by moving our legs or eyes, and even then it's fairly limited - the really "big" moves are at the galactic scale completely dwarfing our local stuff. And then there's the moves outside of the three dimensions altogether..."

"But we've been recording other points of view for over a century - it's called photography." She was sure this was bigger than she could imagine, but either he wasn't being very clear about it or the drugs weren't helping.

"Right. Exactly. Now, consider you could position a camera at any node in the space-time framework. Theoretically, you could point the camera along a time axis and see into the past, or symmetrically into the future. Orrrr, you could point the camera along the space grid into any orientation. Now, if space is really composed of manifold structures, not just the three-dimensions we're accustomed to, that camera could be positioned along any of the dimensions suggested by the String guys."

The drugs were kicking in, and while she couldn't keep more than three dimensions in her head straight at a time, she kind of got the picture of a camera moving along a grid in wildly different directions. "Okay, I guess. Go on." She nestled into him, feeling his naked thigh with her hand.

"Okay. That's the theory anyway. Now, consider the infinite futures thing. It turns out the multiple dimensions of the space-time framework means there are multiple dimension of time, not just space. Got that?" He waited for her to nod. "Okay. You can forget it, at least for now. That's the part my company hasn't begun to tackle. We just can't engineer anything that can see in multiple time dimensions.

"But, we have figured out how to see in multiple space dimensions and for the purposes of our first product, that is far and away enough."

He lifted the game controller - a small box with a couple of joy sticks and several knobs, along with a little glowing screen.

"Here's where I need you to trust me. Several of us from the company have had this technology installed in our homes. We have been playing with it for about a year, refining the underlying engineering, getting some basic controls and displays in place. Since it's here...we capture things that are extremely, ummm, personal in nature."

He flicked a control and the screen came to life.

She darted her eyes to the scene and saw the two of them in his kitchen from the first time she came over for dinner, a month previously. She watched the scene play out: her looking through his liquor cabinet and him at the sink. The "camera" was positioned in an upper corner of the kitchen.

"This is an 'objective 3rd party' view of that moment. Here's what it looked like from your perspective." He moved a control and positioned a marker at her eyes, dragging a small arrow into her head. "I won't get it completely perfect, but you'll get the point." He pressed a button and the scene played out virtually the way she remembered it. The focus wasn't quite on the bottles, as she remembered it, but more to the side.

"And from my perspective." He repeated the motions, and she saw his hands loading the dishwasher, followed by his arrival behind her, his hands coming up to her shoulders.

She began to feel a tingle in her groin at where this might be leading and looked down at his growing erection. He obviously was thinking along the same lines.

"Are you opposed to looking at a little porn?" He looked up from her neck directly in her eyes, a wry grin on his face.

"You're kidding, right? I mean, weren't we just discussing Einsteinian cosmetology..uhh, cosmology a couple moments ago, and of course your lips were heavenly too, and...really?" With the drugs coursing through her brain it was getting to be too much.

"Well, given how much sex we've been having lately, anyone else would think it was impossible, pure pornography, but since you were there, I figured you would know it was for real."

She felt the spark in her groin grow to a small flicker. How did this happen? Was there some pheremone she emitted that drew these guys in? An exhibitionist flame to voyeuristic moths? Or were all guys like this? She thought back to her ex, always taking photographs, Polaroids before digitals were so common. His insistence on her nudity when the guys came over. At least she had destroyed the evidence. She had been so so careful to not let any out onto the net. She had been so careful not to even breathe a hint to any of her boyfriends over the past few years. And she had worked so hard these past six weeks to keep him from discovering how aroused she got stripping for a camera. Now, all along he'd been filming her completely unaware.

He watched her face looking for any clue what she might be thinking. Had he blown it? He was starting to have real feelings for her, the first he'd had in a decade it seemed like. He had been compelled to tell her. He couldn't let it go on any further without letting her know.

She stared at him and saw a mixture of excitement, pain and curiosity. She knew nothing she said would make a difference. Alternate universes, strange attractors. Tantric exercises! It didn't make a fucking difference whether she got up and stomped out of his life or opened her legs and let him fuck her. He was completely neutral to the future - they were all equal.

She struggled between the rising sense of anger and violation and the rising sense of arousal because of the violation. She knew it was a personality defect. She knew it didn't serve her well in her relationships. She always gave in as the victim. It turned her on. None of her work in therapy the past year seemed to make a difference. The scenes from the visions downstairs started to make sense in a sick way.

The excitement in her core was starting to win. She could feel her pussy getting moist, her lips starting to swell. Goddammit. Please don't do this to me.

"I...I...don't know what to say..." She was suddenly self-conscious of her nakedness; all of the sex they'd had, especially last week when he had her splayed out on the living room couch. He could watch that any time he wanted. She blushed. Shit. "Shit, Monty!"

She wanted to run from the room, grab her clothes and never come back. She wanted him to take her, right then, force her to watch their time together. She was overwhelmed and confused. Who else could see these things?

"Hold it, Marcie. I was trying to make a joke and it's obviously failed miserably. We have had such great sex together, I had thought maybe it would be a good segue, but please don't jump to the wrong conclusions about my intentions." He put the remote down and put his hands on her shoulders, looking her straight in the eye. "Breathe with me." He waited until she took a breath and let it out slowly. "Yes. I could call up any images of any time of any room in the house since we installed the technology from about two years ago. The point is not to embarrass you, as if anything we did here is embarrassing. You remain one of the sexiest women I've ever been with."

If that was supposed to calm her, it didn't help much. Instead all she could think of was how many other women he had recorded. The fight inside her between giving in to her cravings to be watched, and now her curiosity about who else he had fucked, and her need to protect herself raged. Her face was screwing up in pain.

"Don't make this smaller than it is, Marcie." He had completely misunderstood her torment. He thought she was worried about her reputation, or that she might think he was a pervert. "This could likely be evidence of the most revolutionary technology humankind has tripped over. I mean it. Bigger than the number 0, bigger than fire. Bigger than...Doritos."

She started to worry about his ego-mania until the last comparative sunk in and she realized he was making another self-deprecating joke. She looked up at him and saw the hope in his eyes that she would come around, and she started to laugh. Damn him. He always finds a way to get me to laugh.

"Tell me you haven't shown any...this...of what we've done... to anyone." She needed to regain the sense that he was her dream lover not her psycho killer.

"None of it is stored anywhere. It has to be 'called up.' We can point the 'camera' along specific space-time coordinates to any point in time and space since the equipment was installed. No one outside this house can see what the camera can see, and we've developed some pretty strong crypto for our systems."

She thought again about last week. The scene in the living room. He had eaten her until she was begging him to make her come. It seemed to have gone on and on. She suddenly wanted to see it.

"What do you want me to say? I think I get it...sort of. I'm really really embarrassed, Monty, in spite of suggesting I shouldn't be. You've had eyes on me without my knowing it. It's more than creepy."

"I know...I understand. I was really hesitating to even tell you, but that would have been far worse. I'm sorry...for violating your trust. If it helps, I'm willing to let you look at any moment in my life in the house since the stuff was put in. Anything. Anytime. I realize I've been living with the knowledge of this stuff for 10 years. It isn't something I'd expect you to absorb right away."