Total Recall
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Total Recall: 500,000 free porn video
Total Recall: 500,000
By: Jacquie Windsor
Five hundred thousand credits in my favour, yet I still find myself plunging
downwards into the murky depths of Lake Superior, encumbered by a heavy
pack and weighted boots that were supposed to have kept me from bouncing
too high on the Martian landscape. An ill-fated excursion on a small boat
across the unpredictable lake towards the launchpad outside Flint, Michigan
had turned into an extraordinary exercise in survival against a sudden May
gale.
?Doomed though you are, death is not an option. Survival has been your
torment and your saviour. Now which one is it??
Five hundred thousand debits against its corporate board, and the clipper ?Festung
Amerika? foundered in the icy gale and struck a sandbar in a singularly violent crash.
Antler VIII, the half-human commodore of the Quaker State Ostflotilla, bashed his
head into the plastic windscreen on the bridge, oozing heavily from the subsequent
wound and sinking into a queer oblivion.
?Doomed though you are, death is not an option. Survival has been your torment
and your saviour. Now which one is it??
Five hundred thousands credits paid and another equal amount owing, Yuma Pedon
threw a careless hand through her thick green hair and snorted at the sleeping man,
scrambling into her scanty clothing and out of Room 442 in the Palace Of The
Concubines in Compound XXXII of the Tranquillity Colony. In the hallway, the
guards appeared to be sleeping in sympathy with her sexual conquest on the bed
inside the room. The immediate appearance of an Ophidiomorph-slithering forward
in a hissing fury-an inescapable hypnotic beam shooting from its eyes and bathing
the desirable woman with its stupefying essence-
Yuma sank to the floor and remained helpless as the Ophidiomorph conquered her
mind, body and soul-
?Doomed though you are, death is not an option. Survival has been your torment
and your saviour. Now which one is it??
?Stop it,? screamed Kalle Bilbao, shuddering awake after a sequence of vivid
nightmares.
He rolled onto his side until his nose was drowning in the ebony waves of his
sleeping wife?s hair. He pulled the thick mane away from his nostrils in order to
catch his breath. Strands of hair caught in his fingernails-he wagged his hand
suddenly and the hair separated from his wife?s scalp-dangling in the air as Kalle
recoiled from the bald head resting on the pillow.
The wig hung lifeless from his hand-the woman stirred vaguely under the sheets as
her husband sweated in the morning twilight streaming through the diaphanous
curtains over a gated window.
The handsome manager of the Reichigan State Procurement Foundation wept
inside, shedding no visible tears, turning stone-faced towards the dresser near the
far wall. Silently, he opened the second drawer and thrust his hand into a folded
pile of T-shirts to find the gun.
?This is a Kettonite shell semi-automatic modelled on an old .357 police special,?
he remembered the weapons dealer crowing. ?Stop a charging moose at fifty
yards.?
Kalle shook his head in disbelief, though determined to do what he had to. Handling
the weapon as though it was a wounded baby bird, he turned around again to face
his slumbering wife.
?Andromeda,? he whispered, ?please forgive me some day for this. I just can?t bear
to see you suffer.?
He raised the gun, seized it with both hands, and squeezed the trigger four times. A
dark red stain erupted onto the bed sheets to signal his mate?s sudden death.
?What made you think she was suffering, Kalle??
The government bureaucrat blinked. He felt his arms and legs restricted in their
movement.
?Did you ever think it might just be you who was suffering??
Consciousness continued to pour into Kalle?s mind, replacing his sense of
continual repetitive scenarios that were punctuated by mocking accusations. The
other mocking accusations. This voice was mocking him too.
?Nothing of the sort. It was a decision that had to be made,? he moaned sleepily.
?Aren?t those sorts of decisions up to the authorities to make??
?The authorities? The municipal council forced me to marry her-in the name of
Astarte-it was never my choice.?
?Is there a reason you would think that??
Kalle Bilbao wrestled with his conscience, fighting to discover his whereabouts-and
who was interrogating him. He concluded that he was awake-that this was reality-and
that the entity asking the questions might be recording his answers.
?I want to speak to a Citizens? Advocate,? he murmured.
?What did you say??
?I said-? he began. A sickening lurch in the pit of his stomach was followed closely
by a sensation of floating quickly upwards to the ceiling. His vision cleared and now
he looked down unobstructed at his own immobilised body. The interrogator sat
behind a translucent screen that projected an image of a gnarled, pipe-puffing
psychiatrist-while behind the screen crouched a scale-covered creature, hissing
malevolently, and growing fierce tentacles that stretched around the barrier to advance
upon his own soulless body.
Pixels of reality gathered at the edge of his vision just as talons emerged from the tips
of the reptilian creature?s limbs. Sparkling, vibrant and welcome, the segments of
Kalle?s true perception grew and stormed from the periphery towards the centre.
Quickly, as the creature?s deadly arms began to eviscerate his body, the black-edged
triangles joined until his horrifying fate vanished completely.
?I am immobilised,? he thought. ?I am in a machine-or strapped to a machine, rather.?
A clean laboratory room-not unlike the one his mind had shortly escaped from-came
into view as Kalle turned his head. He frowned in a deep scepticism.
?Did it work this time?? asked an alto voice.
?Is this me? Is this actually happening??
?You tell me,? laughed the voice politely. A youngish brown-haired woman approached
him and reached out with one arm to release one of the armholds.
?Don?t touch me!?
?Calm down-it was a trip-you?re here now-? soothed the woman.
?Where is ?here??? Kalle challenged her. ?Really.?
?Rennsaeler Geophysical Laboratory. A division of General Mills.?
?Not Rennsaeler-Ryerson-"
?Ryerson? Not likely. No, this is Rennsaeler-though it?s called RGL-which
could theoretically stand for anything-"
The woman was sincere. Kalle was weary of playing this game anyhow, and
admitted to himself that, even if she wasn?t right, it wasn?t worth his energy to pursue
it any further.
?Was it worth it?? she asked, nodding. Even in her flat beige coat, he could tell
she had a nice body.
?I?m definitely back,? he mumbled.
?Pardon??
?Oh-no-nothing. I was just thinking about something.?
She smiled again, patting the machine as though it was a favourite terrier.
?The instruments can sort of handle your thinking for you, Mr. Bilbao. You needn?t
concern yourself with that. And it?s pretty cheap for the intensity you get.?
?Fifteen hundred credits is hardly what I?d call cheap.?
?I?m interested, though. Did you find what you were looking for??
?You?re asking a lot of questions. Just like the psychiatrist did before he changed
into a flesh-eating reptile.?
The woman flicked her chocolate-coloured hair from her face and finished jotting
on the electronic notebook. Perhaps she thought he wouldn?t notice the pale
rivets along her clavicle, exposed for a short second as she moved-just like
that.
?An android,? he mused. ?The good ones are all androids.?
She remained unconcerned at his refusal to answer her questions. Perhaps all her
concerns were already stored on electronic files-transmitted in a flash as the stylus
tip scrolled over the surface of the recorder. She probably already knew all about
his odyssey. The Demopublican Coalition regime that ruled Greater Reichigan had
certainly guaranteed the rights of what they called ?soul-bearing mammals?-the
genetically pure human beings like Kalle. At least those who were literate, since an
inability to read and write was considered to be a token of submission to the State.
?The security bands have been released, Mr. Bilbao. You?re free to go. Besides,
there was a waiting list for this Thanksgiving weekend-and-there are more clients
who wish to use the machine.?
?What if I don?t know anything about the scenes I took part in?? Kalle asked.
?Truth takes many forms,? she winked. ?That?s the First Amendment. A literate
man ought to realise that.?
?Fifth level constitutional law,? he grunted. Kalle pulled his jacket on, over his rumpled
dress shirt and pants. Even during his off-hours, he couldn?t simply wear casual clothes.
Casual might be interpreted as illiterate, transient or rebellious. So it was safety in
conformity-which happened to be a part of the Third Amendment.
If his salary and deportment suggested anything less than conformity, his choice in cars
confirmed his status as a faithful contributor to the community. Kalle enjoyed his private
vehicles-he owned a magenta buick.com ?Luster? and a cream-and-black two-tone
ibm.mil ?SDV-32?. He left the building at a brisk pace, ignored the pleading of a
johnnycab.org and found his Luster in the underground garage without much searching.
The joys of driving-even off-road-were diminished by the sub-surface magnetic adhesion
bands, which never let the car lose its footing or its direction.
Driving had become irritatingly safe-a result of the Twelfth Amendment against perilous
activities.
Arriving home in a nebulous whirl, Kalle found Andrea preparing supper for us. His wife
of fifteen years took pride in balancing her career as a real estate dealer with their
relationship, putting umpteen hours into both activities. She sure kept herself looking good,
too, in the meantime.
?Smells terrific, honey,? Kalle smiled candidly as a spicy, meaty aroma welcomed him.
?Glad you could grace me with your presence,? she retorted, staring at the wall clock. ?Been
working late again? Or back into the habit of single-handedly supporting the entertainment
industry??
?Is it really an either-or thing??
His wife turned towards him, her hands on her hips, staunchly challenging him by her
posture, yet flashing her crystal green eyes in a combination of love, forgiveness and
kindness. She never was good at holding a grudge.
?The credits are stacking up quicker than we can use them, Andrea. I hoped you?d
understand I-we-need these-er-diversions.?
?Honey, I do understand. I?m really not that upset. It?s better that you spend time at
the RGL than down at the pool hall.?
The bureaucratic official stifled a smirk. The pool sharks had cost him his tuition when
Kalle was in college. He had nearly lost his scholarship and his rights to an education-and
would have done so cheerfully before he met Andrea. She was, and remained, a
powerfully attractive addition to Kalle?s life. Possessing a well-proportioned frame, a
stylish composure, and an excellent wit and ambition, she was worth the sacrifice of
tearing himself away from the seamy world of hustling pool at McSlammyWorld.
?Do I deserve you at all?? he ventured, closing the distance between them to join her
in an embrace.
?Of course you do,? she whispered. ?I love you, after all.?
Kalle hugged her tightly, feeling the warmth of her body moulding into his. Her irresistible
grip tightened around his waist, and he responded with a simple kiss on her forehead.
?We need to get out of here some day,? she whispered as they cuddled. ?Like it would
be great to go to Mars again. Just for a visit.?
?Again?? Kalle wondered aloud. ?We?ve never been to Mars, though. Just talked
about it-that?s as far as it got.?
?No-we definitely have gone to Mars. The Flint shuttle-our fifth anniversary-?
He drew away from Andrea?s close embrace. He winced, wondering why Andrea
would have mentioned Flint. This was a part of his sequence at the RGL lab-it was
not a true memory, but a fabrication of the Total Recall machine.
?How did we get there?? he asked.
?The SGV-32-you got it as a bonus. Why would you ask that??
?SDV-32-not SGV-32-so we got there overland, right??
Andrea proceeded cautiously. Her bright green eyes squinted at him.
?This has to be part of the programme,? said Kalle. ?Because you don?t know what
the details were, Andrea. If we even did go to Flint, we didn?t get there overland. I
know that. It?s not practical from this side of the lake.?
?Why are you calling me ?Andrea??? she asked. ?I?m Andromeda-your sister.?
Kalle felt himself grow deeply embarrassed. Why was his wife remembering his
TR experience? And the names and places he had visited while under the effects of
the machine?
?Where do you think you are right now, Cassandra? And who do you think you are
right now??
Cassandra? Who the hell was Cassandra supposed to be?
A disembodied voice-a distinctly female voice-seemed to echo from somewhere in
the room. The voice echoed Kalle?s silent ponderings. It was speaking aloud his
thoughts-his memories.
?This is not right,? he exclaimed. ?I?m still back in the lab-I have to be-?
?What lab, Cassie-what are you raving about??
?It?s Kalle-I am Kalle-,? he bellowed. However, he was rapidly aware that the sound
of his own voice was completely unlike that of a man. It was a female voice.
?Cassie-Kalle is-er-not really with us now-?
?What??
Kalle noticed several strands of long dirty blonde hair streaming from his scalp, over his
right eye, and dangling past his chin. He instinctively swept it away, straightening his
body-hugging top over a pair of round female breasts that protruded from his
ribcage.
?Kalle is no more-after the accident,? purred Andromeda. ?He?s only kind of here.
They were able to salvage much of him, but not enough to really call him alive.?
The room was different, too. It was colder, almost cheerless, and the meaty aroma
he had expected from the kitchen had become the stale odour of uncollected
rubbish.
?Then-why would I think I?m Kalle?? he demanded.
?I have no idea,? sputtered Andromeda. ?He was mostly salvaged and made into
one of the Antlerian series of worker-droids. Why am I telling you this, though?
You know this.?
?Andrea-Andromeda-I mean-no I don?t. I am Kalle. There?s no doubt in my mind.
I have to be!?
?Cassie! Listen-you?ve been having all kinds of delusions for the past five years. I
can?t believe you even recognise me any longer.?
That much was true. Kalle watched his wife slowly pass through several stages of
increasing symptoms of a savage illness that robbed her of her beauty and poise. As
he was coming to feel more like Cassandra, the woman he loved became bent, haggard
and pale.
?You were willing to sacrifice your pride, Cassie-I know you meant well-but the
municipal council doesn?t approve of what you were doing. It just isn?t right. They?ll
get me the medicine-I trust them.?
The trusting woman flickered then vanished from the LCD screen in the Kellogg
Building.
?You really watch any of that crap?? snickered Gerald Potestakaptos, the Prefect
of the Municipal Committee for Public Safety. He poked Antler IX in the ribs.
?It is in the manual, Mr. Potestakaptos,? replied the android.
?Everything has to be by the book for you bloodless types-don?t it?? guffawed the
Prefect. "Whatever turns you on, I know it's Yuma-or Kalle-whatever you call her-"
?I am not bloodless,? said Antler IX.
?And you don?t even find it weird to be spying on someone whose parts have been
used by you, three of your series, and a few others besides??
?The manual dictates my schedule, sir.?
?Well-my by-the-book fellow-do you think that airhead?s going to keep with
the programme? Or you think she?s going to be back, dancing at the Palace??
?She will do anything we require of her, Prefect. When Kalle Bilbao went
bankrupt we had no choice but to sell him for scrap. Five hundred thousand
debits are a lot to pay off. We have not seen the last of Yuma Pedon as long
as Cassandra Bilbao possesses a soul.?
THE END
Originally written on DEC 02, 2000
Inspired purely by Susan Johnson (found here on fictionmania)
And the Maitre d?Dobekville, the psylocibin visions of Robert Viereck,
Olaf Stapledon?s books, everyone in Iceland, and the many stars I am sure
that I have visited.
Naturally, the entire Arnold Schwarzenegger portfolio?
?and the Canadians who traditionally have fuelled the American entertainment
industry, especially Franklin W. Dixon?
Jane
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