In addition the church is now officially closed, what should open in its place is a community center for troubled youths. I will do the startup of the center and take care of staffing. The drug and alcohol programs should continue to run along with general counselling for those that need it. Pastor B. Washington’s ill-gotten gains should run the center for a good long time.” states D.
Frosty address the group:
“It’s my opinion that we have the public legal system and we have the criminal illegal system. The three dirty cops and a few of the worst mid-management thugs should be incarcerated in a manner that will satisfy the public’s thirst for what they feel is appropriate justice. However, from a criminal standpoint I feel a very clear objective lesson needs to be provided to involved gangland elite. Accordingly I propose to kill and dismember Fat Art and B. Washington and send them back to the appropriate mailing addresses in barrels. The two of them deserve the death penalty, and we need to impress the criminal element, receiving their bodies in pieces tends to get their attention. It also sends a very clear message that this Trade Station has no mercy or tolerance for their crimes. If you fuck around on the Trade Station you get sent home in a barrel!” says Frosty.
“I endorse that position a hundred percent, and we can inform the public that Fat Art and B. Washington resisted arrest and were unfortunately killed in the resulting firefight.” adds Mike.
“It works for me, as I get my prisoners, public criminals, and my dirty cops to lock up and make a very visual optics statement.” confirms the Police Chief.
“Works for me, D do you have anything to add?” I ask.
“I’m fine with what is proposed, particularly as the Hybrids that hurt me are dead.” replies D. “And I am looking forward to helping the troubled youth. I think we can make a huge difference in this area and we have all sorts of funding generously donated by the previous owners. From what I’ve seen of these victims they are going to need a lot of therapy and help. So I’m eager to get started.”
“Then the matter is settled.” stated Mike.
Chapter 16: Humans
D and I are cuddled in bed.
“I just want to tell you D you make one very smoking hot hooker, you know that?
“Careful human, I can still find the suppressed 9mm.”
“True enough, but I’m just saying with admiration, you did a hell of a great acting job!”
“Thanks, sorry, I’m just a little shocked and touchy about those two pieces of shit Hybrids and what I read in their simple little chicken brains.”
“Why is that?”
“You know what they had planned for me?”
“Well it’s a pretty easy guess, D.”
“Not so much, the sex is obvious, but not so obvious is their plans of bondage and raping me repeatedly over the next three days and then beating me to death on film, snuff film style!”
“Do you regret us killing them D?”
“Not at all, our paths converged and they meant me harm.”
“Would you have killed them if our paths had not converged?
“No, I’ll only kill to protect myself and those I love, and when I do I have neither guilt nor regrets.”
“Fair enough D, I’ll shoot them again for you, before I feed them into the garbage incinerator!”
“Sweet of you Matt, It was great fun doing the acting whore part for a couple of minutes, but after that you realize why you are so popular and learn the horrible things some people want to do to you, and the rush kinda fades to revulsion.”
“Welcome to the extremely vexing world of humanity D.”
Chapter 17: Conclusion
We took Fat Art, the lump of shit, and Washington the religious sleaze bag and we (I) dismembered them with my Sonic-Vibra Kukri knife. As a matter of fact I neglected to kill them prior to dismemberment, but no matter as they died horribly anyway. I remembered the beaten and near death women, the dead boys while I worked and I enjoyed Fat Art and Washington’s screams.
It is true some would cast aspersions on my methods and call me a butcher, call me no better than the filth of humanity that I dismembered. To those I would say ‘you are correct’, a man can be many things depending on what is necessary. I do not have the luxury to remain aloof with impunity of the crime around me. So I am brutally effective in a manner similar to or worse than my opponents. I play to win, not to be a nice guy or hold foolish theories of man evolving away from his basic instincts. We are a waring species and willfully inflict horror on ourselves by choice and desire. These two wretched pieces of shit made their choice years prior when they decided to pursue a dark path, even though they knew at some point the ultimate personal price was to be paid. Fat Art and sleazy Washington died of natural causes, natural pursuant to their careers, habits and life style.
Then I packed them in a couple of forty-five gallon drums that had contained cleaning solution, sealed it up and shipped them back to their planet based head office as a not so subtle message. When such a thing occurs in the criminal world there is instant indignation and outrage that someone dared to touch them, and dare to mess with their people. So the Mob would immediately send out a team of investigators to find out what the hell happened and what’s going on. We knew from the manifests and passenger lists from the incoming flights arriving at the Trade Station who was coming and it was pretty easy for D, Muther and the sisters to collect a very accurate profile on all the passengers. It turned out it was two men and a woman that were coming out to the Trade Station to investigate and find out WTF. Frankly they reminded me of auditors more than anything, and in a way I guess that is exactly what they were, auditors and killers, to re-establish the norm. To make inquiries, talk to people, find out all they could about what happened, listen to the street talk, and feel out opportunities to rebuild the operation, perhaps to even interview new staff. The darker side of their assignment is to identify clearly who had caused this disaster so they could kill us.
We got the insect drones on them as soon as they came in through the airlock; got a sniff of their respective DNA’s and assigned the drones to follow and record audio, visual, incoming and outgoing calls, what they ate and when they went to the bathroom. This was a “checks and balances” exercise. We needed to know who they are talking to. Trying to ensure that we have captured all the bad guys is like trying to operate and clean out all the cancer in a victim, or eradicate crabgrass and dandelions from your lawn with a single treatment. You just know it is not going to be a once and done situation. So we watched and listened to see how many and how much we had missed.
It was more than we anticipated; we found via the drones that a number of Shops had been accepting stolen produce at reduced prices as supplied by the Mob. The shop owners made three times the profit, the Mob was happy, the shops were happy and nobody knew the difference. We also found more of the “wannabe’s” ready to move in to the breach of the arrested criminals. And we found out that Marge, the Chief of Police’s secretary/receptionist, was dirty and accepting Mob money payback for knowledge of the Police Chief’s schedule and activities. Marge had been with the Chief for many years and had become increasingly dependent since her husband passed away. Turns out she was pirating away all the money she could to get an appointment with Renavatio Ltd to get a clone. Apparently she wanted more time to kick up her heels and was not the least inclined to get old peacefully. In a way I could not blame her as I would likely do the same thing. But on the other hand she was rolling over on her boss of some twenty years. The breach of trust and friendship of that length of time is particularly bitter.
Negotiating with the mob is a delicate business, we whack their people, they whack ours, we retaliate as do they and on it goes. Our assignment is to ensure the Trade Station stays clear of organized crime. Our investigations through Fat Art and company gave us great insights. You might say it gave us information as to what rocks to look under back on earth. The sisters did just that very, very thoroughly. We got a complete organi
zational structure, stock reports, shipment dates, cash flow complete with bank accounts. Another words we got the mob by the testicles with a straight razor poised to sever.
We collected the so called auditors, all those that they spoke to, obtained where the auditor’s report was to go and made our own report. It is very straightforward negotiating as we have all the cards and they have nothing. We want the Trade Station clean and sanitized and to stay that way. If they chose not to comply with our wishes we show them what is going to happen to their land based operation. Stay out or else we swipe with the razor and away go your balls. Very basic, very clear, very personal, so everyone could understand.
We even fabricated an excellent video VR persona to do a video conference with them. We used the Virtual Reality suite that Poe set up for use. The persona character and the setting were perfect. I’m pleased to say the organized crime mob got the message very quickly and were extremely co-operative. Of course they were hysterical in the background as we knew they would be as we had exposed their whole operation. So we’ll be reviewing their organizational modifications on a quarterly basis to see if we need to provide them with addition “consultation and guidance” in their operational activities.
We also collected a couple of the local “wannabe’s” that figured they could slide into the vacated positions and take over. Guess they did not read the memo closes enough to realize the positions were eliminated through re-organization. Anyway we added them to our ash collection too.
And that, as they say, was that. Mike and his people cleaned up the rest of the mess and a number of store owners were evicted from the Trade Station. Predictably a couple of the Police Force members were busted and also evicted. After that it all quieted down nicely and we just kept an eye and ear on who was arriving and leaving from the Trade Station to ensure we kept the bad guys out.
Chapter 18: Reflection
It is a totally new experience for D to organize, setup, and convert the church into a Community Health Center. She had a ready-made client base from the efforts of the recently deceased Fat Art, so there was no shortage of patients for D and staff to work with. Her task was a far cry from the theoretical field of intense scientific research and presented D with a completely human and sociological real world problem set.
D was now in the human groove like never before. Up early to get ready for a full day of work, meetings, sessions, decisions, staff issues, budgets, accounting, projections, etc, etc, all the tools used in modern day businesses. Back from work late is the norm, tired, worn out aggravated, needing a therapy session herself to deal with the days stress and strains. It was a period of huge transitional change for D. She was literally jumping in at the deep end of the pool.
We watched, assisted if necessary, listened, offered a minimum of advice and basically left D to sort this stuff out for herself. Which she had no problem doing given her Artilect ability. Funny thing about that ability though, sometimes others don’t recognize it as an ability and are not the least bit interested in it, so often the tool is ineffective. This was a great eye-opener to D, and she struggled to accept the concept. She was learning the complexities and the variations of human character and behavior. How to build an organizational construct that has direction, purpose and objectives, yet allows the cats some degree of wandering, while all heading in the same directions. It’s a fine art and requires a gentle touch as humanity works best when it has skin in the game and is not being constrained and ordered around like animals. Successful dynamics of an organization can be a fleeting and daunting goal.
Often D would come home almost in tears as she struggled to understand herself, her feelings, the situation, and the relationship with peers and patients. Muther, Poe, Frosty and I were there for support and to listen and sometimes even discuss. I have my suspicions that Beast was D’s greatest stress relief source and who she turned to first for comforting. She would come home and just drop into a chair looking utterly lovely, yet exhausted, Beast would trot over and there would be this magical connection as D and Beast melded together into a collection of arms, legs, fur, hair, tail, hugging and gurgling happily to one another. Somedays it resolved into a tickle session on the floor, some days into an impromptu pet and nap session. Beast was always there to ensure that no matter what happened at work that he was here to make her day enjoyable and rewarding. Beast makes regular visits to the facility and is very popular with the youth studying there. It’s not a myth the unconditional acceptance by animals as a therapy is alive, well and very tangible and critical for folks that are having a hard go of things.
A board of directors was setup for the facility; Mike the Trade Station CEO sat on the board as did Frosty and a number of other well-known and influential business owners on the Trade Station. D worked her magic from a director’s position, although she really liked the personal interaction with the patients. Of course they loved her to death, the girls saw her as a role model and all the boys had terrible crushes on her. D’s Artilect intelligence certainly had its place as you were not able to slide any bullshit past her and she could analyze and see through people in a fraction of time that most people could. She was very effective in one on one’s with the patients.
While the counseling and psychology services were available and a mainstay, there were also needs for upgrading educational levels. The majority of the patients were severely lacking in educational capabilities ranging from basic skill sets all the way to college level and/or trade level skills. We were very fortunate as once the facility got known and started up we had volunteers come forward to assist. It was very rewarding for us to see how many teachers would share their time to help the young people that had got off to a very bad start. In addition we had evening classes where local professional people would come in and conduct classes, and trades people run classes for those that displayed the associated interest or ability.
D even asked me to come in and run a series of classes on Society and Sociology. While it was true that years back I had acquired a Bachelors and Master degree in such things it represented a huge change for me. I must confess that I pondered on the challenge for quite some time, yes I am qualified and yes I can compose a series of classes. But internally inside me I fought emotionally with whether I can go back to a wonderful yet horrific time, stand face to face with my most terrifying nightmares and still be objective without incurring mental and emotional distress. In the end it was the youth of the facility that touched me, the way they looked, the needs they had, I could not deny them my efforts and turn my back and walk away.
There are some who would say it is a good thing to be face to face with our worst nightmares and to work our way successfully through them and benefit personally and others in greater need. It’s an instructive and gratifying process for us of confronting and chewing through the nightmare such that it loses the sway it holds over us. Therapy by fire I suppose you might say.
One thing for sure I have learned to date in my life is that if you stop, or allow yourself to be stopped, in your personal development you are dead. I offer this as I perceive few realize the value of the ongoing beneficial efforts of never ending development. To stop and grow old and stagnant is to acquiesce to death.
So I teach, yes me, a big old lump of whupass, teaching Sociology to youth that have made bad choices and been horribly victimized. Don’t be shaking your head and chuckling you buggers, you should have the opportunity to do as well. And for your information I am very adamant on teaching self-sufficiency, accountability and responsibility. You make the choices, so choose wisely, if you chose incorrectly you can repeat the world of shit that you are currently working diligently to extract yourself from. It’s all up to you and what YOU do, so THINK carefully.
D says my classes are extremely popular. I think she is just fluffing my ego. She says the males see me as a role model, and the females are in love with me. Good christ, I hope not and I try to keep such nonsense thoughts out of my mind. I suppose a part of me likes the
fluffing of the ego, I mean who wouldn’t. But, it’s all about the youth, not about me.
The facility is enjoying very favorable community acceptance and for those youth that have completed their time at the facility we have been enjoying very good placement in work programs with employers. We monitor this closely and both the participants and the employers are pleased with how things are going. Sure we have those who slip backwards, but a very high percentage of the youth succeed.
It goes without saying that while I am teaching or more accurately while I am not teaching, I monitor the comings and goings of those arriving at the Trade Station. There are a few I have my eye on, well more specifically Muther has an insect eye on monitoring their behavior. We know who they are and their background and who they talk to and what they say. For now it is just monitoring and we maintain the very sharp straight razor over the corporate and personal testicles of the earth based mob, should it come to pass they need a reminder.
Frosty, Muther and the sisters are involved in heavy discussion filling whiteboard after whiteboard with equations, calculations, graphs and whatnot, occasionally the term “quantum computing” will show up in conversation along with “Dembinski fields, inhibiting decoherence, and Markovian master equations”. I keep my distance so none of that lot sticks to me. When and if they need my assistance they will let me know.
I choose to spend some of my spare time chatting and visiting with old Freddie and the “peeler girls” down at the “Station Place” bar and grill. Word had got out of Freddie assisting us in our efforts to rescue the girls held by Fat Art and also Freddie beating an Alien Hybrid to death with his crowbar. So in his environment he is currently enjoying superstar status. And more power to him, he’s a solid lad and deserves the associated perks.
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