by Rob Rosen
He sat next to me. I’d waited for this moment for so long now. Not just with Milo, but, you know, in general. I was twenty-two. Most people I knew weren’t virgins anymore, not even close. I was super horny, sure, but super scared as well. Plus, I was with a super alien.
“My body parts are just like yours,” he said, his hand placed over mine.
I looked down at said hand. “It’s not that.” Mostly. I mean, I’d already seen him as a hologram and knew that he didn’t have two dicks, that he didn’t have a veritable anaconda hidden inside his slacks, that he didn’t have cubes instead of balls. But no, those weren’t my concerns. Again, mostly. “I’ve, uh, never been with a man before?”
“But there are men all over your planet. Your father is a man. Surely, you’ve been with men.”
I sighed. “Been been.”
He shrugged. “I think my English studies were inadequate.”
My sigh repeated. My dick, miraculously, remained rock-solid. “Sexually. I’ve never been with a man sexually.” I forced a smile. Or maybe I’d already been smiling all the while. It was hard, no pun intended, to know. “You were the first person I ever kissed.”
He squinted my way. “Also, to quote your kind, no fucking way.”
I chuckled nervously. “Your English studies were more than adequate, Milo.” Same for the dude sitting next to me, who was way, way more than adequate. I mean, seriously, way. “It’s just, it never felt quite right…before.”
He smiled. He leaned in, his lips pressed to mine. I felt the air as it exhaled from his nose onto my upper lip. He squeezed my hand. “Humans,” he uttered, his face an inch from my own. “Do they believe in this concept of fate?”
I shrugged. “Some do, some don’t. Planet-Sixians?”
He laughed. I felt the rumble of it down my spine. “Cureans. We are known as Cureans. We speak Cureal. The first being on our planet was called Curea. In your mythos, he would’ve been known as Adam.” His grin widened. “I believe in fate, Randy. Our worlds aligned in our bedrooms. We’re the exact same age. We even look alike, to a degree. I found you on Facebook. If that all isn’t fate, I don’t know what is.” He stood. He reached his hand out toward mine. “Now then, would you care to fuck?”
“You’re pretty dirty for an intelligent life force.”
“You’re stalling. And yes, filthy.”
I was still sitting, his hand still reaching my way, like a lifeline. “You’ll be gentle?”
He grinned. “First you asked me to beat you, now you want me to be gentle? Looks like I picked a fickle alien to fall in…to fall in…” A blush rose up his neck. “So, you wanna fuck, please?”
I shrugged. “Well, since you said please, then sure.” And since I was in my twenties and still a virgin, again, sure. And since I was technically an emissary for my entire planet, again, sure. And since Milo looked like Milo, sure, sure, sure. Plus, my dick, by then, could surely crack open a safe.
All that is to say, a bed appeared out of a side wall a moment later and we were naked and writhing atop said bed a moment after that.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” he said, his hand stroking my cock as I in turn stroked his. His was longer, mine wider, though the heads were both fat and profusely leaking. And no, like I said, he didn’t have two dicks, and it wasn’t as long as an anaconda—well, maybe a baby one—and he had round balls, not square—in fact, they were more egg-shaped, oval, pendulous. I knew they were pendulous because they were soon hovering over me, pendulating, his dick down my throat, mine down his, like two round pegs in two round holes. In other words, we and they were a perfect fit—emphasis on the perfect.
I’d give you the nitty-gritty details, but, to be honest, there weren’t all that many. Mainly because I was a horny twenty-two-year-old virgin whose prick was expertly being sucked. That is to say, Vesuvius would’ve been jealous of my relatively quick and exceedingly satisfying, not to mention massive, eruption.
KAPOW! I went. Then, “Sorry,” I panted.
He looked between his legs at me, gobs of opalescent come dripping down his chin. He smiled. “I suppose that could be a testament to my sucking, but is more likely one to simply being young.”
“And a virgin.”
He nodded. He rolled over onto his back. “Yeah, that.” He grabbed his hefty tool. A few dozen strokes later, Vesuvius blew yet again. “You’re not the only twenty-two-year-old around here, you know.”
I watched all this in stupefied amazement, as his body tensed, mouth agape, eyes shut tight, cock exploding, drenching the sheets beneath us. “Yeah, that,” I echoed.
I flipped around and nestled in next to him. It felt equal parts odd and familiar, as if we’d always been together like this, dripping come and gleaming with sweat. It was a pretty picture, not to mention wonderfully aromatic.
Oh, and though there was no penetration—at least not yet—I was, by my own definition, no longer a virgin. Wait, nix that: NO LONGER A VIRGIN. Yes, better. And phew and amen. Praise be to the belching one up above.
“You saw me through the mirror. You saw me and then friended me on Facebook.” I said. “You knew you were breaking the law, so, um, why?”
“Look at me, Randy.”
I did. There was that moth/flame thing again. Deer meet headlights. “And?”
“Now look at you.”
I nodded, my head on his broad expanse of chest, a light smattering of blond hair trailing down between his dense pecs. “We look like we could be brothers,” I said. “Different hair color, different eye color, but everything else is remarkably similar.”
“I could see you through your mirror, like you said. I pieced together who you were based on that lip-reading ability of mine. I found you on Facebook, also like you said. There was a pull there, a connection, that word I used before: fate.” He smiled. “There weren’t a million hot guys on Facebook, Randy; there was only you.”
My head pulled away from his chest as my heart went boom, boom, boom. “Me, too! Me, too! I felt all that as well. Why is that? We don’t even know each other?” Apart from biblically, I meant. As in post come-drenched, um, coming.
He smiled. “Beats me.”
“See how that expression comes in handy.”
He pushed himself up onto his elbows. “And you wanna? Beat me, I mean? Or certain parts of me?”
My smile mirrored his. “Give me a few minutes.” I looked down at my dick. Its crowbar-ness had already returned. Go figure. “Or, you know, a few seconds.”
He was already on all fours, balls dangling, cock hovering. Oh, such a sight. Da Vinci would’ve had a field day with Milo. “One step ahead of you, Randy,” he said over his shoulder. “One step ahead.”
Chapter 9
The sun went down. Our group of four reunited for dinner in the other apartment: paste al fresco, washed down with fluorided water, all served on an outdoor terrace. Yes, you told the wall to do it and it did. Presto!
“Is this absolutely all your people eat?” I asked, trying—and failing miserably—to down the Elmer’s entrée.
Milo nodded his head. “This is government subsidized food, available in all buildings for free. Food is free, clothes are free, technology is free—after taxes are collected, of course. As to variety, that exists only for the holy.”
“Holy?” I asked.
He nodded. “Nuns,” he replied. “The nuns eat only food of the earth.”
I listened to him, but kept my eye on the girl, on Britney. Just the one eye, though; the other was glued on Milo—glued and stapled and cemented, in fact. Because you rarely see a moth fluttering around a flame that utters, “Seen it, been there, done it, bye.” I ignored the nun comment. I figured we’d never meet one of those, not unless they were also hiding from the authorities in a nearby empty apartment. FYI, I figured wrong. Sort of. But wait, that part’s coming soon enough.
And so, with dinner done, I walked Craig back inside the apartment and whispered, “What’s with her?”
He g
rinned, a flush of red sprinkling his cheeks. “Who, Britney? What about her?”
“She doesn’t have much to say.”
He shrugged. “She doesn’t speak our language.”
I nodded. I blinked. It seemed they’d spoken plenty. I socked him in the arm. “I bet she speaks the language of looove.” I drew the word out as I made kissy-faces at him.
His blush deepened. He quickly resembled a beet. “Idiot.”
“Nerd.”
Craig sighed. “We had Tag. Tag makes for a great interpreter.”
“And what did he interpret?”
We sat on the couch. “She was arrested for computer hacking, or whatever it is the devices they have here are called. She tried to explain it. It all went over my head. Like the Alps. Only higher. Anyway, she hacked into Earth-Watch, saw what they were up to.”
“Anything more than we already know?” My belly did its usual knot-twisting routine.
He nodded. The blush disappeared, replaced by a blanched white. “They’ve already been to our planet.”
“Fuck,” I exhaled.
“They’ve been experimenting on us.”
“Fuck, fuck.”
“They can’t get the Y chromosome back onto their roster. They thought that maybe they could do gene splicing, gene replacement, using ours to fix theirs, but it doesn’t seem to work. Maybe because we’re a different species, maybe because their Z chromosome suppresses it. Either way, that experiment was a bust.”
I sensed a but. “But?”
“Interbreeding. They tried impregnating their women by our men, all on Earth, to see if the resulting baby boys were born with an active Y chromosome.”
“Isn’t that the same thing, though?” I asked. “Just a different version of the same experiment?”
He shrugged. “On paper, I suppose. But sometimes things in the lab work out differently than allowing Mother Nature to work her magic. In any case, it worked, to a degree. The baby boys born this way, back here on this planet, had an active Y and an active Z chromosome.”
I sensed yet another but. “But?”
“But these boys were born infertile. They think the problem occurred when the women traveled back through the portal, some sort of low-level radiation effecting the embryo, low enough not to do damage to a grown-up, but just enough to do damage to anything being toted around in a womb. And they won’t bring Earth men back here. They think it’s too dangerous. Like when Columbus did his whole Nina, Pinta, Santa Maria gig, and then wiped out all the indigenous people with various diseases. So, all that said, thus far, they’ve won the battle, but not the war. Their population problem is still just that: a problem.”
“Uh-huh, so now what are their plans?”
At that moment, Milo and Britney and our holographic buddy, Tag, joined the conversation. It was Tag who replied to my question. “Our world is going to die, Randy, give or take a few dozen generations. And if the people on this planet can’t bring your genes into our world…”
I got the gist. Loud and clear. “Invasion. If you can’t have our genes, you’ll take our planet instead. Bring your women to our world, impregnate them, have healthy babies that way, fertile babies.” It had to be the only other alternative, I figured.
Milo nodded. “Which is really why they arrested me. As far as they know, I’m the only one who’s made contact. I could ruin their entire plan.”
I nodded. I frowned. This was awful. And Craig and I were the only humans to know about it: a nerdy eighteen-year-old and a stunningly handsome and no-longer-a-virgin twenty-two-year-old. And yes, that was me tooting my own horn. Toot! “So, that means there’s more than one point of contact, not just my mirror and Milo’s mirror.”
Milo shrugged. “Makes sense, I suppose. The universes touch down here and there, in my bedroom, somewhere else that the government found. Who knows, maybe there are dozens of junctions.”
I cringed. Dozens, he said. Dozens of places for this ridiculously powerful race to invade us. I looked at Britney and nodded my head her way. “Does she know, know where your people entered my world?”
Tag shook his nonexistent head. “I told you everything she told us. She was arrested fairly quickly after she found out that much. You might be able to hack into our government’s system, obviously, but it’s impossible not to eventually get caught; the security is just too advanced.” He turned and looked her way. “She learned that the hard way.”
“And why is she with us now?” I asked.
“We have weapons,” Milo replied. “And we’re clearly not with the government. As your people say, she’s putting all her eggs into our basket.”
Poor girl. Little did she know how full of holes our basket actually was. I mean, a bunch of young guys and a hologram did not an army make. A rock group, maybe, but an army, no friggin’ way.
I looked over at my brother. “Even if we make it home, who would believe us? I don’t even believe us, and I’m part of, you know, us.” Plus, how could I ask Milo for help? His people were dying. Earth was their only hope. His salvation, in theory, was my death sentence. I mean, best-case scenario, they shared the planet with us. Sadly, though, our planet was crowded enough as it was. Plus, we didn’t do sharing all that well.
In other words, rock met hard place—and not the good kind of hard place either.
Craig frowned. “You said if we make it home.”
I gulped. My frown mirrored his. “The connection could be lost forever and at any time.” Oh, how I felt guilty. I should never have let him come with me. This was my adventure, not his. And what if we didn’t make it back? My poor parents. God, I was stupid. What had I been thinking? Then again, it wasn’t the big head that was doing the thinking at the time. “We’ll make it back, little bro. I promise. And we’ll fix this whole mess.”
And no, I didn’t believe any of that, not one stinking iota, not by a longshot.
§ § § §
We laid low for two days, out of sight of the authorities. That is to say, I got laid for two days. And if you had to be terrified for two days, there were worse places to be than next to Milo, spooning at the forks in our roads.
Still, we weren’t twiddling our thumbs—or other certain body parts—that entire time. For one, Milo agreed to help. In fact, Milo volunteered. Eagerly. Turned out, the average Curean hated the government. Sure, the sixth planet was Eden, but the snake was firmly in control. Plus, Milo liked Earth. He said, and I quote, “It’s kitschy.” I was pretty certain that was normally something of an insult, but I knew that someone who came from Planet Bland meant that as a high compliment. Secondly, Britney was gung-ho to finish what she’d started, namely finding out what Earth-Watch was up to. She’d turned over one stone, but there was an entire footpath yet to uncover.
“This building we’re in,” Craig said on day one. “It’s almost entirely vacant?”
Tag did a scan. “Ninety-eight percent vacant.”
“And there are computers in them?” he asked.
“Not like you’re thinking,” Milo said. “You simply ask the apartment what you need and the apartment replies or provides. The houses are slightly different, though. There, we have something akin to your computers, but only because the houses are older. In any case, the government controls all of it, city to suburb. Food is constructed as needed. Energy is turned on as needed.” He squinted at my brother. “Why? Why do you ask?”
“This city has been mostly empty for years, right?” he replied.
“No new buildings have been built for more than two hundred years,” replied Tag. “The city has slowly been emptying that entire time. Since long before that, really. For generations upon generations.”
“Again, why do you ask?” Milo said.
Craig smiled. It was a sly smile. It was a smile of hope. “Ask Britney how she hacked the government computer. Ask her about the equipment she used.”
Milo did as was told. The two spoke briefly enough, until Milo replied, “The system at the orphanage is th
e latest technology. She obtained the administrator’s passwords through the system. The administrator works for the government. The information about Earth-Watch is only available to high-ranking officials, such as the administrator.”
Craig snapped his fingers. “That’s it then. The latest technology.”
“Lost,” said I.
“Shocked,” said he.
“Must you?” said I.
“I must,” said he. “Anyway, if you use the latest technology, and the government provides all the technology, then the government is going to find out if you’re up to no good. Proof of this: the second she stumbled across Earth-Watch, they were on to her.”
Milo, too, snapped his fingers. Heck, even Tag attempted such a feat. Me, my fingers merely hung there—lazy and stupid fingers that they are. “Still lost,” I admitted impatiently.
“And still shocked,” Craig said.
Milo tilted his head. “You don’t look shocked.”
I held up my hands in submission. “Never mind. Please, just explain.”
Tag nodded and smiled my way. He really did look like an angel. “What your brother is suggesting, and ingeniously at that, if I might add, is that significantly older technology might not be traceable any more. It would be as if the two systems spoke a completely different language.”
Craig nodded. “Imagine your computer if you didn’t upgrade it every so often. Now, multiply that by hundreds of years.”
I shrugged. “If you say so, but if I didn’t upgrade my computer every so often, it would eventually stop running.”
“No,” said Craig. “You wouldn’t be able to connect to anything properly, but it would still operate.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “But then, what would be the point?”
Craig flopped down on the couch and rolled, rolled, rolled his eyes. He looked exasperated. I tended to have that effect on people. Especially him. “Your computer is not like theirs. Theirs is far, far more advanced. I’d imagine that theirs would still operate, could still give information, perhaps a bit slower, perhaps not everything you asked for, but, again, you’d still get information. Hopefully, because the system is so old, the government would no longer be tapped into it.”
