by Gentry Race
“Oh man,” Trevor said. “He’s at it again, Dr. Dee. He wants to use my powers to make his plan even more powerful. Something about a massive Sharkano surge on Earth? He plans to use a ray of some sort to initiate it.”
“Yes,” Dr. Dickens said, scratching his head. “Sure, we will get back to that shortly. Now, how did you get back, and who is your friend?”
Cosma stepped closer. Her long, flowing, white hair graced her primate face, which looked more human than monkey. Her eyes were a deep reddish-brown with a dark sclera. Anita couldn’t believe how dark her skin was. Black as tar, with slight milk chocolate freckles sprinkled throughout.
She’s a goddamn dessert, Anita thought, chuckling to herself.
“Well, doctor,” Cosma said, her lips moving as intricately as a human’s. “You see, while on my unsuccessful jump, I learned that a geo-thermal battery was essential to properly teledeport.”
Everyone was quiet and listening to the half primate, half woman speak, a sight in her official astronaut space suit.
“Same principles apply to Trevor,” Cosma continued, “Except all he needs to teledeport is a battery boost — until he learns to reuse his energy outlets.”
Anita watched Cosma’s deep red eyes dance all over Trevor’s nether regions. The fact that Trevor had already had sex with the beast girl, her old pet monkey, was sort of off-putting.
“Of course!” Dr. Dickens shouted, adjusting his spectacles and hugging Cosma. “You are our Cosma. It really is you, old girl?”
Anita couldn’t hold back the emotion any longer. She’d been so hurt when Cosma had been teledeported to an unknown place that she ran with open arms to the primate humanoid that was now sexier than ever.
“Cosma,” Anita gushed as she ran past Trevor, who’s arms were open for a hug, and embraced Cosma. “Who’s a good girl?”
“Alive and more than okay, it seems,” Dr. Dickens said, walking to Trevor and placing his hands on his shoulders. “Tell me everything, but first… geo-thermal batteries was what you said, yeah?”
“Yep,” Trevor replied.
“Ho yob,” Dr. Dickens continued, looking at everyone with heavy anguish. “This is… this is a big deal. I mean…”
Everyone watched the lead scientist carefully as he deduced a formulation that only a decorated scholar could. Dr. Dickens tapped his fingers on his wrinkled white coat and poked his face as he fretted, like an involuntary twitch.
“Sweet baby Tesla!” yelled the doctor at the top of his lungs. “What does Beta want with you?”
Anita shook her head in disappointment. Her father always claimed to be on the forefront of science, which comes from the Latin word scire, to know. However, these days he seemed to exhibit the opposite: nescire, to not know.
“We’ll find out before it’s too late,” Trevor assured him. “Besides, I’m still a little uncomfortable with my condition. You know, being a MONSTER HERO!”
He had a point. Anita sympathized with the blue oaf. He wanted his molecules back and she couldn’t blame him for feeling a little weird about being able to teledeport, integrate, and have his bones show through when he was mad. But if they were to discover a solution, they would have to think differently.
“Wait!” Anita barked. “We can’t just keep running rampant. We need a better strategy.”
Trevor and Dr. Dickens looked at each other and blushed. Meanwhile, Cosma was silent in the corner of the room. Anita could see she was percolating some grand idea – despite being half primate.
“I agree,” Cosma finally said. “We need to fix Trevor so he’s combat ready. He wasn’t in the best condition when I had to SAVE him. If he’s up to snuff, then we will teledeport to that god-awful island and rock Beta’s world... Anita, what do you got?”
Anita liked Cosma’s style. She was a get-down-to-business type of woman — primate. Anita still couldn’t believe she was talking to her pet monkey, but she was right. They had to upgrade Trevor and stop Beta at all costs. The fate of the world rested in their hands.
She walked over and grabbed some geo-thermal batteries off the work table next to her console, then approached Trevor. Upon closer examination, it was apparent that his suit had seen some action. Pits and marks scoured the makeshift suit that kept his molecules together. This told Anita he was willing to risk his life to make a change — to become something bigger than he was.
“I could use the geo-thermal batteries to create a fail-safe in case Dr. Beta gets ahold of you,” Anita offered. “You will be limited, due to the higher energy cost, but at least I can bring you home. You will be more controlled.”
“That’s it baby,” Trevor quipped, “I like being in control.”
Anita rolled her eyes at the pompous comment. “I said, ‘controlled’.”
“That’s what I said,” he replied, confident that his answer had been misconstrued.
“Nevermind,” Anita continued, “Come with me.”
Beams of light arced throughout the room, emanating from various parts of Trevor’s body. He felt less stifled in the new suit that Anita had put together, and one thing was for sure — it was shiny. Every orifice of the room reflected on each part of Trevor’s body, like tin foil.
“Okay, so this is it,” Anita said. “I’ll remotely gauge your power. You don’t need a teledeportator to boost anymore. I can also help you carry more mass with less effort, by focusing your power.”
“Wow,” Cosma said, eyeing the new upgrades. “Looks like brainiac over here can make Trevor better. Now I’ve seen it all.”
“Very funny,” Anita said, giving Cosma a disapproving stare, as if she were a child who’d spewed an inappropriate comment. While the response seemed harsh, Trevor could tell it simply was friendly banter “Now let’s go over the plan, Cosma.”
Trevor watched Anita step over a few cables that ran to the back of the room. She’s so smart. He wished he could be with someone with so much knowledge, who actually found him attractive. You learn a lot about someone by how they solve problems, and he’d learned that Anita was the scientist to have around. Despite her rejections, Trevor would have to learn to respect what she wanted. He had a newfound confidence to persevere, which he chalked up to his monster power.
Anita’s leggings were tighter than usual, and Trevor fought with all his might to hold back his yearning. But it was too late. He had already felt his member start to swell inside his pants, and when she reached around the slide projector and fired it up, giving just the slightest glance of her chest, it was game over. She didn’t want that head, though. Anita was the type of woman that wanted the book thrown at her — in a good way.
Trevor looked down in fear, hoping his dick hadn’t phased out already, but it was contained, thanks to his new suit. Relief fell over him just as he noticed the projected image on the wall. A set of odd, animated characters that looked like Cosma, the Femroids, and him. Their bodies were drawn much too small for their large heads.
“Whoa,” he said, “Why didn’t anyone tell me my head was so big?”
“Sometimes it is,” Cosma quipped.
Anita blushed. “I have a fascination with Chibi animations, and this is their stylistic form.”
She switched the slide over to the next one, and Trevor could see it was him and Cosma, with their god awful large heads, shooting a new weapon at the crotches of the Femroids.
“As soon as you arrive, we shall neutralize any Femroid threat in sight with the WIMP gun,” Anita said.
“Right!” Dr. Dickens said, leaning over a notepad. He drew furiously in one spot as the paper whittled down to nothing, “Just hit them in their soft spot. They should fall apart quickly.”
The next slide projected a schematic of a gun. The style felt like a cross between a ray gun and a flashlight. The nozzle, unique in of itself, was obtuse and broad like a musket’s. Just below it, an inscription was scribbled: ‘Wave Induced Magnetic Pulse’.
“Where’s the WIMP gun?” Trevor asked.
“
Wave Induced Magnetic Pulses,” Cosma explained. “WIMP.”
“Everyone got that?” Anita asked with a less than approving stare. “Trevor? You onboard?”
“Like a surfer in the sunrise,” he replied.
“Moving on,” Anita said.
“Uh,” Trevor said hesitantly, “I heard him say he likes to call it Molecutron?”
“That’s the stupidest name I’ve ever heard,” Dr. Dickens yelled out in a fit.
Another slide clicked into place; a glorified version of Trevor and Cosma executing all the correct moves and using stealth to sneak their way into the upper window, sabotage Dr. Beta’s plan, and drown him in a lake infested with lava sharks. They leave, but then, in the midst of the horror, run back to grab the teledeportator parts they had forgotten. As if she knew they would forget.
Trevor balked at the gore but then grew genuinely frustrated as he made out the details.
“Absurd!” he concluded, “How can we sneak through that window with heads that large?”
“It’s just an example. Jesus Christ,” Cosma said, “Moving on.”
“No. Religion has nothing to with it,” Trevor said, standing up as if giving a school lecture. “I will use the new suit to teleport us to a precise location. Once there, Cosma and I will make it to the main control room, all stealthy-like, bypassing that window so that our heads can fit through. There, we will get your assistance to teleport back after sabotaging Beta’s plan, but not before drowning him in his own vat of shark infested lava.
Anita palmed her face, “Don’t forget to bring the parts…”
“Oh, right!” Trevor amended. “All while bringing the working parts home safe.”
Anita turned off the slide projector and turned on the lights, and Trevor’s eyes winced from the change. Dr. Dickens stood up holding his notepad, which consisted of random scratches, doodles, and scrapes around a hole in the center page.
“Don’t forget those parts!” Dr. Dickens exclaimed, “Only then will I be able to create a Teledeportator receiver that can rearrange your molecules back to normal.”
Trevor looked at Cosma in reassurance and then at Anita. He raised his finger and thumb in an ‘L’ position, pointed it at the two of them, and shot them a wink.
“Are you sure you’ve got it?” Anita asked skeptically.
“As best as I can,” Trevor promised. “Now, let’s get to swinging on a star.”
“I thought you’d reven ksa,” Dr. Dickens said, hitting a small cassette player.
“Never ask?” Anita corrected her father.
Belting from a small speaker on Trevor’s new suit, the notes of Frank Sinatra’s, ‘Would You Like to Swing On a Star’ began to play. Trevor snapped his fingers and stepped to the music in a harmonious rhythm. He grabbed Cosma by the hand and spun her in place while mouthing the words to the song.
“Why do I feel like you’re singing this in a sarcastic way?” Anita asked.
“I am,” Trevor said with a wink. “Or else I would need the copyright.”
Anita smiled and shook her head just before Trevor began to glow, his dense, inky black skeleton showing within.
He grabbed Cosma, and they vanished.
12
Swinging on a Star
The Quantum tunnel was in full effect when Trevor and Cosma entered back into the purple and pink striated construct of the inner cosmos. Trevor still snapped his fingers, unafraid this time that he was falling. He caught Cosma staring at him with a smile, but she was hesitant to rock out to the music that seemed to echo throughout.
“Oh, come on, beautiful,” Trevor said, singing along to the music, “You could be… swinging on star.”
He grabbed her hand and spun her around. She gracefully twirled, catching his other hand with her primate feet in perfect rhythm.
Cosma blushed. “You are something else, Trevor Jones.”
He could tell she had a fire in her. The same fire he tried to show at times, but he knew it was coming out as pompous humor. She was stronger than any woman he’d met. A warrior. He wondered how long she would stay around, putting up with his shenanigans.
“And all the monkeys aren't in the zoo. Every day, you meet quite a few,” Trevor continued to sing. “So you see, it's all up to you. You can be better than you are.”
“You could be swinging on a star,” Cosma finally sang.
What had been bright pink and purple swirls now turned to drab concrete dressed in wrought iron. Cosma and Trevor were in a hallway in Dr. Beta’s layer. The sulfurous smell made Cosma wince and Trevor hold his nose in disdain. They walked a little further to see another hallway dog-legging to the right. Here, a group of Femroids were marching in formation.
“Would you like to swing on a star?” Trevor hummed.
These were a new type of Femroid, with tight, silvery, high-thighed panties and a connecting top; also, their skin wasn’t the soft silicone Trevor had come to love. Instead, a blue translucent skin similar to his own was now present. Their skeletal structure could be seen through the Jell-O like substrate, indicating a different material other than bone.
“What the hell?” Cosma whispered. “Why do they look like you?”
Trevor thought back to when he first arrived. The nurture twins. Ms. Brown and Ms. Red had taken him to that pleasure room, and he came inside Ms. Brown’s newly upgraded nether region. And then he remembered how they had merged into each other. Ms. Joy had warned him about possible reproduction—
“Uh oh. Phantom Femroids?”
“What do you mean ‘Uh oh’?” Cosma asked, grabbing him by the collar and pushing him against the wall.
“Well,” Trevor said hesitantly, “I may have had relations with a bot or two?”
“Other than Ms. Joy?” Cosma wanted to know, her voice rising in tone. “What’s with you and fucking Femroids?”
“Hey, they came onto me!” Trevor explained. “Besides, I didn’t even look like this. I integrated as one of the Femroids, so they thought I was one of them.”
“So you became a female to have sex with them?” Cosma’s disapproving expression was plain to see. “Do you realize you have made this operation riskier? What can these Femroids do now?”
Trevor wiped the dull look from his face and raised the WIMP gun in his hand like a secret agent would right before their moment of truth. He was emulating what he knew Cosma was, a feral warrior, ready to kick ass!
“Let’s unleash the WIMP on them!” he said. He counted his breaths and then pushed past Cosma.
“Go get em’, tiger,” she said.
He rolled out into the hallway just in front the Femroids that were marching their way to them. They stopped in place, cocked their heads to the side, and scanned the situation.
Trevor continued the song. “Carry moonbeams home in a jar.”
He stood tall, aiming the gun straight at their nether regions, never taking his eyes off them. He couldn’t help but look at each one of their sweet faces. Their resemblance to him was eerie, but he shook the moment and remained on course.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Trevor closed his eyes, pulled the trigger, and sprayed the room in blasts. Every shot ricocheted off them.
Trevor turned to Cosma in fear.
The Phantom Femroids took evasive action. One began to phase into the floor, disappearing from sight. Trevor about shit his pants when she did that. Another stuck her hand into the wall, integrating with the material and ripping it out. She now had concrete to clobber him with.
He eased back slowly with a smile. “Now, children you wouldn’t hit your old man, would ya?”
“Our mother, Ms. BS, told us you would be coming,” one Phantom Femroid said.
“Hit them in the soft spot!” Cosma yelled out.
Trevor lowered his gun. The thought of aiming at the lower regions… it was egregious, but necessary to complete the mission. He fired the WIMP gun again.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The Phantom Femroids fell to the ground
, ecstatic, pleasure clear on their faces. Their moans were undeniable, and Trevor quickly looked away in disgust — these were his relatives.
Cosma came out with her gun, looking at Trevor in confusion.
“Nice shot,” she said with a nod. “Is that normal?”
“I don’t know,” Trevor said, gritting his teeth, but he was happy to impress Cosma. “Should we make it stop?”
The moans had died down, and the Femroids were now in a state of mental anguish. What sounded like laughs had quickly turned into cries of sadness. Trevor turned around, not understanding the responses. He looked at the gun in surprise.
“What does this thing do?” he asked.
Finally, as the cries grew louder, each Femroid began screaming in terror. One by one, they grabbed their stomachs, and their heads popped off like champagne corks from a bottle. Acidic secretion began to ooze from their neck onto the floor, leaving slick puddles.
Trevor stepped closer to the ooze, sticking his boot into it and testing the viscosity. He quickly slipped and fell on his back, landing in it. He rolled spastically until he was able to get his feet under him. When he arose, Cosma looked at his suit, covered in the slippery liquid. Trevor was wild-eyed in shock.
“You okay?” Cosma asked him.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He blushed, his blue skin turning a bold purple.
Cosma grimaced in disgust and lowered her eyes to his nether regions with a scornful look, continuing to sing the song.
”And be better off than you are?”
Cosma and Trevor inched their way further into the lair. As they got closer, shouts of rage and bickering reverberated up and down the hallways. When they arrived to the familiar circular chamber, Dr. Beta, Ms. Joy and Lavarkmird were standing together, devising their next move. Next to them stood another Femroid with skin like Trevor’s.
“Where is he?” Dr. Beta yelled, looking at the new addition to the crew. “Goddammit, Ms. BS, I want him found.”
