Bob’s Memoir: 4,000 Years as a Free Demon
64
The Search
“YOU SHOWED HIM my naked body?” Sally screamed at me when I told the tale of the wicked sorcerer.
“I didn’t want to ruin your clothes when I transformed,” I explained.
“Ha! Who needs clothes in Areola?” she asked, then spluttered in laughter. Indeed, she was sitting in front of me with nothing on but a smile.
“Well, I’m afraid that if you’d gone there yourself, he’d have done much more than see your body. His thoughts were really quite disgusting. I don’t think there is any part of you he wouldn’t have used. What’s more, by the way your body was responding, you’d have let him and not thought a thing about it until you had left and started feeling guilty and dirty.”
“You could feel what I feel in my body?” she squeaked.
“The transformation spell, when I’m in direct contact with the person I’m mimicking, is very complete. I considered letting him do exactly what he wanted.”
“Gross. You could feel me getting turned on?”
“Yes. And you, too, have a very good smell.”
“Don’t let him tease you too much, Sally,” Josie said as she sat with us. “One day you should have him transform both of you and you can make love to you as if you were him. Did I say that right?”
“Never mind,” I said. “No one said anything about Sally and me having sex.”
“Wait! You don’t want to have sex with me? Was there something so disgusting about my body when you were in it that makes me repugnant?” she asked.
“No. Not at all. We just haven’t discussed that… or even if you will be staying in Areola. Now here’s what he had for you,” I said, changing the subject. I presented the old manuscript to her. Nimia leaned toward her to look at it as well.
“This is… in a foreign language,” Sally said. “How would I have gotten turned on by that?”
“I can translate for you,” Nimia said as she began reading from the page. I could visibly see the change coming over Sally. Her nipples hardened, a flush spread across her face and chest and her breathing sped up. And there was a delicate aroma of an aroused woman emanating from beneath the table.
“Um… Nimia, I’m not, like, into girls, but if you want me to eat you while you read, I’ll figure it out. My god! I do have a scent!”
“Told you,” I said. “Now, about your stay in Areola.”
Nimia closed the book so Sally would pay attention to me.
“A different dimension,” she whispered. “It doesn’t feel any different.”
“We need to figure out if you are a temporary resident or permanent. I’m not saying you need to decide this instant, but I’m not willing to show you any more of Areola if you are going back to the natural world and leaving us. You have your life ahead of you in the natural world and could write your thesis. I’d even give you an exact duplicate of this book. It might take a while for you to get it translated, but you would have source material.”
“I could go back to what you call the natural world and be considered a crackpot and lunatic. I’d be ridiculed in every academic institution in the world and would end up stacking panties at Walmart. No thanks. I want to stay here. I would like to send a message to my parents to let them know that I’m safe but not coming back.”
“Many of us have had to keep in touch with our families back home for a while. I popped in occasionally until my parents died and I still get trundled out to do presentations occasionally. They make me look like an old woman, though,” Liz said.
“Wait! You’re that Liz?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Please, Bob. Let me stay in Areola. Let me be… one of your concubines. Have sex with me. Make love to me. And let me study the nature of alternate dimensions from inside one.”
I smiled at her. What could be better?
Being chased around in a game was not the first time I’d been chased. Might have been the most fun, though. And Sally proved to be both an enthusiastic lover and a great researcher. What I know about the infinity room now, I mostly learned from her.
Let me explain.
Assertions, denials, speculation, diversion. Conflict, rebellion, revolution. It’s all about libraries.
I know that comes out of the blue—doesn’t everything?—but it’s important.
I’ve been fascinated by books and scrolls since the day I came into existence. I found half a dozen scrolls in Pinaruti’s magic room and read them repeatedly. Whenever I could gain a scroll or book, I did. I imported massive libraries and, when possible, librarians into the infinity room where we recreated both the volumes and the surroundings. Then Marian, our modern-day librarian, began the process of collecting all the digital media she could find, including papers, magazines, books, movies, and websites. Our scientists found a way to power readers for that information. It’s all quite remarkable.
But one thing the best libraries have always been is ‘public.’ Any individual can gain access to the words in a library. And perhaps our library contains more dangerous words than any other library that has ever existed. It has never been restricted. And so, when a person chooses to study a subject in depth and learn all he or she can learn about it, they are free to do so, and our staff of librarians, who probably know more about what is in the library than any other human could possibly know, will help direct that curious individual to the books that will impart that knowledge.
Including magic.
I had always considered magicians to be a part of my world. I had never consciously imported a magus to the infinity room, but the knowledge was there in our library should anyone choose to learn it and have the talent to apply to it. Oh, and understand the language it was written in. You see, magic is much like—oh, say basketball. You can read everything about it; you can understand every technique and strategy. But if you don’t have a talent for it—the physical strength and coordination—you still can’t hit the basket. Certainly, with more practice, you will become better at it. But practice and knowledge alone will not make you a great basketball player. The same is true of magic.
I, being a magical creature, have a gift for magic, and still, I have as many spells that go afoul as that are successful. Witness poor Chione, bless her. She has not said a word since the day I thought I was casting a spell to keep her from talking about the infinity room. She certainly never has.
The talent, knowledge, and practice to become a truly powerful mage is a rare thing—especially when there are no experienced magi to learn from. But just because the odds are one in a billion, doesn’t mean that one of ten million won’t possess it.
Sally was a mage.
And when Nimia read and translated the ancient words to her, they always ended up in bed together. Sally came to us an exclusive heterosexual and progressed to being not quite so exclusive. But no one pushes her. She just gets involved and can’t help herself.
Eventually, I did swap bodies with her so she could experience what it was like for a man to make love to a woman. I’d have to say she was far more enthusiastic about loving either sex after that.
So, back to the more or less present. I was getting ready for my second foray into the natural world in search of a future crewmate. That’s what this was all about, right? We had agreed that I needed a little more flexibility. Living and working with the original crew contestants had been a growing experience, and it took us weeks to develop the relationship that turned them into such a tight and cohesive team. It didn’t seem that three days was enough to make a positive decision. For example, I’d have left it up to the other crew members to decide between Sue and Amy. Instead, I happened to find Annie. I needed an out.
I figured that some of the women I would meet would be eliminated from consideration immediately, but that others might need more time to grow on me. I would no longer be limited to making a choice among three, but would continue to travel and interview and repeat visits to some before I chose one. That would be good, but I wanted to spend some time getting to really know Annie better before I went out again. We stayed in the beach house—well, the satchel stayed in the beach house. Annie and I stayed in Areola most of the time, though I emerged each day to make sure the guards were changed and everything in the natural world was okay.
After a week that we lightly called a honeymoon time, I was surprised it was Annie who told me I needed to get some more footage in the can.
“Bob, we have a mission and getting more people for the crew is necessary for the television series,” she said. “You need to get out there and hunt down some more women. And maybe even some men.”
“Are you tired of me already, honey?” I teased. We’d made love every day and I’d taken her exploring in some of the less accessible areas of Areola.
“You know better than that, Bob. But I’m a member of the crew now and we’ve been meeting about the second season. You need to be out there.”
“Yes, you’re right, I suppose.”
“Oh, Bob. It would be wonderful to imagine it was only you and me that mattered. But you have five wives, five possessions, eleven other crew members, fifty-two priestesses whom I adore, and at last count there were seventy-three concubines in the harem, but I’m informed that number changes almost daily. And in addition to those, or included in those are other women who have a very special relationship with you.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t be dense, honey. Zhi, your warrior. Marian the Librarian. The little research mage Sally. Social engineer Virginia. Dora, who took you to Troy. Doria, who was part of your spoils of Troy. Chione, from Nebuchadnezzar’s harem. Ali, the former slave in Musa Massa’s court. A whole bunch of priestesses of Aphrodite who say you are their god now. A woman named Srininx who has a bronze colored breast. I could go on and on, and you know it. This world is filled with women who adore you and would open any passage for you. But the crew is still working hard to become the best possible crew to sail your ship into space, and I need to take my place among them. Don’t worry. I’ll always be in line to make love to you when you return.”
Well, she was right and I took the list of women and locations with me as I set out for another trading mission. It would be exciting.
“It’s time for Bob to return to the US,” Doug told me. “You need to make some appearances to announce that you are working on season two of the show, since the ship is not yet ready. There will be questions and maybe some laughter, but you should be able to move around fairly easily. I think you should take Peninnah and Liz and me with you to the mainland. And Avril—to film, you know.”
I knew. Avril and Doug were quite an item. But he was right. As my producer, he should be seen as well. I took the appearance and identity of The Bob and we headed for the airport and our private plane. We still had to go through security and scans, but nothing seemed amiss. We just got on the plane and left for the mainland.
One of the things I stocked up on were satchels. If anyone was thinking they could snatch and grab my portal, they’d need to figure out whose satchel to grab. We all carried one and I didn’t use a look-away spell on any of them.
I saw a great movie about that once. Man in a bowler hat who steals a priceless work of art and suddenly there are several dozen men in bowler hats with a portfolio like his wandering around. Fun movie. We were prepared for something similar. Doug would be my foil. Once we were airborne over the Pacific, I worked the transformation spell that turned him into an image of me and me into him. That way, I could keep hold of the real satchel while he took the heat for possibly carrying around alien portal technology.
When we got to LA, a customs agent boarded the plane and went straight to Doug. After several minutes of arguing, Doug was led to the customs desk with his satchel, while I protested that this wasn’t an international flight and Customs had no right to be inspecting our personal property. You can imagine how far that went with TSA and Border Control.
Doug came out of the terminal looking a little bedraggled, but in good spirits. We picked him up in our limo and drove to the mansion, which had not been in use since the first season selections were made.
“I was really afraid they were going to rip the bag apart at the seams searching for ‘the portal.’ I kept the protests up. Even demanded to speak to my Senator,” Doug said. “I told them I’d left the portal at my palace and didn’t intend to use it anytime soon. They finally gave up and sent me on my way. Oh, the tampons in the bag were a nice touch. I just told them I was carrying some things for my wife.”
We congratulated him on making it through customs and we switched body transformations back to our own likeness in the back of the limo.
When we got to the mansion, I pulled out bug detectors from Areola and we all swept the house. I had Avril check all our camera installations to make sure they were ready to record for the show. Of course, as she was checking, she found one camera that had been tampered with to send its signal to a receiver off-site. She also found two other cameras that were not part of our setup. They’d been in the mansion in my absence.
We neutralized all the bugs we found and set all our own cameras to play an endless loop of the rooms. That was the best we could do for now.
Doug and I had meetings and interviews for the next few days.
I’m afraid it was not to be a time of peace and quiet. I expected to need to work, but I wasn’t quite expecting the crowds that followed me around everywhere. Most of the time they were peaceful and friendly. Occasionally, there was a mob of protesters against our show, against leaving earth, against sex, against science, against the government, against the church, against taxes, against medicine, against vaccines, against women… It seemed there was a crowd against just about everything. There was even a crowd against natural grains and whole food. Somehow, they all figured I was the right place to protest.
On the other hand, there were crowds—mostly women, though not exclusively—who cheered and held signs that said “Pick me!” “I’ll boldly go!” “Let me port with you!” “Official Space Cadet.” I’m not sure that last woman understood what her sign said. Which was appropriate. And, within the crowds both for and against, I could see hundreds of Bob Satchels. They’d become quite the fashion accessory and even high school students carried them.
“Tell us about your new show,” Elaine Frost, the newest host on a late-night television show asked.
“Well, it’s season two of To Boldly Go. But we kind of shot our wad on the first season because we thought we’d be leaving earth at the end of the season and would be sending season two back from space. So, we’ve had to change our format considerably. I’m going out to personally interview contestants,” I said.
“How many contestants are we talking about this year?” Elaine asked.
“This is unbelievable, but we’ve received 30,000-plus applications to be on the show. I’m sorry to say that for many reasons, the vast majority were unacceptable. But the crew selected in the last show, along with my family, have reviewed over 5,000 and have sent out letters of commitment. We have received some 2,000 responses with signed consent forms and releases to use footage we shoot of them candidly on the show.”
“You can’t mean to say you’ll be ‘interviewing’ all 2,000!”
“I doubt it. That would probably take us into season five, at least, and I hope to be long gone before then. I’m sorry to say that I’ll get as far as I get. I can’t hope for more than that,” I said.
“So, it seems like doing a personal interview would be a good way to get a lot of innocent women into bed with you,” Elaine said skeptically.
“Well, it would be if I was recognizable. But I’m pretty good at changing my appearance.”
“You mean makeup and such?”
“Oh, sure. But do you remember that movie a few years ago where the guy put on a mask and suddenly had a rubber face?”
“It’s hard to do special effects when you’re live.”
“Yes, but that actor reduced the number of special effects that were needed. He has a rubber face. A couple of adjustments and he’s a different person. I have the ability to do some of that, too. Then with a little makeup, I’m someone totally different.”
“I’ve got to see this. Audience, would you like to see Bob demonstrate?” Loud applause indicated their answer.
Elaine looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I suppose she expected me to make a funny face at her. Instead, I started doing facial expression stretches—yawning, raising and lowering my eyebrows, squinting and popping my eyes open, and shifting my jaw from side to side and in and out. While I was doing the exercises, I worked a few magical transformations on my face, careful not to go overboard. I pushed and pulled at my face, and covered it with my hands.
“I hope this worked,” I said with my face covered. “I usually work in front of a mirror.”
“You mean all those funny faces you were making were your disguise?”
“No, this is.” I uncovered my face and the audience gasped. I hadn’t gone overboard, but I was more square-jawed, my nose was narrower, my mouth a little smaller, and my eyebrows closer together. I looked like a different person.
“Whoa! Where did Bob go and who are you?” Elaine said.
“I call this one Dean Larson,” I said. “Add a blond wig and I’m good to go.”
“Cameras, can we get a split screen with one of our earlier shots of Bob and what he looks like now?” Elaine asked. The audience saw a big screen with the two Bobs side-by-side. When you looked closely, you could tell we were the same person and looked like there had just been some really good makeup applied. The audience applauded.
“How do you do that?”
“There are forty-three muscles in the human face. The real trick is to be able to isolate and flex each of them independently.”
“I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“This is a little difficult to hold,” I said. “Can I go back to myself again?”
“Uh… sure. Does it take all the same gyrations?” Elaine asked.
“No.” I shook my head violently back and forth, making a noise like I was spluttering. When I stopped, I had returned to my normal look.
“That was truly amazing. If you hadn’t been sitting right beside me, I wouldn’t have believed it.” She paused for more applause. “So, you’ll be in disguise and supposedly the women won’t know who you are. Anything you’d like to tell them?”
“Yes. A couple of things. First of all, I will never, ever force myself on a woman. Don’t feel like you have to accept every overture from every man because he might be Bob. That’s not what I’m judging my interviewees on. It’s all going to be based on how good our chemistry is with each other. If you didn’t reply with a consent form and release, I won’t be approaching you at all. Second, not every man who approaches you will be Bob in disguise. Exercise normal precautions that you’d use upon meeting any guy who sparks an interest in you. Third, I will not try to lure you into an unmarked van on the street. There are very real traffickers out there and until we get to know each other, you should exercise good dating protocol, including letting a friend know where you are, staying in well-lit public places, and keeping information about yourself confidential. I don’t need your social security number, driver’s license, or bank account. I already have that because it was on the application form. Don’t give it out freely.”
“That’s really good general dating advice, Bob,” Elaine said. “I see our time is about up. Is there anything you’d like to add?”
“Yes. This is to the men who think this is an opportunity to exercise predatory behavior, or want to pretend they are Bob and see where it gets them. I spent $100 billion last year on the show and on spacecraft development. My investments are growing so fast that I still have over $500 billion. That’s $500 billion I can spend to chase down and eliminate traffickers and predators who think they can cash in on a woman’s desire to be on my show. $500 billion I can use to prosecute frauds and impersonators. $500 billion that I can use to track you down to the ends of the earth and make sure you never hurt another person again. Beware. You’ve been warned.”
I delivered that line standing and staring straight into the camera. There was stunned silence on the set for a moment and then a standing ovation from the live audience. I waved at them and left the stage.
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
