New Horizons

New Horizons

A.J. Roye

All Rights Reserved 2024

Fantasy... noun... The faculty or activity of imaging things, especially things that are impossible or improbable.

Chapter 1

I was drunk.

Drunk with love.

The love, which I held in my arms. Our daughter.

Her sleeping eyes. Her pink skin. Her chubby, newborn cheeks. Pursed lips. Wrapped in a small blanket, and within my loving and caring arms.

I looked up and across the few feet to the bed, where my beautiful wife lay. Her happy, gorgeous smile to me. I could literally see her love for me... surrounding her like a halo.

Beside me, in the large chair where I sit, my son sits to my right. His little hand caressing the blanket covering the legs of his new sister. I could see the wonder in his eyes. And... I wonder... what thoughts are appearing in his tiny thoughts.

"Daddy... May I hold Marie?"

Ah... the sweet voice of my oldest child. I briefly closed my eyes to enjoy her voice. Her words, repeating in my mind. A joy in my life.

"You may, Sarah. And... afterward, allow your sisters and brothers a chance."

Sarah stepped in front of me... bending at the waist and carefully taking her newest sister into her arms. Carefully walking to the other chair in the room and sitting. Her sisters and brothers... following her as though on an invisible leash. The wonder and awe on each of their little faces... welcoming Marie into our family.

I sat next to my wife, while she reclined in her maternity ward bed. Barely an hour since she delivered Marie into the world, she actually looks fantastic. I suppose a mother does, having delivered seven children, plus Marie. A short labor, and just a few pushes, the doctor responded...

"That was impressive."

Rachel is impressive. In all things. Ever since I met her. One of the most well-organized individuals I know. One of the most loving individuals, I know. A fantastic lover. Rachel loves me and all her children.

Impressive.

And... when it comes to organization and leadership, our Sarah takes after her mother. Shepard of her sisters and brothers. Helping with their homework. Reading stories to the small ones. Never a harsh word from her lips toward her siblings. Passing on her skills to her younger siblings. Our home is always in order, thanks to Sarah, and the older children. And...

Brilliant.

Scholastically. Perfect scores in all her studies. Yet... common sense beyond her 12 years.

Over the years, I often wondered... Along with my Rachel... what would happen when our children...

When they became older.

And became independent.

How Rachel and I would address the fact...

Sarah. Michael. James. Rose. Anna. Julie. John... And, Marie...

When...

If...

They find out...

About me.

Chapter 2

It was fuckin' hot in the Gulf.

While on the air-conditioned helicopter, I was grateful to get off that oil rig. Two weeks off and then return to the rig.

The offshore oil rig where I'd been working, since the day after I turned 18.

I had a plan.

Having grown up in an upper middle-class family in The Woodlands, Texas, I was determined, I would make something of myself. Without the help of my parents. My father, the model for my own independent success.

My father... born in a small town in East Texas, worked his ass off in the lumbermill to fund his college education. After graduating from Texas Tech University with degrees in petroleum and mechanical engineering, he soon became an expert in oil exploration and production with a major oil company in Houston.

After 12 years, he left the company to found his own oil and gas consulting business. Traveling the world... advising and directing where to find the oil, and how best to produce it... even working on oil rigs, training workers, and engineers...

On five continents.

Needless to say, my father is world famous for his skills and knowledge. My father, traveling less now... ambitious and bright engineers seek my father out... to work for him. Only the brightest work for him. The others, apply for internships. Which are few.

When I told my father of my plans...

"I suppose I'm not surprised, Steve. You've been the most independent of your brothers. But... I will say... your mother is gonna be pissed, when she finds out you landed a job on an offshore oil rig. And none too happy either, about offshore of Louisiana."

Having a crew change on the oil platform, the helicopter landed at the heliport. As I entered the terminal, a well-dressed man stood and looked right at me. As though he knew me. And, I had never seen him before in my life.

An older man, about my father's age, again... well-dressed in a business suit. Gray hair, blue eyes. A confident and welcoming smile. It crossed my mind how hot and humid it was in Morgan City, Louisiana, and the man was in a business suit. He had to be roasting in his clothes.

As I progressed through the terminal, carrying my duffle bag, the man began walking toward me. Still with his smile. I was racking my brain for any notion of me knowing who this man was. Just a few feet apart...

"Mr. Powers," he began, as I stopped just a few feet away. Immediately... a strong Texas accent. "My name is Jason Wilkes. May I have a few words with you, Sir? I'm here to see you about the prospect of employment."

Mr. Powers?

I suddenly realized I had never been addressed by... "Mr. Powers."

"Well, Mr. Wilkes. I've got a pretty damn good job, now."

"I certainly agree, Sir. $97,000 a year isn't too bad for a 20 year old."

I furled my brow in confusion. How in the hell...

"How do you know that? How do you know I make that kind of money? And... how do you know me? Because, I have no idea why you're here?"

"I'll explain, Mr. Powers," he began. Gesturing to his left... "I have reserved a small conference room, here in the terminal. I'll tell you why I'm here to see you and why the company I represent, is interested in you. I will only take, say... twenty minutes of your time. And afterward, if you're interested, we can discuss your future."

I don't know why, but the guy was persuasive. He came across with confidence, yet an air of... I don't know... Trust?

"OK. But first. Does this job have anything to do with illegal activity? Because, I'm not interested, if it does."

"Absolutely not. The company I represent is completely legal, in all aspects. Again, if you don't mind." He gestured to the end of the terminal.

"OK. Twenty minutes."

As I took my seat at the small conference table...

"Mr. Powers. You have come to the attention of the company I represent. In the next twenty minutes, I'm gonna reveal some information we know about you, and why we are interested in you, in particular. However, some things I will not reveal, at this time, because my client has a very private client base. In order to know more about my client, you will have to commit to coming with me to Houston... after this meeting. To meet the owner."

"OK," I replied. Still tentative in this whole thing. But, he's still got that tone of trust. "I'm really liking the... 'Mr. Powers' thing. But, let's be a little more relaxed about this. Call me, Steve... please. You look about my father's age, so I will still call you, 'Mr. Wilkes.'"

"OK," he replied, with a smile. "First.... you're young and smart. And, in great physical shape." I took note, he had no briefcase,or reference documents. "You were valedictorian of your high school class... 4.0 GPA. You scored a perfect score on the SAT, at age 16. You were an all-state baseball player in high school... three years straight... and led the state in many offensive categories... all three years. You finished high school, one semester early, and went right to work for Louisiana Offshore Services. Your father is a world renowned petroleum engineer. He, also scored a perfect score on the SAT... at 16. Valedictorian. 4.0 GPA. And, finished high school early, and worked in a lumbermill, until enrolling at Texas Tech."

I furled my brow... "How do you know all of this? About me and my father?"

"In the same way law enforcement can investigate, my client has similar means. My client has sources all over the United States, Europe, and Canada. Seeking out potential employees for the sensitive and very private services she provides."

She?... His client is a woman.

"And... your client... she... has an interest in me, because I had a successful high school career? And, because my father has a successful career?"

"That's just the tip of the iceberg, Steve," he replied. He sat back in his chair. "I don't have all the particulars, regarding you, but... I do know. My client wouldn't have sent me here, if she didn't have a great deal of confidence in your potential. She's willing to invest a sizable sum, to determine your value to the firm she runs. Mind, she is very discreet... whom she chooses to work for her. And... I want to add. There is no promise of employment, as a result of this meeting. Only, an offer to you, Mr. Powers... To explore your potential as an employee." He paused... for a microsecond. "My job is to offer you a visit, and interview, with my client. One day. In Houston. Tomorrow. If... at the end of the day, tomorrow... you, or my client, don't feel the opportunity is right, you will be handsomely compensated for your inconvenience, and sent back to Morgan City. And, in addition... I am authorized to offer you $500 cash to come with me to Houston. Right now. I have a private jet just next door to the heliport. Ready to take you to Houston. An overnight stay at the Houston Intercontinental Hotel... all expenses paid. A driver will pick you up for the interview."

I must be stupid. I'm 20 damn years old. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined an offer like this.

"Potential" employment. No mention of the job type. Private. Sensitive. Discreet.

I stood and walked across the room. Peering out the window to see a Cessna take off. I turned to face Mr. Wilkes... while still standing. He, still seated and looking at me with his confident smile.

"No mention of salary potential, Mr. Wilkes. I'm not interested in taking your money, if there isn't any salary potential as an incentive. You see..."

"You're setting aside money to attend the University of Houston." He gave me a cocky, and sly grin.

"Fuck," I slurred. "I have half a mind to accept the offer, just so I can find out how you knew that."

Mr. Wilkes stood from his chair and faced me... "Steve... If my client accepts you as an employee..." He paused. He smiled. "You could make four times your current wages."

I felt my jaw drop and my mouth gape. I swallowed. Hard.

"Did I hear you correctly? Four times what I'm making now?"

"At least. There could be potential for more."

I felt doubt enter my rational brain...

"It's legal?"

"Absolutely."

*****

The next day, I found myself in an office building.

In all places... The Woodlands. My hometown. My parents live just 4 miles from this building.

In a conference room, a woman... Much older than myself walks in...

"Good morning, Mr. Powers," she began. I noticed graying in her dark, curly hair. "My name is Shirlene Irwin. Paralegal. Before anything begins... Legal.... Confidentiality and Non-Disclosure agreements."

"I'm not signing jack crap until my lawyer has a chance to read the documents," I snapped.

Calmly, Ms. Irwin reached toward a phone. Pushed the base toward my area of the table, and...

"Mr. Orowitz is on line two. Waiting to discuss the agreements with you."

"My dad's attorney? What the hell?"

I picked up the handset, pushed line two, and...

"Steve! How you doing, son?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Orowitz. I think. I got myself into..."

"A little over your head. Yeah?"

"Maybe. Seems these people are interested in me. For reasons I don't know yet. I'm told, I will be told."

"Don't worry, Steve. I've read the agreements. They're standard confidentiality and NDA's. Whatever it is they want to discuss with you, if you sign the agreements, you'll be civilly bound by the terms. Monetary damages can occur, if you don't abide by the agreements. The terms... not to discuss the business, or its practices, with anyone, outside of New Horizons, Inc." He paused. I heard him take a breath. "Steve... I called around. There's very little known about this company. The first I heard of them, was yesterday."

"OK."

"Steve... After signing the agreements... If for any reason, you aren't comfortable with their business, and their practices... Tell them you're not interested... get up, and leave. After leaving, you will still be bound to the agreements... forever."

"Yes, Sir."

Mr. Orowitz then offered, he had played golf with my father, just this past Saturday at the club. And, that my mother is as pretty as ever. Which is true. My mother is a hot mom. After hanging up...

I signed the documents.

I was led from the conference room to a waiting area. Where... I could see down a long hallway. I took note... not many employees in the hallway. In fact, I didn't see a single one. Three minutes later...

A woman.

Approaching from the far end of the hallway. As she drew near...

An oriental woman. Wearing a gray sheath dress, hemmed above the knee. Very short sleeves. Stiletto heels so high, they almost classify as a multi-story building. As she drew nearer... my thought was... she's really not that tall if she lost the heels.

Tiny. Petite. Her walk... confidence. Then...

Her smile. Happy. Confident. Her super dark eyes looking right at me. Sexy eyes.

I stood. Offering a smile. But, tentative.

"Mr. Powers. Thank you for coming to see me this morning. My name is Lauren Nguyen."

An absolutely, drop dead, gorgeous Vietnamese-American. With a fuckin' Texas accent! I knew... Texas has a large Vietnamese community within the state... particularly along the Gulf Coast.

Black eyes. Feminine, perfect skin. Her dress exposing her neck and half of her shoulders... Sexy. Her coal black hair in a messy, and very sexy pony tail. Strains of hair caressing her neck, back, and shoulders. And... barely any tits to mention, behind her dress. Fuckin', super-hot woman. A petite woman.

I felt my dick twitch.

I took her petite hand in greeting. Soft. Gentle. A brief handshake.

"Of course. Honestly, Ma'am. I'm... I don't understand all the secrecy. I mean. I'm still trying to wrap this whole thing around my head. Are you sure you have the right... 'Steve Powers?'"

"I am certain. Let's talk in my office... OK?"

Her voice... Petite. A high pitch. Crystal clear words. Texan words. Confidence.

I take a step... beside and slightly behind her, as she leads the way down the hallway. I felt underdressed, as I peered into the all glass-walled offices. I did have a chance to get my best jeans, boots, and shirt before leaving Morgan City.

Ms. Nguyen offered small talk about my travel. The private jet. The hotel where I stayed. And, the ride from the hotel. She has a sexy, petite voice. Cute Texas accent. Damn.

We sat down at a small conference table in her huge ass corner office. Glass walls overlooking the pines and hardwoods of The Woodlands. Through the thick humidity and air pollution, I could see the skyline of downtown Houston... Barely... see the skyline of downtown Houston.

After Ms. Nguyen poured a cold glass of water, for both of us... she sat next to me. If she were any nearer, I would be worried... She might get too cozy.

"Steve. May I call you, 'Steve?'"

"Sure."

She paused. Eyeing me like she was going to attack and fuck me. Damn sexy coal black eyes, behind fabulous facial features.

Exotic looks...

My highest scale, when describing the beauty of a woman. Her petite stature was turning me on. Her partially exposed shoulders... sexy. Yeah... she's exotic.

The pause became... awkward. I was about to break the silence...

"Let me explain, why I asked you here. One... you're smart, bright, and ambitious. A key quality in my selection of potential employees. Two..."

She gave me a sly grin.

"You have insanely hot looks. And that black, wavy, sometimes curly, and long hair is driving me insane." I heard her gasp.

"Thank you."

"My staff... have seen photographs of you. The long hair is... so you. And, makes you so hot. The comments that stand out, from the staff... Hair like Timothée Chalamet. And... A popular Youtube lawyer. Here's a photograph of both."

I blinked. Twice.

"Photographs? Of me?" I briefly looked at both photographs she offered of the two people she mentioned. My hair is thick. It is long, curly, and wavy. Some natural curls. Like Chalamet's. And, the good looking lawyer. Although, his hair is straighter, and slicked back to his shoulders. She didn't mention his name.

"Sweetie," she began. "I can't tell you how I got the photographs of you, and... I can't tell you how I obtained all the information I have about you. It's business confidential. And... I'm sorry I called you, 'Sweetie.' It just... slipped out, Steve. I'm tellin' ya... you're hot."

"OK... so I'm hot," I snapped... Perhaps, a little too hard. My annoyed tone... "What's the deal, here? This is not how I expected a conversation, about a potential job, would begin. I know I sound annoyed, but damn... I haven't a clue as to why I'm here. What I need, Ms. Nguyen, are answers. A description of your business. Something that will keep me from walking out of here in ten seconds."

"Hmm," she hummed, in her throat. A slight smirk in her lips. "A temper. Just as I suspected."

I bit my tongue, at her remark. But, I did hiss in anger... in my thoughts.

"Steve," she continued. "I'm in the business of providing fertility services to couples who cannot have children on their own. The services I provide, are... not medically routine, or medically common. You see..." She paused. Giving me a hard eye. I remained... interested.

"There are couples, for one, or more reasons, who do not want to go through the sterile, and perhaps, impersonable fertility medical procedures, of having children. Some, have moral issues with some of the fertility procedures, particularly with in vitro fertilization. They can't stomach the destruction of the excess, and viable zygotes, which are created during the procedure."

Ms. Nguyen leaned forward... slightly.

"Steve... I do not operate a sperm bank, nor do I operate a human egg bank. I offer... a means to have children, to infertile couples, through the more, traditional means."

Did I just hear that right?

"I recruit men, who have a high potential to father a child. I recruit women, who have a high potential to carry a baby to term. I not only recruit for potential to make babies, I recruit because of desirable characteristics which couples may choose. For example, physical characteristics, that may be similar to a couple. Hair and eye color. Race. Stature. Or, a high aptitude, such as yourself."

My brain was processing every word she spoke. Traditional. Father a child.

I nodded, and...

"OK, just a second. I heard, 'traditional means.' I also heard, 'father a child.' Two plus two equals four, here. Right?"

"Clever way to put it, but yes. I'm recruiting you to father children, Steve. With women, whose partner, for any number of reasons, cannot give them a child. Their partner may have... Sterility. Injury. Deformity. Many others. The couple choose another man to father the child, in the traditional way of fathering children. I offer a list of male employees to choose. The goal... the child, at least has the genetics of the woman. I have lesbian couples also, who desire to raise a family, who contract the services I offer. I also have single women clients, who want children."

I leaned back to briefly absorb what I just heard.

Fuck women to get them pregnant.