Alien Mind Control From Planet P
Chapter 17
By Gary LM Martin
Just one. We only need one.
The Voice had been working on Orson Merrick ever since he had been Infected. But Orson had been unusually resistant.
Merrick was on his way to meet with Casey Alvin, a member of a local resistance group.
We
desperately wanted to infect a member of that group.
"No," said Merrick. "I won't infect her."
You will Infect her. Or we will make you Infect your sister.
No, not Heather!
Yes, Heather.
Merrick licked his lips desperately. "You'll be satisfied with only Casey? You won't Infect the rest of the group?"
We only want eyes and ears in the group. We only need one. The rest of the group will not be Infected.
"I have your promise on that?"
Yes.
"All right, then."
Merrick went to his rendezvous with Casey. She was a beautiful, young brunette in her 20's. He personally found her quite attractive. That would make what he was about to do both harder, and easier.
Casey smiled and hugged him when she saw him. She trusted Merrick. He had been feeding her group information for weeks now. But now he was about to feed her something of an altogether different kind.
They were in abandoned room in a wreck of an old apartment building. The floor was hard and dusty, but would serve.
"So what do you have for me today?" Casey smiled, unaware of the peril presented by her question.
Infect! Touch her hands!
"I have some information about a Hunter trap being set in McLean," said Merrick.
Infect the female now!
"What's happening?"
"The police will be setting up traffic stops on all the main roads to search for Uninfecteds," said Merrick.
Begin touching the female now!
Suddenly Merrick felt a great sexual desire within him. Images of him making love to Casey filled his mind, of both of them, nude, with Merrick on top of her, filling her young body with his delightful hardness. He felt the sudden strong urge to take her, right then and there.
"When is this happening?" Casey asked, still unaware of her danger.
The Voice fed Merrick images of himself thrusting in her, watching her face groan with pleasure as he took her, feeling the tightness of her vagina around his rock hard penis.
Merrick, sexually inflamed, finally couldn't take any more, and moved his hand-
Yes, yes, touch the female!
-and pulled a datapad out of his pocket. "Here's all the information you need on the locations of the roadblocks," said Merrick. "Dates, times, places."
Touch her now, or we will make you Infect your sister!
"Thank you!" said Casey, so grateful. "There's just one thing I want to ask you."
This is your final chance! Your sister is next!
Merrick looked at Casey inquiringly.
She said, "Well, it's just that... you work in the Department of Hunters, right? Don't they realize you're uninfected?"
Merrick simply smiled, patted her on her shoulder, a clothed part of her shoulder, and said, "See you next time."
As he left, the Voice raged at him.
Your sister will be taken. Painfully. Your 19 year old sister. You will do it, or you will be made to watch others do it!
And then Merrick, seeing Casey leaving in the distance, laughed.
"I know you took Heather two months ago," said Merrick. "You didn't think I knew that, did you? What are you going to do, Infect her a second time?"
Suddenly Merrick felt the sexual urges within him double in strength.
Infect! Infect!
But Merrick only smiled. "Thanks. That feels good." The sexual urges he was feeling was only a fraction of what other Infected could be made to feel. It was like a mild stimulant, like the one got watching an attractive newscaster.
Merrick returned to the office as the Voice continued to rage. He simply ignored it.
Orson Merrick had been infected through the NR-1 vaccine. A bad batch of the NR-1 vaccine, or depending on your perspective, a less-bad batch of the vaccine. It had been a less potent version produced by a production error which didn't allow the virus to mature as much as it should have before being Serumized.
So Orson Merrick had been Infected, and he could hear the Voice, but all the Voice could truly do was to
offer suggestions
. Suggestions Orson Merrick was perfectly free to ignore. Which he did.
In a sense, instead of Orson being trapped inside his head with the virus in control, the virus was trapped inside his head with Orson in control. And the virus didn't like it one bit. It had no way of communicating its plight to others. All it could do was plead with Orson to call for help. Which, of course, Orson had no intention of doing.
His immediate boss, Samantha Strivers, greeted him when he entered the office. The DC branch of the Bureau of Hunters was a busy place.
"The boss wants to see you, Orson," said Strivers. The boss. That meant Samantha's boss. That might mean trouble. Had he been discovered?
She knows about you. You are going to be Reinfected.
"Sure thing. Sam," said Orson. He went upstairs to the Director's office.
Everyone was
terrified
of the new Director. It was said she had a sky-high ESPer rating, and was supposed to be able to read people's minds. She was a very sexy woman in her mid 30's. She had a gorgeous body and flaunted it. She wore a silky open shirt which showed off her gorgeous breasts, short skirts, dark pantyhose and high heels. It was said that a mere glance from those sultry dark eyes could give a man an instant erection.
And her name was Gretchen McCallister.
As Orson entered her office, he saw Gretchen, dressed silver satin blouse and a short skirt, standing with her legs spread apart as she read a datapad. The sunlight illuminated her legs through her skirt. Orson's pulse jumped as she looked up from her datapad.
"Ah, Orson, good to see you," she said, staring at him with those piercing dark eyes.
Gretchen was
supposed
to be able to read people's minds... and yet she never seemed to know what was going on in Orson's.
"What can I do for you, Ma'am?" He asked politely.
Gretchen's eyebrows arched and she gave a small smile, as if she had just thought of something extremely
interesting
he could do for her. But she only said, "I've been looking at your productivity records. The number of Infections in your section are down 25% this quarter."
She knows. You will be Reinfected
, the voice gloated.
We'll see about that.
"We're a victim of our own success," said Orson, ready with his response. "As we Infect more and more of the remaining stragglers, there are fewer and fewer left to be found."
Gretchen gave him a hard look. "A compelling argument, except for the fact that the other sections don't report a similar drop in new Infections. They don't seem to have any problem finding any of the Uninfected."
"They search for just anyone.
We
look for resistors. They are harder to find." Orson was cool, calm, and collected. He had an answer ready for everything.
You are not fooling her.
Gretchen stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to decide if she believed him. Or perhaps the look from her powerful eyes was a form of interrogation. Gretchen found that long silences often made weaker men confess under her gaze. But after a moment, she only said, "We're running a series of traffic stops in McLean tomorrow. I want you to supervise." She looked at him for any sign of reticence.
"Of course," said Orson. He tried not to smile. They might pick up a handful of Uninfected, but all the key resistance fighters would be far away. And when he announced his failure, he wouldn't be held to blame. How could he? The plan had been Gretchen's, not his.
Gretchen stared at him for a moment longer and gave a frosty smile. "That's all. Thank you."
********
The traffic stops the following day yielded the results Orson expected. Four Uninfected, a pitifully small number for such a massive expenditure of Hunter resources. But he could not be held to blame. How could he?
During a downtime, he contacted Casey, and told her they had to meet.
Casey appeared in the old apartment building. She was wearing a tight shirt that accentuated her large breasts.
Look how luscious they are. Wouldn't you like to squeeze them?
"I have some new information for you," said Orson.
She smiled up at him, even as she caught him staring at her breasts. Casey trusted him.
Imagine yourself sucking on those marvelous teats.
"There's a convoy of components for Unity Towers travelling through Alexandria tomorrow," said Orson.
"Unity Towers?" said Casey, sounding impressed. Destroying Unity Towers had been a top priority of the resistance.
Wouldn't you like to make love to her?
The Voice fed an image of Orson, thrusting inside of Casey's moist, warm vagina. She was so tight, he felt waves of pleasure going up and down his body.
"Yes, Unity Towers," said Orson. He handed her a datapad. "Ambush them at the point indicated here, and they'll never know what hit them."
"Thank you!" said Casey, smiling at him.
Orson imaged himself exploding inside of Casey, filling her body with Infection, and Casey, her body slick with sweat, moaning in pleasure, and also in pain.
We can make this happen. All you need do is-
"You're quite welcome," Orson said politely.
When he returned to the office, Gretchen McCallister wanted to see him. It was about the traffic stops.
"Only four Uninfecteds?" she said. This time she moved around her desk and went behind him. Orson did not dare turn to look at her.