The Story of My Telepathic Life
by Gary LM Martin
Age 30
I had just turned 30. I felt old and adrift.
Much as I liked Mr. Brodsky (and secretly was beginning to enjoy every new and creative way he fantasized about inseminating me), I finally realized that after 8 years of going to a World Government jobs counselor that I had reached a dead end. I had to try something new.
And new in more ways than one. It had been nearly four years since I last had a boyfriend (of sorts), the longest dry spell of my entire life.
Little did I know that this was going to be the most consequential year in my life, both professionally and sexually.
*********
I scrolled through job listings on the holonet while idly eating blueberries. After my experience working for a World Government Food Auditor, I now bought the cheapest brand of everything even if they were made by white people (as they usually were). I ignored more expensive brands that claimed they were made by blacks or women or lesbians realizing it probably was a giant scam. I even grew skeptical about the absorbent power of Cherokee Hair Tampons--if indeed they really were Cherokee Hair Tampons, and not a product of the Territorial State of India, as I suspected--and started buying ordinary Blonde Hair Tampons--and found them just as absorbent, for a third of the price.
I scrolled through the hololistings which appeared in the air above me. One of them caught my eye.
Staffers were needed to help create the Eternal Social Justice Machine.
The Eternal Social Justice Machine? What was that? There was no description, only a comm code to apply.
After my time working for Children Who Matter I had become skeptical about philanthropies, and so put the matter aside.
But over the course of the next week, I found myself thinking again about the Eternal Social Justice Machine. I thought about it when I played nuclear golf by myself at the Malcolm XYZ course in suburban Charlotte; I thought about it when I was making a vegetable stew which had been 92% prepared by white people; I thought about it when I exercised at the gym, pumping the blood rushing Menstrual Cycle while my yoga tights cruelly hugged my large titties and my vag; and I even found myself dreaming about it....
A machine that brought justice...
to everyone
. The thought tantalized me. I don't know why I kept thinking about it, but I did.
Do it, Shelly. Do it, and help the world get Eternal Social Justice
, a small voice whispered to me in the deep of night, so quiet that I wasn't even sure if it were real.
And so, on the morning of the seventh day after I had first seen the advertisement, I searched for it on the holonet again. I felt a momentary panic rising in me as I failed to find the ad. Why should I care about such an insignificant thing? But then I found it, and I felt myself taking a deep sigh of relief.
I called the number on the ad and set up an appointment for later that day. The location was at a warehouse in the industrial part of Charlotte. When I got there I saw that the front part of it had been converted into an office building. What kind of place was this?
When I went inside I saw a beautiful blonde girl sitting at the reception desk. Her hair was radiant and fluffy like cotton candy. She looked a lot like Sandy Colley, who I hadn't thought about in many years.
"Hi, my name is Shelly Diggler. I have an appointment to see Mr...."
"Mr. Serf," said the woman. She gave me a strong smile. "We've been expecting you, Miss Diggler. My name is Sylvie." She extended her hand, and I took it. "Joe will be with you in just a minute."
She spoke into her holocom, giving me periodic looks. There was something very sensual about this woman!
Now, before you think more about it, you're probably wondering if I'm a lesbian or something, because of my experiences with Angelika. And the answer is no, I am
not
a lesbian. I'm simply a heterosexual woman... who had sex repeatedly with Angelika. But I don't find other women attractive, not in the least! I hope that's cleared things up for you,
thank you very much!
Sylvie brought me into a large laboratory. At the center of it was something that looked like a giant black box with a round globe on that that technicians were working on. What in the world is that?
"This, this is the Eternal Justice Machine."
I turned to see a handsome brown haired man, perhaps in his early 30's, looking appraisingly at me. The most amazing thing about him were his piercing green eyes. They seemed to see right through me.
No, that wasn't the most amazing thing. The most amazing thing was that I sensed nothing from him.
Nothing at all.
"I'm Joseph Serf," he said extending a hand.
I stared at him in shock. The only person I couldn't read was my Aunt Tammy. I had never met anyone else like him before.
Mr. Serf had his hand outstretched.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" I shook his hand vigorously. "I'm Diggler, Shelly Diggler."
"Nice to meet you, Diggler Shelly Diggler."
He had such a nice smile!
"Please call me Joe."
"Shell, I mean Shelly. You can call me that," I said. Why was I suddenly having problem speaking?
I couldn't read his mind! I was still trying to process that.
"Behold the Eternal Social Justice Machine, Shelly," said Joe.
I looked up at the giant black box. It must have been two stories tall. "What does it do?"
"Right now, not very much. But when it's done, it will bring Social Justice instantly around the globe."
********
Joe was talking about harmonic signals and physics and the human brain and I didn't understand a word he was saying. There was just something so captivating about his green eyes. Something so exciting about not knowing what he was thinking. Was he thinking about fucking me? Or how big my breasts were? For once, I really wanted to know.
But I had no clue. Nor did I really understand what he was building. "What do you want to hire me for?" I asked. "I'm not a scientist."
"The Eternal Social Justice Machine needs people from all walks of life, Shelly, all kinds of people. Even beautiful blonde women," he smiled at me.
"What... what kind of work would I be doing for it?"
"Whatever is required." Joe smiled at me, and I smiled back. "It's difficult to explain in just a few moments. I could make a better case for working for us over dinner, perhaps."
Joe was smooth! I liked that. He was as smooth as Julian, when I first met him, I think. But although I couldn't read his mind, I didn't get the sense that Joe was a player like Julian. And I was curious to learn more about this Eternal Social Justice Machine. And even more curious to learn more about the man called Joseph Serf. So I agreed to dinner.