Transformations: Latigo Ey

Transformations: Latigo Key

By Wayne and Ann Triskelion

Playlist

For Transformations: Latigo Key

"Hey Nineteen" Steely Dan

"Wish I Knew You" The Revivalists

"Beautiful People" Thomas Bergersen

"Break In" Halestorm (feat. Amy Lee)

"Dance Macabre" Ghost

"Baby I'm-a Want You" Bread

"In The End" Black Veil Brides

"All The Kings" Editors

"The Drug In Me Is Reimagined" Falling in Reverse

"Ever Since The World Began" Tommy Shaw

"Life Eternal" Ghost

"The Little Things" Toto

"His Brightest Star Was You" Two Steps From Hell

"In Spite Of Everything" Takida

"Vox Populi" Thirty Seconds to Mars

"

Amore Sitis Uniti

"

Latigo Key, Florida

1980

William James Wanker, Jr. struggled to keep hold of the slimy, struggling Mahi as he pried the hook from its lip with pliers. "Hold still, ya fucker," he said out loud. He was alone on his fishing boat and it rocked gently side to side in the bright Florida sun.

'Wink's Folly' he had named her - nobody called him 'William' or 'Junior' and nobody sure as hell called him 'Wanker' unless they wanted to eat their own teeth.

And Willy was his son's name.

Everybody called William James Wanker, Jr. 'Wink' because his left eye didn't open as wide as the right.

Sort of like Popeye, which he felt was fitting for a fisherman and sailor.

Wink pulled the hook free and tossed the doomed Mahi Mahi into the hold with his Mahi kin and a half-dozen Blackfin Tuna.

Not bad for a morning's work. A quick run to Key West and he'd have cash in hand selling to the tourist trap restaurants.

Steely Dan started singing 'Hey Nineteen' over the boat's AM radio and Wink hummed along.

It was a good haul. Keep him on track for the boat payment. Buy some groceries. Get him and Margaret a couple of beers at the Pelican.

Turning out to be a good day.

He pulled up the anchor and put his hand on the throttle.

Then he saw the man walking on the water.

Twenty degrees off the port bow and about a quarter mile out.

A naked man walking on the water.

Wink wasn't even slightly religious, but he was aware Jesus Christ was the only recorded individual capable of that feat. However, the man who walked slowly toward shore had wild looking black hair and a beard - a few shades darker than the illustrations he had seen of Jesus. Also, Jesus was usually wearing at least a bedsheet - this guy was buck assed naked.

He was also pretty sure Jesus didn't have a dingus that hung down past his knees.

Nor would Jesus Christ be carrying an equally naked brunette with a rack to put Jayne Mansfield to shame. She was just sitting on his right shoulder like a kinky parrot as the man walked over swells and down again, his feet never sinking beneath the surface.

They passed by 'Wink's Folly' without a glance from the man who walked on the water.

However, the woman stared at him with eyes as black as coal, not a hint of white around her irises at all.

Wink shivered in the hot sun.

"Forget," the man said as he walked past the stern. "Go and sell your fish, William Wanker, and forget."

Wink almost passed out. He turned away. He put one hand on the ship's wheel and the other on the throttle. Had something happened? He couldn't remember.

He pushed the throttle, steered for Key West, and did not look back.

***

Morpheus stepped from the surf onto the warm sand of Latigo Key's southern beach. He lowered the former Catholic nun he had named Sister gently down to the golden sand.

She dropped to her knees and began kissing his feet. "You are God. Say it. Tell me, please. Tell me you are God. You walked on the surface of the sea. Only God can do that..."

"Foolish woman. I don't even know if there is a God. But I suppose I am

your

god," he said and reached down to stroke her long, dark hair. "Stand, Sister. I have things to show you and tell you. I need you on eye level for that."

She stood and he smiled at her.

Her mind was an open book to him. He could read every thought, every memory. She wanted to worship him. She wanted him to fuck her. She was in love with him.

"Where have you brought me, Master?" She asked.

"This is Latigo Key off the coast of Florida. This is where it starts."

She smiled. "This is where the liberation of Cuba begins?"

Morpheus frowned. "No, Sister. This is where the conquest of humanity begins."

She blinked. "But... I thought... the Communists. Aren't you going to destroy them and free my island?"

He shook his head. "I no longer concern myself with Communists or Fascists, Democrats or Republicans, Labor or Tory. They're all apes screaming at one another from the tree tops. Homo Sapiens is a dead end. I am making a new species." He stroked her face gently. "You know this."

"But... the people of Cuba are suffering, Master."

Morpheus laughed. "They are meant to suffer. It's of no concern to me. We will save them by transforming them. We will save the entire world by transforming everyone in it. One day you will build my church in Havana, Sister, and there will be no more Castros." He spread out his arms. "But this is where the future begins."

People began walking onto the beach, pulling off their clothes as they approached Morpheus and Sister.

Within moments she and Morpheus were surrounded by at least a thousand people.

A woman dropped to her knees and began licking Morpheus's cock.

"They are works in progress," Morpheus whispered. "They aren't even aware any of this is happening." He pulled the blonde woman closer and held his cock head to her lips. He masturbated slowly and his precum began to flow into the blonde's mouth.

She cried out and began to convulse from her orgasm.

Another woman embraced her and pressed her lips to the blonde's, tasting Morpheus's juices and then she too began to scream as she came.

"I sent one of my acolytes here to oversee the beginning of the experiment. In nine years time, the fruit of this island will be ready to harvest. You will harvest it, Sister. The transformed will rise and you will lead the Church of their new, living god."

Sister smiled as the denizens of Latigo Key coupled naked on the sand, an orgy of more than a thousand puppets dancing on Morpheus's invisible strings.

***

West Point, NY

February 1984

Helen Turner sat quietly in Colonel Ari Jacobs's comfortable chair in his cozy living room. A fire roared in the oversized fireplace and the room was warm and filled with the fragrance of burning oak mixed with Colonel Jacobs's pipe tobacco - a pipe he never smoked when Cadet Turner visited, though he had been known to share a finger of Scotch with her from time to time.

The mantle was filled with pictures of the old man when he was a young man. Black and white pictures of him in his World War II uniform standing beside General Omar Bradley, Patton, Eisenhower - he had known them all. She had no doubt that many of Bradley's best decisions were influenced by Colonel Ari Jacobs.

He had always been slight of build but sharp of mind and now, nearly thirty years after he had helped destroy a monster that had almost eaten Europe, he was reading her paper on the Axis Mistakes During the Ardennes Campaign.

No pressure on a fourth year cadet in the first class of women to graduate West Point.

"You're staring. Stop staring. Staring makes me read slower," he said from his own comfortable chair.

"Sorry, Colonel," Helen said.

"How many times do I have to tell you: in this room, I am not Colonel, and you are not Cadet. I am Ari, you are Helen, like civilized people," he said with a sly smile on his bluish lips.

Like equals

, she thought. He wants me to know he considers me his equal.

And her heart swelled with pride.

He flipped over the last page of her report. He closed his eyes. He nodded. "These figures, you double-checked them with the actual Wehrmacht records?"

"Yes, sir... Ari... sorry."

That sly smile again. "Whew. It was that close. If they had made just the changes you recommend, they would have succeeded, driven us all the way back to the sea. Of course, it's different in the fog of war. Easy to play armchair quarterback forty years later..."

"Oh, no, sir. I made sure to limit my knowledge to what the Wehrmacht knew that winter. If they had simply seen clearer and reasoned it out..." She stopped.

He was smiling ear to ear. He had set a trap for her logic, and she had been ready for it.

Helen blushed. "So... what do you think of my analysis?"

"What do I think?" He shook his head. "I think... I am very glad we were going up against those morons and not you, that's what I think."

Helen laughed.

He took a deep breath. "Twenty-five years I've been teaching at West Point, you are the most brilliant strategist I've ever taught."

She blushed again.

"No, no. Do not hide. You are brilliant, Helen Turner. A military mind like yours is once in a generation, once in a century." He smiled and then it faltered. He looked away.

Helen nodded slowly. "Not going to do me much good, is it?"

The old man deflated in his chair.

Helen stood up and stretched. She was tall and lean, ramrod straight. "They will never accept me, will they?"

"You'll be a major within a year. A colonel in five," Ari said.

"And not one inch farther." She shook her head. "You know what they want me to do? They want me to go on a tour of the country, making speeches about the new Army. How women are treated equally. What a joke."

"There is academia. I have spoken to my department. You can teach strategy..."

"No offense, Colonel, but I... want to lead."

"I know, Helen. I know that... feeling too well." He chuckled. "As a Jew, I couldn't even get in West Point in the 1930s. I was fortunate General Bradley recognized my potential."

"Fortunate?! You should have stars on your uniform..."

"Pfhht - stars, eagles, none of that matters."

She sat back down and leaned forward. "But it should be what matters. People should be judged on their abilities, not their religion or skin color or... whether they have a... you know... between their legs."

He smiled at her, a man who believed every word she said, had seen all the wrongs she described, and yet continued to smile. He continued to serve.

"Everything changes, Helen. Things get better. Too slow, yes. Like molasses. You and I were born too soon." He shook his head. "Maybe... we're to pave the way for what will come after us. I hope so."

"Don't you have regrets?"

"Not about my career. I was where I was needed when I was needed the most, Helen. I got to watch those goddamned swastikas crushed into the mud under the treads of our tanks. My ambitions were nothing in comparison to what we accomplished. We saved the world." He shrugged. "Regrets, though? Oh, I have them." He spread out his arms. "You see this house?"

"It's beautiful."

He shook his head. "Empty. This house is empty. An old man and the ghosts of his past are all that live here. So, this, this is my regret: while I was saving the world and focusing on my career? I forgot to live. No wife, no children. Family makes a house a home, Helen."

She looked away. "So, you're saying I should get married and have babies?"

He smiled. "I think we both know that isn't in your future... at least not for some time. More evolution is required of this world."

Startled, she turned to face him.

He waved his hand. "I do not judge you. I would never. I love you as I would my own child. And I could not be prouder of you than I would my own blood."

"How... how did you know?"

"What? You think an old man like me doesn't know of such things? I'm old, not stupid. There is nothing wrong with who you are, Helen. Nothing. All I am saying is: find happiness. Find love. Do not neglect it or you will find yourself old and alone with nothing but ghosts and the dreams of what might have been."

***

Colonel Jacobs watched her trudge out through the snow from his upstairs window. She headed back toward the dorms. "I will never see her again?"

"No," the visitor said. He could see the man's reflection behind him in the glass, tall and rugged looking in his leather jacket. He had come to the house a few hours before Helen with stories about the future. Terrifying stories.

"Did I say the right things?" Colonel Jacobs asked.

"You spoke from your heart. That plants the seed. It's never wrong."

"I can't say I understand any of this. But I do know she is destined to do great things."

"I think you might be right."

"I will miss her. Just, I need to know: how are you doing this?"

"Sometimes I bend time. Tonight, I bent it for you. Thank you for your service, sir. Both tonight and before. You may have helped save the world twice, Ari Jacobs. There's not much recognition in that, I suppose. But you have my gratitude."

Ari nodded.

When he turned, the man in the leather jacket was gone.

***

Helen wanted to scream into the bitter cold air, let her words turn to ice and fall crashing to the ground in front of her. This was her country, and it was in danger - the Russians and Chinese, the Cubans, other dangers in the Middle East. All she wanted to do was use her skills to make it safe.

She was the best person to lead. No less than the man she considered to be the greatest military mind of the last fifty years agreed with her.

But because she had a pussy instead of a cock? She was never going to be anything more than a cheerleader.

She would never be the quarterback.

Just outside the dorm, she passed by a first year cadet passed out in the snow.

"Fuck's sake," Helen said, and she nudged him with her boot. "Cadet? You picked a stupid place to pass out drunk."

He didn't move.

She knelt down and felt for his pulse.

Alive, at least. She nudged him again. "Hey, asshole. Wake up."

Still nothing.

He had at least fifty pounds on her.

She grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him along the frozen ground and up the steps into the dorm. "Well, fatso, I hope you appreciate the fact I didn't let you freeze to death." Helen held the door open with one foot as she yanked him the rest of the way into the foyer and the hallway beyond.

It was warm here and she propped him against a wall.

Funny, she couldn't smell booze on him. He must have been drinking vodka. She brushed a lock of black hair away from his eyes.

Cute, if you were into such things.

She wasn't. She walked away toward the stairs.

Being a woman at West Point meant she had two strikes against her.

Had anyone found out she also played for the other team? Strike three and you're out... of West Point probably and she could definitely kiss her Army commission goodbye.

Her life was going to be lonely.

Two more freshmen were passed out by the stairs.

"Must have been one hell of a party," she mumbled as she climbed the stairs to the third floor.

She pushed open the stairwell door.

The door to her room was open and light leaked out into the darkened hallway.

Her roommate, Brigitte, usually kept the door closed.

She walked in and stopped cold.

A tall, bald man in a black suit was staring at her.

"Who are you?" Helen asked. She looked past him.

Brigitte was asleep on her bed wearing nothing but a pair of white cotton panties.

"Brigitte?"

"Calm yourself. Your friend is unharmed," a woman said.

Helen turned to her right.

There was a woman wearing a nun's outfit sitting at Helen's small desk. She was only wearing the robes, her head was bare and her long, brown hair cascaded down her shoulders.

A silver brooch containing an inverted pentagram hung where her cross should have been.

And she was wearing sunglasses.

The woman held up a copy of Helen's paper on the Ardennes conflict. "I'm afraid this is beyond me - complex analysis of supply chains, battle readiness... it's clearly a work of genius but I'm more of a tactician than a strategist."

Helen looked back and forth between the man in black and the nun. "Who are you people?!"

"Leave us, Agent," the nun said.

The man in black stared at the nun.

The nun waved her hand. "I doubt I am in any danger."

The man bowed slightly and walked past Helen and into the hallway. He closed the door behind him.

Helen rushed over to Brigitte and pulled the blanket up to cover her nakedness.

The nun smiled. "How gallant."

Helen turned. "I'm losing my patience, lady. Who are you people?"

"I am called Sister."

"Sister what?"

The woman shook her head. "My god simply named me Sister." She stood up.

Helen took a step back.

The woman was over six feet tall.

She smiled down at Helen. "Ahh, you like tall women, I see? Your heart is racing."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You like women. Especially tall, dark women. One of us will be your downfall, I fear."

"How do you know...?"

"That you're a lesbian?" Sister laughed softly. "Oh, Helen Turner there is very little I don't know about you. High school Valedictorian, in the first class of women admitted to West Point - top of your class here. Did you know you are the top student in the senior class?"

"No, I'm not. I'm in the top ten..."

"No, Helen, they are doctoring grades and moving male students ahead of you. They are embarrassed by the fact you are outperforming the men."

Helen sat down on the edge of Brigitte's bed. "I thought they might be. I couldn't understand..." She shook her head. "Who the hell are you? Why are you here? Wait, all the students passed out downstairs?"

Sister smiled. "I preferred to visit you incognito. Have no fear, they will awaken in a few hours with no memory of any of this. I have come a long way to meet you, Helen Turner. All the way from Cuba."

"Cuba?!" Helen gritted her teeth. "What the hell does a Communist want to talk to me about?"

Sister's grin faltered. "I am many things, Helen, but I am no Communist. I have dedicated most of my life to fighting Castro and his gang of thugs, first as a Catholic nun and now as a revolutionary. I hate them and one day I will kill them. All of them."

"An admirable goal," Helen said. "Good luck with that. Why do you want to talk to me?"

"I represent a church headquartered presently in the jungle outside Havana. We are planning world domination and we need military expertise."

Helen stared at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. "This is some kind of joke, right? Who put you up to this? I have to tell you this whole... crazy nun Bond villain thing you have going on is pretty impressive but the 'I Wear My Sunglasses At Night' thing just makes you look silly. Seriously, you look like you belong in a Corey Hart video on MTV."

Sister laughed with her. "Oh, these? They were for your benefit." She took the sunglasses off.

Helen gasped and shrank back on the bed.

Sister's eyes were solid black - huge inky black voids that seemed to stare right through her. "I forgot to mention that my god has transformed my body. I am no longer what you would consider human. I am immortal. In a thousand years, ten thousand years, I will be just as you see me now. I am stronger than ten men. I can run faster, jump higher... and with these eyes, Helen, I can see a lonely young woman who wants to be part of something greater than herself. She wants to be recognized for her abilities. She wants to be free to love as she chooses. Why am I here, Helen Turner? I have come here to ask you to help me save the world and maybe, just maybe, I can save you from a mundane life in the process."