Things had finally calmed down, days later after the last Maelstrom "attack," but the days were kept constantly busy. Knowing a full-slate was ahead one morning, I woke up a little earlier than usual, just for the sake of getting some meditation time in. I let myself breathe deeply, cross-legged on the floor, waiting to be submerged in the waters. Before I knew it, familiar currents were carrying me off towards Meredith, who I'd felt was in a similar posture wherever she was. The closer I got, the more aroused I became, besieged with thoughts of her; kissing, teasing, vigorous sex flooded my thoughts along the whole journey, up until the time I arrived in-front of her, naked and deep in concentration.
Our surroundings resembled the top of the clean bed of our motel room, but hazier and less-defined outside of our immediate space, similar to our booth at the diner under cloudy conditions. I would've marveled at how she managed that trick in our other significant place, if it weren't for the invisible sexual energy practically radiating from my body, the kind Meredith managed to absorb, as if the focus of her deep meditation. It wasn't easy for her to maintain simply meditating, feeding on my seduced essence, fighting succubus temptations to push me over and take me. I didn't make it easier, watching her breathe deeply, her toned, feminine muscles, the way her breasts, and especially perky nipples rhythmically rose and fell, the way she couldn't help but bite her lip.
The vicious cycle threatening to cross a tipping point and interrupt our reflective postures surprisingly didn't go any further, a strong intention keeping the urges at bay. The close, meditative proximity made our connection stronger, energies and thoughts circulating between us, sharing feelings, thoughts, and memories. Through accessing information gleamed from my light espionage, Meredith used it to delve deeper into herself, inching closer to something long forgotten. A memory, frozen in-time like an old, faded photo, revealed what looked like a younger, teenage version of Meredith, happy and care-free, surrounded by others who seemed less important. Strong feelings attached to this memory felt she was rediscovering a loved one, an older version that was never in-doubt. I happened to wonder at witnessing this memory why she was given the name Judith, a thought suspended with feeling my crossed legs being pulled at, Meredith pulling me to having her legs wrapped around me. Vigorous lips and hands generously guiding mine to her breasts rewarded me for helping her unlock more of herself.
We held each other tight at some point as I whispered her name into her ear again, happy to have helped rediscover more. A soft touch below the waist made me aware of my straining arousal again. Softness turned to insistence, pushing me past the point of no return, as the other hand playfully pushed me away, off the bed, out of the motel, out of the waters, back to my room at Epsilon, as I came hard all over myself. After mentally screeching her name, the abrupt transition and coming alone irked me a little, but a hot, ghostly kiss on my cheek put a dumb grin on my face, only lightly cursing as I cleaned myself off. I couldn't help but grin wider, feeling my earlobe pulled and a hot whisper,
"Have a fun day, Byron."
***
I underestimated how busy a day it was, as an early meeting with Dr. Parker again was subverted with an anti-Hierarch protest going on at the building we'd met before. His department making his university one of the leading colleges for Hierarch sciences brought all kinds of crazies and bigots around, and that day they were all clustered into one big group. It got bad enough that by the time we arrived, security and local cops were clashing with the demonstrators, and we were advised to meet elsewhere.
Inconspicuously meeting in a conference room in the foreign studies building, Dr. Parker, Mickey, and his other assistants met with McGraw and I. "Forgive the unpleasantries, and the neanderthals outside; it's just in the nature of some to unduly disrupt," Dr. Parker opened the discussion with. "Some people just love stirring shit up," I commented flatly, some of the commotion outside still audible. "Anyway, we should get on with it before they suspend classes today." "Seems like they should've done that already," I briefly glanced at Mickey and his peers, giving Mickey a second-longer look of concern that he brushed off.
"Good works wait for no one," Parker said proudly, making Mickey and someone else roll their eyes at his probably-repeated tenet. "And you don't want to wait for this information. It seems my earlier estimations were on the conservative side; Data from other sources points to Megarchs as a manufactured creation, stemming from a process easier to replicate than we thought."
That made McGraw nearly turn pale. "How easy?"
"Easy as in if this kind of sensitive information gets widespread attention, you'll have organizations with even moderate money and any motive making their own. In our search to understand and find ways of stopping them, we found how recklessly easy it is to make them."
"But if they're easy to make, why aren't we seeing more besides Maelstrom?" I queried, still in stark disbelief of Parker's claim.
"That brings us to the good news; the short life-span of these Megarchs."
That caught and kept my attention rapt.
"While making one is easy, maintaining a powerful, complicated balance like that artificially is something no one has yet to master. By reported estimates, from test tube to a sustained, multi-powered being, no megarch has ever survived outside of a laboratory, maybe with the exception of Maelstrom.
"Maybe?"
"Her creators are either very skilled, or very lucky. And as delicate a balance as it takes, such luck may not last forever."
That last sentence weighed heavy on me, and all the technical explanation beyond that became a blur, concerned more with the emotional factor, the prospect of losing someone I'd grown very attached to, no matter how sudden. Panic nearly set in me as it finally occurred to me that Maelstrom could be just as privy to this information as if she was sitting there with us, but I couldn't feel any indication of her there. Only a tinge of something cold and calculating running up my spine was present, and I couldn't confirm or deny if that was just me.
I tried to stay nonchalant for the rest of the meeting, but Mickey definitely noticed the change in me, and commented on that as he escorted us off-campus after the meeting, out of earshot of McGraw.
"Worried about her?" he asked rather directly.
"More like relieved that I might not have to face her down the line." I tried feigning relief, trying to say the most logical thing. Unfortunately he wasn't buying it.
"What are the odds of Parker being right on this?" was my neutral follow-up.
"Just reading the same data myself...it's most-likely yes. But none of it explains why she has lasted as long as she has. Maybe she's luckier than he thinks."
"Guess we'll see. But I'd rather not see any more megarchs like her while I'm involved."
"She is one of a kind, isn't she?" Mickey let his coy, less-than-subtle question be the last word, concluding his escorting duty around the edge of the main campus. McGraw had been a bit ahead and gotten the car ready to drive back to Epsilon.
"Dr. Kasdien should be happy to hear about this." McGraw commented in the driver's seat.
"You think?"
"A measure of exclusivity in finding out about these megarchs, and his overall love of relevant data, yeah."
"Relevant data?"
"He tends to keep his interests pretty simple, staying laser-focused on a few things and keeping everything else to the side."
"Like emotions and empathy?"
McGraw paused before laughing, as if he had to make sure Kasdien wasn't around to slight him. "He's been that way since I've known him. Great thinking process for a scientist."
"Deficient for a medical doctor," I spoke plainly. "Guess he leaves the bedside manner to you."
"And maybe delivering bad news," he said absently.
