Fleetcloud Hippostein felt her long orange hair fluttering in the cold wind as she waited for the train heading to Grand Central Terminal. She was unsure whether it was a compliment directed at her when the man in a thick coat, scarf and navy gloves and a navy fedora said, "Nice tits"; the Tutor Computer had not covered that particular greeting - or was it a reprimand?
On the train she purchased a ticket for the 40-minute journey and was surprised she received back change when paying with a $50 bill but then as an alien she expected to be surprised by many things.
Fleetcloud was on a mission - to find a suitable man to impregnate her. The Statistical Analysis Profiles Computer had chosen Fifth Avenue, New York as the place inhabited by suitable males. She was specifically instructed not to succumb to the sexual advances of predatory females which had rather disappointed Fleetcloud as she'd wanted to have the widest possibly variety of sexual experiences as she planned to write a thesis on Sexual Relationships Pre & Post Ejaculation.
At Mission Control the theatre had been cleared of everyone except Fleetcloud when the 1617 film clips of the ways men had sex were screened, which included sex with other men, with their hand, chickens, fish and horses but women were by far the most popular recipients of men's semen.
Passing the time away in the train Fleetcloud fingered her vagina, still marveling at the sensuous feelings that gave her; she could not understand why the man seated beside her kept sniffing and watched bug-eyed at her probing fingers.
Princess Fleetcloud, from the Planet Owen, 700 miles from Earth, followed the instructions from the Travel and Routes Computer transmitted to the ring through her left nipple and took the exit on to 42nd. She and walked two blocks west to Fifth Avenue where she took a coffee break to merge in with the local population to avoid creating suspicion.
However, despite 7,000 years of technological development on Planet Owen, the scientists had still managed to get it wrong; they designed Fleetcloud to be 6ft 8in tall with orange hair and hanging her breasts on her back, an error corrected only hours before her 700-mile flight to Earth was scheduled to blast off.
The name Fleetcloud Hippostein was computer-generated and was supposed to be an amalgam of all the most popular letters in the names of New Yorkers but reshuffled to provide a name of greatest distinction – which it was, totally. However Fleetcloud already suspected her name was another foul-up as it did not contain the letter 'a'.
The ABC About Sex Computer had instructed her she didn't have to ask any male for sex as all males automatically knew she wanted sex – their only problem was finding out if they were the one, or whether she had a preference for a gang of five or some other excess. She had been advised to go for one-on-one and all she had to do was to stare, wink or purse her lips at her chosen male and he would smile, unzip and begin pulling his penis into full erection as he walked to her to insert it into the orifice she offered – in this instance it must be her vagina.
As she watched the people walking the sidewalks it dawned on Fleetcloud that there had been another computer foul-up – couples were not copulating en-mass; in fact she couldn't see even one couple doing it although some were walking hand-in-hand or arm-in-arm and she did see one man walking slightly ahead of his woman with his hand through the lower part of the woman's dress, which was unbuttoned; she was walking with her head thrown back, eyes closed and a beautiful smile on her face. That look she displayed was pretty amazing. Now the man had withdrawn his fingers and was sucking them, a smile coming to his face. Perhaps he would have the baby?
An unwashed man dressed entirely in black slipped into the seat opposite her and whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "What are you on, baby?"
"Planet Earth," she replied, wondering why it was necessary to whisper.
"I have single pinks five for twenty, double pinks ten for eighty and star-stunners at one hundred each. Whatcha want babe and you can swallow my seven-incher no charge?"
"I'm afraid I can't understand you, Mister. Please speak English or fuck off."
Fleetwood beamed but that disappeared when he scowled and snarled 'Bitch!'
"My Etiquette Instruction Computer advises that is an inappropriate word to call a lady. Apologize or I've been ordered to call the Vice Squad."
Color drained from the unshaven face of the man who turned and fled.
Fleetcloud paid for her coffee with a $100 bill and the waitress looked pained and asked, "Don't you have anything smaller?"
"I can tear it in half if that's any help?"
"Bitch," breathed the waitress, stomping off.
Fleetcloud thought that inappropriate utterance was probably due to someone stressing the woman, so decided to let it go. As she reached the door the 5ft 3in waitress called "Ma'am?" and handed Fleetcloud a heap of money and focused on the coins. The Financial Information Computer urged Fleetcloud to pay a tip, so she gave the waitress the 80 cents in coins plus a $20 bill.
"Gawd," cried the waitress looking up at her towering benefactor with orange hair. I finish my shift at noon if you would like to come back and collect me them."
"Have a nice day," Fleetcloud cooed, disappointed that on this mission sex was confined to one male.
Along the street she saw a man standing outside a jewelry store, shuffling, looking in the store and checking his watch every few seconds. He appeared agitated. He looked elderly but Fleetcloud had been told age was of no consequence providing the male was still capable of firing sperm, the critical factor was his genes and by that the computer didn't mean his denim hip-huggers.
She winked at him and he looked surprised.
"Do we know each other?"
"I don't think so," she answered truthfully.
"I'm Pastor Philips," he said. "It is part of my mission in life to help save people like you."
"I'll let you save me in return for you impregnating me."
To Fleetcloud's dismay the man Philips ran into the store shouting "Miriam, Miriam!"
She walked on a little disappointed by near 45th Street a tall, dark and handsome man came out of a store and bumped into Fleetcloud, turning to berate her but his eyes widened in surprise as she was a good two inches taller than him. "Holy shit."
"What is it darling?" said his sweetheart, looking at the new friendship ring on her finger.
"Pardon me, I wasn't looking where I was going," apologized the man.
"I think you purposely bumped into me so we can have sexual connection," Fleetcloud said evenly.
"Daniel, what are you doing trying to pick up a prostitute right under my nose?"
"Don't be angry, Tammy. I almost knocked her off her feet, and anyway, one doesn't pick up prostitutes, they offer it uninvited."
"You are being unfaithful to me, Daniel," said the lovely young woman, bursting into tears. Daniel looked shocked and Fleetcloud knew intervention was necessary if she was to get his member into her vagina.
"There now, it was an accident," she said, touching Tammy's arm. Change in Tammy was instantaneous; she smiled, the tears had gone and even her make-up looked greatly improved.
"Are you hurt?" asked Tammy. "He's such a strong, heavily muscular brute."
"Strong? This is strong," replied Fleetcloud, forgetting instructions not to exhibit herself. She grabbed Daniel by his belt and with one hand lifted him until his belt was at her eye-level and then placed him back on the ground. The computerized rage coming to Fleetcloud through her nipple ring connection was close to becoming a self-generated virus.
People around them gaped then hurried off, some looking back quite anxiously. But as this was New York, New Yorkers are never surprised at anything they see, Fleetcloud correctly assumed the ones showing fear were tourists, probably non-American.
As Daniel's 25-year-old feet hit the pavement the 180 lb fitness trainer gulped and said "Jesus!" while Tammy eyed Fleetcloud adoringly and asked, "Can you teach me to do that?"
The Behavioral Coaching Computer had taken over instruction and ordered Fleetcloud to cross to the next block immediately and to leave these people alone.
"Goodbye," she said to Daniel and turning to Tammy said "Twin boys in fifteen months and twenty-three days from today. Mother and boys will do well; you'll make a great mom." Then she turned and strode away.
