Sci-Fi & Fantasy Story

Journey to Year 1000000000

by Garylmmartin 17 min read 4.6 (3,400 views)

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Journey to the Year 1,000,000,000

By Gary L.M. Martin

Chapter 23

[Note: This is a Science Fiction story with some erotic scenes. It is

not

a story with erotic scenes in every chapter. Some chapters have incredible sex scenes, but many others have none. ]

Taylor was sitting on the beach with Pam, still contemplating possibilities, when a shadow fell over them.

"You," said Pam, getting up.

"Yes, me."

It was Doug.

But not Doug.

It was the one called 1012.

"I have found you," said 1012.

"You always had a talent for stating the obvious," said Pam.

"You must return," said 1012.

"Must I?" said Pam.

"Yes," said 1012.

"I am not finished with my studies," said Pam.

"You are," said 1012. "You are a research tool. I am an expediter. I have come here to fulfill my function."

"And if I refuse?" Pam asked.

"Watch and see," said 1012. And then he disappeared.

The ground started to rumble.

"Earthquake!" Taylor cried.

Pam rapidly looked left and right.

"No!" she cried.

Suddenly, they were in orbit, around the Earth.

Australia was starting to bubble.

Australia was starting to sink.

1012 was causing Australia to sink into the Pacific Ocean. As they watched, they could see the edges of it start to submerge.

"No!" Pam cried. Her body stiffened, as if embarking on some major effort.

"Can you stop it?" Taylor cried.

Pam didn't answer.

Taylor looked down at Australia. It still seemed to be sinking. Millions of people would be drowned. The edges of the continent were disappearing, as if they were being erased.

Sinking, sinking, sinking...

And then it wasn't. The continent started to rise again. The edges, which had been submerged, rose out of the water. In moments, it was like it once was.

"You did it!" said Taylor, hugging her.

"That is just the beginning," said Pam quietly. "Look!" She pointed to Africa.

Africa was... coming apart. It was breaking apart roughly, into two jagged, uneven pieces, with the fault line running through the Congo, Uganda, and Kenya. Huge crevices opened in the Earth as the two halves of the continent were pulled apart. Taylor watched with horrid fascination as enormous depths of the earth appeared, reminding him of Corta.

Pam stiffened again, and Africa stopped separating. Slowly it started to come together again. Within moments, it was whole.

Taylor looked at Pam. She looked drained. How long would she be able to manage this?

"Come here," she said.

Taylor looked puzzled, but she wasn't talking to him.

1012 appeared at their side, floating with them in orbit. "You have made your point," said Pam.

"You will return," said 1012.

"I will return," said Pam.

1012 smiled, and gave Taylor a look of superiority. Then he turned back to Pam. "Then let us go," said 1012.

"Soon," said Pam, looking sternly at him.

"Now," said 1012.

"I said, soon," said Pam. And she waved her hand, and 1012 disappeared.

"Where did he go?" Taylor asked.

"Away," said Pam.

And suddenly, they were back in Taylor's apartment.

Taylor's mind struggled to keep up with events. The entire human race had been changed... and then unchanged. Pam had had sex with a lot of men... but she was here, with him now. One of the beings from the year one billion had tried to destroy the Earth. Pam had stopped him.

And Pam had promised to return to her native time, one billion years in the future.

Pam looked at Taylor. "Make love to me."

"What-"

"Make love to me, Taylor."

She pressed her lips against his; they were full of desire, and longing. She needed to be taken.

Taylor took her.

********

Taylor tried to drive the sense of foreboding out of his mind as he tenderly and skillfully made love to Pam. She looked so incredibly beautiful, with her luscious red lips, her green eyes, her high cheekbones, and her luxuriant blonde hair, which framed her face so angelically. He put a hand on her large, heavy breasts and kneaded them until she smiled. Then he sucked on her titties until they were long and hard, and she was crying out.

Then Taylor moved lower, and used the head of his organ to play with her vaginal lips. She looked at him lovingly. Her face was full of adoration. He tried to burn it into his memory,

He nuzzled her vaginal lips with the head of his shaft, poking just a little in, a little out, until she gasped. And when she said, with real emotion, "Now, Michael! I need you inside of me!" he smiled and penetrated her fully, and her satisfied smile at that moment was its own reward.

They made love. At times they were two beings. At other times, when she was fully impaled, and she was gasping his name and he was whispering hers, they were only one. They looked into each other's eyes as their bodies touched each other intimately. They had both had had each other many times before, but this time was special. The bond between them had been tested, and frayed, but they both learned the truth, that it was stronger than ever, and that excited them both more than anything.

Taylor kept looking into those green eyes, seeing the lust and love and adoration which was a mirror of his own. Despite the fact that he had had sex twice in the past twenty four hours, he found himself closing rapidly on his climax, a climax he was sensed was going to be more powerful than anything he had ever known.

"I love you," Taylor cried, looking at her so intently.

"And I love you," she responded, kissing him passionately.

His climax drove hers, and they both plowed over the edge of the cliff at the same time, crying out as they drove over it together, willfully, lustfully, and with regretful finality. Pam's vagina clamped down on the head of Taylor's organ, milking him for all he was worth, and he released spurt after spurt, deep inside of her.

He never stopped looking at her eyes, and she at his.

They lay together for a truly long time.

And then Pam, ever so gently, pushed him off of her. "It's time, my love," she said.

"Time? Time for what?" Taylor asked.

"For me to go," said Pam.

"What do you mean, Pam?" Taylor asked.

"You know, Michael," said Pam. "You've always known." She got up. Suddenly, she was dressed. So was Michael.

"Oh no. Oh my God no. You're leaving me right after having sex?" Taylor's jaw dropped open.

"It is the way, Michael," said Pam, looking at her hair in the mirror. "You and Pam taught me that."

Pam. Because Pam, the original Pam, had had sex with him right before breaking up, this Pam, the future Pam thought that was the best way to leave him. If Taylor hadn't felt so bitter he might have laughed.

Taylor got up. "Please, don't go," he said, grabbing her hand, with naked desperation in his tone.

"I have to, my love," she said. "I have to go back to the future, and convince

not to erase the galaxy."

"Do you think you can?"

"I do," said Pam. She knew she could convince a few of

. 37. 37 was partial to her, and almost always took her side. And she thought she could convince 1012. Of course, there would be a price she would have to pay for his cooperation. But once she convinced both of them, and a few others, they in turn would convince the rest.

"Then convince them, and come back to me," said Taylor.

"I am so sorry, my love. But I cannot." She knew the price she would have to pay 1012 would not permit her to return. She caressed his cheeks. "You are of this time, and of this stage of development. I am from a different time, and a different kind of... people. I am meant to be where I started from, just as you were meant to be here."

Pam looked into his eyes, and saw tears start to stream out of them. "I see I have hurt you. Again. Exactly as she did."

Taylor winced at the mention of

her

"I am so sorry, Michael. Always remember I love you so very much."

"Don't leave me," Michael begged, his voice thick with pleading.

"I must," said Pam again. She pressed her lips against his again. She felt his firmness, his masculinity, and his love. "Such a simple act... and yet it can mean so much." She looked up at him. "Do not be sad, my love. In such a large and unlimited universe, nothing can be truly unique. There are always patterns."

Taylor looked puzzled for a moment. She smiled up at him, and he felt her body start to fade.

"Please, don't go," he cried again.

Pam hugged him tightly, and kissed him one more time. He felt the substance of her lips, even as they started to dissolve against his own.

Tears formed in his eyes as his lover began to disappear in his arms.

"Goodbye, my love," she said, and she was so far gone that he could almost see right through her.

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A sudden thought occurred to Taylor. "Wait! How will I know if you have been successful? How will I know if the Earth was saved?" Taylor asked.

Pam had almost completely faded. Her voice sounded like it came down a long tunnel. "If you still exist after I am gone... then you will know," said Pam.

And then she faded entirely, and he was left hugging empty air. Taylor collapsed, embracing himself, and he sobbed wildly.

He was totally, completely, entirely...

Alone.

********

Michael Taylor....

...............................................................

EXISTED!

And so did the planet Earth, and the rest of the galaxy.

Pam must have been successful.

Of course, the Earth wasn't

entirely

unchanged.

Twenty seven thousand Australians drowned when their continent unexpectedly started to fall into the ocean. Two hundred and four thousand Africans went missing, their bodies never recovered. Whole new fault lines were created in central Africa, which became unstable earthquake country.

The African Union was as angry as ever, perhaps more so, having been briefly and traumatically turned white, and then turned black again, but in slightly different shades.

The followers of the She-Goddess took it as a sign that mankind's final self-destruction of the planet was near; and the Equalitarians saw it as confirmation that the Equalpocalypse was at hand. The followers of Laquinta on Ramada embarked on a massive starship building program.

With the loss of their additional empathy, as well as the ability to sense the feelings of others, most people reverted to the way they were. Generous people continued to be generous; mean people continued to be mean; scumbags continued to be scumbags, and the world moved on.

But sometimes, once in a while, some people would remember the way it had been, however briefly, and some behaviors started to change. The residual was like a small injection of empathy into the body of humanity. Sometimes people were a little nicer to each other than they otherwise would have been; sometimes they were more understanding; sometimes they were more reasonable; and sometimes they were more helpful. It wasn't as big a change as Pam had hoped for, but it was definitely an accelerated nudge in a certain direction.

*********

Michael Taylor looked at his new shoulder bars and wrist rank circles in the mirror. He was a full commander now.

Michael Taylor had saved the planet Earth. Indeed, he had saved the entire galaxy.

And they hadn't even promoted him to Captain.

Still, it made sense, of course, from a certain perspective.

While the black box was gone, and with it the immediate threat to the planet Earth, not everyone was convinced that Michael Taylor had anything to do with it. Certainly few people knew that the Earth and the galaxy had ever been in danger of being erased retroactively, and even fewer of those who knew that actually believed it. The prevailing wisdom was that Pam had decided to leave on her own, and the threat, the threat of the black box, had somehow ended itself.

Still, even under that version of events, even Taylor's most devout adversaries had to admit that he might have been helpful, in some not so clear way, in the resolution of the whole crisis. And after four warships had disappeared, the Survey Service was badly in need of heroes, and Taylor had been the only one to bring even a handful of his crew back alive. And after all, the shockwaves stopped coming out after the Black Box right after the

Devonshire

launched into it. Rightly or wrongly, Taylor was given credit for saving the Earth, and Admiral Von Windhoek, who decided to give up rearing small plants in his office and go back to managing space fleets, had managed to secure a promotion for him to full commander.

Taylor smiled. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had nothing to do with the disappearance of the Black Box; the United had simply given up when they failed to lure any more ships down the time corridor. But he had played a primary role in helping Pam get in touch with her humanity, which in turn motivated her to save the galaxy from being erased, thus saving the Earth. And so, he was being promoted for an honor he

didn't

deserve, while at the very same time he remained totally unappreciated for the

even more important act

for which he was much more deserving. Such was the way of life.

Things returned to normal. The Survey Service had opened for business again, and the followers of the She-Goddess who were blocking the main gate were arrested, drenched with water hoses, beaten with rubber truncheons, and sent on their merry way. Rockets came and went as they regularly did.

********

The Admiral had promised to get a

real

command for him, not a cargo vessel.

Of course, Taylor had no real hope of being given the

Judicator

; battle cruisers were the provenance of full captains, at the least.

But soon enough Taylor found himself in command of the USS

Admonitor

, a brand new Survey Service destroyer. When he saw his new ship, he smiled. Full Commanders were not usually given command of destroyers, though it wasn't quite as preposterous as giving a Lieutenant Commander command of a frigate. The Admiral had stretched to give him a suitable reward, and Taylor appreciated it.

But Taylor was still aching for Pam. He had given no thought to seeking out the original Pam; their relationship was over, he knew, and now that original Pam was no longer so concerned about satisfying the needs of mankind at large, he sensed that Doug would not be quite so enthusiastic about Pam servicing his own needs. If only he could be a listening device on the wall of their home as they Pam and Doug talked about that....

No, it was his Pam,

the future Pam

, who Taylor missed tremendously. He found himself thinking about her all the time.

Taylor wondered where she was now, back in the distant future. He wondered if she still thought of him. Taylor was sitting in his command office on the

Admonitor

, staring into space, when he got a comm from his first officer.

His new scientific advisor had just come onboard. The

Admonitor

, though a destroyer, was taking on a group of scientists for a scientific mission. The lead scientist, a doctor with the unlikely name of Leila Olivia, wanted to meet with him.

"Send her in," said Taylor listlessly.

Doctor Olivia entered his office. She was a blonde woman in her early 30's.

Taylor's eyes went wide.

"Captain Taylor?" she said, walking in. "My name is Leila Olivia." She smiled at him, and extended a hand.

Taylor's jaw dropped as he mindlessly shook her tender hand. No.

It couldn't be.

Olivia could see the effect she was having on him. "Captain? Is everything all right?"

Taylor, his mouth still open, nodded slowly. "Have we... have we met before?"

"No, I don't think so," said Doctor Olivia.

Taylor continued to stare at her.

"Though I've wanted to meet you for some time," said Doctor Olivia.

"You have?" said Taylor, still looking stunned.

"Yes. I read the classified report on the alien you brought back from the future." Olivia brushed a lock of blonde hair out of her green eyes.

"Pam," said Taylor, staring straight at her. "Her name was Pam."

"Pam, yes," said Doctor Olivia. She still noticed Taylor was staring at her so intently, and wondered why. "A fascinating being," she said.

"Fascinating? Yes, very fascinating," said Taylor, his eyes still wide as he stared at her.

"If you have the time, I'd love to hear about your experiences with her," said Doctor Olivia, smiling again at Taylor.

"Time? Of course," said Taylor, looking at her empty ring finger. "Would you... would you like to discuss it over dinner, Doctor Olivia?"

"I'd love to," she said. "And call me Leila," she said, giving him a sly smile.

"Only if you call me Michael," said Taylor, staring at the face that looked and sounded almost exactly like Pamela's.

"Michael," she said, getting a small chill that made her breasts tremble slightly. "I think I'd like that."

"I think I'd like that too," said Taylor, smiling broadly.

The End

Author's Note 9/8/19

I originally got the idea to write this book when I heard that the third season

of Star Trek Discovery

was going to take place a thousand years in the future. At first I thought, "That's really brave, to take a stab at showing what a thousand years in the future will look like. But my second reaction was, "Wait a minute. This is politically correct zero-imagination Star Trek. All they will do is show a new set of aliens with bumps on their heads who have the same exact inclinations and behaviors as the current set of anthropomorphic bumpy headed aliens."

So I decided to write my own story, not about a thousand years ahead, but a

billion

Ever notice how no science fiction writer writes about the distant future? No one writes about millions of years into the future, certainly not a billion. The only thing I could find in my research (I always research my books) was HG Wells'

The Time Machine

. His idea of the distant future was boring--giant red crabs chasing butterflies. Yes,

giant red crabs chasing butterflies

. It sounds retarded, doesn't it? But at least he

tried

No one else has even done as much as retarded HG Wells to write about the distant future. That's because most people who call themselves "science fiction writers" are not science fiction writers at all. They are all retards. They are only capable of writing books of the near past and near future, where people act and usually talk almost EXACTLY THE SAME as they do today. They are only capable of writing such books because they have read other bad writers write nearly the exact same books and only know how to make even worse versions of their own, like a bad copy of a bad copy of a bad copy. They can't write a book about something which someone else hasn't written about 50 or a hundred times before. It would have to be original, and most scifi writers/retards can't do that.

Therefore, I decided to step in where retards fear to tread. And it was challenging! I had to ask myself--what would be the motivations of aliens five hundred million years in the future? A billion years? I was starting with a blank slate. The outlining was REALLY TOUGH, and I spent many days walking furiously back and forth on my oriental rugs figuring out the details. What could the future look like? And, more importantly, how could I present it in a dramatic, interesting way? You don't want to pay $5 to read about

f****** giant red crabs chasing butterflies

? Am I right? I think I am!