Chapter 10: The Max Trap
Ernestine Bowles was trapped in a loveless marriage for 47 years. She had been born in 1854, shortly before the Civil War, in Cincinnati, Ohio. By 1870 her pubes had grown in and she was ready to attract a mate and begin the cycle of reproduction. A young industrialist named Henry Wilson swept her off her feet at a ball. He was so charming! He was so handsome! And most importantly, he was so
wealthy
, an in-law to the Rockefellers. They got married, and Henry promptly impregnated her once, twice, thrice, with Donald, Maura, and Cassandra.
But Henry changed over time. Her loving husband gradually grew more distant from her. After Donald was born, Henry was loving, but not enthusiastic about it; after Maura, Henry grew somewhat distant, and after Cassandra, he grew downright bored with her. Naturally all the chores of childraising were left to her.
Ernestine suspected Henry was having affairs with other women. And then the day came when she caught him in bed with Tilly Sanderson, who was his secretary at work.
"Why, Henry?" she wailed, as Henry methodically put his clothes back on. He was cool, calm, and collected.
"Why?" she asked again.
Only when Henry was fully dressed did he deign to answer her. "It's a normal part of life," he said.
A normal part of life.
As if men were meant to seduce women, bed them, impregnate them, and then move on, to spread their seed far and wide. Ernestine didn't know a thing about evolutionary biology, but even if she had, it wouldn't have taken the sting out of the remark.
And so Ernestine settled down into a largely loveless marriage for the next 42 years, while Henry had a series of clandestine and not-so-clandestine affairs. In those days one didn't simply get divorced, especially not from a wealthy family like Henry's; Ernestine could be tossed penniless in the streets.
And so she bit her lip, and endured. When Henry died at 71, Ernestine was secretly glad. But her bitterness didn't end. She had given her entire life to him, but had never known the comforts of a loving husband. She nursed that bitterness for another 7 years until the day she accidently slipped and broke her neck in her bathtub, dying instantly.
Only she didn't die, not entirely.
She became, somehow, some kind of... ghost.
At first, Ernestine roamed around listlessly. There was something keeping her here, she knew, some reason she hadn't Moved On. But she didn't know what it was.
Finally, she entered the mansion of the Wentworths. John Wentworth was one of the original railroad barons, and still quite wealthy. She watched as John neglected and ignored his wife, Cindy, to carouse with whores. She watched Cindy cry herself to sleep every night as John had his way with other women.
And so one night Ernestine somehow got inside of Cindy's body, and, after John had gone to bed, used Cindy to smother John with a pillow. When Cindy realized what she had done, she cried out in despair. But then, Ernestine quickly felt something else in Cindy.
Satisfaction
.
And after that, Ernestine's purpose became clear.
********
His name was Max Boot. He was fabulously wealthy, having patented the Smart Tampon which told women when they needed to be changed. Whenever the Smart Tampon became saturated, it would emit a discrete high pitched whine which warned women of the need to be discarded. Women loved it, and Max became fabulously wealthy.
In the process he burned through not one or two but four wives, cheating on each of them in succession.
In short, he was just the kind of playboy who made Ernestine's blood boil. Speaking figuratively, of course;
kalaks
had no blood of any kind. Ernestine was a
Fiend
, an immensely powerful and malign
kalak
, a glowing shadowy shape vaguely in human form with red, glowing eyes.
Max lived on his giant yacht, the
Diamond Princess
, sailing the world with his latest girlfriend, a blonde bombshell named Nicole. Ernestine first took possession of his body when he was asleep. She liked to do that, to give her time to get used to a new host.
Max felt... different. Ernestine had inhabited dozens of hosts over the years, but Max's body was odd... it felt like a person's body, sort of but almost... almost an imitation of a body, as if someone had sculpted a realistic body out of clay, and put it out as a real person's. It was an odd, artificial feeling.
But Ernestine shrugged it off. There were so many different bodies in the world, it was inevitable she would come across some with peculiar characteristics.
After Max woke up and had breakfast, Ernestine, with excited anticipation, introduced herself.
Hello.
Max raised his eyebrows.
Yes, you heard that.
"Who is this?" Max asked.
I'm your conscience
. Ernestine liked starting out this way. She could rarely make her hosts feel guilty; after all, men like this were dirty pigs, but sometimes she could panic them a little.
Max reacted in a way she didn't expect.
"Well, you have a nice voice."
A nice voice?
What kind of response was that?
Max, you've done a lot of bad things in your life.
"I have?" said Max, smiling.
Something was clearly wrong. Anyone else would have been frightened out of their wits to hear an accusing voice in their head. Ernestine had seen it time and time again. But Max was as calm and collected as if he was having a holocall with his aunt.
Ernestine doggedly kept going.
Yes. And now you're going to pay for it.
"How?"
You're going to open your holochannel to your bank, and transfer all your funds to the Guttmacher Institute for the Social Advancement of Women and Girls.
The Institute did
amazing
work for half the population of the globe, funding free HappyHappys for poor women, sending cultural missions to uplift the Laquintans of Ramada, and teaching young girls leadership and speaking skills, as well as helpful tips on masturbation and menstruation. Ernestine expected Max to struggle, as she manipulated his hands over his holocom. She expected him to fight. She expected him to resist-
"Oh, all right," said Max, idly watching his hands move with a smile, as he set up the transaction to empty his entire bank account, all of it, and wire it directly to the Guttmacher Institute. Ernestine manipulated his thumb, pressing the holographic SEND button, and it was done.
Max just stood there, still smiling. Ernestine waited a moment, and had Max refresh his account.
It's empty, see? Zero. Nothing. Nada. Where is all your money now, rich man?
"Gone," said Max.
Aren't you devastated? Where's your anger? Where's your rage?
Something was missing!
Max sighed. "I guess I'll have to get a job."
That's it? I just transferred... 32 million dollars, and that's your only reaction? That you guess you'll have to get a job?
"Try to calm down."
Don't tell me to calm down! You're supposed to be the one who's outraged!
"All right, all right." Max sat down in a lounge chair. "I'm outraged."
Something was
very, very
wrong here.
**********
"Niccy? Come here dear, I have something to tell you," said Max.
Nicole looked
