Chapter 11
The Sensitivity Center was charged with the task of monitoring whole populations; checking their thoughts and actions and emotions through the use of sophisticated cybernetic equipment.
The main purpose of this monitoring procedure was to make sure that the level of hostility in the population didn't reach the level where they would be willing to break the inter-galactic law against making war.
It was a quiet morning in the center when the first lights began to flash. A series of beeps came from Territory Seven on the world map. Immediately every person in the center left his or her work and gathered around the massive wall map. They watched carefully; it could be a false alarm, where the cybernetic equipment was triggered by some natural phenomenon. But then the beeping and lights came loud and clear; it was obvious that something terrible was happening in the minds of the people who inhabited the populous Territory Seven.
Twelve hours later, Steve Jinn, field agent for the Sensitivity Center in Territory Seven, was in a transportation tube, heading toward main headquarters. Although he was not aware of the findings of the Center, he knew something was up by the urgent message to return.
He was ushered quickly through the halls, with the usual tedious security check, and brought into the Chief's office. It was the first time in his ten years as a agent that he had been allowed in that office.
The moment the chief saw him, he came out from behind the massive desk, smiling, his hand extended. They shook hands and Steve sat down, aware of the tension in the air. A number of the chief's aides were standing behind the desk, their arms filled with various readings from the equipment.
"Well, you must realize that something's up."
Yes, sir."
"It's in your territory. We've uncovered a hostility reading that is almost one hundred per cent higher than any reading we've taken in the past ten years."
Steve sat still, it was frightening information. At that intensity, the people in Territory Seven would be at War with someone within a month.
"Are you sure has the machine been checked out?"
"No mistake," the Chief said, bringing his hand forcefully down on the desk in front of him.
"I hope you're aware that our job is more then detection. It's also to head those sudden psychic eruptions off before they become fatal."
"I realize that, Sir."
"Good. It'll be your baby. Best of luck." hey shook hands again and Steve followed one of the aides out of the office.
"We're going to the vault," he said.
They entered a tube at the end of the hall and strapped themselves in for the supersonic voyage. Two seconds later they unstrapped themselves, deep in the vault caves of the center of the planet. Steve shivered as he stepped out of the tube. It was pitch dark except for a few candles which lit the way. They walked for miles until they came to the center vault.
"Wait here," he cautioned Steve.
Ten minutes later he came out with a small box and opened them. Steve saw about twenty pink pills.
"This is our emergency treatment, the strongest and most sophisticated erotic drug we've developed."
Steve reached out for the box but the aide thrust it behind his back.
"Not yet," he cautioned, "I want to be sure know what you're doing."
Steve felt a flash of anger at being doubted ba desk man but he controlled himself and recited the litany of the agent.
"In an emergency situation, I am expected t deposit the substances into the main water and air supplies, and to extirpate the possibility of war, even at the risk of my own life."
"Yes, yes," said the aide, "I know that you are familiar with the regulations."
There was a long pause and then the man gripped Steve's arm:
"This is not an ordinary situation. The Chief says it is our greatest challenge since War was outlawed. You must succeed and you must bring us some kind of proof that you have succeeded. Go out into the street, see if it has worked, make sure."
Steve assured the man, then took the pills and placed them carefully in his pocket. They made the long walk back to the tubes and strapped themselves in.
Five hours, Steve was on his way back to Territory Seven. Arriving there, he wondered how he had not been aware of the change in the psyche of the populace. It was obvious to him now, people were surly, there were fights erupting on the street and practically no one smiled. But even worse than these minor events, there seemed to be an undercurrent of desperation in the population, a desperation that could only be expunged from their souls by some great, collective act of violence and that meant war.
That night he poured over the maps and the models of both the water aqueducts and the pure oxygen manufacturing stations. Taking a pencil, he made small marks where the pills must be placed. Then he prepared himself for action. It was a fact that the water and oxygen stations were well-guarded and that would be difficult to penetrate. But there was no turning back, it had to be done. Under cover of darkness, he slipped down the slope which covered the water station; it was a massive grass shield which kept the water pure and circulating. He knew that it would be almost impossible to enter from the front without overpowering the guard and he didn't want to hurt anyone. There was another way. Taking out of his pocket a small, electronic drill, the size of a pencil, he placed it in the ground and activated word command. The drill silently and easily cut through the grass covering and even through the plex-shield which actually covered the water like a film. Then, he dropped five of the pills down the hole and covered his tracks. It was the same at the oxygen station.
Totally exhausted and almost shaking with fright at his feats, he returned to his apartment, drenched with sweat.
It would take two days before the erotic therapy began to work, if it did for it had never been used against such a powerful war urge.
The next morning he walked the streets and picked out two control persons. The first was a tall, striking looking waitress. Steve could tell that her hostility ratio was high, she seemed to ooze the desire to hurt, to wound, even to kill. Every move she made was violent. He decided to concentrate on her, rather than diffuse his energy among others. She would be the ideal control.
"A cup of coffee, please," he said.
"Don't rush me," she answered savagely and finally gave him the coffee, sloshing it half over him in the process.
"People seem to be very angry around here," he said casually, trying to make conversation.
"Yeah?"
"Even you look how hostile you are to me just because I ask you for a cup of coffee."
She looked at him with daggers in her eyes. It was even worse than he had thought and he wondered if this was not an external problem rather than a sudden explosion of internal hate. Perhaps, he thought, it was an alien invasion, utilizing subconscious weaknesses of the masses.
The waitress was cutting a loaf of bread into slices to use for sandwiches. The steel blade gleamed wickedly in the light of the restaurant. He could see the pleasure on her face as she wielded the weapon, as she let the blade fall into the soft flesh of the bread.
"Listen
She turned to him, waiting for him to continue, the knife held at chest level.
"Never mind," he said, and then paid and left. Yes, she was the one he would watch and test. As he left he reasoned to himself that the hostility was too powerful even for an alien invasion. There had to be some other explanation. His job, however, was to cure it, not to decide how it happened. Someday, historians would decide that. As he walked back to the apartment, he saw another phenomenon which worried him deeply; angry crowds were beginning to form on the street, aimless, vicious throngs with nowhere to go and nothing to do.
Once back in the apartment, he sent a coded message back to headquarters, reporting that he had made contact with the water and air.
He tossed fitfully all night unable to sleep unable to get out of his mind the horrible consequences if he failed.
The next morning he went to see the waitress again. The restaurant was empty and she was making a fresh batch of coffee. He knew he had to try even though it was probably too early for the pills to have gone into action. Silently, he slipped behind the counter. She turned:
"Oh, it's you again."
"Are you sorry?"
"Get lost."
He could see her breasts rising gently and then falling beneath the starched white uniform. He could tell that she was wearing no bra and the darkness of her nipples were like twin cherries against the white fabric.
Steve reached across and swiftly unbuttoned her blouse, then sunk his hand into the space and grasped the firm mound of her breast. He squeezed a bit, until his fingers bruised the flesh.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, her face hard and the violence still lurking near the surface.
"Loving you," he said, and opened another button, exposing the delicate, full bodied nipples.
Bending over, he kissed her point and then let the nipple slip between his lips. His tongue began to worry it back and forth, flipping tip until he felt his body growing excited.
A second later a hard object crashed down on the back of his neck. For a moment he blacked out and then he felt himself reeling against the counter. His head crashed into the side and he saw stars. When he came to, he was lying on the floor. The waitress was standing about two feet away from him. The moment she saw him conscious, she threw a wet towel at him which hit him square in the face.
"Here, wipe the blood off," she said.
He felt it trickling down the side of his head. Reaching it with his fingers, he felt the sticky fluid. The towel stopped the bleeding and soon he was sound enough to stand.
"Now do you understand, get lost."
He walked unsteadily back to the apartment and spent the day in bed, treating his wound. It had been too early and he had paid for his optimism.
The next morning he was ready again. The waitress was sitting at a booth, reading the morning newspaper. As he approached, he realized that she seemed to have lost some of her harshness but he had to be sure.
"Is your head all right?" she asked, smiling at him for the first time. He slipped in beside her on the booth.
"I'm fine, a bit dizzy perhaps."
There was no time for subtlety. He put his hand between her legs and slowly began to peel back her panties beneath the dress.
"What are you doing?" she asked, indignantly.
"I can't help it, I need you, you've obsessed me from the moment I laid eyes on you," he lied, trying to get the proper amount of passion in his voice.
He was at the flesh. She closed her thighs around his hand but slowly she opened them for him. He began to stroke the triangle of soft hair, feeling heat flood through her body. Then he moved his fingers along her vaginal lips, making tiny circles in the moist flesh. He looked at her; her eyes were closed and there seemed to be a look of bliss on her face.
Steve shoved his finger into the steaming nest and she moaned once as she was penetrated. Deeper and deeper went the probing hand, into her juices, into the pools of dark lust which were beginning to be activated.
"Oh please, no more'" she moaned.
He removed his finger and pulled her down so that her face rested on his lap. Quickly, he opened his pants and the excited column shot up into the air. Her mouth was there and she began to kiss his pulsing flesh, beautiful, passionate kisses that sent him back against the booth, his eyes closed in ecstasy.
She opened her mouth and his penis slipped through her burning lips. He began to move his buttocks slightly so that the column moved in and out of her mouth a rhythm of love. She sucked on him with her feverish mouth--bringing her tongue to the tip and letting it coat his penis with a thin film of saliva.
Suddenly, she broke away from him and ran to the far side of the restaurant, her body shaking.
He followed after her and caught her by the coffee urn while she had her back to him. He ripped her panties off and then plunged the giant column between her shivering buttocks. She fell against the urn, moaning and crying as he plunged it deeper and deeper.
"No, no," she cried out but her words only made him pump more furiously. Her buttocks seemed to sucking him deeper and they were quivering so much that he felt like he was going into a pool of heated jelly. Then she moved quickly away from him, the penis falling from her body. But she turned a second later and ran back, opening her mouth to receive the hot seed as it poured from him.
Then there was silence.
"What are you thinking of?" he asked.
She smiled:
"Love."
"So you remember what it means that word."
A second later he was gone, hurrying back to the hotel room. He took out his special sending equipment, for use only in an emergency, and sent the headquarters the success signal. He lay on the bed, smiling waiting for the reply. It had worked beyond his wildest dreams. In a few more hours the war-fever in Territory Seven would be completely dried up. The message came, congratulating him, and advising him that he was needed in Territory Four where there was another outbreak, this one less virulent but potentially dangerous since Territory Four contained The Space labs. Packing slowly, he wondered when it would all end. Then his face hardened and he set out to do his job.