Distant Dreams II – Male POV
I remember the first day I met Alease. It was at JSC in Houston, and we were to start our training together. I’d already spent nearly two years training on my own for the mission, but the managers thought it was important for me and her to spend some time as a team.
I already knew when I got to JSC that she was a hybrid, a magical mating of a human brain and a supercomputer, but no one told me that she was as crazy as a fucking bedbug. The very first thing that the dilly bitch did was to tell me that the ‘J’ in JSC stood for Johnson and that he was some long-dead president. Like I give a rat’s ass.
On the other hand, I guess I can’t blame her for being a fucking loon. When they told me that she would be the pilot and engineer—and I use the term loosely because just how could she actually fix anything if it broke?—for the flight to Abirutu Phi, I did a little checking. Major Alease Harding had been one of the shining stars of the UN Space Fleet. Competent, smart, decisive, and all the other terms you’d expect to be applied to a pilot. Then things all went wrong on a flight she made to the moon. She smacked into the lunar surface at something just over five klicks per second. Since her ship had rammed into the side of the hospital, they got her inside pretty fast. All that was left of Alease was her brain, so they put it in a jar and wired her up to a computer.
Fuck, I’d be wacky if that happened to me, so I forgave her little odd habits and smiled at her camera eyes when I looked at her. I know I have must have stared at her in disbelief sometimes, but I tried to not let her catch me at it. The last thing I wanted was to piss her off.
Now this…thing would be flying the ship carrying my precious ass for forty-five years and I’d be asleep for most of the ride. I wouldn’t even know it if she ran us into a star.
But the picture of Alease that was in the file told me more than the file itself. She’d been a looker. Long blonde hair, green eyes, tits like a stripper, and legs that reached all the way from her ass to the deck. And based on the way that her lips parted for the smile she wore in the official picture, I’d bet good money that she could suck cock like a porn star.
Later that evening, after I said goodnight to Alease, some of the techs took me down the local flyboy bar. I guess I should feel bad for not remembering her name, but the petite woman from the SRB team was so hot she was on fire. We danced a lot and drank even more, and then about midnight, she reached under the table and grabbed my dick and smiled. “So, what do we do now, Eric?” What’s a guy to do? We went back to my place and I got my first score at JSC.
OK, I know what you’re thinking. I’m scum for fucking her while she was drunk. I’m vile for running my cock so far down her throat that she gagged and almost puked. I’m a riffraff for coming all over her face and enjoying watching her lick it off. Yeah, I ain’t no angel, folks, but I didn’t do anything she didn’t like. I never forced anything on her. And so what if I can’t remember her name? I doubt she remembers mine, either. I mean, all she screamed was “Fuck my ass, baby!”
But even I see me as a bit of shit because I kept seeing Alease’s picture in my mind while I banged…whoever she was.
I remember that it was about six months into the training that Alease and I shared when I began to wonder about things. The machine that I’d come to know as Alease Harding was interesting. Despite losing her body, she didn’t lose any of her skills as a pilot. Maybe they got even better because she couldn’t panic. She had no adrenal glands to flood her system with adrenaline, so she handled emergencies in the simulator with a cold, calculated efficiency. Alease never made mistakes and she always did just exactly what she intended to do. In some ways, it was scary.
And I couldn’t help wondering what she would be like in bed. Well, not now, no, but when she still had tits and a pussy. And everything else, too. At the time, I was a little ashamed of it, but now I’ll admit that I would jack off while looking at her picture.
I would imagine her full lips wrapped around my cock as she swallowed my full length, and then how Alease would flick her tongue over the slit before plunging her mouth back down my shaft. When she turned to straddle my face, sweet juices ran from her cunt, and I tongue-fucked her as fast as I could. And I just knew she loved getting her ass fucked hard.
I can still see her in my mind’s eye, bent over a chair, her ass sticking out as she reached back to spread her cheeks wide, and she would beg me to slam my cock all the way into her tight anus in one thrust. Once I was in her, Alease would reach back between her legs and finger her pussy, grabbing at my balls when they slapped against her.
In the building brightness of my approaching climax, I felt her clinching her ass, squeezing my cock tighter and tighter, and my fist around my shaft intensified the image. When I came, my body thrashed on the bed and cum squirted high in the air, but my visions were of it filling her ass to overflowing and oozing out around my throbbing dick.
I knew that such fantasies were just that, though. Alease—or at least the woman that had been Alease—was long dead. The thing she’d become wasn’t human. It couldn’t fuck or suck or even kiss, and it sure as shit couldn’t feel anything. I doubt that she could even love or like. All of the hormones controlling that kind of thing in humans were gone.
So, most nights, maybe four or five a week, I went down to the bar. If I couldn’t nail one of the staff from JSC, there were always astronaut groupies hanging around, and at least one of them would be more than happy to give a blow job to a real, honest to God astronaut.
I remember the day before the launch when I noticed that Alease was somehow different. Maybe I’d noticed it before then, but I just dismissed it as a glitch in her speech circuits.
The techs had given Alease a woman’s voice, and I guess she’d learned to put something like inflection in the voice somehow. She could lilt her voice a little at the end of question, just like they taught us way back in grammar school. She could change the tone a little, too, but not by much. And Alease could control the volume of her voice. Put those things together, and she sounded human. Well, almost.
On the day before launch, I was over at the communications console talking to a girl—I think her name was Penny, or something like that—and I noticed that Alease’s voice had gone oddly flat. She actually sounded like the machine that she was.
“Eric, may I speak to you?” The mechanical sound was eerie.
I walked over to the box that held her. “Sure, what’s up, babe?”
“You and I should be spending this time together.” The tone changed to something a little softer. “For the mission.”
I smiled my best smile for her cameras, and I knew it was a damned good smile, too. It had gotten me laid more times than I could count over the last year. “Hey, we’re gonna have fifty years together.” I patted the metal of her case beside the cameras. “You’re my number one girl.”
The voice that came from the grilled speaker was almost like that of a little girl. “You always make me feel better.”
I doubt that a grenade going off inside her case could make her feel anything.
I remember that we were three weeks out from Earth, and everything was going as planned. Well, most of it was, anyway.
The ion drives with their gentle push were running us up to ever faster speeds, and all of the systems were clicking along just fine. I wasn’t supposed to go into hibernation for another week, and I was bored out of my mind. Alease ran the entire ship from her little metal box in the cabin, so I had nothing to do but sit around and stare at the walls.
I talked to some of the girls back at Mission Control, but it wasn’t all that easy. We were far enough out that the delay in the communications link—nearly three hours now—made an actual conversation all but impossible. So I settled for just sending dirty messages to them and listening to their replies.
It was kind of fun, though. I’d tell them how I wanted to fold them over like a taco and fuck their pussy and ass. They’d send back how they wanted to suck my cock. I’d fire off a note that I wanted to eat her pussy while fucking her ass with a big dildo, and she would reply that she wanted to feel my cock in her ass while she shoved the dildo in her cunt.
I’d become acutely aware that I had no privacy, though. I wanted to jack off while listening to some of the girls when they talked of how they would lick my balls, but Alease had cameras everywhere in the ship, even in my cabin and the head. Yeah, I know that she needed to see everyplace so she could deal with problems that might come up, but fuck! It would have felt funny to beat off while Alease watched me. And I didn’t trust her not to look.
In fact, for some reason, I wasn’t sure I trusted Alease at all. Her voice was always that flat, metallic sound of a talking computer now. She rarely put any inflection in when she talked to me, but I knew her systems were working right, because when she talked to Mission Control, she sounded like herself. I didn’t know if she was mad, sad, nuts, or just plain broke.
I was sending a message to one of the girls, telling her how much I wanted to grab her by the hair and fuck her face when Alease spoke from the speaker in the communications console. “Eric, why are you doing that?” The voice held no emotion.
I was miffed because she’d taken to interrupting me all of the time, no matter what I was doing. “Why do you think? Because I’m fucking bored and horny.”
“You have me.”
“Yeah, right. You’re OK to talk to, but you sure ain’t much to look at and I don’t see a slot on your case marked ‘fuck me here’.” I sighed, blowing all the air from my lungs. Looking back, that was a good thing.
She didn’t respond, at least not verbally.
Suddenly, the forward port airlock just opened. The flying debris from the cabin and the rushing air caught me and swept me toward the door. I always thought that decompression would be noisy, a deafening sound as the air all rushed out into space, but it wasn’t. There was a soft whooshing sound, then silence. There wasn’t enough air to carry the sound anymore.
I clawed at the edge of the airlock, digging my nails into the gasket as hard as I could, but that was the act of a desperate man. Even if I could have held on, there was no air to breath.
I remember seeing the stars as I flew out into space surrounded by paper, empty cups, and other things I didn’t have time to identify before I passed out.
I heard voices, but I wasn’t sure I recognized them at all. One sounded a little familiar.
“Colonel Randolph? Can you hear me?”
“Yeah, I hear you.” My voice sounded funny, tinny. “Who are you and where am I?” I almost panicked. “And why can’t I see you?”
“Just relax, Colonel. There was an accident, but you’re going to be just fine.”
“Accident my ass! That crazy bitch killed me!” On the other hand, if I was dead, how was I able to have this conversation?
“Yes, it looks like Alease has had a malfunction, but we’re going to find out why. About twenty-five years after you left Earth, we literally stumbled across a way to travel faster than light. We found your body floating out in space, and recovered it, and it was very good that you remembered your training and cleared your lungs of air. You froze almost instantly, and we were able to extract your brain and get the neural patterns from that.” The voice sounded very pleased with itself. “We’re going to pick up Alease in a few minutes, and we’ll all find out what happened back then.”
It hit me like a ton of bricks then.
I was just like Alease.