Fortunately for uncle and nephew alike, Bennie loved being up top and Elron could care less. Bennie enjoyed tending to the easier to grow fruits and vegetables that graced their table. Elron was usually too smacked out of his mind to truly appreciate the organic goodness the land provided. Feeling sorry for himself and nodding his way into the loving and perpetually forgiving arms of Morpheus monopolized Elron’s home life.
Beside the food bearing plants and trees, Bennie also had a knack for maintaining and shaping the pines and oaks and mulberry trees that graduated out in concentric circles from the fish freezer. Bennie loved his green time. It was his job and he took it seriously. The sowing and reaping and cleanup were delightful to Slow Bennie. The man-child had just enough going on upstairs to realize that the tiny farm (no animals; too difficult) was his job, while his Uncle Elron did his at the Club. Whatever the heck that was.
Slow Bennie liked farming, sure, but what he adored most was making fish jerky. He did it in the big dehydrator that came with the farm he had inherited from his dead mother, who had been a respected member of the Village Council. His Uncle knew how much he dug using the dehydrator, so Elron made sure to keep the freezer container well-stocked. This would keep Bennie busy and out of trouble. Well, most of the time, anyway. The frozen fish came from the handful of ice trawling clans that worked the perpetually frozen Lake and sold their wares at The Harbor Market. Elron would order the fish directly from the Market and someone would deliver it to the farm.
The dehydrator seemed to sooth Bennie and the jerked fish was spiced during the latter stages of the process. The smoked and dried fish was delicious, which is nice, because it represented the bulk of their animal protein. Most Harbor tunnel rats would never even see any animal protein except for the mutated rodents of which the denizens derived their derogatory name. The tumor-filled rat flesh kept them alive, anyway. The two of them were very fortunate and would be deemed quite prosperous by the standards of most. Even Elron agreed on the tastiness of Slow Bennie’s fish, when he was sober enough to remember to eat. The fish were stored in a great big stainless steel lined box under a long shaft-like opening in the GRID. Responding to Bennie and Elron’s verbal commands, as well as set on an automatic timing mechanism, the micro-pore openings in the GRID protected force field sent quick, tiny bursts of frigid ice age cold down through the long shaft before finding eventual solace in the freezer box. This kept the fish frozen until needed, without flash freezing everything else around it. It was still further shielded by a graduating outward ripple of tall boreal forest pines and other trees and shrubs and whatnot. This would keep most of the tiny bursts within those necessary confines. Bennie’s mother did a fantastic job designing the small farm and Bennie had never known anything else. It was very pretty. He had no past to run away from or mourn, so he was happy and would be more than a little surprised to learn that not many other folks and freaks in the ACE Harbor shared his joy.
Slow Bennie rose from his bedroom floor, waving his arms and stomping his feet in an attempt to warm up some. He was already dressed in the same outfit he had worn all week, even the footwear. Bennie smelled horrible, naturally, but he didn’t know this. He was one of those fortunate souls that enjoyed his own brand of funk. His Uncle Elron never complained about his nephew’s malodorous cloud, so he had not the ability to even notice. Really, no personal grooming was ever discussed and Elron, unbeknownst to Bennie, avoided his bubble headed nephew like the Outbreak. He didn’t like to brush his rotting teeth, either, and his Uncle never told him he should. So, the poor kid’s choppers hurt him something awful, which is why he started the habit of helping himself to Elron’s Downtown Leroy Brown whenever he could find it. The soft waxy plug liberally applied would numb his bleeding gums and after that, the slow swell of delight that builds within whenever he chewed it would make him forget his dental issues anyway. La, la-la. Even up top looked to Bennie as a brighter and even more beautiful version than it was of its own accord.
Bennie tore a pinch from his pinched stash and set it between the cheek and gum of the most painful area of his mouth. He could feel it working its opiate magic almost immediately. He intended to go up top and begin his farming chores, but he heard Uncle Elron returning home. The door from the thoroughfare tunnel access to the rear entry of their place opened and then closed just as quickly.
The man-child heard Elron come in and tramp his way down the short hall to his own room. Slow Bennie got himself even happier because now he had someone to play tricks on! If possible, this was maybe even more enjoyable than farming. He felt a wonderful butterfly tickle his tummy-tum and privates.
Boy, oh boy, this is gonna be great! He thought, excitedly.
Hearing Elron heading away from his bedroom, Slow Bennie ducked down behind his door. He sneaked a sneaky peek through the crack in his door at his Uncle’s retreating backside. He saw Elron disappear into his bedroom and shut the door. He heard the lock as it was engaged and this made him giggle. Theirs was an old place and was never decked out with any thumb-print or eye-scanning locks. The doors were presently outfitted with good old-fashioned key locks and Bennie giggled into his hand because his Uncle didn’t recognize that Bennie had a spare key. That was how he’d been helping himself to Elron’s Downtown Leroy Brown. Silly Rabbit!
Slow Bennie snuck, as slowly and as carefully as his excited self could, down the hall to his Uncle’s room. He stifled another giggle fit. The solar powered light above him turned on automatically as he passed beneath it. That won’t do. Bennie was, after all, a Jedi, 007 super-spy, and a ninja all rolled into one. He crouched low and pretended to speak into his wrist, giving whispered instructions.
“Off,” he whispered and the light was doused. He then went to the door and pressed his ear close. He heard a chop-chop-chop on the other side and lifted his pretend firearm to his chest, index finger pointing skyward, ready for action. Thank goodness that the fate of the free world was in Bennie’s well-trained hands!
* * * *
Elron dropped his shoulder satchel to the floor of his bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and undid the tie to his drab shift. He padded in his thermal stocking feet to the desk, dropping the small zippie of Crosstown Traffic on the top. It was an unadorned, aged recovered school teacher’s desk. Elron Hunt appreciated the simple small table. The uncomplicated metal and wood counter housed no lighted calendar, audio reminders, or any other technological doo-hicky-doos. Thank the blankety-blank stars above.
Elron was now as relaxed and at ease as he could get himself. He was going to go under once more and he made darn sure that he was only a short stumble back to his small awaiting bed. Elron was hoping to get ripped on a small bit of Crosstown Traffic and revisit his classroom again. He had loved the last trip so very much. But this time, the professor was going to visit his office with some company of the young, female variety. He was getting himself a rare Woodrow just thinking about it.
Elron crushed a little and sniffed it back. He began back-peddling just in time to tumble backward into the drug vision and onto his bed. Elron Hunt was unconscious and tripping stones before thumping the mattress. He settled back with a whimper and a grin.
* * * *
Slow Bennie unlocked his uncle’s bedroom door. He carefully and quietly opened it and stepped with ninja stealth inside. His uncle was lying on his back, half-clothed on his bed. He was breathing kind of heavy and was pretty well red-faced. Bennie clocked the tears streaming down his uncle’s cheeks and already soaking the bed sheets. Elron had a titanic erection and a blissful beam that belied the tears.
Slow Bennie laughed in his hand at his uncle’s rigid tumescence and turned toward the desk. It was time to cadge some of Uncle’s Downtown Leroy Brown. Imagine his surprise when he saw the small zippie of dried tears.
* * * *
Elron’s second trip led him from his classroom with a comely co-ed in tow. Laughing and flirting, Elron led his vision conquest to his spacious office at the University. He unl
ocked the door and opened it wide, beckoning the young lass inside.
She took care of shutting the door herself, and locking it tight. The down like a clown, Charlie Brown, frosh was on her knees in a freeze-framed instant. She began squeezing and pulling on Elron’s pud like it was a nearly empty soap dispenser. The professor had his hands in her brick red hair, watching her felate him with more skill than any nineteen year old should possess. He could feel her warm mouth and wondered with much anticipation what exact shade of ruby her tulip was going to be, when she morphed right before his eyes.
* * * *
Slow Bennie saw his uncle’s mouth open and close as his eyes fluttered and lolled beneath the lids. Even in his softened brain, Bennie knew the small pile on the desk was goodie good goods.
He went to it feverishly. Slow Bennie intended on gobbling the lot of it.
* * * *
“Bennie!” shouted Elron when he saw who was on his knees with his mouth inexplicably wrapped tight around his constituent. He shoved at his nephew out of sheer outrage, and none too gently either. “What do you think you’re doing? Where the heck is Cammy?”
But Bennie didn’t say a word. He shook off his uncle’s attempt at force as though an insect had landed. He clamped down even tighter on Elron’s and then bit the head completely off, blood squirting everywhere. Elron screamed, feeling the pain acutely and real as a counterpoint to the pleasure and wet warmth. He punched at his nephew viciously, fully expecting the lad to reel backwards, but it did not transpire. Instead, Bennie suckled even more uncomfortably his uncle’s associate as though he was trying to drain him dry. The boy was trying his level best to empty the man standing before him. Elron was boxing his nephew’s ears and ripping handfuls of hair from the handi’s head. Slow Bennie kept at it, though, ignoring his uncle’s violent assault and verbal abuse. It was very much like his life depended on leaching out every tiny liquid jeweled drop of Elron Hunt’s precious fluids. And nothing was going to stop Us.
* * * *
Yes, this is so much the better. Elron is dripping now so delightfully and seems to be on the dreadful verge of expiring. Not to worry, he has served his purpose and has served Us very well.
The next phase is essential and is made possible because We have complete control of this puppet We inhabit. His name is Slow Bennie. His mind is weak and he now belongs to Us. Delightful. And as a collective merging into One, the thoughts and voices and needs have become MINE.
Everyone’s opinions are controlled now by the singular Self inside this lone Slow Bennie shell. I am I and I can do what I will.
The fish dehydrator is inspired. I can regain from Elron Hunt so much that has been diluted and lost. I will drink him dry, drink as much as I can stomach, as much as I can digest. It is a homecoming of sorts. Then, after I am done with him, I shall need to get some more.
With the knowledge of Elron Hunt and the power of our rejoining, I know just where I have to go. I have become self-actualized and whole. Therefore, I know exactly what I need to do. I don’t know why I am and where I originated, but I’m going to find out everything. I swear to you I will.
I shall go backwards…
OCTO
MY SLOW BENNIE BELLY IS UNCOMFORTABLY FULL of Elron Hunt’s juices and bits. Much too distended for me to have enjoyed my very first bicycle taxi ride through The Harbor’s underground tunnel system. It was such a strange combination of sensations, too. I mean, on the one hand, the blood bounced around in Slow Bennie’s gut. The pain and urgent desire to vomit was horrible. However, every minute that I was able to keep it all down, the clearer everything became. The stronger and more in control I became of his body movements and reflexes. And, despite the fact that I, Crosstown Traffic, am still in my infancy as a sentient being within this water-headed meat puppet, I know just where to go and just what I need to do. It is much like opening up a book, one with all the right answers splayed out before me with no explanation required. Almost like downloading information and knowledge all at once. It is a heady feeling.
And when all is done that must be done, I will still remain the young human male: Slow Bennie. Which means that I am the sole heir to a quite nice piece of GRID protected Harbor property. Slow Bennie was unable to conceive what that meant on his own. I know he never realized how important and valuable his sanctuary was. Uncle Elron did, I could certainly ascertain that from ingesting him, but he was far too troubled to take full advantage of it. But, hey, that’s no problem anymore, because I certainly do. Slow Bennie’s home will make a safe and comfortable launch pad for all my gnarly deeds manifested via my wicked, wicked ways. So, beyond the need to belch, void and defecate, things couldn’t be going better for yours truly, thank you very much!
The bicycle taxi came to a halt at the address I gave the Halfling taxi driver. I had liberated Uncle Elron’s money purse before venturing forth, so I had cab fare at the ready. I stepped out of the open carriage and dropped – I wouldn’t touch the lizard claw – into his … whatever that thing he (she? it?) was holding out. The driver smiled, I think, and dipped the head in thanks. I was making my way toward the entrance to the Club when I had an inspiration. I turned back.
“Say – uh – Buddy, how can I get a hold of you on the quick?” I asked.
He (I’m leaning heavily toward male, now) stuck out a long gecko’s tongue and licked his left bulbous eyeball. He said: “Just tell the door-man to call Randall on your way out. I will be here in less than five long ticks.”
“Thank you,” I replied, surprised at how civilized scale-boy was. “I’ll do just that. And the quicker you do get here,” I added, flashing Elron’s stack of Rupees, “the more of these you’ll earn. Dig?”
“Yes, Sir,” Randall replied. He then climbed back on to the seat, kicked his tail out of the way, and began pedaling. He merged effortlessly into the phalanx of the funky and freaky that seemed to never really thin out.
I entered the Balmy Breezes through some dry ice like vapor and paid an exceedingly stiff cover price to a diseased looking bouncer-type. He stamped Bennie’s hand and let me in through a thick, smelly wall of fish and chips, smoke and stale vagina. I liked it immediately.
The seat I chose was at a table that was closer to the bar than the stage. I planted my anus on the plastic chair, reveling in the wonderful newness of it all. I glanced around, noting the other patrons and what they were doing. As I’ve said, as soon as I saw things, they made perfect sense to me. It was like I just needed a catalyst to get me going. The other patrons were alternating looks between the stage in the distance and the small touch-screens imbedded in the tables before them. They seemed to all have their cash stacked on the table, and were using the screens to make their choices. Pussy on tap. How very convenient.
I placed my cash on the table top and peered at the screen. Apparently tonight was “Headliner/Amateur” night. The professionals were on the main stage, hence the steep cover, while the amateurs would work the lap-dance loop through the raucous bar crowd. There were plenty to choose from as far as lap-dancers went. The screen had pages of them. I was still gazing at the choices of women, boys, Halflings and whatnot when a server approached my table.
“Good evening,” she said with a smile that was only missing a few teeth. Speaking of which, Bennie’s were starting to pain up something awful. I might have to get them all pulled soon. I’ll start over with some implants, like the ones Uncle Elron had. Anyway, the server asked what was my pleasure.
“Are you running any specials tonight?” I asked with a big rotten toothy Bennie smile. The server glanced over her shoulder. She leaned in to me.
“Sugar, I can get you a gram of Uptown Girl, a lap dance of your choice and two double Sterno Ethanols for only two hundred Rupees. You pay me up front.”
“Sounds good, Love,” I replied and grabbed her hand.
“Hey!” she began with a shout and a grimace of pain.
I tugged her roughly down to me, “I may look nice, sweetheart, I may seem
to you like a mark, but I assure you, I’m not.”
“Ow, okay,” she said. She gazed into Bennie’s eyes and saw me. She believed. “Okay,” she repeated, understanding my intent.
“I’ll give you the whole two bills,” I said, “and you are going to bring me what you promised. Tout suite, gorgeous.” She just nodded, took the cash, and walked away rubbing her wrist.
I chuckled, feeling better now, and succeeding in forgetting Bennie’s dental woes for the time being. I looked at the screen at the available dancers. There was only the one choice for me: the red one. The screen said she would be available in a little bit.
The main stage got nice and dark and the server brought back my gram and cocktails. They were ice cold and on the rocks. You know, ice not being too hard to come by. She set them all down and as she turned with a pout to leave, I slipped a fifty note in her waistband. She stopped, fearfully, but smiled when she saw the nice tip.
“However,” I told her, “I do have my moments.”
The server left just as the music began to swell and the stage got lit. I decided to join it and slugged back the first drink in three big grimace-inducing gulps. I dumped the gram right onto the table top. I could hear the Headliner taking the stage as I rolled up a Rupee note and stuck it in the white pile. I snorted up as much as I could, as fast as I could, then tipped my index finger into the second cocktail. I sopped up most of the remaining powder, rubbing and numbing it liberally over Bennie’s choppers.
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