The Original Sex Gates

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The Original Sex Gates Page 12

by Darrell Bain


  During one interval, I watched in fascination as Rita eagerly accepted Donna's ministrations, then returned them in kind. The one incident I knew of where Rita had been to bed with a woman was the one I mentioned earlier and she had never expressed a desire to repeat it, though admitting to liking the experience. Now, she couldn't seem to get enough. She especially seemed to enjoy every chance she had to get her hands and mouth on Donna's breasts, fondling and kissing them and taking the nipples into her mouth like a hungry baby.

  In case you're thinking I was left to my own devices most of the time, that wasn't true. Like any man, I had to pause and recover from time to time while they had no such problem. Donna still hadn't gotten rid of a lot of her male mannerisms, even in bed. She tended to be more aggressive than most women I had been with (not that many, I hate to admit), and tended to assume the dominant role more often than not, both with Rita and myself. I can't say I minded. Given my mediocre looks, I've never been big on the male macho thing. Even so, what male wouldn't enjoy an extremely attractive woman practically raping him? I submitted to whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, and Rita usually joined in. Rita had never been one of those submissive little southern belles who always waited on the man to make the first move (an obsolescent character trait anyway), but I think even she was learning things.

  When both of them attacked me at once, it made me think there really might be a God; with Rita moving her lips slowly and sensually down over my penis and Donna laying on my chest with one of her breasts tucked in my mouth and the other in my hand, I could almost believe I had died and gone to heaven. When I finally fell into a thoroughly satiated sleep, they were still going at it.

  ***

  We had all been so glad to see each other the night before, we hadn't discussed much about our arrest, other than the mechanics of it. Around the breakfast table the next morning, Russell tried to help me remember some of the questions I had been asked. All I could recall was vague voices coming to me from what seemed like a great distance.

  "There's something peculiar going on," he said, as if we hadn't already been given ample demonstration of the fact.

  "Yeah. They're treating Doctor Renfrow as if he had changed into one of your little green Martians while he was in the gate," I said.

  "What little green men?" Rita and Seyla asked at the same time.

  "Science fiction reference," Donna said. I had let her borrow the book from Grandpa's library after I read it, back before the gates happened.

  The two other women exchanged a look as if a jock had tried unsuccessfully to explain an arcane sports rule to them.

  Russell's brow creased in a frown. "You know, maybe that's what they do think."

  "That he turned green? Come on, Russ, be serious," I said.

  "Not green, but I am being serious. I'll bet there's something about him that has the government upset. Maybe they believe he turned into an alien after that second trip through the gate."

  "He looked normal, according to his son," I reminded him.

  "A spayed cat looks normal on the outside, too, but that doesn't mean it is."

  I shrugged. "Whatever, I've been told to leave it alone. That's enough for me; I don't want to ever go to jail again. One experience was enough to last me a lifetime."

  "They won't be able to keep it secret," Russell declared. "Scientists talk. I'll find out what it's all about before the week is out."

  I had to agree with him there. The government may be able to cancel web or network programs they disagree with, but web communications between individuals are impossible to control, let alone censor.

  ***

  Russell was on campus the next several days. Seyla was with him part of the time; either that, or attending her classes. It gave Rita, Donna and I a lot of time to explore our three-way relationship. I asked Rita once what it was about Donna which had induced her into the sexual relationship.

  "Don't tell me you're against it," she said, smiling at me.

  "Not at all. Just curious." I was, too.

  "Well, I probably can't satisfy your curiosity, but let's put it like this: I always cared about Don, partly because I loved you so much and he was your friend, but mostly because he was such a nice person in his own right. Then, when Donna changed her sex and fell in love with you, I naturally got even closer to her."

  "Why closer?"

  "I told you once, women in love will do crazy things. Two women in love with the same man, who happen to be close friends, are more likely to become even friendlier rather than fight over him like men would do in the reverse situation. Besides, it's not all that unusual a thing nowadays."

  Well, I knew that. Once the threat of venereal diseases lessened so much, a hedonism not seen since the halcyon days of the flower children of the last century had come into being. Three-way relationships engaged in openly weren't that uncommon, and were perfectly legal, though still fairly rare.

  "I just never suspected you were inclined that way," I said.

  "Oh, chips. I'm not 'that way', as you put it. I just love Donna, that's all."

  "Doesn't that amount to the same thing?" I asked her. It seemed to me it did.

  "No. I'm talking about one woman, not women in general. Besides, women have been loving each other since we came down out of the trees. It's just that recently, our culture reached a level where it can be expressed more or less openly, and not necessarily in a physical sense. Why do men always have to think of women in terms of sex?"

  "Because you're sexy, I guess," I said.

  Rita bowed her head with laugher. "Lee, you're so typically male, I should write a paper on you." She put an arm around my neck to let me know there was no approbation to the statement. Thinking how lucky I was, I touched her lips.

  My curiosity wasn't quite satisfied, though. Thinking quickly over what she had said, I asked, "What about Seyla? Are you going to fall in love with her, too?"

  "Now what brought that up?"

  "Well, you know Donna slept with Seyla night before last when Russell was gone," I said. Russell and Seyla's relationship had quickly developed into openly displayed affection around the house. They slept together when he was there. Yet Donna had gone to her own bed last night. Did Russell know? Were Seyla and Donna still in love as they had been when Donna was male? I couldn't figure out all the nuances of the various relationships, especially the way they had changed so rapidly lately. It wasn't that I minded; I just didn't want to see either Russell or Seyla get hurt, not to mention, Donna or Rita.

  Rita mussed my hair and smiled enigmatically. "Don't worry about it. One of these days when you're old and gray and decide to go through a gate, you'll discover more about women than you ever thought possible."

  I left it at that. I didn't tell her that I wasn't planning on going through a gate when I got old. I liked being male too much, especially right now.

  ***

  It worked out just as Russell said it would. One evening, ten days or so after our arrest, he came home from school with a big grin on his face. He grabbed Seyla, kissed her thoroughly, then still keeping an arm around her waist, said, "Gather 'round, folks, I've got some news!"

  He drew Seyla into his lap as he sprawled tiredly into the depths of the big easy chair. He took her drink from her and drained it.

  "Must be important," I said. I refilled Seyla's glass from the pitcher of Rum Whatnot we had been drinking, added one for him and topped off mine and the other girls' drinks. We all leaned forward eagerly.

  "Remember that doc who went through the gate twice, then got arrested by the Secret Service?" He paused dramatically, then went on. "They didn't get a damn thing out of him! Veronal, scopolamine, pentothal, hypnosis, you name it, they came up blank! And it finally got out, just like I told you it would. The web is warping with the story!"

  I didn't get it. "What's the big deal if he doesn't know anything, other than he managed to come out of a gate twice?"

  "The big deal is none of the drugs had any effect on him
. It was like trying to question a catatonic. He never said word one. Not only that, some government lab he was taken to tested him physically forty ways from zero. He's perfectly normal and human; gene analysis matches his previous identity exactly, allowing for the elimination of some detrimental recessives, which probably happened during his first transition."

  "Have they let him go?" Maybe I could get that interview now.

  "Nope, but they probably will, eventually. The private lines are talking about a couple of other similar cases. One of them was kinda cute. This Arab woman sneaked out of her house, bribed a guard and went through a gate. Naturally, she turned into a male. The way the story reads, her husband got so chipped off, he grabbed her and tossed her back into the gate. She came right back out, a woman again."

  "I'll bet she's mad as hell," Rita said.

  "That's not the story we're getting. She didn't seem to mind at all and went right along with the questioning; no resistance, just like our case. She didn't talk, either."

  "Could this be the beginning of a trend?" Donna asked. She seemed interested but not anxious. I think she was beginning to enjoy being a woman by then.

  "I doubt it, though it's a little early to tell yet. Statistically, ninety-nine point et cetera percent of everyone who has tried a second passage never comes back. Even if it is a trend, at this rate, it will take years to gather enough of a statistical universe to understand why a few make it but the vast majority don't. Shucks, we don't even know why some don't come back from the first attempt."

  "There's still something peculiar about this," I said. "Whoever heard of a person able to clam up under Veronal Plus? I sure couldn't!"

  "Name me one thing that isn't peculiar about the gates," Russell challenged. "This is just one more puzzle to add to all the others."

  I nodded my head, conceding the fact. "So what else have you heard?"

  "Probably not much that you haven't. Our funding got cut, though."

  "How come?"

  Russell waved the hand holding his drink. "Something about Congress not being able to come up with the money next year. We're going on half rations now so we can keep operating if that turns out to be the case."

  "I would think the government would have plenty of money right now, what with not having to pay out so much in Social Security or Medicare," Seyla said.

  "You haven't been keeping up with the news," I said. "What they've saved, they've spent on the military, gate research and the space program."

  "Yeah, isn't that great?" Russell said. "After all this time, they've finally decided to fund every kind of space research and production imaginable. Hell, they're even talking about reviving the Nerva and Orion projects."

  None of the women knew what he was referring to. I might not have if I hadn't been such a science fiction buff. Nerva and Orion were both nuclear propelled rocket projects cancelled way back in the last century because of "safety" concerns, just like the environmentalists and penny pinchers had managed to kill the Supersonic Transport plane and the Super Cooled Super Collider project-even while spending billions upon billions for useless programs that never worked, or giving it away to other nations in the name of security.

  "If that's the case, Washington must really be swinging toward the alien origin of the gates," I said.

  "That's what I hear, though what purpose our dinky little space programs will serve compared to the gate technology, I have no idea."

  "Can I quote you as an 'informed source' on this?" I asked. Mary was agitating for another piece from me after the last one had been pulled.

  "Hell, you can quote me by name if you want to. Scientists are webbing all over the place about it, for and against."

  "Which position do you favor?"

  "Oh, well, I say go for it. For all we know, the gates may disappear tomorrow and we'd be that far ahead at least. If the damn dumb politicians had spent the money in the first place, we'd have so much industry in space by this time, we could support every fourth worlder on earth, whether they ever worked a lick or not."

  I agreed. Democratic representation may have many good things to be said for it, but foresight isn't one of them.

  Russell poured himself another glassful of our rum mix. "Well, that's my scoop for the day. What are you folks hearing?"

  I wondered whimsically whether anyone in the physics department ever turned on anything other than science programs. If they did, you couldn't prove it by Russell.

  "Men are beginning to outnumber women, in this country anyway, and probably in most others, regardless of what they're saying. If that keeps up, the gates may wind up solving the overpopulation problem," Rita said.

  "Messilinda's Gate Church is still gaining converts. They've gone national and are beginning to pick candidates to run in the next election," I said.

  "I wish they'd go duck their heads in a bucket of water," Russell commented. "How can people believe in that nonsense?"

  "The same way they've been believing ever since the Neanderthal age," Seyla said gently. "Everyone isn't as rational as you are, dear." She leaned further back in his lap.

  "Or lack the belief gene," Rita added.

  "Yeah, but damn all-"

  I laughed. "Russ, we must have gone over this a thousand times since we were kids. It's just that most people can't accept the fact of their own demise or live without thinking there's a purpose or reason for their existence. Why bring it up again?"

  "For one thing, if those damn Gaters have their way, there wouldn't be any more scientific research. They think the gates have all the answers to the inscrutable."

  "I doubt it will go that far," I said.

  "I hope not," Russell said. He yawned. "Tell me the rest in short sentences. I'm ready for bed." He finished his drink, emptying the pitcher in the process. He didn't go to bed, though. Rita made another batch of Rum Whatnot. We wound up finishing that pitcher and polished off two more as well. Nothing uses up alcohol faster than a gab session by college students.

  It would seem as if the country (and the rest of the world) should be learning to live with the presence of the gates by this time, but that wasn't the case, anymore than the country had ever compromised on the abortion issue or the everlasting racial problems, not to mention, religion and politics. We have always been a fractious country and the gates just gave more ammunition to the divisions.

  There were several main factions contending for control of the gates (or for the power to form policy about them). First, there was Messilinda's rapidly growing Church of the Gates (though it took her a few days to come up with an explanation of why God had rejected a few of the heaven bound). They wanted us to worship the sex gates and ascend into heaven after the first rejuvenation ran out. They were opposed to any form of research on the gates and most other forms of research, especially of a scientific nature. Then there were the other religions, where varying beliefs about abortion, birth control, homosexuality and whose prophet was right kept them at one another's throats.

  There was the thirty or forty percent or so of the elderly who wanted nothing to do with the gates and used the wealth and power they had accumulated over their lifetimes to try and restrict access to them, or at the very least to circumscribe the rejuvenated youngsters' legal rights.

  The fourth world population was hungry and penniless and getting more so each day. They were demonstrating (or rioting) for jobs and a return to government handouts.

  The military continued their build-up, expecting war at any moment with various countries opposing our official gate policy, which amounted to not much more than leave the theoretical aliens controlling the gates alone, and maybe they will leave us alone; that, plus the guarantee (which was getting rather shaky) of access to the gates for everyone who wanted to try and pass through.

  The local militias, both official and unofficial, were arming anew against an invasion or uprising; whether by aliens, Arabs, Chinese or our own citizens depended on the local viewpoint and political philosophy they adhered to (I
should have paid more attention to that last item).

  Daily, the tabwebs got more and more hysterical about the supposed alien menace behind the gates. When the news got out about the extremely rare second passage individuals being resistant to drug interrogation, they really went wild.

  Unemployment in the medical professions and allied industries was eating into the Banking Institute's cash reserves as jobless persons drew out their savings or borrowed against their credit limits. There had already been a number of bank failures.

  Taxes were being raised locally and nationally to pay for added security. Nothing new there. That sort of thing started somewhere around the time of the Roman Empire, or perhaps earlier.

  North Mexico, Puerto Rico and Hawaii were all threatening to succeed from the union and the Texas legislature was close to having enough votes to exercise their constitutional right to split into five states.

  To top it all off, the National Geographic article Edie had shown me finally began getting a lot of play on the webs and 'works. Most of the governors and mayors of threatened areas were demanding the national government begin building inland cities for the population threatened with displacement.

  That last item was what used up most of the rum. I told the others about Dad's offer for us to move into Grandpa's house as soon as the renovation was finished.

  "I'm for it," Donna said immediately. She was stretched out on the long lounger with her head in my lap while Rita sat upright next to me. I was resting one hand on her breast and squeezed it gently in appreciation. I had already thought a great deal about moving and had come to the conclusion it was probably a good idea.

  "Me, too," Rita said. "I don't like the mood the country is in, and I think it's likely to get worse before it gets better. That's not even considering the rise in sea levels, and we know that's going to continue."

 

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