Dick Longg: Sexual Saviour of the Universe

by Mark Leigh

  ‘I’ve missed you’, Dick said, suddenly and awkwardly aware that it sounded a bit too familiar and even a bit too romantic; after all, he’d only met her a couple of times.

  ‘It’s good to see you again Jeremy’. Alice smiled and sat down facing him.

  In low tones, Dick told her about his time at work, being guarded about what he said in case any Party spies were nearby, watching or listening. Nothing was said about his meeting with Vera or the special project. Outwardly, this meeting must be seen as just two friends catching up on their news and making small talk. They ordered a light supper and Alice told him, in very general terms, about her own week. Dick learned that Alice worked in the administration and shipping department of a company that designed and manufactured ladies’ fashion accessories. A very modest and almost anonymous job he thought, but then again, one that was perfect cover for someone senior in the Resistance.

  Dick wondered what jobs other members held down. Were they all as low-key as hers so as to avoid undue attention? Or maybe some members had high-profile public positions on the basis that the Party would least suspect them. Had anyone infiltrated the Party like he was attempting to do? Then he remembered someone had; the other person brought forward in time. The other ‘One’ whose identity had been compromised and who had never been seen again. Dick was about to get maudlin again when Alice asked him if he wanted a lift home.

  Dick accepted the offer of a ride, paid the bill and exited with Alice into the cool night air in a slightly confused state. He wondered exactly what the point of this meeting was. He hadn’t passed any important information to Alice and she’d obviously been very careful with what she told him in case it compromised her real identity. He didn’t know her real name, which company she worked for or where it was located. In fact the only things he did learn was that the colour for parasols this season was lilac, and there was a possible shortage of ivory inlaid handles for umbrellas – neither of which seemed integral to the success of the Resistance unless, of course, she’d been talking in some sort of code that no one had bothered to explain to him.

  Alice’s hovercar was parked a block away and they walked there in silence, passing a policeman who tipped his hat in greeting. To say the hovercar sped off would be a severe overstatement. It rose slowly from the kerb and travelled at a smooth, sedate pace. A few seconds into their journey Alice operated a small switch hidden behind the dashboard and let out a sigh.

  ‘Now we can talk freely’, she said.

  ‘What do you mean?’, asked Dick.

  ‘I’ve just turned on the scrambler device’.

  ‘I don’t know what that is, but it sounds illegal’, Dick added.

  ‘Definitely’. Alice smiled. ‘All members of the Resistance have them fitted in their vehicles. It stops the Party eavesdropping on conversations. If they are listening in, all they hear is the noise of static as if their equipment is malfunctioning or there’s some form of electrical interference’.

  ‘Do you think hovercars are bugged?’

  ‘I’m sure some are’, replied Alice. ‘Probably at random but we can’t afford to take any chances’.

  ‘But if you’re under any sort of suspicion couldn’t the Party just tail you?’

  ‘Tail me?’

  ‘You know, follow you from a distance’, Dick explained.

  ‘They could do that, but in addition to the scrambler, I also have this device’.

  With that, Alice reached into her handbag and showed Dick an ornate hairbrush.

  ‘Very nice. Is that for making sure your hair looks good just before they stop you? What do you do with the the one phone call you’re allowed when arrested? Ring the salon to get some highlights?’

  Dick’s attempts at humour were completely lost on Alice.

  ‘Open the back’, she said.

  Dick examined the hairbrush and after a few seconds located a small, almost-hidden clasp. The back clicked open to reveal a small screen and flashing lights.

  ‘Some sort of tracking device’, Dick guessed, smiling. ‘The Resistance has been busy’.

  Alice told Dick that this detected the exact frequency on which the Party’s communications equipment operated and determined the proximity. That way Alice knew if the security forces were following her by road or foot. The silence of the device indicated they were safe so Alice carried out a planned detour that would take them to the Resistance HQ.

  ‘In the compartment ahead of you is a blindfold’, she said.

  Dick reached inside and put it on without complaint. ‘It’s OK. I know the drill’.

  ‘What drill?’ It was time for Alice to frown.

  Dick smiled. ‘It doesn’t matter’, he said, sinking low into his seat and closing his eyes behind the blindfold. ‘Just tell me when we get there’.

  About thirty minutes later Dick was aware of the hovercar gradually slowing and then stopping, the doors opening with a hiss. Alice helped him out. Wherever he was, it was quiet. There were no audible clues at all to indicate where he might be. Dick realised he had no way of telling whether the HQ was actually located half an hour away from when he first put the blindfold on, or even five minutes away. For all he knew Alice could have been driving around and around aimlessly for most of that time to confuse him. As Taylor had said, the Resistance couldn’t afford to take any chances.

  They entered an elevator, rode a few floors then exited, walked a bit further and entered another elevator. Alice had her arm through Dick’s to guide him and he began to feel aroused. He put this state down to a combination of factors. For a start, there was his natural, perpetual horniness. Then there was the gentle movement of the elevator and the effect this was having on his chaffing trousers. Plus of course the fact that he was wearing a blindfold and was helpless at the hands of a busty, attractive woman. If that wasn’t the start of a harmless fantasy then he didn’t know what was.

  Then a thought struck him. ‘You know you said the Resistance was careful’, he asked Alice. ‘Well how do they know that I don’t have some tracking device on me as well? They could have planted one on me without my knowledge and have been monitoring me even as we’re speaking’.

  ‘You haven’t’, Alice added confidently. I have a device on me that can detect that’.

  ‘Don’t tell me’, Dick said with more than a hint of sarcasm. ‘It’s hidden in your lipstick’.

  ‘No’, answered Alice. ‘It’s disguised as a broach. My lipstick contains a small homing beacon’. Before Dick could ask any more questions the elevator stopped with a shudder and the doors opened with a dull clang. Alice escorted Dick along a corridor. He was aware of turning two corners and then stopping. After a moment Dick heard a buzzer sound and after another moment he heard what he assumed was some sort of intricate locking mechanism. It was. Alice gently ushered him through an open doorway and removed his blindfold. Dick immediately rubbed his eyes to adjust to the familiar sight of the Resistance HQ closely followed by the other familiar sight of Taylor welcoming Alice back with a passionate embrace. So she was his girl. Dick was relieved he’d reached the headquarters safely but this positive feeling was tinged with a slight feeling of jealousy. Taylor and Alice separated. The Resistance leader regained his composure and smiled at Dick.

  ‘Welcome back’, he said, shaking Dick’s hand firmly. Dick looked at Alice and then looked back down at Taylor’s hand, thinking about Alice and where Taylor’s hand must have been on numerous occasions. Dick wanted to take this hand and smell it, right here, right now, licking each finger one by one to see if there was any residual taste of Alice on them, but then realised how odd and disturbing this would be. Instead he spluttered something about being glad to be back and just how much he had to tell them about his experiences to date.

  Taylor and Dick retired to the lounge area where a small crowd had gathered. Along with the familiar faces of Susan, Grace and Edward there was a rather stupid-looking older man named Humphrey. Taylor explained without any sense of irony that he worke
d in intelligence. It was his role to co-ordinate all the information the Resistance collated and try and make sense of it, in particular anything relating to the rumoured secret weapon which was being developed. Warmed by the fire and by brandy in his belly Dick told the group about everything that had happened to him since he had moved into his apartments and started at the Ministry. He told them about William, Mary, Vera, Benjamin, his other work colleagues and his recent report on prostitution. Humphrey nodded and made copious notes. Taylor nodded too, but this was the sort of nod that implied, ‘Yes, yes, I’ve heard all this before. Get on with it and tell me something I don’t know’.

  He demonstrated far more interest when Dick told them all about Project Gladstone, the secretive project Vera had entrusted him with. Project Gladstone was basically an exercise in entrapment. The Party had wanted to eliminate prostitution, both the ‘fallen women’ and their clients, but the problem had been identifying any of them. Most of the prostitutes plied their trade in the City, a relatively small but bustling commercial area in London’s East End. It was here that they’d find wealthy clientele in the banking, legal and insurance businesses while the busy, labyrinthine streets made the area extremely difficult to police. Yes, the Party was aware of certain haunts frequented by the prostitutes but it took a disproportionate and unacceptable level of police manpower on surveillance missions to arrest anyone caught soliciting.

  What was needed was a far more sophisticated method — which is how and why Project Gladstone came about. In Dick’s era this would have been known as a honey trap; using an attractive-looking woman posing as a prostitute as bait for unwary men whose minds were ruled not by their hearts, but by their groins. The Party had considered using some of its female members in this way but their time was deemed too precious to be used to round up a few sexual malcontents. Apart from the practical manpower issues Dick believed this plan had a fundamental flaw that had never been acknowledged; most female Party members were so unsexy and unglamorous it was doubtful whether they’d attract any men at all, no matter how sex-starved or desperate they were. So, given the shortage of women able or willing to pose as prostitutes, the Party approached the problem laterally. They made them.

  ‘Made what?’, asked Grace.

  ‘A number of super-realistic robots’, explained Dick.

  ‘What?’, enquired Humphrey, frowning. Dick guessed he’d never heard of ‘robots’ before. Of course, it could have been any of the words in his last sentence like ‘super-realistic’, ‘number’, or even ‘of’ — but Dick was almost certain it was the word ‘robots’.

  ‘You know, mechanical people’, explained Dick. ‘In this case, mechanical women that looked, walked, talked and for all I know, fucked like real women’. Dick looked around at a room of stunned faces. Even Alice who Dick had noticed was not the most expressive of people looked slightly shocked.

  ‘That’s incredible!’ exclaimed Taylor.

  ‘It’s hard to believe that they were so authentic that anyone would be fooled’, said Edward. ‘Nothing could ever be that realistic!’.

  ‘I’ve seen detailed pictures of the robots’, explained Dick. ‘And you’d really think they were actual fresh and blood. From all the information I’ve seen their skin was soft, their bodies were warm, their movements were fluid and they were all, how can I put it… anatomically correct’.

  Cue another frown from Humphrey.

  ‘He means they had holes in the places they should have holes’, Susan explained to her naïve colleague.

  ‘Exactly. I’m not sure whether anyone actually had sex with one of them, or what it might have been like, but I believe that technically it was possible’.

  ‘So on the surface’, said Taylor, ‘There was absolutely nothing to indicate that these women were actually non-human?’

  ‘Well actually, on the surface’, replied Dick, ‘There was something. There was a small code embossed on the right inner thigh of each of the girls. It’s a sort of serial number’.

  Taylor raised his eyebrows.

  ‘I know’, Dick responded. ‘It could have been placed anywhere. I think the engineers were in a state of permanent arousal working on this project and printing the serial number here would have been far more exciting than inscribing it somewhere more discrete, like on the soles of the girls’ feet or behind their knee caps’.

  Humphrey’s expression indicated that he doubted the whole story. ‘So there were mechanical harlots walking around trying to tempt sexually repressed men. That’s all well and good but how on earth did the Party catch any of them “in the act?”’

  ‘It was quite simple’, explained Dick. ‘The robots were programmed to send out a signal when they made contact with a customer. The security services would pick this up, trace their location — then pounce. The women would grasp and hold their clients until the police arrived. Despite their feminine looks they were very strong and could easily hold and subdue a man until he was arrested’.

  With his audience listening intently, Dick continued. ‘Fifteen mechanical prostitutes were produced and introduced about two years ago and in that time, nearly seventy men were arrested’.

  ‘That doesn’t seem like a lot’, Grace commented.

  ‘It isn’t’, said Taylor. ‘But it’s seventy men who, by seeking the prostitutes, demonstrated that they challenged the Party’s edict about sex and rebelled against it. These men might have joined the Resistance. It’s seventy extra supporters that we don’t now have.’

  ‘What happened to them?’, Susan asked.

  ‘I know this’, Dick said smugly. ‘It was in my report. They were given much higher monthly doses of sexual repressants in their injections to make them what the Party termed, ‘normal’…

  ‘Or they were killed’, added Taylor.

  ‘Killed? No way’, said Dick, shocked.

  ‘It won’t say that in your report, Dick, but it’s true. We know of a number of men that we’ve had under surveillance as potential members who’ve met with so-called “accidents”, or just disappeared’.

  Alice wasn’t as shocked as Dick was, but still looked perturbed on hearing this news.

  Taylor clenched his fists. ‘Remember that beneath its benign surface the Party is ruthless. Truly ruthless. That’s how it’s stayed in power so long and that’s how it intends to maintain this status quo’.

  ‘Which is why we have to crush and totally destroy this odious, evil regime’, Alice said.

  These words seemed incongruous coming out the mouth of someone who looked so innocent. Dick thought her delicate lips were better suited wrapped around his manhood rather than spouting anti-Party rhetoric. Alice was a riddle wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a hot body with great breasts, yet she didn’t give off any hint of sexuality in a way that Susan or even Grace did. You could tell these were women who were absolutely gagging for it. And if Dick hadn’t seen Alice’s obvious affection towards Taylor he’d be convinced that she wasn’t interested in men. But Dick’s instinct had never been wrong. There was definitely a sexual volcano ready to erupt under her serene exterior. He wanted to feel the tectonic plates move when they made love and experience the burning lava of her love juice. Dick thought that was quite a good metaphor, but then he would.

  With Humphrey still taking copious notes, Dick dropped his bombshell. A bombshell so unimaginably large that you could be in the deepest fallout shelter and still feel its impact. The fifteen robot prostitutes had recently gone ‘rogue’.

  It wasn’t that they had turned against the Party; it was just that they couldn’t be traced any more. An unknown fault meant that they were no longer emitting any tracking signal – but more importantly, nor were they capable of restraining their clients. This happened to all of the robots more or less around the same time, which implied some sort of inherent component failure. Dick strongly believed that the engineers should have spent more time on quality control than on creating a realistic artificial vagina.

  The Party therefore had
a situation on their hands where fifteen robot prostitutes were giving sexual pleasure to countless men, but they had no idea where they were operating. Worse still, it meant the prostitutes would continue providing this service until they powered-down, which would not be for another three or four years when their energy cells needed renewing.

  Dick’s task on the project was to try and find a way for these robots to be traced and decommissioned. The longer they were left to solicit customers, the more men would discover it was possible to be sexually fulfilled outside of marriage. The bigger implication of this was that these men would spread word of this to others who would then start questioning the Party and its policies. This, of course, could not be tolerated. Dick told his audience that the situation was so serious that the Leader himself was taking a very close personal interest in the project.

  ‘Would these robot things be the secret weapon we’ve heard the Party is developing?’, asked Edward.

  ‘It could be, but I doubt it’, said Taylor. ‘Even so, it gives an indication of their current technological abilities’. Turning to Dick he continued. ‘If you perform well on this project I’m sure you’ll be given greater responsibilities and possibly promotion. That means the chance to penetrate further within the Party’.

  Susan leant forward and whispered something in Taylor’s ear. Dick was sure he saw him blush slightly. Taylor whispered something back to Susan and the two of them exchanged a few comments in this way. At the end of this brief conversation Susan looked crestfallen.

  ‘What’s wrong?’, asked Dick.

  Taylor sighed before explaining. ‘Apparently this talk about penetration reminded Susan of something I mentioned to the Resistance when you first arrived’.

  ‘Taylor said you’d be able to educate us all about sex’, Susan explained. ‘I just asked him if you’d be able to give me… I mean us… a lesson this evening but Taylor said it was too short notice and that you would need more time to prepare’.