Bob’s Memoir: 4,000 Years as a Free Demon
73
Launch
“I STILL DON’T BELIEVE you’re a demon, Bob,” Sonia said. I had been one hundred percent truthful with her about my nature since the day I met her and she still wouldn’t accept that I was a demon.
“I don’t know what I could possibly do to convince you, my love. I’ve been completely honest with you.” She’d even been present when I was in full demon mode and carried the lifeless body of my priestess into the pool.
“Don’t try. I know you believe that is your nature. But I have seen more since becoming one of your women than any demon could possibly hope for.”
“What is that?”
“Bob, look out at this incredible world of Areola. I won’t say there are no arguments and no pain, but look. Everyone here is cared for. There is food for all. If something is needed, it can be found. There is good, healthful, and productive work for everyone. Even if it is not perfect, it is as near to a Utopia as any human dwelling is likely to be. You are not a demon, Bob. You are a god.”
That statement made me shiver. In my experience, gods get crucified. That’s what happened to Issa.
“Did you know that in the United States and in several other countries, including Japan, India, the UK, and Turkey, there is now a ‘Church of Bob?’ They profess to believe in you and offer the hope that you will take them to Areola where they will live happily ever after.”
“Oh, dear Zeus, no!” I said. “I don’t want a church. How can they offer something I have not offered? I’m not going to start moving people at random into Areola.”
“Do you think a visit to the churches would help? You could tell them outright that you aren’t sanctioning their religion.”
“My experience is that none of the gods actually sanction the religion that has grown up around their legends. Ninra, Isis, Athene, Aphrodite, Buddha, Issa, Mohammed, Confucius, Zeus, and now Bob. They were all called into existence by the devotees of the religion, not the other way around. And when the devotees cease to adhere to their principles, they close the gates on their world and fade away from even the memories of the churches and temples.”
“Well, you needn’t fear that in Areola. The world would cease to exist without The Bob. Now, make love to me again before the others get here for our celebration.”
The celebration was the start of the second season of To Boldly Go on the Hearthstone Celebration Entertainment Network. I’d received word that our original ship would be ready to launch at the end of the season and we’d be headed off earth, to safety at last.
We watched the first episode, that included the original crew sitting around like goddesses to decide who should be included in the second season competition. It included several different candidates, some of whom would be surprised to find they’d been considered. Those who were eliminated received a nice check for their screen time and I knew for a fact that some of them could really use that extra income. So, the first episode left everything open as to who would be selected. There would be more people introduced as the season went on. Our actual acceptance rate had been about one out of ten. It just wasn’t easy to find compatible harem members.
“I was so worried,” May said. “I wanted to like The Bob, but I’d fallen in love with Cleveland Bob and just didn’t know what to do. And then I couldn’t believe they were the same person. Do people still believe you do those persona changes with just makeup?”
“We may never know,” I said. “The capacity for people to not believe is beyond my ability to comprehend.”
That night, I had nine women in my bed, and Tommy. No, I didn’t screw Tommy—not this time. But the musician was surprised to find how completely he was accepted into the cast, including being accepted into several of their pussies.
It was a long night of celebrating and I indulged in a deep and sated sleep afterward.
“Bob. Bob!”
“Huh?” I said groggily. It had been an active and exhausting night satisfying all ten of my new crew. I rolled over and pulled a pillow over my head.
“Bob! Wake up!”
“Bob’s not here,” I muttered and went back to sleep.
“BOB!”
“What?” I growled sitting up in the big bed in the palace. The nine beauties and one man were still sleeping next to me. No one else was there.
“Bob, I need to talk to you.”
I’m not completely unfamiliar with head talk. My possessions and my wives, most notably, can carry on conversations with me in my head. But this didn’t sound like any of them. And they should be the only ones who could reach me in Areola.
“Who is this?”
“It’s Issa, Bob.” That gave me pause. I hadn’t seen Issa in 2,000 years, in spite of looking for him all through Asia.
“Right. Who is this really?”
“Really, Bob. It’s Issa.”
“How did you manage to reach me? Are you in Areola?”
“No. Areola, by the way. I like that name. It suits you.”
“Thanks, but…”
“Just listen up for a minute, would you? I don’t know how much time I have to talk. This connection is tenuous at best.”
“Okay, okay.” I wiggled my way out of bed and went into the magic room to have a private head-to-head talk with my old friend Issa.
When Issa and I traveled from Mesopotamia to India, we had a great time together, sharing about life and philosophy. He called me ‘brother’ and that made me feel special. We shared a lot with each other as we drifted along in a gentle breeze that seemed to move our craft always toward where we needed to go. He taught me a lot about the philosophy of Buddha and tried to teach me to turn water into wine. That was a disaster. If he turned water into wine, I could replicate his bottle and get the same results. But fill my bottle with water and let me try to turn it into wine and it wasn’t drinkable. I might have inadvertently killed some fish when I poured it overboard.
He couldn’t teach me to heal, either, though he acknowledged that my infinity room seemed to have healing powers and to keep people there forever young. He said it had to do with the primordial mass I spoke of having been created from.
“The Jews just called it mud,” Issa said. “Or if you go way back, they referred to earth and water as being ‘without form and void.’ It might be that the people taken from the natural world to your infinity room are separated from the primordial mass in some way but the people born there are part of your world’s mass. The mass from which you create things in that world.”
I still didn’t understand how the infinity room worked, but I shared the spells with him that I’d used to create it and to open a gateway. He wanted to practice, but there was no convenient container to put an infinity room in, so he put off working the spell until he had a good place to do it.
I was really sad to see him go when he headed up the Indus and I continued down the west coast of India. But he said it wasn’t good for two of our kind to be in the same place for too long. A couple of centuries later I tried to find him and kept finding traces of where he’d been, but couldn’t locate him.
“Let me in, Bob,” he said when I’d settled into the magic room to converse with him.
“In where? Where are you?”
“Behold I stand at the door and knock.”
“Oh, Jesus!”
“Your front door, Bob. The door to the swanky mansion in Beverly Hills. Let me in before I attract the attention of the cops.”
I opened a gateway to the mansion and ran to the front door. There was a shriveled bald man there, walking with a long stick.
“Issa?” I asked. He nodded. “Well, come in. Come in. Let me get us some wine.” We went into my study and I opened a bottle of Goídel Glas’s finest. When I turned back to him, I found a man about thirty, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. He looked a lot more like Issa than the old man at the door.
“I’ve been in the country on a diplomatic tour and decided to stop by to see you when I saw your first episode air last night.”
“Diplomatic tour? On whose behalf?”
“Oh, they ask me to come around occasionally because the Dalai Lama is still respected as a leader of Buddhism.”
“You’re the Dalai Lama? Come on. I came through Tibet a few centuries ago and met the Dalai Lama and he wasn’t you.”
“No. Of course not. I was sorry to miss you, though. I only ever serve one lifespan at a time. Then I switch it off to various others so I can go into my own infinity room and have a rest for a couple of generations.”
“So, you did create one. I probably walked right by it and didn’t know it was there.”
“That’s true, but it was still too early for us to meet face to face. I was still getting organized. Prester John has always been a little pigheaded about how things should be run. And Mary is still giving me advice on dealing with people.”
“John the Baptizer?”
“No, Bob. That John died. I haven’t raised anyone from the dead. The one time I tried, the guy stunk to high heaven and he died again a year later. I won’t put anyone else through that. John my disciple was the last of the apostles still alive when I finally found him on Patmos. He was near to being a raving lunatic from the isolation. You should have seen some of the things he’d written.”
“I read Revelation.”
“That was just the part I let remain. The rest of his writings were completely off the wall insane. I figured Revelation would give people something to worry over for a few thousand years.”
“And Mary?”
“My beloved. I’d given her directions on where to meet me, so as soon as she could separate herself from the disciples, she made her way to me in India. Would have been a miserable eternity without her!”
“That I understand. Without Nimia, I’d have been lost more than once.”
“You’ve got a treasure there.”
“So, what brought you to see me? You’re not upset about that preacher I got rid of, are you? He was possessed and had no desire to shake the demon within him. Now that fellow was truly ugly.”
“No. You know how I feel about killing things, but I don’t see any way you could have redeemed the situation. I came to talk about your show and what you plan to do.”
“So, you’re a fan, too?”
“No. I just caught the first episode of season two last night. You always were a ladies’ man. This has to do with you taking the infinity room—or Areola—with you into space and leaving forever.”
“You want to come along? Bring your infinity room and we’ll sail off into the big black.”
“I can’t. And neither can you.”
“What?”
“You can’t leave, Bob.”
“Issa, I’ve been planning this for years. It’s the best solution. I can finally go into the room and not worry about anything outside.”
“You don’t get it, Bob.” For some reason, he sounded like Zeus telling me how to keep a palace cool millennia ago. Same frustration.
“I guess not,” I admitted.
“Areola is not in your bag. It’s a different dimension of earth that is different, but compatible. No matter how far you send the bag into space, Areola is still here,” he said.
I should have known that. Even when I started opening gateways from other locations, I still thought of Areola as being in the bag stuck in an evidence container someplace in the bowels of the FBI building. Like that movie Raiders of the Lost Ark. Or maybe they’d taken it to Area 51. It just didn’t compute with me that it was tied to earth in some way.
“You can carry around a bag as a crutch, but you can open a gateway to and from it anywhere. It exists in the same time and space as the natural world.”
I was beginning to get a headache and poured another glass of wine, which I downed before I answered.
“So, Areola is One with All.”
“And All is Nothing,” Issa repeated. “We can have what appears to be eternal life in our infinity rooms, but in reality, when earth fades back into the primordial mass, so will our alternate dimensions. I believe, however, that attempting to separate and go off into space would separate you from the mothership and that might be catastrophic for both Areola and the natural world. It would most certainly return you all to the primordial mass.”
“Well, shee-it. That kind of puts a damper on things. Our whole intent is to culminate the last episode with our launch into space. The ship is almost ready.”
“Here’s what you do…” For a minute there, he sounded just like Doug. No. I knew Doug was asleep with Avril in a room of the palace.
Issa outlined a plan for me to go ahead and blast off with the crew and everyone, then to just open a gateway into Areola and disappear from the ship. He said leaving a satchel behind on the ship would be a great inside joke. I wouldn’t even need to tell anyone that we weren’t traveling into the deep. No one in Areola would know the difference.
“Knowing you, though, you’ll keep popping back into the natural world for another four millennia, just to see how the human story turns out. That’s what I’ve been doing. That, and I’ve been shopping for other residents for Eden. You must know how difficult it is to find people in the natural world you want to spend eternity with.”
“I haven’t had that much problem. And you have millions of followers around the world. It can’t be that hard to find true believers for your kingdom. Eden, you say? I have to say, it’s more original than Areola,” I said.
“Fitting names for both our kingdoms. You’ve met Christians. How many of them would you want to spend eternity with? I’ve decided to cut off the total at 144,000. I thought John was crazy when he proposed that number, but I’m still several thousand away. Which brings me to another matter.”
“Whatever you want, Issa. What can I do for you?” I asked.
“In your most recent raids, I found a few people who I’d looked at and would like to take to Eden. I can still hear their prayers crying out to me. Let me take those few people from Areola to Eden where I can care for them.”
“Of course! Anyone who wants to go with you will be welcome to emigrate. Why don’t you come with me and choose the people you want?”
“You know, I’ve always wanted to visit your place. Is it true that the priestesses of Aphrodite will do anything with a man?”
We chatted on as I opened a gateway to visit the refugees.
We had a boatload of work to do to get ready for the season finale. Part of the process was dealing with our construction of the new space station/starship. As soon as it became known we were in negotiations with the US regarding ownership of the ship, a dozen other countries wanted in on the deal. We finally put a structure in place that would continue Space Pioneers as the majority shareholder, but would sell shares to other countries. By letting everyone know that The Bob would continue to be in charge of the construction and management, the shareholding countries were reduced to participation according to the number of shares they purchased. And we strictly limited the maximum number of shares any country could own, so they couldn’t just buy everyone out.
I knew that wouldn’t last forever as the idiots who govern the world’s nations would constantly be in contention with each other over who got the best deal, the most seats, and highest prestige. The structure wouldn’t be ready for habitation for five years and not ready to move from orbit for another five after that. There could be an entirely different world order by then. It was why I was devoted to leaving.
Of course, after my meeting with Issa, I had to keep secret that we weren’t actually going to leave. I needed a simulator in Areola that was so exactly like the real thing that no one would know they weren’t actually viewing the real thing. We scheduled five launches that day from different bases that would carry supplies to the construction site. One of those ships would continue into space. It would look like we were on it.
“Are you really going to launch toward Mars with Space Pioneer 17 the day the mini-series concludes?” my favorite interviewer asked. Elaine Frost dominated the late-night TV schedule. I was always happy to be on her show.
“We will be launching five missions at the same time, Elaine. We will keep the details secret as to what is on each of the ships as they launch. This is to protect the crew and the groundcrew from danger. We don’t mind protests, but we want people kept safe. In fact, I’m told we have full facilities for a large crowd at our Houston headquarters where people can come to protest in relative comfort. There will be cooled tents, restroom facilities, food vendors, and medical aid available. I encourage people to use that location for their protests as others are considerably more remote and unable to handle large crowds.”
“You’re being awfully friendly to protesters.”
“It’s a right and a privilege. Really, we just don’t want anyone hurt.”
“So, what can you tell us about the selection process that is going on in your show. Are you really going to take even more women with you to Mars?”
“The season was created because our ship wasn’t ready at the close of the last season. We thought we’d be gone by now. But the selection has included much more than the entertainment you see on the show. We finished recording the season a few weeks ago and everyone selected has been undergoing rigorous training since that time. Everyone who boards the ship will be ready to fly,” I said.
“Is there room?”
“By this time, everyone knows that I have portal technology that I use to cross back and forth into my home, Areola. Once aboard the ship, I will open a portal to our home and everyone will return to Areola to make the trip in relative comfort. I’ll leave a portal on the ship so that when we land, we can transport back to the ship.”
“I mean, is there room for me?”
“Oh, Elaine, how I wish you had applied. I understand, however, that our network affiliation would be damaged by that move.”
“Well, it was worth a try. Any other hints you can give us?”
“Just one. The final episode of To Boldly Go will be intensely graphic and is not meant for people with a weak constitution. It is both a grueling test of the finalists and an explicit message for people who persist in thinking they can get away with human trafficking. We will find you and eliminate you.”
“That sent shivers down my spine. I can’t wait for the last episode. Safe journey, Bob, and to all you contestants who are or were vying for a place on Bob’s ship of dreams.”
Even with the frequent warning, I don’t think anyone was truly prepared for what we showed in the final episode. We had surveillance footage from Lacy’s frequent trips to scout the locations and that I had taken when the two of us surveyed the sites. Then we had brief footage of our team of ninjas and the rescue with a scrolling tabulation of how many traffickers died in each location, how many people were rescued, and what our losses were. Finally, it showed me in full demon mode releasing my priestess into the primordial mass.
It concluded with me in my office, looking like a human and saying, “We may journey to the farthest stars, but we will still eliminate trafficking in humans wherever we find it. If you believe you can continue to trade in human beings anywhere in this world, I encourage you to live each day as if it were your last. Believe me. One of them soon will be.”
I stood from my desk and grabbed my satchel.
“If you’ll excuse me now, I have a flight to catch.” I opened a gateway and stepped through.
We ported directly to my simulator and the screens all came to life with our ground control prepared for launch. The countdown was synchronized at our five launch pads around the world and while the whole crew ‘boarded,’ we showed most of them turning into the gateway in the cabin and disappearing back to Areola. They were all dressed in the sexiest possible spacesuits we could design. My family came through as well. Then we buckled five from my original crew into seats. The capsule was obviously much smaller than what we’d displayed in simulations during the first season. That was part of why the ship had been delayed. They simply couldn’t lift a ship with all the people I wanted on it.
Of course, it would throw the world into a confusion of debate as they argued about whether any of it was real. I planned to cycle the twenty-one crew members through the flight deck after we launched so they could all get a feel for flying, even though none of us would ever be on the ship that was heading out of orbit. The only thing on that ship was a bag and a camera.
The five rockets launched in sync and docked with the construction site in sync. Robots unloaded the cargo and moved it to the proper places. We were still supplying Areolium for the construction in space and the robots were working well. Soon, shuttles would begin carrying people to the station to do more of the work. That would be interesting to watch.
As far as a launch of a spaceship, it was all pretty routine. Even the protests were pretty calm. We served wine and cheese and showed the launch on jumbotrons at the office.
“Space Pioneer 17, this is India Control. We have logged your separation from the construction site and you have entered orbit. Everything is looking clear.”
“Like, Bob, you know, they‘re ready in India for you to insert yourself and get ready to like, really blast off,” Wendy said in her valley girl voice.
“Thank you, India Control,” I said. I nodded to Wendy. She grinned.
“India Control,” she said in a perfect duplicate of the accent of our partner, “Captain Bob says thank you. You know he doesn’t always speak our language clearly. But I will get him up and into orbit when you signal. I think I see his rocket getting ready to blast now.” There was laughter through the speakers.
“I hope we can follow along when it is next time to trim your tail,” the guy laughed.
“Space Pioneer 17, this is launch central. We log you as thirteen minutes until you approach the departure point from your orbit to the route for Mars. Second stage rockets will fire in twelve minutes and twenty-eight seconds.”
“Copy, launch control. This is Space Pioneer 17 and we are comfortably relaxing until orbit departure. You could send the flight attendants in with drinks and snacks now,” I said.
“Bob, you don’t really have flight attendants on board with you, do you?” our startled launch coordinator asked. He no longer knew what to think or what was real.
“Well, not that we’ll let get out of their seats before we leave orbit and head toward Mars. This weightless stuff is going to take some getting used to.”
“Affirmative, Captain Bob. All systems have been checked and conditions are go.”
We waited until we felt the acceleration from the rockets pushing us out of orbit. In the simulator, it was a simple matter of increasing or decreasing the gravity, which I did with the ley lines underlying Areola’s surface.
“That’s all there is to see here, folks,” I said. “Let’s head for Areola and dinner.”
“Woohoo. Space travel is fun and all, but I’m ready to lie by the pool,” Artemisia said. The five of us unfastened ourselves and I opened the gateway to Areola. Artemisia, Wendy, Mia, and May stepped through into a completely normal Areola next to the pool. I turned and waved at the camera, then closed the portal, leaving the satchel with the camera trained on it. It was a simple matter from there to switch to the camera on the actual ship, also focused on the bag.
We were free.
Like Issa told me, I can’t keep my fingers out of the natural world for long. We were free in Areola and it wasn’t long before people there began forgetting about our mission to Mars, the television show, and other things of the natural world. I figured I’d pop in and out every few years, possibly to manage the continuation of my holdings and partly to check on the condition of things. I figured we would be making some more raids in the future.
You see, I had a contact doing the scouting for me. Lil was a sexy young society girl in London who knew the ins and outs of everything, it seemed. As well she should. She’d once been the Queen. She’d staged her death and managed to escape and return to her demon form, which had been created specifically to please the eighteenth century mage who conjured her.
She’d set about creating her own network of spies who had spread out across the world. And they were looking for any sign of trafficking. Having essentially been created as the mage’s sex doll, Lil was well acquainted with being a sex slave. She hated the trade as much as I did and had often made sure my tracks were covered when we made a raid.
Now she was sending me information. I had every intention of carrying out additional raids so that the traffickers would know that the launch of our ship didn’t change anything as far as my resolve to end the traffic.
And, in fact, my resolve was not ended. Very little had changed other than I spent less time in the Natural World. I was busy in Areola. I had five wives, five possessions, fifty-one priestesses, twenty-one crew members, and more concubines coming in and out of the palace than I could count. I spent almost as much time in bed, satisfying the needs of my women, as I did being useful in Areola.
Why not? After all, our entire power grid was based on sexual energy. I was just doing my part.
The End
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