Walkthrough
Chapter Fourteen
Almost two years ago, my friends and I were frantically trying to keep my mom alive on our kitchen table. I still have nightmares about it, but I wake up and mom is sleeping peacefully beside me. I’ve been able to tame her needs by routinely redirecting her programming while she’s Too Blue. From my tests, it appears to be working… a little. Enough that I feel I can safely go back to college. I’ve floated the idea of returning to medical school past mom and Sophia, and they are both very supportive.
Kiko has blossomed living with Master Yasuda. He gives her an anchor. He gives her an identity, but mostly he gives her hope. I visit them on Sundays, when they walk in their Kimonos in the Asia Section of the National Botanical Garden.
Wade’s programming did not curse Kiko with a desire to stay drunk in the same way as the rest of Wade’s slaves. Fortunately, when he brainwashed Kiko, most of the instructions didn’t make it through translation.
She stood a little over five feet tall, but stunning none-the-less in her elaborate silk Kimono. Her hair had grown long enough to wear it up in a traditional do, displaying her Japanese-style cobra tattoo. It was a breathtakingly beautiful four colored terror that covered her neck and shoulders.
“Kiko cobra has blue eyes, just like you.”
Then, in a burst of excitement, she told me about her trip to Japan and cried, recalling her bitter-sweet reunion with her family. They had been told street gangs had killed her. She couldn’t say anymore, but wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight.
“Forgive me, but they gave me credit for saving their daughter. I took it because explaining the truth would be unnecessarily cruel,” said Master Yasuda.
Before I could answer, he said, “There is something else. They have given me their blessing to marry Kiko, but I feel I should ask you as well.”
“Of course, you are my family.”
Master Yasuda, who insists that I call him Sonny, melted into a blushing, happy school-boy.
“You know, she won an international karate championship in Taiwan, and the IWMMA voted her the world’s deadliest woman,” he said in his exuberance.
To me, it seemed a little odd to be so happy about marrying the deadliest woman in the world,
“Hi mom,” I said answering my phone as I walked across the parking lot of Boston U’s Medical School.
“Todd, you’re never going to guess what,” she said, giggling. I imagine she is half drunk, or having sex and talking on the phone. Perhaps it’s both.
“What?” I said, smiling at my mother’s bubbling happiness.
“Amy finally finished her school. Sophia is, oh my, MMM, aaaah, Sophia is so happy that Amy is finally coming home. Can you please be here when she shows up? It would mean the world to your mother and me.”
“You’re my mother.”
“Oops, I’m not thinking straight, sorry. This isn’t how I wanted this to come out, but we’ve been talking. We want you to think of Sophia as your mom too, as in we want to get married. If that’s okay?”
“As long as you’re happy mom… mom… mom?”
“nnnnaaaaaannnaaaa aaah aaah aaahh oh oh oh good God... I’ll call you back.”
I hung up, looking around guiltily to see if anyone had overheard my phone call, when my phone rang again.
“Wow, are you done cumming your brains out already?”
“Pardon?” said the deep masculine voice on the other end.
“I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
“This is Ali, Mr. Dearborn. I wanted to call you and express my eternal gratitude.”
“Ali! It’s you! I can’t believe it. Oh man, have I got stories to tell you. There were explosions and guns and sex crazed women and… and you know what? Aggie, um, Agnon 2K worked great… well, she did. Can you reboot her?”
“Mr. Dearborn, it is I who have stories for you. There was no app called Agnon 2K. That was my team of behavioral scientists. Over the years we have collected data on Romeo Company and their families, giving us enough information to forecast their probable actions accurately under known inputs.”
“What?”
“We used probability to predict your life, Mr. Dearborn.”
“So there was no Aggie?”
“No, that was my team giving you prompts in real time. I should tell you we have all become very fond of you. They want me to express their best wishes for your success.”
“Success! What success? General Whatcom and Connie are dead! James and Donita are dead. They nearly beat my mother to death because of this!”
“Mr. Dearborn, you have my deepest sympathy. We are sorry for your losses, but you should know that Wade had planned to kill everyone, except Amy, including you. So, we had to choose the path that promised the best chance of success. Saving your friends would have ultimately cost everyone their lives.”
“That is what war is,” said Ali in a somber tone. “… Loss, even when you win. Every young man in Iraq, every young man in the whole Middle East, every young man everywhere war has touched feels the same sense of loss that you do now. I can only offer this in advice from someone who’s lived with loss his entire life. Try each day to make life better for those still living.”
“Does Master Yasuda work for you?”
“Like you, Mr. Yasuda received messages from an app. In his case, it was a dating app that would guide him to the perfect wife if he proved himself worthy. He had to help her honorably vanquish her tormentors in battle. Mr. Yasuda will never know about any of this unless you tell him.”
“No, you’re right Sonny can never find out, but then, why tell me?”
“Mr. Dearborn, are you familiar with the expression, the enemy of my enemy is my friend? During the American invasion, the president hid the nation’s gold reserves in scattered places around the country. In hopes he could repel the attackers and rebuild. As you know, history proved otherwise.”
“Which side were you on again?”
“I was and will always be on the side of the Iraqi people, regardless of who is in charge.”
“A group from Romeo Company discovered one of these caches of gold. Wade Smith stole the gold and killed the innocent to hide his crime. Your father put himself between Romeo Company’s guns and the Iraqi people. He died defending the people of Iraq… and in doing so, he died for me.”
“Okay, but you’re thanking me for something my dad did.”
“Mr. Dearborn, after years of study, we still had no clue where Wade hid the gold. It would be impossible for our agents to infiltrate the Dead Soldiers Gang. More importantly, for us as scientists, the hints of a mind control ray were too tantalizing to leave unexplored.”
“Early on, we devised a plan where you would avenge your father and save your mother. We just had to wait until you were old enough, and while it did not go as we had thought, you performed beyond our wildest expectations. You are a testament to your family’s name, Mr. Dearborn.”
“As we had predicted once disruptions began, they moved the gold, allowing us to retrieve it and the mind control ray as well. With it, perhaps peace is within our grasp after all. Enjoy your rewards, Mr. Dearborn. You have truly earned them,” said Ali.
“So the money in the general’s account is all blood money?”
“No, General Whatcom came from a very wealthy family. It was the general’s money that bought the houses and cars for the members of the Dead Soldiers Gang. Mr. Smith was too afraid of getting caught to actually spend the gold he stole.”
“You know, I really missed Aggie. I’m kind of bummed to find out she wasn’t real.”
“My team misses you, Mr. Dearborn. We invite you to come to Iraq as our guest. You can meet the families that your father died saving.”
“I would like that, but I don’t think I’m ready just yet.”
“As you wish, simply text Agnon 2K, when you desire a visit and we’ll handle the rest. Oh, I understand the daughter of Mrs. Cella is returning home. If you’re curious, her trigger phrase is: my, peach, girl, and her slave name is princess.”
In a scene befitting Victorian times, the family and servant assembled in front of the house to greet the daughter returning from her studies abroad. I wore a tuxedo, mom wore a scandalous red dress, and momma Sophia wore a new traditional maid’s uniform. She also wore a wedding ring with the word slave engraved for all to see and a rainbow ribbon pinned above her apron pocket.
“Didn’t you say she’s spent the last two years in whore school?” I said to momma Sophia.
“Yes, and she is the top of her class.”
No shit. A stretched limo with flags on the fenders drove up to the house accompanied by four motorcycle policemen. We watched as the driver stiffly strutted to the large rear door of the coach.
“Her royal highness, Princess Amanda Julianne Barbo,” said the driver.
I looked at momma Sophia. “She’s really royalty?”
“Her dad has given her the title. She’s not in line to actually be in power.”
“Her dad?”
“We’ll talk later.”
Hmm, a wealthy European-girl molded, trained, and surgically enhanced to be the perfect sex slave? This I have to see.
“Oh-my-God!”
“I’ve lost him,” said mom.
“Prince Charming meet Sleeping Beauty,” said Sophia.
“Don’t just stand there! Get my things!” Amy barked at her mother. “Inform Master Wade, we are ready to receive him…”
“My, peach, girl.”
Both mom and Sophia stared at Amy dumbstruck. She had stopped mid-sentence by three magic words. I waved at the police and the women followed suit. They got the hint and motored off.
“Sophia, pick up Amy’s bags. We don’t want to cause a scene. Follow us, princess.”
As we turned and walked toward the house, the limo quietly moved away. Of course Amy’s gorgeous. Oh my god, what a beautiful girl, with a bronze tan and eyes as green as clover. Her wavy hair perfectly matched the colors of autumn from brilliant gold to a moody auburn, and her hourglass frame gave her breasts gravitational fields of their own.
“The playroom is different since the last time you were here, but the rules remain the same,” I said, after everyone entered the basement. The smell of the wall to wall carpeting overpowered the scent of jism that haunted its previous incarnation. “Do you know what happens down here?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
“No.”
“Then let me tell you—”
“Wade is dead,” said Sophia. “That bastard is dead. Todd killed him and Aldo, too.”
“Oh, thank god. Saved at the last moment by a… boy.”
“Boy! I attend Boston Medical School,” I said. Then, looking at Sophia, I asked, “Does she know you’re her mother?”
“You used to attend medical school. Now, you attend me, and of course, I know my mother.”
No wonder Sophia didn’t know that Wade had programmed Amy. Her second self is as fluent and fluid as her awake state. Oh my, she is a native slave. She’s never known a time that she wasn’t programmed. Just when I thought my opinion of Wade Smith could sink no lower. I realized he had strapped a child into the mind control device. Suddenly, the idea that he was too neurotic for underage sex seems a little weak. If he did, I’m sure she won’t be able to tell me.
I snapped my fingers in Amy’s face.
“I am sorry, Amy. You’ve never had the chance to live your life. I see now that they have forced you to survive inside an ivory palace, pleasing everyone else.”
“Does this mean we will not have sex?” she said, unbuttoning her top. “Mom gives the best oral. I’ve been looking forward to getting eaten out since I got on the plane.”
“You know that Sophia’s your mother?”
“Yes. Did you know Rita was your mom? I understand you fucked her anyway,” said Amy, as a smile playfully curled in her cheeks. “Want to ride them around the room like Shetland ponies? If not, I’ve got some sex-toys that will make them feel like they’re getting fucked by one.”
I think I cum a little in my pants, just then.
A well-dressed man in a bowler rang the bell of a local Maryland residence.
“Ashley Jackson?” said the man.
“That’s my mom. MOM! The bill collector is here!”
“Dakota, how many times have I told you to stop yelling from the front door? Oh, ah, hi may I help you?”
“Ms. Jackson, my name is Pumphrey. Because of your tragic loss, my employer, Mr. Dearborn, has compelled me to offer you my services.”
“I’m sorry, but whatever it is, we can’t afford it.”
“Ms. Jackson, I am a butler with over 35 years’ experience. Mr. Dearborn pays my salary and has allotted me a stipend to cover the cost of various expenditures, such as maid service and necessary household repairs.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he promised your mother that he would take care of her, and he never got the chance.”
“I thought his name was Smith.”
“That’s the wrong man, ma’am.”
“Hold up. While mom and dad split she was living with that creepy Smith dude, and she was also seeing this Dearborn on the side?”
“It’s a complicated story, Ms. Jackson, one that I’m not at liberty to tell, but I assure you, Mr. Dearborn only has your best interests at heart.”
“Did you say household repairs? Can you get someone to fix my water heater?”
“Consider it done. If you have any other issues, please create a work list and I’ll get them looked into.”
“Then, um, welcome home, mister, mister?”
“It’s Pumphrey, ma’am.”