The Arrivals from M31 Galaxy Are Among Us

Alice was leaning against the corner of the dashboard. In the dim yellow lights of my cabin, she looked more attractive than usual. This was the first time we were going to be apart for a long time, and I sensed that was what excited her so much. She was sweating, with strands of hair clinging to her face, her wide black pupils only occasionally catching the yellow hue from the screens built into the walls of the cabin.

I loved her for the refined expression on her face. When she made love to me, her features became sharper, and shadows appeared around her eyes. She had a hundred ways to highlight the complexity of her nature. But today, she was simply complex in her most natural style. She was breathing deeply, the muscles around her cheeks and ears tensing involuntarily. Instead of saying, "More, come on," she said:

"Well! Try taming a squirrel."

She was looking at the ceiling now. I could only see the whites of her eyes, her mouth wide open, her tongue curling between her teeth. I had seen this in movies, but I knew Alice would do it just for fun, even if she was genuinely enjoying what was happening between us.

Pretending to be in ecstasy was a common game. Alice and I had talked about this many times, so it would be even harder for me to judge how much she was faking now. But it didn’t matter because she was making love to me, and that brought her some pleasure. Knowing Alice, I knew she would never do anything unless she wanted to.

“Alice, where do you want to go today?” I asked.

“To the distant past. I will appear on the Polynesian islands, specifically on the Pitcairn Atoll. They speak English there, but nearby, on the Tuamotu Islands, they speak French. It will be 1704, before the era of English and French colonization. I will observe the women of the Oeno tribe,” she replied.

“We’ve always had a fascination with Polynesia, Easter Island! The Kahunas in Hawaii!” I remarked.

“The Kahunas came to Hawaii from the Sahara; they traveled through Madagascar. It was the work of those from the previous ship; they founded the Saharan empire of the Garamantes,” Alice explained.

“Will you just watch, or take the form of a woman from the Oeno tribe?” I asked.

“It depends on whether the people there actually had a pleasant life,” she responded.

“I doubt that people lived pleasantly anywhere in the 18th century,” I said skeptically.

“Well, then suggest another place. You don’t want to send me to some harem of Genghis Khan, do you?” she teased.

“I am generally against your plan to interfere with people from the past,” I stated.

“We have agreed that we will only observe people from the past and only interfere through genetic corrections,” Alice countered.

Alice pressed her thighs together, slid down, and stood erect on the red carpet of my cabin. She was natural and feminine. She put on the dark purple panties lying on the seat. The white blouse she hadn’t taken off earlier only reached her thighs. Now, she was preparing a drink for herself and, as I noticed, for me as well, while typing something absently on the keyboard of the on-board computer.

“Listen, you're communicating with the main computer! The navigator on duty will see it on his monitor,” I warned.

“Damn it!” she exclaimed.

“Is there any reason to be angry?”

“How can you not trust a girl you've been living with for two years, a girl who is a crew member of this ship?” she retorted.

“You only have the authority for cultural inspection, and Commander Adrian is responsible for any physical interference,” I reminded her.

“Do you think getting into someone's bed is cultural interference?” she challenged.

“Yes! It conveys a huge amount of information,” I replied.

“Matchmaking is just as much a way for the future to interfere with the past as physical interference. After all, if a child with certain predispositions is born as a result, it will influence the course of events,” she argued.

“Yes, but remember, this kind of interference from the future has been happening since the beginning. A certain idea has always united or bonded people. And ideas ‘just exist there,’ left by someone,” I explained.

Alice sat down in her chair, crossed her legs, and sipped her drink. On the main screen in my cabin, the computer was displaying a film of a journey into the peripheral sector of the local galaxy, and now deeper into the solar system, towards the planet Gea. The atolls of Polynesia were already visible. We were flying, as the captions at the bottom of the screen said, over the lagoon islands of Ellice and Samoa, and then the Cook Islands and Tuamotu.

I actually agreed with Alice. I also believed that the Polynesian tribes, living on distant islands separated by water, were our cosmic social model. Lots of sun, few problems with food. No point in waging territorial wars, but a great reason to travel and the sheer necessity of procreation. Otherwise, there was the threat of tribal degeneration.

“But try to explain it to Alice! Why do technologically advanced civilizations like sensuality, sex, and treatises on love?” I mused.

“It’s more difficult, but I'll give you a full lecture soon,” she replied.

“If I opposed Alice, it was only because I was worried about her. Our TIME-CRAFT-5 ship was built recently. It is a completely new device. Based on the theory of Michael Morris and Ulvi Yurtsever about 'wormholes,' the possibility of jumping through local space-time has been realized. We can indeed make jumps into the past and even move sideways to neighboring galaxies, which is also a form of time travel. Some of us return to Andromeda, only to find that our loved ones are older or already dead by the time we arrive. It's quite depressing.”

“It was necessary to gather groups of madmen willing to make such ‘crazy flights into infinity.’ As it turned out, you can always find a few dozen such people. Zachariah, Zoe, and Tessa devised a method. A determined team of adventurers is easiest to recruit by considering their sexual temperament.”

“The same energy encourages travel,” Alice continued. “According to Zoe, when people travel or even go to a bar or a disco, they want to meet someone, 'that special someone.' Seeing the scenery, drinking beer, or dancing are just excuses.”

“Adara! Look! Now you see this small island, and now look! Grass, palm trees, sand... and look longer! Hold on! Always the same faces, a dozen or so islanders and splashing waves. Wonderful, to be sure, but ocean water stretches to the horizon, and so it goes on for weeks, months. So, what then? Wouldn't you want to start building a raft with a sail? And what's it like when another raft arrives here? Apparently, the local women, here on the Pitcairn Islands, swim out to meet it and give themselves to the newcomers while still in the water, just to greet them!”

“I understand, but why explore it so thoroughly?” I asked.

“People on Earth have become entangled in cosmology and theology with asceticism,” Alice explained. “By accident, they don’t even realize why this happened. To untangle it, we have to go back to the sources, to the times when they were already people but still able to live in a relaxed way.”

“Well, if you have to, you should visit ancient India and explore the cult of Tantra,” I suggested.

“Where do you think Buddha and the wisdom of the Tibetan Book of the Dead came from?” Alice countered.

“Zoe and Tessa were in India; it was their second 'bardo,' but they did not know that CRAFT-II crashed seven thousand years ago near Easter Island,” I noted.

“It shattered into smithereens, nothing was left of it?” Alice asked.

“How it happened, no one knows yet!” I replied.

“For now? There’s no way to undo it!” she said.

“It will stay, it will not stay; talk to Elias,” I suggested.

“He’s a mathematician!” Alice exclaimed.

“It is true that topology alone is not enough; you also need to be able to talk to people,” I pointed out.

“But what do you finally want to talk about?” Alice inquired.

“I said, there will be a lecture... if Adrian lets me, because he can choose Zoe or Tessa. Who do you prefer?” I asked.

“As a lecturer? I know them – as you know – also personally,” she replied.

“What I mean is the presentation of the entire concept,” I clarified.

“What is the difference between your concepts?” Alice asked.

“I have a psychological-genetic approach, and Tessa was in India and, you know! She constantly talks about the COSMIC DUAL, over and over again, that an ancient Chinese proverb already stated that 'sexual intercourse is the human equivalent of cosmic processes,'” I explained.

“So, in the end, in China or India?” she asked.

“What she means is that the concept of a cosmic binary has been floating around in the minds of people on Earth for a long time, although it was only in ancient India that someone supposedly decided to notice that the Big Bang, from which the local Universe emerged, was the equivalent of an orgasm,” I elaborated.

“Well, well, that’s a long way off, so what? How did they finally formulate it?” she asked.

“See, you would prefer Tessa’s lecture too!” I noted.

“Adrian should give a voice not only to the 'literary group' but also to the 'physical group,' but let’s not argue now. Alice, I’ll show you something!” I suggested.

I went to the desk and displayed something different on all three of the huge monitor screens built into the walls of my cabin. A large magnification of Alice’s face flickered on one of the screens. You could see every little wrinkle. Her face was sweaty. Alice was now biting her lips as if in a grimace of pain. The second screen showed my face, and the third showed Alice and me from a distance of three meters. The television installation in my cabin usually served a different purpose, so by chance, in the lower corner of each screen, three rows of red numbers indicated the broadcast parameters. On the first line, the computer displayed:

RECORDING TIME: 1968,08,22; 21:55

The last two digits, representing the seconds, were changing rapidly. They were identical on all three screens. Alice's gaze shifted from screen to screen, her expression becoming increasingly amused.

“Can you give me your thoughts?” I asked.

“Of course,” she replied.

I watched with interest, too. Up until now, I had never watched myself “served from a film reel” while making love. The magnification was terrifying. By observing each grimace on Alice's face, one could guess her next thoughts. In any case, it was easy to recreate her mood at each moment and superimpose it on what I already had deep in my memory about that moment. This superimposition brought back intense excitement. Now the red numbers read:

RECORDING TIME: 1968,08,22; 23:06

Alice had been watching silently for an hour. She wasn't bored. Now she spoke.

“I see that the engineers have improved the ship's construction. There were no such installations on the 'fourth,'” she observed.

“Yes, there weren’t,” I confirmed.

“Why do you need three video cameras built into the walls?” she asked.

“To experiment with 'virtual reality,' i.e., 'a reality almost the same as the real one,'” I explained.

“Is anyone still watching this film?” Alice inquired.

“This blue light on the console means that nothing is being 'retransmitted from here to the outside,' like to other cabins,” I reassured her.

“Or to the global network of your planet Gea, located near the star Solaris in the Milky Way galaxy,” she teased.

“Alice! Please don’t remind me of my origins. I know you want to hurt me now. I remember that you took me from Gea a few years ago, and you yourself are an aristocrat from another galaxy, from Andromeda, even though biologically, you are currently 50% younger as a result of our travels in space-time ships,” I replied.

“Okay, okay, that was my punishment for recording me during sex without my permission,” she admitted.

“This was an experimental recording. If you press this blue button, this recording will be deleted,” I suggested.

“And while I’m at it, won’t I delete the ship’s main navigation programs?” she joked.

“No, the blue lights and buttons on the panel only apply to video cameras and video recordings from this cabin,” I clarified.

“And those green ones on the right?” she asked.

“Yes, they concern transmissions from this cabin to the outside and vice versa. If we wanted to broadcast this recording to your planet's global network, orbiting Alpha-Sirrah, we would have to use these green buttons,” I explained.

“Don’t make fun of me! You're testing my general orientation. You probably don’t think that I confuse the Andromeda constellation and its alpha-SIRRAH visible from Gea, a planet in your Milky Way, with the ANDROMEDA galaxy visible against the background of this constellation. I am a princess from M31, according to your lousy nomenclature, because I was born on the 'Return Planet,'” she corrected.

“For your services in completing the previous mission, you were given a second title, the same thing: Princess of Andromeda, but it concerns the 'Andromeda Constellation,' the local Galaxy... Alice! Delete the recording!” I urged.

“Well, I won’t delete it because I like it,” she replied.

“Why do you like it?” I asked.

“Because I'm good at it!” she declared.

“Yes... you’re good!” I agreed.

“Look, I’m currently putting on my purple panties that I’m wearing now, so you can turn it off,” she said.

“Okay, I'm turning it off, but tell me! Is that the only reason you don't want me to delete it?” I pressed.

“I don't like such direct questions!” she replied.

“Alice, I know you don’t like direct questions, so I only ask you this once every few months. Remember, you allowed me to do it ‘once every few months,’” I reminded her.

“Okay, what is your question on — I will note — August 22, 1968?” she asked.

“I’ve asked before, so I’ll ask again! Why should this recording remain in the ship’s memory systems?” I queried.

“Because it shows that ‘you, the man,’ love ‘me, the woman!’” she answered.

“That’s news to me too! I tell you this quite often, and if I don’t, it’s only because it seems worn out and baseless to you,” I retorted.

“Yes, but looking at this recording, I noticed that you can check several parameters and finally know for sure,” she replied.

“What does this observational test consist of?” I asked.

“I won’t tell you, and I don’t think you could come up with it yourself. A man wouldn’t think of it!” she teased.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because when a man watches an erotic scene, he focuses on receiving sensuality; it excites him to such an extent that he stops noticing the ongoing exchange of messages between the ‘spirit of a woman’ and the ‘spirit of a man,’” she explained.

“If he is a Sagittarius!” I joked.

“Not only that, all men are superficial visual beings and always initially treat a woman’s figure as a ‘device for generating pleasure.’ Have you seen the movie Cheryl 2000? It’s about a female android designed to sexually satisfy men. Besides, I understand them. The ‘wild spirit of a man’ views the world as a vast wilderness, space, or a vast savannah where various bushes grow. Although I like men and even their way of thinking, I believe they need to understand what the wild spirit of a woman is,” she said.

“There are twelve types of people with different personalities, determined during pregnancy by the external arrangement of the nearby planets and stars of the Zodiac that influence the fetus. In light of this theory, it will be difficult for you to promote these ‘Polynesian customs’ on Gea. You will always have people who cannot stand sensuality and sex. Have you forgotten that people on Gea are a mixture of races and types, descendants of visitors from different areas? Those in Mexico were indoctrinated by those from the Pleiades, those from Egypt, as you know, the followers of Isis and Osiris by visitors from the Orion region, and the Dogon from Africa by a tribe from the planets orbiting Sirius,” I argued.

“We are mainly concerned with tolerance of other people's views. But tell me, what is it like in your opinion? Can a man, watching a filmed erotic scene, tell who loves whom?” she asked.

“I understand what you mean — that women are at a higher stage of development because they can do it. But you've probably heard that in the slums of big cities, criminal gangs of women are more cruel, and the sex described by female writers is darker,” I responded.

“Well, well, you're close; you're beginning to understand that the predispositions of individual Scorpio-type people are superimposed on the predispositions of tribes, civilizations, and eras. There may be a Lizard or Spider-type person, belonging to a nation with a Scorpio personality, ruled by a leader with a Scorpio personality, living in an era that embodies the Scorpio spirit,” she elaborated.

“Enough, Alice! Return to the nature of a woman,” I insisted.

“It is not about the nature of a woman, although it is indeed different from the nature of a man. The ability to judge ‘does she love?’ comes from constantly remembering that for someone to love someone, there must be dozens of favorable coincidences, each of them variable over time. It is, therefore, highly doubtful whether he loves me and whether I love him. This is why, for a woman, it is a dilemma that fascinates her constantly, which is why she, watching a filmed scene of people making love, does not have time to concentrate entirely on sensuality,” she explained.

“Why, Alice? Is it so important for women to know ‘whether he loves or not?’ Because if he doesn’t love her, she can find someone else!” I countered.

“And if she doesn’t find one? And besides, she wants to have children with someone and raise them with someone!” she responded.

“She will find someone without difficulty if she has some mental energy! And children are often raised, and despite this, the problem of ‘she loves, she doesn’t love’ remains. This is about some kind of love for ‘one goal,’ love for ‘exclusivity,’ or ‘man as the goal and meaning of life,’” I pondered.

“What is psychic energy?” Alice asked.

“The ability to isolate a certain character, problem, or dilemma from the background — i.e., from the rest of the world — and attach the focus of attention to this character,” I explained.

“So you advise me to isolate a certain man from the background and focus on him! You know I can concentrate! Aren't you jealous?” she asked.

“Apart from feeling ‘personal’ jealousy, there remains the ‘galactic’ general problem: in what circumstances can a person tell two or even three people that they love them? Is this permissible? Is this possible? Is it true then?” I replied.

“This is only a planetary problem, not a galactic one!” she retorted.

“I don’t know. In any case, if physicists have been arguing for centuries about atoms, quarks, and whether matter has a wave or particle nature, then I guess the problem of jealousy, the concept of monogamy, exactly, the problem of whether one can or should love two people is equally important to people, and we should also try to solve it,” I explained.

“You know very well that this problem does not require accelerators, radio telescopes, or nuclear reactors,” Alice observed.

“But I think it also requires experimentation!” I added.

“Alice, since we’re talking about love all the time, make love to me now,” I suggested.

Alice got up from the armchair. Her white blouse reached down to her thighs. She stepped back to the edge of the bed and suddenly, in a theatrical gesture, as if struck by lightning, she rolled over on her back.

She said, “Viens!” and after a moment, “Enter me right away! I think I’ll give you something extraordinary today.”

“What will you give me?” I asked.

“You'll see — probably in an hour. I need a whole hour of excitement. Enter me and stay for a long time... but we can talk at the same time. I like it that way,” she replied.

“What topic interests you now?” I asked.

“What do you want to do with this recording?” she inquired.

“I won't do anything without your consent, so everything will depend on you,” I reassured her.

“If you want to broadcast this somewhere, electronically cover my eyes and modify the audio track so that I am not recognized. You can also change my voice to a more sensual and frivolous one. In fact, I think it turns me on that millions of people will see me naked and aroused,” she confessed.

“I understand, but the problem is that the recording seems great precisely when you can see your face, your eyes. It seems that sometimes you open them wide, as if you are scared or surprised. You can see something that is as if it were behind you or inside you, but bigger than you,” I explained.

“When I make love with a man, sometimes, with the next move, I am surprised, and sometimes terrified,” she admitted.

“Surprised? By what?” I asked.

“Well, because this next impression is so different, for example, that it is mixed with pain or sadness!” she replied.

“With sadness?” I asked.

“Yes, with sadness, but in a pleasant way, somehow melancholic, sweet, and warm,” she elaborated.

“And where does that terror that is visible on your face at least three times in this recording come from?” I queried.

“These are momentary fears that something will happen to me,” she answered.

“Ah! That I don't love you! And how could I possibly stop loving you if our electromagnetic fields interfere? You have a magnetic effect on me!!” I responded.

“Interference is such vague, mystical, or rather sentimental talk,” she countered.

“It’s not vague at all. If you want, I’ll deduce physical reasons for falling in love from established premises,” I offered.

“Will that also explain why you managed to tame me like a fox?” she asked.

“No!” I replied.

“Then say it!” she demanded.

“Well, frogs and lizards can't count, meaning they don’t know natural numbers, but monkeys already understand that there are several bananas. It turns out, however, that complex numbers on the planet Gea were discovered only by Gerolamo Cardano in 1545,” I began.

“Is this the doctor, gambler, and horoscope reader who published the horoscopes of biblical figures?” Alice asked.

“The very same. He just said that complex numbers are ‘God's work’ and claimed that he discovered them, not invented them,” I replied.

“We sent him too—go on, continue… I feel more and more comfortable, keep talking—Adara! I think I’ll manage to do what I planned!” Alice encouraged.

“Well, nervous systems and brains are devices for detecting certain invisible, but eternally existing entities, shapes, or patterns. They are not located in time and space; they exist beyond space-time, in an additional dimension (environment) in which our space is immersed. In this dimension, various patterns and ideas have been collected. These are like theoretical recipes for various possible structures and actions that can be visualized or made visible,” I explained.

“I know what you’re getting at—you want to say that to have an orgasm means to detect, with your nervous system, a certain specific shape, which is quite simple and lies low in the phase space, like it is within reach,” Alice guessed.

“Yes, artists, like painters, also believe that in their greatest works, they touch eternal truths,” I continued.

“And when I pleasure myself and have an orgasm, do I also detect this shape?” Alice asked.

“You know very well that it’s not the same. Some shapes can only be discovered by two people,” I explained.

“It’s as if you put two independent, stand-alone programs into a computer, and they were supposed to work together to develop something meaningful—that's not how it’s done!” Alice remarked.

“And what happens in a fertilized egg cell? Two programs, X and Y, work together to produce a human being, even though parthenogenetic reproduction is possible if necessary,” I countered.

“Okay, but this was supposed to be about why someone loves someone,” Alice reminded me.

“First, they guess, and then they test it experimentally. They primarily test it during sex. When a shape is discovered in their nervous system... it resonates, it vibrates, or otherwise it interferes, which could not be excited in any other way... it couldn’t vibrate, then such a couple falls in love,” I concluded.

“The same model would apply to the neurophysiological processes that occur when staring at a painting or sculpture,” Alice noted.

“Or something else beautiful, except that the sculpture is visible, while a woman in love and a man in love are looking at a certain beautiful shape that cannot be seen alone,” I added.

“Or the pleasure of playing tennis. Well, you propose a ‘tennis model of love,’” Alice observed.

“You know it’s more complex. You asked, even though you already know the answer. You know that the fox told the Little Prince: ‘To tame means to create bonds so that we both need each other. To achieve success, you have to be very patient...’” I quoted.

“Aha, hence your nosy nature?” Alice quipped.

“What nosiness?” I asked.

“Yes, it's monitoring my thoughts,” Alice replied.

“Sometimes you also want to know what's on my mind,” I pointed out.

“I don’t care at all about continuing to love you; quite the opposite! I'd like to finally stop thinking about you. Then I could think about someone else’s affairs, and I don't supervise your thoughts! I only listen to what you say. It’s hard not to listen because then I could only stare at the wall of my cabin,” she confessed.

“You could be looking at a monitor screen rebroadcasting films taken on the planets orbiting Alpha-Sirrah in Andromeda, of which you are the Mistress,” I suggested.

“Something’s wrong with me—these same old melodramas over and over again!” Alice lamented.

“I think that horror films, thrillers, and comedies also revolve around Alpha-Sirrah in Andromeda,” I joked.

“Stop making a comedy out of it!” Alice scolded.

“Alice, what's wrong with you today? Can’t you take a joke? I meant that instead of sitting in this cabin, you could be sailing on Lake Le Lac, on your 'Reversing Planet.' Then you wouldn’t need to get involved in monitoring my thoughts,” I said.

“You know very well that I only signed up for this ship because you're here to do something specific—a mission. Taking part in an ‘extragalactic mission’ is more interesting than watching movies ‘about other people's lives.’ And when someone decides to take part in some kind of venture, it’s no wonder they have to listen carefully. And when you do listen, you can get attached to the plot—or rather, you co-create this plot. Then it can look like falling in love. In reality, though, it's just approval for co-creating the action. However, I want to tell you that I, in general, like men. I like their smell, I like making love to them, and each of them usually says something interesting or proposes some action,” Alice explained.

“Clearly stated. For me, the problem lies in the fact that I also like women in general, but I don't want to lose you. I want to have some certainty, or at least a chance, an unlost hope, that I will make love to you again and that I will talk to you again, like I am doing now,” I admitted.

“I don't blame you, but ‘ad meritum,’ what will you do with this recording?” Alice inquired.

“Well, we've already established that your eyes need to be electronically covered!” I reminded her.

“Someone would have to play with this for hours,” she pointed out.

“If you agree, Tim Lynx and Brenda Lynx will take care of it,” I offered.

A Task for Tim and Brenda

It was our last evening. I was happy that Alice was with me in my cabin. We were getting more and more agitated. Alice answered my question:

"Tim Lynx? Great, I met him during training. I made love to him a few times then. He's nice, cheerful, always speaks softly, never raises his voice, never shouts at me."

"Look, look, Tim," I said, "the guy from the Lynx constellation — and by the way, a handsome man with red hair."

Alice laughed. "It’s just a game with your nicknames here on the ship."

"These are not nicknames," I replied, "they are symbols of real power over the inhabitants of specific regions. I remind you that you will probably receive permission to fly in three days, on one of the three lifeboats we have, to Gea, to the edge of the Orion spiral arm in the Milky Way galaxy, where, also thanks to us, a civilization of beings similar to you is developing extremely quickly."

"Who is in charge of all this?" she asked. "Who decides who goes where?"

"Commander Adrian," I replied. "The captain of the ship and co-participant in the conspiracy."

"What conspiracy?" Alice exclaimed. "Oh, damn it! Anyway, you can tell me tomorrow. I’ve had enough of such heavy topics for today."

"Do you want me to stop bothering you? Maybe it's hurting you?"

"No, I want more!"

"I’ve known you for two years, but I still don’t know what excites you the most."

"Adara, will you give this recording to Tim and Brenda Lynx?" Alice asked.

"You can do it yourself. Just pick up the phone and tell them."

"If I pick up the phone, will the video camera turn on and will the image of us here in bed be transmitted to Tim and Brenda's cabin?"

"No, I’ve already told you that if the blue light is on, no recording is being made here, and the green light is off, no image from here is being transmitted outside. It will be a normal phone conversation. Alice, I know you like talking on the phone while making love."

"It’s true. I like such situations," Alice admitted. "Actually... turn on our image for them. I want it that way."

"Let’s try... maybe making love in front of another nice couple will do us good."

Alice arched her body and reached for the receiver, still with me inside her. She punched in the Lynx cabin number. I couldn’t see her face now.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Lynx! Am I disturbing you? I don’t think I called too late. Have you slept yet? No? That’s great! I’m calling on Adara’s recommendation. I only learned from him today that you are in charge of reviewing and editing films recorded here on the ship. Supposedly this is your main job, and supposedly you do a good job, although I don’t understand why these recordings are stored and why they are being edited. But Adara wants to give you a three-way recording of an erotic scene that I had with him an hour ago, which is in the ship's memory systems. All I have to do is give you the name of the memory file and release the lock. However, I have a request. I want you to cover my eyes in the film so that no one recognizes me."

I sensed deep inside Alice's body that she was now talking to a man, not a woman. This was evidenced by a certain peculiarity I felt in her vagina.

"Princess Alice," Tim replied, "we will cover your eyes, but maybe you would like your subjects around alpha-SIRRAH to suspect it was you? Am I kidding? I’m teasing you. Our films are edited and stored for now only for the Dream Transmitter's use."

"What dream transmitter?" Alice asked.

"Well, while you were on this initial reconnaissance, we rethought our possibilities and realized that we could already broadcast on the 'world channel'."

"None of the people on the 'world channel' can broadcast because it is not for people!"

"So tell me, Princess, why have you had so many erotic dreams lately? Should I describe them to you in more or less detail?"

"I don’t believe you anyway. The 'world channel' does not operate in the electromagnetic spectrum."

"That’s right," Tim continued, "that’s why the dreams aren't as terrifyingly precise as Hollywood movies. They're not intrusive, and some 'apparitions' even engage in conversations."

"Maybe you should say that it’s you who's talking there," Alice suggested.

"Alice, it’s not like that. It’s not that simple. It’s about the mirror of 'Brenda's Minor'. Anyway, if you want, move from the genetic group to the 'literary group,' and you'll learn more."

"But Tim, you also spy on everyone!"

"Princess, we also want to teach you and others not to be jealous!"

"I don’t know if it’s possible to remove feelings of jealousy," Alice countered. "It’s innate; it’s embedded in the brain at the very foundation. Sometimes I don’t know if there could be a different kind of morality."

"You have mood swings, but this time, after our visit to Gea, in a dozen or so years, everything will become clear. This is one of the goals of our experiment. You are part of it. You have the right predispositions; otherwise, you wouldn’t be on this ship... We will see later. I warn you, however, we are starting the second phase of manipulation with image and sound processors, and we are adding neural networks to it."

"And what is this second phase?" Alice asked.

"From three-way recordings, we can now construct solid figures. They can walk, talk, and laugh."

"Can you make love to them?"

"The solid image would need to be hardened!"

"Can it be done?" Alice wondered.

"For now, it is the company's technological secret."

"Hey, do you want to see me and Brenda live too?" Tim asked.

"What are you doing now?" Alice inquired.

"We love each other. You just interrupted us. Brenda says that when she realizes that someone is looking at her, she feels more pleasure."

"Tim, turn it on!" Alice ordered.

The middle screen showed the silhouettes of two shapely people, completely naked. Their bodies were tangled; they were lying in navy blue sheets on a bed just as wide as ours. Our sheets, however, were floral. I knew Brenda from our conferences. She was a tall, slim woman with dark hair. She always had a mischievous expression on her face and was always smiling. She had a characteristic dimple on her chin. Right now, she wasn’t wearing red lipstick, but she did have makeup around her eyes. She probably made a big impression on any man.

Alice turned the volume up really loud. Deep breaths were clearly audible. Brenda, perhaps especially for us, or under the influence of the awareness that she had an audience, added many short words to these breaths. They were comments on what she was feeling, short commands concerning the desired behavior of Tim. This was done without embarrassment. Sometimes she would suck in air, with her tongue stuck between her teeth, which caused some of her breaths to be sharp, hissing sounds. Grimaces, indicating the pleasure she experienced, were followed by sincere smiles, and even giggles or full laughter. However, she was increasingly tired, at an ever-increasing level of tension. Now she was sweating like a mouse. Alice suddenly said to them:

"You're awesome! I want to look at you some more! Don’t stop!"

But Brenda opened her mouth wide now, breathing slowly, very loudly. Her facial muscles froze as if momentarily paralyzed. She held her breath, and after a long, long moment, she let go of all her muscles. She had simply had an orgasm.

Alice's face changed a lot now. Her eyes were closed; she was breathing deeply, experiencing her orgasm for a long time, together with Brenda. Then she confessed:

"I got horny as hell. That was great! I want us to meet them! We’ll fuck as a foursome—they'll definitely want that." And then she suddenly added, "I’ll sit on your face—that's what I want. I want you to have my 'personal wine' from me now. Swallow that juice. I'll tell you tomorrow what practical implications it has."

"Great, that's what I want, do it!" I replied.

After a few agile body movements, Alice was already kneeling above my head. At first, I noticed her wide open, slender thighs, and then I felt that she was hugging my head tightly with them. It was enough to lick her a little for her juice to start flowing into my mouth. Yes, those were two glasses of her white wine: "Alice's white wine."

After a few minutes, Alice lay down along my body again. She lay limply, on her back, every muscle relaxed, her eyes clouded, and her face sleepy. After a moment, she spoke:

“Good night, Lynx. I'm switching you off.” And after a while, she turned to me and said, "Was that okay with you? Can I sleep in your cabin?"

"You know I like it," I replied.

Alice turned onto her side, drew her legs up, and in a moment began to breathe loudly and rhythmically.