SYSTEM RESET

Go Forth and Multiply

"Who are you?" he grunted, rolling onto his side and kneading Imogen's breasts with clumsy calloused fingers, "you are not like the ...."

Imogen winced. The language was unintelligible to her, but the thoughts which shaped his words were not, and the image he framed in his coarse mind was that of a Neanderthal woman. She replied in images which formed themselves in his mind as the words of his own primitive language modulated so that they seemed to him like normal speech..

"We are the Λωτoφάγoι. The priestesses of the Goddess of the Moon. Daughter of the God of the Sun."

The man grunted and fingered his languid penis which was wet with his own semen and the infective juices of Imogen's vagina. He licked his fingers to taste the essence of this strange woman. The fate of man was already sealed.

"This place is sacred to the Goddess of the Moon," Imogen whispered obligingly, "you must forget this place. You must never come here again, any of you. Never again. The Gods of the Sky are angered by your treatment of the people of this place and will punish you. The people of this place are children of the Gods. You must serve your Gods. They have a mission for you."

"I am a servant of the Gods," the man gabbled, suddenly aware that he was in the presence of the sacred, astonished that this divine creature could speak in words he understood and aware of a vengeful fire blazing in his guilty imagination, "what is your will priestess?"

"We have given our bodies to you as a reward for your faith. Now you must go into every land and spread the word of the Gods of the Sky."

"What is the word, priestess?"

Imogen traced her fingers down the man's genitals.

"The word is love. Love one another." She planted in the crude creature's mind an image of such erotic immediacy that he could be in no doubt what was expected of him.

"Go forth and multiply," she murmured, "spread your seed upon the women of the earth. Do to them as you have done to me. And do it with love, not pain."

The man looked at the divine body and prostrated himself before her, then stood up and retreated back towards the boats. His companions joined him, backing away from the bodies they had just enjoyed and the revelation of divine love which would spell the end of their species. They grouped together at the bow of one of the reed boats. Imogen stood up and felt Mike's invisible hand grip her arm and his soul embrace her. Lucy stood silent on the other side.

"It's done," Mike tightened his grip, "but they're not sure. Humans need miracles before they can believe. Wait."

The creatures by the boat looked back and wondered whether to believe what they had all been told by these bewitching women. These female priestesses were not like the women who they had customarily raped and enslaved. They were lighter skinned and their faces were different. Sharper, more intelligent, more determined, more dangerous. Doubt gripped them. Perhaps they really were priestess of the Goddess of Moon. The mysterious and inconstant Moon. His people worshipped the Sun. Perhaps they were false, like the Moon. Perhaps they were witches. Perhaps it would be better to enslave them. There would be glory in that and wealth. And tales to be told around the fire. They picked up their spears and began to advance back up the beach. The woman he had raped was standing next to another female, strange beyond belief, with bronze gold skin and long golden white hair, unlike anything he had ever seen before, and in the secret place no hair at all. Their hands were held out towards each other but did not meet so that they seemed to be clasping thin air. Thin air which erupted into a ball of livid white flame curling and twisting into the shape of a blazing God with wings of fire. It towered over them. The heat seared their flesh.

"The God of the Sun," they screamed hurling themselves into the sand and trying to bury themselves in it to escape the wrath of their God. When they dared to look up again the beach was empty. On the close horizon, just beyond the dunes, a golden sphere floated into view, hung motionless for a moment and then disappeared into the sky faster than the blink of an eye. The Sun God had left in his celestial craft, taking the priestesses with him and leaving these doomed representatives of homo sapiens sapiens convinced of their divine mission.

They too left in haste, paddling furiously back to their camp further along the coast, to the enslaved women, human and Neanderthal, waiting patiently to be raped again for the increase of the tribe. In time the tribe would move on along the coast, killing the men of other tribes where it could and taking their women for rape and trade. They themselves would die in some casual skirmish, but the contagious women and their contagious daughters would be taken by others and traded on, deeper and deeper into the world of men until the world of men had raped itself into extinction.

"Really, Imogen," Sophie lounged back in the soft seat of the geodesic flier and watched the Himalayas flash past below her, "sometimes I wonder about you. Λωτoφάγoι. You know what Λωτoφάγoι means, don't you."

"Of course I do," Imogen replied, "Lotus Eaters, I thought it was rather clever of me. And what about Mike, turning himself into a fireball?"

"It was like a bad day at Hogwarts," Lucy laughed. She rolled over and cuddled herself into Mike and Imogen.