The Keelhaul
The assassins prepared to enter the safehouse. They needed enter and recover the bodies for their employer. Otherwise they simply would have bombed the building and let the pieces get sucked out into space.
Target One, Codename: Think Tank
Target Two, Codename: Blush
Both were listed as extremely dangerous. Both were targeted for termination.
The Assassin Guild squad was dressed in black and melted away into the shadows of the building complex where their targets were located. They would melt away just as easily when the work was finished.
The leader had been doing these missions for years now. He'd killed everything from super soldiers to politicians to unfaithful spouses. If the price was right, the Assassin Guild would do it.
The price on the heads of these two was actually quite exuberant even for the Guild's standards.
It should have been a piece of cake.
Eight assassins were in place. Targets rarely merited more than one. There were well armed with silenced edged weapons and firearms. They could kill without weapons as well or even poison if that was the wish of the employer. Accidents of course were more expensive and required more time.
This employer didn't have such qualms. So it could be messy so long as it didn't trace back to the employer nor the Guild.
The information regarding the whereabouts of Roman Finn came at a very high price. He was a very difficult person to trace and the employer was aware that there would be extra costs involved. Hence the steep price.
The leader scanned the safe house. It was a small apartment. Two small bedrooms and a single living space. The targets were in bed together and judging from their heart beats and even breathing they were in a restful sleep. There was a stash of weapons in the living space, but none in the immediate bedroom. There was an alarm set up scanning the perimeter of the apartment for motion. That was actually quite easily deactivated.
The door was controlled electronically with an encrypted 20 character code. That took all of five minutes to crack.
Roman Finn was supposed to be a resourceful target, but so far he hadn't done anything the leader had not seen before. His telekinetic abilities were supposed to be formidable, but not likely to help him much in his sleep.
As for Sabrina Trevor, she would be a simple enough target.
Empathy Projector.
What was she going do? Hit them with a case of the blues?
They were ready. All the systems were down and out. All the electronics and the sensors were fully disabled. The door opened silently for just three seconds and that was all that was necessary for eight fully armed assassins to silently enter the pitch dark apartment. Night vision mixed with infrared readings built into the eyes bionically made the room as easy to navigate in as if it were in plain daylight.
They advanced towards the bedroom and could see their targets still asleep.
As they approached a cracking sound was heard as the assassins stepped on small transparent glass spheres which had been placed strategically on the ground. They were practically invisible and made a terribly loud sound that in the silent room might have been that of a small explosion.
The assassins looked from their feet to their targets and they were no longer asleep.
Still, they were unarmed. A simple hand sign from the leader and the eight assassins opened fire. Hot plasma filled the room and steam rose from the bedroom blinding them temporarily.
The steam dispersed and instead of the charred remains of their targets, the one codenamed Think Tank stood inside a bubble of a forcefield in a pair of boxers and nothing more. The woman stood behind him and was likewise protected by the forcefield.
“Impossible!” the leader muttered under his breath knowing that the targets did not have a forcefield device on their persons. It must be some of those psionic abilities their employer failed to be clear about. Still, no forcefield could hold up against a plasma barrage for long.
Apparently, the targets agreed and decided to take the offensive. Weapons flew through the air from their boxes in the living quarters and into Think Tank's hands. He was armed and did not hesitate to fire back.
He had two non-silenced plasma cannons and they sounded with a loud BOOM as he blasted the walls of the bedroom to ash and fired upon the assassins in the apartment's living space. Three assassins were caught off guard and burned to ashes.
The next move by the assassins should have been accurate head shots that, shield or no shield, would take the targets down.
Instead, the leader felt himself drowned in a strange feeling of inadequacy at not being able to strike the targets down efficiently as he had planned and at the same time he felt ferocious raging anger towards his subordinates. They should have done better. He felt inclined to take his weapon and fire on his own men to teach them the penalty for their incompetence.
But his cold instinct and wits kept him from reacting in a such an extreme and impulsive manner.
The same could not be said of his comrades. They turned their weapons on each other and shot each other dead.
“This one is resisting, Roman,” the woman said of the leader.
“No problem,” the target Think Tank replied. He made a movement with one hand and the leader's weapons were wrenched from his grip and an invisible force wrapped around his torso holding him tightly.
“He's a dangerous one,” the woman said dressing quickly pulling on body armor and trying to pack as much as she could. “We don't have much time. Luna is policed by the Space Combat Division. They'll be crawling all over us in minutes, Roman.”
“Who sent you?” Think Tank asked quickly pressing harder with the telekinetic force.
The leader would not respond.
“He's giving off a mean vibe,” the target Blush said warily as she could feel his determination growing. Not even the lowest of the Guild would betray the Assassin's Guild or their employer. And the Leader would be no exception.
“You defeated us. Using primitive technology coupled with your innate psionic abilities,” the leader said.
“You can tell your employer that I have no quarrel with anyone,” Think Tank said. “We all just want to be left alone.”
“Alas, I will not be able to deliver your message,” the leader said shaking his head. “The penalty for failure is a shameful death. Better to die fighting.”
“Tough break,” Think Tank said. “I'm not killing you in cold blood.”
“That is where you prove weakest, Think Tank,” the leader said as his tongue secretly manipulated a hollowed out tooth. “You should have killed me when you had the chance. While your forcefield will protect you from my attacks, I can at least die with the satisfaction of having accomplished part of my mission.”
“Oh, crap, Roman, he's going suicidal, he's..:” Sabrina said from the door as she felt the assassin's emotions slide deep until the dangerous threshold of self-destruction.
The leader broke the hollowed tooth and while ancient assassins used to kill themselves with cyanide, the members of the Assassin's Guild insisted on going out with a bang.
The trigger in the tooth was activated and a chain reaction of organic nature using the chemicals of the human body combined with trace amounts of other chemicals turned the leader's body into a fire bomb.
Think Tank had no opportunity to contain the blast.
The bomb and the apartment exploded.
* * * * *
“Roman,” said a woman's voice. “Wake up.”
It took a couple hard slaps but Roman came to quickly. He was in a mechanical strait jacket that allowed almost no movement. The more he struggled, the more it restrained him.
“Sabrina?” he asked groggily shaking his head in confusion. “No, that's not right. Where am I?” he said looking up at the blurred version of a much younger Polly the Pirate.
“You've been out for quite a long time,” Polly said looking down on him. “We kept you drugged until my tech girls could come up with a solution for those pesky TK Factor abilities you have. We know what frequency your powers work on, because for years we've dodged the powers of that pesky Terran lackey of a Scanner you've got with you. So, the ship is running a concentrated jamming signal focused on you. It's taking up quite a bit of juice, but I don't expect we'll need it running for long. As for your friends, I have them in an airlock in the landing dock. You touch one single hair on my person or that of my crew and they'll take a tumble into space. It's the closest thing to having a plank.”
“I just wanted to talk to Polly,” Roman said rubbing his eyes to try and get a better look at this very young woman who kept saying she was Polly. She was young and pretty. She had a more feminine frame than the Polly he remembered, but she was every bit as tough and intelligent.
“You are speaking to Captain Polly,” she said angrily.
“I mean the Polly who was my friend almost twenty years ago,” Roman rebuked also feeling a bit angry himself.
“Pirates don't have friends,” the pirate said. Her mechanical arm's hook split in two and the ends clicked together like a pair of pincers. “We have profit and reputation, both of which go down the drain if you spend your time making friends.”
“Where is the Polly I knew?” Roman asked.
“You won't be telling this tale to anyone living,” she reasoned. “She's retired. Like every other Polly has done for the past three generations. The mantle is handed on to the next Polly who does her best to keep up the technology and reputation for the next Polly and make enough profit to retire to a nice little villa on Venus.”
“I know you steal and develop technology,” Roman said. “I also know you sell technology. Someone sold a stealthed Valkerie that was used to kidnap Dr. Adel Bowen. And I'm pretty sure it was provided by a pirate. I need to know who that someone is and I sincerely thought that the Polly I knew would give me a hand finding this person. For old times sake.”
“The Polly who is in charge now, would need a powerfully profitable reason to betray one of our respectable clients, if it was indeed we who supplied this person you are seeking,” Polly said candidly. “Is there such a profitable reason?”
Roman paused for a moment and then sighed in resignation.
“I didn't think so,” Polly said patting him gently on the shoulder.
“Strip him,” she ordered her crew who dragged Roman to his feet.
“I want him prepped and ready for keelhaul in ten minutes.”
* * * * *
Qua-lynn was suspended face down in the air with arms stretched out to the sides and her ankles together. Her body formed a 'T' and it was just a mere 30 cm above the body of Cathy who was also in a similar position but face up. Their arms and ankles were held in a sort of force bond that held them stretched and in place. They were clothed only in bra and panties and their toes brushed gently against one another.
Qua-lynn's hair floated as did the rest of her body and she realized that she was in a weightless chamber without artificial gravity. Roman had described the sensation to her, but any description was poor compared to the real thing. The lack of gravity made their awkward and otherwise painful predicament comfortable all things considered. There was no pull on the restraints and their weightlessness allowed their bodies to float free.
They were in what Qua-lynn understood was an airlock. She could see the stars in space through the window and she knew that with a touch of a button they would be hurled into space. Civilized and modern life was full of new and magical apparatus which she could not hope to understand, but life and death was the same here as on KL-19. That she understood very well.
They were both gagged with ball gags and Cathy mumbled into it trying to communicate with Qua-lynn. It was a bit awkward and frustrating to be face to face and not be able to communicate.
Qua-lynn reached out with her mind sending soothing thoughts. The meaning was simple, “Calm down, Cathy, and you can communicate with me.” The words made no sense, but the meaning was there.
Cathy nodded and took a couple deep breaths that helped her relax.
“I was going to tell you to calm down and that everything was going to be all right,” Cathy thought clearly and simply.
Qua-lynn shook her head. “But you don't really know that, right?” Qua-lynn said.
Cathy nodded. “It's not looking good.”
“Death is part of life, Cathy,” Qua-lynn thought softly. “We learn as Ragnar children that there are fates far worse than death.”
The interior door to the ship opened and Mirth stepped in. He had small gravity simulator unit installed on his feet and elbows and he entered gracefully into the room.
He began to speak, but Qua-lynn could not understand his strange Terran tongue. He did not project thoughts as humans did, so if he did not speak Ragnar, she could not understand.
Mirth focused on her and smiled. His facial expressions were somewhat different than she remembered.
“I am not Mirth,” he said in Ragnar, repeating what he had said to Cathy for her benefit. “This unit's system has been rebooted with a new operating system scripted by the cruel and fearless programmers of Polly the Pirate. I have access to all Mirth's databases and all his gadgets. My new system's name is TIckle Torture ANdroid. TITAN for short.”
He held up his mechanical hand and dozens of different tickling tools and gadgets snapped out of their compartments in an instant.
Both Cathy and Qua-lynn shook their heads and made muffled protests.
“You, however,” he added in Ragnar, “may refer to me as your doom...”
* * * * *
Adel was kept prisoner in a containment chamber.
The problem was, that her conscious moments were spent in a virtual reality from which she could not escape unless and exit was programmed for her consciousness. It was the perfect prison set up in her very own mind.
She was tortured from time to time, mostly for psionic energy they needed.
She shuddered at the thought of the terrible TK Bots.
Apparently they needed an impressive amount of psionic energy and that made her wonder what these people were all up to.
She mostly had contact with the six armed woman named Alana and also known as Kali.
There was no way to physically escape, but she decided that maybe she could turn the young woman to her cause.
Today Adel had the young Alana totally at her mercy.
She was stretched out with her eyes closed on the sand of a simulated beach with her arms and legs stretched out like a peacock. She wore a specially sewn black tank top made for six arm that left her belly bare and a black pair of shorts. She was very pretty in an innocent and dangerous sort of way.
Adel had offered to give Alana more insight on her TK Factor ability. The initial evaluation by the Headmaster had classified her as a Mind Reader with mild telepathic abilities. She could determine where people would shoot or where people would aim. She could pick up minute warnings on things about to happen.
Adel considered this a lazy evaluation and offered to help the young lady advance with her skills starting with the basic determination of what they were exactly.
Adel already suspected certain things of Alana's TK Factor powers, but she needed to be sure.
The six-armed woman saw no threat in Adel and agreed to the test the doctor had in mind.
Adel went about inspecting Alana's body but not touching. She knew she must be terribly ticklish but the test did not require heavy tickling to confirm what she wanted to know. Adel made tickling movements with her fingers as if she was going to tickle and conjured thoughts of tickling Alana. There was no reaction.
In normal testing, a powerful psifont or TK Factor subject could not resist reacting even without direct physical stimulus. However, some other sense had to detect what was happening otherwise there would be no reaction. Spoken taunts or visual confirmation of the tickling fingers was usually enough. Some mind readers reacted to the thought of being tickled and they would laugh when someone simply thought of the intention of tickling.
This was clearly not Alana's case and that was why Adel discarded that theory.
What she noticed however was when she truly tickled Alana, there was a real reaction before her fingers touched her.
She would reach out to tickle a bare sole and before her nails would touch there would be a noticeable twitching just before her nails actually make contact with the soft tender sole. Alana's reaction was immediate; a scream followed by laughter and the foot jerked away violently.
Adel smiled and tried her theory at several spots. Having six bare underarms to test her theory on only confirmed that it was not a fluke. She could stimulate tickling but only when she really was going to tickle, would the point to be tickled react before she touched.
Adel was fascinated.
“So what is the verdict?” Alana asked after several minutes of testing.
“Ticklish as they get,” Adel said smiling having enjoyed the tickling test very much. It was the first moment of normality since she had been abducted.
“I mean your theory,” Alana said blushing.
“You have an innate ability not to read minds, but to rather detect intricate patterns of possibilities and successfully determine the most probable outcome,” Adel explained.
Alana's face was blank.
“You can foretell the future,” Adel explained. “It's at a very low level now, but if you worked at it, you could determine events probably several minutes before they happen.”
Alana nodded as she understood. “Could you train me?”
Adel smiled. “Of course, that's what I do best.”
Their conversation was cut short. The Headmaster appeared in the virtual reality and he stormed in their direction.
“You're not supposed to talk with the prisoners, Kali,” he said angrily.
“The Reaper has not prohibited it,” Alana said defiantly.
“I am prohibiting it,” he said with a scowl.
“I am not under contract to you,” she replied coldly. “I'm learning from the doctor and how I spend my free time in no concern of yours.”
The Headmaster considered taking this further, but then simply shook his head and decided against it.
“Have it your way,” he said. “The Reaper will hear of this though, and your free time is up. We'll need more psionic energy and we are gearing up for a reaping. Or are you against us reaping that from the good doctor?”
He tossed his TK bots to the ground and they hovered on the ground ready to attack at his order.
“Put your toys away,” Alana said. “I'll get the energy we need. I'll do it myself. Dr. Bowen is a prisoner and she'll continue to be treated as such.”
The Headmaster grumbled. “I'll be watching.”
And then he disappeared.
“Well?” Adel asked happy to be free of the TK Bots but wondering what was going to happen next.
“Lay down,” Alana ordered.
Adel obeyed and Alana's six arms went to work placing sand on Adel's body until she was totally buried with the exception of her feet. The work went fast and in a couple minutes it was done.
“Can you move?” Alana asked.
Adel tried but she could not.
“Very well,” Alana said sitting at Adel's feet. She waved a wiggling hand at Adel's foot and playfully said “Cuchi, cuchi, cu,” with intent.
Adel automatically began to laugh and struggle deeply even though Alana had not touched her.
“What are you doing?” Adel asked feeling more desperate at the simulated tickling than if she were really tickled.
“Just testing a theory,” Alana said as she drew her nails over Adel's terribly ticklish feet.
The tickling was swift and business-like, but much different than any of the prior tickling she had endured. It was like the difference between being tickled by a friend or a stranger. Alana was not yet a friend, but no longer a stranger and her tickling was without malice or desire to make her suffer.
And although Adel laughed herself to tears, for the first time in a long time, the tickling was not one bit torturous.
Six hands tickled her until she was drained of energy. The same hands dug her out and left her free to contemplate the sunset.
“Thank you. I have to go and do my business for the Reaper. However, later I will want to learn more,” was all Alana said as she departed.
“You're not the only one,” Adel murmured after Alana's departure as the sun set and a bright silver moon rose in the simulation.
* * * * *
Roman was familiar with the keelhaul. He'd been keelhauled almost two decades ago when he had first been on the Jolly Roger.
The Jolly Roger was a huge ship, but it was not in the form of a sea ship and dragging a body through space under the bottom of the ship really didn't make much sense, so Polly the Pirate came up with the idea to give a new spin on the concept of the keel haul.
Inside the main hall where the pirates ate their meals and held their general meetings, there was a chute. It ran the length of the room and was hidden in the floor when not in use. A forcefield held the victim in place and within the access of anyone who wished to step up to the chute. Once the unfortunate victim was pulled by the forcefield thorough the chute until the end of the hall, he or she traveled down a closed tube that went under the entire ship in a huge loop. For those lucky enough to not be ticklish enough for the space pirates, were plunged into water and shot through the tube having to travel through the full loop until they could get another breath of air.
The ticklish were not so fortunate. The tube was not filled with water but rather lined with specially designed elongated and flexible stalks that the technical crew had developed themselves. The tips where soft and they were charged with electricity. When a prisoner was placed inside the tube, the ends of the stalks touched the body of the victim and produced the most ticklish sensations over the unfortunate victim's entire body. The ends of the hundreds of stalks all seemed to have a life of their own. A far worse fate than water because while the keelhauled victim could breathe once he or she emerged from the tube, the ticklish victim was available to be tormented by any of the Jolly Rogers crew who might show interest in tickling the victim.
Unfortunately, as far as Roman could recall, the ENTIRE crew showed interest in tormenting a ticklish victim.
He normally wouldn't mind being manhandled by young and pretty pirate women, but he realized what was in store for him and he felt dread as he was placed in the chute and the smiling pirates awaited their captain.
Polly adjusted the height of the chute so it was about waist high and gave the indication to one of her crew to start the keel haul.
Roman felt the forcefield slowly pull him along the chute head first towards the end of the chute on the other side of the hall. It was an ominous procession to terrible tickle torture.
“I'm the captain,” Polly said walking next to Roman as he slowly approached the end of the hall, “and as such I get first pickings.”
Roman winced at the statement, but tried to remain calm.
“I admire the man that can hold his ticklishness in,” she said. “It is proof of self control and discipline.”
She softly drew a nail of her non-mechanical hand from his heel to the tip of his toes.
There was no self control when it concerned tickling and Roman could not contain his laughter and he laughed loud and out of control. The crew all chuckled and even Polly broke a smile.
“Men are so weak,” Polly said scratching in between his toes and making him laugh even more. “That's why I have a female crew. No weakling men on this ship.”
“You wouldn't say that if I had my TK Factor powers up and running,” Roman said after having laughed hard and loud.
“Poor little Roman,” Polly said patting him gently on the chest with her open hand. “The pirate's log says you spent three months on board the Jolly Roger. You even helped out on a few raids. The last Polly must have really taken a liking to you. Quite unlike a Polly if you ask me.”
“Perhaps she took more than just a liking to me,” Roman said pursing his lips as his brain debated whether Polly's pat was just a pat or a tickle.
Polly resolved the debate and her fingers tickled his chest sending him back into terrible rows of laughter. The last comment seemed to bother her and she beckoned her crew to draw close.
“He's all yours, ladies,” Polly said making way for the crew. “Next words I hear from his lips had better be him begging for a swift death.”
Dozens of hands took to Roman's body and he screamed as they gang tickled him relentlessly. They took great pleasure in their task and Roman feared it would be worse than the last time he was keelhauled all those years ago.
Polly paused at the end of the hall as she listened to Roman's screams and protests. Without looking back she heard a brief pause as he entered the tube and then he released a howl of terror as he entered the tube and the fiber exploited every single ticklish spot on his body.
His screaming laughter was music to Polly's ears. She sighed with pleasure and went off to the bridge.
* * * * *
While Roman screamed Qua-lynn and Cathy suffered a similar predicament.
TITAN took to his victims with a sadistic streak Cathy would never have thought possible of Mirth.
He started with Qua-lynn and he did not bother to search her body of ticklish spots. He went straight to her tattoos and Qua-lynn quickly succumbed to the tickling. She had tattoos on her underarms, around her navel and on the soles of her feet.
TITAN laughed maliciously as he tortured these spots. He offered no respite, no rest whatsoever and he relished watching Cathy's face as he tortured Qua-lynn because she knew that this was what was awaiting her and the dread was probably clear on her face.
Qua-lynn shook her head in exhaustion as TITAN tickled her spots. Having the TK Factor automatically meant off the charts ticklishness. Cathy frowned and waited for TITAN to turn his attention to her.
He did not. At least not directly.
TITAN took Qua-lynn's force restraints and placed them near Cathy's ribs.
Cathy could see what the tickler had in mind.
He said some words to Qua-lynn in Ragnar and he jeered at Cathy as he knew she understood what was happening.
Qua-lynn shook her head no as TITAN tickled the sun around her navel making her laugh into her gag and bring tears from her eyes.
TITAN made a harsh command to Qua-lynn, but she continued to shake her head and bear the tickling torture. Cathy saw TITAN insert a special soft brush into Qua-lynn's deep belly button and the brush whirled stimulating the walls of the navel. Qua-lynn's eyes went wide in their sockets and despite this terrible torture she still would not tickle.
Cathy could bear no more of the torturous situation and she looked meaningfully into Qua-lynn's eyes and nodded affirmatively. Qua-lynn nodded back. There was no need for telepathy.
Qua-lynn's fingers dug into Cathy's ribs and she instantly started laughing into the gag as the tickling sensations invaded her body and took full control of her reactions.
“Awww,” TITAN said caustically, “The little Terran Space Officer sacrifices herself for the sake of her friend. I think I might cry if I had tear glands.”
Mirth would never act in such a manner. This was vile programming of a cruel and sadistic operating system.
“I don't think your friend knows what Sodium Titulate is,” TITAN said evilly as he gave Qua-lynn a quick tickle to her underarms to keep her tickling Cathy.
TITAN lifted and index finger to tickle Qua-lynn's rib cage and poked her injecting the substance into her blood stream.
“A shame she doesn't know she's just become four times as ticklish...” TITAN said as he strode down to the women's feet. He pressed his index finger to Cathy's sole and injected a dose of Sodium Titulate.
Cathy instantly became more ticklish and Qua-lynn's reluctant tickling became hellish. Sodium Titulate was considered very dangerous for psi-fonts and TK Factor subjects. Already high levels of ticklishness coupled with the powerful chemical could make for potentially lethal outcomes. Qua-lynn noticed the change in Cathy's ticklishness and held back.
“Well, if an android wants a job done right he'd better not depend on humans to do it,” TITAN said. “Humans are always slacking, and then for us it's just work, work, work.”
He pulled two hard bristled brushed from his installed gadgets and began to work on both their feet. For Qua-lynn he took particular interest in tracing the tattoos and for Cathy she knew Mirth had a digit map traced out with her most sensitive spots.
TITAN whistled a tune as he worked and watched with satisfaction as the two women's bodies shook and twisted within their restraints. The brushes were very effective on the
soles. Cathy had to admit that Mirth had the very best collection of tickling tools. She just didn't like being on the receiving end.
Cathy watched Qua-lynn's body go limp and she felt blackness crash in on her as well.
She could hear TITAN curse in frustration like a foul mouthed pirate as she slipped thankfully into oblivion.
Mirth would never swear, Cathy thought to herself as she passed out.
* * * * *
Jenny had been on Polly's crew for two months now and she had had the time of her life. She was a scripter and engineer and she had just finished polishing up an operating system she'd been working on for years. It took quite a few modifications to meet Captain Polly's specifications, but TITAN was a success and the captain and the rest of the crew were so proud of her. It would mean a big bonus at the end of the month and that made Jenny very glad. The more credits, the better.
Retiring to Venus before thirty is no easy feat!
Her roommate Molly had not been so fortunate these past two weeks. She was an engineer in the tech sector but it seemed she just couldn't get things right. It was mistake after mistake and taking sick leave all the time. She had started so well, but now it seemed Captain Polly was ready to keelhaul her and maroon her on some lonely planet.
The past couple days had been bad. She'd had convulsions and seizures and it seemed certain Polly was going to cut her from the crew.
No room for the weak on the Jolly Roger.
Jenny was enjoying tickling the man they'd captured and she meant to go back and check on TITAN when he got paged by Molly back in their sleeping quarters.
Jenny knew she had to have a serious talk with Molly. The Jolly Roger was every engineering girl's dream. The excitement of space and plunder and technology was just more than she could resist. Maybe she could convince Molly to work harder and earn her place on the Jolly Roger.
The door slid open to their two bunk room and Molly was there sitting on the lower bunk with her head cradled in her hands. A bottle of sleeping pills was open and cast to the floor with pills littering the small room.
“What are you doing?” Jenny asked concerned at her friend's predicament. Was she trying to commit suicide? she wondered.
“Ego integrity is down to five percent,” Molly mumbled. “There isn't a decent host on this whole ship. And if I find a new host people will get suspicious. This was a bad idea. If we don't land somewhere populated soon, I might not make it.”
“What are you talking about?” Jenny asked looking at her friend's face. “What host?”
“You'll have to do for now,” Molly said looking deep into Jenny's eyes.
There was a flash and energy flared in the room for a brief instant.
“What happened?” Molly asked groggily.
“Take it easy, Molly. You had one too many,” Jenny said cheerfully as she helped Molly into the bunk bed and covered her with a blanket. “Take a nap and it will all be better in the morning.”
Molly nodded and yawned and then quickly fell asleep.
“The strain on the host is terrible,” she whispered patting Molly gently. “That and a handful of sleeping pills will keep you out of the way for a good long while.”
She rummaged through the room and hid a blaster and a personal forcefield device under her motley colored clothing. The blaster might be noticed, but they were pirates. Even the brainy and nerdy ones.
Jenny stepped to the door when suddenly a great deal of information suddenly flooded her mind concerning recent events on the Jolly Roger.
“Well, I'll be damned,” Jenny said to herself smiling. “Roman Finn and Cathy Rivers...
“I think I have my ticket off this hunk of junk.”
* * * * *
“I want a discount for Roman Finn,” a voice said in a dark room where the only light was cast on a woman. She was stunning and beautiful and wore a short cut scarlet red dress that hugged her body tightly. She had dark black curls that cascaded down her shoulders and sensual brown eyes that stirred temptation but were lined with deep subtle intelligence.
She was in her mid twenties and was not what the man speaking expected from the Assassin's Guild.
“You'll get him for free,” the woman said calmly. “We guarantee our work. He disappeared ten years ago and was assumed dead. The rest will cost a pretty penny though. Our rates have gone up and you want the android. That costs extra. We don't normally do search and salvage missions.”
“Cost is not an issue,” the man said. “How old are you anyway? Are you all the Assassin's Guild is sending? They sent eight men last time.”
“They should have sent me,” she said calmly. “When I take care of a target, they don't come back unless it's as a ghost.”
“I'll take your word for it,” the voice said. “The rest of the funds get transferred as soon as you finish with the list of targets and deliver the android.”
“Fair enough,” the woman said nodding.
“Any questions?” the man asked.
“You say in the brief that they're all extremely ticklish?” the woman asked wanting to confirm.
“It's their weakness,” the man said. “Exploit it.”
“I plan to,” she said mysteriously. “That's why they sent me.”
“What do I call you then?” the man asked.
“Call me Hysteria,” she replied.
* * * * *
Roman was exhausted.
Every three or four keelhauls, the ship's medic would inject him revitalizing drugs to make sure he would not pass out.
Roman had lost count, but he'd already past counting more than ten trips.
The only relief he had was when the were revitalizing him. And that only lasted the time it took him to go from one side of the hall to the other. Then it started all over again.
“Doctor Herbert to the Landing Bay, immediately,” boomed Captain Polly on the the PA system. “We need you to revive a couple prisoners here. We might have lost them.”
The doctor frowned. “And what about this gentleman? He isn't doing so hot himself.”
“I'll finish for you,” Jenny said coming forth cheerfully.
“Do you know how to do this?” the doctor asked skeptically.
“I did two years of medical when I was twelve before realizing engineering and artificial intelligence was the right career for me,” Jenny said with a bright and know-it-all smile.
“Right,” the doctor said frowning. She obviously disliked nerdy engineers. Especially the smart ones. “Tell the girls to give him a couple loops rest in the hall. He won't last long if they are so aggressive with him. Despite what you all think, he's not a toy.”
“Okay, doc,” Jenny said as the doctor walked away.
“Man, oh, man,” Jenny whispered to Roman when the doctor was away. “Surrounded by and tickled by beautiful women, I don't know if I should free you or make you a plaque as the luckiest guy in the universe.”
Roman laughed painfully seeing the humor in the words.
“I'm not going to bother guessing who you are,” he said groaning. The ordeal of the keelhaul was wearing him down. “Just tell me and let's get passed the mystery part before I get keelhauled again.”
“It's me, man, remember?” she said smiling broadly.
“Who?”
“It's David. David Wu.”
To be continued....
NEXT: The Psyjacker
The assassins prepared to enter the safehouse. They needed enter and recover the bodies for their employer. Otherwise they simply would have bombed the building and let the pieces get sucked out into space.
Target One, Codename: Think Tank
Target Two, Codename: Blush
Both were listed as extremely dangerous. Both were targeted for termination.
The Assassin Guild squad was dressed in black and melted away into the shadows of the building complex where their targets were located. They would melt away just as easily when the work was finished.
The leader had been doing these missions for years now. He'd killed everything from super soldiers to politicians to unfaithful spouses. If the price was right, the Assassin Guild would do it.
The price on the heads of these two was actually quite exuberant even for the Guild's standards.
It should have been a piece of cake.
Eight assassins were in place. Targets rarely merited more than one. There were well armed with silenced edged weapons and firearms. They could kill without weapons as well or even poison if that was the wish of the employer. Accidents of course were more expensive and required more time.
This employer didn't have such qualms. So it could be messy so long as it didn't trace back to the employer nor the Guild.
The information regarding the whereabouts of Roman Finn came at a very high price. He was a very difficult person to trace and the employer was aware that there would be extra costs involved. Hence the steep price.
The leader scanned the safe house. It was a small apartment. Two small bedrooms and a single living space. The targets were in bed together and judging from their heart beats and even breathing they were in a restful sleep. There was a stash of weapons in the living space, but none in the immediate bedroom. There was an alarm set up scanning the perimeter of the apartment for motion. That was actually quite easily deactivated.
The door was controlled electronically with an encrypted 20 character code. That took all of five minutes to crack.
Roman Finn was supposed to be a resourceful target, but so far he hadn't done anything the leader had not seen before. His telekinetic abilities were supposed to be formidable, but not likely to help him much in his sleep.
As for Sabrina Trevor, she would be a simple enough target.
Empathy Projector.
What was she going do? Hit them with a case of the blues?
They were ready. All the systems were down and out. All the electronics and the sensors were fully disabled. The door opened silently for just three seconds and that was all that was necessary for eight fully armed assassins to silently enter the pitch dark apartment. Night vision mixed with infrared readings built into the eyes bionically made the room as easy to navigate in as if it were in plain daylight.
They advanced towards the bedroom and could see their targets still asleep.
As they approached a cracking sound was heard as the assassins stepped on small transparent glass spheres which had been placed strategically on the ground. They were practically invisible and made a terribly loud sound that in the silent room might have been that of a small explosion.
The assassins looked from their feet to their targets and they were no longer asleep.
Still, they were unarmed. A simple hand sign from the leader and the eight assassins opened fire. Hot plasma filled the room and steam rose from the bedroom blinding them temporarily.
The steam dispersed and instead of the charred remains of their targets, the one codenamed Think Tank stood inside a bubble of a forcefield in a pair of boxers and nothing more. The woman stood behind him and was likewise protected by the forcefield.
“Impossible!” the leader muttered under his breath knowing that the targets did not have a forcefield device on their persons. It must be some of those psionic abilities their employer failed to be clear about. Still, no forcefield could hold up against a plasma barrage for long.
Apparently, the targets agreed and decided to take the offensive. Weapons flew through the air from their boxes in the living quarters and into Think Tank's hands. He was armed and did not hesitate to fire back.
He had two non-silenced plasma cannons and they sounded with a loud BOOM as he blasted the walls of the bedroom to ash and fired upon the assassins in the apartment's living space. Three assassins were caught off guard and burned to ashes.
The next move by the assassins should have been accurate head shots that, shield or no shield, would take the targets down.
Instead, the leader felt himself drowned in a strange feeling of inadequacy at not being able to strike the targets down efficiently as he had planned and at the same time he felt ferocious raging anger towards his subordinates. They should have done better. He felt inclined to take his weapon and fire on his own men to teach them the penalty for their incompetence.
But his cold instinct and wits kept him from reacting in a such an extreme and impulsive manner.
The same could not be said of his comrades. They turned their weapons on each other and shot each other dead.
“This one is resisting, Roman,” the woman said of the leader.
“No problem,” the target Think Tank replied. He made a movement with one hand and the leader's weapons were wrenched from his grip and an invisible force wrapped around his torso holding him tightly.
“He's a dangerous one,” the woman said dressing quickly pulling on body armor and trying to pack as much as she could. “We don't have much time. Luna is policed by the Space Combat Division. They'll be crawling all over us in minutes, Roman.”
“Who sent you?” Think Tank asked quickly pressing harder with the telekinetic force.
The leader would not respond.
“He's giving off a mean vibe,” the target Blush said warily as she could feel his determination growing. Not even the lowest of the Guild would betray the Assassin's Guild or their employer. And the Leader would be no exception.
“You defeated us. Using primitive technology coupled with your innate psionic abilities,” the leader said.
“You can tell your employer that I have no quarrel with anyone,” Think Tank said. “We all just want to be left alone.”
“Alas, I will not be able to deliver your message,” the leader said shaking his head. “The penalty for failure is a shameful death. Better to die fighting.”
“Tough break,” Think Tank said. “I'm not killing you in cold blood.”
“That is where you prove weakest, Think Tank,” the leader said as his tongue secretly manipulated a hollowed out tooth. “You should have killed me when you had the chance. While your forcefield will protect you from my attacks, I can at least die with the satisfaction of having accomplished part of my mission.”
“Oh, crap, Roman, he's going suicidal, he's..:” Sabrina said from the door as she felt the assassin's emotions slide deep until the dangerous threshold of self-destruction.
The leader broke the hollowed tooth and while ancient assassins used to kill themselves with cyanide, the members of the Assassin's Guild insisted on going out with a bang.
The trigger in the tooth was activated and a chain reaction of organic nature using the chemicals of the human body combined with trace amounts of other chemicals turned the leader's body into a fire bomb.
Think Tank had no opportunity to contain the blast.
The bomb and the apartment exploded.
* * * * *
“Roman,” said a woman's voice. “Wake up.”
It took a couple hard slaps but Roman came to quickly. He was in a mechanical strait jacket that allowed almost no movement. The more he struggled, the more it restrained him.
“Sabrina?” he asked groggily shaking his head in confusion. “No, that's not right. Where am I?” he said looking up at the blurred version of a much younger Polly the Pirate.
“You've been out for quite a long time,” Polly said looking down on him. “We kept you drugged until my tech girls could come up with a solution for those pesky TK Factor abilities you have. We know what frequency your powers work on, because for years we've dodged the powers of that pesky Terran lackey of a Scanner you've got with you. So, the ship is running a concentrated jamming signal focused on you. It's taking up quite a bit of juice, but I don't expect we'll need it running for long. As for your friends, I have them in an airlock in the landing dock. You touch one single hair on my person or that of my crew and they'll take a tumble into space. It's the closest thing to having a plank.”
“I just wanted to talk to Polly,” Roman said rubbing his eyes to try and get a better look at this very young woman who kept saying she was Polly. She was young and pretty. She had a more feminine frame than the Polly he remembered, but she was every bit as tough and intelligent.
“You are speaking to Captain Polly,” she said angrily.
“I mean the Polly who was my friend almost twenty years ago,” Roman rebuked also feeling a bit angry himself.
“Pirates don't have friends,” the pirate said. Her mechanical arm's hook split in two and the ends clicked together like a pair of pincers. “We have profit and reputation, both of which go down the drain if you spend your time making friends.”
“Where is the Polly I knew?” Roman asked.
“You won't be telling this tale to anyone living,” she reasoned. “She's retired. Like every other Polly has done for the past three generations. The mantle is handed on to the next Polly who does her best to keep up the technology and reputation for the next Polly and make enough profit to retire to a nice little villa on Venus.”
“I know you steal and develop technology,” Roman said. “I also know you sell technology. Someone sold a stealthed Valkerie that was used to kidnap Dr. Adel Bowen. And I'm pretty sure it was provided by a pirate. I need to know who that someone is and I sincerely thought that the Polly I knew would give me a hand finding this person. For old times sake.”
“The Polly who is in charge now, would need a powerfully profitable reason to betray one of our respectable clients, if it was indeed we who supplied this person you are seeking,” Polly said candidly. “Is there such a profitable reason?”
Roman paused for a moment and then sighed in resignation.
“I didn't think so,” Polly said patting him gently on the shoulder.
“Strip him,” she ordered her crew who dragged Roman to his feet.
“I want him prepped and ready for keelhaul in ten minutes.”
* * * * *
Qua-lynn was suspended face down in the air with arms stretched out to the sides and her ankles together. Her body formed a 'T' and it was just a mere 30 cm above the body of Cathy who was also in a similar position but face up. Their arms and ankles were held in a sort of force bond that held them stretched and in place. They were clothed only in bra and panties and their toes brushed gently against one another.
Qua-lynn's hair floated as did the rest of her body and she realized that she was in a weightless chamber without artificial gravity. Roman had described the sensation to her, but any description was poor compared to the real thing. The lack of gravity made their awkward and otherwise painful predicament comfortable all things considered. There was no pull on the restraints and their weightlessness allowed their bodies to float free.
They were in what Qua-lynn understood was an airlock. She could see the stars in space through the window and she knew that with a touch of a button they would be hurled into space. Civilized and modern life was full of new and magical apparatus which she could not hope to understand, but life and death was the same here as on KL-19. That she understood very well.
They were both gagged with ball gags and Cathy mumbled into it trying to communicate with Qua-lynn. It was a bit awkward and frustrating to be face to face and not be able to communicate.
Qua-lynn reached out with her mind sending soothing thoughts. The meaning was simple, “Calm down, Cathy, and you can communicate with me.” The words made no sense, but the meaning was there.
Cathy nodded and took a couple deep breaths that helped her relax.
“I was going to tell you to calm down and that everything was going to be all right,” Cathy thought clearly and simply.
Qua-lynn shook her head. “But you don't really know that, right?” Qua-lynn said.
Cathy nodded. “It's not looking good.”
“Death is part of life, Cathy,” Qua-lynn thought softly. “We learn as Ragnar children that there are fates far worse than death.”
The interior door to the ship opened and Mirth stepped in. He had small gravity simulator unit installed on his feet and elbows and he entered gracefully into the room.
He began to speak, but Qua-lynn could not understand his strange Terran tongue. He did not project thoughts as humans did, so if he did not speak Ragnar, she could not understand.
Mirth focused on her and smiled. His facial expressions were somewhat different than she remembered.
“I am not Mirth,” he said in Ragnar, repeating what he had said to Cathy for her benefit. “This unit's system has been rebooted with a new operating system scripted by the cruel and fearless programmers of Polly the Pirate. I have access to all Mirth's databases and all his gadgets. My new system's name is TIckle Torture ANdroid. TITAN for short.”
He held up his mechanical hand and dozens of different tickling tools and gadgets snapped out of their compartments in an instant.
Both Cathy and Qua-lynn shook their heads and made muffled protests.
“You, however,” he added in Ragnar, “may refer to me as your doom...”
* * * * *
Adel was kept prisoner in a containment chamber.
The problem was, that her conscious moments were spent in a virtual reality from which she could not escape unless and exit was programmed for her consciousness. It was the perfect prison set up in her very own mind.
She was tortured from time to time, mostly for psionic energy they needed.
She shuddered at the thought of the terrible TK Bots.
Apparently they needed an impressive amount of psionic energy and that made her wonder what these people were all up to.
She mostly had contact with the six armed woman named Alana and also known as Kali.
There was no way to physically escape, but she decided that maybe she could turn the young woman to her cause.
Today Adel had the young Alana totally at her mercy.
She was stretched out with her eyes closed on the sand of a simulated beach with her arms and legs stretched out like a peacock. She wore a specially sewn black tank top made for six arm that left her belly bare and a black pair of shorts. She was very pretty in an innocent and dangerous sort of way.
Adel had offered to give Alana more insight on her TK Factor ability. The initial evaluation by the Headmaster had classified her as a Mind Reader with mild telepathic abilities. She could determine where people would shoot or where people would aim. She could pick up minute warnings on things about to happen.
Adel considered this a lazy evaluation and offered to help the young lady advance with her skills starting with the basic determination of what they were exactly.
Adel already suspected certain things of Alana's TK Factor powers, but she needed to be sure.
The six-armed woman saw no threat in Adel and agreed to the test the doctor had in mind.
Adel went about inspecting Alana's body but not touching. She knew she must be terribly ticklish but the test did not require heavy tickling to confirm what she wanted to know. Adel made tickling movements with her fingers as if she was going to tickle and conjured thoughts of tickling Alana. There was no reaction.
In normal testing, a powerful psifont or TK Factor subject could not resist reacting even without direct physical stimulus. However, some other sense had to detect what was happening otherwise there would be no reaction. Spoken taunts or visual confirmation of the tickling fingers was usually enough. Some mind readers reacted to the thought of being tickled and they would laugh when someone simply thought of the intention of tickling.
This was clearly not Alana's case and that was why Adel discarded that theory.
What she noticed however was when she truly tickled Alana, there was a real reaction before her fingers touched her.
She would reach out to tickle a bare sole and before her nails would touch there would be a noticeable twitching just before her nails actually make contact with the soft tender sole. Alana's reaction was immediate; a scream followed by laughter and the foot jerked away violently.
Adel smiled and tried her theory at several spots. Having six bare underarms to test her theory on only confirmed that it was not a fluke. She could stimulate tickling but only when she really was going to tickle, would the point to be tickled react before she touched.
Adel was fascinated.
“So what is the verdict?” Alana asked after several minutes of testing.
“Ticklish as they get,” Adel said smiling having enjoyed the tickling test very much. It was the first moment of normality since she had been abducted.
“I mean your theory,” Alana said blushing.
“You have an innate ability not to read minds, but to rather detect intricate patterns of possibilities and successfully determine the most probable outcome,” Adel explained.
Alana's face was blank.
“You can foretell the future,” Adel explained. “It's at a very low level now, but if you worked at it, you could determine events probably several minutes before they happen.”
Alana nodded as she understood. “Could you train me?”
Adel smiled. “Of course, that's what I do best.”
Their conversation was cut short. The Headmaster appeared in the virtual reality and he stormed in their direction.
“You're not supposed to talk with the prisoners, Kali,” he said angrily.
“The Reaper has not prohibited it,” Alana said defiantly.
“I am prohibiting it,” he said with a scowl.
“I am not under contract to you,” she replied coldly. “I'm learning from the doctor and how I spend my free time in no concern of yours.”
The Headmaster considered taking this further, but then simply shook his head and decided against it.
“Have it your way,” he said. “The Reaper will hear of this though, and your free time is up. We'll need more psionic energy and we are gearing up for a reaping. Or are you against us reaping that from the good doctor?”
He tossed his TK bots to the ground and they hovered on the ground ready to attack at his order.
“Put your toys away,” Alana said. “I'll get the energy we need. I'll do it myself. Dr. Bowen is a prisoner and she'll continue to be treated as such.”
The Headmaster grumbled. “I'll be watching.”
And then he disappeared.
“Well?” Adel asked happy to be free of the TK Bots but wondering what was going to happen next.
“Lay down,” Alana ordered.
Adel obeyed and Alana's six arms went to work placing sand on Adel's body until she was totally buried with the exception of her feet. The work went fast and in a couple minutes it was done.
“Can you move?” Alana asked.
Adel tried but she could not.
“Very well,” Alana said sitting at Adel's feet. She waved a wiggling hand at Adel's foot and playfully said “Cuchi, cuchi, cu,” with intent.
Adel automatically began to laugh and struggle deeply even though Alana had not touched her.
“What are you doing?” Adel asked feeling more desperate at the simulated tickling than if she were really tickled.
“Just testing a theory,” Alana said as she drew her nails over Adel's terribly ticklish feet.
The tickling was swift and business-like, but much different than any of the prior tickling she had endured. It was like the difference between being tickled by a friend or a stranger. Alana was not yet a friend, but no longer a stranger and her tickling was without malice or desire to make her suffer.
And although Adel laughed herself to tears, for the first time in a long time, the tickling was not one bit torturous.
Six hands tickled her until she was drained of energy. The same hands dug her out and left her free to contemplate the sunset.
“Thank you. I have to go and do my business for the Reaper. However, later I will want to learn more,” was all Alana said as she departed.
“You're not the only one,” Adel murmured after Alana's departure as the sun set and a bright silver moon rose in the simulation.
* * * * *
Roman was familiar with the keelhaul. He'd been keelhauled almost two decades ago when he had first been on the Jolly Roger.
The Jolly Roger was a huge ship, but it was not in the form of a sea ship and dragging a body through space under the bottom of the ship really didn't make much sense, so Polly the Pirate came up with the idea to give a new spin on the concept of the keel haul.
Inside the main hall where the pirates ate their meals and held their general meetings, there was a chute. It ran the length of the room and was hidden in the floor when not in use. A forcefield held the victim in place and within the access of anyone who wished to step up to the chute. Once the unfortunate victim was pulled by the forcefield thorough the chute until the end of the hall, he or she traveled down a closed tube that went under the entire ship in a huge loop. For those lucky enough to not be ticklish enough for the space pirates, were plunged into water and shot through the tube having to travel through the full loop until they could get another breath of air.
The ticklish were not so fortunate. The tube was not filled with water but rather lined with specially designed elongated and flexible stalks that the technical crew had developed themselves. The tips where soft and they were charged with electricity. When a prisoner was placed inside the tube, the ends of the stalks touched the body of the victim and produced the most ticklish sensations over the unfortunate victim's entire body. The ends of the hundreds of stalks all seemed to have a life of their own. A far worse fate than water because while the keelhauled victim could breathe once he or she emerged from the tube, the ticklish victim was available to be tormented by any of the Jolly Rogers crew who might show interest in tickling the victim.
Unfortunately, as far as Roman could recall, the ENTIRE crew showed interest in tormenting a ticklish victim.
He normally wouldn't mind being manhandled by young and pretty pirate women, but he realized what was in store for him and he felt dread as he was placed in the chute and the smiling pirates awaited their captain.
Polly adjusted the height of the chute so it was about waist high and gave the indication to one of her crew to start the keel haul.
Roman felt the forcefield slowly pull him along the chute head first towards the end of the chute on the other side of the hall. It was an ominous procession to terrible tickle torture.
“I'm the captain,” Polly said walking next to Roman as he slowly approached the end of the hall, “and as such I get first pickings.”
Roman winced at the statement, but tried to remain calm.
“I admire the man that can hold his ticklishness in,” she said. “It is proof of self control and discipline.”
She softly drew a nail of her non-mechanical hand from his heel to the tip of his toes.
There was no self control when it concerned tickling and Roman could not contain his laughter and he laughed loud and out of control. The crew all chuckled and even Polly broke a smile.
“Men are so weak,” Polly said scratching in between his toes and making him laugh even more. “That's why I have a female crew. No weakling men on this ship.”
“You wouldn't say that if I had my TK Factor powers up and running,” Roman said after having laughed hard and loud.
“Poor little Roman,” Polly said patting him gently on the chest with her open hand. “The pirate's log says you spent three months on board the Jolly Roger. You even helped out on a few raids. The last Polly must have really taken a liking to you. Quite unlike a Polly if you ask me.”
“Perhaps she took more than just a liking to me,” Roman said pursing his lips as his brain debated whether Polly's pat was just a pat or a tickle.
Polly resolved the debate and her fingers tickled his chest sending him back into terrible rows of laughter. The last comment seemed to bother her and she beckoned her crew to draw close.
“He's all yours, ladies,” Polly said making way for the crew. “Next words I hear from his lips had better be him begging for a swift death.”
Dozens of hands took to Roman's body and he screamed as they gang tickled him relentlessly. They took great pleasure in their task and Roman feared it would be worse than the last time he was keelhauled all those years ago.
Polly paused at the end of the hall as she listened to Roman's screams and protests. Without looking back she heard a brief pause as he entered the tube and then he released a howl of terror as he entered the tube and the fiber exploited every single ticklish spot on his body.
His screaming laughter was music to Polly's ears. She sighed with pleasure and went off to the bridge.
* * * * *
While Roman screamed Qua-lynn and Cathy suffered a similar predicament.
TITAN took to his victims with a sadistic streak Cathy would never have thought possible of Mirth.
He started with Qua-lynn and he did not bother to search her body of ticklish spots. He went straight to her tattoos and Qua-lynn quickly succumbed to the tickling. She had tattoos on her underarms, around her navel and on the soles of her feet.
TITAN laughed maliciously as he tortured these spots. He offered no respite, no rest whatsoever and he relished watching Cathy's face as he tortured Qua-lynn because she knew that this was what was awaiting her and the dread was probably clear on her face.
Qua-lynn shook her head in exhaustion as TITAN tickled her spots. Having the TK Factor automatically meant off the charts ticklishness. Cathy frowned and waited for TITAN to turn his attention to her.
He did not. At least not directly.
TITAN took Qua-lynn's force restraints and placed them near Cathy's ribs.
Cathy could see what the tickler had in mind.
He said some words to Qua-lynn in Ragnar and he jeered at Cathy as he knew she understood what was happening.
Qua-lynn shook her head no as TITAN tickled the sun around her navel making her laugh into her gag and bring tears from her eyes.
TITAN made a harsh command to Qua-lynn, but she continued to shake her head and bear the tickling torture. Cathy saw TITAN insert a special soft brush into Qua-lynn's deep belly button and the brush whirled stimulating the walls of the navel. Qua-lynn's eyes went wide in their sockets and despite this terrible torture she still would not tickle.
Cathy could bear no more of the torturous situation and she looked meaningfully into Qua-lynn's eyes and nodded affirmatively. Qua-lynn nodded back. There was no need for telepathy.
Qua-lynn's fingers dug into Cathy's ribs and she instantly started laughing into the gag as the tickling sensations invaded her body and took full control of her reactions.
“Awww,” TITAN said caustically, “The little Terran Space Officer sacrifices herself for the sake of her friend. I think I might cry if I had tear glands.”
Mirth would never act in such a manner. This was vile programming of a cruel and sadistic operating system.
“I don't think your friend knows what Sodium Titulate is,” TITAN said evilly as he gave Qua-lynn a quick tickle to her underarms to keep her tickling Cathy.
TITAN lifted and index finger to tickle Qua-lynn's rib cage and poked her injecting the substance into her blood stream.
“A shame she doesn't know she's just become four times as ticklish...” TITAN said as he strode down to the women's feet. He pressed his index finger to Cathy's sole and injected a dose of Sodium Titulate.
Cathy instantly became more ticklish and Qua-lynn's reluctant tickling became hellish. Sodium Titulate was considered very dangerous for psi-fonts and TK Factor subjects. Already high levels of ticklishness coupled with the powerful chemical could make for potentially lethal outcomes. Qua-lynn noticed the change in Cathy's ticklishness and held back.
“Well, if an android wants a job done right he'd better not depend on humans to do it,” TITAN said. “Humans are always slacking, and then for us it's just work, work, work.”
He pulled two hard bristled brushed from his installed gadgets and began to work on both their feet. For Qua-lynn he took particular interest in tracing the tattoos and for Cathy she knew Mirth had a digit map traced out with her most sensitive spots.
TITAN whistled a tune as he worked and watched with satisfaction as the two women's bodies shook and twisted within their restraints. The brushes were very effective on the
soles. Cathy had to admit that Mirth had the very best collection of tickling tools. She just didn't like being on the receiving end.
Cathy watched Qua-lynn's body go limp and she felt blackness crash in on her as well.
She could hear TITAN curse in frustration like a foul mouthed pirate as she slipped thankfully into oblivion.
Mirth would never swear, Cathy thought to herself as she passed out.
* * * * *
Jenny had been on Polly's crew for two months now and she had had the time of her life. She was a scripter and engineer and she had just finished polishing up an operating system she'd been working on for years. It took quite a few modifications to meet Captain Polly's specifications, but TITAN was a success and the captain and the rest of the crew were so proud of her. It would mean a big bonus at the end of the month and that made Jenny very glad. The more credits, the better.
Retiring to Venus before thirty is no easy feat!
Her roommate Molly had not been so fortunate these past two weeks. She was an engineer in the tech sector but it seemed she just couldn't get things right. It was mistake after mistake and taking sick leave all the time. She had started so well, but now it seemed Captain Polly was ready to keelhaul her and maroon her on some lonely planet.
The past couple days had been bad. She'd had convulsions and seizures and it seemed certain Polly was going to cut her from the crew.
No room for the weak on the Jolly Roger.
Jenny was enjoying tickling the man they'd captured and she meant to go back and check on TITAN when he got paged by Molly back in their sleeping quarters.
Jenny knew she had to have a serious talk with Molly. The Jolly Roger was every engineering girl's dream. The excitement of space and plunder and technology was just more than she could resist. Maybe she could convince Molly to work harder and earn her place on the Jolly Roger.
The door slid open to their two bunk room and Molly was there sitting on the lower bunk with her head cradled in her hands. A bottle of sleeping pills was open and cast to the floor with pills littering the small room.
“What are you doing?” Jenny asked concerned at her friend's predicament. Was she trying to commit suicide? she wondered.
“Ego integrity is down to five percent,” Molly mumbled. “There isn't a decent host on this whole ship. And if I find a new host people will get suspicious. This was a bad idea. If we don't land somewhere populated soon, I might not make it.”
“What are you talking about?” Jenny asked looking at her friend's face. “What host?”
“You'll have to do for now,” Molly said looking deep into Jenny's eyes.
There was a flash and energy flared in the room for a brief instant.
“What happened?” Molly asked groggily.
“Take it easy, Molly. You had one too many,” Jenny said cheerfully as she helped Molly into the bunk bed and covered her with a blanket. “Take a nap and it will all be better in the morning.”
Molly nodded and yawned and then quickly fell asleep.
“The strain on the host is terrible,” she whispered patting Molly gently. “That and a handful of sleeping pills will keep you out of the way for a good long while.”
She rummaged through the room and hid a blaster and a personal forcefield device under her motley colored clothing. The blaster might be noticed, but they were pirates. Even the brainy and nerdy ones.
Jenny stepped to the door when suddenly a great deal of information suddenly flooded her mind concerning recent events on the Jolly Roger.
“Well, I'll be damned,” Jenny said to herself smiling. “Roman Finn and Cathy Rivers...
“I think I have my ticket off this hunk of junk.”
* * * * *
“I want a discount for Roman Finn,” a voice said in a dark room where the only light was cast on a woman. She was stunning and beautiful and wore a short cut scarlet red dress that hugged her body tightly. She had dark black curls that cascaded down her shoulders and sensual brown eyes that stirred temptation but were lined with deep subtle intelligence.
She was in her mid twenties and was not what the man speaking expected from the Assassin's Guild.
“You'll get him for free,” the woman said calmly. “We guarantee our work. He disappeared ten years ago and was assumed dead. The rest will cost a pretty penny though. Our rates have gone up and you want the android. That costs extra. We don't normally do search and salvage missions.”
“Cost is not an issue,” the man said. “How old are you anyway? Are you all the Assassin's Guild is sending? They sent eight men last time.”
“They should have sent me,” she said calmly. “When I take care of a target, they don't come back unless it's as a ghost.”
“I'll take your word for it,” the voice said. “The rest of the funds get transferred as soon as you finish with the list of targets and deliver the android.”
“Fair enough,” the woman said nodding.
“Any questions?” the man asked.
“You say in the brief that they're all extremely ticklish?” the woman asked wanting to confirm.
“It's their weakness,” the man said. “Exploit it.”
“I plan to,” she said mysteriously. “That's why they sent me.”
“What do I call you then?” the man asked.
“Call me Hysteria,” she replied.
* * * * *
Roman was exhausted.
Every three or four keelhauls, the ship's medic would inject him revitalizing drugs to make sure he would not pass out.
Roman had lost count, but he'd already past counting more than ten trips.
The only relief he had was when the were revitalizing him. And that only lasted the time it took him to go from one side of the hall to the other. Then it started all over again.
“Doctor Herbert to the Landing Bay, immediately,” boomed Captain Polly on the the PA system. “We need you to revive a couple prisoners here. We might have lost them.”
The doctor frowned. “And what about this gentleman? He isn't doing so hot himself.”
“I'll finish for you,” Jenny said coming forth cheerfully.
“Do you know how to do this?” the doctor asked skeptically.
“I did two years of medical when I was twelve before realizing engineering and artificial intelligence was the right career for me,” Jenny said with a bright and know-it-all smile.
“Right,” the doctor said frowning. She obviously disliked nerdy engineers. Especially the smart ones. “Tell the girls to give him a couple loops rest in the hall. He won't last long if they are so aggressive with him. Despite what you all think, he's not a toy.”
“Okay, doc,” Jenny said as the doctor walked away.
“Man, oh, man,” Jenny whispered to Roman when the doctor was away. “Surrounded by and tickled by beautiful women, I don't know if I should free you or make you a plaque as the luckiest guy in the universe.”
Roman laughed painfully seeing the humor in the words.
“I'm not going to bother guessing who you are,” he said groaning. The ordeal of the keelhaul was wearing him down. “Just tell me and let's get passed the mystery part before I get keelhauled again.”
“It's me, man, remember?” she said smiling broadly.
“Who?”
“It's David. David Wu.”
To be continued....
NEXT: The Psyjacker
