Excerpt from Immune
CHAPTER ONE
DAY ONE
The expedition was in its second year on a once living planet that was now a dead lump of rock, circling in space. The
daytime temperature was a constant one hundred-eighteen degrees with wind gusts of seven klectons. The nighttime
temperature fell to fourteen below zero with winds equal to that of daytime. As unbearable as it was, with grey skies, frigid
winds and parched soil, the archaeological team was grateful for the opportunity to study the ancient society. Once
awesome in its technology, now gone with few clues to its demise. Mayton Rude, the head of the team, was a swarthy
man with a head of beautiful thick, auburn hair. His skin was tan and lined from two years of excavating, investigating and
cataloging the birth and death of an entire planet. Nuclear winter had long past, but its testimony of death would be
eternal.
Mayton and his team had made an unusual discovery in a particularly advanced area of civilization. About ten feet
beneath the surface of the planet, in a once inhabited area, a safe or a vault was unearthed. Inside the safe were tightly
pressed fiber units from plant materials of the region, infused with what seemed to be a petrified clay substance of
unknown origin. Mayton speculated that it must be highly religious and well prized to have been that well concealed. As
Nathan, the team doctor prepared to run carbon dating on the fiber units—
Mayton awakened to the sounds of his favorite crystal of ocean waves with the shrill cry of a distant sea gull. He moaned
as he reluctantly opened his eyes.
“Same dream, dear?” asked his wife, Gretchen.
“Same dream, but each time it goes a little further. Fascinating, really.”
“You’ve had that same dream for as long as I’ve known you. No answer yet as to the meaning?”
“No, but the fact that it progresses gives me hope that I’ll solve the mystery before I grow old and die.”
“Speaking of dying, don’t you have something for me, Mayton?”
“Sometimes I think you’re even more perverted than I am. What would I have done if I hadn’t found you? Lived the rest of
my life pretending that sex wasn’t important?” he asked as he pulled Gretchen close.
“Be careful with that thing, you’re going to bruise me,” she gasped as she sank into his arms.
Mayton and Gretchen started each morning of their married life the same way. They thrashed quietly and reached
orgasms in total silence. They had long since let go of their guilty feelings regarding their perversion and agreed that
even if theirs really was a sick relationship like the GOD said, they fulfilled each other totally, so it was good. Good for
them anyway, and that was all that counted. They slept in each other’s arms until the alarm went off. Every morning the
same: alarm, sex, sleep, alarm. The same ritual, but it was never boring.
“How many other couples do you think there are like us, Mayton?” Gretchen asked as she stretched and brushed her
long blonde hair from her eyes. “I mean people who still have carnal knowledge?”
“I don’t really know, but I estimate it’s about two-percent in this country. But I think it’s a lot less in lesser countries and
almost nonexistent in the still savage countries,” he said seriously.
“Mayton, how would you know a thing like that?” Gretchen gasped.
“This is Tuesday, right? I hope to have more to tell you on the subject tonight.”
“I can hardly wait, but I’ll be late tonight. My publisher wants to meet with me. She has another Ollie Raccoon book
assignment for me. I sure hope it’s not all crap like the last one, Ollie Raccoon Whips the Sissy Boys. I found it personally
embarrassing. Is their perversion any worse than ours?”
“I don’t believe we are perverted. I believe that substantive sex is the way that our Creator meant it to be and–”
“You mean that it’s just more GOD propaganda?” she whispered.
“Just like–”
But, a shrill bell emanating from their central telecom unit broke her train of thought. They grabbed for their robes and
dashed for their main room as the screen lit up with the nation’s most holy symbol, The Flag.
“Mayton, Gretchen,” the melodic voice coaxed, “please join us as we pledge our lives.”
“I pledge allegiance to the most sacred flag of the Uniform States of America and my life to the central government which
is my guardian and benefactor, from which all good comes. One nation moving in unison and united in the promise of
obedience and service for all.”
As the image of the flag faded, an all too familiar voice began. “Vice-Presider James Turnbull’s, A Moment from History, is
a daily program dedicated to the cultural advancement of our citizens. Today’s subject is, Medical Malpractice. Mr.
Turnbull.” Medical Malpractice was a sad and dangerous condition of the ancient medical fraternity. Back before the
Reformation, medical doctors thought themselves superior. They were not the hard working servants of mankind they are
today, but pompous, conceited money-grubbing users. They worked together in gangs under an agreement called,
Consultation, which was archaic-Latin for, share the wealth. If a citizen came to one of these arrogant individuals but did
not have a great deal of money to give the doctor, he was sent away without medical care. Society was sick and ailing and
there was no one to care for it. After the Reformation, the GOD in their wisdom made sure that every American was
supplied with lifetime medical care, free of charge. And the GOD trained caring, qualified medical personnel that are
grateful for the opportunity to care for the citizens of our great country. Thanks be to our GOD.”
Turnbull’s face disappeared and was replaced with the face of Mayton’s central supervisor, Myron Digby.
“Good morning, Gretchen, Mayton. Please don’t forget that your input is due on all your patients that suffer from Liberal
tendencies. So far, you are the only doctor in my sector that hasn’t reported in. Now we both know that’s impossible. Just
pay a little closer attention, or we might think that you’re covering for them for some reason. But of course, that’s quite
ridiculous. You a Liberal? My, I’ve made a joke. Do have a nice day, Mayton, Gretchen. Out.”
As the screen faded, Mayton and Gretchen both whispered, “Asshole,” and laughed.
“Just what did you say an asshole was?” asked Gretchen as she squinted her royal blue eyes.
“I really don’t know. Grandfather Rude said it a lot and it seemed to please him. He referred to my father as an asshole
quite often. He always swore that some other man beat him to grandmother, because my father couldn’t possibly be his.
But according to my father, grandfather was a lunatic, which from what I understand if even worse than a Liberal,” he
explained.
“Then he was a pervert also,” she said nodding her head.
“That’s the only way it was commonly done, back then. But they decided that society was falling apart because of it, so
our GOD helped the populace evolve past sex.”
“Evolve past–what a ludicrous idea. If intelligence quotients were any lower, people would start flowering,” Gretchen
mocked with her chin held high. “Ollie Raccoon says, ‘Sex makes you smarter.’
What do you think?”
“I’m sure my grandfather would have agreed with you. It’s really unfortunate that you never met him. I know he would have
loved you.”
“Let’s see, Byron Rude, distinguished Psychometric Surgeon, died when you were just coming into plurality, didn’t he?”
asked Gretchen.
“Yes, and it’s funny but I still miss him. The day before he left, he told me a lot of strange things and said that he would
always be with me and then he laughed. And it wasn’t long after he died that my now famous dream started. My mother
said that it was probably some suggestion that the old lunatic gave me. She also said that his disappearance was a good
riddance. That’s when I really started hating her, I guess. I had always related better to my grandfather than to them.
They were so Central Committee.”
“Who are you going to throw to the committee? Digby won’t give up until you come up with some names. If you don’t, you’ll
be suspect. Frankly, I don’t believe that they just want the names to research genetic flaws, as our GOD says. There
have been too many people like us who have just disappeared.”
“I’ll have to go through my files. I just don’t know,” frowned Mayton.
“You think that the central committee had something to do with your grandfather’s death?”
“That was before the central committee, actually. He and his partner both died when the transition was taking place. I
really don’t want to talk about the circumstances. You know it gives me a headache.”
“Don’t talk about it. I was just wondering about a time frame, that’s all.”
“It was right after the mastoid surgery he performed on me.”
“I don’t think I know what your surgery was for, Mayton.”
“I’m not sure. Grandfather said I needed it, so I agreed. He was the one person in my life that I trusted completely until I
met you, of course,” he smiled as he pulled her close and kissed her nose.
“Not now, Mayton. We Loyal Preservationists are never late to work, not even because of sexing. We protect, preserve
and produce!” she announced mockingly.
“I’d better hurry too, my Quizzler will be calling soon,” he said as he headed for the personal hygiene room to try and beat
his shaggy red hair into submission.
CHAPTER ONE
DAY ONE
The expedition was in its second year on a once living planet that was now a dead lump of rock, circling in space. The
daytime temperature was a constant one hundred-eighteen degrees with wind gusts of seven klectons. The nighttime
temperature fell to fourteen below zero with winds equal to that of daytime. As unbearable as it was, with grey skies, frigid
winds and parched soil, the archaeological team was grateful for the opportunity to study the ancient society. Once
awesome in its technology, now gone with few clues to its demise. Mayton Rude, the head of the team, was a swarthy
man with a head of beautiful thick, auburn hair. His skin was tan and lined from two years of excavating, investigating and
cataloging the birth and death of an entire planet. Nuclear winter had long past, but its testimony of death would be
eternal.
Mayton and his team had made an unusual discovery in a particularly advanced area of civilization. About ten feet
beneath the surface of the planet, in a once inhabited area, a safe or a vault was unearthed. Inside the safe were tightly
pressed fiber units from plant materials of the region, infused with what seemed to be a petrified clay substance of
unknown origin. Mayton speculated that it must be highly religious and well prized to have been that well concealed. As
Nathan, the team doctor prepared to run carbon dating on the fiber units—
Mayton awakened to the sounds of his favorite crystal of ocean waves with the shrill cry of a distant sea gull. He moaned
as he reluctantly opened his eyes.
“Same dream, dear?” asked his wife, Gretchen.
“Same dream, but each time it goes a little further. Fascinating, really.”
“You’ve had that same dream for as long as I’ve known you. No answer yet as to the meaning?”
“No, but the fact that it progresses gives me hope that I’ll solve the mystery before I grow old and die.”
“Speaking of dying, don’t you have something for me, Mayton?”
“Sometimes I think you’re even more perverted than I am. What would I have done if I hadn’t found you? Lived the rest of
my life pretending that sex wasn’t important?” he asked as he pulled Gretchen close.
“Be careful with that thing, you’re going to bruise me,” she gasped as she sank into his arms.
Mayton and Gretchen started each morning of their married life the same way. They thrashed quietly and reached
orgasms in total silence. They had long since let go of their guilty feelings regarding their perversion and agreed that
even if theirs really was a sick relationship like the GOD said, they fulfilled each other totally, so it was good. Good for
them anyway, and that was all that counted. They slept in each other’s arms until the alarm went off. Every morning the
same: alarm, sex, sleep, alarm. The same ritual, but it was never boring.
“How many other couples do you think there are like us, Mayton?” Gretchen asked as she stretched and brushed her
long blonde hair from her eyes. “I mean people who still have carnal knowledge?”
“I don’t really know, but I estimate it’s about two-percent in this country. But I think it’s a lot less in lesser countries and
almost nonexistent in the still savage countries,” he said seriously.
“Mayton, how would you know a thing like that?” Gretchen gasped.
“This is Tuesday, right? I hope to have more to tell you on the subject tonight.”
“I can hardly wait, but I’ll be late tonight. My publisher wants to meet with me. She has another Ollie Raccoon book
assignment for me. I sure hope it’s not all crap like the last one, Ollie Raccoon Whips the Sissy Boys. I found it personally
embarrassing. Is their perversion any worse than ours?”
“I don’t believe we are perverted. I believe that substantive sex is the way that our Creator meant it to be and–”
“You mean that it’s just more GOD propaganda?” she whispered.
“Just like–”
But, a shrill bell emanating from their central telecom unit broke her train of thought. They grabbed for their robes and
dashed for their main room as the screen lit up with the nation’s most holy symbol, The Flag.
“Mayton, Gretchen,” the melodic voice coaxed, “please join us as we pledge our lives.”
“I pledge allegiance to the most sacred flag of the Uniform States of America and my life to the central government which
is my guardian and benefactor, from which all good comes. One nation moving in unison and united in the promise of
obedience and service for all.”
As the image of the flag faded, an all too familiar voice began. “Vice-Presider James Turnbull’s, A Moment from History, is
a daily program dedicated to the cultural advancement of our citizens. Today’s subject is, Medical Malpractice. Mr.
Turnbull.” Medical Malpractice was a sad and dangerous condition of the ancient medical fraternity. Back before the
Reformation, medical doctors thought themselves superior. They were not the hard working servants of mankind they are
today, but pompous, conceited money-grubbing users. They worked together in gangs under an agreement called,
Consultation, which was archaic-Latin for, share the wealth. If a citizen came to one of these arrogant individuals but did
not have a great deal of money to give the doctor, he was sent away without medical care. Society was sick and ailing and
there was no one to care for it. After the Reformation, the GOD in their wisdom made sure that every American was
supplied with lifetime medical care, free of charge. And the GOD trained caring, qualified medical personnel that are
grateful for the opportunity to care for the citizens of our great country. Thanks be to our GOD.”
Turnbull’s face disappeared and was replaced with the face of Mayton’s central supervisor, Myron Digby.
“Good morning, Gretchen, Mayton. Please don’t forget that your input is due on all your patients that suffer from Liberal
tendencies. So far, you are the only doctor in my sector that hasn’t reported in. Now we both know that’s impossible. Just
pay a little closer attention, or we might think that you’re covering for them for some reason. But of course, that’s quite
ridiculous. You a Liberal? My, I’ve made a joke. Do have a nice day, Mayton, Gretchen. Out.”
As the screen faded, Mayton and Gretchen both whispered, “Asshole,” and laughed.
“Just what did you say an asshole was?” asked Gretchen as she squinted her royal blue eyes.
“I really don’t know. Grandfather Rude said it a lot and it seemed to please him. He referred to my father as an asshole
quite often. He always swore that some other man beat him to grandmother, because my father couldn’t possibly be his.
But according to my father, grandfather was a lunatic, which from what I understand if even worse than a Liberal,” he
explained.
“Then he was a pervert also,” she said nodding her head.
“That’s the only way it was commonly done, back then. But they decided that society was falling apart because of it, so
our GOD helped the populace evolve past sex.”
“Evolve past–what a ludicrous idea. If intelligence quotients were any lower, people would start flowering,” Gretchen
mocked with her chin held high. “Ollie Raccoon says, ‘Sex makes you smarter.’
What do you think?”
“I’m sure my grandfather would have agreed with you. It’s really unfortunate that you never met him. I know he would have
loved you.”
“Let’s see, Byron Rude, distinguished Psychometric Surgeon, died when you were just coming into plurality, didn’t he?”
asked Gretchen.
“Yes, and it’s funny but I still miss him. The day before he left, he told me a lot of strange things and said that he would
always be with me and then he laughed. And it wasn’t long after he died that my now famous dream started. My mother
said that it was probably some suggestion that the old lunatic gave me. She also said that his disappearance was a good
riddance. That’s when I really started hating her, I guess. I had always related better to my grandfather than to them.
They were so Central Committee.”
“Who are you going to throw to the committee? Digby won’t give up until you come up with some names. If you don’t, you’ll
be suspect. Frankly, I don’t believe that they just want the names to research genetic flaws, as our GOD says. There
have been too many people like us who have just disappeared.”
“I’ll have to go through my files. I just don’t know,” frowned Mayton.
“You think that the central committee had something to do with your grandfather’s death?”
“That was before the central committee, actually. He and his partner both died when the transition was taking place. I
really don’t want to talk about the circumstances. You know it gives me a headache.”
“Don’t talk about it. I was just wondering about a time frame, that’s all.”
“It was right after the mastoid surgery he performed on me.”
“I don’t think I know what your surgery was for, Mayton.”
“I’m not sure. Grandfather said I needed it, so I agreed. He was the one person in my life that I trusted completely until I
met you, of course,” he smiled as he pulled her close and kissed her nose.
“Not now, Mayton. We Loyal Preservationists are never late to work, not even because of sexing. We protect, preserve
and produce!” she announced mockingly.
“I’d better hurry too, my Quizzler will be calling soon,” he said as he headed for the personal hygiene room to try and beat
his shaggy red hair into submission.
| © 2002 Cheryl Gray all rights reserved – no part of this work may be copied or disseminated in any form without the express written consent of the author. |