Return to Sender
by Jennifer Christine
Part 7

This is the end part of the first phase - the next phase is well under way and I shall continue to post as normal

The Rise and Rise of Helen of Brisbane.

It was a few months later after I had bought the Old Governor’s Residence in Sydney that I began to be noticed — The social elite were always on the lookout for jumpups and tall poppies to put down. I kept my apartment in Brisbane just for the convenience.

I had shown myself at the Melbourne Cup and Oaks Races (Horses) and been in the Pavillion at the Test Match at the Gabba when Australia won by an innings and 300 runs against England (I wonder how that happened?).
I was seen at the prestigious gatherings all over the country.

I engineered my surroundings, I engineered my friends.
It was while I was doing this that I found myself suddenly confronted by a lovely guy who wanted me for arm candy.

Mike was a mover and shaker, he got what he wanted, whenever he wanted it. He was lovely and exciting and rich. As was I.

“May I have this dance Helen?” He suavely gathered me into his arms and set off across the dance floor, “Do you come here often?” He smiled and ignored my rolling eyes as he maneuvered me around the other couples. “I only ask because I wondered about you and no one seems to know where you came from, you just appeared”.

He looked me in the eye and I felt a prickling at the base of my neck. Not nice. It actually felt like he was trying to read my mind. I knew the feeling, it was like Molly’s old signature.

I let him see a bland and rather nice surface level that thought he was dishy and held no surprises. He continued to regard me as he swept around looking for things that might be contrary or likely to be hiding secrets. ‘There are no secrets here’, I continued to think bland thoughts with a little bit of sex on top to distract him.

When the dance was over he escorted me back to the table I was at and sat attentively as he ordered me a glass of Pinot Grigiot and gazed into my eyes.
“What an unusual woman you are, and so beautiful, where do you come from?”

“Well, I was born in Brissy and grew up there, I went to uni there and I live here and there, nothing mysterious about me at all”. I was going to give him a Jedi, ‘I am not the woman you seek.’ When I realised he might be a great lover and father to my children — he’s rich too.

Are you checking me out Mike? I smiled as I gazed into his eyes. All of a sudden I was aware that he was pressuring me mentally. Cheeky sod. I wonder if he got all the other babes into bed that way.
He leaned in for a kiss and I gave him one — I nearly gave him one round the ear with my bag, but I thought it might be a good idea to play the game. As our lips touched, I felt an even stronger wave of pressure and rogation — he was questing for my secrets big time — I supposed he must be like me but not so high up the food chain. He persisted without much luck, finding only nice thoughts.

He’d obviously got the technique weighed off, but needed contact with the victim to get information. He was a bad un!
As he tried to open my second level having found nothing at level one, he left open a tiny crack that I could squeeze into without him feeling me. I took a quick look round — high level gambler, wheeler dealer, looks like he’d latched on to a few high level people and a few low lifes — usual not so nice Robin Hood trick — rob from everyone to give to him.

I backed out quickly and let him think he was winning me over with his charms.

It actually made me feel a bit nauseous as he was being a bit over the top with his ideas for our immediate future. I was NOT going to be sucking on THAT in the near future and ‘No’ he wouldn’t be putting it there afterwards!!

While he was ‘charming’ me, I had a think about how I was going to exact a little revenge for those he had obviously misused in the past. I excused myself to go for a pee and powder my nose. I kept an eye on him with my mind net as I sat in the loo thinking. I watched as he surreptitiously dropped a little powder into my drink. *Molly, did you see that?*

*Yes Helen, it’s cocaine.*

*Would you beam it into his drink please?*

*There’s a lot in there, it may kill him.*

*Would it have killed me?*

*No, it’s just he has a lot in his system already.*

*Molly, did you notice he did a mind sweep on me?*

*No, I was otherwise engaged, I’m doing a training schedule for you.*

*Molly, concentrate, this guy is at least a level 3 I don’t want to kill him, he may be worth saving. And I don’t want him to kill me either*

*My goodness, I see what you mean, he’s giving off all sorts of vibes. He’s not able to direct it as well as you, but he’s got some power…… I don’t think he’s from Earth.* molly added a few seconds later

*Why?*

*Chromosomes are wrong.*”

*Database him and see if you can sort him out, let me know when you’ve got a handle on him — this could be a bad sign. 40,000 years with nothing and suddenly we’ve got two of us wandering around in one place. Coincidences like that are long odds.*

I went back to the table, “Sorry, bit of a queue”. I imagined a queue and chatting to some air head just as he swept my thoughts to see if I was lying.

*Molly, did you remove the cocaine?*

*Oops,* then, *…..gone now*

I sipped on the drink, “Eew this has got warm, could you get me another”. I looked at Mike’s face and he blandly turned to the passing waiter, Another for the lady.

I mentally added- and *no cocaine please*.

The new drink came. *Rohypnol added, no cocaine* Molly advised.

I looked at Mike and said, “How much did you pay him to spike my drink?”

Mike looked a bit amazed and said nothing.

“I’d have gone to bed with you…. without that incentive. But not now.” I rose to leave. I felt Mike trying to mental me into submission and let it slide off and then made it look like I was suffering from a headache. He smiled, it looked like a smile of gotcha. “C’mon, I’ll get you home”

He took my arm and pointed me towards the door; I pretended to follow his lead.
He nodded to the waiter who was obviously not one and I slipped a tag on him so Molly could follow him- *Who is he Molly?*
*General Factotum (Gopher), appears to be in Mike’s entourage.*
*Pop him with the cocaine after we leave.*

*Thanks Helen. I’m going to have to steal some from Mike, I sent the other lot down the drain*

*You mean Mike’s got more? Find it all and destroy it Helen., then empty his bank account into mine and then overnight, trash his car and apartment. I’ll dump him in a minute*

I was going to give him a break but no one does drugs on my watch. I was seriously displeased

*He’s got a lot of money Helen, 8 zeros. It’ll be traceable.*

*Disperse it to all the women in shelters and all the people who didn’t eat this morning.*

*Feed the world?* Molly queried.

*Save the Children I think*

*Consider it done.*

*Oh, he had a lot of drugs, there’s going to be some very upset people. I’m tapping the phones and his network. I’ll remove all his assets and leave the next rung up the ladder for later*

*That’s excellent.*

“Right, here we are”, the ‘waiter’ got out of the car which he’d brought round. He nodded to Mike and walked back into the car park. I saw him collapse just as we drove off. Molly had obviously given him the hit of his life.

“Let’s go to my place”, I suggested eagerly. The arrogant SOB leered at me as he leapt into the traffic.

These 7 series Beamers are quite nice. I ran my hand over the flawless leather, thinking — ‘won’t be quite so nice tomorrow. Then I’m going to destroy you’

We arrived at the block and I led him by the hand to my apartment. There was a blanket on the apartment — no signals in or out so there was no one going to trace a signal. His car had already gone off the map — he’d left it on the street as my car was in the basement allocation.
They’d find his burnt out in the dockyard tomorrow (after it had been thoroughly stripped by Molly for origin clues)

“Come in”, I smiled generously. He cradled me in his arms and kissed me, I sensed the pressure wave to undress and I started to do so. Following his directives as he sat on the bed. “There’s some good scotch on the bar”. I pointed. He smiled and walked over to the bar. I felled him there on the rug when his back was turned. I floated him onto the sofa and sat on the coffee table.

“So Moriarty, what do I do with you now?” I rubbed my hands together to warm myself — I had got a chill to the spine knowing how close one can come to being under someone else’s power.
*Any answers yet Molly?* I slung a thought skywards.

*The car was clean, he seems to be living away from his people. It’s been destroyed. I ran it into a concrete headwall in the dockyard — it caught fire. The waiter is in a serious condition, he was a liver failure candidate — it failed with the cocaine load.*

*Thought as much - leave him a long time before he gets better.*
*Sorry it’s not possible to heal him he was dying anyway this just sped it up.*

I felt guilty — I hadn’t meant to knock him off. *Oh dear.* I sent

*He’s killed before, don’t feel guilty.* I smiled at that, justice done. I didn’t mind being judge jury and executioner. It was my job.

*Thanks Molly.*

I looked at Mike, and decided to invade. I put on a cup of tea and when it was brewed I sat down opposite him. Now let’s see what little secrets you’ve got in there.

After an hour I sat back horrified. He was 245 years old and had come from a system several light years from ours — a name that meant nothing to me but was in the direction of Casseopia.
He’d been here 50 years and amassed a good deal of capital — which was no longer there.
He’d killed several hundred people in his quest for power.
He’d raped several thousand women using drugs and mental pressure.
He was here on his own behalf — and alone.
He was about to die……. I had made my own decision on that

I woke him up. “Mike darling, if you’re not going to be a man, would you do me a favour and go home.”

He looked at me with bloodshot eyes and wondered I what the hell was going on, he felt awful — worse than at any time in his life. He tried to rise to his feet and slumped back.
“God I feel awful.”

“Serves you right, you alien toerag. Time you got your wages of sin.”

He looked at me, “You know, you know who I am?” He looked puzzled, and a little guilty.

I smiled back at him — a touch angry that I’d let my own anger show. “You mustn’t go round killing the natives dear, they’re not yours”. I admonished. “Now out you go”

“I thought there was something odd about you when I danced with you, normally when I command the effect is instant. It was too slow, I just thought you were a bit more relaxed and that was why. Where are you from? We could make a great team” He tried to get conversational to see if he could distract me. Then I felt a sudden pressure wave of him trying to get at me, trying to strike me down, the strongest he’d tried. Was this as strong as he could do?

I sent him one back and he danced in the moonlight. Like a marionette. He looked at me as I floated him to the ceiling and spun him round and then dropped him on his feet again. The look of fear and realization too hard to mistake.

*Too strong for you little boy*.
“Off you go pet and don’t come back” — I wiped his memory of me and sent him on his way. He walked out to where his car had been and looked around — then he took out his phone and presently a Camaro came round the corner and burbled it’s little 5 litre song at him as he got in.

*Keep me up to date Molly.*

*Will do Helen, goodnight.*

I woke about 9am and stepped with my first coffee onto the balcony. I listened to the news but I guess it was too soon.

*Good morning Helen, just thought I’d let you know that when Mike got home last night, he got a phone call from the drug dealers asking where the stash had gone. They’d gone to refill and drop off the money and there was nothing — not a nickel bag. It’s up here in the cool room — well it’s up here in the Mare Ibrium actually*

*Thanks Molly*

*The police are a bit sus about you though, as they’ve been watching Mike for a while and he was in your apartment for less time than usual for a mark!*

*So what does that mean?*

* He usually stays the night.* I could hear Molly smile. If a computer can smile.

*Ah, news just coming through. Mike’s at an ATM and he can’t get any money out.*

*He hasn’t got any has he?*

*Not that I know of. Except what he collected last night but his lackeys still have that — it can’t go directly to him, it has to be laundered or he’ll have to take the fall. He’ll have to go on line to find out that his accounts are empty*

*Ah yes, the same way you emptied them. How many transactions did you make from his account last night?*

*Just one, to the Bank of Zambia. where it accumulated with the scammed money and was then dispersed to villages in the Congo and women shelters in all the major cities in USA and Europe. Only the Bank of Zambia isn’t suspicious of that many transactions….*

*Oh, I also paid his back taxes for the last ten years.* Molly was so close to giggling.

*I’m off for a shower, I’d like to go down to the dockyard later.* I giggled.

The next I heard was on the news that evening. About the waiter who had died of an overdose in the car park. Mike had been interviewed but released as he was the last person to see him before he collapsed. Police would also like to speak to the lady who was seen leaving with him.

I phoned the police — they must have known it was me, as they’d observed him going to my place. Presumably it was a test to see if I was in collusion.

“Good evening Miss Cartwright, please come this way.” He walked just off my forequarter leading me deeper into the police station.

“Could you go over your actions last night please?” I was asked to make my statement for the tape recorder (they won’t be able to play it back — it’s going to wipe itself.)

“Well, we left the Club last night, I’ve no idea what time and went back to my place and he stayed about  ½ an hour. Then left as he was too drunk to function and was embarrassed about it. I watched him from the apartment — it’s odd, as his car was not where he left it, I saw him use his phone and presently a green sports coupe picked him up. That’s the last I saw of him.”

“Where was the car when you left the club?”

“A little guy in a white jacket had gone to get it, I think he was a hotel employee — he looked like one.. he brought it round to the front for us.” I tried to be explicit and keep to the facts — I wanted no suspicion to rest on me.

“What happened when you got home?”

“We went in and — hey, hang on, are you getting jollies out of this?” I gave him the frown.

The inspector tried to be officious, “We’re just tying up loose ends miss”.

“The loose end surely finished when the little guy gave us the car at the front door, no?”

“No ma’am we’re not only enquiring about that, we’re also enquiring about the death of Mike Strong.”

The surprised look on my face was enough to tell the police that I wasn’t party to that info.

“When, how? What happened?”

“He was found shot this afternoon in the dockyard, he’d gone to identify his car. Whoever took it must’ve been waiting for him.
You wouldn’t know anything about a little missing money would you?
Money? No, … how much?” I wondered if his wallet got nicked as well as his worldly accumulated assets.

“Someone emptied his bank accounts last night, a lot of zeros” — he died penniless.

Not much to show for 245 years work I thought….

The police let me go after I showed them my bank account online statement; showing no transactions for the last week or so. Not any 950 million dollar ones anyway. I think it was nice that my current account was only showing a few hundred thousand. My big accounts were all offshore.

‘RIP, Mike you thug’, I thought as I slipped into the traffic, which always drove very sedately outside the police station.

*Molly, how did you shoot him?* I thought she must have beamed a bullet at him — clever.

*I didn’t, someone who wanted to be paid for his drugs did when he realised that our dear departed was without funds.*

*You’re enjoying this..* it was a statement.

*I never enjoy people dying- especially level 3 people, but if you abuse the talent, then you suffer the consequences.*

I was glad Molly was on my side … now.

*Molly, I need a better history, he was able to trace I didn’t exist before recently.”*

*I’m on it Helen.*

Three months and I still didn’t have a person who I wanted to share my life with.
Three months…. Why was I rushing? I didn’t need a consort for 50 years and even that wouldn’t really be a long time.

I really needed something to occupy my life — I buckled down to my learning and also joined a gym and some social networks that included people with clout.
Every so often I popped up for an overnight with Molly, it felt good to get away for the evening but I had to be careful my absence wasn’t noticed.

One of the social networks was a political party.
I knew that if I joined a political party as a candidate, I would be visible forever and not just at functions.. The paparazzi followed you everywhere and tried to hack your life. I wasn’t ready for some poor sap to find in fifty years after he’d spent his life following my career that I was still 24. But I could play marionettes couldn’t I?

I needed to create a Utopia that could house my children and my children’s children for a hundred generations. To help them bring all this good green Earth and its people to a new destiny.

Australia is a wonderful country with a resource level that far outweighs its population. Australia could be self sufficient and very comfortable for all it’s people.

The new Hellenic Republic. Yes, I liked that. A truly free society.

In University one finds a lot of idealists and youthful zealots. I needed to nurture a few of them into a neat political front and then supply them with the fundamentals of a new world.
I also needed — children.
“Molly, can I guarantee twins form my first babies?”

“Triplets if you like, but they’re awfully tiring to carry to term. You won’t get stretch marks though.” She added with a pseudo laugh.

“Can they be delivered by you Molly? If I come up to the site” I didn’t want Molly to beam them out of my womb from 350,00 kilometres away — that would be too weird.

“I would expect nothing less Helen, the medical care on your world is what I would call a trifle primitive.” I could sense the tongue in cheek quip, but I had already distanced myself from the rest of humanity in some ways.

I’d actually come to that a week or two ago when I’d cut myself chopping veggies. I’d taken a chunk off the side of my knuckle and it stung like crazy for a second.
I dug the chipped off flesh out of the Bok Choy and placed it back on the cut. I held it there for a few seconds then took a look. My finger was whole again, with a little blood round the edge. I thought it had just stuck there as sometimes happens, but when I carefully dabbed away the blood, there was no sign of the cut.

“Did you do that Molly”

“No, it was all your own work.” I felt the smile. “You’re learning.”

I was beginning to believe in myself on a whole new different level.

To Be Continued