Stealing his thoughts, Oriel nudged van Els and murmured sotto voce,
"Tell me: have you ever seen breasts like mine? Ever?"

van Els' mouth was bone dry. "No," he croaked.

"Then if you never saw me naked, your imagination is crying out…
calling to a coincident reality, isn't it?" she purred.

 

---

Groans From Timbuctoo
by Kaleigh Way
 
7. Too Many Marilyns

(part three of three)

 

 

There was good news, bad news, and news that was a bit of both.

The bad news was that the bared teeth and the bloodthirsty, murderous look on Marilyn Monroe's face was something that Isaac van Els would never forget for the rest of his life. He would have nightmares about it. He was never able to look at a picture of Marilyn without a cold shiver running up his spine.

The good news was that those nightmares would be few and very far between, and his dread was fixed to the image of Marilyn Monroe, and not to the lovely French doctor, Oriel Paim.

In news that was more strongly mixed, the fear evoked by Marilyn's nightmarish face was enough to make Isaac van Els' heart miss a beat, and that jolt caused the alien device to glow, flash, and change Dr. Paim back to her original form.

Also — and purely good news this time — Sammy and Dr. Kang, who stood farther off, were once again unaffected by the strange machine's energy pulse.

As soon as her change occurred, Dr. Paim scooted behind the SUV to change her clothes. The medical team arrived, but she waved them off, saying, "Medicine can wait." Those three words were enough to convey the fact that the doctor had recovered her strong French accent. Then Dr. Paim decided that not only medicine could wait, but Sammy, Dr. Kang, and Dr. van Els could wait as well, as the newly restored woman put on her makeup and brushed her hair for a full ten minutes. All told, it was 35 minutes before Oriel Paim decided that she was ready.

Her mood had undergone a radical change. When she stepped out from behind the vehicle, dressed in a pair of tan, skin-tight pants, clunky ankle boots, and a soft knitted top that glorified the symmetry of her breasts, her manner was downright kittenish.

Dr. Kang, anxious to leave, sat behind the wheel. Sammy offered the front passenger seat to Dr. Paim, but to Sammy's surprise, Oriel insisted on sitting in the back seat with Isaac.

She was even more surprised by what Dr. Paim wanted to know.

"You are a naughty boy," she said to Isaac in a tone of playful, teasing accusation. Sammy's jaw dropped. She turned to see Oriel's provocative smile. "When did you see me naked? When? Where did you spy on me? And for how long?"

van Els looked at her in alarm. "I never! No, I certainly… I wouldn't and didn't! That's just the machine— the alien— that's how it operates!"

Oriel smiled in a knowing way. "Oh, yes, I'm SO sure." She laughed a throaty, earthy laugh. "But my breasts, my — how do you say? My bout de sein — my nipples… they are rather… unusual, isn't it?"

van Els rubbed his chin nervously. Yes, her nipples were rather unusual. He could see them in his mind's eye: two small chocolate-colored dots on the miniature version of Oriel. He'd never seen areolas so dark or so small.

Stealing his thoughts, Oriel nudged van Els and murmured sotto voce, "Tell me: have you ever seen breasts like mine? Ever?"

van Els' mouth was bone dry. "No," he croaked.

"Then if you never saw me naked, your imagination is crying out… calling to a coincident reality, isn't it?" she purred.

Dr. Kang, in spite of herself, couldn't help but intervene. "That's a good question, Isaac. How did you know what her nipples look like?"

Oriel laughed, and her eyebrows danced.

"It's the machine," he protested. "It's just how it works."

Oriel scoffed. "Oh yes. Let us call that the official position." She laughed. "Obviously the device follows your inclinations. You see me dancing naked in your brain, in your mind. The machine— what does it do? It simply reflects your desire. It brings it to life. The proof is that your image of Marilyn Monroe is idealized: You did not see her as she was, but as you wished her to be. Everyone knows that Marilyn Monroe was a little fat girl. She was chubby. And yet you rendered her petite."

"No!" Sammy protested.

"Oh, but yes," Oriel returned. "Your Marilyn wore a size twelve American. If she were alive today, no one would be taking her picture or having her sing Happy Birthday, Mr. President." (Or as Oriel rendered it, appy beart day mister prezidann.)
 

---

 

By the time they'd returned to Timbuctoo, Sammy had quietly searched the net through her smartphone, and thoroughly debunked Oriel's claims about Miss Munroe. But she kept the facts to herself until she was alone with Drs. Kang and van Els.

"I thought so," Dr. Kang commented. "And I'm glad. It would have ruined my theory."

"What theory is that?"

"It has two parts," Dr. Kang replied. "I believe that the device used as much of your memory as possible when it rendered the image of Marilyn. We'll compare the measurements of any one of our Marilyns with the measurements of the historical Marilyn, and I'll bet you anything they're exactly the same. If you just think about what it took for the device to get her height correct, it's amazing."

"Okay," van Els agreed. "I don't see why that's important, but I'll grant you that. What's the other part?"

"It's about Oriel's nipples, of course. You swear you've never seen them?"

Isaac blushed. "No, never!"

"It's important, Isaac. It really is."

"No, honestly, I swear. I've never seen that woman before today."

"That means that the device remembered her. You couldn't have; but the device did. It didn't 'reflect your desire' as Oriel put it. I assume you tried to change the figures that you saw?"

van Els blushed more deeply. "Yes, but I couldn't."

"You couldn't make the breasts bigger or the butts smaller or the hair longer, right?"

"No," van Els admitted, shamefaced.

Dr. Kang nodded. "It makes sense. It's completely bizarre, crazy, and way out there, but it makes perfect sense. The device has some sort of memory bank.

"And Isaac," she added, "you really need to go to the infirmary and get a checkup. You look like hell."

"I'll be all right," he replied. "I feel like I've had a heart attack and been run over by a busload of elephants, but I can rest when this is over."

"No," Kang insisted. "Infirmary. Now."
 

---

 

While Sammy went to round up the Marilyns, Dr. Kang reported to Trubinger. "Chief" O'Shaunessey, the Head of Security, joined the meeting.

"I'm pretty sure Isaac wasn't using the device in the way it was designed," Kang said.

"Yeah," Trubinger agreed. "I don't see the aliens as porn-lovers. For the moment, though, that's neither here nor there. Tell me how it went with Dr. Paim."

"Isaac was able to change her back, and she seems in quite happy about it. But something interesting came up… it turns out that Oriel has… a… well, let's say that she has some distinctive—" she paused, reddening.

After a moment's consideration she went on, "Oriel has some anatomical… er…"

"Oh for God's sake, spit it out," Trubinger said.

Kang blushed more deeply and replied, "Oriel has quite distinctive breasts. You'd never guess, and you'd never imagine… you'd only know if you saw her naked."

Both the men straightened up a bit in their chairs. Before they could ask the questions that were written on their faces, Kang pushed on.

"Anyway, the point is that Isaac has never seen her naked, so he couldn't know. That means that the machine remembered her. I'm guessing that it's got some sort of memory in there, and that I can use that memory bank to change the Marilyns back.

"Remember," she added, "that I have more experience with neural interfaces that Isaac, and I'm betting it will be easy and quick."

"Good," Trubinger grunted. "Let's get the thirteen saddled up. You and Sammy can take them back to Beale and fix 'em."

"Thirteen?" Kang repeated. "So you identified—"

"Yes," O'Shaunessey interrupted. "I put the two unidentified Marilyns in separate rooms. We managed to figure out that one of our lab techs was missing, so I walked into the first room, slapped his file on the table and said, I know who you are."

"And?"

"The guy burst into tears, said he didn't want to change back. So that was our lab tech."

"And the other guy?"

"He looked relieved. He would have been happy to turn into the lab tech. It would be a perfect cover. And he knew the lab tech wanted to be Marilyn, and he wouldn't complain. So... he's the intruder. He's the spy. He's the guy who doesn't fit in."

"Okay," Dr. Kang said slowly, processing it. "Well, by process of elimination, I should be able to change him back, too. He'll be in the data bank, if I'm right."

"Naw," O'Shaunessey replied. "Take a picture of it, close up. Get the full face, profile… look for identifying marks. It'll be nice to know who he is, but as far as I'm concerned, he's Marilyn Monroe. He walked into trouble, and he got it."
 

---

 

Dr. Kang paused at the door. "Oh, I nearly forgot: I'm pretty sure I know what the device is made for."
 

---

 

While Dr. Kang and Sammy changed the thirteen Marilyns back to their original selves, Trubinger had an inspiration. He went down to van Els' old group, the group researching the big transformation device.

"This thing has a record of how it's been used, isn't that right? I wanted to check into something van Els told me a while ago. Basically, I'm just looking for some dates."

Once he got the information he was looking for, he went to the infirmary to visit Dr. van Els.

"You look like hell, Isaac."

"Thanks. I feel like crap."

"You look like crap."

"You already said that."

"It bears repeating," Trubinger laughed.

"You're all happy and smiling," van Els observed. "What's that about?"

"Well!" Trubinger replied. "As usual around here, every screw-up carries us forward! It turns out that your making too many Marilyns has had quite a rich side effect that ought to make things easier around here, including for you!"

"Really?" van Els asked, full of curiosity. "And here I thought you had come down here to fire me! So what's the 'rich side effect'?"

Trubinger grinned. "Let me keep that to myself. For once *I* want to be the clever one who snatches the chestnuts from the fire.

"And no, I'm not going to fire you. But I do want you to take a vacation. That's an order, not an option. I want you gone before the day is out. My brother has a house in Hawaii, lovely place, near the beach, and you can use it. Two weeks minimum. Three weeks recommended. Four weeks max. That ought to be enough."

"Sounds great."

"—AND someone has volunteered to go along and make sure you relax, recuperate, and get your mojo back."

"Oh, no!" van Els groaned. "Who?"

"Oriel Paim," Trubinger said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Really?" van Els asked in awe.

"Really and truly," Trubinger replied. "Miracles do happen."
 

---

 

The reason Trubinger wanted van Els gone was that his nemesis, the dreaded Congressman from Massachusetts was coming. Somehow ("There's no 'somehow' about it," O'Shaunessey commented. "We've got a leak.") — somehow the Congressman had heard, in great detail, about the multiple Marilyns, and his message was, "I'm coming, and I'm bringing a great big hammer, and the name of that hammer is Congressional Oversight. It's time to bring you guys to heel."

Trubinger didn't tell van Els any of that. Instead he said, "Oh, Isaac, before you go: Are there any little tests that you wish you could make with the big transformation machine?"

Isaac was surprised by the question. "Yeah, sure. If I had a test subject and if I had your approval, then, yeah. There are a few little things I'd want to try, but…"

"How about today?" Trubinger countered.

van Els shrugged. "Sure. But who's the subject?"

"Me," Trubinger replied, grinning.
 

---

 

The next day, just before lunch, the Congressman and his staff appeared. ("Looks like an invasion force," O'Shaunessey commented.) The staff was put in a big meeting room with no phones, no internet hookups, and not enough electrical sockets. They were, however, served a huge buffet lunch with lots of desserts.

In the meantime, the Congressman was hustled off to Trubinger's office. He expected to be alone with the head of the Timbuctoo Project. After all, who would want witnesses when he was getting chewed out? The Congressman had noticed, on the other hand, that all the nearby offices were empty.

However, to the Congressman's surprise, a third person was sitting in Trubinger's office. Trubinger introduced her.

"Congressman, I'm sure you've heard of Dr. Kang. She's one of the remarkable scientists we're lucky to have working here. That funny disk in front of her is a bit of alien technology that we wanted to demonstrate for you."

The Congressman eyed the device warily. "This is exactly the sort of hot-dogging I've been afraid of," he declared. "I can't believe you're pulling a dangerous stunt like this, after all I've said! You people play with these things without any safety protocols whatsoever! This is alien technology. It's not a pile of toys!"

"We're aware of that," Trubinger replied in a soothing tone. "But this device is quite interesting. Look here," and he pointed to the tiny platform. Dr. Kang produced the image of the spy, he way he looked before becoming one of the Marilyns.

The Congressman's face registered disgust. "I'm not interested in looking at naked men."

"Well, look at these, then," Trubinger countered, spreading on his desk the photographs that Dr. Kang had taken of the image's face.

The Congressman huffed impatiently as his eyes darted randomly over the photos. "I'm not here for twenty questions," he said. "I'm here to bring the hammer down! You know this."

Yes, I know that, Trubinger thought as he watched the Congressman's face. And I also know that you'd make a terrible poker player.

The Congressman shoved the photos away and said, "I don't know this person. Who is he supposed to be?"

Trubinger smiled and nodded to Dr. Kang. Kang nodded in reply and mentally issued a command. To the Congressman's great alarm, the edges of the alien device glowed, then flashed. A pulse of energy shot through the three people in the room and dissipated in the empty offices around them.

"Thank you, Dr. Kang," Trubinger said, in a quiet voice. "That will be all."

Dr. Kang, with eyes lowered, took off the halo, gathered up the alien device, and quietly left the office.

The Congressman, after he'd recovered from his surprise, managed to bluster, "What was THAT all about? What was the meaning of that… that… reckless demonstration? Were you trying to put me in danger? Rest assured that this foolishness will go into my report!"

"I don't think it will," Trubinger replied. "The point of that demonstration was to change exactly nothing. If it had changed anything, I'd be mighty embarrassed right now. But — just as I expected — nothing happened. You, me, Dr. Kang — we're all the same as we were five minutes ago. Nothing's different; nothing's changed. You see, Dr. Kang has a theory that that little device is a human detector. That if the aliens found a crowd of human-looking people, this device would convert all the humans, so they could be separated out. You see, the aliens wouldn't change."

Although the office was cool, the Congressman broke out in a sweat.

"I'm not so sure about Dr. Kang's theory," Trubinger went on. "But I know why Dr. Kang and I didn't change: we've both been through the big transformation device."

Trubinger smiled. "Maybe Dr. Kang is right: maybe it is a human detector, but for once — and maybe just this once — we've used it to detect an alien. Isn't that right, Congressman?"

© 2013 by Kaleigh Way