The Sex Sphere (23 page)

“Like to get my nose in there,” commented W.W. “Look how tight those pants are on her. Mother-far-fucking-out!”

The waitress brought us our beers balanced between her breasts. Wheelie Willie sniffed hungrily at her bottom as I took the beers. “
Zum wohl des Herren
,” she said, floating off with a slight waggle. “To the health of the gentlemen.”

I took a long pull of the thick, heady brew, and then fed Wheelie Willie’s glass to him. Some boys came in, students, and sat down with the sex spheres we’d been eyeing. One of the girls, the one who’d looked at me, excused herself and went downstairs.

The beer went down well on my empty stomach. I decided to order another round. But first I had to piss.

“Hey, Willie. Order a new round if the waitress comes by. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“And after that we score dope, hey, Alwin?”

Downstairs was a unisex john, not terribly unusual for Germany. I pushed in, half-hoping to surprise a sphere in action. My luck held. The cute young orb from upstairs was perched nude on the toilet.

I unzipped my fly and leaned over the sphere’s upturned mouth. She wriggled with mock embarrassment...and got to work.

Man! This was really living!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Garden of Earthly Delights

Sybil made it out of Heidelberg before the sex spheres attacked. She’d spent the night packing, and when the sun rose she and the kids were on the autobahn to Frankfurt. Smooth move.

Nearing the Frankfurt International Airport, Sybil began to wonder at the amount of traffic. She flicked on the car radio, which was set to the US Army station.

“…no panic at this time, with day-to-day life proceeding normally. Some authorities have challenged the story as a hoax, but telescopic observations have now confirmed it. A substantial proportion of the Heidelberg population has been transformed into what may be an alien life form. Evacuation of the surrounding areas is proceeding. All units are on Red Alert. Repeat, all units are on Red Alert. Report immediately to your superior officer.”

The bulletin ended and was replaced by aimless easy-listening.

Sybil dialed another station and heard a more detailed report in German. Something had turned most of the women in Heidelberg into alien creatures, spherical in form. Yet the Heidelberg men were doing nothing. Emergency troops had been sent in, but instead of fighting they’d started a street-party.

It figured. That’s all men really wanted anyway: sex spheres. Eyes slitted with fury, Sybil skidded onto the exit ramp for the airport. Thank God she and the kids had gotten out in time.

She abandoned the car in the airport’s three-minute loading zone and led the children into the excited crowd. First to get money. Looking at a directory, she located a branch of the Deutsche Bank. Upstairs. Each of the children had a heavy suitcase to lug, and people kept jostling them. Briefly, Sybil took time to imagine cutting Alwin’s throat. No…that would be too fast, too easy on him. Better to break his legs and let him be eaten by hungry rats. Or stick knitting-needles in him, carefully avoiding vital spots as long as possible…long, sharp, red-hot needles.

“There’s the bank, Mommy. It’s closed.”

Of course. The men had it closed so no women could escape. Keeping their shit-cunt-money safe in their toilet-marriage-bank. Sybil slammed her suitcase into the thick glass doors. The doors didn’t budge, but the suitcase burst open. If only she had a gun!

The PA system was making an announcement. First in German, then French, then English: “All outgoing flights are fully booked. If you have no ticket, please leave the airport. Repeat, all outgoing flights are fully booked for the next seventy-two hours.”

The crowd around them surged this way and that. There were many more women than men here; tough, pushy German women. What to do?

“If we can’t get a plane today, then let’s go visit Gran’ma,” suggested Sorrel. “Daddy can meet us there.”

“Your
Daddy
is perfectly happy in Heidelberg. And if I ever see him again, I’ll…” A sudden inspiration struck Sybil. There was a way. There was still a way. She gathered up her possessions and reclosed her suitcase. Her father would have weapons.

“I think you’re right, Sorrel. We’ll go stay with Grandma and Grandpa.”

It took hours to get downtown, but finally they made it. Lotte and Cortland Burton lived on a walled estate, fully equipped with the latest antiterrorism devices. In America, Cortland had just been a good engineer; in Germany he was a military industrialist. His company produced a sort of particle-beam ray-gun which was supposed to provide Germany with a defense against missiles.

Cortland and Lotte were ecstatic to see their daughter and grandchildren safe. The maid fixed them a big dinner of Wienerschnitzel, the children’s favorite food. Cortland and Lotte sat at either end of the long table, with Sybil and Sorrel at Cortland’s end, Ida and Tom at Lotte’s. Lotte was cutting up Ida’s meat.

“But how do you
know
Alwin is safe?” she asked, fixing Sybil with a worried look. “Won’t he starve in that jail?”

“Alwin is safe because he is a
man
,” answered Cortland. “This whole invasion is in some sense a female problem. Perhaps it’s related to sexual hysteria.”

“Aliens are turning women into grotesque spheres, and that’s
our
fault?” snapped Sybil. “Really, Father, you go too far. Alwin is safe because this invasion is
his doing
. It’s the final acting-out of heartless male chauvinism.
You
should go to Heidelberg. You’d love it there with the sex spheres.”

Cortland refrained from answering, but Lotte sprang to his defense. “How can you speak to your father that way, Sybil? And in front of the children.”

“What if the sex spheres come here?” asked Tom. “Will they eat Mommy?”

“Don’t worry,” said Cortland. “They’re just in Heidelberg. And the army has them surrounded.”

“Ha!” spat Sybil. “What good is an army against the sex spheres? Men lay down their arms and women get eaten. What weapons could stop the spheres anyway?” This wasn’t a rhetorical question. She had a feeling Cortland would know the answer, if anyone did.

Cortland raised his eyebrows. “Sorrel, my sweetest grandchild, would you please close the kitchen door?”

Sorrel obliged, and Cortland continued, his voice lowered. “As you know, Sybil, my engineering firm develops new weapons. Today I was telephoned by Colonel Noschwet in Mannheim. Apparently the antimissile particle-beam laser which we have developed is capable of causing these…sex spheres to dematerialize. Several field tests have been successfully conducted. So I would not be unduly concerned. Whatever its cause, the invasion can indeed be contained.”

“You only say
contained
. Why can’t they take the lasers into Heidelberg and exterminate the sex spheres?”

“This will be attempted,” Cortland sighed. “But, as you yourself have pointed out, the men who go to Heidelberg are won over and the women are eaten. In no case is a soldier likely to return, no matter how well-armed he or she may be. And we have only one portable PB laser.”

“Ice crweam, please!” shouted Ida gaily. Ellie, the maid, came bustling back in.

“Wait,” said Lotte. “Ida, you haven’t eaten the nice spaghetti that Ellie made for you.”

“I hate buscadey!”

Tom, not liking to see his little sister act spoiled and get attention, slid down in his chair and kicked her under the table. Ida’s face did squeezed grapefruit. Sorrel punished Tom with a sharp poke under the ribs. Doubling up from pain and excitement, Tom knocked his water glass over. It hit and broke Sorrel’s Meissen china plate, then rolled onto the floor and smashed. Ida, thinking a food fight had broken out, grabbed a leftover schnitzel and threw it at Sorrel for being bossy. It missed her and hit Cortland on the shoulder of his Lanvin suit. “Pig!” screamed Sorrel as loud as she could. Seeing the expensive plate broken, Tom crawled under the table and began roaring in terror.

Cortland looked accusingly at Lotte. Lotte passed the look to Sybil. “Really, Sybil, Do all American children behave this way?”

“It’s Alwin’s fault. He acts like a child himself.”

Ellie was already clearing up the mess. Sybil pulled Tom out from under the table. “There’ll be no dessert for you children. Go upstairs and put your pyjamas on.”

“Can’t we watch TV?” wailed Sorrel.

“Of course you can,” put in Cortland. “And be sure to give me a good-night kiss me when you’re all clean.”

“OK, Gran’pa.”

The three little pigs surged upstairs. Sybil and her parents moved into the enormous living room, and Cortland served out a round of cognac.

“What do you know about these alien spheres?” asked Cortland. “And what exactly is their connection with Alwin?”

“I didn’t tell you before, because it sounded so crazy. The original sphere was involved in the bombing in Rome. She calls herself
Babs
. I think all these spheres in Heidelberg are copies of Babs.”

“What a vulgar name,” put in Lotte. “Where does Babs come from? Underground? The planet Venus?”

“Not even from our space. From another dimension.”

“Just like in your husband’s book,” said Cortland. “
Geometry and Reality
.” He was referring to a little text on higher dimensions which Alwin had written. Thanks to this one publication, he’d been able to get his grant in Heidelberg.

“Yes,” said Sybil. “But the main thing about Babs is her sexuality. She’s all breasts and buttocks and lips and…you know.”

“That sounds like Cortland’s secretary,” commented Lotte.

“This is no laughing matter,” said Cortland sternly. “Apparently these sex spheres have destroyed and replaced all the women in Heidelberg. But why?”

Sybil shuddered, realizing how narrow her escape had been. “Alwin said something about destroying reality. The spheres connect to some higher realm that Alwin thinks is better. He wants the spheres to take us all up there. It’s fine for the men. They just…you know. But Babs has nothing to offer most women. I saw her myself—I threw her out of the apartment! She must have decided then that it was all or nothing. I think she’s killing anyone who won’t go along…which is almost all the women.”

There was a long, thoughtful silence. Finally Cortland spoke up.

“It must be then—if I can believe all this—that Alwin is in some way enabling the sex spheres to enter our space. For if he were not in some way instrumental, then the spheres could simply be appearing all over Earth at once. Yet we find them only in his vicinity, in Heidelberg.”

“I have to kill him,” said Sybil flatly. At first she thought she was only saying this for effect, but as the words hung there, she realized they were true. Killing Alwin was the only way to save her children—and the rest of the world. Oh, Alwin—how had it come to this?

“What are you saying?” burst out Lotte. “Leave the killing for the soldiers, darling. Leave it for the men!”

Cortland lit a cigar with slow, deliberate motions. Blue smoke obscured his features. Sybil’s mind was racing. Kill Alwin, yes, that was the only answer, and put your damned emotions away. Nobody could approach Alwin better than her. But what if the sex spheres got to her first? Her father had mentioned a weapon….

“I do have that one portable version of the particle-beam laser,” said Cortland, fully in synch with his daughter’s thoughts. “It’s like a bazooka wired to a backpack. An infiltrator would need this, and some conventional weapon as well. The Uzi machine gun is an excellent choice. Also I would recommend our night-glasses.”

“So you’ll help me?” said Sybil, feeling a sense of doom.

“Let me make some phone calls,” said Cortland, rising to his feet. “You are prepared to go in thirty minutes, Sybil?”

This was all happening so rapidly! Was Courtland that eager to have his son-in-law killed? Sybil was, after all, his only child, his only daughter—maybe Cortland secretly hated Alwin for taking her away. But look how Alwin was behaving! Who
wouldn’t
hate him!

“It’s not about Alwin at all,” said Courtland, once again divining Sybil’s thoughts. “It’s about saving the world. We have to think of it like that.”

Sybil went upstairs to bathe and put on fighting clothes. Black jeans and a black turtleneck. Mountain boots. She tied her hair back in a bun. She took off her earrings and her bracelets. All from Alwin. Her wedding ring…she put her wedding ring in the dresser drawer. The kids didn’t bother her, they were busy watching a Charlie Chaplin movie,
Modern Times
.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Sybil burnt a bit of cork and blackened her face. She drank two cups of coffee. High above the house a racketing noise drew closer. Cortland switched on the outside floodlights, and the helicopter landed.

The noise broke the children’s concentration. Squealing with excitement, they tumbled down the stairs.

“Why’s Mommy all black?”

“Where’s Gran’pa’s helicopter taking her?”

“Is Gran’pa going too?”

“Who’s going to take care of us?”

“Your mother and I are going to a costume party,” Cortland told the children. “Grandma will take care of you.”

“Cortland,” said Lotte in a strained voice. “Are you sure this is for the best?”

His answer was lost in the syncopated beat of the chopper blades. Sybil kissed the children and followed her father through the deaf wash of damp air. The helicopter rose up over Frankfurt, then followed the autobahn south.

“We’ll go past Heidelberg,” said Cortland, “then cut over to the Neckar and set you down there. You can come unobtrusively into town on this raft.” He gestured at a bundle of black rubber. “But be sure to stop before the locks!”

“I’ll get off by the castle,” said Sybil. “Now show me how to use the particle-beam and the machine gun.”

Half an hour later they were passing Heidelberg. There is a mountain—Konigstuhl—between Heidelberg and the autobahn, so there was no way to really see what was up. A pass directly over the city would have been too risky. The helicopter went on past Konigstuhl, then turned left to land by the Neckar near the village of Neckargemund, which lies ten kilometers upstream from Heidelberg.