Puppet

Puppet

  By

  Whatever

  Copyright 2012 by Whatever

  [email protected]

  Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

  Cover photo “Ex Machina” by Steve Jurvetson, https://www.flickr.com/photos/jurvetson

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners, including but not limited to Robert A. Heinlein. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

  * * *

  One summer night, a spaceship touched down in a field of sunflowers outside of an Iowa town called Albia, population 3,500. It lowered a gang plank and waited.

  The next day, some kids approached the thing and a few of them dared each other to go inside. Finally, one boy named Sam went into the ship.

  The inside was all white - so much so that it was difficult to figure out what was part of the room and what was not. To one side was a window into another area of the ship that had what appeared to be silvery blobs of metal in little alcoves.

  Sam walked over to the window and regarded the next room. As he did so, a lamp-like fixture focused on him and projected some sort of ray onto the boy. Sam froze. From behind him, an opening in the floor appeared and one of the shiny metallic blobs flowed out onto the floor. It flowed over to Sam and then up his leg.

  Sam's body tensed for a few seconds, then relaxed. The strange light shining on him from the lamp switched off. Sam turned about towards the entrance and smiled an evil little smile. He couldn't have appeared more sinister even if light were shining up his nose. For effect, however, some unseen lamp was shining light up his nose.

  Time to act sinister.

  Sam waited for a minute or so and then he ran, shouting, out of the ship to his friends.

  "There's this strange room that's like all white." Sam explained breathlessly. "And there's this window into another room with these puddles of metal. I was looking at them when they moved!"

  "What sort of metal?" said an older kid named Tommy doubtfully.

  "I dunno. It was all weird and shiny."

  "So you're saying it was mercury?"

  "I dunno, is that all shiny?"

  "Yes."

  “Then I guess it could be mercury.”

  "Well," said Tommy in the smug tones of one who doesn't know what's going on, "it couldn't have been mercury because that's really heavy."

  "So what was it?"

  "Not mercury."

  With the insight of someone who is practicing reverse psychology, Sam said "Let's head back home, this place gives me the creeps."

  "Never mercury."

  "And I want to tell my brother that I've been in a real live space ship!"

  That stopped them. The notion that only Sam had been brave enough to venture into the ship was too much to bear.

  Fearfully, several of the other boys crept up the gangplank. They also fell prey to the same trap.

  The other boys came running down exclaiming about what they saw.

  "Sam's right, it is mercury!"

  That did it. Determined to show he was right, Tommy marched into the entrance and went right up to the window.

  "There's no way that is merc-"

  The ray from the overhead lamp caught him in mid-proclamation and he was caught like the others.

  The boys came silently out of the ship. Each of them headed off towards home.

  The scene was repeated many times all over the world.

  * * *

  Mike was 24 and feeling worthless. He felt that way most days so this was nothing usual. He had been feeling 24 for much of the past year.

  It wasn't because of his job or his situation in life, he was doing well enough on all counts, or that he was 24 - that had to happen at some point if you lived long enough. Mike was feeling worthless because, well, that was how he felt most of the time.

  Against his better judgement, Mike was pulling into a Burger King. He berated himself for being weak and ordered a Whopper.

  "Do you want fries with that?" asked the person at the register.

  "Yeah sure." Mike mumbled.

  "Would you like to super-size those fries?"

  "What do I look like to you?" Mike asked. After a moment he added "Yeah, sure."

  Mike was eating his burger with a large drink (It was cheaper if you got the meal deal) when he felt the call of nature and headed for the restroom.

  While he was attending to matters, two people came out of the stall next to him, but what happened next was unusual even for a Burger King. One of the guys grabbed him and the other one stuffed a Puppeteer down the back of Mike's shirt.

  Of course Mike didn't know that it was an alien that looked like a blob of mercury, or that on contact with the back of a human being it could take control of the person; but he soon found out.

  Mike could not control his limbs. After a few halting steps, he nodded to the two other people in the room. They left, one after the other, while Mike took a few steps back and forth, as if practicing.

  After a while, Mike left the restroom and then the restaurant. The horrible thing was that he had left some perfectly good fries at his table. When he stepped out of the building he stopped and stared at the sky.

  It...was so...beautiful. It was like he had never really looked at it before, the way the blue of the sky contrasted with the white of the clouds, and the brilliant sun shining through it all.

  Mike would have stood there all day, but something made him head out into the parking lot for his car. Nevertheless, Mike was amazed by how incredible everything looked: the lot behind the Burger King, the blades of grass swaying in the breeze, the house behind the restaurant, everything.

  Mike tried to regain control, but it was no good. He got in his car and started it up. In one of his "daring" moods, he had decided to buy a car with manual transmission. Whatever was controlling him popped the clutch.

  Mike startled and felt a quick rush of adrenaline. For a few moments, he seemed to have control over himself, but the feeling quickly vanished.

  There is no hope slave! I am in control of you now!

  Mike looked around but did not see anyone who might have been talking to him.

  I am here, there is no escape!

  "Who the hell is that?" Mike said out loud.

  It is I, your new master!

  "More like a new sign that I've gone crazy."

  You had some other master?

  "No...hey..."

  Can you hear me? Mike tried.

  You will address me as 'Master'. The voice replied.

  So why did you start talking to me all of a sudden?

  I just told you to call me...don't tell me you didn't notice those two colleagues in the dining establishment?

  Burger King.

  Whatever.

  Mike recalled that one of the guys who had jumped him had stuffed something down his back. Mike tried to reach around to check but found that he could not.

  Ha! The voice laughed.

  You're doing that?

  Your new master is doing that!

  You sound like a dominatrix.

  A what?

  Mike visualized a woman in a black leather corset.

  Not that sort of master, this kind:

  Mike received a mental image of a blob of mercury, about 6 inches in diameter.

  That's on my back?

  The Puppeteer sounded put out.

  Ye
ah...but you will soon come to call me Master!

  You keep saying that.

  And I have complete control over you, watch!

  Unaccountably, Mike started up his car again, then popped the clutch...again.

  Very impressive.

  Shut up.

  On the third try, Mike managed to start the car and avoid stalling. With the wheels squealing, the car took off out of the parking lot. They barely missed another car who honked at them.

  Hey, watch where you're going. Or rather, watch out where you're making me go.

  Silence!

  Are you making everything seem so weird?

  Umm...yes. Now shut up.

  Mike concentrated on driving. He found it a strange experience. For example, the Puppeteer made him drive faster than he was accustomed to.

  We're going too fast: do you want to get pulled over?

  No one would dare!

  Contrary to the alien's proclamation, Mike noticed some flashing blue and red lights in his rear view mirror.

  A few minutes later...

  "And the speed limit on this road is 40mph, not 60!"

  "Yes officer, thank you, officer."

  Mike's Puppeteer seemed to be sulking.

  If it weren't that I'm trying to puzzle out how to control you, that guy would be in serious trouble.

  Mike, on the other hand was feeling rather strange. He knew he should be annoyed by the whole episode with the cop, but instead he felt...calm. Rather than cursing the policeman under his breath he found himself thankful that someone was trying to keep the roads safe.

  "So don't do it again." The cop said, though for whatever reason his heart didn't seem to be in it.

  "I understand officer." Mike practically beamed at him.

  "Hmph." and handed Mike the ticket.

  The officer drove off. Mike ripped up the ticket.

  Hey! What are you doing?

  I'll show him. I have friends in high places!

  Yeah, you really have shown your powers so far.

  Silence!

  I'm not actually speaking.

  Whatever.

  * * *

  Over the next few days, the Puppeteer had Mike perform odd and nefarious tasks that were all part of the alien’s "master plan" to "control the Earth for the People!" The most interesting of these was to create another Puppeteer.

  Mike had been at home surfing the web.

  Shouldn't I be at work? I'm going to get fired.

  Quiet! I must reconnoiter this primitive society.

  How is browsing animal porn helping you?

  I said be quiet!

  Then the phone rang. Mike answered.

  "All hail the Masters!"

  "Don't answer your phone that way, idiot!"

  Mike's Puppeteer seemed crestfallen.

  "Sorry."

  "We need another controller and...well...we couldn't find anyone else."

  "Fine, just come by and I'll set you up."

  "Right, be there in 5."

  "All hail..."

  "Shut up."

  A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. Mike answered it to find a rather attractive young lady there.

  "Hi"

  She pushed past Mike into his apartment.

  "I'm Mike by the way." Then his Puppeteer cut in "All hail..."

  "Shut up!"

  Sullenly. "Oh, right."

  The two of them regarded one another. Then Mike blurted out.

  "Hey, have you tried sex with these guys, it's supposed to be very nice?"

  The woman looked at Mike like he was insane.

  "Take off your shirt and get started."

  Mike smiled, walking towards her and unbuttoning his shirt.

  "Get started creating another of the people." She said through gritted teeth.

  "Oh" Mike looked sheepish. “Who is the target?”

  “That would be…it would just be simpler to tell you directly.”

  With a look of distaste, the woman took off her blouse and sat on the floor, her back facing Mike. Mike, in turn, pulled off his shirt and sat back to back to her. There was a moment of disorientation, then contact.

  The target is the chief of police. We have an opportunity to recruit him but we must act quickly. The woman’s Puppeteer informed Mike and his alien. A description flowed through the link between them much more rapidly than could have been achieved via conversation.

  Ummm…does this guy have a wife? Mike’s Puppeteer queried.

  Details about the chief’s spouse flowed quickly through the connection.

  Oh my God she’s ugly!

  Shut up! Came the response from the woman’s Puppeteer. More details about the man’s situation flowed through the link. There, you have all the details you need, now split!

  The two of them broke the link that touching their Puppeteers had formed. The woman got up and put on her blouse.

  Mike pulled out a chair to the center of the room and sat down astride it, with his back facing outwards, and concentrated. For a split second, he felt a peculiar sensation of being in two places at once, then he felt distinctly tired.

  "What's your name, by the way?" Asked Mike.

  "Names don't matter." The woman said.

  "Well, we have to avoid blowing cover..."

  "Fine. Call me Alice."

  Alice knelt behind Mike and touched his back. He felt her touching him, then she got up and headed for the door.

  "Hey!" Mike said, feeling dizzy.

  "What?!"

  "Can I have your phone number?"

  The door slammed.

  That was smooth.

  Shut up.

  * * *

  At first, the Puppeteer merely commanded and expected to be obeyed. At first, Mike had no choice. But over time, he managed to gain a measure of control.

  At first, it was small things to simply make himself more useful; or rather, to avoid becoming less useful to the alien. He had gone for a week without taking a shower and was beginning to reek.

  Ugh...I'm really beginning to stink! Mike remarked.

  The Puppeteer did not respond.

  Hellloooo! Anybody home?

  I'm not going to talk to you unless you call me 'Master'. The Puppeteer said in the mental equivalent of a surly tone.

  If I call you 'Master' can we have a bath?

  The alien seemed to think about this.

  If we don't clean up, it will become harder to blend in with other people... Mike added.

  Oh, alright...at least if you call me…

  Master.

  The Puppeteer's mental voice dripped with satisfaction.

  Lord and Master! One of the true race! I shall control all that...

  Don't get carried away.

  Mike washed up, though the Puppeteer stayed attached throughout the process.

  What is that horrible sound?! Asked the alien.

  I'm singing.

  Mike abruptly stopped singing.

  Hey!

  Don't ever do that again!

  Mean.

  After this first concession, the process of give and take became easier. Mike convinced it to allow him to eat better than the candy bars he had been consuming. He successfully got the other to allow him to brush his teeth.

  It was insistent about no singing during baths though.

  The real change came when the two of them got into a car crash.

  They had been driving along 15mph over the speed limit. As usual, the other ignored his suggestions to slow down, displaying an impatience with the rate traffic was moving.

  Dammit! When I am the overlord of the world there shall be no traffic jams!

  You're not going to get the chance if you turn us into street-pizza because you're going too fast.

  Nonsense, I have lightning reactions!

  Without warning, the car ahead of them slammed on the breaks and hit the car in front of it.

  White hot fear
gripped Mike as he, in turn, slammed on the breaks; but they were going too fast and following too close. In a split second they had hit the car in front of them. Mike gazed dumbly at the air bag that had come out of the steering wheel and then deflated all in a flash. He noted that his left arm was bleeding, though there was no pain.

  After a time, Mike tried to pull the car out of the way, then noticed that the hood was bunched up so that he could not see the road. He got out of the car.

  When he stood up, he found that his right leg would not bear his weight. Still no pain.

  Hey, are you OK?

  You are supposed to call me 'master'.

  That was a masterful job of getting us into an accident.

  Shut up. Also, get us out of here.

  If we leave the scene of an accident, it will draw attention - the police will come after us. It is better to stay.

  As the other mulled this over, Mike spoke to the other driver.

  As they waited there, a throbbing sensation begin in his arm and leg. It seemed like every breath, every heartbeat made the throbbing worse. Looking at his arm and then his leg, Mike realized that he was injured.

  Without quite realizing how, Mike found himself sitting on the ground. The other driver looked concerned. There was something else that Mike felt that was itself stranger than the events of the day.

  The Puppeteer seemed to be fading.

  With every fresh wave of pain, now coming in time with the throbbing of his wounds, he felt the other withdraw.

  What's wrong?

  The pain!

  Finally the ambulance arrived. The EMTs were busy with the other victims but when they got to Mike, the first thing he noticed about them was the smell.

  "Jeez" he said weakly. "You smell like you haven't taken a bath in a week!"

  "Just stay calm sir." said an expressionless individual. As he took Mike's pulse.

  Mike stared at him. It looked like he hadn't shaved this morning.

  "You too?"

  The EMT glance at him sharply.

  "The smell is a dead giveaway. He could use a shave too."

  The EMT glanced around quickly.

  "Check my other, he may be hurt."

  "What?" said the EMT.

  "My Puppeteer - make sure he's OK. I can't talk to him through the pain."

  The EMT stared at him for a few seconds, then put his hand under Mike. He continued staring Mike in the eyes for a little while, then brought his hand back.

  "Well?"

  The EMT reached back into a case he had brought with him and took out a syringe. Without saying anything, he injected Mike with something.

  "Hey, what was that?" Mike said; but the EMT did not reply. He just kept staring into Mike's eyes. From somewhere overhead Mike heard another voice:

  "Is he OK?"

  The EMT glanced up at the speaker and his expression changed to one of concern.

  "He's in a great deal of pain. We've got to get him to a hospital quickly."