Dick Longg: Sexual Saviour of the Universe

‘Do you think hovercars are bugged?’

‘I’m sure some are’, replied Alice. ‘Probably at random but we can’t afford to take any chances’.

‘But if you’re under any sort of suspicion couldn’t the Party just tail you?’

‘Tail me?’

‘You know, follow you from a distance’, Dick explained.

‘They could do that, but in addition to the scrambler, I also have this device’.

With that, Alice reached into her handbag and showed Dick an ornate hairbrush.

‘Very nice. Is that for making sure your hair looks good just before they stop you? What do you do with the the one phone call you’re allowed when arrested? Ring the salon to get some highlights?’

Dick’s attempts at humour were completely lost on Alice.

‘Open the back’, she said.

Dick examined the hairbrush and after a few seconds located a small, almost-hidden clasp. The back clicked open to reveal a small screen and flashing lights.

‘Some sort of tracking device’, Dick guessed, smiling. ‘The Resistance has been busy’.

Alice told Dick that this detected the exact frequency on which the Party’s communications equipment operated and determined the proximity. That way Alice knew if the security forces were following her by road or foot. The silence of the device indicated they were safe so Alice carried out a planned detour that would take them to the Resistance HQ.

‘In the compartment ahead of you is a blindfold’, she said.

Dick reached inside and put it on without complaint. ‘It’s OK. I know the drill’.

‘What drill?’ It was time for Alice to frown.

Dick smiled. ‘It doesn’t matter’, he said, sinking low into his seat and closing his eyes behind the blindfold. ‘Just tell me when we get there’.

About thirty minutes later Dick was aware of the hovercar gradually slowing and then stopping, the doors opening with a hiss. Alice helped him out. Wherever he was, it was quiet. There were no audible clues at all to indicate where he might be. Dick realised he had no way of telling whether the HQ was actually located half an hour away from when he first put the blindfold on, or even five minutes away. For all he knew Alice could have been driving around and around aimlessly for most of that time to confuse him. As Taylor had said, the Resistance couldn’t afford to take any chances.

They entered an elevator, rode a few floors then exited, walked a bit further and entered another elevator. Alice had her arm through Dick’s to guide him and he began to feel aroused. He put this state down to a combination of factors. For a start, there was his natural, perpetual horniness. Then there was the gentle movement of the elevator and the effect this was having on his chaffing trousers. Plus of course the fact that he was wearing a blindfold and was helpless at the hands of a busty, attractive woman. If that wasn’t the start of a harmless fantasy then he didn’t know what was.

Then a thought struck him. ‘You know you said the Resistance was careful’, he asked Alice. ‘Well how do they know that I don’t have some tracking device on me as well? They could have planted one on me without my knowledge and have been monitoring me even as we’re speaking’.

‘You haven’t’, Alice added confidently. I have a device on me that can detect that’.

‘Don’t tell me’, Dick said with more than a hint of sarcasm. ‘It’s hidden in your lipstick’.

‘No’, answered Alice. ‘It’s disguised as a broach. My lipstick contains a small homing beacon’. Before Dick could ask any more questions the elevator stopped with a shudder and the doors opened with a dull clang. Alice escorted Dick along a corridor. He was aware of turning two corners and then stopping. After a moment Dick heard a buzzer sound and after another moment he heard what he assumed was some sort of intricate locking mechanism. It was. Alice gently ushered him through an open doorway and removed his blindfold. Dick immediately rubbed his eyes to adjust to the familiar sight of the Resistance HQ closely followed by the other familiar sight of Taylor welcoming Alice back with a passionate embrace. So she was his girl. Dick was relieved he’d reached the headquarters safely but this positive feeling was tinged with a slight feeling of jealousy. Taylor and Alice separated. The Resistance leader regained his composure and smiled at Dick.

‘Welcome back’, he said, shaking Dick’s hand firmly. Dick looked at Alice and then looked back down at Taylor’s hand, thinking about Alice and where Taylor’s hand must have been on numerous occasions. Dick wanted to take this hand and smell it, right here, right now, licking each finger one by one to see if there was any residual taste of Alice on them, but then realised how odd and disturbing this would be. Instead he spluttered something about being glad to be back and just how much he had to tell them about his experiences to date.

Taylor and Dick retired to the lounge area where a small crowd had gathered. Along with the familiar faces of Susan, Grace and Edward there was a rather stupid-looking older man named Humphrey. Taylor explained without any sense of irony that he worked in intelligence. It was his role to co-ordinate all the information the Resistance collated and try and make sense of it, in particular anything relating to the rumoured secret weapon which was being developed. Warmed by the fire and by brandy in his belly Dick told the group about everything that had happened to him since he had moved into his apartments and started at the Ministry. He told them about William, Mary, Vera, Benjamin, his other work colleagues and his recent report on prostitution. Humphrey nodded and made copious notes. Taylor nodded too, but this was the sort of nod that implied, ‘Yes, yes, I’ve heard all this before. Get on with it and tell me something I don’t know’.

He demonstrated far more interest when Dick told them all about Project Gladstone, the secretive project Vera had entrusted him with. Project Gladstone was basically an exercise in entrapment. The Party had wanted to eliminate prostitution, both the ‘fallen women’ and their clients, but the problem had been identifying any of them. Most of the prostitutes plied their trade in the City, a relatively small but bustling commercial area in London’s East End. It was here that they’d find wealthy clientele in the banking, legal and insurance businesses while the busy, labyrinthine streets made the area extremely difficult to police. Yes, the Party was aware of certain haunts frequented by the prostitutes but it took a disproportionate and unacceptable level of police manpower on surveillance missions to arrest anyone caught soliciting.

What was needed was a far more sophisticated method — which is how and why Project Gladstone came about. In Dick’s era this would have been known as a honey trap; using an attractive-looking woman posing as a prostitute as bait for unwary men whose minds were ruled not by their hearts, but by their groins. The Party had considered using some of its female members in this way but their time was deemed too precious to be used to round up a few sexual malcontents. Apart from the practical manpower issues Dick believed this plan had a fundamental flaw that had never been acknowledged; most female Party members were so unsexy and unglamorous it was doubtful whether they’d attract any men at all, no matter how sex-starved or desperate they were. So, given the shortage of women able or willing to pose as prostitutes, the Party approached the problem laterally. They made them.

‘Made what?’, asked Grace.

‘A number of super-realistic robots’, explained Dick.

‘What?’, enquired Humphrey, frowning. Dick guessed he’d never heard of ‘robots’ before. Of course, it could have been any of the words in his last sentence like ‘super-realistic’, ‘number’, or even ‘of’ — but Dick was almost certain it was the word ‘robots’.

‘You know, mechanical people’, explained Dick. ‘In this case, mechanical women that looked, walked, talked and for all I know, fucked like real women’. Dick looked around at a room of stunned faces. Even Alice who Dick had noticed was not the most expressive of people looked slightly shocked.

‘That’s incredible!’ exclaimed Taylor.

‘It’s hard to believe that they were so authentic that anyone would be fooled’, said Edward. ‘Nothing could ever be that realistic!’.

‘I’ve seen detailed pictures of the robots’, explained Dick. ‘And you’d really think they were actual fresh and blood. From all the information I’ve seen their skin was soft, their bodies were warm, their movements were fluid and they were all, how can I put it… anatomically correct’.

Cue another frown from Humphrey.

‘He means they had holes in the places they should have holes’, Susan explained to her naive colleague.

‘Exactly. I’m not sure whether anyone actually had sex with one of them, or what it might have been like, but I believe that technically it was possible’.