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Fan Fiction - Cogs in the Machines of God - Chapter 2

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II
 

Right in the middle of a blistering solo Glass twanged to an abrupt stop at the throng of people suddenly in the room in the recording studio. Ruby and June flanked the smug face of Sydney, assistant to Mr. Valentine, the owner of the record company. Ruby was telling him that they were in the middle of recording a guitar solo track and he appeared less than concerned as he strode across the polished floor. "Well if it isn't Slimeball Syd," observed Nanci in her usual truculent manner. She pulled her headphones off and her mane of yellow hair poofed back into place. It was a study in gravity-defying physics and Glass never ceased to be amazed. "To what do we owe this honor?," the slim blonde continued.

"The company is still waiting for an answer to the request for Cloning and Imprint rights," Sydney spoke in his oh-so-cultered voice. It was like butter. His shaggy black hair and goatee belied that annoying suave tone he spoke in.

"And we've already said that I see no reason to renegotiate the contract," countered Glass, sighing and placing his guitar on a stand. He knew it was his only saving grace in the cutthroat market and the music business. He'd taken to dressing in all black or black and varying swathes of white, silver, and light blue. Even in these decadent times, 21+ centuries after having nailed a good man to a tree, after the advent of genetic manipulation and augmentation, he stood out.

"The money and merchandising rights we're offering are more than fair--," the representative began.

"The answer is NO," squawked Ruby, waving her tattooed arms in exasperation.

"You've been taking a long time recording the new album. Don't make Mr. Valentine wait too long. He may have to go to the Council over your...behavior." The threat was left hanging in the air as Sydney was suddenly aware of June standing over him, not only that but she towered over him and he wasn't short, himself.

"Glass said no, and he means it. And I think the sooner you let him get back to business the sooner you lil bastards get your money." Leaning toward him she punctuated the syllables with a mean scowl. Sydney noticed her arms were much bigger than his and she looked like she meant business.

"Who the hell are you? What have you to do with Glass?"

"I'm June, and I do security," she smiled, a shark's grin that would've done Nanci proud. She noticed and snorted with gleeful approval. Even fans of the band referred to the reptillian bassplayer as Shark Lady.

Spluttering the company rat departed in a huff. Thunderjack and Snakeytooth the rhythm guitarist were rolling in laughter in exactly 1.5 seconds after Sydney left.

"Haha, that bluff about security sent that weasel scurryin'!," cackled Ruby, running fingers through her violet hair.

"Who said I was bluffin, little girl?," June growled at her before giggling.



"I told you to get those rights! Offer him whatever it takes!," roared the barrel-chested, red-faced executive. His office was sumptiously appointed, with all the state-of-art trappings of the 22nd century.

"And I reminded you he wouldn't sign them away," Sydney retorted.

"This ain't good, not good at all," Valentine went on, puffing his expensive cigar. "When's the new album supposed to be finished?"

"Soon," came the smooth reply. "Shall I have Glass...tailed?"

"Yes...yes, do that. Eccentric fuck."

"Eccentric doesn't begin to describe him," came the low-pitched feminine voice. The figure it belonged to turned in the swivel chair and stood, all her movements slow and deliberate. She was known only as Maya, a figure as mysterious as the Council itself. "His fans and converts to this I of the Radio cult grow daily. He's no longer a dabbler but a respected icon of this religious and cultural movement. I--and the Ruling Council--want him tamed and firmly under our control. His power and influence will be invaluable to us all."

"And what about this woman with him, this June?," asks Sydney.

"Watch her," Valentine says.



"I love you," he whispered, and he'd never meant anything he'd said before more.

"I love you, too," came the breathless reply. Deftly June rolled their tangled bodies till she was on top, smiling her spectacular smile. Every time was like the first time with her, with her he crashed and burned, he rose from the ashes like a phoenix. She gave completely of herself, unlike many of the girls he'd been with before, and he found the stark reality and the darkness he tried to deny in himself in her. His mirror, his joy.

We must never be apart..

The words seem to come from an external source...was it the Voice, the one from the radio? Was it his own thoughts? Did it really matter? Soon he was crying out his joy--he could well see why some of the ancients called orgasm the 'little death.' June didn't release him, however, until she'd gotten every drop out of him and a climax of her own as well. She slid until her head was nestled in the crook of his arm, an arm of her own thrown across his belly. "Why'd you pick me?," he asked her after a minute or so.

"'Cause," she murmured. "Something about you moved me. I followed you home."

"Just like that?"

"Yeah...I'd never done anything like that before," she chuckled, snuggling against his side. "But it felt right."

Before long he was asleep, floating in the dreamworld. He saw his mother young and vibrant, silohouetted against the bright sunshine of a summer's day. "C'mon, son!," she called to him. "Don't stare too hard at the sun, it'll blind you." A little boy Zero scampered to his mother, laughter bubbling up and out of his smiling face as she scooped him up.

"My son..."

The scene changed; Glass was an adult and standing before a great Cosmic Machine from which all of Creation flowed. "My son," boomed a voice from that great machine, and waves of energy pulsed from it, enveloping him in its warmth. He saw the vast scheme of the Universe before him, all the people of the Earth moving across its face like ants. He heard celestial music emanating from the machine and a sense of urgency penetrating right down to his very bones.

"What must I do?," he wondered.

"BELIEVE," the Voice spoke. "I of the Radio love you. I will always be with you. Believe."

When Glass opened his eyes he was sitting straight up in bed, breathing like he'd run a marathon, sweaty and naked. June was slumbering peacefully next to him, raven shoulder-length hair the only splash of color on the white sheets. It was God, he knew it! God had a mission for him, had given him what he most wanted--a woman by his side. Now he knew what he must do, nothing less than the saving of the human race from tyranny, from technology, from itself.

All the gods are One...

I am One...

We must never be apart.


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