Romance Loneliest Man Who Ever Lived

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[Note: This is a romance story with some erotic scenes. It is not a story with erotic scenes in every chapter. Some chapters have incredible sex scenes, but many others have none.]

The Foundation​

It was the following Monday. Harry spent several days getting settled in, having rented an apartment in Boston.

The Foundation operated out of a gleaming 10 story building with mirrored windows in Newton, Massachusetts, just outside of Boston.

The first thing Harry noticed were the uniforms. There were greeters at the entrance who looked like guards. Big, beefy men who wore blue jumpsuits over black shirts, and tall black boots. The blue jumpsuits had a symbol of a white dove on the left breast.

At the security entrance, Harry's ID was checked, rechecked, and rechecked again. Harry was electronically finger printed and iris scanned, and given a temporary ID card. Harry was given a long non-disclosure agreement and an even longer employment contract to sign. He sat for nearly an hour reading both. Finally, he signed.

The receptionist, a shapely brunette named Miss Camisa, smiled for the first time. "Good. Right on time. Mr. Slattery will see you in four minutes."

In four minutes? Had this Mr. Slattery estimated how long Harry would take to be processed and timed his arrival to the minute?

Four minutes later, Harry was led down a corridor by two guards in blue jumpsuits. Their black boots clomped against the white floors. Everything was white here--the walls, the ceiling, even the floors.

So, apparently, was Mr. Slattery's office, a large white room with white floor tile.

So, apparently, was Mr. Slattery, dressed in a white tie, white jacket, and white pants.

Mr. Slattery was a thin man, in his early 60's, balding, but still with a grey fuzz of hair on top of his head. He did not stand or offer to shake Harry's hand. Instead, he simply nodded as Harry came in, and his first word was, "Sit."

Harry saw a single, small white chair. He sat.

Then Slattery seemed to relax. "John Slattery," he said, extending a hand. "CEO of The Foundation."

"Nice to meet you," said Harry formally. Slattery had a firm grip.

"So, you've come to work for us," said Slattery.

"I guess," said Harry.

"You guess?" said Slattery.

"Considering I have no idea what your company does, or what I'd be doing for your company, that's the best way I can put it," said Harry.

Slattery gave him a stern look. Then he broke out into a smile. "Fair enough. Unfortunately, Harry--may I call you Harry?--Harry, until you signed our non-disclosure agreement, we were not at liberty to discuss our work further. We are on the cutting edge of brain science here at The Foundation." He paused, licking his lips. "We have developed a technology to tap the potential of the human brain. Consider that we only use a fraction of the human brain, a well known fact. That also means we only use a fraction of the brain's energy. We have found a way to tap into that energy, Harry. Do you know what that means? We can make people less tired. Athletes can play longer without getting mentally tired. Scientists can work longer with less sleep. Ordinary workers can be much more productive."

He paused to observe Harry's reaction.

Harry thought about it. "Impressive," he said grudgingly. "If true."

"Oh, it's true," said Slattery. "You'll see for yourself before long."

"Then what do you need me for?" Harry asked.

"The process is... imperfect," said Slattery. "We could use your help to improve it."

"Why me?" said Harry. "Strictly speaking, I dropped out of my Ph.D. program in biochemistry."

"Harry, Harry...." Slattery smiled. "We both know that you know far more than most people with doctorates in biochemistry. Your prime asset is your brain. You are a Fourther. We almost exclusively hire Fourthers for our analytical work. We can see things that others can't. And according to our information, you may be the highest scoring Fourther on the planet."

"Me?" Harry asked.

"Remember that test they made you take, in the sixth grade?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"You scored higher than anyone who had ever taken the test."

"I'm a lot smarter than I was in the sixth grade," said Harry.

"I know, Harry. That's why we want you here," said Slattery.

"And that's why you sent Goldie after me," said Harry.

"Yes. For those who don't respond to the usual methods of solicitation, we sometimes employ... less traditional methods of persuasion," Slattery smiled.

"Well... she was very persuasive on me," said Harry.

"Goldie is one of our very best recruiters," said Slattery.

Suddenly, Harry felt embarrassed. How much did Slattery know about what he and Goldie... about what they had done together? Harry bit his lip, and quickly changed the subject. "I notice that the salary in my contract is blank."

"That's because we're not going to pay you, Harry," said Slattery.

Harry just looked at him.

"You're a multi-millionaire. You already have more money than you could possibly need. Or want," said Slattery. "But if it pleases you, just tell us what salary you want. We'll agree to anything."

"Anything?"

"Within reason," Slattery smiled again.

Harry thought about it. "I'll have to get back to you on that," he said. He looked at the guards behind him. "Will I have to wear that uniform too?"

Slattery laughed. "Not unless you want to. That's only for our technical and security personnel."

"Why so many guards?"

"We have a lot of high tech secrets, Harry. You'd be surprised what industrial spies would do to learn what's going on here."

He gestured for Harry to get up. As he stood up, the guards approached. "And the bird?" Harry asked, pointing to the white bird on their blue jumpsuits.

"A symbol of freedom. Freeing the mind's potential," said Slattery. "Oh, one more thing, Harry. As a condition of employment, you are expected to have a medical exam with our inhouse physician within the first few days."

Harry nodded.

Slattery got up and shook Harry's hand again. "Truly a pleasure. These gentlemen will take you to processing. Please follow them, Harry."

After Harry left, a side door opened, and Doctor Severin came into the room.

"What do you think?" Slattery asked.

"He could be our best candidate yet," said Severin. "I can't wait to examine his brain patterns."

"Lev Bronstein," said the middle aged, portly man, shaking Harry's hand vigorously.

Lev Bronstein? Where had Harry heard that name before?

"Here's your office, right next to mine!" said Lev.

Harry's office turned out to be a white cubicle, slightly smaller than Lev's, complete with a desk, chair, and computer terminal.

Lev introduced Harry to other members of their team: Doctor Kaminsky, and Doctor Hunter. Doctor Kaminsky was a neurologist, Doctor Hunter was a physicist, and Lev was "a little bit of everything," he said, smiling broadly.

"We've heard so much about you," said Lev.

"You have?" said Harry.

"We've been expecting you for weeks. Doctor Slattery predicted to the day when you would come in."

"Did he?" Harry asked.

"John has everything planned out," said Doctor Hunter.

"He sent Goldie after you. She's the best," said Lev. "No one's ever said no to Goldie."

"No one has, eh?" Harry asked, getting a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Not one," said Lev. "Shall we get down to work, now?"

Before long, Harry was working on a brain interface application. There was so much information to sort through! There was a device, of some kind, which acted on the brain in some way, having some kind of effect. It would take Harry days to figure it all out.

As Harry worked, he was aware that Goldie must be here, somewhere, in the building. She must be aware that Harry was there. Surely she would come over to say hello.

But as lunchtime rolled around, there was no sign of Goldie. Lev and Doctors Kaminsky and Hunter took him out for lunch. And what did these geniuses, all Fourthers like Harry, talk about?

Women.

They were all having affairs with different members of the support staff. Doctor Kaminsky was seeing Lea Thompson, who worked in Processing; Doctor Hunter was pursuing Adriana McKenna, who worked in technical support, and Lev was currently chasing after Judy Camisa, who Harry had met in reception.

"She has big... you knows," said Lev, gesturing with his hands. The other men laughed. But they immediately noticed that Harry wasn't laughing.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Lev asked.

"Aren't you all married?" Harry asked, looking at their wedding bands.

"Of course we are," said Lev. "To Normals." He put an arm around Harry. "Harry, Harry, Harry... we all made the decision when we were younger to settle for less. What else could we do? There was no one of our caliber to mate with. But just because we settled for less doesn't mean we have to be satisfied with it. We are men of exceptional ability, and as Mr. Slattery always says, exceptional ability requires exceptional rewards."

"What about you, Harry? Are you seeing anyone?" Doctor Kaminsky asked.

"I... I... no," said Harry. He paused. "What about Goldie?"

As everyone laughed, Harry regretted asking the question.

"Ah, Harry has his eye on beautiful Goldie!" Lev roared.

"No, ah, it's just-"

"It's all right, Harry," said Lev. "More than a few of us would love to bisect her angle. But Goldie hasn't had eyes for other men ever since she got together with Greg."

"Isn't she engaged?" Doctor Hunter asked.

"I heard that," said Doctor Kaminsky. "What do you know, Harry?"

"I... I don't know anything," said Harry, feeling flustered.

The rest of the day passed slowly. Harry kept looking around to see if Goldie was going to show up. She didn't.

"Engaged!" Harry roared.

"You don't know that for a fact," said Carl. Harry had established a remote connection to Carl, back at his computer in Battery Park City.

"She never once came to visit me. Not once!"

"You have her comm code. Why don't you call her?"

"No, oh no," said Harry, shaking his head vigorously. "We're finished. We're done."

"You knew this all along," said Carl. "You knew she was only seducing you to get you to work for The Foundation."

"Yeah, I knew it, but...." Somehow, Harry had hoped it wasn't true. "She didn't even come by to say hello."

"So, what are you going to do?" Carl asked. "Go back to New York?"

"I need to think," said Harry thickly.

He had rented an apartment near Boston Common, and purposely so. He needed a place to walk. He needed a place to think.

It was evening now, and the park lamps were lit. He saw men and women walking from home from work. Some of the Boston women were quite pretty. Harry saw one in particular, with dirty blonde hair, wearing a beige coat. Harry's pace quickened. He intercepted her, looked at her face, and saw--

It was a complete stranger. Of course.

She stared at him, as if there was something odd about his expression. Harry hastily turned away.

He started walking aimlessly. He saw an attractive dark haired woman wearing tight pants and elegant high heels. He started to fantasize about her. She was walking with him, arm and arm. She was laughing with him. She was his woman. She looked lovingly in his eyes....

No, he couldn't do it. Not here. Not in this strange place.

This wasn't even a proper park. There was no place to drown himself. There was a small lake, but Harry wasn't at all confident that he could kill himself in it. And he would have to wade into it to get to the deep part. No, that wouldn't do at all.

Better to go back to New York.

"What did you decide?" Carl asked, when Harry returned.

Harry, footweary, collapsed into a chair. "I'll give it another day or two. I just want to see her, one more time. For closure."

"You may not see her at all."

"Then we'll just go home."

The next day, Lev Bronstein took Harry to meet Doctor Severin. Doctor Severin was about the same age as Doctor Slattery. He had long, thinning hair combed forward. His face was bony, skeletal, and his eyes were dark and shiny. He was dressed in the black jumpsuit with the white dove on his breast that the other technicians wore, but somehow it seemed especially sinister on him.

"Harry, it's so nice to finally meet you," said Doctor Severin, shaking his hand. Severin held Harry's hand just a moment too long, as he stared into Harry's eyes. He searched for a moment, looking for something, before he released him. "I have heard so many wonderful things about your brain, Harry."

"You have?" Harry said.

"Yes," said Severin. "With your scores, it appears you have one of the most highly advanced brains on the planet. I'd love to analyze it."

"I'm sure you would," said Harry, feeling a bit apprehensive.

"Would you consent to a few minor experiments--purely in the interest of science? The results would be amazing, I am sure," said Severin.

"No... not right now," said Harry.

"A pity," said Severin.

"I brought Harry here to see the Chair," said Lev.

"Of course. The Chair." Severin continued to look at Harry intently. Then he slowly nodded.

He took Harry and Lev Bronstein to another room. There was a technician in a blue jumpsuit operating a control panel. And in front of him was a large black man sitting in a chair. An apparatus came down from the ceiling, like the barrel of a laser rifle, except it had glowing round sections all along it.

"Ah, yes, the Washington experiment," said Severin.

Harry looked at the large black man in the chair. His eyes were wide, and he moaned, and his body contorted. "You're hurting him!"

"I assure you, he is in no discomfort whatsoever," said Severin.

The black man continued to moan. Harry had to resist the urge to step in and shut off the equipment. But he had to assume that Doctor Severin knew what he was doing.

As the man continued to moan, Doctor Severin's gaze turned from the man to Harry. He watched Harry closely. It was almost as if Harry had become part of the experiment, a different experiment, one to see if Harry would be obedient to authority, if he would permit this to continue. Harry remembered a famous experiment where people were asked to inflict pain on others. The recipients were actors who pretended to be in pain, and the subjects of the experiment was those inflicting the pain. The purpose of the experiment was to find out if people, under pressure from others, would inflict pain on others.

And now here was Harry, not inflicting pain on someone else, but standing there passively while pain appeared to be inflicted on someone else.

He met Doctor Severin's eyes. Severin looked at him for a ten count, and then he nodded. "Stop!" he commanded.

The machine powered down.

"Good, good," said Severin, looking at Harry. Then he turned to the man in the chair. "And how are you feeling today, Mr. Washington?"

The man was awash with sweat. "I... I..."

"Stand up slowly, Reginald."

The large black man stood up. He was very tall. "I... I feel full of energy, doc! Like I could play five games of hoops without getting tired."

"Very good, Reginald," said Severin. "Follow our technician into the testing room. I'm sure the results will be most illuminating." A technician in a blue jump suit escorted Washington to another room.

"Fatigue, Mr. Crater," said Severin. "Part of it is physical, but part is in the mind. Our device will be a boon for everyone who wants an extra boost of energy."

"Impressive. Are there any side effects?"

"None at all. Except a feeling of tremendous well being," said Severin. "Would you like to try it?"

"No, thanks," said Harry.

"Perhaps Harry would like to try the other Chair," said Lev Bronstein.

"Of course. Come with me, Harry."

They followed Severin down a white corridor. They left the technical section and went into a common area, a lounge of some sort. And in this lounge was a similar chair, with a device pointing down at the ceiling from it.

"Perhaps you'd like to try the Relaxation Chair, Harry," said Doctor Severin.

"Relaxation Chair?" Harry asked.

"A byproduct of our initial research. We discovered a process which relaxes the mind. It wipes fatigue away. A smaller version of our research chair. We call it the Relaxation Chair."

"It's great. We all use it," said Lev. He sat down in the chair. It automatically activated.

"Is there no one at the controls?" Harry asked, indicating the control panel.

"The relaxation chair is automatically set to a two minute cycle. Watch."

The machine came on with a powerful hum. Lev sat back and reclined. A small smile appeared on his face as a light shined on it. The machine hummed as something was done to him. His eyes glazed over. He seemed to be staring out into space.

Promptly two minutes later, the process ended. Lev blinked and reoriented himself.

"How do you feel?" Doctor Severin asked.

"Wonderful," said Lev.

"You appeared to blank out there," said Harry.

"The subject is unaware of the passage of time during the process," said Doctor Severin. "A necessary side effect of the procedure."

"Try it, Harry," said Lev.

"Yes, try it," said Doctor Severin.

Harry saw both of them staring insistently at him. "Maybe later. I'd like to study it, first."

"Harry wants to understand everything first," said Lev. He put an arm around Harry. "I was like that too, when I first came here. I'm the guy who wants to know the chemical composition of a pill before I swallow it. I understand, Harry. But sooner or later, you'll try the chair. You'll just want to."

"I'm sure," said Harry, feeling uncomfortable with Lev's arm around him. He felt Doctor Severin's big eyes on him.

"We should be getting back to work," said Lev.

"Of course," said Severin. "Oh, Harry, one more thing. Have you had your medical examination yet?"

"Not yet," said Harry. Someone from medical had called him yesterday, but he had delayed them.

"Best get it out of the way," said Severin. "Most employees have it done in the first week."

"I will. Thanks," said Harry, giving a false smile.

He saw her later that morning. At first, it was out of the corner of his eye. A blonde woman, talking to a coworker.

He only saw her from behind. She had the same dirty blonde hair. She was wearing a pink blouse and a matching skirt. She was talking to a handsome dark haired man.

"Of course, Oliver. I'd love to have lunch with you." She tittered.

That was Goldie's titter.

Harry slowly walked around her. She noticed him out of the corner of her eye. Awareness washed over her face in slow motion. Even as she talked to Oliver, her eyes widened, and she stared more directly at Harry, and her mouth dropped open.

"Harry!" she said.

Harry extended a hand, unsure what to do, but Goldie was having none of that. She grabbed him in a bear hug. "I missed you so," she murmured. Then she pulled back.

"Oliver, I'll see you later, ok? Ok. I have something I have to do first," she said, staring meaningfully at Harry.

As soon as Oliver was out of sight, she dragged Harry down the hallway.

"How have you been, Harry?" she asked.

"Fine, Goldie. How have you been?" he asked, mechanically. The whole situation felt so unreal.

Goldie pulled Harry into a storeroom, saw no one was there, and shut the door. Then she gave him an incredible kiss.

It went on for a long moment. The heat of her lips against his made Harry moan.

She pulled back, her hands on his cheeks. "I missed you, Harry," she said again.

"I missed you too," said Harry. "I arrived yesterday-"

"I know! I know, but they had me so buried in work," said Goldie. "I have to see you."

"Lunch?"

"I can't," said Goldie.

Can't? He had just seen her with his own eyes agree to have lunch with some guy named Oliver.

"Tonight, after work?" Harry asked.

"I can't," she said again, letting her hands roam all over his chest. "I'm flying out to Charlotte. How about Thursday? Thursday night, Harry?"

Harry nodded. It would have to do.

She kissed him so much. "I can't wait."

They left the storeroom together, almost bumping into a blonde woman who was walking by.

"Claire!" said Goldie, reddening.

"Goldie," said the other woman, looking at Goldie's flustered reaction, then Harry, then the open door behind them. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your... storeroom friend?"

Goldie blushed mightily. "Harry... Harry... this is my sister, Claire."

"Harry?" The blonde's eyebrows went up. "Harry Crater?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Well, we've certainly heard a lot about you. You're supposed to be the smartest man on the planet," said Claire.

"Well, I don't know about that," said Harry.

"And modest, too," said Claire quickly, with a smile.

Harry chanced a quick look at Goldie's sister. If Goldie was pretty, then Claire was gorgeous. Goldie had pert, womanly breasts; but Claire's were larger, like a supermodel. She had long, slender legs, and her hair was a bright yellow color. She had gorgeous blue eyes, like her sister. And she was a few inches taller than Goldie.

"Harry, she's taken," said Goldie, seeing the play of emotions on Harry's face.

"Not for lunch I'm not," said Claire. "Do you have any plans for lunch, Harry?"

"Why..." Harry looked at Goldie. "No. I guess not."

"Good, I'll meet you at your workstation in an hour," said Claire, even as Goldie was staring open-mouthed at Harry. "See you then."

Harry watched as she walked away, wiggling her ass on her long shapely legs.

"Take a picture, Harry, it will last longer," said Goldie.

"Goldie-"

Goldie kicked him in the ankles and stomped off.

Harry learned more about Goldie's sister over lunch.

Claire MacPherson was a biomathematician at The Foundation. And what's more, she was a Fourther.

Goldie had a sister who was a Fourther?

"She didn't tell you?" Claire said.

Harry was forced to shake his head.

Claire sighed theatrically. "Well, it's still nice that little Goldie has finally found a friend," said Claire. They were sitting at an eatery in downtown Cambridge, one of Claire's "special places".

"Little Goldie?" Harry asked, still dumbfounded to be having lunch with such a gorgeous woman. Truth be told, Claire was prettier than Goldie. How had he, the ultimate loner, fallen upon such an embarrassment of riches?

"My little sister. I'm three inches taller than she is, in case you hadn't noticed."

Harry had noticed. It was all in the legs. Her glorious, long shapely legs which were encased in nude pantyhose.

"She was always a troubled girl," said Claire, munching on her sandwich.

"Troubled?"

"A restless spirit," said Claire. "Always getting into trouble. Very wild in her younger years. I think she must have bedded a quarter of the men at Wesleyan."

Harry dropped his soup spoon. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You want her. It's written all over you." She paused, looking at him. "You seem like a nice guy. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Hurt?"

"I love my sister dearly, Harry. Really, I do. But she devours men, Harry. She chews them up and spits them out."

"What does that mean?"

"She gets bored of men quickly. She tires of other men. It's just a matter of time before she tires of you. Frankly, I'm amazed she's stayed with Greg as long as she has," said Claire.

"Greg?"

"I think they are practically engaged. It would make my parents so happy, Harry. Little Goldie, finally settling down." She looked at his face. "You didn't know?"

Harry didn't know what to say.

"I... I...."

"It's really for the best, Harry. She's not your type. You need a stable woman. Do you know I got Goldie her job here?"

"You did?"

"She was floundering in one job after another. Finally I told her to work in recruiting. That's her skill, Harry, she's finally found her sweet spot. Do you know what her specialty is, Harry?"

He shook his head.

And she leaned forward and whispered, "Getting men to say yes."

Claire looked at his face. "She got to you, didn't she Harry? But you must have known she was just doing a job. I can see your type a mile away. You were lonely, weren't you? And Goldie took advantage of your loneliness, didn't she? Did she flatter you, Harry? Did she tell you how attractive you are? Did she do more than that? Be sure that she's done it with many men, Harry. Take my word for it, she's not the kind of girl for you."

Harry felt numb, as if he had been struck with a metal crowbar directly to his head. "What... what kind of girl should I be with, then?"

"Well, of course, a Fourther, Harry," said Claire. She reached out and touched his hand. "A woman who is really smart, just like you are. But then, if the rumors are true, no one is as smart as you are, are they, Harry? Imagine how smart your offspring would be, if you mated with a fellow Fourther." Her blue eyes were shining. She leaned closer to his face. Harry looked at her plush red lips. They reminded him of Goldie's. They moved closer, closer, closer....

And then Claire leaned back, and checked her chrono, and smiled. "Well look at the time! We'd better get back! This has been kind of a long lunch, hasn't it, Harry?"

Harry was in a daze that afternoon. He knew intellectually, of course, that Goldie always had a separate agenda with him. She had never hidden it. But he had nursed a hope that in addition to that, somehow, she also had feelings for him. Claire made it very clear that Goldie didn't. And then there was Greg....

As he walked down a white corridor of The Foundation, he found himself unexpectedly yanked into a storeroom.

"Hey!" he said, before he saw who it was.

It was Goldie.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded fiercely.

"What do you mean?"

"Going out with her."

"It was lunch, Goldie. And I asked you, but you were too busy with Oliver." He saw the accusation sting her. Good.

"That was different," said Goldie.

"Different how?" Harry asked.

"What I want to do with you can't be done over lunch," Goldie purred. "I missed you," she said. She moved her lips closer to him.

Harry remembered everything Claire had told him. About how manipulative Goldie was. About how many men she went through. About-

Her lips pressed against his, and all thoughts went out of his head. He hungrily grinded his lips against hers. Her lips were warm and moist and juicy. When she pulled back, she had a satisfied look. "Have you forgotten about her, now?"

Harry nodded.

They heard footsteps.

"I have to go," said Goldie.

"Goldie, just one thing-"

"Yes?"

"Are you getting married? To Greg?"

Goldie gave him an odd look. "What?"

"Are you engaged, to Greg?"

Goldie drew a deep breath. "No!"

"Are you marrying him?"

"No!" said Goldie. Understanding dawned in her eyes. "She told you, that, didn't she? That little bitch! I'll-"

At that moment a man wearing a blue jumpsuit entered the supply room.

"I'll get right on that, Mr. Crater," said Goldie, smiling as she walked to the door.
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