Romance Loneliest Man Who Ever Lived

"It's my pleasure."

Harry looked up in time to see John smiling at Goldie. Goldie smiled back nervously, until she noticed John's stare, and she dropped her fork. It fell to the ground with a clatter.

The next day, Harry decided to take a break during midday. The truth is that he wanted to see what Goldie was up to. But when he walked through the house, and the garden, he saw no sign of them. He approached Schumer, the butler. "Where is he?" he asked bluntly.

"Mr. Connor is taking a ride on his yacht."

"Then... where is Goldie?"

Schumer sucked in his lips. "I believe Miss MacPherson is with him, sir."

Harry nodded slowly. He felt a terrible anger building up inside of him. More than that, a sense of betrayal. He ran out into the garden, looking futilely for a deep body of water.

Ernest Fibulae found him an hour later, trembling before a fountain.

"Harry... Harry, you've got to get back to the markets. I need you," said Fibulae.

Harry, biting his lip, slowly nodded. He let himself be led back to the workroom.

"I hope Harry isn't going to worry about us," said Goldie, as she stared at the view off the side of the ship. By us, of course, she meant her.

"We'll be back even before he notices we're gone," said John. He smiled at her as he handed her a drink. "You look radiant in that outfit."

Another of John's gifts. She wore a tight white beige, with plenty of cleavage (of course), and a matching short gold skirt meant to show off her legs. John had even given her a pushup bra which made her breasts look larger... which Goldie, after some hesitation, had strapped herself into.

"Thank you," said Goldie. She took a sip. It was a good vintage.

"I know Harry is a man of some wealth. Has he ever taken you on a yacht, or bought you elegant clothes?"

"Harry... Harry isn't like that," said Goldie. Harry was brilliant, but he didn't have a sense of style. Not like John. John was impeccably dressed, in a skintight white sailor's outfit, from head to toe.

"I understand you two are having some difficulty," said John.

"Spying on us, John?" Goldie asked, peering out at him from the top of her glass of wine.

"Merely being an attentive host. One doesn't need to be a Fourther to realize that there's some conflict between the two of you."

"Harry is... troubled. He doesn't feel he deserves me."

"He's right about that," said John. He snaked an arm around her waist. "He doesn't."

Goldie felt the heat of his hand. She felt the pressure of his belly against his back. And... something else.

She looked out at the ocean, the clouds, and the island of Maui. "It's so beautiful."

"Do you want me to show you an even more beautiful sight?"

Goldie looked into his eyes, and nodded.

John led her inside, to the drawing room, where there was a giant mirror on one wall. He stood behind her and held her arms out. "This, Goldie. This is beautiful." He curved his head around from behind her so his face was next to hers.

Trembling slightly, Goldie turned her head so it faced his. He moved his lips over her, and he kissed her. Goldie sighed as she felt his lips against hers.

After John pulled back, he looked at her with dark eyes. Then he stood back, and held out his hand.

Goldie hesitated for a long moment, and then she took it.

Harry was absolutely silent at dinner.

"How were the markets today, Harry?" John asked.

"Fine," said Harry.

Goldie saw from his face. He knew. "Harry. John took me on his boat today."

"That's nice," said Harry.

"We saw the ocean, it was beautiful," said Goldie. "John says we can go again this weekend. Together. If you like."

"No thanks," said Harry.

"You want to bone up on the stock market this weekend, Harry?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"All right," said John. "I'll try to find ways to keep Goldie entertained while you're occupied."

Goldie looked anxiously at Harry. But Harry's head was down, spooning food. But he wasn't putting it in his mouth. He was just moving it around.

That evening, when they returned to their room, Harry turned on Goldie as soon as the door was shut. "I have just one question," he said. "Are you sleeping with him?"

"Harry!"

"Are you sleeping with him?"

Goldie stared at him angrily. Then, finally, she said, "No, Harry. I am not sleeping with him."

Harry turned away, anger radiating from him in waves that Goldie could clearly feel.

John took Goldie out on the yacht again on Saturday. Harry didn't go.

On Sunday, Goldie stayed in and read a book. Harry sat by the fountain in the garden, staring into the pool of water. She hadn't seen him looking this bad, not since....

And then, that evening, John started drinking. Maybe that's what triggered it. Because he made her do something, something Goldie should never have done.

After dinner, John turned on his stereo, and play some traditional Hawaiian music. "Goldie, would you like to dance?"

Goldie looked at Harry, who was sulking in a chair. "No, John." She was puzzled by the request. This wasn't exactly ballroom dancing music.

John saw her misunderstanding. "No, my dear. I want you to dance... for us."

"I... I don't think so, John."

John turned up the volume of the music. "It wasn't a request, my dear."

She saw the hard expression on her face. She saw Harry watching her.

Slowly, Goldie got up. She started to wiggle to the music. She was wearing a white blouse, and a short skirt, and high heels. She didn't have to look down to see her breasts starting to jiggle.

John waved his hand, ever so slightly. He wanted more. Goldie trembled, but nodded. She started rubbing her body with her hands. She touched her thighs, her rib cage, her belly, and... and her breasts. She started wiggling her hips more and more aggressively. The strong Hawaiian music seemed to carry her, to encourage her. She rotated her hips sinuously. She felt herself moving with the music. She tried not to look at John. She tried to look at Harry, to entice him. When she saw him look up, she looked at him with pleading eyes.

But it was too much for Harry. He knew exactly what was going on here. His woman was being made to do an erotic dance, made to do it by another man. He was being cuckolded, humiliated, right in front of his own eyes. He got up, and stomped off.

"How disappointing," said John. "I always thought Harry was a music lover."

"Ah... ah... aahhhhhh...." John groaned, as he filled Goldie with his sperm. He collapsed on top of her gratefully. "That was so good, my dear."

"For me too," said Goldie, smiling.

"Just... one thing," said John. "Are you... protected?"

Goldie smiled again. All men were alike. They always asked long after it mattered. "Quite well protected, John. You won't be putting a baby into my belly accidently."

"I might grow to like the idea of doing it on purpose, if we get to know each other a little better, my darling."

Goldie bit her lip. She watched him get up, still nude, and slide a painting to the side of the bed. She watched his arm and hand move over a numerical keypad. John opened the safe. Inside she saw money, some white packets, some data crystals... and a compression gun. John took out a white packet.

"A little pick me up, dear?"

Goldie smiled, but shook her head.

Monday was a disaster. The United States government announced it was going to raise interest rates by a full percentage point. The move took the markets totally by surprise. The markets plunged nearly 17%.

Goldie watched it from the drawing room with John. His expression hardened each time the stock indexes dropped another point.

"John... he couldn't have known about this. No one could have known about this," said Goldie.

"He should have been properly hedged for such a circumstance," said John grimly. He pressed his comm. "Mr. Fibulae? What is our market status?"

There was no answer.

"Mr. Fibulae, answer!"

"Sir..." came his distant voice. "Your holdings are down... nineteen percent."

John's eyes flared. He turned to look at Goldie. John took out his pocket knife, and took a step towards her.

Goldie instinctively took a step back. "Please, John. No. After what we've shared. Please, don't." She was babbling now.

John paused, and then stopped entirely. "You're right, my dear."

"I am? I mean, you're going to give him another chance?"

"No," said John. "Mutilating you would only be punishing me. I'm not going to cut off one of your fingers. It would diminish your beauty far too much."

"Oh, thank you, John!"

"Instead, I'm going to cut off three of Harry's."

"Three?"

"A nineteen percent loss is totally unacceptable. I want to make that point quite clearly."

Goldie started to quickly walk towards the exit.

"Where are you going, my dear?"

"To my room. I don't want to see this. Unless you're going to force me to watch?" She glared at him, for a moment.

John considered, and then nodded. "Very well. But I want you to know that I take no pleasure in what I have to do."

"I... I know," said Goldie.

"I'll see you later, at dinner, then."

"Yeah," said Goldie.

The markets closed just as John entered the workroom. Harry was frantic. Once the markets started plunging, he tried to think of something, anything, to stem the losses. If he could keep it under two percent, maybe John would be forgiving. But the more he tried, the more money he ended up losing. By the close of business, John's investments had lost 22% of their value.

And then John entered the room, flanked by two guards. Harry knew what was coming.

"Where's Goldie?" he said immediately.

"Goldie is fine. I have decided not to punish her for this malfeasance."

"Ohhhh... oh, thank you, John," said Harry. He felt like crying for joy.

"Instead, I am going to punish you, Harry. Three fingers."

"Three fingers?"

"For a 22% loss, I cannot take any less. Hold him." Guards rushed forward to grab Harry.

"Please, sir, don't do this," said Fibulae.

"Do you want to lose some fingers too, Ernest? Or perhaps your tongue?"

Fibulae shook his head.

"Then stay silent."

One guard held each of Harry's arms. John drew his switchblade out of his pocket. He opened it. The blade gleamed in the light. He moved over to Harry's right hand. He touched Harry's trembling hand. And then he placed the blade over his middle finger.

"I want you to know, Harry, that this is not personal. Not at all."

"Neither is this," said Goldie, from behind him.

John felt something pressing into his back. He stiffened, but didn't turn around. "Goldie, that feels suspiciously like the barrel of a compression pistol."

"Yes, it does, doesn't it?"

"But the only idle pistol is in my bedroom safe."

At the mention of his bedroom, Harry's eyes widened.

"You keep telling me how lovely my eyes are, John. They're also pretty functional too. They can see when an arm moves up or down or left or right over a keypad."

John's eyebrows lifted. "I underestimated you, my darling." He turned his head. "But do you have the will to use it?"

In one smooth motion, Goldie aimed at one of the monitors and fired. The monitor exploded in a burst or flame. The weapon was obviously set to the highest setting. Then she pressed the weapon to the back of his head. "Now tell them to let go of Harry, or I'll blow your fucking head off."

John paused, and wet his lips. "Do as the lady says."

The guards released Harry.

"Now you are going to escort us out of here. You are even going to give us an air car. In fact, you're coming with us, until we get back to Kahului."

"Oh no, my dear, I'll not let myself be used as a hostage."

"Or you can be dead." She jabbed him in the back with the gun. He felt the heat of the recently used barrel through his thin shirt. "What will it be, John?"

Two hours later, they were on a plane bound for San Francisco. Harry was silent the entire trip. So was Goldie.

When they landed, Harry booked them a suite at the Excelsior.

When they got to their hotel room, Harry closed the door behind them. He saw Goldie standing there, staring at him expectantly.

"Did you sleep with him?"

"Is that your first question, Harry? Your very first question after hours and hours of silence?"

"Did you sleep with him?"

Goldie paused. Then the dam burst. "Yes, I fucking slept with him, Harry!"

"You lied to me," said Harry.

"Yes, Harry, I lied to you. I needed you to be focused on the stock market. If you weren't, one of us was going to get mutilated."

Harry stood face to face with her,. "What else did you lie about? Did you sleep with all those people you recruited for The Foundation?"

"No Harry. Everything else I told you was true. Everything from the day I met you!"

"How can I know that? How can I ever trust you again?"

"You are such a pussy, Harry. I'm sick of you!" Goldie declared. "You weren't doing anything to try to help us escape, so it was up to me! Yes, Harry, I lied to you, and I slept with him, and it was great, Harry! The best sex I've ever had! That's why I'm with you now, and not John! Can you figure it out, Harry? I can see the wheels spinning in your genius mind! Why am I here now with you, instead of him? Can your fucking Fourther super genius brain not figure that one out?"

For once, Harry was without words.

"You disgust me, Harry. You turn me over to Greg like some castrated pussy. You and your fucking almighty morality. " She slapped him on the face. "I've been wanting to do that for days, Harry! I've been wanting to do that ever since you handed me over to Greg, like a used tissue!" She slapped him again. "And then you refused to fuck me, and sat there like a cuckold, smiling like an asshole while John took me!" She slapped him a third time. "What are you, a man, or a mouse? I made a mistake, I can see it now! I'm with the wrong man! I'm going to hop right back onto a plane to Maui, and beg John to take me back, and fuck me blind! And you can stay here and fuck Veronika until your balls turn blue!" She raised her hand to slap him again.

Harry grabbed her hand, roared, and slapped her with his free hand. She fell on her back on the bed, and in an instant Harry was on top of her. His mouth was on her, pressing. But it wasn't just a kiss. It was a ferocious, savage taking. Goldie cried out as Harry bit her lower lip, kissing and mauling her lips strongly.

Goldie tried to cry out again as Harry savaged her lips, but all that came out was a moan. She felt her arms, her legs, her body, all pinned down by his weight. He was not asking, he was taking. And then she heard rather than felt her shirt being ripped open, and in seconds her bra was gone too.

"Oh Harry," said Goldie, with a genuine smile.

Harry proceeded to pull off her skirt and panties. Goldie wouldn't have stopped him even if she could. Harry rapidly pulled off his own clothes, and in seconds he was inside of her. There was no foreplay; there was just primal, aggressive intercourse.

Goldie's entire body jolted violently upwards every time Harry thrust into her. She felt her head banging lightly against the backboard. She heard the groans of the bedsprings as Harry pounded into her. She felt him taking her with a passion, with an extreme need she never felt before. It excited her in a way she had never felt before.

Harry was so aggressive, so dominant, so alpha male. She saw the glazed look in his eyes as he worked her over. Harry wasn't being concerned; Harry wasn't being thoughtful. Harry had turned into a pure savage, a complete animal. And she had done that to him. She had turned the smartest male in the world into a savage animal. Goldie felt proud. And then Harry's face, contorted like she had never seen it, gave a roar which shook her, and she felt him freeze inside of her tautly, as he exploded deep within her. Goldie's orgasm came at that moment, triggered by the knowledge of her tremendous achievement, that she had turned a shy, procrastinating man into an aggressive, jealous lover. She found herself crying out his name, as he flooded into her, and smiled as she felt her orgasm, radiating out in waves from her vagina, which was a little sore... but didn't prevent her from feeling very, very satisfied, and triumphant.

And then, only after he was done, she saw the light of civilization return to his eyes. Harry looked at himself as if he were a stranger. Then he looked at Goldie, as the bruise marks on her upper arm, where he had grabbed her tightly; the light bruises on her neck, where he had kissed her passionately; and the bite marks around her bright red areolas.

"Goldie..." he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Goldie slapped him in the face.

Harry looked startled.

"I don't want to hear that word from you ever again, Harry Crater," said Goldie. "I want to hear that you love me, and you'll protect me, and you won't give me to other men, and you won't stand by and let other men fuck me."

"Never," said Harry. "Never again. But...."

"But what?"

"But what if we find the Chair, and we find out what was done to you? Won't you want to reverse it?"

Goldie paused a moment. "I don't know. I don't think so. Not if it means losing you. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. If we come to it. For now, we're together, and I don't want anything to come between us. I love you, Harry Crater."

"And I love you, Goldie MacPherson."

The Second Rule of Alexandra was dead and buried.

"They call it the Archive."

"The what?" said Goldie.

"The Archive," said Harry.

He and Goldie had rented an apartment in Orlando. It was early February and the rest of the nation was still in the grips of winter. Harry had spent the time trying to decipher more of the data he had downloaded from The Foundation.

At first, he had suggested to Goldie that they go after one of the other names on The Foundation's "people of interest" list. But Goldie had put her hands on her hips and said, "Every time we've done that, we've been captured by some group of fanatics."

Harry frowned. "I wouldn't call John Connor a group of fanatics. He was simply an individual who was taking advantage-"

"Of your girlfriend," said Goldie, smiling sweetly.

Harry winced. "Do you have to be like that?"

"Like what?" said Goldie, sitting down on Harry's lap.

"Always so... rough around the edges," said Harry.

"You're right, Harry. You're always right. Would you rather I be like this?" And suddenly her face was blank, and her voice a monotone. "Harry, are we going to investigate another name from the list? What a good idea! I will get my shoes. I cannot wait to start on another fun and exciting adven-"

Her words were abruptly cut off as Harry kissed her. "Mmmm," said Goldie, squirming on his lap and wrapping her arms around him.

When he pulled back, he said, "You're right. Don't change. It's one of the things I love about you."

"You know, Harry, you've never told me exactly what it is you do love about me," said Goldie. "We both know why I love you. It's because I've been programmed to. You have absolutely no redeeming qualities any woman would find attractive." She ticked them off on her fingers. "Handsome, no. Brilliant, never. Creative? Have yet to see it. Good in bed? Wouldn't know." She smiled at him. "But you're not programmed to love me. So what's your excuse?"

Harry felt a stirring in his groin as he felt the warm weight of the very attractive female in his lap. "Are you fishing for compliments, Goldie?"

"Always," she said, kissing him again.

"All right," he said, looking at her appraisingly. "You're beautiful. You're sexy-"

"It's funny how those are always the first two things out of a man's-"

"Are you going to let me finish?" Harry asked.

Goldie, uncharacteristically, fell silent. "As I was saying. You're beautiful, and great in bed. But you're also wild, usually in a good way-"

"Usually?"

He kissed her to silence her again.

"And you're funny, and witty, and... lively. It really came to me, when we were on the island and they were trying to get me to...."

"Fuck all those women?"

"Yes, as you so delicately put it. They were wonderful girls, all of them. But they didn't have your... vivaciousness," said Harry.

Goldie looked at him judgmentally. "Just for that, you've earned another kiss." And she pressed her lips against his straddling him so her legs were on the ground, and her groin was almost flush against his. She felt his burgeoning hardness, and smiled. "So, what have you come up with? Besides the other thing, I mean."

She loved it when Harry reddened. She grinned as she climbed out of his lap.

"I have decoded another section of the database I downloaded from The Foundation. This one is full of information about genetics."

"Genetics? What does that have to do with anything?"

"I don't know," said Harry. "But there are repeated references to a place called 'The Archive'."

"Do we have a location?"

"No, but one of the files has a photo."

"Carl!" said Goldie.

"Yes, Goldie?" said Carl.

"Say, Carl, I just had a thought. Do you listen in when Harry makes love to me?" Goldie asked.

"Carl, don't answer that," said Harry. "I'm uploading a photo. I want you to check all planetary databases and find us a location."

"Processing."

Goldie wrapped her arms around Harry's chest. "While Carl's processing, why don't we do the same?"

Harry smiled and got up.

"But first, turn off the link to Carl! I don't want him listening in!"

"But what if he finds the location?"

"So? You can't wait five minutes to find the location?"

"Five minutes?" said Harry.

"Or ten, if we do it twice," said Goldie.

"Come here, woman," he growled, as he pulled her towards the bedroom.

It was actually two hours before Harry reactivated the link to Carl. They didn't actually have sex for all that time, of course. Harry just liked lying next to Goldie, and looking at her. Especially when her eyes were closed. She looked so angelic when she was sleeping.

Her breasts, so round and firm, were fun to look at too. Harry hated to admit it, but when he made little bite marks on them, it turned him on even more.

The dark triangle between her legs also filled him with lust. Somehow the idea of a blonde woman with dark pubic hair excited him beyond reason. He especially enjoyed seeing it after sex, when her pubic bush was wet and sweaty, and he could see their combined wetness oozing out of her slit.

Goldie, of course, noticed him staring at her body, but Harry think she liked it. At least, she smiled at him as he looked at her. Whenever Harry would get hard, just by looking at her, she would grin and look very pleased with herself.

Two hours later, feeling refreshed and relaxed, they found a location. It was in St. Louis, Missouri.

It was a non-descript office building on the seedier side of town. Harry and Goldie observed it for a while. It seemed empty.

"Do you think we should call in the FBI, Harry?" Goldie asked.

Harry shook his head. "They'll just chase us away. There may be information in there that will lead us to Claire." He paused. "Besides, I don't want Greg muscling in on my woman."

Goldie hugged him. "FINALLY! You're starting to act like a man, Harry, and I like it!"

Harry grinned.

Harry and Goldie, with compression pistols drawn, snuck into the building under the cover of darkness.

The offices were abandoned. There was a lock on the door, but Harry overrode it. He had a number of handy tools he had developed for missions like these.

They crept inside. They used flashlights, since all the lights were off. They came across row after row of empty desks, and pulled out computer cores.

"Looks abandoned," said Goldie.

"Let's keep looking."

They eventually went down into a basement, where they saw large drawers, rows and rows of them, as far as the eye can see.

Goldie moved to open one of them, and shined a light on the contents. She screamed, almost dropping her flashlight.

It was a human body.

"Is it..."

"Dead," said Harry, feeling for a pulse.

"But... he looks so young?"

"We'd need an autopsy to find out more," said Harry.

They quickly checked several more drawers.

They all contained human bodies.

The drawers were alphabetized. Harry started walking down the rows.

"Harry, where are you going?"

"To follow up a nasty hunch," said Harry.

Goldie ran after him.

Harry went to the row of filing cabinets that said "C" over them. He opened up one after another after another... until one made Goldie scream again.

Inside the drawer was Harry. Harry opened up another drawer, and another, and another.

All in all he found four Harrys.

All dead.

"What... how?"

Harry didn't answer. He started walking down the rows. He went to the letter M.

"No," Goldie whispered, as he started opening drawers.

It took him seven tries before he found her.

The Archives contained four dead Harry Craters, and one dead Goldie MacPherson.

"What are they?"

"Clones," said Harry.

"But... they're fully grown. No one has the technology to do this."

"Evidently The Foundation does." Harry looked around. "Let's get out of here."

"Gladly."

They made it back to their hotel without incident.

"This explains a lot of things," said Harry.

"It does?" said Goldie. She shivered, and Harry wrapped his arms around her.

"That medical exam they wanted so badly. I thought they wanted my brainscan."

"They didn't?"

"Oh, they did. I saw Doctor Severin practically drooling over it. But that was only a secondary goal. I think primarily they wanted my blood."

"For cloning?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"But... why would they want to clone you? Four times? And me, one time?"

"Think of it. I'm the smartest man in the world, so they say. Imagine four Harry Craters, working for them."

"But they weren't working for them. They were dead."

"Or were killed, when they failed to meet expectations. I'm no coroner, but my guess is that they were poisoned."

"Poisoned?"

"We'll need autopsies to be sure," said Harry.

"Harry, I'm frightened," said Goldie. "That other me... in that drawer... they remade me, and then they killed me."

"It wasn't you," said Harry. "It was another you."

"But why?"

"It's all too clear now," said Harry.

She hit his arm. "Well, tell the rest of us, who aren't geniuses, Harry!"

"What do mind control and clones add up to?" Harry looked at Goldie. "An army, Goldie. They're planning to take over the world. They fast grow clones of the most promising people, and then brainwash them to suit their purposes."

"But an army, Harry? You're no soldier. And I'm certainly not."

"An army needs more than just soldiers," said Harry. "These are just the ones we found. Who knows how many more Harry's or Goldie's there are running around, out there."

"Well, if there are any more Goldie's, they can't have you. You're taken," said Goldie. She turned her head to face him, giving him the signal. He responded obediently, kissing her.

"Ummm," said Goldie, her eyes closed.​