Fantasy Making of a Starship Captain

"I'm a little concerned."

Ambition wondered when the being who identified himself as "Galactic Hope" would pay him another visit. It had been some years since Galactic Hope had visited him when Mike was a child, to inform him that Mike had a great destiny, one which required him to join the Survey Service. At the time Ambition had been skeptical that Mike could ever make it to the Academy, and yet... here he was.

And now Galactic Hope, whatever Galactic Hope was, was back for another visit.

"About what?" Ambition asked. He wondered how Galactic Hope could even be communicating with him. Normally, Ambition could only communicate with other segments of Taylor's mind, or other Ambitions on the Ambition plane of existence.

"There are physical requirements that must be met soon. Throwing a large man. Performing a hundred pushups. We are concerned that Mike will not make it."

"He'll make it," said Ambition.

"We are not as sure as you are. We know it is your purpose to be optimistic; our purpose is different. We were made be realistic."

"It seems our roles have reversed, haven't they?" Ambition said. "When we first met, you assured me that Mike would be a great Survey Service Captain some day, and I was the doubtful one. But now you are."

"Thus far he has only accomplished seventy one pushups. He needs to do a hundred in two days."

"He will make it. He will make it, because he has to," said Ambition. "I've gotten to know this boy real, real well. He's certainly not without flaws. But when it comes to Ambition to make it in the Survey Service, he's got nothing lacking."

"77!"

"Arrrrggh!" Taylor cried. His face was a mask of pain.

"78!"

"Aaaaaah!" Taylor cried.

"79!"

It was too much. Taylor collapsed into the ground.

"Is that it? Are you done, Moon Hero?" Sergeant Chappie snapped.

"Get up, Michael! Keep going!" Cherry shouted. Other cadets watched in a circle around him.

Michael strained to lift himself up by his arms again. But he couldn't. He sank down into the mud.

"He's finished," said Sergeant Chappie. "Here boy, let me help you." He helped Taylor into a sitting position. And then he held out his Pad, right by Taylor's thumb. "Just press right here, boy."

"No!" said Taylor, pulling his hand away.

"Why not? You're clearly not going to be able to do a hundred! Even skinny girls like Astor and Oteri can do a hundred! Face it son, you're just not Survey Service material. Now come on, just press your thumb here," said Chappie. His tone was soft; he was almost kind.

"No!" Taylor cried.

Chappie's expression darkened. "All right, Moon Hero. We'll play it your way. Get up, and give me some laps around the perimeter."

Taylor got up on shaky legs. "How... how many?"

"Infinity," said Chappie, his eyes wide.

Taylor stood there, blinking. He had just been sentenced to the treadmill of death.

"You heard me, boy, get going!"

Taylor started off at a run. He didn't know which was worse, being sentenced to the treadmill of death, knowing he was about to be drummed out of the Survey Service... or having his fate announced in front of all the other cadets. He thought he heard Cherry cry out as he ran for the perimeter line.

It was in the late afternoon when Taylor had been called to perform his final pushup challenge. He had prepared as best he could, but he knew he could not do a hundred pushups. As he started to run around the perimeter, the sun set and it became progressively darker. The only light was from the barracks and landing field lights.

And then it started to rain. It didn't just rain, but it poured. In moments, Mike was soaking wet.

Why did he keep going? It was obvious that Chappie was going to have him keep doing this until he dropped. One way or another, he would be drummed out of the Service.

But he couldn't give up. He refused to give up.

And then, a few hours later, drenched to the bone, he saw a man with an umbrella approaching him. It was Sergeant Chappie, wearing bright yellow rain slickers.

"Do you like the yellow?" was the first thing Sergeant Chappie said to him. "I got it in China."

Taylor didn't answer immediately. He kept jogging. Then he said, "Sergeant, may I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

"Why do you hate the Chinese so much?"

Chappie looked at him intensely, and Taylor wondered if he had crossed the line.

"Hate the Chinese? Hate the Chinese?" And then Chappie did the most unexpected thing. He laughed! He laughed and laughed and laughed. Then he turned to Taylor. "Ah, thank you for that, Cadet." He paused, and collected his wits. "If you really must know, I was put up for adoption before I was born. Some fine black man and black woman fucked up a storm without thinking of the consequences, and then decided in advance that they didn't want the pleasure of my fine company. I was adopted by-"

"A Chinese couple!" said Taylor.

"That's right. I owed them my life," said Chappie. "When I was a kid, I wished I were Chinese like them."

"So all your jokes about Chinese... their slanty eyes, their tiny penises... you actually admire them!"

"Don't tell anyone," said Chappie. "Not that you'll get the chance." He visibly switched gears. "Are you ready to give me your RFD, son?"

"No Sergeant!" said Taylor.

"That's not what my Chinese ears like to hear," said Chappie. "I have all the goods on you, Taylor."

"Sir?"

Chappie glared at him. "What?"

"I mean, Sergeant."

"That's better." Chappie paused. "Yes, I know all about you now. I know all about you and that sex video of yourself you put online."

"Sergeant! I didn't do that!" As he ran, Taylor was buffeted by the rain, and now, he felt, something else.

"That's not what Cadet Harshbarger is telling everyone."

"She did it, Sergeant! She was the one!"

"Now why should anyone believe a pervert like you over an outstanding cadet like Allyson Harshbarger?"

"Pervert?" said Taylor, his heart thumping in his chest.

"I know," said Chappie quietly. "We all know. About Sister Audra."

"Oh my God!" Taylor cried. "How did you-"

"We're the Survey Service. Of course we knew," said Chappie. "Did you really think we failed to do a simple background check on you before you were admitted?"

"But I was admitted sir!"

"Yes, but that was before we learned how really damaged you were by the incident," said Chappie. "You let yourself be tingled by an older woman, Cadet. Over and over and over. Some would say that you participated freely."

"No Sergeant!"

"Some would say that you liked it!"

The wind and the rain was whipping in Taylor's face. "Not true, Sergeant!"

"Some would say that all your problems with women stem from this perversion, this deeply rooted perversion within you." Chappie stretched out the word 'perversion' for emphasis. "That's why you can't have a normal relationship with a girl. You can only be turned on when you're being dominated by an older woman. We both know what we're talking about, don't we, cadet?"

"No Sergeant!"

"I think you know full well what I'm talking about. So you're out. You're never going to make it. I'll make sure of that. Why not just give up, now?"

And then, in the pouring rain, Sergeant Chappie held up a Pad in front of Taylor's face. For a moment, he covered Taylor with his umbrella.

Taylor stopped jogging, and looked at the Pad wordlessly for a moment.

"It's over, Mike. It's time to go home," said Inadequacy.

"Don't give up. Never give up. Fight until the very end. It's the Survey Service way!" said Ambition.

The Survey Service way.

"No Sergeant, I won't sign!" He started jogging again.

"Fine!" Chappie yelled after him. "Then you can just keep running until the year one billion!"

It was some time later in the night. Taylor's energy was flagging. He knew if he stopped, and Chappie saw him, he was out. But he was too tired to care. The rain had stopped, and it was the dead of night. He fell to the ground, and fell asleep immediately, and the world moved at its own pace around him, while he stood absolutely still.

The sound of a polite cough.

Taylor jerked into awareness. Suddenly he remembered where he was and who he was and what he was doing. He felt a light rain. His body stiffened.

Sergeant Chappie had found him, asleep.

But when he looked up, he didn't see the Sergeant.

He saw Hal.

"Hal?" said Taylor uncertainly.

"It's good to see you again, Mike. Though I must say the circumstances could be better."

"Hal, what are you doing here? I went back to Robolawya to see you, but you were gone," said Taylor.

"Yes, I took a leave of absence to pursue my two greatest passions: landscape painting and goat herding."

Taylor looked up at Hal with bloodshot eyes. "Hal, it's raining, and you're not getting wet."

"Yes, I seemed to have stepped on a dry spot," said Hal. "But I'm not here to talk about me. I'm here to talk about you. Do you want to stay in the Survey Service?"

Taylor gave a dry laugh. "Of course, Hal."

"Then do the hundred pushups."

"Hal, I can't!"

"Do them now!"

Taylor laughed again. "What's the point? Even if I do them, there's no one here to see me doing them."

"Yes there is," said Hal. "If you want to stay in the Service, get started."

Taylor assumed the pushup position. He was physically exhausted.

And yet... it was his legs that were most tired. He hadn't used his arms in hours, since his last pushup attempt. He started to do the first pushup, when Hal stopped him.

"Don't try," said Hal.

"What?"

"Do, or don't do. But don't try," said Hal.

Taylor nodded. He started doing pushups. "One," he said.

"And don't count," said Hal.

"Don't count?" said Taylor, doing a second pushup.

"I'll keep track for you," Hal smiled.

For the next few agonizing minutes, Hal distracted Taylor. He talked about Taylor's past. How hard Taylor had worked to get into the Academy. How he had taken the most difficult courses at Malik Shabazz, and struggled with his subjects. How he had gotten top scores on the Survey Service exam. How he had impressed his interviewer. How he had saved everyone's lives on the Moon.

Mike kept doing pushups.

Hal talked about Taylor's progress at the Academy. He seemed remarkably well informed about Taylor's achievements in academics.

Mike kept doing repetitions. His arms were aching.

Hal then moved on to talk about Taylor's future. How he would become a great Survey Service Captain. A legend even among the greatest Captains of them all. How he would one day save the entire galaxy from being wiped out.

"What?" said Taylor, pausing on an up thrust.

"Don't stop!" said Hal. Taylor went on and on, even as his arm muscles were trembling with incipient failure. But Hal cleverly kept him distracted, up until the very moment that Taylor's arms collapsed.

"I can't!" Taylor wailed, in great pain. "I can't continue!" He looked up at Hal. Hal was smiling down at him. "What?" said Taylor.

"There is no need to," said Hal. "You've done it, my boy."

"What?"

"Look," said Hal, pointing.

Mike looked where Hal was pointing. He saw the rising sun, the shades of yellow and pink and orange painting the landscape. He turned back to Hal.

But Hal was gone.

Taylor walked back to the barracks, feeling completely sore over all his body. He was startled when he almost bumped into Sergeant Chappie.

"Sergeant!" Suddenly he remembered. He was supposed to be running on the perimeter. "I... I...."

Sergeant Chappie held up his right hand. They held field glasses. "That was only 99 pushups, Moon Hero," he said. He stared at Taylor for a moment, watching him flounder like a fish out of water, gasping for breath, his mouth opening and closing. Then Chappie said, "But I do believe I got some rain in my eyes. My small Chinese eyes don't see as well as yours do. So maybe we'll just call it a hundred... and make it a day."

Taylor couldn't have looked more astonished than if Sergeant Chappie's chest had split open and an alien creature jumped out of it.

"You'd better get inside and shower. Reveille is in thirty minutes," said Chappie.

Taylor saluted him. "Yes, Sergeant. Thank you Sergeant!"

"Don't you be thanking me, boy!"

"Yes Sergeant! No thanks to you!" Taylor cried. He ran inside.

Everyone thought Taylor had washed out.

There were astonished stares at breakfast, and a clatter as Cherry Oteri's food tray went clattering to the floor.

"Mike!" she yelled, running over and hugging him, in front of everyone. "You're here! How?"

"I made it, Cherry. I did it," said Mike, his voice raw.

Cherry squealed and kissed him on the cheek and hugged him tightly, and everyone came over to offer their congratulations.

The two identical twins, Ming Wa Ching and Ming Wa Chang, were the next to go. They didn't RFD, however; they were dropped from the program.

All of a sudden, they were simply... gone. They didn't even have the chance to say goodbye.

Sergeant Chappie explained it to them at six o'clock the following morning.

"Some of you may noticed that we have a little less yellow in the ranks today," said Chappie, marching up and down the line, tapping his walking stick. "That's because my good friends PING and PONG are gone. Does anyone know what became of them?"

No one responded.

"It turns out that my yellow brothas from different mothas Ping and Pong thought they were SMARTER than the system. Ping took half the classroom courses, and Pong took the other half. When it came time to take the exams, Ping took all the exams for both of them in the subjects he had studied, and Pong did the same. They had an advantage in that each only had to study half as much as you pale skinned freaks," said Chappie. "But they weren't able to outwit the Survey Service. Even my slanty little Chinese eyes could tell the two of them apart." He paused, banging his walking stick into the ground. "I will miss one of them, though. Pong, I think. Ping, though, Ping, I really hated."

"But Sarge!"

Chappie's eyebrows raised, at the audacity of someone speaking out. But this morning he felt in a generous mood. "What is it... Maslarov?"

"Yes, Sergeant. You say you liked Pong, but you hated Ping. And yet, Ping was identical to Pong in nearly every way."

"Of course! And that is exactly why I hated Ping. Because he was identical to Pong in every way!" He smiled as he saw the confused stares and turned heads. "And now everyone, are we ready for our first laps of the day?"

The cadets all were sitting on the ground, in a lotus position, with their eyes closed. Master Tan was walking among them with light footsteps, speaking softly.

"Think about harnessing the energies of the universe."

Taylor sat in a cross legged position, his eyes closed, as he imagined making love to Sarah. Lately, it was all he could think about. He had made love to her two more times, and each time was more exciting than the last. Sarah showered him with praise, and said he was well on his way to becoming the best lover in all the Survey Service. The thought pleased him inordinately.

"Think of living in the moment."

Taylor thought about living in the moment, in the moment he climaxed inside of Sarah's vagina. She was right--the thought of impregnating her made it all more exciting. Even afterwards, when he knew he couldn't get her pregnant, he found he could fool himself into believing he could, and it made sex with her all the spicier.

"Think of making yourself impervious to external stimuli."

Taylor thought of the exact opposite of that. He thought of Sarah's slick inner walls, rubbing the head of his organ so expertly. And then, when Sarah climaxed, he remembered how she clamped down on the head of his organ like a vise, making the friction so intense that he erupted furiously within her.

"Think of the exploding power within you."

Taylor smiled, even while his eyes were closed. That was certainly easy enough. As his grin grew wider and wider, he felt another part of him growing harder and harder.

Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He opened his eyes, to see the disappointed face of Master Tan staring down at him. Was he... was it visible, through his pants? Taylor was afraid to look down.

He looked at Master Tan instead. The Master shook his head. "No," he said. "Not that kind of exploding power."

Taylor blushed.

Taylor was thrown across the room. He landed on the padded floor.

He felt humiliated. Black Bart had thrown him again.

And yet, somehow, Cherry Oteri and Andrea Farber had managed to throw Black Bart! These girls, who were much more petite than him, had managed to throw a guy twice their size. He heard them talking about it.

"And I just... released," said Cherry. "I did exactly what Master Tan said. I felt the power within me."

"I don't know if I would describe it in precisely the same way," said Andrea. "But I felt myself tapping into something... something greater inside me."

Taylor saw a shadow looming over him. He looked up to see Sergeant Chappie, impatiently tapping his walking stick. "That's five tries you've had, Taylor. Only one more to go. Would you like to save us a lot of trouble and give me your RFD now?"

"No, Sergeant. I'll do it," said Taylor.

"Hopefully you'll find a dryer way to do it this time," said Chappie, turning away.

"They're talking about you!" Cherry whispered, as they walked down a hallway.

"Who are they?" Taylor asked.

"Everyone," said Cherry.

"What about me?" Taylor asked.

"About you... and her." Cherry gave him a sidewards glance.

Taylor shuddered, and felt anxiety pangs in his stomach. "What are they saying?"

"That you and her...." Her voice trailed off. She couldn't complete the sentence. It hurt too much. She looked up at Taylor. "I don't understand, Mike. You're a handsome guy. You could have any girl here you want." Cherry had said any girl, but they both knew exactly who she meant. "Why would you shack up with her, and risk getting kicked out of the Academy?"

Taylor didn't know what to say. He felt tongue tied for a moment. He looked in her eyes, and saw the pain. The pain he had caused her.

"I... There's nothing going on between us. Nothing," said Taylor.

Cherry looked at him for a long moment. Then she squeezed his hand. "Be careful, Mike."

Taylor thought about it. He felt like people were staring at him once again. Was he imagining it? Who could possibly be spreading rumors about him? Allyson Harshbarger was an obvious suspect. But Allyson didn't know about him and Sarah. The only ones who knew were him... and Sarah. And Sarah certainly wouldn't tell anyone.

And yet, it was the Survey Service he was up against. The Survey Service wasn't omniscient, but somehow it seemed to know more than Taylor gave it credit for.

"You have to give her up! You're going to get us kicked out of the Survey Service!" said Be Careful.

"This is the best sex we've ever had in our lives," said Lust.

"This is basically the only sex we've ever had in our lives," said Be Careful. "She's twenty years older than us. We can do better."

"But there's something... just so sensual about her. I can't just give her up," said Lust.

"Yeah, you can."

"All right," said Lust. "We'll give her up. But at the very least, we owe her a face to face goodbye, right?"

".... All right," said Be Cautious, grudgingly.

Sarah met him at the door with a revealing dress and a smile. "Hey you," she said, kissing him as he stepped through the doorway.

"Hey you," Taylor replied, kissing her back. He looked at her. She was wearing a sheer dress he had never seen before, without a bra or panties. Her large round melons and her dark pubic triangle were clearly visible. "I've never seen you wear that before."

She twirled around in it, giving him a sexy smile. "I've never had anyone to wear it for."

No one but me?

Taylor rapidly felt his resolve disappearing. "Sarah, I..."

"What's wrong, Michael? Tell me. You can tell me anything." Her eyes sparkled. "Come, sit on the couch, we'll talk."

The couch was the last place Mike wanted to sit but he found himself being led by the hand.

"Now, you tell Mama Sarah what's troubling you and I will make it all better," she said, smiling at him as she gently patted his hand and raped him with her eyes benevolently.

"I... I...."

"Yes, you, you," said Sarah, smiling at him in that sexy and mocking way.

"People have been talking," said Taylor slowly. "About us, Sarah."

Sarah blinked slowly. "Is that all?"

"Is that all? Sarah, you could be court martialed. I could be dropped from the Academy."

Sarah sighed and leaned backwards, causing her breasts to thrust forward. "This always happens. It did with the others."

"Others?"

"Every time I take a student to tutor, people talk. Unlike most of the instructors, I'm an attractive woman in the prime of my sexual life," said Sarah, and the way she said it made Taylor excited. "But it's just talk, don't you see? People see you going to my quarters to be tutored, and they make up the rest. How can they know any more? Have you told anyone, Michael?"

"No!" his reaction was swift and immediate

"And I haven't," she said, putting a dainty hand on her chest. "So who, then, is to provide them with evidence?"

Taylor considered for a moment. "But... if there are rumors...."

She smiled as she grabbed him and kissed him. "They may see the smoke, Michael, but never the fire. My fire is only for you."

Her words excited him terribly, as did her kiss.

But one thing still bothered Taylor. "You said... there were others. Others... like me?"

Sarah pulled back, but only for a moment. "Not like you, Michael. No one ever like you." And then Taylor felt better and she pressed her body against his, and soon they eagerly performing the ritual of reproduction once again.​