Tales of the eKids Chapter 01
Introduction:
Book 2 of Death by Fucking
Authorâs note:
This is a sequel to my story, âDeath by Fuckingâ. Your understanding of this story would be enhanced by referring to that earlier book.
Joe Jâs epic Twice Lucky is the source of several of the characters used in this story. Joe has been gracious enough to allow me to make use of the Turner family. For those of you unfamiliar with Twice Lucky and Twice Lucky II I suggest you read them both. Even if you never come back to this story, it will be well worth your while.
Chapter 1
Prologue
We who are the shared memory of the Adkins clan do begin this chronicle of the birth of the New Men. Our thoughts return to the beginning of our race, when the sharing was in its infancy. And before, to the Progenitor â he who it was that gave us life but was not one of us.
By this means, we, the Star Travelers, shall ensure our knowledge of the birthing of our race. For without such knowledge we would be but like the Homo sapiens that preceded us, hopelessly longing to learn our true beginnings. Without its path to the past, how can a race understand its path to the future?
Beginnings must be carefully considered. I, Lena Adkins of the L-Generation of Star Travelers shall channel that Emma Adkins by whose stewardship did the infant race New Man emerge as the dominant species on planet Earth and by extension the known universe.
Our links into a significant number of the first generation of New Man through the Andrew Adkins genetic connection augment our quest. The Adkins clan remains the largest family of New Men, and through its sharing does the growth of the race continue apace.
I, Lena, will transfer the memories, parables, and stories gained through our channeling to permanent non-destructive storage so that the formative period of our race shall be available for study and contemplation to all that come after us. Thus will the history of the Adkins clan be spread throughout the galaxy, a tie that binds our race across the vastness of Space.
There, I think that sounds portentous enough to please even the stultifying assholes running this memory group. The more I reach back to Emma Adkins, the more I realize that a major component of New Man that differentiated it from the Old Man that came before us was our capacity for fun. Emma was the first of us to love life to its fullest. Itâs that capacity that I, Lena, wish to capture; thus re-energizing our race with laughter. We are becoming a stodgy bunch.
This I shall hold in my private memory cells. Shared knowledge of my plan may well cause the shutdown of the entire project. I do know that Emma Adkins will be a serious shock to our system. Itâs a system that needs serious shocking.
Part 1
Eamon Turner turned south off of the interstate heading towards New Man University. He wasnât sure how much farther he had to travel but felt certain he was close. In the back of his mind he heard himself saying, âmap quest it, you shitâ. But his grandmother had insisted that he map quest the trip onto his onboard computer and that was reason enough for him not to do so. He is a man and he donât need no stinkinâ maps.
The eighteen year-old gunned his car down the highway. He rapidly approached a small energy-efficient vehicle that was poking along at only a few miles per hour above the speed limit. Eamon slipped past the pathetic little car, gaining speed as he went. Suddenly he saw a virtual sign that seemed to appear from nowhere; âNew Man University â Next Rightâ. He swerved his car back into the right hand lane, slamming on his brakes as he watched for the quickly approaching turnoff.
Eamon noted that his heads-up display showed his speed dropping from 75 to 30 in just a few seconds. His mph continued to drop as he spotted the road and turned on to it. Eamon was shocked to see the words âYOU FUCKING IDIOT!!â march across his windshield.
Fifteen minutes later Eamon was parked and riding the walkway underground to the University proper. He had noted with interest that New Man U. didnât seem to leave any footprint at all on the land, other than the access road. That road gently sank into the ground beneath what appears to be miles of meadows, farmland, and trees.
The walkway carried him farther underground before emerging onto a large quadrangle. He had expected a claustrophobic experience, but instead of a metal roof he looked up to see the sky. Some lazy clouds were floating by. The sun was peaking out from one of them, slowly sinking into the westward horizon.
Many people, most of whom appeared younger than him, were slowly walking towards their intended destinations. They were dressed like students everywhere: sweatshirts, jeans, sneakers.
Eamonâs eye was captured by the quick passing of something completely different. It was a girl. She was wearing tan slacks that lovingly hugged her curved behind. On top she wore some sort of suede vest over a button-down white shirt. She was very small but her curves certainly indicated that she was not necessarily very young. Topping this apparition was a floppy felt hat from which golden curls were barely peaking.
Eamon knew he should continue with his business, but being a Turner knew that one shouldnât hesitate to combine business with pleasure. He hurried to catch up to this person, hoping that the front half was as alluring as the rear.
When he was close enough he reached out and touched the figureâs shoulder. âExcuse me, Miss. Can you direct me to the Admissions Office?â
She stopped. She turned on a dime. Eamon found himself looking down at an angel; blue-green eyes, blonde hair framing a perfect face. Eamon thought, âOh, yeah! Life will be good at New Man U.â
The girl said to him, âHoney if you canât find the Admissions Office by yourself youâre at the wrong school.â
Eamon was a bit taken aback. Her melodious voice and sparkling eyes belied her insult. He tried firing back. âBut Iâm a man! My Grandmother Muffy thinks that a man needs to be lead around by his nose. If you grab my nose Iâll follow you anywhere, maybe even to the Admissions Office.â
The girl looked at him critically. âYou have a grandmother named Muffy? Whatâs your grandfatherâs name, Muff Diver? Him Iâd like to meet.â
Eamon shook his head. âThis is one weird place. I sure have gotten the royal reception. First your sign appeared from nowhere. Then, just as I turned on to your access road my car called me a fucking idiot. And now you are giving me a hard time.â
The girlâs eyes half closed and her smile widened. Eamon felt his heart skip a beat as he saw a light come on in her eyes. âWhat a fox!â he thought.
She said, âI did that.â
He was confused. âYou called me a fucking idiot?â
She shook her head. âNo, my Daddy called you a fucking idiot.â
âBut I donât even know your Daddy. Why would he call me a fucking idiot?â
She said, âOh, Iâm sure when he gets to know you heâll call you a fucking idiot with very little prodding. Did you pass anybody on the road as you pulled into the school?â
He nodded. âYeah, I passed some old geezer in one of those shitty little no-gas cars. Okay, maybe I made him hit his brakes a little. Whatâs the big deal?â
She looked smug. âThat was my Daddy. Not a very auspicious start, young man.â
Eamon was thoroughly confused. âHow do you know I saw someone on the highway? Where did the sign come from? Why did my car call me a fucking idiot? Why did you say that you did it? Then why did you say your father did it? And who is your father, anyway?â
The girl put a hand on her hip and twisted slightly, pushing her very shapely ass off to one side. She used her other hand to count.
âOne: if you hadnât seen someone on the highway then; Two: your car wouldnât have called you a fucking idiot. Three: I didnât mean that I called you a fucking idiot. I just facilitated it. Four: my father called you a fucking idiot because he is the old geezer who was in the other car when you drove past him like a fool. Daddy believes there isnât such a thing as road rage. Itâs just that the person in front of him is driving like A MANIAC! And Five: my father is Andrew Adkins. Oh, and six: some of the kids have been playing with fiber optics applications. The sign can only be seen from a particular range of angles from the road. From every other angle it is invisible. Of course, if you are speeding, you might miss it.â
Eamon shook his head. âOh great; Iâve been here ten minutes and Iâve already pissed off the Progenitor. Hey, wait a minute. How did YOU facilitate it? That doesnât make any sense.â
The girl smiled again. âIt was my Christmas present to Daddy about eight years ago.â
Again Eamon was lost. âMy being a fucking idiot was your present to your daddy? Talk to me.â
The girl talked like she was educating some backward little boy. âHave you actually been admitted to New Man U.? Itâs the heads-up display, of course. The car companies had been working on them for a while, but my sisters perfected the model currently used by every car on the road built since 2014. They were eleven at the time. Of course whenever they develop anything, I tell them what they can do to make it better.â
Eamon found himself sputtering like a schoolboy. âWhatâs that got to do with your father calling me an idiot?â
The girl said, âI gave him a black box that fits onto his armrest. When he presses the button, any car within five car-lengths has âYou Fucking Idiot!!â displayed on their windshield. Or he can point the switch in a single direction to isolate one car.â
Eamon could hardly believe his ears. âYou mean every car in the world has this feature built into it?â
The girl shrugged. âSure, why not? Daddy might be in Hawaii or Florida or Switzerland or somewhere. There are fucking idiots everywhere, after all. Especially Florida.â
Eamon felt he had fallen through a rabbit hole. He decided to let the âfucking idiotâ event die. He offered his hand instead. âEamon Turner, from Florida.â, he said.
The girl delicately fitted her soft, tiny hand into his large paw. âAnd Iâm Emmy Adkins. Iâm very pleased to meet another fucking idiot.â The more she kidded him, the more Eamon was attracted to her. He was used to girls falling all over him. She wasnât playing hard to get. She wasnât playing at all.
The girl turned away. Looking over her shoulder she called to him. âIf you want to find the Admissions Department, follow me E-man.â
âThatâs Eamon!â he replied angrily.
Eamon stood still, just watching her walk. Finally he hurried after her, his eyes never leaving that small, round, lovely ass. Under his breath he muttered, âFollow the bouncing butt.â
Part 2
Eamon found himself walking into a corridor off of the main quad. The girl palmed the lock of a door and it opened. To his chagrin, Eamon saw the name seemingly engraved on the doorâs plasma panel: âEmma Adkins, Dean of Students and Director of Admissionsâ. Suddenly the panel changed to add the phrase: âFucking Idiots Welcomeâ.
The girl walked behind a rather plain desk and settled herself into the figure-molding chair. She looked him in the eyes. âSo, E-man, what can I do for you?â
Eamon couldnât decide whether to be angry, embarrassed, or amused. âI suppose you are the person Iâm to report to this morning. Sorry, I thought you were a student.â
âThatâs the first thing you got right today! Apology accepted.â Her fingers flicked across the touch screen embedded in her desk. âLetâs see; Eamon Turner, Palmdale, Florida. Eighteen years old, undocumented alleged New Man. Desires admission into New Man U. based upon acceptance of said documentation. Also passes H. sapien muster with IQ exceeding 200. Well, gee, E-man, you could have fooled me.â
Eamon felt himself growing angry. This girlâs flippant attitude was starting to piss him off. He said, âWhat about you? How many other undocumented guys were you expecting today? You should have known who I was from the beginning.â
She fixed her blue-green gaze upon him, a half-smile on her perfect lips, and Eamonâs anger seemed to dissipate into nothingness. âJust kidding, E-man. Donât get your panties in a wad. Of course I knew who you were. I also knew that you could find the admissions office by yourself. I just assumed you were hitting on me. You are a Turner, arenât you? I am a girl, arenât I? I can add two plus two.â
Eamon decided it would be best to just get down to business. This Emma didnât fit any of his known patterns of female behavior. She was intriguing. She was disturbing.
âUh, you understand that Iâm not officially a New Man? How are we supposed to handle this whole thing? Will I need to take a test? Do I pay tuition?â
The girl held up her hand. âHold on, E-man. You are a special case. Let me call my father and bring him in on it. I make the decisions,â â he noted the sly smile on her lips â âbut Iâd like his input on something like this.â
Just then the door opened and there stood the Progenitor. He walked behind the desk and stood beside his daughter.
Emma said, âOh, hi Daddy. Funny coincidence, you being here.â
Andrew Adkins said, âWhat do you mean coincidence? You asked me to come.â
Eamon looked at Emma in confusion. She grinned as shy a grin as she was capable of. âWell, I guess I did let him know you were here as soon as you accosted me in the quad.â
Andrew said, âOh, I suppose you were the, uh, person who cut me off coming into the parking area.â
Eamon nodded glumly. âYes, Iâm that fucking idiot.â
Andrew smiled happily. He leaned over and gave his daughter a kiss on the check. âThank you, Emmy. Thatâs one of my favorite presents.â He returned to a more serious demeanor. âSo, you are the âundocumented New Manâ. Tell us about yourself.â
âMy father is Jake Turner, Jr. Itâs obvious your daughter knows a little about my family history. Twenty years ago my dad got involved with a couple of girls named Davan and Dina Murphy. They kind of got involved with the family business and they kind of live with him.â
Emmaâs glance told him he was being oblique. âHow do they âkind ofâ live with him? Youâre saying that this is a non-traditional relationship. No marriage is involved?â
âWell, my dad already had a wife. My family is a little loose about inviting women into the group; especially beautiful women.â
Andrew gazed off into the distance (there was a view of a forest scene on the plasma panel on the wall). âSo you are saying that Davan and Dina are IAM twins. We donât have them on file, but if you saw the filing system we inherited from Doris Johns when we took over here, you wouldnât be surprised if some people fell through the cracks.
âThis opens up an entirely new line of questions. How many other undocumented IAM twins are floating around? And have any of them given birth to New Man? Sorry but we have yet to establish that you are New Man. Given your parentage you might be a legitimate H. sapien genius. Well, I guess there is one way to find out.â
Eamon said. âYes, I know about that. Iâll have to mate with one of the New Man girls. If something pops out after nine months, Iâm good.â
Andrew didnât think much of the idea. âHey, kid, I know sheâs gorgeous, but sheâs my daughter. If you want to proposition her, kindly do it behind my back. I was thinking more along the lines of a DNA test.â
Emma jumped in at this point. âLook, E-man, why donât you go to the office next door. The lady there is Daphne. Tell her I want her to start the entry process. Iâll be over in a few minutes and we can continue this charming interview. Go out the door, make a left and go into the first office you see.â
After Eamon had left, Emma turned to her father. âDaddy, you know perfectly well there are plenty of ways for us to determine if he is New Man. All Iâve got to do is eavesdrop into him, telempathically speaking.â
âYes, yes, I know. But if you do it, be careful. When you were young, you eKids were probing everybody with your minds. I felt it, but most others didnât. If he isnât New Man heâs close. He may know something is going on, even if he isnât truly telempathic. If you donât mind, Iâd like to continue to keep that little secret under out hats, especially with this kid. His family could hurt us.â
âWhatâs up, Pop? Do you think he might have an ulterior motive for coming here?â
âDonât you? Whatâs he doing, announcing his existence after eighteen years? We may have a spy in our midst.â
Emma smiled. âDaddy, you used to be such a trusting soul. If heâs a spy, itâs for his family not for the government, Iâll bet. Maybe they want to check us out, had you thought of that?â
Andrew nodded. âI like to go through the front door. If they want to know about us, why donât they ask us? We donât hide much, just the telempathy thing. Are they looking for an ally or are they thinking we are the enemy? Get close to this kid, close enough to figure out when he speaks the truth.â
Emma looked as serious as she ever did. âDaddy, thereâs something else we have to talk about. I know this makes you uncomfortable, but letâs be frank. Iâm not getting any younger, you know. Iâm an adult. Even you have to agree with that! I have needs. So do my sisters.â
Andrew looked uncomfortable. âOkay, okay, you have needs. What am I supposed to do about it?â
Emma gave him a very sexy smile. âOh, Daddy, I think you know exactly what you could do about it if you would only relax. Come on, Daddy, please! Iâll be very good and Iâll stop complaining. What do you say, huh?â
Andrew was frustrated. âEmmy, weâve been through this before. Youâre my little girl. Would you please get this bee out of your bonnet?â
âOkay, so youâre turning me down again. Where does that leave me, huh? Daddy, you know that Edie and Eddie are pretty much self-sufficient. I mean that in all ways, if you catch my drift.â
Andrew grimaced. âGeez, Emmy; do we have to talk about this?â
âYes, Daddy, we do. Edie and Eddie donât really need a man. But Elle and I do. And we are the oldest. Weâre too old for every boy in this college, at least until today.â
âOh, so thatâs what this is about! You see this Eamon Turner character as someone who can scratch your itch. You thought by propositioning me again you would make this kid look like a great alternative! Iâm not as dumb as you think I am, you know.â
âSure you are, Daddy. But I love you anyway. Daddy, Iâm serious. It is going to be years until the oldest other boys here are mature enough for Elle and me. And I donât want to appear prejudiced, but itâs unlikely Iâll find any H. sapien men that will interest me. This Eamon is it.â
âSweetheart, I know that from your point of view, this Eamon Turner is the only fish in the sea. But from his point of view youâre just another pretty girl. Be careful. And just because you are horny doesnât mean you should be easy.â
âDaddy, Iâm not going to be easy! But Iâm also not going to be impossible!â
âWell you do what you must, Emmy. But please leave me out of the loop! I donât want to know! But tell me when you find out about his political intensions. If he is a spy, maybe we can âflipâ him, if you know what I mean.â
âThen Iâll just have to be a little Mata Hari! Iâll seduce him, then Iâll make him talk!â
âEmmy, please! Iâve never questioned your methods before and I wonât start now. But donât tell me how you come to find out things. That will just make me an accessory after the fact. And it will also make me miserable.â
âOh, Daddy, you do love me! Youâre jealous!â
Andrew put his arms around his daughter. âOf course I love you; but not âthat wayâ. Youâre my little girl and I want to protect you from those predatory men out there who want to do the same things to you that I would have wanted to do to you if I were eighteen. Believe me, I know what this Eamon is thinking, and it isnât pretty.â
Part 3
Eamon Turner lay on his bed thinking about this remarkable day. He felt like his life was turning upside down. His emotions were torn between loyalty to his family and wonder at his new surroundings.
The Turner family had become one of the most powerful political forces in the country over the past fifty years. The irresistible combination of his Grandmotherâs business prowess and his Grandfatherâs penchant for success in every endeavor he attempted had created an empire. His father, Jake Jr., was if anything more talented that his parents, plus he had their financial resources and political connections to draw upon.
The Turners stood at the top of the heap in America much like the Rockefeller or Kennedy families of an earlier age. Like those earlier families, the Turners combined vast wealth with noblesse oblige: that call to service that drives a few of those born to privilege. To them, with great wealth comes great responsibility; a responsibility the Turners accepted gladly.
They were the most powerful family in the nation. But standing off to the side, almost by itself, was this entity known as âNew Manâ.
Here was a group of children who claimed to be a different species from Homo sapiens. The majority of them lived together at New Man University, a place that was becoming legendary for the scientific advances that seemed to sprout like flowers from its garden.
And there was the Adkins family, who apparently controlled all that went on with New Man. What was their motivation? Were they dangerously power-crazed or unbelievably benevolent? Deirdre Adkins was president of New Man Incorporated, the most innovative hardware/software company in the world. Donna Adkins was president of New Man University itself. The Progenitor, Andrew Adkins, didnât appear to do much of anything.
Eamonâs grandmother, Melissa Turner, had ordered a thorough investigation of the Adkinsâ finances. The results were most puzzling. The Adkins family had nothing. Both wives received minimal salaries for their positions. The family owned the IAM Foundation plantation, for which they had paid one dollar. They got the same health and retirement benefits made available to all employees of the Corporation and the University. But their net worth was a pittance.
Were they hiding money in the corporation? Further investigation showed that New Man Incorporated was a non-profit organization. It gave away most of what it made and plowed the rest into research and development. It looked like many of the best inventions at the university found their way into the corporation product lines, but that all seemed legal and above-board.
Thatâs why Eamon had been sent to New Man U. He was to worm his way into the New Man domain and figure out what really went on.
He lay in bed trying to understand what he had witnessed today. The Progenitor didnât act like he controlled anything, even his own daughter. He was more like middle management called in for consultation.
But the Progenitorâs daughter: here was the most beautiful and exciting thing Eamon had ever seen. Her alluring body, her lovely face, even her playful insults seemed to beckon to him. He felt drawn to her in an almost spiritual way. She frightened him almost as much as she excited him. Hers was a siren-song that could ruin him – or complete him? Damn, but he sure wanted to find out which.
And the physical plant of New Man U. itself was incredible. That ceiling! It looked like there was no ceiling at all, and yet Eamon knew that he was at least sixty feet underground. Was it a monster plasma panel? Was it fiber optics? What the hell was it? And he had even felt a breeze blowing. Even though they were underground, the sensation that they were outside was complete.
Eamon hadnât noticed Emma Adkins doing anything other than walking and talking. And yet she had summoned her father and even changed the lettering on her door. She must carry her own on-board computer. Where is it? How does she control it?
Eamon felt like he had walked into the next century. And yet everyone seems so calm. Everything seems so normal. Except of course, everyone his age or under are super-geniuses.
They didnât put this on for his benefit. They hardly noticed he was there. But Eamon didnât need any more convincing. His eyes and heart told him that New Man is the real deal.
Eamon slipped under the covers, his thoughts turning to Emma Adkins. E-man; she calls him E-man. This sexy thing can yank his chain at will and all it does is make her more attractive. Eamon had lost his virginity when he was fourteen years old. Every girl close to his age seemed to be available. After all, he was tall, strong, good looking, brilliant, and a Turner. Girls fell into his lap, just as they had for his brother, his father, and his grandfather.
But all those girls suddenly seemed shallow. He somehow knew that he could add the IQâs of ever girl he had bedded to date and they wouldnât equal the intelligence of Emmy Adkins.
Her casual sexiness and those eyes that seemed to have a life of their own; her smile that held a thousand meanings; that perfect, perfect ass: all were made to seduce. Every aspect of her being made him think of forever; what a frightening thought! He had yet to hear a hundred words from her lips and he was already under her spell. For the first time in his young life, the word âloveâ crept into the background of Eamon Turnerâs thoughts.
Eamonâs hand slid under the covers and began massaging his penis. His eyes were closed as once again he envisioned that small round ass walking away from him, bouncing from side to side in a tight little dance of seduction. He began pounding his hardness. âFuckâ, he thought to himself, âsheâs sexier clothed than any naked woman Iâve ever been withâ.
He once again saw those silky smooth smiling lips. He imagined them wrapping themselves around his now throbbing erection; softly sexily sucking, driving him crazy with lust. Eamonâs hips lifted from the bed as his seed surged from his cock, splashing strings of semen onto the skin of his chest.
Eamon collapsed in exhaustion and frustration. He had to have her. She had to be his. He couldnât take being near her and not having her. That would be too much for him to bear.
Not for the first time today, Eamon realized that he wanted Emmy Adkins now, often and forever. He capitulated to her charm. He was seduced by her spell. She was the only thing he ever needed and didnât yet have.
After he had cleaned himself he was finally relaxed enough to go to sleep. As he drifted off he felt as if he could hear her in his mind. She seemed to be saying, âBe one with me my love. Complete me. Take me. Iâm yours.â