And His Name Shall Be

And His Name Shall Be1

Alexjandro Feyd, Axel to his friends, after the Guns and Roses singer he fancied he sounded like, Axel Rose, was the lucky operative chosen for the final testing phase of the joint secret time trial experiment.  The son of a high ranking Russian official and a Saudi Arabian professor of microbiology he had standing in both of the worlds that had stake in the time trials, was proficient in many languages, and brighter than most of the people in the program.  The main obstacle to his rising to the top of the program was tearing him away from his beloved computers long enough to participate was sometimes almost impossible.  He had already, with his father's approval and department funding, designed three computer virii in two years.  They had done much to screw up the infidel capitalists accounting systems.  He gave most of the credit for his success in that area to the fact that he based his computer virii on the real ones that his mother studied, the ones that most of the inner circle swore were the real route to destroying the infidels from the hated West.  He was well loved by all in his world, except by sweet Miri, the operations tech with the most beautiful ass he'd ever seen who couldn't bring herself to love him as much as he craved.  Even as the machines warmed up and his trip to the past began she teased him.  She was bending over the power console, letting the material of her fatigues stretch delightfully over her sweetly rounded cheeks and slip deliciously into her crack, the place he could imagine his now desert dry tongue slipping in his wildest fantasies.  He checked the power indicator on his wrist that told him the state of the batteries for his phase shift field, set his coffee cup down by the main computer and climbed onto the transmittal platform.  It was well into the green, which meant he had shift abilities for at least half an hour.  As long as it was on nothing could hurt him.  Walking through walls was like pushing through a curtain of soft butter and the ground felt spongy, but as long as he didn't stand in one place too long he wouldn't sink in.  His big head turned back to the little head.2

It wasn't that Miri didn't like him.  They ate together most days, went to movies whenever they had a chance, and played against each other on the Sega in the recreation area almost every day.  It was just that she was so strictly religious that she wouldn't take her clothes off for him.  They had rubbed together to both of their mutual satisfaction a few times, and once she even reached in and held him for the glorious ten seconds it had taken him to make a mess in her hand.  That was a s far as she would go though.  She wouldn't even listen to his explanation of how he could wear a safe and let the rubber check the flow that could cause her to get pregnant.  He had seen her naked though, but to tell her that would tell her where the missing parts for the phase units had gone, and that wouldn't do, for she was just as loyal to the cause as she was religious.  To her it was the same thing.  Axel, with his Russian side was different.  It was power he was after, not theological supremacy.  If Moscow were still ruled by the party he could rise to the top in no time with his own personal phase unit.  In this brave, new world of Russian/Arab co-operation there were still plenty of opportunities though, one just had to be a little more flexible.  There were also nicer places for a wealthy playboy who held any passport he put in a request for to live.  He'd seen the brochures, been to a few of the places.  When it came right down to it anywhere was nicer than the restrictive secret underground complex where he had spent most of his life thanks to having the parents he did.3

The purpose of this particular phase of the experiment was to put someone into a past time, but not completely into phase with it.  Materializing in phase had proved disastrous a few times, with agents and equipment being seen and one poor fellow, Axel's friend Anton, causing a huge explosion when he suddenly materialized within a wall in the Jerico experiment.  Burning bushes, wheels in wheels, and ladders into the sky were all parts of the time experiments.  The idea people had calculated that a body out of phase would be able to coexist with matter as long as the field was on.  In smaller trials it seemed the theory worked.  Axel kind of enjoyed walking through walls, especially in the women's section of the complex.  The fact that agents could now walk through, and spy from within walls the way he could watch his beloved Miri in the shower was a great factor in the Jihad already.  Part of today's test, if he had a good chance, was too see if he could shoot from within the field.  That would be a great bonus.  Assassinations would win the war.  There was also talk of having suicide bombers shift into phase when they were within a wall in an enemy complex.  With the fervor that the cause engendered there would be plenty of volunteers vying for the sure ticket to Heaven that such an end would ensure.4

The machine hummed and lights flashed.  Axel moaned as he watched sweet Miri adjust the dials.  He closed his eyes.  "Sweet Miri." he sighed.  "I could bring you such joy.  Oh, I would give you such a son.  Together we could save the world."  He was so excited that he was sure everyone would see the swelling in his pants and someone would call the mission off because his fly was tented out beyond the limit of the precisely calculated phase field.  That didn't happen.  The hum built to a whine.  The pressure on his fly grew to almost unbearable.  He closed his eyes and imagined Miri in the shower, touching herself the way he wanted to touch her until her flower was in full bloom; slick skin glistening in the harsh light and reflected all over the room in a thousand polished tiles.  His breath was coming faster and faster.5

Suddenly Axel realized that everything had gone quiet.   He opened his eyes.  Eeeeya.  The experiment has worked.  There before him, naked on a rough bed lay a woman, and what a woman.  Miri Chelova, eat your heart out he thought.  The woman looked to be half-asleep, and although material could pass out of the containment field he knew that he was untouchable, safe even if she called in the whole town.  She was eyeing him up though, licking her lips and smiling at him.  Part of the official plan was that if he could find that Jesus monkey that had started the non-believers on this Christianity thing he would shoot him and save the world a lot of trouble.  Axel had something better to shoot, and it was going to go off in his pants if he didn't haul it out soon.  He did, and off it went all over the chick on the bed.  She didn't even try to evade the gush.  She just moaned and rubbed it into herself, smiling at him the way he wished Miri would.6

The room was starting to waver and he knew the field was about to collapse.  As he tucked himself back in the woman whispered to him.  "My angel.  Come back to me."  He hoped he could.  The broad was incredible, better than any he could find on the internet, except maybe a couple from Karup's private collection.7

Back in two thousand and five he reported to the hovering technicians that the mission had been a great success, but the duration hadn't been enough to accomplish much of anything.  He also proudly announced, with a huge grin on his face, that shooting from the field seemed to be no problem at all.  He didn't say what he shot though.  As the crew cheered he made his way back to his computers.  He had a half-hour until the crew would leave the time chamber and Miri would, as predictable as sunrise, hit the shower.  This time he would take a camera on his secret wall walking expedition.   He was thinking that maybe, with the bonus he was due to get from this mission plus the money he had in a secret account from designing computer games he could marry Miri and they could retire.8

He wished he'd thought to take a camera with him on that expedition.  Oh well.  It was just as well that there was no chance of anyone finding out what had happened between him and the Nazarene bimbo back there in the past.  Imagine, some horny chick from two thousand odd years ago thought he was an angel.  It would serve the silly wench right if she got knocked up.  Maybe he was his own great, great, great, great, grandpa, like in that stupid American song.  As he lit a joint of good black hash he started singing one of his favorite tunes, "Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty."  Maybe he'd learn to play guitar.  He made sure the batteries for his private phase shift field were on charge and ate a Mars Bar.9