MARSA1-Part A Mar-Sa The Ultra-Girl Book One/Part One The Girl of Tungsten Steel by Jim Robert Bader August 21, 1997 (First Copyrights Only) 00000000 000 000 000 vvvvvv 000 000 VVVVVVVVVVVV 000 000 VVVVVVVVV 000 000 VVVVVVV 000 000 VVVVV 000 000 VVV 000 000 V 000 000000000 MAR-SA, The Ultra Girl by Jim Robert Bader Book One. The Girl of Tungsten Steel Chapter Three. Tourist Rich Shepherd eased his blue '86 Camero down the lonesome backroad, unselfconsciously tapping out to the rhythm of a pop tune cranking out on his CD player, a song called "Roach Motel" by a group called the Naked Jays, one of those suburban rap tunes that Religious Nuts were always going on about. A promoter during an interview had given it to him, and he kind of liked its subversive content, especially the way the lyrics blasted the Far-Out Right for waging class warfare against the huddled masses. Since Rick had lost his job as a Washington Correspondent years ago he had been on an anti-establishment rap himself, so he could understand where the performers were coming from, if not quite their Neo-Marxist diatribe against material society itself. Rick was far from what was often labeled the 'Liberal Leftist Press', fancying himself more of a Progressive middle-of-the-road type who tried to stay neutral in politics, whenever people would let him. He hated the general mindlessness of the Conservative movement, but he was not about to burn down the house just to deal with a few roaches. Religious nuts might get under his skin, but he was definitely a Capitalist, especially when seeking out the kind of stories that he could sell to that rag of a Tabloid he now reluctantly worked for. UFO stories were a hot topic of the day, so here he was traveling through Mendicino National Forest, surrounded by California Pines and Redwoods, expecting at any moment to run into Bigfoot, which definitely would suit his editor's political inclinations. He needed a break badly. He privately believed that he had gotten himself onto some kind of blacklist that prevented legitimate Editors from hiring him, something to do with some mighty big toes that he had inadvertently stepped upon during one of his investigations. He had been a snot-nosed, wet-behind-the-ears punk out to make a name for himself without realizing just how politics worked in the nation's capitol, and he had made the mistake of trusting the wrong people to back him up, which made him a major-league failure in the eyes of his peers. So here he was, stuck in the Siberia of Journalism that confused the Pavaratzi with Photojournalism, where UFO stories were considered High Concept. It was crackpot work requiring a lot of interviews with sincere and well-intentioned people that he personally believed needed more professional council than he was up to providing. This one was probably another meteorite, and he doubted that there would be any reliable witnesses to interview, so it was more than likely a waste of time and gas going out of his way like this, but anything was better than taking the kind of fluff assignments on which he was usually sent out. Heck, he softly mused to himself, he could probably just stay home and write the kind of story that his editor was after and they'd probably never even know the difference. He glanced at the road map to be certain of his destination, a spot located thirty miles north of Crystal Lake and a few more miles from Bartlett Springs, according to the astronomer that he had spoken to by phone earlier in the day. That was a lot of territory to cover, the proverbial needle-in-a-haystack, but if he could at least find a Park Ranger or Forest Service worker who could confirm the landing of a big chunk of rock from the sky, that would be enough to go on and make everybody happy. Just remember, he chided himself, the difference between a Meteor and a Meteorite is that one touches the ground intact while the other burns up before impact. He had endured a lecture on that point with the Astronomer, who had emphasized the importance of finding an intact chunk of rock from a scientific viewpoint, and Rick was too much of a professional to neglect such a fine detail... All at once he hit the brakes, risking a skid that would have been potentially dangerous in this mountainous country. He looked in dismay at the figures that had appeared suddenly from no where in camouflaged fatigues sporting M-16A rifles as though they were looking for trouble. Two such men confronted him from the opposite side of the road, which disinclined him from making a U-turn. "You in the car, keep your hands where I can see them!" barked one of these soldiers as they approached from different angles. Rick killed the engine, then wasted no time putting his hands above his head. No way was he going to be a smart-mouth with these customers. They looked as tough as marines and had Special Forces written all over them. Thinking he had accidentally strayed into some military war games, he said, "I'm not armed!" The lead gunman cautiously edged up to the side of his car and said, "Unlock your door, sir, and step away from the vehicle. Do not make any sudden movements." "I won't," Rick assured, already sweating the way these men seemed ready to fire on him without warning. You heard stories about this sort of thing, covert military units operating outside of normal constitutionally legal limits. In some parts of the world it was considered perfunctory to shoot reporters without a second thought, and there was no telling who these boys were with as they all were lacking identifying patches. Not a good sign, he grimly noted. He was careful not to give them any cause for alarm as he got out of his Camero, but once he was outside he was forced to lay face-down on the ground with his limbs spread-eagle while one of the enlisted men did a quick search for weapons and came away with his wallet. Rick braced himself for the inevitable when the senior ranking unit member saw his Journalist ID, and he half-expected to get a bullet in the back of the head when instead that fellow grunted, "Come with us, Mister Shepherd. Leave your vehicle here with the keys in the ignition. Do not attempt to escape and we won't be forced to restrain you." "That sounds fair enough," Rick nervously responded, deciding to be cooperative and see how far that got him. The leader-probably a Corporal or Lieutenant-had that West Point manner about him, but there was no mistaking the professionalism of a Covert Ops soldier. These guys were definitely not local National Guardsmen, which meant that somebody with a lot of authority had called them out on this bright Spring Morning. Rick contained a sudden leap of inspiration as the thought occurred to him that only something really important could have justified such classified involvement. Maybe there was more to this UFO thing than he had given credit, and maybe he had just landed himself smack into the middle of some classified mess that was way out of his league. Either way his journalistic instincts were piqued, and he decided to make the most of the situation, just in case they were not going to leave him laying facedown in a ditch somewhere. The leader spoke into his collar, which probably had a miniature transceiver as he waited a moment before saying, "This way, sir. Don't worry about your vehicle, it will be taken care of." "What's this about, soldier?" Rick decided to risk asking, half-expecting to be told not to talk by means of a rifle-butt in the stomach. "Just standard recon, sir," the man replied in a manner that was definitely West Point, "You have any questions, they'll be answered at base camp." "Recon?" Rick sniffed, carefully feeling his way as he followed a hunch and said, "Can I speak with your CO? Last I checked this wasn't Military land, and you guys aren't supposed to be here unless you've got authority from the Governor or the President. We're a hundred miles east of 'Frisco, which means this is still the US of A, am I right?" "Just come with us to base, sir," the man politely-but-firmly replied, "Any questions you have can be saved until our arrival." Rick decided not to push his luck any further and nodded, glad to learn that they were obviously not using 'Shoot-Reporters-On-Sight' orders. He turned to one of the other dark-green clad men and said, "Don't scratch the paint, I just had it reconditioned. I expect to see my wheels intact when this is over." "This way," the leader said neutrally, turning back towards the trail where he and the others had appeared, which obligated Rick to follow, making mental note of the fact that these men moved almost soundlessly with all the heavy gear that they were packing. This was definitely a Special Forces unit, but for which branch of the Military? Army Rangers, most likely, but why were they here, and what could possibly involve such a low-profile group in the middle of a wilderness? This definitely had the mark of a legitimate news story, one he only hoped he would live long enough to write as he dutifully followed these men to whatever fate their superiors planned for nosy reporters who haplessly stumbled into business that someone most likely would kill to keep from going public, a thought that Rick took no comfort in whatsoever... Mar-Sa was just beginning to develop a loping stride that could eat up ground when the land itself became more difficult to manage. It was strange that she did not feel tired for exerting herself in this thin atmosphere, but somehow her system coped with the strain as she found her endurance had increased commensurate with her newly boosted strength levels. The life-energy flowing into her body from the sun was feeding her tremendous bioenergetic power that was fortifying every cell in her body with enriched vitality and made her feel truly superhuman. All of her biological processes were working more efficiently, including the processing speed of her brain, which allowed her to analyze and record minute details of her surroundings and recall them with perfect clarity. That was a tremendous advantage since she knew so little about the terrain and was bound to encounter an obstacle at some point that she could not vault over. She had even discovered how to overcome the problem with her footing since the ground was so soft that she seemed to sink up to her ankles, while the rocks proved equally fragile if too much force was applied in propelling her forward. All that she had to do was think about her steps as she might if she were walking upon a sponge floor and somehow the force within her caused her feet to rise a bit so that she barely touched ground after the first several minutes. She was still carving a clear trail through the wilderness that a blind man could follow, but that could hardly be helped as she was not yet so agile as to avoid every branch or stray brush that came into her path. She was having enough trouble negotiating around the groups of men and women who seemed to be dogging her tracks at every turn. Fortunately for her sake she could spot them a lot sooner than they could make sight of her, which did afford her some level of advantage. It was a pity that she had to make her way in such haste, for she would have dearly loved to have studied her surroundings in more detail. The natural beauty of this forest was beyond comprehension, a virtual treasure trove of biological diversity long lost upon Wolframa, to say nothing of the invaluable wealth of resources that she took note of in her passing. Clear-running water was the first thing that she stopped to sample, taking her first drink of naturally-occurring Earth water as she instinctively knew it would be safe for her to sample. The taste of trace minerals and oxidation was delicious, and she would gladly have drunk her fill if the solders had not begun to close in on her at that point, forcing her to flee before she could be fully encircled. It was clearly not the same initial units that she had encountered before who were dogging her footsteps now but another unit deposited ahead of her trail in an attempted containment. She now estimated that the strength of the security forces being detailed for her capture numbered well over a hundred, for which she supposed she ought to feel complimented, but at it was her liberty at stake she would sooner have done without the honor. Another thing that she noted in passing were the woods themselves, fibrous wonders that grew to a height that would have been impossible under the heavier gravity of Wolframa. The wood they contained alone would have been considered invaluable by her people, yet her borrowed memories informed her that the natives treated such timber as a common commodity that could be used in construction, or even burned for heat combustion. If anything could bring home how primitive their society was, it was such a wasteful concept, and to think that there were places where forest such as this were being burned by the hundreds of metric acres! Abruptly she discovered one of those naturally occurring obstacles that could not be vaulted or avoided, and the ridge appeared so suddenly in her path that she could not stop herself in time to avoid it. She tried with everything she had to prevent a forward plunge over this abyss, seeing a two hundred meter sudden drop looming before her, and without thinking she threw her hands forward as if to somehow prevent the immanent disaster... And found--to her further amazement--that the fall did not happen. She may have cried out, either in dismay or surprise, most probably both, but found to her amazed delight that she was continuing to move horizontal as a force pushed against her, giving her the lift that she needed to become momentarily airborne, gliding in an angular drop that tapered near the bottom until she made a much gentler landing than she would have believed possible before it was accomplished. She rolled to a stop, then lay still on her back, staring up at the sky, trying to somehow come to grips with what she had just done, then risked sitting up and looking back the way that she had fallen. Sure enough there were several figures standing at the top of the rise staring back down at her from over fifteen hundred meters distance. Her increased visual acuity even allowed her to see the looks of sheer amazement on their faces, an expression she could well understand as it did not seem possible even to her that she could have flown such a distance, even granted that it amounted to something more like controlled falling. In fact, it seemed to her a very good time to make a hasty exit while they were still stunned by her achievement. No sense standing around giving them a perfect target to test the range and accuracy of their weapons, but it was good to note that they were at least human enough to be surprised at such an unexpected feat on her part. Even the hardened security men of Ninjarma would have reacted thus if provided with an example of such a clear impossibility as a woman flying under her own power. Clearly the power within her had more applications than she had even dared suspect. It was evidently some kind of psychokinetic force that had prevented her from making another crater, albeit smaller than the last. It now seemed obvious that her mind was the center of this strange energy, and it was a psychic force that enabled her to survive her crash landing in the first place. Some kind of field protected her, one that could be used to propel her against the force of gravity, or possibly even cancel out the effect of her inertia, and it was as natural to her now as breathing the thin air. No doubt this power had other applications she had yet to discover, but it was heartening to note that she was no longer so earthbound and had another advantage with which to evade the soldiers. Still, she was not ready to attempt full flight. That would take time to learn how to master, and uncontrolled levitation could pose many unexpected dangers. She remembered the black aerial craft and knew instinctively that she would become a far more recognizable target once above the treeline, so it was better not to push her luck any farther than it had been. She set out again, hoping that she could find a trail that would lead her to more civilized surroundings. This was certainly no time for...how did Mark Daniels put it? Ah yes...stopping to smell the flowers. She wanted to see those flowers that appeared in her mind unbidden. It would be a scientific dream if she could only have the time to pick some samples for later analysis, or to simply stop and admire their beauty... Phoebe Winters was furious as she stalked her way up the hiking trail, mad enough to spit nails. After all the trouble that she had gone through to get Tom to agree to this camping trip, and then he goes and pulls a stunt like that! Makes all the right moves at work, sends out all the signals that he was interested, and then he turns into a jerk and leaves me stranded here in the middle of this goddamned forest! That was the problem with men, they just could not be relied upon. They wimp out when you call their bluff, then get all offended at any and every little slight to their manhood. All because he found out about my roommate and me, was that any reason for calling her a Bull Dyke? Katie had been Phoebe's first lover, female or otherwise, and it was natural to compare her with any other potential lover, male or female, who might catch her interest. Phoebe was not a Lesbian per se, she liked men as well as women and considered herself perfectly healthy for such interests. It was not like she had AIDS or anything even remotely as nasty, so what was Tom's problem in getting so offended? At five-and-a-half feet tall, a fairly stunning blonde with good measurements and a fine athletic build, she thought that she was exactly the sort of girl men dreamed about taking to bed and had not expected to be met with such rejection. Phoebe supposed that it did serve her right, though. She was-at least technically-cheating on Katie to even consider dating a guy, but Katie had been away on business to Japan for two weeks and it was driving Phoebe up the wall with frustration. Two years in a relationship and she was not cut out for the single life, but Tom had been the only guy who had even caught her interest, and he had turned out to be a real Macho pig when she had accidentally let slip that she was missing her roommate and felt incredibly horny. This time of the month was always hell for her as she felt insatiable for the touch of another human being... Of course, she had not anticipated the sort of contact that she made a few instants after thinking this, and as something large loomed up in her path she barely had time to a halt at the last possible instant. Phoebe caught her own momentum just barely in time and still rebounded off the solid object with force enough to land her flat on her back-pack. Her bedroll cushioned her head, but there was no such cushion for her rump as it landed with a solid thump on the ground, forcing her to exclaim an oath as the wind was partially driven out from her lungs. Then she stared up at what she had collided against, and her mouth fell completely open. A human form-a Woman! And gaudily dressed in some kind of fancy, colorful costume, complete with cape, no less! And what a woman! Well over six feet tall with measurements that looked like something right out of a Mens Magazine...and was she imagining things or did this lady have a metallic gold complexion? Her hair looked like spun gold wires, and those eyes were large and as violet as Elizabeth Taylor's! "Escuze mhe...ey dhid naut zee you..." "Hah?" Phoebe blurted, continuing to stare up at this amazing Goddess come to life. There was a sudden rustle in the surrounding woods, and then men appeared with weapons, heavily armed soldiers sporting assault rifles, who flanked out around them with their guns directed at the golden Goddess. "Control to Unit Six," one of the men said into his collar, "Contact with Subject is affirmed, we have containment. Subject is unarmed but may be dangerous, so we will exercise extreme caution." "Go away!" the woman said in clearly accented English, "I do naut want to go with you..." "Take it easy, Ma'am," said the one who had spoken before, "No one want to hurt you, we just want to ask a few questions. Rodrigues, get that civilian out of here now!" One of the soldiers moved towards the prone Phoebe, but the golden woman misinterpreted the action and moved to intercept him, grasping his uniform and throwing him to the side with ridiculous ease as though the man weighed practically next to nothing. He bounced off of a nearby tree and landed in a heap some distance away, which made the other soldiers react with weapons firing at point-blank range directly at the stranger. The unit leader tried to order them to desist, but his people were reacting on gut-level fear to an attack against one of their members. The woman was struck repeatedly by their bullets, and she reacted to the impact, but the bullets seemed to flare where they struck, and she remained standing, not hurt, just visibly shaken. A moment later her expression changed from fear to one of anger. Her eyes seemed to flash with emotion, and then she spread her hands wide and those soldiers directly in front of her were picked up and thrown back as if by an invisible wind. She turned as another soldier threatened her with his rifle, and suddenly the weapon broke apart in his hands as though exploding, causing him to rear back in scream in pain and terror. The woman wasted no time reaching down and picking the astonished Phoebe up with one hand and lifting her into her arms, then everything seemed to blur around them as their surroundings whizzed past at an incredible rate. The wind rushed past so suddenly as Phoebe tried to protest being handled like the proverbial sack of potatoes when she discovered-much to her increasing horror- that the ground was beginning to fall away from beneath them. They were airborne for only a few moments before falling to earth again in a less than perfect landing, and Phoebe found herself tumbling out of the woman's grasp, hitting the dirt and rolling until she came to a stop at the base of a tree with her pack once more absorbing the worst of the impact. Several of her belongings were scattered in the process, but Phoebe barely noticed, too stunned by what had happened to fully comprehend what had just happened. "Ow," said the figure that rose up from her own rude tumble, regaining her footing with an all-too-human expression as she slowly looked around, then turned to Phoebe and said, "Are you all right?" very slowly. Phoebe tried to find the words to respond, failed at several attempts, then finally gasped, "Wh-what...what are you?" "A...friend," the other woman replied, her tone less accented than before, "I am...sorry for involving you...I will go now..." "Wait!" Phoebe called out, surprised at her own impulse as she undid the straps of her back-pack, then managed to stand up on her own two legs, which were feeling more than a little unsteady, "Who...who are you?" She looked the woman up and down, now in better light and clearly alien by any conventional standard. Her costume really was purple and blue with a long red cape attached, and lots of metallic gold skin showing as though the suit were really some fancy kind of leather bikini. The hip-high purple boots were certainly an interesting touch, as was the red headband that did not appear to serve anything more than aesthetic function. To be sure, the woman looked human in most of the ways that mattered, and she was incredibly gorgeous with measurements to die for. I wonder if those things are natural, she found herself thinking as the regarded the other woman's cleavage, then she swallowed and forced herself to look up at larger-than-normal eyes that definitely had purple irises and said, "What is your name?" The golden woman slowly touched herself and said, "Mar-Sa." "Marsha, huh?" Phoebe copied the gesture and said her own name, "Phoebe Winters." "Fee-be?" the strange golden woman awkwardly repeated. "Phoebe, as in the Moon?" Phoebe attempted, then decided to jump ahead to the main subject and asked, "Why were those goons chasing after you with the hardware?" "I...think they want to study me," the golden woman replied, and Phoebe wondered what exactly her age was as she did not seem that old, more like a teenager playing hooky. "Let me guess," Phoebe said, taking a deep breath, "You're an alien." That earned her a startled look, "How did you know?" "Lucky guess," Phoebe replied, "And I'll bet your home planet's named Krypton..." "Krypton?" the other woman looked puzzled, "That is an element, right? One of the Noble gasses." "Okay, where are you from, then?" Phoebe asked, risking much by approaching the woman to what seemed like a reasonably safe proximity. "Wolframa," the stranger replied, "From the Capitol Dome of Ninjarma province." "Wolframa," Phoebe smiled, "Sounds like Wolfram, another name for Tungsten. That's also an element..." "Seventy fourth on the periodic chart," the stranger said, her expression faintly distracted, "Atomic Weight one hundred eighty three-point-eight-five. No wait...that cannot be right..." "Okay," Phoebe tried again, "So...you came here in a space ship, a flying saucer?" "No," the other woman replied, "I...was projected here by my mentor, Kar-Tor." "We're making some progress, then," Phoebe mumbled to herself, wondering just how you were supposed to handle these First Contact situations. They always made it look so easy in Science Fiction, "Are you, like, an explorer, an advanced scout, the lead wave of an invading army?" "No," the other woman hastily assured, "I am an exile. I cannot go home. I am...stranded." "No fooling," Phoebe said, "Does that mean you come in peace?" "Yes," the golden woman said with a nod of her head, "Phe-be...I have...involved you with my problems. The people who are chasing me may hurt you unintentionally, so I will leave you here..." "No!" Phoebe said, "I mean...where will you go? Um...what kind of plans to you have?" "Plans?" the woman looked around, then back to Phoebe again and said, "I have...no plans. I do not know your world..." "Exactly," Phoebe said, thinking fast, "So you need a guide, someone who can show you how to get around, maybe find a place where you can hide out until the heat blows over. That is, unless you'd like to go with those guys." "I...don't want to be a burden," the golden woman said, but her eyes betrayed a hopeful expression. "Trouble, what trouble?" Phoebe shrugged, "Look, I'm no scientist, especially not a Rocket Scientist, but I can tell that you're not going last another hour if you don't have help from somebody who knows her way around here. You're tough, and you handled those guys like a real superhero..." "A what?" the golden woman blinked. "All right, Superheroine," Phoebe snorted, "I'll explain later. But look, those guys aren't going to take long tracking us down, so we'd better make tracks fast before they find us. No offense but you stand out like a neon sign in these parts." "Where will we go?" the stranger asked. "My place," Phoebe replied, "I've got an apartment in San Francisco. It belongs to my Roomie, but I don't think she'd mind my having a guest over temporarily. At least until you get settled in with us natives." "You are very kind," the gold woman said, "But why do you want to help me?" Phoebe could not help smirking at that, "Maybe I just have a soft spot for strays, or maybe I think you need help. You were trying to rescue me from those soldiers back there, right?" "I thought you might be in trouble," the woman replied, "Security people...ask a lot of questions." "You've got that right," Phoebe chuckled, "Okay, Marsha, give me a moment to put my stuff together, then we'd better hit the trail, because it's a long way from here to San Francisco." There was something about the way this strange girl phrased that which gave Mar- Sa pause, one of her borrowed memories once again rising to the surface, but as she was confused enough by the events of the day she decided it was better to play along rather try to than sort things out, at least until she had a better sense of where her life was heading. This alien girl with her pale skin and impossibly fair hair coloration might be the very thing she needed to stay one step ahead of the soldiers, and so she decided to reluctantly trust this stranger, hoping against hope that she was not making a colossal error... (First Copyrights Only) (First Eleven Chapters) -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- If you wish to check out my other works, Please check out my Fanfiction webpage at: http://s11.sexshare.com/~jbader/jimbader.html All related chapters of this series can be found there along with my other works.