The following is a work of fiction created and written by Jim Robert Bader, with ideas and suggestions provided by my good friends, Bill Guiroff and Kate Norcross (the REAL-life Katie). No other persons living or dead are intended to be reflected here (save for purposes of obvious parody and/or social commentary), and any resemblance to other creations of popular fiction are purely coincidental. This property is the work of Jim Robert Bader and is a rough draft copy, to be revised and altered should I one day find a friendly publisher willing to help me out. It is presented here for the express purpose of gaining friendly recognition and/or creative commentary and may not be duplicated or published elsewhere without express permission of the author. Mar-Sa The Ultra-Girl Book One/Part Two The Girl of Tungsten Steel by Jim Robert Bader September 4, 2001 (First Copyrights Only) 00000000 000 000 000 vvvvvvv 000 000VVVVVVVVVVVVVV000 000 VVVVVVVVVV 000 000 VVVVVV 000 000 VVVV 000 000 VV 000 00000000 Mar-Sa, The Ultra-Girl by Jim Robert Bader Book One/Part Two The Girl of Tungsten Steel Chapter Fifteen. Playmate "You sure about this, Marsha?" Mark asked as they stood outside the gates of the palatial compound, "It's not too late to change your mind..." "Thank you, Mark, but I'm certain that this is for the best," Mar-Sa explained, "That past week has been an extraordinary experience, but now...I think it is time to take the plunge, as Phoebe would put it..." "Yeah, well," Phoebe grumbled, "I know I'm usually the one telling you to go and follow your instincts, Mar, but this is a pretty bold step even for me, and I wouldn't hold it against you for backing out at the last moment." "We went over this last night, Phoebe," Mar-Sa replied as she studied the lush green yard that lay beyond the front gates and the road leading up towards the distant mansion, thinking to herself that a Councilor would not rate such a vast estate and such greenery on Wolframa would be priceless, "This is the way that I believe will best serve to give me the forum that I need, and Heather Holberg has a background in the sciences that will enable her to uniquely understand what my being here symbolizes for this planet." "It's not Heather Holberg that's got me worried," Mark said, "It's what other people are gonna think when they hear you did this, Marsha. Heather Holberg's father built a fortune on a monument to hedonism and self-indulgence, and her mother used to be one of his Playmates..." "But her father passed away over a decade ago," Mar-Sa replied, "Leaving his daughter in command of a huge fortune and a multi-media empire that she has devoted to many worthwhile causes. I believe that she alone can be trusted to provide me with what I need to establish myself upon this planet, and all I need to do is get an audience with her, to find out if I have what she desires in a model." "You kidding, Mar?" Phoebe sniffed, "You'd blow the competition out of the water! But how are you gonna do this? I mean...it won't be that easy to just walk in there and say, 'Hi, I'm an alien and I'd like to pose for you, do you think you can check out my resume?" "It will hardly be that difficult," Mar-Sa smiled as she walked up to the gates and called out, "May I speak with someone in authority? I wish to talk to one Heather Holberg..." "Marsha, they don't even have a guard on duty," Mark pointed out, "You don't think anyone will...?" "May I help you?" a disembodied voice asked, calling their attention to a flat monitor screen that was positioned out of direct sight, just at the corner of one of the gates. Both Mark and Phoebe jumped at that, but Mar-Sa only smiled and said, "I would like to speak to your employer. I have a...business proposition that I wish to discuss..." "We don't take solicitation," the voice replied, "Leave a name, number and address and we'll contact you..." "That...might be a bit of a problem," Mar-Sa replied, "You see, I'm not from around here...in fact, I don't even have a mailing address as yet. I'm new in town, but I do believe that you will have heard of me. I'm the one that the presses refer to as..." she winced slightly as she spoke the words, "...Ultra- Girl." "Is this some kind of a joke?" the person on the other end asked skeptically, "Because if it is..." "I can see that a demonstration will be in order," Mar-Sa turned and said, "Come Phoebe...and you, Mark. Would you like to join us inside?" "You're kidding, right?" Mark grinned, "That's gotta be a trick question. You think I would miss a chance to go in there and see some actual playmates?" "What a remarkable specimen of the human species this unit has selected for bonding," said the invisible probe with a hint in its synthesized voice that Phoebe found quite uncanny. "Is it just me or does it sound like he's getting more sarcastic every day?" she wondered. "You think so too, huh?" Mark smiled, "Guess hanging around me's really rubbing off on you, huh, 'Zak?" "What a distressing concept," Mar-Sa chuckled, "Unit 1138, your learning ability far exceeds my expectations." "This Unit does not comprehend why becoming more 'human' is regarded as meritorious," the probe responded, "The corruption of this Unit's learning profile is...indeed most distressing." "Never mind," Mar-Sa said as she offered her hand to Phoebe, then lifted her friend into her arms before levitating over the gates. Mark simply vanished and reappeared on the other side while Mar-Sa glided across a wide lawn following a lengthy drive way, floating over towards the mansion itself, and within a few more seconds touched down before the building's front entrance, even as Mark joined them, having shifted his outward identity to his alter ego as Action. "Now then," Mar-Sa said as they walked up to the front entrance, only to be greeted by the sound of triggers being cocked as a half a dozen figures appeared wearing black outfits marked with Security logos. "Freeze!" the leader of these armed figures demanded. Mark's outline blurred for a few seconds, but then he smiled and said, "Or else...what?" The Security team remained where they were staring blankly before it registered with them that they were no longer holding guns cocked at the ready. In fact all of their ammo clips and side weapons had likewise mysteriously vanished, leaving them to stare stupidly at the three individuals calmly facing them, two of whom were wearing flashy, colorful outfits. "There is no need for such tactics," Mar-Sa explained, "We are not here to cause you trouble." "Ah..." the lead of the security team spoke into his cuff, "Control? We have a little...situation here..." "All units stand down," said a feminine voice that spoke with some authority, and a redheaded woman dressed in elegant attire walked out onto the patio, "Relax, Mallory, the word just came down from the boss lady granting these three access. You and your people can take a break, then report back to your regular duty assignments." "Ah..." one of the men held up a hand and said, "Is it possible...I could get my finger back? I...ah...seem to have lost it with my piece..." "Ooops!" Mark winced slightly before glancing down and noticing that one of the confiscated guns was bloodied. "Eeeyuck," Phoebe winced, involuntarily curling her own fingers. "Here, I'll take that," Mar-Sa said as she knelt down and retrieved the gory object before straightening up and approaching the wounded gunman, "Honestly, Mark, you need to be more careful..." "I'm sorry," Mark said sheepishly, "Sometimes I kinda...forget myself at those speeds..." "Forget yourself?" Phoebe winced, "Remind me to count my fingers next time we shake hands, Stud." Mark winced again and murmured, "I said I was sorry..." Mar-Sa's hands glowed where she set the severed finger back at the proper joint and extended her mind to fuse the two parts back together, sensing the ligaments and nerve fibers healing back to their original configuration before allowing her glow to fade away again, and then she said, "I'd wrap that in a splint and try not to use that hand for a while. It should be back to normal in no time." "Ah...thanks," the Security man in question replied, his face a mask of shock and astonishment as he stared down at his hand, seeing only a pale ring of flesh to denote where he had formerly been injured. "Now then," Mar-Sa said, addressing herself towards the redhead, "Please take us to Heather Holberg." "Right this way," said the attractive young lady, giving Mar-Sa a curious lookover that made Phoebe bristle slightly. Inside the mansion proved to be as huge as both Phoebe and Mark had anticipated, but for Mar-Sa it was a moment of true revelation, her first time witnessing in person the sort of opulent lifestyle that existed on this world. She could not help gaping like a tourist at the well-furnished interior with its comfortable blend of tastefully matched color and style, the foyer leading towards a main living area that was large enough to house a considerable library, and the fortune of books on display made the scholar inside her feel like the proverbial kid in a candy store. There were more books on hand than she had ever even imaged existing, and the thought of what knowledge they might contain gave her the urge to browse that was nearly overwhelming. But she resisted temptation and followed the redhead past this study as they came out into another room that was full of people...or rather, full of beautiful and exotic looking women. They were lounging around and socializing over drinks while a few played games with all manner of recreational equipment, some involving handles and levers, others the more exotic types of computer games and...something that her memories called Pin-Ball... And beyond this lay a full-picture window with a set of double-doors leading out to a patio area where yet more beautiful young ladies wearing even less attire were frolicking about a large pool full of water, more than enough to sustain a small colony back on Wolframa...and these people were swimming and diving into it? It utterly amazed her, even as much as she was intrigued at seeing so many beautiful bodies sunning themselves while, further in the distance, she could see another group of women playing some type of game called "Volley-Ball." The atmosphere was light and casual, as though these women did this sort of thing every day and took it as perfectly normal. Of course, once she, Mark and Phoebe entered the main room heads turned immediately to stare at them and much of the activity came to an abrupt halt, especially one group of women who had been playing a game involving wooden sticks and rounded balls (curiously enough called Pool, though there was no water to be found upon this table). It made Mar-Sa feel more than a little self-conscious to be the center of focus for such an interesting group of Terran women, but she tried her best not to stare back as she followed the redhead towards a spiraling set of stairs, which same they mounted just a few moments later. "Huh, what was with those guys?" Phoebe muttered to herself to help relieve the tension, "You'd think they'd never seen a blonde before in this place..." "Somehow I don't think that's quite it," Mark averred softly, grateful that his costume covered just enough of his face that few could tell how much he was blushing. Once on the second floor the redhead took them down a balcony that ended at an official looking door, and there she paused to knock before saying, "Ms. Holberg? Those guests you were expecting..." "Show them in," a voice spoke through an intercom system, and soon they were inside another room that was almost as spacious as the study, but far more Spartan in the tasteful arrangement of its furnishings. At one end of the room was a desk that leant a further air of gravity to the chamber as a hole, but the tall and elegant looking golden-haired woman in a pale blue dress who greeted them was already approaching on foot, extending a hand in polite courtesy while simultaneously taking in the surprising size of the golden-skinned Mar-Sa. "How do you do?" she asked in a lilting voice that showed considerable refinement and a bit of an accent, "My name is Heather Holberg, owner and publisher of Playmate magazine. As you are?" Mar-Sa extended a gloved hand and gently took the other woman's fingers into her embrace, "Mar-Sa of Ninjarma, former citizen of the planet Wolframa..." "Wolframa?" the elegantly dressed blonde woman said with the raising of an eyebrow, her blue eyes effecting to study Mar-Sa without appearing too intrusive, "Curious. Won't you come in and have a seat? And...you are?" she turned her gaze to Mark and Phoebe. "Action," Mark replied with a smile, "I'd prefer if you'd leave it at that." "Ah...I'm nobody special," Phoebe replied, "I just came along with Marsha...ah, Mar-Sa..." "Mar-Sa?" Heather remarked as she took a step to one side and then slowly began to circle around the golden-skinned woman, murmuring softly, "Yes...you are indeed quite exceptional. I am honored that you have paid me this visit, but...how may I be of service?" "Um...that's the thing, really," Mar-Sa began to say when another party entered the room, moving with some haste. "Sorry...didn't expect you this soon, sorry about that," said a beautiful brunette wearing only a bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her head and still so moist in places that it was obvious that she had just emerged from the swimming pool and had hastened to join them, "Heather, I'm..." "You're forgiven, Cathy," Heather's amusement was clear in her tone, as was a strong sense of unspoken affection, "My personal assistant, Catherine Keating. Cathy, please take notes for us, and make sure that everything is working..." "Ah, are you talking about cameras, recorders and stuff like that?" Mark asked. "Oh, don't worry, Big Guy," Cathy smiled as she studied the garishly colorful costume of the man calling himself Action, "Nothing here's gonna be used against you in a court of law or anything like that. We're strictly legit here, we respect the privacy of individuals and the like, it's just that we also like to document things..." "That is good," Mar-Sa replied, startling Cathy, who did a serious double-take as she looked the golden skinned woman up and down without pretending to be circumspect about it. "She speaks? My god...you are gorgeous!" she remarked, "What planet are you from?" "Wolframa," Mar-Sa said again, "It is...a body orbiting an L-class star located approximately five hundred and ninety-seven light years from your star system. It's the world where I was born..." "You've come that far just to visit us?" Heather asked with a curious expression. "Not by choice...at least...not my choice," Mar-Sa explained, "I came here as a friend...because my mentor, Kar-Tor, former member of our ruling High Council, chose me to be his...agent..." "I see," Heather remarked, "Then you've come here as an ambassador?" "No," Mar-Sa shook her head sadly, "Kar-Tor...died...he was executed by my government...for the crime of defying their edicts. I was sent here in great haste to get me away from the reach of the High Council. I found myself on your world discovering that I had...gained new abilities, and I have ever since sought to use my gifts to benefit others..." "Admirable to be certain," Heather mused as she continued to study the golden woman's profile, "You are here, then, to ask for political asylum?" "Yes, exactly," Mar-Sa nodded. "But why come to us?" Cathy asked as she sat down on a couch and picked up a notepad and a pen to begin hastily scribbling in notes, "You could've gone to the government, or even the UN..." "What, and be kept in a lab somewhere for study?" Mark asked, then shuddered slightly as if remembering just such an occasion. "A fair point that," Heather nodded, looking Mar-Sa in the eyes before saying, "Perhaps you and your companions would like to tell us something of your story...from the beginning. As much as you feel comfortable about sharing." "All right then," Mar-Sa replied as she watched the elegant blonde woman sit down on the edge of her desk with an openly interested expression, "From the beginning, as much as I think you need to know about my story..." And so she began to retell the tale of her life, beginning with the history of her world and the state of gradual decay that had left their environment in total ruins, the nature of the society that had emerged from this crisis and what it meant for the future of Wolframa and its people. She then explained about her own experience waking up upon the Earth and discovering the changes that had been wrought within her. She then described the chase by government soldiers, her encounter with Phoebe and what they had done to escape capture and how they had come to meet with the man called Action, who was the recipient of Wolframan technology, which Mark then confirmed, giving a more abbreviated version of his own most recent adventures. Heather and her assistant listened to of this with rapt fascination, but then Heather spoke up and said, "What is this about your...unique abilities being the result of an energy produced by our sun? I'm quite certain that many Physicists of my acquaintance would be fascinated to know more about this...Bio-Energy you speak of?" "Oh yes," Mar-Sa replied, pausing a moment before saying, "It was discovered centuries ago that there is an energy that is generated by living matter that differs substantially from what you know of as the Electromagnetic spectrum. It is much closer to what one of your theorists has labeled as Quantum Foam, and in its raw state it can be found in the space between atoms, neither as a particle nor a wave, but rather as a state of quasi-energetic energy that can't be detected by your current level of technology, but which can be strongly indicated if you study the effects it has on living tissues..." "Uh oh," Cathy smirked, "She's talking your language, Heather. Shoulda known you'd meet a geek from another world who thinks just like you do..." "What, are you kidding?" Phoebe asked. "I kid you not," Cathy smiled, stretching out her long, bare legs, "Heather's one of the smartest people I know, bright as a whip and sharp as a needle. You get her going about techno stuff and you might as well clear your schedule for the rest of the day because it'll be well past sunset before she takes a second breath." "One of the perks of being the boss is that I can indulge my whims on such occasions," Heather noted with a saucy glare at her personal assistant before turning back to Mar-Sa, "But I do confess that you present a fascinating wealth of unimaginable knowledge. I can see why the government would be very interested in talking to you, the possibilities you present are endless..." "Yes, I am aware of this," Mar-Sa replied, "I well know that my people are hundreds of years more advanced than your own, and it is my intention to share as much of what I know about our science with you as I think would be safe to disseminate at this time." "Disseminate?" Heather inclined her head with a thoughtful expression, "By that I take it to mean that you don't believe that it would be safe to share everything?" "That is correct," Mar-Sa nodded, "I know the history of your world well enough to know that it closely parallels my own, and that knowledge gained too quickly always tends to imbalance a society. If I gave you everything at once it would be like giving a primitive tribe the knowledge of Stellar Fusion. I think you could imagine the possibilities it might present for both military and civilian uses..." "I do indeed understand," Heather nodded, "And I will respect your wishes on this. Tell us whatever you believe will be of use to us and I know it will be a boon and not a curse...and won't you please sit down? You do not need to impress upon us how tall you are, it's a detail that is rather hard to miss." "Oh, I am sorry," Mar-Sa glanced around, "It's just that everything around here is so nice, and...I did not want to risk damaging things by apply my weight to it..." "You're serious, right?" Cathy asked, "Just how much do you weigh anyhow?" "Here we go again," Phoebe rolled her eyes, "You guys are not gonna believe this..." "Sixty-nine Yurtons," Mar-Sa replied. "Which is?" Heather asked with an arched eyebrow. "Three hundred-eighty-five pounds," Mar-Sa replied, "But...I think I might have put on a few since I got here. Earth food is so much richer than where I come from..." There was a suitable pause before Cathy broke the silence by murmuring, "Three hundred...? What are you made out of, Lead?" "No," Mar-Sa replied, "I have the same elementary composition as you, there's just a lot more of me occupying the same proportional space..." "I...don't understand how that is even possible," Heather confessed, "The human body is mainly composed of water..." "Seventy-seven-point-four percent liquid by volume," Mar-Sa nodded, "But the remaining twenty-three percent, in my case, is a lot denser than your own flesh and blood. My bones are a lot thicker and heavier and my muscle and dermal tissues are much more tightly integrated. There are a few anatomical differences between your internal construction and my own, but everything has been subjected to around two times the gravity and around ten times the air pressure to which you are accustomed. The stresses that my body was routinely subjected to from the day of my birth were exponentially greater than anything that a normal Earth woman could normally experience..." "But that means you should have puffed up like a blowfish the moment you set foot on our world," Cathy pointed out. "That is true enough," Mar-Sa nodded, "Especially since I first arrived here outside of the Earth's atmosphere and most probably was exposed to hard vacuum..." "Then how could you survive such a transition?" Heather asked. "I don't really know," Mar-Sa admitted, "Kar-Tor did subject me to a number of tests that were intended to condition me to withstand environmental hardships, but nothing like that should have been possible. I can only speculate that my arrival here corresponded to my exposure to the intense Biosolar bombardment that exists outside of the Earth's atmosphere, which is even greater than what I encountered when I landed on your world's surface. It must have somehow fortified me and triggered the creation of an environmental shield that protected me from the harshness of space and the friction of reentry. I do know that my pineal gland absorbs Bioenergy and channels it through my nervous system into every cell of my body, and that somehow this power has caused my cells to resonate with an energy field strong enough to resist tremendous kinetic punishment. My skin has become nearly impenetrable and my strength is over a thousand times as great as what it was on Wolframa." "Like...how strong are you?" Cathy asked. "I have not yet properly tested my limits," Wolframa replied, "But I believe that I can manage at least one hundred Kortons...that would be five-to-six hundred thousand pounds each in your language..." "Three hundred tons?" Heather looked frankly astonished. "That is going by what I could lift back on Wolframa, multiplied by roughly a thousand," Mar-Sa explained, "Understand, on Wolframa I would weigh over seven hundred and fifty pounds and could lift just a bit less than my own body weight over my head. I could run and move about pretty much the same as people on your world could manage, but here I seem to have the ability to accelerate my velocity to well over two hundred times normal...and Mark here seems to do that even better, thanks to the modifications that have given him such phenomenal control over the atoms of his own body." "Action," Mark reminded, "I'd rather you didn't use my street name, Marsha..." "But what else can you do besides run fast, lift heavy objects and bounce bullets off your...um...chest?" Cathy wondered. "Many very extraordinary things," Mar-Sa replied, "For one thing I seem to have gained incredible psychic abilities such as telepathy and telekinesis. I can levitate to fly, and whatever I touch gets included in that field of levitation. My touch can also heal wounds and serious injuries, everything short of bringing the dead back to life, and I can see and hear things at a great distance through Clairaudience and Clairvoyance..." "Can you read minds?" Heather asked, "If so, then what am I thinking?" Mar-Sa smiled, "I try not to read minds unless I have to, but when I focus on an individual...I can sense that you are thinking of what an incredible scoop this would be, and how you would love to rub some noses in the dirt over these revelations...some fellow by the name of...Ramouri?" Heather's eyes got very round and after a moment of pause she said, "That...is amazing." "It's nothing, really," Mar-Sa shrugged, "Kar-Tor theorized that our enlarged pineal glands were developed to channel the weak Biosolar energy of our sun into useable power, so I'm used to doing this under conditions less extreme, but here, with your sun being a thousand times more energetic..." "Can you draw on this power all the time?" Cathy asked. "Not at the same intensity," Mar-Sa explained, "My power is halved at night, but there is still enough Biosolar energy saturating your world to give me more power than any human probably has a right to be, not that I am complaining." "That does seem like a tremendous environmental advantage," Heather agreed, "But how did your species develop such abilities in the first place?" "Kar-Tor speculated that our ancestors were genetically engineered to be this way," Mar-Sa replied, "Some far distant, ancient star-faring civilization even more advanced than we are today, which planted our ancestors on Wolframa and created the Keepers in order to imprison us there, no doubt as a slave colony to mine our world's rich abundance of heavy elements..." "Still seems incredible that your people would have evolved like that, Marsha," Phoebe shook her head in quiet dismay. "Not really," Mark noted, "If Marsha's right about her people being bio- engineered to be superhuman, then it's natural that they would have evolved to fit the climate of a heavy-gravity prison world." "Curious that your world is named Wolframa," Heather noted, "Which means 'heavy stone' in German." "I thought the same thing when I arrived here, but the word is derived from Vul- Per-A, an ancient word that means the same thing in my language," Mar-Sa turned and indicated Mark, "My memories of your language and culture were implanted in me by Kar-Tor, and...my friend here was the donor of this...bountiful source of raw data, but I had to take time to study and assimilate his memories, which has allowed me the unique opportunity of studying your world and confirm Kar-Tor's original theory that we are not two species but one separated by thousands of years of genetic drift and forced evolution." "No kidding?" Cathy asked, "Is that why you look so human...I mean, without the gold paint, that is..." "My coloration is natural to my race," Mar-Sa replied, "There are three distinct sub-races on my world, the Ayala, the Ashul and the Chukan. I represent the former race who dwell in the Northern hemisphere, while the other two occupy the Southern polar and Eastern equatorial regions. Our skin tones reflects different levels of the sort of harmful radiation wavelengths that bombard our world, not all of which is in the range of your visual spectrum." "A natural adaptation?" Heather mused, "Fascinating. So you are not one race but many...and yet still a branch of humanity not heretofore known upon this planet?" "I dunno about that," Cathy mused. "Huh?" Mark asked. "What do you mean?" Phoebe asked her. "Well, look at her, guys," Cathy nodded, "Doesn't she make you think of a Greek Goddess? Suppose a few of them were running around in our past? Wouldn't people tend to think of them as Sun Gods?" "You know, that is a very interesting point," Heather slowly nodded, "I was thinking to myself how much looking upon her makes me think of the divine..." "Oh please," Mar-Sa colored a brighter shade of gold about her cheeks, "I'm nothing special. Back on my world I was considered rather average..." "Now I know that you are definitely joking," Heather arched and eyebrow. "You...average?" Cathy gawked. "Yeah," Mark agreed, "We keep telling her the same thing. Makes you wonder what the rest of her people look like." "Face it, Marsha," Phoebe grinned, "Whatever else they can say about you, you're definitely not average!" "What did you call her?" Cathy asked. "That's Phoebe's way of pronouncing my name, Mar-Sa," Mar-Sa pronounced the two parts slowly, to make sure that there was no confusion, "My family name is Mar...it means 'Strength' in my language. My mother's name was Mar-Ta, my father was Mar-Tan the scientist, they...died when I was very little, executed by order of the High Council." "Executed?" Heather arched the other eyebrow, "Why?" "For treason against the state," Mar-Sa sighed, "It was a sham, of course...the only treason my parents were guilty of was opposing the dogma of the Council. The theory that I mentioned of our ancestors having been planted on our world as a prison colony, that was my father's belief, and...ironically enough...I have lived to prove his theories right. The Council was right to fear him...but not for the reason that they publicly stated." "I can see that you have a reason to feel bitter about that," Heather remarked, "But this...ancient civilization that created you...it sounds a little too much like the theories about Atlantis." "And what's so wrong about that?" Cathy asked her employer, "I'm telling you, Heather, Atlantis is more than just an old myth or a theory..." "For which there is a scattering of evidence but no definite proof," Heather replied before glancing at Mar-Sa once again, "But...perhaps I should reevaluate my position upon that. If there truly is another civilization that close to our world in stellar terms, and they are genetically similar to Homo Sapiens from our world..." "I'm just as much amazed about this as you are," Mar-Sa assured them, "My people are not even aware that any intelligent life besides our own exists in the Universe, the High Council has done its level best to deny what evidence we have that extra-stellar civilizations are capable of space travel. In fact, it is widely believed that we could not survive off-world, that we would die if we left our own planetary atmosphere, which is why early space travel was curtailed in its infancy and only unmanned probes are used to explore our nearest planets." "Boy, does that ever sound familiar," Mark sniffed, rolling his eyes, "You think maybe my Dad's secretly a member of your High Council?" "I am curious about so many things," Heather mused, "Your history, your culture, and why we have never detected any radio signals in the vicinity of your world..." "Oh, that is not so very surprising," Mar-Sa replied, "Radio technology went out of fashion for us many generations ago, long before your world had the means of detection. The light that would reach you now dates back to the time before we even started using radio waves, and it might be another fifty Earth years before you would begin receiving our most primitive radio signals." "Plus there's the fact that the government cut the funding for SETI a long time ago," Mark pointed out with a wince, "My Dad used to argue it was a waste of time and money..." "For us it would be," Mar-Sa assured them, "It was only about a hundred of your years before Radio was replaced with the Subspace Quantum Relay Net that we now use for all our worldwide communications, commonly known as Ether Space, or E- space for short." "Wow," Cathy said, "Talk about your Star Trek terminology..." "More and more you intrigue me," Heather smiled, "But again I am compelled to ask why you come to me to explain this? I could think of many far more august bodies that would give a year's funding to represent you." "Yes," Mar-Sa said, "And I would want to meet with them eventually, but...as I am an outcast exile stranded on the shores of your world, I must first establish an identity and a name so that people take me seriously and the government...does not attempt to coopt my services." "Besides which," Phoebe added, "Marsha here wants to make a little...proposal." "Indeed?" Heather mused, "What sort of a...proposal?" "You must understand," Mar-Sa said earnestly, "My world is dying, my people are in danger of becoming extinct, and it is all the fault of our leaders, the High Council, the ruling body of Ninjarma, to say nothing of the other Domed city- states that jointly rule our world. A group calling itself the Keepers governs all of them from the shadows, an ancient order of cabalists whom Kar-Tor believed were the descendants of our original jailers. They deliberately caused the environmental crisis that has doomed all life on our world. They rule by misdirection and subversion, causing us to squabble with each other for the scraps of our resources. They are...evil...as much so as I understand the word, and they are the cause of my own personal suffering, and the reason why I can never return to my homeworld." "Sad story," Cathy remarked, "But what's that got to do with Heather's question?" "Simply this," Mar-Sa replied, "My world has no freedom, no joy, no sex...nothing like what your people take for granted. It is different here...better in most ways, like Wolframa was in the days before the Council. Since coming to your world I have known a level of personal freedom that is unimaginable upon Wolframa, and that is why I want to exercise my freedom, by doing something that, symbolically, would never even be dreamed about by my people." "Which is?" Heather asked. "I want to pose for your magazine," Mar-Sa replied, "To allow you to photograph me, to record my body in every detail and thus prove to the people of your world that I am very much like one of you." Dead silence followed this declaration, and then Cathy broke this silence by saying, "Fuck me!" "Later, Darling," Heather said absently, clearing her throat before asking, "Did I hear you right? You wish to...pose for Playmate Magazine?" "Yes," Mar-Sa nodded, "I mean that exactly." "Ah...not that I would be so foolish as to pass you up on this offer," Heather remarked in tones that showed how she was struggling to maintain her cool, aloof manners, "But...why would you wish to do this? I mean..." "Because posing for you would be an act of freedom, of joy, of life," Mar-Sa replied, "I have studied the photos that you have taken of other women...they exemplify a standard, an ideal, an idea that has been totally forbidden to us...that there is beauty and joy to be found in life, that the body is to be celebrated and admired, not scorned and ridiculed, not a thing of which we should be ashamed." "Amen to all that," Cathy averred, "You've just stated the Playmate Philosophy in a nutshell." "You have read my Bio?" Heather asked. "Phoebe's roommate has a nearly complete collection of all your magazines," Mar- Sa replied, "She says that she...um...reads them for the articles?" "Yeah, that's what she says," Phoebe snorted. "Fascinating," Heather remarked, "If I understand you right, then by posing for us you mean to figuratively thumb your nose at your high council." "Sounds more like spitting in their collective eyes to me," Mark mused, "But what do I know? I'm a guy, and anything I say could get me exterminated." "Only if you contemplate dying in bed with a smile on your lips," Heather mused, "As I'm sure many of the women on my staff would gladly volunteer for such a duty." "So, you wanna pose for Heather's magazine, huh?" Cathy turned to Heather and said, "She's got my vote. In fact, I say we give her Playmate of the Year status. If your Dad could see her now he'd rise up out of his grave and give me a second." "My father would indeed have dearly loved to have lived to see this," Heather said with a somewhat wistful expression, "Mar-Sa...you have impressed me. I respect your intellect and in my eyes you are an unparalleled beauty. If you had the slightest idea of what a financial boon you would be for any magazine..." "I think I do know something about this," Mar-Sa replied, indicating her blonde companion, "Phoebe says that you are a Multi-Media conglomerate, and that you could sell everything from posters to compact disks bearing my image. But there is another reason that I have come to you..." "Uh oh," Cathy said, "Here comes the catch." "I would like to also feature in the other magazine that you consider a special, personal project," Mar-Sa continued, "Would it be possible for me to write articles and have them be published in Cosmos magazine, your science-based publication?" Heather almost fell off her desk as she reacted to that. She managed to recover admirably before saying, "Cathy...I believe I need something strong to drink...now." "That makes two of us," Cathy agreed, getting up out of her chair and heading for a private bar area to mix up some drinks from Heather's personal cabana. Studying the dark haired woman's profile Phoebe was struck by a question and asked, "Um...sorry if I'm being rude here...but...you're not just a personal secretary, huh?" "Took you this long to figure that out?" Cathy half-smirked at Phoebe, "Thought you of all people would understand how it is, Kid, the way you and Marsha here obviously got your own thing going." "Cathy is my...better half," Heather replied, "And yes, I make no secret about that. We've been together now for the past three years and I am more than satisfied with her...skillful performance." "Flattery will get you somewhere, Boss lady," Cathy teased, "So...your name's Phoebe, huh?" "Ah...yeah," Phoebe reluctantly said, wincing slightly. "So, what are you, like her personal agent?" Cathy persisted. "Her agent?" Phoebe blinked, "Well..." "You definitely will need an agent," Heather decided, "And I happen to know some of the best in the business. Of course you will be entitled to royalties and due compensation for everything you do and publish, and a flat up-front fee that can be negotiated to your liking..." "Yes," Mar-Sa agreed, "All that and more are the reason I have come to you. I have researched you well enough to know that you are fair and treat your employees well and are honorable in your financial dealings..." "I'm flattered that you think this way about me," Heather replied, "And I will certainly attempt to do justice towards you. In truth the idea of having you appear in both of my premier magazines is a concept that I fairly salivate to see happen, and with a story such as yours to champion, there is every certainty that I will make a considerable fortune advancing your image, words and all merchandise that could conceivably be made in your likeness. To think of having a living, breathing alien superhero in our midst and...what are you doing, Cathy?" "Just checking around," Cathy glanced up, down and around the room before saying, "The way this conversation is headed, I almost expect to see us framed in comic book panel borders." "Know the feeling," Phoebe sniffed. "Been there," Mark smiled, "Done that, own the rights to the movie." "This is what I was hoping for," Mar-Sa remarked, "And with your financial support I will be able to pursue a legal case for seeking sanctuary in your country, to say nothing of giving me the means for a decent living." "So, in making me rich you help yourself out, eh?" Heather grinned as she stepped forward and offered her hand once again, "I believe that I can live with that. Very well, Mar-Sa, welcome to the team. I know that it will be a distinctive pleasure to work with you, and anything that I can do to make your stay upon our world a happy one, don't hesitate to ask." "Thank you, Ms. Holberg..." Mar-Sa began to say. "Call me Heather," the blonde publisher replied, "We don't stand on formalities here. In fact my father established a policy to be casually informal, and I've long valued the sense of closeness that it brings between me and my people." "Those girls downstairs?" Mark asked, "I thought those were models..." "Most of them are," Cathy replied, "Like me they started out that way and then stayed on to get jobs, and now we're one big happy family here, with stock options and gratuities each time our pictorials get showcased." "A family?" Mar-Sa mused, then smiled, "I think I would very much like that." "Then it is decided," Heather smiled, "Cathy, make the arrangements. We'll have our lawyers draw up the necessary papers later after you have had time to settle in. I assume you have a place where you are currently staying?" "Ah...not at the moment," Mar-Sa replied, "For a time we were staying at Phoebe's place, but lately...we've had to move around a lot to avoid the government, and Mark...ah, I mean, Action..." "I'm kind of a drifter," Mark explained, "I go where the mood takes me." "A real loner type, huh?" Cathy mused, "So...you wanna play the mystery man or tell us who you really are behind that...costume?" "Ah...for now I'd rather stay anonymous," Mark replied, "I've got family I don't want to get involved in any of this, and I'd rather keep a low profile in my civilian ID, thank you." "Then you can stay in the mansion for a few days while we set everything up," Heather decided, "And do not fear for the authorities, they would need a court order to find you here, and...somehow I doubt that they would have much luck in apprehending you. I look forward to a long and productive session, and I am definitely interested in hearing the rest of your story." "Thank you," Mar-Sa nodded, "That is most generous, and it would be nice to rest for a while in such...interesting surroundings." "Stay in the Playmate Mansion for a few nights?" Phoebe blinked, "Talk about dreams coming true..!" "And what about you?" Heather asked as she turned to regard Phoebe, "Do you want to be included in the article about your friend, or are you also concerned about remaining an unknown?" "Me?" Phoebe said, "I'm basically with Marsha. I'll do whatever it takes to help her out, and if you need a name to go with the face, well...there's a few people I'd rather not hear about me, though I'm pretty sure the government already knows what I look like." "I was thinking more about including you in the eventual pictorial," Heather explained, "Since you seem to be a major part of her story, it seems natural to have you be seen as her earthly companion." "Me?" Phoebe blinked again, "You...wanna photograph me?" "Hey, why not?" Cathy smiled, "You've got a nice face and a pretty good body, and from what I can see you two go together like two peas in a pod. Besides, if we're going to show just how human your girlfriend is, then what better way than to show you both together." "Unless you believe that may be too much of an intrusion into your personal life, of course," Heather noted, "At this point I am thinking of all the possible options. In fact, a photo-shoot as important as this will require the talents of a Master." "Gotcha, Boss lady," Cathy smiled as she handed her employer another drink, "I'll get Luigi on the phone, I just know he'd rather die than miss this assignment." "Luigi?" Phoebe blinked, "You don't mean...Luigi Cozi?" "The genius himself," Heather replied, "He always handles our better models when they pose, and he is a true master at bringing out the full potential of even the most average beauty. Believe me when I say, Mar-Sa, you could not be in any better hands." "That's good to know," Mar-Sa replied, "Because I really am trusting you to help me establish myself and make a name for the future. I know that there will be some who question my actions no matter what I do, but I think that this is the correct path for me, and I thank you for giving me a haven, even if it's only for a few days." "Um...does anyone mind if I hang around for a bit?" Mark asked, "I promise I'll not be a bother..." "Only if you would like yourself to pose for a spread yourself," Heather replied. "What?" Mark blinked. "Just kidding," Heather smiled with a teasing expression that made her lovely features seem even more youthful. "Just remember to keep your tongue inside your mouth, Pal," Cathy smiled, "Or you'll probably trip over it, and some of the women on our staff can be real man-eaters." "I'll...try and keep that in mind," Mark said, still looking somewhat disquieted, only to glance to the side and snap, "Keep out of this, 'Zak!" "'Zak?" Heather repeated. "Short for Isaac," Phoebe explained, "But don't worry, you can't see him." "He's got an imaginary friend called 'Zak?" Cathy asked. "It's...kind of a long story," Mark replied with a shrug, "I'd rather not go into it if it's all the same to you ladies." "Then perhaps you might answer for me one question that has been bothering me for a while now," Heather remarked, "Just why are you wearing such a tasteless color design? It looks like something out of a comic book..." "Why does everybody always say that?" Mark frowned, his state of mind in no way improved by the laughter that he received from all of the women present, including Mar-Sa... (Chapters 12-19) (First Copyrights Only) Created and Written by Jim Robert Bader, all rights reserved, characters and situations are purely fictitious and are not based on persons living or dead (with the sole exception of Katie, whose voluntary contributions are deeply appreciated). Mar-Sa, the Ultra-Girl, is the creation of Jim Robert Bader with ideas and suggestions provided by his friends and collaborators, Katie Norcross (the REAL Kate Cross) and Bill Guiroff, with additional ideas and suggestions provided by Ed Dear III, who took a liking to Mark Daniels. All rights reserved; the characters and situations here are fictitious and are not intended to depict persons living and dead (other than Katie that is). This is a rough draft, subject to future alterations if I should find a publisher friendly enough to sponsor this series. Any resemblance to copyrighted or trademarked ideas belonging to other authors is purely coincidental. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- 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.