With 960 square miles of territory the Hanford site is large enough to require “town” names to identify places within it. The Manhattan Project has chosen to use mostly women’s names. So there are places like Ruth, Edna, and Susie, which are nothing more than railroad junctions, really. The clinic is only a mile north of Helen, which is really just a large electrical substation and a cluster of warehouses.

Kim and Hunky are steered away from the Mulberry trees along the river by the electric fence and gravel pits connected by a maze of unpaved roads that make up the relative highlands of Nancy. There is a single rail line crossing the area from southwest to northeast.

The girls veer off the gradually ascending scrub-brush plain into a newly dug mile-long trench intended to hold contaminated water from the Q West reactor. This is a mistake, and Kim starts to get antsy. After they walk about halfway down the huge ditch, which is only wide enough to hold perhaps four cars side-by-side, a pair of headlights appears ahead and turns to line up on them directly.

Kim and Hunky throw themselves flush against the gritty trench walls. They could feel the cool moistness of the face of newly-exposed gravel, and smell the flinty odor of…flint. The tiny rocks are somewhere between sand and small pebbles in size, and they are held together loosely by a sheen of underground moisture.

Hunky thought about climbing, but she discovered it would be useless to try because she saw the gravel face is unstable. In some places clods of dirt and gravel are actually overhanging, easily knocked down by the brush of a hand. In other places a single scrape would unleash a miniature slide of loose gravel, the tiny rocks piling around their feet. But that right there gave Hunky an idea. She began scraping the walls of the trench and deliberately pulling the gravel down over herself.

A third light mounted on the windshield and hand-operated by the driver is sweeping methodically up and down the slopes of the gravel pit as the vehicle slowly advances.

Hunky pulls Kim close to her until they are close enough to kiss. They both scrape at the walls until enough gravel has collapsed to leave only their heads and one arm free, each.

Don’t ask me how I know this will work, I just know it will. Put your mouth against mine, Kim. My body will supply the air you need to breathe.

Then, as the MP’s white jeep approaches very close Kim and Hunky engage in a kiss. Hunky completes their self-burial, hoping the soldier is too intent studying the sides of the trench to glance at the little ongoing rockslide ahead. Since the newly-dug trench is pretty unstable anyway there are many such piles of gravel along the walls.

Kim calms herself as much as possible, and breathes what Hunky gives her. Hunky, in turn, breathes what Kim gives her. It wasn’t anything sexy, but it did seem to work. Like Kim’s ability to see the future there is no immediate explanation for how it worked or even how Hunky knew it would work.

After a few minutes of being buried alive Kim and Hunky push back through the gravel and tentatively take a breath. They dare no loud gasping, because the jeep is still very near, moving away maddeningly slow. But the red glow of tail-lights means that it has indeed passed by. In fact the driver did not even give the brand-new little landslides a second look, he was checking the nooks between the landslides where he figured someone could hide. Kim and Sophie patiently and quietly recover. The crisis of the first security sweep has passed.

After the guard’s jeep leaves them far behind Kim and Hunky continue on their way east along the dry floor of the future waste-water sump. Their ordeal has not gotten them very dirty. The gravel they had buried themselves in was a lot like wet sand at the beach, only with bigger grains.

After about fifteen minutes of walking they stand where the jeep had been when they had first seen its lights. Railroad tracks were there. A white sign said “Bettie” in stenciled letters. Kim and Hunky decided to walk along the tracks, and though they didn’t know it, the tracks are a good choice, because they would cross no trip wires, and there was no road paralleling the track, paved or not.

Two miles to the south across a sagebrush plain many yellow lights illuminate Hanford’s main cluster of tritium production reactors. They are preparing the Fat Boy bomb that would be used on Japan on August 9, 1945.

At about 300 AM the girls reach the halfway point across the wide, flat tongue of land they are crossing formed by a northerly bend of the Columbia River. They reach a major rail junction identified on a sign as Ginger as well as a cluster of paved roads. In the distance to the southeast a few approaching vehicles can be seen by their headlights so Kim and Hunky hide behind some rolling stock on a Ginger side track.

They choose a low brown Union Pacific gondola car to climb into. With many other identical railroad cars sitting around it was a good place for them to hide as long as they laid down out of sight.

Even if we do manage to escape somehow, they will never stop looking for us. So you are going to have to change your name just like I did from Sophie to Hunky.

You’re right. From now on call me Robyn. With a ‘y’. But I’ll never risk going to a judge to make it official.

Exactly right there, in that empty railroad car when Kimberly Zinter changed her name to just Robyn, the order of the B’nei Elohim was born.

ROBYN (after a long moment of silence)
Dory isn’t like you, Hunky. I know you know that.

Hunky crawls back in the gondola car to get as far away from Robyn as she can.

None of your business. Robyn.

She will never tell you so, because she cares about you more than she cares about herself. And that’s exactly why I love her.

That’s exactly why I love her too.

Okay, Hunky. So what I’m asking here is, never let her have to decide to throw away a lifetime of happiness for herself just to make you happy. All right? She doesn’t deserve that.

Hunky says nothing, but just nods her head.

Out in the night the army police are setting up a tripod. Television has been nearly perfected, but World War II intervened just before the technology could be rolled out to the public. Soon after the war TV would replace radio as the main source of family home entertainment. In the hands of the army, television permitted a kind of night vision. A bulky television camera could be modified to respond to heat rather than light, and when the image was displayed on a CRT, warm bodies would stand out in the night.

Once the camera was mounted on the tripod the soldiers stared at the green screen and began slowly sweeping the horizon all around Ginger. The dark boxes of many railroad cars crept across the screen. There was a pair of infrared sources out there in one car, but the cold steel walls shielded them well.

It was 330 AM. The second sweep by the military police was over and they bundled up their primitive night-scope and drove away.

Kimberly Zinter had crawled into a rail car with Sophie Krause to hide from the Army but both of the girls were forever dead. Only Robyn and Hunky crawl out and go on.

They decide to stick with the train tracks and continue northeast. If anyone came again, with any luck they could hide in another one of the scattered rail cars. In a mile they reach a place where the tracks, a paved road, and a gravel road all come together. Now the gravel one ran parallel to the tracks on their right, making the girls feel a little exposed.

A half-mile after that a paved road took its place alongside. They both could see a hint of the coming dawn in the eastern skies. Robyn senses the available choices are becoming fewer and fewer.

The rail curves sharply north, then northwest for a quarter of a mile, then north again for about fifty feet before coming to a dead end. Here was an old forgotten boxcar, forlorn in the dim gray light of 5 o’clock in the morning. Now Robyn senses clearly that there were only two paths open to them. They can hide in the boxcar and wait to be picked up, or they can hoof it across the sand.

They see a line of white cliffs about two miles to the east and guess that was the far bank of the river. They begin to grow hideously exposed and the light is getting slowly but steadily brighter. There is little else to do but to make for the water again and hope to find somewhere to hide.

They strike east. In eight hundred feet they cross a row of fence posts and trip over a single wire. The army has them on their lighted map again.

Five minutes after tripping the outer picket they cross a wide paved road on the brink of a gentle slope down to the river. They hear sirens. Blue flashing lights are visible to the north and south. Almost the entire Hanford police force is closing in like the jaws of a steel trap. Robyn and Hunky run downhill toward the river, kicking up sand. They meet that old electric fence again, and drop to worm themselves under the bottom wire. They hear dogs but once they get to the other side of the fence they figure they wouldn’t have to worry about them.

When they girls get their first good look at the river current they both know they are in luck. Here it was not too fast and not too slow. Robyn senses they have completely run out of other options. So Robyn carves out for herself a new option by simply wading straight out into the water, and Hunky follows her. A grin breaks out on the faces of both girls. They are pleasantly surprised. It being the late summer, the water has baked in the sun behind a dam twenty miles upstream, and behind another dam before that. So it wasn’t too cold. More like old bath water.

At this particular stretch the great river slows and silt piles up to form several islands. Seven miles per hour. It wasn’t the dangerous speed of the whitewater at the rapids upstream, but it also wasn’t still water backed up behind a dam, which would force them to swim for it. There was even a wide zone shallow enough to permit Robyn and Hunky to touch their feet on the bottom now and again. But their bobbing heads are very visible in the brightening dawn. There is a hard splash in the water a fraction of a second before they hear the sharp report of a rifle.

Up until that point it has been almost a game for Robyn and Hunky. It never occurred to them at all that they would be the target of shooters. Quickly they both dive under the water and repeat the same breathing trick that worked so well at the gravel pit. When they come back up again they hope they are beyond rifle range. But the southern group of MPs are getting out of their jeeps to look at the river with rifles in hand, and the girls are coming up on them fast. So they submerge once more.

One of the itchy trigger fingers on the bank thinks he sees something and fires a round. The sound of his shot sparks a barrage of blind fire by the other men. Robyn and Hunky pass through a gauntlet of instantly forming white bubble-lines as dozens of bullets lace the water. After they surface again well downstream it is followed by almost two hours of drifting along with their eyes darting and scanning the shore before the river carries them past a roadless marsh and they can begin to relax.

At the first community downriver from the Hanford site Robyn and Hunky crawl out of the water and shiver for an hour, dangerously near hypothermia as they dry out in the bright morning sun on the right bank of the Columbia River, just below the first few houses on the northern edge of the brand new town of Richland. Still soggy, their shoes squish as they slog their way through back yards and side streets and emerge on a thoroughfare named George Washington Way. In the bottom of one of Hunky’s shoes is a twentydollar bill from her mother, sent by mail on her birthday and it is all the money they had. But it is enough to get some food and a bus ticket home.

They called it Domestic Enemies Containment, Observation, and Neutralization. DECON was created in 1942 to administer the internment of JapaneseAmerican citizens in the western United States. Later, Italian-Americans came under DECON’s surveillance, but they were not officially detained, thus revealing the essentially racist nature of the program. German Wehrmacht prisoners of war, however, were shipped to the United States and detained in DECON camps. And when Nazi agents attempted to commit sabotage inside the borders of the United States they were also placed in the custody of DECON for “questioning” after which they were summarily shot. As a result of these interrogations, DECON thought it prudent to develop dossiers on every US citizen of German descent.

Three times in 1944 DECON agents interrogate Dory and Jerry about Kim and Hunky. Two of these interviews are in an individual setting and one interrogation occurs when they are playing in Jerry’s backyard tree house.
During the second one-on-one interrogation Jerry and Dory almost break when the DECON agents lie about the prognosis of Kim and Hunky and claim they are very nearly dead. But soon after that they both get new and recently written letters and the DECON agents are revealed to be liars.

In the letters Kim reveals (in Relbimian of course) that both she and Hunky are being unfairly treated by Doctor Trochmann and his team at the clinic, so she orders Jerry and Dory to say nothing about the white dome with needles hidden under the Temple sanctuary. Since Relbimian is a language the Boda created from scratch from their earlier days together it was almost as secure as a one time pad and there is little chance DECON would decipher it unless one or more of them break.

During the final interrogation of Dory and Jerry a DECON agent invades their tree house, one who is an expert at reading body language, to look for any signs of collusion between Jerry and Dory. The interview turns sour very quickly. After a few minutes of their intransigence the DECON fellow says he thinks recent high school graduates were too old to be playing in a tree fort. And to drive home his point he unveils an army draft notice with the name of Jerry Shybear on it.

I can make this go away if you say how Kim and Sofia might have gotten sick. Otherwise you show up at the draft board tomorrow morning.

Honestly, sir, I’ve told you everything I know.

Dory, will you help the gentleman out? War is hell. You might not ever see him ever again after tomorrow.

Dory has nothing to say. Orders are orders. So the DECON guy shrugs and places the draft notice in Jerry’s hand.

Suit yourself, son. Go kill some Japs. Then he leaves the tree house in a huff. He would have tried a bit harder if he hadn’t thought pushing the kids was really like drilling a dry hole. But orders are orders.

Jerry’s father had been eager to Germans in France in the Great War, but Jerry didn’t want to kill Japs or anyone else for that matter. He was willing to take his chances with the draft lottery the same as the next fellow, but apparently DECON can pull strings behind the scenes and rig the game. Jerry just wants to stay home and wait for something to break so he can see Kim and Hunky again. There is only one thing he can do but he is embarrassed to ask Dory for help so Jerry suggests a game of Cartel instead.

And by Cartel I mean strip Cartel of course.

That raises the stakes a notch from losing little colored pieces of paper. The dice fly high, and round and round the board they go. Soon Jerry buys up 42nd Street, Broadway, and Park Avenue, and all he needs is Wall Street for a Cartel. Dory scoops up the Appian Way, the Burma Road, and Easy Street, and all she needs is the Yellow Brick Road for her Cartel. But all along Dory is puzzled that Jerry wants to play a stupid game when he has just been drafted into the military. She doesn’t seem to have her heart in it. After a while Dory also gets a half-Cartel going with Mulholland Drive and Sunset Boulevard, but she also buys Bourbon Street and Main Street on a whim, and soon she is short on cash.

As the game continues they both get serious Cartels going but Jerry has some lucky rolls and avoids landing on any of Dory’s properties, while Dory keeps landing on Jerry’s stuff and starts to have a serious cash flow problem. She auctions off her belt and nylons for a little breathing space. After that Dory starts landing on Jerry’s Cartels over and over again and she is methodically stripped of most of her cash. She starts showing more and more skin to stay in the game. Soon Jerry owns Dory’s dark yellow dress with white polka dots, and when she lands on Jerry’s properties again he gets her knit rayon undies and bra.

But Dory rallies a little bit near the end. The properties associated with her knee socks and little black Mary Jane shoes, which Jerry doesn’t want, are enough to complete a second Cartel, creating a kind of death row on her side of the board. Soon Jerry is shirtless, and after another round Dory demands his pants. But Jerry simply puts on Dory’s bra and dress, and when he is sufficiently covered, he drops trou and hands them over.

A man shalt not wear that which pertaineth to a woman. For all who do so are an abomination to the Lord!

But Jerry isn’t having any of that. When he lands on the second part of Dory’s Death Row with no more cash, Dory demands his underwear, which he duly hands over. The game is over, but he totally is fine with that, because under the cover of Dory’s yellow dress he slips into her panties and nylons and together with her bra he has everything he was looking for. He bids the girl adieu and leaves the tree fort with only his own sneakers covering his feet.Using mostly back alleys, he goes directly to the nearby house of the only homosexual he knows, Aaron Anton, and knocks.

Aaron is quite a specimen of male beauty and he is a little famous in his own way. He has posed in various styles of Jockey underwear for an illustrated catalog. When Aaron answers the door and sees Jerry standing there he is shocked for a minute.

No, no, Jerry, you’re doing it all wrong. Come in, I’ll show you what I mean.

In the bedroom Aaron methodically removes all of Dory’s clothes that Jerry had won in Cartel and drops them on the floor.

You know what we’re both here for, right? So what’s all of this girl shit, Jerry? That’s right, lose the nylons, then get your ass into bed.

Aaron notices Jerry is shivering from fear. So he changes his plan a little bit. Fucking a scared little squirrel isn’t his idea of a good time. So the first part of the ordeal is getting Jerry flushed out with an enema, and then lubed up. Aaron is really generous with that bottle. And when he is penetrated by Aaron there is severe pain, despite the young man’s attempt to break him in gently. But growing from deep under the pain is a profoundly transcendental ecstasy. Jerry doesn’t even realize he is getting direct stimulation of his prostate. He can almost understand why Aaron does what he does. Sweating from the pain, Jerry writhes on the bed until Aaron boils over inside him.

First time, huh? You’re a natural bottom, Jerry.

To Aaron’s disappointment, however, Jerry is unable to reciprocate in the same way. The body hair, the muscles, it just doesn’t click. When Aaron was inside him Jerry remembered it felt like he wanted to drop a deuce and that just wasn’t sexy at all. So Aaron shrugs and has Jerry lay on his back to pleasure him orally. Jerry lets his back arch, legs stiffen, eyes roll, and mouth lie wide open as he feels a release better and strangely different than anything he has ever done for himself.

This is Jerry’s first sex with anyone. He had no idea it would be like that. As he lies there in his sore bliss he is willing to let Kim go her own way so he could spend his entire life with Aaron Anton and he says as much. But Aaron just pats Jerry’s ass with affection, lights a cigarette, and speaks with a decadent purr.
AARON Not much chance of that, boyo. I don’t care about who I fuck, I only care about who else I fuck.

So Jerry scoops up Dory’s clothes, thanks Aaron for the little visit, gets dressed, and leaves. The next day he shows up at the draft board and when he strips for his medical examination they see him standing there wearing Dory’s pink panties and bra. The doctor is a local who was drafted himself.

You want to tell me about it, son?

Jerry looks down at himself, then catches the doctor’s eye.

I guess I’m a, waddya callitt, homosexual.

The Army NCO in charge of the processing station has heard this sort of thing before. The slackers always think it’s an easy way out of getting drafted.

Okay, son, then who’s your boyfriend?

Aaron Anton.

That checks out. We had that Aaron Anton guy in here last month. Queer as a football bat.

Everyone in town knows that Aaron Anton is queer as a football bat. Okay, Jerry, tell us something only his fuck buddy would know.

He’s got a funny birthmark. His whole dick is red, like it’s got a rash.

You could have seen that in the gym class locker room.

Jerry shakes his head.

No, there’s an age difference. Anton was out of high school before Shybear here ever became a freshman.

So the doctor stamps Jerry’s paperwork 4F, which means he can stay home.

Get yourself some help son.

He speaks with a trace of disgust. Before 1973 homosexuality was considered a pathology by the medical community, perhaps a bit like schizophrenia.

The Army is still scouring Hanford for Robyn and Hunky. It does not occur to DECON to watch the bus stations out of the nearest three towns until later that afternoon. The river has carried the girls much farther downstream than anyone could have walked in the same span of time, all at the relatively small expense of some wrinkled prune fingertips for both of them and a ruined dress for Kim.

By noon the girls are on a bus and well on their way back home to Greendome. Robyn’s greatest desire is to rush into the arms of her mother, but her new precognitive abilities tell her the authorities would go there first, and in fact they already have her house staked out. The same is true for Hunky’s house. They would be caught and it would be right back to Hanford. So while they sit on the bus making their way east at the wartime top speed limit of just 35 MPH, Robyn spends the seemingly endless time turning the dwindling options over in her mind.

Peter Twofeathers sits in his office in the Green Dome Temple pouring through the Buron, trying to find spiritual guidance on what he should do in the present circumstances, with the Church itself on the very cusp of schism.Then he remembers how Yeshua commanded his followers constantly to pray, so he pushes the Buron across the desk, clasps his hands, and leans forward in silent conversation with God. A yin knocks when he’s in the middle of his prayer and stares at him, as if sha’s afraid sha’s interrupting something. Sha has white hair, as though she were elderly, yet her face is much smoother, as though sha were only in her forties.

God prefers it when you pray out loud, Peter Twofeathers. It takes more faith to do that, and truth be told, God can’t really read your mind.

PETER (annoyed)
And you are?

She comes further into the office and stands directly in front of his desk.



Or Haziel, if you prefer.

Sure lady.

It is a wicked generation that demands a sign.

Sha reaches into his file cabinet, where he has stashed the Golden Gift, and retrieves it, despite the fact that it was locked.

The one and only Golden Gift. Please come in, children.

Soon Haziel is flanked by Dory and Jerry, who come into the office carrying their own chairs. Haziel pulls up the chair in front of Peter’s desk and all three of them have a seat.

Give the relic back to me or I will call the police!

HAZIEL (shaking har head)
I gave this gadget to Chief Wanica personally and now I’m giving it to his descendant. Do the magic trick I showed you, Jerry.

Sha hands the Golden Gift to the boy, who is wearing short sleeves. He wiggles his fingers and the weapon is gone. Jerry opens his hands to show Peter they are empty.

Peter is now convinced Haziel really is God and starts a comedic struggle out of his seat to find some floor space to drop to his knees before har.

Belay that, Peter. Sit back down.

PETER (sitting)
Command me, Lady Haziel.

Do you know these children?

Jerry Shybear I do know. The girl, no. I mean, I’ve seen her face, but I can’t put a name to it.

This is Dory Fuchs. Dory and Jerry are friends of Kimberly Zinter and Sophie Krause. Kim and Sophie have been held against their will by the American government, but they have escaped, and they are coming home, but they are going to need your help. I’ll let Dory explain the particulars of that to you. Also, I have an idea about what you should say in your next sermon.I happen to think your doctrine of only letting cousins get married is stupid, but I’ll let Jerry explain the particulars of that to you.

And with that, Haziel was just gone, taking her chair with her. Dory and Jerry scoot their own chairs closer together in the sudden gap, fold their hands, set them on the desk, and smile at Peter.

In Pocatello when she and Hunky transfer to a bus that will take them into Wyoming, Robyn realizes the homes of everyone who had written to her and Hunky must also be staked out. Both girls remember that their mail was always opened and read before it was given to them, so they have no doubt DECON has logged the address of each sender. That rules out going to see Dory and Jerry, at least directly. And Robyn guesses DECON has the bus station in Greendome staked out as well, waiting for them.

If you get off the bus closer than Caspar you’re going to get caught.

Robyn hears that in her mind. Hunky must have heard it too. They suddenly catch each other’s eye. Robyn voices Dory’s name mentally.

Yeah, me and Jerry are like you two now.

Hunky smiles at something Dory is telling her that Robyn can’t hear.

DORY (to Robyn)
Jerry says he’s missed you terribly and he wants to know if you will marry him.

ROBYN (after a pause)
Tell Jerry he’s very sweet but he already knows that’s against the rules.

What if the rules were changed, would you agree to marry him?

A longer pause here. Robyn thinks on how so much has changed for her and her friends over the last few weeks.Why would it be so hard to believe the Church would change its rules and let anyone get married, not just cousins? Then Robyn sees it. It’s much easier to just coast along and assume the Church will never change than to face the scary possibility that Jerry loved her, or the even more scary possibility that she loved him too.She takes a leap into the dark.

If Jerry can get me and Hunky out of this jam and convinces Twofeathers to let us get married, then he will have proven to be my champion and yes I will marry him!

Toward the end of the week after Chokhmah had “infected” Dory with the Change, some of the benefits Hunky had discovered during the captivity at Hanford became available to Dory as well. They decided to see how this affected their sex.

I have to come right out and tell you, Hunky. I’m no longer a practicing homosexual.

Hunky looks a little worried for a moment.

Why do you say that?

Because now I’m so damn good at it!

They slowed themselves down by a factor of five or even a hundred to make their orgasm and even the good stuff leading up to it seem to last that much longer. This alone took everything to a whole new level, but that was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to what the Purple Cable would do for them only a day later.

The next morning the girls wake up to find Dory’s nano bud has sprung open, revealing the same fifty-five pins that appeared on Robyn, Hunky, and the church mouse they found. Now they attach themselves together with the Purple Cable and discover what they take to calling the Sharing.

Come on, Hunky. This will work a hell of a lot better without your jeans.

Tentatively, Dory peels them down her lover’s legs and lets Hunky kick them the rest of the way off.

DORY (gasping)

With the Purple Cable hooked up Hunky knows Dory believes that to be absolutely true. There can be no deception. Even with her knees somewhat apart Hunky’s muscular thighs touch together, but that is exactly the way Dory wants them to be.

Dory kisses Hunky’s legs and inner thighs gently, then kisses her tummy along the top of her cotton panties, and at each step she does exactly what Hunky wanted done to herself. In a way, being hooked up to Dory, Hunky was doing it to herself. Then Dory kisses Hunky through her white underwear directly on her damp sex. She savors the smell of her, and because there can be nothing hidden with the Purple Cable, Hunky knows that Dory really does love the smell of her, simply by sharing the experience and enjoying it herself.

Dory uses her teeth to slide Hunky’s undies down off her ankles and then Hunky reverses herself, taking the sixty-nine position. Her solid thighs are splayed over Dory’s face, so what to do? Dory begins to kiss them. She licks the two creases where Hunky’s legs join together, and finally she nuzzles the textured lips of Hunky’s slightly parted slit.

But with the Purple Cable, Hunky also literally is Dory, and she thinks that it is herself who is somehow on bottom doing the licking. When she is licking Dory it feels like she is licking herself. And Dory also feels she is somehow also on top licking her original self.

So with the Purple Cable there is no border between her own sensations as ‘Dory’ licking and being licked, and her sensations as Dory-being-Hunky licking and being licked. And there was no border between Hunky’s sensations as Hunky licking and being licked, and Hunky’s sensations as Hunky-being-Dory licking and being licked. It becomes a swirling stew of identities where Hunky and Dory are being mixed up into each other, lost in each other, until their names actually floated free of the identities they were attached to.

They jam their faces tighter into each other’s pulsing hips and thighs. Their body image literally becomes one as they simultaneously clamber into each other and at the same time are clambered into. The pleasure is continuous and climbs inexorably upward. The instant feedback of the Purple Cable seems to synchronize them. They rise in tension together, and their last fully voluntary act is to decouple their consciousness from their bodies, so they could savor what was happening at a rate five times slower than what was coming up their spinal cord.

Then there is a gasp.

Oh honey.

It is all she can manage to say. There’s a separation. She is Dory now, her name has returned to her. She is having her orgasm and her mind automatically and selfishly gathers every scrap of pleasure to burn leaving little to share. The intensity of her sweet burning wells up and goes absolutely right off the dial. Dory arches her back and every muscle in her body locks up for a moment. There’s no breathing, no thought, and her eyes stare at a white nothing. Then she bends her head back into the blankets and commences thrashing and moaning as every nerve ending in her toes, her fingers, her face, and her scalp begin to fire with white hot signals of ecstasy. The pleasure feels like it is scrubbing every cell in her body.

But catching just the periphery of Dory’s white-hot supernova immediately triggers the other identity to have a climax of her own. In that instant she is Hunky again. And all the pleasure she’d experienced up to that moment had given her no clue that there was capacity for much, much more. So Hunky’s joy goes right off the charts too.

Then with stately precision their bodies synchronize together and move from the eye-crossing, toe-pointing ecstatic phase of their orgasm to the meaty part that squeezes out all the pooled blood from their hips.But since they are also cruising at a time reduction factor of five their automatic 0.8 second orgasmic contractions seem to happen every four seconds. Their pelvic muscles open up and clamp down, gather and squeeze, each contraction is like a separate orgasm in its own right. This goes on and on for two minutes. The pleasure is beyond belief, approaching the infinite. It fills every shred of their being even as the waves began to subside. They come down slowly together, caressing, snuggling each other, utterly tuned to each other, and tapering off with the same perfect attentiveness that defined this new kind of lovemaking. When they are finished they can’t even say “Wow.” Hunky and Dory would live almost forever, and for that entire time, all the time, they would have this Sharing.

In the United States of America in World War II there is wartime rationing of gasoline. Most people are entitled to only four gallons of gas a week. But Peter Twofeathers is an important clergyman who has to tend to his flock. He is allowed a Supplemental Mileage Ration C sticker which gives him up to an additional twelve gallons a week, the same bonus as doctors and mail carriers. That’s a lucky thing, because his Chrysler Town and Country wagon only gets about fifteen miles per gallon, even with its relatively lightweight wooden doors. But it’s enough to get over to Caspar and back. As soon as Peter makes his decision to do it, Robyn sees the way out of the trap as a vivid daydream in her mind.

That Sunday morning in Temple, Prophet Peter Twofeathers relates testimony on how he was immersed in prayer over the struggles of the Green Dome Church and God appeared to him personally. A quiet murmuring comes over the congregation as the flock tries to determine if he is joking or quite serious. They realize Peter is very serious when he describes how God went straight to where he had hidden the Golden Gift, retrieved it, and gave it to the Church’s new Extraordinary Lay Minister of Final Rites, Jerry Shybear. And Jerry takes that as his cue to come walking out onto the raised area before the altar carrying the gold relic on a plush green pillow.

The Bunners start standing up in their pews and making their way to the aisles so they can leave the service.

Twofeathers goes on to say that God thinks the Church doctrines on consanguineous marriage are, in Haziel’s own words, “stupid”.The trickle of departing Bunners turns into a flood.When Peter Twofeathers declares that he is setting aside that doctrine in a single case, so that Jerry Shybear may marry Kimberly Zinter, the Apostle Klaus Hansen stands up at last and joins the rest of the Bunners in leaving the sanctuary, never to return again.