Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1537443-GALACTIC-GUNSLINGER
Rated: 13+ · Other · Sci-fi · #1537443
Who says a gunslinger must be - human?

Report T001-04B, Circuit 239-0007 Earth date: 1881 AD. Have established contact with local indigenous intelligent life and proceeding to insert my presence into their organized society to study their social standards and potential aggressive tendencies per order of Supreme Council Edict 109A55597B62.  Have assumed human form in order to accomplish this mission. End Report # T001-04B.

I sent the signal to command headquarters and sat back with a relieved sigh. I did not volunteer for this mission - my last - and was not looking forward to it. The semi- intelligent beings on this planet are difficult to understand and their physical form takes considerable practice in order to manipulate their appendages properly. I took over the body and mind of one of the animals several weeks ago and am still learning how to control it.

Their language is utterly horrible. Far too many similar sounds are used to communicate, and the nuances and inflections are difficult to master. Finding the proper word or word groupings from the limited vocabulary of my human host has become a veritable chore and I have to constantly revert to implanted knowledge. Plus, my present hosts’ physical appetites are repulsive and his mannerisms, when compared to previously implanted knowledge, are barbaric.

This small town located in the western part of a large continent was called Purgatory. My mission (My last-mission-hallelujah) was to observe the inhabitants and advise the Council if the elimination of this race was necessary for the good of the galactic community.

As I rode down the dusty streets on the back of the smelly animal they called a horse, I was aware of several things. The population was sparse, the inhabitants unfriendly, and my human butt was sore from bouncing up and down. What a disgusting and uncomfortable way to travel, especially as the strange animal extruded an enormous exhaust of smelling manure every chance it got.

Spying a catering establishment, I dismounted from the mangy animal and entered the building through two swinging doors, emerging into a dark and smelly room full of humans. They eyed me with suspicion, fear, and distrust as I sauntered up to the bar.

"What’ll it be?" asked a heavy set human with amazingly long sideburns on his red face. My unhappy host advised me to ask for beer, which I did. While I sipped my disgusting brew, I read the bartenders thoughts. He was thinking that I was an outlaw and a gunslinger. The gunslinger part sounded good, people would respect and fear me, but the outlaw part was not in keeping with my mission goals. I needed an aura of respectability if the locals were to confide in me.

"Royce J. Cunningham the 14th," I replied, answering the barkeepers unspoken question in the best English accent I could remember studying. "I’m the fifth son of the Earl of Nottingham. I thought I’d see how you Yanks live here in the Wild West, so to speak." I used knowledge of an interesting English Lord I had previously implanted.

It took a while for the barkeeper to close his mouth, which had dangled wide open as my introduction was made. When he had regained his composure he looked me up and down with a suspicious and hostile glare.

"Lord Fauntelroy is it?" he replied. "Well, I’m Paddy O’Shea, and we don’t cotton to English Lords in this neck of the woods. Besides, you don’t look like a lord, more like a mangy flea bitten low life if you’d be asking me."

My image in the large mirror behind the bar bespoke the truth of what the man was saying. The host I had taken over was definitely on the ruffled side. A nice looking human specimen but somewhat disheveled and in desperate need of grooming. I had also detected a slanderous aspect to the man’s response.

I grabbed the man by the front of his dirty plaid shirt with one hand and lifted him several feet off the floor while taking a sip of the cheap brew with the other. My host would never have had the physical power to do such a feat but my enhanced physical abilities made it quite simple.

"I have been on the lonesome trail for many months good sir," I stated, staring the shocked man in the eyes. "I am in need a bath, clean clothing and a bit of human kindness." I abruptly let him fall to the floor where he scampered away in sudden fear.

"Welcome to Purgatory," a soft voice spoke behind me. As I turned, I encountered a female of the species looking at me with curiosity and a bit of anxiety. She was the epitome of human female essence. Shining auburn hair, well-proportioned, long slender legs, and her bosom was more than ample; it was pouring from the confines of her bodice. The storage capacity in those mammary sacks would be sufficient to suckle half a dozen offspring. The sudden physical reaction in my host’s groin felt strange yet exilirating.

"Thank you," I replied, my eyes still on the creature’s awesome swollen bosom.

"Name’s Kitty. If you’re looking for a place to clean up my sister and I run a boarding house next door," she stated, inspecting my haggard clothing. "We also provide food for our guests and for the clientele here at the bar."

I noticed she had a wonderful smelling basket in her hand, which she sat on the bar top. I realized then that I had not fed my host in several days and the body was in dire need of sustenance.

"Lead the way," I said with a wide smile, my eyes still on her very ample bosom.

After a thorough cleaning of the host body that I had appropriated, and a set of clean clothing, I was led into a large room containing several tables. Hungry humans, who looked at me with abject curiosity, occupied two of the tables. I could tell from the physical reaction of the female partner at one table that my appearance had changed dramatically. She exhibited all the signs and smells of wanting to mate with me.

Kitty sat me down at a corner table and left to retrieve my victuals. A strange name Kitty? My information told me that it was the informal name of a small cuddly creature with sharp claws and a loving disposition. Why a human would assume the name I couldn’t grasp?

The food Kitty placed before me was initially revolting to my intelligent mind. It was a large portion of burned animal flesh with a pile of hot tubers and a bowl of odd vegetation. Consumption of animal flesh had been outlawed throughout the Federated Council for generations. My own species thrived on pure energy with no need to burn carbon fuels to sustain us

However, my host body practically went into a trauma at the simmering smells. If I wanted to keep it from dying on me, I would have to give it sustenance, and lots of it. A first bite of the food cast my mind into rebellion. The taste was incredible, the texture was soothing and the reaction from my host body was overpowering. These humans had something going for them with incredible feelings like this. I would have to write a detailed report.

After consuming three full helpings of the awesome food I decided that it was time to end my feeding session before my host body started rejecting it. Also, I could tell from Kitty’s expression that over consumption was a serious social infraction.

"I love a man who eats well," Kitty remarked, as she took the third empty plate from in front of me. It took a bit of effort to withhold the interior gasses that wanted to pour forth from my body, but I detected to release them was a bad social error.

"I could eat your food forever," I replied, glancing again at her ample bosom. I couldn’t keep my eyes or my thoughts off the soft bubbly appendages.

"There’s a box social late this afternoon at the church," Kitty stated, rubbing her tender bosom against my arm. I could easily tell she was interested in mating with me. "Would you be interested in attending?"

Part of my job, I thought, and the best way to learn about human activity. Things were working out well for me and I should be able to wrap up a good report in no time. "Of course," I replied, thinking of the meaning of a box social. "If your cooking is there, I’ll pay a fortune for it."

Which reminded me that I had none of the currency that humans used for bartering. I had used all of it on this one meal. The mangy outlaw who was my host had lost everything trying to escape from a posse of angry men. The only way to get it was to steal it or earn it. Well, there was another way - I could make it. A quick trip to my shuttle pod would provide me with all I needed. I had spotted an assay office as I rode into town and I knew that gold was one medium of barter accepted anywhere on the planet.

As I left the boarding house I noticed that someone was walking off with my transportation. In fact, there were six of them and they looked just as disheveled as I had been a few hours ago.

"You wouldn’t be interested in purchasing the animal? I asked them, noticing how eager they were to be off with their prize. They stopped and gazed at me with strange leering expressions. A tall man dressed in black and wearing his shooting irons very low spoke for them.

"And who’s going to stop us from taking it?" he asked, placing his hand above his pistol in a threatening manner. Their thoughts told me they were all anxious to fill my body full of the lead pellets that the shooting irons cast. This would be a good chance for me to show the gathering citizens that I was one step above these desperadoes.

"You go first!" I yelled back. "If you have the courage that is."

Within seconds all six of them drew their shooting irons and started swinging them in my direction. With a little help from temporal adjustment, I pulled my pistol from its holster and rapidly fired six shots at the men, knocking each of their shooting irons from their moving hands. I did not want to physically injure them. I then removed the other pistol from my left holster and threatened them with it.

The six men and the gathered crowd looked at me with shock and awe. Without picking up their damaged weapons the six men ran down the street towards another watering hole. I retrieved my transportation and headed out of town for my shuttle pod.

A few hours later I was back in town with my saddlebags bulging with large gold nuggets that I had made using the converter in my pod. The eyes of the man at the assay office flew wide when he saw the size of the nuggets. He was even more amazed that they assayed out as pure gold. He wrote me a draft equal to thousands of their currency notes to take to the bank.

That afternoon at the church box social I paid a thousand dollars for Ms. Kitty’s box, much to the shock and eager smiles of the entire congregation. It seemed that the church would receive the lion’s share of the funds. I guess they assumed that, as an English Lord, I had access to unlimited funds and they had already witnessed my bold display of shooting prowess earlier in the day. I had suddenly become a man in great social demand.

The leader of the town asked if I wanted to become the Town Constable, a person responsible for law and order, and the banker continued to ask me if I had more gold stashed away and insisted that it would be much safer in his bank. The man who ministered to their spiritual needs, they called him preacher, said the church could use a new deacon. I’m sure he meant a wealthy new deacon.

As for Ms. Kitty, she never left my arm for one second. She was so obvious in her need to mate with me that I was eager to accommodate her. The physical sensations I had been experiencing with my host body were like nothing I had ever encountered before and I was rapidly growing reluctant to give them up.

"Will you have to return to England?" She asked me as the social was ending. Just in case the local authorities checked on my story, I had taken the time to place corroborating evidence in the legal archives of the English government. A check would show that Lord Cunningham did have a fifth son who was on sabbatical to the colonies as the British were want to say, and Lord Cunningham was a man with a serious case of Alzheimer’s disease.

"I have no plans to do so my dear," I replied. "As the fifth son of a Lord I am not due to gain inheritance or title or such and I have all the financial means I need. Besides, now that I have met you I am eager to learn American Western culture."

That evening I learned what it was truly like to be human. Living as beings of pure energy we gave up physical sensations generations ago. What a huge mistake that was! I could never go back to living in such a state again and I desperately wanted to remain in my human form forever. I was in love! Or, did they call it lust?

My host may disagree, but he’s just an occasional annoyance in the back of my mind and I can shut him completely out anytime I desire. After all, he wasted his existence as an outlaw and indigent idiot. The world will be better off without him. Plus, when I tire of his body, he'll have it back with little damage done and no memory of my presence.

Ms. Kitty has agreed to become my mate and I eagerly look forward to a long lasting relationship.

Today, I destroyed my shuttle pod after sending a message to stay clear of this planet. Once the tracer on the pod goes dead, the Galactic Council will not investigate the cause because it happens so often they do not have the resources. I will become just another lost agent.

Naturally, I have taken the time to produce several tons of pure gold, which I hid in a safe spot before I destroyed the pod. There is enough to sustain Ms. Kitty until she ages beyond ability, and enough for me for the life remaining in this human body and many more. Also, there are many female humans out there with those wonderful warm mammary mounds to pick from. Or perhaps I’ll try the female body on for size as an interesting change!

Life is wonderful... be seeing you around!

© Copyright 2009 Oldwarrior (oldwarrior at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1537443-GALACTIC-GUNSLINGER