Lisa awoke very slowly. Her eyes were puffy and itchy. Her lower back
twinged with pain. Her tongue and teeth felt fuzzy. Her private parts
felt raw. Her breasts ached. The beginning of a headache was threatening
to form behind her eyes.
"Christ that was some party!" She mumbled as she sat up and reached
across her bed to slap the damned alarm clock silent.
Two yawns and she stood up and walked to her bathroom with her bed sheet
wrapped about herself like an ancient Greek toga. A minute later, after
flushing the toilet, she stared at herself in the mirror.
She was greeted with a heart-shaped face, pale skin, chestnut colored
hair, and green eyes, all of which looked like they'd been through the
wringer.
Though hung over, Lisa remembered every single thing that had happened
the night before. Arriving at Frank's penthouse party. All the free
drinks. Lots of single guys and girls. The flirting. The dancing.
The laughing. The groping. Making out in the hover-cab on the way to
that rich guy Sean's place. Making love and getting off at least five
times in just as many hours. She hadn't had that much fun in, well,
ever.
A short moment of nausea doubled her over but it passed just as
quickly. And the rest of it hit her. She had not used any protection.
Her little night-purse had contained a half-dozen spermicidal
devices, pills, and prophylactics. But everything had happened
so fast. And she didn't want to kill the mood. And the night had
felt so good...until now.
Lisa reached into the medicine cabinet and yanked out a six inch
long transparent plastic tube filled with five glowing blue marble
sized globes. The device looked like an ammo cartridge for some
futuristic space-pistol.
Lisa stared at it for a long time. Had the night been worth it?
Was the fun and pleasure of it all worth this morning's crappy
payoff? And its consequences? Focussing through the semi-drugged
memories of a mere 12 hours earlier she thought about her actions.
Had she come off as a fun girl. A class act? Or a total slut?
How had her friends looked at her when she left the party? What
would they think of her today? Or on Monday morning?
And all that sex. And no protection. Sure. She had a dozen
different oral drugs that would take care of any budding
pregnancy, but that was the last resort for skanks and losers
who didn't shine to the latest life-trends and cultural
fads. No one but her would ever know...but that would be
enough.
Lisa weighed all this like a judge sitting trial on a murder
case. Several seconds later she tapped a tiny inset-switch
near the end of the tube and popped one of the glowing blue
globes into her other hand.
The device sparkled with shiny motes aplenty. Lisa steeled
herself and swallowed the Morning-After Pill.
In fifteen seconds it reached her stomach. Organic acids dissolved
the outer coating instantly activating the dissolution of the
quantum shielding. Seconds later several thousand fabricated
tachyons, each with a radioactive half-life of six hours,
flooded Lisa's bloodstream. Within a full minute they spread
throughout her entire body.
The time-flux was an explosion of nothing...
...and Lisa accepted the proffered martini and sipped it.
Not bad. Mark, however, the middle-aged bachelor who had
given it to her, left much to be desired. Average height,
a bit too chubby, ridiculously pale, she wondered if he
was worth it. And then the nausea of time-flux hit her.
"Morning-After Pill!" She thought in shock. "Must have
been a bad night."
Just then, Lisa's girlfriend Patsy yelled at her across
the dance floor. "Lisa! You gotta meet this guy Sean!
He's the max!"
Lisa smiled at Mark and quickly excused herself to escape
to the hunk Patsy had pointed out. Timing was everything.
Surely she'd taken the morning-after pill after a lame
night with that loser Mark. And the closer she got to the
curly black-haired Adonis Sean, the more sure she was that
this was going to be one hell of a night of fun.
A moment of strange deja-vu hit Lisa when Patsy introduced
her to Sean.
"What the Hell?" Lisa thought giddily while shrugging off
the weird sense of foreboding. "Probably just means we're
meant for each other."
x x x
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