Tabloid Blues, CIA and Quantum Tunneling

http://www.last.fm/music/New+Order/_/Jetstream

Click, download this song as you read the section here where Stephan reads the tabloids about himself, and his sexual escapades with leather clad semi-robotic Nadia.

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When Stephan’s monarchy business was done, he changed his clothes from a suit, and into jeans. He set about surveying the house on his own, thinking on how he could have it sealed off from Federation monitors. He stood looking up at the three story house, duped. He stood on the roof, even more duped. This is a big house.

Stephan fiddled in the garage with various quantum computing systems, and again became frustrated. The Lambo was small enough to transport through a medium sized device, but how in the hell do you move an estate house built out of stone? Stephan was able to move most things through a certain quantum tunneling system he had access to, but only things that could be moved.

Much of the leading edge exotic technology Stephan had access to worked via wave-particle duality. Because matter had wave-particle duality, the Heisenberg uncertainty principle kicked in, and tunneling had something to do with that. In other words, the technology worked with matter directly, the fabric of stuff, and shifted that matter’s state into waveform, and then once a desired transformation or task was done, that matter was shifted back to particle form. That matter never could shift back to particle form without shifting back as an entirely different packet of matter. It was a mere copy, taken out of another dimension and reconstructed.

Because Stephan used wave-particle states of matter all the time with his Lamborghini, that car came out as a copied version of a brand new car! And because a new dimension was pulled in to do that, World Federation monitors failed to track the car and occupants, and monitor what was said in it, or what the occupants were thinking.

If you think about it, with every action, and with every decision made to take action, a person becomes a new packet of matter. They became a mere copy of themselves, as the other version remained, going down the original path, while the copy went down the new decided path. This was believed because thoughts were pure waveform.

Much of Stephan’s monarchy was built in that car, and was still being built from within it. But now the monarchy was really up and going, and there were now meetings, and many visitors. You can’t fit a group of dignitaries and government people into a Lamborghini. It’s rather difficult, really, to say the least. Stephan had to come up with a large device that could quantum shift an estate house, and later, even an entire palace and parliament building – and ministry of defense.

For Stephan, it was all extremely engaging and important. He now thought that it was essential for his survival. For the survival of those he cared about, he had to better master wave-particle duality technology.

Stephan’s mobile chimed. He answered it.

“Stephan, you are the funniest guy I know! I can’t believe the whole Michael Jackson bit. How did you learn to moonwalk like that?”

“What? I never moonwalked at a club. Still working on that move.”

And then it hit him. His school buddy had seen his dance this morning in the tabloids. He looked around himself, out of shear habit, any time the paparazzi came to mind.

“You mean you haven’t seen it yet? It’s all over the place today.” Stephan’s buddy enthused, “Oh my God, it’s a fucking hit, dude. Over 3.5 million hits in only an hour! You’re a star!”

“Ah, what?”

“Stephan, buddy, they love it.”

“You mean the public?”

“Yes! Who do you think I’m talking about?”

“You mean they are not shredding me?”

“No!”

“Shit, my family’s going to wring my neck.”

“Why?”

“I’ve got a whole God damned monarchy on my hands now.”

Stephan’s buddy laughed hard, “Dude, you are funny as hell, you know that? A whole God damned monarchy on your hands - and you’re worried about your mom kicking your ass.”

“My mom doesn’t kick me in the ass. Come on Jürgen! It’s the family council that’ll kick my ass. Maybe even parliament. I can’t be in the tabloids now.”

“Don’t worry about it. I bet it’ll make that monarchy on your hands popular.”

“I suppose so. It’s already popular, though. Good God, I can’t even enjoy my own private property. Nothing like that has happened before. Only when I’m out on the town, especially with a girl.”

“Well, maybe having a monarchy has changed that.”

“I suppose. Say, what are you doing tomorrow? Want to come over for some beer?”

“Nothing but school homework planned. Sure, let’s get together.”

“Great. We’ll shoot the shit and watch a movie, a game or something. I want to show you some cool projects I’ve been working on. I’ve got a hell of challenging engineering problem I’ve got to begin to solve. I’ll be done working around seven tomorrow. Come on over then.”

“See you then. Hey Stephan.”

“Yeah?”

“Am I supposed to call you Your Majesty?”

“Only if my relatives or officials are around, and then only once. But please, not any other time.”

“Sure.”

“Never ever at school or in front of our friends. Promise. It’s sort of weird.”

“Promise.”

“See you at seven.”

Stephan ended the call, and again instinctively glanced around himself. He blew out air and shook his head in disbelief. He had been briefed on the possibility of being photographed while outside, but not inside his own home.

“I really have to seal off this place. Shit, where am I going to take Nadia anymore?”

Oh yes, kinky and beautiful Nadia.

And then Stephan remembered the tabloids he kept in his closet. He went to his rooms and pulled them down, and then stuffed them into a Western saddle bag, along with a virtual reality smart tablet. He hoisted that bag over his shoulder, and headed for the barn.

He bridled and saddled a horse rather quickly, choosing a dressage saddle, a western saddle roll holding a loden wool coat, a blanket and an automatic rifle - and of course he secured his cowboy saddlebags. With the tabloids as cargo, he rode off to his special hiding place, the place where he did a lot of thinking and meditation. It was an almost mystical place in the woods, high in the Alpine foothills. It was a very natural and lovely place, indeed.

Stephan dismounted in his own way, and not in the way aristocrats dismounted, stepping down using the stirrup. He jumped off like a cowboy. He was a big fan of John Wayne and John Ford movies, and sometimes copied the moves he saw in those pictures. He secured his horse, via a halter, and took down the saddlebags. He strode to a grassy patch, sat down against a fallen log, and pulled out the reports on a rather wild prince indeed.

Stephan wanted to go over all the reports of his escapades now that he had disabled some of his brain implants and had renewed clarity. He wanted to experience his now human reaction to his own antics, and not experience it via his programming. He still had some programming left, but he now had new more human reactions.

Stephan closed his eyes a moment, quieting his mind, and then started looking at the tabloid reports.

Before him were images of a fun loving, good looking, rich jet setter, surrounded by models, gold diggers, high class escorts, other jet setters …

There was a lot of fur, leather, silk, satin and tits in the photos, especially Stephan’s favorite, luxurious soft leather. Shit, the photos looked like a fucking Gucci ad!

“My God!” Stephan exclaimed. “I look like a playboy! I look gay!”

Nothing wrong with looking gay, but monarchs were obligated to not look gay. They were supposed to be the embodiment of an entire nation, not just ten percent of it.

He examined the pictures more closely: A hand on his ass, his hand on some woman’s upper thigh. Ok, that’s normal enough. He looked at the more recent photos of his wild times with Nadia. These images were even more intense, and Stephan looked a bit out of control. Nadia looked way too risqué: Exposed breast now and then, never with a bra and almost always in the designer leather he bought her. He was making out and completely touching her, in his sports cars, on yacht decks, in some corner someplace…

It looked as if over time, Stephan shifted from merely wanting to be seen with beautiful women, to really making it a point and then moving on to going completely wild with Nadia. Stephan at first simply planned on being seen with women, indeed. He had his purpose for that, but then, with Federation programming, the whole thing spun out of control. It was obvious now to him.

“Look at all this. I’m completely acting up in these photos, not just having fun. I knew I was a potential monarch. Why in the hell did I do this shit? It’s self sabotaging.”

It was all about the control of nations. And it was all about Stephan being completely under the control of Chairman William Wilcox. Stephan knew that.

He looked at a picture of him French kissing naked Nadia on the deck of a yacht, and even if it turned him on, it also made his stomach swirl. So out in the open!

Stephan lowered the paper, and rolled to his side. He puked. Again, it wasn’t about the photo, for that had actually been a hell of a lot of fun. He puked at the idea that he had been so out of control of himself, due to the brain implants and programming.

Suddenly his heart pounded. He tore through the pictures, looking for something specific, madly rushing through the pages.

“Oh no! Mitch!”

He prayed to God he didn’t see photos of Mitch.

Mitch: CIA operator.

USA: Major ally and nation in revolt.

Stephan panicked, and he sweated. He did end up throwing up some more. Indeed Chairman Wilcox has him by the balls, as well as his entire nation – and the US.

Right there on the grass, was a photo of Stephan and Mitch together on the beach. They were holding hands, looking tender.

“We’re so screwed.” Stephan stammered.