Explode (The Harem at the End of the Galaxy #5)

  Explode

  The Harem at the End of the Galaxy #5

  By

  Kyle Kenze

  ©2018 Kyle Kenze, All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design ©2018 Ming Destiny

  Except for brief passages quoted for reviews and/or recommendations in magazine, radio, or blog posts, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. Please don't post my stories on sharing or pirate sites. The small fee you pay for my books allows me to continue writing the sexy sci-fi harem adventures you crave.

  If you are offended by explicit descriptions of the realities of polygamous harem sex including nudity, multiple erotic encounters with a variety of thirsty women, threeway and more-way encounters, frequent physical contact between open-minded women, and a good helping of gratuitous swearing, then boy oh boy... you have picked up the wrong book. All characters are consenting adults over age 18.

  This story is fiction written for entertainment. The cover models are for illustration purposes, and no model was involved in the activities described in this series. There may or may not be secret bunkers underneath the Pentagon, but the one described in this serial novel sure ain't them. This novella is around 13,000 words, and the entire 5-book novel-length series is around 60,000 words.

  Table of Contents

  Explode (The Harem at the End of the Galaxy, #5)

  A Peek Inside

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  About Kyle Kenze

  A Peek Inside

  What happens when your time-travel device goes up in a puff of smoke, but the aliens keep on coming?

  Eight beautiful women. One man. Dream or nightmare? All I can say is, I was supremely grateful for the powers of rebound and resilience granted to me by my exposure to the pheromones from the other end of the galaxy.

  I reached for the nearest tech, the shapely blonde Bette. She, in turn, pulled Felicity and Jaime in closer as well.

  These three girls were the only three who were still partly dressed, a situation we wasted no time in correcting. Bette, who always seemed a little quieter than the other two, kept sneaking looks at General Dyers - but she was Daisy now, cougar-like and slinky Daisy, her long-neglected appetites finally being gratified on every level - and there was absolutely zero reason for Bette to be bashful around Daisy.

  “You can party, you can play,” I said. “There's no judgment here. She wants you to, we all want you to. Let yourself go. Be free.”

  Bette flushed, but she allowed the older woman to approach and pull her down, so Daisy was cradling her from behind, her legs open to support the younger woman's trembling body. Daisy's boobs rubbed into Bette's back, Daisy's arms wrapped themselves around Bette's shoulders and waist.

  “This is good.” Daisy's whiskey voice was a sexual reassurance. “This is perfect.”

  Bette walked back on her buttocks where she sat, the better to press her firm rump against Daisy's open pussy. “I've never felt free. Even with Felicity and Jaime setting the example, I've always... something in me always held back.”

  “You don't have to do that anymore...”

  Chapter 1

  “This meeting is called to order,” I said. “We don't know how much time we have. Considering we're at Defcon One, we have to assume the aliens have already made the first move.”

  The three time-travel techs - Felicity, Jaime, and Bette - were handing out lab coats to the four women who'd traveled through time. General D. Chase Dyers and Brandy, the two from my time, did their best to button up and stand on their dignity, but Darlene and Jing, the two from the future, left their coats gaped open. At the far end of the galaxy, where every woman alive was a beautiful clone, modesty - not to mention body shame - was unheard of.

  “If I understand the archives from the future correctly, their choice of weapon is the virus. Indeed, there doesn't seem to be any evidence they've ever used any non-biological weapon in the Milky Way galaxy.” General Dyers assumed command as a matter of course. “May we assume they don't possess or at least haven't transported nuclear or conventional weaponry into our solar system?”

  We all looked at Darlene and Jing, the only ones who might have the slightest clue. Darlene touched her face, and I knew she missed the tortoise-shell glasses she wore back home to make herself look smart. “As far as we know. But it's possible they've got the weapons but never needed to use them because their biological tools are so effective.”

  “The virus surgically exterminates the intelligent species of the target planet, leaving the niche open for the aliens to insert themselves in their victim's place.” Jing folded her arms thoughtfully under her chest, unaware or not caring how the gesture lifted her firm boobs. “Nuclear war or even heavy conventional bombing spoils the planet they intend to possess. So they might have these weapons in the armory as a last resort, but they would bend over backward to avoid using them.”

  General Dyers repressed a sigh. “So your answer is the always helpful, ‘We don't know’.”

  A little silence.

  “Moving on.” Dyers looked at me. “We need to move against a technologically superior enemy from another galaxy known to be equipped with a killer virus and potentially equipped with an unknown range of other weapons.”

  “Yes, General,” I said. “That would appear to be the situation.”

  A longer silence.

  “Look,” I said. “It isn't as ridiculous as it sounds. The time-travel techs have identified the coordinates of the likely alien fleet. There are two ships disguised as small moons in orbit around the planet Mars.”

  “Phobos and Deimos.” Brandy pushed an auburn curl out of her face. “Fear and Terror.”

  We all looked at her.

  “That's their names in English,” she said. “Don't you guys ever watch the Syfy channel?”

  “The way things are going, they might get changed to Shock and Awe.” The general's whiskey voice was dry. “This is my issue. To the best of my understanding, we lack the technology to carry anything with us when we travel across spacetime. If we use the device to transport ourselves to the alien craft, we'll arrive completely naked.”

  While I was trapped in the time loop, I'd had subjective years to mull over the same problem, and I always reached the same conclusion. I could assemble an army, and I could even figure out where to send said army.

  The trouble was, an army that couldn't be supplied was an army that wasn't going to stand up to the enemy.

  Hell, we didn't even know what supplies we'd actually need. For instance, we had no idea about what atmosphere they breathed. We needed oxygen, and they weren't guaranteed to have it. Yet a spacesuit wouldn't travel with us.

  Stop this.

  It was pointless to think about worst case scenarios. We had to assume they were attacking Earth-like planets with Earth-like atmospheres because they breathed the same oxygen mix we do.

  “You're not wrong, General,” I finally said. “We land naked. That's the technology we have, so that's the technology we're going to have to use. It might seem a little hand-wavy, but we've got a smart team here, and I figure we'll be able to improvise some sort of delayed explosives device once we arrive and get a chance to see what materials they have on hand.”

  “And which of you people
have experience improvising weapons?” Dyers looked from face to face, but we were all shaking our heads. It must be frustrating to find yourself the general of an army with no foot soldiers. We had three scientists, two medics, one messenger girl, and one guy mainly famous for being the last male in the Milky Way uncontaminated by the alien virus.

  “This is going to be a goat rodeo for the record books,” I said. “I freely admit it, but we're out of options here.”

  “I can't bring this to the Joint Chiefs,” she said. “I'd be laughed out of the Army.”

  “You can't anyway,” said Felicity. “Once the Pentagon went to Defcon One, the airlock sealed itself. There's no communication between this lab and the rest of the world. You can't leave, you can't even send a message.”

  “Would the Joint Chiefs even be of any real help?” Brandy's cheeks were pink. She wasn't used to speaking this boldly about military matters in front of a general or, really, anyone.

  “Expound,” Dyers said. “Don't be shy. I want to hear this.”

  “I deliver files, I don't read them, but like I said...” She went pinker yet.

  “We know. The Syfy Channel.” Dyers flapped an impatient hand toward the cold steel ceiling of our bunker.

  “We need to take immediate action. The aliens are here now. That's why all the bubblegum machines are going off.” Brandy gained the confidence to speak more quickly as she went on. “If you go to the Chiefs or the POTUS or to NASA, you've still got a timing issue. NASA and even some private outfits have rockets capable of traveling within the solar system, but it would take them days, if not weeks or months, to get them into position.”

  “She's right, General,” I said. “The jawboning and the funding and the Senate committees and all the rest of the crap to authorize a military mission to Mars... the war would be all over before we ever got our socks on.”

  “The people in this room are the only hope for humanity,” Jaime said. “Rather, the five of you who can travel through spacetime are the only hope.”

  There wasn't much else to say. Since we never knew when one or more of us would bounce to another point on the timeline, I wanted to hurry up and make use of the pod while I could. “It's a tight fit, General.” Taking her arm, I guided her toward the alcove where the device was waiting. “We'll have to jump one at a time...”

  A stutter and a blur. Had time glitched again, if only for the blink of an eye?

  “Hey!” Dyers yelled. “Get away from there. You. Get back from that machine.”

  “It's Lacey.” I recognized the small but determined body, naked but turned away, shoulders hunched so I couldn't see what she was doing at the open airlock leading into the device. “She's one of ours.”

  “The fuck she is. She's planting something.”

  The tiny blonde L-clone from the other end of the galaxy spun on her bare heels. “The techs already set this thing with the coordinates for the Andromedan ship. Now, I'm going to ship them one hell of a surprise.” She slammed the pod's circular door shut and wiped her bare hands together. The smile on her face was a dazzling thing. She thought she'd done good.

  “Oh, fuck, no.” Was it me who shouted, or was it the general?

  Behind us, the techs too instantly understood. They shoved forward to flip Lacey hard on her back on the floor, where she gasped beneath them like a landed fish. “Are you insane?” Felicity was screaming. “Multiple tests over thousands of trials prove that inanimate objects can't be transported.”

  A decade younger and powered by testosterone, I easily beat the general to the time-travel machine. For a split second, I paused on the balls of my feet, but there was no time to hesitate. I couldn't let the device be destroyed because I might have no other way out of this sub-sub-sub basement. The alien virus could arrive at any moment, and I'd need a way to get male DNA out of this lab without risking contamination by traveling to the Earth's surface.

  When Dyers yanked open the door to the pod's interior, we both saw an improvised device that looked very television, complete with red light-up numerals to count down the seconds to the end. Lacey had studied old movies and TV shows from the archives to learn how to make it. My heart stabbed with pain.

  She thought she done good. She didn't know. We figured out a lot of things after she was already in the coma.

  Six.

  Five.

  Four.

  No more time.

  I reached in and grabbed and threw.

  Or I thought I did.

  But time glitched.

  I wasn't there.

  The bomb was.

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  Boom and bright.

  The time-travel device had just gone up in the proverbial puff of smoke.

  Chapter 2

  I was on my back. Seven beautiful women looked down at me.

  Felicity, Jaime, Bette, the trio of time-travel geniuses from the bunker beneath the Pentagon. Brandy, the messenger girl, and General Dyers, my supervisor. Also from my time, but they were supposed to be upstairs in the above-ground portion of the facility. They'd bounced into this allegedly above-top-secret sub-sub-sub basement through the magic of time travel which is, of course, actually spacetime travel.

  And, last but never least, Darlene and Jing, two representatives from the future at the end of the galaxy. They were the first girls who'd been infected with my ability to travel, and they were still the two who seemed to bounce most easily.

  How were all seven of them gathered together in one place? And why was I flat on my back yet one more time again?

  What the hell just happened?

  “His vital signs are strong.” Darlene checked my blood pressure in the traditional way of her people by feeling around the root of my cock.

  I drifted.

  “Talk to me, Clayton.” General Dyers. “That's a direct order.”

  Even a civilian contractor responds to that tone of command.

  Get it together. We're running out of time. Did someone just blow up the fucking device?

  “I'm fine.” I tried to sit up, then changed my mind. “I might have a slight concussion.” When I closed my eyes, I felt better. A little, anyway.

  “We can fix that.” Darlene's fingers went to my temples, where they tapped carefully at certain pressure points. Her touch was magic. Ah. That was the Dr. Darlene I knew.

  My eyes blinked open, and the cold institutional light didn't sting. “That helps. Yeah, a little more. Yeah...”

  Felicity looked frantic. “The experimental device is gone.” Her dark eyes flashed with anger. “All my work.” Jaime and Bette shifted uneasily, and she corrected herself. “All our work. That was game-changing science. We could have changed not just the past but also the future. And now it's gone.”

  Jaime was so angry the air crackled around her aristocratic face. “It was sabotage. And you brought her here, Clayton. She's one of yours from the future.”

  Sit up. Breathe. Project control.

  “I saw.” I could sit. Could I stand? With an effort, I pushed myself off the table so I no longer had to gaze up at the women who surrounded me. “It looked like Lacey, but I don't think it was. I don't think she would sandbag us like that. I'm guessing it was the double from Andromeda. Hers was the body they copied so they could insinuate their way into the last colony.”

  “And that's better?” Brandy sounded as outraged as the three techs who'd just seen their life's work go up in smoke. “An alien from Andromeda is here? In this bunker? Doesn't that mean we're all contaminated now?”

  She was right. I stood looking from girl to girl, wondering where to go from here.

  If I was contaminated, there was no more healthy male DNA. Anywhere. Not in the present and not in the future. Nowhere.

  The only place left was the past, where we could no longer go.

  “I am me, though.” The voice made of honey came from behind a stack of steel towers. A beat later, the petite blonde herself emerged sheepishly in
to the light. She might as well. The place wasn't big enough to let her hide for long.

  Everybody started shouting at once.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

  “You've fucked us all, you've fucked the past and the future.”

  “How the fuck did you ever do that fucking shit? Why the fuck did you do it?”

  I waved my arms. “Ladies. Ladies. Can we please stop shouting for a moment? The concussion, remember?” My head didn't really hurt anymore - something in the deft pressure of Darlene's fingers had already cured me - but this pile-on wasn't helping anybody. “Let's all calm down and let Lacey tell us what's going on. We're all time travelers now...” I glanced at Felicity, Jaime, and Bette. “...All time travelers or time scientists. We can fix this if we remain calm and figure a few things out.”

  Flushed and defiant, Lacey folded her arms under volleyball tits. The gesture made her look more like an inflatable love doll than the saboteur who'd just blown up a key piece of DOD experimental equipment. One of the women from our time had draped a rumpled lab coat around her shoulders, but the girl from the future didn't care about adjusting it to cover herself. She had bigger things on her mind.

  She parted her velvet lips, started to speak, then clamped them shut again.

  “Nobody's going to shout you down.” I spoke softly, a man talking a runaway kitten down from a tree. “Explain, sweetie. Tell me why you felt like you had to do this.”

  A single tear trickled from the corner of her eye. “You know why, Clayton. You understand. I can travel now, just like you, and I see my future. I see my death. The death of my sisters. I'm trapped in my body, in a coma, unable to speak, unable to move, and yet I can hear you all talking and I'm helpless to stop it and... it can't, it can't happen, it can't.”