Switch: Alien Invasion/Violence&S*x-Chapter 141: The forbidden equation

’Pervert,’ I send back as she steps away, but I create the switches all the same, increasing them slightly. My sister’s eyes widen, and I can see her nipples grow taut as she gives a soft shiver that accentuates her curves. A faint gasp escapes her before she steadies herself, clearly enjoying the new sensations.

I realize these are the first switches I have ever created in my sibling. The awareness of that lingers in my mind, mixing pride, power, and something far more complicated. Around us, the alien ship hums quietly, blue light reflecting off smooth walls, while Leslie pretends not to watch us and Vage observes everything with calm, unreadable eyes.

"Has she been any help in coming up with a way to defeat the demons?" I ask out loud, nodding toward the only dressed person in the room. The question feels heavier than it should. The fate of the planet rests somewhere in the answer, and I can hear the faint hum of the ship behind my words, as if even it is waiting.

"Kind of," Stephanie says, glaring at the other woman. "Once you get past her arrogance, she truly is a genius, but she doesn’t know much about tactics or even a way to stop such overwhelming numbers."

My heart drops when I hear this, the fragile hope I had clung to dimming slightly, but Loveth steps in before the silence can grow too thick. "She is, however, able to interface with this ship, and it is already upgrading itself."

I light up at that. "Weapons?" I ask excitedly, only to be let down a moment later. I can already picture plasma cannons sliding out of the hull, shields strengthening, something tangible to fight back with.

"No. We just don’t have the resources on board, and we can’t cannibalize the other ships either," my sister states, folding her arms. "She has, however, been able to upgrade the ship’s engine. We are a lot more agile than we were before, and they are still working on other improvements as well. Structural integrity, power routing efficiency, computational throughput. Small things individually, but together they matter."

"Well, beggars can’t be choosers," Tina says next to me, and I agree. Her shoulder brushes mine, warm and grounding, a reminder that we are still human in the middle of all this alien technology.

Thinking about just how smart the newest member of the crew is, I remember that final question and walk over to the two conversing in the corner. The blue light of the ship reflects faintly off Leslie’s dark hair, giving her an almost ethereal outline.

Leslie looks at me as I approach, and I catch her eyes dropping once again to my midsection before she very pointedly turns back to Vage. I notice Harana is not around and figure she is in with my kids, probably ensuring they are calm despite the tension in the air.

"Vage, what’s the deal with that last equation at the competition?" I ask. Leslie looks at me in shock for a second before turning away in embarrassment, as if she cannot believe I would admit ignorance.

"You don’t know?" she says to the opposite wall, her tone caught somewhere between disbelief and disdain.

"No. My vision went gray just as it popped up. I never actually saw the question," I tell the back of her head. The memory of that moment still unsettles me, the sudden wash of gray like a curtain being pulled over my mind.

’Sit down, please,’ Vage sends to all of us, and we oblige. Leslie’s knee touches mine for a split second, and she flinches away, likely after contacting the light suit. Harana comes out carrying two softly mewing kids and hands them to Vage, who begins to breastfeed them without preamble. The conservative Asian woman’s cheeks turn deep scarlet. She looks away, only to glance back a second later and stare despite herself. Her gaze shifts to me, then to my semi-hard cock, then back up to my eyes.

"Those kids are yours!" she blurts out, and the other three human females in the room burst out laughing, which only embarrasses Leslie even more. The laughter lightens the mood, if only briefly.

"Long story," I tell her, then turn back to Vage. I know I can talk to her through the nanites, but it is just easier to speak out loud. "So what happened with my nanites?"

’The equation that appeared is too advanced for your race to handle responsibly,’ the words appear before all of our eyes. ’It was automatically blocked.’

"Too advanced?" Stephanie asks incredulously. "But Leslie saw it."

"And solved it," the woman in question answers haughtily in her slightly accented voice. "I noticed that the government had started watching me just before the holidays. I think they planted that equation in the hope that I would solve it, but I immediately recognized what it was for and refused to do so."

"Her refusal to answer that question is why I knew we could trust her," Loveth says, and we all look at her. "What? I recognized that look on her face and knew we could use her."

"Yes, but I didn’t have these tiny robots helping me," Leslie says pointedly, looking me hard in the eyes. I can tell she is trying not to look down, trying to maintain control of every expression.

"What was it?" Tina prompts softly, curiosity overriding her earlier irritation.

’It was an equation that would have unlocked the entire human genome,’ Vage tells us.

"But that could be used to cure genetic maladies like Alzheimer’s or MS!" Stephanie shouts unexpectedly. "That could help the human race advance in so many ways!" Her voice echoes faintly against the smooth walls.

Then her eyes widen, and we all see the problem at the same time.

Yes, that knowledge could indeed cure humanity of genetic diseases and even help make us stronger and smarter. It could extend lifespans, eliminate suffering passed down through generations, rewrite the biological limits that have bound us since the beginning. But it could also be used to erase what makes each person unique, to design obedience into children before they are even born, or to create a tailored pathogen capable of wiping out entire civilizations. If one government possessed it, they could create an army of super soldiers who mature within a year, completely brainwashed, and die within four. Disposable conquerors. They could take over the world and rule with an iron fist and total impunity, silencing dissent at the genetic level.

In short, the human race truly is not ready for that knowledge.

"Since you didn’t answer, are we safe?" Loveth is the first to break the silence, her earlier confidence tempered now by unease.

Harana swaps out two more kids with Vage after the yellow light swells her breasts again. I notice Leslie’s eyes glued to the alien during the entire transfer, scientific fascination briefly overpowering her discomfort. Then she looks away, her cheeks flushing once more.

’As long as no others with Leslie’s intellect can find the answer, it should take a couple more decades to solve it.’

We all sigh in relief, the sound almost synchronized. A couple of decades feels like a reprieve, even if it is only temporary.

But I have to ask, "Will we, as a race, be ready then?"

’I cannot predict the future. It may be that your race will surprise us all, but it is also possible that you will wipe yourselves out. Until your leaders learn to work together, however, I would not hope for much.’ Vage’s words are daunting, but not untrue. No one argues.

We spend a few more hours into the night trying to come up with some sort of strategy or way to stop the demons from destroying Earth and humanity. Ideas are thrown out and dismantled. Defensive perimeters. Evacuation plans. Luring them into space. Weaponizing gravitational anomalies. Each suggestion collapses under scrutiny or lack of resources.

Loveth pulls out the Rocket Twins’ necklaces and goes over what little she has learned from them, explaining the faint resonance they produce when activated. Loveth can use the abilities she has discovered, and after some testing, so can Leslie and I. The energy hums faintly when I focus, responding like a muscle I never knew I had. For the rest of the women in the room, however, the necklace is simply made of large diamonds, glittering uselessly under the ship’s light. When Stephanie puts one on with her dyed red hair, I cannot help but think of Wilma Flintstone.

’More like Pebbles, and you’re my Bam-Bam,’ she sends to me after I make the comment to her.

Despite everything, I laugh quietly.

Even with Leslie’s immense, overbearing, domineering intelligence—yes, I am a little jealous—we fail to come up with any truly effective ideas. The hours stretch on, and the weight of what we are facing settles heavier with each passing minute. The ship continues to hum around us, upgraded, improved, more agile than before, yet still painfully unarmed.

Eventually, the room grows quieter. The jokes fade. The arguments soften. We are brilliant, enhanced, connected by alien technology and impossible circumstances.

And still, we do not have a plan.