Ofana

by Clay Moore

  Brian watched the blond woman run down. Her breasts swayed as she ran. She stood at her position at the craps layout, and the Sultan walked Brian to the craps layout.

  “I like you so much. Let’s only wager fifteen hundred scrips. One throw of the dice.”

  “Pass line, bet?”

  “Yes, for Fifteen hundred scrip.”

  Brian reached into his ship uniform pants pocket and took out his cash wad, He counted out fifteen hundred scrips. And put it on the pass line. The Sultan snapped his fingers, and sycophant put fifteen hundred scrips on Brian’s wager.

  The Sultan poured out five dice on the table. Brian picked out two dice. Brian picked up the dice. He opened his hand and extended it to the blond. She blew on them for “luck.” Then Brian tossed the dice. He did not even look at them. The blonds reaction was enough for him.

  The Sultan was playing a game of telling his subjects that he has a friend like Brian, who could shoot, was lucky, and virile. That was what was going on.

  The Sultan touched Brian on his right shoulder. He took Brian up to the ladies sitting on the rug.

  “I would ask something of you. I would like a son of your blood. I would have you choose a woman and make love to her. She must be delighted.”

  Brian looked at a lot of eager women. Even the blond he used as a lucky piece wanted in this.

  “You are so lucky to find all these wonderful women. How is a man to choose?”

  The Sultan was delighted. He wore a smile that was three sizes larger than usual. “You may choose as many as you want. Remember, they all must be satisfied.”

  “I’ll start with blond missy here.”

  “Daphne and any other, you wish to select.”

  Brian looked at Daphne. She was pointing to a Black haired woman. When he looked at Daphne, she nodded that that was one. Brian pointed to the black-headed woman.

  “How wonderful Cordelia has been chosen. Any more?”

  “No, two will be enough.”

  The Sultan clapped once. The two women propelled him toward a room reserved for this rite. As the ladies moved, they were removing clothing. They went into the marital bedroom. Then they took off Brian’s clothing. The black hairs beauty looked to be in hyper-athletic shape. She jumped on Brian and bore him to the ground.

  Ofana hated waiting for a man to ejaculate twice when he was not doing it to her. The Sultan seemed to savor the moment. He even poured Ofana a glass of tea.

  “Patience, your highness,” said the Sultan. “A man can only send so much loving before it has to come to an end.

  A cry came from the conjugal room. “Yes, Yes, Yes, oh, yes.”

  “Cordelia has been satisfied.”

  “You know your women.”

  “One hopes to know then well. I have my Harem differently than most. All women are free to go whenever they want. Food and sex have its attractions.”

  “On Giesling, I understand it.”

  There was a loud, singing voice. It was a female voice, and the sounds indicated passion and deep pleasure. Then the voice when up an octave.”

  “Daphne has been satisfied.”

  The curtain door had been opened, and Brian appeared wholly dressed. The women were sleeping soundly, and Brian walked a little gingerly. He did walk, however.

  “Come down here, Brian,” said The Sultan. The Sultan poured Brian a cup of tea, and Brian arrived and took the glass of tea. He drank it right down. He handed the glass back to the Sultan.

  “How did you find the two women?”

  “Tigresses.”

  “They will like that. The Tigresses may want to change tigresses clothing.”

  “Sultan,” said Ofana, “I have some of those papers I’d like for you to have distributed.”

  “Yes, I see that. My aide will take care of it. We’ll pass around to the tribes and some of the cities we are still allowed in. I can get more from the Library?”

  “That’s correct. We’d like to stay until tomorrow. We’d like to sample things at the bazaar before we retire.”

  “Your Highness has the freedom of the tents.”

  “Thank you, you’re highness.”

  “The Tent assigned to you is the green. Your men can stay at the Yellow Tent. Have fun. Go out the way you came. The bazaar is the buildings adjoining the Tent. Again have fun.”

  Brian started walking toward the team. He sent the sign for them to mount up. Then Brian called for four-point coverage of Ofana. He kept following Ofana. Brian would like to think the place safe, but with Anton Hecton, no place was safe. Anton had the resources of a company like Planetary Interests he can afford any level of expertise.

  The first thing that Ofana wanted to do was go shopping. There was locally produced glass work with the glass made from the sand which all you had to do was walk fifty feet. There was someone making leather goods from a weird looking skin. It has the name of Croc Toad. Brian imagined going hunting for that ominously named critter.

  While Brian was playing with a golf club, something caught his eye. He put down the golf club. Brian strolled following Ofana. Then he saw it again. A man was wearing a brightly colored shirt. Apparently, the man had something in his back pocket. The back pocket was often called in the Special Agent school as the quick concealed Holster. One of the reasons for using the pistol that they did was so that a gun could be placed in the back pocket.

  The main problem was that he could not tell precisely if a person was carrying. Brian was afraid of killing someone by accident. He had to make a decision. Suddenly Luana was there. He pointed out the person. She looked for a moment.

  “It’s a Dia limia pistol, .38 caliber.”

  Brian took a moment. Then he took out his own pistol and attached the silencer. Brian resumed his hunt. Then he saw his target reached into his back pocket and pulled out the exact weapon that Luana indicated. Brian took a bead on the assassin. Then he touched the trigger. His pistol bucked in his hand once. The target’s shirt turned crimson. Brian searched the body for any clues. He put into a shopping bag all of the items that were on his body. Brian picked up the shopping bag. He got to the team and Ofana just before they entered the tent.

  “What was that?” asked Ofana.

  “Not out here, let’s talk with the Sultan.”

  Nobody asked any more questions. They knew the futility of asking a question when Brian did not want to answer questions. Ofana followed Brian to the entrance area of the Sultan.

  “I’m sorry, our troubles have caught up with us,” said Ofana

  “In the Bazaar? What was it?”

  “A weird kind of assassin,” Brian said.

  “How weird?”

  Brian took a moment and settled his thoughts. When he had everything together, he started. “There are three kinds of assassination. One is the bunch of guys with pistols who dump bullets into a body. It has no grace. Anybody can be part of a mob and empty their pistol into the target. Second is the assassin that kills by poison. This person is single. He has to penetrate your house or office to plant the delivery system. Then he is off the planet before you die. The last is the assassin that I call the king of Assassins. It is the sniper. This person kills from far away. His gun is the envy of people who own guns.”

  “The last item is a new category. I call this assassin the short distance sniper. He trains himself or herself, not to move in any way that might give away his intentions. He uses all kinds of lethal devices.”

  Brian upended the shopping bag onto the rug. Brian spread out the devices in front of him. His team sat on their knees to see the tools. The Sultan went to one knee to see the devices as well.

  “A lot of these devices uses springs or elastic bands to power a projectile toward the target. The devices are tipped with poison. Some of these are subtle until the person keels over. Some are as subtle as a slap in the face. Some devices use polonium as poison. Then there are variations on firing a gun dart of some kind. All of these are close up weapons. This assassin lives on dece
ption and disguise.”

  “Why do that?” the Sultan asked. “If you fire a weapon, it must be heard.”

  “What if he conceals it, fires, and then either drop the weapon or throws it into the crowd. For the cost of a handgun, he walks free. No one is the wiser.”

  The Sultan washed his face with his hands. Then he rested his head on his right hand.

  “It seemed that you are pitted against fools. Only fools go up against the mouth of God. Then it is a wise act to do as you wish, Ofana. You shall have a tent as I have promised. I wish you to sleep so I will ring your tent with guards who shall not hear a thing. I will have my cook prepare some of the food the bazaar makes.”

  “And then I will offer soft comfort to those who serve the Ofana. I see that the woman has chosen as well as the Ofana. I offer you ladies who are excess in my harem. They are beautiful and knowledgeable. So enjoy them, my comrades. It is indeed ‘time for a change.’”

  Ofana and her group were taken to their tents prepared for them. Brian found himself alone with Ofana. An awkwardness had fallen between them since the attack in the bazaar.

  Ofana knew what was expected of a special agent concerning protection missions. He was supposed to give up his life to preserve hers. That laid a heavy burden on her. The man to whom she so cavalierly made love had proven that he would surrender his life for hers. Sex was a way to give him joy, and she enjoyed it too. Yet, she felt that she owed him so much more. The empathy she felt for the average Giesling she felt for Brian, and if she were honest, for her Father, too.

  She smothered a laugh at what her Father would say when told of this new empathy for the other person.

  Brian noticed the by-play of emotions on Ofana’s face. She thought she was such a private person. To know that she could be read so easily would just be counterproductive for the mission. He stopped calling what they had a relationship. They had a friendship with benefits for both.

  Brian grabbed her about her hips, and she gave a burst of playful laughter. He tickled her mercilessly until she cried, uncle.

  “The prize of my victory I give to thee, Ofana.”

  Her eyes went up in surprise.

  “Yes, whatever you want, I will perform.”

  She smiled evilly and pushed his head down between her legs.

  Brian woke up in a tangle of legs, arms, and hair. The Sultan was as good as his word. They were able to rest and get some sleep. Brian did hear the sounds of lovemaking from the Tent his team was staying. That was not usually restful for Brian, but those sounds represented a walk of many miles in their lives. There was now something more to live for. Another life was needing someone to live for them.

  Brian swung his legs over. Ofana’s arms were around his waist, and she stuck her face against his back. She made sniffing noises. She liked his smell apparently. Then he felt her left hand climb up his chest. She caressed his nipple, and that was a disconcerting sensation. He was not used to it. Usually, he made love to the woman, not the other way round.

  “I’m surprised that you don’t like that,” said Ofana a little disappointment in her voice.

  “I never look for more stimulation than what I get. I know that women need more to achieve the pinnacle. That is the goal of my lovemaking.”

  “But you have a whole body of stimulation. Why do you deny it?”

  “I can make my tool work. That is all that I need.”

  “The next time we are in a first class hotel, I will show you what Mrs. Wattle showed us in etiquette: how to please a man physically.”

  Brian chuckled. “We also had a class like that in Special Agent Course. Which fork to use when. Left foot first. No sexuality classes. Just the fox hunts.”

  “What are those?”

  “Most of the exercise we did on our own. The only exercise that was had an instructor was the run. The Instructors found that we peaked. The Class Instructors decided to take advantage of some men and women to act as a fox, while the trainees are the hunter. The Instructors said they would look aside if the fox agrees to copulation.”

  “What do you learn from that?”

  “True sexual orientation. The scrub’s level of exertion to achieve a goal. It was the most fun exam on the whole course.”

  “Also, instructors who wanted to work off steam would go into the dorms and ask a scrub to scratch her itch,” said Brian simulating scratching.

  “There was one Scrub who did not believe the brief on the exercise. When this Navy Prig caught the Fox, She ended up underneath him. He paused, not knowing what to do. She broke the ice by kissing him.”

  Ofana sat there with an incredulous face. “You’re not telling me that you have sex at the drop of a hat.”

  “We do. He was an officer in the Starfleet. He had a pole stuck up his butt while in the Navy. When he joined us, he had to learn to drop the heel clicking. He was taught in the Navy that Sexuality was a bad thing. They are losing that. The Foxhunt wiped off some of his rust.”

  “And you? You’ve never let a woman sit in the driver’s seat?”

  “Not really. It’s how I guarantee any woman will have a good time.”

  “I am about to teach you something. Sometimes there is pleasure in giving pleasure.”

  She rolled over and sat on his lap while he lay down. She gave him a kiss, and She gave him a kiss all over his body. She licked his nipples. She went down on him.

  It felt weird. Brian reached the pinnacle without him using his own tool. Instead, someone used his tool to make him reach the pinnacle. It felt good, but it felt so selfish. She said there was pleasure in giving pleasure. The smile on her face when he reached the pinnacle told him there had to be pleasure in it for her.

  “What I just did is one way to get rid of the cheap torrent of a man who has abstained from intercourse for some time. It is never fun if he reaches the top too fast.”

  “In some ways, you have more experience than me.”

  “I have a wider variety of experience. Only last night did I ask for something, and you stepped up. I thank you for that. Most men won’t go down on a woman. Something to do with manhood. What’s next for us?”

  “You have the map.”

  “There is an area along the road to Deadspring that is part of a bandit kingdom. They told me in the capital that they would attempt to impede me.”

  “Can we buy them off?”

  “They did not say anything about that.”

  “We have firepower. We could fly over poisoned sands. How are they powered?”

  “Get dressed. I have to wipe this off of my face. Let’s ask the Sultan about his neighbors to the South.”

  Brian was the last to join the team. Everyone hid a smirk when Brian walked in with a languid pace. They all walked to the Presence tent for the Sultan. He finished a cup of tea.

  “Come in. Come in. You have something to ask?”

  Ofana laughed. “You old Desert Buzzard you can read a map just as well as I. There is that Desert bandit group south of you. What do you know of it?”

  “It’s a small group. They used to hold up the supply convoy. The convoys would give them a tithe of what they carried. That stopped, and the convoys started carrying mercenaries with some military level tech. They started dying off. I haven’t been bothered by them in years.”

  “Very good, would you happen to know the warriors they have?” asked Brian.

  “The last time I checked they had ten to twenty bandits. They have not been blessed with children either. Some Scientist told me that the Rether Expanse has some sort of isiorope...”

  “I believe the term is called isotope, Sultan.”

  “Thank you, Special Agent Brian Butler. An Isotope of Cesium is what he said.”

  Ofana looked at Brian with concern. “How dangerous is that?”

  “At a minimum, it will clean out the little swimmers from the men. Probably damage the ovum of the women. At worst increase the incidents of cancers. It’s a death sentence if they stay there. Let me ask somethi
ng of Amarantha.”

  “Amarantha, Question: Cesium poisoning in the Rether expanse, have we overflown target area?”

  “Yes, what is your exact question?”

  “Has there been a nuclear explosion in the last three or four years in the target area.”

  “Affirmative, plutonium triggered Lithium device was exploded in a shallow trench approximately one hundred miles from the great southern road. Census data, such as it is here, indicates that the nomadic warriors were very much in the kill zone of the device. The signature of the bomb indicates Alphacent manufacture at 82 percent. That percentage is a virtual lock.”

  “Damn,” said Brian. “This does not sound like Alphacent.”

  “Who would do it? It is against the Grand Convention,” said Ofana, “to test a nuclear device on any planet.”

  “Alphacent would not do anything to warrant a retaliatory strike for Giesling.”

  “Then who,” asked Ofana?

  “A non-governmental entity,” said Brian.

  “Planetary Interests?” asked Ofana.

  “Isn’t this Planetary Interests a company, how could they get a nuclear device?” asked the Sultan.

  Brian guffawed at the thought. If you are of high enough status, you could browbeat a mid clerk into issuing you one of the warheads in the vault.

  “Why would they get one of the horrendous things, and explode it practically in my backyard,” asked the Sultan?

  “If a person is unfamiliar with this explosive, they might explode one to see what it can do,” said Brian.

  “That must mean they have another one,” said the Sultan.

  “Lord above,” said Ofana.

  “We can go round and round trying to figure out where they will deploy it. The owner’s of the nuke tested it here. Let’s assume that they are planning to use it on Giesling. What would happen politically if the mining guild headquarters goes up in a flash of light,” asked Brian?

  “The remaining members of the guild could use it to change the vote. They could reform the guild with a different name and run based on the ‘tragedy.’”

  “Sapient analysis, You know, as well, it might have a further effect. It could launch a civil war, and that would embroil the entire world.”