Jolly Perkens maintained a blasé veneer and replied, “Calm down agent. You can holster that weapon.”
“How could Jolly just sit there and act so unimpressed?” Justine jumped and moved toward the door. Jolly’s voice caught her. “Nobody leaves.”
“Fuck you, Jolly. I’ve been waiting all my life for this very moment. I want to see this thing with my own eyes. Are you coming? You can chat with the White House on the way. Come on! The action is outside!”
The bull muttered something. The great man was not handling this assignment very well. The whole case raised too many questions – questions for which he didn’t want to know the answers. After an awkward moment, he slowly started to nod his head. He forced Justine to look at nervous eyes. Rising, he solemnly exclaimed, “Good god, you’re right woman. This is history.” The two leapt through the door - even Jolly’s voluble figure - with phones in hand, speaking with their respective offices.
Justine barked at her man, “Are you getting this?”
“Yes, ma’am. No radiation. No infrared signals. And this swirling dust doesn’t seem to be driven by an engine exhaust. Just the presence of the ship is kicking up the debris. Magnetic fields possibly? The machine is amazing - so large and it just hovers.”
While her man spoke, Justine could overhear Jolly’s conversation. “He had to be talking to the president.” The FBI Director wheezed for air as he tumbled down the old staircase. He was slowing them down. Pushing past, she shouted one final instruction. “I’m heading outside to look at this thing with my own eyes. Can you do me a favor?”
“Whatever you need, ma’am.”
“Please make sure the satellites are one hundred percent operational so we can track the spaceship when it takes off. And one other thing?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t have too much fun tonight?” She smiled into the receiver.
“You know I will, ma’am.” She could hear the return smile in his voice. A miracle was happening and they had front row seats.
As soon as Justine hung-up she heard Jolly say, “Yes, Mr. President. We are almost outside and will see the spacecraft with our own eyes. Sir, I’m not sure there is much we can do other than watch and wait. Nothing works here.” Jolly put his hand against the wall to steady himself.
Outside, the old building moved like a hive on fire. People swarmed and buzzed round the theatre to get a view of the spaceship. Justine ran down the stairs simultaneously watching the video they fed to her mobile device. She bruised herself tripping over the brass banister. When she turned the corner, the spaceship loomed over everything. At the checkpoint, she flashed her security clearance and the Special Forces officer let her pass the human barrier. At this point, Justine could clearly see the young man. This Hadrian Capet jumped onto an obvious elevator. He looked like a pirate wearing a dirty tuxedo - obviously urging his friends aboard. The young basketball star made his choice and also stepped onto the lift. Justine wished that she were going as well. The other two companions followed. There were distant shouts and even applause.
The elevator moved quickly. Much faster than any earth elevator. The wind whipped young faces red as flying dust pricked at their skin. When they cleared the building, the four could easily see a small army in the yellow streetlights. Ineffective sharp shooters sat on the roof. Military helicopters circled but were unable to approach.
Hadrian’s elevator pulled them right to the ship’s reception. An enormous green leaf welcomed the earthlings as it daintily arched above the hatch like an umbrella. A door shushed open revealing the grand dome. Immediately, the ship moved toward the black sky. In seconds, they rode the clouds with only a bump here or there as sensors seamlessly adjusted for a smooth ride. The three earthlings quickly realized what was happening and rushed to the dome’s edge looking down upon their planet.
Exuberant at their escape and happy to welcome his friends, the boy in Hadrian shouted, “Music on.” Immediately, a favorite seventies song roared through ship’s audio. Ben and Shayne jumped at the sound. Angela remained calm - next puzzled, and then she shouted over the din, “Music off!”
The room went silent. The prince said in a stern voice, “Jessica! Did I say…?”
Jessica interrupted, “My lord, we need to be mindful of our guests.”
Hadrian looked hurt, “I always imagined this moment.”
But nobody wanted to talk with a teeming planet below. Cries of wonder escaped the three friends. Hadrian called their attention to the outline of the North American continent. The ocean was blue and salty white clouds covered the coast.
Wide-eyed, Ben turned to Hadrian and asked, “This ship is yours?”
“In a way. All this - spreading his arms - belongs to my family.”
“Who are you, then,” asked Shayne? His manner now serious.
“Jessica? Who am I?”
The lady computer’s perfectly modulated voiced purred, “Your Hadrian is officially known as his royal highness, Prince Hadrian of Teramar, heir to the living throne and the future ruler of thirty six planets, lord and master of a billion subjects.”
The computer’s reference to “your Hadrian” wasn’t lost on Shayne.
The prince added, “Let me introduce my computer, Jessica. She is the one who looks after me.”
A halo-screen splashed down, presenting Jessica’s unremarkable, three-dimensional face. With a glimmer of warmth, Jessica said, “Angela, Shayne and Ben, welcome aboard.” She gave them the dry smile of a character from an earth video game.
Ben grumbled, “Of course she says ‘and Ben.’ Why am I always last?”
“Because you’re tallest,” Angela answered. She playfully turned to the computer’s halo-image and said, “My dear, a little lipstick would do wonders for you. You actually have a pretty face.”
“Thank you, Miss Munoza. Computers don’t spend their time contemplating personal appearance.”
“Well, you should. It would help your interactions with these young men. Maybe consider becoming a good looking male?”
“Angela,” barked the prince in a loud voice. “Please.”
Fiercely, she looked at Hadrian and said, “We really did miss all the clues about you. I’m not talking about your being gay.”
Shayne went next. “We did miss all the clues about you. So your highness, why are you here on earth, gracing us with your presence?”
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Your highness - that’s what they call you on your world, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but don’t…”
“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you living in New York?” Shayne accused the prince with his eyes. Here was the anger from being “lied to” these many months.
“I didn’t come here by choice.” The prince’s brow furrowed.
“The truth now…” The other’s tone was softer.
“Alright,” Hadrian managed. Slowly, he rolled to the beginning. “As you might suspect, my world lies at a great distance from earth – a far away galaxy, six months at the speed of light. And compared to earth’s fluid society, Teramar is a place that never seems to change. Using the ancient Greeks as a metaphor, Earth would be artistic Athens and my world would be conservative Sparta.”
“What’s this Sparta,” asked Ben?
Angela sighed at her newfound friend. “Jesus. Come on dummy. The ancient Greeks. Grade school. Sparta was the military city-state and Athens was the democracy.”
Ben ground out, “I’m not dumb, woman. No need to call me names.”
Shayne interrupted, “Everyone please shut up! Let him speak.”
The prince considered each face. Hadrian was eager to finally get it all out, once and for all. Looking for a place to start, he said, “As Jessica explained, I am indeed a prince, whereas my father is the actual king of Teramar. My family has ruled our people for generations. Yet prior to my father’s house coming to power, my mother’s family, named the Uriah, ruled our people.”
The prince paused. A bit of the old accent crept back. Gathering up his thoughts, Hadrian continued, “A long time ago, my father’s family forcibly threw out my mother’s people as the supreme rulers of Teramar. Endless war seems to be the essence of who we are. After many generations passed, my father eventually ascended to the throne as king. He knew bitter resentments continued to fester so he earnestly tried to put a salve on the old rivalries, marrying the daughter of a Uriah prince, my mother. He also appointed members of her family to important positions within our government. While my father thought there was genuine progress toward peace, we woke up one day to our own bloody coup led by my mother.” Hadrian heaved with some emotion as the story reminded him of his responsibility as prince and the death of Cox. It was a long day.
“My people found your planet years ago. There aren’t many worlds such as yours and ours. But thanks to my grandfather, earth’s discovery was not widely known on Teramar. After they seized father, I eluded capture and made the long journey to your system.”
Silence continued to fill the room. This was a gloomy tale - the prince as refugee. The young people awkwardly looked at each other. Shayne finally managed, “I’m sorry, Hadrian. It sounds like you’ve had a rough time of it. All by yourself. So far from home.”
Abruptly, the sun broke across the dome, which automatically turned to cool grey. Simultaneously, the golden light revealed the great warship that lay ahead. They were on an intercept course. Distracted by what appeared to be a small planet, Angela excitedly asked, “And that is…? …Getting bigger!”
Hadrian explained, “That is a galaxy class starship, our ultimate destination. The vessel was technically built for war and will be used to defend earth if that becomes necessary. We call it, Atossa, after my grandmother.”
“So big,” Angela whispered.
BOOM. BOOM. An echo from the warship’s gravitational environment made everyone but the prince jump. Carefully, the transport hover slid into the hanger and came to full stop. An invisible door materialized. The sound of water invaded the bridge. Birds could be heard. The earthlings turned toward the curiously soothing, natural sounds.
Pitching his voice for persuasion, Hadrian said, “Follow your ears. My quarters are fit for a king as they say. Go on.” Prior to today, he had never really used voice on his friends, but they appeared utterly disheveled and needed to be wheedled out of the hover. “Come on guys. Follow me.”
The group cautiously moved with eyes wide open into the main atrium where a large marble pool and grotto of trees invited them. The hall was designed to both impress visitors but more practically keep the royal family refreshed on a long journey. Angela looked around in wonder. She exclaimed, “Incredible. So many trees – it’s like we are on vacation in Hawaii although I’ve never been to Hawaii.”
At poolside, there was a large elegant living room where polished stone stairs led to the water. Longing to rinse off the day’s dirty ruckus, the prince shouted with invitation in his voice, “How about a swim?” One could easily see the turquoise liquid was heated. A warm mist rose off the surface. Eagerly, he pulled off his soiled clothes and dove, surfacing with a blow of air.
“Aghhhh. That feels so good.”
Watching the prince’s familiar body rush past, Shayne undid his belt and let the wool slacks carelessly drop around large feet. He then dove into the blue water with a much larger and less elegant splash.
Shayne wasn’t a strong swimmer either. He doggie paddled as a little boy. The tall man then realized he could touch the bottom and began to walk in long strides. “Come and get me,” invited the prince. He was sitting on an island of polished marble.
After Shayne propped himself on the stone shelf, he admitted, “You know - Ben and I knew about you before today. Agent Huber came to the apartment.” Warm thighs touched. Dark skin rubbed the white as curly legs fluttered like a bed of sea moss. Missed opportunity drove an electric current of industrial proportion.
Hadrian wasn’t listening to his friend’s words. All he could do was watch those lips move. Today was the first time they were together in weeks. Awkwardly, the prince moved for an ill-timed kiss, missing his friend’s mouth. “Too fast?” Shayne wasn’t put off. Their eyes quickly found the other. The big man then pulled Hadrian to him for something better.
“Ahemm,” Ben coughed loudly.
Hadrian looked over his shoulder and said to the other two. “Sorry. You know how reunions are – especially after a disagreement.” Shayne was whispering something into the prince’s ear. “Jessica has a suite of rooms for the two of you.”
A halo-screen dropped with a leafy green arrow affixed to it. “Please follow me,” Jessica’s smooth voice emerged.
Angela looked up at Ben. “Come on. Those two should be an inspiration to us.” Her voice purred encouragement to the large man who wasted no time rolling his arm around the girl’s waste. “Yes indeed, Angie. The gays always get me rowdy…”
The Queen’s Apartment
Worry lines inched across her perfectly manicured face. Accumulated stress from the lava flow of responsibility was taking a toll. Nothing sat right lately. The longer the Capet insurgency wrecked its havoc, the more the queen squirmed at what they asked her to do to stamp it out. The worst was the monthly list her brother delivered without fail. He made her complicit in all the executions. This last round, however, she had the temerity to cross a number of names off the list. This impetuous penchant for mercy was certainly noticed by the men she supposedly ruled.
Livia ordered the lights low in her sanctuary. The effect was flattering. She smiled at the mirror and simultaneously pulled at the skin erasing one of the deeper lines round her mouth. She had a halo-report running in the background. These briefings were the watered, redacted reports her brother’s men fed to her. Usually, they dumped a long list of subjects prior to important appearances. They needed her majesty to speak in one voice with the Uriah high command.
Just as her husband kept many mistresses, the queen firmly believed she was entitled to the same indulgence, despite the grumblings from senior men. Livia came to rely on her daily mill as the only means of frivolous escape. Quietly or loudly – depending with whom one spoke, she slipped deeper and deeper into this life of surreal pleasure where she learned to become a great connoisseur of herself. The queen even designed her own toys and aphrodisiacs, culminating in Cataline’s most recent, powerful serum that guaranteed percussive orgasms. (“That’s plural.”) Although the royal vulva now ached from use, this miraculous new potion could always fortify for yet another round. Unfortunately, the queen had transformed into a relentless addict. Rarely, did she leave the grand bedroom. Her once muscled body was getting soft, as she ate and drank whatever she fancied.
All this excess was insufficient solace. The fate of her daughter, the brave Princess Alian, continued to weigh on her mind despite best efforts to erase the unpleasant memory of recent events. Weeks into the interrogations, Charles still wouldn’t permit any view to what happened in that building. Although Livia feigned a lack of interest, she truly harbored a mother’s worry for the fate of her child. Charles would sermonize, “Livia, my sister, my queen, we cannot have you directly involved. You are too close to this situation. Your daughter and husband still retain critical pieces of information. We need to get all the facts to assure our survival. If we fail here, don’t you think they’ll turn the same blade upon us?” He always sounded so impatient when she questioned him as if speaking to a spoiled child.
But Livia quietly disagreed with that assessment. If the king miraculously turned things around, escaped the jail and incredibly got the upper hand militarily, she doubted he would then move to exterminate the whole Uriah clan with the same alacrity her own family pursued his. The king, her husband, was far too generous, a trait that Charles deplored.
The worst of it was Charles’s frequent request to tour the important battle zones and raise moral. Livia could easily see beyond the edges of the lacquered carapa
ce they erected around her. She faced the skinny children. She noted the absence of men. Livia could smell the fear and more easily the hate. Needless to say, she put a great hope in the armada they dispatched to deep space. News of Hadrian’s capture would give everything a reason for pause.
Windowless oval doors loudly clicked open as two young men cantered into the large room. Tall and broad with milky skin and thick lashes, the boys were perfect twins. Precious to the casual eye, a gigolo’s leer gave away Livia’s influence. “Why wouldn’t they stare at me,” she began to ramble?
After waving a lazy hand to dismiss the halo-report, a shimmering tray of sweet wine floated to rest upon a long slab of smooth stone. The boys were nude, hairless except for neat, black patches. One of the boys handed a brimming chalice to Livia who took a long deep draught of Cataline’s recipe. She held it out for more. “Greedy girl,” he sneered in his boy’s voice. The other heard this and viciously slapped the royal visage with a loud crack. The glass flew out of her hand and crashed against the marble. The red mark of a large hand burned her face. The sensation certainly hurt but it also inspired a necessary lubricousness. The young colts crowded round their white mare. The talking boy said, “You’re getting fatter little pig.” From behind, he ripped the queen’s gown. Her breasts bounced forward like a fresh halo-screen. He cupped them. A soft slurping noise announced the session had officially begun. Primordial murmurs of “Oooo and Aghhh” began to slither about the bed.
Here, in her most private chamber, she invited an amusing degradation. But outside these walls, no one would dare speak to the queen in such a manner and live to tell about it. The few leakers were always the stupid ones. Always caught and always dead. “Get ready.” The boy pushed Livia to her hands. The anticipation made her wild. Abruptly, the room’s soft lighting turned bright like an office. The soft music went to a quick fade. The boys stopped. The queen anticipated his voice.
Teramar: The Gathering Night Page 26
