Play Testers Wanted: Pt. 21
The Road to Sanctuary:
We put the top down and left the Numenor compound; before too long, we were on the highway. I remember hearing the story of how bad traffic was before the AI took over the burden and kept things nice and smooth. Few cars now did not possess an AI link allowing for autopilot. It maintained traffic control, removed most accidents, and kept the flow of vehicles so that while your car might slow down, it was nowhere near the past jams. Our route took us from California to Nevada and eventually to Oklahoma City. We took a break, rented a room at a nice hotel, and stretched our legs.
I did not expect to be recognized and have people flock to get my autograph. Akira let it go for a bit, but she urged me to return to the hotel when the crowd grew too large for her to handle. Instead, I embraced my fans and searched for an impromptu location to hold a Q&A session. I contacted a nearby high school with a football field for help. When I mentioned my name, they bent over backward to assist me. When I arrived at the location, people filled the seats, and the fans had also taken over the sideline. Surfer tapped into the audio equipment, using my smartwatch to utilize the loudspeakers.
“Thanks for coming,” I began. The crowd cheered, hooted, and whistled. “I know this is off the cuff, but it is only fair to give back to you, the fans, for supporting me since I joined the Numenor playtesters. Thank you from the bottom of my hearts.” They roared their approval. “I want this to go smoothly and not get out of hand. I will choose one person from each section to ask questions and then from these good folks on the field. If this gets rowdy or chaotic, I will have to end this. Is that okay with everyone?” The response was a resounding yes. “Okay, let us begin.” I let Surfer randomly select people from each group to stand and pose their query.
“Are you single?” The first question from the first fan got everyone laughing.
“Yes. Next question.”
“Are you as good with a sword out of the game as in?”
“I’d like to think so, yeah.”
“Can you show us some moves?”
“I saw that one coming a mile off, here. One of your fans wanted this autographed,” Akira said as she whispered in my ear and handed me the bokken, or wooden practice sword. “Go on, impress them.”
“Looks like the Q&A just became a show and tell. Alright,” I replied. The fans cheered as I accepted the bokken and adjusted my grip. “Form One to start with.”
It was surprisingly easy to slip into that state of mind. The sword felt good in my hand, and the field fell silent as I worked through the first series of moves. When I finished, I could see they wanted more. I stripped off my shirt since I had started sweating and began form two. By the time I ended form seven, they were cheering. One of the teachers from the high school stepped onto the field and offered me a towel and a bottle of water. I thanked her, and she planted a quick peck on my cheek. I dried off and placed the towel over my shoulders.
“Who is your favorite villain?” A girl asked as the questions began again.
“Ooh, that is difficult,” I replied. “If I had to choose someone to cross swords with, it would be either Darth Bane or Exar Kun.”
“There are talks about the Olympics allowing lightsaber dueling this year. Have you been tapped to represent the US?”
“No. The style the committee wants is more like traditional fencing than what you see in the movies or games. I am not knocking them, but I prefer free-form combat to simply scoring with quick lunges. Next.”
My words had an impact though I didn’t know it then. The backlash from twenty million fans worldwide made the Olympic committee rethink the event. Since it was too close to change the rules and did not want to upset the fans, they canceled the demo. I took the heat from fans and would-be Olympians alike. Later I pleaded for the agency to rethink its decision and posted an apology online, hoping it would change their minds. After answering questions, I returned to our hotel room with Akira after an hour.
“Well, that was interesting,” Akira giggled. “Who knew they’d have such a knee-jerk reaction?”
“I hadn’t finished answering questions, and boom, they lose their collective shit. Welcome to the information age.”
“I’m just glad they reversed it,” Akira said. “A certain someone would have been hurt if they hadn’t.”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied. There was a knock at the door, and Akira leaped to her feet and drew her weapon. “Nervous much?”
“All those people and outdoors, I guess I am paranoid,” Akira said as she approached the door. “Who is it?”
“Room service, compliments of the management,” the man said.
“Well, isn’t that nice,” I said as Akira unlocked and opened the door.
The hulking figure burst into the room, and the door slammed into Akira, knocking her back and off-balance. He was six feet five and heavily muscled. Despite his bulk, the assassin moved with great agility. Luckily I still had the bokken the fan had given me. I shoulder rolled and came up with the weapon in my hand. I blocked the expertly aimed knife thrust and responded with a palm strike to my opponent’s nose. Cartilage shattered under the assault, but it barely slowed him down. He produced a second knife, and I went on the defensive. The blades whistled as they cut through the air and only instinct and long hours of training saved me before Akira recovered and joined the conflict. She switched to her dagger since firing her pistol would have killed the assailant and me. The assassin rolled away and put a wall at his back to avoid a fight on two fronts. Akira and I staggered our attacks to try and throw him off his game, but this guy was professional and well-trained. While I landed a few solid strikes and Akira left shallow cuts, his speed and accuracy were undiminished.
“Goddamn it,” the voice cursed from the open door. “I told you to wait for me.”
Akira spun to face the second assassin. The first had been tall and stocky, but this guy was only six feet and thin and wiry. If anything, he was faster than his partner. Akira’s decades of training saved her from a quick end and turned the tables. I faced the brute, and he abandoned his knives for grappling. If he got his hands around my neck, it was over. I didn’t doubt he could easily crush my windpipe. My new strategy was to use my speed, but the area didn’t lend me much maneuvering room. The confines favored my opponent. I managed to land a solid strike on his chest and discovered a new problem.
“Fuck, that hurt,” I cursed as my fist struck something hard beneath his skin. “This fucker has got some sort of subdermal armor.”
“Go for joints or his eyes,” Akira suggested as she managed to cut the second assassin along his right arm. I was too busy to see him switch the knife to his left hand and continue undiminished.
“They warned us that you were highly trained,” the first assassin laughed. “Pity the others won’t get a chance to test you. Your life ends here and now.”
Surfer silently informed me that the assassin was not protecting his abdomen and relied on his armor to shield it.
‘If you can produce enough force, you can drive that same armor against his ribs and crush his heart.’
‘Allow me,’ Left offered. ‘I will tell you when I am ready.’
‘Ready, ready for what?’
‘You’ll see,’ he replied.
I tried to keep the killer at bay while Left fell strangely silent. My worst fear came true. I misjudged one of his strikes, and his right hand wrapped around my throat. He squeezed slowly, and his vice-like grip forced me to hold my breath and tighten my neck muscles to slow the inevitable. He brought his face close so he could watch the life leave me.
“Just another mark,” he laughed. “No one special, just another John Doe for a pauper’s grave.”
‘Ready,’ Left announced. ‘Booker? Aw shit! I got you.’
I blacked out. The last sound to reach my ears was the assassin’s laughter. I awoke gasping for air and coughing while the hired killer lay beside me, lifeless but showing no injury besides the broken nose. Akira rushed to my side, having just dispatched her foe a moment before. After Akira was confident I would live, she called for a clean-up crew. The helicopter arrived fifteen minutes later, the Silent Shadows sprung into action, and after an hour, the scene had been scrubbed clean. Akira and I settled down to munch on a large pepperoni pizza and mutely took in what had happened.
“That makes the second attempt,” Akira said with a clinical tone to her voice.
“Just eight more to go,” I replied. “I don’t feel so shaken up.”
“You were defending yourself. How did you do that?” Akira asked.
“Do what?” I asked. “I blacked out at the end.”
“That flash of light, it was silvery green.”
“Left?” I asked, but he didn’t respond immediately. “Hey, are you okay?”
‘I am here, barely,’ Left whispered silently. ‘That took a lot out of my reserves.’
“Thank you for saving my life.” Left was too weak to respond. “Rest.”
“I have heard stories about Left,” Akira said. “Forgive me for being blunt. Many of them depict him as less than generous.”
“I guess even an ancient Hyperborean wizard can change his ways. I need a long hot bath,” I said.
“I’ll go run the water. I ensured this room had a huge bathtub.”
We settled into the tub and sat opposite one another. Akira’s sigh of relief made me giggle. I closed my eyes to take in the water’s heat and relax. The bathroom was relatively quiet. The inconsistent drip from the faucet caught my attention. Akira’s soft, steady breathing followed this. Then the gentle buzzing sound reminded me of white noise or the velvety rumble of thunder. What was that?
“Do you hear that?”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Well, it is reminiscent of a distant thunderstorm.”
Akira cocked her head a bit and listened. “Nope. I don’t hear anything. Maybe it is a touch of tinnitus.”
“Perhaps,” I agreed.
The vibration was low enough to be missed during the day. At night or when my surroundings were tranquil, it manifested unceasingly. What was the source of this sound? The volume and pitch never changed no matter what direction I turned my head. Distance also was not a factor. Wherever we went, I could hear it. Left whispered something ominous before he fell into a silent healing coma. It begins. What the hell did that mean? My well-honed patience paid off as I placed his cryptic message for later perusal. The buzzing became a series of musical notes when I tried to clear my thoughts. I hummed them to see how they sounded. The longer I hummed it, the less annoying the background noise became. The humming evolved into me singing the tune loud enough for Akira to hear it.
“I know that song.”
“It is the noise I told you about, not a bad little tune.”
“I learned it as a child in the temple. We use it to meditate, treat injuries, or focus our minds before a conflict.”
“Why am I hearing it now?”
“The Eldest Sister tells the story of the sleeping dragon, mightiest of his kindred, and he will awaken at some point in an unknown future.”
“Let sleeping dragons lie,” I joked.
Akira shifted and leaned against me; instinctively, my arm went around her waist. When she chuckled softly, I asked what was so funny. Akira replied that I protected the bodyguard with a simple gesture. It began with another simple action as my hand slid between her legs and gently teased her. Akira’s moan let me know that I should continue. My free hand cupped her breast and caressed her shamelessly. When Akira began rising, I halted her with a few soothing words.
“Relax. Enjoy. Let me have this.”
She wiggled her ass and spread her legs for easier access. I told her about my first clumsy attempts as a lover when I was younger.
“My first kiss was a nightmare. Our heads collided, and I nearly chipped the girl’s tooth. Don’t laugh; dental insurance is terrible in the US. I guess we all fumble at that age.”
“No, I have always been a gifted partner,” Akira bragged. “I studied at the feet of some of the continent’s most gifted courtesans and assassins. Europe was an excellent place to learn sexcraft. Older men are so trusting and eager to show an inexperienced girl what and how to perform a myriad of naughty sexual favors. I accomplished my first kills with barely a whimper from the target. Though, you never forget your first slit throat. The dramatic way the blood sprays and fills the air with a coppery scent as the man lies gurgling as he perishes. Of course, it takes a long hot shower with plenty of body wash and shampoo to get the blood out. Don’t stop; I was nearly there.”
“Let’s dry off and bring things to the next level.”
“Booker, did the arrival of the assassins bring up old memories?”
“Yeah, I suppose they did. It leaves a mark when you see your life flash before your eyes. I guess I was feeling nostalgic. You wanna fuck?”
“Mmm, I thought you’d never ask.”
We dried off, munched on cold pizza, and then with Akira’s permission, made some sensual suggestions. My bodyguard leaned against the tall glass window looking out over the city. Akira bent at the waist with her ass aimed at the bed where I sat and began her performance.
“Do you like what you see, mister?” She asked as her hand snaked between her legs and gently parted her labia. “I am soaked thinking about your ‘hard cock’ inside me. My snug little pussy remembers it so well and aches for more. Ooh, look at you, is my dirty talk getting to you? I hope so. I want to make your dreams come true. Watch me.”
Akira’s fingers slid between her pussy lips as she played with herself. The more she rubbed, the slicker she became. All the while, she moaned and ground her hips in the air. Akira raised her hand and opened her fingers to show how her fluids formed glistening strings between her digits, which is when her finger crooked in my direction.
“Get over here and fuck me.”
Who was I to refuse an invitation like that? I approached her slowly, knelt behind her, and buried my face between her ass cheeks.
“Oh, that tongue of yours, I missed you so much. Do what you will; I am your plaything.”
I was too busy eating her out to respond. My fingers dug into her firm cheeks and pulled them apart. I lapped at her slit and tongued her asshole to see which got the more visceral reaction. At the moment, they were neck and neck. So with a liberal application of her pussy juices to my fingers, I invaded her backside with my index and middle fingers into Akira’s ass. Meanwhile, my tongue performed a pincer maneuver on the second front and buried itself deep in her slit. My bodyguard’s reaction was priceless, and for a moment there, I saw beneath her frigid analytical exterior.
“Please.”
I stopped teasing her, stood, and gave her what she wanted. I teased her a bit longer by using the tip of my erection before thrusting deep into her. We both groaned as my length penetrated slowly to her core. For an instant, I could see her targets being so engrossed with her beauty and sensuality that they let their guard down. How many of them got this far, and how many perished before she climaxed? Akira wasn’t the enemy. Now time to enjoy our time together.
“Balls deep achievement received, now fuck me senseless.”
I leaned forward, using my body weight to force Akira’s tits to press against the cold, unyielding glass window. As I thrust against her, the window smooshed her breasts and forced her to utter a soft grunt each time. Akira knew when to push back and when to relent. Her warm wet heat enveloped me and gave me such pleasure to almost make me forget the attack from earlier today. I grabbed Akira by the hair and pulled her into a blistering kiss as our first climax built quickly, and it would be the first of many that night. I picked up speed when I felt her legs begin to quiver.
“What did I miss?” Left asked as he awoke a minute before my orgasm. “Hoo boy, that was a close one. How could you fuck such a fine filly without me?”
“Not now, Left,” Akira growled.
The ancient Atlantean sorcerer was wise enough to fall silent and enjoy the ride. The last moments were fast, intense, and unforgettable. When we climaxed together, I got full marks from Left even though I wasn’t asking for his opinion. I learned later that Left was able to channel sexual energy into a healing force that sped up his recovery. By the time midnight rolled around, all three of us were ready to sleep. So, under the watchful eye of the other Silent Shadows, Akira and I slept peacefully until dawn.
The dragon song accompanied me into my dreams. Once more, I shared Left’s memories and stood upon the battlefield of forgotten epochs of history where the Atlanteans ruled the Earth and their ever-expanding empire seemed unstoppable. However, this time, as Left performed his spells and enchantments, I heard it and knew the source of the music. The ley lines coursed with unfathomable power, and as one drew close, you could listen to the rhythmic pulsations in the form of the draconic melody.
“The dragon lines are awakening!”
I woke with those words upon my lips. The promise of a new age was on the horizon. What would it mean for the majority of humanity? How would they react to its return? When I opened my eyes, she was not in bed. A naked Akira looked out over the city from the room’s balcony, so I moved behind her and held her close. I closed my eyes and processed whether or not the dream was anything more than a nocturnal vision.
“Nick and I were lovers for years,” she said, her voice weak and uncertain. “He knew something bad was on the horizon. I think he knew he was going to die.”
“I am sure he was a gentle partner,” I said, and she laughed. “Oh?”
“You and Nick are similar,” she growled. “You both like treating women like we are indestructible sex machines… god love you.”
“I can be gentle when I want,” I said as she ground against me.
“Yeah, right,” she laughed as she reached between us, took aim, and I pushed my hips forward slowly. “Damn, I have missed you.”
“What do you think we’ll find?” I asked as I moved gently. She clenched around me as she let out a sensual yet thoughtful grunt. “Satellite shows nothing there.”
“Then… oh god, yes… we’ll pick up a small two-person tent, camp there, and fuck like bunnies for a few days.” She said as she grabbed the balcony’s railing and walked her feet back until her spine was horizontal. “The time for gentle is over.” Surfer managed to keep hotel security from calling the police and tipped them generously. Akira’s screams echoed against the nearby office buildings. I grabbed a fistful of her long ebony mane and pulled her head up. “I swear to god, if you make a clucking sound, I will kick your ass. I am not that kind of girl.”
“If I tell you that you are my bitch what would you say?” I asked as I pulled back and paused.
“Unn…” she hesitated, fighting the urge to submit. I slammed my hips forward, and she shrieked as she climaxed.
“It is okay. I would never demean you that way.” I said as she recovered.
“Unless I asked real nice.” She gasped as her entire body shivered. “Damn… did I mention how much I missed you?”
“I am just getting started. Doc says the changes are complete. After everything, I need to let out some steam.” I told her as I snatched her off her feet, walked to the balcony’s edge, and fucked her standing up. “Hell of a view.” Akira just grunted each time I hit deep. “I can do this all morning, young lady.”
“I hope so. I give up. Surrender. Capitulate.” She whimpered as my cock swelled inside of her. “Cum inside of me, Master, please, Booker… I need it.”
I thought my stamina in-game was impressive. It felt like I was stronger outside the damn game. We stopped before seven only because I was becoming dehydrated. We also shared a nice hot bath and two pitchers of ice-cold water.
“The game got hacked,” I said, and she nodded. “I kind of figured you and yours would be monitoring me. Anything you know that you can share?”
“Not much. Kat buttoned up the AI traffic early on. The moment Kyanna put the sphere into the navicomputer, the hack began. They timed it perfectly.” She paused to finish the contents of her glass and refilled it. “Whoever it is, they used an unlicensed satellite to perform the attack.”
“Hold on, an unlicensed satellite? How is that even possible?” I asked, confused, and seeing her smile filled me with a mild dread for what she was about to say.
“Did you read the briefing I sent you regarding the Janus Gate?” She asked.
I shook my head. Surfer brought up the file. I dropped into the digital ether and read the file four times because it was so ludicrous, but clearly, it was real. I blinked and nodded for her to continue.
“Nick opened Janus twenty years ago to settle a dispute between the Order and the Osirian Council. Since then, unknown subatomic particles have flooded the Earth and this universe. Nick never revealed the real reason for opening the damned thing. Nick grew up bathed in the non-ionizing radiation the gate gave off. They had it cracked open back then. Shaw Senior moved the gate to your mom’s house when you were a child, hoping it would awaken any latent abilities.”
“I am sure there was no gate in the house I grew up in.” I retorted. “I think I would know.”
“Your mom’s full-length mirror, the one with the gold trim and the naughty cherub on top.” She replied, grinning. “The one she masturbated to on a fairly regular basis.”
“Oh… that one,” I said, remembering mom howling as she climaxed. “I stand corrected. Do continue.”
“I suspect since the doctors at Numenor don’t have that information, they don’t know why the nanites went ape shit and did what they did. I suspect all that stored energy in your cells powered the transformation. You were a ticking time bomb.”
“Time for you two to meet officially,” I said and lifted my left hand, palm out. “Say hello.”
“Hello, lovely lady,” Left said, revealing his face to Akira.
“Hidari Yami No Te…” she gasped in awe reverting to her native Japanese. “I had read about you in a briefing, but to see you with my own eyes.”
“Left Hand of Darkness?” I stated, and Left chuckled. “You chastised him earlier.”
“I told you I had many names over the years.” Left reminded me. “Besides, she had every right to do so during such an intimate moment.”
The Show-Me State:
We chatted until the water turned cold. We got out, dried off, and dressed. The sun was up, and it was time to check out and start the next leg of our journey. Akira drove, and we took highway 44 north towards Missouri. I fell asleep and had a dream that felt so damn real. I stood in front of a tall basalt tower with lightning crackling between my fingers. I uttered arcane syllables and thrust my hands forward. The energy wrecked the tower’s exterior as the air sheared and things flew through the rift. I thought they were gargoyles, but they weren’t. They were winged demons from the literal pit of hell. I raised my hands and sent the searing bolts into the host. I uttered a new set of syllables, and a second portal opened, and angelic beings gleaming like daylight slammed into the demons. I lowered my hands in triumph.
“Let them battle it out,” I said before the killing spell struck.
Instinct kicked in, and I poured my life and wisdom into one of my extremities. My power made it immortal and invulnerable from all but the direst of magics. I am not dreaming. No. I am reliving his last moments as a complete being.
“Yes. That was one of the last times the gate was open for an extended period. The ghost lines will erupt, and the world will change.” Left said solemnly.
I woke, and the aircar was idle. Akira was watching me sleep. I looked around to find we parked in front of a gas station. We did not need gas, but Akira was hungry and thirsty. I got out, and she informed me we were in Springfield, Missouri. I opened the door for her, and she walked into the convenience store like she owned the place. The young lady behind the counter greeted us and smiled at me.
“It is nice when a guy treats a lady with respect,” Akira said. “Ice cream?”
“Right over there,” the clerk replied, pointing.
I grabbed a four-pack of energy drinks and set it on the counter. The clerk could not have been older than twenty and cute in the ways midwestern girls tended to be. I especially liked the line of freckles dusted across the bridge of her nose. She was down-to-earth and charming as all hell.
“Where did you find her?” The clerk asked.
“She is my… aw shit,” I cursed as the two-armed robbers rushed inside. I instinctively moved between the gunmen and the clerk. “Listen, we can work this out. No one needs to get hurt.”
“Motherfucker,” the taller of the two masked men hollered. “I will be the one to….”
“Holy shit, it is him.” The second man interrupted and lowered his weapon. “It is Booker! Dude, I am your biggest fan.”
“You guys need money,” I said, and they cringed. “Listen, life is hard on all of us at one time or another.” I took out my wallet and removed all the cash I had. There were perhaps two hundred dollars. “Here, take it. Don’t hurt the girl, okay.” They hesitated and took the money after thirty seconds or so. “Go on home and seriously rethink things. If I can help, I will. No one needs to get injured. If you want to go to a trade school or something, I will do what I can.” I saw Akira in a shooting pose with her rail pistol, a handheld railgun, aimed at the robbers. I knew if they did something stupid, their brains and viscera would decorate the walls and ceiling. “Go on.”
“I told you he was the best.” The shorter of the pair exclaimed. “We are leaving.”
He turned to go and spotted Akira and the death stare she was giving him. He set his weapon on the floor and walked out slowly. His partner did the same, and I let out a sigh of relief.
“That was too close,” I said, leaning heavily against the counter. “I think I need to trade the soda for something stronger.”
“You stood in the way,” the clerk said, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. “You saved my life.”
Akira put her weapon away in its hidden holster inside her jeans. She winked and went to grab a bottle of tequila. I hopped over the counter and hugged the girl. The sheriff showed up and informed us that he had caught the two robbers outside and that his deputy had taken them into custody. The girl had hit the silent alarm while I talked the guys down. The tall, burly middle-aged man spotted the pistols on the floor and made a puzzled face.
“I was on my way here when you tripped the alarm. What in the hell happened?” He asked, and Akira gave him a play-by-play, leaving out the part about her carrying a weapon. “Hold the fuck on. I know you. You are that Booker fella; my wife always goes on about you. You are on her list, you know.”
“Her list?” I asked, smiling. I began letting go of the clerk, and she clung tight.
“You know… her list of guys if she were to meet in real life she could fuck, and it wouldn’t be a marriage ender. You are like number three behind Thor and Loki.”
“Hey, not bad,” Akira laughed. “Two gods and then you, typical.”
“You okay, pumpkin?” The sheriff asked, and the girl nodded.
“I am fine, daddy,” the clerk replied, and it only then dawned on me the obvious family resemblance.
“You are pressing charges?” He asked, and she shook her head.
“Booker gave them the money they have, and no one got hurt.” She said. “Besides, Booker will have to be caught up in this mess if I do.”
“I will give them a warning,” the sheriff reluctantly agreed. He retrieved their weapons and laughed. “Plastic. Those two idiots could have gotten themselves killed armed with these things. Booker, it has been a pleasure, I don’t suppose. What I mean is this, my wife would kill me if I didn’t at least ask to take a picture with you.”
Akira held the sheriff’s phone and snapped several photos of me with the sheriff and his daughter. After the photoshoot, we got our snacks and paid for them. The sheriff returned with his phone in hand and handed it to me. It is her, he mouthed.
“Hello?” I said. A scream of joy came from the other end of the connection.
“Oh… my… god… it is you! I am your biggest fan.” The sheriff’s wife claimed.
“I believe you,” I said, and she nearly hyperventilated. “Breathe. Calm down.” She eventually got herself under control. “I hear I am number three on your list,” I said, and the sheriff visibly flinched. He muttered the words ‘oh man’.
“That son of a bitch,” she cursed, and I fought the urge to laugh. “I… oh my god, I will die from embarrassment.”
“Nah, I bet you are a doll,” I told her, and the sheriff smiled and encouraged me to continue. “Listen, I would hate to miss out on meeting… hello? I think she hung up.”
“She is on her way.” The sheriff said, taking his phone back. “I give it twenty minutes for her to put her face on, pick out her nicest outfit, and haul ass up here.”
“I will be sitting outside sipping some tequila,” I said when the clerk dropped a verbal bomb.
“Hey, mister, are you going to fuck my mom?” She asked, and I felt my jaw drop open. Akira stepped outside just before she began laughing. “You are, aren’t you… you are so going to fuck her rotten.” I shook my head, and the clerk handed me her phone. “Swipe left all you want.”
I looked at the first photo and took a small gasp of surprise. “Damn, that is your mom? How old is this photo? Only a year, huh. A redhead, aw hell.” Akira heard that and laughed even louder.
“His kryptonite!” Akira howled as she cracked the seal on the tequila. I swiped left a lot.
“She was a beauty pageant contestant for years.” The sheriff added with a sly smile. “She loves me, and I adore the ground she walks on.”
I handed the phone back, and suddenly, a mental image of the sheriff in leathers, restraints, and a hooded mask popped into my head. I saw his wife digging her stiletto heel into his ball sack from above him. I joined Akira, and she handed me a bottle of soda.
“I guess I am driving,” I said, and Akira burst into a new round of tear-ridden laughter. “Oh, I thought she was a dom.”
“Only one way to find out. So, is she that cute?” Akira asked, her eyes kindled with a lust that only a romp in the back seat would alleviate.
“She has kept herself in perfect condition,” I replied.
I had just finished my soda when the car approached. The sheriff was long gone. He and his deputy had decided to give the would-be robbers a ride home. I suspected they got one hell of a dressing down before he let them out of the back seat. The woman parked nearby, and I realized I had forgotten to breathe. Anticipation was killing me. The driver’s side door opened, and she stepped out. The sheriff’s wife, Belinda, wore a short denim skirt, a translucent blouse, and a black bra beneath it. Her breasts were fighting to get out of that annoying silk trap. She had dressed to impress.
“It is you!” She exclaimed as she walked over. I stood to greet her, and she threw herself into my arms and hugged me. “I am your biggest fan. Thank you for meeting me.”
“She means sex,” her daughter yelled from where she was restocking the shelves.
“Hush you,” the redhead snapped. “I am not a slut.”
“Says the woman clinging to him like he’ll turn to smoke any second now.”
“Your daughter says you used to be a beauty pageant contestant,” I mentioned, and Belinda pressed her tits against me.
“Belinda,” the redhead whispered in my ear. “But you can call me whatever takes your fancy.”
“Bootilicious comes to mind,” Akira said with a chuckle. “Have you seen the back end yet, Booker?”
“Oh, are you an ass-man?” Belinda purred. “Here, take a good long look.” She urged as she spun around and ground her ass against my semi-erect cock.
“She’s got your number. Should I put up the roof on the car?” Akira asked.
“Can we slow down?” I asked. “I don’t know anything about you besides how beautiful you are.”
“Absolutely,” she said and put on the breaks. “I have followed your career from the beginning.”
“Career? I am just a play tester.” I corrected her, but she would have none of it.
“My channel covers all of your videos. I break down your problem-solving skills in and out of the game.”
“Mom means how women do anything to sleep with you. Don’t underestimate her; if I weren’t working, I’d be all over you like a second skin.” The clerk growled as she bent over to retrieve the product from a box. Her ass was as lovely as her mom’s. “Yep, he’s an ass man.”
“So, your channel covers my sex life,” I said, and Belinda blushed. “Oh boy. Are you a native of Springfield?”
“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Belinda trembled, and I laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“Not at all. A friend of mine invited me to visit. He lives,” I paused and got a fix on the direction and distance of the GPS coordinates. “…about fifteen miles in that direction,” I said, pointing. Belinda looked to where I was pointing, and she pursed her full kissable lips and made a thoughtful noise.
“There is nothing there.” The clerk called out.
“Yeah, Quickening is right, just that road that lost funding and no one uses. Yeah, that project tanked what like six years ago.” Belinda added to her daughter’s statement.
“Quickening, that is an interesting name,” I said as I had Surfer delve into the road and its financing issues.
“My dad wanted me to have a unique name. He was diagnosed with cancer and wasn’t sure he’d even see my first birthday.” She said, her eyes genuinely tearing up. She sniffled and continued. “He fought and beat it. He is in remission, but there is always that fear of it coming back.”
“I guess that explains the list,” I said, and Belinda chuckled.
“The list was just a joke. What are the odds of someone like, oh what the hell is her name?”
“Kalinka?” Quickening supplied the adult cosplayer’s name. “He is in lust with her and then some.” I pretended not to know who Kalinka was and tank the sheriff’s dream.
“She is hot. I don’t blame your dad,” I stated. “So, why me?”
“Are you kidding?” Belinda exclaimed. “You are a straight-up nice guy and easy on the eyes. You treat other gamers with respect. You bring out the best in people. There is a rumor that you inspired the gal playing Katria, which is why she went full beast mode against the Brotherhood. Speaking of inspired, can I suck your cock?”
“Your daughter is right over there.” I reminded her.
“Pfft,” Quickening made a rude noise. “Not like this isn’t the first time we shared a dude. For my nineteenth birthday, there was this drummer in a local band. He was so cute, and I was nervous, so mom and I made identical costumes, and you can guess how it played itself out.”
“Fucked him bent,” Akira added. We all looked at her, and she explained. “Anybody can fuck someone until they can’t walk or talk, but it takes a real she bitch to fuck someone bent. So, is there a No-Tell Motel around here?”
“Three? Can he handle all three of us?” Belinda asked.
“Lady, by noon tomorrow, we are likely to be the ones fucked bent,” Akira stated convincingly. “So, what do you say, Booker? Wanna break a mother-daughter team?”
“We can go to Hips, the new club that just opened a couple of months back,” Belinda said.
“If that is the case,” Akira said. “We should do a little shopping for nicer clothes. I only packed casual clothing for the road trip.”
I agreed, and we spent the next hour shopping for something a bit nicer than our current apparel. Afterward, we had an early dinner and hung out until the club opened. When we arrived, a line had formed around the block of people waiting to get in. I could feel the pulse from the music within. The exterior hinted at the building’s past, once a cinema before that, a theater dating back to Vaudeville. Surfer dug deep into the structure’s history, and one thing remained steady, the Gladstone family had built and maintained it for over a century. It screamed something tied to the Order of Chthon or one of its allies.
The four of us approached the line when several of the girls in line screamed and pointed at me.
“Booker,” one screamed.
“I love you, Booker!”
The tall brutish man watching the entrance waved us over and into the interior of Hips. It seemed prestige had its benefits. Akira began to reminisce about Studio 54 and her times there as a dancer. We navigated the sea of bodies, and not all of them were human. Maybe it was Left’s keen perception or something else, but I caught glimpses beyond the glamour they used to disguise themselves. My presence caused a stir, and soon the other patrons offered us drinks or chances to dance. I watched the band Black Kryptonite play a few cover songs before launching into a few of their own. The lead guitarist had a future, and the drummer was okay; the lead vocalist had a set of pipes on her that showed classicly training. Perhaps opera or a private vocal coach, she was too damn good to be an amateur. As I listened, I picked out her three-octave range and the powerhouse projection. She didn’t need a microphone to reach the audience. It didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous, like old-world beauty they carved statues of and hid away in temples to Aphrodite or Hera.
The band took a break, and I sent a drink over to the singer. The server handed her the glass and pointed me out, and the young lady approached. She was tall, muscular the way dancers are, and dripping with sweat from the hot lights and her performance. I snagged a bar towel and handed it to her.
“You should go pro,” I said.
“Coming from you, that is quite the compliment. I saw you walk in with three outstanding ladies surrounding you. Where are the others?”
“Around, we are unwinding before we land somewhere for hijinks of one kind or another.”
“Is that like shenanigans but more sensual?”
“It fits the bill,” I said as I got lost in her frosty blue eyes. Her suntan and mane of ebony hair made her eyes pop like crazy. “Are you on tour?”
“No, I am not a member of Black Kryptonite. I just asked nicely to let me sing with them. I own this franchise, and you and your friends drink for free.”
“Hips, that is such an odd name for a club.”
“It stands for Hiding In Plain Sight. Not all of my customers are typical, and some are downright frightening. This land has been in my family for over a century. We meet the needs of travelers and the night folk. Honestly, you are the first Duskwalker to pass that portal in a very long time. What do you want, Booker?”
I hesitated and pondered her question. Did I want to make love to her or pick up a guitar and entertain the crowd? Someone nearby must have heard her mention my name and decided for me. How she knew I was a Duskwalker became a moot point when a voice called out.
“Booker? Oh my god, it is him,” a girl said.
“Is your stage available?” I asked, and the woman gestured.
“Hello everybody, some of you might not know who I am,” I said as the chant ‘Booker’ grew to an alarming level. “It is time to play stump the guitarist.”
I borrowed a sleek red flying V, settled it over my shoulder, adjusted the strap, and plucked a few riffs before pointing to the audience. The first few songs were newer, but I had heard them on the radio or online. The next couple of tunes were golden oldies from people who didn’t look old enough to know those songs. Then a booming bass voice requested a piece called the Prince’s Lament. I hesitated, and then from out of nowhere, the melody filled my mind.
“Tricky, it is usually a violin piece; let me see if I can do it justice on a guitar,” I said, causing the tall man’s color to fade. After two false starts, I played the entire song enchanting the audience utterly with the alien tune. Tears flowed down the tall man’s face, and he left without another word. “One more before I grab a beer.”
“That is a fine talent you have there, boyo, but can you match my fiddle note for note?” The lanky redhead asked in his heavy Irish accent.
The crowd parted, the man took to the stage, and we faced each other. I shook his hand, and he winked at me as if to say, I know who and what you are. We sat on stools provided, and the Irishman began. The first six notes were quick and light. I matched them effortlessly, and with a gleeful hoo-hoo from the fiddler, the duel began in earnest. I mirrored him note for note, and the speed and length of the pieces increased faster than I expected. His grin grew broader and brighter the more protracted the challenge became. At one point, our instruments seemed to sync, and I no longer waited for him to play, but we performed together. The intricate melody filled the club, and the audience ate it up. When I took charge, I couldn’t be precise, but soon the fiddler was following my lead, and in the end, we finished with a cacophonic litany that sounded like a choir of angels battling against the forces of evil. Our instruments fell silent, and the crowd roared their approval.
“Long time no see,” the fiddler said. “I concede to the better man. Nice to know you are still around. I feared the world a lesser place without you, old friend. Come back for a pint when the mood strikes you.”
“Fair weather Taliesin, keep the darkness at your back,” I said, but I did not know why. ‘Left?’
‘Not me, that was all you,’ Left replied.
I had that pint and half a dozen more to drown the overwhelming sense of doom. Had Nick run into Taliesin? Was that the connection? When we left the club, I was good and drunk, and we piled into the aircar as Belinda gave directions to our destination. I closed my eyes and drifted away for a short while. When I awoke, I felt refreshed and examined my new surroundings. The top of the four-poster bed had a reflective surface added for the voyeuristic tendencies of prior occupants. Someone had undressed me and left me sprawled near the foot of the bed. I sat up, and as if on cue, the double doors opened, and the ladies entered one at a time. Quickening was first, with her hair coiffed into an intricate updo, her body wrapped in a mesh bodystocking, and sporting pierced nipples and a metal collar. Belinda followed her daughter, wearing a black silk half bra that contained her firm prodigious breasts and matching panties with multiple straps. Belinda carried a silver tray with an ice bucket, champagne, and glasses. Akira followed up the mother-daughter team as the strict dom, wearing a leather bustier, thigh-high boots, and riding crop in hand.
Swish-crack went the instrument of control, and the blow landed firmly on Belinda’s butt cheek. Akira chastised Belinda for not keeping her eyes down. Quickening opened the bottle of wine, poured it, and we toasted to a night of debauchery and mayhem. Akira depressed the button on the handle of the crop; mother and daughter flinched as a faint hum filled the air. I ignored them and savored the fine vintage. The room was significant for a nearly forty-foot square bedroom with a fifteen-foot ceiling and a ten-by-ten window above the bed. Moonlight illuminated the chamber as Victorian pillars marked the corners with garish opulence. After our drink, Belinda carried the tray, bottle, and glasses away, with Akira shadowing her. Quickening wasted no time straddling my lap, pressing her body against mine, and kissing me. My arms went around her as her tongue invaded my mouth. Quickening’s fingers slid through my hair as I cupped her ass cheeks. Her hips began to grind slowly when my erection brushed against her naked sex. As her hips rocked, one of my fingers brushed against the toy embedded in Quickening’s ass and the source of the low throbbing vibrations.
“She insisted I put it in my ass for you,” Quickening said, her lips brushing my earlobe and her hot breath caressing my skin. “Ooh, you got harder thinking about my butt, good. Lie back. It is time for you to eat me out while I stroke your cock.”
No words from me were necessary as I leaned back so that Quickening could adjust her position. She parked her hips over my face as her hands and mouth went to work. Keeping with the leisurely pace, I gently lapped at her labia until Quickening was dripping wet. It was easy for my tongue to slide between her labia and test her depths. The pulsing pattern of the vibrator changed from a soft buzz to a throbbing beat. I gasped as Quickening opened her mouth and let the first few inches of my erection pass her lips. She alternated between licking the length, bobbing her head, and swirling her tongue across the tip.
A new hand touched my cock; the flesh was colder and more experienced. I barely made out the words let me as Belinda entered the scene. Quickening sat up, and her mother took over, blowing me. As the daughter ground her pussy against my face, the mother lavished my cock with more experience. The occasional swish-crack of the riding crop reminded Belinda of who was in charge. As I suckled Quickening’s clit, her body bucked above me, and I noted her first orgasm for the evening. To amp up the action, I plucked the toy from her ass and tongued the now vacant aperture to gauge her reaction. By the cursing and squealing Quickening was doing, I thought it highly probable that I would be taking her ass before the night was through.
Belinda’s mouth left my erection and replaced it with her slick sex. She made a production of it as she teased her labia with the head until she couldn’t hold back any longer. There is that first time your cock enters an unfamiliar place and leaves a lasting impression.
“Your father is going to hate me,” Belinda said as her body slid down slowly. “Mmm, so thick and the length. It is hitting me where no one else ever has.”
“I know, I know, don’t tell your father,” Quickening said. “It’ll break his heart.”
Belinda seemed less the dutiful wife and more of the neighborhood MILF who teased the teens and took their virginities when they were of age. I imagined her leaning over a fence with those pendulous tits practically falling out of her scooped front top. She would crook her finger and lure me into her backyard, where she’d tease me before finally taking her prize. I attacked Quickening’s pussy and ass with a renewed gusto. As I tongued her ass, I fingered her pussy with quick, powerful thrusts.
“Your tongue is in my ass,” Belinda yelped in surprise. Enter Akira and her preternatural tongue and fingers. I cupped Quickening’s ass, pulled the cheeks apart, and thrust my tongue as deep as possible. “I thought we were a formidable team.”
So, they were a pair that worked to seduce and drain a guy’s balls completely. Challenge accepted, I thought.
“Make her cum,” Akira demanded.
I wanted to say which one, but my mouth was busy tonguing Quickening’s backdoor as my fingers pleasured the teen’s pussy, and it took multitasking to thrust upwards as a casual Belinda rode me like she owned my cock. My movements forced her to let out a series of ever louder grunts until Belinda shrieked as she climaxed. Akira took over and had Quickening lay on her back with her mother on top and me kneeling behind them.
“You know what to do,” Akira said. “Now, get to it already.”
“This is where I wish I had two cocks, like in the game.”
“Be careful what you wish for.”
My cock had its first taste of Quickening’s slit. The teen made an almost identical sound to her mother’s when the head of my erection brushed her depths. I forced myself to move slowly and savor, simultaneously taking on a mother and daughter. As I alternated between the two, Akira moved behind me and let her presence be known.
“Damn it, woman, what are you doing?”
“I thought that would be obvious. What is good for the mother is good enough for you. Shut up and fuck them.”
I had never had a woman lick me back there, ever. It felt weird at first but then, as my climax neared, it only intensified my pleasure. My hips thrust harder but maintained the same leisurely pace.
“He’s close,” Quickening gasped. “His cock is swelling inside of me.”
“Nnn, us, his prick is filling us up,” Belinda moaned.
“Don’t you dare do what I think you have in mind,” I growled as Akira removed her tongue and her fingers took their place. “Can’t hold back.”
I cried out as I let loose inside of Quickening. Akira’s fingers violated my ass just as the first pulse of cum hit the teen’s pussy. I ground against her hard as I climaxed a second time. My teeth broke the skin of my lip, and I bled over Belinda’s ass. Akira withdrew her digits, and we moved to the bathroom.
First Break:
I ran a quick cat bath to wash off the funk. I started the water, and a clean towel hung on a nearby hook when I turned around. When did that happen? I didn’t remember a towel being there when I walked in. Someone was fucking with me. Akira, she must be doing it. I peeked into the bedroom, but she was still bragging about her making me climax a second time. Hmm? I returned to the sink and found body wash, a loofa, shaving cream, and a new razor near the sink. No doubt about it now, there was someone else in this building, a silent shadow perhaps. I bent over and splashed water on my face until it was dripping, applied the contents of the dark grey tube, and lathered the three-day growth of facial hair. I touched the power button on the razor, and the cutting edge glowed a bright blue. The gel acted as a protective layer to keep me from burning my skin. There was zero resistance from the stubble as I mowed them down. I wet my hair, brushed it back into place, and dried my face. I turned my head and regarded my reflection to make sure I didn’t miss any facial hair. As I ran my hand along my jaw line, I saw something on my neck. What the hell? I lifted my head and shifted my torso to illuminate the area properly.
“Is that a tattoo?”
“I do not see anything,” Surfer replied. I blinked, and it was gone.
“I guess I am just seeing things. The razor has a manscaping option if you decide to keep your junk in line,” Surfer said.
“What do you think? Level, trim, or a smooth, clean shave?”
“Trim. Clean might be a little too much,” she advised.
I hummed as I washed my naughty bits, applied the gel, and left a nice racing stripe I could be proud of, gorgeous. Once I had rinsed, a new fresh towel appeared on the dowel to my left. Someone was fucking with me. There’s a game children play when they stand behind someone and do their best to remain hidden by becoming their shadows. Was that how she was doing it? Was she hiding in my blind spots? If there was a silent shadow in this house, I went into silent mode with Surfer.
‘Surfer, is it possible for someone to hide in plain sight using blind spots?’
‘Yes.’
‘Am I treading on Silent Shadow secrets?’
‘Yes.’
‘Hmm, can you create a training program for me to practice stealth skills?’
‘No need; Master Nick has a plethora of such programs archived that include climbing, parkour, rope work, and even knife throwing. If you take a bath, you have enough time for three, maybe four basic training courses.’ One of them covers using blind spots, not just with biologicals in mind but also electronic surveillance.’
‘Nah, give me the introduction course while I shower.’
Surfer activated my BMI, and time slowed and then split. One portion of my mind kept up the washing process while the other interacted with the program. I was intrigued by the complexity involved in identifying blind spots and taking advantage of them. Nick got so good he could walk down a London street and remain invisible to most security cameras covering a busy street. People were easy; the severe limitations of the human eye and other senses were simple to fool or manipulate. Street magicians have been doing it for centuries with misdirection and raw agility. By the time I finished removing the sweat and bodily fluids from my skin, the program had ended. I wanted to learn all I could since I had the threat of assassins hanging over my head. It would prove a lifesaving technique, and I vowed to dedicate all my free time to mastering them.
Round Two.
Refreshed and eager for another taste of the ladies, I tolerated Akira’s desire to be in control for a bit longer. Belinda knelt at the foot of the bed with Quickening next to her. Akira pointed at the daughter, and she grabbed her mother’s ass cheeks and gently pulled them apart. The matching toy that had been in Belinda’s ass was gone.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked as I moved closer.
“No, but damned if I am going to disappoint you,” Belinda replied. “Go slow.”
“I want a taste first,” I said.
“Unn, his tongue is in my butt. Did he do this to you?”
“Yep, I loved every minute of it, relax, mom, you are going to love it.”
The head of my cock knocked on Belinda’s backdoor, and she welcomed me in. Quickening did a little play-by-play as the tip opened up her mother’s ass while she watched intently. I stopped when asked and waited until she was ready. Eventually, I was balls deep in Belinda, and the sounds she made only intensified the moment.
“He is so thick.”
“Duh, all those grunts and groans you made got him harder than ever. Your pussy is soaked.”
“I wish he had two cocks, too,” Belinda said as I began moving. “No one has ever done this to me, ever.”
“Then that makes me the fine owner of your anal virginity. I’ll make it memorable, I promise.”
Two minutes later, I held Belinda aloft as I fucked her standing in front of an antique mirror. I told her how much I enjoyed the faces she made as my cock violated her depths.
“If we were in the game, this is where my doppelganger would walk in and unceremoniously slide his iron-hard cock into your pussy and fuck you rotten.”
“Oh god, yes,” Belinda said. “Make me your little bitch.”
“She’s been waiting for a while now to say that,” Quickening said. “Me next, I want you behind me, facing the mirror, with your prick buried in my ass just like mom.”
Akira appeared wearing a strap-on and, without a word, slid its lubricated length into Belinda. I stopped moving and let Akira have her moment in the sun. Only afterward did I learn that the prototype toy synced with her BMI and let her feel the sensations as a man would. No wonder she went at the MILF with such ferocity. My mother would have described it as a hammer and tongs. The kiss between Belinda and Akira was something to witness. For a straight woman, she showed some genuine passion in that extended embrace. Once I lay Belinda on the bed, Quickening threw herself into my arms and let Akira take her anal cherry.
“How does it feel?” I asked Akira.
“It has thousands of tiny sensors across its surface. Each one measures pressure, temperature, and other sensual data. That information gets pumped into my brain in the form of alien tactile feelings. Numenor recorded thousands of men having sex, which is the basis for my experience.”
“I understand. When I used my shapeshifting skills on the Marvel side and spent time with Mystique, I felt what a woman does, and it is addictive,” I said. “I kept those hidden for personal reasons.”
“Did she, you know,” Belinda asked.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I said, and they all laughed. “Let’s finish this on a high note.”
Eighteen hours later, give or take.
I woke around noonish and found myself pleasantly bookended by Quickening and Belinda. The perfect time to perform a deep dive into a new training regiment. Surfer took over as I closed my eyes and put myself in her capable hands.
“I have modified your HUD to detect perception cones. The blue areas are locations visible by humans, the red designate cameras, and the purple is where the two overlap. Your task is to remain in the grey areas to remain unseen. A later lesson will cover how many decibels of sound you emit when you walk. Eventually, you will combine silence and observation into a single technique.”
This training wasn’t a game, and this had real-world applications. We began with static cameras, and I failed miserably. It wasn’t until I asked for suggestions that I started to get a handle on not just where to move but how to unobtrusively slide from one blind spot to the next. I would draw unwanted attention if I stalked around in a crowd awkwardly. It was slow going, but I did make progress. The third lesson added cameras that panned an area my development crawled, and I wondered how anyone managed to master these skills. That’s when I tried to adapt the footwork for swordplay into stealth. They were surprisingly complementary and helped me push past the mental hurdles.
The second hour of meat time consisted of honing and improving my physical and mental flexibility. Surfer broke down and shared the techniques Nick had developed instead of letting me fumble around on my own. My progress accelerated after that. Did she want to see how serious I was, or did Surfer have other clandestine reasons for waiting an hour to help me? In the end, it didn’t matter. I focused on improving and nothing else. In the end, I exhausted myself and slipped into a natural sleep pattern. I didn’t dream, thank the gods.
Left woke me pleased at how the night had played itself out. I was on my side with Quickening spooning in front and her mother clinging to me from behind.
“Damn, that was a glorious night of debauchery,” Left declared aloud. “Fucked bent… always trust Akira to develop a great tag line.”
“I am glad you had fun. I need to pee, but damn, Quickening’s ass is in the way, and I hate to waste it.”
“Do I need to say this?” Left said.
“Unn Booker?” Quickening gasped in surprise. “How the hell can you still be… oh Gawd, yes.”
That was my one for the road. Well, two, if you count, waking up Belinda. Akira was dreaming at the foot of the king-sized bed draped in two blankets she stole from the closet and clutched her hand cannon like a plush toy. I eventually reached the massive, gilded bathroom. Honestly, it reminded me of the French Renaissance. It had shimmering black and white marble tiled floor, mirrors, two showers, a massive claw-footed bathtub, and a six-foot stained-glass window depicting a garden scene. I was bathed in rainbow hues from the window and found it oddly refreshing. Last night I was too tired to take in the details and eager to get back in the game. Besides, the noonday sun lit up the room so beautifully.
“Where the fuck are we?” Left asked.
“No clue, but I may borrow some ideas.” I laughed.
I did my business, washed up, and was brushing my teeth when Akira appeared. She looked a bit hungover and motioned for me to keep the water running. Akira used the toilet and then the shower. As I dried off, she bragged about tagging mother and daughter.
“I so made them scream like little bitches.” Akira declared proudly.
“Fucked bent?” I offered, and a fist bump later, she also claimed that.
“You two are downright sinful.” Belinda joked as she used the toilet. “And my ass is proof of that. I never did anal before last night. No, I never even considered it. It was all nasty and painful, but damn, you changed my mind on that and other things.”
“Where are we?” I asked, pointing at the window.
“This is the governor’s unofficial little love shack. It has been a part of the office for decades. They would bring their little girlfriends or one-night stands here via helicopter. The landing pad is hidden behind a copse of trees over there somewhere. My grandfather made much of the furniture here, which is how I found out about this place. He was an Old-World craftsman and put a lot of love into them.”
“I bet the governor did too,” I stated, and we laughed. “Do the taxpayers know about this place?”
“Nope, this is held in a blind trust discreetly funded in the state’s budget.” She explained as she joined Akira in the shower. “It has been an unquestioned line item for so long. Few even know of its existence.”
“How do you know so much?” I asked.
“My mom is the state treasurer. She retires next year and gets to use one of the outlying buildings for her retirement home. Discretion has its rewards.” Belinda chuckled as she lathered up Akira’s long dark hair.
“Aren’t you worried the governor might show up unexpectedly?” I asked, and she began laughing so hard she gasped for breath.
“One, have you seen that old goat? Two, his wife watches him like a hawk. And lastly, he does not even know this place exists. Those in power keep secrets like this under wraps. I cannot say anymore. I don’t have proof, but ‘they’ exist.”
“Oh,” I said and wondered if the Order was responsible for this house. “It is possible,” I stated even as Surfer took the hint and dove into the Order’s records.
Ding! The Schmidt family made this happen and had holdings here in the Midwest. Was there a connection between the location of this house and the GPS coordinates? They were less than ten minutes apart. I sent a message to Eric Schmidt, the current head of his family, via Wraith to take over the responsibilities of the love shack. It should be an easy sale with my portion of the Numenor fortune unless Eric knew something I didn’t. My stomach rumbled, and I left to dress in a robe hanging in the closet. All of our clothes seemed to have disappeared.
“We have to leave after breakfast… er lunch.”
I headed down and looked around the palatial first floor. It was a trove of Missouri history that ranged from relics of the native tribes to a small museum covering the life and times of Nicola Tesla. His Tesla Tower at the 1904 St. Louis world’s fair created the wireless world we enjoy today. Few knew that the Order adopted Tesla; even now, one of his descendants holds a prominent position within the group. I heard the rhythmic staccato of high heels on the marble floor. A flash of movement in the corner of my eye and the soft laughter of a woman’s voice drew me into the living room, then the dining room next to it, and finally to the kitchen. She dressed in the traditional maid uniform, not a hair out of place, and that killer smile.
“Do I greet you with good morning or afternoon?” She asked with a hint of an accent I could not instantly identify. The other thing is that she was hauntingly familiar, yet I was sure we had never met. “I get that look on occasion.” She continued with a wry smile. “My sister works aboard the Numenor. She speaks highly of your loving attention if I may be so bold, Sir.” The funny thing is that when she said Sir, she meant something else. I made the mental connection once she told me that her sister worked on the superyacht Numenor.
“Ilsa,” I stated, and she smiled. “You must be Anna.”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered if one of the uninitiated guests were to walk in. “I am fixing a traditional English breakfast. Is that to your satisfaction?” Again, that killer smile kindled to life. “It is rumored that you may have worked up quite the appetite last night and this morning. Oh, there is a fresh pot of coffee just behind me or freshly squeezed juice in the fridge.” I moved behind her and fixed a cup of coffee. I remembered her sister Ilsa quite well. The way the apron clung to her shapely backside aroused some delightful memories.
“What can you tell me about this house?” I asked as she continued to work uninterrupted in front of the island stove.
“A little,” she began as her hips moved to an unheard rhythm. “The land belonged to one of the local tribes for nearly a thousand years. That is what some of the carbon datings indicate. Historians theorize that the original tribe may have died of disease or a plague. Three mass graves hint at many people dying at the same time. None of the remains showed signs of trauma or wounds that you find after a battle or conflict. A story survived about how the locals called this area the land where the dragon sleeps. Another older translation calls it the home of the ‘ghost lines.’ This house sits on a three-line nexus of those reputed ghost lines. The Chinese call them dragon lines, and current Wiccans call them ley lines. The Schmidt family thought it amusing to build atop a nexus. I checked the records, and nothing unusual or supernatural has happened since the construction of the house and outbuildings. It was farmland before that with a boring history otherwise. And before you ask, the remains were returned, and a local shaman blessed the ground to put his ancestors to rest.”
“If that is a little, I would hate to see what you know a lot about.” I joked. “Ghost lines sound like something out of an RPG.”
I closed my eyes, and the song was louder than ever. This time there was a definite direction to the music. My feet moved practically on their own until I stopped. I opened my eyes to see my new surroundings, a grand ballroom. The floor had a geometric design etched into the wood with meridian lines radiating outward as if I stood at one of the magnetic poles. Left produced an almost erotic noise as he drank the steady trickle of ghost line energy.
“That is the center of the house,” Anna said. “The ancient alien group believes there is a global network of ley lines that visitors used to recharge their spaceships.” She tried and failed to say with a straight face. “Are you staying the night again? I am going into town for supplies.”
“No, there is a location nearby I want to check up on,” I explained as the rest of the crew appeared wearing matching terry cloth robes.
“Your clothing will be out of the dryer soon,” Anna stated. “I collected them while you slept. I laundered your dirty clothes as well.” She said, looking at me. “You are welcome to stay as long as you want.”
“Perhaps if the spot is a bust, we could return and hang out for a bit,” I said. “I can’t make any promises, though.”
We made our way to the kitchen.
“There is nothing there.” Belinda declared as she set up the kitchen table with plates and utensils.
When I began pouring coffee for the others, Anna almost had a panic attack. Akira touched her shoulder, and she relaxed. It was like a silent message that he likes to help. Anna had not seen me pour and fix my cup earlier. I withdrew and let Akira and Anna fix more coffee and dish out the food. I invited Anna to join us, and she faltered until, once again, a nod from Akira and sat next to me. Quickening just watched everything with a critical eye; there was a keen intelligence behind those baby blues. She played at being simple, but I guessed that was an act.
“What is your favorite part of the house?” I asked Anna. “Is there a room or relic that catches your fancy?”
“Well, there is. It is not anything big, but there is an old road sign for a small town that was abandoned and disappeared a hundred years ago.” Anna replied. “There is a barn near here. The thing was practically falling apart, and as they cleaned it out, they discovered the sign. The writing is almost illegible.”
“I never heard about that,” Belinda remarked between a bite of egg and a sip of coffee. “What was the name of the town?”
“Iram,” Anna said with great reverence. “I believe it was a homage to the fabled city of Iram in the Middle East. It was known as the City of a Thousand Pillars.”
“A thousand pillars, how interesting.” Quickening said, making a thoughtful expression. “If the city existed, the original, how could they build a thousand pillars? Would that rate the same as the other wonders of the ancient world?”
“I suppose it would if they found it,” Akira said and winked at me. Had the Order found Iram? There were too many coincidences building around those damn coordinates.
“Can we see this sign you are talking about?” I asked.
“Once you clear your plate,” Anna replied playfully. We all got a laugh out of that. She was right, though. Last night’s festivities had left me hungry.
After the meal, I reached for my plate, and Anna went pale, so I withdrew my hands and let her lead us to the museum portion of the first floor. Akira remained behind, no doubt, to clear the table and load the dishwasher. The gallery was more significant than the dining room and had display cases mounted above and along the walls. The museum was not limited to the first floor. It rose to the third floor, where a stained-glass dome crowned it and sent scintillating rays of many hues to light the artifacts.
The sign in question was under ultraviolet glass to prevent further damage. It was mounted at eye level and measured about four feet wide and three high. The pine planks had long ago begun rotting from sun, rain, and wind exposure. The surface was cracked and warped. The writing was visible, if barely. The stylized lettering reminded me of Victorian Era pieces from movies and TV sets in that bygone time. It read simply Iram population 589. If this were a mainly rural area, you would not expect a large concentration of people. What concerned me were the symbols running along the border of the sign’s edge.
“Interesting decoration,” I said, pointing to the edge.
“I know, right,” Anna said. “Some think they took inspiration from early European explorers as far back as the 17th century. Though a local archaeologist that visited a few years back could not identify the designs and chalked it up to fanciful imaginings.”
‘Scanning and enhancing those characters,’ Surfer said. ‘Scan complete, enhancing the images, hmm, there is a distinct pattern and logic behind these symbols. This sign does not seem to be a simple fanciful imagining to me. Master?’
It felt like a seizure. One moment I stood before the sign under its protective glass, and the next, the wood looked newly carved, and I used a hammer to drive the post it was attached to into the ground. Sweat ran down my face and eyes from the summer sun above. I pulled a rag from my back pocket and wiped the perspiration away. The primitive stone path led into town, the village I had helped erect. I noted my hand bore the twin thumbs of a Duskwalker, yet none of the citizens of Iram seemed to mind.
‘Booker,’ Left said, breaking the spell. ‘You okay? What the hell was that?’
‘I don’t know. One of your memories?’
‘Not mine. I was elsewhere back then.’
“So, someone likely just made them up to dress up the sign.” Quickening said, unaware of my little episode.
“Yep, that seems the most logical conclusion,” Anna replied.
“The dryer just dinged,” Akira said as she walked in. Anna rushed off to fold and deliver the clean clothes. “Time to go.”
“I agree,” I said as I looked at the sign. “Iram.”
No one seemed to notice my momentary fugue, and I was okay with that. What triggered it if that wasn’t one of Left’s memories, and it couldn’t have been one of Nick’s? Perhaps my proximity to the nexus triggered a racial memory within my Duskwalker heritage? I had to accept that the old Booker had been born human, and now I had been upgraded genetically on levels I was still learning. Left and I needed to talk about my adopted people and their culture and history. Ignorance could get me killed.
‘Agreed,’ Left said. ‘On the next leg of the journey, I’ll tell you about the firstborn and the legends surrounding them. The Anunnaki created them at the height of the ghost line power, and their aspects and attributes were legendary.’
‘Aspects and attributes?’
‘The firstborn could manifest primal powers like those attributed to gods and demigods like Hercules. One of them earned the title of deathless since he discovered the power that others later called reincarnation. After his first successful rebirth, people claimed he was divine. He responded that I never claimed to be a god, but then again, I never claimed not to be one. I found his story appealing when I was a young boy. Sadly, time and war erased his name, and there were nearly ten thousand years between his original birth and mine. A lot can happen in that amount of time.’
‘Hero worship?’
‘You bet he was the best of us. Scholar, warrior, mage, and had a harem unmatched by anyone. I wanted to be him when I grew up. Fate is a fickle bitch.’
‘I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.’
‘No, it is good to be reminded of our sins. Without memory, we can’t grow.’
‘Those characters on the sign are Duskwalker, aren’t they?’
‘Yeah, it marks a refuge for survivors. Iram was a second chance.’
“Time to beat feet and see what there is to see,” I said.
I hugged everyone and promised to return after visiting the mystery location. Surfer informed me that the Schmidt family had agreed to sell the mansion along with the surrounding acreage. The Shaw name carried clout within the Order, and they were happy to get that item off their holdings in exchange for an infusion of much-needed currency. Surfer said that one or more of the Schmidt clan were heavy gamblers, and their debts were building. I told her to investigate and see if any other holdings might be worth taking off their hands, someplace scenic if possible. Akira and I dressed and headed for the aircar, which had been hand washed and detailed, Anna no doubt. Akira drove, and I waited for her to tell me the significance of the original Iram. She began laughing suddenly, and I glanced at her.
“Fine. Jeez. One little wink and you get all Mister Serious. Nick found Iram. It is still out there in the Empty Quarter.” She teased. “Most of the pillars have toppled over. There is an oasis beneath the city. It is deep, huge, and has been there forever.”
“Millions of decaliters,” I did my best, Paul Atreides impersonation.
“Really,” Akira laughed. “Just had to go straight to Dune.”
“Hey, it fits.” I defended my choice.
It didn’t take long to reach the area at the edge of the coordinates.
“It looks like we are going off-road.”
The aircar slid past two concrete pylons barring access to the private road Belinda had described. No one had mowed the grass in a long time; it stood three feet in height and bent beneath the vehicle as it slid over the individual blades.
“So, not only did the funding fail, but they blocked it off,” I stated as the car slid easily over the grass before returning to the road. “It is still in okay shape.”
“I noticed that too,” Akira said, her tone mirroring mine. “Fucking weird.”
A thousand feet later, the road abruptly ended, and the grass grew up beyond it, but that was no obstruction for us. The aircar glided over the tall grass. Then went on autopilot toward our destination with the touch of a button. The hilly area grew steeper as I watched the readout count down in meters to our location. I cried out and pointed when I spotted it. Akira cursed and redirected the vehicle. The Tesla tower stood on a concrete slab and was a configuration I had never seen before. The structure projected clean, free energy, and during thunderstorms, would send a lightning rod to collect sky fire and store it within banks of batteries below the tower in a reinforced vault.
“Surfer. Scan and search.” I asked, and she went to work.
“This particular configuration not found.” She announced after a few seconds. A soft whine behind us alerted us to the deployment of the air car’s sensor array. Bright blue beams painted the Tesla tower to determine the metal or alloys used in its construction and receive a more detailed image of the structure. “Nope. Nada. The tower is a custom job. Brilliant, someone who understands metallurgy and electrical engineering did their homework; it is a work of art.”
“Send it to Wraith for analysis,” I ordered, and she sent a pulse transmission to Nick’s digital soul as I thought of the AI. “Is it functional?”
“Yes. It is transmitting.” Surfer said.
“But transmitting to where? There is nothing to see. Is there?” I was puzzled. “If this were in-game, there would be a secret underground base of heroes or villains nearby.”
“A moment please,” Surfer giggled. “Arming scan pulse.” She said, looking up. “I assumed you might want a closer look at the area when we arrived. Firing pulse.” She hummed as the energy struck the area and bounced back to the geostationary satellite in orbit for analysis. “There is an underground stream that runs along there,” Surfer said. “It is not deep until there. Then it dives beyond the range of the scan. Soil is great for farming, nutrient-rich, and no sign of human occupation.”
“This makes no damn sense. Is there anything within its transmission range?” I asked, and Surfer closed her eyes and shook her head a few seconds later. “Could they have? No, that makes no sense either?”
“You mean the road. Could the Order have built an uber-expensive tower to power machines to construct a damn road that no one uses? Gods, this hurts my head.” Akira cursed. “Let’s just go and get this over with.”
“I agree.”
We continued and rode the irregular terrain, but there was nothing but grass or the occasional tree or small copse of trees for as far as the eye could see. The car topped a rise and looked out over a valley. If I estimated the reading with what was in front of us, the GPS coordinates were at the valley’s center. Akira paused the car, and we got out.
“Nothing,” I said, and she made a rude noise.
“I was hoping for at least ruins or remains of buildings.” She declared with a frown. “You want to go down there? We might find a few basements or cellars in some state of disrepair.”
“Eh, we are here,” I said noncommittedly. “It won’t take more than ten minutes to skim the valley, and we are back in time for another look at that museum.”