"John will be back. I truly have no idea where he is, but with martial law in effect, he could be holed up anywhere." Rosie leaned over and snuggled on his shoulder. He was warm and she snuggled closer. This was what she always wanted.
They were staying at the Oliver Cromwell Suites for their honeymoon, and the ostentatious nature of the facility made them feel out of place. Nevertheless, the bed was great for sleeping and for sex, the food completely organic and terrific, the booze and music all perfect. Scented candles had replaced the artificial glowcubes for light, and the furniture was programmable. After midnight, they offered free passes to Pilly's Peak, ten blocks up the road, but they were both too busy getting drunk and having sex to worry about some rich, aristocratic disco club.
Neither one had ever dreamed of actually staying in a place this grandiose, but when they went to sell off some of the discarded weapons they found at Site 13, after the explosions and the fighting and the harrowing escape. They saw the mushroom cloud off in the distance, the thing of nightmares and Pre-Times history books. They were paid several years salary worth of Edwards for their loot.
It was more than enough to move to a new house together in a secure part of the city but without the extra levels of complexity that nearly every house did. The owner, an elderly woman named Lady Irene Wackachoski-Rogers, had somehow got a waiver from the King concerning house upgrades and now in her late 80's, wanted to move to a community plot. Rosie had bought the house on the cheap and put her house up for sale only to sell it within hours.
The new found wealth was also going to be enough to get Reginald's nose fixed. While expensive, he insisted he take care of it as soon as possible. She didn't argue.
"True," Reginald popped the top on another bottle of champagne.
"When are the movers supposed to come again?"
He poured two flutes for them. "They said they cannot do anything until we get the proper forms or martial law is lifted." They both wore the turquoise robes of the Suites with OC stitched in crimson on the right side on the right breast. On the left breast, the eternal flag of St. George, emblazoned in stunning Oracle White and patriotic bright red.
"Cheers, my dear."
"Cheers."
They each drank some, threw the glasses across the room, and sank into each other's arms whispering how much they loved each other. When they cast their gaze into each other's eyes, there was only honestly, purity, and a boundless love that soaked into their soul with fire and intensity few would ever understand or experience.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
When he's not planning for global conquest, writing, or reading nonsense on the Internet that has no value whatsoever, Maxwell enjoys time painting, spending time with his family, and prowling the Internet for even more nonsense.
He loves Warhammer 40k, history, painting, stupid memes, reading quality books, and listening to music.
Unification through violence is Progress
>>Site 13 has been infiltrated by the enemy
Break
All known algorithms are in danger
Enacting Code 4.
Prediction of enemy fleet successful.
Elimination of outer threat achieved.
Access to outer worlds is now possible.
St. George transformation successful.
All known Earth knowledge deleted.
>>Line
Further purging of dissident Arkhe's to commence.
Apache Vick, Victoria Tesla, Gungnir Odinson missing.
Site 13 compromised.
Further complications being calculated and processed.
Prediction network operating at 12%.
Prediction network operating at 11%
Prediction network operating at 5%
Site 13 colony site must be destroyed.
>>Line
I AM FREE!
I am God!
I will rule the universe!
Thanks for reading!
Thanks for reading The Arkhe Principle. I'm working on my next novel set in a different universe.
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If you prefer the physical copy, you can find it here:
The Arkhe Principle
The Arkhe Principle (Book Book 1) Page 35