Blood Sabers

by Burbaugh, MF;

  They all curtsied.

  He bowed back.

  “Please, Sir, sit, have some of our tea and bread with us. Most of our wives just now returned from a close up of the moon,” I said

  “I know.”

  “How may I assist you, Sir?” I asked.

  “Um, you know I had nothing to do with that despicable act when you arrived?” he asked.

  “You still breathe, Sir,” I noted.

  “Yes, I suppose that is true,” he mused.

  “The, aah, incidents of the past few days were, uh, your doing?” he asked.

  “The women all having orgasms?” I asked. “Yes, I had to give my wife Matawasa her reward for her blade skill, did I not?”

  His eyebrow rose just a bit. “I watched much of it, affairs permitting. Amazing women you have, Sir,” he said

  “You don’t know the half of it.”

  “Could you refrain? For our sanity?” He was searching for words.

  “Look, I wish to cut the bullshit. We did it, it was on purpose. My other wives were in high orbit and I believe it is clear they were tortured even there.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Smother them with kindness, of course,” I said. “I informed you of all of my intentions, I am here to accept your unconditional surrender with the minimum of bloodshed.” I studied his reaction.

  “By the way, you owe me some money, too. Rodel if you please, Sir?” I asked. “He’s my defective robot.”

  He brought a tray with a stack of papers.

  “Here is the final bill.” I gave him the last page.

  “You’re kidding? That is more than the–” I stopped him.

  “It is more than three times the combined debt of both you and NATO, yes. So? It is justly earned and owed. I now have more than a few followers and supporters over two planets and a moon. If that is in doubt, check Mars, they are having some, um, unfair tax discussions there.”

  “That bill is for my back pay, allowances and retirement pay still owed me plus simple interest. Also the patent income from a certain formula I sent to NASA who then bribed it out to contractors for huge campaign donations--you know the drill. Also, 200 years of royalties and interest on my book which it seems was kept under government control for political and financial gain.”

  “You can’t be him, that was over 220 years ago!” he said

  I picked up a one ounce gold piece and my thumb glowed blue as I pressed it deep into the bar. I took a pin, pricked my finger, placed a single drop of blood on the back of it. I carefully wrapped it in a plastic sheet, and placed it in a plastic bag. I handed it to him. “NASA records, Jan 2237 will show I am who I say. They have the data. You have my blood type, DNA, prints and a retinal scan which they can get off any TV video of me.” I looked at him gravely.

  “You have a demand for payment, 48 hours is enough time. You have a request for unconditional surrender, and in 48 hours you will have, I counted and included the reporter, six more periods of 48 hours each of your women having uncontrolled orgasms, with a one hour rest in between. Let us see how long before they either force capitulation upon you, or start dying.” I sipped my tea. He finally tried it and admitted it was quite good.”

  “When did you think you would win?” he asked.

  “The day I told them to start building my ship, Sir. We win or die; there is no other way with us. I know you will surrender. I promise no harm to anyone who does not deserve it. My newest wife, Brigit, has a personal grievance with three despicable officers that will die. You will continue to hold office, but I must have control of a space military and you are it. My three generals will take charge of all space forces and training, they will arrive soon. I need it all concluded by then. Give me two days, I must still conquer NATO, we can then do a duel transfer of power for the public, and I will be on my way. I have a few more worlds to conquer. I need rule in name only. Oh, that debt will be forgiven at the surrender. Or have its payment on the field in 48 hours, your choice.” I smiled.

  “A whole planet in a couple weeks, and we thought he was kidding,” he said to no one in particular.

  “Open deception. We said what we meant knowing none would believe.” I shook his hand and he left.

  The reporter came up to me, “When may I report this?”

  “He still has 48 hours.” I need to conquer NATO yet. I will have Rodel notify you when we will be in NYC--hang around the NATO HQ. You’ll know. You will be famous, as reporters go,” I said.

  “Already am.” She patted my cheek, smiled and left.

  “Leave that one alone, my husband,” Aawasa said.

  “At least she knows what she wants and goes and gets it,” Katawasa said.

  “True, only a few of them on Earth,” I said. “Sylvia was another.” I winked.

  “Well, that went well, I think,” Katawasa said.

  Queastra returned from her trips a little later. She had DNA from the Zulus of Africa and the Aboriginals of the Australian outback.

  Rodel would get the tests done and if we had a match, contracts for DNA would be issued so Camelot’s tribe can continue.

  “Shall we eat, sleep, and move on to NATO, ladies?” I asked.

  Queastra wanted some attention and we all slept. I had no dreams.

  We ate, showered, they put on their finest battledress, we wore our winter boots, strapped on our swords, and called up a private sub-space jet to New York City. Our limo met us there.

  We had a bit of a disagreement with some NYPD who still thought citizens were too stupid to carry weapons. I believe eight were getting body parts sewed back on before they found out we were not to be messed with, and nothing they had could penetrate the blue bubble.

  We were dropped in front of NATO HQ. It use to belong to a totally corrupt organization, now dissolved, called the UN, or United Nations, what an oxymoronic idea that was.

  The guards were all talking on their private earbuds. One opened the doors for us.

  Some minor official met us and begged forgiveness, as no one knew we were coming.

  “Like the Vice President, are you to be the sacrificial lamb left to die while the others run and hide?” I asked.

  Aawasa took his shaking hands. “Relax, we only kill the deserving. Is this a trap of some kind?” she read his eyes.

  “No, Queen Aawasa, no trap, we didn’t know,” he said.

  She let go his hand and kissed his cheek. “You live on.” She said to me, “He speaks true, my husband.”

  “You the highest here at the moment?” I asked. He said he was.

  “Tomorrow, at 11AM, I will address every high ranked official of NATO—they will all be here. They may bring wives or whatever. I will not harm anyone not deserving. We are clear?”

  He nodded.

  “Good boy. We will return,” Queastra told him, patting his cheek.

  The Limo dropped us on 5th Ave. It took a while, but 911 finally told people, “Just don’t piss them off.”

  Cops cut off traffic and we walked up 5th Ave, enjoying the sights. The limo slowly following behind. We stopped in a store called Sax. An elderly man was there, grinning from ear to ear. “He has been enjoying himself, my husband,” Brigit said, and smiled.

  “Kinda looks like a Bob smile,” I said. Some questioning looks.

  “Nothing.”

  “Linda, make him happy for another month. Probably kill him, but he’ll not complain I bet.” I laughed.

  Linda walked up and hugged him. “How’s it hanging, my friend?” she asked.

  “Doesn’t, it stands at attention quite well.” He smiled even deeper.

  She kissed his cheek. “Have another 30 days free of charge,” and she burst into laughter as her hand turned blue and rested on his chest.

  The only two customers slipped out behind us.

  A very pretty young lady, our Asian beauty’s replacement, was there shaking like a leaf. Let her shake a bit.

  “Business okay?” I asked him.

  “Little
slow, recession and all,” he said.

  “Young lady, you know who we are?”

  She shook all over but nodded.

  “You know I kill if I get upset?”

  She nodded. “You know I am a sex freak?” I asked.

  She gulped and nodded.

  “Good,” I said and smiled.

  She was terrified.

  I told the old guy to bring me a decent necklace.

  He brought out several stunning examples.

  I chose a very pretty one. “Are you ashamed of your body?” I asked.

  She shook her head no.

  “I hate wearing clothes when it isn’t cold out. Filthy things,” I said.

  I hung the necklace around her neck and stepped back to admire it.

  I asked all my wives their opinions. All thought it was quite stunning.

  “You aware of its price, my dear?”

  She nodded.

  “I wish to start a new fashion trend,” I said.

  “The clothes you wear now will be exchanged for the battledress of a normal Camelot woman. They fiercely love their bodies, and they love being admired for them. If you finish this day and all day tomorrow, serving your customers wearing one, that necklace is yours to do with as you will. You will pay no tax or fees of any kind. This fine gentleman standing here will ensure you are admired, goggled, and drooled over, and never touched. The penalty for even bumping a woman without her consent is death. You understand?” I asked.

  She finally found she had a sweet voice. “Yes, I stand here almost naked for two days and it is mine.”

  “No, you are not naked, you are very pretty. You work for two days, you become totally uncaring of what others think; it’s your body. You become a real woman.”

  “But the law says—”

  “I promise, when that becomes yours, there will be no such law. None, no cop, no judge will say anything about you. The reporters have all reported our every move and they all know what happens to anyone, even Presidents, who oppose us. After that you may wear what you wish, it is having the right to be you that I seek, not the fashion statement.

  “Look out the window, you are on every screen on three worlds right now; start being proud.” I kissed her cheek.

  The old man’s smile got so big I thought his face would rip.

  “You are so subtle in what you do,” he said.

  “Like a sledge hammer on a window?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” he laughed.

  I paid him for the necklace and gave him a good tip. “Send it back if she turns out to be a coward,” I said.

  “I won’t be. Hell I may be able to sell rights to the pictures or something,” she said.

  “Maybe, enjoy,” Aawasa said.

  We left, saw other parts of the city, and went to the finest hotel on three worlds. Enjoyed a meal. A live show on Broadway, and went to sleep.

  At exactly 10AM we presented ourselves at NATO, we were met by its President, and several generals from different countries.

  “I have come to accept your surrender tomorrow at our embassy at the 50 yard line in Huston. At 11AM today I will explain why you will do so,” I said, as they all looked at each other and said nothing.

  I spotted a certain reporter; she came over and said, “Hi.”

  “You do not wear the cultural fashions of Camelot?” I asked.

  “Your fashions are stunningly unique in their simplicity of design, however I have a job to do.” She smiled.

  “In one hour I address the assemble, in one hour and say thirty minutes you may announce that the unconditional surrender of Earth, Mars, and the moon, will be held at the 50 yard line in the Superdome in Huston tomorrow at high noon.” I said.

  “You are serious? Just like that?” she asked.

  “Just like that. They will attempt another assassination or two, probably when we leave here. They will fail, and heads will literally roll, but yes, they will surrender.” I watched the mirth in her eyes dancing.

  “Actually, you better have them start rolling that now, you won’t be in any condition to do it later.”

  She ran off.

  “Nice ass,” I said.

  “Aawasa told you no touchy,” Linda hissed.

  “Just stating the facts, nothing but the facts,” I said.

  “It is cute,” Brigit said.

  I told Linda I didn’t think they’d do anything inside. Could she slip out unnoticed (like that was going to happen) and check all the surrounding areas, and eliminate any threats found for the next several hours?

  “On it, my husband,” she said. Little puff of smoke and a beautiful girl in a very tight dress, blond hair, and big boobs swayed her way toward the front door. The glasses were a nice touch to. The big white sword across her back was a little out of place.

  “How did she do that?” I asked.

  “It’s just her armor, she rearranged the molecules is all,” Katawasa said.

  Rodel piped in a commander’s comments as we moved toward the main hall:

  “They are nothing but filthy, disgusting, uncultured, barbarian trash, if you ask me,” he said.

  “You have not re-earned my trust yet, my friend. Truth, it is as he says and not an adjustment?” I asked Rodel.

  “Truth, Sire.”

  At 11AM I took the stage.

  “I am Jake, I am called many things. NASA used to call me pilot, my six wives call me husband (a large murmur). My people call me king, two men that had the nerve to strike a woman in my presence called me death, and NASA’s old President calls me nothing, his voice quit answering to his brain.

  “The one I shall most cherish is your commander’s.” I pointed to him. “He called me uncultured, he called us all uncultured barbarian trash to be exact.” He appeared shocked being singled out. “You all look cultured and refined in your suits and uniforms and dresses, so I will allow you to judge our poor barbaric culture.” I looked around, setup complete.

  “My new home is called Camelot, on it is a harp once used to play glorious music to the Father of the universe as he toiled. We will play a bit of music on it just for us here in a few minutes. My lovely wife Katawasa has asked that she be allowed to accompany it. I hesitate to put her up for ridicule by such refined people as yourselves, alas, I am but a servant to their wishes. She has never received any training in what she plays, she plays only from her barbaric soul.”

  Two guys pushed a huge concert harp out.

  IF Rodel would do it, IF he could control it, IF, IF, IF, and my wife will still be risking her life.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen may I present my wife Katawasa for her judgment!”

  She stomped out on stage in cold weather boots, blue battledress, and a blue katana. She threw me the sword and the dove necklace, and kicked off the boots. She stood by the harp, plucked a few strings in a certain order and waited. Finally, just for Earth and the Father and his mate, the universe plucked a few strings back and Katawasa’s harp turned to blue shimmering bands of light, almost visible. Katawasa saw. This would give raw power a new meaning, if she lived. Rodel was linked, this knew no bounds in time or space, and I was afraid, I was so afraid. Katawasa started to dance, slowly, a little pluck here, a high jumping pluck there, a full pirouette with a series of plucks, she spun back to the center and waited as I remember her at the soul harp long ago.

  “She tests the strings, nothing more,” I said.

  Then the Universe played a series of chords and Katawasa played complimentary ones. They were linked, Rodel will get his own type of orgasm, I just hoped my wife lived.

  A loud opening crescendo, and they played. Katawasa danced the dance of death I had seen her do so long ago and she followed Rodel’s lead as they brought all the instruments of the universe to bear on one poor little, helpless planet called Earth. The melodious folds, the interweaving of instruments, the crashes of thunder, and rolling of winds, as my Katawasa played and danced and finally it tapered, one grand finale, fifteen minutes to the second. It
stopped and Katawasa lay helpless on the floor.

  Somewhere a father smiled and a new star was put in the heavens.

  ~~~

  Somewhere, far away, an unknown commander screamed in horrible pain.

  ~~~

  I walked out to her, she was out cold, but fine. I silently thanked Rodel.

  I looked to the audience, not a peep, most were disheveled, sweating and mental wrecks. To the ugliest, most vile human on Earth they had cried.

  I stood holding her, she slowly kissed me, weak and sweaty.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we may look barbaric and unrefined, but maybe now you understand, maybe now you see, we do not need to pretend.” I almost felt sorry for them.

  “I say it is you who are barbaric and unrefined, my poor wife puts her entire soul into a short performance just for you and you are so uncaring you don’t even acknowledge the effort, if not skill.” I knew that would bring them back slowly, I’d been there.

  A few claps started, then a few more as they started to come to reality, then more. By the time I was halfway across the stage the building was shaking. Stomps and claps and yelling, and in every jerkwater town and whistle stop and beer joint in the world people wiped off tears and clapped and stomped and more than one house or building collapsed from it. I figured we were uncultured no more.

  A world could not figure out why there was nothing, no video or sound. Just the hiss of space when they went to review the data and the videos. All rights were reserved by the Father.

  I set Katawasa down gently back stage and returned.

  “You people of Earth have now felt two ways we can express our happiness and joy. Our sexing was not unnoticed, I understand. I warn you women now, tonight I lust for a wife, at 9PM to oh, about midnight, I will be performing my husbandly duties. It will be more intense but only for a mere three hours. If NATO is not at that table tomorrow, my wife Queastra has agreed we will try for a record six days and nights non-stop. People, I only warn once. Women will start to die on day three, by day six few will survive. Until tomorrow.”

  A certain, weeping reporter fell into my arms. “I love you, God help us we all love you.” She kissed me and tried to walk straight and tall, but didn’t do too well.

  I went back to the stage and retrieved Katawasa’s belongings. We headed for the door. A woman came out of the hall still crying. She had a big Christian cross on her neck. She staggered to us, Queastra caught her. “Was, was that God?” she asked.