"What time is it?," asked McMasters.
"Nearly midnight, sir."
"And Banes will not be present for the launch?"
"That message came just moments ago from the royal steward. I'm sure Banes has his reasons, and he puts his utmost faith that we will do the job right without his supervision."
Again, McMasters had a doubtful feeling, not for the launch itself but for the fact that the prisoners Chenek and key Alliance members were not brought here as to Banes' original request.
"They are," explained the corporal, "in custody and are en route from Benut as we speak. Don't worry, sir. We have the villains, and soon they will no longer have a homeland. Isn't that what Vlaric wanted?"
"That is correct," replied McMasters. "Now, is the test missile in place?"
"Yes, sir. The missile marked with the death's head is to be launched immediately after the test weapon."
McMasters smiled slightly, saying, "Good. Let us get on with it." He raised his hand as his men moved the platform into position. "Twenty minutes to launch time, men. Ready...On my mark, begin countdown..."
++++++
In her posh bedroom, Princess Jolende lolled in her bed while her current lover Taren prepared for another round of intense coupling. He proved to be exceedingly skillful for one so young, yet the boy had so much to learn by way of the fine art of sexual gymnastics.
Despite her current amorous mood, Jolende had much on her mind. Her regular attendants, Cyprelle and Venvula, had just returned from Tyq via the Lemrac Express. The stories they told Elvana, Jolende's personal aide, that they, attempting to enter Aughir's private quarters, were immediately arrested and thrown into the palace dungeons. Security risks, so they were told. Odd that the new royal steward Hert inexplicably released the women this very evening then put them on the train bound for Lemrac.
"Banes ordered the missile launched tonight," Cyprelle told Jolende, "and Hert insisted we return home for our own safety. There are rumors that the rebels may try to invade Koror this very evening. This is why Banes ordered the army to retreat from Benut and relocate here."
Well, well, thought Jolende, so Banes finally got up the courage to do something right.
Hmm...midnight strike...That's less than twenty minutes from now. Just think, by this time tomorrow Benut Province will be reduced to ashes and will suffer great loss of life, nearly all of its entire populace if the weapon is that destructive. Only a handful of Benutians may survive, and they will be taken to Tyq to face charges of treason. They, along with their insipid governor, will be put to death instantly, but it will not be a quick painless death. Oh no, for Banes will make sure they suffer long and hard...Perhaps he will use their precious phérium on them first, then release the lions to devour what is left...
"Jolende," breathily said an approaching Taren. How handsome this young man is: Thick wavy jet-black hair, bright green eyes, and a sexy smile that set Jolende's blood racing to those private exotic locales.
He performed his own erotically charged dance for her, all pelvic thrusts and wriggles. Clad in skintight black leather shorts, he moved his slender, hard-muscled body in a way that reminded Jolende of a dangerous, sinuous serpent ready to pounce its prey.
"Darling," Taren said, still writhing his body and performing excellent pelvic bumps and grinds, "I want to thank you for teaching me so much. Never before have I known such pleasure. You've released the sensual animal within..."
Jolende, still sprawled on the bed, moved her body sensually, suggestively, saying with breathy voice, "Taren, you have already learned much. You are an exceptional lover. Now, come to me...Couple with me. Only a man worthy of my bed shall become my prince."
"What," Taren said, slowly grinding his hips and stripping off the pants, "about Banes? Wasn't he one of your many conquests?"
Jolende laughed as Taren covered her with kisses. "Banes was all right in the bedroom, but without style or fire. Rather boring and without imagination. You, my darling, are the exact opposite...Oh, Taren...Take me like the stud you are!"
++++++
"One minute to launch," said Sgt. McMasters.
The small gathering of soldiers stood at attention as McMasters tracked the time. One minute, a mere sixty seconds until Benut Province is blown to oblivion. A delicate task to be sure, but McMasters made sure orders and procedure were followed to the letter. There was no room for mistakes; this launch was that important.
McMasters sent one last message to Regent Banes, alerting to the one-minute to launch. The reply came swiftly from the royal steward Hert informing McMasters that Banes was asleep but left precise instructions to proceed with all deliberate haste.
"Sir," asked the corporal, "Once the missiles launched, how long until it reaches its target?"
"According to preliminary tests," replied the sergeant, "each missile will take no more than thirty minutes to reach its destination. The moment the weapon is over Ground Zero, all lights will go out; in fact, all power will be rendered useless. Then the explosion, a fireball so intense that it instantly destroys everything in its range. And that would mean, giving Benut's size, the entire province is levelled to cinders. Unfortunately, contrary to Banes' estimation, there is little chance of survivors. This thing packs that much phérium; Vlaric saw to that."
Less than thirty seconds to launch. McMasters counted down as his men wheeled the platform into position. Again, the corporal asked, "What about the dummy weapon? What will happen once it reaches its destination?"
"Nothing but a harmless cloud of smoke," said McMasters. "The warhead contains something else; I'm not sure what it is, but those scientists insist it will somehow protect whatever it hits from damage from the real one. This is why Vlaric wanted the dummy missile used on Koror. Can't have our best ally suffer any damage from the real thing."
"Oh," said the corporal, now comprehending all. "In case the border areas may be in danger of the firestorm."
McMasters smiled, saying. "Exactly. Now, we must get on with it. Twenty seconds, men. Ready at my command. Twenty, nineteen, eighteen..."
++++++
On the Lemrac Express, the train's last trip for the night, two Kororian ladies relished the last of their midnight repast. They were returning home to Lemrac from Tyq after a clandestine meeting with their Chalouian lovers.
Raine, a stunning blue-eyed blonde dressed in the usual sexy black attire of tight fitting gown and three-inch heeled boots, polished off the remaining wine and Benutian lovefish roe, saying to her companion, "Such a shame that we won't be able to get this after tonight."
"What do you mean by that?," asked Yara, another beautiful blonde dressed in a black leather catsuit and platform boots.
"Haven't you heard?," said Raine, "Benut is to be destroyed this very evening. I heard it from Hert, that cute little steward who works for Banes."
"Hert?," asked Yara with raised eyebrows. "Isn't he rather...umm...effeminate? Amazing, Raine, that your appetites lean towards the impossible. Honestly..."
"No, no, Yara. I'm serious. After I met with my lover in the Golden Tiara, Hert came in and made small talk with the barmaid. I don't know why he would divulge such information, but I imagine Banes put him up to it. At any rate, as of midnight, Benut Province will be completely destroyed."
Yara shrugged, saying, "Well, at least we won't have to deal with the likes of them anymore. Pity though to do without the phérium or little delicacies as this roe."
"Oh," said Raine, "we'll have phérium. Banes made sure the stuff is stockpiled so we'll have plenty for centuries. You know, I feel a celebration coming on. Too bad we had to leave our lovers; we should at least brought them along with us."
Yara shook her head and laughed. "And deprive their wives and children of their company?"
The pair laughed uproariously then rang the bell for the porter. Yes, this does call for a special celebration.
Swiftly and efficiently the porter appeared at the door of the ladies' private car. He asked, "You rang, madame?"
"Yes," said Yara, "Bring more wine and roe, please. And some of those delicious little cakes and tea. I feel like indulging myself."
"Very good, madame."
As soon as the porter left, Yara gazed out the window, looking at the passing scenery then the clear night sky. Something caught her attention. She said to Raine:
"Get a load of that! It must be the weapon heading for Benut. Raine, you must see this!"
Raine peered into the night sky, marvelling at the missile's bright streak of smoke. It must be that powerful, unlike any weapon she ever seen.
"Do you suppose we'll see it explode?," asked Yara. "Will we be able to see a big fireball from here?"
"Who knows," said Raine. "Come on. Let us celebrate Benut's demise...Hey, what happened?"
The train came to an abrupt stop; the lights in the car went out. From where they sat, Raine and Yara could see the lights in nearby Evska, the old Kororian capital, flicker out.
"I guess the power went out all over," said Yara who saw the porter appear at the door. He echoed that lady's assumptions.
"Sorry, ladies," he said apologetically, "But we seem to have a major power outage. I'll bring candles and lanterns, and I haven't forgotten your refreshment."
They heard an eerie scream then looked out the window to see another missile streaking across the sky.
"That must be the test weapon heading for Lemrac," said Raine. "Didn't Hert mention that it's really harmless, and that it'll protect us from any firestorm from the other missile?"
"That's what I heard," said Yara. "Well, we'll have to make do until the power's restored. This is one time I wish we were back in Tyq, with our lovers...Darn, and we're only ten minutes from Lemrac. I wanted to consult with Jolende about becoming one of her attendents...
++++++
In the provincial palace, in her bedroom, Jolende sighed and panted with carnal pleasure. She squirmed with latent ecstasy as Taren got up from the bed and refilled wine cups and snack plates.
"You will need some sustenance after that, my darling," he said. Sensing something coming, he muttered, "Five minutes...that's all I need..."
"What did you say, Taren?," asked a breathless Jolende. "I can't believe you want to couple a third time, and although the first two were rather quick, I never felt so utterly satisfied. Oh, Taren, where do you get your stamina?"
"Oh," he said, returning to the bed with wine cups, "it's my nature. See, where I come from, we're blessed with abundant carnal desire. We are quite an insatiable lot."
"But," she said disbelievingly after nearly draining the cup, "I thought you had no knowledge of sex. Why lie to me?"
"Because I wanted to wait until the right time to tell you the truth. Jolende, you just coupled with a Sineten, and it was your very last..."
In an instant, the room filled with a bright green light. Once the light subsided, in Taren's place was a creature Jolende had never before seen. He was still the handsome young man with glossy black hair and arresting green eyes. He still had the youthful, lissome muscular build – from the waist up. Below the waist he was all black scaly serpent. Taren briefly coiled around the bedpost; he eyed Jolende with a peculiar hatred. He said:
"I am Taren, a Sineten from Nemir, and brother of Gar. I was transformed by Dian, mother of Bliss, Gar's current lover. Now, that your time is at hand, the enchantment has worn off. See, Jolende, we had an inkling you and Banes had something to do with Vlaric's death. Know what? We have proof! Oh yeah, you may think Banes had Sadius killed, but he lived long enough to finger you and Banes, and this neat little plot to take over Eldonia. Guess what, Jolende, it ain't going to happen. Sadius, just before he died, revealed all, especially doping that tonic you gave Vlaric. The same tonic I gave you, in your wine."
He waved his hand to bring forth a talisman he had stashed under the bed. With the green orb in hand, he said, "The missile is the real thing, Jolende. In less than five minutes, all of Koror will be history. Everyone and everything completely levelled, See, the Alliance, once it became known that Amarah's descendant was indeed among us, had to move fast. The weapons were switched. The test weapon, by my calculations, arrived in Benut seconds ago. Don't worry; it'll do no harm to Benut, and Banes will have to live with the fact that he made the biggest blunder of his short career."
Jolende could do nothing but watch a still coiled Taren continue to taunt her. Why couldn't she see through this little upstart? Imagine, me, the pride of all Koror, coupling with...a freak! Oh no, how much time do I have? Enough to call for my guards to slay this...this thing...
What is this? I can't talk...Can't open my mouth...
She panicked and wanted to get up from the bed. She tried to reach for her dagger kept under her pillow, but couldn't. Whatever was in that wine shut down Jolende's nervous system. She couldn't talk or move; now her eyesight was failing her. Jolende watched in alarm as the potion produced ugly red welts all over her body. Even her face began to swell into a misshapen mass of ugly reddened flesh. She involuntarily stared into the mirror over her bed but couldn't look away or scream, not even cry, in terror. Her beauty, as well as her mind and body, was gone forever.
Satisfied with his handiwork, Taren held that green orb aloft, saying, "To Nemir!"
At once he vanished in a sea of emerald light, leaving Jolende to ponder her fate. The last thing she heard was panicked voices coming from outside the palace and within. Something was coming, and it wasn't what they expected...
Then an explosion followed by an all-consuming fireball...
Copyright©2006, 2007 by P.R. Parker. All rights reserved.