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The Afflicted Ch. 14

By: ShyChiWriter



Thanks, as always, for reading. Please do vote, comment and favorite if you are so inclined. If you find any errors, please do reach out to me via the contact button on my profile and I will correct them ASAP. 

**** 

Frederique, Palo, and company waited patiently outside for Aimée to return with Brana. In New York, Palo, Scaurus, Seiko, and company had made great progress, but now, with Aimée's deplacing abilities, they looked very forward to mounting an even more efficient campaign against Arnet. 

When a few minutes passed, they began to suspect something was amiss. Then, Frederique and Palo both turned to each other with concerned looks in their eyes. 

"Did you see it, too?" asked Palo. 

"I did," she said, sadly. 

"What?" asked Jessamine. "What has happened?" 

The newly-turned Afflicted girl was feeling particularly vulnerable. Only a few days before, she had been ready to live out her limited days in an Arizona whorehouse. Now, she was healed of syphilis and blessed with remarkable powers - but she found herself in the midst of a secret war among an unknown race and a madman of whom she had only heard whispers. Now, her two lovers had been whisked away. 

"They won't be coming back any time soon," said Frederique. "It was another one of those picture messages, but it wasn't from Abby. I think it was from the people Glennis belongs to." 

Palo wore a concerned look. "All I saw was them in the woods, and the gist of the message was that they were among friends... and that they wouldn't be returning for an indeterminate amount of time." 

"Fat load of good that does us," said Scaurus, cursing. "One deplaceur - one bloody deplaceur at our disposal and she's 'safe'. I don't give a shit about 'safe', we need a fucking deplaceur! I was sure we were about to turn the tide." 

"There's nothing to be done about that now. I'll get to Brana," said Frederique. "We'll start with the cadets, get them organized for the fight, and work our way out from there." 

Moments later the legendary heroine was standing at the entrance to the underground mansion. She was dressed in form-fitting, black and red battle leather. Every curve and every muscle of Frederique's body was magnified by the reinforced leather. Made by the finest craftsmen of the Afflicted, it would even serve as protection against blades. Only her exposed cleavage and neck were at risk from any darts. 

"What about there?" asked Palo, pointing to the heart-shaped cut-out which revealed her fulsome breasts. 

"Palo dear," she said, "I am Frederique. I have a reputation to uphold - and an image to keep. Besides, there will be no darts getting near me." 

"Let me come with you," said Palo. "My flying has improved immensely, ask Scaurus." 

Scaurus put a reassuring hand on Palo's shoulder. 

"I would put you up against the finest flyer among the Afflicted," said Scaurus. "But there are our finest, and there is Frederique. I would pit her against the North Wind - but it wouldn't be a fair fight. Poor wind, how sadly it would fail." 

The upward hatch was opened and a black streak sailed across the night sky. At the same moment, Arnet, in his stronghold to the north, felt a chill on his neck. He had good reason. Frederique had come to the fight. 

* * * * 

Aimée, Claude, Abby, and Jacob followed the man who led them into the clearing. There were torches set around the edges and in the center was a brightly glowing fire. Curiously, around the fire were several smiths who were attending to different mounds of coals and had anvils and hammers ready. 

There were perhaps ten smiths and they were made up of an even mix of men and women. 

Gathered around the clearing were hundreds of people. All of them were fair of skin, like Glennis, and they were all youthful in appearance. Yet, they were not young. (As one often noticed among the Afflicted, the eyes of the more long-lived people reflected the experience of many more years than the average human had ever seen.) Some stood, but most sat on their own chairs which were placed around the clearing in a pattern of intricate, yet indecipherable design. 

The four were led to some chairs near the fires and it was indicated that they should sit. There were seven chair and they were shown the four which were meant for them. 

Drums began to pound and music began. The players held implements which ranged from violins to lutes, from horns to recorders - many of the instruments were of an origin none of the four had ever seen. In fact, no mortals or Afflicted had ever been witness to such music. 

As the music reached full tempo, the smiths removed molten hunks of metal and began pounding in time with the beat. What they were making was soon forgotten. The cadence of the music changed and, as one, everyone assembled in the clearing rose and faced to the North as a procession entered. 

There were delicate banners festooned with ornate lace and weavings. Four on each side bore a splendid canopy under which walked a gorgeous assemblage, at the heart of which walked Glennis. 

Glennis had always had a regal, ethereal bearing about her, but now, begowned in white satin, her hair piled high in in ornate arrangements, and a delicate jeweled tiara in her hair, she was every inch a princess from the fairy tale books. 

The procession continued and the canopy reached the four Afflicted. Glennis nodded to each of them with a smile and then sat down in her appointed chair. The poles which held the canopy were placed in pre-made holes in the ground. As they settled into their resting points, the edges of the canopy fell, leaving them obscured behind a curious mesh. The fires beyond the nearly-transparent glimmered through the fabric. 

"Stand," ordered a woman whom they did not yet know to be a mother of Glennis. "You must be prepared for the feast." 

Two of the fair ones kind stepped up to each of their garments. Though they were in plain sight of those in the tent and likely visible to those beyond, there was something in the manner of the people with them that made them lose any trace of self-consciousness. 

Aimée smiled at the man and woman who removed her clothes. They gave her polite nods in return as they removed every trace of clothing. The woman picked up a bowl of what looked to be soap foam and began lathering it over Aimée's entire body from her neck downward. It tingled, and almost burned in a way, but not with any discomfort. The man took another sort of foam and began massaging into her scalp. When they were done, another attendant arrived with a bucket of warm water and poured it over Aimée's head. The water washed the suds from her hair and poured down over her body, removing the foam. Her hair was now glistening and her body had never felt so clean. She looked down to discover it was indeed 'clean'. Not a trace of hair remained anywhere on her body below her neck. The same had happened to the other four and they looked to each other with bemused expressions over what was being done to them. 

Abby's own attendant toweled her hair and they began to braid it on either side. 

"You may use my eyes," said the woman, with surprising understanding. 

The woman touched her hand to Abby's temple and the blind girl could suddenly see what the woman saw. Surprisingly, Abby could feel nothing else. Usually, when she borrowed other's senses she could detect other emotions and often would pick up on memories. With this woman, it was the sight alone. This was much like what Abby had done with Yusef in her recent confinement. 

Abby watched the woman's deft fingers braiding wonderful patterns into her hair. 'French' braid was an understatement, for the patterns the woman wove in Abby's locks had clearly been perfected over centuries. Parts of the braid were in the five weave, parts in a seven, and all in intricate loops and curls. 

"You have lovely hair," said the woman. "It is the perfect thickness for our patterns." 

The boys were getting their own treatment, their hair being combed and gently trimmed. 

As their hair was being finished, four attendants arrived with beautiful chests akin to what we might call steamer trunks. The containers themselves were the work of master craftsmen. None of the four could suppress a gasp when the lids of the casks were removed. Within the chests were garments of such fine make that the cloth alone was more beautiful than anything any of them had ever seen. 

Their attendants began dressing them. Undergarments first, piled on by an inner layer, then another, and a final outer lay of clothing. Each layer by itself was substantial, but together the clothing was heavy. It wasn't a bad sort of heavy though, it gave them a similar emotional feeling as one might feel with a heavy quilt on a cold winter's night. It was protective and well-made. 

Aimée's skin thrilled at the luxurious feel of the opulent clothing against her skin. She looked at the others and saw they wore involuntary grins from the feeling as well. These were not princely, nor even kingly robes. These were clothes built by the finest craftsmen the world had ever known. Even the finest work of the most talented Afflicted paled in comparison. 

The curious thing about their new clothing is that it was not formal in purpose. Aimée had been given a deep blue dress with high boots. She felt more beautiful than she ever had in her life, but she knew that if she were in a race or battle, she would be able to move easier than in any clothes she had ever owned. Abby was likewise attired, though her dress was of a light green. Claude was dressed in a crimson doublet and black trousers, and Jacob had been given an outfit of dark green. 

When the four were fully clothed, a separate smith approached each of them. Jacob and Claude were given wristbands with intricate patterns and countless jewels. The girls were given more delicate bracelets. 

Curiously, there were still two empty chairs. The smiths set a wristband on each of the chairs, each one more generic in make - as though the sex of the recipient was unknown. They noticed that there were small suitcases for clothes on each of the chairs as well. Before they had much time to ruminate on the missing players in this curious chess game, the music stopped. 

Glennis, unbidden, stood. The tent walls rolled back up again and they looked around to see that all of the hundreds who had gathered there were now standing. The man who had met them beyond the clearing stood at the center of the entire gathering and raised his hand for attention. 

"A welcome," he said. "A welcome to all of our kind, in this, our first full gathering in the new world. A welcome to our four guests, Abby, Aimée, Claude, and Jacob - four bright stars among the newer, remarkable race who call themselves The Afflicted. Finally, a welcome to my daughter Shoenweil. As the heavens decreed, she left us as a child, but returns now - confirmed as a bringer of destiny - for good or for bad." 

"I am Loenshellen," he said. "It falls on me to tell the story." 

"We shall hear the story," said the gathered people as one. "We shall hear it and learn it again." 

It occurred to Claude at that moment that the man was not speaking English or French. Yet, he understood him perfectly. It also occurred to him that Loenshellen was not speaking loudly, yet the hundreds gathered around them heard every word. 

He listened more closely to his words and realized his words were going out to people's minds. 

"Now sit," said Loenshellen, "for when the tale is told, it is told completely. It is a long story and I will not stop until I have completed the tale." 

Everyone returned to their seats and he bade the five honored guests to sit as well. 

Loenshellen bowed his head and prepared. A hush fell over the crowd. The story was about to begin. He lifted his head and spoke: 

"In the beginning, we were one people. In the place now called Mesopotamia, on the great rivers of the Tigris and Euphrates, all the people lived." 

"Those were times of peace. Food was plentiful and possessions were few. Man dwelt in the sun with few cares. Even the beasts and the serpents were happy. Man knew of them and befriended the peaceful ones, and avoided those who might harm us." 

"Eventually, things changed. Leaders became chiefs and chiefs became kings. Kings spawned greed, and greed produced war. Many stayed and fought, but an unhappy few did not wish to watch the sad state man had descended to. " 

"Those few left. They left that land travelled to the north. As they travelled it became colder and food became less plentiful. They learned to hunt and eat the meat of their prey, as well as make clothing from the skins of the animals they had regretfully slain. Further and further north they travelled. Children were born on the journey and parents passed on from age. Over hundreds of years they worked their way northward. At last our people found a beautiful valley. It was not full of eternal summer, nor was it perfect. Life there was hard, but food was plentiful enough and great homes were built from the trees which stood as tall as fifty men. The water there, especially, was clear and refreshing." 

"For many years the people dwelt at peace in the valley and they prospered. They still kept the tales of the old home alive, however, and the tales were told every year, just as I am telling you our tale tonight." 

"One year, during the telling, a surprising discovery was made. The storyteller was relating the tale of the journey to the valley, and the death of the parents. His tale was interrupted by a young girl who asked why the people had died." 

"He replied that they had died from old age, at which point the girl asked what old age was." 

"The storyteller paused and at that moment they all realized the truth of the matter. In all of their time in the valley, only three people had perished; one from an accident, and two from attacks of the great bears that lived in the valley. The storyteller counted and was astonished to learn he was well over a hundred years old, but he was not bent, nor were any among them." 

"They continued to live and flourish. Years passed into generations, generations passed into centuries. Ours was a peaceful existence." 

"After countless generations, we began to miss our brethren from our ancestral home and it was decided that a party should be sent out to retrace our steps from long past. Twenty went out, and I was among them. For nearly a century our people in the valley waited and when we returned it was with more stories of war, greed, and abuse of the gifts of the planet. 

"A few of our kind returned with mates from beyond. They were saddened to discover that those we brought back did not gain the ability to live forever as we had, nor did their children. Whatever had been in the water or the soil when we arrived at the valley had dwindled, and now only ourselves and children of our kind would be immortal." 

"It was then that we began to call ourselves the Elders - a race of men who had seen more of man's history than any others. We resolved then to set ourselves apart from mankind. We would observe from afar, but for the most part we resolved to dwell in our valley and seek to improve ourselves. With time and patience we began to discover the potential of the human mind and form. A few of us learned that we had the gift of flight (which is so common among your kind), others discovered the ability to levitate objects and from there the list goes on: reading minds; shaping metal; reading the stars; and on and on." 

"We established outposts among the mortals and watched their wars and conflicts with sadness. In various nations of man, we saw women rise to positions of power and scholarship, only to be subjugated once more by ensuing generations." 

"Eventually, mortals began to encroach upon our valley, though we put up wards around it to push them away. It became too much of a burden and we moved - settling in a lovely valley in the land you know as Wales. Our time there was peaceful and fruitful. We gained knowledge in the arts and the sciences and still we studied the stars." 

"It was in Wales that we saw the birth of your race. Though your hungers disturbed us, we were fascinated by your powers and your potential. We were pleased to see your kind evolve. However, we remained cautious as to what direction your path might take and we chose to remain unknown to you." 

"Then, the sign came. From a great distance, our astronomers saw two comets approaching our system. One foretold that we would need to leave our valley in Wales and venture forth to the new world of America. The other carried dire portents. It told of a child of our kind who would be bound to leave our care at a terribly young age. The signs told us she would be safe and would flourish... and that she would find friends among the hungry race." 

"The signs in the stars indicated a time of great peril to come, and that our child would play a great role in those times. Further, they pointed to the constellation known as the Pleiades - six stars in the heavens visible to naked eye, and a seventh obscured but no less important." 

"We knew the names of the stars: The Elder, the Bird, the Blind Caretaker, the Spirit, the Grasshopper, and the Mechanic. The seventh, the hidden star, we still do not know its identity." 

"Tonight, we welcome you. You are five of the seven in our prophecies. Our beloved daughter, Glennis, is the Elder of whom the prophecy spoke. Of that there is no doubt. The others among you are fairly self-explanatory. The Blind Caretaker is Abby; the Spirit is Jacob who can make himself invisible like a ghost. The Bird is Claude, who can soar in the skies, and the Grasshopper is Aimée, who can jump where she wishes about the planet. As for the mechanic and the unknown one, we do not know nor is it our lot to decipher. It will fall to you five to find the two missing from your number. That is the tale of the Elders and our path on this planet. The time draws nigh for you to fulfill your destiny. Succeed or fail, we are on the brink of monumental events." 

The five listeners blinked and looked around at each other, stretching their limbs. The story, as described above, is merely an overview. The entire tale had taken Loenshellen many, many hours to tell and had described every episode in great detail. The telling had not been only the words of Loenshellen, but images as well. All who were gathered there had seen hundreds, if not thousands of images and scenes from the history of the Elders as he spoke. The sides of the tent were now being lowered. The sun was rising, but the four Afflicted realized they had nothing to fear. Even though they could see the rays of the bright, ascending orb, the mesh surrounding them would filter anything harmful to them. 

"Loenshellen," asked Abby, "You said 'succeed or fail', what did you mean by that?" 

"Caretaker, Abby, it is time now to explain the chore ahead of you," said Loenshellen in a very serious tone. "We have watched our kind with curiosity and concern. The stars ordained that we were not to interfere or interact with the progress of the Afflicted until the greatest crisis occurred. We quite nearly stepped in during your last war with the one known as Jacinto, but the woman Frederique averted that disaster before we had to interfere. Jacinto's son, it seems, is fulfilling the prophecy his father began. He is threatening the balance of the very planet and we have grave concerns." 

"What do you plan to do about those concerns?" asked Claude. "It is obvious you are a powerful race. What will you do if Arnet does gain full control?" 

"You are a perceptive young man," said Loenshellen. "I will confess to you that we have often wrestled with the decision surrounding what to do with the Afflicted. There were many times in the early days where, just as your kind debated over the fate of the clockmaker, we wrestled with letting your kind continue. " 


The Afflicted Ch. 14



"As a rule, we do not interfere with other beings upon our planet. However, the Afflicted came as a surprise in both your powers, your rapid growth, and your potential dangers. It has often been debated whether we should let your kind continue." 

"Wait," said Aimée, "what do you mean, continue?" 

"I mean just that," said Loenshellen, "it is not our wish to do such a thing, but if we should combine our powers, we are capable of eradicating the Afflicted from existence. Arnet is the final test of your kind. The stars have ordained that if Arnet should triumph, your kind will have failed the final test and it will fall to us to eradicate the Afflicted once and for all." 

"But why?" asked Jacob. "There is so much good in us." 

"There is no good in anything being controlled by one being or force. Should Arnet triumph, his strain will pass down through his children and this planet will become an ugly place. We cannot let that happen. So, the task falls to the seven who have been foreordained; the five of you here, and the two remaining who are yet to be found. You will soon join the battle and should you fail, your kind will be erased. You must understand that we are the interpreters of prophecies and the adjudicators of the outcome. While we truly hope that you triumph, the signs decree that we cannot interfere in the final battle. You may win, or you may lose, but we can only watch and wait at the ready. " 

The four Afflicted youths looked at each other in fear. They never could have imagined such responsibility would be placed on their shoulders. 

"We will now prepare you for battle," said Loenshellen. "There is an ancient prophecy which we still struggle to understand. 'When four make five and search for seven, the final choice tells hell or heaven.' You are the four, my daughter is the fifth, and we will prepare you as well as we can. What we know is the sixth and seventh of your number will be key in determining the outcome." 

* * * * 

"I get to be pincushion!" insisted Jackie. "Petra has done it three times in a row, it's my turn." 

Frederique watched in with amusement. The cadets had explained the unique strategy they had happened upon. 

A decoy was sent in wearing the padded suit and mask. They would fly into the midst of a group of Arnet's followers and allow dart after dart to be shot into them. Once the decoy was sure the majority of weapons had been ejected, the rest of the cadets would swoop in and attack. 

"That's a wonderful strategy," Frederique exclaimed with approval. "I think we should give Jackie her turn - but I also think I should go in as a decoy." 

"But we only have one suit," argued Oppo. "If you wish to wear it, we wouldn't say no, but..." 

"I won't need a suit," said Frederique. "Just let me go in and draw more of their fire. With two targets, we'll empty their weapons more completely." 

"But..." argued Brana. 

"Trust me," said Frederique. "Now let's go wreak some havoc." 

A few minutes later, they were waiting in doorways and windows, on rooftops and chimneys as a squadron of Arnet's followers approached. 

"Are you sure about this?" asked Jackie. She and Frederique were waiting patiently in the middle of the street." 

"Absolutely dear," said Frederique. "I have been hiding for decades. I long for this fight." 

Two advanced guards turned the corner and gave a shout of warning. At least fifty mortals appeared within moments, as did several Afflicted fliers and others who kept to the edges of the larger group. 

"It's her," cried one of the Afflicted. "It is Frederique herself. The master will be so pleased!" 

"Come and get me then," called Frederique. "Let's not waste any time." 

She flew into the air and a great cry rose from the throats of the enemy, fearing that she might escape them. 

Dart after dart flew toward Frederique, and their aim was surprisingly good. However, Frederique had no fear. Since facing Bullet in the mine, she had discovered a new level of awareness. She had been fierce and amazing in the prior war against Arnet's father, Jacinto. But now, she knew she was all but invincible. Her senses and reflexes had reached a new peak. She felt like a tigress must feel against a human opponent, watching their slow and clunky motions in comparison to the superior raw, wild reflexes of a wild animal. The darts flying at her seemed to be moving at the rate of a gently hit badminton shuttlecock. 

Frederique dodged the first missiles easily. The second wave, she redirected, pushing out with her flier's ability to manipulate the air. She watched with satisfaction as these darts looped around and the red ones, filled with Arnet's Afflicted cells, looped their way around and shattered on the ground over and over. It seemed these special darts were quite rare, doubtless because Arnet had yet to find a way to replicate his Afflicted cells. 

The next wave came and to the enemy's surprise, they found their mark. A triumphant yell grew as they saw both Frederique and her odd companion become a pincushion of darts. 

What they did not know, however, was none of those darts had any effect. Jackie was protected by her massively padded suit. Frederique was so in tune with her powers that she was actually able to slow each dart's progress at the very last moment, so it only stuck into her black and red leather outfit - never having any chance of grazing the luscious skin beneath. 

Still, she knew how to play her part and she drifted down slowly, seemingly defeated as she settled upon the paving stones below. 

Arnet's followers encircled Frederique and an air of triumph washed through their ranks as she looked up at them with a beatific smile, her face a mask of innocence and bliss. 

"I never knew," she said melodiously. "I never knew what it was like to know such love. Tell me, have you all looked upon the master's face?" 

"Yes, we have," said the woman nearest her. "It is such a wondrous sight to behold." 

"I can only imagine," said Frederique. "And you must just hate to disappoint him." 

"It is the saddest thing in the world," said the woman. "To please him is our only goal." 

"Then you will all be sad this evening," said Frederique. 

"Why?" said the woman. "We are delivering his mortal enemy to him in a very short while." 

"That's where you are mistaken, my dear," said Frederique. "But I promise; we will do our best to take no lives. Does that bring any consolation?" 

"What do you..." 

The woman didn't have the chance to complete her sentence before she fell gasping in pain with an arrow to the thigh. 

In the distraction of Frederique's ruse, the cadets had surrounded the larger group of Arnet's troops. 

With surprising swiftness, the ranks began to fall. Arrows, thrown daggers, and then swords soon saw Arnet's devotees succumb. 

Within a few brief minutes, Frederique was hamstringing the last two fighters - two of the finest swordsmen the Afflicted had ever known - but they looked like rank beginners when faced with her sword. 

"I am impressed," said Frederique to the cadets. "Scaurus has obviously trained you well, and the battlefield has completed your education. Where do we go next?" 

The cadets beamed at her praise and they were off to the next skirmish. 

* * * * 

Across the city, one hundred soldiers marched in rows of ten en route to a building where Scaurus had been spotted. 

"Scaurus, come out," shouted Brolly. "Once we get a fix within the building you know you are no match for my sword - no matter how many centuries you've been fighting." 

"I'll take my chances!" boomed the gravelly voice of the ancient general. 

"As you wish," said Brolly with a grin. 

The back row of soldiers fell gasping to the ground. Either their calves or their thighs had been severed. 

"What in the world?" muttered Brolly. 

The next-to-rear row fell at the hissing sound of a blade - yet Brolly's finely tuned ears knew there was no ghostly warrior in their ranks. He had sparred against the invisible Jacob before, and he knew it wasn't him. He also knew it wasn't a jumper, for the air indicated no such implosions of one deplacing. 

Yet there could be no doubt someone was there as a third row went tumbling with crippling injuries. 

Brolly had been the one who found Bullet chained in the Arizona mine and was glad to have her rejoin their ranks.) 

"Bullet," he whispered. "Do you see the shadow upon that roof? That's our foe." 

The stoic woman warrior gave a grim nod and whooshed to the spot Brolly indicated. 

There were few who could even hope to stand up to a jumper with superior abilities - and Bullet was one of the best. The problem was, when she came up against someone who could match her talents, it came as a shocking surprise. Such had been the case with Frederique. Now, Bullet suddenly found herself facing another formidable opponent. 

Seiko, with her senses very in touch with anything related to air, instantly felt the change in pressure near her as Bullet materialized ten feet away. Without even a moment's hesitation Seiko shifted her focus and sent a battering ram of air toward the intruder. As a very surprised Bullet went sailing through the air, Seiko turned once again and sent one, two, three, and four rapid slashes through the air. She grimaced sadly as she saw several heads go rolling - in her distracted haste she hadn't been able to be as careful. 

Bullet winked out just before crashing into a wall and rematerialized next to Brolly. 

"A woman," she said. "Fights with air, or something." 

Brolly nodded his understanding and watched with chagrin as two more rows went falling with slashed legs. He jumped to where the woman had been seen, but she was no longer there. 

Turning back to look at the ranks, he grinned with wonder upon seeing the woman being carried by the flying Palo, suspending her below him as she sent out shots toward the soldiers below. 

"This is a good fight," Brolly said with his usual smile. "I like good fights." 

He winked back to the front and gave a great battle cry. Suddenly, from the sewers and the skies, the Afflicted he had been holding in reserve appeared. 

Seiko effortlessly swung around to ride atop Palo as he swooped down. The mistake of the fliers approaching them was to think that the diminutive Japanese woman's abilities only worked beyond her reach and that she wouldn't be a good swordswoman in close quarters. The descending fighters soon felt the sting of Seiko's two shōtōs, her paired short swords which wove an impenetrable web of steel around the two of them. 

For his part, Palo had made the unusual decision of taking up two revolvers. Given the enhanced abilities of the Afflicted, firearms were still against their general battle code. However, since Arnet's followers had been using guns with increasing frequency, he and Scaurus had decided they were allowable. 

Palo's aim was infallible. He had an uncanny knack for sensing the greatest threats in a crowd. His shots rang out and with each one, another opponent fell who had been leveling a shot at either them or at Scaurus who had entered the fray.  

Within moments, all guns had been neutralized and Palo had descended to the ground, depositing Seiko before rising again for the aerial battle. 

He and Scaurus fell into a familiar pattern, which Scaurus had perfected over the centuries. Their backs to each other, perhaps three or four yards apart, they circled slowly in a counterclockwise motion and fended off aerial attackers as they approached. 

The battle proceeded with surprising ease. Palo and Scaurus thwarted airborne attackers while Seiko wrought great havoc on the ground while showing surprising skill in fighting the legendary deplaceurs. Even Bullet's legendary swiftness was met with resistance from Seiko. Time and again, Bullet came up against the Japanese woman and found her attacks parried in ways she had only seen just a few days before against Frederique. Even when Bullet materialized directly next to Seiko, the woman sensed it and fought the deplaceur off. 

There was only one frightening moment. That was when Scaurus found himself face-to-face with the barrels of two guns. Both barrels, however, clicked emptily when the triggers were pulled and Scaurus quickly dispatched those opponents. 

A quarter of an hour later, all resistance had been eliminated save the jumpers - and it was clear to Brolly and Bullet that they would have to wait for another day before facing the fierce trio again. They winked out and returned to Arnet's headquarters, not looking forward to their Master's ire. 

After retrieving as many prisoners as they could to place in the now-burgeoning dungeons - Scaurus, Palo, and Seiko retreated to the kitchens in the great mansion below where they had set up headquarters. They were joined there for the first time by the cadets, Brana, and Frederique. 

It was a joyous time, as the triumphant fighters gathered. This evening, they had suffered only one casualty, a wounded cadet who would be fighting-ready within two days. 

"Any news from our four refugees?" asked Scaurus. 

Frederique shook her head, as did all of the closest companions from the Academy. They were all hoping for some mental word from Abby, but no one had received the slightest whisper. 

"Well, tonight, we celebrate," said Frederique. "The last time I saw such battles was above Paris, and I would wager that had we possessed such fighters we would have triumphed much sooner. I am so proud and impressed with all of you. Let us retire to the wonderful gymnasium for some much needed other activities. We must keep our minds sharp for the battles ahead, and we can't have them clouded by too many lustful thoughts. 

As the de facto beautiful and sensuous leader of the Afflicted led the main group of the American resistance to the gym, Scaurus held Palo back for a moment. 

"You know Palo, for a moment there today - I was sure I would be waking the next moment in Elysium." 

"It was a close shave there, for certain," agreed Palo. 

"The odd thing," continued Scaurus, "is the way both weapons misfired. I suppose that wasn't unusual in the days of muzzle-loaders, but revolvers rarely fail these days - the cartridges are so reliable." 

"It was odd, I'll agree," said Palo. 

"Too true," said Scaurus. "But oddly, this has happened every time we've fought. I've never had so many close calls or ever seen so many misfires." 

Palo said nothing. 

"It occurred to me that only a clockmaker could make something like that happen," said Scaurus. "Then I got to thinking about the young ones at the trial. I recalled the way their dampeners and cuffs fell away. Frederique carries the clockmaker's strain, but it couldn't be her creating this miraculous strokes of luck, she hasn't been fighting with us." 

Paulo spoke softly. "At the hearing, when they were speaking about the clockmaker's gift I had a sudden transformation. One moment, the world was plain and normal and the next I could see into every machine in the room. I realize now that this ability had lingered at the edges of my consciousness for some time, but the stress of the moment seemed to bring it out. I was afraid to say anything because of Christophe's dreadful legacy. I've been afraid to use it too often to avoid being discovered." 

"How much?" asked Scaurus. "How much can you do?" 

"I won't lie to you," confessed Palo. "I reached out and tried to look into people's bodies. My mind doesn't work like that. Machines, gears, they all make sense to me. However, I don't think I will ever to be able to stop hearts from afar." 

"That's good," said Scaurus. "You are a good fighter and a good friend. But do me a favor." 

"What?" 

"Stop fucking around," said Scaurus. "When we get to a battle, break everything. Every crossbow, every gun, every bloody stopwatch for that matter. Our job is to win and it will be much easier if you disable all of their weapons before we start." 

"Agreed," said Palo. 

They proceeded to the gym. 

"Scaurus," asked Palo, "do you think we will win?" 

"In truth, the odds are not looking good," said Scaurus. "Every day we take out scores of Arnet's people, and like a hydra he appears with two for every one we cripple. I've been through many tight scrapes and this is tighter than any I have ever seen." 

They opened the door to the gym and were treated to a sumptuous banquet of flesh. As soon as the door closed they were met at the door by two who had waited for them. 

Jackie took Palo's hand in hers. 

"Come with me, masculine and impressive Palo. I've always admired your son's wares. Let's see where he gets his gifts from. 

Seiko was also standing there, robed in elegant silk. 

"It's been a while, Scaurus," said Seiko demurely. "Hypatia has been keeping you too much to herself. Come on, then." 

She let her robe fall, reminding Scaurus of the lovely treasures she possessed. His clothes were off within moments and she leapt into his arms, impaling herself upon his ready member. 

Buried within her, he lifted her off of the ground and they flew to a raised cubby, well above the fray. 

A few moments later, on a couch-like softly-upholstered piece of furniture designed with only one thing in mind, Jackie hissed with pleasure as she pulled Palo's massive cock into her waiting silky folds. 

Palo looked over to his right. With a curious sense of removal he noticed his longtime mate riding lustily above a cadet she was straddling. Standing beside her was another young man, his shaft buried deeply in her throat. For a moment, he and Frederique caught eyes and in that moment they exchanged volumes. 

"Not now," her gaze seemed to say. 

Palo realized she was right. Their bodies were in a curious blend of in-between. They were out of phase. Should they lay with each other, it would cause confusion in their hearts and their minds. For now, they only needed two things - focus for battle, and relief from the ever present lust of their kind. 

Frederique removed the cock from her mouth and began working it vigorously with her hand. She gave a nod and a smile to Palo before turning her focus back her two lovers. 

What Frederique knew was something only someone who had been through campaigns was aware of. In times of war, it was not unusual for the body to go out of phase. It was a survival mechanism, in a way. The Affliction sensed the stress and grew 'anxious' itself and kicked the body into full lust mode. Galen had once explained it to a group of fighters that she had been part of during a minor skirmish in Mexico. He had explained that they needed to think of that delicious anticipation that happens during a date when both people know that lovemaking is to follow. The senses are raised, the heartbeat is quickened. It seemed that the Afflicted symbiote kicked the body into a state much like that. So, during battles, people experienced enhanced awareness. Connected to that, during the daylight hours, little sleep occurred and the libidos of the Afflicted were kicked into overdrive. 

Palo, too, turned his attention to the more important matter at hand. Jackie moaned as Palo plunged fully into her and began pushing in with almost violent rhythm. There would be no doubt that Jackie would remember, and feel, the encounter for days to come. 

"Give me everything you've got," purred the young woman. "Trust me, I can take it." 

This was not the first time Palo had heard such a request, but he knew better than to grant such a request upon asking. Even his magnificent Frederique had taken some time to become used to his size. So, he eased slowly into the aggressive young woman, waiting for the telltale signs of resistance. It took far longer than he expected, and he looked down to see less than an inch of his massive cock remaining to push into her. 




The Afflicted Ch. 14



"Keep going," she whispered. "I need it all. Give me everything." 

With raised eyebrows, Palo pushed the remainder of his monstrous/wondrous tool into his hungry lover and she took in in with a grateful moan. 

"Oh yes, Palo," she panted. "It feels so good! I can't even begin to describe it." 

These were urgent times and the lovemaking most often took on that urgency. Though sex was a requirement, there were also countless duties to perform. Palo began thrusting in and out of Jackie with a distinct sense of purpose. She met his deep gaze with equal intensity, wrapping her hands around his muscular buttocks and pulling him into her. 

His cock pulsed through her glistening chamber, spreading her wide and stretching her deep anew with each thrust. She cried out with joy with each push within, and he wondered how soon it would be before she tipped over into climax. 

To his surprise, it was longer than expected. She urged him to faster and deeper thrusts and he was the first to feel the twinges of orgasm beginning. 

She felt it, too, and cooed into his ear to let himself go. 

"That's it, my warrior," she moaned. "Spill yourself into me. Give me every drop." 

Palo gave a strangled cry as the first, white hot seed shot deep into her. His hips bucked and seemingly buckets of his cum poured into her. He was paralyzed, briefly, as waves of pleasure seared through his body. Yet, she urged him on more once his climax subsided. 

"Can you keep going?" she begged. "I'm so close and with your heat inside of me, it won't take much." 

Palo was, indeed, up to the task. His cock had lost little of its stiffness and he began pumping himself into the nineteen year old vixen once more. The added slickness of his first load truly had a magical effect on their coupling. He thrust into her with cum-lubricated perfection, allowing him to go faster and somehow even deeper into her willing chamber. 

Echoing the intensity of the battles in which they'd been participating, their lovemaking took on a battle-like rhythm. There was only one sabre in this duel, however, and it was piercing its foe to the core. 

"That's it," moaned Jackie. "That's it, Palo, I'm almost there. Almost... almost... almost... there!!" 

His slickened tool kept pulsing in and out of her cum-soaked pussy. Her climax, like her personality, was not one to die quietly. She shrieked out now as each plunge rocked her body and sent crippling waves of pleasure through every nerve she possessed. Just when she thought she was near the end, she felt his body stiffen again. 

Keeping him within her, she rolled them over so she could ride atop him for this second bout. She cried out anew as a second helping of cum began emptying into her. 

There truly was no room left for any of the fluid Palo was pouring from his surprising reserves. As she bounced up and down on his pulsating shaft, first drops, and then rivulets began dripping down his dark, shimmering shaft. 

"Oh god," she cried! 

The most surprising orgasm washed over her. It was beyond her control now and she involuntarily slid off of him, capable only of writhing in seizure-like pleasure. 

She did have, somehow, the ability to see that Palo was also still mid-orgasm. With whatever vestiges of control she possessed, she rolled over to pull his massive cock into her mouth - sucking hungrily at each spurt as the waves of pleasure still kept her reduced to a twitching mass of orgasmic ecstasy. 

What the two of them didn't notice, was the deafening silence through the rest of the room. Palo and Jackie's coupling had been so intense, everyone else had either stopped, or at least slowed while they watched the intense scene of the two lovers. 

One person who was watching with great interest was Jessamine, who was currently being pummeled from behind by Oppo. Jessamine had been with Claude a few times, and she couldn't help but compare and contrast the attributes and techniques of father and son. 

From her high perch, Seiko watched with... not jealousy, for that was an inaccurate emotion. Not envy, for she had also enjoyed Palo many times before. Perhaps it was anticipation. The young girl Jackie had illustrated what might be possible. 

For her part, Frederique had witnessed the wonderful session with a somewhat removed feeling. She'd had decades with Palo and countless of their sexual unions had been more intense and beautiful than what she'd just witnessed. 

She was too numb for an emotional response. Her children were missing, she had drifted apart from her mate through no fault of either of them, the son of Jacinto had risen to power... it was too much. There was only here, only now, only physical pleasure for this brief respite to feed her hungers and recharge her body for the battle to come. Her out-of-phase condition 

She stood up from the two cadets, who she had already finished off, and crossed to two young men who had just arrived from the battle and had the undeniable look of lust and need in their eyes. 

Her brain was in something very similar to matelust... but takes out the 'mate' element. It was pure, forceful, and almost frightening lust. She wanted one thing, and one thing only; to fuck as hard and as fast (and as many) as she could in order to quell her hunger and allow her to focus on battle plans as soon as this haze of need had passed. 

For the cadets, Frederique was a mixture of everything that was tantalizing. First, of course, was her beauty. Her face was perfect, her eyes sublime. Her body curved in ways more beautiful than any of the statues they had seen. Her impossibly large breasts seemed to defy gravity. There were the statues, countless ones, spread across the realm of the Afflicted. Paintings in every room, statues on mantles - and the artists had spared nothing in depicting her beauty and fulsome figure. Countless adolescent fantasies had involved her image. To be in the very presence of the legend who had flown through countless impure dreams was exciting to say the least. To cap off her mystique was the fact that she was a mother. All of them knew either Aimée or Claude - and though the idea of an attractive older woman had a different tone among their kind - the temptation of a friend's attractive mother was a universal aphrodisiac, whatever strain of humanity one belonged to. 

And so, it was with a stunned, hypnotic feeling that the two new arrivals walked toward the naked Frederique who was beckoning to them with an insistent finger. They stumbled out of their clothes as quickly as possible and walked into her welcoming arms. One of them bruising his lips on hers, the other sucking hungrily at her left breast. 

A few moments later, Palo awoke to two different stimuli. One was the eager licks and kisses of Jackie, who seemed intent on cleaning up every last drop of his cum. The other sensory input was of sound - it was the familiar moans of his longtime mate, mixed with the voices of the two cadets she had chosen. 

He looked down to discover his current companion actually wasn't Jackie - she had already left to attend to her weapons duties. Instead, it was Colette, the lovely French scientist who had been his relief during their forced confinement. 

"Do you have anything left in there?" she asked, kissing the tip of his cock playfully. 

It was a silly question, a fact made obvious by the way Palo's massive cock sprang resiliently back to attention. 

"I know we haven't much time," Colette said. "But I came in at the end of your fucking, and I just have to try you once today." 

She crawled up onto the padded platform and looked over her shoulder expectantly. There could be no doubt about her desires. 

Perhaps twenty feet away, Frederique had crawled on top of one of the young men. 

"Tell me something," she whispered. "Do you know either of my children?" 

"I know Claude," said the young man. "He was in my dorm." 

"What's your name?" she purred into his ear, snaking her tongue in to punctuate her question. 

"Jens," said the young man. 

"Jens, have you ever lusted after a friend's mother?" she whispered. 

"Many times," he stammered. 

Her moist labia were already caressing his stiffened cock and he found it difficult to form a sentence. 

"Did you ever follow through?" she asked. "Did you ever fuck a friend's mother?" 

"I... ah!" he moaned. 

Frederique had just pulled him into her warmth. 

"I wanted to," he moaned as she pulled him in even further. "And... ah... and my friend Belinda's mother has left me an open invitation for when I return from... ah...Academy." 

"How lovely," said Frederique. "What a warmhearted woman. Tell me, Jens, did you ever pleasure yourself while thinking of her? Did you?" 

"I ah... many times, Frederique," he moaned. "Oh how do you do that?" 

She had just squeezed him below. 

"Trade secret," she whispered. 

"Can I confess something to you?" he asked. 

"Of course, Jens. I insist." 

"I pleasured myself over you as well. We had a portrait of you in our entry way. You were in a soft yellow dress and your...ah... breasts were so lovely. I can't... I can't believe I'm doing this if you must know the truth." 

"My breasts, hmm?" she asked. "Which look better, the way the artist painted them, or these?" 

She pushed them into his face and hummed out in pleasure as his lips and tongue tickled away. 

"No artist could even get close to this," he moaned between licks and sucks. 

"Then that is where you must spill yourself," she said with a tender smile. "Promise me when you are ready, you will cum all over these objects of your youthful fantasies." 

"I will," he whispered. 

"Now your turn," she said to the other cadet who had been waiting patiently nearby. All the while, she had been expertly stroking his rigid cock with her free hand. 

"Tell me your name, my handsome devil." 

"Abdul," was all the young man could croak out. 

"Well Abdul, have you had similar fantasies?" 

He could only nod. 

"Then let's make them come true." 

She guided him to kneel behind her and his eyes grew larger as she guided his cock toward her, guiding him into a place he had never been before. 

"That's the way," she moaned as his cock slid into her tight and ready ass. 

For Frederique it felt good, so good, to be sandwiched between two young fighters ; to be fulfilling fantasies they had never imagined might come true. 

"You two are so lovely," she said in dulcet tones. "If I had lived near you, I would have made it my mission to be your awakening presents. Would that have pleased you? To have me be your first when your body woke to the hunger? 

They both agreed. 

"Let's pretend that it's now," she moaned. "Let me fuck you in ways you've never fantasized or dreamed." 

With imperceptible touches, she guided their two bodies. Taking on two men at once was not an easy task. Those unused to it would often find one man or the other slipping out because it took a coordinated effort. 

She was used to it. In her slutty academy days, she had reveled in threesomes and had loved taking in two boys at once. 

The old rhythms returned to her quickly and she gasped with the intense pleasure of two cocks dancing inside of her. She could feel them battling for space against the thin wall which separated her two orifices. She even knew ways to use that to her advantage, creating greater pleasure for all three as she squeezed her pussy and rocked her hips. 

The warm bodies sandwiching her increased her pleasure even more. Jens, below her, continued sucking her breasts and pulling at her hips. 

Abdul's warm back felt comforting and erotic as it rubbed against her. 

"Oh god, here it comes," she gasped. 

The first orgasm with the two boys came on like thunder. Her ass tightened down on Abdul and she pulled him tightly into her as she rose slowly up and down, moving a fraction of an inch with each orgasmic pulse, upon Jens's cock. 

Once it passed she started pleasuring the boys afresh. 

She knew what she was doing. She could feel the pleasure of each young man and could measure exactly how far away he was from his own climax. 

She controlled them. She would stop one and let the other quicken his pace, then slow that one and clamp down on the other's cock to push his pleasure even higher. 

Four times, she had her own orgasm, but masterfully held each boy back 

Several yards from her, the show she was putting on served as a reciprocal aphrodisiac to Palo and Colette. He was pounding into the buxom French scientist from behind. He was not pummeling her with deliberate and full strokes. His cock slid in so far and his hips smacked into her round cheeks with a small slap each time. Her breasts were swinging pendulously below her body, rippling with each slap against her. 

It was Palo who was in control with this pairing, and having cum twice already, he knew to the fraction of a movement how close he was - and always he would pull back just in time. 

Colette, however, was at his mercy. Twice already she had climaxed and his strong hands on her hips had held her up, refusing to let her fall to the padded surface below. 

She didn't mind. Her interior seemed to be in a constant state of 'quiver' and her heart seemed to be pounding through her chest, creating its own ripples in her huge breasts. She was loving it, surrendering herself to the pleasure for just a short while against the madness above. 

Palo was a wonderful lover. She knew he was not good mate material, not for her. She still held out hope for her darling Galen, though she worried horribly for him as the days went on. For now, Palo's muscular body, his muscular personality, his muscular cock, it was exactly what she needed. She needed his strength to overwhelm her as he had in their enforced isolation. He rocked her again and again, and again for a few seconds she was only here and their bodies sang together. 

Across the gym, Frederique felt Jens growing close once again. She pondered slowing her pace and delaying him for a bit more. However, he remembered the strategy session she had scheduled with Hypatia and Scaurus in a quarter hour and sadly admitted to herself it was time. 

She paused him for only a moment and allowed Abdul to begin thrusting faster again. With one final squeeze of her tightest muscles, she knew it was time. Both boys cried out and she pushed them away. The boys stood quickly and she took one cock in each hand. Jens screamed with pleasure, while Abdul was more quiet in his release. 

There was nothing 'quiet' however, in either of their eruptions. She held their cocks high and she gasped with surprised pleasure as the first wave splashed into her face from both directions. The next spurt she aimed lower and she almost laughed from the pleasure of feeling their hot cum splashing over her breasts. Another wave, and even more kept spilling out across her perfect skin. Pure rivulets of young seed dripped down and coated her raw pussy - soothing it and enflaming it at the same time. 

The sight of the white syrup cascading over the beautiful Frederique's body was all that Colette could take. Not even Palo's muscular arms could keep her up this time and she collapsed to the padded surface as the next orgasm shook her body. 

"Please, now Palo," she was able to gasp out. 

Following the example of the young men in front of him. Palo pulled out and aimed his cock over the writhing woman's back. Though it was his third shot of the day, it was no less impressive and Colette groaned with joy as she felt the hot streams lacing white ropes across her back. 

With that, it was over. The other lovers in the room had finished their biologically required fucking of the day. With scarcely a word, individuals retrieved their clothing and retreated to the many shower rooms around the edges of the great 'gym'. Interestingly, the men and women went to different showers. Time for sex was over, and the showers would undoubtedly prove to be distracting. It was time for work. 

Frederique was surprised to find herself in a bathing chamber with Colette and Seiko - her mate's recent proxy, as well as his de facto 'mate' in this odd time. 

They said nothing as they started the water. However, Colette gazed at Frederique with an odd hungry, expression, licking her lips at the tasty concoction coating the great beauty's skin. Frederique smiled with a shrug and started toward the streaming water. 

She was stopped, however, by Colette's hand on her arm. 

The woman dipped her head and began licking off the cum at the top of Frederique's breasts. Frederique was so surprised; she could do nothing but allow it. Her breathing quickened as Colette's hungry lips found their way to her nipple, cleaning off the slick remnants with more in mind than cleansing. 

Frederique moaned even louder upon feeling kisses further down. Seiko had knelt below her and was sucking the cum from Frederique's engorged and tender pussy lips. The Japanese woman's tongue soon worked upward and began flicking insistently at the perfect spot. Seiko kept kissing and flicking as Colette kept up her 'cleaning'. A few short moments later, Frederique surrendered to a silent, intense orgasm, supported by the loving arms of the two women who were with her. 

"Well, that was interesting," she said with a laugh. 

"I know," said Colette with an innocent shrug. "It just had to be done." 

They washed each other off in contented silence, and emerged from the showers with a secret glow. 

* * * * 

There were three men in the room. Twelve hours before, they had all been mortal. Now, they were Afflicted. None of them were bound to Arnet. They had been affected by Arnet's serum 'god's gift' and then Cora had held them aside in her chambers until its effects had left their systems. 

It was a curious mix of loyalty and selfishness which coursed through Cora's system. She was bound to Arnet through his bite and followed him with unquestioning loyalty. At the same time, she was enamored with her newfound powers - which were directly reflective of her former profession. For her entire adult life she had survived and flourished by bringing men pleasure. It had come as little surprise that her Afflicted gift had been tied into pleasure as well. Upon turning, her lovemaking skills went from legendary to hypnotic and she could also alter her shape, either subtly or in great ways in order to please her lover the most. She had worked her way through Arnet's followers, but had grown tired of them quickly. Those bound to Arnet only engaged in sex for their bodies' natural needs. However, when they made love her there was still always part of them that was focused on 'the master'. When Cora made love, she wanted her partner to be focused entirely on her. 

So, she had begun turning men for her own personal pleasure. She now had a full dozen men who she had turned all by herself. Interestingly, Arnet's strain was passed on and they did show him fealty, but it was to Cora that they were most bound. It was his strain, passed on through her, that they carried. She had coached them carefully as to how to behave around Arnet. They were expected to exhibit the same blind devotion as all of his followers, and since the pleasures of Cora were their reward, they put on a perfect act. 

At this moment, Cora moaned with pleasure as her current lover pounded into her, pinning her arms to the mattress as he took her missionary style. For her, each coupling was a challenge to bring as much pleasure as possible to her lover. She urged the man on with moans and nudges, squeezes and caresses. 

"That's it, my darling, cum for me," she purred. "Give me everything." 

This man had a particular fondness for more lithe women, so Cora was currently in a shape of tall blonde with smaller breasts. 




The Afflicted Ch. 14



The man cried out in rapture and she smiled as she felt his hot volumes of seed surging into her ready interior. He gave a strangled gasp as wave after wave of pleasure rocked through his system. 

"Oh Cora," he cried. "Oh...my... Cor...AHHH!" 

His eyes rolled back into his head and she gave a satisfied smile as she felt him collapse on top of her. He had fainted, losing consciousness from the overwhelming pleasure she had given him. 

This had been two in a row with the same result. She was anxious to try her expanding techniques on her next victim, but chose to revel in the lovely feeling of the unconscious man atop her for a few moments more. 

She returned to her own shape just as her door burst open and Arnet stepped in. He took in the scene with an impatient glance. He had no room for jealousy. Nor did it concern him much. Every woman who was now bound to him gave herself willingly and unequivocally. To him, Cora was an able lover, but she had many other useful purposes. 

"Cora," he said, "there have been more casualties. Please join me in the lower chamber as soon as possible. I could use your counsel." 

"Yes, Master," said Cora. She rolled the man off of her and donned a sheer robe, leaving several disappointed lovers behind. 

When she arrived at the chamber, Arnet was already questioning the first survivors who had managed to limp back from the encounter with Frederique and the cadets. 

"Master, they were formidable before," said a massive, muscular flier who was cradling an arm which had nearly been severed. "The cadets are good fighters - good fighters. But Frederique, I have never seen such a warrior." 

"It's true," said a woman who had almost as many injuries. "The demoness Frederique flies with such speed that I would suspect she was a deplaceur if I didn't know better." 

Two pops echoed through the room. Brolly and Bullet, relatively unscathed, appeared and knelt instantly before Arnet. 

"Our apologies, Master," said Brolly. "We have lost another battle." 

"Numbers?" asked Arnet. 

"Twenty-three initiates dead, over a hundred injured, at least ten Afflicted captured, and two score gravely injured and being retrieved." 

"Tell me, Brolly," said Arnet with contempt. "How is it that you deplaceurs always return with barely a scratch?" 

"Barely or buried, is the expression we use, Master," said Brolly. "As deplaceurs, we are trained to jump away at the slightest hint of a wound. It is instinctive. Even if it means simply sliding a few inches to one side or the other, if one of us can miss a thrust or a bullet, we will. If we can't... we're probably dead." 

"Please explain to me, Brolly, with your legendary abilities, along with Bullet. Why are we still fighting? I had assumed we would be done by now." 

"With all due respect, we are still fallible, Master," said Bullet. "And we are facing a steepening curve." 

Brolly picked up the thread. "Master, the first wave was easy, but the second was more difficult. The odds say, that the gifts and abilities of those remaining will make each victory that much more difficult. I foresee a victory, but it will take time, and based on the abilities of those remaining - our last battle will be against Frederique, and it will be a long and bitter battle indeed." 

There was a young, innocent-faced maiden waiting and watching Arnet with adoring eyes. Almost casually, he beckoned to her. 

"Come here, my lovely," said Arnet. 

Arnet loosened his trousers and his stiff member stood up, waiting and ready. The innocent follower climbed atop him. She moaned as she felt her Master pushing his way into her. 

No one paid any attention to this. Arnet's followers were used to him indulging his whims whenever and however he wished. He continued to speak, looking past the girl's shoulder as she began riding up and down his cock. 

"I have to say, I agree with your findings," said Arnet. "We definitely have a tough battle ahead of us. It is a tough battle based on the rules of the game we are currently playing. So, we change the rules." 

"Master?" inquired Brolly. 

"We need to move up our timetable,' said Arnet. "Today, we unleash the serum into the New York water supply." 

"But dear," said Cora, soothingly. "The supplies will not reach all of Europe until a week from now. All it will take is one cable to London and all of Europe will be on the alert. You are the one who said we must wait - be patient." 

"We can't wait," said Arnet. "There are only isolated pockets of Afflicted left in Europe and Asia. The battle that matters is here - now. Frederique is the key. If we can capture her and the damned empath, the rest will fall in time." 

"But..." 

"I will brook no further argument," said Arnet - emphasizing his point with an angry thrust into the girl on top of him. "This is the plan. Today we take New York which will give us an unlimited army. Tonight, we battle and begin to test Franz's device, and tomorrow we use our one million initiates to tear apart the underground brick by brick - pouring sunlight into any crevice which might contain our enemies. By this time tomorrow night, the world will be ours. Make it so!" 

Arnet's word was final. Deplaceurs and runners were sent off to put his plan in motion. 

The room emptied. Only Cora, a dark-eyed lieutenant, the girl fucking Arnet remained. Arnet continued enjoying the attentions of the young beauty who was still riding his cock with pleasure. 

"How are supplies?" asked Arnet of the lieutenant. 

"Greatly depleted," said the young man. "It was a costly day." 

"I'm so sorry, my lovely," said Arnet, whispering into his current lover's ear, "but I need you for the cause." 

The meaning of his words never registered on her. His teeth sank into her neck and sent a surge of orgasmic bliss through her body. As the pleasure overtook her, his teeth ripped into her neck and he began drinking deeply. With practiced familiarity, Cora retrieved syringes and tubes - replenishing the war supplies of Arnet by way of a shriveling young woman whose life poured through the ruthless leader's system. 

* * * * 

Abby, Aimée, Jacob, Claude, and Glennis stood at the edge of the lovely wood. They had been clothed in rich, light garments possessed of armor-like properties. They had been given weapons of the finest make, as well as jewels with unknown properties. Though they had pleaded for more assistance from the Elders, the ancient race was adamant. 

"It is not our path to interfere in this battle," Loenshellen had patiently explained one final time. "My daughter's part was preordained by the stars themselves. Beyond her part in this, it is only our role to observe and hope that your kind somehow triumphs. It would be a shame to lose you. We wish you luck, truly." 

They had been sheltered beneath a travelling sun-shielding canopy, carried by four of Glennis's kind. One of them was the young man, Kḗrnlōcln, who Glennis had known in her earliest childhood. He gave her a gentle nod, and smile. It gave her an odd feeling of reassurance as they prepared to set off on an adventure upon which both their lives, and thousands of others, depended. 

The sun eventually set and the canopy was removed. Loenshellen gathered the five friends into a circle and spoke in low tones. 

"We have told you all we can," he said in a solemn voice. "However, I wish to impart to you one other piece of advice. Do what is right." 

"What does that mean, father?" asked Glennis. 

"In each of us is a compass - an infallible, flawless compass which points us to what is right. Follow yours. When the greatest questions confront you - follow where that compass points you. Trust it. Good luck, children." 

Loenshellen stepped away from them and they took each other's hands. The sun set fully below the mountains. Abby felt her awareness of the rest of the world growing again. 

* * * * 

Louis Pasteur and Jeanne were now inseparable - though that had little impact on their work. They had worked for many years together in laboratories. Newly mated, it simply meant there was far more 'inadvertent' touching as they peered into microscopes or prepared cultures. 

"Do you have them?" asked Jeanne as Louis returned. 

"I do," said Louis. 

In his hands he held a tray of blood samples - none of them were labeled with the donor's name. Rather each tube had a number which would be cross-referenced against the master ledger. 

The numbers of these few specimens, however, did not need to be looked up. Each catalog number was burned into their minds. 

"So you think the key is in one of these?" asked Louis. 

"I do, absolutely," said Jeannie, "at least for the mortal serum. If we can discover how Arnet synthesizes the serum from his own blood, one of these will counteract his. If my theory is correct, a serum derived from another Afflicted host will cancel the binding effect of Arnet." 

"I see your logic," said Pasteur. "And I also agree with your analysis that one with strong gifts - a more natural bond with their symbiote - will prove to be stronger." 

He pointed to the six vials in the tray. 

"Galen, bless him," he said, pointing to the first vial. "Thank goodness he submitted this sample and kept it in the incubator before it disappeared. Then there is Hypatia, Palo, Brana, the young flier Oppo, and of course, Frederique." 

"Perfect," said Jeannie. "Each of them displays a unique strength in their strain that would absolutely negate Arnet's serum." 

"Except..." said Louis. 

He drifted off, contemplating an interesting possibility. 

"Except what?" asked Jeannie. 

"Except, if for some reason the donor's serum proved stronger - we could end up with mortals flying around." 

"True!" said Jeannie with a laugh. "But only for a few days, a week at the most - and I would think it could only happen in a small few. If this proves successful, I would say that's a small price to pay." 

They started working, extracting a few drops from each vial. When they were done, they placed the tray of precious vials into a combination safe. The safe was kept at slightly below body temperature to allow the vibrant Afflicted cells to continue living for days, even weeks. 

* * * * 

Palo had become appointed chief of communications, coordinating missives going to and from the pneumatic tubes, as well as those coming and going with their best fliers. There were large pockets of below which had been taken, but the secret tunnels connecting their underground mansion had yet to be discovered and coordinated communications with the others in the resistance had gone smoothly. 

He opened the second missive which had arrived from their daywatcher near the banking district. His brow wrinkled with concern and he dashed to the library. 

Frederique, Scaurus, and Hypatia were deep in planning. They looked up with concern upon seeing Palo dash in. 

"What is it dear?" asked Frederique. 

"It's the city. He is starting to turn it. Our daywatchers report increasingly large groups gathering, all of them with the same glazed look. Arnet's lieutenants deliver the word and that's all the people need to hear. They are being organized in massive numbers." 

"But how?" asked Frederique. 

"I don't know," said Palo, "I didn't think he had that many darts." 

"They don't," said Hypatia. "Get Colette in here." 

The voluptuous young scientist was called in and read the reports which continued to stream in. 

"It can't be darts," she murmured. "Too many and the spread is too rapid. Let me see the map." 

In their possession, they had what was perhaps their most valuable tool. It was a comprehensive map of New York. In truth, it was actually several maps, all drawn on transparent material which allowed them to be overlayed atop each other. One was of basic New York, the surface, another mapped out the Afflicted Below-world, another transportation routes, and so on. 

"Get me a new map," said Colette. "Hypatia, could you help?" 

A new, generic map was overlayed on top of the version below. Colette asked for the reports from the daywatchers and Hypatia did her best to sketch out the reports of where the changes had been witnessed. There was a distinct pattern, but looking at the maps below they couldn't discern what it meant. 

"Well, thank god for one thing," said Colette. 

"What?" asked Scaurus. 

"It isn't airborne. If he had succeeded in aerosolizing the serum, or - god forbid - attaching it to a virus, we would have had a bona fide plague on our hands. No, the ways this is spreading is coming from a source. A distinct source. It's radiating from these spots on 42nd Street and way up town at 86th Street in the park." 

She thought for a little while then snapped her fingers. 

"Radiating!" she said. Pull everything away but the map of the water supply. 

Hypatia did, and their answer immediately became clear. The strongest concentrations were nearest the two city reservoirs and pushed outward from there. 

"It's the water," cursed Frederique, "Damn that son of a weasel. Palo, as quick as you can, we need you to shut off the valves. Aim at the places yet to be infected." 

Palo nodded with a smile. 

"I'll get to it at once." 

"But this evening, use bleach," said Colette. "That should be all it takes to erase his serum." 

She was already sketching out a formula. 

"That many parts per gallon," she said. "Any less, it won't be effective, any more - it will be unhealthy." 

"Yes, of course," said Palo. 

An idea was already forming in his head and he dashed off to gather the personnel and resources he needed. 

Frederique cursed again, as something suddenly dawned on her. 

Scaurus made the realization at nearly the same time. 

"What is it?" asked Hypatia. 

"Fear the day," said Scaurus. "To date, Arnet has lacked sufficient numbers to come after us while the sun is shining. Now he will have no problems. He will throw every body he has at us with no regard for life. Tomorrow, during daylight hours, he will come with mirrors and prisms and fry us in our dens." 

"So it is tonight," said Hypatia. 

"Oui, it is tonight. Even running would serve no purpose. We must stop this, now." 

"Carpe Noctum," said Scaurus softly. 

"Yes indeed," agreed Hypatia. "Seize the night. If we don't seize this night, we might never have another night to seize." 

They all looked grim, but a slow grin slowly spread over Frederique's face. 

"We might just have a better chance," she said, grinning. "Hello dear." 

It was a bit perplexing. Frederique seemed to be talking to empty air. 

"Who is she talking too?" asked Colette. 

"I think I know," said Scaurus. "Let's leave her be for a moment." 

"Frederique, we are here," said Abby's disembodied voice. 

"I'm so pleased," said Frederique's voice, echoing through the heads of Abby, and her four companions. 

"We are getting ready to jump to you," said Abby. "I sense you are in a large, underground house? And many of the cadets are with you?" 

"Yes, we are safe, but wait," said Frederique. "There are odd things going on. It seems Arnet has found a way to spread his serum more widely. As dearly as I would like to see you all, I think you may be safer, and more use to us elsewhere. Find someplace safe to hide. I will reach out when we need you most." 

"Very well," agreed Abby, "We will stay in touch." 

Frederique smiled. 

"Soon, my children are coming home." 

* * * * 

"Somewhere safe," mused Aimée. "I'm trying to think of somewhere safe we can go." 

"I don't know about you," said Jacob. "But I say, to hell with being safe. I've been locked away for far too long. I want to do something." 

They all agreed. Being cautious was one thing; none of them were in the mood for 'safe'. 

"But let's be smart about this," cautioned Claude. "What do we have that no one else does? We have an empath who can read minds. We have someone who can become invisible. We have a jumper; the only one left on the good side from the sounds of it. I can fly. Lastly, we have Glennis. Among her many other skills, she can walk about in the daylight. Let's do our best to make the most of our gifts in this fight." 

"Agreed," said Abby. "I have an idea." 

Abby reached out with her mind once more and had a quick exchange with Frederique. 

"Abby, what's your closest jump point to 42nd Street?" 

"I... I don't know," said Aimée uncertainly. "Most of our jump points are underground; we don't always know their exact topside location." 

"I know one," said Glennis. "It is a building with an abandoned top floor. It is on 41st. I don't usually remember those things, but I loved the way the '4' and '1' were carved into the front of the building." 

"Forty-first it is then," agreed Abby. "See it in your mind, Glennis, and I'll give it to Aimée." 

The information was passed they were soon standing in the dim final rays of a setting autumn sun which shone into the higher windows of the building. The four Afflicted stepped quickly aside. The light had been dim enough that it had presented no real danger, but it was still unsettling. Once out of the light, Abby quickly reached out with her mind. 

"Oh, this is bad," she said softly. "There are so many, so very many, and they are entirely single-minded. Arnet is their only thought. Almost every single person on the street has been bound to him." 

"Almost?" asked Jacob. 

"Yes, there are some who aren't yet under Arnet's spell and they have learned to mask their behavior. There are others hiding in their buildings. It is so sad, really, the lack of thought in the heads of those who are bound to Arnet." 

"But they're still thinking, obviously," said Aimée. 

"But not in a right way," explained Abby. "It's just like I said so long ago. He is all they think about. Think about when you are in love. Your studies suffer; your mind keeps drifting back to 'them'. That's what it is like with these people, but multiplied. All they can think of is him." 

"Something's going on out there," said Glennis. 

She had been standing at the window. The sun was now entirely set and the others moved to the window. 

Below, ad hoc platoons were being organized and weapons were being distributed. 

"Where are they getting the weapons?" mused Claude. "If we could track down the source, we could do a great deal of damage." 

"Indeed," agreed Aimée. 

"Him," said Glennis, pointing down to the street. 

There was a man directing activities from a central vantage point. 

"I can tell," said Glennis, "of anyone in the crowd, he would be the one." 

"How do you know? Are you an empath, too?" asked Jacob. 

"Not exactly," she said with a shrug. "I just... I see things and they make sense. He is the one. 

"Very well, let's wait then," said Claude. Let him finish his business." 

They watched patiently as the captain, or whatever his equivalent rank might be, continued giving orders. Aimée watched the most intently and waited for the man to turn to walk to his next location. 

"Now," she whispered, "be ready." 

She winked out and snatched the leader so smoothly that none of his companions even noticed he was gone, but merely looked about thinking he had gone ahead or taken his own path to their next location. 

As for the man, he certainly noticed something was amiss. He was midstep one second, and the next he found himself being pinned to the floor by a redheaded young man, and another with brooding eyes and a dark complexion. 

"Where is it made?" asked Aimée, who towered above him. "Where is Arnet making the serum?" 

"I'll never tell," he said. "I would rather die than betray the master." 

"You don't need to do that," said Abby. "We don't wish to kill you." 

"No we can do this the easy way, or the easier way," said Aimée. 




The Afflicted Ch. 14



"What's the easy way?" asked the man. 

"I could beat the daylights out of you and torture you until you talked," she said with a coy grin. 

"What's the easier way?" he asked, confused. 

"We let our lovely little redheaded friend here suck the thoughts from your brain as easy as a mosquito pulls out blood." 

"You!" cried the man, suddenly struggling. "The master wants you desperately, almost as much as the demon Frederique. Ow!" 

Claude had punched him squarely on the jaw. 

"I would thank you to not speak of my mother in such a tone," said Claude. 

"Well," said Jacob, "it looks like the easier way it is." 

Abby reached down and touched her hand to the man's cheek. As much as he tried to push his mind away from what she was seeking, she found getting the information as easy as finding a four year old playing hide-and-seek. 

With that, the location came to the surface of their captive's mind. It was a great warehouse with endless machines. The view of it was distinct and clear. She passed it on to Aimée. 

"I can get us there," said the deplaceur. "No problem." 

"But what do we do with him?" asked Claude. 

Aimée pondered the question. 

"Well," she muttered. "It seems almost immoral in a way, but it is the one place I can think of that no other jumper would know about. Give him to me." 

She took the man by the lapels of his coat and wrapped her hand around his neck. An instant later, the man found himself lying beside an opulent underground swimming pool. There was a thin layer of dust, and a spot of dried blood on the tiles, beyond that, he was alone. 

She returned to her companions and explained where she had taken the man. 

"Brilliant," exclaimed Claude. "There's food there, and certainly more than enough water. I'm happy now that the Council never sent deplaceurs to retrieve us. Our location was always a secret. The good news; it still is." 

"I have an idea," said Jacob. "Scaurus always said, cut off the snake at its head. What say we get as many 'heads' as we can? I hear Morocco is lovely this time of year - let's give them a holiday." 

That is just what they did. With Abby's empath abilities, Glennis's unique talents, and their other skills, Arnet's leaders began disappearing at an alarming rate. By the end of a single hour, there were more than fifty men and women - both Afflicted and mortal, locked away in a grand home, in a tiny village of Morocco as far from civilization as one could imagine. 

Telepathically, they relayed news of their activities to Frederique. She expressed her pride. 

"Let us take it from here," Frederique told them. "I suspect our jobs will be much easier with you having eliminated the leaderhsip. Go and find the source and be careful." 

Aimée affixed the image Abby had given her. A moment later, the five of them were in the middle of a great and wonderful factory. Brass pistons and well-oiled gears clanked and hummed all around them. Overhead, electric bulbs burned brightly. They dodged into a darkened corner and looked around - both awed and overwhelmed at the complexity of Arnet's operation. 

They were lucky, in a way. The factory operated around the clock, but the first few hours after sunset were the quietest times, when the Afflicted workers satiated their hungers, and the mortal workers took their evening meal. 

"So, we need to break this," said Jacob. 

His tone reflected the overwhelming feeling they all felt. Short of a massive fire or explosion, the factory was not an easy target for them to take down. 

"Wait here a moment," said Aimée. 

"Where are you going?" asked Claude. 

"For help," she explained. "I'll be right back. 

She disappeared. A few moments later, she was back. Beside her stood a handsome, shy-looking Frenchman. 

"Bonjour Martin," said Abby. "How lovely to see you again." 

"Lovely to see you, too," said Martin. As before, he showed the same unflappable oddness which made him so good as a craftsman, but often awkward in social situations. 

This was clearly evidenced by the fact that he'd just been whisked half-way around the world with no way to explain how, but he was now studying the situation around him instead of panicking. 

"What is this place?" asked Martin. 

"It's a factory," said Aimée. "We need to break it." 

"Ah," he said calmly. 

He pondered the amazing machinery around them. 

"I think first you should explain all of this," he said. "This seeing without seeing; this popping through the air and traveling to places unknown. This... flying?" 

He pointed to Claude with a piercing expression. 

"How do you know I fly?" Claude asked. 

"There are a few things - but most of all it is your hair - it is pushed in such a way that could only happen if the breeze hit you from above, or if your head was pointed directly into a breeze with your body at a horizontal angle." 

He looked at Jacob and Glennis. 

"As for you two - I can't discern what might be different about you, but you both are just as unusual as the others - so I'm sure there is something. So please, explain to me what this is all about - and then we can discuss what might be done with this odd factory." 

"We don't have much time," argued Claude. 

"We don't need much time," said Abby. 

"But..." argued Claude. 

"Trust me, Claude," said Abby. 

She took Glennis's hand in hers. 

"I need your help." 

Glennis nodded. 

They approached Martin. The two girls stood on either side of him and leaned into him. Abby placed a hand to Martin's temple and Glennis echoed her movement. Martin's eyes flew wide open and a surprised smile crossed his lips. 

"Such wondrous things," he said. "Such wondrous, wondrous things." 

His eyes closed then, as years' worth of information flew into his mind by way of Abby's empathic abilities, and the unique picture-speak of Glennis's people. 

A mere two or three minutes later, Martin gasped and he looked about at the companions with a smile. 

"Do you see what this means?" he asked. 

"What?" asked Aimée. 

"It means I am the mechanic from the prophecy." 

**** 

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