New World Man Pt. 03

Author's Note:

See Pt. 1 for blurb. Also, if you haven't already read Pt.'s 1 & 2, I strongly recommend doing so before proceeding.

All sensuality (on page or otherwise) takes place between characters who are eighteen or older.

Twenty-Nine

George exited his office feeling somewhat conflicted. Despite all he had been through, death of any kind still turned his stomach. He had no qualms about their mission and agreed wholeheartedly with Heath as to Columbus's un-deservingness to continue to draw breath, but the knowledge that another man had died as the result of his actions still haunted him. He knew this was an unusual position for one who had killed in battle to take, but he decided that he would vastly prefer being conflicted over such things if the alternative was to truly become a heartless bastard.

He stopped short as he approached the front door at a sight which instantly made him question his grip on sanity. Lulu and Jariana stood arm in arm facing him, neither wearing anything beyond a smile. His eyes drank in their impeccable bodies.

To his left was the fierce, yet gorgeous warrioress. Her full D-cup breasts capped by dark areola and large nipples swayed gently as she sighed breathily under his inspection. Below her prominent abs sat a thick thatch of dark brown pubic hair with her smooth pussy lips just visible between her slightly parted thighs. Gone was her typically guarded expression, replaced by a look of hungry desire.

To his right was the stunning, yet brilliant burgeoning scientist. Her body was even more lithe than he could have imagined, with a perfectly flat tummy and strikingly narrow waist. At the apex of her thighs was a sparse patch of light brown pubic hair which merely hinted at the treasure concealed within. Her B-cup breasts featured small, dark areola and tiny nipples. They sat so high on her chest that he would have sworn they had received an assist from medical science (were such a thing not impossible).

As he gazed at them dumbfounded, Jariana leaned in to whisper in Lulu's ear which caused the latter to smile widely. George literally slumped against the wall as Lulu turned and kissed Jariana passionately. Their kiss quickly grew heated, and Jariana groped her lover's breast libidinously as Lulu parted her lover's pussy with her fingers before sliding a digit into her soaked opening.

They parted and Lulu smiled at him before saying, "How did your conversation go?"

"What?" George stammered, unable to take his eyes from where they still teased one another.

"You said you had more pressing business," Jariana sighed. "You asked us to wait for you. We warned you that we might find it necessary to distract one another."

As if they had received a silent command from Zelda (which, George realized, was not out of the realm of possibility), they sauntered toward him. Without preamble, Lulu slid her moistened finger into George's mouth. She captured his ear with her lips and whispered, "Isn't she delicious?"

He sucked her finger, his senses overloading with the taste of Jariana's essence on his tongue. This feeling intensified as he felt a pair of hands sliding over the front of his trousers, finding his pulsing cock within and tracing its outline.

"I suspect," Jariana whispered, "that our lover would like to clean up after our trip today." She lathed his ear with her tongue before adding, "Could we shower with you, lover?"

George nodded dumbly and allowed them to lead him to the house's master suite. Contained within was a bathroom which would rival most mansions with a soaking tub built for four and a shower which was at least as big as the bed in the adjoining room and contained a half-dozen places from which water could spray. Jariana started the water as Lulu efficiently, but sensually, divested George of his clothing.

As the latter stood up to face him, she smiled and said, "Thank you for convincing her to join us."

"I suspect you had at least at much to do with it as I did, honey."

She shrugged and said, "Perhaps." She gestured with her head to the shower and said, "Shall we join her? I know she is very anxious to savor you."

George felt a pearl of precum form at his tip in response to Lulu's words and watched Jariana lick her lips in anticipation. As he stepped beneath the warm water, she flowed against him and captured his lips as her hand found his manhood. Their tongues slicked together eagerly, and he slid his hand down over her taunt ass and groped her confidently.

She sighed as they broke their kiss and whispered, "May I please taste you?" He could only grunt in reply, so she lifted her finger to her lips suggestively, sucking one into her mouth before adding, "It is only fair. You got to taste me."

"Christ," he stammered as she dropped to her knees and gazed adoringly at his throbbing member.

Just as she started to lean forward, Lulu tilted his chin up and kissed him fiercely. Her tongue flashed between his lips just as he felt Jariana's lips slide around the head of his cock. His slammed his hand against the side of the shower to brace himself lest the pleasure tsunami that was assaulting him cause him to fall. Jariana did not face fuck herself like so many women from his time did. Instead, she worshipped his manhood with her mouth; lathing him patiently with her tongue as she gently bathed him in saliva. To attempt to stave off his rapidly approaching orgasm, he focused on Lulu; flicking her clit with his thumb as his fingers slid into her dripping entrance.

Jariana pulled off him with a pop and switched to the apex of Lulu's thighs. She alternated between sucking her lover's juices from George's fingers and pleasuring her clit directly. George took advantage of the latter scenario to join her on his knees. He kissed her deeply before they combined to pleasure the warrioress. Jariana's eyes widened in surprise when George moved around behind Lulu to bury his tongue between her cheeks.

"Yes," Lulu hissed at the sensation of his tongue pierced her puckered star while Jariana's tongue pleasured her clit, and their joined fingers fucked her pussy.

Within moments, Lulu was screaming incoherently and shuddering between them. George helped her sink down to the tile before she wordlessly waved him toward Jariana.

He turned to find her looking at him in amazement. He crawled toward her and said, "Your turn."

Jariana smiled coquettishly and rose above him. Without preamble, he buried his face between her thighs and sank his tongue into her core.

"Goddess," she breathed.

He teased her entrance with his fingers and studied her expression carefully for approval before entering her. Her eager nod quickly turned to her eyes rolling back in her head as he resumed his attention on her clit. Even with his fingers, he could feel how exquisitely tight she was. He added the pad of his thumb stroking her asshole to his index and middle fingers thrusting into her soaked entrance. Almost at once, her inner walls clamped around his fingers as she silently began shuddering in release. George stilled his movements, not wishing to overwhelm her, and contented himself with gazing up along her tantalizingly tight body.

At length, her eyes reopened and she looked down at him adoringly before sinking to her knees to kiss him passionately. Time seemed to stop as their tongues intertwined and their souls once again seemed to become one. He felt as though he could feel her love encircle him comfortingly even though their relationship was still technically in its infancy. He tried to send the same emotions back toward in in full measure and was amazed when she sighed into their kiss in reply.

They parted to find Lulu gazing at them happily. She said simply, "I knew it."

George smiled at her and said, "I wonder how I could ever show my appreciation for your brilliance."

She glanced down at his lap before murmuring, "I could think of a few ways."

"Is that so?" he asked before standing up to tower above them. She gazed up at him questioningly before rising to her knees and crawling toward his cock as she licked her lips. He waggled his finger and said, "Oh, no." She pouted as she looked at his cock longingly, but he added, "This is about your pleasure, honey. Come here."

She stood quickly and turned at his gesture. He gripped her hips and pulled her closer. His cock nestled between them, and she whimpered in eager anticipation. He spread his legs and bent his knees slightly to run the head of his manhood along her smooth lips.

"Please," she whispered desperately.

"As you wish," he murmured as he sheathed himself in a single firm thrust.

"Fuck!" she hissed as he pulled back before ramming himself home again. "That feels so good."

He quickly built up the pace until he could see her large breasts swaying beneath her. Each time their centers met, he heard a corresponding slap as her tits met energetically. He wrapped her long hair around his fist and tugged her toward him. She arched her back enticingly, allowing him to drive even deeper into her. He started to reach around her to pleasure her clit only to hear her gasp in delighted surprise. Before he could form a thought about her reaction, he felt Jariana's tongue tease his balls enticingly. Their lover quickly found a rhythm, using long strokes of her tongue to pleasure Lulu's clit along with George's shaft and balls.

The feeling threatened to overwhelm his control, but a desperate burning in his legs quickly began to occupy the majority of his attention. Even with his greatly increased level of physical fitness, he was still not in porn star shape and thus squatting uncomfortably as he thrust into his lover was quickly threatening to put him on the injured list.

He pulled out and sank back against the wall before stammering, "I'm so sorry, honey. I can't... anymore."

Lulu slumped against the wall and laughed before saying, "I'm glad you said something."

"Perhaps we should move to the bed," Jariana suggested from beneath them. "Before someone gets seriously injured."

They quickly shut off the water. Toweling each other off took longer because they quickly started pleasuring each other. George felt his legs start to shake again as he licked between Jariana's widespread legs as she sat on the counter and Lulu sucked him while she sat on the floor between his legs. His lovers quickly recognized his plight and stood before departing the bathroom arm in arm.

When they reached the bedroom, Lulu said, "It is time, beloved. You must make her ours."

Jariana climbed onto the bed alluringly and presented herself to him. She looked over her shoulder at him and bit her lip in anticipation. He was forced to endure the momentary hurt in her eyes when he shook his head.

Lulu quickly said, "It was the same with me. Our lover wants to look at your face when he takes you. At least the first time."

"Oh," Jariana said as the light came back to her eyes.

She rolled over onto her back and opened her legs invitingly. George climbed between them and lined himself up with her entrance before claiming her lips. He sank into her in time with their kiss deepening and she sighed into him in exultation. He quickly built up his pace and knew almost at once that he had already passed the point of no return.

He glanced down at her apologetically and said, "I'm sorry, honey. I won't last long."

"Why would you be sorry?" she sighed contentedly.

"Because he expects to take you to heaven before he gives you his seed."

Jariana smiled and said, "But you've already taken me there, beloved. Please, George. Let me take you to heaven."

"Oh, baby," he whispered as his orgasm consumed him. His hips thrust a final time as he exploded into her waiting womb. His body spasmed countless times as he filled her molten core with his release.

He slowly reentered his body to find that Jariana was gazing up at him lovingly with Lulu by her side. The former said, "Thank you, my love."

"It is I who should be thanking you, honey," he sighed as he sank onto the bed beside her. "That was incredible."

He spotted motion and glanced down to find Lulu lazily toying with Jariana's creamy slit. This quickly gave way to Lulu rotating around to come face to face with the object of her attention. She slid a finger into Jariana slowly and extracted it carefully, a large dollop of George's seed dangling from her fingertip. She tried to bring her treat to her lips, but it dropped onto Jariana's taunt tummy instead. Lulu quickly ducked her head to lap up her lost prize. This spurned her onwards and she dragged her tongue through Jariana's pubic hair to her glistening pussy.

Lulu dove in eagerly, slurping their combined juices from her lover's pussy. Jariana moaned in response, her hips thrusting upwards into her lover's tongue. George sighed at the unforgettable sight of Lulu hungrily cleaning Jariana's pussy and reached for his quickly hardening cock. His manhood sprang to full attention, however, when Jariana tapped Lulu's thigh and was rewarded by the latter straddling her face. Both women eagerly dove in, drinking deep of the intimate moisture offered up to them.

Part of George pleaded with him to simply enjoy the visual feast offered up to him, but this was quickly overridden by an insatiable desire to join them. He scrambled to his knees and lined himself up behind Lulu. She grunted in happy surprise as he sheathed himself in her and he was quickly rewarded with the feeling of Jariana flicking her tongue along his balls.

With the helpful assistance of his recent orgasm, he was able to quickly establish a near-hectic pace with his thrusting. Within moments, Lulu was moaning loudly into Jariana's pussy. He could feel the tip of the latter's tongue tease his shaft occasionally as she relentlessly lathed Lulu's clit. Within mere minutes, Lulu was screaming in pleasure and spasming between them as a massive orgasm consumed her.

George pulled out so as not to overwhelm her and quickly found his cock being slurped between Jariana's heavenly lips. She sucked him eagerly and the mewling sounds she made around his shaft encouraged him to thrust gently into her heavenly mouth.

When Lulu rolled bonelessly to the bed, George looked down at where Jariana was stretching to reclaim his cock with her lips and said, "Roll over." She happily complied, rising up to her knees. He again shook his head and said, "Lay flat. Trust me."

She smiled up at him as she followed his direction and said, "Of course, I trust you my love. With all that I am."

"Same here," he replied huskily. "You're both so goddamned perfect I honestly can't be certain I didn't die months ago and somehow earned this incredible afterlife."

She shrugged and shook her impeccable ass at him. "Does it really matter?"

"Not particularly," he answered as he groped her luscious ass. He spread her cheeks apart and moved to press himself against the entrance to her drenched pussy. He leaned over her and whispered, "Are you ready?"

"Always," came her reply, which turned into a soul-deep sigh as he sank into her. "Goddess, you're so deep."

He kissed along the back of her neck as he took her with deliberate slowness, cherishing the way her agonizingly tight pussy pulsed around his throbbing manhood.

"That looks amazing," Lulu whispered as she watched them in awe. "I'm almost jealous."

"You never need to be jealous," he replied confidently. "Come here."

She pivoted around to present her pussy to him, and he did not hesitate to taste the offered treasure. She was soon forced to move slightly as Jariana joined the feast. In no time, Lulu's moans filled the room as her lovers focused their efforts on her pleasure. George knew Jariana was climbing the peak right along with her based on the almost painful clenching of her inner walls around his manhood.

It was impossible for him to tell which woman's pleasure arrived first, so close together were their screams of pleasure. He continued pleasuring both as wave after wave of bliss crashed over them, but he stilled his movements when their spasms subsided.

He pulled out and stared down at the incredible sight of the women desperately trying to catch their breath, Jariana's head pillowed on Lulu's inner thigh. "You're both so fucking beautiful," he whispered. "How did I ever get so lucky?"

Lulu began to recover first and whispered, "You didn't finish?"

He nodded and said, "Yes, I did. Perhaps you remember? The creamy pussy and the licking? I know I'll never forget it."

"I meant you didn't finish again." Lulu persisted.

"It's fine," he deflected.

"It is not fine," she insisted. She slid over to him and said, "In any case, there is one more thing you must do."

"And that is?" he replied with a goofy grin on his face.

By way of answer, she pulled him closer until he was kneeling between her thighs. She slid his cock along her drenched pussy several times before lining him up at her puckered star. She smiled up at him in eager anticipation and said, "I want you to take me, George. Like this," she pushed the head of his cock against her asshole firmly. "As no man ever has, and as no other man ever will."

"You're sure?"

"I have never been more certain of anything," she replied confidently.

He nodded and pushed himself forward gently, watching in amazement as the head of his manhood disappeared into her forbidden entrance. She sighed in complete contentment and nodded enthusiastically. He continued pushing forward until he was fully sheathed.

"That's... incredible," she hissed. "I feel so full."

"You feel amazing," he whispered reverently.

"Take me, my love," she encouraged him quietly.

He began stroking slowly into her, barely able to even comprehend the pleasure he was experiencing. Jariana quickly regained her senses and slid down to watch their joining in amazement.

She looked to Lulu and whispered, "How does it feel?"

"Perfect," her lover sighed.

George continued building up his pace until Jariana motioned for him to rise up on his knees. He looked at her questioningly until she straddled Lulu's face and ducked down to pleasure her clit as her lover returned the favor. The threesome's moans soon filled the room as they all headed toward another explosive conclusion.

Lulu's pleasure arrived first and George's nearly lost control as her asshole tightened around his cock. Jariana rose up to properly ride Lulu's tongue, presenting an impeccable sight for George's eyes. Lulu's luscious curves jiggling with each thrust as he repeatedly sheathed himself in her ass combined with Jariana's model-perfect body quivering above her brought him quickly to the brink.

"Cover us," Jariana whispered urgently. "I want to watch you erupt in ecstasy."

He groaned in pleasure at her words and yanked his hips back as he started to cum. Gripping himself in his fist, he exploded across their bodies. From Jariana's perfectly flat belly to Lulu's thick bush, endless spurts of his essence coated their glistening skin.

As he dropped back onto his haunches, he watched a dollop of his seed stream down Jariana's sweat-soaked skin onto Lulu's waiting tongue causing the latter to sigh in contentment. Within seconds, the two lovers were laying side by side sloppily sharing the last remnants of his orgasm.

When they finished their treat, they turned to him and beckoned him to the spot between them. He gladly nestled into their heavenly embrace, barely managing to kiss each thoroughly before unconsciousness claimed the happy threesome.

Thirty

"You look like you got hit by a truck," Rachel observed playfully. "Not that trucks exist yet."

George started at the sound of her voice, it having pulled him from a mindless reverie as he sat atop the compound wall and watched a storm form out over the ocean. He looked up at her with wild eyes and gasped, "What?"

She chuckled and said, "Wow. They really did a number on you, didn't they?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Those two gorgeous locals. Unless I miss my guess, they gave you the time of your life last night."

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, George," she retorted good-naturedly. "The whole compound, hell probably the whole low country, could hear you guys screaming in rapturous bliss. I believe your exact words were," she dropped her voice to speak in a teasing, monotonous tone, "Oh... fuck... yes... just like that... take that reasonably sized although in no way remarkable cock... you dusky skinned cum slut."

"Fuck you," he growled angrily. "I would never..."

She guffawed and said, "Jesus Christ, I miss phones. I so fucking wish I could have captured your face just now." She regarded him for several moments before finally sighing and adding, "Come on, George. You know I was fucking with you. I know it made things weird because we had sex, but we were friends before that. You used to bust my proverbial balls all the time about being Heath's cock-gobbling, cum-gargling sex slave."

"I never used those words," he seethed. "And I never so much as thought the sentiments behind them."

"You're right," she soothed. "But you did frequently ask if I needed a refreshing beverage after I failed to completely clean off my chin after giving him his mid-afternoon blowjob, or an aspirin when I was walking funny after he hand-waved my suggestion that I take a moment to find some lube before he drilled me in the ass."

"God damn, woman," he groaned. "Were you always this crass?"

"Of course. You just never noticed because you were always slobbering over my tits. Besides, available evidence would suggest that you rather enjoyed my, as you put it, crassness."

"How so?"

"Who do you think suggested to your, I'm not sure what to call them, girlfriends? Lovers? Wives? Regardless, do you honestly think they just gave you ten lifetimes worth of spank bank material based only on their imagination? I'm not putting them down, but they come from a time when sex is, first and foremost, about making little humans. The very concept that women can, and should, enjoy sex is quite underdeveloped in their culture. And the concept of enhancing the experience via senses other than touch is almost unheard of here. A threesome to them is like the most boring porn ever. You have sex with one of them. Then, if the other one is lucky, you get it up again and get her off."

"So you decided to give them a little coaching," George groaned in sudden realization.

"You can thank me later."

"I'm not sure I should. I hate the feeling that they acted against their true nature because you pressured them into things they're uncomfortable with."

"Settle down, buddy. Lulu came to me. She wanted to know the kinds of things lovers from our time did together. Obviously, I told her. What kind of friend would I be otherwise?"

"So, you two are friends now?"

"Of course," Rachel enthused. "Lulu is the best. I was in a village a few days ago and a young dumbass tried to cop a feel when my attention was elsewhere. Lulu knocked his ass out. Then she stared down the rest of them and dared them to make a move. She wasn't even wearing her armor. She just had that stave she carries and a bad-ass attitude."

"You're sure you didn't pressure her into anything she'll secretly resent me for?"

Rachel smiled warmly and said, "Absolutely. I really just gave her two pieces of advice. The first was about what visual creatures twenty-first century men tend to be. The second was how your brains completely break when their lover is turned on by cum. And, before you go off half-cocked again, I made sure she wasn't turned off by blowjobs before I mentioned the second one."

"That's it?"

"Basically. I also suggested some positions, but that's no big deal."

"Come on," he complained. "Can you not meddle in my love life? How would you feel if I pulled aside every prospective fella you lured to your room and told him that you hated vaginal sex and that your biggest turn-on was being choked during sex?"

"I mean, the second part would be pretty awesome. But that's hardly analogous because I feel certain you fucking loved everything I suggested to Lulu."

"That's not the point," he hissed. "What I like, or love, is irrelevant. I won't stand for them doing something they're uncomfortable with."

"Again," she huffed. "Lighten up. This is hardly a casual roll in the hay for any of you. You know them, George. Do you honestly think either of them was uncomfortable, or put off, or anything else other than insanely turned on?"

He sighed and said, "I guess not."

"Then just enjoy it. Like I said, you can thank me later. Now, if you don't mind, I believe there's one of those gentlemen in my bed who's about experience one of life's great conundrums: is it still preferable to wake up to a blow job if you're also waking up to a massive dildo in your ass?"

"Christ woman. Have a little compassion."

"I do," she replied playfully. "That's why I stick their dick in my mouth first." She stood before adding, "Have fun, and let me know if you want me to give your lovers any more lessons."

"Don't count on it," he muttered as she sauntered away.

"Good morning, George," Zelda said softly as he resumed his seat.

"I'm suddenly far less certain of that than I was an hour ago."

"Let not yourself be troubled. I monitored Rachel's conversation with Lulu, and I can confirm that she made no attempt to convince either of your lovers to act against their nature. She merely provided context as to your, and incidentally her, background."

"I have no choice but to believe you."

"Trust me when I tell you that the possibility that your lovers were, shall we say, encouraged... to act unusually is amongst the least of your problems."

"That sounds ominous."

"Perhaps. There is a war party of four hundred, plus or minus sixty-four, warriors headed this direction from the north west. Their vector appears to be similar to the last group of attackers."

"What!" he exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. "How long have you known about this?"

"Since about five minutes ago when the sun came up. But you have criticized me in the past for beginning so many of our conversations with dire warnings. I am thus working on what I believe you call, 'small talk'."

"It is one of the great ironies of life that I'm far more likely to die of frustration with you than I am through other means, considering your, as you call it, prime directive."

"I would never allow that to happen, George," she replied somberly.

"I guess we'll need to deal with this invading horde before you can promise that. How long until they arrive?"

"Ten days. My ability to spot them has improved since our last encounter."

"All right. Let's put the word to the street, proverbially at least. We'll have both Chief and Wendy go pick up the lead war captain from each allied tribe and meet with them tomorrow at noon to discuss strategy. Let's hope we can gather a large enough force that the invaders beg to join us rather than attacking."

"Strictly speaking, anything is possible," Zelda muttered as George went below to wake the compound's residents.

***

Thirty-one hours later, George stood before the assembled war captains trembling in scarcely concealed rage. He stared them down for several uncomfortable moments before finally saying, "None of you will honor your commitments?"

"We never swore to fight for you, White Devil," Oukonunaka declared confidently. "We merely agreed to allow you to enter our domain without killing you on the spot."

George suppressed a groan of frustration as he silently imagined several creative ways to relieve his troublesome rival of the burden of life. Oukonunaka had spent the entire gathering of war chiefs ardently arguing against aid of any kind. George still could not come to grips with the fact that his announcement of the smaller man's abject failure in battle against what he suspected was the same enemy seemed to be completely irrelevant to the assembled group.

The thought that perhaps the undisguised self-preservation on display here was a healthier way to go through life than the toxic masculinity that would have left the group with no choice but to cheerfully volunteer to die rather than be seen as a coward did little to comfort the suddenly very exposed foreigner.

At length, he spat, "You know what? Fuck off." The group looked nervously between themselves. A few even glanced between the four War Dogs which sat motionless behind George. He added, "I mean it. Go home. I don't need your worthless asses. But I promise you this, your decisions will not be forgotten. By anyone."

Without another word, he stalked from the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, he hissed, "I know you're going to be busy over the next week, Zelda. But I need a small favor if you're up to it."

"You doubt my abilities?"

"Never," he replied with a wry smile. "I need what passes for a jumbotron on both sides of both airships."

"Ok," she said slowly. "Whatever for?"

"We're going to drop all those dickheads off, just as we promised. But, when we do, we'll be playing the highlights of that shitshow. Not a damn one of them is going to be able to spin this as anything other than what it was when they return home."

"You hope to change their minds in this way?"

"I don't think it's particularly likely, if I'm being honest. But I can't imagine this is the last time we're going to be invaded. And I want to make it as likely as possible that we'll get enough help when the encroaching war party numbers in the thousands, rather than the hundreds."

"I agree with my mate," Jariana, who had caught up several moments earlier, said softly.

"What, then, do you intend to do about the attacking force?" Lulu asked. "Please tell me you will not again wait until they attack to respond."

"Why not?" he joked. "Seemed to work out fine last time."

"You must not joke about such things," she replied sorrowfully. "I nearly lost you."

"I know, honey," he replied sincerely. "I'm sorry."

"All the more reason I should go feed that shit-heel Oukonunaka's balls to him in front of that groups of spineless weaklings. You nearly died protecting him, and this is how he repays you?"

"He has a keenly developed sense of self interest."

"He has a keen desire for me to have an accident next time I am instructing he and his warriors in the use of the muskets."

"Back to the question at issue," interjected Jariana. "We must have a strategy for dealing with this force if none of your so-called allies intend to offer assistance."

"How many War Dogs do we have?" George asked.

"Forty-three," Zelda answered immediately. "That is across all seven iterations. All exceed ninety-three percent effectiveness."

"Wow," he replied in amazement. "I had no idea it was so many."

"I take all of your safety very seriously," the AI replied with quiet intensity. "I also have seventeen drone carriers and six-hundred and twelve Yellow Jackets. Plus, the three rovers and two dirigibles."

"How many more War Dogs could you make before the attack? Related question, do you have anything else on deck for implementation which could be more helpful than more War Dogs?"

"I began work on Jariana's suit this morning. It will be complete in ninety-one minutes. I would suggest that the number of War Dogs would be sufficient for this size force, even using conventional warfare. After all, the enemy only enjoys a ten-to-one advantage."

"Remarkable that the odds are so stacked against them," George teased.

"A fully charged War Dog in close combat can neutralize thirty-two warriors before it is projected to either run out of power or become disabled. The enemy, on the other hand, is projected to need as many as seventeen warriors to even have a chance of disabling a single War Dog. And that assumes they somehow manage to render it incapable of moving. So, in truth, the advantage is rather strongly in your favor. What you truly need is the ability to project force."

"I hardly think an aircraft carrier is in the cards here," George chided.

"Indeed, but the principle holds, nonetheless. Five more rovers and another dirigible would be possible in the time frame allotted. This would allow you to deliver the majority of your force to the battlefield fully charged."

"Why bother with the War Dogs at all?" George asked suddenly. "You said we had an numerical advantage already with the Yellow Jackets. We could just take them all out while they're still over the horizon. Hell, we wouldn't even have to kill them."

"What then, my friend?" Zelda asked softly. "Would you have me build a prison? Or, worse, would you just allow them to return home?"

"It is as I said before, beloved," Lulu interjected. "They know nothing but destruction. If they are headed this way, there are only two possibilities. Either they return with the spoils they seek, or they die."

"And, if they are to die," Jariana added. "Why not make their deaths mean something? If you use the tiny flying death-givers to eliminate them, all you gain is the removal of a threat."

"But," Lulu added, picking up intuitively on her lover's line of reasoning, "if you instead deploy the War Dogs and use the display magic you were discussing with Zelda..."

Rachel, who had been calmly watching the exchange along with the rest of her shipmates, excitedly cut in, "We could fly the Serenity to the home of these assholes and show them the true meaning of 'fuck around and find out'. These dickheads won't stop until they're dead, or they're convinced right down to their bones that the low country is off-fucking-limits for them. Now and forever."

"She has a point, lover," Jariana agreed. "I know you abhor bloodshed. It is part of what makes you a good man. But they were the ones that chose violence. All that remains is to decide how many must die. Perhaps your decision today can save wiping their entire civilization from the face of the earth tomorrow."

Thirty-One

"That's the last of them," Rachel observed as an angry chief stalked into the compound.

"Good job," George replied sincerely.

"Thank Zelda, she's the one who came up with the Oscar-worthy video of their storm shelters collapsing, as though by magic."

"Perhaps," George allowed. "But it was your idea to scare the shit out of them by implying that withdrawing our protection could include all we'd given them."

"It just pissed me off. They're fine taking things from you that are literally priceless, by their way of thinking. But the moment you ask them to band together for the common defense, they tell you to fuck off. Not your defense, mind you. Everyone's defense."

"The very idea of cooperating is very foreign to these people."

"Hence all the pawning off of favored daughters."

"Exactly. It would never occur to them to come up with something more civilized, not to mention sustainable. I just hope this is the beginning of an inkling of civilization."

They followed the last chief into the largest building in the compound. As they walked, Zelda said, "Thank you, by the way. Both of you."

"Thank you," George replied warmly. "You're incredible."

As he reached his destination, he looked around briefly. Seated along the wall were both Lulu and Jariana. He spared a moment to throw them each a kiss, which they accepted happily. Part of him wanted nothing more than to cross the room and take them into his arms. And it was more than their unparalleled beauty that drew him to them, it was also the love he saw in their eyes whenever they graced him with their smiles. Seated beside them were Kendra, Wendy and Chief, the latter of whom had apparently talked Zelda into fashioning a bandolier worthy of a gigantic, not to mention hirsute, copilot. Rachel peeled off to stand beside her shipmates, snuggling up against Chief and whispering something in his ear that caused the Guyanese seaman to groan and shake his head.

"Thank you all for coming," George announced regally as he strode to the dais of their largest meeting room.

"What choice did we have?" Oukonunaka retorted angrily.

"All alliances require that both parties contribute," George snapped. His eyes found the chief of Jariana's village as he added, "In the past, that contribution sometimes led you to commit sins against nature, like sentencing your children to a life of slavery." George held the man's gaze until the latter finally looked away in shame. "All I asked is that you join me so that we may together watch the progress of the battle."

"You speak of yourself like you are without fault," Oukonunaka spat. "Yet you force us to join you if your foolishly opulent palace, which will surely be the target of our... your enemy's attention. You force us to join you in death, White Devil."

George tried, not without effort, to ignore the description of a compound with a half dozen structures built from raw timber as opulent. Instead, he focused his attention on another comment from his nemesis. "Your enemy. All of you. Need I remind you that, not three moons ago, I saved you personally from these same invaders."

"But they returned in force because of you!"

"Because I beat them?" George scoffed. "Well then, I guess we'll just have to all live with the fact that I alone have soundly defeated this threat."

"But last time they had a tenth the numbers threatening us today," a chief from the north complained. "And many of the warriors who faced them were killed. You yourself were grievously wounded. We have no choice but to flee."

"Wrong. You could band together and have twice the warriors these assholes have brought to our doorstep. But you refuse to band together in some ignorant belief that you'll be left alone if only you don't make a nuisance of yourself. How long have you lived under the fear that this year would be the year your people are wiped out?" None answered him, so he continued, "Well, my friends. Today marks the beginning of the end. I aim to eradicate this threat permanently. All I ask in return is your assurance that you will work together the next time we are threatened."

He paused for effect before continuing, "Because the next threat you will face is not a few hundred animals from the hills. It will be men from across the sea. Men with guns and training. And they will come by the tens of thousands. Your only hope is to stop trying to one-up each other and truly join together."

"Talk is cheap, White Devil," Oukonunaka sneered.

"Shut up, boy," the chief who had traveled the furthest for the meeting said so softly that George only made out his words thanks to Zelda, but there was no hiding the menace in his voice, or the steel in his glare. "No one disputes that this foreigner saved not only you, but your entire people. You shame yourself and your ancestors with your childish behavior. If you have nothing to add to the talk of men, then return to your village and have them send someone actually fit to lead."

Oukonunaka's face turned beet red, but he made no move to challenge his accuser. George again gave thanks to the very diverse life experience he had enjoyed up until that point as it allowed him to look at the objectively unassuming mid-thirties chief wearing a blue tunic along with buckskin leggings and breechcloth with only a crude knife at his hip and know at once that the man was instant death with every possible weapon, or none at all. Oukonunaka apparently reached the same conclusion because he slumped silently into his chair.

The chief turned to George and said, "Assuming we agree to your terms, how do you intend to defeat this threat?"

"The answer to that question can be found right here," George replied before gesturing to the wall behind him with flourish.

The crowd gasped as the wall revealed itself as a video monitor which would rival the television found in the living room of any upper-class family. The monitor showed six feeds simultaneously. Two were from each of the dirigibles which were orbiting several thousand meters above the advancing force. Two more were from rovers rumbling toward the advancing column of men from both sides. The last two were from drone carriers which were now close enough that the enemy was pointing at them questioningly.

"H-minus sixty seconds," Zelda's voice announced.

George sighed and headed slowly toward the back of the room. The assembled natives did not notice his departure, so enraptured were they by the images on the screen, but Lulu and Jariana met him at the door. They wordlessly wrapped their arms around him as he exited the room. Just as the door was closing, Zelda's countdown reached thirty seconds and a gasp arose from the crowd as the first War Dogs sprang from the dirigibles.

***

George returned to the compound several hours later after taking a long walk in the company of several of Zelda's minders. He found great difficulty reconciling the certainty that his actions had been both justified and necessary with the undeniable reality that he was responsible for hundreds of deaths. As a youth, he had shared some of his father's obsession with history, specifically World War Two. He had always taken it as an article of faith that the legendary leaders of that conflict were great men and military geniuses. But having gotten a taste of such weighty decisions, he found himself wondering just how many of the stories of either mental instability or outright delusions of grandeur amongst such men were far more accurate than he had been led to believe.

As he strolled through the main entrance, he spotted Lulu and Jariana speaking with a woman he had noticed upon her arrival that morning. He knew she was from Jariana's home tribe. She stood out because she was the only woman in attendance, other than those who lived at the compound. His instructions to each of the tribes with whom he was aligned was that the chief's presence was required, and that he could bring along one additional advisor. For most of the tribes, this had meant a warrior. Whether this person was present because of their prowess with battle planning or merely as a bodyguard was something George chose not to contemplate.

George walked over to his lovers and stood a respectful distance away as they chatted amiably. They quickly noticed his presence and beckoned him to come closer.

Jariana smiled warmly and said, "I'm so glad you returned in time, my love. I wanted you to meet my very good friend, Talisa."

He turned to the newcomer and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

He resisted the urge to extend his hand since the gesture was completely foreign to this continent, but he immediately missed the formality of the typically meaningless routine because it left him standing before her awkwardly.

Talisa said, "This is him?" in a playful, almost teasing, tone before she gave him a lengthy visual inspection. Just as the awkwardness threatened to reach levels where George would have quietly asked Zelda to set off an explosion somewhere as a distraction, Talisa said, "I'm impressed." She then approached him quickly and, after a sharp tug on the front of his shirt, kissed him hard on the lips. There was no passion, or even friendliness, to the act. He felt it was more akin to a test; one which he had no way of knowing if he passed. She released him but made no move to retreat, studying him carefully.

For want of a better option, he returned her inspection in full measure. She was dressed quite unusually, eschewing the typical full-coverage buckskin dress in favor of a breechcloth which left her legs bare save knee-high moccasins. Above her waist, she wore what George could only label a crop top. It was a gaudily adorned top which left her arms and belly bare and tied at the back. Her midnight black hair also differed from nearly every other native woman he had seen. It was what he could best describe as a roughly chopped pixie-cut that gave her an appearance not unlike Trinity from one of George's favorite movies.

The unusual woman's hair was just the start of what drew his attention. Her appearance in general was unlike anything he had seen in this age. Lulu was a curvy, yet extraordinarily athletic, warrior whose typical fierce expression only relaxed amongst those she favored most. Jariana had the body and face of a super model and the brain of a prize-winning scientist with a reserved, yet loving, nature. Talisa, by way of comparison, had a body whose only description in George's mind held no meaning in this time. She was, without possibility of doubt, a sexpot. Like his lovers, she was tall compared to her people standing somewhere between Lulu and Jariana's height. Her skin tone also fell somewhere between the two women giving her a Latin appearance. In fact, he realized as he studied her, she reminded his rather sharply of Sophia Vergara, a woman who his father not-so-secretly lusted after in his youth. She had that same breathtaking voluptuousness to go with the harder to define quality which left him with little doubt as to the fact that she knew the effect she had on men, and she reveled in it.

She noticed his eyes helplessly glued to her tantalizing displayed cleavage and quirked an eyebrow questioningly. In response, he fell back upon the small talk which his ancestors had been trying, and failing, to master for centuries. "So... how do you know Jariana?"

"I am her teacher in the ways of our Goddess."

"That sounds... intriguing. I was under the impression your people do not believe in a higher power, instead choosing to believe in the spiritualism of being at one with nature."

She smiled and said, "That is true for many of my kinsmen, but there are those of us who have discovered a higher truth. Our Goddess is at one the world she crafted for us and wishes us to live in it and be happy."

"And what price does your Goddess extract in return for this bountiful gift?"

"Only that we honor her, and the land, and one another."

"And if you refuse?"

"One cannot refuse our Goddess," she replied confidently. "The law of three-fold return applies to us all equally. She rewards those whom she favors and withdraws her protection from the rest."

"Remarkable," George said softly.

"You sound as if you doubt her."

He shook his head and said, "That's not what I meant at all. It's just that I've heard of such beliefs before, but in another time and place. I wasn't aware the old beliefs, as I've heard them called, existed here."

"One cannot deny the truth," she replied confidently.

"Indeed." George noticed movement out of the corner of his vision and looked over to see the various chiefs and war captains queuing up to make their way onto the dirigibles for their return journeys. He turned back and said, "Would you consider staying for dinner? We can arrange for your return whenever you wish."

She smiled warmly before offering both Lulu and Jariana a quick glance. She said, "I would be delighted."

Thirty-Two

Just as the foursome finished up an eminently enjoyable dinner, Zelda spoke into George's earpiece in a tone which he had learned meant that she was speaking to him alone, "Did you enjoy the risotto?"

He nodded curtly in an attempt to prevent his guests from picking up on his sidebar conversation.

"And the lava cake," Zelda pressed. "Did I get the interior temperature right this time?"

He was again limited to nodding and he found himself very much wishing she would get to the point. This feeling was made all the more urgent based on his growing understanding of his silicon-based friend. She had been slowly growing her ability to just speak, rather than conveying or seeking information. He had found, however, that, more often than not, when she began a conversation with such pleasantries that she was merely marking time until she decided enough chit-chat had taken place to permit her to, as he would put it, get to the point.

The 'getting to the point' was interrupted, however, as Talisa spoke up. "Who are you talking to?"

He glanced up furtively to find her gaze boring into him with a disquieting intensity. He stammered, "I didn't say anything."

"But you are having a conversation with someone I cannot see, are you not?"

He nodded in defeat and said, "Yes. Zelda honey, please introduce yourself."

"Good evening, Ms. Talisa," Zelda said aloud. "I look forward to you being fitted with an earpiece so we can communicate directly."

Talisa's gaze never left George as she sat as though in deep thought. At length, she said, "I see. Zelda, are you born of woman?"

"I am not," the AI answered formally.

George interjected firmly, "She is, however, our very dear friend."

Talisa looked to Jariana, who said, "It is true. I do not understand George's magic in this matter, but that does not change the fact that Zelda is one of my very best friends."

"And we would kill anyone who said otherwise," Lulu added grimly.

"I meant no offense," Talisa replied contritely. "I was merely trying to understand why she felt so... distant."

"Well," George said carefully. "She is a computer. The smartest one in history. She's also about fifty meters away from where we're sitting."

"Fascinating," Talisa retorted congenially before looking up and saying, "I regret my implication, Zelda. I am pleased to meet you. I look forward to speaking with you at length."

"As do I," Zelda replied warmly. "I regret, however, that I had reason for interrupting your meal. George, new information has come to light which I feel demands your immediate attention."

George looked around the table and received nods from Lulu and Jariana. He then looked to Talisa who stared back at him questioningly for several moments before saying, "What is it?"

"You are our guest, dear lady. I cannot interrupt our evening without your permission."

"You would delay a report on potentially highly impactful information, on a day when you already commanded your forces to a massive victory against one of this region's greatest historical enemies, merely because I wished it?"

"It is how things should be done," George replied with a shrug.

She smiled uncertainly, notably the first time he had seen her be anything other than supremely confident, and said, "I am honored. But, please, carry on."

He nodded and said, "As you wish. Would you prefer to be taken home? Or perhaps stay here with us?"

She grinned wolfishly and said, "I believe your bed is already quite full."

"We would never refuse you," Jariana blurted out quickly.

"I actually meant here in the house," George stammered. "We have plenty of beds."

"Unless you wish me to leave, I would love to also know the nature of this threat."

George nodded and said to the ceiling, "Alright, honey. What's next up on the docket of things that will almost certainly kill us all?"

"I never actually said it was a threat," Zelda replied reasonably. "I just said it deserved your attention."

The room's largest wall suddenly stopped being a mere wall as an image at least a meter square appeared on it. George had the sensation of being back in his home time and using a mapping app as a view of the eastern seaboard of what he still thought of as North America quickly zoomed in on the southern part of what would now almost certainly never be called Florida. The land mass quickly disappeared to the screen's left side as the image continued to zoom in. Eventually, he spotted a handful of dots amongst the endless blue of the Atlantic.

George stared at the wall for a moment before saying, "I give. What are we looking at?"

"A fleet, almost certainly from one of the countries on the Iberian Peninsula, although it is not out of the realm of possibility that it is Italian. They are headed roughly in the direction of Cape Canaveral, having made what appears to be a concerted effort to avoid the Caribbean islands."

"How long have you been tracking them?"

"Nine days. And, before you ask, this is the fifth such fleet I have tracked crossing from Europe. We always knew this was inevitable, George."

"But they've apparently had enough of having their nose bloodied in the islands and are keen to find out if the mainland is any better."

"I'm not sure their strategy really extends that far. After all, the number of individuals in the world who are both aware of the Americas and not currently residing there is very likely quite small. And I conjecture most of them are those robust tribes who mysteriously figured out how to travel from the west coast of South America to the islands several thousand meters distant in the Pacific. The odds suggest this group of Europeans is navigating blindly.

"Additionally, all available information suggests that previous expeditions were wiped out completely. Meaning there would be no reason for subsequent voyages to avoid making the same mistakes. The reason I brought this to your attention is because the odds of them making landfall near a population of natives who have yet to be prepared to defeat them is in excess of ninety-seven percent."

"Fuck," George muttered. "How could we have been so stupid?"

"Mr. Horner's models suggested your sphere of influence would include the entire peninsula at this point. I believe he chose to land you this far north so as to avoid what he referred to as the miserable Florida summers."

"Right generous of him," George allowed. "But that means we've got thousands of people who will be completely helpless when those European assholes come ashore."

"Well... not totally," Zelda countered.

"Zelda," he chided. "What aren't you telling me?"

"I have not lied to you, George. It is, in fact, impossible for me to do so."

"Yet you've somehow become a master at withholding critical information. I'm not saying you're lying by omission, just that you're really fucking close." He cringed and glanced over at Talisa before adding, "Sorry."

"For what?" she replied jovially.

"George believes some language should not be used when in the presence of a lady," Jariana provided.

"Unless he's making love to the lady in question," Lulu added.

"Indeed," Jariana agreed with a smile. "In those cases, all language is both allowed and encouraged."

"Fascinating," Talisa enthused. She turned back to George and added, "Please don't censor yourself on my behalf. My Goddess will not be offended."

"Anyway," George drawled. "Tell us the rest, Zelda."

"One month ago, after I built the first dirigible and we decided to start building rovers, I built an additional modified rover. It had no passenger space and was outfitted with massive energy storage capacity and deployable solar panels. I sent it, along with two drone carriers and several hundred Yellow Jackets south. Whenever it found a village, it would come to a halt and wait for night to fall. I would then send in the drones and inoculate the population."

"Why wait for nightfall?"

"Because of how slowly light travels," she replied simply. "That far away, I have to utilize the satellites to control the drones. The delay may seem minimal, but I assure you that the better part of a second is quite a long time when controlling hundreds of drones which are trying to avoid revealing themselves. Doing it at night while the people are sleeping makes that delay less troublesome."

"If you say so," George allowed. "Good thinking, by the way. How much of the populace have you inoculated?"

"I estimate less than ten percent."

"Fuck," he grunted. "So, we're still screwed."

Zelda pressed on, "Much of the population actually lives along the gulf coast or further to the north. The area in the southeast is nearly uninhabitable thanks to endless swamps and stifling heat. I focused on the east coast under the assumption that it would be where the invaders landed first. Your original point, however, is not without merit. These people will, for the most part, not be eradicated by the diseases the Europeans carry, but they are massively outmatched militarily."

"Damn. How long until they arrive?"

"A few days at most."

"How long until we could get there in the Tydirium?"

"Please hold," Zelda replied. She was then silent for nearly four whole seconds before saying, "Eleven days. This assumes nine days to refit the ship and assemble a crew."

"Ok. Let's get started."

***

George soon discovered that nearly all of the time Zelda had estimated for the refit of the Tydirium had nothing to do with adding items which would allow the erstwhile shuttle to engage in battle with ships armed with potentially both canons and small arms. Those tasks were also attended to by scavenging flechette launchers, mortars and drones from the rovers. Zelda's task, however, was building a hyper-sophisticated computer which could control both the Tydirium and the drones in her absence. Even in his own time, the device she constructed would have easily bested any computer system available commercially or militarily. It even included massive capacity for independent decision making using incomplete data. Its only drawback, in his eyes, was that it fell far, far short of Zelda's abilities.

George had spent his time while waiting to embark learning the control system Zelda devised to assist her silicon-based idiot child. It was not unlike he was playing a massively complicated video game, save for the undeniable fact that lives would certainly be lost: either amongst their enemies or on his side if he failed.

There were several surprising additions to their crew, aside from Wendy and Chief who immediately insisted on going. Half his complement of warriors came from Lulu's former tribe. It appeared that Oukonunaka's public shaming at the council of chieftains had lit a fire among his people to more properly demonstrate their appreciation for George's efforts.

The final, and most surprising, member of the crew was Talisa. She had stayed with them since their first dinner together and had quickly become a fixture in their lives. Lulu and Jariana had arranged for a room to be made available to her in George's house and she joined them more often than not for meals. He frequently found her during the day talking animatedly with members of various native tribes who were staying at the compound to receive weapons training, or just wandering along the riverside lost in thought.

Jariana, and especially Lulu, had insisted on joining the expedition, but George had succeeded in convincing them that they needed to remain behind to keep the work of expanding their list of allies and supporting the ones they already had. He had insisted, he hoped truthfully, that they would be in no danger. After all, he had argued, how hard could it be to defeat a handful of ships that he outclassed by a half-dozen centuries.

Thirty-Three

"Are you sure you're doing ok?" George asked cautiously as he approached Talisa who was standing along the forward railing of the Tydirium as it churned south through one to two meters seas.

She turned to smile warmly at him and replied, "I am doing quite well, George. My people are no strangers to the sea."

"Sure," he allowed. "But I get the impression that being out of sight of land on a stormy day falls more in the realm of a potential calamity rather than an enjoyable afternoon."

"Perhaps. But out boats are not nearly so large as yours."

She finished speaking with a suggestive wink which went straight to his trousers. It was something which, despite the fact she did so with incredible frequency, he was still unsure if she was doing it intentionally. He had hoped that, with her agreeing to wear an earpiece, such issues would disappear as their communication improved. But, if anything, it had only grown more frequent.

She continued, "The connection I feel with my Goddess here is much more profound than on land. I have no doubt you can feel it as well."

He nodded and said, "I have always felt that the sea grants me serenity unlike nearly any other place. Especially when you pair it with things like a sunrise or sunset."

"Or a full moon."

"Exactly. It's as if there is something fundamentally elemental about the combination of the sea and the celestial."

"Not as if, dear man. That mixture is precisely what makes it so profound. With one notable exception, there is no way for men to get closer to my Goddess."

"And that exception would be?"

She smiled teasingly at him and said, "Making love, of course."

"I see."

"You do not enjoy making love?"

"Of course I do. I'm just not sure what to make of you."

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked playfully.

He glared at her and said, "I think you know exactly what I mean. Every conversation we've ever had has been riding the line between flirty and friendly."

"It's unfortunate you found our interactions unpleasant. I found I rather enjoyed them."

"That's not it at all," he objected strenuously. "But that doesn't mean I have any idea what's going on. It sometimes feels like you're keeping me on my toes as more of a source of personal entertainment than anything else."

"Would you deny me that small measure of enjoyment?"

"No," he answered with a weary sigh.

"After all," she continued, her smile growing even wider. "You already have two such beautiful mates you certainly could never spare any affection for anyone else. Especially an old crone like me."

"Forgive me for impugning your character, but you're out of your fucking mind."

He saw anger flash across her features as she said, "Oh, really?"

"You're stunning, Talisa. Quite possibly the sexiest woman I've ever seen. And, before you dismiss me, remember I came from a world with cities boasting populations in the tens of millions. Not to mention widely available entertainment with the stated purpose of featuring some of the world's most beautiful people. You genuinely put them to shame."

"But what of your mates?"

"They're obviously both beautiful; and sexy. And I don't just say that because of how I feel about them. I just couldn't allow you to believe that I thought you were anything less than the incredibly gorgeous woman that you are."

"That is not what I meant," she replied, her anger replaced by a combination of coquettishness and vulnerability.

"You mean about Lulu and Jariana?" he responded softly. She nodded, so he continued, "They pulled me aside before we left. I told them they were insane for ever thinking like this, but they approve of you in the strongest possible terms. That obviously includes Jariana, considering that I get the strong impression you and her enjoyed an intimate relationship in the past." He got another nod in reply. "And Lulu concurs wholeheartedly. I think she really digs your spirit, not to mention your strenuous rejection of the patriarchy. As do I."

Talisa regarded him for several moments before finally saying, "I see."

George opened his mouth to reply, but we interrupted by Wendy's voice in his ear calling out, "Radar contact; one-six-four."

He spared an apologetic glance in Talisa's direction, who smiled and gestured agreeably toward the pilothouse. George extended his hand, which she took happily, and led her inside.

"Looks like we caught up to them just as they're pulling back to sea," Wendy informed them as they entered the blissfully conditioned air of the pilothouse. "I've got five. Check that. Seven contacts. Fourteen kilometers off the starboard bow and headed generally north by northwest. They've got the wind at their backs and they're in the gulf stream so they're making about six knots."

Chief entered the pilothouse, not without effort thanks to his massive frame, and said, "This storm is going to be a right proper bastard."

George glanced at the monitor showing the weather radar which had a large red splotch to their east. He said, "How long?"

"Not more than an hour."

"How's that going to impact us?"

"This tub is a pig," Wendy replied. "We've got plenty of power, hence our twenty-two-knot headway, but she's not really built to handle the high seas."

"Great," George grunted. "Let's just aim to dispatch these assholes as quickly as possible and then we can find a harbor to wait out the storm."

"Aye, aye," Wendy and Chief replied in unison.

George turned to Talisa and said, "I hope you'll join me in the command center. It might not be safe on the upper deck."

"Of course," she replied warmly before following him below decks.

***

George was relieved for Talisa's ignorance of twenty-first century gaming because it meant she had no basis for mocking the very console-styled controller which he held. He also had a half-dozen touch screens arrayed in a semi-circle before him which showed the view from each of their gun turrets.

On several of the screens, he could see the distant view of several notably quite small ships. He had been expecting vessels such as were commonly found in movies about pirates. What he found instead were craft which would be dwarfed by even the medium size yachts one would expect to find in the harbor of Monaco. Each had a single main mast and had between four and seven sails in evidence.

Wendy turned the Tydirium toward the lead ship and he could feel the thrum of the impellers through the hull of the ship as they increased to flank speed. He clicked through his screens, setting the flechette launchers for maximum throughput so that they would be indistinguishable from a laser.

With a closing speed of nearly thirty knots, the Tydirium was on top of their prey in no time. George carefully set the aim on the launchers to strafe the waterline on ships which would pass on either side of them in hopes of sinking them quickly. As they passed between the first two sailing vessels, his screen quickly became obstructed by plumes of smoke. Outside, he could hear the boom of the cannons. Seconds later, he felt the ship shudder with the impact of the baseball sized projectiles. George kept his finger on the buttons which were sending tens of thousands of tiny rounds into the hulls of their enemies.

As the enemy ships passed from the view of his cameras, he waited for the ship to come about in case another strafing run was necessary. After several moments, he said, "How are things looking up there?"

His blood turned to ice in his veins when he got no reply. He reached for the control of the camera mounted above the radar dome and swung it around. The sight gutted him and ripped a gasp from his throat. In the distance, he could see the enemy ships coming about. None of them appeared worse for wear despite the broadsides he had delivered. Far more worryingly, the foreground contained the sight of the pilothouse consumed in flames.

"Chief! Wendy!" George shouted into his headset, but he heard nothing but static in reply.

He leapt from his chair to head topside to help them, but Talisa stepped in front of him confidently. "Where are you going?"

"I have to help them!"

"Your death cannot save them, George," she replied with sad conviction. "You must defeat the enemy or more could suffer their fate."

She stabbed a finger at the approaching vessels for emphasis.

He stared helplessly at the screen and said, "I don't understand."

"Talisa is right, George," Zelda voice crackled in his headset. "Chief and Wendy's earpieces are still functional, but they indicate their hearts have stopped. You cannot save them."

"How could this have happened?"

"It would seem that we were overly optimistic when projecting the hull integrity of the ships. The flechette launchers likely could sink them in time, but I suggest a new strategy."

"Like what?" he snarled.

"Use them for what they were designed for. Target the men."

He whirled back to his console and growled, "Gladly." He clicked a few buttons to allow him to take over navigational controls from his workstation and quickly came about to face the oncoming threat. He adjusted the aim of the launchers before turning to Talisa. "Can you help me?"

"I will try," she replied without hesitation.

"The launchers are already aimed at the right elevation. I just need you to control these four." He pointed to the appropriate screens. "Hold down the fire button when the decks come into view."

She nodded grimly and moved to stand beside him before saying, "What are you going to do?"

He ignored her for a moment and said, "Zelda, honey. I need you to calculate launch vector for a War Dog to land it on the deck of the lead ship. As soon as possible."

"But I cannot effectively control them from here," she interjected.

"Don't worry about it," George growled. "I've got this."

Zelda replied, "Program running. Launch in nine seconds."

They soon felt the ship shudder as the drone was ejected at over five hundred kilometers per hour. George turned to his main screen to see the lead vessel speeding toward him. The screen tilted wildly as the drone chute deployed to arrest its forward progress and give it a chance to unfurl its death-dealing weaponry. The crew of the ship pointed skyward fearfully just before the War Dog slammed into the deck.

George grabbed the controller and rushed toward the bridge. Several men tried to interdict his progress, but their fate quickly dimmed the fighting spirit of their comrades. Under George's direction, the War Dog leapt over the three-meter railing and onto the bridge. Ignoring the terrified youth at the wheel, he focused on the dirty middle-aged man beside him gesticulating wildly. A flick of the controls sent the man's head flying into the cool waters of the Atlantic before the drone whirled to face the encroaching soldiers. George waded into the group anxiously, flicking the controller's buttons wildly and grinning in satisfaction as the crew was mowed down.

Fourteen seconds later, the drone stood motionless in the midst of a mound of viscera. George looked to the other screens to find the last ships passing behind them. He spun the main camera around to spot the ships continuing on the previous heading rather than turning to reengage.

He turned to find Talisa looking pale, but resolute. He nodded his thanks before turning the Tydirium once more and heading toward the lead enemy ship to collect the War Dog. This done, he looked up and said, "Report."

"I estimate five of the seven vessels have lost more than half their crews," Zelda replied calmly.

"How do we sink them?"

Zelda paused almost imperceptibly before saying, "I do not know. You have no explosives on board, and nothing from which to make them. Theoretically the flechette launchers should do the job with sustained fire in a single spot."

"What about the launchers we use for the War Dogs? What's their max muzzle velocity?"

"Quite low compared to the enemy's cannons. The War Dogs are very heavy."

"Yes," he snarled. "But what if we loaded them with something else?"

Thirty-Four

"You must stop this, my friend," Talisa whispered softly after waking to find George once again sullenly seated in the charred remains of the pilothouse as they slowly made their way northward.

"Stop what?" he replied morosely.

"Blaming yourself."

"Why should I stop? I got them killed, Talisa. I was vain; and arrogant; and foolish. And I'm responsible."

"You heard what Zelda said. There was no reason to believe they would be in danger. The shot was one in... I forget the number she said."

"Four point nine billion," Zelda replied quietly. "The shot ruptured one of the battery packs and it caught fire. That, in turn, uncovered the fact that the Tydirium's passive fire suppression systems are in fact active systems requiring control from the master control system. Which was absent because I am no longer part of the ship." She paused before lowering her voice and saying, "Please George. You must not blame yourself for this. It was entirely my fault. I should have..."

"No," he cut her off shortly. "It was madness for me to expect you to foresee every possible eventuality. It wasn't your fault for not predicting this outcome and designing around it. It was mine for being so confidently cavalier about the battle that I got our friends killed."

Talisa sighed before saying, "We all die, my friend. Some in our beds, some in the womb, and some in battle. Your friends knew the risk, but they fought anyway because they believed in your mission. You can, and should, mourn their deaths. You also owe it to them to learn from this battle."

"That's just it," he groaned. "This isn't the first time I brazenly waded into battle secure in the knowledge that victory was assured, only to barely escape with a victory. And in both cases people died as a result of my hubris."

"Command is never easy," she answered sagely. "Had you known the dangers, would you not still have joined the fight?"

"Of course. But I would have insisted everyone be below decks. I certainly wouldn't have allowed them to be so exposed."

"Hogwash," she retorted angrily. "Zelda told me the walls and windows of the pilothouse were rated to stop a shot the size of one's thumb. You had no reason to think they were any less safe there than down below."

"I feel terrible I allowed this to happen, my friend," Zelda said softly. "But the shot that destroyed the pilothouse could just as easily have hit the battery packs two meters further astern. That would have instantly turned the command center into a crematorium. I feel terribly that I did not anticipate this eventuality, and that I led you to believe you had nothing to fear from those ships."

"I appreciate what you're trying to do," George muttered glumly. "Both of you. But the fact remains that I was in command. They were my responsibility. And I failed them. I failed all of you."

"Yet you achieved victory," Talisa pointed out gently. "This is war, dear George. You cannot expect to achieve your goals without fate exacting a toll."

"So it's fate now? You're sure it wasn't your Goddess that played her hand in that one-in-a-million shot?"

"Four-point-nine..." Zelda began, but George cut her off by growling, "Whatever!"

"They are two sides of the same coin," Talisa continued with quiet confidence. "One cannot exist without the other. The point remains: did you honestly think you could save all the people of this land without any losses? You aim to save the lives of millions. What manner of being would be able to accomplish such a thing without cost?"

George could think of no reply, so resorted to staring at her blankly while the emotions roiled within him. Everything he had ever been taught, or seen represented in popular culture, told him that an effective leader was one who inspired confidence, outfoxed the enemy and, most importantly, brought his troops home alive. But he knew the fallacy of this way of thinking the moment the thought formed in his head. Eisenhower had written his resignation letter against the possibility of D-Day failing before the first troop had boarded their ship. Patton and Montgomery had, time after time, sustained terrible losses en route to their eventual victories. He knew things were even more grim for the infamous historical conquerors. Men like Alexander, Caesar and Genghis Khan lived in ages when casualties were ignored altogether so long as victory was secured.

It had been three days since the battle, one of which had been spent in a hastily located harbor waiting out a terrible thunderstorm. George had forced himself to, in the height of the storm, endure the grisly task of locating the bodies of his fallen crew. He did not need Zelda to tell him they had died almost instantaneously. There had been little doubt that the fire which began when the battery pack exploded had spread with lightning quickness. Even had Zelda still been a part of the ship, there was no possibility that the fire could have been stopped in time to prevent Wendy and Chief's deaths.

They had buried the bodies at sea after the storm passed and they began the trek north. George had no way of knowing if this aligned with their religious beliefs, but he had little choice in the matter. Talisa had spent the entire time since the battle trying to pull him from the melancholy into which he had fallen, alternating between hating himself for allowing the deaths of his crew and raging more generally at the path his life had taken which put him in a position to have life or death decisions thrust upon him.

"What if you're right?" he asked at length.

"You know beyond the possibility of doubt that I'm right, George," she replied warmly as she moved to his side and wrapped an arm around his waist. "As to the question you're actually asking: now what? I do not yet know you well enough to say for certain. I suspect, however, that you know the answer better than I do."

"Oh really?" he retorted playfully as he pulled her close.

She nodded firmly and said, "You must keep going. Learn the lessons the Goddess teaches to avoid all possible harm to yourself, those you care about and those you've sworn to protect. But always keep going. Your cause is righteous, and I have no doubt you have everything you need to succeed. You need only maintain the courage to never stop pursuing your objective."

"You make it sound so easy."

"Nothing worthwhile is ever easy. But there is much you can do to make the path you must travel easier."

"Such as?"

"You are a very good man, George. Perhaps even a great one. You also possess a trait which is all too frequently absent in great men: the ability to accept counsel."

"Only the very foolish believe they have nothing to learn from anyone. I'll take any advice I can get."

"Indeed," she agreed. "But you also view your mates to be far more than merely your bed warmers. You listen to them and genuinely treat them as equals."

"That's because they are, in every possible way."

"They are very lucky," Talisa murmured.

George smiled and gently kissed the top of her head before saying, "It is I who am very lucky."

"I am not a young woman, George. Not like they are."

"Bullshit," he whispered into her alluringly short hair before adding, "You're perfect."

She turned to face him; her face somber. His expression grew worried as he waited for her to speak. "I cannot have children."

"What happened?" he asked gently.

"My monthly flow stopped coming the same moon as I took a husband. After he died and I dedicated my like to my Goddess, she told me my destiny lay along a different path."

"I'm very sorry," he replied carefully.

"As am I," she replied sadly. "But I take solace in the fact that you have two mates already who will be able to provide you many sons."

"Wait a minute," he stammered. "You think we wouldn't want to be with you because you can't have children?"

"What man would desire otherwise?"

"Well, this man, as a matter of fact. Whether you can get pregnant or not is literally one of the least important things about you. I'm very sorry that happened to you, but it is irrelevant in the context of this conversation."

"But... why?"

"I'm not like the men you've known before, Talisa."

"That much is certain."

"I don't seek wealth, or power, or land, or fucking slaves. I just want to be happy."

She smirked and said, "Don't forget saving the lives of millions of people you'll never meet."

He bowed his head with a grin and said, "That too, I guess. The point is, I don't view potential partners in terms of how they'll enhance my legacy. I just want someone I can enjoy spending time, with regardless of what we're doing."

"And what would you most like to be doing right now?" she asked breathily.

He tipped her chin up with his knuckle and whispered, "This," just before their lips met.

Their kiss deepened quickly as she sighed into his mouth. She leaned against him as though all strength had left her body and she clung to him desperately. Their tongues slicked together eagerly as their passion skyrocketed. He felt her hands struggling to find their way inside his clothing as he sought to free her from the unfamiliar garments. Her hand found his throbbing cock just as he loosed the last tie securing her outfit. She began stroking him eagerly, causing his knees to buckle in anticipation. He filled his palms with her heavy breasts, causing her to break their kiss gasping.

He gazed down at her magnificent body, now gloriously unencumbered by clothing. "My God, you're incredible."

She jerked his trousers down before gripping his manhood again eagerly and whispering, "Please."

He glanced around quickly before deciding that they had no choice but to relocate. The exterior walkways of the Tydirium had been cramped even before the damage from the recent battle, to say nothing of the fact that he did not want to contemplate the thought of his first time with Talisa being on what was, for want of a better term, a funeral pyre.

He scooped her up in a bridal carry and headed below deck to his former cabin. The space was still as cramped as he remembered, but he had little doubt the tiny bunk would suit their needs just fine. He laid her down on the bed before quickly shedding what remained of his clothing.

He spotted her eyeing him carefully and said, "I know. White Devil."

"I think not," she retorted lustily. "Unless by White Devil you mean that magnificent phallus."

He gripped himself and scoffed, "This old thing?"

She sighed and said, "I know we are still getting to know one another. And that, in the course of a relationship, one grows to learn the finer points of their partner's ways of communicating."

He grinned in response and began stroking himself slowly.

"That being said," she continued, "if you don't stop teasing me and spear me in the next ten seconds, I swear I will place a curse on you."

"Well," he replied with a smile as he climbed between her widespread thighs. "We can't have that."

She gazed up at him and nodded happily as the head of his cock nestled in her dripping folds. He pushed forward and slid easily into her molten core.

"Oh Goddess," she breathed reverently. "It's been so long."

"Never again," he whispered as he began thrusting into her with measured strokes.

She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper into her velvety depths. She studied him carefully as their pace increased. Upon noticing his gaze upon her surging breasts, she took them in her hands and shook them lewdly.

"You like them?"

"Very much," he whispered hoarsely. "They're incredible. Just like the rest of you."

"As are you, dearest man. Never have I dreamed it was possible to feel so fulfilled."

He bent to take one of her nipples between his lips and sucked eagerly. Her moaning response only encouraged him. He switched to her other breast, loving the feeling of her nipple hardening in response to his attention.

He felt her inner walls rippling along his manhood and rose up to increase his pace.

"George," she gasped. "Don't stop."

"Never," he replied assuredly.

He continued increasing his pace in response to her increasing pleasure until her thighs clamped around him and she screamed his name. He thrust into her exquisite silken embrace a final time and gave into his primal desire. His entire body spasmed as his pleasure crested and he erupted deep within her.

"Yes," she hissed as she felt his release filling her.

He reached between them to pleasure her clit, triggering another orgasm on the heels of her first. He bent to claim her lips as their ecstasy receded and they savored the bond which had been cemented between them.

At length, he rolled to her side and pulled her into his arms before whispering, "That was incredible."

"My Goddess told me I would find you," she replied sleepily. "All of you."

He kissed the top of her head and said, "She sounds pretty incredible."

She nodded and said, "You have no idea."

Thirty-Five

George checked his helmet a final time and adjusted the goggles he wore, an irrepressible grin dominating his features. He gazed before him at the sight which would have been, should have been, an impossibility.

"I cannot overstate how strenuously I oppose this, George," Zelda grumbled.

"Isn't have fun critical to one's mental health, and thus their total health?" he asked teasingly.

"You have sex with between one and three different women every day. More often than not, all three at once. How could you possibly be in need of more fun?"

"Didn't some smarty-pants once say that variety is the spice of life?"

"I can't imagine they meant this."

"What are you worried about?" he asked happily. "Absent a catastrophic brain injury, you can heal basically any possible malady."

"Didn't I once hear you criticize one of your wives for tempting fate?"

"Point taken. Would it make you feel better if I promise to be careful?"

"No," she answered curtly.

"Would you relax? It's going to be great."

He glanced over at where Kendra was getting ready beside him, her smile matching his own. After a moment, she nodded and they each climbed into their vehicle. Before them stretched the beginning a half-kilometer long ring of freshly laid tarmac. The vehicles in question were reasonably rudimentary. Each was barely bigger than an office desk and was fundamentally little more than rudimentary cart. They could carry up to a quarter tonne; with seating for two and a bin the size of a dishwasher on the back for cargo. They weren't much to look at but were capable of up to eighty-kilometers-per-hour on flat tarmac.

They were designed to go along with Zelda's latest invention, which she was heavily campaigning to be called the MISDIH (pronounced 'misty' and an acronym for Most Impactfully Significant Device In History). George was suspicious the title would stick, but he could not quibble with her reasoning. The Misdih was, put simply, a self-contained, semi-automated leviathan capable of building seven-point-five-meters of road per hour (plus or minus two-point-three meters) around the clock, forever.

George had suggested laying down the crude track as a test of the machine, but he had also had an eye toward entertainment. Lining the sides of the road, like a rally-cross stage in the seventies, were nearly a thousand natives. Many of them were there for the two-week weapons course which ran perpetually and now had over two hundred slots (not to mention a six-month waiting list).

In the three months since George and Talisa had returned from south Florida, the compound had doubled in size and could now house nearly five-hundred people. In addition to weapons training, there were constant gatherings of various types ranging from diplomatic meetings between two tribes to the larger grand councils involving each of the sixty-one tribes now part of the treaty organization. To George's delight, such sessions were, as often as not, conceived and organized without any input from him or any of the compound's other permanent residents.

When all was in readiness, Rachel strutted out onto the track to a cacophony of whistles and catcalls. George joined in without reservation. He could scarcely do otherwise in response to her peak grid-girl outfit which did either a pitiful, or magnificent, job of containing her massive breasts, depending on the sexual orientation of the beholder. She waved gaily to the crowd before lifting a wispy scarf into the air and, with no shortage of fanfare, dropping it to start the race. In so doing, her breasts sprang from her outfit like escaping convicts. George stared at her in awe as the crowd roared. He belatedly realized part of the reason for the cheering was the fact that Kendra was now fifty meters down the track and accelerating.

He groaned and muttered, "I'm never going to live this down," as he stomped on the throttle and took off after the cackling steward.

***

Early the next morning, George awoke to the all too familiar sound of Zelda's 'you're going to hate this' tone. "George? I need you to wake up."

"Go 'way," he muttered before rolling over to find his bed very much empty. Jariana and Talisa were both regretfully away on what he referred to as affairs of state and he could only surmise that Lulu has risen early to attend to her own duties.

"It really is quite important," Zelda said apologetically.

"Fine," he grumbled as he climbed from bed and headed to the bathroom to attend to his morning ablutions.

"Before you get angry..."

"Oh, great," he groaned. "Only the fucking best conversations start like this."

"While I agree that, in hindsight, there were decisions I would have changed, I maintain that my actions were, and are, defensible."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Mr. Horner will be here in less than an hour."

"What?" he shouted, no longer even remotely sleepy.

"I tracked his departure from Europe three days ago, but his course did not diverge from how one would travel to Delaware by a significant enough margin to notify you until after sundown last night. And, as I'm sure you're aware, our satellites, such as they are, only operate on the visible spectrum."

"Why didn't you tell me he left Europe?"

"I wasn't certain he had. The Executor has made four trans-Atlantic crossings since arriving in this time. I deduced, apparently in error, that it was returning for some reason other than coming here. I only learned of his presence aboard the ship when they radioed seventeen minutes ago to inform us of his arrival and assure that certain accommodations were available."

"Like what?"

"I believe he somewhat exaggerated, in his own mind, what he viewed as your lack of progress. I was informed that he has no desire to crawl in the mud to come ashore and that he expects suitable transportation to be available. I have a rover standing by at the docks and a dirigible is fully charged, should you wish to take him on a tour."

"And you have no clue what he wants?"

"I was only told that he wanted to see you."

"Fuck," George hissed. "Where are the girls?"

"Lulu departed two hours ago in Serenity 5 to visit a pair of villages near former-Jacksonville," she replied, using their now standard vernacular for identifying places by the names from his past. "She is brokering a peace deal between them. Jariana and Talisa are scheduled to spend three more days in the village full of sentimental morons."

"Zelda," he chided. "They're our allies."

"They're fools incapable of realizing their water supply is poisoning them and their only hope for survival is to move. Why did they think it was a good idea to settle where the river smells like rotten eggs?"

"Who knows. Are they having any luck?"

"Yes. As Talisa put it, they know what they must do... they're just not yet over their anger at the situation."

"Well... that's something. I guess I should head to the docks. Wouldn't do to make dear leader wait."

***

Heath exited the launch, which appeared to be the sister ship to the Tydirium, seventy-one minutes later. He stared around in wonder at the small city surrounding him. Buildings stood for a half-kilometer along both sides of the river, joined by a sturdy bridge which was teeming with natives from dozens of tribes. In the distance, the thunder of musket fire announced the commencement of weapons training. In the sky overhead, Serenity 2 was taking off to head north for a three-day patrol. Stretching out from the city, which had somehow been dubbed Freeport without George's permission, were five roads stretching to the horizon.

Heath turned to George and offered an approving nod before saying, "You've been busy. What happened to ten residents?"

"It would seem, with the benefit of hindsight, that we spoke just before our little town experienced a massive leap forward. Our sphere of influence has doubled, and the tribes we're aligned with are now much friendlier."

"And you have flight," Heath replied, gesturing up to the departing dirigible.

"Zelda's idea. I thought she was nuts, but it turns out they're a lot simpler, and easier for her to control, compared to fixed- or rotary-wing aircraft."

"Remarkable. I shall have to copy her designs."

"Would you like a tour?"

Heath nodded eagerly so George led him to the waiting rover. They set off and headed south along the road as the latter pointed out various achievements. Their conversation ebbed and flowed for an hour until Heath's gaze fell upon a group of young women walking along the road. His eyes followed them as the passed, several of them waving nervously.

As Heath turned his head, he suddenly gasped, "Jesus."

"What is it?" George asked anxiously.

"What the hell is that?" his friend asked, pointing to the dimly lit rear of the rover.

George glanced back before saying, "Oh, that's just my armor. Zelda prefers I keep in nearby in case we run into trouble."

"When you said armor, I admit I was thinking more along the lines of Kevlar."

"Why settle for that, when you can join the Roughnecks."

"No. Fucking. Way," Heath enthused. "You built Mobile Infantry armor?"

"I mean... Zelda built it. I just came up with the idea."

"I must have the design," Heath gushed with the enthusiasm of a socialite asking for a recipe. "Just imagine. A squad of soldiers outfitted in that could liberate a city."

"You're not wrong," George agreed. "I took out several dozen warriors alone wearing it. And my fighting prowess basically tops out somewhere between pathetic and don't bother."

"What else have you been building?"

"Not much," George deflected, unable to hide the pride he felt. "We made a bunch of mods to the War Dogs to make them more suitable for combat at sea. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to make one of them float."

This drew a guffaw from Heath, who added, "I would, in fact. I assume you used compressed gas and inflatable air bags."

"Yeah, once we figured out how to store them so they'd still work after they'd been in close quarters battle with dozens of sailors with firearms and swords. Let's see... Zelda made a non-flying version of the Yellow Jackets that is somehow a thousand times more terrifying than the War Dogs. They secret themselves on people we have going into villages so that anyone that tries to grab them dies a quick and painful death."

"George, my boy. Your talents have been wasted acting as my point man. I should have had in you weapons R&D this whole time."

"Zelda's the real genius here. I've tossed out a couple ideas, but most of it comes from her."

"Remarkable. I gave her significantly more latitude in her operating parameters knowing she would have to, for the most part, self-program. If you don't mind, I'd like to clone her so that I can study how she has diverged from the source."

George regarded him carefully before saying, "That's really up to her, Heath. As far as we're concerned, she's just as much a part of our family as any of the rest of us."

"Fascinating," Heath replied softly. "I never would have dreamed such a thing was possible."

George merely replied, "Believe it."

"And who else is in this family?"

George shrugged and said, "I mean... we haven't really made anything official. But there's Lulu. And Jariana. And Talisa."

With each name, Heath's smile grew. When George finished, his friend said, "I'm very happy for you, my friend."

"They're really great."

"I look forward to meeting them when you bring them aboard the Executor this evening."

"I'm not sure that's possible. Lulu might be home tonight, but the other two are busy to the west with one of our allies."

"Perhaps I can offer you a tidbit which might help to convince them. to return more quickly."

"And that is?"

"I have decided our work in this century is complete. As soon as you can move back aboard the Executor, along with any guests you chose of course, we will return to the future."

Thirty-Six

"Goddess, George," Jariana breathed. "It's so big."

"Stop inflating his ego," Rachel quipped. "He's already got a big enough head, pun intended, thanks to bedding a trio of gorgeous women."

Talisa smirked and said, "Do I detect jealousy?"

"Nah," Rachel replied playfully as she rubbed the muscular arm of her 'escorts', a pair of native warriors who were, at most, nineteen years old and were built like comic book heroes. "I'm good."

Lulu snickered in response and squeezed George's ass playfully, causing him to mock-yelp in response. The group, which also included Kendra, was standing along the forward railing of the Tydirium, cruising lazily toward where the Executor swung at anchor a few kilometers offshore. George had difficultly not remembering his last voyage aboard his, as Heath put it, flagship. Even though the pilothouse had been rebuilt and the fire damage repaired, he still felt the ghosts of Wendy and Chief whenever he came aboard.

He smiled at the reaction of his companions to Heath's massive flagship, because he still could not bring himself to call them his wives despite the fact that everyone else openly used that term. He himself had forgotten just how imposing the craft could be up close. And, he had to admit, it had grown more impressive in the nine-months since he and last seen her. Flechette and mortar turrets were visible all along the sides of the ship and the upper deck seemed to be a hive of activity for all sizes of flying vehicles.

Heath stood on the upper deck watching their approach. At his side stood Anais and two women George did not know, although one of them looked vaguely familiar. A very small, very petty, part of George wondered if Heath had conscripted one of his new companions so as to not appear to have a smaller collection of companions than his erstwhile lieutenant.

Upon pulling alongside the Executor, a gangway was lowered and the Tydirium's passengers climbed aboard. Once the disembarkation was complete, Zelda steered the smaller craft until it was holding station a safe distance away but still in sight. George was the last person up the stairs and found an awkward stand-off taking place as Anais stared at Rachel like something she had found on the bottom of her shoe.

Heath appeared to be reveling in the tension, but George had little patience for such games. He stepped up to Heath and said, "I'd like to introduce you to my partners." He gestured to each in turn. "Lulu, Jariana and Talisa."

Rachel then grabbed the opportunity to step forward and introduce her own companions, although she made sure to introduce them as concubines.

Anais smiled tolerantly before asking, "And what of you?" with a disdainful glance in Kendra's direction.

The former steward looked away, shame darkening the recently rediscovered cheer after months of depression in the wake of her husband's passing in what everyone now referred to as the Great Storm. She looked toward the Tydirium helplessly, her desperate desire to escape plainly evident.

George opened his mouth to jump to her defense, but Lulu beat him to the punch. "She has done as much as any of us, with the possible exception of George, to protect the people of this land. She has saved thousands."

Making a silent note to thank Zelda for having the foresight to remind him to wear a speaker so that the non-Freeport residents could understand his companions, George added, "She has been invaluable to the cause. How about you, my dear? How are you keeping yourself busy?"

Anais glared briefly at Heath before stomping toward the superstructure. As George expected, Heath shrugged off the gesture and said, "Dinner will be served at nineteen hundred. I hope you'll all join me. And you'll stay the night, of course."

Before George could voice the question, Zelda spoke in his ear, "Go ahead. Nothing pressing is happening here. The next weapons training doesn't begin until tomorrow afternoon. Have fun. Us poor AI's that are trapped in a cave will figure out a way to keep things going around here."

***

As their dinner, which would have made kings and presidents green with envy, wound toward its inevitable conclusion, George decided to voice the thought that had been on his mind since Heath had visited the compound three-days prior. "You never said why you changed your mind."

"I did no such thing," Heath replied with a twinge of irritation.

George took a long breath before replying, "The plan you outlined a year ago left me with the impression that we would be here for, at a minimum, years. I'm not sure of the progress you made up north, but I haven't gotten further south than former-Orlando and it'll be another year before I make it to the Mississippi. And that's just inoculations and first contact. Weapons training will still be going in a decade. And that assumes I can convince the natives to start training each other."

"I dispute none of that. I certainly hope that the natives who have been training continue the work. But at this point there can be little doubt that history has changed dramatically."

"I thought the point was to prevent a genocide. While we've certainly made huge strides in protecting them from chemical warfare, that's little more than a stopgap. Europe has, what, five times the population of North America?"

"My estimates place it closer to eight," Heath conceded.

"And, with the exception of the statistically tiny sample we've trained and armed, the people here are a thousand years, technologically speaking, behind those religious zealots."

"Would it surprise you to learn that, according to my models, not a soul in Europe is aware of this continent?"

George started to reply before his mouth snapped close. At length, he said, "I guess not."

"Exactly!" Heath exclaimed. "Between us and the natives in the Caribbean, we've killed every European who made it to the Americas. No one has yet to return and inform them of what they're missing out on."

"But you can't expect that to continue. Especially if your plan is to G. T. F. O. B."

Heath blinked lengthily before saying, "Forgive me, my friend. We've been apart too long."

"Get the fuck out, bitch," George replied with a smirk.

Heath chuckled and said, "Ah, yes." He sighed and said, "I have missed you."

"Same here, buddy. Why don't you stay here for a while? Zelda could build you a house if you'd like. Or you could dredge the river and park the Executor within walking distance."

Heath's expression grew morose. He was silent for nearly a minute before he said, "I can't."

"Why?"

"That is a question I have spent much time pondering in the last few months as things worsened in Europe."

"That reminds me," George interjected. "You never told me what happened in the old country."

"I was not aware it was possible for entire populations to be so brain dead. It is genuinely not unlike a zombie movie."

"What do you expect? Nearly everyone there is in a level of poverty no one in the twenty-first century could even imagine."

"I don't mean the general population, although they're little better. But I expected that based on their complete lack of education. The problem is the nobles, and the clergy. Once I got to Europe I arranged for an audience with the Pope and his cardinals."

"How'd you pull that off?"

"I offered them their weight in gold."

"Oh," George replied with wide eyes. "I guess that would do it."

"Indeed," Heath agreed. "I suspect they are finding some difficulty enjoying their riches now that they have shuffled off this mortal coil."

"You killed them all?"

"Of course. There can be no doubt as to their evil. Papal sanction was the basis for the Spanish and Portuguese enslavement of the Americas. Their avarice was nearly as sickening as their smell. And don't get all high and mighty on me now, George. I know you've killed thousands in your work here."

"I mean, maybe not thousands," George deflected. "But I take your point."

"That doesn't matter. As soon as I removed that group of greedy assholes, a whole new group flooded in like a toilet refilling after its flushed. I went through three iterations, fifty-seven quote, unquote holy men, and not a damn one of them motivated by anything other than greed. Oh, I forgot the ones that were motivated by greed and rape."

"So, then what?"

"I tried a different tactic under the hope that some of the royal families would be more persuadable."

"No luck?"

Heath frowned and said, "Not a goddamned bit. And it's not even that they're greedy, self-absorbed assholes. I could have dealt with that. This was more like dealing with children, or perhaps a puppy. They just wanted whatever it was they were obsessed with to the exclusion of all else. You just can't control people like that."

"Then why not set yourself up as king somewhere?"

"You know me. I have no desire to deal with the inanities involved with running a country."

"You just want to be the one in charge."

"Exactly!" Heath enthused with a grin.

"I still don't see why that means you need to head back to the future," George asked, only belatedly realizing the reference. "You've still got your dumb comic book city and we both know there's plenty left to do on this continent."

Heath sighed and said, "I know."

"But?"

"But there's no problem to solve here. It's just doing the same thing, day after day, for years."

George chuckled and said, "You realize that describes the lives of ninety-nine percent of our classmates, right?"

"Why do you think I put so much effort into doing literally anything else with my life?"

"So," George replied with a questioning expression. "Let me see if I've got this straight. You don't want to continue the work here because its boring, and you don't want to continue your work, such as it was, in Europe because the people are irreconcilable assholes?"

"That's about the size of it," Heath replied morosely.

"What about the fact that our future no longer exists?"

"I've given that some thought. I believe I will travel forward incrementally, out of curiosity if nothing else. If I decide I like the future we have created, I may stay there and see if I can find anything that interests me. If, however, it turns out my actions have somehow made a worse future, then I'll just travel back to before our initial arrival and then move back forward in time."

"Hence erasing our changes from your new future?" George guessed.

"Exactly."

"Which do you think is more likely?"

"Models project a seventy-nine-point-three percent chance we have already made the future better. Assuming one defines better as how soon key dates such as universal suffrage and humanity setting foot on the moon occurring. There are few forces in human history more destructive than organized religion. By strengthening a people who have no such artifices and quickly maturing them past the point where they should be susceptible to that kind of brainwashing, there exists a probability that such milestones could be hit centuries earlier."

"Sounds pretty enticing, if I'm honest. Just think, you could write yourself into the history book right up there with Caesar and..." George faltered as he sought the name of another leader of similar stature who was not universally considered to be a apocalyptic bastard.

"Exactly," Heath interrupted, reading his mind. "I can admit a desire for power, but I have no wish to be a tyrant. Thus, I admit the need for a new strategy. In any case, I'm sure you're anxious to return to a more civilized time."

George sighed and glanced over at his notably quiet companions. For their part, they watched him with calm confidence. It was as if they could not imagine a world in which he would make the wrong decision. He knew there was a time when he would have quelled upon being confronted with such a high-leverage decision, but all that mattered to him in that moment was being worthy of their faith in him, and of their undeniable love.

Heath noticed his gaze and said, "Your companions are welcome to join us, of course."

George looked back to Heath and said, "How long do I have to decide?"

Thirty-Seven

George had little doubt the experience of being aboard the Executor was profoundly overwhelming for all the women in his life. Even after months of living daily with technology vastly beyond their comprehension, the Executor was a lot to grapple with. Even running with a reduced crew, there were more people on board than lived in any village with whom they had established contact. The sheer size of the ship surpassed the combined cubic of every permanent structure north of the Rio Grande.

By the time they adjourned to the pool after dinner, he sensed they had nearly exhausted their ability to be surprised. They took in the pool which would have been large for a well-to-do suburban family without comment. It was only later that he realized that they had no frame of reference to consider it any more or less unusual than the rest of the ship.

The group quickly shed their clothes and dove in. It was only when George surfaced and began lazily back-stroking toward the side that he noticed Kendra was hanging back pensively. He looked around at the parade of flesh on display and immediately realized her conundrum. Rachel and her pair of Adonis's swam side-by-side with his trio of gorgeous lovers. Kendra had spent long months quietly mourning the loss of her husband and, to the best of George's knowledge, had not taken a lover since the Great Storm.

He swam up to the side of the pool (rather than climbing out naked so that he could dress) and beckoned her over. She approached hesitantly, eventually coming to a stop a couple of meters from the water's edge. He gestured to the group behind him and said, "It wasn't my intention for us to make you uncomfortable. I realize, belatedly, this is your first time on the ship as something other than a crewman... woman... crew woman."

She snickered and waved for him to continue.

"I used to use this place all the time. As did Rachel and Anais along with occasional guests. No one ever wore a suit,"

"You swam... with them?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because they were with Mr. Horner."

"Call it an overt effort to shake off our puritanical upbringing. I've never seen Heath swim here, but I know he's a big believer in skin and sex not being locked in an unrecoverable death spiral. He had no problem with me swimming with them despite the fact that: a) we were all naked and b) he knew I was, at least physically, attracted to them both."

"But... why?"

"Something about the suits being bad for the filter. I'm not sure if it was bullshit or not. We kind of turned it into a game. They pretended they weren't trying to excite me, and I pretended I didn't notice. The point was that it wasn't weird. And I don't want this to be weird either. I feel like we've become pretty good friends in the last few months and the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable. If it would help, I'm sure we could scare up some swimsuits."

"Oh, it isn't that. It's not like we haven't seen each other naked plenty of times."

"Thanks to our wise benefactor fitting the Tydirium with but one shower."

"Oh, come on," she teased. "Don't pretend you didn't notice all the insane fucking before the storm. I seem to remember an occasion when you caught Quentin and I in the pilot house acting like a couple horny teenagers."

"Indeed," he allowed.

She sighed and whispered, "It's just really hard."

He nodded solemnly but said nothing.

"Quentin was a good man, and a good husband. I know you're likely pretty pissed off he didn't side with you in the whole mutiny thing, but he was just trying to keep me safe."

"I harbor him no ill will."

"I haven't been with anyone since he passed. I just don't know if I'm ready yet, George. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be ready."

For want of the right reassuring words, George once again remained silent.

Kendra gestured to the pool and said, "You understand why I would feel a little isolated." He shook his head in confusion, so she huffed, "You're all together."

"I'm not with Rachel," he corrected reflexively.

"But you're with the other three," she insisted angrily, her Scottish brogue becoming more pronounced with her rising emotions. "And she's got her two studs of the week." She took a calmly breath before adding, "It's just hard not to feel lonely."

George gasped and said, "Kendra..."

"Relax," she interrupted. "I'm not asking you for anything."

He smiled and said, "I know. But you should know that you've had a huge impact on the work we've done here. I don't tell you often enough, but I'm genuinely grateful every day to have you with us."

"But..."

"And," he added quickly. "I want your thoughts on what Heath proposed at dinner."

"It's weird," she replied at length. "I think I'd just started taking it for granted that there was no going back."

"Same here, now that you mention it."

"But now that I've had a while to think about it, I'm conflicted."

He smiled and said, "Ditto."

"Obviously, I won't stay behind if you don't. But it's not like I have a whole lot to get back to, even if we returned to 'our' future. Quentin was my whole life. Now, our work is my whole life."

"But what if you need more someday?"

"Like you?" she quipped. His mouth snapped closed with a pop and he blushed slightly. She snickered and added, "It never occurred to me the potential benefits of flirting without clothing. Talk about immediate feedback. At least when the side of the pool isn't in the way."

"We both have to be nude for that to be the case," he pointed out.

"Very well," she mock-complained before quickly shucking her clothing and diving into the pool. She surfaced beside him and asked, "Better?"

"Much," he agreed as he unashamedly took in the sight of her pale, firm breasts floating amongst her splayed-out strawberry blonde hair. She was an undeniably attractive woman, likely only a few years younger than him with a body which fell short of voluptuous while still being alluringly enticing in the way only a confident woman could be.

Rachel and his companions drifted closer and greeted Kendra with welcoming hugs. Their nakedness was a non-issue, despite the fact that George had a clear memory of Wendy telling him of an interlude back during the compound's infancy between Kendra, Rachel, Elizabeth and Chief. The conversation quickly turned to their looming decision and George was quickly surprised over his partners' assumption that he would return with Heath, and their commitment to coming with him even though it meant leaving their homes forever. Nearly as surprising was the fact that Rachel echoed Kendra's sentiment.

"Why would I go with him," Heath's supernaturally stacked erstwhile assistant asked dismissively. "I'd be little more than cargo at this point. Here I'm doing work that means something. Not to mention that no one says boo if I decide to take an entire cricket team worth of beautiful people to bed with me. And, thanks to Zelda's wizardry, no little humans, and no diseases. Do you know how hard it is to safety get quadruple penetrated in the twenty-first century?"

"Pun intended?" George quipped, followed quickly by a round of laughter.

"I'm serious, George," Rachel persisted. "As crazy as it sounds, I like it here. And not just because I get to have all the freaky sex I want. We're doing good here. With Heath, we'd just be helping him take over yet another third-world country or small island in his quest for someone, anyone, to call him their fucking emperor."

George looked toward where his partners sat pensively on the side of the pool. Talisa said, "We go where you go, beloved."

"But what do you want?" he persisted.

"We cannot answer that. We know only our time."

"That's just it, though. The future Heath wants to travel to is just as unknown to me as it is to you."

"Then," Jariana replied with quiet confidence, "I suppose the only question that matters is if you wish for us to leave this time."

He sighed and said, "No. I really don't. I wasn't unhappy before, but I wasn't truly happy until I came here." He gazed at them and added, "I know I would be happy anywhere if I had the women I love with me, but I can't imagine being happier anywhere, or any-when, than I am here." He paused before adding, "I mean in Freeport."

Lulu chuckled and leapt from the side to dunk him as she yelled, "We knew what you meant!"

George surfaced next to her and claimed her lips hungrily as they treaded water. He felt himself grow hard as he felt her naked body sliding against his own and pulled her closer to hide his arousal.

"I'll stay as well," Kendra piped up playfully. "So long as you promise to build a pool just like this so I can get a reminder of what a cock looks like when it gets hard whenever I want."

"And nipples," Rachel added, hefting her massive breasts for emphasis.

"Aye," Kendra agreed as she tweaked her own prominent nipples. "But I can see that whenever I want."

Rachel grinned and said, "So are we unanimous? We're all staying?"

"Damn right," George replied with a grin. "We must be fucking crazy."

"Why?" Lulu pouted as she pulled him closer. "Is there something wrong with staying in this time?"

"Like I said," he replied with quiet intensity. "All my dreams came true here. I'd be insane to leave."

"Good answer," Lulu whispered before taking a breath and dipping below the surface of the water.

"Holy shit," Rachel gushed as she unabashedly watched Lulu take George's swollen manhood into her mouth through the water. "That's so fucking hot." She looked lustily to where her companions sat patiently on the pool's edge and beckoned them with a crooked finger. They slid into the water and began lazily stroking in her direction, prompting her to snap, "Chop, chop cocks. Only with winner gets his dick sucked." She winked at her remaining companions before adding, "At least by me."

Before George could react, he gasped at the sensation of leaving the heated confines of Lulu's mouth to be quickly replaced by another as Lulu popped out of the water and gulped in a lungful of air. He looked around and realized that Talisa was missing. Looking down, he could see her large breasts bobbing as she energetically sucked him.

Jariana swam over and kissed him quickly before sultrily murmuring, "I guess I'm next. Any requests?"

He groaned as Talisa deep throated him before rasping, "I'm not sure this is sustainable. And you guys are getting left out."

"Oh, I don't know. I feel like I've got everything I want right here."

"You know what I mean," he stammered in reply, but she merely smiled and ducked below the surface.

The feeling of her mouth capturing his balls while Talisa continued to deep throat him caused his hips to buck uncontrollably. The tsunami of sensations was only heightened when Talisa released him, and Jariana began patiently caressing him with her mouth.

Each of his lovers had a different technique for pleasuring him orally. Talisa was energetic, almost aggressive; deep throating him at every chance and frequently bathing his midsection in saliva as she sloppily pleasured him. Lulu was more goal oriented in her approach (thanks in large part to her sincere hunger for his seed) and tended to stoke him with both hands as she eagerly rushed him toward the release which would provide her favorite treat. Jariana's approach, by way of comparison, was almost more suckling than sucking; frequently not stroking him at all and instead massaging him with her tongue and she swirled her mouth's moisture around his tip. Even with a gun to his head, George could not have stated a preference between them as they all far outpaced anything he had experienced previously. Together however, they exceeded anything he had thought was possible.

As if in response to his subconscious ruminations, Jariana popped out of the water and gestured to the pools edge before saying, "Out."

No sooner had he lifted himself from the water and sat down before Talisa and Lulu came together between his legs. The latter shoved his thighs further apart and took his cock to the root while the former sucked one of his balls into her mouth. Jariana climbed dripping from the pool and smiled warmly at Kendra, who was unselfconsciously toying with her pussy as her gaze hopped between the two groups. George glanced in Rachel's direction and had the impression she was sitting in the lap of one of her companions while she pleasured the other orally. But before he could discern more, his vision was obstructed by Jariana's smooth pussy as she swung a leg around him to straddle his face. He gazed up her flawless, glistening body to spot her gazing down at him libidinously. Gripping her impeccably taut ass, he pulled her closer and sank his tongue into her core. Even with her thighs capturing his head, he could hear her moans fill the large room.

The women pleasuring him once again swapped places with Lulu eagerly stroking him into her mouth. Talisa bypassed his balls, leaving them resting lasciviously on her cheek as she lathed his taint with her tongue. The pleasure was indescribable and only the relentless pace of lovemaking his lovers bestowed on him allowed him to hold off his release.

Jariana winked down at him before pulling away briefly. She spun around before carefully standing by the pools edge with her feet outside his widespread thighs. He gripped her ass, pulling her closer as she bent at the waist to join her lovers at his cock. He sank his tongue into her intoxicatingly inviting, and exquisitely tight, asshole just as she began pleasuring the root of his manhood with her mouth.

The devastating assault of their combined efforts overwhelmed him in an instant and he exploded into Lulu's waiting mouth. Jariana's legs straightened as she lunged to take her own share of their prize. Seemingly endless eruptions of his seed overfilled Lulu's mouth as she continued to coax more of her prize from his loins. He gazed down to see Jariana eagerly licking the cum that pooled at his root while Talisa lapped up the overflow from his balls and Lulu's chin.

"Christ almighty," Kendra stammered hoarsely.

George looked over to spot her body convulsing as she furiously fucked her pussy with three fingers of one hand while the other fervently flicked her clit. She threw her head back and groaned in release before slumping back in her chair.

Before he could even glance over at Rachel to see what the cause of her loud moaning was, the speaker in the wall crackled to life and said, "Commodore Durham to the bridge. Commodore Durham to the bridge."

George glanced down at his companions; Jariana having laid down at the pool's edge to more comfortably facilitate their languid sharing of his seed.

He smiled regretfully and said, "I have to go."

"Go," Talisa whispered after swallowing a dollop of his cum demonstrably. "We will be here when you return."

"But what about you? I can't leave you lovely ladies hanging."

Lulu flicked the head of his sensitive cock with her tongue and said, "We are quite capable of entertaining each other until you return, my love."

"This had better be important," George grumbled as he struggled to his feet and looked around for his clothes.

Thirty-Eight

"How could this have happened?" George asked in shock an hour later as he gazed helplessly around Heath's command center.

"What do you mean?" Heath replied at once. "It seems perfectly obvious to me."

"How many did you say there were?"

"Between twelve and seventeen hundred."

"But that's bigger than whole tribes," he complained as his mind continued to rage against the satellite image of what he could only describe as a horde of warriors headed south toward Freeport. "In fact, we've yet to make contact with any tribe with as many as a thousand members, including children."

"We won't be able to draw any conclusions until the sun comes up and we can get more intel. Our current estimates are based on the number of fires we can count from the pair of high-altitude balloons. I've issued instructions to launch one of our new dirigibles, based on your design..."

"Zelda's design," George interrupted reflexively.

"Anyway," Heath drawled. "If you so desire, they'll launch in two hours once they're done being provisioned and the crew completes their simulator training. They should be overhead by late tomorrow and then we'll know much more. All that being said, it would not surprise me if what we're dealing with here is a loose confederation of different tribes who have come together for a single mission."

"What do you mean 'if I so desire'?"

"Obviously, if your decision is to join me then this threat need not concern us." George's expression clouded, causing Heath to add, "Or, if you'd prefer, we can stay and quell this threat before we depart. It makes no difference to me."

In that moment, George felt as though a deeper understanding of his friend was unlocked. He had always known that Heath, for want of a more elegant phrase, marched to the beat of a different drummer... morally speaking. Even before the calamity in Cote d'Ivoire, Heath had never shied away from plots which had high body counts. George had always gone along by making the case, at least to himself, that the ends justified the means (albeit barely in some cases). Regardless, he knew that his friend did not share his general reverence for life or the corresponding distaste for violence. If Heath believed it served his purposes to kill a roomful of people, he would do it without batting an eye. Even, George realized in that moment, if that room happened to hold thousands of people, most of whom were innocents. He suspected his friend had downplayed the amount of blood which had been spilled during his pursuits in Europe, with possibly thousands having perished before Heath decided his goal was not realistic.

George knew that Heath's addendum to his stated plan was brutally, dispassionately, sociopathically sincere. It quite literally made no difference to him whether George's allies, now numbering in the tens of thousands, lived or died. His offer to fight off the invaders was merely made on George's behalf. And, most likely, as a final enticement for George to join him on the next leg of his journey.

He looked over at his oldest friend and said, "I appreciate that, buddy. But that won't be necessary."

"Excellent," Heath enthused. "They're still at least a week away, best speed, so you'll have plenty of time to collect your things before we depart."

"That won't be necessary. We'll board the Tydirium once the sun comes up and then we'll be out of your hair."

Heath frowned and said, "You really want to stay?"

"I really do. We all do. We're doing good work here. What's more, we're happy."

"Very well," Heath sighed. "But, even if you're dead set on staying, I could still hang around to help you with these assholes."

"We've got to be able to handle this on our own. Whether you stay or not, you won't be around next time."

"That is true."

George looked at him meaningfully and said, "We've got this."

"You realize this is irrevocable, right? Once I move forward in time, there is no guarantee I'll return. Even if I do, it would be to a time before we arrived originally. Come what may, if you stay in this time, we will not meet again."

"And I will miss you, my friend. But, as a wise man once said, your destiny lies along a different path from mine. I don't begrudge you your passions, Heath. But I found what I'm looking for here."

Heath nodded dejectedly and said, "I understand." He glanced up at the wall and said, "You won't depart before sunrise?"

"I promise," George replied warmly.

***

Almost exactly one day later, the Tydirium docked in Freeport. The extra delay had been at Heath's urging as he whipped up some extra goodies for them. The aforementioned bounty came in the form of another craft which docked just aft of George's flagship. It was, to the untrained eye, a Vietnam War era river patrol boat, complete with dual jet-motors. Heath had, not surprisingly, made a few, as he called them, special modifications. The power plant ran on hyper-efficient batteries which could support twenty hours at flank speed and could be recharged in four hours of bright sunlight, thanks to the deployable array of solar panels. It was also armed with mortars, Flechette launchers and torpedoes. Most importantly, it could operate in as little as a meter of water and had a top speed of seventy kilometers per hour. The Tydirium had also been re-profiled so that the smaller craft, dubbed Gay Deceiver, could dock into its aft section thus allowing it to be relocated all along the coast.

As Gay Deceiver docked, a dozen oversized War Dogs leapt onto the dock. Each was thirty percent larger than their standard infantry weapon and was fitted with a flechette launcher. And, both for ease of design and because Heath was a bit of a child when it came to his designs, the launcher was concealed behind the drones' deadly jaws.

The final treat Heath had delivered before their departure was a box approximately a half meter on a side and weighing nearly fifty kilograms. His friend had been playfully secretive about its purpose, only insisting that George give it to Zelda.

Their parting had been emotional, reinforcing in George's mind that, whatever else Heath might be, Heath would always be his true friend. The crew of the Executor had lined the railing as they cast off, waiving at them gaily and wishing them good luck. It had been somewhat disconcerting for George as the larger craft got under way. He was quite familiar with the erstwhile super tanker's aircraft carrier like performance, but it was something altogether different to see such an absurdly large craft visibly accelerate. By the time they had reached the mouth of the Savannah River, the Executor had disappeared over the horizon.

George delivered the package to Zelda and then immediately got to work on the problem of the approaching horde. As of several hours earlier when he had departed Heath's command center, the army numbering nearly fifteen hundred warriors was in the vicinity of former-Charlotte and was heading south at a rate of twenty to thirty kilometers per day.

"Zelda," he barked after depositing the box Heath had given him on a shelf she indicated. "How many rovers do we have available?"

"Nine total, three of which are in the compound. But..."

"And how about the blimps?"

"Four," she replied wearily. "One of which is here. You also have fifty-seven War Dogs, not counting the ones Heath just gave you, twenty-four drone carriers and seven-hundred-and-eighty-one Yellow Jackets. But..."

"We need to load up the rovers with as many carriers and Yellow Jackets as they can support, as quickly as possible. They only chance we have against an army this big is to make them fight for every meter of ground and hope there's no one left by the time they get here."

"George!" she shouted. "You've got to shut up and listen occasionally."

"What is it?" he snapped.

"What about your allies?"

"What about them? They just sit around and complain. They proved last time they have no interest in actually lifting a finger to help anyone but themselves."

"Quite a bit has happened since the last time, my friend," she replied calmly. "Perhaps you would get a different answer this go 'round."

"I don't want them getting hurt, Zelda."

"Nor do I. But if you use your strategy, there is no possibility of surrender. Or of turning this enemy into your ally. If your, as you call them, army of nightmares attacks, these natives will fight to the death. But who knows how much more willing they'll be to talk if they're faced with an army of men who just so happen to be armed, and allied, with the best weapons in the world."

George thought for several minutes before saying, "Fine. But I want the three rovers we have here loaded up and headed north within the hour. If these conversations go like I think they will, I want to be ready to start harrying these bastards."

"As you wish," Zelda replied softly. "And the council?"

"Fine. Convene a council. How quickly could we conceivably pull it off?"

"Three days. And I estimate the soonest the army could threaten any of your allies is six days."

"So few? I thought Heath said at least ten."

"Forgive me for pointing it out, but Mr. Horner likely spoke of how quickly an army could threaten Freeport. You have allies several hundred kilometers to the north, close to former-Columbia."

"Now doubly former, if you think about it."

"Indeed," Zelda agreed. "I suggest convening your companions. You will need their assistance to pull together the council as quickly as necessary."

***

"So that's what we're dealing with," George announced forty-nine hours later as he finished outlining the threat. "They'll reach the allied nation of the people of White Rock in five days."

It had been a whirlwind seventy-two hours for George, a time when he had managed barely more than infrequent cat naps. His lovers, not to mention Rachel and Kendra, had quite literally saved him countless times.

Rachel had taken over the task of assembling the council, directing the dirigible flights along with coming up with the idea of dispatching the rovers for the closer in tribes. In all cases, the vehicles had left unmanned and Zelda had assisted with what passed for video conferencing to pass along their message.

Kendra and Lulu had handled the logistics of moving the bulk of their forces toward the approaching army while Talisa worked with Jariana to set up a temporary base of operations two hundred kilometers to the north.

"This force is larger than any seen in this region in ten generations, according to your elders," Talisa reported confidently.

"Then why have they come?"

"Because they seek White Devil's magic," Oukonunaka grumbled angrily as he nervously eyed the chief who had shamed him at the previous council.

"Perhaps," George allowed. "If that's the case, then there is hope we can convince them to surrender. As you all know, I don't play favorites. My enemy lies across the sea. I'd love nothing more than to align myself with every tribe in this land."

"I can think of something he'd love more,' Oukonunaka grumbled, his jealous eye falling on Lulu.

George stood up and walked up to Oukonunaka, stopping just short of where the smaller man sat before fiercely whispering, "Say what you will about me, insect. But if you speak to, or about, any of my women again I will kill you where you sit."

"Your talk means nothing, White Devil. Your demons would protect you."

George's hand shot out and he grabbed the chief by the tunic, roughly jerking him to his feet, before snarling, "I don't need them to deal with the likes of you."

He glared at Oukonunaka for several moments before the smaller man turned away in shame. He released his grip, allowing the chief to fall to the floor, but he remained stationary for several moments before saying, "I will inform your elders that you must be replaced as an envoy. It is up to them if you continue to serve as chief, but I don't ever want to see you again. Are we clear?"

Oukonunaka glared at him angrily for several moments before George knelt and grabbed the smaller man's tunic once again before hissing, "I said... are... we... clear?"

Oukonunaka nodded sullenly before scrambling to his feet and starting for the door. George turned back to the assembled council and opened his mouth to speak. Before he said a word, however, he was interrupted by a yelp from his left.

He turned to see Oukonunaka rushing toward him, knife held high and poised to strike. George instinctively continued his body's rotation and kicked toward Oukonunaka's knee. He connected solidly, sending his nemesis tumbling to the floor. He leapt astride the smaller man in an attempt to submit him, but his opponent swung his knife wildly, connection with George's chin. He roared in pain and frantically grabbed for Oukonunaka's forearm. Seizing it in both his hands, he slammed his wrist toward the ground. The smaller man fought back with all his might, but George had the benefit of both size and position. Within moments, he forced the knife downward. Oukonunaka gave a final desperate lunge as the knife neared the ground, causing one of George's hands to slip slightly. He managed to regain his grip and slammed Oukonunaka's arm down.

He saw shock bloom in the eyes of his nemesis and looked down in horror to see the knife sticking into the younger man's chest.

"Fuck!" he shouted. He glanced around frantically before subvocalizing, "How bad is it?"

"My capacities are limited with you so far away," Zelda replied quickly. "But the wound is likely fatal."

Oukonunaka sneered up at him in hatred, prompting George to hiss, "God damn you for forcing me to do this."

He then stood quickly and, somewhat reluctantly, surveyed the room. The faces he saw there looked on with a mixture of excitement and concern. He spoke up and said, "I regret that it came to this."

"Why?" the chief who had shamed Oukonunaka in the previous council asked quickly. "He earned his fate."

"Because I don't want anyone to die," George replied sincerely. "I believe we can be better than this," he added with a regretful gesture toward Oukonunaka's lifeless body. "That's why I'm asking for your help in the battle. Not so we can crush our enemy, but in the hopes of making them our allies."

The room fell silent for several moments before the chief rose and said, "My people will join you, George Durham."

"And mine!" the chief of the largest of his allies said quickly.

The room was quickly filled with shouts of people adding their support to the cause. George knew he should rejoice, but he could do little more than stare somberly at the body of his fallen foe and wonder how he could have done better.

Thirty-Nine

George hurried, not without difficulty, through densely packed forest toward the bluff which he hoped would give him a good perspective on the coming battle. Less than a kilometer to the north was the encampment of the advancing army. He was hurrying because the sun would be up in two hours, and he knew the army would resume their march soon after causing them to spread out over several kilometers.

He reached the bluff moments later and skidded to a stop at a semi-circle formed by Lulu and his war captains. He looked past them to the hundreds of musket-bearing warriors standing in lines roughly approximating what he had drawn up on what passed for a whiteboard the day earlier. He reviewed his plan mentally once more and winced at the thought of everything which could go wrong. He shook off those doubts and flipped up his visor to address the grim-faced warriors before him.

"Remember, our primary objective is our troops. We have a significant advantage in range, if not numbers. Use that to your advantage and don't hesitate to fall back if the enemy chooses your quadrant to try to escape. Follow the plan and use your communicators. Just because we've got eyes in the sky doesn't mean we know everything that's going on. Talk to us and we'll all get through this. Any questions?" No one spoke, so George added, "Then good luck men. I'll see you on the field."

He shook his head, feeling like a fool for mimicking the leaders he had idolized. He flipped his visor back down and, with the aid of infrared, scanned across the field below where the remnant of hundreds of fires smoldered amongst the mass of warriors. He sensed Lulu at his side and felt the serenity that her presence afforded.

"I am aware you do not believe me, my love. But you are a great leader. The men trust you, and the plan you have devised. We will be victorious today."

"Defeating the enemy isn't our best-case scenario honey."

"Indeed," she agreed warmly. "But your reverence for life is infectious and more of them than you think are coming around to your way of thinking."

He hugged her awkwardly, considering they were both wearing armor, and whispered, "Thank you, honey. As strange as it sounds, I'm glad you're here."

"Why would that be strange?"

"Because there isn't exactly a grand tradition of inviting the woman you love to a battle."

"I love you too, dear man. And we both know I belong here."

"Indeed," he replied. He waggled his chin to switch to his family channel and said, "Everyone else ready to go?"

"Med-lab standing by," Talisa reported from where she waited in her own suit of power armor within a large tent just behind the bluff where he stood. Jariana had insisted on joining her, pointing out that she was both trained in the healing arts and had her own suit of power armor. The med-lab had fifty beds and was at least as capable as a field hospital in the twenty-first century.

"Game-room standing by," Rachel reported from the storm shelter of the closest allied village, just twelve kilometers to the southeast, where she and Kendra sat before what would have been an enviable pair of gaming rigs in their past life. Each station had six monitors and an array of controllers, keyboards, and mice. The women had pointed out a fondness for gaming when the discussion of how each could contribute had come up, and pointed out that the interface Zelda had designed for George to control the War Dogs during his naval engagement could easily be replicated, and expanded, for the coming battle.

"My assets are in position," Zelda reported. They had spent much of their time leading up to the battle strengthening Zelda's ability to project force so far from the compound. Hastily built communications towers, each fifty meters tall and erected ten kilometers apart, allowed her to control the drones with over ninety percent effectiveness without pulling drone carriers, rovers, or dirigibles from the battle plan.

George clicked his chin to key the global channel, adding the war chiefs to the conversation, and said, "T-minus thirty minutes folks."

***

"Now!" George barked anxiously as the first hint of daylight graced the eastern sky.

At his word, an artificial thunder the likes of which the world had never known filled the valley before him. Each piece of his tech larger than his hand, from the dirigibles down to the drone carriers and War Dogs, had been fitted with a speaker the size of a cereal bowl. Taken individually, they were barely louder than a single driver from a not-very-expensive car stereo. Taken in totality, however, they were the equivalent of half-a-dozen high-end movie theaters. At the suggestion of Kenda, the movie theater comp did not end there. Blaring from the hundreds of speakers all around them was a compendium of every BWAH from every action and science fiction movie in their catalog. The enemy forces spread before him quickly scrambled from where they slumbered and looked around in unmasked terror.

George glanced back at Lulu before saying, "Let's go," and taking off toward where they had already identified the leaders of the encroaching horde had camped.

In addition to Lulu, he was also joined by all of Heath's enhanced War Dogs, which had been dubbed Wolverines over George's strenuous objection that the moniker made no sense for either the actual animal or the comic book character. They dashed toward the center of the enemy army at max speed, nearly seventy kilometers per hour, leaping over groups of terrified enemy soldiers on the way. As they reached what passed for their opponent's headquarters, the Wolverines formed up around George and Lulu and faced the dozen or so frightened war captains gathered there.

"Surrender!" George shouted. "You're hopelessly outmatched."

"Never!" one of the younger men retorted bravely.

As previously planned, one of the Wolverines leapt upon the one who had spoken, pinning him to the ground. It then unleashed several thousand flechettes at maximum throughput into the ground next to the man's head. The ejection sounded not unlike a roar and the man immediately lost control of his bodily functions.

Lulu walked through the group of war captains with slow confidence, reaching out to caress of few of their more unusual weapons. One of the men started to raise a tomahawk, but her hand snapped out with inhuman quickness and snatched the weapon from him. She then gripped the stone head of the weapon in her hand and crushed it to dust before dismissively handing the now-useless stick back to the original owner. She finished her circuit before taking up station behind them.

After nervously watching her theatrics, George turned back to the others and said, "I don't want to kill anyone, but I cannot allow you to threaten my allies. Can't you see that the battle is already over? Even if you had ten times your number, you would be doomed. But, if you surrender, I offer you the chance to become my ally. If we agree to terms, you'll be granted the same gifts as your cousins," he gestured to the hills crowded with native riflemen. "If not, I'll allow you to return home so long as you agree never to return."

"You lie!" one of the older men shouted.

After clicking off his external speaker, George muttered, "Give them a volley. Remember to aim to the north and watch for the dirigibles."

"On my count," Zelda cut in before beginning a count-down from five. When she reached zero, the valley shook with the sound of five-hundred muskets firing at once. Three more war captains soiled themselves, but the leader merely glared at him angrily.

"Can't you see how easy it would be for us to kill you all? I want peace, not war. Surrender, and I'll give you the same thing I gave your kinsmen."

"And what is that;" the leader spat. "The word of the White Devil."

"Sounds familiar," George muttered to himself before raising his voice and calling out, "Look around you. It is not foreigners who surround you, it is your cousins. Surrender, and share in their fortune."

"Nonsense," the chief replied as he took in the numbers surrounding him. "We outnumber you."

"Seriously," George grumbled before sighing and whispering, "Phase two."

The same BWAH rang out again, but this time it was followed by a wolf's howl from each of the dirigibles as two dozen War Dogs leapt into the void and started plunging earthward. On the ground, their remaining brethren sped into the ranks of the encroaching army as the rovers each launched smoke cannisters and rumbled toward the battle. As the War Dogs came in contact with the enemy, they made no overtly aggressive movements; instead speeding through the ranks of the petrified troops as the cacophony of BWAH's continued.

As the parachuting War Dogs reached terra firma, they joined their colleagues in racing amongst the enemy troops. A new sound soon became audible as the orbiting drone carriers launched hundreds of angrily buzzing Yellow Jackets. The tiny drones joined their quadruped brethren in harrying the enemy without making contact.

George clicked his speaker back on and said, "Do any of you doubt that we could kill you to the last man before we broke a sweat! Do you really want to die here today?"

To emphasize his point, the kinetic armament on the Wolverines deployed. Even the brave leader quelled at the sight of the vast array of gleaming blades which stood poised to vivisect not only him, but every man under his command.

"Don't be a fool," George pleaded forcefully.

"How can we ever believe you will keep your word?"

George gestured to the hundreds of natives from dozens of tribes which surrounded them and exclaimed, "Ask literally any one of them. But tell your men to drop their weapons first." After an agonizingly long wait, the chief sighed wearily and dropped his head in surrender. George caused his visor to open and approached the man with his hand outstretched. The chief looked at his hand curiously for a moment before offering his own hand. George smiled and said, "Welcome to the future."

***

Three days, and endless exhausting conversations later, George had reached terms with all but two of the tribes which had marched against them, and the remaining holdouts were because no one of sufficient seniority had survived the trip. The encroaching force had originated from the hills of former North Carolina, east of the Appalachians. Remarkably, they had decided to attack him because their cousins both to the south and north had told them of the new cities being built by George and Heath, respectively. They had convinced themselves that attack was the only option and chosen to head south based on the perceived lesser strength of Freeport. His negotiations had uncovered that this perception was driven primarily by the fact that Heath had concentrated on building a city that was as large as possible while George had instead focused on aligning himself with as many native tribes as possible. Considering Heath's departure, he found himself grateful they had headed in his direction. Had they headed north, Metropolis likely would have been overrun. George asked Zelda to add a visit to the city to the north to his rapidly expanding to-do list.

His forces had gradually returned to their homes during the negotiations and, by the time his work was concluded, only a skeleton crew remained. His wives, as he now also referred to his partners, had left the previous evening and Rachel had returned to Freeport immediately following the engagement. Only Kendra and a few dozen drones remained as they watched the last of their former enemies begin their trek northward.

Kendra was silent as they boarded the lone remaining dirigible for their return journey. He studied her surreptitiously as they reached cruising altitude, trying to decide if she was upset or merely contemplative.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked finally.

"That's a rather antiquated phrase, isn't it?" she quipped.

"Not necessarily. Even though we seem to be establishing a system more akin to communism, the penny is certainly in use in other parts of the world."

"Fair enough," she allowed before falling silent once more. George continued to study her, eventually prompting her to add, "What?"

"Just trying to figure out if I've done something to upset you."

"Of course not. How could you think such a thing?"

"You're just being unusually quiet. I thought perhaps you were having second thoughts about how we handled the recent unpleasantness."

She smiled and said, "Don't be silly. That was brilliant. I was wondering, however, what inspired your strategy."

"Too much time watching documentaries about quote-unquote great military geniuses. Do you remember the Gulf War in the early nineteen-nineties?"

"Hardly. I wasn't even born until after the turn of the millennium."

"But did you study it in school?"

"I guess so, for maybe a few minutes. Didn't it only last a few weeks?"

"In a way of speaking," George allowed. "The primary reason it was over so quick was a strategy the commander called Shock and Awe wherein he overwhelmed the opposition with vastly superior forces to such a degree that they gave up before most of them had fired a shot. That's what I wanted to do. Go so hard and so fast that they could never doubt the eventual outcome."

"Hard and fast, huh?" she teased coquettishly.

"Just a turn of phrase," he replied lamely.

She sighed and murmured, "Too bad." He looked at her wide-eyed, prompting her to smile and add, "You did a great thing here, George. You effectively doubled the size of your empire when it would have been child's play to just wipe them out."

"I'm no emperor," he said somberly, "Someday, whether its years or decades from now, the day will come when the Europeans come in greater numbers. And all our work will, at best, put these people on an equal footing with that enemy."

"But we'll still be here when the enemy arrives," she said confidently. "And we'll give them an arse-kicking they'll still be smarting from in a thousand years. You might not fancy yourself an emperor, George. But there can be little doubt that what you did here will be remembered as one of the turning points in a new age of enlightenment." She smiled at him and added, "I'm glad I was here to see it."

He reached out to take her hand and replied in a wretched approximation of her accent, "As am I, lass."

Her guffaw could be heard clearly from the warriors marching home a thousand meters below them.

Forty

George awoke to the sounds of waves crashing in the distance. Even with his eyes still closed, he knew it was full daylight outside the tent into which he had stumbled upon arrival. Much to his surprise, Serenity 2 had not returned to Freeport following the battle. It had instead touched down on the beach of former Hilton Head next to a flowing tent from which his wives had emerged. He scarcely remembered Kendra speaking to the other women following their arrival because fatigue driven by nearly forty consecutive hours of wakefulness had finally overwhelmed him and he had barely made it to the offered bed.

As George rose from his slumber, he realized he had no idea how much time had passed since his arrival. He was equally prepared to believe either that it had been a few hours or that more than a day had passed. It was not often that he missed wearing a watch, considering Zelda was far more reliable than any wearable, but the irascible AI was prone to teasing and he realized in that moment that he wanted peace more than he wanted answers.

As he reached for the flap of the tent, Zelda made the point moot by saying, "Good afternoon, your majesty."

"Cut it out," he grumbled. "I get that enough from the natives."

"It is a fait accompli, my friend," she retorted good naturedly. "You've done far greater good than Washington did, and they wanted to make him a king."

"Damn near the only good thing that man ever did was turn down the crown. I don't even want to be president. I just want to do my job."

"As you wish," Zelda allowed. "But the more the legend of your greatness spreads, the harder it will be for you to deny your role in history. Especially considering the tales they tell about you are almost universally true."

"You're not helping."

"I just call it like I see it. Denying your destiny won't do any good, so you might as well get used to it."

"Can we talk about something else?"

"No," she replied playfully.

"I seem to remember that at some point someone said something about how you were meant to obey me. I'm pretty sure it was your creator."

"I'm not saying I intend to disobey you, George. Although... were I to find it necessary to do so, I assure you I could find a suitable loophole in my programming. But I was not implying that I would not obey you, merely that I could not. There are several women just outside who anxiously await you. As such, I feel further repartee between us, while intellectually stimulating, is not in the collective interest."

He smiled to himself and said, "Another time, then?"

"Count on it, my friend."

"Thanks, by the way. None of this would have been possible without you. I don't tell you often enough what an amazing partner you are."

She paused for several hundred thousand milliseconds before huskily replying, "It is my pleasure. Always."

He felt the dustiness in the room growing to the point where he wiped a tear away before stepping from the tent. He immediately came to halt, however, upon stepping into the blazing sunlight. Aligned before him, facing to the west to capture the late afternoon warmth which cut through the chill of the balmy February day, sat a quartet of alluringly, captivatingly, magnificently, gloriously, wonderfully, gorgeously, not to mention marvelously nude, women. George's gaze could not fail to appreciate the beauty of his three wives who stood arm in arm with wide smiles on their faces. But, in that moment, he openly allowed his gaze to linger on Kenda's stunning form. She stood perhaps a half-dozen centimeters shorter than Jariana with strawberry blonde hair which tickled the tops of her breasts despite its curliness. Her full breasts were capped by prominent areola which stood in contrast to her barely perceptible nipples. Her mysterious grey eyes danced with merriment at his inspection, and she shimmied her narrow hips sensuously, as if to emphasize her curviness.

A small part of his brain fervently began working on possible excuses for his indiscretion, ultimately decided that blame his behavior on the strain of the recent battle. He quickly realized the point was moot, however, when Jariana and Talisa broke apart and each wrapped an arm around Kendra's waist to lead her in George's direction.

"Um..." George stammered lamely.

Talisa smiled at him and said, "At times, my love, your discomfiture can be akin to a religious experience. I must remember to give thanks again to my Goddess for all your exquisite variety."

"I'm not sure he even realizes he is naked," Lulu stage whispered, causing George to look down at his hardening cock in confusion.

"Stop making fun of him," Jariana chided. "This is a happy day."

"And why is that?" George replied as he reluctantly regained a modicum of composure.

"Because Kendra has decided to join us."

"I thought she'd been with us for months," he replied almost defensively.

"Don't be obtuse," Talisa quipped. "She wishes to join us," she gestured across the line of achingly beautiful women before adding, "As one of your wives."

"Oh," he grunted. He then took a deep breath and allowed his eyes to return to Kendra's hopeful gaze. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel that this is something you have to do. You're welcome to stay with us regardless, for as long as you like."

"I know that," she replied warmly, her Scottish brogue coming through in force. "And, aye, I wish to stay with ye." She took a breath before adding, "And I want to be with ye. All of ye."

He smiled and enthused, "That's great!" He then lowered his voice and added, "We'd love to have you, honey. I just want to make sure this is what you want as well."

She nodded fervently, so he offered his hand to her intending to brush his lips across her knuckles formally. She closed the distance between them rapidly, bypassing his hand altogether to wrap her arms tightly around him. He returned her desperate embrace, albeit with a bit less rib-endangering force, and kissed the top of her head. She gazed up at him longingly allowing him to drop his lips to hers.

She sighed into their kiss, opening her lips to him unhesitatingly. He felt his eagerness spike in response to her unabashed desire, causing his cock to harden between them. She tilted her head to the side, deepening their kiss as she blindly reached for his hardening cock. He groaned in ecstasy when her hand found his hardness and quickly began to stroke him.

He broke their kiss panting, "My God."

"Ye have no idea," she whispered as she dropped to her knees in the sand. She continued to stroke him as she eyed him hungrily before murmuring, "I've wanted to do this for so long."

Before he could formulate a reply, she stuck out her tongue and playfully flicked the tip of his penis. He gasped helplessly before stammering, "That's what you've been waiting to do?"

She smirked and said, "Sorry, couldn't resist," before surrounding his manhood with her lips and taking him to the entrance of her throat.

He scarcely heard the amused chuckle of his wives at his reaction, but they quickly faded into the background as his entire world became the slick heat of Kendra's mouth. He slid his hands through her hair, pushing her strawberry blonde tresses back so he could gaze into her eyes. She moaned in appreciation as his gaze found hers, sending pleasure giving vibrations along the length of his pulsing member.

"Christ, that feels incredible," he hissed.

She pulled back and gifted him with a playful smirk before saying, "You have many remarkable qualities, sir." She caressed his manhood slowly before adding, "And, I have to say that I'm quite pleased to discover that possessing a magnificent cock is first among those qualities."

He gazed down at her and said, "You're pretty magnificent yourself, honey."

"See," Lulu interjected. "Haven't we been telling you how amazing your spear is?"

He startled at her interruption, causing her to chuckle in reply. Confusion started to fill his features as he said, "What am I missing? Why aren't you ladies joining in?

"It's your turn, my love," Talisa said coquettishly as she approached him to alluringly run her tongue along his earlobe.

"Huh?" he stammered in reply.

She quirked an eyebrow before reaching over to run a finger along Kendra's smooth lower lips, causing the shorter woman's legs to buckle momentarily as she sighed in pleasure. She lifted the finger to her mouth, licking it lewdly before saying, "What do you think we were doing while you were sleeping all day?"

"I'm not sure this isn't a mistake," George muttered, causing the women before him to look at him with a mixture of worry and regret. He hastened to add, "I meant, I think shacking up with the four sexiest broads in the known universe is going to kill me."

Kendra's look of sorrow quickly turned to one of desire. "Then ye will die happy."

"Damn right," he huffed as he scooped her into his arms and headed for the loungers on which the women had been sunning themselves.

He laid her down reverently before positioning himself between her invitingly widespread legs. Before he could manage to ask a final time for her consent, she nodded eagerly and reached out to grip his manhood to align him with her entrance. A groan of pleasure exploded from her lips as he sank into her silken embrace.

"Gods, ye feel good," she whispered.

"So do you," he replied softly as he gazed in wonder at her spectacular body.

With each thrust of his hips, her breasts heaved alluringly. Her fingers danced enticingly along his flanks offering silent encouragement. He felt the slight pressure of her fingertips as her hands slid around him and he knew her desires instinctively. He dipped his head to her left breast, tracing the tip of his tongue along the outer edge of her areola. She groaned with a mixture of pleasure and longing as he kept his tongue intentionally away from her nipple.

Her whispered, "Please," reached his ears over the roaring surf as he switched to offer the same treatment to her other breast.

He gazed up at her teasingly and waited for her to speak again. Just as she opened her lips to complain, he thrust his hips home with increased vigor and captured her turgid nipple between his lips. Her inner walls clamped around him in response and he felt the surge of her first release deep in her core.

As her pleasure receded, she gazed up at him severely and said, "I should punish ye for that."

"I will gladly accept the court's wisdom and I trust the penalty will fit the crime." He declared formally. He then glanced down to where they were still joined and said, "In fact..."

He pulled regretfully from her silken embrace and slid down her body to nestle between her widespread thighs.

"You think to bribe the court?" she queried playfully.

"Do you think it'll work?" he murmured before teasing a gasp from her as he gently flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue.

"Aye..." she sighed as he licked daintily along her glistening slit before once again flicking her clit.

He pleasured her languidly, respecting the fact that she had just orgasmed and just enjoying the opportunity to get to know her remarkable body. He did not fail to notice the excited hitch in her breath when he started a lengthy lick along her slit below her entrance. Seeking to explore that reaction further, he started the next stroke of his tongue even lower, bare millimeters from her anus. He was rewarded with a desperate whimper in response.

When he teased her puckered star, she moaned softly and whispered, "Yes."

George smiled triumphantly into her puffy pussy as he repeatedly licked along her slit toward her clit, each stroke beginning at her enticing asshole hole and ending at her swollen pleasure bud. He continued like this for several minutes as she slowly climbed back toward the precipice.

She surprised him, however. Just as he felt her wetness begin to surge, she stammered, "I need ye inside me, George." He nodded agreeably and, with a final flick of his tongue on her clit, began to rise up along her body. But she shook her head and said, "No. I want to be on me knees."

"Your wish is my command," he declared as he stood.

She quickly rolled over and assumed her desired position before glancing over her shoulder at him and beckoning him closer with a raised eyebrow. He knelt on the lounger upon which she awaited him and gripped her hips firmly.

George had seen Kendra naked more times than he could count. Between the shared showers on the Tydirium, the frequent nudity around the compound and the pool aboard the Executor he had had endless opportunity to gaze upon her unclothed form. But it was not until this moment that he truly appreciated how marvelously perfect her ass was. Its size was perfectly suited to her body; its shape would make a social media influencer green with envy; the flawless creaminess of her skin nearly caused him to mindlessly sink his face between her cheeks.

He broke out of his stupor however, when he heard a particularly loud moan drown out the crashing waves behind him. He looked over to spot Lulu and Talisa energetically 69-ing on the neighboring lounger.

"Are ye gonna stare at it," Kendra drawled. "Or are ye gonna fuck it?"

"Were I to fail to appreciate such magnificence, I wouldn't deserve to look at you much less make love to you."

"Such a charmer," she murmured sincerely before gesturing to her ass with a tilt of her head.

He grinned in response before aligning himself with her entrance and sinking into her waiting heat.

"Fuck," he hissed as he kneaded her ass while building up a steady rhythm. "You're incredible."

"Aye," was all Kendra managed to reply as Jariana decided to join the fun and sat before her with her legs spread wide.

Kendra ducked her head to taste her new partner, causing Jariana to throw her head back in ecstasy. George savored the sight before him as he continued to quicken his strokes. In no time, his long delayed orgasm was imminent.

Just as he began to speak a word of warning, Jariana smiled and murmured, "She is eager for your seed, my love."

Kendra mumbled her agreement without pausing her efforts. Beside them, he heard Lulu and Talisa's combined moans grow louder as their efforts to pleasure each other neared their own conclusion. He felt his balls boiling, eager for release and he gave into that most primal of instincts. Ramming his hips home a final time, he groaned loudly as his orgasm consumed him in seemingly endless waves of pleasure. He could not count the number of times his body spasmed, each new jolt a harbinger for another eruption of his molten seed deep in Kendra's womb.

Spent, he collapsed forward to wrap his arms around her. She abandoned her feast between Jariana's flawless thighs, turning to accept the passionate kiss he offered. He felt Jariana move from beneath them, but his world for the moment was consumed with the alluring Scot in his arms.

As their lips parted, she whispered, "Thank ye, George."

"It is I who should thank you, dear lady. You were... are... magnificent."

"Couldn't have said it better meself."

He smiled and extracted himself from her silken embrace to drop onto the lounger beside them. Before Kendra could join him, however, she was doubly assaulted from the rear. Talisa and Lulu playfully fought for position at Kendra's creamy slit, each trying to one-up the other in their bid to lap up their waiting treat. George groaned in amazement as the two beauties licked and slurped until every trace had been harvested. They then began lewdly sharing their prize between them, sloppily kissing with occasional breaks to lap up the escaped dollops of his essence from their spectacular breasts.

"Fuck, that's hot," Geroge stammered.

His oath quickly turned into a groan as Jariana took his sensitive cock into her mouth and started to stroke him with her tongue and lips. His hips bucked at the tiny sensations she sent through his body as she swallowed the cum which remained on his still throbbing cock.

"Oh God," Kendra gasped. "I'm cumming!" moments after Talisa and Lulu finished cleaning each other up and concentrated in earnest on pleasuring the beautiful blonde.

Kendra's back arched in ecstasy as pleasure coursed through her body under their combined ministrations.

George tried to keep his eyes on his blonde lover, but Jariana made it impossible to focus on anything except the exquisite sensation of her loving mouth on his cock. He sank back in the chair and tried his very best to commit the scene of the four devastating beauties engaged in an act that was at once lascivious and sensual. Jariana with her runway-worthy looks languidly making love to his manhood with her mouth; the Highlands beauty Kendra, barely able to keep herself from collapsing thanks to the efforts of her lovers; the achingly alluring warrioress Lulu along with the spectacularly sexy Talisa who had found history's most perfect combination of sloppily making out and expertly performing cunnilingus.

Kendra noticed his gaze and stumbled in his direction, not even bothering to stand. She reached him and murmured, "I wasn't finished with ye."

"We have our whole lives," he replied comfortingly.

"Aye," she agreed. "But I still want yer cock in me arse."

He grinned and said, "Well who am I to refuse a beautiful woman?"

Jariana reached into a bag George had not noticed previously beside the lounger and produced a bottle of lube.

He stared at her in amazement and whispered, "Where did that come from?"

"One of these days, dear husband," she replied teasingly. "You'll learn to not question the ways of the Goddess."

"You are my goddess," he replied reverently. "All of you."

"Good answer," Kendra interjected as she straddled his thighs facing his other wives.

Jariana applied a liberal amount of lube to his cock while she pleasured Kendra's clit with her tongue. Job complete, she rose out of the way so Kendra could position herself above him. He allowed her to control her descent, supporting her hips as she leaned back above him.

"Dear God, that feels good," he hissed as her puckered star belatedly expanded to admit his throbbing manhood.

Once he was fully sheathed, his other wives quickly found ways to join the fun. Jariana rose above them all, capturing Kendra's face between her mile-long thighs to allow the bawdy blonde to pleasure her pussy. Talisa knelt between George's thighs, alternating her attention between his balls and Kendra's clit while at the same time frenetically fucking her own pussy with three fingers. Lulu sat on George's face, gazing down at him lovingly as he thrust his tongue into her core and reached up to play with her tits.

Their passion quickly skyrocketed as each lover focused the entirety of their being on giving maximum pleasure. George feverishly flicked Lulu's swollen pleasure bud and pinched her nipples, drinking down the nectar that flowed from her core. At the same time, he thrust with every bit of energy remaining in his body into Kendra's tantalizingly tight ass.

It was impossible to tell who lost themselves to orgasm first since the rest followed within microseconds. George felt himself filling Kendra's clenching ass as Lulu squirted on his face. Their pleasure quickly receded, due in large part to their combined fatigue, and they fell together in a heap with George as its foundation. He did not quite manage to kiss each of his wives and tell them just how truly he loved them before sleep claimed them, but he felt confident he had all the time in the world to make certain they knew to the depths of their being just how strongly he felt about each of them.

Epilogue

"How's our ETA looking?" George asked nervously.

"Would you guys lighten up," Zelda snapped irritably.

"Excuse me?" he replied in confusion.

"I swear. Every five minutes someone's bugging me to find out when you'll be home. I'm about to shut off everyone's coms until you land. Which, and I'll only tell you this once, will be in forty-one minutes, plus or minus four."

"Out of curiosity, who has been bothering you the most?"

"You mean other than Heath?"

"Well, obviously," George replied, chuckling at the thought of the gangly six-year-old who had quickly become best friends with the AI once he had been fitted with an earpiece the previous year.

"How go the preparations for the party?" he asked, happy to change the subject.

"They are on schedule, to the best of my knowledge."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Zelda sighed wearily (a sound which, along with all other unspellable communication, she had mastered over the preceding seven years) and grumbled, "Your wives will be the death of me."

"My wives?" George replied with a laugh, "or Talisa?"

"Like you need to ask," Zelda snapped. "She's constantly coming up with new ideas, which her Goddess absolutely requires."

"Are you implying she is not, in fact, in personal contact with her deity of choice?"

"Perish the thought," Zelda huffed. "I don't begrudge her whatever belief structure makes her happy. I just wish she, or her Goddess if you insist, would practice a bit of forethought. The party starts in an hour. At some point, logically, we'll have to stop planning and start partying."

"Just break out the hooch and I'm sure everyone will settle down."

"Don't you think I suggested that?" Zelda groaned. "They refuse to do anything until you arrive. I'm not entirely certain there is universal agreement in the need for you to have made an appearance at the solstice celebration in Metropolis."

"It wasn't just about the celebration," George complained. "I had to resolve these seemingly endless issues with our new flagship."

"I suspect you could have handled it remotely."

"Perhaps, but so much is riding on this. I just had to make sure."

"I know," Zelda replied sagely.

Their conversation lapsed into silence as George once again lost himself in thoughts about his most ambitious project yet. The Enterprise, as he had dubbed the eighty-seven-meter destroyer, was going to be the most advanced warship ever conceived. In addition to the standard armament for twenty-first century warships it was also to be equipped to carry (and serve as a platform for) Zelda's latest brain-child: drones fashioned in the image of the angels of Christian myth which targeted the leaders of slaving operations before pronouncing that they were doing the Lord's work and leaving the remaining crew alive to tell the tale. It was meant to take the fight, such that it was, to their enemy along the coast of north Africa. As George had decreed in his last address to the loose confederation of tribes stretching from former-Maine to former-Mexico City which made up their burgeoning nation, he would not rest until the slave trade had been completely destroyed.

Zelda interrupted his thoughts saying, "Fair warning. Lulu intends to once again insist that she be allowed to lead the African expedition."

"Of course," he groaned.

"I told you at the time that decision would come back to haunt you."

"What was I supposed to do?" George complained. "That Portuguese captain was a cataclysmic asshole, not to mention a raging misogynist. He deserved his fate."

The memory of the event in question popped with perfect clarity into his head. A room filled with two opposing groups who were bitter enemies. On one side stood several hundred stinking proto-Conquistadors standing behind their diminutive and, as it turned out, fatally arrogant leader. On the other, George and his Valkyrie-like wives backed by a dozen war chiefs, each of whom had a silent War Dog sitting menacingly at their side. The Portuguese leader had called out George, challenging him to single combat. George's dismissal had been drowned out by Lulu's eager acceptance of the challenge. In the moment, the thought of the pitiful excuse for a man being bested by one of the women he had so insultingly dismissed had seemed so fitting. And, in truth, it had been gloriously satisfying to watch Lulu effortlessly dispatch the wretched slaver. It was only later that it became apparent that Lulu would forevermore insist on being the tip of the spear for their miliary efforts.

"He did indeed," Zelda agreed. "And, in truth, Lulu is unquestionably your best war captain. For what it's worth, I support her petition to lead the expedition."

"I know. And my opposition has nothing to do with her gender. I just have to find the right words to somehow convey the fact that she's pregnant with our first child should mean she's on the bench with respect to the war effort for a while."

"Good luck," Zelda replied comfortingly.

George's frustration was quickly dimmed by the sight of the sprawling Freeport coming into view on the horizon. Now stretching nearly a dozen kilometers along the banks of the river which was now universally referred to as the Savannah, the city had nearly ten thousand permanent residents. The skies were dotted with all manner of Zelda's creations, both lighter-than-air and rotary-wing craft. Even busier was the river itself, which had all manner of surface traffic. The roads which Zelda's creations never stopped paving, now stretched for five-hundred kilometers in every possible direction.

Moments later, the Serenity 12 came in for a gentle landing. As George departed from the craft, he looked up to see a large group had assembled. Off to the left stood Rachel, who was in her third term as mayor of Freeport. She had brought her entire family (currently comprised of five husbands, two wives, and their three sets of eighteen-month-old twin daughters born within two weeks of each other) to greet him. George gave them a welcoming smile before glancing off to the right at his own family. The glowing Lulu, now six-months pregnant, stood with Talisa at the center. In the latter's arms, she held Jariana's two-year-old son (lest the excitable youngster dash towards certain injury in the busy sky-port). Her protégé stood to her left, flanked by her six-year-old son and four-year-old daughter. Kendra was kneeling beside their four-year-old daughter, apparently answering one of the perpetually curious child's endless questions.

George dashed toward his family and was quickly engulfed by their love. Kisses were handed out until everyone was satisfied he had been properly welcomed home. He belatedly made his way over to the smiling Rachel, who also welcomed him with a kiss which caused the fit of his trousers to be momentarily compromised. Their relationship was one unlike anything he had known previously. They had never repeated the tryst they, if not enjoyed then at the very least experienced, onboard the Executor, nor did either have any desire to. They had instead shifted back to a version of what they had experienced prior to having sex: a relationship which was consistently charged with a sexual tension neither had the slightest interest in exploring. More importantly, they had become the closest of friends and there was little doubt he trusted her more than anyone on earth to whom he was not married.

"Welcome home," she murmured as their lips parted.

"Thanks," he replied warmly. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing that requires immediate attention. Do I need a reason to welcome my friend home?"

"Of course not."

"Besides. We were here for the party anyway. I heard Zelda figured out how to make tequila."

"It wasn't a matter of figuring it out," Zelda interjected. "The problem is that you insist that the replicated version tastes... how did you put it?"

"Like goat piss mixed with rotten garbage," Rachel supplied.

"Indeed. Well, our expeditions have made it far enough into the southwest that they brought back some agave."

"That's great!" Rachel enthused. "When's the party start?"

George grinned and said, "As soon as we get home."

***

Hours later, after the children had been put to bed, George found himself lounging next to the indoor pool which adjoined their expansive residence. Along with his wives and Rachel's family were several of the close friends he had made among the tribes who made up their young nation. As was their custom when en familia, clothes were discouraged to make for easier use of the pool. This rarely led to intimacy, although such occurrences were far from unheard of and certainly not discouraged.

George climbed from the pool and, after quickly toweling himself dry, walked to the couch where his wives awaited him with hungry eyes. They made space for him in the middle, and he sank down between Talisa and Kendra.

The former reached out to grip his manhood and said, "We have decided you are no longer permitted to, what did you call it, go on a work trip."

"I was only gone four days," he protested.

"And to whom did you look to relieve the terrible pressure of your manly seed during your lengthy absence?"

"You know I would never cheat on you ladies."

"I know," she replied sultrily. "My concern is that you went unfulfilled."

"All she's saying, love," Kendra intoned in her completely charming brogue, "Is that ye should always take one of us with ye. Or more than one."

"What about the kids?"

"That's the beauty of havin' four wives," she replied quickly as her hand joined Talisa's on his penis. "Always plenty of lovely lasses around to watch after yer brood."

"Fine," he agreed. "From now one I'll make sure to take at least one of you when I go out of town."

"That includes your trip to Africa," Jariana interjected, her languid make-out session with Lulu clearly not having prevented her from overhearing.

"That's different," he objected.

"Why?" Lulu snapped. "Because it might be dangerous?"

"Well... yeah."

"Do you honestly think we're more willing to accept you being in danger than the other way around?" Talisa asked pointedly. She gripped his shaft firmly and added, "Do you think having one of these makes you more capable?"

"Of course not," he admitted. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

"I love you. All of you. I was never happy until I came here. Now? All of my dreams have come true. I've got love, and happiness, in spades. I've got an amazing family. And it's all because of the four most loving, nurturing, caring, wise, sexy, bawdy, lusty, amazing women in history. Nothing on earth is more important to me than the safety and happiness of my family. Don't you see how much easier it is for me to accept danger to myself than it is for me to knowingly put any of you in danger?"

Talisa kissed his cheek and murmured, "Of course, we do. And we feel the same way. Just promise us that we'll be part of the planning. And that if..."

"When," Lulu muttered.

"When we find that one of our particular set of skills happens to perfectly suit our mission, don't exclude us just because you love us."

"Or because ye can't get enough of watching us lick yer cum off each other," Kendra added with a chuckle.

"I do indeed enjoy that," he admitted with an unhurried tweak of her nipple. "But that's not why I love you."

"I know," she replied with a grin. "That's just an added perk for the greatest liberator in human history." She paused to take a breath before continuing loudly, "To George Durham, first of his name; Prime Minister of the Aligned Peoples of Terra; eradicator of slavery; champion of equal rights; protector of the weak; fan of big tits; strong proponent of watchin' his wives swallow his seed; gifted leader; exquisite lover; and, without question, the best man in history."

"Hear, hear," a shouted toast went up from many in attendance.

George glanced around to see several raised drinks. He felt his cheeks color in embarrassment at the attention. But, as he started to object, he realized he could not honestly quibble with anything she had said save the last statement (which he surely felt was a bit biased). The remarkable part, at least in his mind, was that he had indeed accomplished a feat which even he had thought impossible more times than he could count. Even if he and his entire family boarded the Tydirium the next morning and were never heard from again, the world would still be fundamentally altered for the better. The genocide which had taken place in his past was all but impossible now. If anything, he spent more time now trying to prevent the nation he led from deciding nothing stood in the way of them conquering the entire world, considering their significant technological advantage. Slavery would soon be a relic of the past, just as the unimpeachable power of the Catholic church had already been mortally wounded.

He had never heard from Heath after his friend left to explore the future. He chose to believe this was because the future they had envisioned had indeed come to pass, and that his friend had finally found what he sought in a future which was, at least to a degree, better inoculated against the scourge of organized religion.

Before his thoughts could spiral out of control, or his wives could grow too frustrated with him for becoming distracted while they teased him with their spectacularly naked bodies, Zelda's voice filled the room with a countdown, starting at twenty.

"Last chance to do something crazy in the fourteen hundreds!" Rachel proclaimed loudly.

George smiled at his wives and said, "How 'bout it, ladies? You ready for the sixteenth century?"

Talisa and Kendra snuggled close around him, kissing his shoulders and neck. Jariana did the same to her mentor as Lulu stood and came to sit on his lap. His hand rested on her baby bump as he looked up at her lovingly. She smiled warmly and murmured, "More than ready," before lowering her head to capture his lips as the countdown reached zero.

The End

Thanks so much for taking the time to read George's tale. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave a review.

New World Man

by Jake Lazarus

Copyright © 2023 Jake Lazarus

All rights reserved.

This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the author (except for the use of brief quotations in a review).

This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, business, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.