Hooded figures like carrion birds grim,

Circled the altar in the room most dim,

The embodiment of purity lay chained,

To the sacrificial stone,

She felt abandoned and alone,

The only God who ruled this place,

Was the great idol above the altar,

It's eldritch visage enough to make,

Even an angel falter,

It stood over all sinister & stark,

Through graven eyes it observed this rite most dark,

The high priest stood clutching naked blade above naked breast,

The red hoods were still as the tomb, waiting to send the virgin to her final rest,

"Now young heart", the priest did cry,

"It is time for you die!"

One of the crimson hoods flung back,

To reveal a black haired man,

His skin was richly tan,

He gripped a sword ready to attack,

He lunged forward like a spawn of hell,

His sword danced gracefully,

And one by one the cultists fell,

He saved the high priest for last,

The head was clove from the shoulders,

The maiden was aghast,

The torches burned like the abyss,

The swordsman released his breath in a hiss,

The floor was littered with the dead,

He spied the idol and gave a shudder,

He looked upon the girl and severed her chains,

He covered her with the cloak he wore,

She tried to thank him but could only mutter,

"Let's leave this vile place " he said.

Through the woods shrouded in the stygian darkness of night the young woman ran, her slender, petite frame racing for dear life. Her ginger hair which was riddled with natural curls was tossed to and fro by her panicked movements.

Out of breath she stopped and inhaled deeply. Sweat dribbled down her back which, along with her arms, legs, and cleavage her brown fur dress left exposed. She grasped her wooden staff in her hands.

The staff was made of a sturdy wood and it curved at the top similar to a shepherd's crook but with a less dramatic arc. From that shor curve hung to bright blue feathers.

Daidra was a former druid running from her past. She'd left her order after they went mad. She'd seen too many innocents destroyed upon alters in sacred groves to satiate the dark appetites of unseen things!

Her bond with nature and the spiritual plane she carried with her like that staff. This love of nature would never be far from her, for she was of elvish blood though distantly. This was mostly seen not only by her 4 foot seven inch stature but also by her ears with tapered to the slightest point!

The woman caught her breath at last and continued running through the forest. She tripped and cursed the infernal fiends that her order served. The tried to rise but her pursuer caught up to her a figure made of shadow blacker than even the night time woodland around her.

The being grew closer, its red eyes staring into Daidra's soul! "You'll never be able to run far enough." it said.

Daidra had closed her eyes and when she opened them she was laying beneath a beautiful tree with the sunny beaming down upon her freckled face. She lifted herself to a sitting position and cleared the cobwebs from her mind. The dream again.

She stood up and brushed leaves from her curly hair and dress, gathered her walking stick and continued her journey through the woods. Where was she headed? To a destiny she was not aware of.

Three hours had passed since she had resumed her journey. She stopped to pick some berries and claimed onto a large slab of rock to eat. Daidra

remained perched on the ancient boulder for quite awhile lost in troubled introspection.

The sound of footsteps coupled with gleeful humming reached her ears. A man approached. She tensed. He looked up at her she looked down at him. He was talker than her but not by much. He was routund but not obese. He was bald with hair on the sides and back of his head but none on top. This and his height were the result of poor genetics. The back of his hair was grown out and unkempt. His face was framed by a beard.

As to his wardrobe he wore a sleeved shirt and a gambeson, dark pants and metal knee guards. His feet were adorned with boots that cuffed at the top of the ankle. A sword, lethal and well used hung on his hip. This was all that he needed. He was no frontline soldier; he was a wandering woodsman and occasionally a mercenary.

The man's green eyes almos the same shade of green as the quilted armor on his chest, stayed fixed on the fur clad redhead sitting on the rocks.

"Who are you?" the woman asked.

"My name is Joss. I am merely a wanderer making my way through these woods. I live here practically though I'm elsewhere bound."

"My name is Daidra. I would describe myself in much the same manner, Sir Joss!"

The man smiled. "Well it's been a long time since anybody called me Sir. I'm no knight at least not anymore. I was a paladin once but I left that behind long ago."

This revelation piqued the curiosity within the stray druid. "What are you now?"

"Now my blade is for hire."

"You are a sell-sword!"

"Yes."

"I'm a druid or at least I was. I abandoned the order and here I sit."

"What makes a druid leave order?"

"That's a long & lurid tale."

"Daidra, if you'll journey with me I'd be glad to lend an ear to your plight."

She thought that over. "A sword might be good have close at hand."

With that she jumped down from the rock and the two trekked side by side.

She aired her laundry to him about her flight from the order and the horrendous sacrifices she'd witness to malevolent entities that stalked the ancient woodlands. Joss secretly vowed to eradicate those particular druids if he ever got the chance.

Daidra learned her companion was not just a fighter, but a philosopher and outdoorsman as well. He was a most... interesting person. Something swelled up inside her.

It was dusk when they finally stopped for the day. They rested under a tree and ate lightly. Joss told Daidra a story he'd made up for entertainment. It was amazingly descriptive and engaging. All the while he stared with alert eyes at the woods around them. He was watching for bandits, wolves, and other dangers.

"You know Daidra, I travel a lot. It's mostly because I don't like getting close to folks too long. I've had some bad experience with that."

It was a sudden thought, a very candid thought that made her realize they were both to people who'd been alone for a long time. It was that spark that set the fire within both of them ablaze!

"Stand up, Joss." She ordered softly.

Bemused the rugged merc complied. She wrapped him in her arms still clutching her staff. She kissed him for what seemed like an eternity! The staff dropped and she shoved Joss against the tree. She unfastened the buckles of his gambeson & cast it off! Next she removed his shirt and felt his copius body hair. He was a man of the forest indeed.

Her hands felt pleasant against his skin and he began to sweat and he felt his manhood beginning to swell. He slid his hands up both her arms and lifted her fur dress' neck loop over her head. This caused her garment to drop down partially exposing her breasts and torso.

Joss pressed her body to his and kissed her and felt her exposed skin. She dropped her garment around her ankles and began tearing at his beautiful to remove his pants. Now they tumbled to the grass full nude and also fully engorged.

Boots were the last thing to be removed. Joss cupped Daidra's breasts with his hands and he realized it had been a while since he clutched anything in his hands that wasn't a survival tool or a blood stained sword handle. He tell she had elf in her and this gave her an exotic quality that caused his erection to pulse with pleasure. She felt of it with those soft hands and he grunted in pleasure.

At last she opened herself up to him and placed his erect manhood within her. She loved the sensation of her body moving back and forth with the the thrust of her lovers hips.

After what seemed like an eternity she put her arms on her lover's back and her fingers dug in. She through her head back and moaned. Joss gave one final thrust and felt his seed pass from his organ into her body.

They laid naked for awhile and eventually fell asleep. Birds chirped happily the next day. Daidra rose up and stretched. She stood still with a smile on her face as she let the sun touch her naked skin. Being part elf however small a part it was she enjoyed on occasion frolicking in the nude through the forest.

She turned finally to the task of donning her clothes. The former druid was just tying her medicine pouch to her waist with her rope that served as a belt when Joss finally decided put his clothes back on too. Once finished he embraced her and rubbed her exposed back gently.

"Enough," she said giving him a soft shove. "We better start our journey again before we start having more sex."

So they set forth. They were to hearts brought together in wandering. Neither seemed alone anymore. This liason they'd had wasn't a cheap fling. No they were one now having opened themselves up to each other and mated before the eyes of the Chief Divine.

A few days later they splashed and played with each other as they bathed naked in a river. Just as they were about to begin a hot session in the water a giant carnivorous reptile leaped from the crystal waters. The love birds scrambled to the shore both scooped up their weapons and faced the giant alligator like beast before them.

Daidra having a strong connection with nature bopper the deadly brute on the nose with her staff. Then standing her ground the muttered something in a language Joss didn't know! She must be trying to pacify the beast through some mystical means.

It didn't take and the predator lunged and Joss with a fierce cry ran the reptile through the tip of his blade going through the skull.

Daidra stared at the slain beast. A light recognition blazed in her sapphire eyes. "I know this creature," she said. "Its meat is good to eat."

"I'll harvest us some." replied Joss.

"First, said Daidra with an impish grin there is something else to take care of."

She walked over and tackled him to the ground then she mounted his crotch. Her body moved up and down in a sensual rhythm and he placed his hands on her still wet hips. Her breasts bounced slightly with her motion and her hair was still wet and clung to her head. He began breathing harder and she bounced harder until the closed her eyes and threw her head back and moaned in the throes of her orgasm. She lifted herself of and rolled over on her back beside her mate. "Twice now we've carried out copulation and I know you've planted your seed in my garden Joss. We've known each other before the Chief Divine. At the next town we come to we must make our bond official."

"It shall be done, my love! Let us make this premarital intercourse right before our diety."

And so it was that upon entering the next town the lovers sealed their bond and consummated their feelings a third time. Joss found work as an armed escort for a wealthy merchant. week later! "I shall return Daidra."

"And I shall wait here for you for how the life blood be pumped through me when I have only half my heart!"

Mr. Jeff Gruber lay on the side walk below in a pool of his own blood having fell head first from the window of third story apartment. Framed in the window was a man who could have passed as the twin brother to the corpses on the side walk! As Jeff Gruber looked the body below he wondered: if you kill the parallel universe counterpart of yourself is it murder or suicide?

Life like music contains ostinatos, repeated patterns. These patterns are habits, cycles or even our day-to-day routines that melt into a monotonous sludge. Some patterns -- such as the water cycle--have echoed throughout the ages.

Her name was Sonia. She wandered the wastes that had marked the culmination of savagery and decadence carefully concealed in the shadows of neon delights and television screens.

The woman woke up and sat on a large rock protruding from the sands. Groggily she ran a gloved hand through her mess of fire colored locks. Said hair was cutshort and swept over to one side of her face. It was always unkempt.

The sun kissed the parts of her body left bare by the sleevless leather top she wore. It exposed her arms lower torso and back. In truth the thing was more some leather version of a sports bra than a shirt. Completing her look of a lone survivor was a leather arm gaurd over her left appendage that ended in a metal gauntlet, a glove and shoulder pad on her otherwise bare right arm and tattered pants. Over the right knee was hole that revealed old scars. Over the other knee a spiked knee pad, its mate lost somewhere among the ruins of everything.

Sonia whose face had been made older than her 32 years adjusted the straps of her leather boots and swigged down a beer from a glass bottle. In a world with polluted water such things were a luxury with the questionable marketing ploys of a certain brand having ceased to be relevant long ago if it ever was in the first place! She looked down at her traveling companion, the cybernetic dog curled up in hibernation mode at her feet. "Up & at 'em boy!" She said.

The dog sat up immediately among a clicking of gyros and pistons. Sonia strapped her long-sword with the ornately forged hookended blade to her back and the apocalyptic duo to took up their journey once again to a destination somewhere on the horizon, an ebony tower barley discernable in the distance.

Daily she could feel it or someone therein calling to her. "You've walked these roads before in ages lost. Numerous yous have made the same never-ending journey."

"Numerous mes? What are you talking about; who are you!"

"Come hither if you'd have that answer, Daughter of Man."

And she saw the image of that stygian citadel bathed in a mystical aurora. For weeks she'd trekked toward it, knowing the way by some wierd instinct. Along the way she'd faced many hazards and many men had fallen to her weapon. She was quite proficient with that blade and though her female body may not have had the physical advantages of most of her opponents she never tried to out fight what she couldn't out think. This had brought her victory and survival.

And many hundreds of years ago a much different Sonia clad in chainmail and hide leathers and helmet, brandishing an axe walked through a desolate forest with her wolfdog toward a mysterious cycle of death and rebirth that would echo throughout untold ages.

Like a knife through butter the craft entered the atmosphere of Rudax 1, a large planet that was comprised of a continent sized city and smaller land masses devoted to the agroarts.

The ship was shaped like an arrowhead within for wings jutting out of both sides. Affixed to the wing tips were solar cells in the form of acute triangles, the tips pointing straight ahead of the craft.

Inside the cockpit which was wrapped in a latticework of metal, sat the lone pilot of this single man freighter. He grunted as the crowded spaceport came into view. If he wasn't so worn out from the month he'd spent on this job he wouldn't even have bothered landing on Rudax 1.

He smoked the occasional cigar and could swear with the best of them if pushed to that point but he still lived something of a moral code. That code had led him to pass up several lucrative smuggling jobs and it was that selfsame code that balked at the decadence found in these large city planets.

The pilot rubbed his eyes and looked briefly behind his captain's chair at the cramped space where he kept his freight. It was empty. There was nothing there except for the stains of grease and various unnamed fluids from hauls past.

He'd converted the large storage unit in the starboard bulkhead into his sleeping quarters which consisted of one soiled bed and a picture of an old flame that had left him with the taste of unrequited love.

One more night here and he'd be heading home for the month he had off.

The ship docked and was inspected and soon the pilot was asleep. It must have been about the early morning hours by the measure of time upon Rudax 1. The sky was a creamy orange and the port was silent as a tomb. The pilot climbed out of bed and cast a quick look at a nearby Chrono reader. It was the day when worship of the Light Lord was worshiped all across the galaxy. A man of this faith himself, the pilot threw on his leather jacket,exited his freighter, and sat out to find a holy place. Passing the port side of his ship he gave one the solar cells–the point of which now faced towards the sky in the landing position – a customary pat.

How long he'd walked down the bustling street pacing humanity in all its space bred forms when a particular edifice demanded his attention. A golden dome at the top that was wrapped in a holographic banner that flashed the name, Church of the Holy Light in all the galactic languages. The congregation seemed to be filing in. They all wore hooded mantels of deeply colored silk, almost black but somewhat purple as well.

He walked up the entrance and was halted by a person clad in this manner with a theatrical mask on their face. The faux smile seemed positively bizarre in a setting such as this.

"Do you wish to worship us today?" asked the strange figure in an almost robotic tone.

"Yes," replied the pilot.

The man had been holding a stack of the masks and handed one to the pilot.

"We require those who enter to wear one of these."

He put on the face covering with a faux smile like all the others. He took his place among the crowd. The music started with some ancient hymn from a long dead bird. It was beautiful. The dim lights, the artificial smoke, all of it created an ambiance that sat off every chemical in the brain designed to make you feel like a million bucks. The head clergyman spoke in between songs. "Yes, everybody. The Light Lord is gracing us with his presence. Can you not feel it? He is here in all his glory!"

Was he? To the pilot something was different. This didn't feel like the time he'd say with members of the faith face to face having discussion about that galaxy's theology nor the times he'd spent on wilderness planets in the quiet of nature. In those times he'd almost heard the whispers of the divine melody that brought all into existence.

Aside from the display before him and the theater masks something else was noticeable. From the moment he'd walked through the door the pilot's nostrils had met with a pungent floral aroma. He'd been to many holy places but never had he encountered a copious amount of flowers.

Sometime before the clergyman gave his sermon he stepped out to relieve himself. On his way to the men's room he passed by dozens of flowers. There was a mystery here. Whatever was going on in this place was not genuine. He planned to quietly slip out the door.

So caught up in these thoughts and the perfume of the flowers which was making him dizzy that he bumped into a member of the congregation that was walking down the velvet corridor. The mask was knocked off that person's face and in that moment the pilot let out a startled cry.

Staring back at him was a face marred unspeakably by decay. The sudden commotion had interrupted the services and the crowd had come to see what was the matter.

"He's a dead walker! exclaimed the pilot. They all removed their own masks. They stood revealed as the zombies they were. Now he understood the purpose of the flowers to mask the stench. He threw his own mask off and bolted for the door. He ran through the streets weaving and pushing his way through the denizens of the port city. There was no life in that chapel on living death shrouded in ritual and theatrics.

The tavern was not crowded this time of evening. Most of the regulars had left and now weary travelers, bounty hunters, and other strangers took their place. Still a few of the day to day clientele hung around as the barkeep lit the gas lanterns and yawned.

One man in particular seemed to be a constant fixture at the bar. He had aged significantly though he was only forty. He stared into his empty glass like it was a scrying pool.

He would occasionally turn his head to scan the newcomers then he would turn his attention to his ale. The barkeep, a rotund fellow with hair the shade of raven wings would always ask him what he was doing and he would always answer that he was waiting for someone.

Eight people, that's how many occupied the tavern now. Eight including the weary man at the bar.

Once he was a paladin, a holy warrior. He'd faced dragons, slaying some, taming others. He had driven the dark mages from the kingdom and had been the mightiest of the knights of this realm.

That all ended one night right here in this very tavern. His glory days came crashing down in a moment of weakness. That weakness had been blonde, voluptuous and friendly. She'd been very friendly in fact.

She was almost hypnotic. He took an instant liking to her and eventually they'd gone into the inn which adjoined the tavern and had coupled together. The moment he planted his seed within her he felt something leave from him and that's when she revealed her true form.

Above him was knelt, not the human female he'd lusted for, but something else entirely. She had all the shape of a woman but her skin was violet, her eyes burned like the sun, horns protruded from her forehead and her skin was no longer warm like that of a human woman but it burned like hell fire.

He knew now what she truly was and she mocked him before disappearing in a puff of smoke. From that day forward he grew weaker and soon his fighting days were behind him. She'd taken part of his soul. He knew that. He also knew it impacted him physically as well.

After loss after loss in combat he visited the temple of Dri The Creator. The wise woman there told him Dri had stripped him of his might and turned his face from him.

Now he could make it alright. She'd be back here someday to claim another victim; he just had to wait. Just as the tavern's proprietar was about to announce last call, she walked through the doors.

The former paladin recognized her instantly. She hadn't aged a day. Of course not, she was incapable of aging. She looked at him and winked taunting him.

He left the bar and walked over to her table. "You look like crap," she stated with a smirk of that variety only a woman can give in malice.

"You know bloody well why," he said.

"I guess that happens when your diety wants nothing to do with you."

Silence filled the void between them then the succubus continued. Your soul was delicious by the way. It was a shame I only got to sample a small morsel of it. Of course we were engaged in other matters."

She smiled devilishly at him. "We could always go back to bed and finish the job."

"I plan to finish it," he said, gripping the hilt of the sword strapped to his hip,"This ends tonight."

"You'd like that wouldn't you? It's not that easy, lover. You know the cambion warlord that's been terrorizing this puny little kingdom as of late?"

"Yes. He uses the blood of those he slays in demonic rituals."

"He's your son."

"You lie,Harlot!"

"Do I really?"

He thought about it for a moment. He knew it to be true.

"Thank you. I know what I must do."

It happened suddenly and swiftly. The torchlight danced off metal and the woman's head toppled to the floor as blood spurted from its fromer place on her neck.

Everyone was shocked and was prepared to take down this murderer when the head and body took on their true forms as the illusion died with the succubus.

The former paladin was grim and silent. He walked out of the tavern and into the night.

A figure in gold armor rode through the countryside all day and all night. He came to the camp of the warlord. He waited until daybreak.

He looked up to the sky. "Dri, I have no reason to expect you to turn your ear to me but please grant me one last request. Give me the strength to set right my terrible sin and the calamity it has brought upon the land."

With that benediction said the paladin set upon his son's camp and slew his soldiers while they still slept. Heavy armored footsteps caught his attention and he turned to face his son who wore a full set of armor sans a helmet and held a giant hammer in his left hand. "Hello, Father. I wondered when we would meet. I sensed Mother's death two nights ago."

"No doubt through your damnable rites."

"Those are smoke and mirrors. Do I really need sacrifices to commune with the citizens of the Netherworld,I who was born in it?"

He now held the hammer with both hands and took up a battle stance. "Let us finish this. I have cities to raze."

There is no need to describe in epic details the clash that ensued. It lasted for five very tense minutes until the hammer caved in the knight's breastplate. With his ebbing strength the holy warrior struck off his son's head.

He collapsed to the ground and lay flat on his back. He looked skyward and saw a woman on a winged horse coming down to take him to Dri's realm as reward for his penance.

A hexagonal,gold coin, one of numerous galactic currencies, spiraled into the air and landed in the palm of a hand clad in a black glove. This had gone on for a half hour as he sat at his selected table.

He was a scruffy looking character with black hair grown out so that it touched the middle portion of his neck. His skin was bronzed and red from life among the elements.

The face told much about him as well. Hard lines did it bear, wrinkles in their infancy. He was most likely in his 40's or late thirties– at least by our measurements of age– and he sure looked the part. His eyes were dark brown and ever alert. His nose was hawklike. This was a man of mystery who was not to be trifled with.

The duster upon his shoulders was the same hue as his hair and gloves. It as well as the silver body armor and brown pants were covered in dust accumulated over a long journey that would end here one way or another.

The stranger's eyes had sized up the interior of the cafe upon his entrance. He made it one of his life's goals not to cross the brutox seated at the booth a few feet behind him. They were a race composed of rock hard bodies of brown, toad-like skin, a gorilla shaped head, four arms and a real nasty attitude.

The only other occupants were a spindly alien from a species he'd never come across and the proprietors of the cafe,an elf-like race that aged slower than normal humans.

The daughters of the elves had taken seats on either side of the stranger. He tolerated this. He knew backwater towns on this planet saw little action and he must have appeared to these dames as one the romantic heroes from one of those mushy stories they liked to read. In truth he was anything but.

He currently put the coin in his duster pocket and sipped some more swill and waited like a hawk. He'd been asked the usual questions and gave vague answers. He was named Orthson–not an alias- and he was from out of town.

When asked whom he was waiting for he jerked his right thumb to a wanted poster on the wall by his table. It read as follows:

Wanted

Jeremiah Pax

For armed robbery, assault, and flight to avoid prosecution.

5,000 frend reward.

Dead or alive.

Along with this information was a photo of a human male who looked like a long haired caricature of a shady reverend or a turkey buzzard from our planet. At this time it should be pointed out that frend was a type of currency and a very valuable one.

" Ah," said Ma."You must be one of those bounty hunter types."

He smiled content to let her think that. He was actually on a mission of vengeance. Pax, who did very little to live up to that last name, which was derived from an ancient Terran word that means peace, had wronged the stranger's sister and he saw within the system a way to have his cake and eat it too! He'd turn over the slimebag to the authorities and live with the satisfaction of knowing he'd done so. Jeremiah Pax would rot in a galactic prison delivered there by the hands of Angie Orthson's brother.

"What makes you think he's going to come here?" asked the Pa.

"Well Sir, I've studied this varmint for a mighty long while. He don't do the smart thing and get lost in crowds.

"He thinks his chances are better in little places like this one which only makes him stick out like…"

Instead of a sore thumb he used a for more course and colorful simile which caused the womenfolk to blush like a dance hall floozy and the Pa to scowl.

"Sorry, folks, I forget myself now and again," the stranger apologized quickly.

The awkward silence that followed for an eternity after that was broken by the entrance of another customer, Pax. He glanced around the cafe & smirked at his wanted poster. He looked just like the photo but now with dark circles under his eyes and sickness that emphasized his vulture-like characteristics. Yes, he looked like a man that was losing a fight with his conscience.

Suddenly he spotted his sworn adversary staring at him with the smile a cat gives before consuming a bird.

He gasped,"You!"

"Yeah,me."

The girls had rejoined their parents. It's a good thing because Jeremiah Pax drew his blaster from its holster and fired. He missed. Orthson whipped out his own one eyed dog and let it bark.

The smell of ozone filled the air and smokey specters danced across the cafe. The other patrons stood in shock and awe even the brutox.

The stranger was still standing. Jeremiah Pax was not.

"That was intense," said Ma, but I guess being a bounty hunter you get used to it."

"Never said I was a bounty hunter," the stranger replied as he grabbed the collar of Pax's jacket and drug the loathsome carcass to the sheriff.

"On which side of the Gulf of dreams do we walk and do we sleep when we think we wake?"_ Robert E. Howard

Chapter 1

It was a rainy evening as I waited for my friend to drop by. She promised to share with me a story so shocking that if she told it to anyone else they would have her declared certifiable and put her in a padded cell. I've always had something more of an open mind & decided to hear her out before I made my conclusion concerning the state of her psyche.

I peered out my living room window as the rain reduced the neon lights outside to squiggly blurs of blues and pinks and oranges. Behind me on my streaming device blared Weird Al Yankovich. The song was "Attack of the radioactive hamsters from a planet near Mars" or some such nonsense. Little did I know that that diddy about outer space would serve as foreshadowing.

Just as I was trying to wrap my head around how I came to live in the city to start with the buzzer to my apartment rang heralding the arrival of my friend, Janet Craddock. She hobbled into my humble abode using the singular crutch she'd been forced to use since a nasty car accident left her with a bum leg.

The crutch was one those more modern ones that clamped around your arm rather than fit under it. Many of us who knew her always asked the gal why she didn't turn it in for a cane. She told us in no certain terms that she wasn't old enough for that crap yet.

Indeed she was in her late twenties with blonde hair; which she took her cap off now to reveal, and blue eyes; which at this moment showed the signs of less than stellar sleep. By her own admission she was plain but she was comfortable with that plainess. She wasn't bending over backwards to make cosmetic companies happy.

Janet put her raincoat on the rack, her cap on top of the chest of drawers beside my entry way and made her way over to the couch and sat down. I slid a foot stool over so she could prop her leg and after I was comfortably seated on the couch across from her I begged her to begin her strange narrative.

"I know you have a dinner engagement," she began with a slight frown,"so I will do my best to condense this down in a way that still makes sense. But how do you fit a month long saga into a few hours?"

I got out of my seat long enough to shut off the music I'd left playing and returned still urging this friend of mine to tell me her story so she began the tale and from this point you will be reading her narrative with little interruption from me.

Chapter 2

We must go back to the night of the car crash that's where it began, really I just didn't realize it at that time. It was rainy then too;as I recall that's what kicked off this whole thing.

People always seem to forget how to drive in the rain. I remember the other vehicle t-boned me hard enough to roll my poor voltzwagon. I don't remember what the other vehicle was or much else except the medical personnel putting me under for tests as I made it to the hospital.

That's when it happened for the first time. I didn't think much of it at the time and chalked it up to the anesthesia. I eventually faded from consciousness as is to be expected but when I came to I wasn't in the hospital I was in some sort of single person vessel hurtling through space.

I could see the stars sailing by like those little bugs that fly past your car windows at night. I realized I had fallen asleep had just woke up from a strange dream. I had been in a vehicle from one thousand years in the past.

I was in a single person exploratory vessel on a three month mission to Earth. Nobody set foot there for centuries. From our high powered telescope on Mars we observed that the land masses had changed and finally our curiosity got the better of us and the Space Force was sent to investigate.

Things went south when a major malfunction on the ship was detected. Rather than scrap the whole mission I volunteered to go to Earth and stay the three months and report back. So I was put into the pod. And well let's not tiptoe through the tulips. I was naked, completely naked.

The pod served as a decontamination chamber to rid my body of germs and microbes foreign to the planet I was traveling to. In this case the planet was of course Earth. We didn't want to introduce Martian germs to Earth and start a plague. You thought our flu was something awful? you don't want to contract the version that developed on Mars after we terraformed it.

Then I fell asleep inside my little pod again there I was back in reality in the hospital. I enjoy Science Fiction as much as the next nerd but I've always had some rather strong opinions on space travel and colonization as you know Walker and I've never shyed away from speaking my mind on the matter. For that reason it was absolutely strange to me that I would dream of being some far future astronaut.

Anyway the nurses and doctors gave the report you know about. That aside from my leg being a snafu I'd come out unscathed. I thank the good Lord for that everyday even when my leg acts up. That night I slept off the rest of the anesthesia and more of the crazy dream followed. I was jarred away by a large jolt and a loud, obnoxious beeping. My pod had touched down. The hatch opened and I got out.

The air was far fresher on Earth than on Mars and and it felt good against my bare skin. Speaking of which I didn't plan on meeting the natives in my birthday clothes.

I opened the compartment behind my seat that would have housed my space suit except some dimwit or person in the throes of excitement about sending me through the cosmos had forgotten to put the suit in the heat proof wrapping. It was melted to my pod from the heat of reentry.

I let out a sigh of frustration and said to myself,"Well Lord, I guess I'm gonna have to walk around like you made me for a while."

Forgetting the lack of wardrobe I turned my attention to the pod itself. The landing had been unkind to it and the communication equipment was out of commission. So there I was naked as a jaybird and cut off from Mars. Oh well, three months would pass and they'd send out the Space Force to retrieve me.

Walking away from the shambles of my pod I noticed the pleasant feel of the grass beneath my feet. I still wasn't fond of my nudity. Much to my amazement I found a tatter of cloth in some tree branches and pulled it down. It was only enough to cover my lower body like a skirt but it would do.

I followed a trail and was met halfway by a group of men and women. I would have been uncomfortable with them seeing me topless if not for the fact that they too were dressed in only skirts and bare chested. Some of the women wore ornate gold plates over their breasts like what you see in a lot of vintage fantasy art. I found out the significance later.

A Christian I was raised. A Christian I remained but I knew some cultures, especially tribal societies thought little of their nudity not because they were wanton or immoral but rather because no one told them it was naughty or indecent. I assumed that was the case here and I felt somewhat less awkward in my current state.

These men and women were for lack of a better, politically correct term swarthy in complexion with jet black hair arranged in all manner of coiffers. The man who led them looked me over. I was flabbergasted to hear him speak English. I don't know why I guess it just never occurred to me that it would last in its current state that long.

He addressed me,"You aren't from this land, are you Young Lady?"

"No Sir," I said, "I came from above. I pointed upward to the sky which had a nice yellow hue to it. I crashed around sunset.

"You must be descended from they who departed to the Red World."

"That's right," I said.

I took them to what was left of my pod and they seemed to marvel at it. I was taken back to their village. It was beautiful with houses made from thick branches and sod roofs. Nearby was a lake. It was used for swimming and bathing. A well was used for the drinking water. I was introduced to the chief an elderly man whom I placed at around eighty. He looked me over and said in a mystical voice,"The Star Father has dropped you into our laps for a reason, Janet of the Red World. I do not know what the reason is."

After this strange encounter I sat around a campfire eating venison. I noticed a lack of firearms. In fact the deer I feasted on had been harvested with a bow and arrow.

I had dozens of questions. They'd have to wait until morning though. I ended up sharing a hut with another single lady in the village. The beds were not too far removed from the ones you and I are accustomed to. They were made of wood and the bed linens of silk.The pillows were also a type of silk stuffed with straw. It was very comfortable and I woke up in the hospital.

That was the last of this strange series of dreams or so I thought until a month ago. The story gets stranger from here but the pattern has been set. Hold onto your hat.

Chapter 3

I got up once more to retrieve some bottled water from my cooler. After accepting the liquid, my friend continued her story.

So there was more to come as I found out. Let's see here. It was the beginning of last month. I believe. Yes, that's it exactly I know because we'd just got back from seeing that new comic book movie.

I went to bed and woke up by the lake starkers. The strange dream of my life from thousands of years ago faded into mist barely memorable. That's the nature of dreams. I'd gone for a skinny dip in the water. Of course skinny dipping was the only kind of dipping any of us did.

After my swim I lounged on the grassy shore and ran my hand lazily through the water. Was this how it was with Eve before the eating of the fruit,being naked in an innocent manner and curiously taking in the world around her? It was probably during this time that I fell asleep.

The woman I had gone swimming with smiled down at me as she toweled herself off. "I see you're finally up," She said,'' any more of those dreams of yours?"

"Yes,'' I said, trying to shake off the lingering cobwebs of slumber, "How long did I sleep for?"

"Twenty minutes by my best estimates," she informed me.

How was that possible? How could so much time fit into only twenty minutes? Why did these dreams seem so real?

As to the questions I had upon my arrival to Earth I shall answer them all at once without taking into account the learning curve for the sake of time.

By this point I had been on Earth for three months, even though in real life assuming that's what it was that amount of time had not yet passed. My pod Which was moved into the village the day after my arrival was moved into an underground storage beneath the village.

In that same chamber was housed many books and other records of importance concerning the Earth's history before and after the ascension to Mars. The villagers gave me unlimited access to this collection. They were far from illiterate and well educated. I feel I must describe their culture before I fill you in on the history of this Earth.

They were the descendants of the Native Americans as I learned from my research. The tribe–and it was a large one–were monotheistic worshiping God as I know Him but calling Him the Star Father just as their predecessors had called Him the Great Spirit. I asked the chief about this and he explained, "Why, The Star Father is the supreme being. He created the stars that dance among the night sky. Thus He is the Star Father just as a man who sleeps beside his wife and sires a son is that son's father."

I couldn't argue with that logic. I decided to not insult my hosts by badgering them with questions about their lack of attire. Despite being bare except for loincloths, if even that, they were not a "loose" people. In fact they were a very chaste society and premarital intercourse was frowned upon.

No one taught them this. They concluded untold centuries ago that committing the act would be like opening a gift before its appointed day then rewrapping it.You already know what the gift is when it is finally given to you. As a consequence you're still happy with it but something is missing. So this must not be how the Star Father intended it to be.

It made one think. Now as to the history of the world itself of course we know about Musk and his interplanetary endeavors. Well, in the history fabricated by my dream Space X was bought out. The buyers put up a well crafted facade of continuing his vision of affordable space travel for all. Instead in the end all the wealthy rocketed to space leaving the have nots to fend for themselves.

I won't go over the subsequent economic fubars and chaos that ensued but when the dust settled and everything looked like something from a Road Warrior movie We found a way back to a simpler existence. Animals were once again the primary source of food and transportation.

Most of the arts were handed down through the generations; others like gunsmithing, were no longer feasible and lost to the dusty ages. Black Smithing reigned supreme & now all conflicts were fought again with sword and spear.

Without the government big wigs in charge the Native American tribes were able to leave the reservations and reclaim much of their long lost land. Some of it was reclaimed in bloody conflict but mostly peaceful coexistence prevailed.

Tribes and clans were the social structures now. And eventually years of intermingling and intermarriage resulted in the Chokas, the people who I was now with. There were other tribes scattered across what had once been the United States. I was not the only "pale breed" on the planet but the only one that lived in that region. The others lived further North.

No matter ethnicity, tribal life was the predominant way of life.

The reason for the odd shape of the land masses made sense now. One hundred years prior to my arrival a global earthquake occurred that made the waters rise, wiping out the islands and coastal habitation. Hawaii was beneath the oceans now. What was Great Britain & Japan fared no better. Florida, New York and California were washed away and Louisiana was still around but the wetlands had reclaimed most of it.

This information should satisfy my colleagues when I was finally retrieved from Earth. However some unforeseen circumstances would occur that would change all that.

There were survivors from Hawaii and they lived in a coastal region on the edge of the sundered continent. "They follow strange gods and are what our ancestors would have called standoffish."

This was said to me by Darnell Prouddeer. He had been the one who led the Chokas to my crash site three months ago and he was one of my closest friends. Very close.

So now you know the history of this strange new Earth in a nutshell. After I put my loincloth and moccasins back on I walked back from the lake towards the village and once again I was in my home in the present day. The alarm clock let know me that much.

As a side note as you know I've tried to stay a healthy weight but I've never been what you call fit. Well in these dreams, assuming that's what they were, I was nearly amazonian. We're talking abs and biceps the whole shabang. I was admired by even the bulkiest of warriors among the village.

Women who fought in the few conflicts that arose were not uncommon but those with families weren't frontline fighters as a general rule though they were still trained in weapon arts so they could protect themselves if need be. It also wasn't uncommon for a man with a daughter and no son to teach his daughter things like hunting as he would have had his son. So it wasn't odd to see a female Choka riding out on a hunting trip or a woman practicing with her weapons though most of the warrior women were those who were unmarried and had no children or married but not yet with child. There will be more on this shortly.

Chapter 4

To avoid this becoming tedious, my friend, I'm going to plainly state the pattern that's already been set. Each time I would wake up or otherwise find myself on this weird version of Earth some time would have passed yet I could recall that time perfectly though my life in the present day would be only partially remembered like a dream.

The same thing would happen when I woke up in the present day. I could also spend days and even nights on end in this world only to wake up and find little time had passed while I slept an hour or so at most.

Getting back to it I found myself with Prouddeer. I'd left the underground library after browsing the book shelves. I was happy the Bible and most of the classics had survived despite having gone out of print 300 years prior. These books were all in very good condition.

Whenever I wasn't busy boning up on a thousand years of history I would try to repair the busted communication equipment but even though I'm a woman of science, even in real life, engineering wasn't one of my specialties.

Back to me and Prouddeer. We'd left the library and now he dove off into the water with a wooden box and came back up a minute or so later for air. "Whatever are you doing?" I quizzed him.

With a smile he said,"Wait Sunhair and see!"

He disappeared beneath the water again. Sunhair was the name the tribe had given me. He resurfaced two more times, the second being the last.

He walked out of the water and showed me the contents of the box. It was filled with clams.

"So those are clams!" I exclaimed in awe.

"You don't have them on 0the Red World?"

"No, unfortunately we don't. We didn't bring any sea life with us. I don't really know why; that was long before I was born."

He asked me about Mars and I explained what I knew from the historical records about terraforming the planet & all that had happened there as I knew it.

"So did your forbearers find what they hoped to on the Red World?"

"They were looking for what the Chokas and the pale breeds here have."

"They do not have it?"

"No Mars is in a similar state to Earth when they left."

He didn't say anything else for a second then he made a very profound point. "What else could be expected? When you flee from yourself you take yourself with you."

"There are those of us who wish for a more simple existence."

"Perhaps they should live here again."

"Maybe."

This dream ended here.

The next one involved the inevitable arrival of a search and rescue team. Both my housemate Matilda Grassdancer and myself were waiting for bread to rise in the stone oven inside the hut we shared when the village came alive with shouts and excitement.

We rushed outside to see what had happened and saw a spacecraft touch down. It was from Mars. The Chief looked at me quizzically and I explained it was the research team. They were clad in space suits similar to the one I would have worn if not for–well you already know that part.

I recognized the leader of the group when he removed his helmet. In fact he'd served as a chaplain in my unit back on Mars. They had plasma rifles slung over their shoulders. "Janet! What are you uh…"

He stumbled over the words. Yes to put it plainly I was still topless. That hadn't changed and any qualms I'd had about my nakedness had ceased to exist during the three months on Earth. So it was sternly but politely that I made my point. "Respecting the social mores of another culture, Captain. That is what I'm doing."

He dropped the subject at least for now. I introduced the crew to the villagers and vice versa. Despite the culture difference, and I don't just mean the perceptions of modesty,everyone got along swimmingly and the rescue party even spent the night.

The next day my damaged pod was loaded up into the ship. I insisted on staying and this caused some conflict.

"Please come back Craddock," said the captain. "Their ways are not the Christian ways. They're naked and as such unchaste and now you're brazenly baring yourself to!

"They offer prayers up to some pagan deity called the Star Father. I'm begging you don't stay among them."

I could feel my temper flaring and it didn't remain hidden as I tactfully made my counter points. I also didn't appreciate the insinuation that I was becoming a loose woman.

"Captain, I've lived among these people for over three months. They are well educated and very civilized as you've seen from your brief stay.

"They are naked, yes but that is simply a difference in culture, one laced with innocence and there have been days here I was grateful for only having the loincloth about my waist and not the spacesuit.

"As for chastity they could teach us Martians a thing or two about what it actually means. You might be surprised that sex is reserved exclusively for marriage as God intended it. You refer instead to modesty and as CS Lewis once pointed out thousands of years ago: they are not the same thing.

He could think of no rebuttal so while his piehole was shut I continued. "As for this Star Father he is God. He is just named differently. The Choka are what remains of the Native American tribes. Just as their ancestors called God the Great Spirit & the Jews call him Jehovah so these people call him the Star Father.

"Who are to say they are less pious than us simply because they worship Him differently and call him something different. Our history is stained red because of such matters.

"No Captain for whatever reason my place is here with them."

"I don't understand you, Janet Craddock, but I have to respect your decision."

"Perhaps you could come back sometime and visit us. Earth is far more peaceful now than Mars is at present."

He silently nodded and boarded the ship. I watched it take off and Woke up in bed. For the next few nights these dreams were absent and I thought them to be at an end. I was sadly mistaken and the dreamscape version of me would regret having extended that invitation.

Chapter 5

There is no need to cover the entirety of my waking life. That would make this tedious. Neither is there any reason to recount everyday in that dreaming world if that is what that world was. I wonder to this day.

Eventually I woke up under a shade tree and this time I was confined to the Dreamscape for quite awhile. It was gift giving day and these days are quite special just like Christmas is to us.

I walked through the villages, for the shade tree I'd fallen asleep under was behind the village and nearby the horse stables. I had simply decided to watch them for a while and had fallen asleep in the warmth of the sun. Prouddeer flagged me down and presented me with my gifts.

The first of these gifts was a hunting knife in a handmade leather sheath. I accepted it with gladness and immediately strapped it to the girdle of my loincloth. The next gift was somewhat stranger and a little awkward. He produced two golden objects shaped like clamshells. "What are they?'' I asked?

"You wear hem," he replied with a smile.

I made to fasten them on my ears with little success & I'm certain my facial expressions indicated my puzzlement.

"No, not there,here," he said, indicating my bosom.

Of course these were breast ornaments like I'd seen some of the women wearing. He stayed to watch me don them. They stayed on via suction by the way. It was a little awkward with him watching despite how comfortable I'd gotten with wearing very little.

I was grateful for having a little more coverage on my breasts, scant as it was but if shells were good enough for mermaids they'd have to be good enough for me. "Now you can always have clams. Even if you decide to return to Mars!" He exclaimed with joy."

"Thank you my friend. I'm only sorry that I have nothing to offer you in return. Accept this if it is not against your customs." I gave him a quick hug and he returned it.

"That is a fine gift and is often given in place of material things," he said

Later as I returned to my hut, Grassdancer was beaming over a quilt given to her by her sister who lived elsewhere in the village. She saw the new addition to my primitive wardrobe and smiled. "Darnell Prouddeer has given you those no doubt."

"How do you know?" I asked, amazed at her deduction.

"I've seen you two together, a bond beyond friendship is blossoming there. Men of the Chokas regardless of tribe give women these ornaments as gifts as a first step of courtship.

"This is usually accompanied by another gift that pertains to the woman's station. You are also a soldier on your home world so he gave you a hunting knife."

"I'm not so sure."

"Mark my words. Come spring you'll see that your hut sister was right."

As to what she meant I shall touch on that shortly along with the earlier topic of women warriors. In the meantime the autumn and winter passed.

During these months the weather was cooler and we were surprisingly fully clothed. I was not idle. My research continued and I accompanied the Chokas on journeys of trade with other tribes and even the tribes of other ethnicities. I met and talked and traded goods with people from all creeds and walks of life.

I even met the survivors of the land once called Hawaii and they were indeed standoffish. Then November came along.

Once this month–though in that time it was called something else–arrived I witnessed the men and some of the women go out on what was the biggest hunting trip of the season. They were suited up in buckskin pants of a navy hue and breastplates made of animal bones held together with leather straps.

Headbands adorned with feathers and warpaints completed a look harkening back to their ancestors. They rode forth with spears, swords, and tomahawks and hunting bows. When they returned it was with a deer, a turkey, and a bore. The rest of the day was spent dressing out the animals and the huntsmen and huntresses were still gathered around the fire over which they roasted the boar and turkey long after I turned in for sleep.

As you can imagine I half expected to wake back up in the real world or fall into a dream whichever you prefer. However on the following morning I awoke from a dreamless sleep and found my hut mate cooking bread. I learned from Grassdancer that today was an ancient tradition called Thanksgiving. I explained that while I knew of it, it had fallen out of practice on Mars as it was considered offensive to some of the ancestors of the Chokas.

She stared at me as if I'd said the grass was pink. "I know well of the crimson history, Sunhair, but would your people really choose not to offend mortals by instead offending the Star Father by casting aside the day reserved to celebrate His gifts of harvest & friendship?" she asked me. She shook her head,"They cannot erase what was done after by burying the events that came before. It is forever branded into the annals of mortal history."

At the noon hour, the feast commenced and we all ate outside in the open. There were rows of tables and a spread of food the likes of which I'd never seen. Members of other tribes including the fierce rivals of the Lake dwellers(the tribe I lived with) set aside their differences today and partake in the feast. I was one happy Martian.

Winter was not as joyus. The flu season came in with a vengeance. I wondered if I had somehow transported its interstellar cousin with me despite the decontamination procedures. Prouddeer fell victim to the virus and I nursed him back to health.

Christmas came or at least it's equivalent in this age and the few villagers who were well gathered to give gifts. Darnell Prouddeer gave me a spear. It was lovely and showed how much he admired the fact I was a soldier and I had been training with the sword during my time among these people.

The influenza passed as it does though we lost some of our people. They were mourned and laid to rest on pyres so as to burn away any contagion. Then spring came and brought many changes. It was about that time I woke up yet again only to find a few hours had passed since I fell asleep.

Chapter 6

Had this been one isolated incident I'd have chalked to bad food or too many movies or pulp novels. However as you know it happened again and again.

What made it worse is that when I woke up here the memories of my experiences would fade as the images of dreams do. When I'd wake up within that other Earth my life here would be a fading dream.

It's nuts I know but it got to the point where I wondered which was my waking life and my dream life. Then another dream. This time it was in the spring.

The Spring brought changes to some good others to our detriment and it also brought an end to my account. There was far more to it but for the sake of time I have left out several details.

I was given in holy matrimony to Darnell Prouddeer. The proceedings were not conventional. On the day of the Equinox the men and women are split up. Each member of their respective group strips completely naked which as you know doesn't take long.

Then the men take up swords and shields and fight with the men. The women fight the women. The reason for nude combat is so that no person may be at an advantage over their opponents with superior armor and there IS armor as you will come to see.

These battles are a process of elimination. Each fighter strives to deliver three non lethal strikes to their opponents. After this mates are chosen from the winners. The men remaining select the women who remain. It is strange I know but it is custom. And more often than not true romance does blossom between the couples.

It is also not uncommon for Husband and wife to both be warriors or hunters. Swinging a sharp edge at a naked body can certainly end in any number of disasters. This was taken into account and the shields used are larger than those used in armored combat.

Of the women who remained I was among them. I had been cut twice, once on my torso and once on my shield arm. Of the men who remained was Darnell Prouddeer.

He didn't even glance at the other women and make no mistake the women of the Chokas are beautiful. He rushed up and swept me up in his arms. Grassdancer had been right.

In fact I learned from my new husband that very night as we lay together that he would have waited until next Spring if I'd lost the tournament. Indeed some of the women married that day were the ones whose bosoms were adorned with the scanty ornaments and their mates were the men who had gifted them.

After all cuts were bandaged, loincloths and/or ornaments were put back on we marched back into the village from the little arena just a mile away. In fact it was just to the east of my crash landing!

There was a banquet and the chief who also acted as shaman blessed the couples. Once evening fell the newly Weds retired to their huts. I thanked Grassdancer for her hospitality then moved my few possessions to Darnell's hut.

Afterwards he & I knew each other in the biblical sense. What happens between a man and his wife within the bedchamber should oftentimes stay there. This will be one of those times. I will not graphically describe our intimacy except to say at one point he spent five minutes looking into my eyes and caressing my abs.

I woke up in my husband's swarthy arms. The sun beamed down on us through a window and I found myself not wanting to leave our bed. He ran a hand up my back and through my hair.

"The sun shining in your locks makes you look like an attendant of the Star Father," he gushed passionately.

I pressed my lips to his and I felt a strange sensation. It wasn't sexual in nature. It felt like wisps of air passing around my body. When I opened my eyes I was in my bed with my lips pressed to my pillow.

Once more I was in the present day. I was devoid of muscle and had to walk about with a crutch. Some dreams you don't want to wake up from. Some are so pleasant that waking up from them is like being unable to wake up from a nightmare!

I know you know this. This dream if that's what truly was one of those. The constant switcheroo was becoming agony. I sought help on the matter and after much time in communication with my Heavenly Father I felt a trip to my campus was needed.

Professor Monohan was an absolute whizz in quantum physics and a firm believer in multiverse theory. What made him unorthodox and a little bit of a pariariah in the scientific community is his fascination with suspended animation. After finding out his office number I dropped in on him unexpectedly. "Hello, ma'am. You're not one of my students."

"No, sir. My name is Janet Craddock."

"Well, Janet, what can I do for you?"

"Well I have a bit of a strange situation and thought you might be able to help."

He didn't reply at once. He clacked away at his keyboard then studied his desktop screen for a few seconds. He looked at me again and signaled for me to continue.I told him everything that I've told you up to this point except even more briefly.

He was an attentive listener. At last he said,"There has been a long standing theory that dreams were actually our subconscious mind receiving images from parallel universes. While I certainly believe in the multiverse I don't think this theory applies to every single dream. In your case however I think it is very likely that you're not just seeing an alternate Craddock but that your consciousness becomes one with hers for the duration of your sleep cycle.

"This is why the memories are hazy and dream-like depending on which world you're waking up in."

I was silent for a moment. "So which universe is the main one?" I finally asked.

"That I can answer."

A look at his watch brought an end to this meeting. He headed to teach his next class and I went back home. I had been given answers and more questions.

Chapter 7

Sunday night I watched a little television and snacked lightly. My church had a potluck and I was full enough from that that supper wasn't appealing.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew was sitting in some sort of sweat lodge with the chief and my hubby. The chief looked at me with concern. "Did you see anything?"

I explained my vision even what had been told to me by the scientist. He scratched his head for a second "Hmm, it is a puzzle to be sure and only the Star Father knows the answers to dreams or these two seperate waking lives you live. One among us, one among the ancients."

The mysterious rite was at a conclusion and none too soon, for just as the chief finished speaking a shrill cry pierced the night and another of a different pitch. They'd both been from women " There is trouble on our threshold," said my husband.

We exited the hut as fast as we could. The women who had vocalized moments before were weeping furiously now. Several of the villagers had gathered around two horses. Across the backs of the equines were draped two bodies, one upon each.

The riders were apparently of a familial relation to the grieving women. They were what the ancient Natives would have called braves. They'd gone hunting and returned dead with arrows in their backs!

Prouddeer and the chief and a few others studied the arrows while some of us tried to comfort the women. The arrows were of the kind made and used by the Woodswalkers, the rival tribe that had shared in our feast two seasons ago.

The chief looked grim and spoke grim. "One day of feasting does not easily mend generations of warring. Death has walked this night in the forests. Our enemies have drawn first blood upon two young men who were clearly marked for hunting not warfare."

"What happens now?" I asked with an impending dread of the answer I already knew.

"We must go to the offending Chokas and request that they make amends. If they refuse we must go to war. This is our law and our way."

So this strange new Earth was not so far removed from the ancient one or even Mars for that matter. So as the chief had said so it was done. The men were given their rites and I suited up to join the war party.

There wasn't much to the armor. It consisted of a muscle cuirass. They were in the style of the ancient Greeks and the Romans. I was staring at a bronze replica of my musculature right up the breasts which were narrower and oval shaped versus the wide square shape of those on the male breast plates.

I was thoroughly impressed. It had taken one thousand years but humanity had finally created realistic boob armor. The only other piece was a helmet which is a little hard to describe. It had a Roman flare to it but there was something distinctly different. If I had to compare it to something it would be something an elf might wear in a fantasy setting.

Suited up in our scant armor and weapons. We rode half a day until we came upon the village of our rivals. It was in a man-made clearing in a dense part of the forest west of the village.

The captain of our procession addressed the chief who came out of his hut. "State your business," he demanded.

The captain was not one for eloquent speech. "You know our business. Chief Eaglewing. Two of our braves were killed by your arrows. We mourned them all night and buried them in the infant light of the morning. They'd been painted for hunting not war"

"Yet here you are," said the chief,"painted for war and clad in your armor."

"The Star Father knows we've tried to live peaceably with your people but you just won't have it. The influenza brought many of our people to His domain. We have few to spare on needless bloodshed."

There was more from both parties but it ended when the chief said they had nothing to make restitution for. Then all hell broke loose. Our captain ordered us to attack and so we did. It was a bloody battle with skilled warriors on both sides and I saw much carnage as huts were burned and warriors were mowed down like grass in a suburb.

I was locked in combat with one particular warrior. After I had relieved him of his sword he'd gone for his tomahawk. He swung with great force and I felt the bones in my arm rattle when I countered with my shield. Then I pierced him with my sword and he screamed and raised the tomahawk to smash my helmet.

I swung my sword and the curved blade sliced cleanly through both his arms. He screamed hellishly as blood spurted from severed arteries. I finished him off by crushing his skull with my shield. I'd been a soldier for years and had never seen a man die like that. I never wanted to again.

We did our damage and sent our message. So we left the scene with a few casualties of our own. As we rode the captain said "They will recover and retaliate. For now each of our tribes will lick our wounds. Sons and daughters were lost today over stupidity."

We made it back to camp and Prouddeer saw me with my bloodshot eyes,blood smeared armor and the memories of the armless warrior burned into my brain He scooped me up, took me to the lake and stripped me of my armor, loincloth and moccasins. Then he stripped and pulled me into the water and helped me wash the horrors of battle off me.

After this he carried me in his muscular arms back to our hut where we put our wealth of carnal knowledge to use. Later that night I walked out into the night air and looked up at the stars. I closed my eyes and was staring at my living room ceiling.

Chapter 8

No, my dear friend, I haven't forgotten your dinner plans and I will now try to conclude this account briefly as I can. Later in the spring when the weather was already slightly heating up indicating the near arrival of summer I was laying down by the lake were I spent so much of my time. I was gazing up at the constellations I had only ever read about in books.

Even after terraforming the atmosphere of Mars doesn't accommodate light enough for stars to be visible. So I tried to soak them up for as long as possible. I expected by now to be hurled back to my real life if that is truly what it was. However my stargazing was only ended by the arrival of my husband.

The following day everyone saw the ships touch down. Why were there two of them? They were from Mars alright. I got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn't explain.

As we rushed to meet the martians Darnell stared at me in puzzlement. "What is the matter? Are you not happy that your friends have accepted your invitation to visit us?"

"I just have a weird feeling is all. Why did they bring two ships? Unless they plan to stay long term?"

"Why should they not? Come, Sunhair let us greet them."

Everything that came after, had come before long ago. The two ships bore those from Mars who sought a better life from the hedonism they'd inherited from the original settlers of Mars one thousand years ago. They gave the Chokas guns and taught them how to use them. In return the Chokas as well as other tribal societies they made contact with taught them skills long forgotten on the Red Planet, skills like hunting game.

When the tribe of the forest finally rose up against us they helped us beat them back. The most amusing event was when my old chaplain and some other clergy tried to do missions work among them only to realize that I had been right and that these natives were just as pious as I was despite the lack of clothing. At least that's how it seemed at the time.

So you see I was witnessing history repeat itself and I knew that this peaceful coexistence was not to last. The land just wasn't big enough for all of us even though it was.

One day near the start of summer one evening I had gone into the woods with my spear to stalk rabbits for dinner. I didn't bother with paints or any of that like the other huntresses. It was by chance or more likely divine intervention that my safari took me within range of the two ships about an hour away from my home. I could see the beginnings of a town ship being built.

I could also see a large crowd of Martians, all of them soldiers, gathered around the chaplain. He was speaking and I forgot about supper. From my hiding place among the woods I listened.

"Fellow Soldiers of the Nu Martian States Space Force, God has seen fit to lead us to this homeworld of our ancestors. It is teeming with all that we need, water, food, and most importantly fresh air. It is our promised land! But like the Israelites who God led out of Egypt we must drive the Cannanites from these shores!

"We have their trust so they will not see us coming. We shall strike at sunrise. Earth will belong to the Lord's Holy Children once more!"

They raised a cheer and as I silently fled from this nightmare scene my heart had become a lead weight. "Dear, God in heaven, Precious Star Father, why does it always end like this?"

Sweating from the warmer weather and panting like a tired hound, I madeit back into the village an hour later and gave my report to the chief. The following morning the warriors suited up. I had not seen my husband all night as he was part of a war council. I was vaguely aware of his climbing into bed sometime around midnight.

We both donned our armor and then he grabbed me up and pressed me against the wall of our hut and violently kissed me and I him. Once the "quicky" was over he looked at me with much concern."It is a custom among us for a couple to have intercourse before a major battle that way if one of them falls they will have a last happy memory together. This attack was so sudden that we did not have time. This was all I could do."

"Fret not my, husband for I will fight by your side until the bitter end." I picked up my spear with grimmest resolve.

He lovingly placed a hand on my shoulder. "No, Wife, you must not. We have lain together many nights and you carry the seed of our next generation inside you. Stay here and protect the others who must not be on the crimson field for this reason."

"I will do as you ask, Prouddeer. May the Star Father see you safely back to me."

We didn't have nearly as large of an army as we desired between the two clashes with the Woodswalkers and the influenza. It didn't matter. The invaders had the advantage with numbers and technology. I should know. We had wearable force field generators on our gear that would render the bows and arrows and melee weapons useless.

Anyway the army was assembled. Warriors made up the front line, those using guns made up the calvary,the huntsmen and huntresses who were not impregnated made up the rear. I could go into each painstaking detail of that battle but I won't.

Both sides met two miles outside the village. It was a hard fought massacre on both sides. Eventually a line of Martians broke through into the village. I'd lost sight of my husband in the chaos and now I had to concentrate my efforts on protecting my fellow females and the children.

I became a savage tigress. I drove my hunting knife through openings in the soldiers'p battle armor I could find. I slashed with my spear and sword. Then it was all over for me.

The huts were burning, several of my friends were dead and dying including Grassdancer, and I was soaked in sweat and blood. We tried to drive back the horde but were doing a pitiful job of it. I charged toward one lone warrior and he activated his force field just as my spear was about to hit home. The spear shattered and I was beyond livid.

I drew my sword just as I drew it back to deliver a deadly chop, something I don't know what exploded behind me. I was thrown forward, my sword nailed my foe in the leg and I hit the ground when I came to I was in bed and it was five in the morning.

A week went by without any more dreams of that sort. It was agonizing! I had to know what happened. Why couldn't I see into that other world anymore?

I grew desperate and sought out the professor again and told him of my plight. "The only possible thing I could think of would be for you to be in a deep sleep long term. Perhaps that will restore your connection to the Dreamscape as you call it. Assuming that the other you survived. It's possible that she didn't and that is why your connection is severed."

"You are a pioneer in suspended animation. Is there anything you could do to help?"

Within the week I was brought to his laboratory and placed inside a stasis pod which he modeled after the ones from a host of science fiction stories. I was placed into a deep sleep except instead of waking up in the Dreamscape I woke up in bed.

That's the story. I know it's bonkers but you must understand for the past month I've wondered if everything was one giant dream or if I'm still in that stasis pod and all this is a dream.

So my friend had finished her strange narrative. I recall a dream I once had where I woke up from a nightmare and walked through my house only to turn my neck to look at something in my living room and wake up in bed. I know she came to me seeking an explanation but this is something that could not be explained. I wonder to this day if she is still dreaming and I am but a part of that dream.

Silence was draped over the Space Next launch sight like a hospital blanket over a coded patient. The streamlined S.R.V or Shuttle Retrieval Vehicle had been built even as the efforts of corporate elites such as Musk and Bezos were sending vessels. into space. No one thought the craft would need to be used, until now.

The bullet-esque shuttle was dropped gently on the tarmac before the SRV pilots steered the rescue vehicle back to its own launch pad. A small army of figures in hazmat swarmed the craft. Inside were six bodies all male. They had remained in the ship at all times so none of them were wearing spacesuits. Their faces had been contorted into some abominable display of both bewilderment and terror. Scarcely did they look like the strapping ,young men, that brave all American crew who were eager to touch heaven.

In his autopsy the lab the medical examiner had to only look at the dried blood around the ears and eyes and nose to guess the cause of the death: internal hemorrhaging caused by trauma to the brain. His examination revealed a series of shocking discoveries that led him to keep his report simple. The crew was frightened to death. If he had known what had caused it he would have been curled up in a corner sucking his thumb or else on the table with the cadavers.

Six months ago Space Next launched it's shuttle, Prometheus, up into the stars. The world of space travel had become the next streaming war. Even a certain prominent entertainment company was looking at expanding it's cruise lines with voyages into space. It was a race unseen since the Cold War era.

Company upon company was constructing launch pads to raise their cosmic phallus to penetrate the stratosphere and violate the virgin purity of the cosmos and plant the seed of man's destruction on other planets.

Space Next had know idea its own two week maiden voyage would be doomed like the Titanic before it. It wasn't until contact with the crew was lost that Dick Corben, the founder of Space Next realized something had gone wrong. It took six months of searching via probing satellites but the Prometheus was finally found drifting ominously through the star studded expanse.

This latest endeavor didn't seek to colonize Mars, no. Space Next wanted to push beyond the boundaries of the milky way galaxy and beyond. They wanted to go to the very fringes of the universe itself.

Three days in and the two week test flight the experimental warp drive was tested and thus was the crew's fate sealed. The fabric of space seemed to warp and bend around the Prometheus. The intention was to come out of the Milky Way, drift around for a few days and head back to Earth.

Wherever the shuttle had ended up it wasn't the edge of our galaxy or any other. It was a psychedelic cosmic hellscape were physics ceased to exist. It was a surreal experience basking in the glow of colors not seen by man but out of those nameless colors came shadows that grew in size and form.

The eyes of the crew were blasted by the demoniac visage of horrors glimpsed by the troubled artistic minds of men like H.P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard but that were more terrifying in reality than Cthulhu or Set could ever hope to be. These were evil creatures or entities that had existed before even the Book of Genesis. One by one the crew began bleeding from ears and knows as their fragile human brains were overwhelmed by that which was not meant to be seen by mortals. One of the men just before he succumbed to his fate recalled a passage from Revelations: "They will wish to die and death will fly from them." These were clearly beings being kept from entering our world until the very End.

The crew was dead. The horrific sounds of these abominations replaced the screams of the astronaut's. Then as if plucked from the nightmare by an invisible hand the shuttle was hurled across the void and back into the Milky Way were it drifted in silence for six months.

The incident was the nail in the coffin for Space Next and would remain an unsolved mystery. To one man, a minister who sat on his porch on a rainy day reading the headlines complete with the coroner's report, it was no mystery at all. Next to him on the little table by his rocking chair was his Bible open to Genesis. He knew that Space Next had built a Tower of Babble and this time God had not confounded the language of the people but their psychies.