THE QUEEN OF TIME

2570 A.D.!

A TALE OF ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE

By Jerome B. Bigge

Chapter Forty Three

      Queen Joyce of "Los Angeles" quietly regarded Les Hawkins as the man stood there staring at her now sitting there beside me... In her way she was as "ugly" as any Lorr, but also doubtlessly as intelligent as any one of the inhabitants of Mars. The trouble- making "Democrat" just standing there in awe at "that" beside me.

      "It is true..." he gasped, looking up at Joyce. I supposed he had an "agent" here in the palace. I employ dozens of people.

      "I am Joyce, Queen of Los Angeles," Joyce said to him then.

      "Their civilization is underground," I said then to the man. I was attired in all my regal "finery", including my ornate crown I rarely wear except upon state occasions. Despite whatever Les Hawkins might claim for himself, I thought that he was impressed! My Warrioresses, drawn up in their numbers, my dogs, wolves, left no doubt that I was fully capable of employing violence here too!

      "You act against the `teachings' of the Priestesses," he an- swered, regaining his wits. I suspect he'd come to make threats, but I suppose facing me had made him realize how foolish threat- ening me might be. I do have a "reputation" of being "dangerous to cross", perhaps "deserved" to a certain extent here too now... He was not an attractive man, being rather overweight, with a look about him of too infrequent baths, a typical "low life", I mused to myself. A man who envied everyone more "fortunate". A man who doubtlessly was "ideal" for Princess Tara's own purposes.

      "I'm sure they will `notify' me of that if they wish," I an- swered now in level tones, sitting there on my throne before him. "They hardly require your assistance in a matter such as this."

      "When the people of Trella learn of this they will demand an answer from you," he snapped back at me, standing there before me with one of my guardswomen on either side. "And this time `woman from the past'; even you have gone too far," Les Hawkins now ad- ded, his dark eyes burning up into mine as I sat upon my throne.

      "Senator Ola Mathis of Dularn spoke much of you," I said. I was taking a shot in the dark, but the expression on his face for a brief instant left no doubts in my mind that he was Tara's man! "I fear however that she was of little value afterwards..." The look of fear there in his dark eyes made me smile to myself. "You may leave now if you wish," I smiled, motioning to my women.

      "Were you able to sense his thoughts?" I asked Joyce as soon as I had a chance to speak with her in private. The fact that she was a telepath being something I'd kept from the others here.

      "He is as you suspected only a `tool'," she smiled back, the smile showing a set of fangs any Garth would have been proud of.

      "Any idea of `who' his master is?" I ventured, wondering how good her telepathic powers were. From what I knew of such things it was possible that she might have picked up something "useful".

      "I will `share' with you what I received," Joyce answered, placing her clawed hands on my temples, linking her mind with mine. Once again I saw as she saw, her visual sense different as is that of the Lorr, my mind linked with hers, sharing thoughts.

      "The woman is not one I recognize," I said, Joyce nodding.

      "She is not Princess Tara either," Joyce added for me then.

      "At least we know Les Hawkins isn't the one," I smiled back.

      "I am sorry I cannot help you more," Queen Joyce said to me.

      "You've done all you could," I answered, aware too that her own life was at risk here should Les Hawkins be able to arouse a mob. My flamethrowers and quickfirers would stop such a mob in its tracks, but a siege was something I had no "defense" against. On the other hand it was doubtful that Les Hawkins would be able to convince Warriors and Warrioresses to join him in his attack. A mob armed with the usual "street weapons" wasn't too much of a threat to my fortified palace, not with the weapons I now had...

      "This is not a good place for me to stay with you," Joyce said suddenly, standing there, a good two feet taller than I am. She did look a lot like a Garth too in a way, I mused to myself.

      "My estate would be a lot safer," I mused, regarding her.

      "Commodore Janice Hill, Queen Joyce of Los Angeles," I said. Janice looking at Joyce with much the same expression I suspect that she would have showed had I introduced her to a Garth here. The Huntress resting calmly at anchor, the day utterly windless.

      "Pleased, your majesty," Janice answered, regarding Joyce.

      "I wish to be taken to my estate," I said to my commodore.

      "I can see `why'," Janice now smiled, giving me a big grin. I'd smuggled Joyce out of the palace while my women created a bit of a "diversion" to fool anyone watching from a distance here. I gave Les Hawkins credit for enough intelligence to think of that. It would take him time to raise a force of Trella's rabble, time I could use to see that Joyce was safely "transported" beyond his reach. And if Les Hawkins and his rabble attempted to reach my estate, they would have to pass through the forests, where my own forces could wage a running battle with them they couldn't "win"! I'd taken Bob and Carol Simmons with me for company, feeling that they might enjoy a few days on my estate better than at Trella...

      "Brings' back memories?" I said to Carol as she stood there at the rail, a thing of curiosity to many aboard the Huntress. I knew she was old, dying, but yet I wanted to make her last days as "pleasant" for her as I could. I felt I "owed" her that much. The black smoke rising up from the funnel, the thud of the engine now familiar sounds, at least to me, if not to her here, I mused. There was not enough wind to make it worth bothering raising sail, but the steam engine, newly reworked, would do the job now.

      "Bob enjoyed the North Star," she spoke, looking out to sea. "I think it was on her quarterdeck that he `found' himself then." The old Dularnian Sealord at the moment talking to Commodore Hill as she stood there beside the actual "captain" of the Huntress, a midshipman, young, pretty, brunette, watching us all with awe. I thought of other such young officers I'd known, seen die in bat- tle. Now the greatest danger one faced was from nature herself. No longer would the "sight" of a Dularnian cause men and women to run to arms, others to scale masts to await their captain's order to set or reduce sail as needed. We were at peace, at least with any nation upon the North American coastline at the present time. I knew that both Carol and I had played our "roles" in that here.

      "I think you played your part too," I smiled back at her.

      "There is little `need' for Warladies now," she smiled.

      "But we do have our..." I breathed, forgetting a moment!

      "I may not recall where I am at times, but I've never for- gotten what it was like back then," Carol answered, touching me. "And please don't `pity' me, Lorraine," she now spoke to me then.

      "I only `wish' it could have been `different'," I said, my eyes blurring a bit. I wondered if I had "resented" this woman. That I'd sought to do what I tried to do because she, Carol, just an exotic dancer in some Seaside establishment, had actually been able to make a "fool" out of me before Darlanis and my husband!!

      "I will live on in your memories," Carol said to me then.

      "Perhaps I am a better wife to Jon because of you," I said. Jon standing by the bow of the Huntress, talking to the ship's first officer. Perhaps discussing something to do with the rig. I recalled what Jon had once spoke of Carol. Once she had been a very "attractive" woman in her own way. Provocative, sexy, a woman like few have ever been. A legend in her own time, I knew. In a way the "Lara Warsan" of the 20th Century, I mused just now.

      "And I to Bob because of his memories of you," she smiled.

      "Still no wind," Janice said, almost as if she thought I was blaming her for the lack of it. While the Athena was my actual "flagship" as such, I generally now used the Huntress for most of my sea borne travels, with Janice in command of the vessel here. She was a competent officer, one who knew me well, knew the sort of "discipline" I liked to see aboard a ship. Not a sea officer like Jon or Maris Marn, but competent at her work, I often felt.

      "We have coal enough to reach my estate," I smiled back.

      "Ship far out, Dulie by her rig," the lookout called down. "Looks like a `North' from the height and rake of her masts too!"

      "Captain North!" Janice snapped, wheeling about the words. The officer in question barking an order to the helmsman, Sandis North being tall and blonde, a Dularnian herself by birth, I re- called as I stood there watching. Her blue eyes meeting mine as I nodded back. It would be wise to "investigate" such a vessel. Even now, with peace between Dularn and the Empire of California, it was the "policy" on both sides to notify the other whenever a warship was sent into the territorial waters of the other here.

      "Signal `what ship' as soon as we are within range," I or- dered, standing there at the rail. Much aware too that there had been no notification by Dularn of any of their warships this far south. Queen Maris was "careful" about such things, which meant to me that it was likely this was not a "Dularnian" ship as such! "Also please inform the crew that I would like them at battle stations, just in case this ship is `what' I think it may be..." The "look" on Janice's face, and upon everyone's making me smile. "We may just be making the acquaintance of Princess Tara again."

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