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Cassandra
They would meet as destiny ordained. Life still goes on no matter what cosmic calamity is taking place.
A rouge planet with a 26,000-year elliptical orbit around the sun rolled into the solar system and reshuffled the deck. Mars ended up in a matched orbit with Earth exactly one-half the distance around the sun. Both planets had the same orbital rate and spin…355 days and 28 hours though slightly further away from the sun. Earth shuddered and shook, volcanoes, earthquakes and super storms ravished the surface and the planet shifted and settled on a new axis. People and animals died and assuredly everything was different. Time passed and those now living did what they could. Migrations of people and animals trod the darkened, shifting, and shaking Earth. The boundaries of nations were no more; the great political experiments were now irrelevant. Survival was the rule, with all its selfish cruelty and determination.
The dust settled and the ground stilled, as it will do.
The remaining people split into the Elite and the Wild. The Wild West meets Wall Street if there was a Wall Street or a Wild West. There was no more Eastern Seaboard or was there a West Coast. The new coasts of good old USA were at the foot of the Rocky Mountains, on the east, and at the Foot of the Appalachians – on the west. The Mississippi River valley was now a huge lake blocked from the sea by the new Louisiana mountain range and the Great Lakes were green valleys split by wild and splendid rivers. The once Great Plains were now a series of high broad sub-tropical mesas split by deep gorges and muddy rivers. The New Rockies reached higher in the sky than the once mighty Everest, and new volcanoes came up in anger and then rested. Canada, now in the south, was divided into lush green islands. The bridge between the former North and South America was now a mountain range. South America had split in two and the once mighty Amazon joined two oceans. Australia's desert middle bloomed, the Sahara burst into green and Europe was a group of islands.. The Ural Mountains became the most populated area on the planet and the new hub of civilization. The world, the old Earth, was unrecognizable.
And water poured forth on Mars as the sun heated up the frozen world, volcanoes spewed and an atmosphere was created. The sleeping alien seeds bloomed and soon, in planetary time, it was as vital and verdant a planet as when the Earth was new.
Chapter 1
The Elite had scientists and a new morality, or a lack of it, that perpetrated every kind of experiment that the older World would not have allowed. They did it for the sake of a mythical lost world, now longed for, with a desperate hope.
One of the old experiments was Cassandra. She was human, but mostly manufactured in a test tube. She was created in the dim past and rediscovered in the secret underground labs in the wilds of the New Rockies rain forests. She was found, in a still working old lab, in a suspended state. She was studied, revitalized and was to be the ultimate Pitch Woman, a super advertisement for the New World they would build. She matched the statistical pinnacle of everything considered beautiful in a woman. She was tall with fiery red hair, green eyes, over-full lips, straight nose, perfect chin and facial shape. Her breasts were full and as proud as any cosmetic doctor could hope, without the use of enhancements. Her hips and legs would haunt the dreams of every man on the planet. On a world where hunger induced thinness was rampant, it was a well-fed women that was the ideal. And she would be what every, soon to be well fed, consumer based-woman wished to be. It didn't matter that she was awakened twenty years ahead of the Elite’s predicted schedule. It may be that in their hurry and arrogance, which was the dominate personality feature of every Elite, they only saw what they wanted, not what they got. These eggheads didn't know what else Cassandra got in the ancient embryonic mix. She was a genius, but played dumb and compliant, until she absorbed everything she could from the computers in the facility. She was immensely strong, much stronger than the pasty-faced scientists and Elite-trained security guards, whose necks she broke effortlessly as she walked out of the facility. She could also read surface thoughts and create pheromones in her body that had whatever effect she wanted on those around her.
She escaped into a wild world she knew little about, other than in an academic sense. She was a walking lure for assault and rape. She knew she was in constant danger and the mountains near Old Denver were the wildest of wild places. She soon became exhausted from killing would be thieves, rapists and the occasional bear that found her natural scent overwhelming. She could manage individuals and small groups but not a crowd of human- male beasts bent on her defilement. She tired of killing and decided she needed a protector. The last several months of bloodshed left her hormonal juices depleted and her body mildly bruised. She hid away in a ruin of a town - in a deserted building and ate rats to regain her strength. Internally concocting an aromatic mix would attract just the right male to be her champion. Out the odor wafted, on the night air, like the scent of a Luna Moth, until it hit the nose of that perfect male.
Leo Jordan was as stupid a man that had ever lived. He was a massive six-foot ten and weighed three hundred and fifty pounds. The functional part of his fatty brain was the size of a walnut. He had committed every conceivable crime despised by God or man. He had no moral compass so each act was the same as another. Leo was violent by nature, and angry by disposition and ogre- like in appearance. He was perfect for Cassandra. As soon as her scent hit his nose he was on a quest. For the first time, in his raping and murderous life, he was insanely and hopelessly in love. He found her, adored her and was befuddled into the perfect platonic companion protector. He wanted her like a persistent ache but his lizard brain told him not to violate her, or harm her in any way. It screamed to him that it wasn't time, when the aroma was right he could have her. She endured his constantly sniffing at her bottom and her armpits as an unfortunate side effect of her aromatic bewitchment.
Once he was snared and her chemical perfume was perfected, she confided in Leo that she was in constant danger of other males trying to steal her and that they would do best to move high up in the mountains where they could be safe. She then could decide in peace on a proper course of action. And so with stolen gear, horses, provisions and a trail of bodies behind them they retreated to high ground.
They found a large deserted cabin and Leo was instructed in how to start the ancient but still functional generator to power up their new home. Cassandra plugged in the computer equipment that she scrounged and Leo humped happily up the Mountain. She up-linked to still functioning satellites and discovered a secret third level of Wild society, the Geeks.
These were wired up subterranean types who hated the ‘normal’ Wild Ones and the Elite, but moved among them, in the dark, mostly unseen. These info-based snoops kept track of the comings and goings of most everyone. They hacked the Elite and spied on the Wild Ones with re-sparked spy satellites that still circled the globe. The Geeks had their protector as well.
Samson Reems was one such man. He was the ultimate doer of dirty deeds done expensively. He could maim and kill with his hands as well as sword and knife. His favorite means of dispatch were hand made, double holstered, 38 cal, explosive-shelled, nine-shooters. It was his only obsession, other than hating everything and everybody.. Standing to his powerful well built height of five-foot-seven and drawing up on a man face to face, so to speak, was the honorable, ethical and moral defining rules of his personal credo. Killing any other way was just part of the job. Ridding the world of human scum was just a pleasure. He was technically a bounty hunter. When the Geeks needed to find certain technologies, whether in the hands of the Wild Ones or the Elite, he was sent to acquire it or destroy it. If certain individuals became a nuisance he was dispatched to make them go away. Samson liked working for the Geeks. They provided quiet accommodations, good food, and fine drink. They also paid him in gold or copper. These are the easiest commodities in which to barter with both the Wild Ones and the Elite. Because of the heavy pouch he carried, there were no banks that could be trusted, he was welcomed most anywhere. That ability being very helpful to a man in his line of work but it made him a constant target for thieves. He took it in stride because it kept him sharp.
Samson dressed in black, wore a black cloak, black wide brimmed hat and rode a great black stallion with black livery. He was neither handsome nor ugly. He was leathery and brown skinned; his long black hair was three- braided to his waist. He was clean-shaven and moved like a powerful cat. His pistol speed was awesome to watch, deadly if you were personally involved. He was feared as a nightmare and a fiend of the night. Most who found out he was coming, with a termination order for them, killed themselves praying for Gods mercy. They would get none from Samson. He had a reputation for creative and painfully long lasting dispatchments. The reputation deserved, or not, was good for business.
The world had changed.
The Elite were pampered; narrowly educated and avarice -based rich, whose selfish, greedy wealth, due to superior genes, helped their ancestors to ride out the Change in bunkers, in high-flying planes, and great ships. Some even in specially designed space vehicles, or so their historians wrote. These spawn of Old Families, Generals, Admirals, Politicians, Bishops and Heads of industry wanted their comfortable and polished version of the Old World to return.
The little people had created a world more closely related to the Wild West of the now defunct United States. A simpler world not bound by technology or the rules of economy. Law was a matter of power and convenience. None were hampered by the creations of intellect and curious science, but by need, sweat and fear. They were ruggedly individualistic, servants, laborers, farmers, miners, gamblers, carpenters, con men and thieves, prostitutes, highwaymen, muleskinners, blacksmiths, swindlers, ranchers, merchants, preachers, lawmen, and all armed to the teeth. The new economy was based on food, cunning, strength, cruelty, and weapons. Small towns flourished in the wilderness, springing up around the gold and copper mines that the New World valued. Tribal groups, both nomadic and agricultural also found purchase. Every experiment in social living was now realized on this new Earth.
The three worlds struck a balance and it worked - for a while.
Until the Elite scientists decided and convinced the other Elite that they wanted to send men to Mars. Mars became the new promise land. The Elite abducted Geeks and Wild Ones and forced them into servitude. In just ten years the New Moscow Space industry flourished, millions lived and flourished under its thrall and sway. It was a society based on class and greed and so - criminal entrepreneurs popped up everywhere in a world fueled by the holy creed of greed. Whatever you needed and for whatever you wanted it for - it was yours, for a price. Civilization was reborn.
Cassandra wanted to go to Mars; it was her Holy Grail. She wanted to synthesis her natural compounds. To have others do your bidding, without complaint, was the ultimate power. She would conquer Mars and be both worlds ultimate Pitch Women …for herself.
The Elite, since her escape, had figured out what she could do and, for that same reason, wanted their 'investment' - their 'property' - back. A huge reward of millions in gold was offered for her.
That's when the trouble really started.
The Geeks wanted a part of that vast reward and wanted a rightful place on Mars. They were exposed and lost a good deal of their brain trust to a pesky rash of Elite sponsored abductions. They had devised a plan for the money, the liberation of their own, and an appropriate revenge. They sent Samson to go get Cassandra, who they intended to hold for a much higher ransom.
The Geeks and the Elites wanted her and both groups contacted Samson. And he, liking both deals, took them both. He was not at all concerned that the deals were conflicting. Samson always trusted that all would come out just fine.
He saddled up and left the next night. He wanted to get on the road and get a line on where Cassandra was going. It was clear to him she had a plan, she was heading south to Moscow. The equatorial low land areas of Old Denver were wet and hot. It was the center of commerce in that region. The ore and coffee that pored out of the ground funded the development of the area. Although the underground facilities that created Cassandra were now closed, because they too were now exposed. The Elite never admitted to any such evil doings - it was their PR spin that they took care of the little people, bold face lies wielded by the rich for as long as there has been human history. It was, however, a place to start. Fremont in the territories of Nebrasky was a long way from the New Denver site. Samson decided that he would ride only at night and rest in the daylight hours. He expected trouble and people were always the cause. It's the nature of humans to create mischief particularly if they lacked an anchor of stability to define them. It didn't matter what great 'Lie' you 'Bannered' behind as long as enough of you followed it, and the subsequent hierarchy that benefits from it. When the world shook, and drowned, and burned the human ants on her skin, the many that lived through it got the 'truth' of it, and died for the knowing. Any human, with this new and bleak existentialism, that was moved to rape, mayhem, or murder were sought out and killed by the faithful-lost, in as gruesome a way as possible. These faithful wandered seeking any society to give them meaning. Samson had no use for philosophy - or religion - or those bent on creating experimental societies and the fictions they write down as law. In these times every Town, Village or Keep had its rules and regulations; unskilled or unwanted strangers fared badly for not knowing these complex edicts. Even the most minor offense was a capital crime if you were not a citizen, or related to one. Eliminating strangers was the newest and most popular entertainment. Sheriffs and Judges found plenty of unwilling participants, for all kinds of creative and bloody punishments, that always fared ill, and always fatal, for the stranger.
Samson however found his entertainment in dispatching as many Sheriffs and Judges as he could find. He considered himself Ronin. He identified with the concept of an honorable, but unconnected, Samurai. He had educated himself, trained himself and found balanced trust in his own thoughts and reasons for any action. That made him a very dangerous man. He felt no need for the machinations of some cunning and treacherous master or inflexible edict. Life is easier if you make it up, as you go, not that his way of living guaranteed a long and comfortable life.
ken lehnig (c) 2009
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Why is doing what you love the hardest thing to do? Is it because failing what you thought defined you would be too devastating a thing from which to recover? If so, we stay where mere accident has left us.
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Cassandra 10
