Chapter Nine:
Pretty Lies

     The word spread through the neighborhoods and subdivisions of Baton Rouge like a rampant strain of mutant influenza: the one named Louis had arrived in Discordia.  Everyone wanted a piece of the action.  The bounty for his head ranged from a small island off the Mississippi gulf coast, to a spell to control minds, one of the more difficult and forbidden forms of magic.  All the gods and devils from human mythology, and a number of deities that had nothing to do with people, gathered in the divine dimension to watch the unfolding scenario.  It was like Super Bowl Sunday, and there was only one minute to kickoff.  The forces of evil converged on the fortress known as the Pentacle from every direction.
     Most of the city’s neighborhoods provided a safe and peaceful environment to live in, back on Earth.  In Discordia most of the neighborhoods belonged to bands of evil warmongers, and every crew was named after the place they called home.  Street gangs on Earth were similar, but on Discordia the gangs were everywhere.  The notable exceptions were downtown, where the Pentacle stood as a bastion for the light, and the university area, where another fortress called the Quad had kept evil at bay for ten thousand years.
     The South Side Wrecking Crew rolled up from McKinley Street in Cadillacs and Lincolns with boom boxes beating out earthquake bass.  It was an extravagant show of their power; not that seven hundred athletic black men armed with machetes and shotguns needed cars to show their strength.  The Garden District Black Guard brought human sacrifices along for the trip, hoping to boost their chances at capturing Louis Comeaux with a few burnt offerings.  The Hundred Oaks Hundred boasted closer to five hundred members.  The veterans of the group rode up on their signature motorcycles, and took a position between the fortress and the river.  They tightened the gears on their compound bows, and waited for targets to turn into pincushions. 
     Every major mob turned out: the Bocage Bandits, the Highland Road Hellhounds, and the Valley Villains.  They all wanted the reward, but more than that they anxiously awaited the celebration that would follow the fall of the Pentacle.  The fortress had frustrated the progress of wickedness for far too long.  At last the time had arrived when a united front of evil would smash the place into a million pieces, and bathe in the blood of its defenders.  It was going to be quite a party.
     An incredible number of warriors arrived almost simultaneously under the cover of nightfall.  The fortress sentries were caught off guard.  Nobody inside had a chance to escape.  The siege forces waited in the tree line surrounding the fortress, well out of range of guns and bows.  The forces of evil never before coordinated their attacks or showed discipline.  After thousands of years of chaos, their tactics had changed overnight.  Something finally quieted the infighting among the tribes of the wicked.
     For their part the defenders lined the top of the wall surrounding the fortress.  They were outnumbered almost ten to one, and everyone knew it.  The night grew black as the pit.  Neither the moon nor the stars shone down upon the scene of the upcoming battle.  The defenders made peace with their creator, uncertain if they would live through another day.
     The Order of True Love gathered in a large circle on the roof of the small fortress.  The thirty acolytes had begun work on a long and complicated spell.  They would meditate and chant silently through the night, building the energy necessary to cast the enchantment.  The air was filled with positively charged ions, and the bystanders sensed the energy crackling within the confines of the circle of magicians.
     Jesus and Michael stood off to one side with Uri, engaged in a heated conversation.  Cara showed up to escort them to the roof just as the pair exited Michael’s room.  The woman didn’t want to be involved in their discussion with the high priest, so she joined the circle and aided in the stockpiling of magical energy.  The reason for her desire to remain aloof was apparent.  Jesus was angry, and his mood wasn’t improving.
     “Everyone knew that Louis’ presence would bring an unparalleled response from the bad guys.  I assumed that someone would have the common sense to send out scouts to alert the fortress to troop movements.  On top of that, nobody woke me up until we were completely surrounded.  I expected this assignment to be difficult, but I didn’t think it would be made more so by our allies,” the Colombian ranted as he paced back and forth.
     The blistering reprimand didn’t ruffle Uri in the slightest.  The old man waited for Jesus to run out of steam.  Uri’s parents were Russian emigrants, but the inscrutable expression on his face made him look like a wizened Chinese seer.  Jesus finally finished the tirade.  Uri conjured a small sphere of encryption, so that no enemy sorcerer listening from a distance could understand what he was about to say.
     “I understand and share your concerns, Señor Mendoza, but please allow me to answer your accusations.  Scouts were sent out to the north, south and east.  We can only assume that they were detected and killed before being able to report back.  I should add that the encircling forces arrived en masse.  We were surrounded before we knew what was happening, no more than fifteen minutes ago.  Nobody dawdled in waking you up.  However, none of those facts are of any benefit to us now that we are surrounded.  That’s all water under the bridge, as some would say.
     “I do have information that will be of immeasurable value.  As I told you, we escorted Louis to a safe room underneath the fortress when trouble started.  I understand your anxiousness to join with your ward, but I asked for your presence up here for a very good reason.  Do you see that stand of trees far down the river to the south?” 
     Uri did not point, but instead gazed in the direction of the copse. Jesus nodded affirmatively.  It was too dark to see naturally.  Uri planted a vision of the trees in Jesus mind, so that Jesus saw the scene as if it were daylight.
     Uri continued, “There is a tunnel under the fortress that runs three miles to the south and comes out in those trees.  The exit has a permanent ward on it that prevents its discovery.  You will be leaving through that tunnel, and shortly after that everyone else here will follow. 
     “I discussed the situation with Moira, and the fortress will be abandoned.  A small group of volunteers will remain behind to draw the fire of the attackers, and everyone else will flee for the Quad.  The Pentacle was not designed to withstand an attack of this magnitude, and it would mean certain death to stay.  The Quad stood through a much more determined siege eight thousand years ago, and we believe that it will stand again easily.
     “You, Michael and Louis should precede the wholesale evacuation.  The ploy won’t last for long, and our flight is bound to turn into a running firefight.  It would be safest if you weren’t with the group,” Uri finished.
     “Oh, it will be much safer for you, that’s for sure.  As soon as they realize Louis isn’t with you, they’ll break off the attack and look for us,” Jesus noted bitterly.  “I know that you are right, though.  If we hole up in the Quad, then sooner or later they will take us down.  Evil has a world full of reinforcements, and we won’t have any.  We have no choice.”
     “We took the liberty of bringing your car into the stockade while you were sleeping.  You didn’t have anything with you, so we assumed your belongings were in the vehicle,” Uri changed the subject.  The old magician didn’t want any part of their troubles.  He was a good guy, but he hadn’t been a good guy for very long.  He still looked out for number one.
     “That’s a good thing, at least.  There’s a rocket launcher in the trunk.  Give it to the volunteers who stay behind.  I’m taking the M16 with me, but I can’t carry all the ammo.  If anybody here needs 5.56, then dole out what I leave behind.  It’s the least I can do.  Now point me in the right direction.  I’m tired of talking,” Jesus poured out all of the statements in one big breath.  The promise of battle affected him like amphetamines.  He was wired for sound.
     “Cara will escort you to Louis.  I will send someone for the rifle and the ammo you mentioned, to save time,” Uri provided helpfully.  Uri was relieved that Jesus hadn’t asked for acolytes to accompany him, or insisted on traveling to the Quad.
     Jesus marched over to Cara and pulled her out of the circle by the fabric of one of her robes.  Irritation spread over her features, but she didn’t make an issue out of the assassin’s behavior.  They headed for the stairs.
     Uri said his farewell to the priest, “Father Michael, I wish we could have spent time together under more pleasant circumstances.  You have all of my prayers, for whatever they’re worth.”
          “Prayer is worth more than any human knows.   Hope that we will meet again one day, Uri,” Michael called over his shoulder as he rushed off to keep up with Jesus and Cara.
     The three entered the stairwell to descend to the basement when they bumped into Lena and Rosie.  Michael had forgotten all about them.  The look on Jesus’ face indicated the Colombian hadn’t included them in his planning either.  Lena saw the look, and set her jaw in grim determination.
     “Where are you going, Jesus?” Lena demanded without the slightest concern for politeness.
     “We’re, uh, leaving.  Everybody’s leaving.  These people will take good care of you, though, Lena.  You’ll be safe with them,” Jesus told her.  She was blocking his path, and he attempted to move past her.
     Lena stepped directly in front of him and said, “No.  Absolutely not.  No.”
     Jesus found himself looking directly at her latex covered breasts, and almost forgot what they were talking about.  He looked up into her face and asked, “No?  No what?  What do you mean no?”
     “We’re coming with you, Jesus.  What did you think?  That you could just leave us behind?”
     “You really will be safer with the soldiers, Lena,” Cara put in.
     “All of those evil people out there will be coming after Jesus and Louis and I,” Michael added.
     “Your objections are duly noted.  You brought me here, Jesus Mendoza, and I’m staying with you,” Lena informed them adamantly.
     “And I’m staying with both of you,” Rosie spoke up from the stairs.  She sounded about as certain as a bride with cold feet, but she had made up her mind.  “You’re the closest thing to friends I have in this dimension.”
     “Do as you like, girls, but I can’t promise that I can protect you.  Meanwhile, please get out of the way.  We are in a very big hurry.  Every second we stand here helps our enemies,” Jesus said angrily.  Lena got out of his way, but she kept up as he bounded down the stairs.
     The five of them hurdled down the fourteen flights of stairs to come out in the basement of the fortress.  The basement was a massive affair that stretched out like a section of Carlsbad Caverns, as far as the eye could see.  The lighting ended long before the rock walls did.  Everybody knew that there weren’t any caves in the muddy Louisiana ground, which was why the designers of the fortress thought the caverns were such a good idea.  Nobody would storm the fortress with the intent of checking the caverns.  Cara was the only one of the group who appreciated their surroundings.  None of the others gave the caverns much thought.
     Louis was with two female soldiers not far from the stairs, and further inside the cavern there were five horses tethered in a line.  The horses were anxious, because they could sense the apprehension of the people.  The women were the same two who rode out to meet Jesus and the girls.  The one with the scar introduced herself as Dorothy, and she introduced her fair companion as Elizabeth.  The two were heavily armed, but compound bows were still their ready weapons.
     While introductions were made all around, two runners arrived with Jesus’ M16 and five cases of ammo.  They put the goods down. One of them told the assassin, “Nobody here has .223, sir.  You may as well take it all.”  Jesus nodded, and they hurried back up the stairs.
     “We weren’t expecting this many people,” Dorothy admitted, “so there are only five horses.  We can send for more horses, but it will take time.  We have sleeping gear and basic essentials for five people.”
     “I’m not going with you,” Cara announced.  She hugged Louis and told him, “Take care of yourself, Louis Comeaux.  I want you to have gained twenty pounds by the next time I see you.” 
     The two female warriors exchanged glances.  They knew that Cara never displayed affection openly.  What they saw convinced them she must be attracted to extremely frail younger men.  Dorothy whispered to Elizabeth, “I knew she was the domineering type.”  Elizabeth giggled.
     Jesus wasn’t paying any attention to the little drama.  He busted open one of the cases of 5.56, and removed the two hundred round blister packs from the wooden box.  He threw a couple of the blister packs to the idle priest, and instructed him to help load them into the saddlebags.  Louis saw what they were doing and rushed over to help.
     “You never answered my question about the horses,” Dorothy reminded Jesus.
     “I didn’t realize you asked a question.  Even if there was time to get more horses, I don’t think most of these people can ride.  Louis, have you ever ridden a horse?”
     “No,” the young man admitted.
     “That means you’re riding behind me,” Jesus told him.  “I assume your presence indicates that you two ladies are coming with us.  Dorothy, would you mind if Rosie rides behind you?”
     “I am an excellent rider, thank you very much,” Rosie spoke up.  “Do you think all women are incapable, Jesus?  I’ll have you know I won many awards for my equestrian skills.”
     “That’s great, Rosie.  Whatever.  How about you Lena?  Were you bareback rider of the month as well?”  Jesus grunted the questions as he broke open another case of ammo.
     Lena got a brief mental image of Jesus riding her bare back, and she focused to make it disappear.  She tried to keep her sexuality at bay, but it had always been a big part of her life.  That was why she hated to say no to the Colombian.  She told the truth anyway, “No, Jesus, I don’t know how to ride a horse.”
     “I can handle you,” Dorothy volunteered.  Lena blushed, because as disgusting as she found her own thoughts, her mind never stopped working.
     Michael spoke up, “I’ve never ridden a horse before.  What do I do?”
     Jesus rolled his eyes and said cynically, “Christ, help your servant.  Elizabeth, do you think you can ride with the good father?  We are leaving right now.  Which horse do Louis and I get?”
     They all mounted, and Dorothy led the way into the caverns.  She was chosen to escort them because she knew the way to the surface, and very few people in the fortress did.  Dorothy was also a fierce fighter, as anyone who looked at her might have guessed.  Elizabeth was along because she and Dorothy were lovers.  Elizabeth wasn’t just another pretty face, though.  She was highly skilled at archery, and she had a gift for communicating with horses.  Elizabeth followed right behind Dorothy.
     Jesus and Louis were next in line, with Rosie right behind them.  Dorothy and Elizabeth insisted they bring the extra horse, because they hated to leave the steed behind.  They tethered the unburdened horse to Rosie’s mount, pointing out that it wasn’t difficult to learn how to ride.  They also pointed out that having a fresh horse could mean the difference between life and death in a cross-country chase.
     They traveled down an increasingly narrow passage beneath the earth in near absolute darkness.  Louis’ flashlight he brought from home provided the only light, but Dorothy didn’t need it to find her way.  The rode in silence for about thirty minutes before the ground rumbled.  The battle at the Pentacle was underway.
     “Damn.  I hoped we would have more time,” Jesus complained loudly.
     “We have more time than you may think.  Moira let me in on the battle plan,” Dorothy spoke from the lead.  “The sound you heard was probably the Order’s spell taking effect.  The spell is the key to everyone’s survival.  The attackers will see a full host of soldiers defending the fortress; in reality there will be fewer than twenty.  Right now the majority of the Pentacle’s forces are following through the caves behind us.  It will take hundreds of people a lot longer to traverse this tunnel than it will us, but that’s not why we have more time.”
     Jesus thought she had a real flair for the dramatic as he waited for her to reveal the secret.  Dorothy intoned gravely, “When the last defender falls, a countdown will begin.  Sixty seconds after the Pentacle belongs to evil, the entire place is going to implode.  The rear of this tunnel will be sealed.  There will be no significant underground pursuit.”
     “God have mercy on the men that stayed behind,” Michael said reverently.
     “Moira stayed behind.  She wouldn’t abandon her post, and most of her honor guard stayed with her.  Our lives are being saved by eighteen women,” Elizabeth revealed sorrowfully.  “She saved my life once before.  I should have stayed with her, but Moira ordered Dorothy and I to lead you through the caverns.  She wanted me to live.”  Tears ran down Elizabeth’s cheeks, but the darkness hid the sight.
     Louis spoke up in a voice that sounded alien to his body.  “I promise you that she will not have sacrificed her life in vain.  When I have the stone, everything is going to change.”
     The sound of Louis’ voice sent chill bumps down Jesus’ spine.  He knew that it was not the young man speaking.  The powerful being inside of Louis was slowly rising to the surface.  Jesus hoped for the best, but feared for the worst.  He wondered what it would mean to his mission if Louis disappeared altogether.
     Michael heard the difference too.  The priest still didn’t know how to approach his God appointed task.  He spent the day talking to Louis about God and salvation, while Jesus slept.  Louis had a flippant attitude about religion, and only listened to things he wanted to hear.  Michael felt no closer to saving the young man than he had before he started.  The sound of Louis’ voice in the dark tunnel worried the priest.
     Rosie rode behind them in silence.  She hoped she made the right decision accompanying the small group.  Lena and Jesus had saved her life once already, and she hated to lose the only friends she had in such a harsh place.  She felt discouraged by the men’s aloofness, however, and began to experience acute loneliness at the back of the line.  She was thoroughly depressed when they reached the tunnel’s exit.
     When Dorothy passed a point in the tunnel, a power circle lit up on a large metal plate blocking the exit.  It contained the symbols that hid the exit and allowed the giant plate to be opened and closed.  Dorothy dismounted from her horse and approached the power circle.  She touched several of the symbols in a rapid sequence, and the plate rolled out of the way.  They all rode forward into the fresh air.
    It was midnight, but there was moonlight outside the tunnel.  The darkness over the fortress was the result of sorcery, and it did not extend that far down the river.  They were all relieved that there would be some light by which to ride the horses.  The disconcerting blackness of the tunnel had taken a toll on their morale.
     “I know where we are.  Everyone try to keep up.  We must make haste down the river,” Jesus called out as he kicked his horse into a gallop. 
     The others followed as Jesus set an insane pace for the swamps to the south.  Nobody looked back at the light show cast into the night sky by the fighting at the Pentacle.  Nobody wanted to dwell on the death and the suffering that was the inevitable product of such battles.  The small group was three miles south of Baton Rouge and riding hard when the night sky turned a brilliant white.  The sound of a thousand claps of thunder rolled down the river and washed over them.  It sounded like the heavens had burst.  The Pentacle had fallen, and the spell had taken effect.
     “Moira is lost!” Elizabeth cried out to the sky and the earth and the river.  Her grief was inconsolable.

     As the small, ragtag band of adventurers set off through the caverns beneath the fortress, the army of the Pentacle prepared to make a dash for the older, more secure fortress a few miles away.  Moira gave a direct order for all regular troops to abandon their posts.  Several hundred men and women  marched hastily down the stairs and into the caverns.  All of the members of the Order of True Love accompanied the soldiers.  The powerful spell cast by Uri and his acolytes covered their escape, so that the forces of evil would not know they were leaving.
     Moira kept it a secret that she intended to remain behind when the other forces fled through the tunnels.  Moira’s second in command, a warlord known as Scorn, caught wind of what was really taking place.  He disobeyed his orders to lead the escape.  Instead he left that in the capable hands of Uri and the Order.  He spread the word to a few of his best fighters that he was staying behind with Moira.
     Scorn and twenty of his men joined Moira and her ladies on the walls.  Moira showered Scorn with curses and insults, but she was gladdened at the sight of her closest friend.  She had known that he would never leave her.  Scorn, for his part, accused her of trying to steal the glory, and denounced her plan to exclude him.  His words didn’t hide his meaning.  He would be at her side when the end came, no matter the numbers they faced. 
     To the enemy the defenders looked like hundreds of warriors.  That was little consolation to the defenders.  Twenty feet of space separated each soldier from the next closest ally.  The defenders didn’t intend to hold the walls for long.  Their presence was merely a ruse anyway, a ruse that they would buy with their lives.
     The forces of evil received the order to attack, and sorcery glowed among their ranks as they charged.  Fireballs and lightning bolts crossed the distance between the forces on the ground and the wall.  Magic spells lit up the night sky.  Gunfire erupted when thousands of evil men drew within range of the walls.  Bodies littered the ground before the fortress walls, but the charge never faltered.
     The men who reached the stockade hurled grappling hooks over the top and began to climb.  One woman shot a rocket into the attackers, and forty or more twisted men felt the agony of their demise.  Bullets and arrows filled the air around the defenders, and the men and women on the walls were failing fast.  The attackers paid dearly for their success, but Moira was forced to sound a retreat.  She had hoped to hold the wall a little longer, but she knew it was no use.  Her only choice was to retreat.
     Half of Moira’s people got isolated on the far side of the fortress, and were cut down like dogs.  Only Moira and Scorn, and a few men and women, reached the interior of the fortress.  They quickly barred the giant doors.  Within seconds the enemy could be heard on the other side.  Moira ordered her small force back, away from the door and onto the stairs.  The door exploded inward with a deafening boom, and smoke filled the air. 
     Hundreds of bloodthirsty warriors ran through the shattered frame, only to meet death and injury at the hands of the few remaining defenders.  The attackers were jubilant about how easily they breached the walls of the fortress. They never even noticed that the fortress was practically empty.  Bloodlust took control of the mob of evil men.  They charged up the stairs at the last guardians of the Pentacle again and again, and each time there were fewer defenders left standing. 
     There was so much gunfire that many of the attackers in the front ran out of ammunition.  Unable to turn back because of the press of people behind them, they flung themselves at Moira and her people armed only with knives and sticks.  The number of attackers pushing up the stairs could not be measured.  Though they climbed over piles of dead bodies, they never faltered in their effort to exterminate the defenders of the Pentacle.  Within a few minutes the only defenders left were Moira and Scorn.
     Moira had been shot at least thirty times.  Blood streamed out of her from wounds that would have been fatal to any ordinary human being.  Moira was a warlord.  She would not die easily.  She used guns early on, but eventually ran out of ammo.  After that, every man who came within her reach went down.  She swung her great mace Nutcracker with such force that men’s bodies were hurled right and left like rag dolls, but the terrible advance continued unabated.
     Scorn stood by her side as they backed up the stairs.  Bullet wounds decorated his chest and his abdomen, and it seemed there was no end to the blood the man contained.  He wielded a great sword called Judgment, and none that were cut by the blade survived.  Scorn hacked clean through men’s torsos, legs and arms, and he never seemed to tire.
     Scorn and Moira backed halfway up to the third floor when the crowd came to its senses.  Loaded guns were passed to the front.  The two champions didn’t stand a chance, so they charged into the gunfire.  Scorn skewered four people with Judgment as he flung himself down the stairs.  A bullet to his brain took all the fight out of him. 
     Moira fought on with fifty or more bullets inside her, taking another fifteen men down to hell after Scorn fell.  She finally slumped to the ground with her giant mace still clutched tightly in her fists.  The men who killed her were awed to silence.  They had never seen such courage.
     Their reverence was cut short.  The fortress turned into a giant ball of energy, and imploded with the power of a sun gone supernova.  The power involved to destroy the fortress was so great that it had to be directed inward.  If it had been directed outward, then most of the city would have been vaporized.  The fortress was too important to give to the power of evil, however, so it had to be destroyed.  The hundreds of evil attackers who survived the blast felt lucky indeed, and set about the task of finding out what happened.  It was hours before their sorcerers learned that the fortress had been abandoned.  The Order’s magic had worked beyond all expectations.
     Years later, songs would be sung of Moira and Scorn and how they faced an army alone.  Their heroism was never forgotten.  Instead it grew with every telling.  Within a thousand years, songs told of the victory won that day.  Songs told of how Moira and Scorn won the battle, and walked out of the fortress hand in hand to live happily ever after.
     Nobody ever liked the ugly truth.  People have always preferred pretty lies.  Where once stood a glorious fortress beside the Mississippi River, there was only a gigantic crater six hundred feet in diameter and two hundred feet deep.  The crater testified to the true story of what happened to Moira the Red and her loyal friend Scorn.  They died a bloody death at the hands of mindless, evil people, but they gave their lives so that others could live.  The truth meant more than any fairy tale, in a savage place where no fairy would ever fly.

Chapter Ten:
The House in Ascension Parish

     The timber that floated down the Mississippi River resembled monsters and water folk, as soft moonlight cast its glow down on the mighty current.  The waves slapped at the shore in syncopated rhythm, setting an impossibly complex beat for a song that whispered on the breeze and slithered through the thickest thickets.  The path that followed the riverbank crossed dimensional barriers, and was much like the path that followed the banks of every river everywhere.  The seven people riding four horses on that path were unique to Discordia, however.  No other place had ever witnessed such an occurrence.
     Jesus rode first down the narrow game path, and then Dorothy, with Louis and Lena holding tightly to their backs.  Lena couldn’t believe Jesus would rather have a man’s arms around him than hers.  Jesus had thought about that very fact a few miles into their ride, but he didn’t want to stop so soon.  The assassin had already decided to swap Louis for Lena.  Jesus noticed the dirty looks she kept giving him.
     Not far behind Dorothy, Michael held on to Elizabeth on the back of her horse.  He dwarfed the attractive warrior, and the sight was slightly ridiculous.  Rosie brought up the rear, except for one rider-less black and white stallion.  The unencumbered horse looked content, but everybody else showed signs of increasingly poor temperament.  They looked and felt stupid riding two to a horse, and Rosie felt totally alienated at the end of the line.  Their frustrations were about to boil over.
     “I can’t believe you had a totally tricked out 1964 gangster, and we’re riding freakin’ horses,” Louis’ griped.
     “I can’t believe we’re partnered off with the same sex,” Lena grumbled.
     “I can’t figure out why I haven’t thrown you from the back of my horse yet, princess,” Dorothy menaced Lena.
     “Can you all keep it to yourselves until daylight?” Jesus beseeched, but he didn’t believe it would happen.
     “I’m sick of riding back here with no one to talk to,” Rosie spoke up loud enough to be heard in Lafayette.
     “I do have to use the bathroom,” Elizabeth offered on behalf of everyone who wanted to stop, “and I’m not peeing in the saddle, Jesus.”
     “I’m glad you said something, Elizabeth.  I’ve had to go for an hour,” Michael gushed.  “The sooner we take care of this, the sooner I’ll quit worrying my bladder will explode.”
     “Okay! I get it!” Jesus acquiesced rudely.  “Let’s take a few minutes.  Try not to get bitten by a snake, or fall in the river.”  He was only half joking.
     The riders reined in their horses, and everybody dismounted.  Michael sprinted into the dark trees.  Even though he was in a hell dimension, he still couldn’t bring himself to urinate in front of women.  Elizabeth walked a few feet into the undergrowth, pulled up her skirt and squatted down.  Lena made for the trees, but Rosie chose the undergrowth.  Jesus thought he might be watching a nature show on the urination practices of the human animal.  He noticed that Dorothy was watching him observe the other people.  The two laughed simultaneously.
     “Well, which are you, Dorothy?  A bushes person or a trees person?” Jesus giggled.  The sound was refreshing, because it rarely came out of him.
     “I’m a woman who waits with the horses until everyone else is finished,” she answered with a smile, “and then goes in the trees.”
     “Funny, I would have taken you for a bushes person,” Jesus disclosed honestly.
     “What about you, Jesus?  Are you so uptight that you sweat out all your urine?”
     “I’m so dehydrated that I’m seriously beginning to consider drinking river water.  I didn’t get anything to eat or drink back at the fortress, and I didn’t bring anything with me.  There’s a canteen on the horse, but it’s empty.  I know only a couple of basic transmutation spells, and the process takes me half an hour,” the assassin lamented.
     “You are wound too tight.  Why didn’t you say something?  If you’re leading us, then you have to keep your strength up.  Hunger is bad, but dehydration will take you right out of the game,” Dorothy lectured him.
     “I’ve been through much, much worse.  I wanted to put as much distance between ourselves and Baton Rouge as possible, but we’re stopped now.  So, Dorothy, do you have anything to eat or drink?”
     “I just fight.  That’s Elizabeth’s department.”  Dorothy turned and called out, “Elizabeth.  We need clean water, and something to eat.”
     “Coming right up,” Elizabeth answered as she stood up.
     Everybody returned to the horses from out of the night.  Elizabeth picked her way down to the river and filled up all the canteens.  She wasn’t sure how they forgot to fill them up, but it didn’t matter.  On the way back to the horses she said some words over the water.  The canteens glowed briefly.  She handed one to Jesus, who showed his trust by drinking long gulps of the river water.  Elizabeth passed out the rest of the canteens, and everybody drank.
     Elizabeth gathered some grass and soil into a straw bowl.  She said some words over the bowl, and a soft glow obscured the contents.  When the glow subsided there was a long loaf of bread poking out.  She passed the loaf to Jesus, who broke off a piece and passed it on.
     Jesus climbed into his saddle before a conversation could start.  He was anxious to get underway.  He didn’t think they could afford the time to stand around and talk.  Once he was mounted, he addressed the issue of seating and riding order.
     “Lena, I want you with me,” Jesus told the young woman.  She beamed and took his hand.  She snuggled up against him after she was in the saddle. 
     Rosie looked totally jealous, so Jesus addressed her next.  “Rosie, I want you right behind us with Louis, so you three can talk quietly.  Keep it very quiet, though.  We have no idea where the hell we are.”  Both Rosie and Louis looked appeased by the idea.
     Michael volunteered, “I’m sure I can stay on a horse as long as we ride at this pace.”  The group slowed down after they left the city.  To prove his point Michael walked over to the black and white stallion and climbed into the saddle.  The stallion liked the attention.
     Dorothy put in, “I’m going to bring up the rear, in case of attack.”
     “I’m with Dorothy at the rear,” Elizabeth sounded off.
     “Michael, I want you between us and the veterans,” Jesus told the priest.
     When everybody got situated the horses cantered down the path once more.  Sunrise was still an hour away, and the only thing evident about the scenery was the river.  The path followed the course of the river, which meant the party was riding below the level of the surrounding areas.  They wouldn’t have been able too see the countryside even in broad daylight.  That was partially a good thing, because nobody could see them.  It was also a bad thing.  They could be riding through a densely populated conclave of evil, and they wouldn’t know it.  For that reason Jesus insisted they converse only in hushed voices.
     “Your parents were murdered and you wound up here?  That’s terrible, Louis,” Rosie whispered sympathetically after the young man spilled his sob story.
     “I don’t feel sorry for you, Louis.  So your parents were murdered.  You can’t keep using that as an excuse to live in misery forever.  Your parents would want you to move on.  I think destroying your life insulted their memories.  Let me ask you a question.  If you went back home right now, would you pick up where you left off?  Would you start using heroin again?”  Lena grilled him at length.
     “No, I definitely would not.  I’ve been through too much, and I’ve seen too many things.  Besides, I think the Order of True Love cured me of the addiction,” he answered.  “If I were to go home right now, there’s a girl I would like to see.  She won’t see me until I take care of a few things, so my goal would be to get my life straight.  After that I would look her up.”
     “That’s sweet, Louis.  What’s her name?” Rosie inquired with a slight touch of jealousy in her tone.  Louis was holding on to her, but talking about another girl.
     “Her name is Paula.  I only met her one time, but it was like I fell in love with her on the spot.  The demon who sent me here said it was just lust, but what would he know about it,” Louis muttered.
     Jesus listened to the conversation.  He asked, “What was the name of the demon who opened the portal, Louis?”
     “His name was Sirius.”
     “Don’t worry about anything he said, Louis.  I’ve met Sirius, and he’s a total loser.  If you really felt love, then that’s what it was.  Don’t let anything else change your mind about it,” Jesus reassured him.
     “Fat lot of good it does me right now, though.  I’m on my way to fight a major devil, and I’m almost as worried about winning as I am about losing.  I can feel something waking up.  Actually, it feels like someone is waking up inside of me.  My thoughts keep rushing through my head, and I don’t understand them all.  I’m afraid that whatever lives inside me will destroy me when it comes to the surface,” Louis revealed.  “I don’t want to be swallowed up.  I don’t want to lose my humanity.”
     Michael had strained his ears to listen for quite a while.  He kept his horse very close to Rosie’s.  When Louis began to open up, Michael knew that it was time to join the conversation.  He had found a new angle to approach Louis’ problem.
     “I think your feelings of love are critical to your survival, Louis.  You did nothing but deaden all your emotions after your parents were killed.  You didn’t feel love for anyone, until you met Paula.  Even though you only felt it for a short period of time, you experienced love again.  I am positive it was very genuine.  That’s why the demon Sirius belittled it, and that’s why Asmodeus attacked her in your dream.  The devils wanted to extinguish the love inside of you.  Love is the key to your survival, Louis.  Love is the ingredient you need to overcome everything reality can throw at you,” Michael finished what he considered his most inspired sermon to date.
     “That’s the first thing you’ve tried to convince me of that I found rational, Father Flannery,” Louis said quietly.  “I believe that, but I’m not sure how it will help me.  I felt love for Paula, but I didn’t have time to get to know her better.”
     ““It isn’t about Paula, Louis.  She’s just a girl you met.  Love is the answer; love in general.  You were so junked out that your feeling of love for her may have constituted the last bit of love in your entire being.  I am sure that you need to cultivate that feeling.  Love and God are basically the same thing, Louis.  Don’t tune me out just because I said God.  You want to survive, and I want you to survive.  To do that you’re going to have to let love into your heart,” the priest lectured.
     “I could help you, Louis,” Rosie offered innocently.  “I liked Michael’s solution.  Love is a good thing, and I haven’t heard any better ideas.  I could show you love, Louis.  Maybe you could even love me back.”
     “That’s very sweet, Rosie.  It makes me feel nice that you care enough to offer,” Louis expressed his appreciation in a sincere tone, but he was very turned on by what she said.
     Louis felt his manhood stir against Rosie’s back, and from the way she stiffened she felt it too.  Louis yearned for sexual intimacy.  The last time Louis had sex was before he got strung out.  Rosie’s offer sounded better and better.  Every step the horse took caused him to rub against his pants, and worsened his condition.  Rosie arched her back and leaned back into him, to increase the contact between them.  Nobody noticed what they were doing in the predawn darkness, but the sudden silence indicated something.
     “Not right now, Rosie.  You’ll drive me crazy.  We have to wait until we get somewhere safe to bed down, whenever that may be,” Louis whispered into her ear softly.
     The conversation about love drove Lena to once again obsess about the man she was holding.  She wished it wasn’t the middle of the summer, because it was too hot to really enjoy the snuggling.  After Jesus complained of the heat she peeled herself off of him.  The idea of rubbing her sweaty body against his hadn’t fully left her mind since she climbed up on the horse.  The constant bouncing in the saddle was making her horny as hell.  It certainly wasn’t improving Jesus’ chances of getting away from her.
     Jesus was not thinking about sex or love or Lena.  He was focused on survival.  His companions worried him deeply.  They didn’t seem to grasp the seriousness of their situation.  Jesus wanted to keep everyone safe, and he needed their help to do it.  He considered advising Louis and the girls about the procedures they were to follow in the event of danger.  Jesus listed survival priorities in his mind.  He made it to number three, “Where to meet if separated.”  That was when Lena’s hand found it’s way into his crotch.
    “What are you doing, Lena?” he hissed as quietly as he could manage.  He didn’t want the other members of the party to hear him.
     Lena pulled in very close to him, like she was going to whisper a response into his ear.  Instead she drew his earlobe into her mouth and sucked on it.  He tried to pull away, but they were entwined on the back of the horse.  He couldn’t get far.  Lena wrapped her other arm tightly around his chest, and pressed her chest against his back.  Every single hair on his body was standing on end, and her actions were having the effect she desired.
     “I want you so bad, Jesus,” she breathed into his ear.
     “Normally I would definitely take you up on that offer, Lena, but right now is not a particularly good time.  Please don’t get upset.  As soon as we find ourselves in a safer place, I promise you we can enjoy each other’s company as long as you like.  But not right now,” he told her through gritted teeth. 
     Lena worked on the zipper of Jesus’ jeans while he feebly attempted to stop her.  The problem was that he didn’t want her to stop.  He was tired of having to remain on constant alert.  He spent two thousand years on high alert, and he didn’t want to do it anymore.  He wanted to get off of the horse and throw Lena to the ground, but that would not help their situation.  He intended to get them out of Discordia.  Until then they weren’t safe to play sexual games.  Jesus found one last pocket of resolve inside himself, and pulled Lena’s hand off of his crotch.
     “You really promise, Jesus?” she asked him.  Fear of betrayal lingered in the sound of her voice.
     “I promise, Lena.  If we live through this, then we can have sex until neither one of us can walk.”
     “I’m going to hold you to that,” Lena pledged. 
     As a show of trust she backed off of him slightly.  She could feel the slight breeze cooling the sweat on her chest, but her stomach remained miserably hot.  She reminded herself to find another top as soon as possible.  The latex made her look fantastic, but it wasn’t the right fabric for a Louisiana summer.  She bet Moonshadow, the girl who picked it out for her, had no idea what warm, sweaty latex felt like.
     At the rear of the party Elizabeth and Dorothy were carrying on a quiet conversation of their own.  Dorothy evinced the friendlier personality of the two, contrary to her forbidding appearance.  Elizabeth constantly searched Dorothy’s expressions before speaking up about a subject, and she gave the larger, more masculine woman more than an average amount of attention.  The two shared an obvious bond, which Elizabeth took very seriously.
     “Do you think they know we love each other?” Elizabeth made almost no sound as she asked the question.
     “I don’t think so.  I know how uptight you are about us, but I get the feeling that we aren’t among the most judgmental people around.  For heaven’s sake, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.  I don’t think it would be the end of the world if they found out,” Dorothy murmured in a subdued tone.
     “I don’t trust easily.  You know that.  If they disapproved of us, then they might be slow to help us in a jam,” the fair woman whispered back.
     “Nobody here would willingly allow us to come to harm, Beth.  I’m sure of that.  The priest might frown upon our relationship, but I wager he would lay his life down for any of us.  We’re in good company.”
     “That’s what I thought too, Dorothy.  I wanted to make sure you agreed with me, in case I felt like touching you later.”
     “I will never understand why you’re attracted to me, Beth.  You could have anyone, man or woman.  I’m probably the ugliest woman in Discordia.  Why me?”
     “No, Dorothy, you’re beautiful.  And I love you.”
     “I guess I should believe you.  That’s what you always say.”
     The priest in front of Elizabeth caught fragments of their conversation.  He shrugged and smiled.  Michael surmised early on that the two warrior women were lovers, but it wasn’t because he bought into any stereotype.  He noticed the way they exchanged glances.  The night wasn’t dark enough to conceal their relationship.  He disagreed with their choices for personal and religious reasons, but as a Christian he withheld judgment.  It was not his place to presume to know best for everyone.
     Louis disturbed the hushed atmosphere by speaking loud enough for everyone to hear.  “Discordia doesn’t exist anyway.  I know I’m back in my house in Spanish Town, sleeping or heavily hallucinating.  There’s no way this is real.  I experience it through my five senses, but perceptions can be altered.  An altered mental state would mean altered perception of sensory information. 
     “The problem is that none of this makes any sense.  My parents get murdered for no reason.  A demon crawls out of my brain and transports me into a Dungeons and Dragons reality, or wherever the hell it is.  I kick heroin during an afternoon nap.  I’m still in Louisiana, only it’s full of street gangs with names right out of Sesame Street.  You know, the Sesame Street Samurai.  How much of this bullshit am I supposed to believe?  We’re riding horses in the middle of the night.  Don’t forget we can turn bread into grass and drink straight from the Mississippi.  I just need a break.  Can I please catch a freakin’ break here?
     “You’re all going to tell me that this is real, that this is Discordia.  Mystical magical Discordia, where things are as normal as we need them to be, and scary enough to make a good campfire story.  Well, I don’t believe it.  Screw you guys, I’m going home,” Louis concluded.  The horses continued to plod along.
     “You don’t think I’m real, Louis?” Rosie sniffled, her feelings hurt.
     “Weren’t your parents murdered in normal reality?” Lena expressed her confusion.  Louis ignored that question.
     “It’s not you, Rosie, it’s this place.  Something isn’t right.  It’s too much like home to be so different,” Louis muttered.
     “And then Louis cracked up, unable to grasp the idea of alternate dimensions,” Jesus announced to nobody in particular.  “It’s the same, yet different; real cutting edge stuff.  Get a grip, Louis.  Also, for your information, I can see in this light, and so can the horses.  Riding horses by moonlight is no big feat.”
     “I don’t think I explained myself too well, Jesus.  I can’t find the words I want to use.  Maybe the words don’t exist.  I do not believe Discordia is a real place.  I think it may be a dream state that we are all experiencing,” Louis groped for understanding.
     “Until you figure it out, Louis, try to remember that death here is real.  Pain here is real.  If you don’t believe me, then ask Rosie about it.  Ask Dorothy or Elizabeth,” Jesus admonished, weary of Louis’ melodramatic doubts.
     “It looked pretty real to me,” Lena added.
     Louis decided to shut up about it until he had a clearer idea of what he wanted to say.  That was good, because he was wrong.  Discordia existed as surely as Earth existed.  They were two identical places with different characteristics.
     Jesus knew more about dimensional travel than the other members of the party, having traveled back and forth between Earth and Discordia hundreds of times.  He didn’t publicize that fact anymore.  People always wanted him to send them home when they found out he could cross dimensions.  His abilities were severely limited.  The contract he made with Belial guaranteed his return to Discordia after every trip, and nobody was allowed to tag along.  Jesus hated fine print.
     The pale light of dawn spread out over the lush Louisiana undergrowth, and everybody relaxed somewhat.  At least if trouble approached they would all see it coming.  The path they followed looked tiny in the daylight, and it wound through a wildly overgrown bottom.  Saw palmetto and Johnson grass dominated the floral species beside the track.  A short distance away a stretch of forest followed the river as far as the eye could see in either direction.  The green of the forest pleased the eye.  Ancient cypress trees, live oaks and mimosas stood out in a jungle of sassafras.  The area looked totally uninhabited.
     The veterans in the party agreed on the absolute necessity of leaving the river.  The Mississippi zigzagged back and forth like the track of a dying earthworm.  Though they traveled close to forty miles along the course of the waterway, they were only twenty-five miles closer to New Orleans.  Jesus volunteered to scout the surrounding area before they left the secluded game trail.
     Everybody dismounted in the rays of the newly risen sun.  Jesus set off without preamble, taking only the pistols on his belt for self-defense.  Elizabeth refilled all the canteens and transmuted more bread, which everyone partook of greedily.  Thousands of birds began their daily lives in the nearby forest, sending a cacophony of whistles and chatter into the sky.  By daylight the driftwood in the river’s current floated lazily by, without provoking sinister introspection.  It was exactly like a deserted stretch of the Mississippi River back on Earth, right down to the stifling temperature that rose by the second with the sun.
     “One thing worries me, Dorothy.  We rode out of that tunnel with five horses, and we’ve ridden on soft ground all night.  I checked out the trail behind us, and I could follow it with my eyes closed.  Won’t the bad guys have trackers?” Louis inquired uneasily.
     Elizabeth answered, “I specialize in equestrian magic.  One of the more difficult spells I mastered hides tracks.  For the first few hours of our ride we left no tracks.  I have limited power, like everyone else, so the Order boosted the strength of my spell.  It still wore off, but only after many hours.  It’s unlikely that anyone will follow the riverbed until they find our trail, but that’s a risk we have to take.”
     Michael peered hopefully at the river.  The long night of riding left him dirty and sore.  The water looked cool and inviting.  He knew the current in the deeper part of the river could drown even the strongest swimmer, but the slow moving shallows by the bank didn’t appear too dangerous.
     “Does anyone want to go for a quick swim?” Michael asked cheerfully.
     “I do!” Rosie was ebullient at the suggestion.
     “Only two at a time,” Dorothy warned, “and don’t take more than a few minutes.  No place on Discordia is ever truly safe.”
     Rosie ran down to the water’s edge and shed her clothes, heedless of modesty.  She waded into the water and splashed around happily.  Michael took longer, and he shed only his outer garments.  He entered the water still wearing an undershirt and underwear.  The water cooled him off wonderfully, and eased some of the soreness of riding all night.  Rosie obeyed Dorothy’s warning like a good girl.  She exited the water after about five minutes, directly followed by the priest.  They both looked refreshed.
     Dorothy looked at Louis and Lena.  The two shook their heads vigorously.  Neither one of them trusted Mississippi River water, regardless of what dimension it might be.  Lena didn’t like the brown color of the water, and she didn’t like the idea of shedding her clothes like an exhibitionist.  Louis pondered the subject for a second, and concluded that the forces of evil probably didn’t treat their sewage.  He wondered if Rosie and Michael were going to die after their swim.  Louis didn’t know that there were almost no sewers on Discordia.
     Jesus marched back into sight twenty minutes after Rosie was fully clothed. Michael stood beside his horse, dressed and ready to go.  The two swimmers knew that Jesus would have nothing good to say about their excursion into the water, so both Michael and Rosie acted nonchalant.  If Jesus noticed their wet hair and damp clothes, he said nothing about it.  Louis weighed the amusement value of telling the assassin he had missed a wonderful show, but decided against it.
     “I have often observed that people rarely reside in isolated areas on Discordia.  Without alliances people become easy targets here, so almost everyone lives in the cities and towns.  This part of Louisiana is no exception.  I scouted a one-mile radius around our position, and I didn’t find any signs of recent human activity in the vicinity. 
     “I did find a place for us to rest.  There’s an abandoned house about a mile inland from here.  This area should provide us with relative safety.  We are in the middle of nowhere, and nobody knows we are here.  This would be a good time to gather our wits and make our plans,” Jesus announced to the group. 
     Jesus took the reins of his horse and set off through the dense undergrowth before entering the forest.  Lena positively glowed, and followed close behind without saying a word.  Dorothy and Elizabeth chattered quietly about something as they fell in line.  Michael glanced suspiciously at Rosie and Louis, certain they were up to something, and then he set off after the group.
     As soon as the priest turned his back, Louis took Rosie in his arms and kissed her playfully.  She warmed to his embrace, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.  He pulled away from her and put his fingers to his lips, and then he hurried to catch up with Michael.  Rosie hoped her bad luck was finally changing.  She led her horse along with a bounce in her step.
     The party picked their way through old growth woods that stood several feet below sea level in a state known for flooding.  The low spots in the forest floor contained stagnant green pools, and snakes congregated in the tree branches that hung over the water.  The sunlight couldn’t penetrate through the canopy of vegetation hundreds of feet overhead.  The layer of secondary growth along the floor sometimes obscured the travelers’ feet.  The earthy smell of rotting leaves drifted in the thick moist air, and the constant buzzing of mosquitoes surrounded the slow moving line of people.
     The swampy woodland crawled with species of wildlife that no longer roamed on Earth.  Neither Louis nor his friends had a full appreciation of what they were seeing.  The wilderness areas of Discordia existed unchanged since the beginning of time.  There was no industry on Discordia, because almost everything was created through magic.  The environment had not suffered the devastation that was so evident on Earth.  In a world of constant warfare and a zero birth rate, there was never a housing shortage or a pressing need to clear land.  They were walking through a forest that had never faced the exponential population growth of the United States.  It was like Louisiana at the time of Christ.
     The forest gave way to a clearing that contained an abandoned house, right where Jesus said it would be.  Somebody had spent a lot of time on the dwelling.  It was two stories in the Acadian architectural style.  A low sloping roof increased in grade towards the back as it climbed to a high peak.  A wide front porch ran the width of the front of the house, and the low roof ran to the front edge of the porch.  The house had glass windows, and not all of them were broken out.  The dark windows stared down upon the travelers’ arrival impassively.  No clues about the house’s original builders could be seen outside.
     The horses spooked when they entered the clearing.  Something about the house disturbed the animals.  They became restless and anxious to move on, and even Elizabeth couldn’t calm them down completely.  Everybody brought her the reins of their horses and she led them a short ways into the trees they had just come out of.  Jesus watched her as she took the horses, and they both exchanged troubled expressions.
     “There’s something wrong here,” Jesus said immediately.  “Dorothy, would you mind helping me check the inside of the house?”
     “Let’s do it,” Dorothy told him.  She freed a long knife with her right hand, and a can of pepper spray with her left hand.  Jesus arched his eyebrows at her, and she responded, “Bow’s no good in a house.”
     They flanked both sides of the front door, and then Jesus carefully turned the knob.  The door was unlocked, and it opened noisily on rusty hinges.  The two resembled Starsky and Hutch in the way that they entered the house, except Jesus and Dorothy were bizarrely mismatched.  Dorothy looked like an extra from The Road Warrior, and Jesus might have been a well-armed Latino pimp, with silk shirts and white dress shoes.  They disappeared into the interior of the house, and returned a couple of minutes later without incident.
     “There’s nothing here.  Whatever spooked the horses is invisible to us, and that means it can’t hurt us,” Jesus announced.
     “Are you sure about that?” Louis asked him doubtfully.  “Just because we can’t see it, doesn’t mean it can’t hurt us.”
     “I think he’s right in this case.  Horses can sense a lot of things we can’t.  Maybe you should all follow us inside.  You’ll have a better understanding if you witness it for yourself,” Dorothy said cryptically.
     Louis went in first, simply because he was closer to the front door.  Michael was close behind him.  The girls waited outside.  They didn’t like surprises.  Elizabeth was busy with the horses.  The ladies outside heard a holler from inside the house.  Rosie almost jumped out of her skin.  Louis ran out the front door and jumped off of the front porch cheering loudly.
     “Yes!  Yes!”  he yelled and did a cartwheel across the clearing. “It’s furnished and air conditioned!”
     Rosie ran over to him and pushed him.  “Shut up!” she shouted at him, with a big smile on her face.  She ran in the house, and a high pitched shriek emanated from within.  Lena sprang into motion and entered the house like a blur.  Another high pitched shriek echoed out of the house.  Louis followed them both inside.
     “Running water and soft beds!” Rosie exclaimed as she ran back out onto the front porch.  She ran back inside immediately.
     “Running water?” Jesus asked no one in particular.
     “I don’t trust it,” Elizabeth called from the edge of the clearing.  “And the horses don’t want any part of the clearing.”
     “Could it be possible that this is a dimensional fold from Earth?” Dorothy wondered.
     “Anything is possible, except for us to ever have answers to our questions,” Michael spoke up as he came back through the front door.  “The house has a television set and video games, to go with the ice cold air conditioning.  I’d call this place a mirage, but we aren’t in the desert.  I’d call this place the devil’s temptation, but we haven’t heard from the devil, yet.”
     “Maybe we just did,” Jesus voiced his reservations.  “You have a point, padre.  This place may be an attempt to make us complacent.  I don’t think the house will hurt us, however, and I think we stick to the original plan.  We stay here overnight and move on.”
     “Good idea, Jesus,” Elizabeth agreed.
     She tied the horses to a line she strung between two trees, and transmuted the grass and soil around them into high quality grain feed.  She pulled the saddle off of her own horse, and Michael crossed the yard to help her.  Jesus called into the house for assistance, and Louis popped out instantly.  They soon had everyone’s gear inside, and Jesus called for everyone to gather in the living room.
     “This house could be a trap, or it could be a gift.  We just don’t know.  I can’t see sleeping in the swamp with this air-conditioned house here, but we’re moving on after one night.  Now, I know you are all tired, but we have a lot to do today.  We can’t travel through South Louisiana swamps at night, either, so we need to be on a daytime schedule.
     “I want everyone to conduct a concerted search of this house for anything that may be useful to us.  Bring everything you find and put it on the floor here.  Even if you only think it may be useful, bring it in here and put it on the floor.  We’ll take inventory of all our assets after the search.
     “Later I’m going to go over some practical points concerning our mission, such as chore assignments and emergency protocols.  In the event of a crisis I want everyone to know exactly what to do, and to do that as if it were second nature.  We’re always going to be outgunned and outnumbered, so we need to have planning and discipline on our side.  Are there any questions?” Jesus had never led people into combat, but he took to the task like a natural.
     “I want to know how to fight,” Lena submitted. “Can you teach me a few things?”
     “After we have taken care of all our business, I’ll be glad to give you a crash course in self-defense.  I don’t think it would be wise for you to go on the offensive only two days into your stay here on Discordia,” Jesus advised her.
     “Yeah, I have a question.  Are we still on our way to Asmodeus’ palace with no idea of what we’ll do when we get there?” Louis needled the Colombian.
     “I had planned to drive an Impala through the front door, and then shoot a rocket into Asmodeus’ chest.  We no longer have that option.  I guess it would have been too easy.  I’m open to suggestions.  Are you still totally defenseless, Louis?” Jesus goaded the young man in return.  Louis held back a dirty remark, thinking it foolish to argue.
     “Which bedroom do I get?” Rosie asked, thinking ahead.  She looked at Louis and smiled.
     “Hell, I don’t know, Rosie.  Pick one,” Jesus answered wearily.
     Rosie yelped with joy and ran out of the room.  Everyone else got to work searching the closets, cupboards and attic.  A growing pile of items accumulated on the living room floor.  The contents of the house gave every indication that the residence belonged to a large family, who enjoyed outdoor activities and sports.  There were life preservers, backpacks, fishing rods and tackle boxes, baseball bats and football padding.  The list of items grew.
     Lena found camouflage hunting gear and guns, and claimed immediate ownership of the guns.  Louis discovered topographical maps of Ascension, St. James and St. Charles Parishes, as well as detailed navigational maps of Lake Ponchartrain and Lake Manchac.  Michael quit searching when he ran across the contents of the kitchen.  Instead he set to work preparing a large feast for everyone.  Rosie found bondage toys hidden under the bed, and figured they could use the shackles if they took a prisoner.  She didn’t point out how much she liked the stuff, because everyone already knew.  Elizabeth searched a closet in the laundry room, and found a large tent in a duffel bag.  Dorothy pulled a six man inflatable raft from underneath it.  They did a celebration dance and took their items into the living room.
     While the party conducted a search inside the premises, outside Jesus found a power line.  It started on one corner of the house, and disappeared into thin air.  It seemed the electric line ran straight into the next dimension.  Since the house had running water, he assumed that the water pipes did the same thing.  None of the veterans had ever seen anything like it on Discordia, but everybody had learned to expect unusual phenomena.  The group welcomed the phenomena that provided them with such comfortable accommodations.
     After the search was over, the pile on the floor was much larger than anyone expected.  When the search was finished, they lounged about on the couches and easy chairs in the living room.  A wonderful smell floated in from the kitchen, and spirits were high.  Jesus hated to spoil the festive mood, but their lives depended on it.  He told Michael to put dinner on hold and join them.
     “Rosie, what do you do if we get attacked?” Jesus quizzed the young woman.
     She took a minute to think about it.  “I’m not sure,” she shrugged.  “Run?”
     “You need to know for sure.  Now, let’s get down to business,” Jesus told the assembled group. 
     They groaned, but everybody paid attention.  It was a matter of life and death.  After an hour the strategy session concluded.  In the event of a battle, Rosie, Lena, Michael and Louis were officially instructed to flee.  Dorothy, Elizabeth and Jesus would fight.  Nobody was very satisfied with the strategy session.
     “So I am supposed to run?” Rosie asked.
     “That’s our strategy?” Louis expressed his frustration.
     “You have to admit, Jesus, that plan won’t save us from being outgunned and outnumbered,” Michael pointed out.  “The enemy can run too, and probably faster.”
     “I still have a few details to iron out,” Jesus admitted.
     “That’s it.  We’re dead,” Louis threw out.
     “Don’t worry, Louis.  Let’s play video games,” Rosie suggested.
     Jesus didn’t object, because Louis was right. They had no real strategy, and they were probably doomed.  They might as well enjoy what little time they had left.  Everybody left the room but Rosie and Louis, who sat side by side in front of the television and played Playstation games.  Louis couldn’t remember the last time he had so much fun.  They laughed and giggled together, and nothing in the world seemed wrong.

Chapter Eleven:
Rosie’s Tale

     A Colombian assassin stood over a sweating, panting young woman as she labored beneath the hot Louisiana sun.  He squatted down next to her and yelled in her ear as she did push-ups.  Grass clung to her latex top, and her face was bright red.  The sight would have been unusual back on Earth, but on Discordia it was par for the course.  Jesus pushed Lena to do an extra five push-ups, beyond the point where her muscles overwhelmed with lactic acid.  Somehow she found the extra strength, and she collapsed in the grass when she finished.
     “You don’t get to rest.  We need to work on your abdomen.  It’s sit up time, little girl,” Jesus informed her.  “On your back.   Give me fifty sit-ups, pronto.”
     Lena did as she was told.  Jesus held her feet as she counted off the repetitions.  Lena wanted to learn how to fight, so Jesus began her training right after the group’s strategy session.  He knew there was no sense in teaching her combat skills unless she was strong enough to do damage.  He started her off with the basics.  Jesus was impressed by her desire to please, and he hoped they could survive long enough to make her training worthwhile.  Lena, for her part, was getting off on the attention, and being told what to do.
     It was late in the afternoon.  Everybody else chose to pass the day with less strenuous activities.  They all ate a delicious meal prepared by their own Catholic priest, and then returned to their separate amusements.  Michael read the Bible in the kitchen.  Louis and Rosie sat in front of the television and played Grand Theft Auto.  Dorothy and Elizabeth decided to cast aside their inhibitions and take a long shower together.  The two women retired to a bedroom afterwards, and didn’t come out for the rest of the night.  Nobody in the house wanted to think about the reality of their situation, so they all whiled away the time with more pleasant diversions.
     Outside, Lena and Jesus went for a long jog that covered a lot of the outlying areas beyond the clearing.  Jesus didn’t run across any sign of people.  He felt so secure in their location that he decided not to assign nighttime guard duty.  He knew that they would enter dangerous territory again soon enough, and figured everyone could use one last night of unfettered freedom.  If Jesus had known they were being pursued, then he would have acted differently.  He did not believe anyone followed them.
     At sunset Jesus and Lena returned from their jog in the swamps.  Jesus headed directly for the bathroom to get cleaned up.  Lena waited until she knew he was in the shower, and then she sneaked in after him.  The Colombian didn’t kick her out, and they were in the shower a long time.
      Rosie noticed what was going on with the other members of their party.  She intended to take a shower as well, in the master bathroom.  She was proud of herself for thinking to choose a bedroom before anyone else.  Rosie took Louis by the hand and led him to the master bedroom.  Louis couldn’t hide his excitement.  He had not enjoyed sexual intimacy since he got strung out.  He followed her eagerly. 
     Michael was left all alone with the Bible, but he wasn’t upset about it.  He had been true to his vow of celibacy for so long that he no longer felt the yearnings of the flesh.  He skimmed through the scriptures in search of information pertaining to Discordia.  The priest had faith in the power of God.  He knew that God would not desert him, no matter how impossible things looked.  Michael continued his research long after everyone else found their way into a bed.

     The master bedroom of the house was tastefully decorated.  The centerpiece of the room was a king-sized bed with a cobalt blue comforter.  Over a dozen pillows covered the head of the bed, and most of them sported a conservative checkered print.  A couple of the pillows were mismatched and had pastel flowers on the pillowcases.  There was a large walnut chest against the wall directly across from the bed, with a small bookshelf suspended above it.  There was a wildlife print on every wall but the one above the bed, and a large mirror on the door to the bathroom. 
     Neither Rosie nor Louis paid any attention to the room’s décor.  They closed the door behind them and kissed each other for a long time.  Rosie put her hands under Louis’ shirt and ran them all over his chest and his back.  She started to take his shirt off, and he pulled it over his head.  She pressed her face against his chest and sucked on one of his nipples, which elicited a short groan from deep inside his throat.
     Louis picked her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed.  He put her down gently on the edge and helped her unbutton her blouse.  She slipped out of the blouse, and a second later had her bra off.  Louis breathing came in shallow spurts as he drank in the sight of her.  She was a small girl, but she was perfectly proportioned.  She was thick without being fat, and sexual without being dirty.  Louis considered her far and away the most beautiful girl he had ever been with. 
     He couldn’t believe how good she smelled.  He was drunk with the natural smell of her skin.  He found himself kissing and nibbling on her neck.  He steered his attentions down, across her collarbone and to her breasts.  Rosie moaned in response, and fumbled at the button on his jeans.  She got the button undone and pulled his jeans down across his hips.  When she saw that he was wearing briefs she went wild.  She loved to see a man wearing briefs.  She threw him down on the bed and dragged his jeans and underwear off at the same time, in one fluid motion.
     Rosie pounced on top of the thin young man, and skinned out of her own pants with the ease of lots of practice.  She straddled Louis and slipped him inside her by wiggling her hips.  It took her an extra second to do it that way, but she knew how sexy it was.  She let out a long moan when she got him properly situated.  She would never have guessed at his size.  He was in big trouble, because she was never going to let him go.
     They made love for a little under thirty minutes.  Rosie was an expert at reading the onset of male orgasm, and she calmed her ministrations when Louis got close.  She didn’t want the sex to end.  When his orgasm subsided she picked up the pace on top of him, bouncing and gyrating.  She hoped it would last even longer, but Louis had been deprived of intimacy for too long.  Just as she was about to back off of him, he grabbed her tightly and rolled her over until he was on top.  From there it only took him about thirty seconds of pounding to climax.  Rosie made a mental note to break him of that habit.
     They held each other for a long time while they cooled off and calmed down.  Rosie absentmindedly fondled Louis’ while she thought about her life.  He drifted off to sleep after only a few minutes.  She considered waking him and reviving his erection, but decided to save it for later.  She climaxed four times during their first session, and that was enough even for her.  She peeled herself away from him to take a shower, and Louis grunted when he felt her leave.
     The master bathroom wasn’t an elaborate display of wealth.  It was merely a small private bathroom for the master bedroom, but that was luxurious enough for Rosie.  Across from the shower and beside the toilet there was a long counter with a sink set in it.  Above the counter there was a large mirror with a line of lights above it, for doing makeup.  Rosie opened a drawer beneath the counter and discovered lots of beauty products.  The mystery of the house puzzled her, but she made a mental note to raid the beauty products before she left.  She abided by the “finders-keepers” rule.
     The water in the shower got hot quickly after Rosie turned it on, and she stepped in and closed the door anxiously.  She loved taking hot showers.  She usually stood under the water until it got cold.  The bathroom filled up with steam while Rosie soaped herself up and washed her hair.  She took good care of her hair.  She hoped she never went through another ordeal that involved dirty hair.
     After she was done with the washing part of the shower, she got to what was normally her favorite part.  She stood there and relaxed as the water ran down her belly and her back.  Often she daydreamed about pleasant things, but her thoughts floated away on a cloud of regret.  She remembered how she arrived in Discordia.
     None of her companions in Discordia ever asked for her full name, but she was born Rosa Lee Hansen.  She was twenty-four years old.  She grew up poor in Lafayette, like so many people from the area.  Her father worked in the oil fields as a derrick hand the whole time she was growing up, and she rarely got to see him.  Her mother worked as a waitress all her life.  Hardship and poverty dashed all her mother’s hopes, and Rosie matured fearing that the same thing would happen to her.
     Rosa graduated from high school, and she was an above average student.  She applied to Louisiana State University for the fall of 1999, and was accepted.  Because of how incredibly poor she was, the state and federal governments showered her with scholarships and grants.  She moved to Baton Rouge and entered the university.   College changed her life, forever.
     Boys always interested Rosie while she was in high school, but the boys she knew in Lafayette were unsophisticated and crude.  When she got to LSU, Rosie encountered a whole different breed of males.  The men were cultured and educated.  The possibilities stimulated every part of her.  She clung to the hope that she could find a man with wealth or promise, and marry him.  She could escape from poverty overnight.
     Rosie played the field at college.  Her dating habits had nothing to do with sexual promiscuity, though most of the time she did have sex with the men she dated.  She searched for a suitable husband through four years of college, while she made passing grades in general studies.  The idea of making her own success occurred to her, but she wasn’t optimistic about her chances.  She knew too many people who graduated from college and remained in poverty.
     Graduation landed her a job in civil service for the State of Louisiana.  She worked as a filing clerk in the Department of Education.  There was little hope she would ever advance, and the salary barely paid her rent and fed her.  She only made twelve hundred dollars a month, and that meant she was still very poor.  She never gave up hope that a good man would come along and save her.  Her outlook on life would have nauseated her educated girlfriends, but it was the way Rosie’s mother brought her up.
     One night while Rosie was out with her friends, she heard about an online dating service that screened applicants.  One of her friends met an amazing, talented man through the service, and someone else they knew had as well.  The service verified membership information through a thorough background check.  The service began in South Louisiana, and expanded mostly by word of mouth.  Rosie’s friends told her that there were a lot of members, but not so many that she would feel overwhelmed.  The best part was that all the members were the people they claimed to be. 
     Rosie did not trust the anonymity of public access chat rooms, but the dating service sounded safe enough.  She got the Internet address and contacted the service the next day.  Within a week she met a man who met her criteria.  He practiced admiralty law, and he was very handsome.  Rosie marveled that the man was single.  They corresponded briefly, and Rosie couldn’t wait to meet him in person.
     The man’s name was David Snelling.  They went on two dates together, and Rosie had a great time on both occasions.  Rosie played hard to get.  She wanted to be the kind of woman a man married, not just a weekend booty call. She didn’t want to seem like an old fashioned prude either.  On their third date Rosie had decided to give it up to David, if he asked her to come back to his place.  Rosie had the feeling their third date would be the charm.
     They went out to dinner and a movie, and afterwards David asked Rosie if she would like to see his house.  He had told her a few things about the house, and she was enchanted by the descriptions.  David owned a waterfront house on False River, on twenty acres with a private dock.  Rosie welcomed the invitation, and they drove to False River without delay.
     The house was very secluded.  The closest neighbor lived almost a kilometer away.  Only distant lights linked the house to civilization.  They drove over a hill and down a long gravel driveway.  They were on the property three or four minutes before the house came into view. 
     Rosie was very impressed by the estate.  The architect patterned the residence after a Frank Lloyd Wright home, and the external appearance of the house in the headlights was extraordinary.  They pulled into a four-car garage that contained a Mercedes, a Ferrari and a Hummer, to go with the BMW they were riding in.  It was a poor single woman’s dream.
     David opened Rosie’s car door and escorted her into the house.  The use of space and obtuse angles gave the interior a feel of wonderful openness.  Enormous windows overlooked the lake.  Cleverly disguised sliding glass doors in the windows opened to a multilevel system of terraces on the steep bank descending to the dock.  Exquisite paintings hung on the walls, and the furniture may as well have been sculptures.  David showed her to a comfortable sofa in the great room, and put on some fusion jazz while he made them both martinis.
     Euphoria filled Rosie, and contentment, to be in such a place with such a nice man.  When David returned with their drinks he sat very close to her, and she felt incredibly aroused by his close proximity.  Early into their short relationship they uncovered a mutual interest in mystical philosophy, and they talked about Gurdjieff and Ouspensky as they sipped on their drinks. 
     Rosie’s whole body went numb without any warning, and she dropped her drink.  She remembered thinking that she had ruined her chances with David, because she spilled vodka on his sofa.  David smiled at her, and caressed her cheek.  Rosie lost consciousness.
     When Rosie woke up she did not know where she was.  She could not move her arms and legs, and she couldn’t see.  The sensation of being trapped caused her to panic, and she struggled against whatever was holding her.  She couldn’t tell where she was, but she knew that it was very tight.
     As the reality of her situation dawned on her, she figured out that she was wrapped in leather and strapped down.  She also recalled that she was with David.  A sick sinking feeling descended into the pit of her stomach.  She had been drugged, and she was being held captive.  She had thrown caution to the wind because he was rich, and she didn’t like the result one little bit.
     Rosie struggled against her bonds for a while, but it was pointless.  Her arms were held tightly at her sides.  Her legs were wrapped together and fastened to whatever it was she lay upon.  She couldn’t even turn her head from side to side, because her forehead had been strapped down.  She had some sort of helmet over her head that blocked out her vision and made it difficult to breathe.  Rosie was in quite the pickle.
    Hours went by, and Rosie feared that she was in the clutches of a cold-blooded killer.  She knew that no man would release a woman after doing something like that to her.  The penalty for murder and kidnapping was the same, and if she were dead she could not testify.  The realization made her cry, and she cursed her own stupidity over and over.
     After what seemed like an eternity, David startled Rosie by unfastening the strap on her forehead and pulling the leather helmet off of her head.  Bright lights blinded her, and she squinted her eyes to get a look at her surroundings.  In about a minute she could make out David standing over her.  He paid no attention to her as he read the contents of a small black book.  Rosie was too frightened to speak.  David finally put the book away and regarded her. 
     Tears ran down her cheeks again, but she did not speak at first.  She could not believe how stupid she had been.  Nobody knew where she was.  Nobody even knew she had gone out on a date Friday night, or that the man’s name was David Snelling, if that was his real name.  She promised herself that if she got out of the situation alive, then she was going to find the creator of the dating service and shove his head into a toilet.  David smiled at her, and there was no malice in the expression.  Rosie hated his smile.  She vowed to disfigure David’s face if she got free, right after she filed a lawsuit against the leather industry.
     “How’s my sleepy head?  Are you okay, Rosie?” he asked.
     “Why are you doing this, David?  I was going to give myself to you,” she whimpered.
     “This isn’t about you, Rosie.  I need you, and you would never have volunteered.”
     “I like a little bondage, David.  I’m not upset with you, but you need to let me go.  I have to use the bathroom.  I’ll let you tie me up again after I go.  I promise,” Rosie attempted to secure her freedom in a sweet tone of voice.
     “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Rosie.  I hate to tell you this, but I need you for a ceremony.  The ceremony involves black magic.  Your ordeal has only just begun.  I need you in this position for the first rite, in which I offer your body to Beelzebub.  The ceremony then dictates that I must free you from all bonds and ‘make love’ to you.  The text is very clear on that.  I have to keep you under control using just my body.  It’s essentially rape, but I have to make you enjoy it……”
     “You’re fucking crazy!  You sick piece of shit!  You will never get away with this, you fuck!” Rosie screamed at the top of her lungs. 
     An amused expression passed over David’s face.  He picked up a leather ball from a tray.  As he did so, Rosie noticed she was strapped to a table about three feet off of the ground.  He shoved the leather ball in her mouth, and she stopped making noise.
     “I’m not crazy, and I will get away with it.  I sold my soul to Beelzebub a long time ago.  In exchange for human sacrifices, I get to have wealth beyond your feeble comprehension.  I give him women, and he gives me everything I always wanted,” David spoke in the monotone voice of a zombie.
     Rosie sobbed into the gag, and wept shamelessly beneath the man’s stare.  She knew he was going to kill her from the moment she woke up.  Hearing that fact totally destroyed her last vestige of composure.  The situation was hopeless.  She was going to be sacrificed to a devil by an insane lawyer.  She didn’t like the way that sounded, and she was sure it wouldn’t feel good.
     “In case you’re wondering, I’m not gloating over you.  I have to tell you all this.  It’s supposed to make you afraid, and fear helps the ceremony or something.  I just follow the directions.  Now where was I?
     “I have to ‘make love’ to you repeatedly, until you climax at least six times.  Then I have to hang you up spread eagle and whip you, until you beg Beelzebub to take you.  I’ll walk you though it.  Your role isn’t complicated,” he told her condescendingly.  He wasn’t just a depraved devil worshipper, he was a jerk to boot.
      David did all of the things he said he was going to do.  He performed a disturbing ritual involving a kitten and an elevated brazier.  The act made Rosie retch, and she closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see it.  When he was satisfied the ritual was complete, he moved on to the next step he described. 
     Rosie fought him like a wildcat when he released her, but the man was a lot stronger than he looked.  He held her down and raped her, and despite all her struggling she climaxed six times.  She tried to fake it a couple of times, in case it really mattered, but David somehow knew the difference.  Rosie hated her body for betraying her with orgasms at such a time, and she wasn’t too pleased with the manufacturers of erectile dysfunction drugs either.
     By the time David finished raping Rosie, she was weak from fighting against him and unable to put up much of a struggle to free herself.  He clapped shackles around her wrists and ankles, and hauled her into the air.  He whipped her until she would have agreed to anything, so of course she repeated the words he told her.  The words may as well have been “open sesame,”  because they performed the same function.
     A portal opened in the air underneath her, and David lowered her through it.  Rosie didn’t trust her perceptions, because she was going through a traumatic experience.  She never saw a devil, and she didn’t remember what happened when he lowered her into the glowing red light.  She did remember waking up in captivity on Discordia, and her tribulations on Discordia were far more horrendous than anything else she ever experienced.
    Life was unfair to Rosa Lee Hansen.  She never hurt anybody in her entire life.  She explored her own sensuality and she liked kinky sex, but that wasn’t such a bad thing.  She wanted to be financially independent, but she wanted to be a wife.  She wanted to be a stay at home mother, and a housewife.  All that was taken away from her by evil, for no good reason at all.  Rosie found herself sobbing in the shower as the water ran cold.
     Louis heard the sound of Rosie’s sorrow and went into the bathroom.  He asked if she was all right, and she told him to go away.  Louis did not go away.  He opened the shower and pulled her into his arms.  He held her while she cried.  He got her a towel and turned off the water when she stopped.  Louis hated to see someone he cared about in pain.  He led Rosie back to the bed, and snuggled her to him until she stopped shaking.
     “Were you crying about being in Discordia, Rosie?” Louis asked.
     “Yes, I was,” she answered.
     “Will you tell me what happened?”  Louis honestly wanted to know.
     Rosie told him the entire story, and she was mostly truthful.  She glossed over her own sexual past, because it was irrelevant.  She was very hard on herself, a fact that didn’t escape Louis.  When she got to the part about being drugged and taken prisoner, he stiffened in the bed next to her.  As the story unfolded from that point, Louis grew angry. 
     Rosie was caught up in talking for the first time about what happened to her.  The act of saying it all out loud made her feel better.  She did not notice the changes that came over Louis in bed next to her.  He tightened his fists as she described the rape, and gritted his teeth when she talked about being whipped into submission.  She continued her story all the way up to the point Jesus and Lena rescued her. 
     When she concluded her account, she finally noticed there was something wrong with Louis.  His eyes blazed green, and he stared off into the distance.  Little wisps of green smoke rose from his temples and turned in tight spirals above his head.  Rosie sat up, alarmed at what she saw.  Louis turned to look at her.  When he saw the fear and concern on her face, he reached out his hand and stroked her cheek.
     “Your suffering will be avenged, Rosa Lee.  For every second you felt pain at the hands of evil, those responsible will spend a thousand years in torment.  I vow this now, before heaven and hell and all the creations.  I, Aleph, will make it so,” proclaimed a strangely mellifluous voice that came out of Louis’ mouth.  “Have no fear, sweet child.  The wrongs will be righted, and your memories will be washed clean of the pain.”
     Rosie didn’t know what to do.  She sat and stared at Louis without moving a muscle.  She knew she was safe, but she was dealing with something totally alien to her understanding.  Within a couple of minutes the green glow faded from Louis’ eyes, and he slumped forward against her.  She stroked his hair, as he had done for her.  When he woke up he remembered everything.
     “Well, things could be worse.  The entity inside me likes you, and feels compassion for your suffering.  We know its name now too.  That’s good.  It could have been an evil entity that remained forever nameless.  I don’t think I’m doing so bad,” Louis went on cynically.  Then he recalled Rosie’s story, and he shut up about himself.
     “Aleph was right, Rosie, whoever he is.  The guy who did this to you needs to pay for what he did.  David Snelling must not get away with raping you, torturing you, and sending you here for more of the same.  Nothing you did in your life warranted what happened to you.  Now, are you hungry?”
     Rosie laughed.  She was glad Louis came back.  She liked him, even though he complained more than any other man she ever met.  She thought he was great in bed, and she absolutely adored his penis.  Rosie decided to keep him, even though something weird lived inside him.
     “I am hungry.  Do you think there’s any food left from earlier?” she asked cheerfully.
     “I’m sure there is.  Michael cooked enough to feed an army.  Before we go out there, I want to tell you something.  I thought you were beautiful ever since I first laid eyes on you, but I didn’t know you.  I got a distorted version of how you joined the party, and I had strange ideas about how you wound up on Discordia.  I want you to know that I think you may be the most courageous person I’ve ever met.  You’re smart and funny, and you’re unbelievable in bed…”
     “Stop it, Louis.  You’re embarrassing me,” Rosie interrupted him.
     “…and I don’t think I can live without you.  Will you marry me?” Louis asked.
     “Don’t play with me, Louis.  It’s not nice.”
     “I’m serious, Rosie.  I want you to marry me.”
     “My mother always told me sex had a power over men.  I never believed her until now.  I must be better than I thought.”
     “Now you’re teasing me.  It wasn’t the sex,” Louis lied to himself, “and I’m sure you know exactly how good you are.”
     “I won’t marry you right this second, if that’s what you mean.  We can work on some preemptive consummation, though, if that’s what you had in mind.”
     “That sounds like a plan,” Louis bubbled.
     Louis grabbed Rosie and pulled her close.  The rest of the world faded away while they were together.  There was no Earth or Discordia.  They became one, united by pleasure and love.  They moved in time to each other’s heartbeat, and took the first steps to truly knowing one another.  The second time there was no urgency in their motions, and no rush to release.  Louis and Rosie brought one another to the pinnacle of pleasure, and then they took a leap of faith into the mind-boggling orgasm that waited for them beyond the edge of rational thought.  They slowly eased back down into their bodies when it was over.  Neither one of them had breathed for a long time, so when air returned into their lungs they drank it in hungrily.
     “Yes,” Rosie answered finally.  “Yes.”