Chapter 3

After two weeks of intensive training, Professor Jackson was ready for his adventure to begin. Rather than training with swords, he had spent his time working with simpler weapons that could be made by hand in even the worst of circumstances. Is it easy to use a club? Everyone knows how to use a baseball bat, or at least they think they do. How well does a club work against a sword? He found out that there were some things that worked and others that didn’t.

Professor Jackson did not fare well when armed with a club while facing Sid armed with a wooden practice sword. In fact, he had his hand smashed during one training session. It happened when Sid’s practice sword slid down the length of the club the professor had been holding. If Sid had been using a real sword, his hand would have been seriously cut followed very quickly by death. The experience was an important lesson learned.

Now that it was nearly time to head for Crossroads, Professor Jackson was beginning to get nervous.

He looked over at Sid and said, “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You need to wait one more minute before leaving,” Sid said knowing how difficult it was to wait until the time to leave.

Sounding more than a little fearful, Professor Jackson asked, “Do you think she’ll be waiting for me?”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Sid asked.

He knew that Professor Jackson didn’t understand the sex drive of women from Cassandra. His caretaker was living out every fantasy she ever had with the older man. There was no way that she’d reject him.

“She might have decided that she doesn’t like me,” Professor Jackson answered.

He just couldn’t believe that he had actually found a woman with Einstein Brains, Betty Page legs and Earth Mother Breasts. Mercedes filled a huge hole in his life left as a result of his wife’s death. After having met her, he didn’t know what he’d do if he lost her.

Sid said, “I’m sure she’ll be there.”

“I hope so,” Professor Jackson said.

Sid glanced at the clock in time to see the digits change and then said, “It’s time for you to go.”

Professor Jackson didn’t bother to acknowledge the comment. He quickly stepped through the door of the closet. There was a twisting sensation and then he found himself in the plain white room. He sighed and said, “You’d think with the kind of technology these people must have that they’d learn how to create a place that wasn’t so sterile.”

The door to the room opened. He stared in shock at the woman standing before him. Mercedes was dressed in an outfit that befitted the lady of a medieval castle. In no way could her outfit be considered risque, but it was sexy beyond belief. The hem of her royal purple dress brushed the floor hiding her legs from view. It had a low neckline that presented sufficient cleavage to hint at the treasures contained within the gown without showing the slightest bit more than necessary.

Relieved that he had returned to Crossroads, Mercedes dropped into a proper curtsy while saying, “Welcome home, My Lord Jackson.”

“My Lady,” Edwin said while returning her curtsy with a stately bow.

“I hope that the manor meets your approval,” Mercedes said gesturing with her right hand to her surroundings.

She had spent days designing the main room in the hope of pleasing him. She knew about his fascination with medieval times. She knew that he wouldn’t be happy with simple furnishings of a modern place. She hoped he would like what she had done.

Unwilling to take his eyes off of her, Edwin had not noticed his surroundings. He took that moment to look around. He was shocked by the changes that had been made in what had once been a sterile white room.

The room had been transformed into the interior of a medieval castle. It had rough hewn stone walls that gave the impression of great age. The granite was a light gray color that prevented the atmosphere from being dark. Torches set into the walls provided light for the room. The spaces between them were covered with tapestries that showed scenes of life in a medieval royal court. A large fireplace, complete with fire, filled one side of the room. Another wall held a collection of weapons.

The arched ceiling, like those found in a cathedral, seemed to reach into the heavens. He couldn’t tell whether the ceiling was actually that high or if it was an illusion. A slight glow to the ceiling evened out the light provided by the wall torches. The small addition of ambient light kept the atmosphere from feeling oppressive.

The floor was made of polished stone. Thick wool carpets covered much of the floor. The predominant color was burgundy, but the patterns woven into it included bright blues, yellows, and greens. The exotic patterns gave a rich feel to the place.

The furniture was made of solid wood stained to a rich darkness. The seats were covered with comfortable looking cushions that softened the lines of the furniture. The tables were massive with nicks and dings that suggested they had seen hard use for a century. The damage only increased the esthetics of the overall room.

“The room is magnificent,” Edwin said, “but it pales in comparison to you. You look like a queen.”

Mercedes blushed at the obvious compliment. She fiddled with her dress for a moment. It unwrapped giving view to the treasures that had been hidden beneath.

After licking her lips nervously, she said, “I did not know what kind of underwear I should wear with the gown so I chose to wear none. I hope that meets with your approval.”

Edwin didn’t bother to say a word. His actions were proof enough of his approval!

An hour later, the pair regained a semblance of sanity. They were lying atop her shredded gown exhausted by the frantic coupling in which they had been engaged. Neither one of them had any memory of how her gown had come to be in that sad state.

Mercedes rubbed her hand over his chest enjoying the feel of his muscles beneath her fingertips. She found it hard to believe that a Hero would want her with the kind of passion that he had just finished displaying. She had feared that her resume would never be presented to a Hero and that if it had then the Hero would reject her.

Her application to become a caretaker had been rejected twice by the council that oversaw such matters. They argued that because of the damage to her body that she would be rejected by the computer that oversaw the distribution of applications on Chaos. It was felt that having it rejected by them was a softer blow than having it rejected by the computer or by a Hero. Rejection by the computer would have been a terrible blow. Everyone had been surprised when it she had been accepted by the computer, but it was feared that no Hero would ever chose her.

Repeated rejection by different Heroes would have been devastating. It had happened only a few times in the past, but the result had led to suicides on the part of the women involved. Mercedes had argued her case with the council using her superior intellect. She asserted that a great Hero would overlook her physical flaws to take advantage of her knowledge. It had made the news when she had been selected by Edwin Jackson.

In a soft voice, she said, “I feared that you would not return.”

“An army couldn’t have kept me away,” Edwin said. “I was afraid that you would not return.”

“I would have fought every woman on Cassandra with one hand tied behind my back to return,” Mercedes said.

“Which hand?” Edwin asked with a wry grin.

“My missing left hand, of course,” she replied with a giggle.

“Good thinking,” Edwin said. He sighed and said, “You are so beautiful. I’m lucky to have found you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Mercedes replied.

Edwin asked, “Are you ready to take this to the bedroom where I can make love to you without risking carpet burns?”

“Yes, My Hero,” Mercedes answered.

Mercedes had turned one room of the complex into a medieval war room with current maps of Chaos hanging from the wall, despite their large blank areas. A large heavy oak table filled the center of the room. She had a map laid across the table showing the region which Edwin would be traveling for his mission. The map showed a lot of detail about the terrain, and also the locations of settlements. Even isolated houses were shown.

Pointing to a line on the map, she said, “You will follow this road to where it crosses this stream. About five hundred yards off the road is the house where Elise Bartender is being held.”

Edwin stared at the map trying to commit it to memory. Experience with following driving directions downloaded from the Internet had taught him the lesson that it wasn’t sufficient to just have the direct route at hand, but to know the surrounding areas in case of detours or missed turns. The last thing he wanted was to get lost and have to stumble around for weeks trying to locate his destination.

It seemed to be a simple enough mission. He was to leave from town and walk half a day to where Elise was being held against her will by two brothers. A quick grab and run back to the bank in town would complete the mission. With some luck he wouldn’t even need to confront the two brothers.