“A horse-less carriage that flies.”
Alfred laughed. “I suppose, from your point of view, that is as good a description as any.”
I nodded. “Are you going to teach me to ride one of these?”
“Sorry, yes. Drive?”
“If you like. I suspect you will figure it out anyway.”
It was truly odd. A few hours earlier, I had been taken from the scene of impending doom where Prince Steffan was about to be run through with a jealous husband’s sword…well, after Steffan had dug himself out from under the bevy of naked beauties he had orgied himself out with…and now here I stood. “Alfred, what year is it, again?”
“Twenty-one seventy-two, sir.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Another laugh. “No, you’re right, sir. Forty-six nineteen.”
I knew it was not that year either. However, now here I stood watching carriages floating through the polluted gray air amidst buildings that put the highest steeples and castle towers I had ever seen to shame. Yet, I somehow knew where I was and had random recollections of events I had never taken part in. “Alfred?”
“Yes, sir.” He turned to face me. Frustration showed on his face from failing in his attempts to wave down one of the horse-less floating carriages that was yellow and had some small torch on top with the word ‘Taxi’ emblazoned upon it.
“Was it Gorbachev that tore down the Berlin Wall?”
His Colonel Sanders-like face crinkled in thought. “Gorbachev was the Russian leader that was part of that event. I highly doubt he actually tore it down, however.”
Considering the event of Reagan telling Gorbachev to tear down that wall happened more nearly 800 years after my birth, it was somewhat hard to fathom how I knew of it…never mind remember the scene.
We stood on a platform in front of a great clock. Below us, other vehicles passed through the misty paths and I could not tell just how high up we were as the mist grew denser further below yet. It brought me odd memories of a film with Bruce Willis and Gary Oldman…then it took me back trying to think of what a film was. Above us, the Moon winked and danced, watching all below.
Alfred finally managed to wave down the yellow floater. It pulled up to our platform and the door lifted with a hiss. Alfred got in first and was already tapping something onto the buttons in front of him as I sat.
“Clothes make the man,” he said with his brown eyes quickly scanning my armor.
“I beg to differ. The man makes the armor, much as it is the woman that makes the clothing look beautiful. It is more about the person inside.”
“Right. Let me know how that works for you.” He slumped back into his chair as the floater lifted us away from the platform and downward.
“So where are we going?”
He reached forward and tapped more. “A friend of mine owns a fashion shop we will be visiting first. Armor may work for Halloween, but generally not on Denver’s streets among the general population in April.”
We floated in silence until the carriage shook from outside chop in the air.
I watched through the windows all around us and soon we began to descend into the mist. Only then I realized that there was no driver…oddly, not shocking, but just a curiosity. Ahead, I caught a glimpse of someone on a platform…someone familiar…as my mind quickly reeled back to the memory…
He’s waking, oh thank heavens he’s waking.”
It was Tara’s voice, and her large brown eyes were the first visions I saw. The carriage we were in bounced again.
Tara looked up at Steffan who was sitting up on his bench but leaning forward over me as well. The moment he realized I was awake, however, he quickly slouched back and tried to look bored. The panic in his face quickly washed by joy, however, never was fully hidden under his mask.
I tried to prop myself up on the carriage floor with my elbows.
“Cross, you rest. You got a nasty knock, love.” Tara stroked my hair. She was on her knees beside me.
Steffan shrugged. ”Angus was ready.”
I nodded slightly. ”I see…” my words were cut short at a sensation between my legs. A quick circling of my eyes showed that Tara’s current position blocked Steffan from seeing anything of me other than my face and, from the pain it was pure guess, the large bruise forming on my forehead. The fact that Tara’s hand was inside my pants, however, probably would not have shocked him as much as it shocked me.
Tara gave my erection a quick squeeze and released it. She leaned forward in a hug and whispered in my ear, “I want to play with that later, okay?”
Seriously, how could a gentleman say no to that?
“It’s her!” I gasped.
Alfred followed my gaze and saw her. “It couldn’t be.”
“Please, I whispered.”
Alfred tapped and the carriage swung towards the platform.
She stood in boots to her mid-thighs, tight black shorts and a shiny black corset.
Alfred opened his window as we pulled up.
She bent forward to peer in the open window. “Ooohh…kinky, baby. You two looking for a date?”
“Tara?” I asked almost in a whimper.
Her eyes caught mine and recognition filled them.
Alfred looked from her to me and back again.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came until she had blinked twice. “Cross, is that you?”