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CASSANDRA                        serial novel

They would meet as destiny ordained. Life still goes on no matter what cosmic calamity is taking place.

A rouge planet with a 15,000-year elliptical orbit rolled into the solar system and reshuffled the deck. Mars ended up in a matched orbit with Earth exactly one-half the distance around the sun. Both planets had the same orbital rate and spin…355 days and 28 hours though slightly further away from the sun. Earth shuddered and shook, volcanoes, earthquakes and super storms ravished the surface and the planet shifted and settled on a new axis with what was Buenos Aires as the new North Pole. An uncountable number of people died and assuredly everything was different. Huge migrations of people and animals trod the darkened, shifting, and shaking Earth. The boundaries of nations were no more; the great political experiments were now irrelevant. Survival was the rule with all its selfish cruelty and determination.

The dust settled, as it will do.

The remaining people of the USA split into the Elite and the Wild. The Wild West meets Wall Street if there was a Wall Street or a Wild West. There was no more Eastern Seaboard or a West Coast. The new coasts of good old USA were at the foot of the Rocky Mountains and at the Foot of the Appalachians. The Mississippi River valley was now a huge lake blocked from the sea by the Louisiana mountain range and the Great Lakes were green valleys split by wild and splendid rivers. The once Great Plains were now a series of high broad sub-tropical mesas split by deep gorges and muddy rivers. The New Rockies reached higher in the sky than the once mighty Everest, and new volcanoes came up in anger and then rested. Canada was divided into lush green islands. The bridge between the former North and South America was now a mountain range. Australia's desert middle bloomed, the Sahara burst in green and Europe was a group of islands. The Amazon was under ice as was China. The Ural Mountains became the most populated area on the planet and the new hub of civilization. The world was unrecognizable.

And water poured forth on Mars as the sun heated up the frozen world, volcanoes spewed and an atmosphere was created. The sleeping alien seeds bloomed and within fifty years it was as vital and verdant a planet as when the Earth was new.

The Elite had scientists and a new morality, or a lack of it, that perpetrated every kind of experiment that the older World would not have allowed. They did it for the sake of a mythical lost world, now longed for with a desperate hope.

One of those experiments was Cassandra. She was human but mostly manufactured in a test tube. She was created in the secret underground labs in the wilds of the New Rockies rain forests. She was made to be the ultimate Pitch Woman, a super advertisement for the New World they would build. She matched the statistical pinnacle of everything considered beautiful in a woman. She was tall with fiery red hair, green eyes, over-full lips, straight nose, perfect chin and facial shape. Her breasts were full and as proud as any cosmetic doctor could hope, without the use of enhancements. Her hips and legs would haunt the dreams of every man on the planet. On a world where hunger induced thinness was rampant it was a well-fed women that was the ideal. And she would be what every, soon to be well fed, consumer based-woman wished to be. It didn't matter that she was created twenty years ahead of schedule. It may be that in their hurry and arrogance, which was the dominate personality feature of every Elite, they only saw what they wanted not what they got. These eggheads didn't know what else Cassandra got in the embryonic mix. She was a genius but played dumb and compliant until she absorbed everything she could from the computers in the facility. She was immensely strong, much stronger than the pasty-faced scientists and Elite-trained security guards whose necks she broke effortlessly as she walked out of the facility. She could also read surface thoughts and create pheromones in her body that had whatever effect she wanted on those around her.

She escaped into a wild world she knew little about, other than in the academic sense. She was a walking lure for assault and rape. She knew she was in constant danger and the mountains near Old Denver were the wildest of wild places. She soon became exhausted from killing would be thieves, rapists and the occasional bear that found her natural scent overwhelming. She could manage individuals and small groups but not a crowd of human- male beasts bent on her defilement. She tired of killing and decided she needed a protector. The last several months of bloodshed left her hormonal juices depleted and her body mildly bruised. She hid away in a deserted building and ate rats to regain her strength. She then internally concocted an aromatic mix that would attract just the right male to be her champion. Out the odor wafted on the night air like the scent of a Luna Moth until it hit the nose of that perfect male.

Leo Jordan was as stupid a man that had ever lived. He was a massive six-foot ten and weighed three hundred and fifty pounds. The functional part of his fatty brain was the size of a walnut. He had committed every conceivable crime despised by God or man. He had no moral compass so each act was the same as another. Leo was violent by nature, and angry by disposition and ogre- like in appearance. He was perfect for Cassandra. As soon as her scent hit his nose he was on a quest. For the first time, in his raping and murderous life, he was insanely and hopelessly in love. He found her, adored her and was befuddled into the perfect platonic companion protector. He wanted her like a persistent ache but his lizard brain told him not to violate her or harm her in any way. It screamed to him that it wasn't time, when the aroma was right he could have her. She endured his constantly sniffing at her bottom and her armpits as an unfortunate side effect of her aromatic bewitchment.

Once he was snared and her chemical perfume was perfected, she confided in Leo that she was in constant danger of other males trying to steal her and that they would do best to move high up in the mountains where they could be safe. She then could decide in peace on a proper course of action. And so with stolen gear, horses, provisions and a trail of bodies behind them they retreated to high ground.

They found a large deserted cabin and Leo was instructed in how to start the ancient but still functional generator to power up their new home. Cassandra plugged in the computer equipment that she scrounged and Leo humped happily up the Mountain. She up-linked to still functioning satellites and discovered the secret third level of society, the Geeks.

These were wired up subterranean types who hated the Wild Ones and the Elite and moved among them, in the dark, mostly unseen. These info-based snoops kept track of the comings and goings of most everyone. They hacked the Elite and spied on the Wild Ones with re-sparked spy satellites that still circled the globe. The Geeks, they had their protectors as well.

Samson Reems was one such man. He was the ultimate doer of dirty deeds done expensively. He could maim and kill with his hands as well as sword and knife. His favorite means of dispatch were hand made, double holstered, 38 cal, explosive shelled, nine-shooters. It was his only obsession. Standing to his powerful well built height of five-foot-seven and drawing up on a man face to face, so to speak, was the honorable, ethical and moral defining rules of his personal credo. Killing any other way was just part of the job. Ridding the world of human scum was just a pleasure. He was technically a bounty hunter. When the Geeks needed to find certain technologies, whether in the hands of the Wild Ones or the Elite, he was sent to acquire it or destroy it. If certain individuals became a nuisance he was dispatched to make them go away. Samson liked working for the Geeks. They provided quiet accommodations, good food, and fine drink. They also paid him in gold or copper. These are the easiest commodities in which to barter with both the Wild Ones and the Elite. Because of the heavy pouch he carried, there were no banks that could be trusted, he was welcomed most anywhere. That ability being very helpful to a man in his line of work but it made him a constant target for thieves. He took it in stride because it kept him sharp.

Samson dressed in black, wore a black cloak, black wide brimmed hat and rode a great black stallion with black livery. He was neither handsome nor ugly. He was leathery and brown skinned, his long black hair was three- braided to his waist. He was clean-shaven and moved like a powerful cat. His pistol speed was awesome to watch deadly if you were personally involved. He was feared as a nightmare and a fiend of the night. Most who found out he was coming, with a termination order for them, killed themselves praying for Gods mercy. They would get none from Samson. He had a reputation for creative and painfully long lasting dispatchments. The reputation deserved or not was good for business.

The world had changed.

The Elite were pampered; narrowly educated and avarice based rich, whose selfish, greedy wealth assisted their ancestors to ride out the Change in bunkers, in high-flying planes, and great ships. Some even in specially designed space vehicles. These spawn of Old Families, Generals, Admirals, Politicians, Bishops and Heads of industry wanted their comfortable and polished version of the Old World to return.

The little people had created a world more closely related to the Wild West of the now defunct United States. A simpler world not bound by technology or the rules of economy. Law was a matter of power and convenience. None were hampered by the creations of intellect and curious science, but by need, sweat and fear. They were servants, laborers, farmers, miners, gamblers, carpenters, con men and thieves, prostitutes, highwaymen, muleskinners, blacksmiths, swindlers, ranchers, merchants, preachers, lawmen, and all armed to the teeth. The new economy was based on food, strength, cruelty and weapons. Small towns flourished in the wilderness, springing up around the gold and copper mines that the New World valued.

The three worlds struck a balance and it worked for awhile.

Until the Elite scientists decided and convinced the other Elite that they wanted to send men to Mars. Mars became the new promise land. The Elite abducted Geeks and Wild Ones and forced them into servitude. In just ten years the New Moscow Space industry flourished, millions lived and flourished under it spell. It was a society based on greed and so - criminal entrepreneurs popped up everywhere in a world fueled by greed and illegal enhancement drugs. Whatever you needed and for whatever you wanted it for- it was yours for a price. The Elite just like the Old World allowed these enterprises and even used the money to help fund inadequate law enforcement to stem the tide of these criminal elements. A device that guarantees a high retail cost for the drugs. Earth long dry found a new interest in drugs. And the Drugs Barons were created.

Cassandra wanted to go to Mars; it was her Holy Grail. If there was anything she knew it was chemistry and the Elite bastards were missing the point. Drugs altered you and did harm in its addiction. She wanted to synthesis her natural compounds. To have others do your bidding without complaint was the ultimate power. She would conquer Mars and be both worlds ultimate Pitch Women …for herself.

The Elite since her escape had figured out what she could do and for that same reason wanted their 'investment', their 'property' back. A huge reward of millions in gold was offered for her.

That's when the trouble really started.

The Geeks wanted a part of that vast reward and wanted a rightful place on Mars. They were exposed and lost a good deal of their brain trust to the abductions. They had devised a plan for the money, the liberation of their own and an appropriate revenge. They sent Samson to go get Cassandra, who they intended to hold for a much higher ransom.

Through their sources the Drug Barons were informed of Cassandra's talents and feared the loss of business and the treachery of the Elite. They wanted her dead and they too contacted Samson. And he, liking both deals, took them both. He was not at all concerned that the deals were conflicting. Samson always trusted that all would come out just fine.

He saddled up and left the next night. He wanted to get on the road and get a line on where Cassandra was going. It was clear to him she had a plan. The equatorial low land areas of Old Denver was wet and hot. It was the center of commerce in that region. The ore and coffee that pored out of the ground funded the development of the area. Although the underground facilities that created Cassandra were now closed because they too were now exposed. The Elite never admitted to any such evil doings It was their PR that they took care of the little people, a bold face lie as long as history. It was, however, a place to start. Fremont in the territories of Nebrasky was a long way from the New Denver site. He would ride only at night and rest in the daylight hours. He expected trouble, people were always the cause. It's the nature of humans to create mischief, if they lacked an anchor of stability to define them. It didn't matter what great 'Lie' you 'Bannered' behind as long as enough of you followed it, and the subsequent hierarchy that benefits from it. When the world shook and drowned the human ants on her skin. Many that lived through it got the 'truth' of it and died for the knowing. Any human with this new and bleak existentialism that was moved to rape, mayhem or murder were sought out and killed by the faithful-lost, in as gruesome a way as possible. These faithful wandered seeking any society to give them meaning. Samson had no use for philosophy- or religion- or those bent on creating experimental societies and the fictions they write down as law. In these times every Town, Village or Keep had its rules and regulations; unskilled or unwanted strangers faired badly for not knowing these complex edicts. Even the most minor offense was a capital crime if you were not a citizen, or related to one. Eliminating strangers was the newest and most popular entertainment. Sheriffs and Judges found plenty of unwilling participants for all kinds of creative and bloody punishments that always fared ill and always fatal for the stranger.

Samson however found his entertainment in dispatching as many Sheriffs and Judges as he could find. He considered himself Ronin. He identified with the concept of honorable unconnected samurai. He had educated himself, trained himself and found balanced trust in his own thoughts and reasons for any action. That made him a very dangerous man. He felt no need for the machinations of some cunning and treacherous master or inflexible edict. Life is easier if you make it up, as you go, not that his way of living guaranteed a long and comfortable life.

The day was hot, humid, and perfect for the rich growing things in sub-tropical Nebrasky. That evening Samson mounted his steed, Ebony. He preferred his comings and goings to be unobserved. He rode all night at a moderate pace. The Coffee Mountains were a long way off and he had to be prepared for those interested in his purse or his latest endeavor.

Toward morning he did in fact encounter a trio of masked highwaymen, two with their guns drawn, standing in the narrow of the road as it headed down the steep side of a canyon to a fast running river below. Samson held back his horse and took in the scene. The middle man, with his hands on his hips, was obviously the leader of these miscreants. The other two were probably kin and were amateurs. They held back in the shadows. Samson spoke quietly addressing the middle and clearly older man before he could bluster in the attempt to create the sense that they, instead of Samson, had the upper hand.

" You don't want to deal with me citizen on this morn." Samson's said in a low growl "I have been riding for the whole of the night and find myself unfortunately in a bleak and worrisome mood."

The older man was undaunted.

" Dear sir, forgive us if we accelerate that darkening mood for which you are now plagued. But we too have had to endure each others company all night waiting for you. I can't speak for my companions, but as for me, I too am in a bleak and horrible mood. Moods, yours or mine, is not currently the issue. We mean to have your purse, your weapons and your horse."

"I don't think so…You've gotten old and you are not as sharp as you used to be …Benning."

The man balked just slightly. Samson continued seated easily on his statue - still horse.

His eyes took in the whole of the scene. Escape was difficult. That was unfortunate for these brash and desperate would-be thieves.

" You already have a bullet in your hip from me old man. Why would you risk one that takes your life? I like you and we have done business in the past. I don't like killing my associates. I will however have to kill the two dogs next to you."

The two men already had their guns drawn and attempted to shoot the black garbed man on the impossibly black horse. It didn’t go as they planned.

Samson drew so fast, firing the silenced guns, that the old man still stared ahead not noticing his men flying backwards and slamming to the ground, dead. Samson pointed his right gun at the older highwayman while he holstered the left. The old man never even drew his gun.

"Things must be bad Benning. Why don't you have your gun out? If you needed a job why didn't you just ask? Take off that ridiculous mask."

Benning sat down hard in the dirt, removed his mask and stared at Samson. He sighed deeply wiping his sweating brow with a rag.

"If I had my gun out you would have killed me 'cause you finally tired of my stupidity. I was afraid to contact you 'cause you would have told me I was too old, that certainly would be the truth. My knees hurt, my bowels don't function like they should, my hip ain't been right since you shot me; not that I didn't have it coming. … I was gonna do the public service of killing those two back there…" He used his thumb to point to the dead men. "Both those idiots snored all night and I got so depressed I figured you would just kill us all here on the road and my repentant soul would be carried angel- winged out of this cursed world."

"Put bullets in your empty gun and get up." Samson holstered the other pistol and dismounted. The old man just sat in the dirt watching Samson.

"How did you know I'd be here?" Samson asked as he walked over to the first dead man and pulled the mask off. This is Avery Drake…mule dung, the world won't miss him." He used his boot to flip over the other dead man. "I don't know this one. These aren't your sons …where are they?"

"As to the first question, your sources are getting easier and cheaper to buy. I suggest that

when you get back from this adventure, if you do, you better clean house. As to the other question Jonus found a certain eager, willing and lying wench over at Falters Keep. She unfortunately was the Sheriffs daughter and her tale of the wanton violation and kidnap went a long way with her father. My son died slowly and badly."

"Too bad. I told him women would get him killed." Samson helped the old man to his feet." What about Raul?"

"Well if you killed me he would swear vengeance." Bennning put bullets in his gun's chamber." Then you would have to kill him, leaving me alone in this retched world."

"Of course I would have to kill him, it would be my duty to honor his vendetta…but you would already be dead you idiot." He picked up the old mans hat, dusted it off, and handed it to him.

" If you let me live …it meant you had a job for me and he would meet us outside Falters Keep. And the Benning line would continue another day." Benning grinned from ear to ear.

"Why would I go there? It's completely out of the way. Get your horse."

Benning disappeared behind the rock and came out in a moment riding a beautiful Roan.

" The man your girl hooked up with was a man named Leo Jordan. He is a complete moron that has stumbled along with the angel of death grasping for him at every corner and missing each time. He is a huge monster of a man. I think she's using him as a body guard or a shield."

Samson turned his horse and started off, Benning followed. Samson threw a clod of dirt he picked up on the road and threw it off to his right. Bennings drew, like lightening, and shot the clod in the air. Samson said nothing as Benning re-holstered his gun.

"We can get provisions from the Geeks. What's with the silencers on your guns?"

"I like your boys Bennings…I really liked Jonus." Samson growled.

" I know you did. Thanks for not killing me."

" I may kill you later, but I don't like killing sad and depressed friends. You weren't with your boys, I figured something was wrong …Hell! I was curious." He slowed his horse and turned to Benning and drew the guns. Benning jerked in his saddle. "New kind of gun the Geeks developed. Same nine shots and blunted rounds, shoots regular loads or these gas loads…they're pretty quiet aren't they? Could prove useful." He re-holstered making Benning relax noticeably.

" Samson those men found me…I think they are…were Elite assassins."

Samson barely nodded.

They rode hard along the canyon floor, well into the morning, in silence. The horses started to froth and needed to be cared after. Samson led them into a side canyon into a defensible sheltered glade with a spring that bubbled out of a rock face in the canyon wall. They watered and wiped down the horses. Both men used the clear water to wipe the trail dust off their faces and torsos and set up camp.

" What do you know about the girl?" Bennings asked as he chewed on a piece of jerky.

Samson started a small campfire and took out his cook kit to make coffee. He put flint to steel and sparked a bundle of oat grass. The fire was up and roaring in little time and the coffee aroma filled the air. Samson rolled a cigarette and put it in his mouth. He rolled another and handed it to Benning. Benning poured them both a cup and they both sat back and enjoyed the coffee and smoke.

" Her name is Cassandra. She has some disturbing qualities. The Geeks tell you more?"

" No… just how much they were paying you to find her and that you were going alone.

"You 're taking a big risk. There's those thinking that killing you would raise their chance at the girl. I think you're gonna need a lot of people watching your back."

" You still carry and throw knifes like I taught you?"

" Maybe not as fast…" He reached behind his head and flipped his wrist forward. He grunted as he stood and meandered over into the bushes he pulled up a large opossum with a small throwing knife stuck well in it.

"…Dinner!"

" I got you to watch my back…ten percent!" Samson pulled his hat down over his eyes.

" Ten percent is good if your girls gettable and we don't die, I'll be able to retire. The Geeks…" He grunted as he pulled the skin off the gutted animal. "…on this Sheriff, they are giving two-thousand in gold."

Samson lifted his brim with interest." Damn, What he do? I was going to gut him for free."

"I appreciate that. The Keep is a retro- place they got a religion says techno was what created Gods wrath. They make great public sport of killing Geeks, religion -like, slow and bloody. The way they did my boy."

"Let's lay low till dark then will cross over and ride up Canyon Run… head over to the 66 concrete strip all the way to the Keep. We'll move along the frontage. Where's you're boy, Raul, gonna be?"

"Camped under-bridge… Geeks got a Terminal Site built down an old drainage tunnel near the bridge…Pretty nice the way they got it fixed up. They don't come up much with the Sheriff always looking for them."

" The Geeks will track us with an eye bird." Samson smiled pointing to the sky. "Your boy will know we're coming. That bridge is about five miles up the 66 strip. Raul still use the bow?"

"Yes he does, for a fact. No matter how many times I tell him I wished he would spend more time with a gun… it's weird. Like you, he likes the fact that it's quiet. You trust me with all this? Hell, maybe I'm falsifying and it's all a trap."

" We'll have him shoot a fire arrow with an insulting Geeky message to that sheriff. It'll bring the butchering bastard out and I'll slip into the Keep. I know a way in. You two hide and when the Sheriff comes back…"

"…extra fifteen hundred if you slit the Judges throat. His left index finger has a snake tattoo and he wears a gold jeweled ring …just bring it with. I asked if you trusted me?"

" What token for the Sheriff?"

"His head."

"Nice, the Geeks are pissed! Your boy will run it back to the Geeks and then catch up with us. You and I move on as soon as it's done."

"He's in too?"

" Lets keep it in the family."

" Yeah…you can trust family pretty far."

"Benning you killed your own son -in -law."

" He was a pain in the ass… I put up with him for ten years before I'd had enough and shot him. My daughter kept hugging and kissing me for months afterwards. I guess it was all right with her. She fell in love with a Geek. He got a thing with little lights attached to his head…makes my skin crawl. My girl thinks it's cute."

" So trust is a flexible thing." Samson watched as the man spitted the animal and put it over the fire.

" Fair enough!"

* * *

Cassandra toweled out her long red hair. She had never cut it in all of her eight tears. She would normally put it up in a bun, but up here it was easier and cleaner to let it fall to her waist. She was still waist deep in the stream her breasts hung heavy and swayed with the effort of drying her hair. She knew Leo was watching her from a blind somewhere. Every movement she made was meant to entice and excite him. She turned into the breeze the chill making her nipples erect. When she was this clean she was vulnerable. Her scent would be washed away and Leo would try to have her, which would be unfortunate. He was useful and killing him now would put a crimp in her plans. She strode out of the stream seductively and sniffed the air. She flipped her hair to the left and caught Leo's scent. He was hiding near the top of the waterfalls. She sniffed again. She smiled and turned her back to him, threw her hair forward over her face, bent deep at the waist drying her hair with twirling rubs of her towel, exposing her perfect heart- shaped bottom and splendid legs. She heard the grunt of pleasure and smelled him on the air. She flushed and shivered at its richness. To bad he was such an animal he had good stuff in his seed, just none of it showed up in him. He would leave her alone now and she could allow the chemicals on her skin to secrete it's magic. She sat down on a blanket and relaxed.

She wondered about this man Samson. She knew from the Geek Web, she hacked, that he was a dangerous man and probably wouldn't be easy to shake. It was clear that Leo wasn't a match for him. The info on him was way too sketchy and that made her nervous. She lay down on her back and let the sun warm up her skin. A little color would be good. Her skin wouldn't tan, blemish or burn, insects didn't bite her and she was hard to bruise or break. Her obvious femininity was in direct contrast to the work of her DNA. She truly was a work of perilous art. Licking her full lips she allowed her mind to float.

She came into womanhood, her time, when she was four. The accelerated growth disturbed the scientists and upset their plans. They had messed with Mother Nature and she had created a monster. Reaching out with her mind, Cassandra could see Samson leaning on a tree gnawing on a bone. He's smaller than she had thought but she liked his muscles and his dark skin. She fantasized about him on top of her and the artistic contrast of their skin. Then she sat up laughing hysterically. She was six feet tall and weighed one hundred and seventy pounds. Controlling herself she looked- out again. He was beautiful. He weighed more than her but he was so short. She giggled like a small girl at the thought of a little song she had heard a lab assistant sing.' If we were toe to head his nose would be in me…if we were head to head his toes would be in me.'

She had never had sex other than what she did to herself. That urge had to be denied as long as Leo was around. If she aroused herself it would signal him that she was ready. When her first menses threw her into a hormonal storm she had stripped naked and tried to force a scientist, but any man would have been fine, he was too terrified and couldn't perform so she killed him by biting out his throat. The violence and taste calmed her. After that she controlled her time. She had to be careful about reaching for Samson for some reason it warmed her up down- there and that wasn't good. Besides he may feel her and that would be imprudent. She got up and got dressed in her baggy pants and a large plaid shirt. It didn't matter, her femaleness was not, in any way, hidden. She slipped on her boots and re-situated her knifes comfortably along the side of her ankles. She slapped her wide brimmed hat against her thighs and put it on without putting up her hair. A bear having caught her scent roared off to the left of the waterfall. He was frightened and had to let her know he didn't like being afraid. She put her head back and screeched like a banshee. The bear got the message but she didn't give a damn whether any male was afraid of her. As she walked back up to the cabin she thought again of the man coming for her ' I could still sleep with the little monster before I killed him.'

* * * (serial end part one)CASSANDRA

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CASSANDRA WRITTEN BY KEN LEHNIG (C) 2004 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED