| Subject: Mon Roi - Chapter 37 |
Author:
Loveroy
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Date Posted: Tuesday, August 24, 02:04:58am
In reply to:
Loveroy
's message, "Mon Roi - Chapter 36 and forward" on Thursday, August 12, 02:40:15am
The couple found themselves acting in a scene from an old black and white film. The story they inhabited in the sci-fi gendre filled the screen in their minds with visions of some time in the future while the protagonists where stuck in the past. A Prince, his heir and his love amidst historical antiquities of unmeasurable value, kept in museum quality splendor. Although this was real life, the only way they could remain grounded was by adjusting the profile to serve their immediate requirements. Their jailers dressed them in the fashion of their ancestors, making them look like the portraits, so important to both Michael and Nikita.
Prince Michael started his thorough compilation of information for his matrix. He had to catalogue in his psyche every minute detail that he learned so far. So hoping to gain momentum and with the help of the woman by his side, they started formatting the most comprehensive profile Michael was able to come up with. Now, where did the necklace come from? Michael had studied the stones; they were the genuine item… Nikita surmised the jewels must have come from her farmhouse.
The sanitized oxygen imperative to survive was pumped into the bedroom through evident apparatuses too elaborate to be hidden. A commingling of the past, the present and the future, trying hard to put forth a semblance of normalcy and uniformity to the trio’s life. But, the obviously newly developed scientific marvels surrounding them failed miserably at their task of offering comfort or even a degree of luxury, which was needed to relax amidst this sense of vulnerability. Why were the common folk outside not enjoying the safety of the oxygenated interior? Obviously, Michael concluded, the populace’s lives were not important enough to save.
There they where, Michael, Nikita and Adam in a room somewhere, at an unknown hour, with unascertained people in an undiscovered scenario that raised every misgiving the couple now shared. What was this location which was so unrecognizable to both Nikita and Michael and yet somehow identifiable to him? The couple having lost track of time was also not sure of the date, nor aware of the hour. Furthermore, they needed to find out whom Jones, Chandler and the men and women who meandered about were?
But still, although unfamiliarity ruled the boundaries of their reality, this whole environment felt - contrived. It was safe to assume that they were in one of the many castles Michael’s family owned but hardly visited or knew. Nikita and Michael could presume that the time and date was close to their egress time from Michael’s realm, and that the men… well, their identity was the most difficult piece of the puzzle. As to the contrived feeling of the scenario, it was quite obvious that someone had worked hard establishing this application.
Nikita thought hard, she was not aware of a missing father, much less this man who claimed to be her progenitor. Michael pondered and realized that although he was cognizant of all the players in this game of cat and mouse, he had no inkling of where these men had come from or what they really wanted. The couple’s lack of Intel was something that was keeping Michael on his toes and although he was more than capable of creating his own profiles, even Nikita could see the Prince’s frustration.
The handsome monarch was convinced that the room was clean, no listening devices, no monitoring mechanism of any sort. Although Michael was sure that new observation instruments he was not aware off could have been developed by his ‘hosts’, he doubted this was the case. There was still much to be done in this strange New World and surely all their resources had to be focused on providing filtered screening for the ether infested atmosphere, which surrounded the compound. Spyware was surely the least of any ones priorities, especially when their exterior looked like if time had stood still.
Michael thought of the coffins that they had spied when they entered the city, which each sported a large letter ‘C’. From the information they had gathered so far, he determined that the initial stood for the ‘Collective’, the group that had ordered their move to this site and that Jones informed them had been eradicated. Michael also thought back to the people on the long lines waiting for the antidotes and vaccination that was surely keeping them alive and realized they looked like survivors of the terrorist attack. The monarch was sure these individuals were not long for this world, and reasoned that the 1000 or so inside the hall where the only ones slated to survive.
Michael understood from all the garbage, the still noxious atmosphere and the mismatched biohazard clothing Nikita and him spotted at the doorway, that this group, whomever they were, had done nothing more than gotten-by so far. He also realized these people needed him to, if nothing else make them part of his well-organized realm and thus assure them a place in the fold and in the future of the Planet.
The Worth family’s demand had been a ruse, for there was no reason to believe any relations of the blonde had survived Armageddon. These people’s Intel had showed that Michael could be enticed to help if the woman’s lineage was in peril and therefore used that excuse to pull them in. This visit by the Prince would insure the hosts that their lives would be rebuilt once and for all, or at least this is what Jones and the others hoped.
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