THE QUEEN OF TIME
2570 A.D.!
A TALE OF ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE
By Jerome B. Bigge
Chapter One

     
It was a pleasant cool early summer evening here in Trella,
a quarter moon now shining brightly down upon us as the last glow
of the setting sun disappeared there in the west. A few clouds
from time to time drifting across the star sprinkled vault as two
planets, Jupiter and Saturn, shown down as they have perhaps when
the dinosaurs yet roamed this world of ours so many eons ago now.
The lovely city of Trella, much like what Rome must have been in
its glory, settling down for the night as people shuttered their
homes against the footpads and such that yet roamed its streets
despite the best efforts of our guardsmen to prevent such crimes.
The "thought" now going through my mind as I write this that de-
spite the claims of Sarah Brady and such sorts back there in the
20th Century, "outlawing guns" did not make things any "safer"...
Something any "student" of the Roman Empire could have told her!
Trella having a "history" that goes back centuries of such crime!
Queen Amethysta of the 24th Century having had the same problems
here that I have dealing with the footpads and other "low lifes"
that make Trella a dangerous place to walk during the night time.
     
The Queen of Trelandar, Warlady of the Empire of California,
your truly here, Lorraine Richards herself, was enjoying a quiet
evening with those most "close" to her, while holding to herself
the shocking news she'd learned just that day! I, Queen Lorraine
of Trelandar, surrounded here now by every "luxury" that the
hands of Man could build, was yet well aware of my own mortality!
Of the "FACT" that I had now but thirty to thirty five years left
to live when before I'd looked forward to at least "TWICE" that
number here now in the 26th Century! And worse yet, I would soon
begin to visibly "AGE" while those around me stayed YOUNG!!! I
would eventually become an "OLD WOMAN", something to "PITY" in a
society where such things were almost "unknown" to most people!!
Was "THAT" how I wanted my people to remember me now? I recalled
how people had spoken of Queen Tulis of Dularn, who had suffered
from a brain tumor that was slowly driving her insane. She had
killed herself rather than to face the insane madness at the END!
It was with such "thoughts" going through my mind that I listened
to my companions speak, while sipping quietly at my own brandy...
     
"The `world' is finally at `peace'," my husband Jon Richards
spoke, thoughtfully regarding the "level" of the brandy in his
cut glass goblet, "And a man can enjoy a little quiet conversa-
tion without worrying as to what `next' is going to happen now."
My own dark mood fortunately having gone unnoticed as yet so far.
Our slave girl, Yvette, now swiftly refilling Jon's goblet then,
her dark eyes glowing into his as he nodded back at the "delight"
in her clinging red silken shift that concealed "little" of her.
The golden ring of her slave collar snug about her lovely throat.
Jon having for several years found himself often "separated" from
me as we each carried out our duties towards Imperial California,
Yvette having often been his "companion" during those times. "No
longer do our `lords and ladies' need to fear a `Dulie'," he ad-
ded, Maris Marn and her lithe "North Star" having taught us all a
good lesson in the past about the capabilities of such vessels.
The Mexicans were still capable of making "trouble", but as Tara
had apparently "retired", I doubted that they would any more now.
The Princess having apparently now learned the error of her ways.
The Nevadas had gotten into a "clash" with the Wyomings, but the
likelihoods of this escalating into anything serious were remote.
Neither the Dularnian Federation or the Empire of California now
wishing to allow such a conflict to escalate into anything major.
And piracy was now under control with Queen Freydis' people being
a part of the Dularnian Federation, enjoying the economic advan-
tages of free trade both now with Dularn and Imperial California.
     
"And our Queen can now relax with her own family," my Royal
Scribe, Keri Grayson added, the tall beautiful slender brunette's
dark eyes meeting mine as I "nodded" back. Little Eric, eleven
months old, now pulling at his nanny's rich brown hair as she
quietly cradled him to herself there to one side of the tasteful-
ly decorated suite and gave him the bottle. Sue Cross being an
attractive and rather full busted wide hipped wench of the Peas-
ants whom I'd purchased eight months before as being of the right
"sort" to make a good "nanny" for a Prince of Trelandar. A free
woman once again, Sue carried in her womb the developing fetus of
the baby girl that would "complete" this Queen's family. My
previous pregnancy having taught me that I wasn't the sort of a
woman to bear children, while a good healthy young woman like Sue
here could have given birth to half a dozen and never noticed it!
     
I am tall, five foot nine, and rather "mannish" in my build,
with coal black hair and deep dark brown eyes set in a rather
"plain" face. Not the sort of a woman you'd ever look at twice
here. I mention this so you will understand better why I some-
times act the way that I do. That I sometimes doubt any man can
love me for myself, not for what I am as the Queen of Trelandar.
Why I am so "distrustful" of any woman more attractive than I am.
     
"And pass one's genes down to future generations," I spoke,
well AWARE of WHAT the Royal Physician had TOLD me just today! I
had been puzzled by the first signs of menopause, which shouldn't
have been occurring, not with the anti-aging serums we used now!
The blood tests however had confirmed my worst fears, it appear-
ing here now that I'd neglected to receive the "secondary" serum
when I arrived in this era five years ago, and due to my age, the
"primary" serum had never taken "effect" upon me as I'd thought!
Now it was too late, my age such that the serums no longer would
be of any value, which meant that I would live out a normal life
span for a woman of the 20th Century, somewhere between seventy
five and eighty years most likely, and then die of old age here!*

* The reader may question here the truth of this considering that
in Queen Maris' book it appears as if the serums were "effective"
in such a case as this. However, it is likely that Queen Maris,
not being a Physician, would not have known that the serums were
of no value in extending the life of the old slave girl. (J.B.B.)

     
"When are you going to get married, Keri?" my husband asked.
Keri had a number of handsome young suitors, but none of them had
seemed to be the sort of a "man" that she'd been looking for now.
With her long black raven wing hair, her well molded face, Keri
was a woman that could have won any man's heart here in any era.
She was a competent swordswoman, a capable and competent woman, a
woman who in her own way muchly reminded me of Lady Sanda Talen,
who has been my own Prime Minister now for the past five years.
Keri's lovely silken blouse and matching brown leather skirt, the
sword at her hip much like the attire that Sanda usually wore...
     
"When I find a `man'," Keri smiled, meeting my own smile.
She was young, still in her twenties, and would live for another
century at least, changing only a little there at the end of it.
I wondered if Keri was still in "love" with Bob Simmons, who had
with his wife returned back to the 20th Century, Maris having in-
formed me that First Priestess Tais had later returned their own
daughter to them instead of leaving her with Maris as they had.
I knew that their last remains now laid safely hidden in a cave a
few miles from the city of Arsana, Janet Rogers having faithfully
carried out their last wishes despite their own puzzling content.
Their bodies having been irradiated against decay and then sealed
in heavy stainless steel coffins after they'd committed suicide
together in the year 2033, Carol dying of Alzheimier's disease
while her husband in turn was soon to die of major heart failure.
Bob's last writings here directed to "A LOVELY QUEEN", saying in
a few dozen sentences that they were finally "returning home"...
"Words" I had no doubt must have greatly "puzzled" Janet Rogers!
     
"I can name a dozen Warriors who would be delighted to have
you as their wife," Jon smiled back, Keri being a beautiful woman
of high caste parentage, which is often thought "important" here.
Keri being the granddaughter of Lady Tirana Grayson, who is the
Warlady of Trelandar, and perhaps one of my best friends here in
the 26th Century. An old Warrioress who in her day had once been
the Warlady of Sarn before Darlanis used her as a "scapegoat" to
conceal her own lack of understanding of military "tactics" here.
Darlanis being our awesomely beautiful Empress who while I admire
her greatly, still has a rather "checkered" past to live down...
     
"You'd think I was your `daughter' the way you're trying to
marry me off!" Keri laughed, her dark eyes twinkling into mine as
I nodded back. I do often get somewhat "emotionally involved" in
matters I suppose a wiser Queen than I would not, but on the oth-
er hand I think that is probably "why" I am the Queen that I am!
     
"Shall we change the `subject'?" I suggested with a smile.
Keri having just received some fragments of books written back in
the 21st Century, her group of young Scribes having done their
best to piece them back together into something we could read...
I'd considered commanding an expedition into the ruins of Los An-
geles, now inhabited only by mutants and the worst of outlaws. I
knew of wild rumors that there was supposed to be some sort of an
underground "civilization" beneath the ruins, but that I felt was
nothing more than the sort of things I used to read about back in
the 20th Century! Tales of "space aliens", of strange giant bugs
and such nonsense that no intelligent person would ever believe!
The sort of "tabloids" that they used to sell in supermarkets...
     
"I'd like to be on that expedition you're planning into the
ruins," Keri ventured, the topic being on everyone's mind lately.
I'd perfected flamethrowers, and in the past couple years I'd now
raised several hundred Bull Terriers, the finest fighting dog any
could wish for, such being in my opinion just the sort of "help"
we might well need for an expedition into the "ruins" of LA here!
I'd also take a dozen or so Boston Terriers, the "royal dog" of
Trelandar dating back a couple centuries. Our first "expedition"
into the ruins last year having taught us that perhaps there was
"more" to these "legends" than even I'd imagined here, assuming
that what my own Warrioresses had told me about things was TRUE!
     
"I do need a Scribe," I smiled back, knowing she would be my
choice, Keri Grayson being to me almost like another daughter...
"There are a lot of `mysteries' about the past that we can't yet
explain," I added, recalling what Keri had told me earlier here.
The old "rumors" that there had been about Janet Rogers' parents,
Janet having been a "foundling" from what was known of her then.
The tale a wino had told about seeing the baby girl delivered to
the orphanage by an "angel" no doubt just an drunk's "illusion"!
Janet and I having had a good "laugh" about "that" back in 1988.
     
"Like the `disappearance' of Hope Simmons in 2018," Keri an-
swered. "There is also a `rumor' that a `UFO' was sighted then,"
she added, the Lorr having from time to time kidnaped women from
the Earth and taken them to Mars to serve them as their Servitors
there in the great underground caverns of the Lorr civilization.
     
"Ended up on Mars serving the `ants'," my husband "smiled".
Most people still viewed the Lorr as a species of hostile aliens.
     
"And there's enough `mystery' about events just before it
happened to make one wonder," Keri mused, looking over at me now.
"There was supposed to be some sort of a strange woman with her.
Some sort of an incredibly awesome swordswoman like none before."
     
"Another `tale' of the past we'll never know the truth of,"
Jon "grinned", taking a sip of his brandy, Sue looking up at me.
She was a rather attractive wench in a way, quite ripely figured.
Much like Kathi had been, Lady Tirana's own personal slave girl.
Sue was now well along in her pregnancy, nearly six months here.
     
"Unless I can convince Tais to allow me to travel back," I
mused thoughtfully, having for the moment at least found "some-
thing" to take my mind off my own troubles here. The Priestesses
of Lys had the ability to travel through time to a range of about
two thousand years in either direction, I'd once heard from Bob.
There was also a story a couple of centuries old of two mysteri-
ous "swordswomen" from some strange unknown land who had been so
"invincible" that none could stand against them! One of them had
later on even become a Queen of Trelandar, Queen Hope, although I
didn't consider it likely there was any "relation" here! "Hope"
is a common enough woman's name here in Trelandar that it was ex-
tremely unlikely that the mysterious Trelandarian Queen had actu-
ally been our Hope Lynn Simmons. In any case she hadn't left any
writings behind to "verify" such an idea one way or another here.
The great fire that had nearly destroyed the royal palace back a
century ago had destroyed any painting that might have existed...
Queen Hope having ascended the throne after the disappearance in
318 A.W. of Queen Amethysta, that famous Trelandarian Queen who
it is said rose from being a fighting slut to Queen of Trelandar.
     
"I hope you have more `sense' than that," Jon grinned at me.
"I'd hate to `lose' the best wife I ever had somewhere in time."
I nodded, looking down into my cut glass goblet, wondering if he
would still love me "so" when I was wrinkled and gray with age...

     
"You seemed to be in a dark mood earlier this evening," Jon
said to me as we prepared for bed, Yvette there waiting to be of
assistance. It is not that unusual for married couples of this
era to allow a personal slave girl to enjoy a degree of "intima-
cy" with them that might have shocked many of my own time, but I
was not one who ever allowed "such", being a "prude" about this!
The bedroom of the Queen of Trelandar being much as you'd expect,
although I am not the "luxury lover" that Darlanis is, I'll note.
My "tastes" in such things being less "feminine" than hers are.
     
"You may leave, Yvette," I spoke, the girl quickly doing so,
closing the door behind herself as I went to it and slipped the
bar home so I was sure that we wouldn't be "disturbed" by anyone!
The only light now in the room the lamp there on my bed table. I
am not a beautiful woman, and I like it dark when I make love. I
could feel the "chill" of the night air against my skin as I
stood there, the sounds of the night wafting through the windows.
     
"You are `serious'," Jon breathed, regarding me as I stood
there, wearing only a teddy of silk and lace that covered little.
The rich furnishings of our bedroom leaving no doubt as to my own
status as Queen of Trelandar. A woman so wealthy that she wanted
for nothing that money could buy. A woman who could give orders,
command ships at sea, who possessed the only airplane left now!
A woman who through her own efforts, through her own example, had
brought together warring societies, much like "another" once had!
Many people now viewing me as being the "second Janet Rogers"...
     
"You know about these `strange feelings' I've had lately,
these `sweats'," I added, the "last" having been something there
had been no way to "conceal", given the attire that I often wore.
"The irregular ovulation that made so much trouble for us here?"
That was another reason why Sue Cross was carrying our daughter!
     
"The `doc' probably told you to `take it easy' for a while,"
Jon smiled back. "After all, you've been through a lot lately."
Giving me a smile as he sat there on the edge of our bed naked
but for the "strap" that people of this era wear as "underwear".
He was handsome, manly, the sort of a husband any wife would be
delighted to be married to. Far superior to what Jack had been!
With Jack Duval I'd been just something to "use", to "exploit"!
He'd needed a "wife" to keep Sharon, and I'd been "available".
Our marriage had been loveless, just a "marriage" in name only...
I'd been to Jack just a "business wife", something to be "used".
     
"Do you love me, Jon?" I asked, standing there, my eyes now
starting to fill with tears. "Do you truly love me?" I now wept!
Standing there before him, the tears now rolling down my cheeks!!
     
"Lorraine!" Jon cried, taking me in his arms, lifting me up.
Cradling me to himself as I might a baby, carrying me then to the
bed, setting me down, letting me sob out the fears I carried!
Stroking me, holding me, letting me know that he still loved me!!
     
"You're a strange woman in some ways," Jon said to me as he
held me close, my "having" something I'd badly "needed" just now!
"But on the other hand with you life is never `boring' either..."
     
"I only wish we could have more `time' together," I spoke.
     
"Let us then value the time that we have," he said to me.
     
"Sanda would make you a good wife," I said to him then.
     
"I don't love Sanda," Jon answered, holding me close.
     
"She once `offered' herself to you," I pointed out.
     
"She is not the `woman' that you are," Jon said then.
     
"I'm a homely old bitch, good for little," I said to him.
     
"And a `comfort' to have around at times," he grinned back.
     
"I had hoped we might face Lys together," I answered then.
     
"Like the Simmons did?" he asked, knowing of their suicide.
     
"They loved each other so much," I spoke, weeping a bit.
     
"Bob did think highly of her," Jon smiled, kissing me.
     
"She was a woman like few others," I said, remembering.
     
"Like the one I now hold," he answered, holding me close.
     
"She was beautiful in her way," I said, remembering Carol.
     
"And as `vicious' as one of your dogs," Jon smiled back.
     
"The Bull Terriers aren't `vicious'!" I answered him then.
     
"Whatever you say, my Queen," he grinned, kissing me again.
     
"A Queen should be treated with `dignity'," I teased, his
hand down there between my thighs doing what I liked done to me.
I wondered if the people of Trella ever thought of "what" their
own Queen "did" when she was in bed with her husband? I supposed
most people thought of me as being something utterly "different"
from themselves. Something more "sexless", like a Priestess was.
     
"In her own bedroom?" Jon teased, well aware of my own need.
     
"I suppose in her bedroom she can be a `woman'," I agreed.
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