Jerome Bigge - Warlady 1 - 2565 - Book 1

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2565 A.D.!
A TALE OF ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE OF MAN
By Jerome B. Bigge
Author's Note
I grew up on the Edgar Rice Burroughs books, having read and reread his entire "Mars" series from
"A PRINCESS OF MARS" on for- ward. Later on I discovered John Norman's "GOR" series. "Gor" and
"Barsoom" were utterly different kinds of worlds. Utterly different cultures. In both women usually
played but minor roles. On "Barsoom" they waited to be "rescued" by their hero from "a fate worse than
death", and on "Gor" they simply didn't get "rescued" at all! In both cases they were just there to be
"done to" by someone and nothing more. Usually they were beau- tiful and pretty brainless. The usual
types of "adventure- fiction" female characters. Beautiful and dumb. Sometimes blonde. Always young
and beautiful. And usually incompetent to do anything more than get into "trouble" and then look ever
so beautiful for their handsome and muscular sword-swinging hero. The hero usually being of the sort
who in real life would get run over the first time he tried to cross a busy street without his mother's help!
His stupidity usually serving to insure that he goes from one fantastic and unbelievable adventure to the
next while the reader silently groans at his lack of brains and his dedication to some briefly clad snooty
and haughty "Princess"!
And with this in mind, I introduce you to Doctor Lorraine Marie Duval. Not a blonde. Not beautiful.
Rather competent. The greatest swordswoman of the 26th Century or any time for that matter! The kind
of a woman that will rescue you from boredom or from the TV for a couple days and make you think
just a bit about just what a woman like her might just possibly be able to do!
Along with Lorraine I also introduce you to a delightful cast of characters, mostly all female, who
will delight and amaze you in this tale of daring do. One of whom is not even human! Lorraine Duval's
adventures taking place upon two worlds, the Earth of the 26th Century, and the PLANET MARS! (No,
she doesn't meet up with "John Carter", at least not in this story!) I do promise you, however, that
Lorraine does "grow" on you, and I think you will learn to love her just as I have over these pages.
Jerome B. Bigge
Next Chapter
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2565 A.D.!
A TALE OF ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE OF MAN
By Jerome B. Bigge
Book One
Chapter One
"Lorraine," my stepdaughter Sharon begged again there beside me, "I don't think you should be
doing this. Not now!" Her beautiful soft azure eyes now filled with concern as they looked up into the
icy cold angry darkness of mine. The blonde sixteen year old teenager hurrying to keep up beside me,
my angry stride long and swift. My high heeled leather booted feet made little sound on the heavy thick
carpet underfoot as I strode furiously down that dark hallway past the closed doors of the three vice-
presidents of DUVAL COMPUTER INC. The soft rustle of my long black flowing silken dress
seemingly loud in my ears as Sharon hurried to keep up at my side. My stylish broad brimmed black hat
and net veil partially concealed the hot anger in my face. I am tall, 5'9", and strong as a whip. Far
stronger than most wom- en. A tall hard featured aristocratic French brunette that sus- pected the worst
was now happening to her loveless and dying mar- riage! Why it concerned me so then is a question I
can't answer!
Sharon was nicely dressed, better than most teenagers you see. I am a good mother. Perhaps a bit too
"strict", but that is another issue you may consider for yourself as I have no wish to get into such things.
For tonight she had worn a lovely pale blue silken blouse and a long flowing red and white checkerboard
skirt, the color going well with her "peaches and cream" com- plexion, as did the hose and patent leather
sandals she wore. Her hair a glorious golden mane that fell just below her shoul- ders. She was a
beautiful girl in every way, perhaps a bit too "beautiful" for her own good, her sixteen year old body
already showing the "promise" of a beautiful womanhood to come. I wor- ried about her. About what
would happen if she had to go through another divorce. As a practicing psychiatrist I knew what harm
could be done to a young impressionable mind like hers should Sharon have to again suffer the agony of
another bitter divorce!
"Please, Lorraine!" Sharon whispered as we halted before the door marked "PRESIDENT". "I- I
don't want to lose you!" No doubt vivid in her mind was the thought she would never see me again if
there was an end to the marriage between her father and me. Being only her stepmother, there was a
good chance that Jack would be "awarded" Sharon. The thought making me hesitate for a moment.
Sharon had become much more than just a stepdaughter to me. Much more. Yet it was still our tenth
wedding anniversary. Jack had not come home from the office to help celebrate it with me. I thought
that I knew the reason why too. That note from Janet Rogers had told me all that I needed to know about
things!
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Janet Rogers was a young University student working part- time at DCI on our "work-study"
program. A very intelligent young woman who people often mistook for my own daughter, we were so
much alike. In her I had found something of a "kindred spir- it", someone who I could share my
thoughts, my ideas with. I had no doubt that someday she would go far, as she was ambitious and bright,
willing to work hard for a goal. It had been with tears in her eyes that she had shoved the note into my
hand and then fled down the hallway, leaving me standing there, Sharon at my side. The note having
read that Jack was "cheating" on me with Sandra Stephens, his personal secretary, a busty short skirted
wide hipped bleached blonde with a big rear end who was the sub- ject of a continuous number of quite
"risque" jokes here at DCI.
"What ever happens, you will be staying with me," I an- swered, clear in my own mind the thought
that American civil law "ended" at the border and that my widowed sister in Baja would be quite glad to
take care of Sharon for me should it become neces- sary to flee the country. Pushing the door open
before me as I spoke, and expecting to see exactly what I saw there before me!
"OH SHIT!" I heard Jack gasp as he looked up, Sandra in his lap "naked" but for her bikinis, drinks
there on the desk before them along with a white powder whose "identity" I had no doubt. Jack himself
naked to the waist, the marks of her lipstick clear- ly visible there on his chest. I had suspected for some
time that Jack might be "cheating" on me, but I thought he at least had better tastes than this cheap little
office tart who flaunted her overripe slutty body in front of everyone! I still recalled the last time, when
Jack had made a "pass" at Carol Simmons, the wife of a very good friend of mine, and the angry promise
I had made him then to divorce him if I ever caught him doing anything like that again! Obviously he
had not taken me too seriously!
"I thought you had better sense than this, Jack Duval!" I snapped, my dark eyes searing into his as
we glared at each other from across the room. The rich furnishings of his office a si- lent backdrop to
what passed between us now. Sharon at my side now clinging to me as if she feared losing me this very
instant. Her young world suddenly turned horribly upside down. The bleached blonde hussy who had
caused all this trouble clutching her red nylon dress to herself as she stood there in the corner, terror
showing on her child-like features. I knew her kind all too well. Money "attracts" them like shit attracts
flies! A bleached blonde slut who could type and take dictation, but oth- erwise little different than her
sisters out selling their half- clad slutty bodies out there on the streetcorners of Los Angeles!
"She's at least a woman, which is more than I could ever say for you, Lorraine!" Jack snapped back
in reply. His gray eyes cold as arctic ice as they burned into mine from across his desk. His hands balled
into furious fists on its rich polished oak sur- face. Sharon there at my side clinging tightly to my arm.
The beautiful teenage girl looking first at me and then at her still handsome blond haired father. The hurt
now showing in her lovely eyes as she looked up at me. I hated myself for what I had done to her, but I
felt it best that she know the "TRUTH" firsthand!
I felt "betrayed" that he would do such a thing to me. Es- pecially with someone like that, Sandra
being nothing more than a cheap "TART"! I had not been a "demanding" wife like so many I knew. I
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had never denied him my slim body whenever he wanted it. I had gone along with whatever he wanted
me to "do" there in the bedroom, worn whatever costumes he wanted me to wear. I thought we had a
good sexual relationship if nothing else. I certainly didn't deserve to be treated like this! I clung to
Sharon like a drowning sailor lost in the middle of the ocean to a water-logged life-preserver. She was
all I left now! My marriage was "dead" and nothing could ever bring it back to life now after seeing all
this! I am not one who can "forgive and forget" such things!
"You know what this means, Jack," I answered, my voice cold as ice, its tone showing the hurt that I
felt. I had warned him before of what would happen if I caught him with another woman after the "pass"
he had made with Carol. That time I had "for- given" him. This time I could not. Sharon standing
silently at my side, her hand on my arm. She was all that I had left now of my dead marriage. I briefly
clasped her arm, smiled, as if to tell her how much I appreciated her standing by me just then!
"Yes, I know what this means," Jack replied, sitting there behind his desk, naked to the waist, the
marks of Sandra's lip- stick smeared all over his chest. Reaching down, opening the drawer to his desk
as I stood there. Then adding in icy tones, "I hope you do". The blued snub-nosed revolver suddenly in
his hand making me start with surprise and stunned disbelief that he would actually be stupid enough to
pull a gun on me! Sharon gasping with shock as she saw her own father pointing it at me! Her young
eyes going wide with terror as she looked down its deadly waving black muzzle! WHAT WAS HE
THINKING OF DOING NOW!?
"Jack! Don't Be A Fool! Put That Away!" I snapped, think- ing of Sharon there beside me, putting as
much authority into my voice as I could. I felt her shivering with terror as she clung to me. A cold chill
going down my spine as he silently cocked it in reply. The metallic click terrifying in its implications!
Sandra stepping back a step, her back to the wall, fear showing in her soft brown eyes, her hand before
her open red mouth, the red dress she held before herself almost forgotten in her terror.
"I can't afford another divorce," Jack answered in cold tones. His voice was flat and toneless, the
Smith & Wesson's muzzle a terrifying sight. I did not think that he would be foolish enough to let me
reach the Walther PPK .380 in my big leather purse slung over my left shoulder. Or the slim blade
strapped to my left thigh beneath my long flowing skirt. I am not "like" other women. Jack knew that
well after ten years of marriage to me. The jokes made at Duval Computer about my being "the toughest
bitch in LA" had the ring of truth about them. I should have left Sharon out in the car, I thought to
myself as I looked down that .38 bore, aware that Jack was out of his head from the cocaine he had been
"sniffing" earlier. I wondered how much the alcohol had slowed his reaction times. What it would feel
like when the bullet struck me and plowed through my heart.
"You can't afford three murders either, Jack," I answered in a cold level voice that betrayed little of
my true emotions. Slipping my heavy purse down off my shoulder and nudging Sharon to one side with
my elbow. My dark eyes hard and cold. My reac- tion times are extremely swift. The fencing masters
back when I was on the French Olympic fencing team had said that they had never ever seen anyone as
"fast" as me. I had over the years kept up my skills, more for the exercise than anything else, but it had
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kept me "supple" and swift on my feet even if Jack had laughed at being married to a wife who engaged
in such an "unfem- inine" sport! "The Queen of Swords" being one of my nicknames!
As terrified by my words as I thought she might be, Sandra moved towards her lover. Her movement
diverting his attention only for that brief instant that I needed. LIKE A BLACK MISSILE MY PURSE
FLEW TOWARDS HIM, THE BLAST OF THE .38 DEAFENING AS I LEAPED FORWARD! MY
FINGERS LIKE STEEL AS I SEIZED HIS HOT GUN AND THRUST IT ASIDE! MY VICIOUS
SWIFT FLATTENED PALM SMASHING HIS NOSE AGAINST HIS FACE, STUNNING HIM
WITH THE AGONY OF THE BLOW! My thumb driving deep into a nerve making the smoking gun
drop with a heavy thud to the desktop. A harsh shove forcing him back as a second later he looked down
the still smoking muzzle of his own weapon! Blood running down his face as Jack whimpered like a
little hurt child with the pain of his now smashed nose!
"I was only going to ask for Sharon and enough money for her education," I said in a flat, toneless
cold voice, "But now, Jack, it is going to be an entirely different story!" And with this I retrieved my
purse, and slipped the gun inside with mine. Gathering my stunned stepdaughter, I snapped, "Enjoy your
slut, Jack, if you still can!" With this I turned and strode from the room, taking Sharon with me, and
slammed the door behind me as I left. Leaving Jack standing there with the blood running down his face,
and his blonde hussy yet standing there at his side.
Next Chapter
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