Ghaelvord sat alone in his study. He poured over the books brought by Malacoda. His beady eyes scanned images of the crudely riveted B-29 Superfortress, the Enola Gay. He studied the black and white photographs and wondered that color film had not yet been invented, the plane looked handmade, and yet it carried a nuclear fission device, the “Little Boy” bomb that was dropped on the city of Hiroshima on August 6th of 1945. Ghaelvord wondered at the lack of progress of humanity in some areas and the advancement in others. He took it all in and pondered his gameplan. He had rapidly progressed through the reading material on the last two centuries. He would soon dive into the cutting-edge modern material and see if he could figure out not only where humanity sat, but where they would soon go. A long, detailed report from the European Organization for Nuclear Research sat on the top of his pile of modern reading material. The organization had amassed a staggering amount of money and built a device that piqued Ghaelvord’s interest.

He heard a knock at the door and Malacoda walked in.

“Well, Commander. Have you figured out our moves?”

“We awoke in a topsy-turvy world Malacoda. These people had nuclear weapons before they had color photography. One nation polices the world. Debt burdens are rising. Populations in the lesser nations are exploding. Trade has supplanted war as the primary means for resource gathering, but the various nations still struggle to balance and channel their business affairs. Theocracies have largely fallen out of power. Pockets of governments have begun to recognize the need for efficiency in law, rather than a burdensome formalistic approach. The world has undergone one major industrial revolution, which saw significant advances in energy and mechanical production. All in all, the situation is ripe for leadership. We must step carefully around certain issues. Strong interests exist that need to be creatively dealt with.”

“I have no doubt that you will overcome whatever obstacles come our way.” Malacoda said.

Ghaelvord took a deep breath, “Can you feel it Malacoda? Can you feel the sheer freedom that exists without the Aldenduenum?”

“I feel the heat and the humidity of this dank forest. I smell the sweat and filth of the rabble militia that we cobbled together. I feel shackled by the need to disguise my appearance everywhere that I go. You said it yourself, Commander, this world is ripe for the taking. Let us pluck it.” Malacoda urged.

“In due time Malacoda, in due time. ‘Ponder and deliberate before you make a move,’ a wise man once said. Also, ‘let your methods be regulated by the infinite variety of circumstances.’ Malacoda, this world is ours for the taking. We will lay the foundations. We will build the framework. And when the day comes…” Ghaelvord took a moment to savor his words. “When the day comes for the Dahjaat to rise, we will meet them with an empire. Malacoda, when the Aempyreans wake, they will not stand a chance.” At that Ghaelvord laughed, “We will be ready for them.”

“I have no doubt, but I would still like to get out of this abysmal jungle.” Malacoda sighed.

“We will get out quite soon. Have you made progress with your contacts at the timber company?” Ghaelvord asked.

“Yes, the Guebuza administration has their hands in it. They own the Nacala Railway as well. With the right carrot on the right stick, they could take care of all our transportation needs.” Malacoda answered.

“Good. Very good. We will need their help soon. You are confident that our ships are safe in Nacala?” Ghaelvord asked.

“Safe and sound. They are in a deep, hidden bay port. The locals are all in our service. The entire hull of the panamax will be repainted by the end of the month.” Malacoda answered.

“Some of our pirate friends have turned out to be quite the useful connivers.” Ghaelvord remarked.

“Yes, Abdi has proved quite useful. He was instrumental in setting up the shell corporation that putatively owns the docks and the ships. He has a mind like a steel trap.” Malacoda said.

“Does it ever amaze you that certain minds simply cannot be broken?” Ghaelvord asked.

“Perhaps.” Was the answer.

“Speak of the devil.” Ghaelvord said.

Shenouda had sauntered into the room. She had become comfortable in her body. She enjoyed the newfound dexterity. Her hips swayed from side to side in a sultry motion and her shoulders dipped slightly as she walked while her head remained poised and cocked slightly upward. She wore a white toga with gold clasps. A flowing cape billowed out behind her. The newly minted craftswomen of the textile hall in Ghaelvord’s jungle compound had sewed it for her. The handmade quality gave her an earthy, natural look. She filled the room with a unique vibe of one-of-a-kind grace and elegance. She smiled at the two men.

“Am I interrupting?” She asked.

“Not at all. Far be it from me to fail to ignore a beautiful woman.” Ghaelvord oozed.

Malacoda wanted to roll his eyes, but the picture of elegance before him prevented it. Shenouda had taken to the nosferatu virus like a caterpillar to a cocoon. She had blossomed out of the operation into a vision of Venus, the god of longing, and desire.

“Excuse me. I will leave the two of you to your preoccupations.” With that, Malacoda left.

Shenouda sauntered up to Ghaelvord. She stood in front of him, lifted one knee and rested it on his leg, and caressed the side of his face with her fingertips.

“Scheming again?” She asked.

“Always.” He responded.

“What did you see in me on that day in the cave when I was dying?” She asked.

“I saw the same grace and elegance that I see now. I saw someone entitled to a better life. I also felt your willpower. I knew that I could never control you the way I control them, the yzorak. Take it all in, my dear. Take it all in and savor it. Live your life.”

They stared deep into each other’s eyes.

Ghaelvord said, as an afterthought. “Let us go. Let’s leave this place for a while. There is something that I would like to show you.”

He rose to his feet and kissed her deeply. Her body went limp at the touch.