Incubus RA Part 3: John Dies in the

Second Chapter: An erotic fantasy

harem slice of life serial! (Incubus R.A.)
1st Edition Virgil Knightley
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 Incubus R.A. Part 3:
John dies in the second chapter.

By Virgil Knightley
 Copyright © 2021 Virgil Knightley All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any
similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not
intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express
written permission of the publisher.
To my author buddies who keep me motivated.
 Table of Contents

Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Table of Contents

Content Warning!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2

Chapter 3
Chapter 4

Chapter 5
Chapter 6

Chapter 7
Chapter 8

Chapter 9
Chapter 10

Chapter 11
Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Want more?
 Content Warning!

The same general warnings that were relevant for the first two books
are still relevant here. If you didn’t like those books, why are you
reading book 3? Are you a glutton for punishment? If you did enjoy
those books, then welcome back!
 Chapter 1

I ‘d gone my whole life staying hunkered within the seven spired

walls of Horcross City, never once daring to venture into the
Badlands or take a portal into another plane. That wasn’t
uncommon for a resident of Horcross—in fact it was the norm. And
yet, in one week, I’d found myself outside the boundaries of the
fantastical metropolis not once but twice.
This time I was riding on the back of my draconic baby-momma,
on our way to the nest where she had laid her eggs. She was in full
gold dragon form as she flew me out to the location.
I hadn’t spent all that much time thinking about her in her
absence, and I felt a tinge of guilt for that, but now that she was
here, it seemed crazy that I could have ever put her out of my mind.
She was a creature of profound splendor and majesty. Even in her
dragon form, she was a thing of surreal beauty. I lived in a world of
magic and legends, and yet Missy was the most incredible thing I’d
ever known—and she was my lover and the mother of my future
children.
I truly lived a privileged existence. I reflected on my own good
fortune for a while as we soared over the arid, depressing landscape
of the Badlands. After an hour, maybe longer, though, my mind
bubbled over with questions and curiosities that simply had to be
entertained.
“Missy, babe, what have you been up to since leaving
Horcross?”
She answered me with a syrupy sweetness in her booming
deep dragon voice—a feminine cadence to her overpoweringly
monstrous tone. “Aside from laying my eggs and protecting them?
Very little, I’m afraid,” she said. “Our progeny will dominate my life for
the next century or so until they are able to survive on their own.”
“That’s a long time,” I grunted.
“Not long for the likes of us, my love,” she replied. I was holding
onto her neck. My dragoness’s powerful wings beat against the wind
as she effortlessly carried me toward our destination.
I considered her words. “I haven’t really gotten used to the idea
of being immortal,” I said.
“Not immortal, not yet, but long-lived at the very least. You will
not know age and sickness now that your powers have taken root.”
“What do you know of my powers?”
“I have known demons before—though never in the same
manner as I know you. There are many circles of hell, each of them
with its own demon lord. You are from the Sixth Circle, also known
as the Pits of Pleasure.”
“I guess I’m thankful I’m not from one of the other ones,” I
chuckled. “Sixth Circle sounds like the best deal.”
“The Domain of Indulgence is also a rather exciting place,” she
giggled, her voice deep and bestial. Wind rushed through my hair as
my eyes stayed trained on the back of her head in front of me. “And
the food is without peer or equal.”
“I’ll be sure to visit,” I said, laughing and stroking her neck. She
rumbled at my gesture of affection, vibrating beneath me.
“There,” she announced, nodding straight ahead. A high spiky
peak capped with snow sat at the edge of the horizon, growing larger
in my view with each passing moment. It was then that I realized just
how fast we were flying.
“There?” I repeated. “Is that where we’re headed?”
“Yes, Incubus Lord,” she said. “That is where I’ve laid my eggs.
Our eggs.”
 I squinted as though in doing so I might see the nest—but I
didn’t. Even as the mighty mountain grew nearer, it remained just a
mountain as far as I could tell.
“Are you from Horcross, then?” I asked her, my hands brushing
over her scaly neck. “I am just now realizing I know very little about
you.”
“You know me in the ways that matter most,” she bellowed with
a mischievous tilt to her tone.
“All the same, I’d like to hear more.”
She paused as though trying to find the words—what I needed
to know, parsing it from the tremendous density of her centuries-long
life story. “I am from another plane,” Missy said. “But I chose your
world to be the home of our eggs so that you would be within reach
and able to have a part in the rearing of our whelps.”
“I’m going to be such a bad dad,” I groaned.
“Why do you think this?”
I continued to stroke her neck as I answered. “It’s just that I
know nothing about what is considered normal for raising dragon
babies or, er, whelps. And I have a whole harem of other women I’m
responsible for, too. My time is already divided up in so many
different ways. Don’t get me wrong. I’ll try my best.”
“I understand your limitations,” she replied. Her tone was frank,
unbothered. “I am well aware of the circumstances. Just being
present in their lives will be wonderful. You can bring your other girls
when you visit for all I care, once they’re safely hatched and their
health is stable. Sometimes I will need to return home, but I would
like for the whelps to stay with you when I’m gone. Just keep them
safe and well-fed.”
“Babysitting,” I chuckled. “I remember you saying that dragon
eggs take fifty years to hatch, though. But now we’re in danger of
them hatching prematurely?”
 With that, we had come upon the cliff, landing on a ledge. I slid
off of her back and landed on my feet.
Before she answered my question, she changed shape. I
watched with eager, greedy eyes as she shrunk down to a far more
diminutive form, shedding scales, her body contorting as she
adjusted to her new physique.
Zilthraximissi the Dawnslayer was her full name, and even in
this more human form she looked worthy of it. Her body was a
testament to the divinity of dragons. Her heavy, teardrop-shaped
breasts were plump and capped with puffy suckable nipples that
were almost as pale as the rest of her body. Whereas her titflesh
bounced and jiggled with each movement, her abdomen was solid
and trim, her waist narrow and nubile. Like her breasts, her ass was
bubbly in the best possible way, though at the moment I was staring
at her bare nether regions from the front. Her wide hips framed the
slit of her womanhood in such a way that I had no choice but to lick
my lips upon seeing it.
Her golden hair and golden scales glimmered under the
Badlands sun. “You’re ogling me, Incubus Lord,” she smirked,
crossing her arms. This only mashed her breasts together in an even
more enticing posture—by design, I was sure of it.
“Think of the kids,” I scolded myself.
I focused on her more draconic features—her golden talons that
she had for hands and feet, her long, golden tail, and her enormous
outspread wings. Her harsh eyes were mostly black with a tiny
yellow reptilian slit in place of a pupil.
“We can have our fill of one another later,” she said, eyeing me
with those predatory orbs.
“Hell yeah,” I grunted softly. Then I cleared my throat, not
wanting to come off as too eager. “I mean, what do we need to do?”
“We need to move the eggs,” she replied. “Have you already
forgotten?”
 “No. But how do we move them?”
“They are small, and I could carry them myself, but I fear that
without your presence, they might not make the journey. They called
out to you. With you here, I believe they will survive.”
I followed her as she turned her back and kicked aside a
boulder as though it were a pebble. We marched down into a hidden
cave. “In here,” she said.
I conjured a red flame that I balanced in my palm. It made for a
nice light as we entered the interior of the mountain.
Looking around, there was nothing particularly special about
what I saw—just a hollowed-out cave that Missy had probably made
herself. At the center of the room, three eggs about the size of my
hand sat at the center of a fire that should have been filling the
cavern with smoke—but as I looked up, I saw rays of light shining
into the room from above. They were holes my dragon lover had
poked through the ceiling of the cavern, likely intended for
ventilation.
I held a hand up to my nose. It was still smoky for me—though I
realized that it didn’t seem to limit my ability to breathe functionally at
all. It didn’t sting my lungs to inhale it—probably my demon powers
at work.
“I see them,” I said. My tremulous voice betrayed my awe to the
golden goddess with me. Those were my babies in those eggs. I
thought I even saw one of them wiggling. “They’re beautiful.”
“They’re the product of our union,” she cooed, leaning close.
“Go on. Introduce yourself.”
I froze. This felt like a big moment. I stared at her anxiously,
hesitating, but she just smiled.
Taking a few steps forward, I grew closer to the eggs and their
flame. “Hello, uh, kids,” I said. “It’s your daddy. I’m John. I’m going to
take you home with me. Your mom and I are going to be taking care
of you together from now on—and you’ll have a lot of aunties, too.”
 “Aunties,” Missy giggled. “Amusing. I hadn’t thought of your
harem in such sweet, familial terms, but I suppose it fits. The
benefits of mating with someone from a humanoid culture, I
suppose.”
I grinned at her. “Now what?”
“Pick up the eggs,” she said. “You’re demon enough already; the
fire shouldn’t bother you.”
I wordlessly grasped forward, bending at the knee, and lifted up
each of the three eggs one by one. I felt them shake in my arms,
heard them gurgling. It was exhilarating.
I turned to Missy with the eggs in my arms and looked at her for
further instructions.
“You look strangely… adorable,” she uttered through a snigger.
“Fatherhood will suit you well.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said, unconvinced. I gazed down at the
eggs. “I really don’t want to fuck this up.”
“Don’t swear in front of the babies,” she growled, her eyes
suddenly slitted with irritation. Mine went wide.
“Oh! Sorry! I won’t do it again!”
“This is what I get for falling for a demon,” she bemoaned, rolling
her eyes, but she was trying and failing to hide a coquettish grin.
“Let’s go.”
The trip back felt even longer. I had the eggs cradled in a bundle
under one arm as the other stayed wrapped around Missy’s neck. I
could, of course, fly myself, but as it turned out, dragon babies were
sensitive to the bond between their parents. Missy insisted, as a
result, that it was probably for the best if we stayed in physical
contact with each other for the duration of our journey. That, and she
was a significantly faster flyer. We shaved hours off the trip by having
her handle the burden of travel.
I felt the eggs wriggling in my arms as we flew toward Horcross.
Each time one kicked or moved in any way, I held my breath and
sensed my heart race in reply. They seemed perfectly vivacious to
me.
“What exactly was the problem with the eggs?” I asked.
She sighed deeply. “It’s impossible to say. But my bond with
them is strong enough to know they aren’t well. All I know is that the
survival rate of compromised eggs is much higher when both parents
are involved.”
“Makes sense, I guess,” I said with a shrug she couldn’t see as
she kept her dragon head fixed toward the growing spires of
Horcross City in the distance. “It’s just that they seem pretty full of
life in my arms.”
“That’s good,” she replied, and her voice sounded relieved.
“They were unsettlingly still before you arrived.”
“Awww, they just wanted to see daddy,” I chuckled, rubbing one
of the eggs. The black one. “Still can’t believe I fucked a dragon and
knocked her up.”
“Language!” she shouted, shooting a fireball out of her snout in
punctuation.
“Sorry, sorry,” I said, scarcely managing not to chuckle. I fired a
jet of flame from my mouth to keep the eggs warm as the brisk wind
threatened to cool them to uncomfortably low temperatures
compared to what they’d been in when I found them.
But soon we arrived. Rather than go through the front door,
Missy deposited me at the window to my room. I slid it open and
crawled inside with eggs bundled around my chest.
Lili was there, dressed inappropriately but predictably in black
panties and a strapless black bra that pushed up her breasts to
tantalizing effect.
“Lili! Good!” I started. She rose to greet me, her mouth agape to
see me setting the eggs on the pillow. “Have you ever hatched a
dragon egg before?”
“Obviously not,” she answered, cocking an eyebrow.
 Missy shifted gradually into her human form and crawled
through the window. I extended my arms to her, catching her and
pulling her through.
“We need to warm the eggs,” she said, offering Lili only a faint
grunt to acknowledge her presence. “Can we burn this building?”
“That’s not going to be ideal, but I have a portable electric stove
for heating up soup,” I replied. I shrank slightly from my own
suggestion. It seemed crazy. “Would that work?”
I introduced the contraption to her, and the eggs fit atop it
perfectly, though they threatened to roll off. I had to improvise a
barrier around the plug-in appliance, placing it inside a blue crate
that had triangle-shaped openings in the sides where the cord could
thread out of and easily reach the outlet in the wall. Inside the crate,
the eggs sat upright.
“The energy bill is going to be sky-high, but this should be safe
and efficient.”
“The babies love it!” Missy said, watching as the eggs wiggled
happily. “But I’m afraid we are too late. The normal gestation period
for a dragon egg is decades long, but these could hatch within a few
months at most.”
My eyes went wide. “That sounds bad. Premature births are
bad, right?”
“They will be fragile for a long time,” she said. “And they will be
little more than beasts for a while. But if they survive, they still have a
chance to grow up to be powerful titans.”
“We’ll do everything we can.” I turned around and saw Lili
standing there half-naked. It looked less inappropriate now that
Missy was in her human form without any garments at all.
“Both of you, put on some clothes,” I said as I battled with a
boner. I stealthily employed the belt tuck technique to hide the
massive erection from my women. “If you’re hanging around here
and the campus, it’s a good idea to be dressed.”
 “I will be staying with you from now on, Incubus Lord,” Missy
said. “Now, who is this charming little demoness?”
I grinned. Finally, she noticed her. “This is Liliticia, my servitor
and one of the people I trust the most. Lili, meet Missy, my dragon
girlfriend.”
“Wife,” Missy said. “We are mated.”
“Fair enough,” I said, blushing. “Guess I’m married.”
“It’s an honor to meet you,” Lili replied, bowing low. “I’m not sure
I like the idea of putting on clothes, master, but I will obey.”
She reached over and grabbed two of my shirts. One was a
band t-shirt for the heavy metal group Dracolich. I was a huge fan of
theirs back in high school. Their whole deal was that the frontman
was supposedly a draconid lich, but it turned out he was just a
draconid with a bit of ghoul in the family tree and a knack for makeup
and costumes. The revelation didn’t bother me much—I was into
them for the music. Their album Acid Breath Apocalypse got me
through some really dark times.
The other shirt was actually a Myth U hoodie, magically
charmed to deal with my own wings—when I had them. She put the
t-shirt on and handed the hoodie to Missy, who accepted the article
of clothing with a skeptical eye. They both sniffed the shirts in unison
and let out almost identical contented sighs as my scent wafted into
their noses.
“That’s gross,” I groaned. “I wore those when I was working out.”
“You smell so fucking good, though,” Lili said.
“Your servitor is correct. But language, please. The babies.”
They donned their shirts and both looked adorable in them, but
their tails lifted up the backs of the clothing and left the girls’ asses
exposed.
“You still can’t walk around campus like that,” I muttered. “We’ll
need to get you some pants.”
 “Pants?” Lili asked as if she’d never heard of the word before. “It
feels… blasphemous. But okay, master. If that’s what you need.”
“I do. Would you borrow a pair of pants from Imara for now? Let
your tail poke out the top, just keep a belt on tight and let the t-shirt
hang down. There’s a Tees and Tails shop just a few blocks from
campus. Here’s my credit card.”
Her eyes lit up. “Okay, master. Can I take Imara with me?”
I shuddered. “The goal is specifically to buy pants for yourself
and Missy. Draconid pants should fit her.”
Lili looked at the dragoness carefully, drinking in her physique
with an analytical eye. “Got it. Leave it to me, master!”
With that, she leaned in, kissed me on the cheek, and left
through the door, leaving it open behind her.
Missy lingered. I turned to her. “So, just hang around here for
now, I guess,” I said. “In Horcross, a woman walking around with her
lower half exposed would cause quite a stir.”
“We don’t want that,” she nodded. “In fact, I hope I am hardly
noticed at all. I will remain here as much as possible, if that is alright
with you, though there are things I must attend to.”
“Of course,” I said, grabbing her talon. “You’ve been flying all
day. Should we take a rest?”
She let out a heavy sigh but grinned through a coy expression.
“Actually, I think we should focus on our bond.”
I felt my brow raise high as I went wide-eyed at the implications I
thought I’d sensed in her words and the sudden change of posture.
“The eggs are right here,” I pointed out in a whisper. I gestured to the
electric stove that was keeping them hot and cozy.
“They will do better if our bond is solidified,” she replied with a
shrug. “I’m afraid I must insist.” Missy shoved me down against the
bed with one talon as another grabbed hold of my shirt, ripping it
from my body like it was paper.
 Her eyes lit up at the sight of my bulky physique. “You have
grown stronger since last we mated.”
“I have been putting in the hours at the gym,” I said, lying back
on the bed with my arms behind my head. I made my pectoral
muscles do a little dance.
Missy cringed. “I’m not sure how I feel about what you’re doing
with your breasts.”
“Ahem!” I said. “The correct terminology is ‘manly chest
muscles.’” I kept the pectoral dance going. It had a satisfyingly
hypnotic effect on her.
“Despite how repulsed I feel by this braggadocious display, I
must admit that your body pleases me,” she growled, stripping off
the hoodie she’d only moments before put on.
Missy’s huge tail and wings knocked a bunch of shit off of the
bedside table as she positioned herself, kneeling astride me.
“Do me a favor and use that golden talon of yours to cut my
forearm, would you?” I said. She made a weird face at me but
obeyed, slicing a gash above my wrist. I slurped up the blood without
an explanation.
“I assume this is some Incubus Lord magic at play?” she said. I
felt her loins already growing hot against me, and she couldn’t help
but start gyrating. Her hips rocked as her groin rubbed lewdly against
mine. She bit her lip.
I didn’t bother answering the question. Instead, I grabbed her by
the horns and pulled her in for a kiss. Her forked tongue got all
tangled up in mine, and the slobber of her sweet lips lent our
passionate kiss an erotic flavor.
I grabbed hold of her wings where they jutted from her back and
pulled her tight against me. She was hot to the touch, like heated
iron, and it made the impending sex all the more alluring. I wasn’t
sure a normal man could handle it—but being a demon with
immunity to fire, we made a good match.
 She traced a claw roughly down my chest, leaving scratch
marks in her wake. She clumsily fumbled at my belt. I let her try, but
her dragon talons were far from dexterous with such things, and it
made for adorable viewing to see her bite her lip in frustration as she
failed to undo the clasp or work the zipper.
The joke was on me, though, when she ultimately lost her
patience. She parted her knees, taking a wider stance straddling me,
and lifted her butt up, holding me down with her talons by the
shoulders. She looked down at my crotch and breathed a white-hot
rose of fire directly onto my crotch, setting my pants aflame. From
there, she easily removed them, ripping them free from my body,
liberating my cock.
You could bet your ass I was already hard as mithril at that little
overreaction. There are few things hotter than a woman who stops at
nothing to get my dick.
I gripped my cock and angled it suggestively toward her
entrance, which now hovered over me temptingly. She didn’t seem
particularly interested in drawing out the foreplay, so she descended
onto my shaft with pinpoint accuracy, her wet magma-hot sex
swallowing up my cock and taking all of my enormity down to the
base.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned just as
greedily as any other girl I’d been with. Despite how regal, ancient,
and powerful she was, when impaled to the hilt with Incubus Lord
cock she moaned just as raunchily as the rest. My dick was the great
equalizer.
I made the first move, bucking upward with my hips. She ground
against me in response, spittle already dribbling from her lips—some
of it leftover from our kiss. As the saliva dripped onto my skin, it
sizzled and burned, evaporating instantly in a steamy vapor.
She rode me like a bucking bronco, her asscheeks and tail
slapping my thighs and legs as she bounced up and down. My eyes
were fixated on her impressive breasts, entranced by the fat tiflesh
as it swayed and jiggled a breath away from my face. I licked my
lips.
I relinquished my grip on one of her hips to clutch her tit and
guide it to my lips. I latched on, suckling like a manticore pup,
training my tongue to her teat.
She groaned and continued to grind even more furiously, her
greedy body rewarding my attention on her nipple with even more
passion. I nipped at her nub, and she squealed, causing a hot breath
of fire to wash over my face. It didn’t burn me, but I had to use my
other hand to beat some flames out of the pillow before that little
situation got out of control. My skin, now red hot, burned with
sensitivity. And it gave me an idea.
I released her tit from my mouth with a lewd smacking sound. I
pushed her backward so I could see her whole body, and for a
moment, she looked confused. Inhaling deeply, I went through the
incantation for the fire breath spell in my mind. With a powerful
exhalation, I covered her whole naked body in hellfire, paying extra
special attention to her breasts and groin.
She moaned, and her wanton hips pulsed against me even
harder. I could literally smell her need welling up. When the fire had
dissipated, she was left touching herself, rubbing her own clit and
nipples as she rode me, wild with rhapsodic pleasure.
“How did you know?” she asked breathily.
I grinned at her with adoration plain in my eyes. “I noticed when
you breathed fire on me that it didn’t hurt. It just made me more
sensitive. I thought it might work the same for you.”
“It’s a common practice for dragons that mate with one another,”
she said through a series of squeals and squeaks of bliss. “We are
soooo…” she bit her lip, searching for the word. Her eyes opened up
when she’d discovered it. “Compatible! We’re compatible!”
“That’s gotta be good for the babies, right?” I said.
 “Don’t talk about the babies now,” she replied, her face souring,
but her movements didn’t slow.
“Sorry,” I grunted. I bucked deep into her, meeting her thrusts
with my own. Soon the sound of our sex was echoing off the walls. I
could feel that we were both getting close—her especially. Her pace
was quickening even further, going wild and erratic. Her slick insides
were growing tighter, and my cock was coated with her pearly juices.
“I’m—” she couldn’t finish her thought. Her eyes rolled back in
her head, and I felt a wave of euphoric constrictions as her pussy
squeezed my cock as she broadcasted her climax with an onslaught
of desperate moans.
With that, I reached my own fulfillment, shooting load after load
of cum inside of her womb.
Her eyes went wide, and with half her breath, she looked down
at me in wonder. “Did you cum inside me?” she asked, still grinding
her hips.
I grunted. “Was I not supposed to?”
“I may still be fertile,” she said. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind.”
My eyes flashed wide open. “I think my Incubus powers cancel it
out. Pregnancy won’t happen unless I’m trying for it.”
She grunted her understanding and just kept bouncing,
squeezing every last drop of seed from my shaft that she could.
At the end of it all, we collapsed onto the scorched bedsheets in
a heap.
“Our babies will be very strong if the strength of our bond is any
indicator,” she said in between kisses. “You are a worthy lover.”
“Let’s hope that I’m a worthy father.”
She grinned. “Yes, indeed. I have few doubts.”
I looked up at the ceiling. How long had we been fucking? A few
minutes? A few hours? Time seemed so relative with her. I stole a
glance at the crate containing the eggs and the electric stove. The
eggs were all wiggling happily—which kind of creeped me out given
the circumstances, but it put me at ease, too.
Missy and I gazed into each other’s eyes for a good long while,
but eventually I had to get up and check on the other girls. She opted
to stay in the room and keep an eye on the eggs, which suited me
fine, though it stung a bit to be separated from her after such an
intense love-making session.
Imara was there in the kitchen—which surprised me.
“Imara,” I said. “Hey, babe.”
“Hi, honey!” she said back. “Lili and Tammy went shopping with
your credit card.”
This was of course not news to me, but I didn’t love the way it
was phrased. “I’m sure Lili will be able to keep the budget under
control.”
“Tamara has her daddy’s card, so I doubt you have anything to
worry about.”
“I kind of thought you’d go with Lili,” I said. “She asked for you
specifically.”
“I know,” she sighed. “But I have a study group in a bit. And then
I was hoping you and I could get dinner.”
My eyes lit up with skepticism and wonder. “You? Study group?”
“Of course! I want to graduate so we can work together and then
get married!”
“I don’t remember promising that last part.”
“But you’ll be so proud of me. It’ll be a given,” she said matter-
of-factly. Her halo and eyes both burned golden. “So, will you take
me out afterward?”
I thought of Missy and the kids. She knew the harem situation I
was in, the other obligations I had. And I’d just spent the whole day
with her. “Let me check something later, but sure. I think it should be
fine.”
 “Yay!” she said with a little jump. “It’s going to be such fun!”
I walked up to her and gave her a hug from behind as she
started prepping a snack. “I’m sure it’ll be a great time,” I said.
It was not, in fact, going to be a great time.
 Chapter 2

I checked in with Missy and the eggs and let her know that I’d be
going out with Imara for the evening after running a few errands,
but I carefully added that I’d be back as soon as I could be. I
wasn’t about to go far from my eggs—but if I could help it, I wouldn’t
risk making my girls feel neglected, either.
“Will you be out late?” she asked, looking rather bored as she
sat in my bed, staring at the eggs on the electric stove.
“No, I don’t think so.”
She nodded. “Good. I have some business to attend to. As long
as you return here tonight, the eggs should be fine.”
“What about you? Don’t they need their mother just as
urgently?” I asked.
“They’re too used to my presence. You’re a novelty. It’ll do them
some good to be tended to by you instead.”
“You’re the expert, I guess,” I chuckled as I leaned forward and
pecked her on the forehead. Her face didn’t react. She looked up at
me and squinted.
“You have an aura of darkness around you. It hangs over you
like a shroud.”
That didn’t sound ideal. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “A premonition. Maybe nothing. Don’t be gone
long. Stay close to our babies. And don’t get into any trouble.”
“I won’t,” I said. “I’m just getting dinner. I’ll keep an eye out for
trouble, but there’s basically no crime in this part of the city besides
underage drinking and other illegal substances.”
 “I trust you, of course. Few things in this city could kill you in a
fair fight. Still,” she said, hesitating. “It doesn’t hurt to be careful.
These auras can pass—it might mean that you are linked to a recent
death, or perhaps that someone is merely grievously upset with you.”
I thought of the Minotaur that Imara had killed. That had to be it.
“Ah,” I said, sighing. “Well, no worries then. I think it’s just the fact
that I participated in a little… murder. Indirectly.”
Missy looked bored by the admission. “That’s good, then,” she
said. “All the same, do conduct yourself prudently.”
She left before I did, as it turned out, taking off from the window
and transforming into her full gold dragon form in mid-air. It was quite
a spectacle to behold.
“That’s my girl,” I said. I turned and looked over at the eggs.
“And that’s your mommy.”
I walked up to them where they were sitting on the electric stove
as it was held in the crate that kept the eggs upright. One of the eggs
was spotted red and green on a white shell. Another was similarly
striped. The third was jet black. It seemed odd to me, but Missy
didn’t seem concerned by it, so neither was I.
“Hey little munchkins,” I said, cooing at the eggs, stroking them
a few times. I felt the dragonlings inside wiggling and gurgling in
response.
I talked to them for a bit, telling them a little about myself—what
I was, who I was to them, how clueless I was about how to be a dad
to dragons. But I couldn’t help but feel excited, all the same.
After a while, I felt my eyelids growing heavy, and I ultimately fell
asleep at the desk, my hand resting on the crate that cradled the
eggs. It wasn’t until hours later that I was awakened by a knock at
the door.
“Mr. Cutter, it’s your favorite girl.” That was Imara’s voice on the
other side of the door, as deadly sweet as ever, dripping with just a
bit of unhinged energy that made her somehow sound even sexier
than she already was.
I stood up, crossed over to the door and opened it up. She was
there, alright, dressed in a silky white summer dress and matching
white heels that brought her up to my nose. A golden waistband was
tied tight around her midsection, emphasizing just how narrow-
waisted she was—all the while, her respectable angelic titties were
half-exposed by the plunging neckline of the dress. I sighed
contentedly at the generous valley of cleavage before staring into
her nightmarishly gorgeous golden eyes.
“What have you been doing in here since I left for my study
group?”
“Watching my eggs. What was the class, again?”
“Goblinoid Anatomy,” she said, though her voice sounded oddly
disappointed. “I thought goblin girls had sideways vaginas, but
apparently they don’t.”
“You could’ve just asked Tayak about that,” I chuckled.
“Oh, sure, what a great conversation starter. ‘Hey, Tayak,
sweety, how’s that horizontal pussy doing?’” she said, giggling as
she rolled her eyes.
I couldn’t help myself but to laugh at that. “Come on in,” I said,
pulling her into my room by the waist.
“I thought we were going out,” she replied, though from the
ascending tone in her voice, she didn’t sound disappointed. The
gorgeous Half-Angel was already eyeing the bed.
“I want to show you my eggs,” I said.
“Your… eggs? Missy’s eggs? They’re here?!”
“Did you not hear me, like, one minute ago?”
“I thought it was a euphemism!” she squealed. “Oh my gods,
John! Your motherfucking eggs!” She found them right away, rushing
over to the desk and looking into the crate. “They’re so precious!”
She let out the girliest squeal I’d ever heard from a woman of twenty-
one years.
“We’re trying not to swear in front of them,” I said, feeling kind of
silly for admitting it, but Imara just nodded.
“Motherfreaking eggs,” she whispered softly. Then she groaned
jealously. “When will you make me a momma?”
The sudden question threw me entirely off my game. “W-what? I
—”
She turned around and leaned back against the desk. One of
the thin shoulder straps on her gorgeous, pristine dress fell off to the
side as she flashed me a lascivious look that could only mean one
thing. “I want one. I want ten. Knock me up, John, please?”
“Absolutely not,” I said, throwing a hand out in front of me to act
as a living representation of a Stop sign. She frowned. “I mean, not
today. Give it some time. Do you really want our kids to have to
compete with the dragon whelps for my attention?”
She frowned. “But I’m your favorite. I love you the best. It’s only
fair—”
“Don’t call yourself the favorite,” I said, feeling a bit of heat on
my brow from the conversation, which was ironic for someone who
shrugged off fire a few minutes ago.
She crossed her arms and pouted. “But I love you, John. And
you love me. I know you do. Don’t deny it.”
“One day, we’ll try,” I said. “I promise. But how would it even
work?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, calming down at the sound of
my promise.
“I mean, you’re part angel, I’m part demon. What would our kids
be like?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said breathily, clasping her palms
together, her face all lovey-dovey. She stepped forward and took
both of my hands in hers, never breaking her forceful eye contact
with me, never blinking once. “As long as I’m yours, our children
could be purebred hellspawn for all I care.”
I stood there in silence, smiling meekly back at her. “You’re
pretty intense, you know,” I said.
She giggled. “Intensely into you.”
“Yeah, that,” I agreed. “Should we get going?”
It was at this point that we made our way downtown for a bite to
eat at an establishment serving only conjured food prepared by
wizards. Usually, conjured food was unfilling and bland compared to
what one could get from a more traditional restaurant, but this place
was supposedly a cut above what most wizards could manage.
“It’s honestly not bad,” Imara said, holding a morsel of
summoned mutton in front of her. “I’ve been wanting to try this for a
while. But, John, can we afford it?”
“Are you kidding?” I said, cocking one eyebrow at her, “We’re
loaded after my trip to the Badlands dungeon. We’ve got cash to
spare.”
She grinned her pearly whites at me. “Then spoil me tonight.”
“I spoil you all the fucking time.”
“Because you love me,” she gushed.
“You’re fucking right I do,” I winked. I gestured for the waitress to
come over—a cute little copper kobold dressed in a starry wizard’s
cap and stereotypical matching robes. She had a sleek black wand
capped with red in her hand, and there was something golden
dangling from its base, too. Some kind of token or sign, perhaps.
“May I help you, sir?”
“Conjure us up your finest attempt at High Elven bubbly wine—
bloodberry flavored.”
“I love bloodberries!”
“I know you do,” I said. “That’s why I’m ordering it.”
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
"We have reason to believe, Doctor, that this man is wanted by the
Interstellar Police. We have received a communication from I.P.
headquarters warning us that Dr. Allen H. Dale is actually a man
named Leland Hale."
"Who is Leland Hale?"
"A criminal, Doctor. He is wanted so badly that the I.P. is actually
sending a contingent of men here to apprehend him," said the
lieutenant-marshal.
"A criminal, yes—but what kind of a criminal?"
"I gather," said the lieutenant-marshal drily, "that he steals things. I
imagine he's after the Dachboden original."
"That's ridiculous! He couldn't possibly get into the Museum! It's
surrounded by—" His voice choked off as he realized that he, himself,
had already extended an invitation to "Dr. Dale" to come to the
Museum. "But—but—I spoke to Dr. Dale for over an hour! He can't be
a thief."
"Possibly not," agreed Lieutenant-Marshal Dilon. "The Interstellar
Police aren't always right, and I must say I don't care for their high-
handed manner at times. Nevertheless, we'll have to take proper
precautions. I'll see that the guard around the Museum is reinforced,
and send out a pickup order on Dr. Dale. If there's been any mistake
made, it will be the fault of the I.P. Meanwhile, I would appreciate it
Doctor, if you would come to my office. We've got to make better
arrangements for the protection of the time capsule."

And thus the call went out for Dr. Allen H. Dale.
He wasn't found, of course. By the time the police got to the hotel, he
had "mysteriously" vanished. By the simple expedient of shaving off
his beard and removing the gray from his hair had changed his
appearance enough so that a mere change of clothing was all that
was needed to completely dispose of Dr. Allen H. Dale. Leland Hale
was never one to be caught napping; he was never one to be caught
at all.
Naturally, a planet-wide alarm went out. Even Sudapfahl, warned that
the "arch-criminal" might attempt to steal the contents of their own
time capsule, sent out word to all local police forces to be on the alert.
Two days later, a fast, fully-armed Interstellar Police cruiser settled to
the landing pit of the spaceport in Grosstat, Nordapfahl, and
disgorged a squad of eighty I.P. troopers under the command of
Captain Bradney W. Whitter, a tough, shrewd law officer with twenty
years of experience behind him.
Whitter had been up against Leland Hale before; he still carried a
white, puckered scar on one leg, a reminder of Leland Hale's ability to
use a megadyne handgun. If Leland Hale was actually on Apfahl,
Captain Whitter intended to get him.

In the office of Dr. Mier, the captain called a conference. Present were
himself, Dr. Mier, Lieutenant-Marshal Dilon, and several others, high
officers of the I.P., the museum staff, and the Nordapfahlian State
Police.
"Gentlemen," Captain Whitter said determinedly, "we are going to get
Leland Hale this time. We've got him."
Lieutenant-Marshal Dilon lifted a heavy eyebrow. "I'm afraid I don't
quite see how, Captain." He made an all-inclusive gesture toward the
window. "He has a whole planet to hide from us in. A great part of it is
still wilderness, jungle, desert, and arid mountains."
The captain's granite face turned toward Dilon. "My dear Marshal, it is
obvious that you don't know Leland Hale. He is not the type of man to
hide out in the hills forever. I doubt that he even took off for the
hinterlands; I wouldn't be surprised if he were right here in Grosstat."
The marshal shrugged heavy shoulders. "I'll admit it's possible. This
is a city of three-quarters of a million people. He might be difficult to
find."
"The galaxy is a damned sight bigger than that," Whitter pointed out.
"Hale could have hidden out long ago if that were the way he
operated. But he doesn't. He hits and runs and then comes back to
hit again. A louse he may be, but I never underestimate an opponent;
he's smart and he's got guts. And he's got pride. And that's what will
catch him."
"I'm afraid I don't understand you," said Dr. Mier.
Whitter glanced down at the director. "Your time capsule seems to
have aroused quite a bit of interest in certain parts of the galaxy, Dr.
Mier. That Dachboden carving, especially, has made news on the
older worlds—even on Earth, I understand. And now that it is known
that Leland Hale has practically announced that he wants that
Dachboden, the news services will be watching to see if he gets it."
He grinned sourly. "And believe me, Leland Hale won't turn down a
challenge like that."
Marshal Dilon looked more than mildly skeptical. "Do you mean that
you think he will attempt it in spite of the precautions we have taken?"
"I do." He looked at the quiet group around him. "We'll have to lay a
trap—one that will get Leland Hale when he tries to steal that statue.
And he'll try, believe me. I know Leland Hale."
The captain was right, as far as he went. Pity he didn't know Leland
Hale a little better.

Leland Hale, smooth-shaven and black-haired, leaned back in a

comfortable chair and blew a large smoke ring into the air. He
watched it swirl in on itself and slowly dissolve into nothingness.
"Your Excellency," he said, "I must admit that your southern tobacco
has more flavor than the milder northern type. This is an excellent
cigar."
Hinrik Fonshliezen glared down his long, pointed nose at the big man
in the overstuffed chair. "I'm glad you enjoy them, Mr. Hale," he said
bitterly. "You may not get them in prison."
Hale glanced up mildly. "Prison? Oh, but I never go to prisons—at
least, not for long. I'm allergic to them. They give me a pain—here."
He patted his hip pocket.
"If I don't get that statue in time for the opening of our time capsule,"
said the State Portfolio coldly, "I will at least collect the not
inconsiderable reward for your capture."
Leland Hale stood up leisurely and stepped toward the other man. He
pointed a finger at Hinrik's face, stopping with the fingertip a scant
eighth of an inch from the other's nose.
"Now, listen," he said softly, "I don't care for threats of that kind. Not
that they bother me; they don't. But they make me suspicious of my
confederates, and that makes me uncomfortable, and I don't like to
be uncomfortable. Is that clear?"
Hinrik Fonshliezen backed up a step to remove his nose from the
vicinity of the finger. "Don't try to bully me, Hale," he said. But there
was a slight waver in his voice.
"Fair enough. I don't bully you, you don't bully me.
"And don't call me your confederate," added Fonshliezen, somewhat
encouraged by Hale's manner.
"I'm damned if I'll call you a comrade-in-arms," said Hale. "Would
'assistant' suit you better?"
Fonshliezen reddened. "One of these days you'll push me too far,
Hale!"
"When I do, you'll fall," said Hale, in a voice like chilled steel. "You
and I have made a deal. I get that Dachboden for you, and you pay
me half a million stellors. That's all there is to it."
The Portfolio of State was not a man to be pushed around easily, but
he also had sense enough to know when he was up against a
stronger opponent than himself.
Shortly after the original announcement about the time capsule had
come from Grosstat, Leland Hale had come to Fonshliezen to offer
his services. If Hale stole the Dachboden original, and gave it to
Hinrik Fonshliezen, then Sudapfahl could steal the glory from its
northern neighbor by claiming that a second capsule had been found.
When the northern capsule was discovered to have no statue in it,
the pride of Nordapfahl would suffer a serious blow.
But now Fonshliezen was worried.
"But how can you get it now?" he asked. "The planet is full of
Interstellar Police agents; the time capsule is tightly guarded. If only
the secret of Dr. Dale's identity hadn't leaked out!"
Hale chuckled and settled himself back into the chair.
"Hinrik, old toad, do you know how the I.P. learned about the bogus
Dr. Dale?"
The Portfolio had stepped over to a highboy to mix himself a stiff
drink. "No," he said, glancing at Hale. "Do you?"
"I do. They got an anonymous message. Of course, they traced it;
they know that it was actually sent by an acquaintance of mine on
Vandemar, a chap who might have good reason to inform on me."
"How do you know all this?"
Hale blew another smoke ring. "Because I had him send it."
"What? Why?"
Hale shook his head slowly. "You just aren't very bright, Hinrik. Not
bright at all. See here; what would have happened if my name had
never come into this at all?"
"I should think—"
"I agree. You should. But you don't." Hale dropped the remains of the
cigar in an ashtray. "Just suppose that no one knew I was here on
Apfahl. On the day the time capsule is due to open, the
Nordapfahlians find no original Dachboden in it. The next day, you
open a capsule that no one has ever heard of before, and you find a
Dachboden. Wouldn't that look rather suspicious? It certainly would."
Fonshliezen considered that point, then asked: "And how do you
propose to do it?"
"It's all set up, Hinrik. Now they know that I am here. They know that I
will try to steal the carving. If I succeed, why should they suspect
you? You will demand a troop of I.P. men to guard your own capsule,
too. You will issue a statement saying that all national differences
must be submerged in order to capture Leland Hale. And, in the end,
you will have the carving, and Nordapfahl will not—which will prove
that Sudapfahlians are better guards than the northerners."
Hinrik Fonshliezen nodded slowly, and a faint smile crossed his
pointed face. "I see. Yes—I see. Very clever, Mr. Hale, very clever."
Then the smile vanished again. "But I don't see how you're going to
get at the capsule with that guard around it."
"I managed to plant that capsule of mine under your capitol building
without being detected by the local citizens. Don't worry, I'll manage."
Hinrik snorted. "There was no guard around the capitol when you
planted your bogus time capsule; there most definitely is a guard
around the one in Grosstat."
"Let me worry about that," said Hale. "All you have to do is have that
half million ready. And remember, I can always sell the Dachboden
elsewhere. I won't get as much, I grant you, but I'll still make a tidy
profit."
Hinrik Fonshliezen grimaced. "Suppose—just suppose—that you
don't get the carving. Where will that leave me?"
Hale shrugged. "No better off, and no worse. You'll simply have a
time capsule of no importance. After all, you haven't claimed that
there actually is a Dachboden in it, while Dr. Mier has definitely made
the claim that there is one in his capsule."
"Such a thing would not make me popular with the people of
Sudapfahl, however," Fonshliezen pointed out. "And that is what this
whole thing is supposed to do."
"It wouldn't make you unpopular, either," Hale said. "And neither
would it cost you five hundred thousand stellors. You'd come out
even." Hale stretched elaborately. "But you don't need to worry; you'll
get your statue."
"When?"
"On the day the capsule is due to open. Not a minute before.
Meanwhile, I shall make myself comfortable here in your home,
where the I.P. won't look for me, and I'll go on making myself
comfortable until I'm ready to pull off my little job. Mix me a drink,
Hinrik; there's a good fellow."

The Museum of Cultural History in Grosstat, Nordapfahl, positively

bristled with arms and men. Its stone walls looked like those of a
fortress instead of a museum.
Captain Whitter had taken every precaution. No guard over six feet in
height was allowed within a block of the building; Hale couldn't
disguise his height. Inside the building, technicians with sensitive
equipment hovered over dials and meters.
"It's possible that he may try to tunnel under the building," the captain
explained. "It wouldn't be too difficult with modern equipment. But if
he tries it, we'll have him."
Around the capsule itself stood an honor guard of a dozen picked I.P.
men; around them stood a second ring of Lieutenant-Marshal Dilon's
men. All through the building, lights blazed brightly as the guard kept
on a round-the-clock watch.
Precision detectors scanned the skies for any sign of flying craft after
a State Police order grounded all aircraft within five miles of the
Museum. Special illumination projectors were set up all over the area
to pick out anyone wearing an invisibility suit, although the I.P. didn't
mention anything about that, since at that time the invisibility suit was
supposed to be an official I.P. secret. Nevertheless, Captain Whitter
didn't bypass the possibility that Leland Hale might have laid his
hands on one of them.
Captain Whitter surveyed his work and found it good.
"We're ready for him," he said. "All we have to do is wait for him to
come."
They waited.
And waited.
Eventually, the spaceship Quinsen, out of Denebola arrived and
several genuine staff members of the Interstellar Museum
disembarked, followed by reporters of a score of news services. They
were carefully checked and kept well beyond the outer perimeter of
the guard.
And the guard went on waiting.
Came the eve of the day of the Grand Opening, the day when the
radio-decay clock would release the lock on the time capsule.
Captain Whitter was in a nervous sweat by this time, as were the
others.
"He'll have to try it tonight," the captain stated positively. "We'll double
the guard and sweat him out."
But only the guard did any sweating. The night passed peacefully, if
somewhat tensely, and the sun rose on the most jittery bunch of men
this side of the Lesser Magellanic Cloud.
And still nothing happened.
When the hour came for the lock to open, the representatives of the
Galactic Museum demanded to be let in, but Captain Whitter was as
adamant as cast tungsten. No one would be allowed near the capsule
until Leland Hale had been captured.
At the final hour, the guards stood nervously around the big metallic
cylinder. Within the ring of armed men, Captain Whitter, Lieutenant-
Marshal Dilon, and Dr. Rudolf Mier stood, looking at the capsule and
waiting.
Something inside the time capsule clicked softly. A door in its side slid
neatly open.
Dr. Mier gasped and ran forward. "It's empty! It's empty!"
Whitter and Dilon were practically on his heels.
A look inside showed that the Director was not quite correct: the
capsule wasn't absolutely empty. Inside there was a single sheet of
paper; printed on one side was the following message:
Gentlemen:
I'm sure that the late R. Philipp Dachboden appreciates
the trouble you have gone to. If it wasn't successful,
don't blame yourselves; you tried.
As for the statue and various other objets d'art, I'm
afraid they are now
 Respectfully mine,
Leland Hale.

A short time previous to the flamboyant opening of the capsule in

Grosstat, and several hundred miles away, His Excellency, Hinrik
Fonshliezen, State Portfolio of Sudapfahl, sat nervously in his office.
If the I.P. men were sweating, Fonshliezen was absolutely soaked in
his own juices. He sat at his desk, looking from his watch to the
telephone and back again. He was expecting a call.
Even so, when the phone rang, he jumped. Then he grabbed the
instrument. "Hello! Fonshliezen here!" he barked hoarsely.
"Hinrik, old spirillum, I have your merchandise. You know where to
meet me. And—ah—remember what I told you."
"You got it? Where have you been? You've been gone for two days!
What—"
"That's none of your business, Hinrik; just come on. And remember—
none of your clever foxiness."
"I'll remember," Hinrik said.
There was a click as the instrument was hung up.
Hinrik Fonshliezen frowned worriedly and glanced at the briefcase on
his desk that held half a million stellors in Interstellar Bank drafts.
How could he be sure that Hale actually had the carving? He glanced
at his watch again. The news should come through soon. Hale had
told him to wait for the news from Nordapfahl.
He was well prepared for any tricks on Hale's part. He had put a
special lock on the briefcase; if Hale just tried to take the money, it
would be too bad for Hale.
On the other hand, Hinrik Fonshliezen was well aware that he,
himself had better not try anything foolish. If Hale were killed or
reported to the police—in other words, if he didn't make a clean
getaway—certain audio-video recordings would go to the I.P.,
disclosing Hinrik's complicity in the deal.
The whole thing had to be on the up-and-up.
The phone rang again. His Excellency picked it up and identified
himself. He listened. A broad, wolfish smile spread itself over his
face.
"So Hale actually did it?" he said. "Well, that's too bad, my dear
fellow. Of course, we must take the utmost precautions ourselves."
He hung up, and, whistling softly to himself, he picked up the
briefcase and left his office.

For all of half a day, there was great rejoicing in Sudapfahl when it
was discovered that the time capsule in Grunfelt had opened and had
disclosed a marvelous collection of two-century-old artifacts, including
a Dachboden original. His Excellency, the Portfolio of State, was the
man of the day.
But it didn't last more than half a day. When the art experts
pronounced the Dachboden a phony, the popularity of Hinrik dropped;
when it was proved that the whole time capsule, with contents, was
actually the one that belonged in Grosstat, Hinrik's popularity
collapsed completely. He was held by the I.P. for questioning and
confessed all.
By that time, Leland Hale was a good many parsecs away in his own
private ship.
An excerpt from the report filed by Captain Whitter contains some
enlightening information.
"What happened became obvious after the fact," the captain wrote.
"The whole buildup was a phony from beginning to end. Hale had
heard of the time capsule in Grosstat, so he went to Apfahl with a
duplicate time capsule, which contained his note. He tunneled
underneath the Museum and switched capsules. It was not until after
he had made the switch that he planted the forged Dachboden note
for Dr. Mier to find.
"There never had been a Dachboden carving in the capsule; that was
all a figment of Leland Hale's imagination.
"Dr. Rudolf Mier couldn't understand why Hale had done it. 'Why did
he make me think there was a statue in there?' he kept asking me.
'Why did he do this to me?'
"I think the answer is simple. The records show that Hale was on
Kessin IV three years ago, during the war there. I believe that he
actually was swindled himself; someone sold him a bogus
Dachboden. Remember, the art-swindler Fenslaw was killed at that
time.
"Hale, therefore, had a phony Dachboden on his hands that he had to
unload to save his pride. More, he had to make a very big profit on it.
"He knew that he couldn't just try to sell it anywhere. Even if he found
a sucker who would accept it as real, there wouldn't be enough
money in it to make it worth Hale's time.
"He couldn't have sold it to Fonshliezen without the big buildup. If
he'd just produced the carving from nowhere, Fonshliezen would
have been suspicious. A few simple tests would have shown that the
dynak wood was less than ten years old.
"Obviously, Hale had to get Fonshliezen into a position where he
would accept the carving without testing it.
"Hale, therefore, planted an empty time capsule, with his note inside,
under the Museum and took the real capsule with him. By
bombarding the time lock with neutrons, he managed to increase the
radioactivity enough to keep the lock closed for an additional twenty-
four hours, so that he could palm the real capsule off on Fonshliezen
as a phony which he had presumably set himself.
"Then he arranged for Dr. Mier to discover the forged note which
Dachboden presumably wrote two centuries ago. He had no reason
to suspect a forgery, since there was no obvious way for anyone to
profit by such a thing.
"What followed from then on was as automatic as the clockwork in
the time capsules."
If the Captain was a little bitter, he had a right to be; he'd been made
a fool of, just like the others. But he was luckier or hardier than they.
He didn't blow his brain to bits with a handgun, as Fonshliezen did; he
didn't die, broken and disgraced, as Mier did.
On the other hand, he didn't get off scot-free with a half million
stellors to spend, as Leland Hale did.
 *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK
RESPECTFULLY MINE ***

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