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WARNING ! All of my piece of writing is intended for grownup over the age of 18 ONLY. tarradiddle may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and consequence depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. action at law, office, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between phantasy and realness or if you reside in any state, province, country, or tribal district that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, delight stop over reading immediately and proceed to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this tale is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of right of first publication and financial statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is right of first publication ( c ) 2012 by The Technician ( Technician666 @ Gmail.Com. )

individual readers may archive and/or print single transcript of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, phonograph recording, or former desexualise formatting is expressly forbidden.

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It was non-white and cold and rainy and lonely as I drove north on a piffling used two lane highway that wound its twisted way through the timbered foothills. The reason I was in my car driving 90 miles in the eye of an October dark was because a man whom I had never met, Doctor Nathaniel L. Sorensen, had summoned me to his death bed.

That may go like an odd way of putting it, but it is exactly what his grandson, Earl, told me when he called me just before ten o'clock tonight. `` W, '' he began, `` I have a very unusual favor to ask of you. My grandfather has asked me to call you. He says to recite you that he is dying tonight and he is summoning you to his death bed because you are the only when one who can understand the floor he has to order. Is there any way you can come up up here ? ``

Earl was a rather famed astronomer and professor. Like his granddaddy, he spent his nights staring at the firmament - well, actually, in Earl 's case, he was usually looking at Monitor that gave him a numeric or visual delegacy of what his colossus array of receiving set scope were seeing as they gathered data from the skies. His grandfather, affectionately known by his peers as `` Night Sky Nate, '' had actually spent many, many nights staring through the eyepiece of elephantine telescopes located on aloof mountaintops all over the world.

What the elderberry bush Dr. Sorensen had to tell me, and why he thought I was the only one who would infer, was a complete mystery to me. I had never met the man. I had never spoken with him. I had never communicated with him in any way in my entire life. I knew of him only as Earl 's grandfather.

Earl and I had become friends when we met on-line in an electronics discussion forum. We were both interested in distant electronic control circuit. He was, of course, interested in undecomposed ways to control his telescopes. I was interested in undecomposed fashion to control ... shall we say, more interesting aspect of human demeanour. One of my sideline is various electronic device that stimulate the eubstance for the purpose of hurting, pleasure, or control.

One academic term, Earl asked me outright what I actually did with some of the command circuits we discussed. I told him, `` You would be shocked ... pun intended. ``

He answered, `` You would be surprised what it takes to shock me. '' And then added `` ... pun understood. ``

He then asked me to adjoin him in a private chat way and gave me a liaison to a elbow room on a different web site - a site that I knew well. The chat room location was on a very private BDSM website that catered to the tastes of those who liked mechanical overtones to their thraldom and discipline

In answer to my un-asked query, he typed, `` I spend my life looking for patterns in the sky. I recognized the figure of your posts - what abbreviations you use and do n't use, things like that. The same pattern shows up on several land site under several unlike login names. ``

I made a genial distinction to myself to look into ways of masking that failing in the future, and met him on the new land site. It turned out we had more in uncouth that just an interest in control circuits. Earl became one of my very circumspect customers. He was also a big fan, and sometimes helpful editor program, of many of my stories. Evidently he must induce said something about me to his grandfather, because now the dying doctor was summoning me to his death bed to get word, and perhaps indite his story.

What a super-intelligent, apparently prim uranologist who spent about of his life sentence staring at the stars might have to say that I had n't heard many fourth dimension before was a mystery story to me, but deep in my gut I had a smell that this closed book was well Charles Frederick Worth exploring.

When I got to the hospice building side by side to the hospital, Earl met me at the doorway. He said flatly, `` Nate says he is going to die tonight. '' Then he shrugged and added, as if in explanation, `` It 's his natal day. The doctors do n't think so, but his Father of the Church predicted his own destruction, and so he thinks that he knows when he is going to die also. He says tonight is the night. ``

Since I was entering a hospice area, I was expecting to find a very imperfect and decrepit old man, but when I stepped into to the room, Dr. Sorensen was sitting up in his bed reading an old field journal. `` Come in W, '' he greeted me. `` You are probably wondering why you are here. ``

'' That is more than an understatement, '' I replied.

He motioned me to a chair that had been placed at his bedside, closed the notebook, and folded his hands over the cover as it lay on his lap. `` Let 's Begin at the beginning, shall we. ''

He looked and sounded just like a college professor about to start a lecture. I should n't have been surprised at that. He had, at one fourth dimension, been a very striking professor as well as a notable astronomer.

'' Actually, let 's bulge out before the first, '' he corrected himself. `` My father was born on April 20, 1909. In case the import of that appointment escapes you, that was the day that Haley 's Comet passed closelipped to the earthly concern. He died on February 9, 1986, again as William John Clifton Haley Jr. passed tightlipped to the dry land. He always said that he was going to follow Mark Twain 's lesson and 'come in with the comet and go out with the comet .'He did. ``

I must have looked somewhat disordered, because he looked up at me and added, `` It 's all part of the story. Be patient role. I 'm getting to it ... I 'm getting to it. ``

He smiled, took a rich breath, and started anew. `` I was born on October 21, 1930. The significance of that date, of which I am indisputable you are unaware, is that ... ''

I interrupted him and finished his time with `` it is the peak of the Orionid meteor rain shower. ``

It was his turn to look surprised. `` A student of the star topology, are we ? ``

'' No, '' I answered, `` but Earl is never available from October 19 through 23 because grub of old comet are falling out of the sky. ``

'' All comets are old, '' instructed the right Dr., `` they are the left-over debris from creation. And the chucks do n't fall out of the sky, the Earth merely passes through the comet 's lead of debris. The detail comet that causes the Orionids is none early than my male parent 's old friend, Bill Haley, itself. '' He laughed as he added, `` That means that I am a chip shot off my father 's comet. ``

His laugh soon dissolved into a coughing fit. When it subsided he continued, `` I came in with the silicon chip and I am planning to go out with the chips. The genus Cancer doctors say I have another few weeks or even months, but tonight is as good a night to die as any other, and I might as well keep up the family tradition - - - but first I have to say you my narrative. ``

He paused. But this sentence he did n't jest ..., and he did n't cough. Instead he went very quiet with his oculus taking on a very, very far away look. I had seen that look before - usually in combat veterans. Psychiatrists call it `` the thou mile stare. '' Whatever store was flashing through his mind was very right and highly traumatic. It was very quite in that elbow room as we all waited for him to infract the silence.

After a few import, he sighed, took a thick breathing place, and continued, `` I need to recount you some things about the arrows from Orion 's bow that I have never written down for anyone except myself ... '' He held up the notebook computer. `` ... and I have never shown anyone this force field diary - not even Earl. No one would have believed me, and if I had ever published any of this, I would birth been laughed out of academe. ``

'' Earl has shown me some of the things that you write. '' He looked at me over the top of his glasses. His optic were now a very promising blue. `` I think you will understand ... and I am sure as shooting that you can assure my history to the world. I no longer care what my cuss professor think of me. They can put it down to death-bed lunacy ... .. but it is the true statement ... .. the absolute, hellish, source-of-myth-and-mysteries Sojourner Truth. ``

He paused to open up the subject area daybook that was again resting beneath his manpower. `` W, I want you to have this when we are through here. Everything is written down in it ... even the original Gaelic. Maybe you can pass on it on to individual who might be around in 2025, or even 2063. ``

He again looked at me over the top of his glassful and raised his eyebrows as if to ask if I was ready. I nodded and he began, `` On my nineteenth natal day, October 21, 1949, I was stationed overseas with the USN as - what else - a weather forecaster. My interest was astronomy, not meteorology, but the Navy had plenty navigators and as the recruiter told me, 'Stars do n't affect ships at sea, storms do .'They wanted storm security guard, not lead gazers and my tour of duty choices boiled down to being a weatherman or a ship 's cook. ``

He gave me a very wry grinning. `` I have always been a terrible James Cook, but I can read a thermometer with the in force of them. A incumbrance in the Navy would pay for college, and besides, it was right after the war and the swig was still in place. They had n't drafted anybody since '47, but I figured it was better to eat Navy Zhou for a few years than risk being drafted into an foot team if things heated up with the Russians or someone else. ``

'' In any face, everything worked out pretty well. I ended up with a cushy station on a hillside in Ireland near Birr rook. The Earl 's great observatory had been dismantled during 'The Great War ,'but it was still a seat rich in story for individual like me who was interested in the asterisk. ``

He looked down a bit sheepishly. `` I 've never told Earl where his name came from. I wanted him to be named after the man who designed and built the great birr Castle telescope and first saw proof of spiral galaxies. But I could n't remember the proper public figure of the third Earl of Rosse. So, when my girl was considering what to key her offset son, I suggested 'Earl .'''

He looked up at the roof as though he was watching the distant galax in his judgment. Then he shook his question as if to pass his thought process and convey himself back to the present. `` Anyway, there I was smack dab in the eye of the Emerald islet with not a altogether lot to do except charter temperature and barometric reading material a couple of times a day - and there were four of us stationed there to do that. I made a lot of curt day trips around Demesne to shoot down time and learn more about the Celts. ``

'' In a little, local museum in a nearby town, I came upon some Gaelic manuscripts that the proprietor said talked about the Orionid meteoroid showers, or as the Kelt called them, 'The Arrows of Orion .'I took it into my head to translate those documents and spent near of a month 's pay to buy high caliber written matter of the originals. ``

'' Gaelic is a beastly language with too many letter of the alphabet and not enough words to really make sense in English, but I did my dependable with a lot of help from a couple of local Irish people scholars. What intrigued me most was a warning I found buried in the textbook that said not to go walking on the fen during the meteor shower because 'when an arrow from Orion 's bow falls to the ground at mid-darkness on 'Dark Night'the doorway of the Billie Jean Moffitt King shaper will open .'''

'' At least, that 's what I thought it said. A local scholar, who had been teaching me Erse, told me that 'King Makers'should be 'Queen maker'because the Celts did n't have big businessman. They had nance - Queens known for their peach and their daring and their physical ability. Brave generals who had won not bad engagement would be rewarded with a night or two in bed with the Queen. That not only served to provide incentive to the general, it also provided brave breeding stock for futurity queen mole rat to rule over the Celtic tribes. ``

'' This Same learner assured me that 'Dark Night'was a cite to Shavnah. If you transliterate the Son from Gaelic into English letters, you end up with Samhain, but he was adamant it was pronounced, 'Shavnah .'He was especially adamant that Gerald Gardiner had gotten it damage when he pronounced it 'Soween .'''

'' Shavnah is the master basis for what eventually became Allhallows Eve. It is the Nox of the commencement night of the moon following the Autumnal equinox. My coach noted that the Romans took the holiday back with them after they ALMOST curb Hibernia around 45 CE. They moved it to November 1, and the night before became known as 'All Hallows Eve ,'or 'Halloween .'In today 's calendar, Shavnah is somewhere in the maiden 21 days of Oct, not on October 31. ``

Dr. Soren Peter Lauritz Sorensen paused to let all that information sink into my very bewildered skull. `` In 1949, my natal day ..., and the peak of the Orionid meteor showers, fell on Shavnah, as it did in 1968 and 1979, and will again in 2025 and 2063. '' He gave me a very mysterious smiling and went on, `` I was back on those hillsides in '68 and '79, but I will birth to miss 2025. ''

Another trill of the head brought him back to his story. `` In '49 it was a very illuminate, very dark Night, and the meteor display was phenomenal. Looking up at star topology that you would never see in the light-colored pollution that exists today, I could clearly see the total outline of the mighty hunter and watch as arrow after arrow seemed to leave alone his bow and flare across the nighttime sky. Then one of the 'arrows'fell to earth not more than a few yard from where I was standing. I 'm sure that it was nothing more than a touch of dust or a very pocket-sized pebble by the clock time it hit the primer, but that close, the fanfare was nearly blinding. ``

'' As my heart began to readjust to the duskiness, I thought at outset that the flash had damaged my retinas. I was indisputable that something was wrong with my imagination because I could not believe what my eyes showed me. Standing there before me was the most beautiful womanhood I had ever seen. She was marvellous, with a soundbox any Olympic athlete would die for. Her deep-copper-colored pilus wound around her body nearly to her foot. Her mammilla were bright pink, and stood stiff and set up in the cold, nighttime air. The hair between her stage was a brighter tincture of copper-orange and curled tightly against her cleft. ``

'' I shook my heading as if to sack an odd hallucination, but the bare adult female remained standing before me and began to approach me. As she walked slowly toward me, she said softy, 'There is not much meter. The threshold remains spread only for a short while. We must take a crap a Queen before the muscularity dissipates .'At to the lowest degree, that 's what I think she said. She was speaking a very strange form of Gaelic, and I had enough difficulty trying to understand the topical anesthetic version. ``

'' She pulled me into her branch and began tugging at my wearable. Soon we were both lying naked on the squashy stain of the Irish fen. Our love making was unrestrained, she, from a need only she could understand, and I from my lust for her nearly sodding trunk. In just here and now we were lying still, entangled, breathless, sweaty, and spent. ``

'' 'We have made a tabby ,'she said to me. 'Now we can deal our sentence and truly bask each other. You may call me Eve .'I did n't learn until later that Eve was spelled A-o-i-f-e ''

'' We made jazz all Night. I was 19, and that was possible for me then. In the dawning, we returned to my flat together. I was shirtless, she was wearing nothing but my shirt and pelage. It was scandalously short for that day, but would not even be noticed today. I was n't sure how I was going to explain her to my roommates, let alone to Mrs. O'Malley. ''

'' Mrs. O'Malley, our landlord, was an extremely fastidious, piddling old Irish dame who 'did n't put up with any rascality in her place .'She was sitting on the front porch as we came walking up the course. ``

'' I was still trying to figure out what to say when Eve spoke to her in Gaelic. Mrs. O'Malley 's eyes went wide and she crossed herself rapidly several times. 'Of course, dearie ,'she answered .'I will put you up in the free room until we can make the organization for the wedding .'''

'' As Eve walked up the pace and went into the house, Mrs O'Malley pulled me aside and said to me in her heavily lilted English, 'So, Nate, me boy, you just had to go wandering on the fen on Dark Night when the arrow were shooting, did ye ? well, the room access opened for ye, and you were chosen. Now you 've gotten yourself a poove Jehovah for a wife. Aoife tells me that the pansy has been made, but understand this : You be good to her, and the leprechauns will begrudge your fortune. You treat her wrong, and you will begrudge those in the deepest pit of hellhole .'''

'' I was deeply in lustfulness, if not love for Eve. Mrs. O'Malley 's words overcame any hesitation on my part, and I answered her ,'I love Eve. Of trend I will marry her, and I would never care for her wrong .'''

'' Mrs. O'Malley answered, 'Aye, you will hook up with Eve. She will wait for you and you will wait for her. That is foretold in the stars and written in the Isidor Feinstein Stone. But I was speaking about the Queen. You love her and raise her right or my look will track you down when I 've gone beneath the sod ..., and you will see a side of me that no one above the green has ever seen .'''

'' I married Eve about six weeks later. A very get on priest conducted the ceremony far out in the countryside in a very old church service that seemed to be almost in ruining. I expected something close to the church 's standard wedding ceremony, but instead of the steady book, he used a very, very old leather bounce book that appeared to be written totally in ancient Gaelic with expound penmanship on every page. He spoke most of the divine service in that same, strange form of Gaelic that Eve had spoken and I had bother following a lot of it. When we got to the vows, he repeated each program line in English for my benefit. ``

'' 'Eve ,'he said, 'you have come through the door and chosen this deathly man. Will you bang him in the clip you have together and wait for him until the arrows call him home ?'''

'' She answered, 'Aye .'''

'' 'Nathaniel ,'he said to me, 'you have been chosen. Do you bear your chosenness ? Do you promise to carry the nance to her stool and love and protect her for as long as you live ? And do you promise to wait for Eve until the night on which the arrows call you back so that you may be together forever ?'''

'' I answered, 'Yes, I do ,'but I really had no musical theme what in the netherworld he was talking about. None of it made signified. I just assumed that they used some unusual, ancient marriage ritual in that surface area. ``

'' I found out what it all meant the play along July, when Earl 's mother was born. '' Dr. Sorensen 's middle clouded as he continued. `` Roisin was to be our lonesome child. Eve died in vaginal birth. Or at least that 's what the doctor said. Eve had told me a few days before, with split in her middle, that after the child was born, she would have to be going family, but she would wait for me there as she had promised. Her grave is on that hillside where I first met her. By her postulation, it is marked only by the shamrocks and rampantly flowers of the heath. ``

His articulation was thick as he continued, `` I raised pink wine on my own - not easy for a man going through eight or so years of college to get a doctorate. She had a fiery feeling that matched the colouring material of her hair, and in another age, in another position, could very well have become a true Queen. ``

'' Instead, I made sure that she was properly educated at the near colleges and universities in the domain. She lives out east and is now the head of one of the top circumstances 500 companies. The electric chair in her office is a design based on the throne of the Celtic Queen, Medb, a mythical warrior pouf of ancient Ireland. A portraiture of Medb in to the full battle armor hangs behind her desk. I do n't sleep with where she got that painting, but the artist painted Medb to look very much like Eve. ``

Another looking at at me over his chicken feed, `` It would appear that the CEO 's of our turgid companies are the Kings and poof of today and rose wine has fulfilled her destiny in today 's world. ``

Then he slumped slightly forward. It was as if he had expended the last of his energy telling me of the nance Jehovah and the pansy he helped to bring into our world. He said softly to no one, `` Our little rosiness has become a Queen. ``

We could almost see the life flowing out of him. With smashing endeavor he raised his psyche. `` Tell my fib, W. William Tell it so people will think. Tell it so someday on an Irish fen, another Queen Maker can step into our world and a proper man will be waiting. Maybe she can stay longer for him than Eve did for me. Tell my narration. narrate the story of Aoife, the Queen Creator and poove rosiness whom she brought into this world. ``

With that his head lolled fully forward. Almost simultaneous with his final words, the room was filled with a flashgun of light accompanied by a loud blast just outside the windowpane. A suck came rushing into the elbow room, `` Is everyone all right ? '' she asked. `` You wo n't believe what just happened. A lowly meteor hit the ground right next to the building. I was afraid it might take in broken the windowpane, it was so close. ``

'' Everything 's mulct, '' I answered. All centre followed mine as I looked back at the bed, `` That was just the door opening so Dr. Soren Peter Lauritz Sorensen could go back to a hillside on the heath to be with his beloved Eve. ``

We all stood around in the way silently as Earl softly said his final goodbyes to his granddad. Most of what he said was too restrained for me to hear, but at one point I could clearly him say, `` I should consume believed you, grandfather. We could have gathered the whole family to be here tonight instead of just me. But I guess you wanted it this way. I hope you told W everything you wanted him to say. ``

When he was finished and we were all starting to go out the door, I paused and turned back to the bed. I addressed the body lying in the bed, but I was actually speaking to a spirit that was probably now walking the heath in Emerald Isle with the char he had loved - and waited for - his entire life. `` Do n't worry Nate, '' I told him, `` I will severalize the world the story of Aoife, the fagot maker. And if I am still above the sod, I will be on the fen that surrounds Birr Castle on Dark Night in 2025. I know that I will be too old to be chosen - if I had ever been worthy of that - but maybe, just maybe, the doorway will open near me, and you and Eve can tell me More of the chronicle of the Queen-makers. ``

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END OF STORY
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