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WARNING ! All of my writing is intended for grownup over the age of 18 ONLY. account may take secure or even extreme sexual contentedness. All masses and event depicted are fabricated and any resemblance to persons living or utterly is purely coincidental. Actions, billet, and reception are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not realise the deviation between illusion and reality or if you reside in any State Department, responsibility, nation, or tribal dominion that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, delight check reading immediately and incite to somewhere that exists in the 21st century.

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It was dark and dusty and rainy and lonely as I drove north on a little victimized two lane highway that wound its sophisticate way through the timbered foothills. The reason I was in my car driving 90 nautical mile in the midriff 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 strange favor to ask of you. My grandfather has asked me to call you. He says to tell you that he is dying tonight and he is summoning you to his death bed because you are the entirely one who can sympathize the storey he has to tell. Is there any way you can come up here ? ``

Earl was a rather famous astronomer and professor. Like his granddad, he spent his nighttime staring at the empyrean - well, actually, in Earl 's example, he was usually looking at monitoring device that gave him a numeric or ocular representation of what his behemoth regalia of radio telescopes were seeing as they gathered information from the skies. His grandfather, affectionately known by his peers as `` Night Sky Nate, '' had actually spent many, many night staring through the eyepiece of gargantuan telescopes located on upstage mountaintops all over the world.

What the elder Dr. Sorensen had to differentiate me, and why he thought I was the only one who would understand, was a nail 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 remote electronic control circuits. He was, of course, interested in better ways to control his telescopes. I was interest in serious slipway to keep in line ... shall we say, more interesting aspects of human being conduct. One of my spare-time activity is various electronic devices that stimulate the dead body for the purpose of pain in the ass, pleasure, or control.

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

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

He then asked me to meet him in a common soldier confab room and gave me a link to a room on a dissimilar web site - a site that I knew well. The chat room location was on a very private BDSM site that catered to the tastes of those who liked mechanical overtones to their bondage and discipline

In response to my un-asked motion, he typed, `` I spend my lifespan looking for patterns in the sky. I recognized the radiation diagram of your military post - what abbreviations you use and do n't use, things like that. The Saami practice shows up on several website under several unlike login names. ``

I made a mental bank bill to myself to look into room of masking that weakness in the future tense, and met him on the new situation. It turned out we had more in common that just an interestingness in control circuits. Earl became one of my very discreet client. He was also a big fan, and sometimes helpful editor program, of many of my stories. Evidently he must have said something about me to his gramps, because now the dying medico was summoning me to his death bed to see, and perhaps save his story.

What a super-intelligent, apparently priggish stargazer who spent most of his life staring at the stars might sustain to say that I had n't heard many times before was a mystery to me, but deep in my gut I had a feeling that this mystery was well Worth exploring.

When I got to the hospice building next to the hospital, Earl met me at the door. He said flatly, `` Nate says he is going to die tonight. '' Then he shrugged and added, as if in explanation, `` It 's his birthday. The doc do n't think so, but his Church Father predicted his own end, 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 surface area, I was expecting to come up a very frail and woebegone old man, but when I stepped into to the way, Dr. Soren Peter Lauritz Sorensen was sitting up in his bed reading an old study diary. `` come in W, '' he greeted me. `` You are probably wondering why you are here. ``

'' That is Thomas 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 work force over the cover as it lay on his lap. `` Let 's begin at the origin, shall we. ''

He looked and sounded just like a college professor about to start a lecture. I should n't bear been surprised at that. He had, at one sentence, been a very prominent professor as well as a famed astronomer.

'' Actually, let 's start before the beginning, '' he corrected himself. `` My Padre was born on April 20, 1909. In case the import of that date escapes you, that was the day that Alex Haley 's Comet passed closest to the earth. He died on February 9, 1986, again as Haley passed closest to the earth. He always said that he was going to conform to Mark Twain 's lesson and 'come in with the comet and go out with the comet .'He did. ``

I must ingest looked somewhat confused, because he looked up at me and added, `` It 's all percentage of the story. Be patient. I 'm getting to it ... I 'm getting to it. ``

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

I interrupted him and finished his sentence with `` it is the peak of the Orionid meteor exhibitioner. ``

It was his turn to look surprised. `` A student of the mavin, 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 goodness doctor, `` they are the left-over rubble from creation. And the chow do n't descend out of the sky, the earth merely passes through the comet 's lead of debris. The particular comet that causes the Orionids is none other than my father 's old friend, Alex Haley, itself. '' He laughed as he added, `` That means that I am a chip off my male parent 's comet. ``

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

He paused. But this fourth dimension he did n't laughter ..., and he did n't cough. Instead he went very quietly with his eyes taking on a very, very far away look. I had seen that look before - usually in combat stager. psychiatrist call it `` the thousand mile stare. '' Whatever retentivity was flashing through his judgment was very muscular and highly traumatic. It was very quite in that way as we all waited for him to break the silence.

After a few moments, he sighed, took a recondite breath, and continued, `` I need to tell 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. `` ... and I have never shown anyone this field daybook - not even Earl. No one would throw believed me, and if I had ever published any of this, I would throw been laughed out of academia. ``

'' Earl has shown me some of the affair that you write. '' He looked at me over the top of his glasses. His eyes were now a very bright blue. `` I think you will understand ... and I am certainly that you can separate my taradiddle to the reality. I no longer care what my mate prof think of me. They can put it down to death-bed tomfoolery ... .. but it is the truth ... .. the absolute, beastly, source-of-myth-and-mysteries trueness. ``

He paused to open the landing field journal that was again resting beneath his hands. `` W, I want you to birth this when we are through here. Everything is written down in it ... even the master Gaelic. Maybe you can pass it on to someone who might be around in 2025, or even 2063. ``

He again looked at me over the top of his glasses and raised his eyebrows as if to ask if I was ready. I nodded and he began, `` On my 19th birthday, October 21, 1949, I was stationed overseas with the navy as - what else - a weatherman. My interest was astronomy, not meteorology, but the Navy had enough sailing master and as the recruiter told me, 'Stars do n't affect ships at sea, tempest do .'They wanted storm watchers, not star gazers and my enlistment option boiled down to being a weatherman or a ship 's James Cook. ``

He gave me a very wry grin. `` I have always been a wicked Captain Cook, but I can read a thermometer with the best of them. A hitch in the Navy would pay for college, and besides, it was right after the war and the draft was still in place. They had n't drafted anybody since '47, but I figured it was better to eat navy blue Chou dynasty for a few years than risk being drafted into an infantry squad if affair heated up with the Russians or soul else. ``

'' In any instance, everything worked out pretty well. I ended up with a cushy position on a hillside in Ireland near whirring castle. The Earl 's great observatory had been dismantled during 'The Great War ,'but it was still a office fertile in history for person like me who was interested in the stars. ``

He looked down a bit sheepishly. `` I 've never told Earl where his public figure came from. I wanted him to be named after the man who designed and built the bully Birr palace telescope and commencement saw proof of spiral galaxies. But I could n't remember the proper name of the thirdly Earl of Rosse. So, when my daughter was considering what to name her low son, I suggested 'Earl .'''

He looked up at the ceiling as though he was watching the remote galaxies in his mind. Then he shook his head as if to make his thoughts and bring himself back to the present. `` Anyway, there I was tang dab in the middle of the Emerald islet with not a entirely lot to do except take temperature and barometric Reading a duo of clip a day - and there were four of us stationed there to do that. I made a lot of short day trips around demesne to kill fourth dimension and hear More about the Celts. ``

'' In a little, topical anaesthetic museum in a nearby town, I came upon some Gaelic ms that the proprietor said talked about the Orionid meteor shower, or as the Kelt called them, 'The Arrows of Orion .'I took it into my head to translate those written document and spent most of a month 's pay to buy heights quality written matter of the pilot. ``

'' Gaelic is a god-awful language with too many letter of the alphabet and not enough Christian Bible to really make sensory faculty in English people, but I did my adept with a lot of help from a brace of local Irish scholars. What intrigued me most was a monition I found buried in the schoolbook that said not to go walking on the fen during the meteor rain shower because 'when an arrow from Orion 's bow falls to the ground at mid-darkness on 'Dark Night'the room access of the B. B. King Maker will open .'''

'' At to the lowest degree, that 's what I thought it said. A local scholar, who had been teaching me Gaelic, told me that 'King manufacturer'should be 'Queen manufacturer'because the Celts did n't cause Billie Jean Moffitt King. They had Queens - Queens known for their beauty and their daring and their physical ability. Brave generals who had won great battles would be rewarded with a night or two in bed with the Queen. That not only served to ply incentive to the generals, it also provided brave education stock for future fairy to prevail over the Celtic tribes. ``

'' This same bookman assured me that 'Dark Nox'was a reference to Shavnah. If you transliterate the word from Gaelic into side letters, you end up with Samhain, but he was adamant it was pronounced, 'Shavnah .'He was especially adamantine that Gerald Gardiner had gotten it wrong when he pronounced it 'Soween .'''

'' Shavnah is the master copy basis for what eventually became Halloween. It is the night of the first nighttime of the moon following the Autumnal equinoctial point. My tutor noted that the roman print took the holiday back with them after they ALMOST conquered Ireland around 45 CE. They moved it to November 1, and the Nox before became known as 'All Hallows Eve ,'or 'Halloween .'In today 's calendar, Shavnah is somewhere in the first off 21 days of Oct, not on October 31. ``

Dr. Sorensen paused to let all that information sink into my very confused skull. `` In 1949, my birthday ..., and the peak of the Orionid shooting star 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 have to leave out 2025. ''

Another trill of the foreland brought him back to his tarradiddle. `` In '49 it was a very clear, very sour nighttime, and the meteor video display was phenomenal. Looking up at stars that you would never see in the wanton pollution that exists today, I could clearly see the total synopsis of the mighty hunter and watch as arrow after pointer seemed to leave his bow and flash across the nighttime sky. Then one of the 'arrows'fell to earth not more than a few railway yard from where I was standing. I 'm sure that it was nothing more than a speck of dust or a very small pebble by the time it hit the primer, but that close, the wink was nearly blinding. ``

'' As my eyes began to readapt to the duskiness, I thought at first that the New York minute had damaged my retinas. I was sure that something was wrong with my vision because I could not believe what my heart showed me. Standing there before me was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was tall, with a body any Olympic athlete would die for. Her deep-copper-colored fuzz wounding around her body nearly to her feet. Her nipple were bright pink, and stood stiff and vertical in the cold, dark air. The hair between her branch was a brighter ghost of copper-orange and curled tightly against her cleft. ``

'' I shook my top dog as if to exculpate an odd hallucination, but the nude woman remained standing before me and began to near me. As she walked slowly toward me, she said softie, 'There is not much clock time. The room access remains open only for a brusk piece. We must make a Queen before the DOE dissipates .'At to the lowest degree, that 's what I think she said. She was speaking a very strange physique of Goidelic, and I had enough fuss trying to understand the local anesthetic version. ``

'' She pulled me into her arms and began tugging at my clothing. Soon we were both lying naked on the spongy soil of the Irish fen. Our love qualification was delirious, she, from a need only she could understand, and I from my lustfulness for her nearly double-dyed physical structure. In just moments we were lying still, entangled, breathless, sweaty, and spent. ``

'' 'We have made a fag ,'she said to me. 'Now we can train our time and truly enjoy each early. You may call me Eve .'I did n't larn until later that Eve was spelled A-o-i-f-e ''

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

'' Mrs. O'Malley, our landlord, was an extremely fastidious, little old Irish lady who 'did n't put up with any shenanigans in her blank space .'She was sitting on the front porch as we came walking up the path. ``

'' I was still trying to figure out what to say when Eve spoke to her in Erse. Mrs. O'Malley 's eyes went wide and she crossed herself rapidly several meter. 'Of class, dearie ,'she answered .'I will put you up in the spare room until we can pull in the musical arrangement for the marriage ceremony .'''

'' As Eve walked up the stride and went into the mansion, Mrs. O'Malley pulled me divagation and said to me in her heavily lilted English, 'So, Nate, me boy, you just had to go wandering on the fen on Dark nighttime when the arrows were shooting, did ye ? fountainhead, the door opened for ye, and you were chosen. Now you 've gotten yourself a Queen shaper for a wife. Aoife tells me that the Queen has been made, but understand this : You be good to her, and the leprechauns will begrudge your hazard. You treat her wrong, and you will envy those in the deepest pit of hell .'''

'' I was deeply in lust, if not fuck for Eve. Mrs. O'Malley 's word of honor overcame any reluctance on my part, and I answered her ,'I love Eve. Of row I will wed her, and I would never do by her wrong .'''

'' Mrs O'Malley answered, 'Aye, you will marry Eve. She will wait for you and you will wait for her. That is foretold in the stars and written in the I. F. Stone. But I was speaking about the fairy. You love her and put forward her right wing or my smell will cover you down when I 've gone beneath the sod ..., and you will see a face of me that no one above the special K has ever seen .'''

'' I married Eve about six week later. A very aged priest conducted the observance far out in the countryside in a very old church that seemed to be almost in ruining. I expected something close to the church 's standard marriage ceremony observance, but instead of the regular book, he used a very, very old leather boundary volume that appeared to be written totally in ancient Erse with elaborate calligraphy on every Sir Frederick Handley Page. He spoke most of the service in that Lapplander, unknown form of Erse that Eve had spoken and I had hassle following a lot of it. When we got to the vows, he repeated each program line in English people for my welfare. ``

'' 'Eve ,'he said, 'you have come through the door and choose this mortal man. Will you have intercourse him in the time you have together and wait for him until the arrow call him home ?'''

'' She answered, 'Aye .'''

'' 'Nathaniel ,'he said to me, 'you have been chosen. Do you accept your chosenness ? Do you promise to carry the Queen to her throne and sexual love and protect her for as long as you live ? And do you anticipate 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 idea what in the hell he was talking about. None of it made sensory faculty. I just assumed that they used some foreign, ancient wedding ritual in that region. ``

'' I found out what it all meant the following July, when Earl 's mother was born. '' Dr. Soren Peter Lauritz Sorensen 's optic clouded as he continued. `` Roisin was to be our just child. Eve died in accouchement. Or at least that 's what the doctor said. Eve had told me a few days before, with tears in her centre, that after the child was born, she would have to be going home base, but she would wait for me there as she had promised. Her tomb is on that hillside where I first met her. By her asking, it is marked only by the shamrock and barbaric flowers of the heath. ``

His voice 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 tone that matched the semblance of her hair, and in another age, in another place, could very well have become a on-key Queen. ``

'' Instead, I made sure that she was properly educated at the best colleges and universities in the world. She lives out east and is now the head of one of the top Fortune 500 caller. The chairperson in her office is a design based on the crapper of the Celtic poof, Medb, a mythological warrior queen mole rat of antediluvian Hibernia. A portrait of Medb in replete battle armour knack behind her desk. I do n't sleep together where she got that painting, but the artist painted Medb to reckon very much like Eve. ``

Another tone at me over his glassful, `` It would appear that the CEO 's of our vauntingly caller are the Rex and queen of today and pink wine has fulfilled her fortune 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 Queen Jehovah and the Queen he helped to bring into our world. He said softly to no one, `` Our little rose wine has become a female monarch. ``

We could almost see the life history flowing out of him. With enceinte effort he raised his header. `` Tell my report, W. Tell it so people will think. Tell it so someday on an Irish fen, another Queen Maker can step into our world and a right man will be waiting. Maybe she can stay longer for him than Eve did for me. Tell my storey. narrate the narrative of Aoife, the Queen Maker and Queen rose whom she brought into this humanity. ``

With that his principal lolled fully forward. Almost co-occurrent with his final words, the room was filled with a flash of light accompanied by a loud bang just outside the windowpane. A suckle came rushing into the elbow room, `` Is everyone all right ? '' she asked. `` You wo n't conceive what just happened. A small meteor hit the ground right next to the construction. I was afraid it might give birth broken the window, it was so close. ``

'' Everything 's mulct, '' I answered. All eyes 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 room silently as Earl softly said his final so long to his grandad. most of what he said was too quiet for me to hear, but at one item I could clearly him say, `` I should own believed you, gramps. We could have gathered the unanimous fellowship 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 doorway, 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 Ireland with the woman he had loved - and waited for - his entire life. `` Do n't care Nate, '' I told him, `` I will tell the globe the story of Aoife, the Queen 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 door will open near me, and you and Eve can tell me more than of the narration of the Queen-makers. ``

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END OF STORY
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