Andromeda

She felt the bubbling hot waters rejuvenate her and in the process, pique her sexual interest all over again. “Yep,” she though, “a never-ending orgy, just like with Uri.” She felt the lips of her two lovers circle her nipples as she floated in the pool, well on her way to another orgasmic frenzy in Asgard.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Anna heard from above as she soaked in the pool with her lovers on either side of her. She looked up to see her Valkyrie guide, Mist, standing on the bank. “I was looking for you. I feared you had gotten yourself lost, but I see you are exactly where you belong.”

“But, I, it just happened.” Anna felt she should apologize for some reason.

“Come.” Mist offered Anna a hand out of the water. Anna took it and climbed out of the warmth of the pool. She waved good-bye to the slaves, still soaking and relaxing.

“Good bye, Anna,” her red-headed slave friend said, waving back.

“Find us again,” her male friend said.

“I will show you more of Asgard,” her Valkyrie said, paying no heed to the slaves.

Just as she felt the chill of the morning air, a strange warmth surrounded her. A whirlwind of heat caressed her body. It felt like hundreds of gentle fingers touching her all over. She looked around to see where this phenomenon came from.

“Air spirits,” Mist explained. “They are here to dry you off.”

As soon as Anna was dry, Mist directed her to get dressed in her same little black dress, and led her away from the pool. She showed Anna more of Asgard, which was mostly well-manicured lawns on either side of paths winding between gentle hills. There was the occasional grand palace: a home of this god or or that goddess. Anna soon lost track of the names. Frey, Iduna, Thor, Sif. She did note Frigga and Freya, Odin’s two wives. As she was led past their palaces, Anna had the strangest feeling that Odin had somehow betrayed her by being married — to not one, but two goddesses — while he consorted with her. But, then again, her liaisons had been far from conventional, too.

Mist had lunch brought for the two of them to a clearing that overlooked a vast, cold northern ocean surrounding Asgard. It was served by two young and well-proportioned male slaves. Anna regretted that she was not in the mood for sex at the moment — too exhausted and satisfied to have her interest piqued, and no effervescing pool to entice her libido. She just let the two serve her lunch on a blanket on the grass. Anna watched their muscled bodies in motion as they laid out the plates and flagons, soaking in the view of these two slaves as they served her and Mist their meal.

---

Late in the afternoon, Anna met a time trader.

“Montana Chang, 2067,” the man in the suede jacket said as he tipped his cowboy hat. Pleased to meet’cha, Ms.”

Anna wondered what a short Chinese fellow was doing with a name like Montana and a cowboy accent. She also wondered about this “Ms.” thing he called her.

“Er, I’m Anna Singer.”

“When’d’ya come from?”

“When?”

“Yeah, the year you were in when they brought you up?”

“Oh, I get it. 1967.”

“Cool year, Beatles ‘n all,” cowboy Chang said. “Hey, we’re exactly 100 years apart!”

“So, how did you get up here, Mr. Chang?” Anna asked.

“Slayed me a Frost Giant,” he said, trying hard to be modest. “Was out riding the range, saw this funny looking war hammer, if you could call it that, lying in the grass. So I picked it up and wham, was transported to some other reality. This righteous dude with one eye —”

“Odin?”

“Yep, that's the guy, all right. Anyway, he told me to practice with the hammer because he was going to send me on this mission to kill a Frost Giant, the deadly enemy of the Gods of Asgard. Don’t remember much of the battle. Heck, I don’t remember it at all, but since I didn’t die, I s’pose I won. So, anyway, as a reward, I get to come and go from Asgard as I please. Only thing is I can’t travel more than 100 years in either direction. Your time is as far back as they let me go.”

“That’s two hundred years you can play with. That’s still a lot. So what do you do?”

“I’m taking electronic surveillance equipment back in time. Going to sell them to MI6. That’s British intelligence.”

“I know who MI6 is,” Anna said. “Can I look at one of those bugs?”

“Sure, but be careful, they’re small.” Montana Chang pulled a small box out of his backpack and handed it to Anna.

Anna studied the box. She saw it was made by someone called the Big Ear Company, a division of EE Intelligence, Inc. of Sacramento, California. Under the name, it read: Serving all your personal and private intelligence needs. When she slid the box open, she saw it contained the same micro-sized device she used in her failed attempt to bug Uri’s apartment.

“No wonder those bastards believed my story about Odin so readily!” Anna handed the box back to the Chinese cowboy. “This explains how they had such small listening devices: it's technology from the future.”

Things started falling into place for Anna. Had MI6 been keeping her in poverty as a way of controlling her? Did they think she'd be able to summon Odin for them? All she got in return was four wasted years in that run-down flat with Liudmila. Compared to that, the time she spent with Uri was filled with growth and self-enrichment.

“Got to go,” Montana said. “I’ll miss my time portal. If I don’t make it in the next few minutes, the gate is going to swing into a different dimension, and I’ll miss my contact with the carrier pigeons.”

“You’re going to reintroduce carrier pigeons in the future?”

“Nothing so grandiose. Just sell a pair to a private arboretum on the Antarctic Archipelago. That hundred year rule applies to the merchandise I carry, too. It’s possible to trade with other time traders, but if the Gods catch me, my days of time hopping are over. I’ll be given to a Goddess as a plaything. Some of them can be down-right cruel.”

Mist cleared her throat. She didn't want to be hearing this.

“Better be changin’ the subject,” Montana said, eyeing the Valkyrie. “What did you do to earn your ticket up here?”

“Hmm? Oh, I died of a heart attack.” Anna said. “They tell me it’s from an earlier battle —”

“You ain’t no Fallen Worthy. Is that what they’ve been tellin’ you?”

“Well, no. Not exactly.”

“Best get a straight answer. Which god is looking out for you?”

“Odin.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Actually, I haven’t seen him since I got here. The last I saw of him, he was trying to revive my body back on Earth. That's when the Valkyries took me.”

“You may not be dead,” Montana told her. “If your heart stops, the Valkyries will take you. They don't rest on ceremony and wait for brain function to shut down. If Odin was with your body, and like you said, trying to revive you, then you're neither a living traveler like me, nor among the Fallen Worthy.”

“But I’ve been here for a day already. Brain function can't survive that long without blood circulation.”

“Time’s a funny thing in Asgard. Oh, I gotta go. Time portal’s a waitin’.” Montana tipped his Stetson to Anna.

“Um, thanks for clearing this all up,” Anna said, even more confused than before. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Montana Chang.”

“Likewise, Anna Singer.”

“Come,” Mist said when the time traveling cowboy turned away.

Anna watched the slight man run down the path and disappear where she guessed his time portal lay.

“So, am I or am I not?” Anna asked Mist.

“Róta and Screech were ordered to bring you up by Odin himself.”

“Where is Odin?”

“He is still on Earth, trying to start your heart.”

They walked along in silence. Anna asked no more questions, and Mist offered no more information. From a hilltop the two of them watched a Viking battle — two groups re-enacting the day they died.

“Soon the feast will start in Valhalla,” Mist said, as the battle wound down. “Tonight you'll be expected to arrive on time. The feast starts when the slave girls are let out of their cages and handed to the Fallen Worthy. From the pleasure you took from the slaves in the pool this morning, this should amuse you. You may even partake of them.”

“Thanks, but no.”

“The slaves don’t have the right to refuse.”

Anna felt her head spin, hearing this from her Valkyrie — the part about slaves not having the right to refuse. She imagined what it would be like to be handed around, and taken so wantonly. She hoped that the Valkyrie couldn’t sense the temperature rise in her loins, but feared her guide was reading her like a book. This embarrassed her.

image credit: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valhalla#/media/File:Walhall_by_Emil_Doepler.jpg

---

… to be continued …

Look for more Erotica, Science Fiction, and Fantasy at @joe.nobel
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