Fantasy Starship Gods

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The God Taylor and the Goddess Alexis​

Taylor got out of the bath the following morning. He was surprised to find Drusilla there, holding a towel for him. She had never done that before. He reddened as she saw him naked and quickly took the towel from her dainty elf-like hands. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Preparing to dress my Lord," said Drusilla. She held up two sets of clothes. "Would my Lord prefer silver today, or blue?"

"No, what are you doing here in my bathroom?"

It had been Alexis's idea, but Drusilla had been too well coached to tell Taylor that. "I am here to tend to your every need, my Lord," she said. He couldn't help but look at her big dark eyes, and then her even bigger breasts. They seemed to pout with his obvious disapproval.

She started to sniffle, as she had been instructed. "Is the Lord not pleased?"

"No... no... it's all right, it's just... it's all right," said Taylor finally.

The sniffles immediately vanished, as if dispelled by magic. "Thank you, Lord. Your approval means so much to me." She turned and left, leaving Taylor to watch her ample buttocks wiggle. Alexis had picked her from a selection of a dozen very attractive women who Najib had located. By now, knowing Taylor's tastes the way she did, she knew the best criteria to select from.

"Taylor must die," said Salmoneous.

"But he is a God," said Iolas.

"He is no God," said Salmoneous. "He is a false God! He is Milsh!"

"Taylor is Milsh?"

"Yes, he is Milsh!" said Salmoneous. "He must be destroyed!" He passed Iolas the dagger. "That dagger has enough poison in it to kill ten gods. One tiny scratch, and he will be dead in seconds. Use it, and your place in the Heavens will be guaranteed."

"All 173 women?"

Salmoneous laughed. "For a feat such as this, killing a false God, I cannot imagine the Gods giving you fewer than 400 women!"

"400 women!" said Iolas, amazed.

"Imagine that, you could have a different woman every day for a year, and never get serviced by the same woman twice!" said Salmoneous.

"I'll do it," said Iolas immediately.

"Just one thing," said Salmoneous. "The Goddess Alexis is not to be touched."

Jefferson was on the road to Genecia's farm, when he saw her pulling her melon cart. But she wasn't alone. She was surrounded by three men.

"Come on, Jenny. Give us a kiss," said one of them, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged him off. "Get away from me, Osilius!"

Another tried to grab her, but she pushed him away. The third laughed.

"What's going on here?" said Jefferson, coming up behind them.

They turned and saw him.

"Well, if it isn't the God of goat shit," said Osilius. "Tell us, great God, have you been working in goat shit today? Or has it been pig shit?"

"He's no God," said one of the other men.

"Get away from her," said Jefferson.

"Or what?" said Osilius. "The way I see it, the Lord Taylor may be a God, but you're certainly not. You're more like the God's... errand boy."

"Gods don't get mixed up in goat shit," said the third man.

"I'm giving you fair warning to leave," said Jefferson, tensing up.

"Or what?" said Osilius. He strode over to Jefferson, and pushed him on the shoulder. He looked at his hand. "I just touched a God. Did my hand fall off? No?" He laughed.

Jefferson stepped forward. A second man came over and sucker punched him. Jefferson fell down.

"He falls like a mortal," the second man laughed.

"Get up, God," said Osilius. "Impress us with your Godly falling skills as we beat the crap out of you."

Jefferson got up. Just as the men were approaching to strike again, he drew his blaster and fired three discrete shots. Three men went down.

"This God scored 95% on the Survey Service shooting range," said Jefferson calmly, holstering his still smoking blaster.

"Lord Jefferson! You're hurt," said Genecia, running towards him. She saw the bruise on his face. Gods couldn't get bruises, could they? And yet Genecia seemed to ignore this all too obvious fact. She said, "Lord, you saved me."

"I just-" his words were cut off as Genecia grabbed him tightly and kissed him on the lips. It was delightful. But when she stepped back, she said, "I have just kissed a God! Will my lips fall off?"

"I think mine will fall off before yours do," said Jefferson.

"Are they dead, Lord? Have you smited them down and sent them to the Womanless Forest?"

"No, more like a shorter trip to the Girlfree Bushes," said Jefferson. He saw the confusion in her face. "They will recover."

She put her arm around his, and her touch felt like electricity. "Let's see about putting those melons into the right hands, shall we?" said Jefferson.

The next day, when Taylor stepped out of the bath, he found something quite unexpected. Instead of being treated to the luscious sight of Drusilla's well formed breasts (she always wore very low cut gowns!), he was treated to the much different sight: of a deranged bearded man, holding a dagger.

"Did you make a wrong turn somewhere?" Taylor asked, still completely naked.

"Die, Milsh!" the man cried, lunging at him. Taylor tried to dodge, but his foot slid across the floor. The dagger scraped across his arm, drawing a small line of blood.

The man stepped back, seeing what he had done. Taylor looked curiously at his attacker. He seemed to be waiting for something.

Five seconds passed. Then ten seconds. Then twenty.

When Taylor saw that nothing else was going to happen, he lunged forward, and grabbed the dagger from the now unresisting man. Then he punched him in the face and he went down.

"Guards!" he yelled.

Servants came running in. It was embarrassing for all of them to see him naked like that. He was most concerned for Drusilla, actually. Had this assassin killed her on his way in? He was relieved when he saw her arrive along with the rest of the servants in this wing, looking quite unharmed.

"What happened?" said Alexis, stepping in front of the servants.

"This man came into my bathroom and tried to kill me," said Taylor. He reached over and finally covered his nudity with a towel.

"You're hurt," Alexis cried.

Taylor frowned. "It's just a scratch." He looked at his arm. It had already stopped bleeding.

"Have him taken away!" Alexis snapped. "I want him interrogated!" Servants hustled the assassin away.

"I knew we were going to have problems like this, sooner or later," said Alexis. "We need a dedicated security force, not a few palace guards of questionable loyalty."

"We've talked about this before," said Taylor. "I don't want to create a religious police force."

"Then don't call them that. Call them bodyguards. Call them whatever you like. But I insist that you get more protection!" said Alexis.

Taylor sighed. "This assassin didn't seem very threatening, by assassin standards."

"The next one may be."

"I just don't have the time to interview guards," said Taylor. "I'm too busy running things. Do you see the line of supplicants who line up at the Palace every day to solve their petty disputes?"

"It will take no time at all. I'll handle it. I'll vet and hire people we can trust," said Alexis.

Taylor gave her a kiss. "Thank you dear. I don't know what I'd do without you."​