My Father the Czar Copyright 1998 Library of Congress number: 98-96138 by AUTHOR22@aol.com All rights reserved Chapter Fifteen It was with a spirit of light-hearted optimism and exuberant enthusiasm that Russia and her Empire went to war. It would be exciting; it would be good for business; and the boys would be home by Christmas. They did not know that four years of death and destruction lay ahead in a war revolutionized by high explosive shells, rapid- firing machine guns, poison gas, mighty dreadnoughts, stealthy submarines and airplanes. Nor did they know that it would destroy virtually a whole generation of young men. Germany, France and Russia already had elaborate war plans that they proceeded to put into effect - all failed. The object of the German "Schlieffen Plan" was to strike quickly against France, destroy her armies, and then turn against the more slowly mobilizing Russians on the eastern flank. The plan almost succeeded. Massive German armies struck through Belgium, battered the fortified cities of Lige and Namur, and wheeled southward into France. At Mons, a small British Expeditionary Force made a determined stand; but the task was impossible and the "Old Contemptibles" were forced to retreat. Then the German advance weakened and the French and British counter- attacked. In the First Battle of the Marne, the invasion was checked and the Germans were driven back to a line along the Aisne River. The Schlieffen Plan had failed. The French "Plan XVII" also failed as French drives against Germany in Alsace and Lorraine were repulsed, with many casualties resulting from these attempts. On the eastern front the outcome was similar. At first the Russians, under the command of the Czar's brother Mikhail, moved with unexpected speed, throwing back the Austrians and advancing into Eastern Prussia; but, Allied hopes were dashed as the Germans under von Hindenburg disastrously defeated the Russian armies at Tannenberg and the Masurian Lakes. By late autumn a military deadlock had been reached on both the eastern and the western fronts. Russia could no longer tell the real from the false because she had become like a large lunatic asylum. Things looked normal enough, like an asylum on open house day, but in fact the inmates were all mad. Nowhere was this more obvious than in the capital, whose name had been changed from St. Petersburg to the non-Germanic Petrograd. A wild- eyed, red-headed poet by the name of Gippius re-christened it Chertograd, "Devil-town," for the rich, city life was "gay with the brilliance of a florist's window in winter." The Russians bled because of the Germans; more even than their French and British allies. People shut the fighting out of their minds, "dancing a 'last tango' on the rim of trenches filled with forgotten corpses." "The heartrending sensuality of the tango," the novelist Alexis Tolstoy wrote, "had become a death march for a city tormented by sleepless nights, stupefied and deadened by wine, wealth, and lovemaking without love." Prohibition had been declared with the onset of war. Underpaid officials were easily bribed to ignore it and even the pretense of pouring vodka from a teapot had disappeared. Officers overstaying their leave drank cocktails in the bar of the Hotel de l'Europe whose lobbies were teeming with teenage prostitutes, both male and female. Piotr had become a constant "surprise" visitor to Adrian's quarters during the midnight hours. On several occasions the cadet returned to his barracks without his lust being satisfied; Adrian had not been in his room. Before that eventful night with Rasputin, Adrian had been a regular customer of The Embers; now his appearance was a rare one. Iveren had noted the sailor's absence and suggested that Adrian bring his "boyfriend" along. It was in the midst of one of those "promptings" that the sailor asked if he could make use of Iveren's mountain cabin. The response was a "Maybe, but I would like to know the both of you a little better. Why don't you two join me for a private party in my office. --Then we can discuss a rental fee." Of course Adrian knew what the fee was to be. Even though the man was overweight, and far from sexually attractive, the sailor knew from previous experience that the man's lips were talented. He smiled to himself as he imagined the contemplated weekend orgy. But the bottom line was far into the future. Piotr would not be a cadet forever and, with his connections to the Imperial Family, it was most likely the cadet could become a powerful ally. So, despite his lustful leanings, Adrian discussed these concerns with his host. Finally a plan emerged. Adrian would bring Piotr for a late night supper and they would see how it went. They would create just the right environment... sensual, and seductive. If the cadet fell prey to the game, then all the better; regardless, they would have the use of the cabin. The nightclubs of St. Petersburg were full of "heroes of the rear -- legal deserters." No stigma was attached to the "gray ticket men" who had bought exemption from the front; most of them, through politicians, for a few hundred rubles. A British secret agent, Robert Bruce Lockhart, found his own conduct "puerile and reprehensible." He drank too much with men for whom he felt contempt. He was ashamed and unhappy, adrift with a senseless ennui. The Embers had become his home. He had watched Iveren, hoping to glean something of value, something that might make his present assignment worthy of his presence. Despite the alcohol, his trained ears picked up Iveren's discussion about Piotr. He wondered who the cadet might be. It wasn't until four in the morning, and two visits to Iveren's office, that Adrian left The Embers. Lockhart had noted the two visits and figured that the sailor's chlen was most likely the bait. He chuckled to himself as he drunkenly put the idea of a worm on a hook with his thought of the sailor's cock being bait. He wondered who was doing what to whom. He hoped the sailor didn't have to suck the fat man's dick. Lockhart was not a stranger to male-to-male sex. He had been subjected to the English all-boys schools for most of his early life. His training as a secret agent had encompassed the field of human sexuality ... all types. After Adrian's second return from Iveren's office, Lockhart figured the boy would probably be leaving. His eyes and ears were now on the alert. He ordered a triple vodka which he appeared to consume in large swallows. In fact most of it was then expelled into his sleeve. He then contrived to lurch toward the exit colliding with the sailor as they both attempted to pass through the doorway. In a faked show of intoxication the agent bowed an apology and then offered the sailor a lift to the naval base in his taxi. Spy fever was epidemic. It was the easiest explanation to account for Russia's defeat. The head of the Okhrana was told by a government minister, in all earnest, that two aides-de-camp of the German Kaiser had been seen strolling past the shops of the Nevsky Prospect without a care in the world, "dressed as civilians with their coat collars turned up." Adrian's position in the office of Naval Operations exposed him to matters of security. Everyone from the lowest messenger to the old man himself had been indoctrinated in concerns about espionage; yet, on this early morning, the sailor did not ask himself why this Englishmen should offer him a ride. His only thought was that his host might want to suck his chlen; he hoped not. After two thorough blowjobs from Inveren, he probably couldn't get it up again tonight. While Lockhart had many questions he would have liked to ask, he settled for a little lighthearted chat. The questions could wait until he and the sailor became "good friends". He decided to pay a visit to the British Ambassador. He needed a reason to visit the office of the Russian Chief of Naval Operations. His appearance, in an official capacity, would increase Adrian's trust of him. Nothing overt. Subtle. What Lockhart did not know was that he was being observed, not by the Okrahana, nor by naval security personnel, not even by agents of the Czar. He was being observed by another civilian... Sasha Romkoski, reporter for the Peterburgskie Wedomosti (St. Petersburg News). + + + + + Shortly after Sasha had returned from his Black Sea assignment Sasha had been approached by Roman Malinovsky, chief of "Pravda". He had been offered a "second job" under a nom-de-plume byline. Being a good reporter, he did not reject the offer, just delayed its acceptance. All sources were good sources, he reasoned. On several occasions he wondered what had happened to the kid he had helped get laid in Portugal. Even though he felt he had not received what was due him in that exchange, he racked it up to something which he could call 'a debt owed him to be collected in the future'. Of course Sasha knew the boy was now a cadet at the Naval Academy and presumed that there was now little or no public interest in him. He had heard about the incident with Rasputin at The Embers. He did not know of either Tatiana or Piotrs' involvement in it. He was aware of, but had suppressed, his feelings of guilt stemming from his work. There could be little doubt that all of the newspapers, including his own Wedomosti, were adding to the political turmoil; but, he reasoned, that was the purpose of a newspaper -- not to stir things up, but to accurately report "what was" rather than what someone might "like things to be". He should have recognized, but did not, that it was the passionate nature of the average Russian peasant which needed to be taken into consideration. Passion and organization are not soul mates. Again Malinovsky contacted Sasha with a more tempting offer: Renew his acquaintance with Piotr, look into the happenings at The Embers and simply provide accurate, non-political information. Even though the reporter again declined the offer, it did peak his curiosity. Thus, it came to pass at a time when Adrian's patronage of The Embers was becoming less frequent, the establishment had gained two new regular customers: British Secret Agent Robert Bruce Lockhart and Sasha Romkoski, Reporter for the Peterburgskie Wedomosti (St. Petersburg News). One other fact should also be stressed: Iveren was not a stupid man. + + + + + NOVEMBER 1914 Alexander Palace by Alex-T the Tsarevich + + + + + An American company, with manufacturing facilities in Switzerland, sent me a new movie projector. The new one uses an optical system that takes the flicker out of the pictures. Papa was quite pleased. Someone had sent us reels of film from France, which showed some bloody battles on the French side of the war front in Belgium. Catherine/Alex-P doesn't seem to have much interest in this new project, but when I told him that there might be some naked ladies in the French footage, his ears perked up and he volunteered to help. The equipment came boxed in eight wooden crates and the assembly instructions are in German. My movie theater is on the second floor and just beyond the servant's quarters. The projector is at the back of the room and makes a lot of noise. I was assured that the new one would be quieter; it had to be, as there was a sound system included with it. Mama is fluent in German so I showed her the instructions that had been packed with the projector. After looking at it for quite a while she suggested that I speak with Mr. Gibbs, our English tutor, his German is pretty good and, on a technical level, superior to hers. We had unpacked all of the boxes and looked at the illustrations in the books. I was curious how they were going to add sound. It turned out to be pretty simple. What they had done was add two phonographs. The idea was that there would be records supplied with the reels of film. The beginning of a reel would have a prompt mark on one particular frame. When the projectionist saw the mark he was to push a lever which played one of the records. It was not a very good system because it would take 5 records to provide sound for each reel of film. The Edison Company had sent a reel filmed in New York. It was a fifteen-minute "Can-Can" dance. Consecutive records are to be placed on each of the two phonographs. I played one of the records on the phonograph in our playroom. It was lively and, getting into the spirit of the music, Alex-P threw up her skirts and showed her panties. Anastasia thought it was funny, but Olga did not. The old projector had used an oil lamp as its light source --with mirrors which collected the light, concentrating it into the optical system. Because the light source was so weak, the only time we could use it was after dark. The new projector is all electrical. The light source is produced by arcing current between two rods made of carbon. You have to stick the tips of the two rods together and then slowly back them apart so that they create a bright arc. I was quite surprised when we finally got it working. The light was so bright that you could see the picture even during the day. Papa attended our first "test". We ran the Can-Can reel. Catherine was supposed to start the record players while I worked the projector. He got so interested in what was happening on the screen that he kept missing the sound cues. Finally Papa came back to see how the system worked and to find out why the sound was out of beat with the picture. He's not very good with mechanical things, so his final critique was that sound wasn't practical; it was just another gadget which the Americans had invented. A few days later papa and an officer from the army brought several reels of film. The pictures were the ones taken in Belgium. I think we were all disappointed. The lighting was not good and the movie camera must have been hidden in bushes a long way away from the actual fighting. You could hardly see anything; just puffs of smoke and a few people in the distance either falling down or jumping into holes in the ground. A couple of nights later, after I had crawled into Catherine's bed, we talked about how much better the Can-Can reel was. Then Catherine said something that started me to thinking. What he said was: "I wished we had a movie of that night we fucked those two gypsy girls." He asked me if I could get a movie camera. Maybe we could go back to Gdov and film Yaslov fucking his two girls. Of course that idea started us fantasizing about making a really good movie. Maybe we could take turns with the girls. I asked Papa about getting a movie camera and he said that, since Christmas was coming, he would write to the camera company in Switzerland. + + + + + A brilliant career lay before Paul Benckendorff, nephew of the proprietor of The Embers. He had everything necessary to attain it: an admirable education, high honors when he had graduated in law from St. Petersburg University, and connections within the highest society through his prosperous uncle Iveren. The young man was the apple of his uncle's eye. The property Adrian wanted to use as a weekend hide-a-way with Piotr had been left to Paul by his recently deceased father along with a plot of water front land in Gdov. He was receiving a good rental income from the Gdov property, but the mountain cabin was used only for recreation. His uncle made use of the cabin a few times each year; he would have liked to use it much more often but The Embers kept him occupied. The Okhrana had developed a growing interest in Iveren because of the unique position The Embers held among the city's populace. They had attempted to recruit him, but he declined citing that there were only 24 hours in a day. His value to the Okhrana would be lessened by his taking on any additional tasks; but Iveren suggested that his nephew Paul would be of far greater value to them. The young man had eagerly accepted the offer. It not only gave him additional funds, but it made him feel important. It was in mid-December that Iveren finally gave Adrian permission to use the cabin. Unfortunately, Iveren had failed to mention this fact to Paul. In Germany, the emperor was commander in chief of all the armed forces. His secretary of state for the navy, Grand Admiral Alfred von Tirpitz, had directed the expansion and modernization of the German fleet. Most of the ships of the German navy were organized within the High Seas Fleet, commanded by Admiral Friedrich von Ingenohl. The fleet was based primarily at Wilhelmshaven on the North Sea and at Kiel on the Baltic. Wilhelmshaven and the other German ports on the North Sea were well protected by the heavily fortified island of Heligoland and a series of minefields. Behind that screen, German ships could seek even greater security by passing through the Kiel Canal into the secure waters of the Baltic Sea. Although the German navy could not match the numerical strength of the British fleet, German ships were more modern and in some respects tougher; more powerful and more maneuverable than Britain's. Nonetheless, when the Great War broke out, the British Royal Navy controlled the seas with 28 dreadnoughts and battle cruisers to Germany's 18. News of a British victory off the Falkland Isles had spread through the admiralty. Three German Cruisers had been sunk. Quite suddenly a holiday spirit permeated the Russian naval command. It was already noon on Friday. The snow had been coming down for hours. The streets of the city were adrift with the white stuff. Kids delighted in racing down the streets on their sleds. Not wanting to be seen leaving the naval base together, Piotr and Adrian had agreed to meet at the railway station. They would each purchase their own tickets and then board the north bound train. Once on board, they would change into civilian clothes and pack away their uniforms. As soon as the train cleared the city limits, the two sailors would become civilians: civilians and lovers. + + + + + Friday afternoon had turned miserable. The sun had disappeared by mid- afternoon. The Embers had become crowded. Robert Bruce Lockhart and Sasha Romkoski were sitting side by side at adjacent tables in the bar. Over the course of the last six weeks the two had become acquainted. They were not friends. The only thing they had in common was that they were both snoops; they made their living by ferreting out information. Agent Lockhart, though a very smooth individual, was not as overtly curious as was the reporter Romkoski, but then that was to be expected. Sasha's profession was enhanced by others knowing what work he did while Lockhart's would have been endangered. They would have been equally astonished if they had known of their mutual interest in one Cadet Piotr Veliky. Their conversation on this Friday afternoon had started when Lockhart had asked for a match to light his cigarette. Before the hour was half over they were buying each other drinks. After Sasha returned from a trip to the toilet he moved his glass to Lockhart's table. Iveren, who knew exactly what both of his customers did for a living, chuckled to himself as he thought about these two spies surreptitiously spying on each other. Much later in the evening Iveren's nephew came into the establishment to borrow some money. The proprietor diverted the boy's intentions by sharing his knowledge of the two occupants of "that table in the corner". Paul poured three drinks, put them on a tray, and carried them to the Lockhart table. "Gentlemen, I am Iveren's nephew Paul. May I offer you a drink on the house?" Sasha waved his hand for the intruder to join them. Paul immediately launched into a conversation about the war, the weather, and the quality of the drinks served at The Embers. The three had gone through at least a half-dozen rounds before Paul felt comfortable enough to let the other two recapture the conversation. Lockhart asked Sasha what he had heard of the Falkland incident; did he know which of the German cruisers had been sunk? Before the reporter could answer Paul, interjected that it was Britain's Rear-Admiral Sturdee who had commanded the battle. Both looked surprised and asked where he had obtained his information. Paul just smiled and asked if they would like another round. When he returned to the table, he told them that the German Cruisers Konigsberg and Emden had been sunk and that Admiral Spee, who had commanded the engagement from the Dresden, had narrowly escaped. Then Paul confided that he had heard the details from a sailor. His motivation was one of the principal responsibilities of all members of the Okhrana: stir things up. Nothing happens unless there is activity. Now that he had their attention he thought he would add spice to the mixture. "I have a cabin fifty miles north of here, near the Finnish border. Many St. Petersburg politicians own weekend cabins in that area. It is well known for its fishing. Would you be interested in joining me there sometime before the weather gets too cold?" Neither man was naive enough to presume the invitation was made in the name of being friendly, but both were curious about this stranger and his invitation. They looked each other in the eye and nodded ever so slightly. It was Lockhart who replied: "I don't know about Sasha, but I haven't had a chance to do much fishing since I came to Russia." Sasha asked: "How soon can we go? My editor keeps me on a short leash, but I have this weekend free. Would that be too soon for you?" Paul looked quite pleased, then added: "Well then, why don't we meet at the train station around eight o'clock tomorrow morning?" Sasha said: "Well now, if you are providing the cabin, the least I can do is to provide the transportation. I can use one of the Wedomosti automobiles. If that's agreeable, just meet me at the newspaper at eight." + + + + + Saturday morning started quite early for Piotr. Adrian had almost begged him to spend the night in the senior man's private quarters; nevertheless, the Cadet had successfully declined the invitation claiming that he needed to clean his uniform for the following week. Normally that chore was reserved for the weekends. It was barely six in the morning when Piotr picked up his single overnight bag and headed for the trolley that would take him to the railway station. He had not taken the time to eat breakfast; he would do that after he purchased his ticket. He had been standing on the sidewalk for just a few minutes when the horse drawn vehicle rounded the corner. The trolley did not stop, but slowed enough so that a passenger could grab hold of a handle and swing himself on board. At the next pickup point the driver brought the vehicle to a complete stop, thus permitting two older women to board. He looked towards the front wondering when Adrian would leave the base. Their train was scheduled to leave the station at eight. Meanwhile, Adrian was still sipping a cup of coffee in the staff dining room. While munching on a piece of toast he contemplated the pleasures that lay ahead for him. The sky had continued to be cloudy with still more snow limiting the distance one could see. If he was very lucky the weather would remain inclement. His vision was that of a fireplace with just him and the cadet laying in each other's arms. Even though he had run his fingers through Piotr's pubic hair many times in the past few months it still delighted him while, at the same time, always bringing Piotr to full erection. Adrian's own erection roused him from his fantasies as the voice of his motor pool friend penetrated his thoughts: "You'd better get that sorry ass of yours in gear if we are to get you to the railway station before eight." Quickly he put his hand under the table and adjusted himself so that his ridged chlen was hidden from sight. Doing the trip by motorcar placed Adrian onboard the eight o'clock northbound train while his mate was just walking into the station. There was no one in line at the ticket counter. Piotr surmised that it must be due to the early hour and the snow. Both naval men had packed lightly and carried most of their belongings in borrowed luggage. Both men were looking forward to the next few days but for totally different reasons. For Piotr the past several weeks had been hectic. More and more of his classmates were disappearing into the war effort. During the past months he had purposely avoided any further involvement with the Imperial Family. Now, he wondered if that had been a mistake. Another thing the young cadet had learned, through his experience with Adrian was that the Tsarevich was equally hot for his body... just not as experienced in the games of love. Despite Iveren's promises, it had taken a good deal of direct effort to make this weekend come true. Adrian had given into the fat man's demands far too many times. Finally, he had brought the man to the very brink of climax, artfully prolonging it until Iveren had literally begged for release. Only after extracting an iron-clad promise did he let the big man slip over the edge. Adrian was fully aware that his emotional relationship with his protege' was getting dangerously close to a love affair. But this weekend was prompted by nothing more than out-and-out lust. Each time he had prostituted himself at The Embers, he had laid another brick in his construction of this weekend. To put it bluntly, he wanted to fuck Piotr. He wanted to bring the young sailor to the very edge, just as he had done with Iveren, and he wanted to hear Piotr beg for release. + + + + + While the two sailors were playing the charade of 'strangers meeting on a train', Sasha, Lockhart and Paul Benckendorff were inspecting the open-air touring car that was to be their transportation north. No one had asked the obvious question: "Who would drive?" As it turned out, only Lockhart had ever driven a car. Benckendorff, in the role of supervisor, directed the starting of the vehicle by telling Sasha to find the crank. Once found under the back seat, the reporter put the device into its socket just under the front of the engine. "Put your foot on the brake. Better push the choke all the way down." "OK! OK, already. Since when did you become an expert? I've got the clutch in. Give her a crank." said Lockhart. Sasha pulled up on the crank and the engine coughed. He disengaged the crank and re-inserted the handle for a better upward pull. Instantly, the engine caught and then settled into a smooth roar as the driver readjusted the choke and throttle. Benckendorff had seated himself next to Lockhart so Sasha jumped into the back seat. Despite the cold morning air, he was perspiring. The two up front drew the collars of their fur coats up around their necks while the reporter opened his and mopped his brow. The snow continued to fall as the open vehicle passed along the streets out of the city. A few people were about, but mostly the populace was enjoying the cozy comfort of their homes. Eventually, the distance between homes increased until the terrain had become rural. There was little activity. It seemed that even the farm animals had chosen the warmth of their barns. Fifteen minutes later they passed the first of numerous men, apparently wounded soldiers, on foot heading northward. They wore only rags for clothes. They hobbled northward on crutches or limped alongside of the road, attempting to avoid the ever-increasing banks of snow. The men looked old, far too old for their age. The expressions on their faces were an odd mixture of relief and defeat. Then came others, walking south. These were younger men. Boys really. Youths who were still passing through puberty. Their vitality broadcast the adventure that lay ahead of them. These men were soon to be fighting, and dieing, to defend their country. Sasha began scribbling notes in his ever-present note pad. "There is a sort of sickness in the soul. Above Russia's deathbed hover crows, a raucous, swirling scum." Only Sasha appeared to be affected by the tableau of tragedy. Lockhart and Benckendorff were chatting away about the forthcoming weekend. + + + + + Adrian had already changed into his civilian clothes when Piotr, dressed in his uniform entered the railroad car. The civilian clothing did little to enhance the appearance of the older man, while Piotr's tailor made uniform hugged his body like a dancer's leotard. Every curve and crevice of his buttocks was clearly as visible as though he was wearing nothing. Even though he had tucked his chlen between his legs, it too left little to the imagination. Piotr's cap was pushed back on his head and he wore a brilliant smile. When he spotted Adrian he headed for a seat just across the aisle. A stranger observing the two would not have guessed that they were friends, but the expression upon Adrian's face made it obvious that his interest was more than casual. At least for the moment, the cadet felt he was in control. Then it happened. His chlen began to stretch. The more it stretched, the tighter the binding became; the tighter the binding, the better it felt and the more it stretched for attention. Adrian, observing his friends 'discomfort' struggled to keep from laughing as Piotr attempted to readjust himself. Finally, in desperation, Piotr removed the cap from his head and covered his erection. Then, grabbing his suitcase, he headed for the lavatory. Moments later he returned wearing baggy brown trousers, a loose fitting wool jumper and again resumed his seat across the aisle from Adrian. The two sat silently for a few minutes; then, as though they were strangers, they engaged in conversation which ended when Adrian asked: "Why don't you sit over here and we can play a game of cards?" + + + + + The Wedomosti's touring car was still an hour away when the train made its momentary stop at Vyborg to discharge Adrian and Piotr. The village was a small one. Like St. Petersburg, this little town was adrift in banks of snow. Unlike St. Petersburg, there was no one to clear the roads. According to the instructions that Iveren had given them, they needed to rent a buggy to take them the next four miles to the cabin. When they entered the livery stables they found only one horse available and no buggies or wagons. The old woman who attended to the rental assured them that the animal was strong and sturdy and could easily transport the two of them that short distance. Piotr, being a farm boy, felt comfortable astride the large white animal. Again he felt "in charge" as he beckoned his friend to ride behind him; however, Adrian was not a horsemen. He did not understand the principle of posting. Within minutes Adrian had his arms around Piotr's waist. His hands overlapped and he held himself tightly against the cadet's back. The bouncing and the closeness of his friend caused Piotr's chlen to harden. Simultaneously, Adrian let his hands slip lower until he grasped Piotr's rod. By the time they reached their destination Adrian was in charge. The cabin was not large. It contained only three rooms: Living Room- Kitchen, Bedroom, and bath. The central feature of the first room was the huge fireplace. Even though the cabin was as cold as the outside, or maybe because of it, they headed directly to the bedroom. Before Adrian had removed his shoes, Piotr was laying naked in the center of the bed. His tousled hair contrasted with the pastel color of the pillow. His chlen towered from amidst a pubic forest. "Come on Adrian. Junior has been waiting for your attention for far too long." He grasped the shaft by the base, waving it. "Look it's already drooling for your attention." The older man smiled to himself, thinking: "Baby, it's your ass I'm going to get before this weekend is over." Finally, Adrian was as naked and as aroused as was his bed mate. He laid down upon the bed. Their faces were just inches from one another. He leaned over and lightly ran his tongue along Piotr's neck. Both of their penises responded with a lurch. Piotr placed his hand on the top of Adrian's head; a light pressure sent a message of direction. Control was the name of the game. Piotr was rapidly loosing his. Adrian was not. Nevertheless, the older man's breath kissed its way down to the towering tool. Adrian's focus shifted to the pubic forest. Each hair was magnified by his attention. Just beyond, and out of focus, was the base of the shaft. The odor of sex now filled both of their nostrils. Adrian's tongue lashed out for the captivating ooze, then licked it up. Piotr's shaft responded with a mighty lurch and his hand pushed Adrian's head all the way down until he could feel the hot warmth of breath and throat. The unmistakable sound of the front door of the cabin being opened shocked both of the naval men into action. Adrian grabbed his clothes and ran for the bathroom, followed quickly by Piotr. From behind the latched bathroom door they heard: "Paul, it looks like you already have guests." Benckendorff entered the bedroom noting the mussed condition of the bed then, after trying to open the bathroom door, demanded: "Who is in there? Who are you and what are you doing in my cabin?" Adrian replied, "Iveren Benckendorff said we could use the place over this weekend. Who are you?" Paul's voice receded while addressing the others. "It looks like my uncle told someone they could use the place. And of course he forgot to tell me." Piotr and Adrian had dressed and then somewhat timidly entered the Living Room. Sasha was astonished to see Piotr. Lockhart was astonished to see Adrian. Paul Beckendorff was pleased to see the pot being stirred. It was Lockhart who first guessed the truth. He knew the kind of person that Adrian was. He had overheard the discussions about Piotr and thus, he presumed that the other fellow was the cadet. It was easy to see why the sailor lusted after the cadet. Sasha broke down the barrier of silence. "Veliky! It is nice to see you again. How are you doing? You are still in the Naval Academy are you not?" Piotr blushed when he saw the reporter. His conscience betrayed his guilt. He was certain that he had been caught. Nevertheless, he responded. "Sasha, I have often wondered what happened to you. Yes, I'm still at the Academy... although I may soon be the only one. My class is down to less than half of what it was when I first enrolled." Sasha turned to Lockhart. "Bruce you won't believe this, but this fellow actually started this war. If he hadn't wanted to get laid so badly, if he hadn't wanted so desperately to loose his virginity, the Great War would not have started." Lockhart looked confused, but it was Benckendorff who asked for the entire story. At the end of the tale Lockhart and Benckendorff looked at each other and simultaneously said "Helium. Helium?" And everyone in the room, with the exception of Piotr broke into hysterical fits of laughter. It was then that Adrian misread the situation. Everyone there had some association with The Embers and The Embers was well known for its tolerance of deviant behavior. He presumed that everyone there was either homosexual or bi-sexual or tolerant of those that were. He moved closer to Piotr, put his arm around the boy's waist and hugged him. "Well, we were the first here, so we've got the bedroom. Right?" Piotr turned red and jerked away from Adrian. "I think not! The cabin is Benckendorff's. I'd rather sleep in front of the fireplace." Paul stepped into the breach bridging it: "We will worry about who sleeps where when the time comes. In the meantime let's walk down to the lake and see if it is fishable. If not, then we have an ample supply of Vodka to keep us entertained and we may all end up sleeping in front of the fireplace." Adrian's previous ill-timed wish had been granted. The weather was not suitable for fishing. The second part of his wish; however, was not granted. He was not to be alone with his Piotr. Sasha and Piotr were constantly engaged in conversation; sharing the adventures of the Standart. Bruce Lockhart used this opportunity to improve his relationship with Adrian. They discussed many things, but Lockhart went to extremes to stay away from military subjects. Paul Benckendorff played the disinterested host, implementing and furthering the wishes of his guests. All five of the men lay on the floor in front of the fireplace. They had emptied their fourth bottle of Vodka and everyone was feeling pleasantly in harmony; but it wasn't until late in the night when the embers in the fireplace were dimming to a gentle red glow that Piotr thought he saw Adrian lay his head in Lockhart's lap. It was not a concealed move; yet, to the cadet it was a covert one. The significance of Adrian's position did not escape Lockhart. The Vodka, the warmth of the fireplace and the imagined images of Adrian sucking on Piotr's petooshock had their effect. The lump in Lockhart's crotch had increased and then taken shape. Adrian could feel the head of Lockhart's chlen nudging his left ear. He moved his head slightly and the rod pulsed. Lockhart moved his fingers through the sailor's hair to increase the pressure against his tool. As the last ember decayed into nothingness and the room descended into darkness, Adrian turned on to his side. The warmth that radiated against his lips was a mere layer of cloth away. Lockhart's thoughts drifted back to his early days as a schoolboy. He slowly unbuttoned his fly releasing his captive tool and yielded to his fantasies. It was much later that night when Piotr felt Sasha shake his shoulder. "Come on. No sense in the bed going to waste." He helped the cadet to his feet and guided him out of the living room. In the dim shadows he could see that Adrian had moved closer to the fireplace while Lockhart had drawn his fur coat tightly around himself. Still half-asleep, Piotr stripped down to his underwear and slipped beneath the blankets. Sasha wrapped himself in his fur coat and laid on top of the bed. It was still early in the morning when Piotr again felt himself being awakened. "I've had enough sleep. Are you up to a hike down to the lake?" Quietly, they crept out of the bedroom and the cabin and headed down the well-marked trail. "So, how are you doing at the academy? Are they keeping yourself busy?" Piotr looked toward the lake, stretched a bit and then replied: "Pretty well, I guess. But my class is less than half the size it should be --and the senior class is almost non-existent. They've put in a new policy for early graduation for those with a B average or above. In the lower classes they are using grade averages to weed students out. --Out and into the navy as enlisted men." Sasha, paused for a moment, then asked: "Your friend Adrian: He's in the office of the Chief of Naval Operations?" Piotr nodded his head "Yes". "Does CNOP have anything to do with drafting from the academy?" Piotr nodded 'yes' again, then added: "The draft list originates at CNOP, and is passed down to the Academy." Sasha had never been known for his diplomacy, he asked: "And is that the reason you are with Adrian? Can he keep you off of the list?" Piotr's face started to turn red. He didn't know how to answer the question. The reporter had been right on target. He realized there was no point in denying the obvious. "I guess that makes me a whore doesn't it?" Sasha chuckled: "In one way or another we all are whores. We trade parts of ourselves to attain goals. Sometimes it's just our time, other times it's our souls. Trading your chlen isn't much different than accepting money in exchange for working. "I'd be careful though. Adrian's ability to help you is because of the work he does for CNOP. He's only an enlisted man. If he's transferred to another job, then you no longer have a protector. "Have you been staying in touch with the Imperial Family?" Piotr shook his head "No." Then added, "I wanted to become a naval officer on my own. At first some of my class-mates tried to make me believe that only aristocrats should be naval officers and that I was there only because of Tatiana. Studying has taken most of my free time and, of course, there have been occasional weekends with Adrian." Again Piotr was silent as they made their way along the pathway. He continued: "I think I may have made a mistake. The Tsarevich has always treated me with great regard and so has Tatiana." Sasha said: "Well there is nothing wrong with keeping both relationships going. If nothing else, you might write a short note to the Czarina, explaining how busy you have been, and apologize for your inability to stay in contact with them. Then at the end ask her to give your fondest regards to Aleksey and Tatiana." The surface of the lake looked like a silver platter ringed in green pine trees. The sky had turned bright with a few billowy clouds drifting above. There were a few children dressed in brightly colored sweaters doing figure-eights on ice skates. The two men looked toward the children and felt the warmth of camaraderie that comes from simply liking one another. As they walked back toward the cabin Sasha said: "You know the Romanov's are going through a rough period. If anything goes wrong anywhere in the world it is blamed on Nicholas. There are more political factions vying for power than anyone can imagine ... and all at the expense of the Imperial Family. "The war has not gone well. A good number of our soldiers came from our farms. Now there is not enough food for everyone. Many people are without jobs. To add to the misery, our war wounded are simply 'going home' and not being taken care of. "The suicide rate has tripled, when in other countries at war it has fallen. Two out of three perpetrators are under twenty-eight. Marriages collapse as elderly men discard their wives and flaunt their younger successors in the eyes of society. "Have you observed that no one understands the story of Anna Karenina nowadays? Today, Anna would immediately have divorced her husband and married Vronsky and there the story would have ended." As they approached the cabin Paul Benckendorff waved at them while he strapped a suitcase to the back of the touring car. "This weekend hasn't been much for fishing... Well that sort of thing happens from time to time." Then addressing Piotr he said, "Adrian asked if you two could travel back with us. There's plenty of room as long as we strap your cases to the back. "Bruce is making breakfast, so go in and have some, then afterward we might just as well head back to St. Petersburg." + + + + + March 1915 Petrograd (St. Petersburg) Russia + + + + + For the past week the Czarina and her children had been living in the Winter Palace so as to be close to her husband. Olga found the city more interesting than rural Tsarskoye Selo. However Aleksey missed his toys, particularly his movie projector and the photographic dark room he had so painstakingly constructed in a basement storage room of the Alexander Palace. Dinner had been delayed by an hour. Their father was still at army headquarters discussing the situation in Prussia. It was nearly eight o'clock when the Czar finally shed his official responsibilities and took his place at the head of the table in the family dining room. The Czarina, sitting at the opposite end of the table, spoke first: "I have received a most delightful letter from young Piotr. Even though it is addressed to me, I suspect it is meant for both Tatiana and Aleksey." A serving girl entered the room and as she proceeded to ladle out soup the Czarina continued: "Your Imperial Highness: First let me thank you for the many kindnesses you showed me while I was on the Standart. Second, I must apologize for not writing to you before. The academy has dominated my life; there is little time for anything else. But it is a good life, especially for someone who is not an aristocrat. "The war has taken its toll on the school, a great number of the senior students have seen early graduation to become officers in the fleet. For the rest of us, it is a constant battle to keep our grades up else we find ourselves drafted as enlisted men back to the fleet. "Nevertheless my hard work has paid off and I remain at the top of my class. "At the moment we are studying military tactics, comparing recent sea battles between the Germans and the English. One of our instructors made the observation that it appears that luck is more responsible for the English victory in the Falkin Isle's than any other factor. Neither side had shown any ingenuity. The Germans had relied on the superior quality of their ships, while the English had relied on their numbers. "Anyway, I digress. I simply wanted you and your family to know that your past kindness and efforts on my behalf have not gone without my appreciation. "Please give my fondest regards to your children, especially Aleksey and Tatiana. "I remain forever in your debt. Your humble servant, Pitor Veliky." Nicholas had burned his tongue with the soup and sat back somewhat disgruntled. "Veliky! My god is he still in St. Petersburg? I thought the naval academy would have made short shrift of him." Tatiana, taking no notice of her father's attitude, said: "Oh Papa, can we have him to dinner." Taking his spoon back in hand, he attempted another mouthfull of the broth while mumbling, "It's war time you know... we haven't time for such frivolity. Besides the boy just said he is inundated with his studies. "Aleksey, we have not been doing well in our efforts on the Prussian front. I am quite disappointed in your uncle, Mikhail. For more than a year he has been in my ear about how good a military leader he would be. There have been reports from the front that the most effective leaders have been mere boys; early graduates from the military academy. "I am arranging a trip to the front within a few weeks to see first hand what's going on. I'd like for you to accompany me." "But Nicholas," The Czarina injected, "Would that not be dangerous?" The Tsarevich managed a smile and a nod of the head in response to a kick in the leg from Alex-P/Catherine. Later that night the two boys developed a plan. If Alex-P joined the Czar on the trip to Prussia, that would allow Alex-T to do something else... just as long as he wasn't with the family. At first it was just speculation... then the idea developed, Alex-T disguised as one of the twins would return to Gdov and spend the week at Camp Sunshine with Yaslov. Hopefully he could begin to plan his movie. Actually the elapsed time was only ten days, not two weeks. Alex-P and Alex-T had changed places a week before the Czar's departure for Prussia. Then the two boys had faked a telegram from Rasputin giving Catherine permission to visit Gdov. Catherine would be away from the palace while Alex-P as the Tsarevich would be at the front. Early on the day of their departure Catherine was taken into town to board the train southwest to Camp Sunshine. Four hours later the Czar, accompanied by his son, boarded the Imperial Train for its four- hundred-mile trip west to Gizycko. At five in the afternoon, at the prompting of her daughter, the Czarina sent a note to the Naval Academy inviting cadet Piotr Veliky to lunch on Saturday. The messenger delivered the invitation to a guard at the office of the Chief of Naval Operations, who in turn telephoned CNOP's secretary. Adrian swore to himself as he read the short note from the Czarina. He was not about to endanger his career by diverting the letter, so he personally hand carried it to the cadet barracks where he left it with the duty officer. + + + + + March 1915 The Imperial Train Russia + + + + + Nicholas the second, Czar of all of the Russias, was seated at his ornate desk at the back of the special car which was his home on wheels. He had been reading the daily report from the Okrahana. His response to what he read were snorts of disgust and disbelief. In response to these sounds, his son Aleksey asked him to share the report with him. Going back to the beginning of the document he read: "Work accidents are commonplace. I, for one, never enter a factory without first making the sign of the cross. Workers are prey to intestinal and lung disease, and to speculators. Flour has doubled in price since the start of the war, sugar has risen four times, aspirin fifty times. The people feel that merchants and shopkeepers are building up huge profits at the expense of the common citizen. "An intercepted dispatch from the French ambassador reports that not a day passes in the zone of the Russian armies when a Jew isn't hanged on a trumped-up charge of spying. The Army is deporting Jews in scores of thousands from the areas behind the front, resulting in these nomads wandering over the snows, driven like cattle by platoons of Cossacks, abandoned at the stations, camping in the open around the towns and dying of hunger, weariness, and cold. The Army's response to any criticism is that these people are hoarding food which the soldiers need. Yet the obvious is overlooked. These Jews are starving. I am certain the real motive is lust. Lust for the younger Jewish girls, and lust for the property of the Jews. It is reported that these people have hidden wealth amongst them. If that is true then the question comes back to why are they starving?" Alex-P interrupted Nicholas: "Father, could that be true? Certainly Uncle Mikhail would not allow such a thing." "I suspect your uncle is too full of himself to be aware of anything beyond his sight." The monarch laid the report down on the desk, rose, and said: "We will look into this matter once we have had a chance to see what else is wrong; what else is preventing us from winning this damnable war. We out-number our foes, yet victory seems to be slipping from our grasp." He looked at his son, pleased by what he saw. The boy was rapidly becoming a man, a handsome adolescent. For just a moment he saw himself at the same age, and wondered if the boy had yet discovered the delights that lay beneath a woman's skirts. Almost as an after thought he wondered what games Aleksey and Raspustin's niece might be playing. He vowed to see that the boy was given more freedom to experience life. He wanted his son to have more freedom than had he. Sadly he recognized that those wishes were beyond the reach of even the most powerful man in Russia. Leadership was a mantle cast upon him by virtue of his birth. It weighed heavily upon his shoulders. And so must it descend to Aleksey. Nicholas sighed loudly and returned to his desk to read a report written by Mikhail's aide, Major Andreas. The style was clearly not that of his brother. He hoped that it had more substance and less excuse. "Our intelligence reports that General of the German South Army Linsingen has been in a feud with the German high command and this division in tactical views has allowed us to make headway against the enemy forces; but, it appears that this hiatus is about to come to an end. The Kaiser has interceded on behalf of Lisingen, so it is likely that we may be up against a more formidable foe. We are taking advantage of our occupation of the Masuria Lakes region to press onward toward the Carpathians by sending an expeditionary force south." The Czar, while still holding the report, looked out of the window. It seemed to him that the rain, which had been falling most of the day was getting heavier. He walked over to a map fastened to the wall, located Gizycho, then traced a finger down to the Carpathian Mountains. Again he sighed to himself, he wondered how many men were in the expeditionary force. + + + + + Camp Sunshine Gdov + + + + + This was really the first time that Aleksey (Alex-T) had ever been alone on his own and it was somewhat frightening. He had even wondered if he would have difficulty renting a carriage, but, upon his arrival in Gdov, discovered that a taxi would not only be more readily available, but also less expensive. He had written ahead to Yars telling him of his intended visit. The letter contained no return address, so it was with a high degree of insecurity that he approached Camp Sunshines main gate. The same old man was still at his post, but this time his arrival appeared to be expected. The gate was swung open as they turned off the road. The driver waved at the guard and just continued down the path to the parking area. He half expected to see the same hired hand when the driver pulled to a stop. To his surprise Yaslov greeted him. After paying the driver, he walked over to the watering trough and asked, "So, I gather you received my letter?" Yars laughed at him, pointing to his hair and commented: "Well, I see you've returned as a blonde. You need to take your clothes off now. We can stash them in your cabin. How long do you expect to be with us?" The cab had disappeared around the bend and Alex-T began removing his clothes, starting with his shoes and socks. He handed each item of clothing to Yars who placed them inside of a pillowcase. "I'd like to stay for at least two weeks. Are you still making it with those two school chums of yours?" "Ah ha. The real reason you came back now surfaces." Alex-T's chlen betrayed him as he denied the accusation. Yars laughed, then did a most unexpected thing. He flicked the head of Alex's penis with his index finger. The painful impact caused the organ to collapse. "You'd better get that under control before we go into the compound." Alex asked Yars if he had ever seen a motion picture. The boy had heard about them in school but Gdov was too small to have a movie theater, so the answer was 'no'. Alex then told him that he had a friend who had a private movie theater in his home. Yars couldn't imagine such a thing. "Who would have a house large enough to contain a movie theater?" Then Alex continued his tale: "Not only does he have a theater, he's getting a movie camera. I helped him build a darkroom in his basement." Yar's father greeted Alex as they entered the compound. "Ah, young Kokoroff did you come on your own? I expected to see your uncle and your brother. Are they going to join us later?" Alex explained that his uncle was on a trip to the Url Mountians and would be gone for several weeks. Thus he and his brother were to stay with friends in St. Petersburg. Peter had elected to stay in the city, but he, Alex, had talked his uncle into allowing him to spend the time at Camp Sunshine. While the real Tsarevich was settling into a pleasant routine at the seashore, his replica was watching the Czar pour over maps of the Carpathian Mountains. The Imperial train slowed to a stop and began loading both water and fire wood for the engine. Alex-P had been sitting in a chair, overlooking the small depot. Two rather handsome girls were offering fruit and cakes to the railroad crew. He asked: "Father could I have a few kopeks to buy some cakes?" Nicholas shook his head, "It wouldn't be safe. You never know what the revolutionaries are going to do next." Then he also looked out the window. He smiled to himself, realizing it wasn't the food that his son was interested in. He reached into his pocket, handed the boy almost two rubles in change. "If I were a few years younger I'd probably try to ... " he paused, then continued conveying a meaning that went beyond his words. "I'd probably be interested in some of that." Alex blushed as he realized what the Czar was really saying. Then he grinned and said: "We won't be here long enough to get anything else." The boy hurried through the door while Nicholas wondered how Aleksey would look bedding a girl. Alex returned a few minutes later carrying a wicker basket containing a variety of fruits. Just as they were again getting underway a soldier entered, "Your Imperial Highness, this message was just received." The man bowed, then exited whence he had come. "Hmmmm. This is interesting. Aleksey, it appears that Mikhail's forces are moving south toward Slovakia." Quite suddenly the car was submerged in darkness while the sound of the engine beat mercilessly in their ears. Before they could find a light switch the train emerged from the tunnel, then began a labored ascent. + + + + + On Wednesday Piotr's classes were devoted to the conduct of officers when visiting a foreign port. He was the only one who had ever had any experience at sea and thus his fellow students attempted to pry nonexistent tales of seduction from him. By the time he was finished with his last class, his libido had been put into high gear. As soon as the trumpeter had blown "lights out", he had quietly made his way across the base to the senior enlisted quarters. He had knocked on Adrian's door, but there had been no response. As he turned to leave, a man came down the hallway dressed only in his undershorts and wearing a towel around his neck. He said: "I think Adrian has gone into town. I saw him leave just before dinner." Piotr thanked him, then the man added. "He must have a girl stashed away. He's been out every night for the past week." Now it was Friday and still no sign of Adrian. It seemed that a damper had been put on their relationship and that was bothering Piotr. That momentary tableau at the cabin when Adrian had his head in Lockhart's lap kept flashing into his mind. If anyone had accused him of being jealous he would have denied it. Yet this turn in their relationship was irksome. Even though he had yet to have dinner, he again walked over to Adrian's quarters. Due to the early hour it was necessary for him to go past the officer in charge of quarters. Before the man could challenge him, he asked if Adrian was in. The man shook his head and said: "All of the CNOP personnel are on alert this weekend. Passes have been canceled. He's probably still at the Admiralty." Piotr felt lonely. He did not want to spend the weekend by himself. His thoughts turned to Sasha. As soon as he had returned to his quarters he changed into the civilian clothes he had worn on their weekend at the mountain cabin. Then he left the base. He waited at the trolley stop. Even though he had been in The Embers only that once, he had gathered from snippets of conversation that Sasha frequented the establishment. It took nearly an hour, two trolleys, and a short walk before he arrived. The same uniformed doorman stood outside. The man knew most of The Embers regular customers by sight, but he did not recognize Piotr. Once the boy had passed through the entrance the doorman picked up a telephone, pushed a button, then advised Iveren of the new customer's arrival. Iveren had been looking for a bill that needed to be paid and thus delayed meeting his new guest. Piotr turned right into the small room. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, then he spotted Sasha, sitting alone, at a corner table sipping a glass of red wine. He walked directly to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. The reporter was surprised to see the cadet, but welcomed the company. They had been sharing tales for most of the evening. Piotr wondered why he had come to The Embers. Sasha's interest in him could not be expected to result in an invitation to spend the night. The cadet was about to bid his friend good-bye when Paul Benckendorff joined them, and offered to buy a round. After the three settled into a comfortable conversation, Paul apologized for the mix up at the cabin, then added "The weather had not been suitable for fishing anyway. "Tomorrow I must take the train to Gdov. My wife's sister's daughter has been visiting my cousin for almost a month. The sea shore is pleasant this time of year, but I don't relish going alone." Piotr asked: "How long does it take?" "Just a few hours. But it's not just the railroad trip that I don't like, it's that since my cousin Ernst died from typhoid, the place hasn't seemed like much fun." Sasha commented: "I haven't been to the sea shore since I was in Yalta." "Would you and Piotr care to join me? The water temperature should make for pleasant bathing and the beaches are isolated enough for sunning one's self in the all-together. In fact there is a nudist beach within walking distance." This was the answer to Piotr's loneliness. "Oh yes. I'd love to." Sasha, however, declined: "I'm on the city desk this weekend. Sorry." He noticed the smile dissolve from the cadet's face. "Paul, just because I cannot join you is no reason that Piotr should not. I've known him for well over a year and he is a most pleasant companion." This was exactly what Paul had been hoping for. It was an opportunity to learn more about the cadet and his connection with the Imperial Family. The only problem would be his uncle. He understood Iveren's interest in the boy and he did not want to make him envious. The only solution would be to invite Iveren to join them. "Well then it is settled. Meet me at the railway station tomorrow morning at seven." "Paul, I have a problem. If I return to the base I'm likely to be given a duty assignment. I need a place to spend the night." Suddenly Paul saw the complete answer to his problem; he would ask his uncle to let Piotr sleep in his office. Before midnight the bar had thinned out. Sasha had gone home. Paul was about to do the same. Piotr yawned a couple of times, then Iveren told the boy to come with him to his office. Later, when he wanted to go to sleep he could just go up stairs and make himself comfortable on the divan. The cadet yawned again and said he thought he should do it now, else he would not be up to the train trip on the morrow. As the fat man closed the door to his office behind them he said: "I wish I could go with you to Gdov, but alas, I cannot. The weekends are our busiest period." Together they lifted the edge of the couch and, as if by magic, it turned into a bed. "Sometimes I sleep here when we have a busy day. I doubt if I will have a chance to sleep in my own bed before Monday." Piotr looked a little surprised. "Will you be sleeping here as well?" "Probably not. We are in a lull right now, but soon the place will be crowded again. I probably will not be able to go to bed before you leave tomorrow." Somewhat relieved Piotr began to remove his clothing. Iveren found an excuse to leaf through papers on his desk. His chlen lengthened and then tented his trousers as he watched the boy prepare for bed. Cute buttocks, nice sized bulge, beautifully naked chest. He was sorely tempted to offer the boy a back massage, but just then the buzzer sounded on his desk. He lifted the telephone. The doorman informed him that a party of six had arrived. Iveren rose from his chair. Piotr was not surprised at the tented trousers. In fact his own chlen had risen. He would have preferred someone else to do the deed, but it seemed he was fated to take care of the chore himself. The room plunged into darkness as almost simultaneously the sound of the light switch merged with that of the door closing. All author22 books are available in paperback from Amazon.com, and are also available as with colorful illustration in html format for viewing on your own PC, or in Franklin Rocket-eBook format. Contact author22@aol.com for further information.