Date: Sun, 21 Oct 2007 00:12:14 -0400
From: carl_mason@comcast.net
Subject: THE NEW EARTH - 05

THE NEW EARTH - 5

Copyright 2007 by Carl Mason

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or
by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without the written
permission of the author.  "The New Earth" is strictly fictional.  Any resemblance
to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  As in
real life, however, sexual themes unfold gradually.  Comments on the story are
appreciated and may be addressed to the author at carl_mason@comcast.net

If you would like to read additional stories by this author, please turn to the
"Authors/Prolific Authors" link at the beginning of the Nifty Archive or in the left
margin of the Gay stories index.

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both adults
and teenagers.   As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the personal
enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults.  If you are not of legal age to read
such material, if those in power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or
if it would create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave.  Finally,
remember that maturity generally demands safe sex.


CHAPTER 5

(Revisiting Chapter 4)

Justin never saw the abbot or his fellow monks again.  That night Tacian soldiers broke
into the underground sanctuary and freed many Terran and Tacian prisoners despite
violent opposition.  As he was being tenderly carried away by his Tacian buddies from
the Orestes, noting how good the fresh air smelled, he heard great explosions behind
him and surmised that the temple was no more.  During the days that followed, he
learned that the last enemy strongholds had been wiped out on the day he was freed.
Five weeks of death and destruction...  What lie ahead?

(Continuing Our Story:  The Price of Victory)

In the light of late afternoon, four buddies hiked along a country road.  (To his great
displeasure, Tycho had drawn guard duty!)  Had it not been for the somewhat alien light
of the Canmuton "sun," Justin would have felt right at home.  They were quite safe, for
NO ONE seemed to have the taste for more killing...at least for the moment.  Besides, a
guy just had to get some exercise!  As they walked along - kicking at an occasional
stone, jumping up and grabbing an occasional leaf from an overhanging branch,
suddenly goosing a friend and quickly sprinting ahead to avoid retaliation - Justin's
Tacian buddies caught him up on the campaign after he had been captured.

"You don't know what you missed!" Eros exclaimed loudly.  "Before we were through, it
was hand-to-hand on Forscher's Ridge, as well as in most other places on this damned
planet!  The casualties were frightening...on both sides.  And when that third volcano
blew..."  Tarshi, usually the gung ho marine in the pack, said solemnly, "You have to
wonder if it was worth it...at such a price."  Trudging down the single street of a tiny
country village, they fell silent.  Most dwellings were shuttered against them.  Passing
the last house, Damian commented on the numbers of orphans they saw everywhere...
increasingly tragic in view of the vast numbers of adults slain.  All agreed that "leaving
them at the side of the road" was one of the hardest things they were forced to do.
Justin growled that he was going to serve as an erastes when his service ended.
Throwing a stone at a large black bird, Tarshi muttered that he hoped to get married,
but wondered if they authorities would create some homes for these kids.

There were, of course, the continuing disagreements about the indiscriminate use of
casmitic weapons in the campaign - both among the military and at home.  A minority
still maintained that it had lengthened it and much increased its bitterness.  In truth,
however, when that which had been a rumor was established as fact, the minority grew
considerably smaller.  Namely, it was discovered that half of all newborns among the
Terran captives were raised for food - and that the tongues of ALL Terran births were
automatically removed.  While never announced, this had been the policy for all two
hundred years of Earth's subjugation.  No high-ranking Canmuton officials were alive to
deny the evidence preserved in documents and offered by countless observers.  As
noted previously, nearly fifty thousand of the 250,000 Terran captives on Canmuto at
the time of the invasion lived through the conflict and were repatriated to Earth.  This
included only a handful of infants and young children.  Most of the captives, even young
men in their early 20s, were totally unfit for military service.

(The Case of Attia)

With Canmuto - or at least what was left of it - under control, the eyes of the Allied High
Command turned to the vassal states of Attia and Serium.  Typical of most bodies in
this part of the galaxy, Attia - closer to Canmuto - was a desert planet.  (Canmuto was
probably the most well-off of the group, for it did have water and some soil, however
rocky.)  The former Tacian ambassador to Attia suggested that it had become a planet
of intergalactic traders, for its own resources could barely support the life that was
there.  He also said that it had always been dependent on trade with Canmuto for its
existence.

The Canmuton action hadn't even ended when feelers began to be received from
several sources on Attia.  For instance, they pointed out that they had left the conflict
after the Battle of the Moons - that their openly moored ships kept in their slips, as well
as the absence of an aggressive missile defense, established their good intentions.

At the time that those messages were received, there was no proof that they came from
Attian leaders and, besides, the Allied forces were still engaged.  They were not
answered, though patrols were increased over the planet.  As soon as the High
Command issued word that the Canmuton action had been concluded, however, Allied
representatives were promptly invited by the Attian High Council to a meeting in their
capital city. There they would have full and unrestricted access to Terran captives.  To
quote the Attian authorities, "Hopefully, in a comfortable, collegial, and receptive
atmosphere, they would be able to forge mutually beneficial agreements."

The Allied representatives included the Field Marshal (as Chairperson), Admiral Sir
John Jeffers, Commandant of the Allied Forces at the Battle of the Moons), Dr. Heinz
(Heinrich) P. Braun (President of the Terran Federation), and Kanta Lo (Former Tacian
Ambassador to Attia).  To keep the party manageable, they were restricted to one
assistant each.  Justin could hardly believe his good fortune when the Field Marshal
said that he needed his Adjutant at his side.  They were met personally at the Attian
capital's spaceport by Attianmeur VII (Seznich [Prince] of Attia), his Foreign Minister,
and his Minister of Economics.  No military personnel were in the welcoming party.  All
were dressed in flowing white robes considerably more comfortable in the heat and
brilliant sun than the western dress of the Allied delegation.  Comfortable air cars
quickly transported the party to the Royal Palace and Government Center some
distance outside the small city.  Though Justin's face was plastered against the car
window the whole way, he didn't see much of the countryside.  Dr.  Braun smiled and
commented that it looked much like Morocco.  The Field Marshal's Adjutant nodded
seriously and thanked him with one of his patented grins.  Looking at the young man
with a perfectly straight face, the Field Marshal simply winked.  His boy was already
learning the ways of diplomacy!

Justin was quite taken with the Palace as the air cars landed softly in a great courtyard.
Flowers were everywhere; naked slaves - most Terran, all handsome and magnificently
built - quickly moved them into a building of great arches, open hallways, and bright
colors.  The thick walls kept the hot dessert air at bay, though, overall, there was a
feeling of lightness and air.  In accord with the Prince's wishes that they have a period
to freshen up and relax, they were shown immediately to their rooms.  Rooms - ha!
They were shown to suites suitable for royalty.  Justin was himself quartered in a suite
of three rooms that was connected to the Field Marshal's small palace!  As he entered
his quarters, smiling slaves took his small case and immediately began to unpack his
clothing and supplies.  A beautiful young man of perhaps sixteen or seventeen, naked,
evidently in charge of his personal staff, knelt before him and asked if he might
"prepare a bath for the Master".  Somewhat dazed, Justin nodded his assent, upon
which he was led into the smallest of his three rooms.  Richly tiled, a small pool stood at
the very center, surrounded by flowers growing in great jardinieres and lighted by an
overhead window.  Four absolutely stunning young boys began to remove his clothes.
When he was naked, they helped him into the pool of warm, scented water and began
to use their hands to wash his body with a liquid soap of the same exquisite fragrance.
As Justin began to moan and tremble with pleasure, they laughed happily and even
played a few games with their fingers on his skin.  (This was stopped quickly by their
supervisor who clapped his hands and fixed them with a steely glare.)  "Who are you?"
Justin asked the young ones.

"I'm Robby," a cute redhead giggled, and "I'm Pat," another cutie cut in.  Robby
proceeded to introduce Iggy and Jason, the remaining members of the pool crew, each
as perfect as the others.  Noticing that Justin was beginning to "react" to their
attentions, Robby said, "Oops!  It's time for your massage, Master.  Thank you, Master."
Holding his hands, all four made their way over to the side of the pool and helped him
climb out.  Gregg, the Head Boy, and Steve, another handsome and well-built late teen,
were waiting with enormous towels with which they thoroughly dried him.  When they
were finished, Gregg bowed and, eyes cast down, asked if he might have the pleasure
of massaging the Master.  Believe that the next half hour defied description!  The only
problem - if, indeed, there was one - is that it left him horny as a Billy Goat and hot for
action.  Had he only known that all he had to do was to ask!

Returning to his luxuriously appointed sitting room, he found another young slave -
perhaps fourteen or fifteen - waiting for him, kneeling, and holding a silver tray laden
with small snacks.  Several kinds of fruit juice were also available on a side table.  He
was so taken with the lad that he actually circled him.  From every angle, he was
exquisite: a sturdy body, approximately 5'5" in height, a head of soft hair so golden that
it reminded him of the ripe wheat on his father's farm, unblemished skin already
stretched tightly over his muscular frame...so fair that it could only be possessed by a
blond.  His relatively thick torso was surmounted by excellent shoulders; his well-
developed cock lay partially erect between muscled thighs.  Even slightly flushed, the
stunning beauty of his features was only approached by a very few of the greatest
statues of the Classic Age.

The lad trembled when Justin accepted a few of the tidbits from the tray.  "Why are you
shaking, buddy?" the Marshal's brown-haired adjutant asked.  "You're in no danger
from me."  In a somewhat breathless voice, the youngster answered, "Oh, Master, I
don't fear you.  It's just on this planet where all my friends are manly and beautiful, I've
never seen anyone to equal you!"  Pausing for a moment, his face turned even redder
as he added, "I beg your forgiveness, Master, for being so forward, but I watched you
as you were being bathed and massaged with oil.  Now I see you right before me.  I like
your voice...and the way you look at me."  His voice trailed off in confusion...  Seeing
his eyes begin to tear, Justin took his tray and laid it down on the table.  Kneeling down
he placed his hand on the youth's rounded shoulder and in a low voice asked, "Did you
ever consider that you might have the same effect on me?  You, my young friend, are
absolutely...spectacular."  "Thank you, Master," the boy replied.  (Pause.)  "You say,
'my young friend'.  Could we be friends?"  "I hope so," Justin whispered.  "I'm Justin, by
the way...and you are?"  "I'm Danny, Master."  With that exchange, the youth finally
relaxed...slightly...and they began a more informal conversation about life in the Great
Palace of Attia.

"So Gregg leaves tomorrow and Steve takes over as Head Boy.  Where's Gregg
going?"  "No one knows for sure, Master, but the Chamberlain says that he's going to a
far better place with cool breezes, water, and no sandstorms.  Everyone goes when
they're seventeen.  I'm fourteen...fifteen in five months," he added with a note of pride
in his voice.  "All you boys are Terrans, like me?" Justin asked.  "Yes, Master...for your
pleasure - except Iggy, but he came from Mithros.  That was an Earth colony before the
damned Canmutons came.  Sorry Master..."  Justin ruffled the youngster's hair and
asked, "You don't like the Canmutons, Danny?"  "No, SIR!" the blond-haired one
responded.  "Who'd like people who kill captives and eat them?"  "Yeah," Justin said
under his breath.  "Who'd like people like that?"  Just before the sound of a gong was
heard, Danny added, "Iggy was sure lucky that the Seznich saw him and bought him!"

"Sorry, Master, but that was the signal that the Seznich awaits you and your friends in
the Great Library.  After I've helped you dress, I'll show you the way."  Red-faced, the
boy rose, his cock still at half mast.  Justin gave him a hand and allowed the lad to haul
him to his feet.  "Pretty good, muscles!" Justin chuckled, swinging the boy towards him.
As their naked bodies came together, Justin felt the lad's cock snap hard erect between
his thighs.  He rubbed his shoulders and his back for a moment before bending down
and kissing him.  "You'll come back?" Danny murmured tearfully.  Embracing the
sobbing youngster, Justin said simply, "Yes, my new friend, I'm coming back."

Approaching the library, Justin encountered the Marshal who appeared to be finishing a
deep conversation with the Seznich's Minister of Economics.  He quickly entered the
richly paneled room to be joined by Alexios only minutes later.  They only had a
moment, for the Prince was already to be seen at the door, laughing with the former
Tacian Ambassador, Kanta Lo.  "Something is terribly wrong here, sir," he whispered.
"You may be right, Justin, but be very, very careful," the Field Marshal responded.
"Never forget that we are on a diplomatic mission with thousands of lives at stake.
Also, however, gracious our host, we are somewhat outnumbered on this planet."
Justin nodded as the Prince walked into the room.  Dressed in rich robes of white, royal
blue, and gold, he made his way between the comfortable chairs that were drawn up so
that each person could see the others, shaking hands, exchanging a word or two with
the participants, pausing for a good minute when he reached the Marshal, and then
moving to his chair.

"Good evening, gentlemen," the Seznich said cordially.  "Welcome to my home.  I trust
that you have already sampled a few of its pleasures."  Restrained chuckles met his wit-
laced greeting.  "Good.  Before we move on to dinner, I thought it might be useful to
have a relatively brief, informal conversation.  I am hoping that each of us might
succinctly raise questions and pose problems that he feels we must address if our
efforts are to bear success.  For instance, I would suggest that we must bear in mind
that further bloodshed is simply impossible to contemplate."  The Field Marshal
suggested that necessary changes in galactic conditions demanded that Attia's
economic stability be protected - and so it went around the room.  Increasingly irritated
that little attention was being given to the condition of the Terran slaves, Justin
departed from the diplomatic caution that had characterized earlier remarks.  Rather, he
asked the Seznich directly if he would comment briefly on the captives' condition and
care - and, more inflammatorily, if they were being treated as they had been on
Canmuto.  The Seznich stiffened, his face darkened, and he began to rise, his hand on
the pommel of his sword.  Quickly Alexios rose and begged the Prince's understanding.
His adjutant had been captured in the fighting completed recently and was being
prepared for sacrifice.  In fact, he (the Marshal) had been told that the white cloak
signaled the youth was next in line.  Further, the Terran Federation had unimpeachable
evidence that fifty percent of Terran births were being raised for food and that all
captive Terrans were mutilated.  He had to admit that if he were young and passionate,
he might have difficulty in retaining a... 'balanced' outlook on matters before them.

The Allied Chairperson's comments barely assuaged the Prince's anger, though he did
take his hand off his sword.  Nevertheless, as he paced back and forth, he loudly
rejected the thought that ANYONE could believe that he or his people would resort to
such barbarity.  Flushing deeper, he wondered if any State represented in the room was
without serious problems.  On Attia, the population could not increase because of its
limited resources for sustaining life.  An impressive number of adult slaves were
preserved due to their being needed to handle cargo and other processes connected
with their trade.  When one retired or died, he was replaced.  Flawless infants in a
group that bred heavily were taken into the Palace and had a good life.  True, the
population had to be controlled, but to think that they would mutilate and consume their
captives was...impossible!  Far better to be humanely euthanized at birth, at 17, or
when no longer able to contribute to the general good.  Running out of adrenalin, the
Seznich suddenly seemed to realize what he was saying, blanched, and ground to a
heavy halt.  His dinner guests could scarcely believe what they were hearing.  Indeed, it
was improbable that any of them could easily digest the festive meal that awaited.

It was nearly midnight when a worried Alexios saw Justin to his door.  "It's impossible,
my love, to know how this will work out.  Be on your guard until we know," he
counseled.  Entering a pitch-black room, Justin took about four steps before he partially
stumbled over a figure sound asleep on the carpet.  Kneeling down, he groped around
until he felt a muscular young man who was just shaking himself awake.  "Oh, Master,"
Danny said with so much joy that it almost illuminated the room, "You did come back!  I
didn't hurt you, lying here?  I just wasn't going to miss you if...when you returned."  With
a small growl deep in his throat, Justin simply picked up the golden-haired youth and
carried him into his bedroom.

About to leave for breakfast fairly early in the morning, Justin looked down on the
superb creature who was still sound asleep in the middle of his completely destroyed
bed.  He sniffed at the raunchy odors that rose from the disheveled bedding.  With a
laugh, he admitted to himself that they hadn't had much sleep.  In fact, there had been
something of a contest to see who could wear whom out first.  Obviously, he had
won...but not by much.  Quietly closing the door behind him, he hadn't gone far before
someone softly called his name.  Turning around, he saw the Prince, hurrying to catch
up with him.  "Your Highness," he said, bowing slightly.

"Mr.  Lawrence," the Seznich replied, puffing slightly.  "I'm glad I caught you before
breakfast.  I owe you an apology, sir.  My behavior last night towards you was
inexcusable.  Further, I brought into question successfully completing a treaty that is
vitally important to my people."  "Ahhh, your Highness," the young soldier responded,
somewhat taken by surprise.  "I think my boss, the Field Marshal, disagrees about
whose behavior was 'inexcusable'.  I can only accept your generous words and promise
to do everything in my power to make sure we reach the agreement we all desire."

"I do agree that words without action are empty," the Prince continued as color came
back into his face.  "Please accept two small gifts to seal my words.  Have I heard
correctly that you are much taken with the slave 'Danny' and he with you?"  Somewhat
shamefaced, Justin nodded affirmatively whereupon the Seznich handed him a small
rolled parchment document.  "You have discerning taste for so young a man," he
murmured with a soft smile.  "The slave is yours."  He continued, "Also, I grant you one
wish.  If it be within my power, it will be yours."  "Majesty..." Justin choked, the breath
knocked completely out of him.  "Thank you from the bottom of my heart.  My wish?  I
should be delighted if you would not send Gregg away for a few days."  "Ha!" the Prince
exclaimed.  "You Terrans!  I am not surprised.  (Pause.)  Consider it done.  Ah,
politics...the art of the possible," he added lightly.  "I fear this will not be the only change
around here, but as they say, 'The only constant is change itself'.  If you decide not to
come downstairs for breakfast, by the way, just ring.  My personal chef will prepare
something suitable...for the two of you."  Justin had bowed again - even lower this time
- and slipped back into his room before he realized the import of the Prince's last words.


(To Be Continued)