The Tale of the Blood Diamond (9 page)

“I know, honey.” She kissed him once more. “I think you’re right. Once I get into the groove, things will get better. Don’t you think I missed you, too? This isn’t one-sided, you know. I think about you and Zachary all the time. I wonder what you two are doing and when you are working, I worry that he may not be having fun. It’s constant. Until I had a child, I never worried so much in all my life. Even right now, I want to rush in his room and wake him up, but that’s not right. I’ve got to wait and by the time he rises, I’ll be out the door again.”

“Well, why don’t we have breakfast together?” Xzion glanced at the clock. “In a few hours, I can get him up while you get ready and I can cook breakfast while you are doing your hair, putting it in that cute little bun I like.” He smiled as he ran his fingers lightly down her face.

Jayme laughed lightly, turning away as if she were shy.

“And I can make you two a really nice meal and we can all sit around and talk.”

“Talk?” She rolled her eyes and fell on her back dramatically as she glared at the ceiling. “I have a seventeen month old son that can talk in two word responses, sometimes three…and he stares at your meat and drools. He is so serious, Xzion, just like you. He doesn’t smile a lot anymore. I miss that smile of his…Everything he does is orchestrated, calculated. He doesn’t play with toys the way other children do. He tries to take them apart and study them.” She ran her hand across her forehead as if she had a headache.

“I’m glad you’re finally sharing your frustrations with me.” He played with her loose, wild spirals. “Everything you are describing is normal behavior to me, so, I need to be reminded about it from your perspective. He
does
like cartoons, however.” He grinned.

“Yes, he does.” She smiled a bit wider.

“And, he likes yogurt and pudding. Most Zarkstormian children wouldn’t like something like that.” He paused, no doubt searching his mind for other ‘human-type’ traits their son possessed, obtained from his mother’s genes. “
And
he has
your
nose. He adores your mother, his grandma.”

“He does.”

“She didn’t appreciate him lining all of her forks and knives up in a single file line down her hallway, but she enjoys her grandson’s company overall,” Xzion teased.

“Oh God,” Jayme cackled. “How do you explain something like that?! She’d just finished washing them and found them all on the floor, her freshly polished silver in a
perfect
line, I might add.”

“He was creating a magnetic field.”

Jayme shook her head in disbelief. “So these are the kinds of things my son will do for fun, huh?” She grinned.

“That so-called silver had a higher iron content. I think she may have been led astray.”

“Oh yes, I’ll get right on telling my mom that she has been swindled,” she crooned.

“Well, it actually is more likely the dishwasher she is using. Zachary must’ve noticed the charge while she was wiping them dry and decided to test his theory. I can get into all of that later, if you wish.” He exhaled as he rolled on top of her to nestle his lips in the nook of her neck. She sighed as he pushed his hands behind her back, kissed then gently sucked on her neck. He grinded into her pelvis, his cock growing harder and harder between her quaking legs.

“Seriously, I need to tell my mom that her silverware is either fake or magnetically charged,” Jayme teased.

“You can tell her all about it after I make love to you one more time. Then I’ll let you rest…”

She guided her hands around his neck, and looked up into his dreamy, dark brown eyes. His thick brows were smoothed and his features seemed to glisten and glow.

“Ahhhh….” Her back arched as he guided himself inside of her, and took her away into a world of ecstasy one more time, and then another.

An hour later, he was fast asleep, her head on his broad shoulder as she played with the loose, soft hairs on his chest. Soon, he’d be up, just as he promised, fixing her and their son a breakfast of epic proportions. Just as always, she’d observe Zachary licking his cute little lips, wanting to chomp his tiny teeth into a blood pool of hardly cooked cow flesh and leave his oatmeal behind.

You can be you, Zachary. I won’t try to stop you, manipulate you into being something that you’re not. But I am your mother and sometimes this is all so confusing for me. I’m trying though.

She grinned, her body so satisfied as she finally began to drift off into a sweet slumber.

All I can do is try harder…

Jatorn swiveled leisurely in his seat, his expression creased in a horizontal jagged line from end to end, across his pale face. He could see himself clearly in his favorite mirror and though he considered himself to be a handsome son of a bitch, his anger was clearly evident, dampening his otherwise good looks. Thick, long strands of poker-straight blond hair, almost white, framed his face like the perfect picture. Dressed in a velvety blood red shirt with an Elizabethan collar and tight black pants, he crossed his long legs effortlessly as he bent slightly forward, gripping a cane made of Zarkstormian bone covered in black and white diamonds in his tight clutch. He watched his foot soldiers moving about the vast room filled with luxurious trinkets that sung, hummed, glittered, danced and pivoted. Piles of money from around their world lined against the walls. Rare paintings and sculptures worth more than a small planet formed part of his landscaping concourse. He continued to deliberate, and deliberate hard, on the conquest he’d yet sampled. Earth.

Earth was not a place he had much curiosity in until his needs for diamonds increased, but what spurred it further was his realization that the Zarkstormians had taken an interest in the odd place. Anything that interested
them
interested Jatorn. Zarkstormians didn’t waste their time with the unworthy, this he knew, and such fact drew him towards the damn planet. They had their cure, so why were they still there? Little did he know, however, it had little to do with a hostile takeover, not in the traditional sense of the idea anyway. After it was all said and done, he felt he’d been left out in the cold. Word had spread after Xzion had already staked his claim on the pitiful planet. The Yuledrakes’ enemy had sent their best Warrior to wipe out humans like yesterday’s news…and the man did so, effortlessly. It was inconceivable how one man could yield so much power, yet be so controlled. Jatorn admitted to himself he was at times envious of Xzion’s clout. The man seemed to take it for granted. If
he
had physical agility like that, he’d rule the damn worlds, all seventy-nine of them! What a prize. Xzion was a gift, wrapped in cool flesh…not to mention that eye…

He wanted Xzion’s eye, a weapon of mass destruction, as well as his ability to lock into human minds to control them, but all he could do was shrug his envy and admire from a distance. Such a thing would never occur; that was a Zarkstormian warrior trait and Xzion, with his odd hodge-podge of chemical structuring, managed to be a combination of Zarkstormian intellect — the mental elite — and physical traits, including the endurance, of his Warrior brethren and heritage.  How unbelievably awesome. Xzion was a scientific and engineering genius, powerful and deadly. He was far better than his peers; he was the coveted golden egg of the entire outfit. Jatorn had none of that.

What he
did
have, however, was the ability to annihilate others with a mere suggestion and lead others astray down paths with only one way in, and no way out. Jatorn’s tongue was forked and deadly. His power of persuasion was well known, and he took great pride in it. Zarkstormians were too cerebral to influence others. They even lacked the appearance of warmth, which caused them to be marginalized. They had no charisma; even their golden child, Xzion, struggled with it. They were cold fish in a frozen pond — no one got the cuddly feeling from a Zarkstormian. The bastards rarely smiled, let alone comforted one another. Now, however, their health was improving.

Jatorn tapped his forehead as beads of perspiration lined the exposed areas of his tender scalp. Overheating was a big problem, but at least Yuledrakes rarely succumbed to such a treacherous outcome as death. He delighted in knowing they may soon extinguish, and once they did, he’d planned to take over their land — but then Xzion stepped in and saved the bastards in the nick of time. Jatorn swallowed harshly and reached for a golden goblet filled with sparkling teal alcohol. He wasn’t certain what it was, just something new his personal bartender had whipped up and he found it rather delightful. He took another swig, then glared at his ringing phone. He curled his long fingers curled around it.

“Ichnot.” (Hello, what is it?)

“Xzion huit etuiv dar curishle.” (Xzion didn’t see the bodies we left.)

“I know,” Jatorn grinned. “He was next door, on his planet. He paid Zarkstorm a visit. Don’t worry, all is well. You are doing fine.” He laughed as he stood from his seat. “He will be told of what transpired, and he will understand the message. Of that, I have no doubt.  Our guests should arrive soon.” Jatorn slicked his finger across his lower lip as his eyes narrowed in satisfaction. “Go back to base and once the meeting begins, I will patch you through so you may listen.”

He hung up the phone, his smile growing even wider as wispy thoughts grouped together, forming miraculous images in his twisted mind. Soon, his paramilitaries would be Earth bound. It would be hundreds against one… His anticipation made the silver blood in his veins flow a bit faster to his two chambered-heart. He fell back into his seat, kicked his feet up and crossed his ankles leisurely, the smile cemented on his face.

Ahhh, Xzion. You may be a force to reckon with, but not even you will be able to stop this. Initially, I thought your presence would complicate matters. I later realized that the opportunity of a lifetime had landed at my feet. You see, I want you on my team, a part of my force, and since I don’t possess your skills, I intend to offer you a deal you can’t refuse…

****

Xzion cast a snowball so hard, it broke the tree branch. There he and Zachary stood in their backyard, the tiny tot laced up in a stiff army green snow suit, only his large, dark eyes showing, and a look of utter bewilderment on his face. Xzion closed his wrist and deliberated over the news. Aton had called him, let him know without a shadow of a doubt that Jatorn was making moves. He’d gotten wind of some sort of meeting. Who would be in attendance, he wasn’t sure, it was kept hush-hush, but anytime such a thing was orchestrated by the man, the hell gates would soon flood. He reminisced about ridiculous conversations with Jatorn in years past. The man had the nerve to offer him money for his eye. The insane maggot would stop at nothing to possess anything and everything he desired. Xzion understood that, despite the chivalrous smile, Jatorn was quite dangerous. He was swift, his murders ghastly, and he didn’t give a damn about anything but himself.

“Angry,” came a small voice, breaking the silence. Xzion turned towards the boy on a dime.

“Zachary, I’m not angry.”

The boy raised his mitten-covered hand and rubbed his right eye, seeming in a great deal of discomfort. Xzion dropped to his knees and helped him.

“I know it’s uncomfortable. I’m sorry, son. Your lens is forming. You should feel better soon. I put some medicine on it while it heals. We will do that every morning until you are better.”

“Pictures. White.”

“You see pictures? What is on the pictures?” Xzion’s interest was definitely piqued. The faint sound of Sly and the Family Stone’s, ‘If You Want Me to Stay’ played from a cracked window in the back of their house. He’d left his CD player on; it made him feel a bit closer to Jayme while she was away…

“In eye.” The boy pointed to the poor, swollen thing. “White lights.”

Xzion sighed. “Yes. Your eye is developing. When the nerves try to connect, you will see flashes of white light. It has been so long, I almost forgot about that. Yours is happening so much slower. With me, when I was your age, it was already done. Again, I am sorry you are uncomfortable. I hate that you feel this way. Daddy is doing all he can. I…I love you.” He kissed the top of his son’s covered head.

He couldn’t see the chap’s mouth, but by the curve of the little boy’s eyes, he was definitely smiling up at him…

*
***

One hour later…

“Welcome!” Jatorn lifted his gold glass high in the air. He sat at one end of the long, black shiny table with gems similar to rubies framing the thick slab of the tabletop. He felt like a star, and was revered as such. In the middle of the opulent room that glowed in cochineal and violet, the domed, white trey ceilings dripped with strung diamonds and pure golden balls, shining ever so brightly, but not as brightly as Jatorn’s good mood. He looked around the table… Yuledrakes were dressed in their best: black robes with the silky white sashes tied around their waists. Five Morphitians sat towards the far end of the table, their repugnant long faces occupied by large slanted eyes in various shades of blue, and framed with wiry gold and black hair. This was a sight that Jatorn still hadn’t quite grown accustomed to. It was rare to see a Morphitian in their natural, physical state but he required nothing less of them for such an important meeting.