Far Pangaea 78 : Pan Am

The lapping of waves cascade over her body. Nudging her about in the mud. Face down. Raped, beaten, broken, and bloody Bianca TeLeone was thrown to the sea like an offering. An unintentional offering. Someone did indeed try and save her. Someone quite unexpected. One she might only remember as the cause. The enemy after all. A woman with a past of her own. One that was forced to make decisions merely to stay alive. To keep what few friends in this God forsaken place allowed her. Still, being saved would never have led to this day. Perhaps in a darker shade of grey Bianca was indeed saved. Lifeless before. Lifeless after. Sins that could not be forgiven. Someday soon revenge would be her consuming thought. Her fuel that lights the fire. Greek fire indeed.

After a mile of turbulent surf the waves took her toward a distant shore. A large island of hills shrouded amid dense forest. An early morning mist cloaking even that much. Unconscious she had swallowed enough saltwater to drown a normal person. After the nights events aboard the Ceville she proved that there was more to this Greek beauty than met the eye. Eyes.

Bianca was a survivor.

A shrill sound of a flute ignores the crashing surf. Cutting in and out as if indecisive of what tune satisfied its player. As if Bianca could hear it. Her brain destroyed by her suffering. Still, music was indeed something that kept her going. The sweltering voice Of Robert Plant. Or John Lennon. Preferring more the rocker side thanks to her late fiancée. His wealth allowing her to live the freedom her body craved. Oh, the many concerts she had enjoyed. The dancing with hands in the air. High on life. High on Weed. The hypnotic attraction to the beat of guitars. The bass. The drums. In only her dreams now. Bianca just wished for death.

Not today.

The flute returns. Stops. Starts. Stops. Maddening. Who was playing that thing? Who was listening enough to be driven insane by it? It had to be calling her to the grave. Torturing her further before sending her to Hell. Yes. Bianca's ears heard the flute. Yet could not move. Her body weakened beyond belief. Barely feeling the freezing chill of the water on her legs. Mind lost. She was not even certain she wanted to be found. A corpse awaiting its soul to look for the light. Where was it? Why had it not shown brightly? Oh, right. Her eyelids were closed. Mud had caked around her face. Her breath shallow and fading.

"What have we here? Oooo! A big delicious clam." A voice barely deciphered, "The storm has given me a bounty this day." The voice draws closer. If she was aware enough Bianca might witness a lanky man of 5'5 in height. Wild hair upon his head. A ratty beard dangling from his chin. The smell of wet fur nauseating. If she could notice. Silence.

Maybe the voice had left her. Good. It was only irritating her further. It was a man after all. A stick jabs her in the ribs. If she could feel it. Again and again. She just wanted to be left alone. She had, had enough. No more torment. She had sworn off men. Not that it mattered. It would be her luck the Devil would take her time and time again. Just another man. Just leave her alone.

Hands carefully dig into the mud beneath her and roll her over. Her body limp. Pain beyond measure from broken bones. Yet, she does not let the Devil know her agony. She would not give him the satisfaction. Why was the song Sympathy for the Devil playing in her head? Subliminal? She had just been rolled over like a stone.

Poked again by a stick from the front this time. Can't a girl just die already? Breasts jostled. Not by a hand. Mud wiped away by a cloth. Okay, a hand held the cloth. Hey is that the light I've been waiting for? If she could think. Hair brushed away from her swollen eyes. Mud thick within her mane. Her arms lifted with the stick then dropped. Hey! That one I felt. Fuck that hurt. If she could truly relate. More darkness. That's better. To hell with it.

Less than a mile distant Jack Ramse and his companion the Woodland Sprite Iota combed the beach. Determined to find Bianca TeLeone. He owed it to her to save her life if he could. In a sense he had gotten her into this mess. While not predicting her rape at the crews hands. He did succumb to venom which his body chemistry usually battled anything poisonous. He attributed his ailment to the Djinn that inhabited the late Captain Mordecai. His own magic siphoning off the magic's of his friends. Their very life force dampened by him. Little did Jack know that the Weaver Bug James Ian Pryce had used to repair his severed arm was a hybrid. The Ganthorians and their damned meddling of species. The beetle was part Scarab. Something his companion Wretch had related. Osirian in nature. Luckily he had Osirian blood in him. So he was told. God traits even. Sure he bought into that. Something to mull over once things got back to normal. If that were possible.

His mission was to reach Lucas Dorsey. For murdering the Ganthorians he called allies. Falsely associated. He was scum. Having tried to kill Jack back at Wretch's cliff dwellings. For some reason Dorsey didn't want Jack to get to him. Most likely due to the Ganthorian Princess Kym'Ani. Wasn't love grand. Of course Jack sensed there was more to it. The moons above aligning a fraction more each night. Bad omen indeed.

So much had happened in a very short time. Lowball's crippling fall on the rocks paralyzing him. Addison Rogers revealing being related to Ruby Goddard. How was that even possible, Who tracks somebody a billion years in the past? Couldn't just be coincidence. He knew Addison helped him defeat the Djinn. Still, her methods before hand were not so clearly defined. Fear of the Captain certainly. Yet, why would she use Jack and the others so cruelly? She obviously had been on Pangaea long enough to lose sight of right on wrong until push came to shove. Adaptation. The mind realizing that taking was just as easy as asking for it. Once he had found Bianca he would get back out to the ship and get to the bottom of Addison Rogers. A mental flash of fucking her from behind troubled him. Of all the times. Shaking his head he finds Iota fluttering in front of him. Tiny winds battling the wind off of the water. She was shivering from the cold. Her look of concern made him come to his senses. Lifting the neck of his shirt collar he motions Iota in. At least his shirt was beginning to dry now that the rain had stopped. He himself not bothered by the chill. Iota in her frail size far less warm.

As she enters his shirt her chin rests on the neckline looking out. Her hands tugging the cloth tighter to her body. She really should wear clothing. Of course there wasn't exactly a Pixie Clothing store on this world. Yet, it made him smile. She was adorable. Damned sexy if he got right to it. If she were only...Jack shook it off. His hormones unbalanced due to the venom. Sure, that had to be it. Besides, come on, Iota was five inches tall.

Within his body heat Iota cooed. She had sensed his emotions. She loved her Jack. The higher the sun rose in the sky the warmer it got. He hoped that the heat would keep Bianca alive. If she even made it to shore. For all he knew a shark had eaten her. Or that Mosasaur Addison had mentioned. He refused to believe that. Looking out over the distance he narrows his eyes.

"Disturbed mud. Could be from turtles or something nesting. Wait. Footprints. Bianca?" Jack bolts into a run. Iota holding on for dear life beneath his collar. In five minutes he reaches the location and sizes it up. These were not human footprints. These were from an animal. Yet, it was easy enough to see that a human body had left an imprint in the mud. The waves not reaching it enough to wash the indentations away. No mistaking the molds of large breasts. It had to be Bianca. Crouching to examine the animal prints he nods, "Hoof prints."

Following the prints up the beach and into the foliage he tracked them until things got rocky. Iota escaping Jack's collar to flutter her dragonfly like wings. She points upward for Jack to look. He spots smoke rising. Somebody had built a fire. Motioning her to fly up and check the situation out Iota nods and heads straight up like a missile. She was handy to have around. His thoughts suddenly thinking of her arms wrapped around his hard..."Dammit Ramse. Enough."

Iota carefully reaches the top of the rocks where it leveled out. There she found a stone enclosure on looking a green pasture on the other side. A pasture with crops. Zipping out toward the crops she investigates further. The vines held a very special fruit. Plucking a single sweet smelling bulb she carries it back down to Jack. Resting the bulb in his palm.

"You brought me a Grape?" He scowls as she nods, her arms them re-enacting what she saw. Forming a hut and acting as if she was opening and closing a door, "A house. Front door." He plays along with her charades. Her next action being to stomp her feet roughly as if attacking the ground. That had him bewildered.

"I think she's stomping grapes." A voice appears behind Jack. How did anyone sneak up on him. Turning defensively he notes the Man who had rescued Bianca. The man swigging back from a flask. Wiping his mouth on his wrist he offers Jack a drink.

"Red wine?"

"Who are you? Where is the girl?" Jack sizes him up. He then notices his feet and worse yet the horns on his head.

"The devil I think. At least that seems to be what the girl keeps calling me."

"Satyr?"

"Isn't that obvious? I'm certainly not a Centaur."

"Is Bianca alright?"

"Resting. I built a fire to warm her. Had to boil some fruity froth anyways. Poison if not. Sure you do not want a drink? Humble Host I am."

"Gotta name?"

"Don't we all? Pan. Pan I am."

"Pan? The God of Wine in Greek Mythology? Funny. Bianca is Greek. I'm Jack Ramse. Bianca's friend."

"Greetings Jack and his lovely Sprite. Who might you be Sweet Thing?"

Iota blushes and shakes her tits toward the dazzled Satyr. His eyes dancing along with them. It takes Jack to snap his fingers over Pan's eyes to bring his fantasy back to reality.

"Is Bianca alright?"

"Surely. She fights like a Warrior Woman. I was worried she might be one. They all run naked and carry shields and spears. Pretty erotic if they weren't so damned mean and bitter."

"There are other people on this island?"

"Many. All trying to steal my wine. Few succeed. I can be a nasty Fellow." His eye brows wiggle toward Iota. The girl drooling all over herself. Seeing this Jack shook his head grumbling. Tugging his collar open he looks directly at Iota, "IN! NOW!"

Pouting the Sprite obeys and waves goodbye to Pan. By her out of the way Jack might get the Satyr's full attention. Pan tilts his head as if dancing. Another swig from his leather flask he scowls, "You didn't need to do that. I was only flirting."

"Wrong species."

"That's rather racist. I should be offended."

"Christ. I'm talking to Johnny Depp." His head reeling at hearing himself being called Captain Jack. Enough was enough, "Take me to Bianca."

"Sure she wants to see you Kind Sir? Not so Kind? I know not."

"I told you she's my friend."

"Sounds to me like she had a lot of manly friends. Poor girl can't stop mumbling about it." He becomes dramatic covering his forehead with his left arm, "No stop. Please. It hurts. It feels good. Don't stop. Obviously quite confused."

Jack was becoming increasingly annoyed by the Man. He snatches the Satyr up by his tunic dragging him closer to his face with intimidation, "Enough with the theatrics. Bianca was raped brutally. Against her will. We fought off a goddamned Djinn. Her arms broke. She was thrown overboard from a ship and nearly drowned. All I want is to keep her safe. Either you're with me or against me. Which is it?"

Belching directly into Jack's face the Satyr grins, "I put her arm in a cast. She didn't like it much when I forced her bones back in place. Good as new in a few weeks. A few coins for my efforts?"

Jack calms down and releases him, "You're really the Greek God Pan?"

"Pan I am. God? Not so much. Maybe to the ladies." He winks, "Relax I never touched the girl. As you said wrong species." He then pauses, "Interesting ring she has on her finger. A goat fan she must be."

"Ram. Her fiancée gave it to her as an engagement ring. I've heard that people have tried to remove it. Won't come off. Not even cut off."

Pan's eyes lighten up, "Sounds like baaaaad juju. Magic perhaps."

"Hard telling. Don't start with the goat throat stuff. Baaaad juju? Really?"

"Comes with the grazing. What can I say?" He turns on his hooves and struts away, "Follow me." In turn he climbs the rocky incline like a Master. Jack having experience rock climbing in the Military kept up. Pan was impressed. Reaching the top Jack admires the accommodations. A nicely built stone home with a wooden roof covered in palm like branches. A lone chicken prowls about. Eggs laid all around the clearing. "Don't step on lunch. Dora might become cross."

"Dora? Great first Pan and now Dora. What's next a box releasing evil into the world?" "Oh, hardly. Circe might own that though. She likes trinkets more than I."

"Circe? Did I stumble into the Odyssey?"

"Odd I see. Why yes you appear to be. Inside. Your friend awaits."

Cautiously Jack follows the Satyr inside the house. Within he found dozens of types of herbs dangling from the rafters. It was obvious there was more to this Satyr than being a drunk wine taster. He appeared to know medicine fairly well. The open flames in a fire hearth felt wonderful. From there he notices a large bed concealed by fine woven silk. "Mosquito net." Pan smirks as Jack pulls the cloth aside to look in. To his surprise Bianca was cleaned up. Her hair even adorned with a freshly picked flower. Still nude but blanketed in thick woolen pelts, "Sheered the girls myself. Nothing like a naked Ewe dancing about the pasture."

"Who are you really?"

"Pan I---" Jack halts him with a glare, "On to me are you? Fine. I'm a Doctor. Doctor Trevor Stevens. 1916. I used to be a Medic. Trapped here one day when my convoy was attacked by the Germans. I was with Allied Powers from the U.S.of A. Looked up from a nasty shelling in a trench saving a lovely young lady in a village. She was my volunteer nurse."

"Circe?"

"You are good. Yes that was her. Grew to hate each other after a bit. She went off to the other side of the island. Found her young Warrior Woman a tad more to her licking. Liking. Some trinket she discovered there--well--changed her."

"Looks like you changed some too. I don't recall any Satyr's in the military."

"Quite right. She called me an old goat one day and here I am."

"Magic. That trinket."

"I suppose so. Could be worse. I could be one of the boars running about this island. Poor fellows."

"What? Circe turned them into pigs just like the Odyssey story?"

"Pigs before that. She just helped them along. Hordakians I think they called themselves."

"I've heard of them. My--friend James mentioned them once. Alien race from out there." Jack points up.

"Of course they are. Came here looking to round up slaves to build some bloody tower. For some nut job I think they called Dorsey. Maybe it was Horsey. I don't know."

"No Dorsey was right. Lucas Dorsey. 1960's. United States Officer working for a secret group called REGION. Not a likeable guy. He nearly killed me and my friends. Literally brought a cliff down around our ears."

Pan cocks an eye brow, "That much power he has?"

"Evidently. Not certain how he got that much as you call it baaad juju but he has it."

"Goat throat you say." Pan chuckles, "Listen Friend. I'm sorry we got off on the wrong hoof. I just live for the day. Get drunk, sleep off my curse, and play my flute. Keeps me happy."

Jack nods his acceptance, "Thanks for caring. I need to get Bianca back to the ship. I have other friends about three miles down the beach and another mile out on the water." He hesitates, "Oh, and you're not the only one cursed. I had to leave good people behind. Recited some damned curse from a book to beat back a Fallen Angel named Verago."

"Angel you say?"

"Yeah. Nasty guy. If figure if I can kick his ass, Dorsey has to be a pushover. We killed a Vampire Queen too. A Djinn a few hours ago during the storm."

"You've been busy." He hides his eyes looking toward Bianca, "Might want to consider leaving your friend here."

"Not an option."

"You say that now. I've lifted her eyelids. I've seen the fury. Once she revives she is going to--not be herself at first."

"How could you predict that?"

"When was the last time she shaved her legs?"

Jack looks at him queerly, "What are you talking about?"

Pan moves to lean over Bianca's slumber. Dragging the blankets away Jack is startled to find Bianca herself growing fur. Her ankles swelling and reshaping.

"What did you do to her?" Jack snaps a deadly glare toward the Satyr.

"Not I. This is magic. I would look toward that ring My Friend. Again, baaaad juju."

Iota crawls out from Jack's collar and takes flight. After noticing Bianca's change she pouts and sets down by the Greek beauty. Her pillow comfy. A tiny hand caresses Bianca's cheek.

"Anca sad. O'Tah sad." She proclaims.

"Wonderful. My friends are all suffering. Look. Regardless I won't abandon Bianca. Changing into something not human or no. She is and will always be under my protection."

"Noble." Pan smiles.

Taken back Jack recalls telling Ruby Goddard to consider naming his first child Noble. With a loud sigh he sits down beside Bianca and palms her forehead. A fever definitely. Eying Iota Jack he winces, "Anything you can do?" O'Tah shrugs then merely hugs Bianca's earlobe. Friends indeed.

After a moment of reflection they feel a vibration building. Pottery was clattering about in Pan's cupboards. Herbs were swaying. Jack stands quickly as he and Pan catch each other to remain on their feet.

"Earthquake?" Jack ponders.

A shadow creeps over the estate. Pan peering out his window, "The Pigs are back."

A Hordakian warship hovers over the island. It's thunderous engines quivering every living thing on the island. All 30 square miles of it. Obviously searching for something. Missing troops perhaps. This was the first time Jack Ramse had seen another spacecraft outside of the Hilton. Even he had to swallow with a bit of intimidation in his thoughts. His first consideration leading to, "Dorsey must be looking for me."

A strong possibility. In the quaking of the stone home, Bianca TeLeone dreamt of War Pigs. If truth be known it was a Sunday. A truly Black Sabbath was coming.

Four miles away on the Spanish Warship the Ceville the crew stood restless. Their Captain dead. Their First Mate unconscious with possible injuries life threatening. A strange metal ball called Fenway had brought back the Leprechaun Lowball bundled up in a golden cast of metal like a baby in swaddling clothes. Only a blind old Crone named Wretch and a shape changing Woman of mystery kept them in line. Wretch primarily caring for the fallen. It had dawned on her that since her eyes came back she had completely overlooked her blindfold. Her mistake potentially costing them all their lives. As a loud humming envelopes the atmosphere Wretch peers out of a window after placing a wet compress over Addison Rogers forehead. Her visions still a bit off as her magic was returning.

"Oh Dear."

Lowball laying a mere four feet from Addison's bunk bulges his eyes. Lips mumbling, "What do ye see?"

"A very big flying ship. It hovers over the island. I fear they look for us. Yet, Jack is on the island." Her companion the lithe black cat climbs the wooden wall to look out the window. Hissing she knew the type of ship it was. Thankful it was not Osirian in origin. As the crew cowers in hiding their First Mate Addison Rogers stirs. Coming to under the unsettling of the ship. Eyes flutter open. Her neck supported by pillows all around her. Wincing she turns her neck. It was stiff but fortunately unbroken as feared.