Chapter 4

I drove the Citroen southward while Talibah studied the images of her mother in California on the digital viewer/MP3 player I borrowed from Sun and Jun. I also had her put on the earphones and showed her how to play the audio of her mother's recorded message.

There were tears in her eyes when she finished, and she turned to me saying, "Thank you!"

"We made a promise," was my only reply. I still wasn't sure about her, one way or another.

"My mother says that the woman who first came to get her was badly beaten and left for dead." She said, "I am so sorry about that! Was she another of those Security people from Hastings' company?"

"Yes."

"Ah." She said, "I'm beginning to understand. You think I had something to do with that."

"I don't know, one way or the other, Talibah." I replied.

She looked out the window at the passing farmland, saying nothing for a long time. I was negotiating the transition to the bypass around Munchen (Munich) when she spoke.

"I can think of nothing to say that will convince you, Darren." She said softly. "All I can do is tell you that I had nothing to do with this. I have no idea how those men knew she would be there and when. My mother says they waited in the town for several days before the woman arrived, and were still there when she and the others got her out. Perhaps it was just chance that they met."

"Perhaps." I doubted it. I still didn't know how the Chinese figured into all this, but the fact that the only two people in the world who were capable of beating one of Hastings' bodyguards just happened to be in the same place as Talibah's mother when Mei went to get her was just too coincidental.

Talibah remained silent until we were once again headed south and beginning to see the snow covered peaks of the Austrian Alps in the distance.

"What do you think of the Islamic religion, Darren?" Talibah finally asked, staring off into the distance.

"I don't think I know enough about it to have an opinion," I answered, "other than my general attitude toward faith-based systems of worship."

"And what is that?"

"I think that some people need to believe that there is a power higher than themselves that controls their destiny and will care for them when they finally die," I said, honestly. "For those people, the worship of a deity provides comfort and support to continue their daily lives, even in the face of hardship."

"But... ?" she prodded.

"But," I continued, "I also think that a proclivity for believing unconditionally in something, without proof of its existence leaves one open to all kinds of scams and confidence games. I also believe that when thorough knowledge of the tenets of a religion, and responsibility for interpretation of its writings rests in the hands of a few, the temptation to abuse that power is bound to overwhelm at least some of them."

"You're talking about the belief that what Al-Qaeda is doing is Jihad - holy war?" She asked.

"I'm talking in general terms. I believe that terrorism may fall in the category of abuse of religious power," I continued, "but I don't know enough about what the Quran says to know for certain. There is a subtler form of that abuse at work in the US right now."

"Really?" She asked, "In what way?"

"The person who claims to be our President also claims to be a religious man," I said, "and as such has garnered the support of many of the religious people in our country, despite the fact that his actions prove him to be anything but a believer in the tenets of most Christian religions. He has committed us to an unjust war on false premises so that his corporate benefactors can profit. He has done everything in his power to degrade the education system in our country, probably because it ensures more gullible voters who will believe what they're told to believe. He has even cut benefits to the veterans returning from fighting his war. I could go on and on, but the point is that other than the people who expected to profit from his presidency, his primary support came from those religious people who were conditioned to believe that a religious person was a good person."

Talibah studied me from the passenger seat as I continued.

"And then we have to consider the sources of the writings that everyone believes tell them how their deity wants them to behave. They were written, a long time ago, by people who were, by our standards, ignorant and superstitious, and who had their own agendas as they were writing. They were first adopted by masses of people who were even more ignorant and superstitious. Does that tell us anything about those writings? Nothing conclusive, but it does, in my opinion, make them suspect."

"Do you believe in God?" Talibah asked.

"Let's just say I'm skeptical about his existence," I replied. "When asked what proof they have of His existence, every Christian I've ever spoken with about this waves a hand and says, 'Look around you! This is His creation! How could anything this wonderful come into existence on its own?' Well, let's examine that argument. If such a being exists, outside our normal space-time continuum, and it created our universe, how could we be more than a lab experiment to such a being? If that being really were the omnipotent, benign overseer of our lives that our clerics tell us he is, why would He insist on being worshipped and feared? These are not qualities 'His' teachings would have us look for in 'good' people, so why would such a 'benevolent' being assign them to Himself?"

"Even shunting those questions aside for a moment," I continued, "if we postulate that our universe must have been created by some infinitely more powerful, knowledgeable being, we must then ask 'Who created that being and the universe in which He lives?' By the logic that got us here, there must have been an even more powerful being that our God would worship as a God, but then, how did THAT God and THAT universe come into existence? This argument can go on indefinitely with all kinds of theological and scientific arguments on both sides, but the fact of the matter is that nobody really KNOWS. It's all just stuff we can't explain with our current level of knowledge, so, like the ancient Greeks, we create a myth to explain it."

"So why do you care what I think about religion?" I asked.

Talibah smiled for the first time since I'd known her, and it lighted her face. "I have long held the theory that if you want to learn important things about a person quickly, you ask them about religion."

"That's very shrewd," I told her. "Now how about answering a question for me."

"It's only fair," she replied, still smiling.

"What do you think of Democracy?" I asked.

"Ah!" She laughed, "Another religious question!"

"Or one very akin to it!" I replied, smiling with her.

"I think that, like Communism and Socialism, Democracy looks good on paper," she replied, "but its practice is subject to the same human frailties that plague religions. In particular, I think you in the US have gotten so complacent about your Democracy that you are letting it slip away. You go around the world seeking to convert every other country to 'Democracy' like the Catholics used to send missionaries to savages to convert them, and yet you no longer practice Democracy. Your elections are flawed and rife with corruption. You have a party in power whose only purpose seems to be the promotion of greed, and your mainstream news media are little more than Pravda was to the former Soviet Union."

"Your country has the greatest economy on the planet," she continued, "but your streets are getting more and more crowded with poor and homeless people. Your democracy isn't working for the same reason it wouldn't work in many of the countries you try to force it upon - it depends upon the populace being educated and well informed about what your politicians are doing and seeing to it that they do what they should, and most of you just don't care. Europeans, who have historically been dependent upon monarchs, now have greater Democracy than that practiced in the US. They are better educated, better informed, and more involved in what their government is doing. As a result, the quality of their lives is much better than that of all but the very wealthy in the US."

"If it's so bad," I asked, "what would you replace it with?"

"I would not replace it so much as fix it." She answered. "Your Government needs balance. To achieve that, the people need to once more get involved in their government 'of the people, by the people, and for the people' and take it back from the rich. Your society has become decadent, like that of the ancient Greeks, and the Romans after them. You have a powerful empire but it's eating itself up from within. I don't think there is any such thing as a perfect form of Government, but from what I've seen, the ones that do the most good for the most people are those that have to answer to those people."

"And what about the media?" I asked, testing.

"There are no easy answers there." Talibah replied. "Of course, there are no easy answers to any of these problems, but I think the key for you and your countrymen is to get involved - to stop taking the crap you hear on CNN or Fox news as the whole story. If people get interested in getting the real story, and stop allowing themselves to be distracted by the Michael Jackson and Terry Schiavo stories, your media will have no choice but to give them what they want or go out of business."

I drove in silence for a while, not liking what I heard, but knowing it for the truth.

My thoughts were interrupted by the need to navigate as we crossed over the Salzach river and exited the Autobahn into Salzburg. The hotel on Rupert Strasse couldn't have had more than ten or twelve rooms, but it was clean and well kept. I held the door for Talibah and she went directly to the check-in counter, tapping the bell to let the hotel staff know they had customers.

In German, she asked for a room with a double bed, which, in Germany and this part of Austria meant two singles side-by-side.

As she concluded her business and collected her keys, I moved aside to let her pass so I could book my own room, but Talibah hooked her arm in mine, saying, "Come along, Darren. There is no need to waste money on an extra room."

I had it in mind to object, as I really wanted to sleep, and not have to go through a sexual interrogation, but decided I might be able to make it work to my advantage, so I smiled and let her lead me to the stairs.

Certainly, watching Talibah's swaying rear ascend the stairs only inches from my nose made it seem as though it might be a pleasurable experience.

In the room, though, Talibah seemed to have no interest in talking.

"Tonight," she whispered, as she began removing my clothes, "I wish to be selfish. Tonight I work for no one but myself."

I SO hoped that was true, but I still could not let my guard down.

Talibah was not as silent as Sun and Jun in her lovemaking, but she didn't speak after her initial declaration. When I was naked, she urged me onto the bed and I watched as she quickly removed her own clothing. There was no attempt at seduction, she did no clever striptease, but her natural grace and beauty made the simple act of undressing a highly erotic one for me.

I was lying on my back, propped up on my elbows to watch. When she was bare, Talibah straddled my midsection, trapping my hardening cock against my abdomen, and pushed me down flat. My hands went automatically to her heavy, perfectly formed breasts as her slippery mound slithered slowly up and down the length of my shaft, still trapped between us.

Talibah gasped and thrust her chest forward as I kneaded her tits and repeatedly squeezed and released her dark nipples. Abandoning those luscious globes for the moment, I traded them in for the dusky orbs of her butt, squeezing and massaging them as I urged her body higher on mine.

Her gasp when my mouth closed over the sensitive bud of her clit, was almost a whine, and the dark-skinned beauty's back arched as she felt my tongue laving her private flesh. Like a mad-woman, Talibah took a double handful of my hair and pulled me into her. For a moment, it seemed as though she was trying to stuff my entire head inside herself!

I drew the elongated nib of her clit into my mouth and nibbled gently at it, allowing one finger to tap at her back door as I did. Talibah went ballistic! Her hips ratcheted rapidly, fucking my lips with the stub of her pleasure nubbin, while her ass, unsure of the intrusion, but enjoying the sensation, alternately nibbled at, then ran away from my finger. She shrieked through her first climax as one backward thrust sank my invading digit about halfway into her anal ring.

Gasping for breath, and desperate to get her sensitive clit away from my tormenting tongue, Talibah rolled to her side. I rolled with her, and wound up on top, my rigid cock swaying above her swampy pussy. Taking a slender ankle in each hand, I held her legs wide apart as I sank slowly into the center of her lust.

With our pubic hair mingled, I held myself deep inside the trembling beauty, giving her time to adjust to my size. Talibah's head was thrown back, the muscles in her neck standing out as she strove to accommodate the intruder.

I waited, and when I felt her pelvis beginning to rotate, I flexed, drawing a sharp cry from the impaled girl. Withdrawing to the entrance, I once again plunged steadily into her depths. This time, small, dusky-skinned hands dug into my buttocks, pulling me deeper as Talibah's hips swiveled around the pivot of my dick, stretching her tunnel to make room for me.

I placed her ankles on my shoulders and leaned forward to kiss her as my pelvis withdrew for the next plunge. As my rod invaded her nether regions, my tongue explored her mouth, dancing with her own. This time I did not linger, but began stroking long and deep, while holding Talilbah's lips in captivity, her moans losing themselves in the cavern of our joined mouths.

I drove her through three or four more orgasms, then rolled onto my back, taking her with me. Talibah, now on top, rode me like horse. Her pelvis swiveled and swirled my shaft within her as my hands once again found her chocolate-tipped breasts.

I was little more than a flesh-covered dildo to her now, her dark eyes closed as she took her pleasure from me. I pinched and pulled at her dark nipples, causing momentary flashes of just enough pain to enhance her pleasure. Minute by minute, Talibah's lust grew. Faster and faster her body flashed up and down the length of my pole, drawing from it every ounce of pleasure it could give her. Her moans grew guttural and savage as she wrenched her orgasm from our joined bodies, flinging herself backward as my fingers tugged insistently at her nipples. Her breasts stretched impossibly far as her body stiffened for several long moments, before collapsing bonelessly on my chest with a small, anguished cry!

I held still beneath her as Talibah caught her breath. It was several minutes before she spoke.

"I have taken my pleasure from you," she smiled, "Now, I think, I should like for you to take your pleasure from me."