The Preacher Man - Cover

The Preacher Man

Copyright© 2006 by hammingbyrd7

Chapter 47: A New Life

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 47: A New Life - In the far future, the Earth is ruled by a single global theocracy, and a young student of history learns that in every revolution, there is one man with a vision.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   First   Pregnancy   Slow  

One month later...

Time: June 5, 8243 11:27 PM

I spent a full month at the capital after my coronation. The position of my political enemies lay in ruins, and it was a priceless opportunity to build new alliances and political structures before the opposition could recover. With Jibran's help, my standing within Utility now is more solid than it's ever been, my home faction in High Tech is thrilled to have me as Cunif Califar, and I even have some good relationships with Health, not as broad as they were when I had Faisal, but still very promising. It's probably the first time in several thousand years that the political landscape has been this harmonious.

And the price for all this? I have been neglecting my wives. My palace at Bandar Arenas is so vast, my security detail is still not satisfied as to the shielding. So my contacts with my wives have been minimal. I would call for one every few days, just for a few hours of petting and coitus and a sleep partner, and then off she'd go back to her holding pen. Abby and Sheffie and Chanah are superb actors and accepted this humiliating schedule with poise and grace. Michal just giggled and Dodi openly laughed when they woke up with me and read in their marriage books that they were wedded to the Cunif Califar.

Ah, Cunif Califar. It still feels a bit awkward, to think of myself as one. That was the one small issue I overruled my Council on, but it was my 27 votes to their 7, and what's the point of being a supreme legislature in all secular matters if I can't occasionally get my way? The matter required a 75% super majority vote. Surprisingly, I needed all my voting power to change how people address me. Even Jibran thought I was making a mistake, but he was the only one who didn't bother to try to change my mind. He knows me too well.

So now everyone may address me simply at Abdul Hadi or Servant of the Guide, which ever they choose. And it's no longer a criminal offense to forget and call me Ilias, though it's quite touching to see that no one has made that mistake yet.

The name change is taking some time getting used to. I did something a little unusual with my wives, not exactly illegal but not far from it. I wrote in all their marriage books that my former name was Ilias. Abby knew me by that name before her supposed transformation into eternal virginity, so we would have some cover there. But it would be an absolute disaster for anyone to hear Shephatiah or Chanah call me Ilias. My undamaged wives have told me in our secret sign language that they have spent hours drilling the thought that my name is now Abdul Hadi, Servant of the Guide. We hold hands under the covers as we sleep at night and communicate. It's a little slow, but very endearing and intimate.

We finally arrived here at Dakar early this afternoon, on a fine late spring day in the Northern Hemisphere. The capital was getting quite dark this time of year, only eight hours between sunrise and sunset now, and Dakar's contrasting light and rugged and pristine mountains and lakeside beauty were a joy to us all. I've promised my wives we'll spend at least two months here, and then at least another two months at Qataban. This place and Qataban seem like home to us, in a way the capital and perhaps Dalma never will. We were all looking forward to some rest and playtime with each other.

"Three minutes," Chanah called out. We were about to communicate with Australia again, our first chance in many months. We had so much to tell them and so much to thank them for. It was all their doing, it must have been, the plane crash that led to my coronation. And now it was time to express our gratitude.

I watched Chanah work the console, my heart full of admiration for her. It was her suggestion initially to link my personal computer arrays in Dakar, Qataban, and Dalma into one distributed super-computer. The shielded set-up provides a perfect cover for communicating with Australia whenever we wish, and it also provides the free women of Australia with an incredible computing resource, far greater than anything they have available at the mining site. Chanah's vision paid off a million-fold this year. It was this computer processing power combined with our specialized holographic science that allowed the May magic to take place.

My heart was bursting with song. It was now time to thank the people who had cut the strings between the puppet and the puppeteer and then had thrown them both into a fiery pit. Chanah flashed me a hand signal of five open fingers. Video would start in five seconds.

And the video was superb! After years of intense development, the six Australian women looked absolutely indistinguishable from living beings. And the holo-emitters could now drive sound waves from the location of their virtual mouths. Unless I placed my hand upon their virtual bodies and pushed into the light, the illusion of presence was without flaw.

I smiled at my saviors. "So, how's the reception on your end?"

"Resolution looks perfect," answered Dalis. She added sweetly, "It's so nice to be with you again and also to meet you for the first time, Abdul Hadi."

I grinned. "Yes, the metamorphosis is complete. Do you think I look different?"

Dalis took my question seriously and openly stared at my body for a moment. "To be truthful, yes, just a bit. Your carriage looks more regal." She then blushed. "Oh, forgive me Abdul Hadi! I'm not trying to flatter!" She smiled at me and then noticed I was staring at her own body in return. "Abdul Hadi, what?"

I felt myself blushing back. Though we've never met in person, Dalis and her companions have become very close friends to me. I sometimes find myself wanting to open my heart to them as completely as I do with my wives. None of my wives has ever discouraged me in this. Our conference now was among one extended but intimate family. I felt I would risk my life for my Australian family as easily as I chose to risk it for Abigail in Qataban so many years ago.

I sighed and finally responded to Dalis. "Your observation got me to thinking. I'm blessed with an almost perfect memory, both for facts and visual imagery. I was comparing your image now to when we first met."

Dalis nodded. "And?"

"You look subtly different too. And it's not just the better resolution."

Dalis stretched her bare arms and looked at herself for a moment. "Well, I'm aging. This is what the body of a woman approaching thirty years looks like when it's not held back by anti-aging drugs. We're starting to look different. I wonder if a trained geneticist could pick me out in a crowd now, for looking a little strange."

Bithiah spoke next. "Abdul Hadi, what should we discuss first? Do you want to debrief us on the May 2nd incident?"

"Ah, you're a true magician Bithy. You can read minds!"

She gave me a warm laugh. "Oh, sometimes it's not hard! Let me begin." She took a deep breath. "We followed the news reports in April of course, saw the trouble you were in. All six of us here watched the coronation ceremony of Abdul Muhsi on May 2nd, saw you sitting alone and isolated with your black pentagon that morning. And then shortly before 11 AM, we were surprised to see your ramjet taking off from the capital. We decided to shine the satellite laser on your plane and try to contact you."

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