Betrayal of the Paragon Cross

By Georgina Zuvela

Rosko Krystoffe lives in South Africa in 2084 when a civil war breaks out in the city of Paragonia. The Paragon people are driven away and embark on a journey of survival. Rosko meets the Gabra Shi in a speleothem cave where she reveals the mystery and purpose of his existence.
Gretchen Tousard is Roskos potential bride. She is also torn from her loved ones and loses track of them. On her journey fraught with danger she escapes the civil war in Paragonia. When she is compelled to sail to Montenegro where she finds Rosko once more. He discovers Gerald Topovskis evil plan to manipulate the worlds resources through SEV.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Oct 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499028966

Georgina Zuvela

I was born in Surrey, England 1958 to a seamstress and an animation artist. I attended the Heath Clark Grammar School in Croydon. I left England to be married at seventeen. In Zagreb I worked as Secretary of the American School and also as a translator.     I immigrated to Australia in 1983. I worked as a computer operator until I became a mother of three. For fifteen years I was a Director of my husband’s business. I volunteered as a Catechist in the Diosese of Broken Bay during the 90’s. I love working in retail and creative writing has become a passion and fulfilment in my life.     My novels are fun to read, playing with common fears and phobias, crime and vigilantism. Power, religion and social acceptance are mixed with adventure and the notion of achievable immortality. The plot evolves and leads the reader to new revelations about the Madonna’s Cross. The series is filled with action, mystery and drama. There is some romance and also a healthy sense of humour.  

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Copyright © 2014 by Georgina Zuvela.

ISBN:          Softcover          978-1-4990-2893-5

                    eBook               978-1-4990-2896-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 10/28/2014

Xlibris

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Contents

Acknowledgement

Chapter 1:   Paragonia

Chapter 2:   Vision

Chapter 3:   Omen

Chapter 4:   Razorback

Chapter 5:   Interrogation

Chapter 6:   Azhope

Chapter 7:   Exile

Chapter 8:   Lupadilia

Chapter 9:   Gabra Shi

Chapter 10: Tsunami

Chapter 11: Outer Orient Spectrum

Chapter 12: Quintilian Chamber

Chapter 13: Shake-down

Chapter 14: Skadar

Chapter 15: Hoodwink

Chapter 16: Monk

Chapter 17: Full Alert

Chapter 18: Monastery

Chapter 19: Lone Kestrel

Chapter 20: Gamble

Glossary

This book is for Zdravko, who shows

the true spirit of a judo warrior.

Acknowledgement

Thank you, to my family and friends for encouraging me with my writing. I really appreciate your honest comments and loving patience. I also thank my technical team, Goran, Karl and Jason to whom I am forever grateful.

Georgina Zuvela, Author

Chapter 1

Paragonia

Paragonia on the western cape of South Africa was sweltering hot under the suffocating humidity during the month of March. The year of 2084 was turning into a nightmare as unexpected torrential rains had inundated the city once again. The tides were on the rise and consequentially the suffering caused by this was blamed on global warming. A living pressure cooker of unhappy citizens began to build up within the city and they threatened to take their frustrations out on the administrators at the Tower of Resolutions. There was a group of underground rednecks geared up to go into action as soon as they had got their feet firmly back on dry turf.

Citizens living on ground level had been lobbying the Tower for years, hoping to get the old levees on the river and sea barriers raised higher in order to keep the king-tides out of their courtyards. Populated areas had repeatedly been swamped since sea levels had risen more than eighty metres in less than fifty years. However nothing had been achieved by complaining through the usual recommended channels and the current administration was ignoring their pleas for help.

The latest deluge was the worst. The streets were behaving more like rivers again and no one wanted to predict when the next flash flood would arrive at their doorstep. News reports were just not forthcoming with any kind of positive feedback and the population was once again stranded on their roof tops.

Mini helicopters flew about like dragonflies over the muggy and dangerous flood waters. They signalled to the teams of rescuers skimming the area in hovercrafts, looking for survivors to pick up along the way.

There were many tragedies reported. The big clean up continued as mosquitoes were rife and rats swam for their lives, although they seemed to be getting used to these sorts of rotten conditions.

Down in a basement in the heart of the city, under the Diamond Casino, a blue light gently glowed inside a flooded room that was locked from the outside. The room incidentally had been the temporary home of Rosko Krystoffe the Paragon Prince. He was strapped naked to his bed in a condition known as self-induced hibernation underwater, a Paragon man trait and the result of him being submerged without oxygen for longer than twenty minutes.

Slowly the waters receded and soon the young man was taking his time to recover and he became utterly famished. Derek Schoemakker, his cousin, came to his rescue and as bad luck would have it, he was struggling to opening the front door.

Look under the mat, Derek. Rosko shouted from the soggy mattress. Sarah would have left the key for herself… Check under the mat, mate!

Got’ya! Derek replied and bent down to lift the sodden tuft. Bloody hell, Rosko! That woman must have had it in for you, to go locking you in like this..! he panicked. Finding the key he selected the option and watched the door rise up two centimetres. The doorposts briefly flashed a red light. Damnation! When are you ever going to get this bloody thing fixed..? he yelled and pressed another option.

Luckily the door rose up several more centimetres and flashed a green light this time. Derek entered the dripping room, only to find his cousin grinning with embarrassment. Rosko was overjoyed as he fully appreciated Derek’s loyalty and thanked his lucky stars that he could at least be relied upon at a time like this.

I knew you would catch up with me eventually, Derek, Rosko cheered while his cousin untied the satin straps from around his ankles and wrists. He was glad to be released from the sopping wet bed.

What on earth possessed you, cousin? What in the hell have you been up to down here? Didn’t you hear the flood sirens? They were warning everyone for an hour at least! What were you thinking? It’s not a joke!

Yeah… Sarah took off pretty quick smart. I reckon she won’t be back anytime soon… It’s not the first time we’ve been disrupted like this, Rosko protested. I’m not buying her a another bed, not until they’ve raised them ruddy levees and fixed the canals. You know, they’re falling apart from all the stress they’ve been put under lately. The water must have come from the back end of town this time. It’s fricking unbelievable… How in the hell does something like this still happen?

Not got the foggiest, Rosko.

You know what else, Derek? With all the taxes we pay between us, that bloody bureaucracy up in the Tower of Resolutions ought to have built a whole new sea wall around the city by now.

You would think so wouldn’t you? Derek replied.

It wouldn’t take much, Derek… I’ve been thinking, while I was lying here totally incapacitated, actually an excellent idea came mind. I’ll tell you about it as soon as we get something to eat, Rosko suggested and sat up on the bed, contemplating his brilliant idea.

Yeah, Rosko, I know exactly how you must feel, Derek empathised. Maybe it’s high time we moved on up, somewhere to a better suburb. I’m sick of my life being constantly disrupted like this. I can understand why people feel neglected these days. Our lives are becoming more like hell every day and I’m sick of this outmoded, totally dysfunctional and crumbling down old building. You chose it, Rosko. Why on Earth did you choose the Diamond Casino? It’s more like a demon castle. We can do a lot better for ourselves, I’m telling you, this place has completely lost its charm. I’m gonna have to say good bye, Rosko… he complained.

Rosko was surprised to see that the shower was still working. All right. Stop winging! I’ll start looking for another place as soon as we grab some hot gnosh… I’m absolutely famished, he admitted. Sarah might not be happy that I’m leaving her. She’ll just have to find someone else to have fun with, and no, that doesn’t give you the green light, Derek, he shouted from under the shower.

Got’ya! But I never thought that conniving woman was the right bird for either of us, Rosko… There’s plenty more talent waiting out there.

Hand me that gear on the chair and just give me two minutes, Derek. We’ll take to the skyrail out of town and get us a nice big mango Boereburger. I can hardly wait!

After what I’ve been through… I’ll have to tell you all about it later. You’ll see for yourself how messed up the city looks and all. Even the big gold mines have been shut down for the day.

There had been so much rain it was causing a myriad of waterfalls and pot holes and hazards all around the mines. Men were already on their way home to take their families to safer accommodation. Almost all the workers were to struggle to find alternative dwellings even for a few weeks. Many of them would have their homes demolished and it would be years, if ever they were allowed to return to the city.

Above the city skyline the skyrail whizzed passed, taking the wealthy citizens to their mansions up in the surrounding hills. These people were not overly concerned for the poor unfortunate folk that lived on the ground level and below, and it seemed they were even less concerned for the many drowned people during these awful circumstances.

Upper city people carried on as usual. Their day consisted of the usual business lunch at the Ritzenhausens. Every restaurant table was equipped with monitor. They could key straight into the National Online Stock Exchange, referred to as NOSE. Conversations regarding the everyday running of Paragonia took place on the most sophisticated Intelligence Network System that existed in the world. Anyone living and working on the upper levels of the city could contribute and collaborate within the non-party political system.

At this level the people had everything they could possibly wish for. Clean swimming pools, shopping malls and home deliveries were just the norm. Their lives were relatively stress free and sports competitions made it possible for everyone to contribute in their own way.

Party politics no longer existed and had been replaced by a relatively simple alternative in which most people could become involved. They were expected to contribute via daily questionnaires that were distributed on the screens located in public places. Some of those places were the checkouts at shops, restaurants, libraries and cybergyms.

Statistics were stored on a gigantic computer from where all sifted data was extracted. Consideration was given by the administrators, whose responsibility it was to distribute the collective funds.

The city seemed to be at the mercy of an agglomeration of spontaneous thought, in which the population had unquestionable faith. The old party system had been replaced by a stream of interactive instaforms from the Tower of Resolutions Debate, referred to as TORD, which happened to be run by Starlineage Enterprises and Ventures, a corporation known as SEV. This Paragonian System worked well and most people could get on with their lives without a hitch. The down-side of it was that schools had become the models of society, and universities had become more like melting pots in which people learnt to conform.

SEV’s greatest achievement was the introduction of the most valuable asset in Paragonian society, being the PSXC-vaccine. Consequently this vaccine had became the number one requirement for citizens and enabled them to retain their benefits while they worked in the upper levels.

The vaccine had been created from a particular bloodline of the Paragon-Shaye-Xavier-Cross, introducing a pure extraterrestrial DNA to all recipient’s. The benefits included, instant protection from every disease known to man. This vaccine was the only sure guarantee of a person’s success with the opposite sex.

The rules were simple enough. Everyone was allowed to enter the university exams as long as they met all the health requirements. Those living on the lower levels were included in this regulation. They were able to take advantage of the opportunity to move to the upper levels. There were, however, far too many intellectual rejects living in poverty in the lower levels and they were becoming a national threat.

During recent months the Paragonian System had been under much scrutiny, since it had come to the administrators’ attention that the system was vulnerable to corruption. It had got out of hand and could no longer be ignored by TORD. There were murmurs about a possible rebellion. Crime was rampant at every level of society, according to the Galaxy News, and citizens on both levels were becoming extremely anxious.

While commuting by skyrail towards the grandest of Ritzenhausens, Rosko and Derek had noticed many labourers from the gold mines riding the trucks along the road on their way home. They were allowed to knock off early from work due to the widespread floods. Derek presumed that instead of the proprietors becoming more sensitive to the workers’ needs, the workers were becoming more rebellious and hard to control.

Times are a changing, Derek muttered as he looked out the window, watching the countryside pass under the window in slow motion. According to my observations, people have good reason to be dissatisfied with the status quo.

Rosko was satisfied to just sit back and listen to his cousin waffle on about the recent power struggles on the outskirts of the city.

Living among the lower classes with the poor over the last two years had certainly changed their perception of Paragonian society.

Rosko had heard many rumours about an imminent rebellion. He was inclined to shrug it off as merely an unsettling fantasy. Although he had seen many groups gathering in the streets, on an almost daily basis, and they were rapidly gaining popularity and force.

It was disconcerting to see the gang leaders use extremely persuasive techniques to stir up the people, promising their followers a fabulous future. They reminded Rosko of the old party political party system that enjoyed running down their opponents in public and he was totally disgusted with the degenerates.

They’re all leading in the wrong direction, as far as I’m concerned, Rosko commented and went back to his own thoughts.

Derek was thinking out loud as the skyrail sped up across the suburbs. They call themselves the Flamebusters, you know, and they intend to make a stand against the PSXC-vaccine, of all things! They say the Paragonian system discriminates against the workers. Well, that’s just ruddy stupid if you ask me… It won’t lead to any good, Rosko, are you listening to me?

It’s obvious they mean to change the whole system at TORD along with the administrators as well. It looks to me like they’re prepared to do it by any means possible… a coup d’état, if you ask me, Rosko commented under his breath.

A coup d’état? No wonder, when negotiations between upper and lower levels are extremely slow.

I suspect the administrators are ignoring the plight of half the population, simply as a matter of course, it’s no wonder they believed that TORD is an absolute sham, Rosko replied. Have you seen the shanty towns springing up on the barren hinterlands? The chasm between the rich and poor will be the catalyst for a revolution. I reckon the problem would be easily solved if they made the vaccine available to everybody, don’t you? Rosko prophesied.

Well, I think SEV are making too much of a profit from it. There’s no incentive to change the laws, yet, but it’s just a matter of time.

*

Rosko and Derek arrived at the most expensive Ritzenhausen in the highlands of Paragonia. They went straight up to the reception desk and booked themselves into an apartment where they planned to stay until they could relocate to more suitable dwellings amid the green hills.

Privileged citizens that earned the right to build mansions, by contributing a few years in administration at the Tower of Resolutions, were on the whole living off the rich and fertile valleys and plains.

Derek muttered in his sarcastic tone of voice. You do realise don’t you, Rosko, that in a nutshell this new policy of relocating Tower retirees is in effect the best way to permanently isolate them. They rarely returned to work in the city.

Yeah, how in the hell can Paragonia afford such an expense? Rosko muttered in return. He bit his lip to conceal more worrying thoughts. The last thing he wanted was an argument on the skyrail. He envied Derek’s freedom to say whatever he liked and get away with it. From his point of view, being next in line to the Krystoffe-Xavier Royal Country Estate had got many annoying drawbacks.

Young Derek was destined to follow Rosko, his senior, wherever he went and at that time the hills were the only suitable destination. These two young Paragon men were a constant companion for each another. Derek with his sun-bleached hair and Rosko with his dark wavy hair, both possessed the most dazzling pair of emerald-green eyes. They loved to keep active and workout at the cyberphysical gyms and boasted well defined and perfectly developed anatomy. Apart from being extremely fit they were also highly intelligent.

Their grandfather, Prince Baikal Xavier of the Paragon Cross, had arrived on the shores of South Africa as a young 10 year old, ninety years before, because of the Croatian/Serbian War of 1991-96. It was during that war that he had been whisked away from the port of Rijeka and sailed across the high seas with a man named Scott Dally. The prince wasn’t to return until after the onset of the Utopian War that began in Europe 2034.

The mysterious origin of Baikal’s people was to remain a secret for many years, until it was revealed to him by Livia Esthawaye. During the Utopian War, Baikal decided to go in search of the Madonna’s Cross that Livia had written about in her letters so many times.

By then the Paragon man had become renowned for his extreme intelligence and as a consequence he was feared by tall poppies wherever he settled. However his fame came from his supernatural immune system, discovered in the year 2034, just before Baikal left the country at the age of 51 and his life became somewhat a mystery thereafter.

In 2064 scientists confirmed that Paragon blood was completely disease resistant and according to popular consensus, they were also totally incorruptible in a moral sense of the word. They created the PSXC-vaccination after it had become evident that the Paragon men never fell sick and would never age and die of natural causes.

In 2014 Prince Baikal Xavier had been given a government position in Pretoria, where he lived with his wife and sons, Daniel and Tristan. He was deemed the wisest and most outstanding politician over the following nine years. However he introduced the Paragonian System, which consequently put most politicians out of work and saved the taxpayers billions of dollars a year.

There was a shocking upheaval in Pretoria in 2020 that was exacerbated by Baikal’s prediction that an enormous comet would land on them and render much of the region uninhabitable. It came to pass that Paragon people narrowly missed being wiped out by this large meteorite shortly after they had resettled on the coast on the Western Cape in 2021.

Those Pretorians were far too stubborn for their own good, Derek remarked as he took the key to their room at the Rockke Ritzenhausen Resort. They discussed the pros and cons of being a Paragon man in the lift on the way up to the penthouse. I reckon they got what they deserved when they refused to join the exodus. It sure backfired on them in the end, he argued his point.

Rosko avoided any further discussion over the fate of their ancestors. He always believed they had been victims of a conspiracy. Derek’s flippant attitude annoyed the hell out of him. He dreaded to think what might happen to them all if history were to repeat itself. At this thought he began to feel unsettled in the pit of his stomach.

They arrived at the Rockke Ritzenhausen Resort with great relief and soon found themselves wallowing in their hyppo bath in the penthouse suite. The bachelors were accompanied by two of the most beautiful Ritzenpleasure women, complimentary of hotel management.

The managers at the Rockke Ritzenhausen were especially pleased to entertain Paragon royalty as their presence was all the more of an attraction for their guests. They were renowned for bringing good luck with them wherever they went. They had acquired a following of faithful pilgrims and fanatics desirous of retracing their every step. This, understandably, was an opportunity that most tourist companies were eager to take advantage of.

Rosko sipped his bubbly champagne with his feet up on the sparkling therapeutic mud filled with plankton, and slung one arm around his Ritzengirl, while Derek enjoyed the silky earlobes of his own pleasure lady who seemed very happy to be entertained.

I must say, your ears are so perfectly formed, they remind me of the seashells on the beach… he whispered in amazement.

You are a fink, Rosko criticised his cousin. I hope you keep it in mind that these two women are purely mortals and are not to be taken for granted… especially when someone else is footing the bill, Derek… are you listening to me?

I resent being called a fink! I thought the young lady was enjoying the attention, he replied but continued to admire his partner’s anatomy.

Let’s get a fizz shower and a hair cut, Derek, we ought to go home to my parents before you get yourself overly involved. Surely you can wait till we get resettled an all, if you get my drift?

Never you mind… I would rather save this pretty damsel an unnecessary wait. She makes a lovely playmate right here and now, I reckon the girls fit into our schedule just perfectly. Bella is an absolute dream and you, Rosko, can look after yourself! Derek returned and pursing his lips while he covered Bella in shimmering mud. You know, my pet, if it weren’t for this tiny mole right here on your rosy cheek you would be absolutely perfect, he said and tenderly gazed into her sparkling hazel eyes.

There’ll be plenty of opportunity to find a playmate later, Derek… Please, no offence girls, but I’d rather meet up with you later at our own expense, Rosko explained.

Derek was an incorrigible optimist, even when the odds were stacked against him, since Rosko was determined not to give in to temptation. It was only their Paragon blood that set them apart from other men but Rosko’s plans for their future were already playing on his mind. He was busy mulling over what to say to his father about his business proposal when he got home.

The women slipped out of the mud and showered themselves off and were soon preparing the cranium cut’n-shapers. They selected the right settings and placed the clumsy gadgets on their heads to give them a nifty hair cut. The contraptions immediately started to massage their scalps to tease up the hair and for the first few minutes they felt so weird they were covered with goose-bumps.

Rosko and Derek relaxed and enjoyed the music and gazed out of the window at the vista in the sunset. They watched the cable-cars crossing the forest treetops, seeming to crawl up the side of the mountain, up towards the pinnacle of Angels Point.

Secretly they both yearned to get home to the childhood comforts in the Paragon Heights. The beautiful province with its vast patchwork of vineyards that were lined with fig trees and surrounded by olive groves was always surrounded by an aura of blue, and the smell of lavender hung in the air. The atmosphere was similar to that of the Mediterranean, boasting a variety of Greek style buildings and meadows of soul soothing buttercups and poppies that reminded many visitors of Europe.

*

King Daniel had been pruning each and every bush into shape and had managed to make an art of it. He had created many perfect bubbles and prism shaped privets that could be found all over his estate. Eva, his loving wife, was a very generous woman who was esteemed for her care of the poor and destitute people living within the city limits. She ran the charity kitchen in the heart of Paragonia.

Rosko was proud of his parents and counted the hours to seeing them again after two years surviving among commoners. He had no intention of moving back home, although he planned to get his life together and start up a new venture that involved the unemployed. He had spent six months scouting for donations for this very cause.

The more Rosko contemplated this endeavour, the more complicated it manifested itself to him. It made perfect sense to him to either get himself organised or sink into oblivion with shame of failure on his shoulders. The latter was abhorrent to him and so he sailed against the wind and the tide, for the time being, picking up whatever help he could get.

It has been quite a while since we’ve gone back home, Derek…? he implied, being impatient and in desperate needed of talking through some of his ideas.

Derek was totally mesmerised by his pleasure girl and was admiring her nipples and thought that Rosko’s timing couldn’t have been worse. His mind was on having some fun. There’s no place like home, Rosko, we can thank the floods for setting us on the straight and narrow. The suburbs are looking more appealing by the minute… I don’t remember when I had such a great time, he said without taking his eyes off his girl. Maybe we ought to stay here for the rest of the week, mate, that’s an energising thought, he admitted, yet he appeared to be all the more sluggish. He was enjoying his complimentary treatment.

Rosko worried that he was losing the plot and tried to pay attention while his own pleasure girl gently massaged his shoulders.

I feel as though my life is just beginning, Derek said and pursed his lips ready to nibble. Rosko, please say we can stay here for another three days… I beg you, one more week wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Rosko frowned. Now, I want you to behave yourself, cousin, we haven’t seen the old folks for nearly two years. Dad’s grading is coming up and he’s hoping to be accepted into the Brotherhood of Judo Masters. That’s a huge achievement, you know… We can’t miss it for anything!

I suppose he’ll want to practise with us then. He’ll need to prepare for the big competition. That’s an event we can’t afford to miss, Derek agreed but his eyes were glazed over. Before we get home, can I ask you an impertinent question, Rosko?

Don’t you always?

Is it true that your mother is a mortal?

Whatever gave you that idea, Derek? You listen to far too many fairytales. You ought to be more careful whom you listen to these days… stories like that can go feral, and they can be very dangerous, I’m tellin’ you, mate, I don’t want you to mention any gossip like that in front of my mother, okay? Rosko quashed Derek’s thoughts of proposing to his pleasure girl and noticed a blanket of thick fog in the distance roll across the fields and conceal the view beyond the grounds of the Ritzenhausen.

Rosko had never heard anything of the sort. He tried to disregard Derek’s crazy accusation about his mother being a mortal. In general Rosko never listened to hearsay but this misconstrued nonsense came as a shock. Actually, he had never given the subject of mortality much thought until now, nevertheless he realised there might be some truth in it. The general assumption though, was that only Paragon men were immortal.

Derek was left to muse in a bubble of make believe. He drifted off to a moment’s reminiscence. He wished his parents were still alive to tell stories of their own tribal days. He remembered the terrible day of tragedy when they were killed. It was during a mining accident and was the most painful memory he possessed. Ten years had lapsed since Derek mourned his parents’ tragic death. They were buried in their own gold mine, which had became their eternal tomb. He never liked to share his negative feelings. His inheritance, the estate on the opposite hillside to the Krystoffe-Xavier family estate, was being looked after by an African family who were paid for the privilege of living there.

Derek had yet to come to terms with the fact that he was sole master of the Schoemakker family estate. He was also the sole heir to the gold mine in question, even though it was filled to the brim with water.

Derek was deeply aware of how grossly disadvantaged he was for having lost his parents at the age of seven. He subconsciously clung to Rosko, his senior by one year, and looked up to him for support and guidance, since Rosko wouldn’t let him forget that he still had to learn how to survive as a Paragon royal. Derek though, had a perpetual wish to be just an ordinary human.

Chapter 2

Vision

At the gates to the Krystoffe-Xavier Estate, King Daniel was waiting in anticipation for his son to arrive home. He felt that if his wife got to him first, she would smother him in kisses and he would be whisked away before he could bat an eyelid. Daniel needed to speak to Rosko, man to man, and when he spotted him trudging up the country road with Derek, he shouted out to them with his booming voice…

Hello there! You two fuzz faces! What took you so long? We were so worried you might have got bogged down in the flood. Thank your mother’s prayers that you’re home safely now!

Daniel could hear his wife’s voice behind him escape her like a fire alarm, and he watched in amazement as Rosko ran straight passed him and into his mother’s arms. Rosko swept her off her feet and swirled her around in the air like a kid.

King Daniel felt the joy of the moment but forced himself to wait patiently for some attention to eventually come his way. He grabbed Derek around the shoulders and gave him a welcome hug. There was a lot on everyone’s mind that particular day, but it was still too early to unburden their sorrows and worries, regarding recent bad new and gossip.

One important issue on Daniel’s mind was to draw attention to the question of Rosko’s royal responsibilities. The main issue was to find his son a suitable wife and he happened to have a particular girl in mind. Gretchen was a local African girl. She was the daughter of Dr Tousard the chief surgeon at the hospital in Paragonia and a family friend for many years. Daniel hoped they would take the bait without any major intervention, but as far as Rosko was concerned, he had far more interesting things to do, adventures waiting for him out in the world.

Rosko’s mind was far too preoccupied for him to concentrate on settling down. The quiet provincial life and getting married was not part of his dream, even though he enjoyed meeting the daughters of high society, he was aware of his father’s ulterior motives.

Rosko’s interests were increasingly more focussed on futuristic ideas. He felt more inclined to go abroad to learn more, rather than remain in Paragonia. He dreamt of following dolphins and whales. Yet his dream was to get as far away from farming and gold mining as he possibly could. He had his own personal convictions for wanting a different future to that which his parents wanted for him. Rosko had never told anyone how he felt, because everyone seemed to be too busy with their own lives.

Rosko wanted to escape family tradition, to spread his wings and explore new possibilities. He realised that politics was no longer a major issue and being a politician was no longer a privilege either. Rosko openly shirked his responsibility in that regard.

He wanted nothing to do with politics and he avoided getting into any kind tawdry debate, even though his faith in TORD was extremely stretched to the limit. He needed to explore further afield and gain more insight into other available options. The Galaxy Channel had got a monopoly on presenting the world view, and it was beginning to hem in around Rosko who was ripe to do his own thing.

Rosko had it in mind to ask his father for the funds to build a shipyard. His brilliant idea included the introduction of a quality controlled factory for nautical and spaceship components that were now in great demand.

He reckoned it would be his ticket to freedom, however Rosko had no idea that he had put himself on a collision course with his father.

King Daniel always stood his ground. He was very proud of his achievements and wanted his son to follow in his footsteps, believing that the vineyards were the families greatest asset.

Eva, still dressed in her aviation gear, threw herself into a whirlwind of activity in the kitchen, setting the pace and making sure that her staff knew