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  Not turning her attention away from the scenery, Noi said, "I'm fine.... Have you ever seen anything like it?"

  "Like what?"

  "The desert, it just goes on and on. It's so beautiful."

  "I've been in the desert in Nevada, or at least, I've been through it. But I didn't really pay much attention to it."

  A half an hour went by in complete silence, except for the sound of the SUV plowing over and around sand dunes.

  "You know you can change back into your regular clothes, if you want to. I believe we're going to be riding for quite some time," Junior said, breaking the silence.

  "No, that's OK," answered Noi as she turned towards Junior. "They are comfortable, plus I'd have to change again once we get there.... You want to make out?"

  "Of course, I do," Junior said. "But if I may ask, since when do you ask me to do anything? You always just order me."

  "... Yes, about that... I'm sorry. I don't know what demon took over me back home. I should be a better wife to you."

  "... It's OK," said Junior, not believing what he was hearing.

  Noi then climbed on top of Junior's lap and started French kissing him. While excited that her tongue was fighting his to a standstill, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. And it had been wrong since he had that conversation with Prince Abdul in Noi's car.

  The luxury convoy reached its destination several hours later. In the middle of endless sand dunes, stood a mansion made of stone, stucco, and glass, which surrounded an oasis. Palm trees peeked out above the roof, as if to say, "we were here first, and we'll be here last."

  The door to Noi and Junior's Tahoe was opened by the prince, himself. "Welcome, to my humble home," said Abdul as he led them through the mansion's thick steel, entrance door, which was adorned with pounds of solid gold.

  Junior was used to luxurious surroundings, but this building made the penthouse suite in his last hotel, seem like a crack-house by comparison. The floor wasn't tiled marble; it was one solid slab of white onyx marble that had somehow been transported out there in the middle of the desert. The walls were made of humongous stones joined together perfectly without any mortar.

  Even using modern technology, several skilled laborers had to have spent their entire lives carving and polishing the stonework to perfection. Needless to say, any one of the paintings hanging on the walls and statues forever frozen in mid pose could have been featured exhibits in any of the world's finest galleries.

  "Come this way, I want to show you something," Prince Abdul said as he walked them deeper into the structure.

  In the very center of the mansion, the folly of man's work gave way to the absolute perfection of nature. A large pool of spring water shimmered in the desert sun. Giant palm trees shaded luxurious, thick, uncut grass. Small, colorful birds tweeted happily and flew from here to there. And a totally out of place, giant Galapagos tortoise munched on fresh kale.

  "Well, what do you think?" asked Abdul.

  "... I think this must be what heaven looks like," answered Noi.

  "What about you, Junior? Do you think you can live here for a couple of weeks while I attend the tribal meeting?"

  "... This is unbelievable! Why would you ever leave this place? This... is... paradise!"

  "I'm glad you both like it. Now, follow me to your suite."

  Abdul walked them halfway around the oasis to their quarters and said, "This half of the house is yours. Anything you want or need, just ask the guard outside of your door, and it will be provided. I keep a vast selection of wine, and you're welcome to drink whatever you wish. Also, I have some of the world's best chefs rotated through the kitchen, so that's something to enjoy. Any questions?"

  "Yes, Prince Abdul, may I ask why there is a guard posted outside of our door?" asked Junior trying not to sound accusatory.

  "There are roving bands of nomads in the desert. Most are harmless, but some have to be dealt with, with extreme force. But don't worry. Raids are a rare occurrence.

  Oh, I almost forgot, you have free use of the oasis. All surrounding doors and windows have been blackened out for the duration of your stay. So, if you wish to go skinny-dipping, the lady's modesty will remain intact."

  "How can we ever repay you for all of this?" asked Junior.

  "Think nothing of it," replied Abdul. "Being a good host is one of the foundations of my culture.

  If there's nothing else, I'll be on my way. I shall return with Nok within two weeks, three weeks tops."

  And with that, Prince Abdul was gone.

  In their palatial bedroom, Noi took off her burka and then her underwear. "I think I'll go out to the oasis and get a little sun. It will feel magnificent to have the sunshine all over my naked body."

  "The sun is really intense in the desert," said Junior. You could burn quickly. Let me ask the guard to get some sun block for you."

  "No, I won't stay long. Besides, I was born with a little tan. But you are whiter than a ghost. Maybe, you should stay inside, or you'll burn like a pig roasting on a spit. But whatever floats your boat."

  Noi walked outside buck naked, while Junior stood frozen in place. It was like Noi was a whole other person. She wasn't being possessive. She didn't object to wearing the burka. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she didn't have a care in the world.

  Junior lay on the king-sized, canopy bed, which felt like a cloud was supporting every inch of his body. He thought, "Something doesn't feel right about all this. It's like a puzzle and several pieces are missing, and extra pieces have been thrown if from a totally different puzzle.... Oh well, I might as well enjoy whatever this is, for as long as it lasts."

  Chapter 9

  While on a rare vacation in the Fiji Islands, Milton Van Hopenhammer Senior was called 'boss' by the islanders. It was just something they did for all the tourists. Milton liked the moniker so much that he made all the employees at his companies stop calling him Mr. Hopenhammer and instead, call him 'Boss'. Soon after that, everyone, except his wife and kids, called him 'Boss'.

  The Boss' daughter, Ruby, played a complex sonata on a grand piano in front of the packed auditorium. She didn't use any sheet music since she was born with a photographic memory and had glanced at the score, a few days previous. Even more impressive was the fact that she had just turned eleven years old.

  Beaming with pride, Boss had to marvel at his own creation. Not only was his daughter a genius, she was beautiful. Ruby had long, blonde hair, the face of a model, and an athletic body honed by years of soccer and badminton.

  The theater in which Ruby performed was refurbished with a grant from Pluto Technologies. The seats were reupholstered, and the classic architecture was spruced up just for this performance. The latest video and audio recording equipment, manned by the best in the business, caught every note and every image of the Boss' daughter with perfect clarity and high definition.

  Looking around the theater for his eldest son, the Boss finally spotted Diamond sitting beside the latest Hollywood starlet in the back row. It was evident that the two had been in the middle of some heavy petting and kissing because the girl was straightening her bra beneath her blouse and her lipstick was smeared. They must have ran out of oxygen and had to take a break.

  Diamond saw his father scowling at him. Knowing it would only make him madder, Diamond waved at his dad and wiped some of the girl's lipstick from his own lips. He liked giving the ol' man grief. It wasn't meant to be mean. Diamond was positive that his father was secretly thrilled when he added another notch in his bedpost.

  Turning back toward the stage, Boss allowed the disapproving frown on his face to morph into a smile. Diamond was the guy that he'd always wanted to be. The young man was movie star handsome, and all the ladies loved him.

  Several years ago, his wife had called him in a panic, interrupting an important meeting with a client. She had caught the then nine-year-old Diamond kissing their twenty-four year old, Porto Rican maid in th
e laundry room. Boss had dropped the phone upon hearing it and rolled around on the floor in a fit of laughter.

  Diamond had been the star quarterback at the most exclusive high school on the West Coast. He was also the valedictorian of his class. Several major universities had offered him a full ride scholarship to play on their respective football teams. Not wanting sports to interfere with his partying, he told them all to, "Go take a flying leap into a big pile of dog shit." It wasn't as if he needed a scholarship since his dad was one of the richest men in the world.

  Against his father's wishes, he had taken a year off before college and was presently screwing his way through the who's who of rich, pretty, and famous women. Two hours before his sister's performance was scheduled to start, a Pluto corporate jet had landed on a private airfield. And an awaiting limousine whisked Diamond and his temptress to the concert in the nick of time.

  Like his little sister, Diamond had an unfair advantage in the learning department. He was born with selective auditory eidetic memory, which enabled him to instantly memorize anything he heard. School was too easy. Dominating others at sports was too easy. Getting chicks to sex him up was too easy. If anything, life was so easy that it bordered on boredom for the young heir.

  Boss let Diamond get away with things he would never tolerate from his other two children. Diamond was destined for great adventures and endless poontang, but he'd never run Pluto Moon Industries. Maybe, he'd one day run one of its subsidiaries, but only as a figurehead. No, the horse to bet on in this race was Emerald.

  Emerald sat on his father's right hand side, while his mother sat to his father's left. He watched his little sister play the piano and listened intensely to every note. His ears had caught two missed keys so far, but doubted anyone other than himself had noticed.

  Emerald was the middle child. His older brother was handsome, athletic, and blessed with selective auditory eidetic memory. His younger sister was beautiful, athletic, and blessed with photographic memory. Emerald was just a step above scaring the townsfolk with his appearance and being chased after with pitchforks. He couldn't catch a ball if his life depended on it, and he had no notable advantage in the learning department.

  Early on, it was obvious to everyone that Emerald would never be the man his brother would. Diamond wouldn't study and still made straight A's, while Emerald would struggle to make B's. But the one thing Emerald had going for him was his laser-like focus.

  Childhood testing indicated that Emerald had an average I.Q., much to the disappointment of his father and mother. But Emerald refused to accept an ordinary life in the shadow of his brother. He started studying constantly, alone and with tutors provided by his father's wealth. Slowly B's turned into A's and still Emerald pressed forward.

  Emerald demanded to be I.Q. tested again, and he jumped tens of points higher. Still not satisfied, he redoubled his efforts and after endless hours of intense studying, finally surpassed his brother's I.Q. number. He'd managed to accomplish the impossible. Whether he'd become a genius through sheer willpower or awoken a dormant gene, the results spoke for themselves. Emerald was the smartest member of his family, and that was really saying something.

  Boss looked to his right at his son, who seemed spellbound by Ruby's performance. Emerald freaked him out. Oh, he loved the boy, but something was just a tad bit off, about him. He liked to be away from other kids. He excelled under the watchful eyes of stern professors at the top of their respective fields. Unfortunately, the boy took after his mother in the looks department with just a splash of his father thrown in there somewhere.

  Boss had run the DNA test himself on both Ruby and Diamond to make sure they were genetically his own. Those kids looked too perfect to come out of his baby batter and his wife's eggs. But DNA doesn't lie, and they were indeed his biological children. With Emerald, he didn't even bother to check. He was exactly the type of child he'd expected to have with his homely looking wife.

  When Ruby's performance came to an end, she received a standing ovation that went on for twice as long as an ordinary savant would receive. Without question, everyone in the auditorium wanted to score brownie points with Boss. Ruby was showered with roses and praise, and she basked in the limelight.

  For after the concert, Boss had reserved an entire five star restaurant for the night. His family and close acquaintances ate the finest food and drank the most expensive wines until Ruby fell over asleep, way past her bedtime, another triumphant day for the Hopenhammer clan.

  Chapter 10

  The next day, while writing out paychecks for Emerald's tutors, Boss thought about his middle child. Even though Emerald was a bit of an oddball, Boss had faith that his son would take over his companies in the future and expand them beyond his wildest dreams. Any doubts he had about the boy's abilities were shattered on Emerald's fifteenth birthday.

  Boss and his wife, Esmerelda, made their children's birthdays spectacular occasions, a difficult task considering the kids' everyday fairytale-like lives. As long as the bill was kept under a couple of million dollars, each child could have the biggest birthday party imaginable with all the presents they wanted.

  Ruby, always, just wanted to have small sleepovers with her closest friends. Diamond's birthdays looked like something a young Caligula might throw, with ten times the number of girls attending as boys. Emerald usually wanted to be left alone to study with his clique of teachers, but not the past year.

  When Boss asked Emerald what he wanted for his fifteenth birthday, Emerald said that all he wanted was to show his father something that he'd been working on. His father's attention could be his birthday present. Emerald's birthday arrived with Boss feeling a large amount of anxiety.

  He feared that Emerald might show him a working nuclear bomb, which he'd built in the basement. Or maybe, there was a stack of bodies hidden behind a wall in the basement. "Why did every scenario involve the basement?" he asked himself.

  Esmerelda had thrown together a party in the mansion's ballroom for Emerald against his will. German chocolate cake was served, his favorite. Also, the mandatory balloons and streamers hung from the ceiling and assorted presents were stacked high upon a table near the main entranceway.

  Ruby and Diamond were enjoying the party with their friends, even if Emerald was a no-show, so far. At precisely six o'clock, Emerald came to the party, looking for his father.

  "Are you ready to see something special, father?" asked Emerald.

  "Of course, son, I can't wait. But let me talk to your mother for a minute, first."

  Emerald ignored the various children who wished him a happy birthday, except for his brother and sister whom he thanked for coming to his party. Then he waited by the hall doorway for his father.

  Boss pulled Esmerelda to the side and said, "Look, I know I'm being paranoid. But if I don't return in half an hour, you come looking for me... and bring security with you."

  "Are you out of your mind?" asked Esmerelda in a startled voice. "That's our son! He's not going to hurt you."

  "Yeah, I know that," Boss said rubbing the back of his neck. "But something isn't right about that kid.... You do as I say, OK?"

  Esmerelda stood there with her arms crossed, shooting daggers from her eyes at Boss.

  "Did you hear what I said?" demanded Boss.

  "... Yes, I'll check on you in a half hour, but you know you're being ridiculous."

  "I know. I know... but better safe than sorry," said Boss as he left to meet up with Emerald.

  Under her breath, Esmerelda mumbled, "Stupid."

  Emerald led Boss to the art gallery section of the mansion. As he entered the large, open room, Boss immediately noticed a painting lying on the floor directly in front of one hanging on the wall. The one on the floor was turned face down so it was impossible to see what was painted on the canvas.

  "I've disabled the alarm system and looped the video feed for the gallery," said Emerald as he walked over to the picture lying on the floor.

  Boss froz
e in mid step, but made himself push onward. His missed step threw off the rhythm of their synchronized walk. Even a baboon would have turned around to see what had happened, but Emerald didn't glance back at his dad.

  Either, Emerald was too focused on what he was thinking about to notice, or he now knew that deep down, his father feared him. Boss was furious with himself. He was better than that.

  Business journals say more mega deals are done around golf courses than in boardrooms. It's easier to reach an agreement when people are at ease around one another. The relaxing pace and comradely of the golf course, greases the gears of business. Unfortunately, Boss despised the game. Instead, he used the green felt on a poker table as a substitute for golf greens.

  There was a lot you could tell about a man or woman by the way they played their cards. Some people would play every hand, no matter how lousy their cards might be. Others would always fold, unless they had a guaranteed winning hand. There were captains of industry who would pout when they lost. And some players concentrated more on smoking Boss' Cuban cigars and drinking his expensive, aged whiskey than on the actual game.

  Every action a man takes at the poker table, gives insight on how he conducts his business. Boss had lost tens of thousands of dollars on purpose in order to gain contracts worth hundreds of millions. As a general rule of thumb, the more self-righteous and conservative the businessman, the more wild and raunchy the poker game would become.

  An attractive, female dealer always dealt the cards. Boss made sure his dealers' uniforms were cut low enough to reveal jiggling cleavage. Even more skin was shown, when they dealt the cards. If the mood at the table was right, Boss would give a signal and the clothes of the dealer and waitresses would come off. However, they did keep their G-strings, on.... They had to be left with some small shred of dignity.

  On rare occasions with a table of predominantly heterosexual women or homosexual men, Boss would bring out, oiled up male strippers to serve drinks. However, the dealers had to stay female and would be dressed more conservatively than usual. He just didn't trust men to deal the cards.