Chapter 5:
Queen Sultana
The large room is uncomfortably quiet as eyes move to one another, as if a synchronizing clock fastened to a ticking time bomb and bragging about it. Bruinen shifts in his seat uncomfortable from the silence of the room and notices others doing the same.
The tall lengthy man, the Earthlings refer to as the President of the United States, appears to age ten years in less than twenty minutes. His face pales as he falls into his seat and drops his hands into his face, rubbing it as he glares up at the table in distress. He sighs but then sits tall and addresses the conference table along with the rest of the entire room.
“I’m the President of the United States.” He pauses, “I am not President of the world or of the galaxy,” he adds as he scans to the Planeteers sitting at the table. “I am one man to represent one country. As a representative of the United States I would like to deny the entry of vampires on the United States’ soil. All those people,” he gestures to the Earthlings sitting at tables in the audience, “They also represent the United States. We have rules and regulations before writing laws.” He takes a long breath and gazes down to Queen Sultana who already acts to have lost interest in the President’s words. President Cromwell raises his voice slightly as to gather her attention, “This is a matter the United States will vote on and discuss in our own meetings. I invite thoughts among our guest to the table.”
Bruinen watches as Queen Sultana gazes at each individual sizing them up one by one. She knows that the Earthlings have little power against her, that they are about equal to the animals that her world feeds on; Most Planeteers would be more likely to have a fair fight against vampires, especially all working together, if they are on the same team, that is. Bruinen decides to speak and as he begins to form words Nawfar quickly slides her hand to his wrist and tries to nonchalantly shake her head with disapproval.
The other world leaders exchange glances and in the middle of the awkward silence Queen Sultana rises to her feet. Queen Sultana’s curvy body holds a fitted scarlet dress that hugs her bustier giving her breast a voluptuous appearance. Sleek black feathers overlap one another lining the tip of the bustier slightly shadowing her cleavage and a simple gold pennant dangles off the nape of her neck. She wears her black tresses regally to the side of her pale, oval face fancied with a subtle head piece that gloves her forehead. It slightly hides the blonde solitary trestle that intertwines the raven locks upon her head. Her lips are a swollen luxurious scarlet and contrast against her translucent amber eyes. Her black canine, branded with brown spots over his eyes, observes her slink, while not taking its’ glowing crimson eyes off of her. She waves her arm as a dancer would begin her production, “In this grand room, conquered by silence and fear, I shall be the individual to contain it," she begins, “The reason the silence is so grand is because not all the individuals in this room agree with you, Mr. Cromwell. Not even your own Earthling humans.”
The President stands up, “This is something the United States will discuss in our four walls,” He protest.
“Why not here?” she argues, “Why not NOW? The fear to admit the desires, here in this room, is frightening for you, is it not?”
A husky woman of Earthling decent pounds her fist on the table agitated and disgusted. Her words are thicker than Cromwell’s and she belts out loudly in distorted “English” words, “This is absurd. We did not invite you vampire lady for a reason,” she throws her index finger toward her; “We need discuss these things without you intimidating presence. You try making us fear you. How vampires come to Earth if they send their queen to represent them with intimidation. You controlled person to not run out of room!” she gestures wildly, “How we trust someone who uses powers to control people against their will? You are not trusted. You need to leave.”
Queen Sultana disrespectfully taps her nails against the wooden table unimpressed.
Another earthling feeds off of her theory. “I agree with President Marina Rocha,” he announces with his thick dialect, “Vampires come from a world that is still mythological to Earthlings. While you have had, perhaps centuries, of dealings with Earthlings we have only had short years to grasp the reality of you, Queen Sultana; some Earthlings still do not know the realities of you or any of the Planeteers. We, in this room, still do not know what all you Planeteers are capable of.” He reminds everyone as he scans the room.
Queen Sultana begins crossing to the other side of the table as she lowers her four legged beast to stay. “Earthlings have had centuries, your time, to deal with our kind. You have written books and made films for your brain washing media screens. You have chosen to ignore the reality that is in front of your faces…” Sultana begins to lean into the suited man whom the Earthlings refer to as President Andre` Roux of an Earth land named France. She lowers her face close to his throat while intertwining her twiggy fingers through his tie.
Bruinen grits his teeth as his patience has worn thin for her intimidations to the Earthlings and he notices that the other Planeteers are also growing impatient with her tactics.
“Enough Sultana!” Bruinen uncontrollably slams his fist against the table. Nawfar shoots him a glare that could eat through his deep navy eyes. Bruinen avoids Nawfar's eyes as he rises to his feet. “Enough, Sultana. You’re continuing browbeating is demoralizing.”
Sultana briskly turns in Bruinen’s direction as a hunter whom found its’ meal for the day. “Bruinen.” She confirms and then adds, “This business doesn’t concern you or your kind. Sit down,” she demands. Sultana begins to raise her hand to take him off his feet but he emits his hand towards her and she suddenly struggles as Bruinen fills her lungs with blood from her latest digestion, knowing it will only hold the corps momentarily. She gasps for a moment but then gains control. She delivers an unconscious growl as her body flings towards Bruinen over the table and grasps her hands around his throat, her maroon nails sinking into his chocolate skin and her hungry, golden eyes gaze into his. Without hesitation, Nawfar instantaneously stands smashing the leg from under her wooden chair and extorting it to her small hands. Without skipping a beat she grabs Sultana by her perfectly executed hairdo, pulls her head back while pressing the chair leg against her back, left side, “Let go of him if you want to walk out of here alive,” Nawfar threatens.
Sultana’s dog promptly stands on his feet and begins to growl, nostrils flaring with slobber drooling between its’ sharp teeth.
The room is still and the tension is thick.
Sultana pushes back on Bruinen releasing him from her grips. She raises her hands in a surrendering position.
“Step away from him,” Nawfar commands, “Far away from him.”
Bruinen gazes around the room of silence as everyone watches the situation intently. Sultana backs off the table and then retreats next to her canine. Her dog gives the palm of her hand a slight lick to reassure itself his owner’s safety. She softly pats its’ head as she shoots daggers into Nawfar and Bruinen’s eyes. President Cromwell slides a new chair behind Nawfar whom acknowledges the kind gesture and calmly grins at him as she lowers herself with her personal victory. Bruinen kisses Nawfar’s forehead as he places himself in his seat next to her.
“Enough Queen Sultana,” commands a Planeteer at the end of the table. It was Father Onofre, of the Cepae Planet, as close to Acquavodo that Earth is to Saturn. “Queen Sultana,” he addresses, “You have validated the fear of the humans. I assume you are satisfied with your latest triumph. Now, you shall excuse yourself and exit quietly. We are joining of peace, and you bring nothing to this table but a vampiress’ darkness.”
Sultana cackles a wicked laugh and announces between her teeth, “IF ONLY EVERYONE WANTED ME TO LEAVE.” The room goes into mild chatter and confusion. “Unfortunately for all of you, there are Earthlings sitting in this room right now that are enchanted by my elegance and ravishing to learn more of my kind. Some of you want to be like me.” She smirks toward an Earthling of royalty sitting at the table. He nervously denies the accusation.
Sultana slinks around the table rubbing her fingers on the shoulders of the leader’s neck that she has brought attention to. “I’ll visit you for a private meeting later,” she daunts in his ear as her eyes meet the others with a conquering grin on her face. He shakes his head again to confirm his innocence.
“Sultana, Enough.” Onofre demands once again now standing to his feet.
Bruinen studies Father Onofre, of the Cepae Planet, keepers of universal peace. His long white hair draped to the back of his neck and connected to his gangling beard. He wore a long gold and white iridescent robe with bronze sandals. He appears as a representation of what millions of Earthlings envision a God of their world to be, a ruler that a magnitude of Earthlings worship without witnessing a visible being. Onofre glides toward Sultana whom in return slowly and almost unnoticeable takes tiny steps away from him.
“Onofre.” She smiles before speaking, “There are those here…”
Onofre interrupts her abruptly, “Queen Sultana, you have made your point very clear. However, this is a meeting of alliances, not to negotiate building your personal army.”
“The Earthlings in…” she begins and Onofre again cuts her off.
“We have sat here and listened, quietly and inattentively to your dealings, your darkness only brings ill intentions to the PPT alliance. You are not welcomed. Leave.”
Bruinen stares more intently as the eyes in the room shift between Queen Sultana and Father Onofre; the two bodies challenge one another’s occupancy.
Sultana suddenly burst out into an uncomfortable laughter as Onofre begins walking back to his seat and lowering himself next to his two Cepaen people. Onofre ignores her laughter as he gracefully sits.
“Another time then?” she smirks. “There are deals to be made and I shall make my presence known when it is time.”
Onofre glares towards Sultana and then inattentively looks away and toward his Cepaen co-ruler, Chesna. Bruinen watches as Chesna softly places her hand on top of Onofre’s and gently strokes it with her thumb.
“Leeke, come.” Sultana commands of her four legged friend that follows her toward the door. She then pauses at the screen, hanging down from its metal stand, and turns slowly toward the crowd. “Oh, yes…” she begins as though it is an afterthought, “I was curious, ‘Planeteers’, if that is what you want to call your little universal organization;” she mocks, “What were the Earthlings’ reaction of the secret gateways that are spread through their world? It must have been shocking for them to discover their Bermuda Triangle isn’t the only portal of travel to other planets.” she pats her canine on the base of his body as she smirks, “I hope that conversation is going well. Have an excellent meeting.”
As Queen Sultana finishes her antagonizing revelation with a sly grin Earthlings throughout the room are already fracturing the possibility. Bruinen watches as the Planeteers share glances and when Bruinen raises his head back toward Sultana she has already vanished.
“Calm people. Calm.” A female Earthling whom fashions a tiny diamond crown on her head insists. “Planeteers, we have things to discuss and I suggest it happen now.”
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