The Iris Deception

Introduction:

Ki-Gor is one of my favorite characters. He swung through Jungle Stories pulp magazine until 1954. He was not simply a carbon copy of Edgar Rice Burroughs's Tarzan. Ki-Gor was the orphaned son of a Scottish missionary, raised by African natives. He is strong, handsome, sun tanned all over, and possesses deadly aim with a bow and arrow. Ki-Gor also has something that Tsrzan never had, a wife who was his equal in all the ways that count. Unlike Tarzan's Jane Porter who was forever trying to get her husband to embrace civilization, move to London and be the English lord he was born to be; Helene Vaughn went in just the opposite direction, rejecting civilization and embracing the jungle life with gusto. Helene gives as good as she gets. She is menaced as much as Ki-Gor and his other companions all while wearing a leopard skin bikini! Ki-Gor had two blood brothers, Masai warrior chief Tembu George and a pygmy chieftain and ferocious warrior N'Gesso. Together, the four got into adventure after adventure. Lost civilizations, venial slave traders, conspiring last queens of Egypt! Best of all, from this writer's perspective, Ki-Gor is in the public domain, so anyone can. add to his adventures. I hope that this excursion meets with your approval. I have sought to capture the flavor of the original novels with a bit of modern erotic sensibilities.

Sincerely, Wifetheif

**

Ki-Gor never got tired of swimming with his mate, Helene. Currently she was standing thigh deep in the crystal-clear stream at the foot of the boab tree that held their treehouse, water running off her lovely naked ivory skinned body. Her red hair was plastered down and her blue eyes were flashing.

"I won fair and square!" she exclaimed.

"I let you win!"

Helene pointed to the stake jutting from the water, "You most assuredly did not!"

"Prove it, race me again!"

She was off like a shot towards a post anchored in the flowing stream in the opposite direction. Once again, the sleek suntanned all-over young woman emerged victorious.

She darted from the brilliant white sandy bottomed stream and gathered up her skimpy halter top and abbreviated breeches and began tugging them on.

"Loser has to clean up after dinner!" she chimed.

"Hey, I caught the antelope!"

"And now you'll clean up after it!"

"You are an awful wife!"

"And you are as slow as a sleeping rhinoceros!"

Ki-Gor rushed out of the water, gathered up his loincloth and had his arms around Helene before she had scaled another step.

"Slow, am I?"

"Well, not everywhere!" she giggled, and they were in the treehouse moments later. Dinner was far later than Helene had first intended.

**

The morning found Ki-Gor scouting for game and keeping his ear to the ground. There had been some trouble of late from Arab slave traders who were using the cover of buying ivory and promises of cheap kerosene to lure natives into traps, leaving them in chains and on unscheduled trips to the coast ending in the Middle East. Most of those enslavers had been driven deep underground by Ki-Gor in league with Timbu George and the pygmy chief N'Gesso, his closet friends and blood brothers. The Arabs were persistent, however and there was always a danger that they would spring to life once more. Like a hydra, their heads of evil sprouted up elsewhere as quickly as one was removed.

His hunt was successful, he took a large gazelle. He shrugged the animal over his shoulders and headed for the local village. There was too much meat for himself and Helene to eat by themselves before it spoiled, so he would share his excess with the local tribe. It had been through countless acts such as this that had so endeared Ki-Gor and Helene to the locals. He was greeted by many hales and cheers as he entered. To his surprise, there was a white man wearing a uniform of some kind and holding a clipboard. Standing next to the man was a tall, powerfully built Asian man in a turban. Ki-Gor could not help but stare at the two of them. The white man in the uniform stared right back at Ki-Gor. While the man in the turban seemed above it all.

"Hello," said the man in a posh English accent, "I am Edward Sanders of the League of Nations Anti-Slavery Commission. We are determined to do something about that abominable problem. The League feels that boots on the ground to assess the extent of the situation is only prudent. I've been talking to these locals, but they say you are the man to talk to. That is if you are this Ki-Gor person they keep mentioning."

"One and the same," said Ki-Gor as he extended his hand.

As the tribesmen divided the gazelle into portions, the two white men engaged in conversation. Ki-Gor liked the dark-haired man immediately, he owned an engaging personality and seemed genuinely concerned with ending the scourge of slavery. He introduced his tall companion as both a Sikh warrior and his personal manservant, Sidhu. Ki-Gor shook the giant's hand and was impressed with the power and pressure of his grip. Sidhu would certainly be a fine ally to have! Conversation resumed.

"It is about time that the outside world chose to tackle the problem." Offered Ki-Gor.

"Indeed."

The two conversed with relish on the subject until many hours passed. Ki-Gor gazed at the position of the sun and said, "Much of the day has slipped away while we have been speaking like old women. Please come to my tree house for dinner. I would very much like my mate, Helene to meet you. She shares my opinion on the slave trade. In fact, when we first met, I had to rescue her from Arab would-be enslavers."

"What a capital Idea!" replied the Brit followed by, "I shan't be an imposition, shall I?"

Ki-Gor smiled. Fancy words were little help to a man unless he was trying to hide something.

"No, not at all!"

Ki-Gor collected his allotment of meat and led Sanders and the huge Sikh toward his treehouse. Ki-Gor led the way swinging ahead of the Land Rover being driven by Sadhu. Ki-Gor admired the maneuverability of the white vehicle, but he was well aware of its limitations. Unlike his elephant friend Mallu, it could not travel everywhere or ford deep rivers. Ki-Gor smiled to himself when the vehicle encountered immobile jungle two miles from his home.

Sanders exited the vehicle, stretched his legs and asked the smiling ape man, "What now?"

"From here we walk, friend."

Ki-Gor slid off a vine next to Sanders. "I will walk with you, even though it is a much slower way to travel."

Ki-Gor noted that Sanders holstered his pistol and Sandhu shouldered a long gun.

"Gentlemen, I assure you it is perfectly safe. There is absolutely no danger."

"Old habits die hard, Ki-Gor."

The lord of the jungle was amused that so many saw nothing but danger behind every tree in Africa. There was potential danger everywhere, of course, but he knew how to anticipate it and was never caught flatfooted. Ki-Gor shrugged his shoulders and led the men through the brush. A short time later the trio emerged into a beautiful clearing. Sanders in particular stared. A crystal-clear stream with a white sandy bottom stood next to a boab tree in the branches of which was nestled a delightful treehouse, carefully constructed and obviously well-tended. An astonishingly beautiful, trim, redhaired woman in just a leopard skin breechclout and halter stood in the open doorway.

"Ki-Gor!" she cried in a melodic voice, "I was getting worried."

She noted that her husband was not alone.

"Who are these gentlemen?"

"Friends! I am sure you will like them. I've brought enough meat for all of us."

"Say no more husband!"

She swung from a vine to land at Ki-Gor's feet. They embraced and kissed for a long time.

"I see your home has everything a man could desire!" deadpanned Sanders.

Ki-Gor and Helene laughed. After introductory handshakes and a brief tour of their charming home, Helene started the process of cooking the gazelle steaks.

"Dinner won't be long, gentlemen," announced Helene.

Ki-Gor noted that Sanders seemed to be paying an inordinate amount of attention to his wife as she stood working in the corner at the stove. It made Ki-Gor feel good to see appreciation for his wife in the eyes of others when it was not threatening. Sanders seemed friendly, unlike those over the years that he and Helene had been together, who looked at her in a way he did not like. Far too often, Ki-Gor had seen that look of wonder and contentment that the Englishman was wearing now turn into the basest form of lust by men, and a few women, who wanted Helene in a most ungentlemanly and unladylike manner. There were incidents in his recollections that still enraged him.

"You are Helene Vaughn, are you not?" asked Sanders.

"Well, I respond to Mrs. Ki-Gor these days but yes, that is me."

"I've read about your aviation exploits. The world of competitive flying misses you."

"But I do not miss it, Mr. Sanders! The only flying I do today, is from a vine. Celebrity turns a person's head. All that fame made me someone I am not. Here in Africa, I am who fate destined me to be. I have the perfect life and the perfect husband."

"And he has the perfect wife."

"Why thank you, Mr. Sanders!"

She smiled at the darkhaired Englishman while he nodded slightly. Helene liked Sanders from the beginning and not just because he was complimentary to her. She admired his goals. The League of Nations could only get stronger if it was able to crack down on the slave trade. She, like Ki-Gor, had a genuine affection for the local people and hated seeing them abused either by interloping slave traders or, if she was being honest, the only slightly less obnoxious colonial authorities. It didn't hurt that he was physically quite attractive, and his voice was a joy to listen to compared to Ki-Gor's accented and sometimes broken English.

"If I may be so forward, Mrs. Ki-Gor, can I offer some wine to accompany the meal?" From his pack he produced a bottle of fine French wine.

Helene's eyes lit up.

"Thank you, Mr. Sanders! Our usual option is a potent concoction brewed up by the locals. I kid my husband that it is certain to put hair on my chest one day!"

She chuckled as Sanders contemplated Helene's attractive and rather expansive chest.

After dishing out a green salad to start, Helene and the others sat about the table. Bread was passed. The wooden mugs were filled with Sanders's lovely vintage. Helene savored the aroma of the wine before she sipped it in delight.

"There are very few things I miss about civilization, but a bottle of French Chablis is one of them."

"Bringing you such delight is my pleasure, madame," stated Sanders with a nod and a smile. The four began to dine and conversation began in earnest.

Sanders shared his personal history. "I met Sadhu here in India, when I was serving in His Majesty's Royal Marines. In close fighting I not only saved Sadhu's life but also that of his parents. His debt of gratitude, which he believes he can never repay, manifests itself in service to me. Although I was not to the manor born, I have done well for myself, and I flattered myself with the notion of a gentleman's gentleman of my own. Sadhu is a skilled assassin, mechanic, chef, bodyguard and companion rolled into one. We are well-nigh inseparable now. Having seen the horrors of war, I wished to give back to the world. Helping the League of Nations take a principled stand, seemed a natural place to start. The slave trade should be abolished utterly."

They all brought their wooden goblets together as though they were clinking classes in testament to that sentiment. At last, Helene unburdened herself.

"Yes, I do have first-hand experience with those noxious Arab slavers.".

"So, I have heard, madame. What was that like?"

"Awful, Mr. Sanders, awful."

"I appreciate that, Ma'am but that is hardly descriptive."

Helene's face screwed up for a moment. She took a deep breath and continued,

"I was attempting to be the first woman to fly the length of the African continent solo. Deep in the heart of the Congo my oil pump gave out and I had no choice but to find a safe spot to come down. Below me were nothing but tall trees. At the last moment, I found a clearing just large enough to land. However, the smoke trail of burning and leaking oil that I left behind as I glided in attracted attention. Fortunately, Ki-Gor spied it. Unfortunately, so did a band of passing Arab slavers. They found me first. Those men are bestial and grasping perverts who place a monetary value on everything and every person that comes into their grasp."

Her face twisted up with emotion.

Sanders looked at her expectantly.

Helens shivered. "Suffice to say, Mr. Sanders, the first thing they do in every case, is inspect the merchandise!" Her eyes teared up at the memory. "They stripped me naked." A soft sob and a pause. "I felt like a lamb being graded at the slaughterhouse just before the killing blow was delivered!" After a pause she continued, "Fortunately, Ki-Gor came to my rescue at that very moment. He attacked the band of slavers single-handed, drove them back, routed them with his strength and deadly arrows, avenging my honor. He found me something to wear and swept me off my feet. How could I not love him after that?"

Saunders placed his palm on Helene's wrist.

"Thank you for your honesty and bravery, Mrs. Ki-Gor."

"I assure you, Mr. Sanders, I was terrified!"

"Nonetheless, you are a brave and resourceful woman who is quite capable of withstanding a great deal of turmoil."

"That is kind of you to say. While it is true that I am not the naive woman I was when I first dropped into my husband's life, I have not a tenth of his resilience and fortitude."

This caused Ki-Gor to remark, "Nonsense! You are braver and more courageous than me!"

After a poignant lull, the meal continued.

"This steak is expertly cooked, Mrs. Ki-Gor!"

"Please call me Helene, Mr. Sanders."

"This meal is wonderful, Helene."

"Thank you. I hope that my testimony was of use to you."

"It certainly was, Helene," replied the Englishman, "The fact that the enslavers are indiscriminate in their targets is significant. Do not forget that the European and American anti-slavery movements began as a response to the outrages of the Barbary pirates. The fact that the indignities were happening to people that were white, opened the eyes of the masses to the fact that those same indignities were happening as well to persons who happened to be black. Unfortunately, in this modern age, as in olden times, the west cares not when the victims are black and African. The fact that anyone is a potential target is sure to get the League of Nation's attention."

"I certainly hope so, Mr. Sanders."

"Your testimony will certainly move the League in the proper direction."

From there the conversation became more general. The wine flowed freely, and everyone had a quite mellow glow. The meal went so long that Ki-Gor invited Sanders and Sadhu to spend the night. They bunked down in the large open room. Sanders was asleep almost immediately. He awoke a few hours later to the sounds of Ki-Gor and Helene making love. The Englishman's mind filled with images of the ravishing Helene's face in coitus. Sleep came with difficulty after that lingering image. It wasn't until he focused on his work and purpose once more that he could, at last, drift off.

**

In the morning, Helene served breakfast to the men. With a kiss for Ki-Gor and a hug for Sanders and Sadhu, they departed. Ki-Gor led Sanders and his manservant back to their Land Rover before taking to the trees and beginning his day as lord of the jungle and protector of its people. Sadhu drove the vehicle for a short way. Once Ki-Gor was out of sight, however. He brought the vehicle to rest.

"You'll have no trouble subduing the girl, Sadhu?"

"Not at all, Sahib. She will not even know I am present before she is in my grasp."

"Excellent. We don't want her musclebound husband coming home early."

"The resemblance is remarkable, Sahib."

"I knew that from the many pictures of her in the magazines and newspapers. That is what sparked my interest in the first place. Now that I have seen the rest of her physique, I know that fate and fortune are mine. Befriending Ki-Gor and having him lead us to her saved so much time and caused us so many fewer troubles of intense and discreet intelligence gathering."

"Yes, Sahib. Your plan is brilliant and flawless."

"Thank you, Sadhu."

After a pause,

"You must put our plan into action now."

The giant Sikh exited the vehicle. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder and a pack on his back.

Sanders watched him stride off. Now, all he had to do was wait.

**

Ki-Gor visited several villages. He told them of his encounter with Sanders. Faces brightened at the prospect of the slave trade ending. There was scarcely a man, woman, or child who had not lost a relative to the depredations of the human flesh mongers. They all promised to look out for Sanders and his giant manservant.

He then went off to visit Tembu George to see if his good friend was up for a little hunting. It was always better to have a companion when stalking game. Not to mention the many jokes and tall tales the two men could exchange. Helene told him that men from her world had to leave their homes and toil long hours for strangers to receive gold that they then gave to other strangers to buy meat and supplies for their families. If that was civilization the crazy people of the cities and countries like England and America could have it! What need he of gold or labor for another? Humming to himself, he swung from vine to vine.

**

Sandhu returned with Helene slung across his shoulders. Her wrists were bound together and then bound to her chest. Her arms, ankles, knees, and thighs were also bound. She had been gagged and a black hood thrown over her head. She was tied so effectively and tightly that she could barley move her bonds even a fraction of an inch. Sadhu had not escaped entirely unscathed, a livid farrow left by Helene's fingernails graced the giant Sikh's left cheek.

"Did she give you trouble?"

Sadhu stroked his cheek, "A lucky strike, Sahib. I was prepared for reflexes like a she panther. Even so."

"Place her in the boot of the Land Rover. We are off for Kinshasa."

Helen felt herself set down on something soft and heard the boot lid slam shut. She recognized the sound of an engine turning over and realized that she was in terrible trouble. Helene had no idea why Saunders's manservant was sent to capture her. She understood full well however that the dapper Englishman had grossly misrepresented himself and had no connection to the League of Nations. Was his subterfuge concocted for the sole purpose of abducting her? If so, at who's bequest? Helene mentally compiled a list of the enemies that she and Ki-Gor had inspired. None of the names jumped out at her. Silently, she prayed for Ki-Gor to rescue her. The engine of the vehicle clicked into gear as it began to roll towards its destination. Helene felt every bump through the padding. Already the boot was hot and stuffy. Helene laid as still as she could to conserve her strength. At the first opportunity, she would escape.

**

The hunting was mostly unsuccessful, but the day spent in friendship was more than rewarding. He and Tembu George had taken their meager kill back to Tembu George's hut where his wonderful wife prepared them a mid-day meal. Both white jungle lord and black chieftain were positive that the rest of the day would turn up some truly impressive game, but the hunting gods were not kind to them. In the end, they were only able to take one unimposing rabbit, which would be just enough dinner for Ki-Gor and Helene. Tembu George gave Ki-Gor the rabbit with his blessing. In a somewhat melancholy mood, Ki-Gor made his way back home.