Tribulations
Radittsu settled into the cold water with a sigh. Beside him, Jeice chuckled quietly.
"It's nice, isn't it?"
The big Saiyan grinned at him.
"Nice? It's sheer bliss! The first time I was here I barely had enough water to drink. There certainly wasn't any for bathing."
The family had settled into life on R'ren'nkh'ia with the minimum of difficulty. The hostlings obviously enjoyed the heat, and Jeice had acclimatised within hours, much to Radittsu's somewhat jealous annoyance. Lessons were due to start on the fourth day, using the new video screen the techs were currently installing in a spacious room close to the royal suite: on their second day onworld Zha'haabron had taken Jeice, the hostlings and hybrids on a tour of the enclave, introducing them to everyone they met, and ending up with an informal meal with the council.
The zn'hre council members had been enchanted with the children. And Zha'tiisaan had made a new friend.
The little dancer was still wearing Mahrayne's gift (he couldn't bear to take them off: he missed his teacher very much and felt closer to her when he heard the bells peal softly as he moved). Bri'seiyis, his ears attuned to music however it was produced from any source whatsoever, was instantly intrigued. He'd asked the hostling if he could see the bells: 'tiisaan, quite overcome at the distinguished azure-eyed zn'hre's attention, had mutely held his arms out for inspection. Bri'seiyis had examined the strange small devices, then very gently shaken 'tiisaan's hands, his eyes widening at the subtly-varied tones the bells produced - then sat cross-legged on the floor, quizzing the little dancer about them, his teacher, his dancing, the forms of music he'd heard and danced to… After a few minutes 'tiisaan had beckoned Jeice over, and the three of them had spent the rest of the day deep in conversation. Radittsu had frowned inquiringly at Zha'haabron, who'd beamed at him.
**Zha'tiisaan has another soul mate**
And indeed, for six days it had proved difficult to prise the three apart in the afternoons! Bri'seiyis and Zha'tiisaan were now working on a uniquely R'ren'nkh'ian form of dance, with music composed especially for the first (known, at any rate) zn'hre dancer, and also on a fusion of R'ren'nkh'ian and Hassinan dance, and also delving into Jeice's styles and forms of dance, listening closely to the variety of audio chips - from a variety of different worlds - that the subo had brought with him. The songwright had confessed to his Ssii'iin that he hadn't felt this inspired or excited for years…
'haabron, 'leesaan (and young 'selaan) had been intrigued by the different types of R'ren'nkh'ia-jin, and had already started working on Mahrayne's projects: Gh'heegonan had quietly arranged for them to spend a little time with each of the council members, initially, and later - hopefully - with some of the other inhabitants of the enclave. He'd already allocated the little princes, and the hybrids, a couple of shr'en'an guards each (although it was unlikely anyone in the enclave would try to hurt the children he had no intention of being remiss in his duty to his king) and had mentioned to Zha'haabron that, once they were a little more familiar with the enclave, they might like to 'interview' some of the other types living and working there. The king had thought it a good idea, and authorised his regent to organise matters.
'miiron, 'fallon and 'zhasaan were simply fascinated by the desert outside - the desert that Jeice still insisted was not the one within the zn'hre, although he still couldn't tell them why, or where their desert was - and spent a lot of their spare time watching the drifting sands from one of the upper windows. On Ti'aasaan's mentioning this to Mahrayne, the Hassinan had suggested they try writing down their thoughts and impressions about the desert - at first resistant, after a couple of afternoons they happily took the scribers with them, proudly sending the results to their tutor at the start of their next class.
'viirel could usually be found watching and listening to 'tiisaan (and Jeice, every three or four days) in Bri'seiyis' expansive, music-filled suite, golden eyes shining as he watched his adored sire-sib dance… Ten days into their stay Bri'seiyis' attention had been suddenly caught by a quiet but extraordinarily sweet voice singing wordlessly along to the aire he was currently composing to accompany Zha'tiisaan's dance. Slowly coming to a halt, the songwright knelt and beckoned the shy little zn'hre to him: hesitantly, Zha'viirel approached, glancing at his sibling for reassurance.
"Little one, that was very beautiful. Would you sing for me again?"
'viirel swallowed nervously.
"But I wasn't really singing, Ssii'iir Bri'seiyis…"
The older zn'hre gently stroked the hostling's bright hair.
"Then do you think, if I play a little music, you could - do what you were doing just now? With your voice?"
'viirel bit his lip, nodding quickly, and Bri'seiyis returned to the st'aa'n he was playing. Gently keying the stops, he repeated the last few phrases of the aire: 'viirel followed the melody exactly, his voice pure and perfect. Bri'seiyis beamed his delight - and immediately took the little prince under his tutelage. 'tiisaan wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or overjoyed. He eventually settled for pleased - he had to admit his little sib's voice did add something special to the songwright's music…
And 'jiisa suddenly announced he wanted to learn to fight along with 'raadiin, and joined what was rapidly becoming Ye'vena's junior combat class: once it was known 'raadiin was training, nine other zn'hre youngsters, of varying ages, announced they wanted to learn to fight, too. And 'raadiin hadn't forgotten his promise to Hijau: he'd taken to sleeping between Zha'haarak and the suite entrance, and doing his best to make sure the gentle zn'hre was safe - when he was around, at any rate.
Even 'haavok and 'honee found a new interest, as Gh'xaan, one of the tz'een techs, took them under his wing, figuratively speaking, and let them pull various pieces of his computer equipment to pieces to see how it worked.
And Ti'ani and Le'leen - well, Ti'aasaan spent a large part of their spare time teaching them how to speak in Common and R'ren'nkh'ia-go.
This didn't all happen immediately, of course, but over the course of the next twenty days, interspersed with Mahrayne's lessons and outside exercise, everyone found their own little niche...
Except for Zha'haarak. Oh, he tried to keep his distress to himself, he really did, and most of the time the hostlings didn't notice anything wrong. But his bondmates were all too aware of the depth of misery, the intense loneliness, the profound emptiness the gentle zn'hre suffered constantly. It hurt them. And Radittsu was also deeply concerned about the effect the separation was having on his second in command.
**You… you'd better go. You're supposed to be on duty…**
Zha'haarak's beautiful golden eyes brimmed with tears on the other side of the comm link. Hijau bit his lip and pressed his face to the huge monitor, his hands covering the image of his bondmate's palms as the zn'hre laid his own cheek against the Saiyan's…
Hijau could at least pretend the cold smoothness of the silicate was Zha'haarak's smooth cool skin. The zn'hre didn't even have that illusion of closeness.
*I…* He closed his eyes, unable to find the words, and focussed instead on sending an *echo* of his love, his adoration, for the gentle zn'hre across the lightyears.
Zha'haarak's tears brimmed over. Hijau reached to trace the image of his beloved's face on the screen, his own tears ignored.
*It won't be long, beloved. Please, be strong.*
Zha'haarak regarded him gravely and nodded.
**For your sake, zk'vissin**
With one last despairing glance, Hijau closed the connection and headed off to Headquarters.
Kyuri watched her commanding officer from the corner of her eye. Hijau's performance of his duty hadn't changed at all, he was the same efficient, competent acting-captain as ever. But privately she was very worried about him. Gone were the sparkle, the quietly wry, hilarious jokes the Guard only appreciated five minutes after he'd made them, the cheerful smirk that had - without anyone realising until it wasn't there any more - brightened headquarters.
He was losing weight. He was obviously not sleeping. And his scent… his scent made her alternately want to weep, or sweep him into her arms and mother him. It was exactly like a bereaved cub's, the scent of loss.
Midday came, and Kyuri entered Hijau's office, laying a hand on the suffering male's shoulder.
"Join me for lunch?"
He glanced up at her, forcing the ghost of a smile.
"I'm not hungry."
She nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as his attention returned to his desk - then made her way to the messhall.
Returning a short while later with an overflowing platter. Just outside Hijau's office she met Apyo, on his way back from his own meal. He looked quizzically at the platter and grinned at her, one eyebrow quirked.
"And how many are you feeding?"
She frowned, then indicated Hijau's door with her head, speaking in an undertone.
"Could you take over for me for half an hour?"
Suddenly serious, he nodded understandingly. They were all worried about the flame-haired male.
"Try and get him to eat if you can. But I think what he really needs is a good long satisfying fuck." He glanced at her determined face, his eyes widening. "You going to try that too?"
"I'm going to offer. Try to make sure we're not disturbed, will you?"
He nodded.
"Of course. Good luck."
She smiled as he retreated. There was a hint of jealousy in his scent, though whether for herself or for Hijau she couldn't say…
She knocked, then entered without waiting for the officer to reply, locking the door behind her and setting the platter down on his desk. He glanced at it, then gazed up at her wearily.
"I said I'm not hungry."
"I heard you." She moved to stand before him, briefly cupping his face in her hands, frowning to herself. He was far colder than normal…
His eyes wary, he watched as she pulled off her light armour, then coolly stripped off the bodysuit underneath.
"What are you doing?"
She leaned back on his desk, arms folded across her breasts and ankles crossed, head inclined and heavy dark-red mane spilling over one shoulder.
"What does it look like?"
"A blatant attempt to seduce me." There was the tiniest hint of a smile, of his old sense of humour, in the reply. She smirked.
"If I was going to seduce you, Hijau-sama, I'd take you somewhere a lot more romantic than your office."
"Then…"
She laid strong slender fingers across his lips, feeling tears building as that 'lost' scent suddenly intensified.
"I don't pretend to be Zha'haarak, but you need some relief from this… stress."
"I don't want…"
"What you want, sir, is immaterial. You need this. If you keep on denying yourself you're going to make yourself ill - even if you can stay in control. And if you can't, you could hurt other people as well as yourself."
He stared at her, stricken, slanted eyes suddenly bright with tears.
"Kyuri… I… I can't…"
Expression determined, she slid her legs over his thighs and sat on his lap, facing him - feeling the sudden hardness at his groin as her own scent (aroused, arousing, he was a beautiful male) filled his senses. She leaned forward and slightly down, wrapping her arms around his neck and brushing his ear with her lips.
"Please let me, Hijau-san."
He sobbed and buried his face between her breasts, holding her tightly as his tears ran hot over her skin, then not resisting as she sat back a little to pull his armour over his head and bodysuit off his shoulders and down his strong, golden body, lifting herself a little to ease it over his hips and erection - then sliding onto his shaft as he gasped and pulled her tightly to him.
It only took him seconds to come, the first time, body tight and hard as he throbbed within her, mouth hot on her breast as he sucked at her nipple. Then, before she had time to draw breath, he slid from the chair, carrying her with him to the floor, somehow shrugging out of his bodysuit as he did so. Wide-eyed, she stared up at him, then wrapped her legs around his hips and her tail around his bicep as he tucked his knees under her backside and began to pound into her…
Her shoulders were aching and grazed from the rough wood of the floor by the time he came, growling low in his throat, eyes tightly closed and tail tightly wrapped around his waist: she smiled wryly - keeping your tail for your bondmate? I don't blame you…
In one smooth movement he pulled her upright and against him, settling back so that he was cross-legged with Kyuri sitting in his lap. He was slower this time, more considerate, lips and tongue and fingers caressing her throat, breasts, gently biting at her nipples, strong hands sliding down her back to tease around the base of her tail, knead her buttocks, one sliding around to fondle at her groin… gasping, her head rolling backwards, she climaxed, clenching internal muscles pulling him into another orgasm.
She hugged him, hard, feeling his body shake in her arms as he wept.
*Hijau-sama…? Please don't grieve. He wouldn't want you to grieve…*
*… I can't help it… It feels like half of me is missing…*
*But you must be strong. He needs you to be strong, so he has a heart-home to come back to.*
She felt him nod against her breast.
*I know. But it's so hard.*
She cupped a hand under his chin and pulled his face up to hers.
*I know. But I'm here, if you need any help.*
He took a deep breath, closing his eyes.
"Thank you."
She pressed a brief kiss to his mouth.
"You're welcome, sir. Any time."
They rocked very gently in each other's arms for a few more minutes - then Kyuri sighed and reluctantly pulled herself from his lap, slipping into her bodysuit. He was still hard, and still aching with the loss of his bondmate, but that overwhelming need was gone, at least for now. She smiled as he pulled himself upright and dragged his bodysuit back on.
"Will you eat now, sir? Please?"
He gazed at the platter of almost raw meats, grimaced, then nodded.
"I'll try."
She stroked the flame-bright mane.
"You must. You're getting thin."
He scowled at her.
"You sound like Radittsu."
She blinked for a moment, then grinned.
"If that's what it takes to get you to be sensible, I'll try harder next time!"
He smiled painfully and sighed.
"Very well. Will you join me?"
She shouldn't, really: she'd already been in here more than an hour, and she needed a shower - not that that would hide Hijau's scent - but… if she stayed, she could at least see that he ate a decent meal. She nodded, smiling.
"I'd like that…"
Her entrance into the main office was greeted by knowing grins, loud sniffing noises and sniggers - which normally wouldn't have bothered her, but she was suddenly pissed off by the childishness of it. She rounded on her fellow Guardsmen, teeth bared, snarling.
"Fuck off the lot of you. What did any of you do to try and help him?"
There was a sudden, awkward silence - then the usual muted purr of activity resumed as everyone turned back to work, a little embarrassed, and, in a number of cases, distinctly jealous…
Hijau rested his elbows on his desk, his face in his hands. Feeling - quiet. That terrible omnipresent aching throughout his body had diminished to a level he could ignore - for now, anyway. Kyuri had been right, he had needed the physical release.
He realised, with a dreadful sinking feeling, he was going to need it more and more often as FullMoon approached.
I'd settled the heirs down early, and joined Vejiita on our balcony. A low table set with a variety of delicacies and a flagon of wine sat in one corner: Vejiita stood gazing out over the military compound, a full beaker in his hand. I retrieved mine from the table and joined him, a shiver going through my body as his tail stroked down my back. He was still as exciting, as arousing, as when we first met. I don’t think I'll ever tire of him, grow used to him.
However, I had something I needed to ask him. He glanced sideways at me and smirked.
*What do you want?*
Direct as ever. So was I.
*Why won't you let Hijau go to R'ren'nkh'ia? You wouldn't keep Saiyan bondmates apart at FullMoon: why are you being so cruel to him?*
He turned to face me.
*You think it's cruel?*
I frowned.
*Vejiita, if you could see how unhappy he is, you'd know it's cruel.*
He smirked, but it was cold.
*Call it - an endurance test.*
*But…*
He glowered at me, and the subject was closed. Which was a bloody pain in the arse because I didn't have a clue what he meant…
"Mmmmm………"
Radittsu sighed and wriggled slightly as Jeice massaged sunscreen into his back. Bataa hadn't been joking when he said the subo was skilled in the art: those small hands had an almost magical ability to soothe or arouse…
Zha'haabron was spending a lot of time with the council, catching up on the fine detail of the current state of his realm and debating strategies for the future: he'd even taken 'haabron and 'leesaan with him on a couple of occasions, so they could see what happened at the meetings. Radittsu had had a quiet word with Gh'heegonan, asking that he make sure the king didn't overtire himself, but so far he seemed to be having no problems. Ti'aasaan and Zha'haarak joined in the morning classes, in Ti'aasaan's case mostly to help his sirelings. Ti'ani and Le'leen's speech had improved immensely, but they still needed a lot of practise, and they tended to get extremely frustrated if they couldn't work out how to pronounce the word they needed. It had been decided, the first time Le'leen had smashed his portable scriber by hurling it at the wall in a fit of pique, that it might be wise for the little zn'hre to be on hand to *translate* into speech for the pair as needed.
Hijau always arrived as Mahrayne was finishing up the lesson, regardless of the time of day on Vejiitasei, and he and Zha'haarak spent some time speaking, or simply gazing at each other on the screen. Radittsu doubted very much that it actually helped ease the pain of separation for either of them, but no-one was prepared to deny them what little comfort they found in the sight and sound of each other…
Radittsu stretched and rolled over. He was due to join Ye'vena's group in half an hour: the shr'en'an had asked him to demonstrate how a Saiyan dealt with desert combat, hence the thorough sunscreen application. He smirked up at the subo sitting on his abdomen, pouring the smooth, musky-sweet lotion onto his chest. Jeice's expression was sombre, concentrating on his task: Radittsu stroked his tail across the little alien's cheek.
Jeice paused, strong small hands resting over the Saiyan's nipples, and smiled, slowly wriggling against the erection he felt pressing into his back.
"Raditts'-sama? Is there something else I may do for you?"
The captain blinked. So far he'd not even suggested that he and Jeice indulge in any kind of sex - he was concerned he'd be far too big for the little subo. Then again, Jeice wouldn't be too big for him… He shook his head reluctantly.
"We don't have time… and that's not…"
Jeice interrupted him, head inclined, a thoroughly impish grin on his face.
"Surely we do…"
And before Radittsu could object he'd twisted round and taken the Saiyan's shaft into his mouth. Radittsu yelped as the clever studded tongue swirled around his rigid flesh while small hands kneaded his balls and tickled the skin behind them, the sensations shooting from his groin right up to the top of his head as he gripped the subo's buttocks. Jeice chuckled, vibrating his tongue as he took Radittsu deeper into his throat, and the Saiyan's arousal rose another notch - then hit the roof as the subo teased a finger into him, aiming unerringly for that spot... Groaning, Radittsu bucked and came, gasping as Jeice swallowed slowly then allowed the still-firm shaft to slide slowly from his mouth, his tongue licking from side to side as he did so. Finishing with a slow, hard lick to the Saiyan's balls, Jeice swivelled to lie on top of the captain, elbows on the broad chest and his chin in his hands, grinning.
Radittsu glared at him.
"All I wanted to do was ask you if you'd take care of the Ssii'irin!!"
The subo smirked and kissed the hollow of his throat.
"Why didn't you say so?"
"You didn't give me time!"
Jeice chuckled to himself. Radittsu was so easy to tease… He sat upright, straddling the Saiyan's waist, and pretended to look hurt.
"Didn't you enjoy yourself? Did I do something wrong?"
"Of course not!" Radittsu growled. "But…"
"You can fuck me, next time, if you like."
The big Saiyan snarled his irritation and sat up, causing Jeice to slide down to sit in his lap - which only made the situation worse as the subo's studded penis rubbed against the captain's tumid shaft, bringing him instantly, rigidly erect. Jeice gazed down, for a moment admiring the colourful effect of dark red studded flesh contrasted with rose-gold solid smoothness, then smirked up into wide ebony eyes.
"Ooops."
For one moment it looked as though Radittsu was going to explode - then he shoved a hand through his mane, closed his eyes briefly, and laughed, pulling Jeice into a hug and kissing him thoroughly.
"You are positively evil."
The subo grabbed a hank of mane at each side of the Saiyan's face and grinned.
"I know. Can't help it."
Radittsu sighed and pushed him back slightly.
"I really don't have time to repay the favour - I'll be late for the brats if I don't get a move on."
Immediately all business, Jeice slid from his lap and gestured for Radittsu to stand up as he poured more lotion into his palm. As the Saiyan obeyed he quickly and efficiently worked the sunscreen into the muscular thighs.
"Later will do just fine, Raditts'-sama. And I will be delighted to try to help the prince." He paused for a moment and gazed sombrely up into anxious black eyes. "I can feel how much he's hurting. I'll do what I can to ease his pain."
Radittsu smiled.
"Thank you."
Jeice smiled back.
"It is my pleasure."
The hostlings had all dispersed to their various afternoon activities, Zha'haabron was still with the council, and Ti'aasaan had disappeared to the sound chamber Zha'haarak had found that first night. The prince had spent a little time talking to his bondmate, and now limped back to the suite alone, exhausted from lack of sleep, loneliness a soul-deep ache within him, frightened to realise how thin his zkai'din had become in such a little time. But at least the Saiyan had friends to help him deal with the physical stresses.
…it's not long… it's not long, really…
But it felt like forever. There were times Zha'haarak wished they'd never bonded - at least with the previous half-bond he'd be the only one suffering.
Once in the suite he headed for his shelf, and the ream of paper Mahrayne had given him along with a variety of styli, intent on trying again to draw his bondmate from memory - he hadn't yet managed to get Hijau anything like right, but the activity was soothing, and for a while he could focus on his beloved without the yawning sense of loss overshadowing him. But as he sank down onto a floor cushion Jeice appeared from their personal storeroom, carrying a plate of honeycakes and warm yardle syrup. He dropped to one knee before the prince, offering the delicacy with a smile.
"Please, your highness. You also are growing thin."
It was true, he had lost his appetite and hence a little weight, though nothing like as much as Hijau. But the smell of the honeycakes brought back that wonderful last afternoon in the palace grounds on Vejiitasei, when they'd sat together simply basking in each other's presence in the sunsshine, and almost without realising it he ate all of the sweet little treats.
Jeice watched him, and as he finished the plateful the subo laid a hand gently on his arm.
"May I dance for you, your highness?"
Zha'haarak gazed at him for a moment, then nodded hesitantly.
"I think… I think I would like that."
"One moment, please, your highness…"
Jeice smiled and rose, heading for his room. After only a minute he exited again, dressed in a brief bodysuit of the sort the Elite Guard mostly wore - the sort that Hijau wore…
The audio chip was soft, gentle, more a gathering of natural sounds than actual music. The sound of the sea, distant birdsong, a faint drumming… It sounded warm. It sounded like Hijau's home island, basking in the sun to the south.
And he danced, and it was Hijau, somehow, his mannerisms, the way he walked, the way he moved, the way he tugged at his mane when tired or confused, the little sideways inclination of his head when he was amused - the bright-eyed, slightly awed smile that lit his face whenever he caught sight of his beloved…
Zha'haarak watched, his heart full, the slow tears trickling down his face disregarded. As the music faded, Jeice knelt on the floor cushion and pulled the zn'hre to him, arms around his shoulders and hand stroking his hair, exactly as Hijau did, and the prince wept, somehow comforted, his own arms around the subo's neck.
So much love… There'd been so much love in the dance, for Hijau, for Zha'haarak. Jeice had meant every single moment of it - the prince could feel thin tremors of fatigue in the slight body in his arms. The subo had poured everything into the dance, to try to make Zha'haarak feel less lonely.
The zn'hre kissed the soft white hair, cool hands stroking the slim shoulders, then lay back on the cushion, pulling Jeice with him.
"Thank you."
The little alien sighed and kissed his shoulder.
"No need. It hurts to see you suffer. Anything I can do to ease your pain, I will do."
Zha'haarak gazed at him for a moment, then smiled tremulously.
"Make love to me?"
Jeice pushed himself up onto his elbows and gazed into shadowed golden eyes. Smiling gently he slid out of the bodysuit and into the slim green body below him, movements slow, soft, a tender coupling that left both languid and peaceful.
Even if for only a little while…
They were curled together, asleep, on the cushion when Zha'haabron returned to the suite several hours later. The king smiled at the expression on his host-sib's face: he hadn't seen the prince so at peace since before they left Vejiitasei. It would be beneficial for Hijau too - Zha'haarak's relief from stress would have calming, soothing repercussions for the Saiyan through their bond. The king left them to sleep, *requesting* that the rest of the family do so also.
As the sun sank towards the shimmering tawny-gold horizon and the day's ferocious heat began to cool a little the rest of the family joined Ti'aasaan in the sound chamber, welcoming the slight evening breeze that set the chimes spinning and pealing gently against each other, catching the evening light and filling the room with sparks and glimmers of gold. The hostlings were quite enchanted - even 'raadiin - by the place, and sat and listened and gazed out over the desert as Radittsu wrapped his arms around Zha'haabron from behind, hands and tail curled protectively over a belly that was now definitely swollen and growing noticeably larger every other day. He nuzzled the king's neck.
*Have I told you I love you yet today?*
Zha'haabron chuckled.
**Only twenty-seven times**
*Tch'… I'm slacking...* He froze, eyes widening. *Beloved…?*
Zha'haabron had winced, then also frozen. He laid both hands over his abdomen close to the Saiyan's - then glanced over his shoulder at Radittsu, his expression one of wonderment.
**… they moved…**
Radittsu hugged him tightly, trembling with delight, a deep rumbling purr starting up in his chest.
*They did more than move, beloved. They kicked!* He licked, and then nipped at the king's claim mark. *Heh - you can tell they're part Saiyan, already!*
Zha'haabron leaned back against his bondmate, aware - even with the joy flooding through him - that if the hostlings were this active already things were likely to get quite painful for him later, and not caring.
Their children. Their own hostlings.
They'd be able to *speak* soon…
© 2002 May 3rd Joules Taylor
st'aa'n - the basic R'ren'nkh'ian musical instrument. The original was a pipe with holes that was hung where the breeze could blow through it: later this was developed into a wind-instrument something like a recorder and played in much the same way. As time went by more and more complex versions were created, in a host of different sizes. What Bri'seiyis uses, however, works rather more like a Terran organ: air is forced through a full range of pipes (mounted together on a stand) electronically, the individual pipes, and all the stops, operated by a complex keyboard - allowing him full control over the music he creates without having to have a full complement of musicians present!
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