Every Mans Fantasy Ch 14

Author's note:

Thanks for your patience. It's been difficult to find the time to work on this story; and this chapter is the longest so far.

Chapter 14 carries on directly from chapter 13.

***

1The Cloner Fair

Two riders appeared at the crest of the hill overlooking the Cloner Fair.

It was a colourful scene. Rows of tents lined up across a large field, flying red, blue, green, brown, white and gold banners from their top-poles. These were the colours of the six tribes of Samothea.

Next to the tents was a market-place. Two lines of wooden stalls with striped sunshades surrounded an open square, with cooking stoves at one end and a large tent-roof at the other end, sheltering a dozen upholstered chairs from the strong morning sun. Women milled in and out of the stalls, handling the goods and haggling over prices. Other women cooked lunch, gossiping as they stirred their pots.

Beyond the market-place was the Cloner City: about thirty cubes grouped around a tall central building with a green roof. White plasto-concrete shimmered in the mid-day sun, giving the city the appearance of a mirage. A wide shallow river kissed the north edge of the settlement, sparkling silver as it flowed lazily to the delta, a mile to the west.

Just as some women at the fair noticed the riders, Megan's horse whinnied and stood rampant, kicking her front legs in the air.

"Show off," Ezra said.

"You know it," she replied, then she urged her horse on and they trotted down the hill toward the fairground.

Mirselene, Calliope and Solange were sitting together in a tent with its sides raised to invite in the mid-day breeze, enjoying a friendly bickering. Someone alerted them to the riders and they came out to look.

"It's Ezra and Megan," Solange said after a quick glance.

Mirselene squinted myopically at the horizon. She couldn't even see the horses, let alone recognise the faces of their riders.

By the time Megan and Ezra reached the tents, many women and children crowded their path, eager to see the new arrivals, who dismounted and walked the last fifty yards. Ezra fondly greeted everyone he knew (Megan reminded him to compliment the short haircuts of his friends - which, being a man, he wouldn't have noticed) and he gave a polite "Good morning" to all the others. The bold ones stared. The silly ones giggled.

When they reached the three chiefs, the women had formed a circle around them. Taking charge both by natural habit and the fond forbearance of the other chiefs, Mirselene pushed her way through the throng.

"What is it, Ezra?" she asked.

"Can we talk privately?"

"Of course. Come into the tent."

Solange's bedmate, Ash, helped Megan unload the horses and stow their panniers in one of the Herder tents. They led the horses around the edge of the camping-ground to the paddock, with its row of wooden troughs and shelters for the horses. On the way back they passed the children's play area, furnished with a climbing frame, a sand-pit and a maypole with brightly-coloured ribbons.

Megan had many friends at the Cloner Fair, who stopped her for a chat and slowed her progress back to the tent, where Ezra had followed the three chiefs. The tent had wooden benches with cushions, courtesy of the Cloners. Solange sat down next to Ezra and rubbed up close, putting her hand on his knee.

"Really, Solange," Mirselene said. "Is this the time?"

Solange graced the Woodlander chief with a shameless smile but thereafter sat nicely, knees together, hands folded chastely on her lap.

"Go ahead, Ezra," Mirselene said. "How's the salvage going?"

"It's been successful," he replied, "but we've met a problem. There was someone aboard the ship."

"Whom?"

"A woman. Her name is Yumi. She stowed away in one of the emergency escape pods."

"She's alive?"

"In suspended animation."

Calliope looked up.

"Which is what?" Mirselene asked.

"A medically-induced form of hibernation. Yumi is alive but it's like she's asleep and aging very slowly."

"Interesting," commented Calliope. "Tell me more."

"No time for that," Mirselene commanded. "Continue, Ezra, it must be something important to make you and Megan ride all the way here."

"There are some problems. On-board ship, the pod was using up its power, so we brought it ashore to charge up in the sun. It's keeping Yumi alive but I think it's best to revive her as quickly as possible."

"Will that be difficult?"

"The escape pod has the medical ability to revive her but things sometimes go wrong, so it's normally advised to perform the procedure in a hospital."

"We have no such thing," Solange said.

"What can go wrong?" Calliope asked.

"Heart-attack, stroke; any kind of organ-failure is possible. Yumi will be very weak."

"So what do you suggest?" This was Mirselene again,

"I want to look through the Cloner City, to see the medical equipment they have. Maybe some of it still works. After all, my laser pen works and I found working torches on my ship."

"Yes, why is that?" Calliope asked.

"Don't deflect us, Sister," Mirselene interrupted.

"Actually, Mirselene, I'd like to answer Calliope's question. The reason I think my laser pen and the torches work is that they are very simple technology. Simple and robust. Such devices withstood the cosmic rays that damaged my more delicate engines and guidance system."

"And the emergency escape pod?" Calliope asked. "How did that keep working?"

"The pod is designed to be very robust and works by bio-mechanics and molecular nano-technology."

"Whatever they are," Mirselene said, a little impatiently.

"The point," Ezra explained, "is that the pod has little electrical circuitry, which may have been fried by radiation from the star Sothis. Also, the radiation one-hundred years ago would have been much more intense than now. It may be that some of the old-Earth technology that the Cloners have collected so avidly could work again. It's worth looking into."

The chiefs pondered this, then Mirselene pointed out something obvious.

"The Cloners don't do favours and they keep their Earthside technology to themselves. What can we give the Cloners to persuade them to help us?"

"They can have the escape pods," Ezra suggested. "Yumi's one won't be much use after she's been revived but the other one probably works. Also ..."

"Yes?"

"... they can have Yumi."

"What do you mean? She's not yours to give away."

"What I mean is that Yumi will fit in well with the Cloners. She's an engineer and a scientist. If anyone can get old-Earth tech working again, she can. Also, I think she'll appreciate the more comfortable kind of life the Cloners lead. You've often mentioned their luxuries."

Mirselene instinctively bristled. As the chief of the smallest independent tribe, she took for granted that any spare people would join the Woodlanders. Despite her tribe acquiring five new members in the last year (that is, Wildchild, Tamar, Eliose, Adarna and Freya), with three more on the way, plus a third-share of Ezra, yet it offended her swollen pride that Yumi should join the richest and biggest tribe, even if living with them would suit her better.

Mirselene began to protest but failed to get any words out before Solange, who read her mind faultlessly, deliberately interrupted:

"Will it be easy to get the escape pod here, Ezra? What will it do to Yumi?"

"The pod can roll or be dragged on a sled, even carried on a raft. I don't know what it will do to Yumi but it must be best not to move the pod again, if possible. There's no point in bringing it here if the Cloners have no better medical knowledge than Calliope or Parvinder."

"They have the medical text-book, of course," Calliope mused, "but I'm not sure they are better doctors than us."

There was a pause as this opinion was digested; then Solange again showed her instinctive ability to read minds.

"What aren't you telling us, Ezra?"

"Something important, Solange. ... I think Yumi is pregnant."

There was a general exclamation.

"Good lord!" said Mirselene.

"Good heavens!" said Calliope.

"Fuck me!" said Solange, adding: "Is it yours?"

"No," he said with clear conviction.

Solange smiled widely in evident disbelief.

"Immaterial at the moment, Sister," Mirselene ruled. "How many months pregnant is she, Ezra?"

"I don't know. She isn't showing a bump yet. The only reason I know she's pregnant is that the vital signs indictor on the pod reports two heart-beats, one very slow, the other a little quicker. I'm guessing she's less than three months."

"And is the child growing while she's in the pod?"

"Yes, but much more slowly than normal. Yumi won't give birth if she's still in suspended animation; but it's another reason to revive her as quickly as possible."

There was enough information now for the chiefs to have a meaty argument. They fell to discussing the problem while Ezra sat back and didn't interfere. The argument hadn't got far, however, before a messenger from the Cloner Chief scratched at the door post.

A pretty blonde teenager came into the tent.

"Madam Gloria sends her greetings," she announced, "and offers Ezra Goldrick the hospitality of the Cloner Tribe. Would you all care to take tea in the meeting tent?"

"Thank you, Hazel," Mirselene answered. "We will attend Gloria in a quarter-hour."

"Very good, Madam."

The girl curtsied and left.

Ezra waited patiently while the three chiefs quickly finished their argument and then made themselves ready to bring him to meet the Cloner Chief.

The meeting tent was on one side of the market square and was covered by a green tarpaulin. Loose swathes of thin red and yellow cloth hung in loops a quarter-way down each side, swaying in the cool wind that breezed down the valley from the mountains. It was the breeze that made the climate of the Cloner City the best in the tropical zone of Samothea.

As they walked through the busy stalls to the tent, Solange explained how the Cloner tribe was governed:

"Gloria is their chief, elected about six months ago for five years. They call her 'Madam Gloria'. She's head of the Cloner Council, which has five members. The other four officers are heads of the disciplines essential - so they say - to the life of Samothea. They are: Madam Medic, Madam Scientist, Madam Lawspeaker and Madam Recorder."

Ezra was amused by their titles and wondered what Madam Recorder did.

"Madam Recorder is the historian of the Cloners and all Samothea. She remembers everyone's name and ancestry, all the way back to the Founders."

There were only three council members present when they reached the meeting tent, sitting at one end of a semi-circle of well-made wicker chairs with plump cushions. They rose to greet the three chiefs and the stranger from Earth.

"Welcome to the Cloner Fair, Ezra Goldrick," the chief said. "I'm Gloria."

"Pleased to meet you, Madam. You've put on a fine fair."

She bowed to acknowledge the compliment.

"These are my colleagues: Madam Recorder and Madam Lawspeaker."

"How do you do, Ladies?" Ezra said, politely bowing his head to them.

They greeted him with nods.

As the hosts and visitors took their seats, the pretty messenger and another girl of the same age brought tea in a genuine china pot with genuine china cups. They set up a small portable table and poured the tea. After handing out the cups, they curtsied and withdrew to a corner of the tent, standing quietly and alert.

Ezra barely noticed the tea-cup in his hand. His attention was focussed on the Cloner chief. Aged thirty, Gloria was plain but with large intelligent brown eyes, dark-brown hair impatiently pinned out of the way behind her ears, thick glasses with wooden frames, beautiful clothes she cared nothing about and a deceptively mild and approachable manner.

She looked at the world with serious concentration and anything caught in her gaze seemed to become more real. Ezra felt it. Her intelligence was palpable and drew him in.

The sexual appeal of brains can never be over-estimated. Everyone saw the instant attraction Gloria had for him; even Mirselene, who looked wary. Calliope was neutral: she thought it was a complication, not a danger. Solange smiled her indulgent uncomplaining smile; but Madam Lawspeaker was frowning with profound displeasure.

"I'm pleased finally to meet you, Ezra Goldrick of the Three Tribes," Gloria said. "Why did you take so long before coming to visit us Cloners?"

"I've been busy, Madam."

Gloria blew on her tea and took a sip.

"I know," she said. "Congratulations on the birth of your daughter. I'm told mother and child are doing well."

"Thank you, Madam. They are."

"She's not your first child, I assume?"

"Actually, Freya is my first."

"But you left her behind to come here?"

"It was a difficult thing to do, Madam, but necessary. Annela understood."

"How was it necessary?"

"I'd like to ask a favour of the Cloners."

"I'm listening."

"I'd like to look through your famous store of old-Earth technology, especially your medical technology."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm happy to show you around. Shall we go when you've finished your tea?"

Ezra was startled. He almost dropped the tea-cup. He'd expected Gloria to say No and was prepared to bargain.

"Yes, of course," he said. "Thank you."

He hadn't touched his tea. He quickly put the cup to his lips and began sipping.

"Gloria," the Lawspeaker spoke in warning tones. She had a low-pitched slightly rasping voice. "Aren't you curious to know why Ezra Goldrick wants to see our technology store and medical equipment?"

"I'm sure he has a good reason," Gloria said, unconcerned. "Or do you fear he might learn our secrets?"

"Of course not, we have no secrets; yet I would like to know his purpose."

"You're free to ask him when we return, Madam," she said, getting up. "Are you ready, Ezra Goldrick of the Three Tribes?"

He quickly downed his tea and bent over to put the cup on the ground when he found it being collected by one of the girls who had served the drinks, kneeling daintily beside him. He gave her the cup with thanks and got up to follow Gloria. The Cloner women also rose as their chief did.

"No, sit down," she said, "finish your tea."

Under the surprised gaze of Mirselene and Calliope (though not Solange, who was never fazed by anything), Gloria led Ezra out of the tent, through the market and across the wide field to the Cloner City.

As they walked, a crowd of women and girls followed them through the fair at a respectful distance, keen to see anything new and exciting. The women nattered among themselves and the hubbub made Ezra turn around.

"Don't turn," Gloria warned, "you'll just encourage them," and she picked up the pace a little.

Behind them the hubbub gradually died down until only one voice was clear, the slightly rasping tones of the Lawspeaker, demanding Gloria and Ezra be left alone and the women go about their proper business.

Soon there was no train following them. They were alone as they crossed the boundary of the City.

2The Cloner City

The word 'City' was a magnificent exaggeration for the settlement of small pre-fabricated houses plonked haphazardly on the flat grassy floor of a well-watered and comfortable valley. The houses were separate units surrounded by gardens adorned with fruit bushes. Every house had wooden shutters protecting its west-facing windows. Palms lined the wider paths and stood sentry at the city borders.

A wide avenue criss-crossed by muddy footpaths led to the central hall, the only two-storey building.

As they walked, Ezra addressed his hostess:

"Madam Gloria, I'm happy to tell you why I want to see your medical equipment."

"No need," she assured him. "Save it until you meet the whole council. Whatever your reason is, we will benefit if you can make any of our old-Earth technology work. That's what I'm mainly interested in."

"Besides," she continued, after a pause, "the Lawspeaker is an old fusspot who likes the sound of her own voice. I enjoyed cutting her off. I rarely get the chance."

She added: "I don't think she likes you."

"I didn't notice."

"Trust me. However, Madam Recorder likes you. Did you see her eyes twinkling?"

"I really didn't notice anything."

"Am I being indiscreet?" she asked.

"Wonderfully."

"Good. Can you tell me why?"

"Girlish mayhem?"

She laughed.

"I knew you'd understand," she said. "How do you know about girlish mayhem?"

"I have a younger sister. She went through a stage when all she wanted to do was break things."

Gloria laughed again.

"That's exactly the feeling! I never went through the breaking things stage. I was too well-behaved and studious. So my mayhem leaks out every once in a while at council meetings. ... Have you no questions for me?"

"Only one for now. Why do you have servants?"

"Servants? Oh, you mean the 'Juniors'. I suppose they are like servants, though it's only a temporary appointment and more like a rite of passage."

"When our girls reach eighteen, regardless of what work they studied for, they spend a year as a Junior. They live in a dormitory in the Hall and do various tasks, mostly menial, such as cleaning the Council Chamber, making the councillors' beds, waiting on us at meal-times and running messages. Some of the councillors get the girls to wash and dress them. Mostly they just stand around getting bored waiting for orders. Sometimes, the girls are bullied. We think it's character-building."

"You don't think so?" he observed.

"I suppose doing menial work is a good lesson, though I hated washing Aunt Dolly."

"Aunt Dolly?"

"Dolores Leanesdaughter Cloner - Madam Lawspeaker, you know - is my mother's sister, so I always called her Aunt Dolly. Being her Junior certainly formed my character: I've never asked the Juniors to wash or dress me - and I try to keep a lid on the bullying."

She was disarmingly open, just as Solange had been when he first met her. Yet it seemed certain to him that she was playing a deep game, just as he suspected of Solange. He admired her none the less.

"I'm surprised you've allowed the institution to survive," he observed.

"You live with the Woodlanders and you're surprised about the power of custom?"

It seemed to him that Gloria knew everything that happened on Samothea,

"You're right. ... So why are Juniors bullied at all?"

"Well, doubtless, some councillors remember being bullied themselves and think it does the girls good; or maybe they think it's their turn now. ... Or perhaps the Juniors make too much of a few minor upsets. After all, they are teenage girls," she added nonchalantly. "At that age, everything's a matter of life and death. ... Here we are."

They'd reached the large central building, which she called the Hall. It was made of the same cubic units as the houses but they were double-high and set in a rectangle three cubes wide and five cubes deep. The area inside the rectangle was roofed over by a half-cylinder of translucent green metallo-plastic.

"I'll show you the Council Chamber first, then the classrooms, our scriptorium and the maternity room, where most of the medical equipment is. Next door is the cloning lab. I can't let you in because of the risk of contamination, but I can describe everything it has. We'll finish in the technology store. Is that all right?"

"It's more than I hoped for."

"Follow me. This is the Council Chamber."

She led him into a hall about thirty feet across and ninety feet long, with a high ceiling and plain concrete walls. A large table stood at one end with a set of throne-like chairs. There were doorways at each corner and in the middle on both sides.

"This is where we have our council meetings, public announcements and law-court. The hall is also used for exercise, for lessons, for dancing, communal dinners and a place to come when it's wet."