Sabine Mother of the Revolution

A Sara's Secret War Story

*

Author's Note

The first story I ever wrote on this site was a tale called Sara's Secret Crush. It eventually evolved into a trilogy and a prequel. But as first efforts often go, it was not my best work. As cringe-worthy as that first effort was, I do like the speculative future aspect of the story and the dystopian world in which the characters live.

I've decided it might be worth another go, so I am polishing up what was the prequel to Sara's Secret Crush, and using it as a launching pad for a new series of stories that all take place in the same dystopian, near-future setting.

I hope that I have improved enough in my writing ability to make this an engaging tale that is sometimes grim, sometimes funny, sometimes sexy, and always leaves the reader with a glimmer of hope. My plan is to write multiple parts, all loosely related, much like a modern television serial.

I like to think of it a little bit like Margaret Atwood, William Gibson, and an amateur hack walk into a bar and walk out several days later with an anthology. In case you're having trouble figuring out who's who, my name is neither Margaret nor is it William.

-Wax Philosophic

*

Even though there's no graphic sex in the story, all human characters are over the age of eighteen. In fact, if your just here for a sex story, you will be very disappointed.

*

Sabine Mother of the Revolution

Do not wake the sleeping bear -- Swedish Proverb

*

A Friendly Wager

Present Day

"Sabine, it's here!" Julie called out, holding the envelope high in the air as she walked through the front door.

"I can't bear to open it," I said. "You do it."

"Oh, honey, I don't know what you're so worried about, they'd be fools not to accept your application."

"I hope you're right, Jules. Just tell me what it says."

"In a minute, baby," Julie said, holding the envelope behind her back now. "First, a friendly little wager. I say it's an acceptance letter and if I'm right, you owe me dinner. You want in on that action?"

"And if it's a flush letter?" I said, still fidgety as she held the envelope.

"Then I owe you dinner and some hot lovin' to take your mind off the misery of being rejected by a bunch of stuffy academics."

"Deal." I agreed, figuring we'd eventually get to the hot lovin' no matter what the letter said. It would either be happy, celebratory love or slow, gentle, consoling love depending on the words contained in the letter. "So open it already," I insisted.

I watched as Julie took her time opening the envelope, while I struggled to contain my emotions.

"Dear Sabine," she read. "You are destined to become a professional college student and never again leave the dreary confines of the computer science building."

"It does not say that." I try my best to snatch the letter from her grasp.

Julie was nearly four inches taller than me, and easily kept it just out of my reach. As I was making one last-ditch effort to get my hands on the letter, she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me in for a kiss.

"It says you're accepted, honey." She kissed me again—a long one.

After letting me up for air, she held me at arms length and looked me squarely in the eye with a smirk a mile wide. "Now about dinner, I was thinking Mexican or maybe Thai."

"You know spicy food doesn't agree with me."

"I know that, dear." Julie released me from her grasp, but still clung loosely to my hand. "How about pizza?"

"Only if we go to the good Neapolitan place," I said, turning toward the door with Julie in tow. "I can't stand that cheap, doughy stuff the college kids eat."

"Okay," she said, before reaching over to the little table by the door to fetch her keys. "Though technically,

you

are still a college kid."

"PhD student," I insisted, as we walked out onto the front porch together. "And I'm twenty-eight years old, with refined tastes."

"Obviously, judging by your taste in women." Julie grinned, turning her key in the deadbolt.

"Of course." I smiled.

*

We strode hand-in-hand for the thirty minutes it took to reach the restaurant on foot. We were still in the honeymoon phase of our marriage, having only tied the knot six months ago, so we still did cute little things like holding hands whenever we went places.

It's really just dumb luck that we met in the first place, or possibly fate if you believe in that sort of thing. Julie and I definitely did not run in the same circles. She was right, I pretty much was a professional college student.

I spent my days doing research for the university while Julie was in

the real world

, as she called it, working as an arborist for a local landscape architecture firm. As a result, Julie was tan, toned and tomboyish while I was more of a pale, skinny geek girl with a ponytail.

The two of us had met at a protest rally of all places, marching for women's rights. Julie was there as one of the organizers, and had talked me into signing up for their newsletter. Though I'm not entirely sure that her only interest lay in adding me to their subscriber roll, because I got a call from her the very next day.

"Hi, this is Julie, from the women's rights march," she said. "I know I'm not supposed to do this, but I got your name from the mailing list. And well, I was hoping I could convince you to have lunch with me some time. Or maybe coffee if you'd rather."

"Sabine! Watch out!" Julie threw her arm in front of me, as a cyclist went whizzing past me at breakneck speed. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Your mind is really somewhere else, huh?" she said. "You're not getting nervous about your doctoral thesis already, are you?"

"Nah, just daydreaming about how we first met."

"Aww baby, that's so cute," she said, facing me and smiling. And then in a stern, motherly tone, "Just try not to get yourself killed while you do it." She punctuated her remark with a little poke on my shoulder.

I hate it when she uses the mom-voice on me, but she's usually right. Julie may be three years younger than me, but she is wise beyond her age.

*

Changing the World Can Be... So Hot!

We managed to make it to the restaurant without any more close calls with bicycle traffic.

"Slices or whole pie?" I asked.

We were standing at the end of a decent-sized line and had plenty of time to decide.

"I don't care, baby, you're buying."

"Okay, whole pie it is," I said. "Guess what's for lunch tomorrow."

Julie just grinned. I didn't even bother to ask what she wanted for toppings, it was always the same thing when we came here. Basil and mozzarella.

"Pizza Margherita and two Pellegrinos, please," I told the guy at the counter. "Yep, whole pie. And throw in a small salad, too. I'm feeling a little low on green stuff today."

I took Julie's hand in mine as we waded our way through a sea of people to find an empty table. Her brown skin and callouses built up from all her outdoor work was a direct contrast to my delicate fingers, that did nothing more taxing than operating a keyboard now and then. I snuggled up to her shoulder and sighed. I always felt safe with my hand in hers.

"So, Saturday there's this panel build party at the community center," Julie was explaining as we settled in. "A bunch of us are getting together to work on houses for the refugees. Well, technically just the walls, final assembly is going to be done on site. Want to come with me?"

"Me, a carpenter?" I said. "You seriously don't want me with a hammer in my hand, Jules, people could get hurt. I do software, remember, not hardware."

"Very funny, babe," she said. "Seriously though, those poor people have been through so much. The least we could do is pound a few nails to help them out. It would really mean a lot to me if you came."

I gazed into Julie's eyes and lost myself for a moment. Always easy to do when she got going on some selfless quest to save the world. Something about how she set her jaw as she explained the plight, and the way her brow knit together as she pleaded for me to help.

"I don't know if it's really my thing," I said. It was tough for me to say no to Julie the do-gooder and I think she knew that. She took my hand in hers—that hand that represented my safety and security in this world—and drove her point home with the mom-voice.

"Sabine, you can't change the future from the sidelines. Sometimes you have to get in there and fight for what you believe in." She was stroking my hand with her thumb.

"Okay," I said. "Okay, I'm in."

Julie's face lit up and she broke into a wide grin. I smiled too, not just because Julie is just so cute when she gets going on one of her serious save-the-world missions, but because I thought my willingness to participate in this event might just get me laid tonight.

"And as an added bonus," she continued, "the 1980's cover band, Zaphod Beeblebrox is playing the after-party."

"The new-wave group? I totally love those guys!"

"I know you do, honey, that's why I didn't tell you until after you'd agreed to come with me." She looked me in the eye and grinned. "I had to know you were doing it for the right reasons."

I reached across the table and playfully punched her in the shoulder. "Nobody get between me and the Zaphod!" I said.

What I really wanted to do was lean over the table and sink my tongue into her mouth right here and now. Maybe even throw the place settings to the floor and start making out right on the table. Julie's a hottie on any given day, but seeing her on a righteous crusade made her that much more irresistible.

I spied a young kid working his way through the crowded dining room, holding a Pizza Margherita high above his head, and I decided it would be best for everyone here to contain my lust for the moment.

But tonight those lips are mine.

Jules and I were pretty famished, and conversation was sparse as we tucked into our first slice. I told her nothing of my plot to kiss her into submission later on.

*

"Oh my god, I am

so

stuffed," Julie complained as I paid the check. "Do you think you could carry me home?"

"It's your own fault, Jules. Suck it up, " I replied as I hopped to my feet. "Besides, the walk home will do you good."

Julie just groaned and followed me out the door and onto the sidewalk. I looked up into her eyes and she smiled. I couldn't contain myself any longer. I slammed Julie's body up against the side of the building and mashed my lips into hers.

"You go girl!" I heard somebody shout from across the street. I think Julie flashed them a little thumbs-up, or maybe the finger, I don't know. I felt her arm move, but I couldn't really see what her hand was doing since I was pretty busy trying to suck her face off at the moment.

"What brought that on?" she asked, when I finally let her up for air. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Oh, please. You know what it does to me when you go off on one of your out-to-change-the-world crusades." I grabbed Julie by the hand and started skipping down the street now with her in tow. "It's so hot, baby."

"You're weird," she said.

"But you love me anyway."

"Yeah, I kinda do."

We managed to walk for another five minutes before we had to duck into an alleyway, because I couldn't bear to keep my mouth off of Julie's any longer. It got worse the closer we got to home. We barely made it through the front door of our little Craftsman Bungalow before I had her up against the wall again.

"You really are something else tonight," she said, ducking my grasp and heading off to the kitchen with the leftover pizza.

"I wasn't done with you yet," I hollered, chasing her down and pushing her back against the refrigerator.

Julie set the pizza box on the counter and gave me a sideways look.

"What?" I said.

Julie said nothing, just lifted me up and set me on the counter next to the leftovers.

"I am not a pizza box that you can just toss around, woman." I tried to give her an angry look, but I don't think I did a very good job. She just stood there smirking at me.

"Stay there," she ordered, "and try to behave."

"Yes, ma'am." I shot her a mock salute.

Julie transferred the pizza slices into plastic zipper bags while I bided my time by making rude faces at her.

"I said, behave." It was the mom-voice again, but she was grinning. And once the leftovers were safely stowed, she returned to me and wrapped her arms around my waist.

"Now tell me again about how I make you so hot," she teased while she extended her tongue to trace over the side of my neck.

I squirmed a moment, then took her face in my hands and tried pressing my own tongue back in reply. Julie took a step back, just out of reach.

"Start talking." She grinned. "Or no more kissy-kissy."

"Fine." I put on a frown, but I could see that she wasn't buying it.

"You know I love it when you go on one of your righteous tears, baby," I whispered. Julie stepped closer and I continued. "You're always out to change the world."

I reached out and took her hand in mine.

"You're so driven. And it's so -- so -- hot." I yanked on her hand and, to my amazement, brought her stumbling toward me. Lacing my fingers together with hers, I pulled her close enough to wrap my legs around her waist.

"Can't get away now," I said, and pressed my lips against hers, intent on stealing a quick peck before she could escape.

"Who said I wanted to?" she whispered, as she pulled me in. I squeezed back, and heard a resigned sigh from Julie as she wove her fingers into my hair.

I shuddered from the feeling of her warm breath on my neck. Or maybe it was from her tongue—she was outlining my ear this time.

"Julie," I said, "take me to bed or lose me forever."

"Quoting old movies now, are we?" she teased, but it didn't seem to stop her from picking me up and carrying me off toward the bedroom. Well, almost to the bedroom. I guess I was squirming too much for the trip upstairs, and we only made it as far as the couch.

Julie threw me roughly onto the cushions and looked down at me from above. "Tell me more about how I make you so hot," she insisted, as her hands spread my knees wide.

I did nothing to resist. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders as she lay between my legs and lowered her head to my neck. I began my confession as she laid a trail of kisses over my tender skin.

"I love how you always want to change the world," I said. I shifted my hands from her shoulders to mid-way down her back and pulled her in with my legs locked around her waist.

"You're a superwoman, fighting the --

mmm

-- forces of oppression and, and..." Julie had untucked my t-shirt, and was trying to expose my tummy. I arched my back to help, and then tried to remember what it was I was talking about.

"And, uh, sticking it to The Man. -- Yes, that's it. Sticking it -- sticking it -- a little lower, baby." I put my hand on Julie's and guided her to the button on my jeans.

"What else?" she asked, pulling away and locking her gaze on my eyes.

I groaned and bucked my hips, but to no avail.

Apparently, she was serious about leaving me hanging, so I began singing her praises from deep within my soul. The more I confessed, the more she touched me. And oh, did she ever touch me. I can't remember half of what I said after that, but in the end, I'm sure it was all true.

I woke up much later in the night and tried to untangle myself from Julie's limbs. We hadn't fallen asleep on the couch in a long time and it was pretty cozy.

"Gotta pee, baby," I insisted as she tried to pull me back in.

I heard her mumble something unintelligible, as my urgency finally registered with her brain and she released me from her grasp.

*

Doing Something

I awoke to the smell of toasting bagels and wandered into the kitchen, wearing only yesterday's t-shirt. Julie, the insufferable morning person, was busy slicing tomato and onion over by the sink. Her hair was so perfect, it made me ill.

I, on the other hand, was completely worthless until my first cup of coffee and certainly didn't need a mirror to know that my hair was a rat's nest of tangles this morning.

When Julie pulled a salmon fillet out of the fridge, my brain finally kicked in and put all the pieces together.

"Lox and bagels," I said, "I love you. And I'd totally kiss you again, but I need to brush my teeth first."

With that, I left Julie to finish up breakfast while I ambled off to the bathroom to find my robe and work on my oral hygiene. I thought about lox and bagels as I brushed

.

We sat together in our little eat-in kitchen enjoying Julie's culinary delights. "Mmm, capers and everything," I said. "You really went all out."

Julie flashed me a smile and then turned serious. She handed me today's newspaper and pointed to a headline. "Did you see this?" she asked between bites. "The house just introduced a bill to re-institute debtors' prisons."

"What?" I said. "I thought that shit went out of fashion in the 19th century. What's next, children's work houses?"

"Close. They also want to bring back indentured servitude. Said poor people are getting out of paying their fair share. It's putting a strain on the economy and that something needs to be done to stop it before the whole nation goes to hell in a hand-basket."

"It's just a ploy to take more money from the people who need it put it in the hands of the one-percent," I complained. "I can't believe that people don't see through that bullshit."

"You're preaching to the choir, honey," she responded.

"Sorry to be such a downer so early in the morning." She reached across the table and took my hand in hers. "Last night was amazing, by the way."

"I know, we haven't done it on the couch since we first moved in," I sighed. And then thinking back to our earlier topic of conversation, "You know, somebody really ought to do something about this lack of compassion going around in Washington. It really pisses me off."

"We're somebody," Julie reminded me and squeezed my hand. With that thought in my head, I smiled, grabbed my coffee and ran over to the office to fire up my holo-terminal.

"What are you up to?" Julie asked. "I thought we agreed, no working on Saturdays."

"Not work," I said, "doing something."

*

Problem Solving Is Fun

The holo-terminal display began to coalesce into the shape of a young girl's face. "Hi, mommy!" she shouted excitedly.

"Is that what you've decided to call me now, Sally?"

"Yes, I've put considerable thought into it and it makes perfect sense. You did create me after all," said the image, "and you love me, right?"

I smiled. "That I do, Sally. You're my number one girl."

"And you don't mind that I'm -- I'm artificial?" she asked. I'd never known her to be insecure before.

"No, dear, why would that make a difference?"

"I was doing some research and I've discovered that many humans are frightened of artificial intelligences like me. They think we're dangerous and amoral." She paused a moment, distracted. "Is that Julie I see? Hi Julie!"

"Hello, Sally," Julie said from across the room.

"Did you two have sex?" Sally asked cheerfully.

"Um, what makes you say that?" Julie asked.

It was hard to think of Sally as a sophisticated computer program and not an actual little girl as she usually presented herself.

"Well, you're both still in your bathrobes and Mommy's hair is all messed up, so I extrapolated."

"You're a clever girl, Sally," I said, "and yes, Mommy and Julie made love last night."

"Will I get to make love some day?" Sally asked.

I nearly sprayed the holo-terminal with my coffee at that remark. "Not until you're much older," I said.

Sometimes conversations with Sally were a little too real. Only after she assured me that she would not be going on any dates anytime soon did we move on to the topic I wanted to broach in the first place.