by L. K. Rigel
“Don’t worry, Kimlel,” Sister Jordana said. “We’ll take care of you.”
“No, you won’t. You won’t! You always say that, but it’s not true!”
Mal stared stupidly, and so did Kairo and Roh and Nin. This wasn’t happening. Sister Jordana and Sister Marin took hold of Kim’s arms.
“I’m glad.” The defiance drained out of her, and she shrugged. “I’m glad it’s over.”
Harriet walked the rest of them back to the hub. In the lift she said, “Fate can be cruel.” She would know. Fate had been cruel to sweet Harriet.
Kim was a Ptery! No one with the deformity was allowed to reproduce; Kim would never have a contract.
“The human race depends upon our discipline.” Harriet repeated what they had heard so many times they never paid attention to it anymore. “You will be paid well for the service you render, and you will live such pampered lives that you’ll become frivolous and demanding and petty. You’ve seen it.”
True. The brood queens in residence and the chalices in the queue could be insufferable with demands for Brazilian chocolate or Napa pinot noir or some such exotic thing suddenly imperative to their well-being.
“But our object isn’t personal pleasure. Red City’s happiest day will be the day we go out of business, when the human race is fully capable of reproducing naturally, without hospitals, and every woman can breed in her womb. Until then, the Triune Contract is sacred. We can allow no defects into the gene pool. Our species honors the goddess’s gift. We can’t wait for evolution.”
After so many years with no more protection than a hat, Mal wanted to believe she was naturally immune to pterygia. She did have brown eyes, after all. Not that she’d risk going without her shades. “What will happen to Kim?”
“Her uterus will be removed. She’ll go back to Taos. Her family will keep her bounty. As long as she doesn’t go Horus, she’ll receive a pension for life.”
It had better be a good pension, or out of defiance Kim would join the Sisters of Horus, Pteryi who roamed cities and settlements offering to confirm souls. They weren’t officially outlawed by the Concords, but many individual cities, including Garrick, had banned them.
In the corridor outside the hub, some proofs passed by carrying boxes and a plant from Kim’s room. The hubbies wouldn’t even be allowed to say goodbye. At the door, Harriet said, “Remember, Red City will never abandon you.”
Someone rose from the sofa in the common room. Claire, formerly of Allel. Harriet gave her a hug. “Claire has been moved to Prime so we still have five for the ritual tomorrow.”
“Hello, Mallory.”
Hormones! The sight of Claire knocked Mal back in time to the reception in Allel. Harriet had marched in like a fury, followed by a bewildered young girl. “She’s been polluted.”
Mal still remembered the citizens’ collective gasp and the flicker of satisfaction in the look Celia, the regent, had shared with Sister Jordana, the Emissary – instantly replaced by expressions of wounded betrayal.
The girl was Claire, and she had been as perfect then as she was now.
Her mother, Lady Drahan, was later cleared by a Team of Inquiry. Claire never did test positive for hormones after Harriet’s initial scan. Some said it must have been a bad sample. Others said the regent herself had planted trace hormones to cast suspicion on House Drahan.
Mal had always felt awkward about the whole mess. If it weren’t for her, Claire would have been in Prime all this time. Mal had received presents and lavish attentions that should also have gone to Claire, a noble daughter of Allel.
Claire had been redeemed, but not completely rehabilitated. She would have a career, but she’d compete on the low end with settlement trash like Mal instead of with legacy babies like Kairo.
“I was so glad you were found clean,” Mal said.
“But not enough to come say hello all these years.”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“Don’t be silly.” Claire grabbed her hands. The smile faded when she noticed Mal’s gold bracelet, but she kissed Mal on the cheek. “You had nothing to do with all that. It was all a mistake. And I made Prime! Nothing will stop King Edmund from bidding on me now.”
It felt like being punched in the gut.
But that made no sense. Mal had control of her emotions. It made no difference to her who Edmund bid on. No difference at all.
Power and Confidence
The dogs were on the sofa when Mal and Nin came back from their manicures.
“Oh!” Mal said in mock disapproval. “You bad boys.”
The dogs jumped down, and Nin picked up her white Maltese Kronos and rubbed noses with him and told him just what a bad dog he was, all in an adoring tone.
Mal’s little fawn-colored pug bounded over to her, snorting and farting. “Beastie, sweetie. Are you my bad boy?” She scooped him up into her arms. “No, you’re my good boy! You’re going to see Lily today, isn’t that nice?”
Beastie slobbered all over her face and pawed at her hair and knocked off the willow crown on her head. Mal kissed him and put him down to play.
“We’re starting in half an hour,” Nin said. “Where is everybody?” As she put Kronos down, his paw caught on her obi and pulled it out of configuration. “Shib.”
Mal refolded her own obi so a hint of the pink underlining showed on the diagonal. Their costume was a simple white shift, white slippers, and a white mantle. So much white. Years ago, she would have worried about keeping clean until the ceremony tonight.
They could thank Queen Chiyu for the gift of their satin obis. The hot pink lining provided a little color. They had made their crowns themselves from willow branches, symbols of their connection to Asherah, Queen of Heaven. So all who see you remember your blessed state, Sister Jordana said.
“Come to me, O blessed one.” Mal held out her hand for Nin’s obi. “I suppose you want all pink?” She folded the cloth so the entire pink lining faced out and fixed it over Nin’s waist. Nin’s roses tat had flared up yesterday, but all looked well now. “Did you take your antibiotics?”
“Yes, O blessed one. I am quite perfect.” Nin batted her eyelashes.
Silly Nin. So goofy. On the rare occasion she was still, the arch of her eyebrows made her look as if she were pondering deep thoughts – which, as far as Mal knew, had never been the case.
“I can’t believe we’re almost out,” Nin said. “I’m going to start my proof this week.”
“You still mean to give proof of service.”
“A proof will drive up my starting price. I don’t want to pop them out until I drop. I want four, maybe five contracts, and then I’m out. I want to stay in Red City to work with Sister Marin.”
Could there be any duller dream for the future?
“I’m not as lucky as you, Mal. My parents are alive and they aren’t rich.”
“Lucky.”
“You know what I mean. Pitaji and mataji have the connections, but not the cash. They spent most of my bounty to have another girl. It’s unlikely she’ll bleed too, and I’ll have to support them all. I don’t want to be like Harriet, living on noodles and green tea for the rest of my life.”
Harriet poor? It was possible. She’d never had a contract. But how unfair.
“I wonder whatever happened to my bounty.” Mal brushed her hair and put her crown back on. “I know Sister Jordana didn’t leave it. Ma went a little crazy when she realized she wasn’t going to get it.”
“Are you joking? It’s in your account.”
“Account?”
“Red City always pays the bounty. Otherwise, they’d be accused of kidnapping – or worse. If it didn’t go to your guardian, it went to you. Great gods, Mal. You’re probably set for life!”
A black Maltese and two more pugs burst through the front door and rolled around on the floor with Beastie and Kronos. Roh was right behind them, followed by Kairo and Claire.
“Did you hear about Kim?” Roh said. “She
escaped! Tell them, Claire.”
It was still a shock to see Claire with the group instead of Kim. “At breakfast, my hubbies – my other hubbies – came over to wish me luck. They said Kim was in the medical wing last night and she broke away from the guards. Someone saw her being chased down a corridor.”
“She ran into the wall,” Roh said, “and disappeared!”
“She ran through the wall,” Claire said. “She didn’t hit it or bounce off. She disappeared through it.”
“Sure.” Mal rolled her eyes. “It could happen.”
“It’s true.” Roh loved stories of weirdness. “There were witnesses.”
“There always are.” Kairo sounded bored with it all.
“Forget about running through walls,” Roh said. “The point is she’s gone. They can’t find her.”
“A Team of Inquiry will set it right,” Kairo said. “Or at least they’ll tell us the official explanation.”
Cynicism from Kairo was surprising, but she was probably nervous about the assembly. She and Mal were giving the opening day reports.
“I’m so glad I don’t give my report until tomorrow,” Nin said. “Why do we have to give these boring reports, anyway?”
“The Triune Contract, boring?” Mal laughed. “Sacrilege!”
“And we know Mallory cares deeply about piety.” Kairo tossed her crown onto the table below the mirror. Delilah, her black Maltese, jumped after it without success.
“Stuff it, Kairo,” Nin said.
“Ninshubur.” Sister Jordana was at the open door. “What talk is this from one of Asherah’s blessed?”
Kairo tried to retrieve her crown, and Nin gleefully blocked her way. All the dogs started yapping.
Sister Jordana wore a sleek crimson shift and sleeveless gold mantle, the sisters’ Rites of May costume. Harriet came in with her, dressed in the same red and gold outfit. Today she wasn’t a physician; she was a former chalice, a sister.
Uniform hardly applied, looking at the sisters. One was seven feet tall, bald, dramatically tattooed, and with an attitude of serene confidence and self-contained power. The other was five-foot-four, with a mop of curls, laughing eyes, and cheerful concern for everyone in the room but herself.
Harriet carried a stack of rosewood boxes decorated with cloisonné roses. Good old emotional Harriet, crying with happiness for other people. Mal’s heart compressed. All this time she thought Harriet liked noodles and green tea.
“Dear sister Ninshubur.” Sister Jordana lifted a pearl necklace from one of the boxes. “This is from your father and mother. It represents your spiritual illumination. The world rejoices that today you dedicate yourself to your life’s purpose.”
Nin beamed. She adored her parents, despite all her little comments, and she thrived on the idea of making them happy.
“Dear sister Rohna ...” Harriet went through the same litany. She and Sister Jordana took turns presenting pearl necklaces to the others. Even Claire had one from Lady Drahan, but Mal had no mother or father to send pearls to symbolize her spiritual illumination.
Still, Harriet had brought five boxes. Maybe one was Kim’s.
“Dear sister Mallory.” Harriet opened the fifth box and brought out a lovely choker of bright cut gold and freshwater pearls. Breathtaking, like something Palada might have made. “From the moment I confirmed your soul, I have felt as near to you as any mother could. This necklace was given to me by my mother, and now I give it to you.”
Tears rolled down Mal’s cheeks. She hardly heard another word as she hugged Harriet, her heart full and a lump in her throat. Asherah, help me to make Harriet proud.
With perfect timing, Lily showed up with the other proofs to collect the dogs. Mal hugged Beastie and told him she’d miss him. He looked so sweet with his little pink tongue sticking out, her loyal and loving little Beastie.
-oOo-
Mal laid her report on the lectern and looked out into the dark theater. The gallery boxes were for chalices, either in the queue or in residence for gestation or recovery. Bleeders filled the back rows of the darkened room. Guards and sisters had the middle seats.
Only the first two rows were visible under the stage lighting. Prime Hub was in first row center. Nin and Roh made crossed-eyes at her, and even Kairo smiled encouragement.
Claire was trying to look serene and important. She’d taken to her new status with the self-confidence of an aristocrat and no sense of her good luck. Kim was out; Claire was in. Nothing out of order.
“The Triune Contract is Sacred.” The audience quieted with Mal’s opening words. “Thus begins the ritual which celebrates our blessing by Asherah, Queen of Heaven. The ritual binds us to the goddess and as sisters to each other.”
Once begun, the words flowed easily; she had practiced often enough.
“She is the merciful god who renewed our fertility after the Environmental Cataclysm. In that dark time, humanity despaired for its very existence. Oil disappeared from the eastern hemisphere. Empires and corporations were obliterated by war machines of humanity’s own making, and the world descended into sterility and madness.”
The princes were in the second row. The five in the center, right behind Prime Hub, would participate in tonight’s hieros gamos. Edmund sat behind Mal’s empty seat.
Her heart jumped. He wasn’t a boy anymore.
“War itself was declared a crime against humanity, but it was too late. Women had lost their natural fertility. Countless cities could not power their hospitals.”
He was more muscular. Even more serious. He paid attention.
“The gods cried out. Who would adore them? Who would light the holy fires? Even Samael was powerless against humanity’s self-destruction. Mighty Samael could not stop nuclear holocaust or prevent the great perversions of natural law.”
He nodded as if she’d said something profound, and not just repeated the dry teachings they’d all memorized years ago.
“Asherah intervened, though Samael screamed in his impotent fury. Asherah looked on humanity’s great weapons, the missiles, the bombs, humanity’s lust for power. She called up the seas to destroy the weapons and the factors of weapons, to wash away the insult to the earth’s body.”
“With the great sea level rise came the Environmental Cataclysm, the Irresistible Pollution. Raptors mutated into giants. Special species flourished, like the Empani, and perversions of humankind, like the Pteryi.”
Mal nearly choked on the words. When she wrote them, she hadn’t given them a second thought. But was Kim a perversion of humanity? Ridiculous.
“Asherah turned her ear to the great below and took pity on us. One by one, she cast off her symbols of godhead and descended into material reality. She searched the earth and whispered wonderful! wonderful! to women who had ears to hear.
“We are the blessed who had ears to hear. The fertility she gave us is our gift to humanity. A contract will be made among a king, a brood queen, and Sanguibahd. The Triune Contract is sacred.”
“The Triune Contract is sacred.” The assembly repeated the words, many bowing their heads.
Kairo would also speak this morning. The others would give their reports in smaller sessions over the next three days, all on some aspect of the brood queen tradition. It was the most boring part of the rites. Red City thought it the most essential.
If Mal were brave, her topic would have been Priests of Samael: Necessary Evil or Just Evil? Sister Jordana would like that; she loathed the Samaeli. However, it would certainly offend some of the princes, and what purpose would that serve?
If Mal really had any guts, her topic would have been Proof of Service, Proof of Sin.
But she was conventional.
She recited details of the contract everybody already knew by heart. She didn’t mind the polite boredom on the princes’ faces – she felt it too. Finally, thank the gods, it was over with. As she and Kairo passed each other on the stage, Mal whispered good luck. To her surprise, she meant it.
�
��The Guest-Host Journey.” Kairo announced her topic, plainly expecting and enjoying the princes’ admiration. “Humanity was created with an urge to war which nearly destroyed us all. Now we order our world against this drive to war. We value civilization. We don’t have the luxury to go around killing each other.”
As the audience laughed at Kairo’s stupid joke, Mal reached her seat. Edmund still had that appealing sense of happiness about him. He was handsome.
But the prince seated beside Edmund had become heart-stopping gorgeous.
Genetically speaking, Prince Garrick’s blue eyes – lighter than Kim’s – and strawberry blond hair signaled weakness, but Mal felt no revulsion. She felt challenged, reckless. She wanted to ignore the rules, to flirt with those dangerous eyes, run her fingers through the short loose curls that framed his muscular face.
He smiled as if he had a delicious secret to share and she was the only other person in the auditorium. In the world.
Asherah, can such a man truly exist?
“In the year a prince turns twenty-one,” Kairo droned on, “he makes his guest-host sojourn. In that year, he visits a minimum of seven Concord Cities to symbolize the obligation every king bears to uphold the stability of all governments.”
Mal could feel Prince Garrick staring at the back of her neck, his attitude of confident power intoxicating. Her heart pounded so loud, she was sure others could hear it. She had to make herself breathe. Great gods, it was possible he would be her partner in the ritual.
“It is a perilous and necessary undertaking. Every city risks its future by exposing its prince to every other city; but because the risk is universal, it works. World harmony is enhanced. The very idea of war fades.”
“Maintain your temperature, darling,” Nin whispered.
Nin was right. Prince Garrick. What was she thinking? Garrick was far above her aspirations.
