by Rod Rees
Marx grunted a greeting. ‘Pierre-Simon is quite correct, young lady, I am a RaTionalist and would have nothing to do with the occult nonsense being spouted by that charlatan Aleister Crowley. But as Heydrich perceives any criticism as a threat, I was condemned, in absentia, to death. Fortunately, thanks to a tip-off from Baron Dashwood, I was able to evade the Checkya and escape to the Coven. And that is why I am here to greet you.’
Laplace continued with his introductions. ‘To my right is the distinguished, though somewhat taciturn, expert on all things pertaining to breeding and evolution, Gregor Mendel.’
‘I am delighted to meet you,’ stammered Mendel in a soft, hesitant voice before busying himself with a forensic study of his glass of tea. The man was so shy that he seemed to have inordinate difficulty interacting with his fellow men and women … especially the women.
‘Mendel is also a fugitive,’ explained Laplace, ‘in his case, from the Heydrich Institute for Natural Sciences in Berlin. Unfortunately, as he has learnt to his cost, he has leapt from the frying pan into the fire.’ Laplace spread his hands. ‘So we are all—’
‘It is typical of a nonFemme’s innate arrogance and presumption of superiority that you should forget to introduce me, Laplace,’ scolded Su Xiaoxiao. Her tone might have been light and playful but there was no mistaking that it was a rebuke. ‘Therefore, I will introduce myself. I am Su Xiaoxiao and, before his death, I was Most Favoured Courtesan to His Serene Majesty Qin Shi Huang. I have also some small fame as a philosopher and here I admit to being a late and somewhat reluctant convert to the outré doctrine of unBelievability postulated by the Toozian thinker Wen Tiangiang.’
‘UnBelievability? Stuff and nonsense!’ sneered Marx.
Su Xiaoxiao ignored him. ‘Latterly, though, I have devoted myself to the defeat of Empress Wu and the perverse creed that is HerEticalism. To do this I have revived the ancient order of the SheTong.’
‘Wot’s the SheTong when it’s at ‘ome?’ asked Burlesque.
Su Xiaoxiao laughed. ‘Well, according to the ChangGang – the Coven’s secret police – we are a ramshackle group of penisaddicted Femmes who are unable to find the courage within ourselves to break free from the bourgeois and unnatural impositions of a socially constructed heterosexuality and usurp the power held by nonFemmes. But in reality it is an ancient order of fighting women. We are Femmes who have pledged ourselves to oppose the more extreme of the solutions being proposed in Court circles to bring about the supposed utopia that is MostBien … the triumph of Femmes.’
Norma nodded her understanding. ‘Borgia mentioned that when we spoke aboard ship.’
Su Xiaoxiao’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘For Borgia to speak so openly means that the HerEticals grow very confident. You have come, Norma, in the very nick of time.’
There was a pause and Norma thought it an opportunity to reciprocate the introductions. ‘And these are my friends …’ she began.
‘We know who accompanies you, their reputation as stalwart supporters of Normalism goes before them,’ interrupted Laplace. ‘But as time is short – I and my two colleagues must be back in our quarters before our absence is noted – I would prefer if we move directly to business.’ He gave Su Xiaoxiao a wry smile. ‘With the kind permission of Femme Su I would take it upon myself to iterate the political situation current in the Coven.’
A nod from the woman indicated her agreement.
‘Very well. Empress Wu has been the supreme power within the Coven for ten years. A decade ago Wu led the Femme Liberation Movement to victory in the Coven, overthrowing Emperor Qin Shi Huang and replacing Confusionism with HerEticalism as the religion of this ABBA-forgotten Sector.’
‘Though she remains a secret disciple of Confusionism,’ added Su Xiaoxiao. ‘She is addicted to its ability to predict the future.’
‘I’ve never heard of Confusionism before,’ Norma admitted.
It was Karl Marx who answered. ‘For the simple reason that it is, like RaTionalism, an outlaw religion; it has been banned within the Coven … except within the Forbidding City.’ He sniffed. ‘Not that that’s any great loss. Confusionism is a remarkably ridiculous philosophy in that it believes – without a shred of evidence – that it is possible to commune with ABBA by the throwing of coins and consulting the Epigrams contained in an ancient book known as the iChing. Twaddle, of course, but for the Empress Wu strangely persuasive twaddle.’
‘Lucrezia Borgia mentioned the Empress using the iChing to me earlier this morning.’
Laplace shook his head. ‘I am surprised by her candour. The Empress Wu keeps her Confusionist leanings a closely guarded secret.’
‘Why?’
‘Because Confusionism is linked with an ancient sage called the Master who not only wrote the BiAlects – the teachings which form the foundation of Confusionism – but also the iChing. It would not do for Empress Wu – the doyenne of all that is Femme in the Demi-Monde – to be seen espousing a religion developed by a man … by a nonFemme.’
‘But why is the Empress Wu so anti-men?’
Laplace provided the answer. ‘Wu is driven by an aberrational attitude towards sex, having turned penis-envy into a religion which contends that MostBien will only dawn when non-Femmes have been totally and irrevocably eliminated from the face of the Demi-Monde.’
‘She wants to get rid ov all us blokes?’ interrupted Burlesque.
‘Correct.’
‘That’s bollocks, that is.’
‘Very apposite,’ murmured Marx.
‘Wivout us blokes there wouldn’t be any babies.’
‘A most pertinent observation, Monsieur Bandstand,’ admitted Laplace, ‘and, demented though the Empress is, it is a fact which has not gone unnoticed by her and her acolytes. But despite this we believe that Empress Wu is preparing to take the penultimate step to the achieving of MostBien: at her urging HerEtical scientists have developed a Plague that will affect only nonFemmes … that will destroy all men living in the Demi-Monde.’
‘But that’s madness,’ objected Norma. ‘As Burlesque says, it would be suicidal for Wu to deploy such a plague. Destroy men and within seventy years human life will be extinct in the Demi-Monde.’
Laplace glanced towards Mendel. ‘It might be best if you took the story up, Gregor: reproduction is, after all, your field of expertise.’
Mendel looked distinctly unhappy to be thrust into the spotlight and for several seconds all he was able to do was ferociously polish his pince-nez, which, Norma assumed, was a displacement activity to mask his shyness. Finally, though, he settled, replaced his spectacles on his nose and in a quavering voice began to speak. ‘Although Wu’s intentions are never spoken about openly, it has become obvious that several of the more peculiar policies of her regime are not as arbitrary as they first appear. For several years now the Coven has offered sanctuary and a generous pension to nonFemmes …’
‘And immunity from castration,’ grumped Karl Marx.
‘… of proven intellectual ability. As a consequence, the Coven has become something of a haven for those males escaping religious, intellectual and racial persecution in their home Sectors. When I took up Wu’s offer of asylum, I thought it nothing more than a piece of whimsy on her part: just as some women collect jewellery and furs, so, I assumed, Empress Wu collected renegade geniuses. But in this surmise I was naive. I have come to the conclusion that the reason I and my intellectually gifted colleagues have been assembled here is to form a stud pool … her One Per Cent Stock.’ He glanced at the robes he and his colleagues were wearing. ‘The emblem shown on this robe indicates that we are …’
‘Loaded and cocked?’ suggested Marx.
‘Indeed, Karl, and, as such, are to be shunned by Femmes except when they are licensed to commune with us physically for the purposes of procreation. It is very demeaning.’
Marx winked at Norma, indicating that one man’s humiliation was another’s good time.
‘We believe,’ continued Mendel, �
�that Wu has now fully stocked her stud farm and hence is in a position to employ a biological weapon she has had developed. She calls this the Plague and it is a weapon designed to kill nonFemmes … all nonFemmes except those comprising the One Per Cent Stock. When the Plague is unleashed in the Demi-Monde, those nonFemmes making up the One Per Cent Stock will be held in quarantine safe from its depredations, and when it has passed, having exterminated the rest of the male population, it will be our duty to service Femmes selected for breeding.’
‘Sounds like a good gig to me,’ observed Burlesque, ‘a few hundred blokes having to shag thousands and thousands ov willin’ women for a living.’ His observation was rewarded by a kick from Odette.
Mendel frowned at the ribald comment. ‘That, Mister Bandstand, is the superficial conclusion that a number of my more physically inclined colleagues have come to. Unfortunately I am of the opinion that it may be a very temporary “gig”. I have some small expertise regarding the understanding of reproduction and recently I was consulted by a Dr Merit Ptah who is the leader of something called the YiYi Project here in the Coven. Although Dr Ptah was tight-lipped regarding the purpose and the status of this Project, I was left with no doubt that its objective is to prove the viability of parthenogenesis.’
‘Wot’s that?’ asked Burlesque.
‘Parthenogenesis, Mister Bandstand, is the impregnation of females without male intervention. The ultimate expression of MostBien would be a world without nonFemmes, where every birth is a virgin birth and where every mother is unsullied by contact with a nonFemme or the need for his seed. MostBien would find its apotheosis as a one-sex society. It appears from the scant clues I was given that Project YiYi is well advanced, but quite how close to success it is we do not know. However, we must assume that within a few years nonFemmes will have been rendered extinct.’
‘Bugger me wiv a broomstick.’
‘An unsavoury metaphor, Mister Bandstand,’ observed Laplace, ‘but one which does most graphically convey the alarm I and my colleagues feel.’
Norma had the impression that the conversation was running away from her. She understood that HerEticalism’s objective was to create a lesbian society, but it was difficult to accept that this involved the extermination of men. ‘So what’s to be done?’
Su Xiaoxiao took over the discussion. ‘We need to discover the status of the Coven’s experimentation both with the nonFemme-killing Plague and with parthenogenesis. Unfortunately the work is so confidential that even using the good offices of Mata Hari’ – here she nodded to the woman who was skulking in the room’s shadows – ‘we have been unable to penetrate the cloak of secrecy which surrounds these projects. It is imperative that we discover where the Plague is being produced and destroy it.’ She fixed Norma with a steely stare. ‘There is only one place where we are sure this intelligence is held and that is within the Forbidding City. We need someone who is willing to be taken into this, the sanctum sanctorum of Empress Wu, and discover the secrets of the Plague weapon.’
For the second time in as many hours a horrible feeling of foreboding descended on Norma. ‘Me?’
A nod from Su Xiaoxiao. ‘You have been brought to the Coven so that you may be questioned by the Empress’s most trusted experts regarding the effect your promotion of Normalism is having on the future of the Demi-Monde. This can only be done within the Forbidding City, which is a sealed world. With the exception of Empress Wu and Imperial Secretary, NoN Mao ZeDong, all those taken into the Forbidding City are never permitted to leave.’ She gimleted Norma with a stern look. ‘And we must move quickly: Heydrich is preparing to invade the Coven, and it might be that Wu is panicked into doing something precipitous. Time is of the essence.’
Norma gave a sardonic laugh. ‘Great: so I get to be taken into the Forbidding City but don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting out. Look, I don’t want to rain on your parade, Little Su, but that lunatic Lucrezia Borgia suggested that Wu wants me out of the picture. I’m guessing that once I’m in the Forbidding City I’m toast.’
‘That is, regrettably, the case,’ observed Laplace blithely. ‘After you have been examined by the Sages of the iChing, you will undoubtedly be put to death. That is the usual way Wu seeks to change the future of the Demi-Monde.’
‘Terrific, so for me this is a one-way ticket to the morgue.’
Su Xiaoxiao hurriedly rejoined the conversation. ‘Not so, Norma. We too have consulted the iChing and the reading was most favourable. The iChing indicates that you are protected by ABBA and that Fate will not allow any harm to come to you.’
‘You consult some book—’
‘As you will learn, Norma, the iChing is not “some book”; it is a means by which we can allow the Qi of the Kosmos to inform us of ABBA’s intentions.’
‘Wow, well, that’s a real load off my mind. Let me ask a question: has anyone who’s been taken into the Forbidding City ever escaped from it?’
There was some embarrassed fidgeting. ‘Whilst no one has ever escaped from the Forbidding City we are quite confident—’
‘Quite?’
‘You will have ABBA on your side. And Mata Hari will be there waiting to guide you to safety when you finally escape.’
‘Marvellous.’
12
The Forbidding City
The Demi-Monde: 2nd Day of Summer, 1005
Yin and Yang are the binary opposites of the Kosmos, representing, inter alia, dark and light, cold and hot, female and male. But though Yin and Yang are opposites, they are complementary and mutually dependent: one cannot exist without the other and they strive unceasingly to create the balance that will bring harmony to the Kosmos and ABBAsoluteness to HumanKind. When this is accomplished, Yin will fuse with Yang to create Ying, the ultimate transcendental Peace. Ying will only be achieved when Demi-Mondians have succeeded in purifying their Solidified Astral Ether. Achieving this purity of body, thought and deed is the ultimate aim of all WunZian Confusionists, TooZian Confusionists being too pissed to comment.
An Introduction to Confusionism: Philosopher Xi Kang, Ping/Pong Publications
Imperial Secretary, NoN Mao ZeDong was of the opinion that the eating of river cucumbers was a violation of the spirit of HerEticalism. It was the shape of the things that he found most objectionable: there was something disturbingly phallic about them and thus it was wrong for any HerEtically inclined Femme to enjoy putting them in her mouth. They were a distressingly heterosexual titbit and though he had done his best to rid himself of these reactionary urges it was unsettling to be reminded of what he once was …
Unfortunately, river cucumbers were a favourite snack of Empress Wu, and as a consequence, Mao’s disgust as he stood watching her gulp the foul things down had to remain unvoiced. Empress Wu, having been Blessed by ABBA, was divine and hence beyond criticism, so all he could do was to keep his gaze fixed at a point thirty centimetres or so to the left of the Empress’s shoulder and thirty centimetres above it and do his best to ignore the revolting slurping sounds she made as she devoured the damned things. Of course, that the river cucumbers were being fed to the Empress by a naked Fresh Bloom did add a frisson of eroticism to the act, but not enough to make it watchable.
The other small mercy was that this meeting with the Empress was taking place in the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the largest and grandest of all the halls in the Forbidding City and the one that Mao liked the most. It was the hall used only for the most important of meetings and hence it was here that Li – the unbending ritual that suffused and commanded every action of the Empress’s servants and that ensured that they always acted as Superior Servants should – was at its most oppressive. This made audiences held in the hall tense affairs, where any violation of Li was summarily – and cruelly – dealt with. And if there was one thing that Mao truly relished, that made his soul soar, it was the meting out of cruel punishments … especially when the recipient was a Fresh Bloom. Their screams were as music to his ears.
Bu
t there were other reasons why he preferred the Hall of Supreme Harmony to all others: it was, in his opinion, the most beautiful of the state rooms in the Forbidding City. He loved the wonderful paintings of dragons – the Empress’s emblem – that decorated the room, especially as the dragons were shown in the throes of devouring nonFemmes. He delighted in the beautiful renderings of the torment these grotesquely untrimmed males endured as they were eaten, crushed, clawed and burned by the rampaging dragons. As far as Mao was concerned, in an ideal world – in a MostBien world – such would be the fate of all uncastrated nonFemmes. Oh, how he would love to see them suffer for the scorn they had directed towards him and the other NoNs who laboured to make the Coven the haven for HerEticalism it was.
‘What news of the Daemon?’ The Empress’s question snapped Mao out of his reverie.
Fortunately, years of training allowed him to maintain the bland expression with which he permanently dressed his face. It would be better, he decided, that the Empress did not learn of the Daemon’s escape, not now the bitch had been successfully recaptured. Anyway, divulging this would necessitate him criticising Lucrezia Borgia, and that was an activity not conducive to the enjoyment of a long life. Borgia was a very vindictive Femme.
As it was the first time he had addressed the Empress that day, he bowed – his body forming the precise forty-five-degree angle to his legs demanded by Li – counted slowly to nine and then stood upright.
‘I salute the True Empress, and pray that ABBA grants her Nine Thousand Years of Peace and Contentment. Great Empress Wu, Mistress of the Demi-Monde, of the Great Beyond and of all the Kosmos, Blessed and Much Beloved by ABBA and Defender of the Faith of HerEticalism, it gives me much pleasure to announce that the Daemon is now, even as we speak, en route to the Forbidding City.’
