“Are you serious?”
“No, but they are serious. The Texans have been very successful at uniting a range of crackpot groups into a rabid mob. This could be a tipping point.”
“Which the other cartels will seek to exploit…”
“Of course. Arctic resources are now the main game. He whoever controls the Arctic controls the globe, at least for the next decade, after that…”
“And our course of action?”
“If war is declared it will be difficult to get people and goods in or out. We already have our major technical assets outside the danger zone but the movement of people may become very difficult. The various authorities will be keeping a very close eye on who goes in or out. We have a number of people on our database that we had shortlisted for the first wave of colonisation. If war breaks out we may lose access to them.”
“Can we get them out?”
“Not without telling them why. We haven’t made the final decision yet. We could alert someone who doesn’t make the final cut. It’s too risky. You need to make a revised list that excludes North Americans…”
“But that would exclude people who have devoted their lives to Shunyata, and to me personally.”
“War doesn’t discriminate. You can’t save everyone. Some of us will have to stay, you know that.”
“You’ve made up your mind then?”
“Yeah, fuck them. I’m staying and fighting. I just can’t see myself goofing around on another planet while this one goes to shit.”
Akash was offended. “It’s not goofing…”
“No, no, I know it’s not. What I meant is that I can’t see myself on Eden. I’d want to be back here. You have to go because if we fuck this one up, at least humanity survives. Anyway, we’ve had this discussion before.”
“Okay, so why do I now get the feeling you want to play a more active role?”
“Consider what is at stake. If the colonisation is to succeed then the balance of power has to be with friendlier, more manageable players. The Texans are evil pricks, pure and simple. I suggest we take sides, now, today. I can feed the right people with critical intelligence. More importantly we can launch a cyber attack on the Texans – they use Shunyata systems. It would happen at the right strategic point. But to be perfectly honest, I think we should mount a physical attack…”
“That is beyond our means…”
“Not if we send a little present through the void. We could wipe out the key players.”
“Out of the question. I will not allow void technology to be used as a weapon.”
“Thought you’d say that.”
“Look, I have to trust you on this. If it gets into the wrong hands…”
“They are the wrong hands. I say we chop off those hands. I have no indication that they could even come close to figuring out what happened. You’ve surveyed the papers; they’re still on about dark energy and dark matter. No one is remotely close to understanding the void. Remember, just a small particle sent into their brain would look like an aneurism or a stroke. There would be no residue, no signature. The fuckers would all just drop dead.”
“And where would you stop? First the Texans, then the Russians, then the Chinese. How could we possibly assassinate them all? You know it has to be very precise, millimetres.”
Aviva sighed with frustration. “I know, I know. But they are dangerous fuckers. They might use nukes.”
“I know you’re angry and stressed and you’re not thinking clearly…”
“Easy for you to say…”
He ignored her barbed comment. “I say yes to sharing intelligence, and I say yes to a targeted cyber attack. You’ll need to talk to Rajiv’s team about the best method. The Texans will have back-ups and protections. We have to be subtle and very specific, make it look like internal human error. Rajiv will understand. I’ll authorise him.”
“And if it escalates to nuclear?”
“We’ll have that discussion later. Aviva, that’s final.”
He ended the transmission. What he did not tell her was that he had already considered the possibility of a nuclear war and he had a plan. He wouldn’t send small particles into individual brains; he would send them into the electrics in the silos. This would cause a catastrophic short circuit at the critical moment and the missile would remain motionless in the silo. This was not something Aviva knew about. He kept some things from her.
He was so mentally exhausted that he momentarily forgot which pocket held the electronic swipe key to his apartment. He yawned and cursed at the same time. When he entered, the room was dark save for a soft orange glow coming from the meditation room. He looked at the LED clock in the kitchen. It was eleven pm and once again he had missed dinner. He walked quietly so as not to disturb Tshering’s meditation. He opened the fridge slowly. His meal was in a bowl, all he needed to do was reheat it in the microwave, but he was too tired to do even that. He poured himself a glass of water and stood momentarily frozen with indecision.
He noticed a shape in the meditation room doorway. It was Tshering wrapped in her favourite pashmina shawl. She usually meditated naked at home, a practice she justified by claiming that the Buddha had meditated naked in the forest like the other ascetics. Not that she needed to justify it to him. The sight of her familiar silhouette was always comforting. He expected her to walk over to him but instead she was waving him towards her. He complied, his feet feeling like lead.
He walked up to her, arms extended, ready to embrace her.
“Look husband,” she whispered as she stood aside and pointed into the meditation room. Three figures sat in meditation, wrapped in shawls. One was very tiny. ‘She asked if she could. She has been very calm,” she whispered softly. “It is an auspicious sign. My brother will be very pleased, perhaps she is a reincarnation of a yogini.”
He looked at her startled, but she was smiling and was only teasing him.
“She insisted Alice try it too because she is so hyperactive.”
He recognised the other meditator by her blonde hair. “Freja?”
“Yes, she is very interested in Buddhism. I did send you a message that I had invited her for dinner.”
He struggled to remember. It must have been in amongst dozens of messages from his people around the world. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” she said kissing him on the cheek. He put his hand on her belly and stroked the small bulge. “Come, let me warm your meal.”
He followed her to the kitchen. He thought she might slip on some clothes given they had company but it didn’t make much sense. And then it dawned on him. Perhaps the others had meditated naked too? He was confused but realised he didn’t actually care. Why would women hide their bodies from each other?
He heard the microwave door pop open and Tshering set the timer. He came up behind her and hugged her as they waited. “Husband, there is something I have to tell you.”
“Yes.”
“I have kissed Freja and invited her to share our bed tonight.” They had talked about it but he had not expected it to actually happen. “You’re not angry?”
“No, I’m… surprised.” He knew full well that Tshering was not monogamous. After all, they had shared their first night with her sister Sigyel and there had been other occasions when she had visited (and especially in the late stages of Tshering’s pregnancy when she had come to help she had shared their bed and taken Tshering’s place at Tshering’s insistence).
“It was my suggestion, my doing. She would never be so presumptuous…”
“I see, and you want this?”
She smiled and nodded coyly, blushing at her own sexual boldness. “I have imagined the touch of another female.”
Their whispering and movement must have disturbed Freja because she stood tentatively at the meditation room doorway, her shawl draped loosely around her shoulders so that it fell open at the front. Akash guessed that she had been waiting to give Tshering time to explain. When Tshering gave a small wave of her
hand she walked over. The light of the microwave revealed that she was indeed naked under the shawl. Perhaps it was a Swedish thing but she made no attempt to cover herself and he could clearly see her taught stomach, long, powerful, athletic legs and a sparse tuft of blond pubic hair that sat just above the cleft of her vulva. “I can leave if you wish. It is late,” she said as she folded the shawl across her to ward off a sudden chill.
He looked at Tshering and she gave him her puppy-dog pleading look. “No, stay, but I am tired. I will not be much use.”
“Freja is very good at massage. It will help you sleep.”
“You look exhausted. Shall I make your some herbal tea?” asked Freja.
He nodded. The microwave pinged and Tshering opened the door. The fragrant smell went directly to his stomach, ignoring his exhausted mind.
The final noise disturbed Alice and Pema. They made no pretence at hiding their nakedness. He was used to seeing Pema running around naked as all children do, but not the older Alice, who seemed oblivious to his momentary embarrassment – or was it a form of bravado at being allowed to walk around naked without fear of censure? Pema ran to him and he scooped her up in his arms. “Papa, I’ve learned some classical pieces today.”
He looked at Tshering for an explanation. Alice spoke as she sat at the kitchen bench, which he was relieved to see partially covered her body. “Bartok, he wrote some pieces for children. She is learning fast. I hope you plan to take musical instruments to Eden. We couldn’t live without music,” Alice said.
“And you’ve learned to meditate too,” he kissed her on her cheek.
“Alice, will you tuck her in,” suggested Tshering. “It’s been a long night.”
“Come Pem, I’ll read you a French fairy tale,” said Alice as she walked round to take Pema from his arms. As she took Pema, cocking her hips to take her weight, he remembered a sight he had once seen in an Indian village. A Dalit girl: topless and wearing a dirty, red Jaipuri skirt, carrying her runny nosed, naked baby sister on her hip, her skirt suddenly pulled revealingly low with the wriggling of her sister, completely indifferent to her sudden exposure. He laughed at himself. Why should he be embarrassed and where did he pick it up? As his mother had explained many times, the ancient Bharatiya had not been prudes. That was a bad habit they had learned from the Abrahamic invaders. He had seen his sisters naked many times. They used to share a bath until he declared he was old enough to bathe himself at the rather late age of eight. In fact, as he recalled, he had rather liked their attentions.
Alice took Pema around to everyone for a kiss goodnight. “Night, night, sweet dreams,” he said as Alice carried her off to her bed.
“They get on like a house on fire,” said Freja.
“It is as if they are sisters,” observed Tshering.
“Similar intellects I think, there is a resonance. I would not have thought Alice capable of such affection. She will make a good mother. Perhaps she will carry a half-sibling for Pema when she is ready.”
Tshering blushed. “Just how many do you have lined up for my husband?”
Freja smiled with just the faintest hint of an apology. “It’s not up to me. His genome is valuable, that is all.” She moved forward to give Tshering a reassuring touch and a small peck on the cheek before walking to the electric kettle, which had just turned itself off. She poured his tea as he sat at the bench to eat his meal. “I’ll prepare for the massage.”
He started to eat as Tshering followed Freja. As they walked they took off their shawls and started to fold them. Suddenly it was surreal, dream like. It was if he were in an Indian erotic miniature, a raj at play with his consorts (or rather, the raj at the mercy of his consorts). How did a physics geek like him end up like this? He didn’t believe in karma but he had to wonder if he had known these people before. What had he done to have a house suddenly filled with such strong, unapologetic female energy?
He ate his meal of Bhutanese red rice and curried vegetables slowly as the household settled. Tshering walked through the apartment finishing off minor domestic tasks, her usual routine. The only odd thing was the addition of two others acting as if they were right at home. Alice walked back into the kitchen to get some water and to announce she was going to her room to read, as if she was disappointing them for not joining them; and Freja walked through to the bathroom before re-emerging and walking directly toward him.
He was so tired he forgot his manners and stared directly at her, only half-processing that he was looking at a fully naked adolescent girl with impossibly blond hair that stood out rather dramatically on her leggy, athletic, evenly tanned body - even her fine arm hair was blond.
She noticed his stare and gave a small smile of acknowledgment, making no attempt to cover up. She judged that he was being suitably indifferent – curious rather than salacious. “I hope you don’t mind. I did ask Tsher. You may have guessed that I am comfortable in my body. I assumed…” She sat opposite him.
“Actually, I’m okay, really. It’s just… I just wasn’t expecting… Anyway, it seems to be the thing with you Crickets anyway. Li Li said she had an aunt who was a naturist…”
“Yes, she has told me, but it is simply a coincidence. I guess the types of people who are attracted to transhumanism are unconventional in many ways. In my case I am a rather typical liberal Swede.” She held her hands out in the gesture that said: this is me; accept me as I am. “I grew up with the Norse sauna culture. It is normal for me and for my friends and family, my cousins. We skinny-dip in the local lake at our summer cabin; have family saunas, walk around the house to and from the bathroom… Not that there aren’t Swedish prudes – uptight Calvinists, Lutherans.”
“Oh yes, saunas… Marta…” he said, in a half-distracted manner.
“The Norwegian, yes, she was such an inspiration, so terrible what happened…” she said as a mark of formal respect, although it wasn’t really necessary.
“She mentioned saunas. Is it really true you Scandinavians run out into the snow?”
She laughed. “Or into the nearest ice-cold water… Yes, I’m afraid it is all true. Such a terrible cliché I know, but it is very invigorating. It goes back to our Pagan past. We converted rather late and I guess the Christians never quite convinced all of us to be ashamed, that is more of an Anglo thing. Really, my family still consider ourselves to be Vikings. My genome is primarily Viking, with a bit of Russian. I have been telling Tshering and Pema about Valkyries, sköldmöns - shield maidens, and völva - wise women. You know I am named after a Viking goddess?”
He shook his head, too tired to really engage.
She understood and extended her hand with an air of command well beyond her years. “Come then… Shower and a massage… I will go easy on you because you have just eaten, but if I discover any deep tension I will send Lars to deal with you. He is much stronger and can really do the deep tissue stuff.” She raised her elbow and made a circular motion with it to indicate how he would use it to dig deep into muscle tissue.
He stood and she took his hand. “And don’t worry about Alice’s plans. I am in no rush to carry a child. We will wait until Eden and then we will see. I want to get to know you and Tshering before I decide. Tonight you need sleep.”
He followed her to the bathroom where Tshering was waiting for him, the shower running hot, steam filling the room. What he did not expect was for both Tshering and Freja to step in and join him with the intention of giving him the full luxurious treatment.
63
Nuku and Prax
Ravi Pandit had told him everything she knew about the current situation on Earth and she now referred him to her teacher, Peter Yvgeny. He thought Nuku should attend because Yvgeny’s expertise would be invaluable to her. They found him in his rooms, luxurious by the spartan standards of the other rooms. He was sitting at a desk lit by a single light, pouring over an exquisitely bound copy of an ancient book. It was a rare item. Few artisans bothered to renew the old skills but there were enough collecto
rs to keep a few bookbinders busy. Obviously Yvgeny was a keen collector because his room featured an exquisitely carved bookcase containing over a dozen titles, all bound in pseudo-leather (a rubbery plant from the north) and laser printed on hand made paper from digital facsimiles brought to Eden with the settlers. A quick look around the room revealed other pieces of exquisite craft: a large pottery vase in the style of the ancient Greek red-figure style, hand painted copies of famous Earth Neoclassical paintings, a small marble statue of a voluptuous woman, a double bed draped in a finely woven Renaissance style bedspread.
“Ah welcome magnuses,” he said lifting his head from his book.
“Prax…”
“And Nuku…” they started to say in unison before he shouted over them.
“Gizem, what are you doing in there, we have guests.” He looked at them with pained exasperation. “My consort. She is vain.”
The door of the en suite opened and an exquisitely beautiful woman in her early twenties walked out, her hair carefully tied up in the Grecian mode and her body draped in a sheer, white Grecian gown. “I’m sorry,” she said as she walked toward them. “He insists on me maintaining the classical style and I am here to please him.”
“It helps me to think like our ancestors, the better to understand them. Will you make them a tea Gizem?”
“Yes master,” said the woman bowing slightly. “I am your slave.”
Yvgeny winced. “She is also a student. She is demonstrating the kind of sarcasm that she imagines might drip from the tongues of the obedient personal slave.”
“Slaves?”
“Yes, ancient economies were based on slavery and various forms of indentured service. It has always existed on Earth in some form, even at the time of the exodus. One might argue that the economies of Earth never quite got rid of some form of highly stratified employment system, with a wealthy elite at the top who maintained their wealth by restricting the opportunities of those lower down the ladder. Earth was more than capable of eliminating poverty, but it involved a redistribution of resources unpalatable to the elites.”
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