by Gary Starta
“Is the knowledge you promised me, Alzabreah? Allowing me to taste a fruit I can never really have? Do you think this setback will discourage me from pursuing love? Do you really believe I will devote myself to the study of your eugenics programs, opting to choose a career over true love?
And Mavra recalled Alzabreah’s countering argument.
“Love, no matter how sweet will only serve to drain you. You’ll never become a whole person dependent upon another. And we all know the Olvidian males care nothing for the mental fulfillment of their women. They will treat you only a little bit better than their livestock – if you’re lucky. You saw your parents live a loveless marriage. That’s because love isn’t everlasting. It’s only a chemical in our brains, planted there like a trap, promising lifelong happiness. In reality, love rarely sustains us for more than a few years at best. Don’t become your parents, Mavra. Make love but don’t fall in love. That’s why I’ve given you the drones. Realize the pleasure they give you serves only as a temporary distraction. Think of them as the pretty winged creatures that pollinate our flowers. They provide us a brief glimpse of beauty and fly away before consuming our lives. Let your obsession with the drone fly away, before you get caught in an inescapable web.”
Mavra wondered how she could recall her dream in such intricacy. Would she be able to refute Alzabreah in an eloquent and intelligent manner when the time came? She foresaw a showdown in the future, imminent and certain to happen because she would ask Mavra to engineer Thorpleen to love her. She had no other choice but to request the change. Deep down, she knew love was guiding her, compelling her to invent these confrontational scenarios. And because she felt love was such a strong emotion, she would refute Alzabreah’s argument that true love wanes. Thorpleen jolted Mavra from her daydream with a question she could never imagine the drone capable of asking. Maybe he could change.
“So do you wish me to become your permanent servant, Mavra?” Thorpleen bluntly stated the question without a trace of doubt.
Mavra suddenly stopped thinking about island politics. She allowed a smile to flicker upon her full sensuous mouth, her lips accented in a shade of lilac. She had purposely extracted the color from a root that grew wild on the east side of the island, the part of the island, which harbored a docking port. She hoped Thorpleen would realize she painted herself in this manner only for him. She also associated the docking port as a way to freedom if needed. Free from thoughts of Alzabreah and her restrictions, her smile continued to expand.
Thorpleen lost in her gaze became hard, fantasizing about her voluptuous lips and how they had sensually wrapped themselves about his protruding cock only moments earlier. “I will tell you more in due time, Thorpleen.” Mavra placed a finger over her servant's lips and removed a chain of violet colored beads from her robe. She kissed Thorpleen's forehead softly before placing them around his neck. The drone laughed in astonishment – a reaction, which would have seemed odd even if it had came from a naturally bred Olvidian male. Alzabreah had clearly engineered the drone's to think and behave more like females than men. The drone did see much more than in Mavra’s gesture than any single Olvidian male ever would. He appreciated the act of kindness but was a loss to explain his feelings in words – and this fact scared him.
On more than one occasion, the high priestess had spoken critically of the man's thinking process. She believed the male ego had only served to cripple communication between the sexes. Females, Alzabreah reasoned, would be much more happier if their male counterparts would always produce a predictable response. And in this case, the response was intended to both flatter and deceive. Mavra sensed fear and reservation in her servant's eyes. Mavra knew this because she would have behaved in the same fashion. But her lust would not let her deal with this matter at present. She quickly changed the subject as pangs of sexual hunger overcame all notions of proper etiquette.
“If you can catch me,” Mavra interjected, “you can have me again.” The 23 year-old Olvidian female could not resist the combination of Thorpleen's bronze-colored skin, slightly slanted almond-shaped eyes and rippling muscles. Mavra was stimulated not only by the drone's physical presence but also by a small voice in the back of her mind. Her reactions had also been ingrained in her - but without intentional manipulation. Even after their discussion regarding predisposition, Mavra did not realize her playful challenge to Thorpleen was a reflex behavior crafted purely from natural instinct. In a way she had been programmed as well – but unlike the drone she would never get to meet her maker.
Mavra planted another kiss on Thorpleen's neck before she scurried up a nearby tree snickering like a child. Her laughs quickly turned into mock screams as Thorpleen effortlessly matched her stride for stride. He grabbed onto her left ankle and pinned her against the bow of a branch located about halfway up the tree. Swinging her body to face him, Thorpleen smothered Mavra's mouth in kisses until her laughter subsided. Mavra returned the kisses, inside her head she willed Thorpleen to love her. Love me Thorpleen. Love me back. I know it’s inside of you. Let it rise and surrender to me. I will give myself to you - all of me…all you have to do…is want it.
From this vantage point, the pair now risked being seen by the villagers. But today they would be safe from unwanted eyes as a loud siren permeated their surroundings. The wailing continued for several minutes indicating a crime had been committed. When Mavra and Thorpleen returned to the village they discovered that Alzabreah's sister, Katyana, had been murdered.
-Defiance-
Nearly two decades earlier, Katyana lived a quiet but content life on the mainland with her life partner, Jodek. Her older sister, Alzabreah, frequently reprimanded her about the folly of retaining a life partner.
“Your research has cured countless illnesses and led to the perfection of neural wave modifiers. We are now at the dawn of a bright future for all Olvidians and yet you are content to spend your evenings with a simple fisherman.”
“And can you tell me, Alzabreah, are you happy sleeping in a bed with no partner?”
The bright future you speak is more about control than healing. I work to correct nature's mistakes - not to re-write its blueprints. I will not apologize nor do I see a need to defend my affinity for life's simple pleasures to stand taller in your eyes.”
Katyana did not press her argument further. She was well aware that acquiescence was not one of her sister's attributes. If something could be made better or even more beautiful then Alzabreah was justified to spend all hours of the day and night working toward that endeavor like an artist with an easel.
Alzabreah chose to be alone because she would never settle for a partner who was less than perfect. She had all the time in the world. Her parents had developed many technologies, helping the colonists relocate to their new planet via starships. They also were quite proficient in manipulating natural energy, using it to heat homes and develop protective force fields about the mainland.
Alzabreah was not so interested in technology as she was eugenics. Her parents were good friends with a couple who devoted their lives to mapping the Olvidian genome. They had high hopes their daughter Quan would use their discoveries to rid Olvidians of many troubling diseases of the mind. Quan and Alzabreah became fast friends to the dismay of Katyana, who found her sister totally obsessed with eugenics and the study of cells.
Now, a decade later, Alzabreah and Katyana stood on a beach together, both seeing a lifetime ahead of them, they were both only in their early twenties. Each would become doctors, Katyana would pursue holistic healing, Alzabreah would embrace gene therapy. Katyana looked upon the sea and horizon, filled with serenity, viewing its vast expanse only with wonder, content to marvel in its beauty. But Alzabreah, gazing upon the same scene, only saw years of hard labor ahead of her. She would devote her life to making perfection, to create a world where women would no longer be oppressed or saddled with mundane duties.
From the corner of her eye, Katyana watched Alzabreah, disconcerted that even the p
ristine beauty of a beach on a spring day would never satisfy her sister’s restless spirit. A slight breeze from the ocean rippled the two sister's robes as they stood speechless on the eastern shore of the mainland. Alzabreah knew it would take more than a mistral wind of inspiration to persuade her younger sister to abandon her old life. Alzabreah's plan centered around the small island, which was barely visible to mainlanders, lost like a speck of sand among the glow of the vast orange-red horizon of a new day. The burning glow of the vista called out like a siren for Alzabreah. But Alzabreah did not want to begin her new life without her only sibling.
Opportunity knocked loud the day that Jodek began to suffer disorientation and memory loss. Katyana quickly grew suspicious of how quick her sister came to her aid; however, she kept these feelings shielded from the external world. Alzabreah offered to operate on Jodek to cure his malady. She would implant a neural modifier along the cortex of Jodek's brain. This artificial link would correct the chemical imbalance responsible for affecting the fisherman's short-term memory. Katyana had little choice but to accept her proposal. Alzabreah counted on the fact that her younger sister would make an emotional decision and opt for the surgery. It would take nearly 20 years for Katyana to confirm that her sister had done a lot more than just correct Jodek's memory loss.
“Trust me Katyana, you don’t want to be saddled with a burden, now do you?”
Alzabreah’s stern gaze challenged Katyana, implying she had already allowed Jodek to become a burden to her simply by taking him as a life partner.
“How do you know this will work? What if you make him worse?”
“Doctor Quan learned this technique from her parents, Katyana. It’s been used off world, although the Olvidian parliament would never admit to this. You see, Katyana, our leaders don’t want the lower caste of their society to become empowered. They would rather risk abandoning a procedure that could benefit them as well - in essence they opt for control over healing. Quan’s parents know this but keep quiet to keep the peace. But I don’t think we should cower in the darkness anymore. So tell my Katyana, why do you want to continue to live among these savages, knowing this? I hope this experience will help you find the light.” Alzabreah didn’t have to explain. Kaytana knew the light Alzabreah referred to was the tiny island – the place her sister believed would allow Olvidians the opportunity to cultivate perfection.
“I cannot promise I will join you, Alzabreah. However, you may perform the procedure. Jodek is all I have.”
Alzabeah’s face softened. She rested her palm on Katyana’s shoulder. “This is a first step, my dear. I’ll be there right alongside you when you decide to take the next step – to leave the mainland.” She kissed Katyana’s forehead. “Tell Jodek we will heal him tomorrow. And no Katyana - Jodek is not all you have, my dear. You have yourself, you just need to allow yourself to become a whole person.”
Alzabreah and Quan aided by artificial wave emitters completed the surgery successfully, gaining immediate approval from the Olvidian parliament. Quan’s parents had diplomatically negotiated the approval in a mere hour, promising they would keep news of the controversial surgery limited to Jodek, Katyana, Alzabreah and Quan. Alzabreah hoped one day that this corrective surgery could be performed on living organisms without the need for artificial implants or approval from closed-minded leaders. But the likelihood of this happening on the mainland was unrealistic. Alzabreah knew the majority of Olvidian settlers frequently voiced opposition to the selective breeding of livestock. How would they ever agree to grow the next generation of children in this fashion? Still, Alzabreah remained undaunted. If necessary, she would convince one Olvidian at a time to realize her dream.
The fisherman recuperated quickly from his operation but distanced himself emotionally from Katyana at an even faster pace. Bewildered, Katyana left Jodek and eventually moved back to her parent's hacienda-like dwelling in the mainland's southwest sector. An unannounced visit from Alzabreah followed a few months later. The older sister now had the leverage she needed to convince Katyana to leave for the island.
Katyana's twisted body mingled with the jagged rocks of the island's shoreline. Tears flowed generously from Mavra's eyes as she surveyed the scene from above. Alzabreah had charged Doldruss with the murder. She alleged Katyana was pushed off the edge of the cliff by the drone.
Mavra choked down a sob and cried out to the high priestess. “How can you accuse the drone? He was not designed for disobedience. What reason would he have for killing your sister?”
“How can you speak of his innocence? Doldruss confessed to me he was not in your company this afternoon, Mavra. Now I must deal with your irresponsible behavior along with my grief.”
“With all due respect your high priestess, I was not breaking any of your protocols. I simply did not require the services of Doldruss and used my own good judgment to allow him a brief respite from his duties.”
“And how did you spend your time alone?” Alzabreah accused her disciple with unwavering eyes. Mavra finally broke eye contact by casting her sights towards the shoreline. The confrontation she imagined having with Alzabreah would not take place today. Alzabreah sighed. “Never mind, you will provide me with a complete dissertation of this afternoon's studies at nightfall.”
Mavra swallowed hard in an attempt to regain her composure and resume eye contact with the high priestess. She knew Alzabreah had called her bluff. “I request to suspend the dissertation for this evening. Tonight I will dance around the fire in respect for your sister,” Mavra proposed.
Alzabreah nodded her head in silent approval. In the background stood a tall statue depicting the likeness of the high priestess. The eyes of the statue cast a dubious stare towards the direction of the mainland. No one but Alzabreah knew its interior had been equipped to monitor overseas telecommunications. Earlier today, Alzabreah made sure no mainlander would ever get a message to the island again.
“I know Alzabreah is behind her sister's death,” Mavra confided to Thorpleen the next day. The drone desperately tried to fathom his master's accusations. He seemed even more confused when Mavra gave him her beads. He traded glances at Mavra secretly desiring a passionate kiss in place of her serious discourse. Nevertheless, the drone patiently listened in silence until Mavra finally conceded that her love interest was simply not capable of understanding. It seems programmed responses and comprehension are two different things, my dear Alzabreah. Mavra imagined herself confronting Alzabreah with this insight. She wished with all her might that the high priestess could be here in person to hear her silent ranting. She continued the argument, taking place in her head. It became more emotional and less logical in the ensuing moments. But you've probably never even taken up with a drone to realize it. Mavra was sure she could find a voice to speak up to Alzabreah because if she didn’t an innocent drone would face a horrible fate. It was she who put Doldruss in this predicament, opting to avoid a love making session with him in favor of Thorpleen. Mavra couldn’t fight feelings of guilt and responsibility. But those feelings clashed with anger, because Mavra could only conclude that Alzabreah should ultimately be the one to experience guilt and remorse. Speaking aloud to Thorpleen, Mavra stated: “I realize you were not genetically designed to perceive Alzabreah as anything other than the high priestess. For you, she is your god, your soul and your world. But to me, she is not above reproach. She is simply an Olvidian, cut from the same cloth as I was. And I certainly know all too well desire has clouded my judgment from time to time.” Mavra's eyes opened wide as if she suddenly wanted to take back her last statement. She grabbed her lover's hand in a fit of panic. “I did not mean to infer that you are a mistake. In fact, this is all my fault. I foolishly aligned myself to Alzabreah's teachings and now must feel shame for my choice. She promised all of her follower's freedom, but now I see Alzabreah had no concept of this ideal. I painfully must admit she duped me to believe her future was all about cultivating the perfect garden – a paradise free of weeds. But I now
realize the weeds are often necessary. They serve to make us fully appreciate the flowers.”
Mavra paused a moment, fearing awkward silence. However, Thorpleen's eyes revealed a simple understanding. “I know you are grateful to Alzabreah for my creation even though I am flawed and cannot always understand the eloquence of your speech.” Mavra's fist balled up as anger grew in her belly. She silently cursed Alzabreah for allowing the drones to suffer the awareness of their shortcomings.
“You do bless my creation, don't you?” he repeated uneasily.
“Yes – yes, I do,” Mavra replied blushing. “Still, you deserve the right to have a family, choose your destiny and pursue any occupation you wish. I should not be so selfish.”
“How can we remedy this situation?” Thorpleen asked innocently.
“I need to retrieve a processor Katyana hid in the meadows. I believe it will reveal Alzabreah's motive for taking her sister's life. Katyana confided in me the high priestess feared she was losing control over the order during the last few months. She was not explicit, but I believe a revelation from her past was threatening to spread dissension among the followers. I do not doubt Alzabreah would violate every doctrine of her order to save it. Any yes Thorpleen, I realize the hypocrisy of the situation.”
Mavra paused to marvel at how Thorpleen could comprehend any of the complexities of this dilemma. Here was an individual who had grown to the age of a 21 year-old Olvidian in the span of eight months. Alzabreah genetically designed the drones to bypass childhood so they could serve as workers and love slaves. Each was created with a rudimentary understanding of language and mathematics. Higher education was deemed unnecessary.
Alzabreah experienced the intellectual shortcomings of men like Jodek. She theorized male drones would best serve Olvidian woman as laborers. She condemned them to inferior intellectual capability – the one thing she most despised about the Olvidian male. As high priestess, she would see to it that no man would wastefully consume the life of a cherished Olvidian female in the name of love.
