by J. I. Greco
“Yes, Mother Superior,” the coven said as a group, and not entirely convincingly.
“That’s better.” Roxanne turned to Bernice. “Now, Bernie. Go say hi to Lock and welcome her to the coven.”
Bernice’s eyebrows crunched. “Shouldn’t you do that?”
Roxanne shivered. “Well, I don’t wanna talk to her.”
“Rox…”
“I know, I know.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Lock,” Roxanne said, walking up to Lock, Bernice at her side and keeping a cautious eye on Lock. The coven remained on the other side of the anteroom, watching in nervous silence. Brenda leapt to her feet as Roxanne approached, clicking her heels together in a respectful salute. Roxanne acknowledged the gesture with a head bob and forced a smile for Lock. “I was just setting everything up for your induction and the traditional celebratory dildo hunt–”
“Let me get this out of the way right here,” Lock said. “I don’t do girl-girl stuff.”
“Okay,” Roxanne said after a pause.
“I don’t do girl-boy stuff , either. I’m over the whole thing.”
“What about girl-rubber?” Bernice asked.
“I’m happily non-sexual.”
“Not a problem,” Roxanne said. “We can accommodate. The Sisters of No Mercy aren’t just about the orgies–”
“Maybe only ninety percent,” Bernice interjected.
“Bernie.”
Bernice shrugged. “Sorry.”
“As I was saying,” Roxanne said, “the orgies are just ceremony. Our real work is to appease the Gods of the Wasteland–”
Lock interrupted with a raised hand. “Speaking as a being formerly mistaken as a god of the Wasteland, I feel it’s only fair to inform you the gods of the wasteland don’t actually exist, and those that you think exist, they’re just natural phenomenon, or are, as in my case, man-made constructs beyond your meager post-apocalyptic barbarian comprehension. There are no gods, Wasteland or otherwise. Just the uncaring universe and a human race driven to destroy itself, and no amount of praying, prostration, or rhythmically jamming phallus-shaped rubber tubes into well-lubricated pockets of flesh is going to change that.”
“Well,” Roxanne said, pursing her lips, “we do charity work, too.”
“I’m a Libertarian. Charity breeds weakness.”
“Why are you joining again?” Bernice asked.
Lock raised a silver eyebrow. “I need to rebuild a power base, don’t I? You people seem like a gullible bunch.”
Roxanne cleared her throat. “All right, bad foot forward, it seems. My mistake. Let’s start over, shall we? Welcome to the coven, Lock.”
“Thanks, Rox,” Lock said.
“Here, it’s Mother Superior,” Bernice said. “Or Mother Rox, outside of official functions.”
Lock tapped a finger against her forehead and asked Roxanne: “That’s a little formal for us, don’t you think?”
“The coven’s a community.” Bernice put herself and her pregnant bulge between Roxanne and Lock. She went up on tip-toes to meet Lock’s gaze with a steely squint. “We have rules, protocols, ways of doing things. We give the office of Mother Superior our respect.”
Lock’s mirror-eyes were unblinking. “Sounds great. How do I get that job?”
Bernice snapped her fingers. “You know, you just missed the election.”
“Too bad. Are they every two years, or four? Is there a recall process? Provisions for special elections?”
“The Mother Superior has to retire,” Bernice said.
“Or die?” Lock asked optimistically.
“Let’s introduce you to the girls, shall we?” Roxanne twisted to gesture for the huddled coven to come forward.
“No need,” Lock said, tapping her forehead again. “I know them.”
“You really don’t need to keep reminding us,” Roxanne said.
“And by the looks of it,” Lock said, the coven not budging, “we’re not over that whole me turning you all into zombies thing yet, are we?”
“They will be,” Roxanne said, raising her voice to an authoritative pitch. “We all will be.” She turned back towards Lock. “We know it wasn’t your fault. It was your programming. You didn’t have a choice. If you’d had a choice, you wouldn’t have–”
“Well, let’s not jump to that hasty conclusion.” Lock leaned around Roxanne to address the coven. “I don’t know what you all are so pissed about. You had it good as my subjects. All your needs met. Free food, a roof over your head. No diseases, no death. No growing old, no sagging boobs, no skin crinkling, no veins going blue. Okay, the veins would have gone blue, but not from age.”
“So, what, we’re supposed to thank you?” Yolanda asked.
Lock nodded. “I’ve only been waiting six months for some gratitude. But I know enough about humanity to understand you’re a thankless bunch and I’m not terribly offended.” She bent to open the satchel at her feet. “All right. Let’s get this ridiculous initiation over with.”
Bernice’s hand dropped to hover over her Sergeant-At-Arms’ whip, hanging curled around a silver hook on her hip. “What are you doing?”
Lock pulled a dented aluminum baseball bat out of the satchel. “I didn’t know if I was expected to bring the bats or you all had your own. I think I have enough.” She handed the bat to a confused Bernice. “For my beat-in. Or is it to be golf clubs? Or simply spiked gloves and pointed-boots? I brought an assortment…”
“Beat-in?” Roxanne asked. “There’s no beat-in. We’re not a gang. There’s no beating-in. There’s the induction ceremony, that’s all.”
“Which entails?” Lock asked.
“We read from the Codex of Inexplicableness, you chant some oaths, and we all snort some incense.”
“Don’t forget the spanking,” Bernice said.
“Yes, there is some spanking, but I’d hardly call that a beat-in.”
“How is that supposed to build teamwork?” Lock asked. She shrugged. “But, it’s your cult.”
Yolanda broke from the coven’s huddle and stepped forward. “You were… you were really going to let us kick the shit out of you?” she asked Lock.
“Of course.” Lock took the bat back from Bernice and put it away in the satchel. “I may find all of your rituals and beliefs distasteful and misguided, but I have decided to join you.”
“Well…” Yolanda extended a hand at Lock. “Then welcome to the coven.”
Lock looked at Yolanda’s hand and shook her head curtly. “Yeah, I don’t know where that hand’s been.”
Yolanda withdrew the hand. “Understood.”
“So, if I’m all accepted now, can we get on with electing me Mother Superior?” Lock turned to Roxanne. “Mother Rox, if you’d be so kind as to announce your retirement, or drop dead from an aneurysm… your call.”
“Sorry,” Roxanne said, “but even if the election was today, you wouldn’t qualify.”
“What, just because I refuse to let anyone jam a rubber–”
“No… not that. Only a full Sister can become Mother Superior.”
“Yes, then let’s get on with that induction ceremony. And if you absolutely must to make it all official, spank away.”
“It’s not quite that easy,” Bernice said. “The induction ceremony will make you an Acolyte. After that, you’ll still need three years of study, and to pass the Trials. Then you’ll be a full Sister.”
“Is there an accelerated program?” Lock asked. “I’m dramatically smarter than all of you.”
“You won’t be alone,” Roxanne said. “Brenda’s still got some time before she can take the Trials. Hang with her, you’ll learn the ropes soon enough.”
“Not to mention the nipple clips,” Yolanda added.
“Hi,” Brenda said, waving at Lock before bending down to grab a pail and scrub-brush from under her chair. She held them out at Lock. “Meet the ropes.”
“What are those supposed to be for?” Lock asked.
“We
get to clean out the orgy pit after your induction ceremony.”
Lock’s nose scrunched up with distaste. “You have got to be joking.”
Bernice put a consoling hand on Lock’s shoulder. “You did decide to join us.”
6
The Orgy Pit and the Frustrations of Nanobiological Youth
“This is just insulting.”
Lock sat on a chair on one side of the Temple of Sex and Charity’s front door, fidgeting uncomfortably in her acolyte’s uniform of brimless baseball cap and knee-length leather skirt.
Brenda, sitting on the other side of the door, looked up from a weather-and-apocalypse beaten copy of Star Trek: The Manga Vol. Two. “What’s insulting?”
“This…” Lock swept her silver hand out at the empty antechamber to point at the closed door to the Temple’s Inner Rosy Chamber and Orgy Room, “…shunning.”
“Ahh.” Brenda went back to reading. “What’s being shunned ?”
“We are.” Lock stood, clasped her hands behind her back and paced in front of Brenda. “Making us sit here and cool our heels while they have their little poking and prodding orgy.”
Brenda’s eyes followed Lock over the top of the manga. “It’s not just an orgy. It’s the St. Rupert de Mayo ritual. So the chickens start laying three-headed chicks again–man were they tasty. Don’t you ever listen to the lessons Mother Rox gives us?”
“Listen? Why? The gods don’t exist. This is all just an excuse for a bunch of horny women to get together and bang each other.”
“Maybe. But still, somebody’s got to watch the door, make sure the men don’t sneak a peek. It’d totally negate the effects of the ritual, not to mention spoil the mood.” Brenda lay the manga open on her lap. “Anyway, I thought you weren’t into orgies?”
“I’m not. It’s the principle.”
“Well, it’s nothing personal. Acolytes aren’t allowed to participate in the orgies. Think of it as dues we have to pay. Mother Su used to say that. You know, before she went all crazy.”
“Oh, and I suppose you still blame me for that, like the rest of them?”
Brenda shrugged. “No. You never turned me personally into a zombie, so I can forgive and forget. But yeah, now that you mention it, that may be part of the shun.”
“So you admit I’m being shunned?”
“You did turn them all into zombies.”
“And turned them back.” Lock threw her hands up in exasperation. “That’s got to count for something, right?”
“They’ll get over it. Give them time. And more cookies.” Brenda jogged her head at the snack table in the corner. A plate of crumbs was all that was left of a pile of cockroach-chip cookies. “Those were a good idea. The right direction. Didn’t even know you could bake.”
Lock avoided Brenda’s eyes. “Yes… bake.”
“Remind me again why I couldn’t have one?”
“I don’t wish to hang with fatties?” Lock asked, offering a forced smile to emphasize the attempt at a joke. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll thank me for it later.”
Brenda shrugged. “Anyway… you’re not being shunned any more than I am. Okay, maybe a little, but not much. But that’s just the way things are. Acolytes are pretty much ignored. You can’t let the boredom get to you.”
Lock arched an eyebrow at Brenda. “Oh, I think I can.”
“Here,” Brenda said, and held out the manga. “It’ll help pass the–”
Lock took it with a nod of thanks and held it in front of her face. Wispy tendrils of swarming microscopic nanochines stretched out from her mirrored eyes towards the manga. The tendrils quickly surrounded the manga, pecked at it rapidly, tore the manga into a cloud of particulates. Lock inhaled the cloud, sucking it in hungrily through mouth and nostrils. She swallowed and lowered her empty hand. “Thanks. I was getting peckish.”
Brenda gaped at the tendrils retracting back away into Lock’s eyes. “I meant for you to read it… but all right.”
“No, the time for reading is over.” Lock spun around on her stiletto heel to glare at the door to the Orgy Room. “Now it’s time for action.”
“Travel Boggle?” Brenda asked and reached under her seat.
“No more Travel Boggle,” Lock said over her shoulder. “A week is long enough–and it’s been even longer for you. We should both be full members by now. It’s intolerable that we’re not. Insulting, I say!” Hands balled into fists at her side, she strode for the Orgy Room door. “Enough with these rules and regulations.”
“Where are you going?”
“To put an end to our interminable boredom, one way or another.”
“So what are we gonna do with those two?”
Naked except for her crested, winged Mother Superior’s habit, Roxanne sat on a glittering Throne of Dildos on a raised dais in the corner overlooking the orgy pit. Below her, the pit was a well-oiled writhing, giggling, sighing, and moaning pile of nubile female love and worship.
“Big Red’s a two-hander, sure, but Xanadu did ask Denise to shove it up there.” Fully naked, Bernice sat on the edge of the dais at Roxanne’s feet. Holding it with both hands, she took a sip of heavily watered-down beer from the oversized, bejeweled Chalice of Plenty. “Anyway, looks like Xanadu’s enjoying herself.”
“Not them,” Roxanne said. “Brenda and Lock. Okay, Lock, mostly. Entirely.”
Bernice put the chalice down on the dais next to her and gently massaged her belly. “Can’t trade them to another coven, can we?”
“There’s an idea, but no,” Roxanne said. “Anyway, I thought the others were fine with Lock now.”
“They’re getting there. The cookies are helping.”
“Who knew Lock could bake?”
“I know, right?” Bernice asked. “Brenda’s just about ready for the trials, don’t you think?”
“She’s of age, but she hasn’t been asking.”
“I think she’s worried about the Stations of the Symbian,” Bernice said. “I remember my first time on that thing… I was sore for a week. Good sore, but still…”
“Think it’s more than that,” Roxanne said. “You know, deep down, I don’t think she’s actually bi.”
“We can work on that,” Bernice said with a devilish chuckle.
“Down, girl. So she isn’t bi, no big deal. Her scripture knowledge is good and deep.”
“She is a reader. Lock, though…”
“She’s getting restless, that’s pretty obvious,” Roxanne said. “And considering her background…”
“…We don’t keep her busy, she might go a little unpredictable on us?” Bernice asked.
“Exactly. Technically, I guess she’s old enough, but she’s only been an acolyte for a week. It doesn’t feel right.”
“She goes through the Trials and passes, might help the others accept her,” Bernice said, glancing out into the pit. She twisted back to smile up at Roxanne. “Or she fails… and problem solved.”
Roxanne tapped her fingers on the interwoven dildo arm of the Throne. “Oh, she’ll pass. She’s got all our memories.”
“Not mine she don’t,” Bernice said. “She never got her nanochines into me. But you’re right about her passing. She will. She wasn’t kidding… she is a damn lot smarter than any of us.”
Roxanne puffed a resigned breath out of her cheeks. “Oh, what the hell. I’m supposed to be rebuilding the coven, right?”
Bernice nodded. “You did want her to join up.”
“What was I thinking?” Roxanne asked, and chuckled. “Okay, let’s schedule the trials for both of them for next–”
The door of the Orgy Room slammed open with an echoing thud, interrupting her and bringing the orgy to a screeching halt.
“Mother Roxanne,” Lock said from the doorway. Brenda stood behind her, embarrassed but curious, peeking wide-eyed over Lock’s shoulder into the pit. “I require your immediate and undivided attention.”
Favoring her bulge, Bernice started to get to her feet. “Acolyte L
ock, you’d better have a–”
“I’ve got this, Bernie,” Roxanne said. She gave Lock the most understanding smile she could muster across the orgy pit. “What can we do for you, Lock?”
“Oh, is that how you want to play this?” Lock asked.
“Huh?”
“Don’t play dumb…. I’m on to you.” Lock clapped her hands at the girls in the pit. “Attention! Yes, all of you, lay down your dildos, turn off your butterfly vibrators, extract your Ben Wah balls and listen, for I have a proclamation!” She pointed an accusing finger over them at Roxanne. “This woman–this so-called Mother Superior–has led you all astray.”
“I’ve what now?” Roxanne asked.
“Astray!” Lock looked down into the pit, into the upturned, flushed and confused faces of the coven. “Led you all right off the cobblestone path of righteousness and onto the barren scrubland of certain damnation.”
“What are you talking about?” Bernice asked.
Lock growled at Roxanne. “As if you didn’t know.”
“Yeah, I really don’t know.”
Lock huffed. “Is it not true that the Tome of Speculation proscribes that only women should be allowed into the Sisterhood, lest the Gods of Brunch and Apocalypse be offended and bring about the end of the world again, not that anybody would notice?”
“Yeah, sure,” Roxanne said. “So?”
“So… here you have allowed me into the Sisterhood and made me an Acolyte with all the sitting around watching you people fuck responsibilities that entails, and I am no woman. Nor am I man. I’m a nanobiological construct… a man-made abomination of technology gone amuck. An abomination I say!”
That brought on a few nods from the coven, including Bernice.
“See,” Lock said, “they agree. And who can blame them?”
“Settle down.” Roxanne stood and padded around the edge of the pit on her bare feet to stand in front of Lock. She kept her voice even. “The Tome of Speculation’s more a bunch of guidelines than hard and fast rules. I don’t really see what the problem is.”
