Time of the Stones

by Fred Rothganger

  The orphan groaned. “What do you want?”

  “I’m running away.”

  Pinar sat up. “What?”

  “Shh. You’ve been a good friend. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

  “Will I ever see you again?”

  “Maybe. You won’t recognize me, but I’ll recognize you.”

  “Are you an Irshi?”

  “What’s that?”

  “A girl spirit who comes to help people.”

  “Then you’re an Irshi, because you helped me.” They hugged. Susan slipped through the dorm and into the back yard.

  She summoned more swarm. Each berry bush in the area contributed some flies, which came buzzing over the wall and merged with her avatar. At full mass, she transformed into her true appearance: dark skin, long red hair, and voluptuous figure in white gown.

  Susan vaulted the wall of the compound in the light of early dawn and walked toward the center of the city. Along the way there was a poster stating the call for beautiful women to apply for concubine, possibly queen. It seemed reminiscent of first place and runner up in a beauty pageant. Well, she intended to win first place!

  The poster gave the address of an office where they were taking applications, inside the citadel. Could any girl go there, or did she need a permission slip? Maybe the Mothers were right, only the university girls had any real chance.

  Susan worked furiously for the next five minutes to create a ‘paper’ program, then transferred an image of the permission slips she had observed. Just in case the guards actually looked, she made sure it specified the inner city and her name.

  Armed with only herself and the forgery, she continued toward the checkpoint. People stopped to stare, but she walked on as if all were normal. The guard ogled her so intently that he never looked at the paper. Nor did he bother to wave her on. She smiled, tugged the pass out of his hand and walked through.

  The search bureau was only a few doors up the street from the gate. She entered to find two men seated behind a desk, with stacks of paper in front of them. One looked up and beckoned her over. He pulled out a fresh form and intoned, “Name?”

  “Susan”

  “That’s a barbarian name. But then, you’re obviously a barbarian.” He scratched the name on the form. “Age?”

  “How old do I look?”

  He glared at her, then begrudged, “About twenty-five.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Are you currently betrothed?”

  “No.”

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “Yes.” Another lie, but Susan had no intention of eliminating herself before the contest even started.

  “Education?”

  She could honestly say she had a PhD in Clinical Psychology, earned by proper hard work at an Ancient university. Sadly, she did not know the Biriktil words for that yet. She pointed in the general direction of the hilltop. “The woman in the Stone knows my name.”

  The second man turned to the first. “Why are you even bothering with a barbarian? She will never be queen.”

  Susan stroked her hip. “Imagine the wrath of the Great Leader if you deny him this barbarian beauty.”

  That seemed to hit home. The two men stared at each other nervously. The second said, “Just put down no education, but quite suitable for concubine.”

  “What?” Susan took a deep breath and wrestled down her pride. This was sufficient to get in the door.

  “Address?”

  “The orphanage.”

  “Ah, of course. Where else would we find barbarians?”

  The second man walked over to a camera. “Please stand on the mark. Face the camera.”

  Susan complied and gave it her sweetest smile.

  Click. “Turn sideways.” Click. “Face away.” Click. “The last picture may be any pose you choose. Make it a good one.”

  She turned to the camera and raised one hand like a goddess blessing her people. It was the same gesture Celeste used to greet people visiting the Stone.

  Click. “OK, frames 25 to 28 for Susan.”

  The first man scribbled final notes on the sheet of paper. He took on an air of formality as he recited a well-worn speech. “Selections will be made after the call closes next month. If you are selected, a messenger will fetch you. You will present yourself to the Great Leader. After all candidates have presented, he will choose a few to become concubines. The others will return to their daily lives with his blessing. He will choose the new queen from among his concubines in his own time.” The man handed her a pamphlet. “Here are all the rules and details.”

  “Thanks.” Susan took it and stepped out. Students were walking between buildings. She accosted a young man. “Excuse me. Where can I find a book of words?”

  He stared at her like she was a drooling idiot ... or perhaps he merely ogled her gorgeous figure.

  She said, “You know, words, with explanations of what they mean.”

  “Dictionary? You need a dictionary if you don’t know that.”

  “Yes, I need a dictionary.”

  “You can buy one at the bookstore.”

  “Oh dear, I don’t have any money. Do you have a room with books in it?”

  “Library?” He pointed up the hill. “It’s straight south of the Stone.”

  She thanked him and hurried up the hill.

  Barbarian. That’s what they all saw. Some clueless tourist bumbling around the great city Biysk.

  She found the library as directed. Many of the volumes had English titles. These must have been transcribed from the Stone and then printed. Consistent with Celeste’s access log, they all focused on the basic math and science behind nuclear and aerospace technology.

  An older gentleman walked up behind her. “May I help you find something, miss?”

  “Yes, I need a dictionary.”

  “This way.” He showed her to a table with an enormous codex on it. “This is the latest edition, with added technical terms and updated spellings.”

  “Is this what they sell at the bookstore?”

  The man chuckled. “No. That’s an abridged version for students who are too lazy. This is the real thing.”

  “You mean too lazy to read it, or too lazy to carry it?”

  “Yes.”

  She opened to the first page and skimmed. Wow, this was going to take forever. She whispered a command to turn on visual recording, then flipped through the pages, pausing just long enough to get a clear shot of each one. It would make some rather dry leisure reading later.

  One thing stood out. Many of those added terms the librarian mentioned were in fact English cognates. Much of the Stone’s technical content was in English, so it stood to reason that these people simply adapted the terms into their language. How convenient. When in doubt, use English and appear educated.

  Perhaps that’s why she got such odd looks while addressing Celeste. These people did not make a habit of conversing in English, but they understood it well enough.

  Susan returned ‘home’. Despite what those idiots believed, a girl of 25 would not be allowed to stay in the orphanage. Just standing there in front of the compound for a month, waiting for messengers to show up, would not do ... Then she saw herself melt into the wall and congeal back out of it. Yes, a chameleon would do the trick.

  * * *

  Susan led Revi to a new tent. Its outside had the same light-annihilating dark blue as the leaves of dendroids. Kantisto joined them, along with Akushi the village midwife. They closed the flap. The inside filled with soft light from the walls. The other source of light was a rectangular object about elbow height. It glowed with information and controls.

  “Kantisto, you will be in charge of this machine, but you must always share it with Akushi or anyone else who has the knowledge to use it. Do you understand?”

  He nodded.

  “Now, we will take a look at Revi’s baby. Akushi, come here and read this.”

  Like many of the new generation in the village, Akus
hi had learned to read at Antikva’s feet. Akushi stared at the writing on the screen. “It says ‘sound-see’.”

  “Yes. Touch the screen here.”

  Akushi did. A mass rose from the floor and wrapped Revi’s belly in a mesh of tiny sensors. An image appeared on the screen of a baby curled up, gently twitching with the rhythms of life. Akushi gasped and hopped for glee.

  “Let’s have an even better look. Touch here.”

  Akushi touched the indicated button. Lights erupted from the peak of the tent and several points along the side. They converged in the middle to form a shimmering ghost of the baby in 3D. She kicked and sucked her thumb.

  Susan said, “The Ancients loved pictures like these.”

  “Yes, they’re beautiful. I want one!”

  “Akushi, you must first get permission from Revi if you want a copy of her baby pictures. That is the tradition of Ancient medicine. Here is how you send the video to Revi’s mobile.” Susan directed Akushi to tap another button.

  A keypad appeared. The midwife entered Revi’s number and hit send.

  “When the baby comes, Revi can deliver her here. We can reduce her pain as much as she wants, even down to nothing.”

  Kantisto raised his eyebrows. “Don’t do such a thing! The mother’s pain is part of the soul’s journey into this life. If she feels no pain, the child may not have a soul.”

  Akushi said, “I think the baby will be fine.”

  Susan lurched in surprise. “Did you feel that?”

  Revi sat up, causing the mesh to withdraw from her belly. “What?”

  “I felt a tremor, short and sharp, like a hammer struck the Earth.”

  Revi shook her head.

  “I fear something dreadful has happened. Please excuse me.” Susan dashed out of the tent and parked the avatar. If her suspicions were correct, an infrasound shockwave was already propagating around the planet. To triangulate its source, each major swarm concentration needed to measure small changes in air pressure. She whipped out a simple program.

  The readings accumulated over the next day and pointed back to one place: the desert region south of the mountains of Birik. A 20 kiloton explosion. She wished it were an asteroid airburst. Those happened often enough. Some could even reach the megaton range. But this event had a seismic component, which could only mean one thing.

  One Night with the King

  Year 10, Day 217

  Three men turned the corner and walked toward the orphanage. Two were armed guards, much like the street patrolmen. The third stood a little shorter. His blue coat with gold trim spoke of royalty. The surveillance routine sent an alarm to Susan. In the time it took them to go a few more steps, her virtual presence arrived.

  She watched for just the right moment, when all three sets of eyes were on other things, to emerge from the wall. “Hello. I’m Susan. May I help you?”

  The man in the blue coat pulled out a sheet of paper with a photograph attached. “Indeed, Susan. You have been summoned to appear before the Great Leader. Congratulations!”

  Susan smiled and waited.

  The Messenger looked around awkwardly. “Um, if there’s anything you wish to bring, you may go pack. These strong gentlemen here will help you carry your luggage.”

  Something in the eyes of the two men betrayed a vision of clambering back to the inner city under piles of suitcases.

  “I have all I need right here.”

  The guards stifled sighs of relief.

  The Messenger said, “Very well, then. Come with us.”

  They walked to the inner city. This time the gate guards did not try to check papers. Instead they stood at attention and saluted as the small entourage went through. The Messenger led them onto a side-street, one of the rings which circled the hill. It wrapped around toward the palace. They stopped at an expansive two-story building.

  The Messenger said, “All the candidates will stay here in the royal guest quarters until the process is complete.” He led her to a reception desk inside, while their armed escort departed. He handed the paper with attached photographs to a woman there.

  “Ah, Susan,” the receptionist muttered. “You’re in suite 213. Your prep team is there waiting for you.”

  The Messenger bowed to Susan and left the building. The receptionist went back to her paperwork.

  Susan climbed the lobby stairs, found 213 and knocked.

  A woman opened the door. “Oh, Susan the Barbarian is here! Hi, I’m Tigi. Please come in.” She stepped out of the way and gestured into the suite. A small sitting area filled the first part of the room. A man and a woman stood and bowed to Susan.

  Tigi said, “These are Mata and Hegai. The Great Leader has assigned us to make your visit pleasant, and your audience most successful.”

  The man gestured to the sitting area.

  Susan took the hint. Immediately the three staff sat as well. Susan said, “So, this is the virgin harem, as it were.”

  They stared at each other in puzzlement, then chuckled. Hegai replied, “Not at all. The Great Leader is not like the barbarian kings of old. You are free to leave any time.”

  Tigi said, “Mata and I will help you prepare over the next two days. Hegai is here to provide expertise in the one department we lack, that is, a man’s perspective. He is the costume designer for all the candidates.”

  Susan nodded. “Very well. I’m in your hands.”

  Hegai said, “Please stand on the coffee table and turn around slowly.”

  Susan did so, silently shifting balance from foot to foot in tiny steps.

  “You don’t have any shoes!”

  “I usually don’t wear shoes.”

  “Mmm ... very nice ... You have a tremendous sense of fluidity and balance. I like the way you shift your weight and almost hover above the table. Your greatest asset is, erm, your butt. No other candidate can defeat you there, so I suggest you make the best use of it. A belly dance costume. Light colors for your dark skin, perhaps gold.”

  “I don’t know how to belly dance.”

  Mata said, “That’s fine dear. Just do a traditional dance.”

  “I don’t know any of your traditional dances. In fact, I have never really danced in my life.”

  Silence fell in the room. The prep team all stared at each other.

  Hegai muttered, “I’m pretty sure you have to dance ...” He pulled out the pamphlet and skimmed through it. “Yes. Rule 34.”

  Tigi said, “We’ll get a dance instructor.”

  Susan shook her head. “I can do something that will pass as dance. Don’t worry about it.” She stepped off the table and took her seat.

  Hegai sketched furiously on a pad of art paper using a set of colored pencils.

  She asked, “Where did you get those?”

  He muttered, “Yes ... odd to have such frivolities ... Great Leader ordered them.” About ten minutes later he turned the pad around for the three women to see.

  Susan gasped. “That’s magnificent!” Gold and blue and rippling muscles, skirted in multicolored streamers, encircled with sparkles.

  He tore off the sheet and placed it on the table for them. He stood and gathered his art supplies. “These two ladies will make it happen for you. Good luck, Miss Barbarian.” He made a slight bow and left the suite.

  * * *

  Susan waited in line with the other girls in the service passage, peering into the inner court. Hegai really wanted them near the main doors, but no-one could stand to miss the show, particularly not the other contestants. Servants squeezed past with food and drink.

  This was not a banquet in the strict sense, merely the usual evening meal for Temujin’s family, friends and advisers. They sat at tables arranged around the sides of the room, leaving the central floor open. The Great Leader himself sat on a dais at the end of the hall.

  Opposite him, six guards flanked the large formal doors. They wore blue coats with gold trim forming the insignia of Birik, just like the Messenger who had fetched her. Each st
ood with a ceremonial spear in his left hand and a more practical firearm strapped around his waist.

  Considering the enormous power of this civilization, Susan felt the arrangement was quite modest, no more pretentious than the hall at Chefurbo, but with so much more to pretend about.

  She kept telling herself this was all a practical joke, just a way to get the Great Leader’s attention so she could deliver an ultimatum. It wasn’t working. What if she screwed up? Fell on her face and looked like a klutz? Predictive teleop stretched to its limit to compensate for the 100-millisecond round trip between Birik and her Stone. Without it, the avatar would be nearly impossible to operate.

  And what if he wanted her? Would she really go through with it and have sex with him? Would she actually make a commitment to stay by his side for life? Only an extraordinary man could win her genuine admiration.

  The other candidates for this evening looked equally anxious. What was running through their heads?

  Hegai came and whispered fiercely, “Miss Jung, you’re up. Go, go, go!”

  The poor girl turned and followed him back out the service passage to the vestibule. She wore a form-fitting silk dress with slits up her thighs, printed with a profusion of red flowers. Her long black hair was coiled into a tight bun and stabbed with a pair of chopsticks. She looked the part of royal consort, a delicate flower in silk streamers.

  In contrast, Susan’s manufactured persona was barbarian: untamed vigor, savage nobility, and above all, raw sexuality. How annoying, but perhaps there was a grain of truth to it. Maybe she really was bit raw and dangerous, using her sexuality as a bludgeon. Fear me!

  The doors of the inner court swung into the vestibule, revealing Miss Jung, quiet and poised. One of the honor guards pounded the wood floor three times with the butt of his spear. “Miss Jung, from the East Coast.”

  Musicians played a lively melody and she danced her way into the hall. Traditional movements, sweeping and graceful, took her around the floor to be examined by all the diners. She looked like a queen.

  The whole routine lasted about four minutes. The music ended exactly as she stood before the Great Leader. She bowed.