Time of the Stones

by Fred Rothganger

  He said, “Welcome, Miss Jung. What do you think of the rail system that brought you here?”

  “It is good to connect all your great kingdom.”

  “Indeed.”

  They conversed for several more minutes, then he dismissed her. The room echoed with applause as she returned to the main doors. They swung out to release her, revealing the next candidate. The announcer said, “Miss Zlata, from the province of Omsk.” The routine repeated.

  Susan did not see the rest. Hegai came and urged, “Miss Barbarian, go!”

  She hurried down the hall behind him. Hegai was stressed by the job of herding women around but seemed to enjoy himself nonetheless. Susan imagined him as a television producer in a former age.

  They entered the grand vestibule. He pointed to a strip of tape on the floor. “There’s your start mark. Good luck!” He stepped away.

  She quieted her mind. The final few minutes ticked away. Applause rose in the hall. The doors swung open toward her. Miss Zlata walked to Susan’s right.

  The announcer called, “Miss Barbarian.” No place designation. For whatever reason, they never inquired about that. Perhaps it was sufficient that she came from outside their kingdom.

  The musicians played nothing. She drifted swift and silent like a ghost on a lake, bare feet on wood floor. She had insisted the costume contain nothing noisy, no castanets or jangly bits of metal. She reached the center, raised her left hand above her head and lingered there twirling her wrist. Then she sprang forward into a single hand stand.

  A collective gasp broke the silence in the room.

  The musicians began playing a slow quiet rhythm on strings.

  She planted her second hand on the floor for symmetry, then split her legs straight out to her sides to form a T. The gold panties stretched tight. Her skirt of royal blue streamers covered very little when it hung to her feet. Now it draped down her bare midriff and over her bust, offering no covering at all. Her long hair spilled into a pool of red on the floor.

  She brought her legs back together slowly, toes pointing at the ceiling.

  She sprang back to her feet and moved into a cartwheel. The musicians gradually increased the tempo. She went into a series of twirls and flips, using all the different forms, front, side and back, chaining them in long fluid sequences. She produced even more complex gyrations in the air, like a figure skater without the ice, only bare feet on a dance floor.

  Her speed increased with the music until she was a blur of brown, gold, blue and red. She ran to the main entrance, right beside the guards, took two steps up the doorframe and propelled herself into a high backflip.

  A guard stared agape at his empty hand. The spear was missing.

  She wielded it as if for battle, imagining the fight with the Religious Police in Sanat. She spun constantly, warding off attackers on every side. She twirled the spear to deflect imagined sword thrusts, then struck with the butt to temporarily stun an opponent.

  Martial dance ran deep in the Birik culture. They immediately understood the story of an epic battle, a heroine surrounded on all sides by her enemies.

  The music neared its end. She twirled the spear like a baton, then slammed its point into the floor as the last note struck. She sunk to her knees and spread her arms on the floor in a deep bow to the Great Leader, flinging hair into a great circle of fire.

  “Come here, Miss Barbarian.”

  She stood and approached Temujin. A simple white robe wrapped his golden-tan skin, with blue and red bands around the chest and a cap of gold filigree. Mustache and beard were trimmed in a tight goatee. Eyes flashed with intelligence. Susan switched to infrared for a better look. Underneath all that was solid muscle. Now this was a man who belonged on the cover of an erotic novel.

  “Your profile says you have no education.”

  She replied in Ancient English, “My apologies, Your Greatness. I didn’t know your language well enough to answer. I have a doctorate in Clinical Psychology.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “The university does not offer Psychology.”

  “I earned it elsewhere. I am master of more than ten disciplines, only four of which you now pursue.”

  “That’s a mighty boast!”

  “And one that is easily verified.”

  “Your English is passable, with a vulgar accent.”

  “My accent is flawless. This is my native language.”

  Temujin scowled at her. “English is a dead language, of only academic interest.”

  “Yes, the English you find in the Stone is no longer spoken, but it lives on in all its children, the local dialects spoken in many parts of the world.”

  In Biriktil he asked, “And how did you come to speak such an ancient language as your mother tongue?”

  “If you summon me to whisper in your ear, you will know.”

  A murmur went around the room.

  “I command you to tell me now!”

  “It’s really quite simple. I lied about my age.”

  Temujin stared at her blankly for a moment, then gradually broke into a laugh. The laugh grew until he roared at the ceiling. He slapped his palm on the arm of the throne. “You mean to tell me, child, that you are over a thousand years old?” He laughed some more.

  Susan laughed too, and the rest of the court joined in.

  “Very well, Miss Barbarian, keep your secret. I may yet draw it from your lips.” He made a gracious gesture with his hand for her to go.

  The room broke into applause as she turned and drifted toward the door. There was the spear. She yanked it out of the wood. Was now the right time to deliver the ultimatum? Perhaps not. It felt like the game had only just begun.

  There was the next candidate, waiting on the start mark. Susan veered left and handed the spear back to the guard as she continued into the vestibule. Behind, the announcer called the next name.

  Two armed guards took charge of her for the short walk back to the guest house. These people were meticulous about the safety of the Great Leader’s women, particularly after dark. They proceeded out the main entrance of the building and turned onto the street.

  They had just reached the door of the guest house when a Messenger ran up. “The Great Leader commands that no one but he may remove your costume tonight.”

  The guards grinned at each other.

  Susan stared at the Messenger. “Is it not one of the rules that all the women appear before he makes any decisions?”

  The Messenger shrugged. “The Great Leader made the rules. His only wish was to avoid embarrassing candidates with a public judgment. Come now. I will take you to his chambers.” The Messenger led her back to the palace. In the vestibule, a grand staircase wound up and blended into a balcony that encircled the chamber.

  Several doors appeared at intervals along the balcony. Guards saluted the Messenger and opened one. He led her into a long hall. Three guards waited at the other end. The Messenger told them, “Great Leader commands that his new concubine be afforded all courtesy until he joins her this evening.”

  The men nodded and opened the door into the royal suite. One asked, “Would you like some food?”

  The thought of food sounded appealing. None of the women ate before their presentation. Too much risk of throwing up in the middle, and a heavy stomach could slow them down. She nodded to the guard.

  “I’ll call a maid.” He closed the door behind her.

  The royal suite was not much larger than her guest suite. To the left, a four-poster bed covered much of one wall. Straight ahead was a large window overlooking the city. She stepped forward and gasped. The industrial corridor filled the window like a picture in a frame, with all its lights glowing.

  To her right, partially beneath the window, stood a desk. Beyond it, at the corner, a bookshelf. Then the entrance to a bathroom, and finally a closet. Temujin was modest. Perhaps that was the secret of his success. He focused all his resources on the goal rather than luxuries.

  She went to the closet.
Merely a few outfits slid to one side. The rest was empty. It spoke of a queen who once filled that space and shared life with him. Perhaps there was a gap in his heart the same size as the gap in this closet.

  A knock came at the door. “Miss Barbarian, may I come in?”

  “Yes.”

  The door opened and a maid entered with a tray of food. She set it on the end of the bed and quietly withdrew.

  Susan sat next to the tray and ate slowly. She had about an hour to prepare. What would it take to convince this guy?

  She summoned a good supply of swarm. Over the next 15 minutes, flies landed on the side of the building and inserted themselves through the seams of the window. They formed a chameleon on the surfaces of the walls and ceiling.

  A gentle demonstration of power seemed best. She issued commands to construct a volumetric projector like the one in the medical tent. Then she ate some more. Among the goodies sat a generous bowl of swarm berries. She grinned and carried it over to the desk.

  Looking out the window, her mind drifted among the city lights. Would she really do it? It had been five months since Erik. Now sex seemed like a fun idea, a tasty little diversion in a life of duty. But the rules of the Order were clear: the expectations of the partners become a commitment, whether they be for monogamy or a one-night stand.

  Temujin expected monogamy, at least on her part. He would be free to flitter between all his wives as it suited him. That seemed a bit one-sided. But then, she was not in this for romance. She had chosen the therapy for this civilization, and now was the time—

  The door opened. She turned and bowed. “Good evening, Your Greatness.”

  He strode forward. “In this room, titles are forbidden. You may address me as Temujin.”

  “And outside this room?”

  “Titles are mandatory.”

  She chuckled and turned back to the view of the city. “How did the rest of the pageant go? Did any other women win your favor?”

  “I hardly noticed them. I spent the whole evening thinking about this.” He ran his hands down her back, tracing the edges of the costume.

  She sighed with pleasure.

  No! Her negotiating position would be weaker if he got sex first. “I love your city, Temujin. I love the focus and discipline of your people. You are a builder, struggling to raise your civilization from the ashes of a former age. My heart is drawn to you because I too am a builder.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I am a servant of the Stone, like Celeste.”

  “More boasts! You are quite a liar, Miss Barbarian.”

  “You said no titles. My name is Susan.”

  He wrestled with her bottom piece for an awkwardly long time.

  “Just rip it off. That’s what you want to do.”

  “Then I can’t take it off of you next time.”

  “Here.” She reached down to her left hip, untied two knots, pressed a fold into the fabric and undid some hidden hooks. The garment separated.

  He pulled the flap. The bottom piece slid down her right leg and crumpled in a pile around her foot. He turned her around and pressed her close, one hand on the small of her back and one between her shoulders. With marvelous coordination he stroked her below while working the clasps of the bra. It came undone.

  She stepped back and raised her arms toward him.

  He slid the bra off.

  She darted away before he could put his hands on her again. “You may go no further until we finish negotiations.” She stood in the open area between the foot of the bed and the bathroom.

  He laughed. “What negotiations? Rule twenty-two. You became my concubine when you responded to the summons.”

  “It’s good to know that all the legal arrangements have been settled by your customs. But as a visiting dignitary, you must also satisfy my customs.” She held out a fist, flipped it palm up and splayed her fingers.

  Light erupted from three points on the ceiling and crossed to form an image of the Earth, about a meter in diameter.

  The man gasped.

  Susan spoke with the mock enthusiasm of a game-show announcer. “A new volumetric display. And look, what every dictator wants—” She put one hand on her hip and gestured with the other hand toward the globe. “—the world. You win all this and the girl!”

  He stared at the units on the ceiling. “The Stone has a pattern for this, but we never built one. Where did you get it? How is it powered?”

  “I built it in the last hour while waiting for you. As for power, it’s drawing as much current as your feeble electric light system can handle. The rest is biological.”

  “You built it in an hour?”

  “My civilization is centuries beyond yours. Swarms of living machines do my will. This room is filled with them. Your whole city is filled with them.”

  He glared at her. “Impossible!”

  She stepped over to the desk, took a berry out of the bowl and ate it. “Mmm. You have such good taste.” She held the bowl up. “Want one?”

  He stared at it. “I’m still full from dinner.”

  “You should always worry when something seems too good to be true. A few months ago, a new kind of berry bush appeared out of nowhere. It grew fast, made tasty fruit and asked little in return. Now everyone has a bush in their back yard. You have seven in your royal vegetable garden. If your university were not so focused on electronics and rocket science, there might have been a curious botanist who tried to study the plant. He would have looked under a microscope and learned that it was no plant at all, but a bio-mechanical chimera.”

  Temujin shook his head in dismay.

  “Your men are surprisingly careless. I could have hurled that spear through your heart, but they were all so mesmerized with the dancing girl that they forgot about your safety. Now I’m here in the room alone with you. I could kill you with my bare hands.”

  “I’d like to see you try.”

  She smiled at him coyly. “I’d rather have sex than fight. Sex is so much more fun than violence, don’t you think?” She set the bowl down and went back to the display area. “You are king of the eastern hemisphere. I am queen of the west. Let me show you.”

  She touched the globe and rotated it. “This is the Long River Basin, my home. And here this is the Arkin Basin—”

  Temujin took hold of her waist and stroked her tummy.

  “—To the south, the great continent of Amazonas, and finally the Southern Islands.”

  “May I try?” He reached up and gestured. The Earth turned for him, putting a grin of pleasure on his face. “You omitted Canukistan at the far north. Are they under your control?”

  “I don’t think of it as control, more like protection.”

  “We exchange trading ships with them over the Arctic Ocean.”

  “Trade all you wish, but don’t try to dominate them. Everything in the western hemisphere belongs to me. Do not expand into my lands.”

  “Then you must agree not to expand into my lands. You will not interfere in my internal affairs.”

  “Agreed. We will call it the Treaty of Limitations. Each of us chooses not to grow, for the greater good.”

  “Shall we write it down?”

  “No. It’s the spirit that matters. You will declare me your queen. You will announce to your nation that I am the Empress of the Western Hemisphere, and we are forging an alliance by marriage.”

  “Like the barbarians of old.”

  She nodded, untied his coat and slipped it off his shoulders.

  He finished undressing. He put one arm around her back, the other around her knees, flung her onto the bed, and dove after her. They grappled like two wrestlers, rolling back and forth in pitched battle. He tried to pin her, but she easily turned him over. She held his arms outstretched and brushed his chest with hers.

  Rage radiated from him. Was he angry with her for limiting his kingdom? Still angry at his first queen?

  They both knew she would defeat him eventually. He lusted too mu
ch not to finish in her body. The question was whether he could defeat her first. If he could reduce her to a weeping puddle of feminine mush, it would represent a victory over her half of the world. She had no intention of giving him that satisfaction.

  She bumped him with her butt, wrestled him until he was gasping for air, then let him mount her. She rocked him with small thrusts and gyrations, anything to make him lose control. He growled in frustration and withdrew for a moment. She laughed. He pushed into her with all the more ferocity.

  There was something intoxicating about the whole exercise. The raw energy that drove him was a kind of compliment to her feminine powers. Despite her best intentions, her body was rising, a growing intensity of desire. She felt deep admiration for his work. She was making love with humanity, with civilization itself ...

  She lost concentration. Everything swelled into an enormous mountain. The sun broke over the peak in warm rays. In the valley, a summer thunderstorm rumbled. She breathed faster and faster, gasped and cried out, “Ohh ... Temujin ...”

  He won, but she took him down with her.

  They drifted off to sleep together. Later in the night he turned her over and started again, this time more gently. She offered no resistance. That fight was over. Perhaps now they could settle down to something like a meaningful relationship.

  Afterward she got up and went to the bathroom. It had a shower stall. She got in and turned on the water, then let out a blood-curdling scream.

  Temujin came running. “What’s the matter?”

  “There’s no hot water!”

  “How do you barbarians stay so vigorous if you bathe in hot water?”

  Queen Susan

  Dawn flamed through the picture window. Temujin got up and closed curtains between the posts of the bed. He dressed, then poked his head through and kissed her hip. “Enjoy your day!” He left.

  Susan derived no pleasure from lazing around. She had been awake for hours, simply playing the part of new bride. She jumped up and issued a command to form her gown.

  A knock came at the door. “May I enter, Madame?”

  “Yes.”

  The door swung open and the maid walked in with a tray of food. She waited while Susan ate, then picked up the tray. “I am to show you to your new room.”