by T J Trapp
Alec felt the wall.
“Not there. Here,” the drone corrected, pointing to the proper spot.
Alec could feel the wall focusing dark energy from the concentrator. He lowered the temperature and felt dark energy cool the wall and a layer of cooler air roll of the wall. He raised the temperature and felt the dark energy heat the wall and a warmer air layer rise from the wall. Alec played with the wall in fascination for a few minutes. This was an application that he had never considered.
Then he noticed the lead drone staring at him as if he were a country bumpkin and stepped away from the wall.
Alec looked around. Only the two of them were in the room. Alec pulled out a key for the drone neckband.
“Do you want me to take your band off?” Alec asked.
The drone recoiled in horror.
“No master! Please no!” he said. “That would displease the Mothers, and I do not want them to be displeased. Their pleasure is much more important than my life.”
Not the reaction I was expecting, thought Alec.
The drone touched one of the sleeping room windows, and Alec could feel the dark energy changing the glass to a darker shade, immediately diminishing the glare from the artificial light globes in the courtyard. The two of them walked back into the bathing room. The lead drone noted with quiet horror that the water temperature had dropped while they were gone and quickly raised it. After that Erin dismissed the drone, and the drone collected Erin’s folded clothes and quietly left. Alec slid into the hot water with Erin, and they talked about the day’s events.
Alec periodically did raise the water temperature.
“They know I am truth reading, so everything they say is the truth,” Erin told Alec, “but I sense an undertone of deception. We need to be careful tomorrow.”
Just in case of trouble, Erin summoned Rhor to stand guard at the door of their sleeping quarters, but there were no events. Even though the bed was comfortable, and he was with his consort, Alec slept poorly. He sensed dark energy all through the night. It felt as if there were multiple sources of dark energy, and one source appeared to be throbbing and pulsing in erratic patterns.
✽✽✽
In the morning, the drones were working long before they were up. Alec could see that one of the drones had been there early because the window was clear, the room was warm, and Erin’s purloined travel clothes had been cleaned, stacked, and folded beside her bed. The new clothes from the tailor were also placed beside her bed. The tailor was waiting discretely outside the sleeping room to ensure that the Mother’s clothes were perfect and that her clutchman was properly outfitted. The cut was tighter than Alec preferred, but it was due to the style and not to imperfections in the skill of the tailor. Alec thought Erin looked radiant in the outfit that the tailor had made.
“How long did it take you to make the clothes?” Erin asked, twirling before a mirror.
“All night,” the tailor replied, bowing his head. “It was no trouble at all. I sent for help from other shops, and we finished just before I brought them here.”
“Well, good work,” said Erin. “Now you can go get some rest.”
“Thank you,” the tailor said, beaming at the compliment. Elf Mothers expected perfection, and they never complimented service. The tailor continued, “But, of course, I have others that I must serve today. I will take a short break this evening when I have completed my day’s tasks.”
A delightful breakfast had been prepared and was carried to Erin’s room so that she and her clutchman could eat in bed if she desired. She did. As they were finishing breakfast, a drone announced that she had a visitor. Erin took her time finishing breakfast and preparing herself for the day. Then she came out to meet her visitor: a young woman elf, with three male elves following
“Greetings,” the young woman said. She wore a ring like Erin’s on her hand. “I am Zera, and I am your host. Welcome to our city! The Disca will see you at mid-afternoon. I have been instructed to show you the New Haven. I understand you know very little of our ways. I will escort you and your clutch. The other three members of your party who are not your clutchmen may remain here at the residence for the day.”
Erin summoned her riders and directed Thom and Bon to accompany her and Alec; she gave the other three riders instructions to not stray far from their quarters. Zera looked for a long time at Bon.
“Your clutch choice is strange, but I know of no tradition that forbids it.”
“The Disca has honored you with all the privileges of a Mother, but no weapons will be allowed at the gathering, so leave your sword,” she said to Erin.
Erin reluctantly took her sword off and hung it by the door. The other three also removed their swords. Alec looked at his staff and decided it was not a weapon.
“I know little about Mothers or what privileges have been bestowed upon me,” said Erin. “Can you explain it to me?”
As they left the residence, Zera explained.
“When a girl acquires her talent we have a solemn ceremony. At the end of the ceremony the girl is granted womanhood and is called a Mother. Every Mother leads a clutch – her clutch would include her, or course, and her three male elves, and their accompanying drones.
“Mothers usually have only one talent, but a few have multiple talents. My talent is as an empath. I can sense feelings. The coercers have the most desired talent and are at the top of the pecking order, even though the empath talent is more important to our society. I don’t think that you orbs – or cross-breeds – have anything like that.”
“What happens to the boys?” Erin asked. “Do they have a similar ceremony?”
“Oh no!” Zera said, with a touch of contempt. “They are just males. Nothing special. But when they are mature, the Mothers assign the males to a clutch. Once a male enters a clutch, he is under his Clutch Mother’s control.”
“So you tell them what to do?”
“Yes – we can mentally communicate with our clutchmen over long distances.”
“Then all of the … males … become your servants?”
Zera laughed. “No, the male elves serve the clutch. The male drones are our servants – they are orbs that we have domesticated. They do our bidding and perform everything required to maintain our society.”
“How do I tell them apart?” Erin asked, feeling slightly confused.
Zera laughed again. “The drones wear the neckbands, of course, and the male elves do not. We use the bands to ensure the drones remain totally compliant.”
“I see – the Mothers control the drones through the neckbands,” Erin said, remembering her own time wearing a slave neckpiece. “But how do the Mothers control others … the clutchmen? They … you … seem to have a great deal of control.”
“We sense the force as if it is lines that move around people. As an empath, I feel the change in the lines to sense truth. A good coercer can twist the lines to influence behavior.”
“I have sensed the lines before, but I never understood what they were,” said Erin. “What about the apprentices? Are they like clutchmen or like drones?”
Zera looked at her and shrugged her shoulders. “We can only bond with three clutchmen, so often there are more male elves than we can bond. We have apprentices because it cuts down on the number of unclutched males that are loose and causing trouble. A Mother can have up to three apprentices in training to replace her clutchmen.”
I guess you are my clutchman, Erin thought to Alec. Or do you need more training?
Alec unobtrusively kicked her ankle.
Zera continued to walk them around, pointing out interesting items of commerce or business taking place in the New Haven, always addressing herself directly to Erin.
“That is a special work-training facility. We train some of our drones to use dark energy. They keep the city in repair.”
Alec wandered over to get a closer look at one of the drones working in the facility, with Zera frowning at his impudent display of interest. He co
uld feel that a band of dark energy connected the drone's medallion to a structure in the middle of town.
Erin, he thought, they have a projection generator and dark energy receivers. They can use that to generate dark energy in a central location and then transmit it over a distance. They use the dark energy transmitted from the concentrator to support their lifestyle!
Don’t use Wizard-speak on me right now, please, Erin thought back.
They headed up a broad boulevard passing a large ornate building.
“This is our Ministry of Tradition,” Zera said proudly. “One of our most important ministries. Very important to guide our everyday events, to make sure we all adhere to the ancient ways. We know that innovation and change will set our society on a path to ruin, so we only allow change if it is approved by all members of the Disca.”
“What happens if there is a change?” asked Erin, thinking of her sword with the glowing handle. “If you find a better way?”
“It is hard to imagine that someone would find ‘a better way,’” said Zera with a hint of disdain. “To repeat an action that is not a tradition requires approval and incorporation into our lexicon. By design, it is very time-consuming process, and it is challenging to add something to our traditions. Or take something away.”
Alec opened his mouth to ask a question, but a thought from Erin stopped him.
Don’t anger Zera unnecessarily. Play along with the rules here. Either think the question to me or get permission like a good clutchman.
Alec stepped in front of Zera and stood with his head down. Being taller than the elf, he stared down at the top of her head.
“Ask,” said Zera, looking up at him, clearly more satisfied with Alec’s behavior.
“I thought it was technology that you feared, but you use a lot of technology in your lifestyle.”
“It is not technology that leads to ruin,” said Zera. “It is change that opens the path to ruin. Innovation brings about change, so we only allow technological innovation when it is essential. Afterward, we follow the new tradition and not the old one.”
This conversation reminded Alec of the new technology – death rods – that Dr. Alder had tried to introduce on Nevia. “You seem to use the sword and spear for your defense. Why don’t you use weapons that fire projectiles, like the death rods used on the Grasslands?” he asked.
Zera decided that Alec asking the second question was only a minor breach of protocol.
“All kinds of weapons that use projectiles have been tried by escaped orb herds, on many worlds, but they are easy for our dark energy drones to counter by creating bending fields that divert the projectiles. We have many counter-weapons stored in our armory. Many of them we have never used. We have found that the only weapons that cannot be countered are those that are powered by strength and speed of arms – our swords and spears.”
They came to another large building with no windows. “This is our Hatchery,” Zera said.
“Hatchery?” questioned Erin.
“For our eggs. I forget that you orbs do not reproduce as we do.”
“Eggs?”
“Yes, our eggs. An elf Mother produces two clutches of eggs during her breeding lifetime. The two breeding periods are about three years apart. It is a wonderful time! For four days or so when the eggs ripen, we go into our breeding frenzy! We couple with as many males as possible while in the frenzy.” Zera smiled broadly. “About a month after the frenzy, the Mother goes to the hatchery and deposits her eggs. We always have four eggs, three male and one female.”
They entered a large room that had rows of cradles; only about a fifth of them seemed to be in use. On one side were small soft nests with groups of eggs the size of a robin’s egg, bathed in a warm light; the center of the room held covered cradles with individual leathery eggs; on the far side were eggs the size of a large watermelon, each in its own open cradle. Alec estimated that there were close to a hundred eggs all total.
“Your way is different, is it not?” Zara asked Erin. “I hear that you must grow your eggs inside of your body?”
“Yes, we grow our baby inside, below our heart,” Erin replied.
“This is so much easier. A growing egg can become quite heavy; I can only imagine that it would feel dreadful to have such a burden inside of your body. And I can’t imagine what it must be like to tear it out of your body when it is finished! Once my eggs are laid, I am done with that business.”
Alec saw people moving from cradle to cradle and infusing dark energy into each egg. They were using a device to focus the dark energy that reminded Alec of the crystal that the old Seer had used, back at Erin’s city.
“What are they doing?” Alec asked.
Zera looked at Erin. “You have a poorly mannered clutchman. If he were mine, I would severely discipline him for speaking without my permission.”
When Erin nodded that it was all right to answer, Zera said to Erin, “They are feeding the eggs. The eggs need to be fed several times a day with dark energy. The special cradles hold the dark energy and allow for fewer feedings a day. The nursemaids do the feeding and watch the eggs until they are hatched.”
“It looks mostly empty,” said Erin.
“Yes, our numbers are slowly declining. We started out in the New Haven with twenty thousand elves, and now we are down to only about five thousand. Our number of full-elf female births isn’t sustaining our population.”
“How long does it take … for the eggs … to be done?”
“The Hatchery swaddles the eggs for ten trips of the five moons,” Zara said. “Then when the egg is ready, we open it. Much easier on our Mothers than your way,” she added slyly.
“Where are the babies?” Erin asked.
“‘Babies?”
“You know, infants.” Erin made a cradling, rocking motion with her arms. Zera looked puzzled. “After they come out of the eggs. What do you do with them? Do they go back to their mothers?”
“Oh! The freshlings? No, of course they don’t go back to the Mother! Why would she want them? She is done. The fresh elves are put into the child-pen as soon as they emerge,” she said, pointing to a nearby walled area. As they left the room, Alec looked through a viewing window and nudged Erin. An attendant was helping an elf-child out of a newly-opened egg; as the moist creature unfolded, Alec thought to Erin, that looks like a four-year-old on my world, not a baby!
Zera led them to a smaller room with no cradles, dominated by a solid crystal panel.
“What is that?” asked Erin.
“It is our freshling panel,” Zera answered. “It shows us the true blood. We test all freshlings soon after they emerge. Freshlings that are not pure elf are eliminated.” She raised her eyebrows in a slight smirk. “Cross-breeds happen fairly often because we enjoy frolicking with our drones. That is why we do not have enough female elf births. Almost half of the females are cross-breeds.”
She led Erin to the panel. “We know that you are a cross-breed – go ahead and touch the panel. You can see how it works.”
Erin touched the panel. It glowed red. “Child of Lian,” an artificial voice said.
Then Zera touched the panel, and it turned green. “Child of Elia.” She smiled, with a palpable sense of superiority.
Zera gestured to Bon, Erin’s rider. She touched the panel, and it turned brown.
“Pure orb blood,” said Zara, dismissively.
Then Thom touched it. The panel turned red. “Child of Lian,” the panel said.
“Try it,” Erin said to Alec.
It will just be brown, and that won’t help you, he thought to her.
Erin thought back. Try it, just for fun.
Alec touched the panel. It turned red. “Child of Siara,” the panel showed. Alec pulled his hand back quickly.
What! How can that be? he thought.
Erin was startled at this result as well, but before she could collect her thoughts into a coherent message, Zera took her arm.
“Do you understand
about cross-breeds?” she said, looking a little concerned, glancing at Alec. “Male cross-breeds are only a minor concern. If they are useful, we keep them but make sure they are not capable of breeding. We always need male drones.” She patted Erin’s arm. “But Mothers are a different situation. We hear that some elf societies allow cross-breed Mothers to be a part of their society, but our tradition is to only allow pure elf Mothers to live. Unless the Disca changes our tradition, there will be a problem with you. The Disca has never allowed a female cross-breed to live.
“I fear for you,” she said to Erin. “If you go before the Disca, they may not allow you to keep your life – and the fate of the others in your party will depend on your fate.”
Erin let this sink in. “We have already decided on our path and don’t plan to change it now,” she said. “Our reason for being here is so important that maybe the Disca will disregard your ancient traditions. We will not know until we meet.” Then she changed the subject.
“According to the history of my people, and as indicated by your sensor, I am a direct descendent of an elf named Lian. She is called the First Mother of my land. Who was she?”
Zera thought for a moment. “I am not familiar with an ancestor of that name, but your land was settled by elves that did not agree with our traditions. One such tradition was that of eliminating cross-breeds.” She paused. “The name ‘Lian’ has a special meaning to us. It was supposedly given to the first girl elf freshling on a newly-settled world. The word means ‘First Mother’ in an ancient form of our language.” She squeezed Erin’s arm and led the group from the building.
Alec was still ruminating about the freshling panel. It must have malfunctioned, he thought to Erin. Probably with their dark energy concentrator becoming unstable, it glitched and said I was a cross-breed. That had to be it.
