IGMS Issue 13 Page 3

  "Not angry," said the old woman. She hobbled toward a rain barrel sink and pumped water into a wooden mug.

  "I couldn't understand what they were shouting. They were dragging me."

  "If not angry, then what?" I asked, watching the woman carry the mug to Shandra. Shandra took it with shaking brown fingers, but just stared off toward the wall.

  "Then they released you?" asked the woman.

  "I heard Dar'el's voice. And Van'el. Then more shouting and tugging on me, and then no one was watching me. I found a lantern somehow. Funny . . . I don't remember picking one up."

  "Why would they hurt her if they're not angry?" I asked.

  "I realized I was near Karla's house, so I crept around back. I saw her go into the trees."

  The woman frowned. "They didn't follow you?"

  "Hey," I said, and rapped on the woman's arm with my knuckles.

  "I am Nanayant Elt Dor'is. Not 'Hey'." She sniffed, and scuffled back toward her collection of tins.

  "Ohhh, you're the Nanayant," said Shandra. "I should have guessed. But, why haven't we met you before now?"

  "I don't like visitors." Dor'is smeared brown speckles into a white ointment, and then crooked a green, wrinkled finger at Shandra. Shandra stood slowly, set down her mug, and obeyed. "That scratch will scar. Your skin is so dark." She smeared the ointment over Shandra's cheek.

  "Van'el likes my skin."

  "Let me see your shoulder."

  Shandra unlaced the ties of her cotton blouse and tugged the fabric down her arm to expose a jagged tear. She winced a little when Dor'is shoved more ointment into the wound, rough and quick. Then she pulled her blouse into place. "You should have been the first to bless us."

  Dor'is waved away Shandra's words, then hobbled toward me and offered me the tin. After I took it, she continued past me toward the cupboards. "All the men of Arway bought you, all the men should get to share you."

  I jumped to my feet. "You know about that?"

  "Of course she does," said Shandra. "The Nanayant knows all decisions concerning her village."

  "Bah. Don't make it sound so noble." Dor'is slid over calico fabric from a low cupboard to expose a Model III Repli-Chef. "You girls want Earl Gray or Darjeeling?"

  Shandra and I exchanged looks.

  "Darjeeling it is." Dor'is tapped the screen. Seconds later she opened the door of the white appliance and drew out a tray with three teacups. She scuffled over to set the tray on the table, took her cup, and blew across the hot surface. "I used to oversee the production of those, you know. For Alliance suppliers. And not just Repli-Chefs, but Steama-spanders and Inverseaffects, too. I've worked at a lot of interesting places."

  "You haven't lived here all your life?" Shandra asked.

  Dor'is tugged me out of the way of the chair. "Let an old woman sit, eh?" She lowered into the seat with a groan. "I've been here about six years now."

  "But a Nanayant is supposed to be a matriarch born and raised in the village." Shandra said.

  "So you read the brochure." Dor'is snorted. "Bureaucratic drivel. There haven't been matriarchs this side of the Walen'al River in generations."

  "Who was the Nanayant before you?"

  Dor'is sipped at her tea. "Wasn't one, far as I know. Old women die off out here in the wilderness all the time."

  Looking at Dor'is's wrinkled face, I wondered how much older "old" was supposed to be.

  "So why are you here?" asked Shandra, who had wandered her way toward the hearth and was crouching down to sit.

  Dor'is set down her teacup. "Not that it's any of your business, but I was sacked."

  I blinked. I looked at Shandra.

  "Fired. Let go," Dor'is said. "And then banished to the outlands like some kind of criminal and left to die off."

  "Then how did you make it to Arway?" Shandra asked.

  "She means Arway," I said.

  Dor'is stared at Shandra.

  "She likes it here," I explained.

  Then Dor'is stared at me. I shrugged.

  "I'd have starved already if I hadn't smuggled my own Repli-Chef in a flour bag stuffed inside a fruit barrel," said Dor'is.

  "Do the men know about that?"

  Dor'is shook her head. "They know what they're told. They're almost as easy to manage as a factory of appliance robots. At least, they were."

  "But you're the Nanayant. You can make them stop fighting." Shandra said.

  "I stopped dealing with males' affdesfals a long time ago. I'm not going to start now."

  I looked at Shandra. "The what?"

  Shandra shrugged, and looked toward Dor'is.

  "That isn't in the brochure," said the Nanayant. "Wouldn't do for earthlings to find out how dangerous the exchange program can be for your women, now would it?"

  "Dangerous?" I asked, and looked at Shandra. She was watching Dor'is.

  "Might put a damper on the plan. Or cease it altogether." She set down her empty teacup and retrieved one that had been meant for Shandra or me. I didn't want it, anyway. She rose out of the chair with a grunt and shuffled toward a window. "What you witnessed tonight wasn't anger, exactly."

  "You said that before."

  "It's more of a frenzy. A response to the influx of hormones induced by mating season."

  I grimaced.

  Shandra rolled her eyes. "Like testosterone. Earth males have the same thing."

  Dor'is shook her head. "Like testosterone, but not the same thing. There's a powerful chemical that stimulates their insular cortex. Makes them aggressive. Possessive."

  "Destructive?" I asked.

  "That's a lot of 'ive's," said Shandra.

  "Let a chemical like that eat at a male's brain long enough, makes them flare. That's affdesfals."

  "That friend of Dar'el's attacked Karla tonight, before the whole group of them came after me," said Shandra.

  Dor'is turned from the window to regard me. She gestured toward the hem of Dar'el's shirt against my thigh. "Were you wearing that?"

  "No!" I tugged at the shirt, trying to cover more skin.

  She turned back to the window. "The males respond to Reisan females coming into season -- we call it ripening -- when breasts develop and hips widen." She sipped at her tea. "She mates if she chooses. After some weeks, female hormones decrease, the season passes, and breasts and hips diminish again."

  "Diminish?" I asked.

  "Females return to who they are supposed to be. Until the next cycle."

  "How long is it between cycles?" asked Shandra.

  "What do you mean by 'supposed to be'?" I asked.

  Dor'is watched the night sky through the window. "The cycles are months apart. Years, sometimes, if you're lucky." She paused, her face collecting shadows. "I wasn't so lucky."

  "Lucky?" Shandra asked.

  "What do you mean by 'supposed to be'?" I asked again.

  Her eyes darkened. "Ripening confuses things. Makes a female lose sight of important things, the real things." She shook her head, glaring at the stars. "I'd worked so hard for so long, earning my way into an overseer's position at the capital. I knew what I wanted. I could think on my feet. React. Stay level-headed." She turned those darkened eyes over her shoulder toward me. "I was important, you know. Like so many other females. Smart. Analytical. I was using the brain I was meant to have."

  I didn't respond. I was trying to figure out which brain she was using now.

  "But hormones come whether you want them or not, don't they? Turning strong females into gibbering flirts. Turning gentle males into mindless beasts," she said. "You try denying the feelings your body is convinced you have!" She stabbed an accusing finger toward my face. "Feels like love. Feels like sacrificing everything you've ever wanted is the right thing. But it's just chemicals," she said, and then she rapped her index finger against her temple. "Chemicals."

  At that, her glare faded, and she looked between Shandra and me. "Used to be, they'd let us have a choice. Government took that away a long time ago. It's all just
trouble, the whole thing." Then she waved her teacup toward us. "And double the trouble, mixing a breed of earth females into our world who are always ripe."

  "I knew this wasn't a good idea," I said.

  Dor'is lowered her teacup. "You didn't want to come?"

  I crossed my arms. "I just wanted to be a teacher."

  "I argued, too."

  "So the Arway men are experiencing this affdesfals because of Karla and me?" Shandra asked.

  Dor'is pursed her lips and shook her head. "Karla got away, but you shouldn't have been allowed to escape. That leaves one conclusion, but I'm only guessing."

  "Guessing?"

  "That you are with child."

  Shandra gasped. She pressed her hands to her belly. "You think I'm pregnant?"

  "You're here, instead of being torn apart in the fat one's barn. Reisan males are sensitive to hormone signatures. Not consciously, of course."

  "I think Dar'el is," I said. "I think he knew this might happen."

  Dor'is snorted. "He knew. Why do you think he was chosen?"

  "So it was your decision," I said.

  She shrugged. "The men were told earth females could come, I tried to make the best of a bad situation. Dar'el has a faith that tempers him, and he could speak English. He's a smart one." She moved from the window and shuffled toward her little shelf of mysterious tins.

  "You just said I should have been torn apart in Ra'nen's barn. How did you know we were there?" asked Shandra.

  Dor'is set her teacup on the table. "Van'el is smart, too. And I had a good plan to control the initial hormonal response of the others."

  "What plan?" I asked.

  "I even concocted an elixir." She pulled the stopper on a small bottle and sniffed into it. "I can't imagine why it didn't work," she said, frowning at the container.

  "Why what didn't work?" I asked, leaning forward to see if I could get a sniff of the bottle myself.

  "Oh. Well, the elixir to impregnate you both as soon as possible," she said, without looking directly at me. "But it apparently hasn't worked in Dar'el's case."

  Shandra coughed behind her hand.

  I glared at her. She drew up her feet onto the bed, hugged her knees, and smiled at me.

  I turned my head to find Dor'is watching me. She bunched up her already-wrinkled brow and looked between Shandra and me in confusion.

  "Oh, for crying out loud," I said. "Dar'el and I haven't consummated yet, okay? Not that it's anyone's business."

  "He didn't mention any physical problems," said Dor'is.

  "Look," I said, and stood up. I tugged at the hem of Dar'el's shirt and stalked toward Dor'is. "I'm sure there's nothing wrong with Dar'el. I just didn't want to. Did it never dawn on anyone I might not want to?"

  Dor'is's eyes flashed with a Reisan blink. "No."

  I threw up my hands and groaned.

  "Are you saying," asked Dor'is, ". . . that despite being ripe, you chose against mating?"

  "What a romantic way of putting it," I said.

  "Why don't you just bless Karla and Dar'el?" asked Shandra. "Won't that eliminate all this confusion?"

  "What would that do?" I asked.

  Shandra stood and walked toward me. "A Nanayant blessing marks a union as sacred. No other male would dare claim you then."

  "That's so old-fashioned," said Dor'is.

  "So are oil lanterns," I said.

  "Tell me about it -- ah, Shandra . . ." Dor'is darted out her green hand to touch Shandra's arm.

  Shandra was peering beneath the gingham blanket at twisting, turning pipes. "What's this?"

  "Don't touch it." Dor'is's face hardened.

  Shandra tugged more blanket away. "But what is it? Looks like an old still." She smiled. "You brewing up home-grown kick-a-poo juice?"

  Dor'is pulled the fabric from Shandra's hands and covered the pipes back over. "Yes, and I don't exactly want the whole village to know or they'll be banging on my door at all hours wanting some."

  "You don't like wine?"

  "Allergic," said Dor'is. "Now can we change the subject?"

  "Yes, excuse me," I said. "We were talking about our many husbands and how I don't plan on sleeping my way through them. I'm leaving for the docking station in the morning."

  "You'll only make things worse," said Dor'is.

  "The men can have their money back. I'm going home."

  "Look," said Dor'is. "You can't just leave now."

  I marched toward the door. "So stop me."

  "Don't go out there, Karla." Dor'is shuffled to follow me, and moments later I felt something pressing hard to my spine.

  "What, are you threatening me?" I twisted, trying to look at whatever she was poking at my back.

  "Dor'is?" asked Shandra's frightened voice.

  "I can't let you go out there," said Dor'is.

  A sharp jolt shot up my spine and rattled my brain. I tried to cry out, but everything went black.

  I tried to move. Pain stabbed through my hips and thighs. My mouth was dry, and when I tried to open my eyes, they felt glued shut. Something was itchy against my back.

  "Karla?" Shandra's voice. "Are you awake?"

  I groaned.

  "Don't move right away. Dor'is said you'll ache some."

  "That witch shot me."

  "I know."

  "I guess the Repli-Chef isn't the only thing she smuggled in her flour sack."

  Shandra's hand touched my shoulder. "She said it was for your own good. That if the men saw you they'd hurt you."

  "And this feels so much better." I rolled to my side, and managed to peel my eyes open. I blinked at a fuzzy Shandra outline. "Where are we?"

  "The Nanayant shack. Dor'is must have left while I was sleeping."

  "What time is it?"

  "I don't know. I can't find a clock or a sundial or anything."

  I sat up on Dor'is's bed. A rush of nausea made me lean forward.

  "Go slow," said Shandra. "I'd give you something out of the Nanayant's tins, but I don't know enough about herbs."

  "There's likely rat poison or brain-washing drugs, anyway. I don't trust anything she's said."

  "Why would she lie?"

  "I don't know, Shandra, but I can't figure out why she'd shoot me, either."

  "Because she was worried --"

  "About what the sex-crazed Reisans would do to me. Yeah, I got that." I pushed to my feet. My eyesight was de-fuzzing and I could feel my legs again. I scuffled toward the door.

  "It's locked," said Shandra.

  "Did you try a window?"

  "There's just the one. It doesn't open."

  I scowled. "Sure, I'm seeing all kinds of reasons to trust her."

  "She just wants to keep us safe."

  "Or keep us prisoner." I turned to find Shandra sitting on the bed, her hands wringing. I realized it might be best to keep my opinions to myself for now. "You want something to eat? I could whip up some repli-eggs."

  "Maybe."

  "If you really are going to be a mom, you should keep up your strength."

  Shandra smiled. "All right."

  I made my way to the cupboard Dor'is had exposed last night, searching for the appliance. I yanked over a swatch of calico fabric. There it was, in all its shining glory, making me homesick. "What a relief," I said. The only thing I've really perfected on Dar'el's cooking stove is pancakes."

  "I miss hot chocolate," said Shandra.

  I knelt in front of the Repli-Chef and poked at the screen. "I hate when they change the programming. I can't find eggs."

  "Try poultry. I think they moved eggs from the dairy section on the model three last year."

  "Yeah, there it is." Then my hand paused. A realization crawled up my spine like a spider and tickled at the base of my brain. "Last year?"

  "Maybe it was two years. I don't remember."

  I twisted around to stare at Shandra. "But not six years. Didn't Dor'is say she smuggled this thing into her flour sack six years ago?"

  "Yes, I
think so." Shandra stood. She wandered toward the shelf of tins and began opening them. Then she touched the blanket covering the still. "Do you think she lied?"

  "She's lying about something." I couldn't think why she'd have reason to, but that tingly sensation at the back of my head hadn't gone away. I sat on the floor, trying to puzzle it out. "She must keep contact with someone outside the village, but if so, why lie about it?"

  "I've been wondering something, too." She yanked the blanket off the pipes and scowled, holding up a dried, puffy pellet the size of a lima bean. "If she's allergic to wine made of seeds, how can she drink anything made from them? And why doesn't she just program it into the Repli-Chef?"

  I stood up and brushed at my backside. "What are you saying?"

  "I don't know," said Shandra. "But look at this."

  I walked toward her to see what she was pointing at. Looked to me like a brown, oblong box with skinny snakes coming out of it. Speckled snakes that dove together into the ground. "What?"

  "Wires that go from that still into that battery, then into the ground." She touched a smooth panel on the wall. "And I'll bet this is a charge controller. And that . . ." She pointed toward a tiny patch of black material at the corner of the ceiling. ". . . is a solar plate."

  I shrugged helplessly. "You lost me."

  "What's a forgotten old woman in a shack in the outlands doing with photovoltaic equipment for brewing something that is not seed liquor?"

  I couldn't think of an explanation. "How do you know about photo-whatever stuff?"

  "I'm an Ecological Science Tech. Though it doesn't take a scientist to see where our earth is going." She held up a box of digital syringes. "What are these?"

  Those I recognized. "Dosage administrators. We used them at the orphanage for inoculations, antibiotics. Those look like a one-dose needle."

  She set the box down. "Are the eggs burning?"

  "I can replicook eggs without burning them!" I walked over and eyed the appliance again. "Besides, I haven't started them yet."

  "Well, something's burning. Can't you smell it?"

  I did smell it. Not like burned eggs, not even like smoke. More acrid. It stung the inside of my nose. "What is that?" I walked the room, sniffing and searching. At the fireplace, I found a fist-sized glass bulb leaking faint blue smog. "Some kind of firewood alternative?" I asked Shandra. But before she could answer, an explosion rocked the floor and knocked me flat. Heat billowed toward my face and chest, and I tried to roll over. My flesh stung all over like I was fighting off a swarm of bees.