Ofana

by Clay Moore

  “Giesling,” yelled people.

  Some young Gieslings were calling for her to lead a Revolution. Ofana raised her hand. “There is no need for a revolution. We will have one in the polls and without firing a single dart.”

  Then she got quiet. She whispered, “Quiet.” The crowd got hushed. Ofana leaned close to the audio pick up on the pulpit.

  “It is time for a change,” she said. Then she increased her volume “It is time for a change.” Each Time she said the phrase, the crowd yelled.

  “What do I mean by Time for a change? You are tired of Single party, dictatorial rule. Don’t get me wrong. What they did was needed, but we need them no more.”

  On that phrase, the crowd let out a howl. The Ofana had hit the truth.

  Ofana held up one of the strips of paper. “This says’ time for a change.’ Take one and then hand it to someone else. Tell them about me. I make my way to Giesling City for the celebration, the day before the election. Where we will have Victory for Giesling.”

  She had said her words she moved off the podium. Brian put her hand on his shoulder, and he waded into the crowd with his team. The crowd was pushing and shoving. Occasionally Brian used a slap to move the crowd a little further off. As soon as another speaker got on the podium, the crowd dissipated. Brian and his team returned back to the Pathways inn. They went to their rooms.

  Ofana was full of post-speech energy. The team broke up to their rooms early. In a room empty of other people Ofana removed her clothes. She carefully folded the white Caftan and put it into the storage bag with her turban. She stretched voluptuously, feeling all of her nudity.

  “Why is it that I only feel my body best when I am naked. Hey, which do you like best.”

  “Of what?”

  “My poses. Don’t look. I’ll tell you when to look.”

  “Okay, I’ll read my Slate.” Brian read his daily mail from the Eridani Secret Service. After four memos Ofana told him to look.

  Ofana was in the doorway to the bathroom. She had both hands on the door jam, and her butt was toward him. He could see the swell of her breast, but nothing more.

  “That’s a very chaste Dirty picture.”

  “Keep watching.

  She walked down the door jam one hand at a time. As she bent over more, Brian could see the jade gate.

  “That’s an Invitation,”

  “Come and get me, Big boy.”

  Which he did—repeatedly.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Straight Talk at Konrabi

  Brian woke up to a woman deep in his embrace. He was getting used to this feeling. Felicity did not enjoy the heat of his body. She wanted him there but on the other side of the bed. The times she wanted to be entangled with him was when she wanted it. There was a lot to say for Felicity, most of it good.

  To find a woman who was rubbing your thigh with herself was worth a lot. Sleeping with Felicity was like sleeping with a vampire. She barely moved. To sleep with Ofana was like sleeping with a sexual tornado. She always knew where you were. Brian was prepared to testify that she made love to him while she was asleep.

  Ofana must have satisfied herself because she sighed and stopped moving. After he knew that she would not need him in her dreams, he got up. This Breakfast he would eat. Hopefully, there would be no assassins bringing the meal.

  A polite knock at the door announced Breakfast. Brian took his pistol along with a silencer to answer the door. He activated the prudence lock. Brian opened the door and was satisfied. He deactivated the field and took the food trolley from him, the waiter. He brought the cart inside and lifted the silvered cover off the meal,

  Brian was preparing his meal when heard Ofana sniffing the air as if she were a predator.

  Is that Breakfast?" she said, stretching in bed? She opened her eyes.

  "It is breakfast," Brian said. She got up and realized that she had spent the whole night in bed. She made a Trip to the toilet.

  "You better leave me some bacon this time," Ofana said from inside the toilet.

  Brian made sure that there would be enough for him and for her.

  Ofana came out of the toilet. She clung to the wall and looked at Brian over her shoulder. This time she did not try to cover up anything. "I put on my best human skin. I've had this one since my birthday."

  "Wonderful skin it was."

  "Was?" Ofana grabbed a washcloth. Threw it at Brian.

  Brian laughed at the washcloth on his head. As did Ofana.

  "You know I never did ask for your status."

  "You talking ameurgen?"

  "Yes."

  Brian showed her the inside of his left forearm. She saw the red telltale and relaxed."

  "Such a sigh of relief."

  "I was told by the family doctor that I could not get a top up of the reservoir. I had to wait until it was empty." She showed him the underside of her arm. He saw no red there.

  "That's criminal."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Even the royal family is entitled to customized care. You want Ameurgen can be placed in the reservoir. They make it a month dose more significant than the size that was said to be implanted.

  "Never go on a mission without a safe cushion of ameurgen. You were denied care when asked for it. Get your lawyer on the case."

  "I use the family lawyer."

  "Get your own."

  "Why?"

  "Who do you think the family lawyer really works for?"

  "My Dad."

  "Get a separate lawyer and get your fortune moved as soon as possible."

  "You know about that?

  "Heard it from a newsflash. You bet your Dad knew about it the day after you moved the bulk of your fortune. I know some women lawyers that would love to take this on. I think you will like them, too."

  Brian wrote out some names and comm numbers and Hypercom numbers. He tore the page out of the notebook and handed to her.

  "Get dressed and do it now," said Brian, She stood up, and he gave her a playful slap on the rump. She put on her colorful caftan. Ofana brushed her hair. Then she called the first number on Brians's list.

  The Hypercom made the call to the lawyer. Then the trid image came on. "Welcome to Molly Ashcroft and associates."

  Brian got into camera view. Molly's raised eyebrows told Ofana that she knew Brian.

  "Molly, this is the Ofana."

  "I guessed that. Ofana's face is usually blasted on the celebrity newsflash sites. Now her face is supplied by the hard news sites talking to the Gieslings. What is it you would like me to do?"

  "Brian, could you tell her?"

  "She needs your voice issuing the orders. Ain't nothing a Bank can do when a customer issued an order by voice, especially to a lawyer."

  "We can do nasty things in your name. Is there anything else."

  "Yes, I want to own a house. I would like for it to have 5 bedrooms, two offices, a pool, good kitchen and places to gather."

  "I'll have to hire a real estate broker in your name. May I do that?"

  "Know a good one?"

  "I do, she is my life partner."

  "I'm sorry I made an assumption.

  "What, that Brian and I had been a thing?"

  "Yeah."

  "Everyone who's met Brian thinks he is a lady killer. I met him when he was being sued by a woman for alleged rape. The woman had described him to the jury. I asked, as Brian's own attorney, for him to take his pants off. He did, and there were whistles and sounds of surprise. The case was dismissed right there. I wanted to pursue her for perjury. Instead, Brian asked if he had to file perjury charges. The judge said no, she was then placed in custody."

  "Did he ask you for a date?"

  "No, I think he knew that something was different about me. He introduced me to Texas soon after that. About a year after he put on their grey suit, and I don't see him anymore."

  "I think that is classified," said Ofana.

  "Ofana, I am going to need your name. Ofana is really a titl
e and not a name."

  "Amelia Grace Stegitz."

  "As I need more information I'll send the forms to your Slate. On the first movement of your wealth, I'll deduct ten thousand crowns. If there is more you want me to do, then the retainer will be higher. Is that satisfactory?"

  "Yes."

  "The next time I call you, Amelia will be financially disentangled from her family." The holocom signal was cut as the lawyer left to do the Ofana's bidding."

  Ofana turned to Brian. "I see why you like her."

  "That point of business is now taken care of. It's off your mind. The problem I am having now is that we are moving in too regular a movement. I can look in a map and see what our next port of call is going to be."

  "I know. This is what I told the others I was going. I can't change that. Brian, I am putting a coalition together, and they're suspicious of each other. I am amazed at how long these huge egos have gotten along."

  "I felt like I had to say it."

  "I know that you do."

  "If shots are fired I will pick you up and get you out. I won't stop running until; you are in my ship."

  "No, you won't."

  "My first job is getting you home. My second is keeping you alive. There is nothing about making you a martyr in any missions, or letting you turn yourself into a martyr. I've had enough of that for a couple, lifetimes." Saying that brought up an old score that seemed lifetimes ago, Vendella's suicide.

  Ofana heard the pain that crept into his voice when he talked about turning herself into a martyr. It was evident that he had experience with a woman committing suicide. He could not help her there. He may even have provided the tools for her to commit suicide.

  Ofana had flirted with the idea of suicide. She did not want to let her father off the hook that easily. Death was not an option anymore. Her happiness in mentioning it had sent his mind into overdrive.

  "I'm sorry. I never thought that you might have had experience with this."

  "I've had. My suicide's name was Vendella. Her family came from the Foxhall fundamentalist sect here, on Giesling. She had been raped, and that is pretty much a death sentence. She could not go on. She got me to help her. I gave her the needle, and she jabbed it in her thigh."

  Ofana paled. "She killed herself."

  "I was just the tool or maybe the fool. Anyway, I watched Vendella die. When she was gone, I shot the body to put some more horror to the picture I was making."

  Brian whipped around and stared at Ofana. "I will not permit your martyrdom."

  "Okay, Brian, on that point, I will surrender, but we must go to my schedule. I know that makes me a sitting duck. You'll have to do the job you are doing."

  Brian suddenly knew why bodyguards everywhere roll their eyes when told they were guarding the Eldest daughter of the President or some other dignitary. "Do I have permission to bray in your face if we die because of this schedule?"

  Ofana could not help herself. "If we both die, okay."

  "Are we done with the breakfast trolley?"

  "Keep the fruit bowl. It's a good snack for the drive."

  Brian alerted the Team member to be ready in thirty minutes. When he turned around, he noticed Ofana adding her wrist holster and the pistol she had jammed into it. She threw her multi-colored caftan over her head.

  Brian finished his packing. He noticed the shortage of foodbase bars. He would have to take care of that. They got into the blue grav-car. He was on half a tank, so he needed Radamite.

  Like most human-colonized worlds the fuel for the Sunday drive was usually sold at a filling station. There had to be some on the way out of DeadSprings.

  Brian started up the car. He drove out of the fenced in Private parking lot. Brian was looking around, trying to catch something, not in the normal. What was not normal was getting out of DeadSprings during rush hour in less than thirty minutes. Brian stopped at the first fueling station. He filled up, and then he walked into the store portion. He came out with two bags full of Foodbase bars.

  He tossed a bag to his team. He kept one for the team in the front seats. Ofana noticed that the food bars in the sack were several different flavors. She smiled when she heard the team exclaim about the flavor choices.

  The Giesling life was somewhat monochromatic. The Gieslings could only afford foodbase, and that meant the standard flavor of vanilla. Clothing was gray. The miner was gray. His wife was gray from touching him a lot. His environment was gray from the dust being raised by the mining process. A good present for a Child was a small scrap of colorful fabric.

  Brian, unknowingly, selected the perfect color for his shipboard uniform, gray. A gray turtleneck, gray slacks, and a pair of boots that are ground and ship boots. The team, with one exception, wore shades of gray or brown. The one spy with them, Jasmine, wore a perfect black costume. Brian was no spy, sometimes he brought home information. Jasmine was expected to bring back information.

  What about herself? She had a mostly black caftan full of paisley ornaments of a variety of colors. The white was becoming primarily of what she thought of herself. White reflected the color of purity, but she thought of it as the empty page on a Slate before you write on it.

  "What can you tell me of this Konrabi we are going to meet?"

  "He is something like you, Brian."

  "Oh, great, that is wonderful."

  "He was a soldier of fortune, staked out a claim, and collected people. Konrabi is an oasis town. He is the town's Mayor, and the town takes his name from him, and he has an ego. That is the potential friction point between you and Konrabi. You, both, have an ego you could drive a Medium class freighter through."

  Brian chuckled. The team laughed as well.

  "Well, you got me pegged. I will try not to act so arrogantly in the future."

  "The main problem is that you are egotistical, but you can back it up. Konrabi is a little too old to do physical things. He has people who do his bidding. I guess you could say he is Mayor for life."

  "And he is letting you come in and talk to his people? You, who are advocating a new government. Either he is progressive, or this is a trap."

  "You're paranoid."

  "Yes, I know, but am I being paranoid enough."

  Ofana let that statement fly by her. The more she saw of him and his world, the more that she realized there can be no place for her in his world, and no place for him in her world. The only other thing they had was sex. No good relationship can be built on sex alone. Sex was a buttress for the relationship built on what both partners bring to the relationship.

  "We're obviously not going to be married."

  "I'm not ready to come in from the cold. You cannot give up the prestige and fame accorded you by your birth, not to mention the wealth you amassed. I tip my hat to you for that."

  "I started that as soon as I got it through my head that I was not going to inherit the Emirate. All the extravagant gifts he wanted to give me I asked for their cash equivalents. It meant doing without Aponte grav-cars, jewels, all the latest gewgaws and toys one can have in a technological society. My friends laughed at my retro look in my room."

  "I've seen pictures of the landing. The houses were clapboard, not plascrete. I've seen pictures of your room. You did not live in a clapboard house. The only thing retro was the lack of technology in the room. I think it started a rage in non-tech looking tech."

  "That was the Ofana look. Bad enough that I wasn't known commonly by my real name. I had an interior decorator look named after me."

  "That would be a bother. This wart on the road is Konrabi?"

  "I really don't have much of a feed on this person. Like I wasn't expecting that kind of welcome."

  They drove through the beginning of the town under a banner saying WELCOME OFANA.

  Brian stopped at the banner. “Just who is this guy again? Will he sell you out?”

  “I haven’t met this guy, Konrabi. The name was on the map. I followed the road, or rather, you did when you found us.”


  “It’s called target acquisition. Follow the trail of your target until you find Ofana. You talked too much in the early moments, and you tried to spread yourself out too thin.”

  Brian stood up to his full height, a trait he falls back on when making arguments. “Anton Hecton, who runs the third finest intelligence network, has probably been informed of your presence by now.”

  “Let’s meet this Konrabi and see if he is a Planetary Interests dupe.”

  “Okay,” Ofana, “I believe the big door is for uninvited guests.”

  The door guards came on the mark. Brian matched them. He did not like having anyone pointing anything mildly lethal at his charge. Suddenly they were in what could be called an Angus Stand-off. It felt good to have his team also pointing weapons, but no one was shaking weapons or moving provocatively. This had the feeling of someone in the middle, making both sides think the other was at fault.

  An old man walked out of the inner door. He wore what could be described as a wizard’s robes. He raised his right hand and said in a loud, amplified voice: “Let no man or woman fire the first shot.” Konrabi, for that, was the only person it could be, he showed everyone his hands all around the courtyard to his palace.

  After the pause to give everyone a chance to get a grip on their emotions, Konrabi led Ofana and her group into the palace proper. All of the guards returned to their posts and awaited guard mount, the relief. Konrabi moved quickly through the castle until they came through the presentation room. He waved away the guards saying he wishes to consult with his guests. He asked for refreshing wine to be served. Then he led everyone to his office. The team members sat in the chairs along the walls. Brian and Ofana took the seat across the vast expanse of polished granite.

  Konrabi took his right hand off. Underneath the ingenious mechanism was a thin, feminine hand. Konrabi was a woman underneath the devices she wore. She removed her left hand. Then with both hands, she released the complicated locks that held the device on her shoulders and hands. She lifted the head off of her shoulders and head. As she brought it down, the head continued to move.