Heroine of Zenina

by Giselle Marks

  Marina fetched a jug of water from the bathroom, pulled back the covers on her brother and poured it over his face. He spluttered and shook himself to avoid the torrent which ended abruptly with the emptying of the jug.

  “What do you want, Marina?” he said in her head as he brushed the water from his eyes.

  “Your attention is what I want. Big brother, sit up and listen. I’ve turned a blind eye long enough to what you are up to...”

  “I don’t know what you mean, sis...” Marina punched his shoulder hard.

  “Don’t interrupt. Mother and father both believe you dislike women. So does most of Zenina, but you and I know differently. I knew all along, but it’s being discovered by others. If your deception is to continue, you must be more discreet. I knew about most of your female friends, but Belabeza, that is a pretty mean trick. When Adelza finds out she’ll blame me for not telling her.”

  “If that is all Sis, it’s nice to see you, but I would rather go back to sleep.”

  “It is not all, Divak. I try to protect you, but there may come a time when I can’t help you. You’d be wise to remember it. I didn’t come to advise you only to be more discreet. Chilka did not tell me, she didn’t have to. Bona came with her yesterday to the Department with a pretty baby boy. It was easy to find who was squiring Ondiella about town. Ironic, as I’m supporting the pair of you. Anyway it doesn’t normally bother me whom you bed, Divak, male or female, but there are exceptions. Whilst I pay your bills, you will not act as a catamite to fat ugly Kurgians; especially not if Dalzina has anything to do with it. I don’t approve of you sleeping with the Kurgian Ambassador’s wife either, it is asking for trouble.”

  “How you can stand there and lecture me on the morality of whom I sleep with? Talk about people in glass houses, what’s it so far this week? A disgraced mercenary and a drug-peddling pirate, you are scraping the barrel, sister. Flogged the pirate too, I hear. You could’ve invited me to watch, I’d have enjoyed that.”

  “I’m not complaining about your morals, except for Belabeza, I am deploring your taste. To sink so low as the Kurgian Ambassador’s wife, she is as fat as a cow and uglier.”

  “But she is very grateful and generous. The ugly ones always are. Anyway Belabeza only pretends to protest. Once we’re in bed, it is slow down, Divak and harder Divak and can I have some more Divak?” this he said in falsetto which rather cruelly imitated Belabeza’s little girly voice.

  “I don’t understand you! You have everything you need. Your allowance is over generous. You don’t need to get paid for it.”

  “I don’t get paid for anything else, sister. You could give me a job. Father has his own laboratory, he’s allowed to work.”

  “And what would you do? I’ve paid for three sets of courses at University and you dropped out of all of them. What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know until I try, give me a job and see how I go.”

  “I’ll think about it, no promises. Knowing you, you probably won’t get out of bed on the first day.”

  “When do I start?”

  “I’ll see, be kind to Ondiella. She’s had a raw deal.”

  “You won’t tell her I’m your brother, will you?”

  “I doubt if I’ll see her, she’s taken against me.”

  “Are you going to do anything about that bastard Mikkal? I’d like to give him a good kicking!”

  “Careful, Divak that sounded terribly butch. As to what I’m going do with him, he’s coming to lunch with me today, but I don’t think that is what you meant is it? I’ll probably have to, but at least he is not ugly. I must be off... Be good or at least do not disgrace me with ugly people.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being ugly...” retorted Divak but she was gone before he got the words out.

  Chapter Twenty-Four – Reassurance

  Charles was out of bed at the crack of dawn, leaving Belabeza and Adelza fast asleep at either side of the bed holding hands across the middle where he had slept. He was tired having slept little, but at least his mind had not dwelt all night on whether Marina would get rid of him. He drove at top speed and parked the hover-car outside the house and walked around the buildings to his quarters. He had time to shower and change before waking the Colonel and breakfasting with him. There was a faint spicy smell which was instantly recognisable. He shut the door behind him. Marina had been here.

  Why? She knew I wouldn’t be back until first thing.

  Nothing was moved or out of place in his sitting room. He looked into his study; everything was as he left it. He opened the door to his kitchen and a mixture of aromas assailed his nose. Breakfast was being cooked. Marina must still be here. He strolled to the bedroom, undressing as he went.

  He opened the door. Marina reclined upon the bed, although not everyone would recognise her. Her golden skin was a delicate shade of palest peach. Her midnight locks were now honey-yellow and her dark eyes were a brilliant turquoise blue. She was dressed in vaguely Zigan fashion. Not that any decent Zigan woman would wear a gown quite as revealing as the one she wore. It was white and reached halfway between her hips and knees. It had a full skirt of several diaphanous petticoats but the bodice was made of spider’s web lace. Through the lace her breasts were clearly visible and on her feet were scarlet sandals with the highest thinnest heels possible.

  She looked all of fourteen, all legs and wide eyes but knowing.

  “Good morning Miss,” he said with a smile in his voice.

  “Welcome home Sir,” she replied “Is there anything I can do for you.”

  He sat down beside her with his legs stretched out on the bed.

  “Come here now,” he said. She moved closer.

  “Have you been a good girl, while I was away?”

  “I’m always good” she said bending over him.

  “Did you enjoy the farm? How did you leave Adelza and Belabeza?” she asked in his mind.

  “Asleep and exhausted.”

  “Were they as good as your fantasy? You’ve wanted to have them both for a very long time.”

  “They were much better than my fantasy, but not nearly as good as you. If you don’t stop that I won’t be able to hold back much longer.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Cruel woman, do your worst!”

  The frothy white gown did not survive the encounter but somehow breakfast was not ruined. By the time Charles was showered and dressed, Colonel Bromarsh was waiting for him in the entrance hall having breakfasted alone. Marina came in soon after and said she’d drive with them to Headquarters. Vlama was there to welcome Bromarsh and Charles. She waved goodbye to Marina who drove off to check on Vellina.

  Chapter Twenty-Five - Ga’Mishrin’s Visit

  Nothing annoyed King Ga’Mishrin who was determinedly in his sunniest mood. The meal was good, the serfs were obsequious and his host obliging. He had eaten less than usual but what he’d had was excellent. With Prince Ga’Mazadeh acting as his food taster Ga’Mishrin was dawdling to the end of his meal. He had noticed a dish of candied miniature mandarins with the middles scooped out and replaced with an almond sweet-meat. He thought he would sample a few of those.

  Princess Ga’Mazadeh had eaten little and the dish had been placed close to her, so she picked up one of the fruits and was nibbling delicately at it. She had forgotten to wait for her King to be offered the dish, but was not reprimanded

  Suddenly her hand fell from her mouth and crashed to the table. For a few fleeting seconds she gripped the table before collapsing forward into a bowl of pureed berries. Her body convulsed briefly but she did not rise again.

  Ga’Mazadeh rushed to his wife but there was no life left in her. Calling for her doctors in vain he tried to revive her. The doctors came but were too late even to save the child within her. One of the candied mandarins was fed to a fortress mongrel who promptly imitated his former mistress’s actions. In the kitchens the cook was sought as was the server of that dish. The former was hauled in t
rembling, but was swiftly released because the server had been found, head down in one of the latrines. He too was dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Six - Two Escapes

  Marina found Vellina in good spirits and getting stronger. She judged she was past the really dangerous stage of recovery so delegated some doctors to watch over her, for the next week to ensure she did not overtire herself. The test results on the patient over whose diagnosis they had disagreed supported Marina’s preference. Vellina acknowledged the hit and altered the treatment accordingly. Marina mentioned to Vellina that Riyal might be coming for colour change assessment soon; then drove home.

  Marina had ordered lunch served upstairs in her private sitting room. So when she got home she bathed and tried to decide what to wear. This took longer than usual but not because she cared what she would look best in. Marina was not sure of Ga’Mikkal’s preferences in how a woman should dress or if she should pander to them. She considered Kurgian female dress of many layers singularly impractical, but it might delay an oversexed Kurgian until you decided whether to encourage him or not.

  “I can’t back down now as I led him to expect an affirmative answer, even if I’ve changed my mind. He’s handsome enough not to offend my sense of aesthetics and adept enough to turn me on. But he is basically such a nasty piece of work I’m wary of any involvement with him.”

  In the end she decided to wear a wrap-around skirt of cream silk with the hem and diagonal overlap edged in a peach-coloured frill of lacy scalloped shell shapes. She re-braided her hair into a floor sweeping plait as if going into battle. Marina would receive him as a Zeninan woman who would not be intimidated.

  Ga’Mikkal was exactly punctual. He arrived bearing gifts. The bouquet was accepted graciously and three choice blooms were extracted from it and arranged by Marina with a leafy twig to replace the centre piece on the table that had already been laid. Marina opened the other gift, a jewellery box which contained a rather artistically designed diamond and opal necklace. Although Marina chose not to wear much jewellery, it was of a quality that interested her. It was not in a Kurgian style.

  “The necklace is beautiful, but I cannot accept it. Zeninans in public office can’t accept lavish presents from foreign nationals.”

  Marina was at her most royal. She led him to her private sitting room attended by two liveried servants who never left the room. Marina and Mikkal were seated on low wide stools by a low table where the meal was served Kurgian style. The servants were replenishing their plates and glasses every few minutes. Mikkal was served a vintage strong red wine and he quaffed the ever-refilling glass nervously and frequently. The meal was excellent, but he picked at his food, wondering when Marina’s servants would leave them alone. Marina’s instructions had been to serve the meal and not to leave until the last covers were cleared away.

  Marina usually preferred servants not to be too obvious or servile, but when she gave her orders she surprised herself by requesting permanent attendance. The servants who thought her too informal for her rank were very happy to oblige. Marina admitted to herself she was postponing Ga’Mikkal’s advances but failed to understand why she could work up so little enthusiasm about bedding him. Finally the meal came to an end and Marina dismissed the servants. She thought to herself it was a situation in which a diplomatic illness would be convenient. Unfortunately a sick Zeninan would not be believed.

  If luck was on her side, there would be an emergency she was needed to deal with right now. She checked the hospital, Vellina was fine and there were no new problems which required her special skills. Her offices were running smoothly and Vlama reported no difficulties. Even the Palace was quiet.

  Inviting the prince to accompany her, she led him to her bedroom, sitting upon the bed. Ga’Mikkal embraced her and she untied her skirt letting it drop to the floor leaving her naked. His eager hands and mouth covered her body, reminding her of an octopus. As his hands and tongue moved between her legs, she lifted them slightly to allow him easier access. He had not undressed but the folds of his tunic were pushed out of place by his erection.

  Her body treacherously enjoyed his ministrations, but her mind was not an active participant. Raising him up she started to undress him, taking her time, gently nibbling at his neck whilst she stripped him. His body was every bit as perfect as she expected. He was almost devoid of body hair which was normal close to colour change, it would never re-grow. He had noticed the loss of body hair and that he needed to shave less frequently, but had not connected it with colour-change. He was not aware his nationality would soon be doubled. He knew six months in Zenina would make him Zeninan but he had never visited before. He believed he was safe for five months.

  No-one informed him that his preference for Zeninan women alone could bring about colour-change and regular sex with Gold women would speed it considerably. Marina always minimised damage to her non-Zeninan partners by emanating a sub-dermal force shield to reduce transmission of the Zeninan factor. Zadina deliberately had not done so, once he changed colour, the treaty concerning Kurgian nationals was invalidated. He did not have full diplomatic status; he would have no legal protection from enslavement by her or any other woman.

  Marina sat up and stopped stimulating his body.

  “What will you do after colour change?” she enquired.

  “I had not thought about it, I don’t suppose I’ll be on Zenina that long.”

  “You’d be foolish to leave before you change. The risk if you change without Zeninan assistance could be very great.”

  “But I’ve got nearly five months to go.”

  “You will be lucky if you last five days, when did you last shave?”

  “Two days ago, I think. I’ve not needed to shave much since I arrived here. Is it important?”

  “Zeninan men have no body or facial hair. The facial hair growth slows close to change and the body hair thins and lightens. Colour change can be brought about by regular physical contact with a Zeninan. The higher the colours of the Zeninans, the faster the time before change.”

  “So I’ll change soon. Do you know what colour I’ll be? It would be pretty appalling if I only made Ruby.”

  “You’d have already changed colour, if you were going to be Ruby. Get a full assessment from the brain hospital, but you’ll not be lower than Silver, possibly Ebony or just scrape into Gold, the higher the colour the more danger to you during change.”

  “I’d like to be Gold, whatever the risks. Is there a great range in Golds? You said just scrape in. Does that imply you’d still be higher than me?”

  “Quite a bit, I expect. Vellina is the only living Gold higher than me. My father is only two points behind me. We don’t advertise the fact but Kabaneev just out points Kerina. Both Divak and Plavina are within ten points of Kerina.”

  “Is Zadina a high Gold too?”

  “Fairly high.”

  “As high as Plavina?”

  “About the same, she’s my aunt, remember.”

  “Where does Dalzina score?

  “Ten points or so lower.”

  “And Kapalina?”

  “Level with Plavina. If you want the exact levels of all living Golds, ask Vellina for the statistics. She’ll show you our score cards if you ask nicely. There is a wide range from Vellina right down to Irzina, who was registered at birth as Silver, but changed to Gold at ten days old.”

  “That’s pretty unusual is it?”

  “Irzina is the only one alive I know of, she is in the Silver Gold overlap band and only just made Gold. Most children stay the colour they are born, but some Ebonies are born Silver and change later. In Irzina’s case they had to change her name. She was originally named Irzenla. Occasionally people call her by her birth name and she gets very upset about it.”

  “Why do Golds have the same ending to their name?”

  “There’s actually a law that makes it illegal for any other colour to be named with a Gold name. Platinum’s have a similar system but there are less of them s
o people don’t notice. If I were Platinum I would be called Marengia. I prefer Marina.”

  “Why didn’t Vellina become Queen?”

  “She’s a pacifist, she cuts her hair, you can’t force a fight on anyone with shorter hair than waist-length hair or accept a challenge from someone with shorn hair either.”

  “Strange rule.”

  “Practical. If you beat someone and cut their hair, you’ve got six months to a year’s grace before they can challenge you again. Many doctors and scientists cut their hair and opt out of fighting.”

  “You beat Zadina recently. Your hair is very long.”

  “The fight was stopped, I can’t claim victory. I haven’t been beaten since I was fifteen. I considered cutting it to become a doctor full time, but I was not allowed.”

  “How can they stop you doing what you want?”

  “Fairly easily, I was ordered to swear fealty to my mother when I was fifteen. When I declared my intention to renounce any claim to the throne and cut my hair. My mother made me her Official Champion. I could not disobey because I’d be foresworn. I can’t cut my hair, but I singe the ends because if it gets much longer it is terribly heavy.”

  “Let’s talk later,” he said kissing her but she seemed distracted. “Is there something the matter?” Ga’Mikkal asked.

  “I’m afraid so, the Department just called me; they’ve got a problem they want me back in the office at once.”

  She was out of the bed and dressing.

  “What about us?”

  “I’m sorry but we’ll have to wait. There’s a flap on, I’ll call you after the Games. I’ve delayed going to the country to train to see you and I must get into condition. I’ll see you afterwards, you might be Gold too, by then.”

  Her mouth said the words as she thought, “I hope not. It will be harder lying to you when you’re fully telepathic.”