The dancing was not a style Charles had ever appreciated, consisting as it did of two circles of eight, one of girls and one of men. Their costumes were much the same as normal Zigan dress if more clumsily fitted with gold trimmings added to both sexes’ costumes and the men wore daft hats with tall red feathers.
The main features of the dance were both circles walked round in opposite directions concentrically, for seven steps. Then they turned and walked four steps back before walking another seven steps the other way again. When they had repeated this three times they broke formation and the men walked around the nearest girl, stepped back into line, bowed and rejoined their comrades. There were a few variations but it was easy to learn and very boring, but at least you ended up facing a different girl each time.
After the local troop had performed, the youngsters were invited to learn the dance. Charles sat talking with some old friends until a group of girls pounced on him dragging him to the floor, to make up the numbers they said. He laughed to his friends.
“I’m on holiday I didn’t expect Zigan women would be pulling me about here,” he laughed to his friends.
His friends looked on enviously because each time the dance stopped the eight pretty girls were whispering something in his ear. When he returned to the men, they asked him what the girls were saying to him.
“The girls told me their names and fourteen digit numbers.”
His friends tried to explain what they were telling him.
“I have no problem remembering eight sets of numbers, but I don’t intend to call them up.”
“Why the girls were beautiful, aren’t you flattered?”
“They’re all virgins, the oldest is only eighteen. In Zenina I’d be considered a pervert to serve them, unless the girl requested my mistress for me to do the unpleasant job of breaking her in. Most slaves consider it an unrewarding chore to be avoided at all costs. I’ve accepted floggings for refusing to oblige. Let the Zigan boys break them in, I prefer my women to know what they want from a man.”
At that point one of the Embassy girls turned up wearing a flimsy brief evening gown of Bellatrese lace with nothing under it. She deposited herself in his lap.
“How much longer are you going to be?” she asked aloud plaintively.
“Not much longer, I’ll make my farewells,” Charles replied.
He swiftly made his adieus to the happy couple, kissing his mother with the Embassy girl hanging possessively on his arm to speed his exit.
Not long after the wedding Prevela advised him of Zadina’s accession and handed him a sack of mail mostly from ladies who had seen the Zeninan Games’ vids of his performance with Nerova and heard a rumour he was in Ziga. There were also several offers from movie executives for repeat performances and interviews for the local vid stations all of which he ignored.
“I’ve sworn allegiance albeit at a distance to Zadina, it will be safer if you did not visit the Embassy for the time being. I’ve no objection to you making dates with my girls off the premises,” Prevela advised him.
So that is what he did when he had not got a date already with a local girl. None of the elegant ladies who filled his bed made him wish to remain in Ziga. His mother tried her last ploy to persuade him to stay.
“I’ll miss you when you return to Zenina,” but Charles knew there would be no return to retire in Ziga. He would live his life out in Zenina watching Marina reign.
“If you want to see me you could visit me in Zenina. Although there’s much in Zeninan Society you’ll disapprove of. But you couldn’t stay with me.”
Charles couldn’t see Marina, or any other woman, approving of his mother getting in her way.
“You could take an apartment there or stay for a visit in a hotel. Money is not a problem, I can support you. I have sufficient savings for you to live well in Zenina. There are risks, you might not survive colour change, but it is nice and hot and you could see me, perhaps twice a week. Think about it after I leave but don’t come until I send for you, it won’t be safe for some time.”
Mrs Zablonsky knew nothing about Zeninan politics. All she knew was her son was owned by some heartless harpy by the name of Princess Marina and that the self-same princess had determinedly rubbed her nose in it for her own rudeness, by charmingly giving the young couple everything they ever needed to live well. Even if they found themselves sick or out of work, they could sell the house, buy a smaller one in a cheaper district and have enough money over to keep them for the rest of their lives.
The politeness of Marina’s correctly worded letters and the generosity of the present and trusting Charles to come, cut into Mrs Zablonsky. Marina had by being absolutely charming made her feel small, petty and very unjust.
“I miss Marina, I love her so much, but I’m worried about her. I fear there’ll be a war in Zenina, a war I hope Marina will win, the peace of the universe depends on it.”
She listened beginning to believe in the people and problems of Zenina, somehow it no longer seemed so far away or unreal.
“If there is a war and Marina loses, she’ll die. Marina won’t live with disgrace. If Marina wins the war, she’ll be queen and need an heir. Then Marina will choose a mate and I’ll cease to be her slave. I’ll find it hard to bear when she falls in love and has children; all I will be able to do is watch her joy. I’ll be bereft. Marina is my reason to live, to think, to exist. Without her, I am nothing.”
“Here I sit in Ziga, just waiting for her to call me and I will jump and be joyful to return to her. I pass the time in Ziga as a man in prison, I wait for my release. Except Ziga is not my prison. I am my prison and Marina is my turn key, she holds the key to my happiness.”
Mrs Zablonsky wept for her son’s impossible love for a woman she had tried so hard to hate.
“When I wrote to you from Zenina, I only did so, on Marina’s orders. She insisted my mother had the right to know I was still alive and where I was. Marina only bought me after asking me if I wished to belong to her. She would give me my freedom if I wanted it at any time, or sell me to a new owner of my choice.”
Her image of a cruel woman, who subjected her son to all sorts of indignities was shattered, at least until her neighbours began to enquire whether it had really been her son who won the Zeninan Sexual Gymnastics.
“Yes,” he admitted it.
“Is that pretty little thing, your owner?”
“Nerova, no she’s just a friend of Marina. Her partner was temporarily injured in a fight so I was asked to step in at the last minute.”
“Asked? You weren’t ordered to perform?”
“No, Princess Marina gave me the choice, but it would have been awkward for Zenina if an unchanged couple had won.”
Mrs Zablonsky was appalled that her neighbours would watch a recording of such an event and her son could sit and straight-facedly admit he willingly took part without even a blush. Charles did not bother explaining that when he blushed his cheeks would not get pinker, because his blood was blue not red. The colour she saw was just surface colour not an indication of the blood that flowed through him.
The horrified matron determined she would watch this epic, a vid must be produced. The neighbours duly obliged. This time Charles squirmed. He was not embarrassed about his mother watching him performing, but because now he could see all the mistakes he had made and agreed with Marina on her assessment. If he was ever that bad in bed with her, he deserved to be flogged.
Mrs Zablonsky sat stoically through the vid and afterwards turned to Charles.
“Well, now I know what she sees in you. It’s a shame that Zigan men don’t treat Zigan women that well. Why do Zigan men have to go away to learn how to please women?”
“It is hard to know what a woman really wants, if you can’t read her thoughts. When women have to tell their men exactly what they need, it spoils the illusion good sex depends upon. Only after colour change can you begin to learn how to give true pleasure. Until then all a man does is please himself;
even the most considerate lover only tries to please women to feel he is good in bed. I think few men are good lovers without Zeninan training.”
At least his mother had no illusions about how he earned his living. She now understood he wanted to stay with Marina for the rest of his days. Her children were married and settled, she’d dandled her first batch of grandchildren; her husband was dead. Mrs Zablonsky thought Charles might actually need her when he returned to Zenina. If he sent word for her to visit she would go. She might even stay. What was the point of making old bones in Ziga, she would only become dependent on her children’s good offices.
If she died in Zenina, Charles and the others would mourn her but it would be over. If she survived colour change she would continue in good health and she would find something to do. If only she had her youth again, Zenina might be a rather fun place to live. Charles could have told her that apart from the greying of her hair and a few wrinkles she looked little older than her children. She was naturally slim, her posture upright and she exercised regularly. Charles thought she should wear more flattering clothes rather the more matronly ones of an older generation.
“I’d have no problem persuading my Zeninan friends to entertain my mother,” he thought wickedly. “I’d like to have her with me, but that’s being selfish. I love my mum, but I don’t want to be tied to her apron strings.”
He had received Marina’s message via Spiganeev, so when he was offered passage on board a Zeninan ship bound for home even though he was tempted to go home, he declined.
When they finished talking he had concisely explained the political situation in Zenina and his mother asked him why he had been studying Zigan military texts.
“Are you intending to fight on a planet where women rule?”
So he told her about the movement to abolish male slavery and his own part in it. He also explained what Queen Kerina had promised in return for his success in the sexual gymnastics. Mrs Zablonsky was proud of her eldest son.
“I’d fight to make Marina queen, but I don’t think I’ll be much use.”
Mrs Zablonsky looked at Zenina from the outside. “The only way slaves will achieve abolition will be if your princess becomes queen,” she said.
Charles agreed.
“Then the slaves should fight for her. You should lead the slaves.”
“What good would that be? We are trained to make love not war.”
“Even on planets where men rule, there are always women in the background helping them. There are more ways to fight than to wave a spear or point a blaster.”
Charles laughed but it gave him something new to think about. He had always thought his mother far more intelligent than his father. She always saw the root of any problem. He had more of an eye for detail. Somewhere he remembered reading a good general should have a grand overview of the battle and a meticulous eye for detail. He should know his troops’ capabilities and study the ground for the battle. Charles began to think he could learn to be a general after all, if he worked very hard at it.
So from then on he spent a portion of his time in the library, not only reading books on war and military matters, but studying psychology and salesmanship, logic, business organization, crowd theory and a number of other subjects which might help him look at a problem differently. He wrote notes, copious notes which he never reread. When Nerova knocked on his mother’s door, Charles had a plan or an inkling of the kind of action he could undertake.
Mrs Zablonsky recognised Nerova at once, despite the colour change. She thought she looked better without her clothes, although the blonde hair looked well on her. Charles came down from upstairs, dressed in an emerald silk dressing gown. He’d had a late night at one of his Zeninan friends and she had invited a couple of other friends. He was late rising as a result.
“Has Marina asked you to come for me?” he enquired hopefully.
“No,” she said, “Chilka sent me. Ga’Mishrin’s had Marina kidnapped. Chilka, Riyal and Ivla have gone off after her to rescue her in Kochab.”
“What am I to do then?” he asked.
“Return with me to Alpha and await further developments, I gather. I don’t think there’s any rush. I’ve been in space for nearly three months with only a few days here and there for a break. Do you think you could introduce me to some of the young men in Ziga City for a few days?”
“I think you’ll have no trouble getting plenty of invites without my help, the Sexual Gymnastics have been shown here and I’m a minor celebrity. Mum, have you made lunch?”
“No, I didn’t know when you’d get up today. You weren’t in until long after dawn, son.”
“In which case, I’ll take two of the prettiest ladies in Ziga out to lunch. Go and get changed. You’ve got ten minutes.”
“No woman can get ready in ten minutes, Charles,” complained Nerova, “You can’t expect your mother to be ready so quickly.”
“I don’t see why not, Marina rarely takes longer. You’ll have to change too, Nerova. Decent restaurants won’t let women in wearing trousers.”
“I’ve booked in at the Excelleev Hotel, I’ll go and change.”
“We’ll pick you up in half an hour’s time.”
Charles was right in his assumption that Nerova would have plenty of invites. Half the young men in town wanted to be introduced. Admittedly Charles had insisted on a table in the window and his choice of restaurant was decided on position in town not on its food. Charles did not offer his services. Nerova and her crew would have plenty of time to sample them on the return trip to Alpha.
Chapter Sixty - Life under Zadina
In Zenina Father Debenden played chess with Vlama and lost for the hundredth time. Father O’Flaherty was trying to teach him to beat Vlama as he could occasionally do himself. Father O’Flaherty was worried it would not be long before Father Debenden reached colour change and asked Letinza for Vellina to visit. Jessina came regularly and told of her life with Zadina.
Orina and the twins and Kazimira also visited, but Vlama was unsettled. She yearned to be active and worried about Kabaneev and Marina. Father O’Flaherty now spent large parts of the day praying for Marina’s return and success. Father Debenden joined him in his prayers but tired quicker. Colonel Letinza made sure they had been treated with the utmost respect and obviously did not enjoy her job of gaoler.
Baraneev had been sold by Zadina; he simply was not her personal taste although she knew he had been well trained. He was bought by Blazena who had returned from voluntary exile now Zadina was queen. Barzad had turned out fairly well after his enforced diet and had passed colour change becoming Blue. Marina’s decision had been to sell him at open auction with the statement he was a brawler as warning to prospective buyers.
His purchase price was put towards the damages to the bar he and his friends had wrecked in the fight with Zeninan slaves. Perlza bought him so he was now enjoying a healthy life on her main farm. Konsky took the risky step of writing to Queen Zadina asking to visit his children. She sent an escort of militia to bring him back to town and he now lodged in the slave quarters at the Golden Palace.
He missed Kotenza and his longing for her was complicated as she was pregnant by him. He hoped Marina would have the planet settled before Kotenza gave birth because he hoped to attend.
Divak remained in the palace and apart from occasionally sharing Letinza or Lahoda’s bed for his own needs, was not much inconvenienced by other women’s demands. Opak was growing well, making sounds that were similar if not quite the same as words. His thoughts were clearer and his nurses had anchored his cot to the floor and covered it with net to prevent his flying. This was a common problem with young Golds who found the flying experience pleasing. The nursery was already padded, floor, ceiling, walls and door, because levitation was dangerous for young children as when they lost concentration they plummeted.
Divak regretted Ondiella could not see her son growing up, but he was remembering every detail and recording mind tapes of Opak to
show her on her return.
Zadina was enjoying being queen. She put some of her ideas into practice. She organised the Militia into four battalions under her acolytes, Candiza, Quezada, Yanka and Nelenza. Yanka was Blue and the others were Silver, but none of them had succeeded in the army or navy. They had the ability, but not the desire to put in the necessary effort. Vlama sneered when she heard of their appointments that they were a load of second-rankers.
Kabaneev still suffered Zadina’s assaults and found it easier if he thought of something else, completely ignoring Zadina. She was not pregnant and kept Ga’Mikkal by her side and in her bed. Her rapes of Kabaneev did not satisfy her and Mikkal could. To make sure of the Purple Daggers, she seduced Colonel Ga’Angbad too. He was lost in Zadina’s spell, if she told him to walk through fire; he would have felt honoured to do so for her. Mikkal watched his bewitchment with amusement; he felt no jealousy, Marina had beaten that stupidity out of him. He felt only contempt for the poor fool. Now he was an equal partner and it was mostly his plans Zadina would carry out. When she had made certain of Zenina, they could take on Kurgia and the Markabans.
The only thing he and Zadina disagreed on was Kabaneev. “If Zadina wants an heir, I’ll give her one. I’m fertile and will remain so. It’s crazy for her to believe she’ll only conceive with Kabaneev.”Mikkal was annoyed by the idea and went out of his way to make sure if she carried any man’s seed it would be his, so after each of Kabaneev’s rapes he served Zadina himself.
Mikkal knew nothing of genetics but he had managed his estates in Kochab. He knew if a cow was served by a young bull and an old bull, she was more likely to hold to the young bull. There were exceptions but Mikkal found the concept of Zadina carrying Kabaneev’s child offensive.
Belabeza and Adelza returned to their apartment in Hemithea and were now swelling. They were content and stayed out of political matters. Adelza could still see nothing but did not seem diminished. She had begun to do things without Belabeza. She went to shop alone, finding her way around town without assistance.
Champion of Zenina Page 24