"What do you think Fictionvision is?" Robin asked.
"Let's find out," Alicia said and touched that word on the directory. That list of options was replaced by only two words: Comedy and Drama.
Lee chose comedy and a list of alphabetical titles and running times began slowly scrolling along the tabletop. "Your turn, Tarla. You pick one."
Tarla squinted at the flow of printed words. Finally she just closed her eyes and lowered her finger to the table.
They all leaned forward to see her selection.
"Mother Knows Best?" Robin read with a laugh. "This should be ripe."
Before anyone else could comment, the title appeared in script on the blank wall in front of where they were seated.
"Lights out, please," Lee requested to the ceiling, then grinned when her order was obeyed.
Without the lights, Tarla could see that the images were three-dimensional and completely surrounded them. It looked as though they were sitting in the living room of the show.
Despite the bits of information Nadia had given them about her society, the program still came as a bit of a surprise. The comedy aspect seemed to be at the expense of the bumbling houseman who meant well but managed to screw everything up so badly that only the wise, long-suffering heroine could straighten it all out when she came home from work.
"Do you think this is really how they live here?" Robin asked.
Tarla drummed her fingers on the table and accidentally shut off the program. "Lights," she directed. "I think we'd have to consider it based in fact, but fictionalized and exaggerated to be entertaining."
"That show was more pathetic than entertaining," Lee said with a grimace.
"To us, maybe," Tarla said. "But their culture obviously differs from ours. I don't know if Iris did it on purpose or not, but she's handed us a way to get some insight about their society. A little while ago, we were dealing blind. With this, we might be able to learn enough about our opponents to get everything we need to know." She was satisfied to see the nods of agreement from the others. "As of this moment, ladies, school is in session. Let's begin with the news of the day."
Nadia had said Heart was peaceful and the news seemed to back that up. It contained primarily positive rather than negative news. There were no reports from war zones or famine-stricken countries, no homicides or hijackings, no arrests of drug lords or deaths of innocent bystanders because of a shoot-out in a park.
What was in abundance was statistics—how many tons of corn had been produced at how much profit for such-and-such corporation, percentage comparisons of utility usages on this date over the past twenty years to reflect an improvement of efficiency level, numbers of patients admitted to sanatoriums and for what diseases. Minute details of progress made on a health research study of some microscopic bacteria was the lead story of the day.
In the field of science, there was evidence that FTL/faster-than-light travel had been developed in a certain distant galaxy by beings known as Faxons.
In sports, the Pajanese team was leading the Blue League in the free-style dance competition and Litay was the forerunner of the Red League. It looked like the finals were shaping up to be the most exciting in ten decades of tournament dancing.
The closing story of the day was apparently meant to be a big shocker. A woman confessed to having taught her son to read. She was sentenced to six months of extreme ostracism, during which time the child would be placed in a foster home where he would undergo a series of memory depletion sessions.
Robin was the first to speak, "Talk about a matriarchal culture!"
"Did you notice, there wasn't a single man involved in that whole broadcast?" Alicia added.
"Obviously," Tarla said, "Nadia was telling some truths. This is definitely a female-dominant society. We should be able to use that to our advantage."
Lee stood up and went to the kitchenette. "However, other than the fact that men aren't equals, these women seem to have a pretty solid and peaceful handle on things. I'm going to try one of these meals," she said pulling a tray out of the cooler. "Anybody else want anything?"
They all decided to have something to eat and drink then returned to the entertainment center. Tarla was disappointed that there were no educational offerings for them to study the history of the planet. She would have liked to have known how it could be so much like Earth yet evolved so differently.
"Let's try a drama next," she suggested.
Simply by watching a few programs, they were able to draw some conclusions about life on Heart.
In every instance, regardless of the story line, men were scarcely seen. And when they were portrayed, they were always servants, meekly carrying out the orders of a female. Women ran the government and businesses, constructed buildings and traveled to other planets. Robotic technology took care of any job that might require excessive strength or dirtying one's hands. Men cooked, cleaned, did laundry, took care of the children, and generally did as they were told. On the other hand, despite their political, economic and social power, the women of Heart highly valued their feminine gentility.
A vision popped into Tarla's head of Logan wearing an apron, holding a baby on one hip, while stirring the contents of a pot on a stove. She couldn't quite hold the image though. It was too ludicrous to contemplate. There probably wasn't enough of that strange drug on all of Heart to totally domesticate a man like Logan.
"I can't figure out the politics," Lee said after they'd all seen enough. "It sounds like capitalism, socialism, democracy and imperialism all got blended into one system. But if the whole planet is at peace, it must work."
Alicia hugged her knees to her chest. "These women obviously respect power. Not brute force, but the mental kind. I think they probably do a lot of bargaining and scheming behind the scenes. I'd say power and politics are what keeps their world turning."
"And production," added Tarla. "There seems to be a lot of importance placed on progress, productivity and efficiency."
"You know," Robin said. "It all makes sense if you consider the one thing that was missing from all those programs—male-female relationships. There wasn't even a hint of friendship, let alone love or lust. These women have turned their men into eunuchs who are happy to take care of all the aggravating, time-consuming tasks that have kept the majority of our women too tired or busy to compete in the political, business or scientific arenas for centuries. Hell, we might have had a woman president a hundred years ago, if no one ever fell in love and put being a wife and mother before her career."
"It sounds reasonable on the surface," Alicia said, with a thoughtful frown. "But knowing what it feels like to fall in love or be held in a man's arms, I don't think many women would be willing to give up the physical companionship for a more efficient world."
"Which brings us to our hostage," Tarla stated. "I think we can assume that she wasn't supposed to trespass onto the farm, and from the shocked expressions on Parisia's and Iris's faces, I'd say if she was conducting an experiment, it was strictly personal."
Robin made a face. "It sounds like our bargaining ticket isn't worth a ride on a merry-go-round. They'd probably just as soon leave her on the farm rather than let her infect the rest of their society with her unusual interest in men."
"I'm afraid you're right," Tarla said. "Maybe that's why the Domestic Affairs Advisor brought us here, to figure out on our own how weak our bargaining chip was. If we want our freedom, we're going to have to come up with something to offer them that they need but don't already have. The problem is, I have no idea what that could be."
Chapter 12
Brianne knocked lightly on Parisia's bedroom door. "Mother? It's four o'clock. Parliament will be convening in two hours. Are you awake?"
"Yes, dear," Parisia replied. "Come in."
Brianne entered, expecting to see her mother resting on her bed but instead, found her sitting at the window.
"I have such a lovely view of the city from this tower. Sometimes I get too busy to a
ppreciate it."
Brianne heard the unusual note of melancholy. Taking a seat, Brianne touched her mother's hand. "Are you feeling all right? Did you get any sleep?"
Parisia blinked at her as though she only now realized she had company. Giving her daughter a soft smile, she said, "I'm well. And I may have gotten something better than sleep—an idea."
"Oh? For which problem?"
That made Parisia laugh. "It might be a way of solving two at once. Or create an even bigger one. I'm afraid I was sitting here brooding about how much I would miss the little extras I've come to take for granted if I was no longer Prefect."
"That's a particularly odd thing to say considering the fact that your greatest opponent will probably never have the chance to hinder you again."
Parisia shifted toward Brianne. "You heard something?"
Brianne shook her head. "Nothing worth waking you for. Nadia's houseman confirmed that she has been missing since sometime last night. She has also been paged throughout the imperial city, and no one has seen or heard from her. Iris is satisfied that the Earth woman has told the truth. They have captured Nadia. Who else would have had the nerve to give your name as hers and hers as the Imperial Prefect?"
"If we could prove what they said she did with that Earth man, I don't think anyone would find fault with me for leaving her in the commune. Has the technician had any luck with the recording made by the sky monitor?"
"I don't believe so. The cloud cover was extremely thick last night."
"Last night, yes, but what about the night before? They said she was there the previous night as well." Brianne was already across the room calling Iris as Parisia completed her thought. "The only way I can permanently censure Nadia is with irrefutable, shocking proof. Otherwise, she's liable to concoct some tale that will put doubts in certain minds, as she has in the past."
As Brianne completed her call to Iris, her bright smile lifted Parisia's spirits. "Iris was a step ahead of you this time, Mother. She just finished viewing a segment of the prior night's sky recording. She said the close-up is very grainy but there's no question about it being Nadia behaving most improperly with an Earth man. Apparently the techs were so busy watching the group in the transfer room, they missed the activity outside.
"To quote her, if you have the courage to show that film to Parliament, not only will Nadia lose every supporter she ever had, they will agree to anything you propose afterward."
Parisia's smile now matched her daughter's. "Then I'll just have to gather up my courage, because what I'm going to propose would be best presented to a Parliament that was already in a state of shock."
"Mother! Just what is this idea of yours?"
"First ask Delbert to bring me a snack and cup of tea while I bathe." As she headed for the bathroom and Brianne went to the door, she said, "Oh, yes, and a freshly pressed special appearance gown. The gold one, I think. I'll explain my plan while I get ready. I can't believe I was sitting there feeling sorry for myself. Remember this, Brianne. Every so often things need to be stirred up to keep everyone on their toes, no matter how frightening the change might seem."
Brianne didn't care what the shocking plan was, she would back it wholeheartedly if it meant seeing her mother happy. Just now Parisia looked as she had years ago—full of energy and spirit, anxious to do battle on the floor of Parliament.
She was halfway down two flights of winding stairs when she saw Delbert coming up, carrying a tray. On it was a silver tea service, two china cups and a plate of sandwich triangles. "You've been reading Mother's mind again, Delbert." She smiled to let him know she was teasing as she walked back up the stairs with him. "She just asked me to have you bring her a snack and tea. She also requested—"
"A freshly pressed gown," Delbert finished for her. "Her gold one is already hanging in her dressing room."
Brianne laughed. "You really do know what she wants before she does, don't you?"
Delbert lowered his eyes shyly. "We've been together a very long time... and Parisia has always been just a bit predictable. Do you require any assistance? Jason is helping the chef at the moment, but I'm sure he could be—"
"No, no. It's not necessary to interrupt him. I'm going to Parliament exactly as I am. No one will notice me with the show Mother and Iris have planned."
If he had suggested one of the other housemen, she might have accepted the offer, but she never felt completely comfortable about being served by her twin brother. Had they been born to anyone other than the Imperial Prefect, it would never have been a problem. When Jason turned twenty, he would have been put into service in another household. As the Prefect's son, however, he was in the awkward position of being too exalted to work for a lesser family.
The Imperial Prefect had the exclusive option to terminate a pregnancy if she learned that a male had been conceived. Parisia would have aborted if it had been a singular conception. With a female twin, however, her decision had not been so simple.
She had encountered a series of problems in her attempt to conceive an heiress and the doctor had warned her that she might never conceive again. Knowing there would be difficulties in the years ahead for her son, she chose to bear the non-identical twins in order to have a daughter to carry on the family line.
Parisia was coming out of her bath wrapped in a warm robe as Brianne and Delbert reentered the suite. "He anticipated you, as usual," Brianne said as she and her mother both sat by the table where Delbert placed the tea tray.
"Would you like me to do your hair while you have your tea?" he asked Parisia while pouring her favorite brew.
She smiled up at him affectionately. "That would be very nice, thank you. Something to make me look very serious, I think."
Brianne wondered if she would ever find a houseman as perfect for her as Delbert was for Parisia. He was extremely bright and pleasant looking for a man, and not at all clumsy as so many of them tended to be, which were the reasons Parisia had chosen him to begin with, both as a servant and sire for her offspring.
Actually, Brianne thought she'd be happy just to find a servant that could style hair as well as Delbert. It was his exceptional skill and eye for beauty that had earned him the very rare privilege of touching Parisia and her daughter. Of course, it was only their hair he could touch and he had to ask permission first. Otherwise, he always remembered to keep a respectable distance from them both.
Delbert was the only man Brianne had ever communicated with, even as a child. Parisia had used his sperm to fertilize her egg then kept him on as caretaker after the twins were born. Parisia never had reason to replace him in all the years since.
Though Brianne understood the reason, she still felt sad when she recalled the day she had become a woman and Delbert had no longer been permitted to treat her as a child. From that day forward, physical contact between them had been prohibited. It was upsetting at first, especially that day she fell and hurt her knee. She had cried for him to pick her up and give her a hug to make it feel better. He had been hurt that day too, but the law had to be obeyed—especially in the home of the Imperial Prefect.
The separation was much harder with Jason. She supposed it was because they were twins and bound in a different way than most brothers and sisters. They both had a difficult time remembering the no-touching rule, until finally Jason was threatened with banishment. Rather than be parted from his family entirely, he and Brianne both worked harder to adjust to the new rules. To help him along, his antidote dosage had been temporarily increased as well.
"Brianne?" Parisia said softly. "You look quite distressed. You mustn't be. I will admit that my proposal is radical but with Nadia out of the way..."
As Parisia began to spell out her plan, Brianne shook off the confusion she always felt when she thought too long or too hard about Delbert or Jason. She was the daughter of the Imperial Prefect of Heart, which meant if there was no major opposition, she would be the next Imperial Prefect. It was not good to question traditions that formed the found
ation of their society. Her role was to see that those traditions were carried on in order to ensure domestic peace and tranquility throughout the world.
With part of her mind lagging in the past, she thought perhaps she had misunderstood what her mother was suggesting and asked her to repeat what she had just said. When she realized she hadn't misunderstood at all, she was filled with unease. It seemed extremely ironic that while she had been thinking of carrying on age-old traditions to assure world peace, the Imperial Prefect was planning on breaking a few primary laws... for the same reason.
* * *
Tarla saw the rows of cots, the men with bandaged wounds, the IV bottles and bare light bulbs. It's not real, she told herself. It's only a dream. You can make it go away if you really try.
She was sick to death of war, the senseless maiming and killing. How naïve she had been to think that because she'd worked as an emergency room nurse, she could tolerate the sights and sounds of an army hospital unit. For each soldier she nursed back to health, another died. Soon one young man's face blended in with the next and the next, and there were times when she had to look at the chart to remember whether this was Bill or Troy or a new patient just arrived. Had he lost a leg or a hand? Or was this another drug overdose?
But there was one name she didn't forget. One face that stayed with her whether she wanted it to or not. She saw him there now, lying on his cot with his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep so she wouldn't bother him. But she was too smart for that ploy. He was going to talk to her today if she had to drag words out of his mouth.
As she did several times a day, she checked his pulse, took his temperature and listened to his lungs, chatting to him all the while as though she expected him to respond. Suddenly he opened his eyes and looked at her, and he didn't need to speak aloud.
He adored her. He worshiped her. He needed her to love him and need him in return. She had never known a man whose loneliness matched her own, and yet, without a word she knew he felt it too. "Logan," she whispered, and bent to kiss his lips.
LOGAN (The Innerworld Affairs Series, Book 5) Page 16