The Middle East flared into conflict again. The Arab spring of the previous decade had festered into a long, hot, burning summer. Terrorism increased, most of it sectarian. The West had become tired of being drawn into interminable Middle-Eastern conflicts and pursued a new policy of isolation and containment. Two world leaders were assassinated and hostilities between India and Pakistan; South and North Korea; and Japan, the Philippines and China escalated.
Global warming continued unchecked and severe weather events wreaked havoc in the US, which had its worst tornado and hurricane season on record with a total of twenty F5 tornadoes, one giant smashing through the suburbs of Oklahoma City, killing hundreds. There were also two category five hurricanes, one smashing Miami and the other Mobile, Alabama.
A quiet panic had begun to seep through the corridors of power in all the major nations. The public servants had noticed a trend. The flu pandemic, the appearance of superbugs, the rolling financial crisis and the cost of mitigating so many disasters had begun to effect governments’ ability to cope. In the US they realised that there may not be much federal assistance for the next big hurricane or drought: many of the states were effectively bankrupt anyway.
Technically the OECD countries were in economic decline. Humanity was no longer making progress.
The reaction of the financial, religious and political elites was depressingly predictable. With a few notable exceptions, they circled the wagons to protect their wealth and power, and rather than use democratic processes to redistribute that wealth, politicians became increasingly corrupt and undemocratic, hoping to appease and ingratiate themselves with the rich and powerful.
At a time when reason suggested the planet needed protection, the elites selfishly hastened the exploitation of resources and of people.
A global scandal erupted when it was revealed that various cabals were buying up land in remote areas based on the projected effects of climate change and building heavily fortified enclaves. The deal was simple. If a government official helped ease the way for the development of an enclave they were promised a place. The rest of humanity was to be sold out, left to suffer the ravages of disease, financial crises and environmental degradation.
The time was ripe for revolution but the population seemed drained of hope. Some supported the creation of the enclaves believing that some form of irrational providence would allow them access. The sale of lottery tickets skyrocketed. Many simply hoped for a small change in luck.
It never arrived.
It was during that year that Shunyata proceeded to the next stage. They sent a probe into orbit around Neptune’s moon Triton. They were astounded as it instantaneously sent back live high definition video of Neptune rising over Triton’s icy landscape.
Six months later they were in awe as a probe streamed live video from Alpha Centauri Bb, an Earth sized planet far too hot for habitation but a worthy subject for the very first interstellar jump. They sat mesmerised as they watched the twin suns of the Alpha Centauri system rise over the crater riven surface of the planet they called Agni.
It was his proudest moment. Solving the problem of interstellar navigation had been difficult. It was only after listening to Gustav Holst’s Planets that he understood that each star had a unique signature, its own symphony of electro-magnetic radiation. It was not lost on him that he had finally learned to understand the Pythagorean Harmony of the Spheres.
At roughly the same time a team based in the remote region of northern Brazil successfully manipulated the void field around a sphere to cancel its mass. As far as local spacetime was concerned, the object had no gravitational friction. At first it floated, then, using its ability to manipulate gravity, it flew exactly like the legendary UFOs, changing direction and acceleration without the usual constraints of Newtonian motion.
15
Nuku
She walked out onto Plato Square; one of the oldest suburban centres in the capital. It was busy with shoppers buying fresh food from the various market stalls: the daily catch of seafood; vegetables, fruits and grains from the farms; exotics and specialties from local growers; breads, cakes and biscuits, jams, nectar and nut spreads from home kitchens; fruit wines from the plains; and a wide variety of cheeses and yoghurts made from vegetable proteins. The smell was overwhelming and she realised just how hungry she was. She made her way through a crowd of people dressed in brightly coloured sarongs or kaupinam, some naked, all glittering with jewellery, toward her favourite kebab stall where she ordered a barbecued forest gorat with the lot (her guardian automatically transferring the funds). She sat on a low marble wall under the shade of an old jing jing tree with its white flowers beginning to shed their petals and devoured the kebab, letting the juices run down her tattooed chin.
“Nuku?” she heard.
She looked up to see a young girl in a short blue brocade sarong, her arms and ankles jangling with gold and silver bracelets, her brown chest naked and sporting a pair of pert breasts, her delicate face wearing a broad smile and a new facial tattoo on her chin, a symbol of her sexual maturity.
“Sister? When did you grow those?”
“Shows you how long you’ve been away,” she laughed, pushing her chest out.
“Beautiful,” she said. “So you’re a woman now, you’ve taken the markings?”
She got up and her sister Alohanani embraced her enthusiastically. “Father said you were coming. Everyone’s excited. There’s a new cohort of siblings you haven’t met.”
“Really, my the girls have been busy…”
“Yes, and guess what, I’m in my first trimester.”
“You, so soon?” she looked down and noticed the small bump. She wasn’t that surprised. Aloha was twelve, but she had always declared she wanted to start having children as soon as she was fertile and clearly the theraputae had declared she was physically mature enough to carry them naturally (no young mother would ever be allowed a dangerous birth – the advances in obstetrics had taken care of that).
“And the father?”
“Hard to tell,” she retorted cheekily.
“You harlot,” she teased.
“Come,” said Aloha, pulling at her hand. “The family have gathered. We are having a feast, a traditional umakai. Oh, I’m so excited you are here. There’s lots to tell.”
She found her father in his workshop carving a commission from the football league, a small, intricate sculpture depicting a player raising above a cluster to head the ball into the goal: the annual trophy for the best and fairest. He had been carving them for years, each one unique.
“Papa,” she said softly, not wanting to startle him.
He turned and peered over the magnifying glasses he used for detail, breaking into the broad smile that so many of his thirty-five children had inherited. He was a big bull of a man with a large belly and a charismatic presence. When he was younger he had been a champion player and attracted the erotic attentions of females and males alike. Women had clamoured for his genes and he had impregnated twelve women, with three, Susannah, Kiara and her mother, Fa’anui, deciding to stick around and establish an extended family.
“Nuku,” he said softly and lovingly. He stood and she wrapped her arms around his chest and pressed tightly into his big belly.
She stayed in his embrace as tears welled in her eyes. “I’ve missed you, all of you, terribly.”
He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. “And we missed you, but then you always had the wanderlust.”
He pushed her back gently to look at her. “My, you really did go feral, those bruises. What were you doing, wrestling the wildlife like Sheena?”
She smiled. “Nearly.”
He walked with her to the courtyard. The family home had been built in the style of a Balinese family compound. There was a large central courtyard shaded by large red tremble tree draped with blue flowering parasite vine, surrounded by a number of intricately carved buildings that housed bedrooms, a large kitchen and two studios, one for her father’s sculpting an
d another for her mother Fa’anui’s weaving looms. Most of the eating and living was done in the courtyard.
When her extended family saw her they all smiled and rushed to embrace her. It was chaotic as she was pushed and pulled and kissed. Newborns were handed to her, one still gurgling breast milk, and her younger brother A’la’ai ushered two swollen bellied girls to meet her, Eleni and Yoshimi.
“Two,” she laughed, “You’ve taken after papa.”
“It was their doing,” he protested lightly. “Us men, we are just sperm carriers.”
“Yes, and it is such a tough job,” pouted Yoshimi to tease him.
And in a sense he was right. The planet was still to reach its ideal population level and the Common had long ago adopted a policy to shift the gender ratio. There were now three women to every man. It was a logical step. Sperm was in plentiful supply but ova were limited. It was in effect a matriarchy: a point adequately demonstrated when her mothers and two grandmothers appeared from the kitchen. The commotion calmed out of respect as they stood on the wide wooden veranda, waiting for Nuku to come to them. She embraced her mother first, the oldest, and then the others according to their ages.
“Look at you,” her mother said with a wry smile, “my adventurer. You can’t come to dinner looking like that.” She turned Nuku and inspected every inch. “Tsk, tsk girl, those bruises, that hair. I’ll get the girls to clean you up.”
And with that she summoned Aloha, Eleni and Yoshimi to take her to the compound showers. She luxuriated in the attention as she was scrubbed, exfoliated, depilated, her nails trimmed and painted, her hair washed, her skin moisturised, her vulva and anus massaged with fragrant oils, and temporary tattoos with traditional Polynesian designs applied, all whilst they laughed and told explicit tales about their recent sexual exploits.
Aloha finally revealed the father of her child. “You’ve known him all your life,” she teased.
Nuku was initially confused but deep down she knew there was only one possibility, the man Aloha had had a crush on since she was little girl. “Not papa’s friend Hafiz, your painting tutor, but he’s…”
“The same age as Papa, fifty-two, yes I know.”
“And papa?”
“He knew already. I don’t remember, but apparently I declared to everyone and to Hafiz when I was six that one day I would have his baby. I used to flirt with him mercilessly.”
Nuku was shocked without really understanding why. Aloha was a citizen and could mate with whomever she wished. Perhaps it was because Hafiz was such a close family friend and she had known him all her life. Yet, despite her shock, she did see the logic. Hafiz was a beautiful, gentle man. “So is this a formal arrangement, will you join his circle?”
Aloha smiled mischievously, enjoying Nuku’s surprise. “No, it is informal. I will stay here; raise the child with Eleni and Yoshiko’s children. It was an affair with one purpose and that purpose has been achieved. Mind you, it was a delicious affair. He’s a superb lover and that cock of his is still a wonder. He may have grey hair but he is still quite virile. I thought he would split me open the first time.”
At that point both Eleni and Yoshimi laughed. “You were no virgin. Your cunt was so eager and wet it took his measure easily,” Eleni scoffed.
“You tired the poor man out. Lucky for him your eggs were hungry, gobbling up all his little swimmers. It only took her sixth cycle for one to sprout, fertile bitch,” laughed Yoshimi.
Nuku couldn’t help but laugh. Somehow it did not surprise her that Aloha had been so eager and voracious.
All this talk of babies whilst these three naked, gorgeous pregnant women oozing oestrogen bathed her, made her feel decidedly maternal, something she was certain her mothers had planned. Perhaps after this section two was finished it might be time to make a parenting agreement.
The umakai went well into the night as cousins, friends and lovers dropped by. She caught up with most of them. Infants were placed in her arms and she cooed; younger children came and sat in her lap; and adults shared the most recent gossip.
She was exhausted as she unrolled a futon on the veranda of the sleeping hut, all the beds taken. Aloha unrolled one beside her. In hushed tones they recounted some of the events of the night until Aloha curled up in Nuku’s arms. Instinctively Aloha guided her big sister’s hand to her vulva as they had done as children. Nuku kissed her younger sister and waited to feel the familiar, comforting sigh. They were both too tired for Aloha to reciprocate; besides, it had usually been a rather one-sided arrangement. Before she closed her eyes and slipped into sleep she peered at the night sky. It must have been the early hours of the morning because she caught a glimpse of the shimmering blue of Eros through the leaves of the tremble tree.
16
Prax and Cynthia
Cynthia pouted as they continued their journey. He ignored her, impatient of her hormone driven sexual jealousy. She sat with her arms folded, glowering as she looked distractedly out the window. She seemed to be showing no sign of self-understanding, instead choosing to indulge her irrational emotions.
“This is us,” he said sharply as the carriage pulled into Red Cliff station.
He got off without looking to see if she was following, making her chase after him.
The station entrance was carved to look like one of the natural cavernous overhangs common to the eponymous red sand stone cliffs of this part of the archipelago. Sunlight poured in from the broad entrance so that he had to squint until his eyes adjusted. Before him was the blue water of the open ocean and small golden beach of Kali inlet surrounded by tall red cliffs dripping with purple and yellow stranglers and vines. A few people were swimming and there were a couple of windsurfers leaping the waves. It was late afternoon and the light was turning golden.
There were two ways to go: take the external lift to the top of the cliff or take the path that hugged the base. He chose the latter, enjoying the refreshing scent of the sea spray. He picked up his pace, making her run after him.
“Are you angry with me mentor?” she pleaded behind him.
He did not turn. “And what do you think might inspire my disapproval?” he asked coldly.
“I’m sorry, it was just a joke.”
He turned and glared at her. “And what was the emotion behind the joke?”
She was stunned into silence and he returned to his pace.
His rebuke made her blush and she replayed the scene in her mind. The realisation came slowly because she could not believe she had allowed it to happen. When she had first seen Nuku her first thought was that she was beautiful - curvaceous and walking with a certain sexual swagger, her gaze fixed on Prax. She seemed to remember shifting her position to stand in front of Prax as if to guard him. It had been an automatic response to protect her mate from sexual competition. Except of course that Prax was not her mate.
“I’m sorry mentor,” she mumbled. “That was unbecoming of me. It was sexual competition. I realise that now. I saw her as a threat.”
“You did not see her as a threat. Your base instincts saw her as a threat. What you failed to do was notice your base instincts.”
He stopped and turned and she bowed her head. “And that gesture just now? You called her an ape and here you are bowing your head in submission to the alpha male. Do you want to pick my hair for nits, make reassuring sounds, release some oxytocin to calm the rush of adrenaline caused by my male aggression?” He made an ape face and she laughed.
“Good,” he laughed. “Eyes open at all times,” he said. “You will never stop the emotion from arising, but you can stand back, watch it arise and stop it from dominating your reason.”
The path at the bottom of the cliffs turned a corner to reveal a small, narrow bay of lush variegated vegetation: yellow, purple, green, with splashes of white star flower. They left the coastal path and headed in, with the vegetation growing taller until they were under its canopy. Around another corner she saw the first dwelling hidden amongst the trees. Further
around they climbed steps carved into rock and descended into a smaller, hidden valley. When the vegetation thinned she gasped. “Is this it? It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, this is where my circle lives.”
She stood still to take in the view. Wood and stone buildings clung to a cliff face covered in vegetation and clinging to every possible foothold. The centrepiece was a small waterfall feeding a creek that no doubt ended in the sea.
“Ah,” he sighed. “I can smell food.”
They climbed stone steps to an alcove where a door opened to reveal a naked, beautiful, feminine youth of around fourteen. “Papa Prax, welcome home.”
“Aris,” he smiled, wrapping him a warm embrace. “This is my apprentice Cynthia,” he said standing back.
Cynthia smiled and offered her hand, “hi.” He shook it and this time she noticed her reaction, quickly lifting her eyes from his surprisingly impressive member to his vivid blue eyes. Yes, he was indeed a very pretty boy, but she would not ogle.
In no time people surrounded them: adults, adolescents and children, all naked, all beautiful, all hugging Prax and pulling Cynthia into their embrace.
“I’m to show you where you will sleep,” said Aris taking her hand.
She followed him back outside to the wide veranda and up more stairs to a wooden building that had been deliberately designed to look as if it had grown out of the cliff. When they entered she saw that, like the main room, most of it was carved out of the cliff face to make a homely cavern with nary a straight line. He pointed to a door. “Shower and bidet in there.” Pointed to a mess of futons on the floor. “This is where our age cohort sleeps; you can dump your stuff on the floor. We don’t wear clothes at home, but if you would rather…”
She shook her head and dropped her bag and her sarong, somewhat relieved. He smiled and unselfconsciously looked her up and down. “Prax said you were enhanced, strong… Can I?” She wasn’t sure what he was suggesting but she nodded. He moved closer and put his hand around her upper arm. She flexed her biceps. “Wow, how much can you lift?”
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