She raised a hand toward my face to keep me from speaking until she had finished. “I’ve been looking into your computer identity records, General, and I must say they are excellent forgeries. It would take an expert to find fault with them. But they’re all lies, aren’t they?” “Does it make any diSerence what I say?”
“None whatsoever. Unless you wish'“to tell me the truth. But somehow I doubt that you’ll do that.” “You’re right there at least.”
“Then should I go to AkweNema and KaphNo and tell them what I know? Should I ask them to do a little checking about you, more than they’ve already done?” She laughed a strange, almost bitter laugh. “Oh, those poor fools! You could be a government agent for all they know, come to infiltrate the BrathelLanza and bring all the power of the state down to crush them.”
“I’m not that.”
“I know.”
“You’re certain?”
“I’m certain of several things that you aren’t, General. One of the things you aren’t is a government agent. Another is a barbarian mercenary come across the sea to sell your fighting skill to the highest bidder. What I don’t know is what you are.”
“Then why don’t you do like you said, tell AkweNema and KaphNo and Lord DessaTyso what you know? Why didn’t you do that before you even spoke to me?”
“Honestly, General, I have no desire to do that. I suspect certain things about you, things that I’m not even sure I can put into words. But I also suspect that you find it to your advantage to do exactly what the BrathelLanza expects of you. Whatever else you are, I don’t think that you’re about to betray them.”
“You’re right in that too.”
“So I will not tell them.”
“I’m still not certain I understand why.”
“Your understanding is not necessary, General, only your knowledge that it is so.”
“Okay. I guess.”
She smiled that wicked smile again. “Just continue to do as they wish you to do, General. You and I are on the same side, you know, and it is to the advantage of us both to see that the BrathelLanza is successful. Isn’t it?”
With that she turned, gazed briefly once more into the cylinder, at the naked little boy inside, then turned back to me again, a frank look coming to her eyes. “Wicked little boys can be a lot of fun.”
Did I comprehend her meaning? I wasn’t certain until her hands went to the clasps of her thin blouse, released them, and her breasts broke free of the fabric. “We are quite alone,” she said as she shrugged out of
the blouse. “I took the precaution of locking the doors when I entered.”
“But ...” I began to say, then thought better of it.
“You are interested? You would like to make love with me?” she asked as the blouse fluttered to the floor and her hands went to the belt of her trousers.
“I would be a liar if I said no.”
“Then do not lie to me about that, General.” She released the belt and then the clasps that held the trousers at her waist and allowed them to drop to the floor.
“Am I not as beautiful as you imagined?” she asked, smiling wickedly.
“More so,” I said, feeling the stiffening within my own trousers, forgetting any fears I might have had of being discovered by the henchmen of the lord DessaTyso. To hell with him.
“And let us see if you have fulfilled the promise the boys within the encanters show,” she said, stepping toward me, reaching to loosen the clothing I wore.
“Oh, yes, General, you have fulfilled that promise,” she said, flowing into my arms, her breasts crushing against my chest, her hands going to the throbbing point of passion I presented her.
“The floor here is not soft,” she whispered as she went to her knees before me, “but it will do when the time comes for that. But first. .
Later, when she was gone and I was alone in the encanter chamber, silent except for the soft sounds of the machinery that supported the lives of the 340 replicates of myself, I wondered just what was the meaning of all the words she had spoken to me before the passionate, almost savage bout of sexual delight had begun.
My speculations could be endless and would probably be equally fruitless. How could I begin to understand a woman like her?
I shrugged and dressed and started back toward my suite, thinking that now my stomach might be able to take some solid food. With the lady OrDjina I had worked up quite an appetite, another appetite having been quite thoroughly satisfied.
Of OrDjina
In early January, as I logged the days in a private journal, OrDjina’s replicate, finally given the name QueZina, was decanted and gradually brought to consciousness, as had the replicate of AkweNema’s daughter before her. QueZina, looking like an unusually beautiful eighteen-year-old, was not to be given extracts of her senior’s memory, but was to be allowed to develop her own personality through educational experiences not greatly unlike those of a normal human child, though starting from a psychological maturity much greater than that of a newborn and proceeding at a much more rapid pace. It was more on the order of an experiment than anything else, and one to which OrDjina and the lord DessaTyso had given their blessing.
I saw little of AkweNema’s “daughter,” who had been named Akweletana. AkweNema spent more of his time on the surface than he did in the Underground, while the replicated girl remained below, usually in his suite, with nurses and teachers when she wasn’t being given mnemonic instruction by GrelLo’s people. The few times I did see her, during rare visits to AkweNema’s suite, left me with the impression of a very shy little girl inhabiting a big girl’s body and totally uncertain of what to do with it. And each time I saw her, or OrDjina’s replicate, QueZina, or one of the other half dozen or so adult replicates that lived in the BrathelLanza’s Underground, I again felt those perplexing mixtures of feeling I had experienced before and that grew stronger with the passage of time. My attitudes toward replicates, even my own, never really did become clear to me.
In the early part of February, if my record keeping and calculations are at all accurate, my own replicates were placed in the last of the series of developmental encanters, the ones in which they would grow to maturity and from which they would go into a more or less normal kind of existence.
The boys, the 337 duplicates of myself at twelve years of age—another three had died; however, I was told, this was a surprisingly low rate of attrition—all had long blond hair upon their heads, silken like that of girls, and pubic hair, still little more than pale fuzz, had begun to grow around their genitals. Puberty was coming to them, and I wasn’t at all certain that I was ready for that yet. Another 337 of me out running loose and leching after women. Mother, bar the door! Could the universe really stand that?
Meanwhile, the recording of my memories was progressing well, though it was a time-consuming operation, as KaphNo had warned me. In another month or six weeks, psychologist GrelLo assured me, the work would be all but completed and be ready for my editing, which should be accomplished rather quickly.
My training and education in other areas had been nearly completed by then, and I found myself with more free time than I’d had before, free time that I thought I should guard jealously, since once the replicates were finally decanted, I wasn’t likely to have any time of my own. Day and night I would be preparing them for the target day of the revolution, which I figured to be about 1 September 1973.
The lady OrDjina hadn’t spoken with me or approached me again, though I’d noticed her observing me at odd and unexpected times, and wondered just what in blazes she was up to. But then, could anyone answer that question for me?
As we looked through the index of tapes before the wall-filling holotank, EnDera asked, sounding as inno
cent as she could, “Is the lady OrDjina following you around?”
I looked up from the index display and said, trying to sound innocent too, “What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing.” Still little-girl innocent. “It’
s just that she keeps turning up at the oddest places, but only when you’re there too.”
“So you’ve noticed it.”
“Uh-huh. Well, is she?”
“Following me? It looks that way.”
“Why?”
I shrugged. “Damned if I know.”
“I don’t like it.” Jealousy in her voice?
“It is a little disturbing sometimes.”
“She must have a reason.”
“Maybe she just likes me.”
Jealousy in her face now. “She’d better keep her distance.”
“Oh?”
She nodded. “If she’s trying anything with you . . . well, if I don’t get her, the lord DessaTyso will.”
“The jealous type, is he?”
“Uh-huh. And he knows how to use that little gun he carries.”
“Does he really go around armed?”
“Uh-huh. He’s got a flat little pistol under his armpit. Nasty thing.”
I just nodded. I wasn’t surprised. And I thought I’d better watch myself if the lady OrDjina wanted to roll in the hay another time. Not that she wasn’t a very delightful partner, but I didn’t like the idea of being shot at by a jealous lover.
“And I’m the jealous type too, Harkos,” EnDera was saying, as if perhaps she’d caught a glimpse of the memories of OrDjina that were passing through my mind.
“Yeah, I’m beginning to realize that.” And maybe EnDera’s relationship with me was now more than just
an assignment from her superiors in the BrathelLanza. But then I’d suspected that for some time. “She’s a strange one,” I said aloud.
Enl>era grunted affirmatively.
“She’s not a NakrehVatea, is she?”
“No, she isn’t. If I understood correctly, she’s from somewhere in EkhoVro.” That was the political entity that governed a portion of southern Europe and areas of northern Africa in this Here and Now. “I don’t even think she’s ever become a citizen.” A smugness, a superiority in EnDera’s voice? I wasn’t certain.
“Then what’s she doing in the BrathelLanza?” I asked. “I thought only native-born NakrehVatea were allowed into the inner circle—except for me, of course.” “She’s here because of DessaTyso.” She didn’t give him his honorific, I noticed. Maybe she wasn’t any too fond of his lordship. “She has been his mistress for some time now, I understand, but his family doesn’t approve of her. They think he ought to have only native-born girls of his own caste sharing his bed. So there was something of a family brouhaha over her— and it wasn’t even kept in the family: the Blues got wind of what was going on and let it leak to the public, mention was even made of it at the Council of Forty, which got DessaTyso’s father, Lord DessaAnjoh, into hot water. The Reds supported DessaAnjoh in a vote of confidence in the council, but it put him in a bad spot for a while. The families of the members of the Council of Forty are supposed to be above reproach. Anyway, to smooth things over, DessaTyso let it be known that he was parting company with Lady OrDjina and pretended to send her away. Actually what he did was get AkweNema to consent to let her live down here, with a suite and all, and even a personal servant for her. He claimed she was always one of us in spirit anyway. And she seems satisfied enough—or so I thought. And I don’t doubt that DessaTyso is.”
“Must be a nice arrangement for him. This way he
can mix business and pleasure whenever he comes down.”
EnDera nodded.
“What do you know about her background before she was his mistress?”
“Not too much. Mostly gossip, rumors, you know. The story is that she was some sort of entertainer in EkhoVro. Now, I wouldn’t say exactly what kind of entertainer. Some say she was a singer or actress or something, but there are others who claim she did most of her work from flat on her back, and if she used her mouth it wasn’t to sing or talk.”
How right you are, I said to myself, but to EnDera I said, “I follow you. The same way she earns her keep now?”
“Exactly, only now it’s with just one man and not a parade of them. Anyway, it seems that there was this government minister in EkhoVro she got mixed up with; they had a very wild, flashy affair or something. He left his wife and family and moved in with OrDjina in a pleasure-house where she was performing as a nude dancer and maybe staging some private sex shows with male dancers—and even a baboon, so one story said. Anyway, when word of this got out, there was a major scandal and a shake-up in the government. The minister was relieved of his position and OrDjina found it wiser to leave the country the first chance she got.
“And exactly how a person with her reputation ever got a visa to enter NakrehVatee, I’m not certain, but it may be that the lord DessaTyso”—when she pronounced his honorific this time it was with a touch of sarcasm—“already knew her then and pulled some strings to get her admitted. Anyway, that’s what the Blue Chairman said, and that’s why DessaTyso’s father got in trouble. You just don’t mess with immigration rules, you know.”
“Still, it seems odd,” I said. “I mean, allowing an
alien like her into the very heart of something that’s supposed to be as secret as the BrathelLanza.”
“You’re an alien too, Harkos, at least technically.” “Well, I’ve got something the BrathelLanza needs— my skills.”
“OrDjina’s got something DessaTyso needs too—and it’s right between her thighs.”
“Okay. Okay.”
“Not that I’m saying I approve,” EnDera added quickly. “I can’t say that I like her or trust her, and neither does Akwe. One of the rules he set up and made DessaTyso agree to was that she wouldn’t be allowed to leave the Underground or communicate with another outsider prior to the revolution.”
“That sounds wise.”
“But I’m not certain Akwe can enforce it.”
“Why’s that?”
“If DessaTyso wants to smuggle her out some night when Akwe’s not around, who’s to stop him? KaphNo doesn’t have the authority, and I think he’s about the only one who’d even have the guts to try to stop him.” “I see what you mean.” I paused, then asked: “Do you think there’s any chance that she’s an agent of some foreign power? EkhoVro or some other country?” “The thought has crossed my mind. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. There’s just something, well, strange about her.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Harkos.” “So we’re in agreement.”
“As long as you don’t try to get firsthand information about her background or her professional skills.” “Don’t worry. I’d just as soon go to bed with a she- tiger.”
“That would be just about as safe as touching her, I promise you.”
“I accept the warning, and give you my promise that I’ll stay clear of her.” And maybe I really meant it.
EnDera laughed. “I wasn’t really worried.”
I glanced at the illuminated tape index and then back at EnDera. “Do you really want to look at a tape? I can think of a better way to pass the evening.”
“Yes, I believe I can too,” she said, a smile flickering across her lips as she began to open the loose gown she wore.
“Right here?” I asked as I reached for her, one hand entering the open gown and cupping a full breast.
“Right here would be fine,” EnDera replied in hardly more than a whisper, her hands beginning to tug at my clothing. “Right here would be delightful.”
The End of the BrathelLanza
On the morning of 4 March—of that date I am as certain as I am of any in my life: 4 March 1973—KaphNo joined me for breakfast. EnDera wasn’t there. The day before, she had gone up to the surface to transact some business concerning the sale of her paintings and to collect some sums of money due her, and although she had been expected to return by the evening of that day, she still wasn’t back the next morning.
I really wasn’t too worried about her: EnDera was a grown woman, and she could take care of herself in the s
treets of VarKhohs perhaps better than I could have myself; but I was a little on edge because of her absence, and even more so when KaphNo, over coffee and rolls, told me that EnDera wasn’t the only one who had failed to return from the upperworld during the past two days.
“Are you certain?” I asked him.
KaphNo nodded as he nibbled on a sweet roll, then said, “Day before yesterday two of my technicians went up to see about procuring some equipment for one of the labs—rheostats and such for electrical control units. They should have had no trouble obtaining them.”
“But they didn’t come back?”
KaphNo grunted. “I sent another technician up yesterday to find out what happened to them—they were young fellows, you know, and might have stopped for a drink and had a few too many. You know how it is. I wasn’t worried. Then I wasn’t worried.”
“You are now?”
He grunted again, munched his roll, and swallowed 106
with the aid of coffee. “The one I sent up to check on them didn’t come back either.”
I shook my head. “Any idea what’s going on?”
He shook his head in return. “None, but I did give Akwe a call last night, and he said he’d see that it was checked out from his end. I haven’t heard from him yet. Maybe he’ll call soon. I hope he does.”
“And now EnDera,” I said, mostly to myself.
“If I don’t hear from Akwe soon, I’ll punch him up again and have him get someone to check on her. Will that make you feel better?”
“I’ll feel better when I know she’s okay. Has anything like this ever happened before?”
KaphNo shook his head again, opened his mouth,, popped in the remnants of the roll, and washed it down with more coffee. “Don’t get too worried yet, Harkos. It may be nothing at all.”
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