Saturday, September 17, 2011

ANDROMEDA'S TALE
Opening Chapter
By Sirena G.

Chapter 1

A Future So Full of Promise

            The smell of sulfur hung in the air for several seconds after the match was lit. Nadia was curled up, asleep, atop a bookshelf. She was small and fit nicely on this high perch in the greeting room. No one would ever think to look for her there.
            The sound of people shuffling in woke her. Nadia studied the man who had lit the cigarette. She wanted him to turn so she could get a better look at his face. From the side, he was not of any race she had ever seen before. She considered he might be a weird third rung, a mixture of races so deep that he did not qualify as anything, one of those who were often kept as guards.
            He wore baggy thick canvas trousers, excellent for hiding weapons. He was accompanied by a tall, stiff-looking human woman. Nadia could never tell humans apart, with their pudding faces. This was indeed an odd couple. And up to no good, Nadia was sure.                                             
            Loeman had lined up the young women in two rows. Nadia always found it amusing to look at the rugged girls of the Common House after they had come from the groomers. This lot wore pink skirts with ruffles and white gloves to cover their knuckle tattoos. They had sausage curls attached to their bad haircuts, and every cheek was circled with pink rouge. Thick coral lipstick had been smeared on their mouths, and heavy false eyelashes were also stuck on. The result was the appearance of a phalanx of hastily manufactured dolls.  
Nadia couldn't stifle a giggle. The woman whipped her head around and locked her blue eyes onto Nadia's big gray eyes. Nadia’s long, pointed ears perked. A slow smile crept over the strange woman’s face. Nadia did not like this at all. She did not want to be picked by these sponsors--or any sponsors. Her dumb luck to be here during a showing. She had to act quickly. She picked up a dusty book and chucked it at the woman's head. She was sure to get a month cleaning toilets and a good beating for it, but at least she wouldn't be chosen to serve.
            Before she could do anything else, the man snatched her and dangled her upside down by one ankle. Then the man hoisted her up until they were face to face. He cocked his head to one side and inspected her. Nadia gasped when she saw him up close. His profile had not prepared her for what he really looked like. His face was very wide, and his gold eyes spanned from the bridge of his nose to each temple. His mouth was curled in a permanent sneer as a result of deep scars across his cheek. His teeth clenched a roll-me-own so tight, the cigarette looked as if it were in pain.
            “Put me down, insidious wild boar hybrid, and do not eat me!” Nadia yelled. To call someone out as a hybrid was a dangerous insult, but he didn't react in an overly violent manner.  He just hoisted Nadia a little higher and shook her like a toy.
           “Barius!” the woman snapped. “Put the girl down.” Barius flipped Nadia over and set her on her feet.   The Loeman stammered while explaining that Nadia was in the process of being trained, but was proving to be intractable. He apologized and gestured to a guard to take her away.  The woman stopped him.
            “This young lady has been brought to us by the forces of fate and chaos," she said. "We would do well to at least review her file. We should not dismiss hastily the possibility she has been delivered to us by providence." The Loeman stared at Nadia, then back at the woman, then at the rows of sour young ladies dressed like party favors.
            “Of course, as you wish. This is Nadia, 18. I must make it clear that this young lady has been a disciplinary problem from the day I began my tenure here two years ago. I will say in her favor that she has not caused any great harm or damage to anyone. Still and yet, I do not believe she is ready for service. I have had many years of experience as a Loeman. I am skilled enough to reason with even the most hardened delinquent. Yet even under my tutelage, she remains recalcitrant, disobedient, and mischievous. Her race is the most difficult to assimilate. So I don't know if I would place too much merit in the idea of good fortune having to do with your selection. I am a man of logic and not passion, so I implore you to balance the pros and cons of....”
            “Blah blah blah blah!” Nadia slapped her hands over her throat. “Stop talking, Loeman. You are using up all the air in the room. Leave some for everyone else to breathe!”
            Barius grunted. Nadia thought he might be agreeing with her. She did not care if he did. She tried to run out of the room, but found her feet firmly affixed to the spot on which she was standing. Then she felt the light touch of the woman's hand on her shoulder. Nadia twisted her body from side to side. “Hey, she put a spell on me! I'm not going anywhere with you, witch. Witch! Witch!” 
            Barius frowned at the girl, then looked at the woman. “Think maybe you could turn her volume down?” His voice was deep, loud, and rough, sounding to Nadia like a rumbling truck engine in need of a good mechanic.
            The Loeman said, “Ah, Lady Salvin, you are a practitioner of the arts, I see. Well, then, perhaps providence may play a role in this selection after all....” He was sweating. He obviously feared practitioners. He made a gesture to dismiss the girls, and all of them left the room sullenly.
            Nadia watched them go with sad amusement. The dumb little bitches were disappointed not to
be chosen. They were all fake, dreaming of being swept away to new homes. That was the fallacy the institution kept trying to convince them of, that being selected as a ward to serve wealthy--usually human--families was their best hope. The very idea revolted Nadia.
           The Loeman motioned for the three of them to follow him. “Let us go to my office and pull Nadia's files. We usually take a few days to clear a petition, but in your case, I will file it under ‘Special Need.’  Will that be all right, Lady Salvin?”
            “Please call me Iris.  And, yes, I think that will work out just fine.”
            Nadia groaned. She could not believe it. She was wearing the most tattered shorts she owned. Her chest was bound in a winding cloth that should have hit the rag pile ages ago. She had not bathed in a week and her feet were black with grunge. She howled in protest. The Loeman gave her a sharp look.
            Barius pulled out Nadia's long pointed ears from her nest of tangled red and black hair. He grabbed her ears and wiggled them. “Erinian," he proclaimed and shook his big head. "They are all like this, thorns in the shoe, all of ’em.” Barius rolled a new smoke and lit it. He turned to Iris. “You sure this is what you want, then let's deal, but what you see is what you get.”
              “Touch not my supple ears, fuzzy butt!” Nadia yelled. Barius pinched her cheeks. They headed down a garishly appointed hall to the Loeman's office. Nadia looked at the posters of ragged children taken in by smiling True Bloods. One caption read: A future so full of promise. Nadia disagreed and retorted, “A future so full of compromise.” She was no longer amused. They would have to send her to the reservation at 21 if she was not chosen. She had only three years left. She couldn't believe she was being picked. The witch held a hand on her as if it were a harness.
             What could they want with her, she wondered? Certainly she was adorable and sexy, with her big eyes and curvy figure, but she was also filthy, rude, and obnoxious. She was every inch Erinian, and everyone hated Erinians.
            Barius looked back at the girl, who was not keeping up. Normally, he would have been attracted to her. She was cute enough. Right now, though, he was tired, hungry, and anxious to get the hell out of this Common House, free of the fat windbag of a Loeman, and away from the cursed perfumes that had been sprayed on the girls. The perfumes had given him a roaring headache. At least the Erinian smelled like hay and horses.
 In the office, the Loeman addressed Barius, as he was cowed by Iris. Barius grunted while the man read through a litany of disclaimers, fees, licensing, taxes, contractual agreements, and other crap Barius did not care about. The Loeman occasionally punctuated the monologue with little anecdotes about his life. He talked about his education, his credentials, and his accomplishments. Meanwhile, Nadia had quietly checked to see if the door was locked. It was. She looked at books and furtively glanced out the window. Barius' headache raged. He finally snapped, “Just tell me if she's a virgin. If she is, we'll pay you and go.”
            The Loeman stared open-mouthed at him. “We do not sell girls for sexual purposes. We do not sell girls at all. These fees are part of the processing. Her sexual experience is not a question for you to ask."
            Barius grunted louder. Nadia snorted derisively. Everyone knew that most girls in the care of the State were sold either as mistresses or prostitutes.
            Nadia watched closely. She sensed a menace and a challenge in Barius. Perhaps the Loeman would throw him out for asking aloud a question meant to be whispered.
            Lady Salvin held up her hand. “The question is appropriate. I am of a celibate order. The girl could benefit from our intensive training, but not if she is corrupted. We cannot accept her if she is defiled.”
            Nadia snorted again. Her sense of smell was keen. The woman might be celibate, but Nadia could smell juice on Barius. Stale, maybe from last night.  He probably got "defiled" any time he could find someone who would hold still for him. Nadia opened her mouth to say something. Barius came over and pushed her down on an ugly plaid couch in the back of the office. She sat with a weak protest.
            Barius produced something from his vest. It looked like a misshapen globe of red gel. Gold sparkled deep inside it as lights seemed to go on and off in the heart of the blob. Nadia could not help but stare hard at it and be drawn in by its power. She took the globe and rolled it in her hands. It had a wonderful warmth and weight. She stretched it, and each time she did it slid back into its relaxed shape.
            The Loeman watched nervously as Barius let the force subdue the girl. He did not want to tangle with these two. Celibate order or not, they obviously had the magic. “Oh, do forgive me, I apologize for questioning your motives. It's just that we receive some visitors who have less than honorable intentions. Let me assure you, as of her monthly medical examination, the last of which   was two weeks ago, her hymen was intact.”
            Barius gave the Loeman a stern glare. The man hurried through the paperwork. When it was done, Barius snatched Nadia from the couch as she was braiding three long strands of red goo. Then the braids melded together and became the configuration of a smushed globe once more. She continued to play with the globe as Barius carried her out of the office. She watched dark red flecks collide with tiny sparkles deep inside the greasy interior of the mass. They performed a slow, orchestrated dance. Nadia
had to pay close attention to see this. And if she concentrated hard enough, she could direct the movements.
            Nadia was in a deep trance as the Loeman fitted a thin black snake of leather around her neck. The collar served both for identification and as a tracking device. It expired after three solar years, at which point it would fall off. Attempting to remove it before then would result in burns, and a permanent mark of Common House registry would be branded to her skin. Inside the brand, the expiration date would show for the convenience of bounty hunters. A thin chain was attached to the collar.
            Barius carried Nadia outside, and as sunlight hit her face the spell was broken. Nadia threw down the enchanted toy as if it were a poisonous snake. She bit Barius on the arm. She planted her feet on his chest and pushed.
            “I will not be fed to a Borack. I am not your virgin sacrifice. Let me go! I have sour blood. I taste awful. I steal. I burn things. I'll escape. Put me back in the ward. I'm trouble, bad trouble!” Nadia kicked out of Barius' arms, but he grabbed her and placed her under an armpit. She kicked and punched but hit nothing except air. She did not see Lady Salvin approach. The woman placed her hands on Nadia's face. She went limp.
            “You didn't need to do that,” Barius said, holding Nadia's wilted form. Iris did not answer him. She started for the truck. Barius followed. Barius' dog, Soko, danced in excitement at their arrival and let out a curious bark. Soko was tall, with long legs and expansive ears that ended in dark tufts. Barius gave the dog's muzzle a quick rub. He climbed into the driver’s seat while Iris worked on unknotting the tangles in Nadia's hair.
“I thought we agreed I was to do the talking,” Iris said in a quiet but firm tone.
            Barius peered at her profile. The sun was low and its angle revealed a glimpse of her age in her face. It was not a matter of lines or sagging skin, but instead a tightening that created a certain sheen on her skin as it stretched across the bone. With each year she appeared harder and harder. In more direct  light he could even make out the exact shape of her skull. She was still beautiful, although in a severe fashion, since no one would ever refer to her as cute or pretty. But of greater significance, no one would have guessed her real age either.
            “I have a headache from that shit they sprayed on the girls to make them smell better," Barius said. "The whole time in there I was suppressing an urge to beat that Loeman into a bloody pulp. Then  I had to keep an eye on this kid so she wouldn't chew a hole in the wall and escape. And I'm damn hungry. I was daydreaming about killing someone. It was the only thought that gave me peace. I know you love to pass judgment and everything, but I wouldn't right now, not until this headache goes away.”
            A slight smile turned the corners of Iris' lips. “That was some truly revolting perfume. And those costumes! I have never seen rats in pinafores before. Roll your window down, the fresh air will clear your head. Then, when you feel better, I can light into you about running your mouth.”
            Barius let the last comment pass. “All that crap you were talking about--fate and providence--is that why you picked the dust devil that's now in your lap? I mean, there were some young ladies who looked a hell of a lot easier to get along with than an Erinian. Of course, they'd have to ride in the back with Soko to blow the smell off. I think you just picked her because the rest of the lot looked like Navian wharf trollops.”
           Iris tilted her head defiantly. “I always make well-calculated decisions. Erinians are, as you say, thorns. But they are also physically strong and emotionally consistent. They can suffer a great deal of corporal punishment and mental turmoil and still keep their spirits intact.”
            Barius snorted. “I still say you picked her on a whim. You could have done a little better.”
            Iris' jaw tightened. She spoke in carefully measured words. “I'll have you know that I can trace this girl's lineage back many generations. She is directly descended from one of the oldest original families. In fact, she is the last surviving member of that family. She is pure Erinian. Do you understand?”
            “That's all I wanted to know,” Barius said as Iris stiffened her back. Barius smiled. His headache was receding.
            They drove in silence. Nadia began to squirm. Iris put her hand on the girl’s face. Barius gently placed his great hand on Iris' back. “That's not necessary,” she told him.
            Nadia did not wake, but her fingers involuntarily tugged at the collar around her throat. She moaned when it did not release. Barius reached toward her, but Iris said, “Let her have her dreams.   Let her sleep. Don't push her under.”