2121
My name is Dorothea.
I did have a surname but it was forgotten long ago. In this place people are
known by their forename. It seems like only yesterday since I came here. Reflecting
back to those dreary rain filled days when the sun rarely shone I acknowledge
that to go back would be a catastrophe, yet that is what my family did. They thought
returning to live on war-torn Planet Earth would be an exciting adventure. Not
me, I’m happy with the adventures I get here.
Space travel
has its advantages. If it wasn’t for winning the pools and booking a trip in
the space ferry I would never have discovered this tranquil place where age is no
longer a worry and termination nothing more than a distant dream.
Young Quamlo
was my salvation. He originated from the place where I had landed and where I
now live, a place called Sol Vellow which is on the coast of Swentiva.
I’d never heard of either until I encountered him on a rocky haven at the foot
of Jungos Mount and he gave me a brief history of the place. That was at a time
when I longed for the green fields I’d read about in my early years. Because of
that the rocks were disappointing. It was my first experience of such terrain;
I always imagined it to be tough on feet and heart but there was a surprising softness
about the walkways and an agreeable ambience that seemed to wash over me like soothing
dew. The humid air seemed permanently scented but since there are few flowers I
have yet to discover the cause.
I refer to Quamlo
as young but when I listened to his tales I realised he must be at least a
hundred. The place, he said, was magical; youthful looks lasted for the rest of
one’s natural life … however long that was. I used to laugh at the phrase eternal
life, until I arrived here. Quamlo was quick to put me right. ‘It is not to be
laughed at, Dorothea. Eternal life is something to be grateful for. Only souls
filled with wickedness need have fear.’
Quamlo is
an Independent, a term given to free spirits, although his feet are firmly on
the ground at all times. He instructs the androids kindly but firmly to ensure
his wishes are carried out with the minimum of fuss. I found that remarkable.
When the cooling system failed he only had to raise a finger for Enrico to
steer his great metal frame into the yard to get it fixed.
My house is
built in rock. On Planet Earth it would be known as a cave. It consists of six
equal sized compartments, or rooms, if you prefer, in circular design. The
kitchen is in the middle with five windows, each one picking up light from the
adjoining rooms. Next to that is the feast room, the pool room, and three rooms
designated as accommodation for guests, a bedroom for me and Quamlo, and a room
designed specifically for gaming activities. The guest room is seldom used but
it is always kept in pristine condition for visiting Nationals, they rarely
give much notice and Quamlo believes in taking no chances.
The house once
belonged to Umulo, once recognised as the Great Ruler of Swentiva until he was
assassinated. The perpetrator of the monstrous crime was put to death in a painful
manner.
It was
about a year after the death that Quamlo approached me on the subject of us
living together. He had been Umulo’s man, they had done everything together and
the sudden loneliness did not sit well on his well shaped shoulders. I thought
about it for a long time, weighed up all the consequences, taking into account the
advancing years and the certain loss of youthful features. Since I was not born
here I sensed that eternal life might not be mine. This belief, though, was
kept from Quamlo lest it should arouse his wrath. Selfishly I decided that the
prospect of living with him had its merits. Physically he was well endowed, his
small stature complemented my lack of height, and I have evidence to verify the
fact that he is a good provider. I want for nothing.
Over the
years I grew stronger, more in control, able to give my own commands. I learned
to stand up to the new Great Ruler so that his heavy handed behaviour meant little
or nothing. Best of all I was able to protect the women who would otherwise
have succumbed to his brutal ways. He thought nothing of shaving their heads if
they dared to outwit him or cutting off fingers and toes for greater sins,
betrayal being one of them. The Great Ruler possessed enough charm to lure the
younger women to a marriage bed, but once there they were subjected to the most
atrocious behaviour.
Whilst
Quamlo worried about it there was little he could do to save the women from
their fate if they fell for the false appeal. He was at a disadvantage because
of his size. In height he merely reached
the Great Ruler’s hip. So at Quamlo’s behest, I became established on the
council as Director of Women and Children. Consequently my battles with the
Great Ruler were numerous. The fact that women turned to me for help immediately
placed them as betrayers so I arranged a secret meeting place where they could
not be seen discussing their affairs with me.
The location
was on the far side of Jungos Mount, in a long forgotten cavern that had been
occupied and then deserted by nomads. The entrance was almost concealed by
unruly undergrowth; indeed I only discovered it when I tripped on a sturdy tree
root. Qualmo agreed that it was a good place for the women to go if they needed
help.
Confident
that my plan would be kept secret I arranged secret sessions at the cavern.
There were
many meetings with women who felt powerless to stand up to the Great Leader.
One of them, Heliona, a rather handsome girl, tall and willow thin, was one of
those to consult with us. Apart from a young son, she had no family and she was
having a hard time brushing off the Great Ruler’s advances. She had already
lost two fingers, both on the right hand, and she feared that more pain would
be inflicted unless she succumbed to his evil desires. Her son was unable to
help since on the nights she was sent for he was shackled to the wall of their
home.
After great
discussion, amidst tears and tantrums and nowhere near finding a solution I
suggested a consultation with the Wise Woman.
The Wise
Woman was known as Mylha but hardly anyone used her name. She was a genius.
Single handed she prepared potent and effective remedies for sickness and
disease, healing lotions for the blistered feet of wretches who were forced to
toil on stony ground, and aphrodisiacs for the Great Ruler. The latter were
said to be concocted from thistle juice and frog spawn flown in from Planet Earth.
Mylha kept a serpent in her stony yard. She
kept it for protection and that I could understand for who would dare to cross
a serpent?
The plan
was to remove the Great Leader by fair means or foul, with Quamlo’s help and
that of the Wise Woman. Ordinarily I am not vindictive or even malicious but
the plight of the women, and especially Heliona, was serious enough to take
drastic action.
We met
often in the cavern, which was considered a safe place. On those occasions
ideas were submitted on how best to dispose of the Great Ruler. After many
weeks of hard deliberation it was eventually agreed that only his demise could
save the women of Sol Vellow. My idea was to use the serpent but Mylha
disagreed. She decided that a tainted aphrodisiac would be a good idea. Since
the pilot of the space craft was a relative she would have no difficulty
getting the required items to mix into her brew, the brew that formed the basis
of the formula.
Together, Quamlo
and I spent many hours devising a plan. We would invite the Great Leader and
numerous other guests to dine with us to celebrate the legalisation of our
union. We had lived together long enough to know that we were well suited so an
exchange of rings at this time seemed not only appropriate but it provided an
excuse for a feast.
The Great
Leader would be guest of honour, and the women would act as hand maidens to his
entourage. Mylha, the Wise Woman, would also sit at the feast table as the Chief
Overseer was entitled to do.
The
preparations took two months. Much effort was put into polishing the gold
vessels which had once been in Umulo’s possession. It was thought they originated
from Planet Earth but no-one was entirely sure. It was too long ago. As well as
cleaning the house and making it pleasant for our guests, Mylha created a fashionable
atmosphere to the main room.
Many
ornaments were placed in strategic places. On a small marble bench she laid out
trays of highly perfumed flower petals, the secret of where she acquired them a
closely kept secret. In the centre of the table, opposite the place where the
Great Leader would sit, she deposited a wooden carving of a bowing serf which
she considered to be highly appropriate. She draped the ceiling with strings of
colourful lights, the sight of which evoked an elusive memory. Familiar, yet
unknown.
The room
took on such a distinctive appearance I could barely recall what it was like
before Mylha took over. She delighted in filling every space, a gap to her was
unthinkable. And there was one, an opening right between two ornamental shelves.
Spotting it, the Wise Woman cried in horror. ‘It is a bad omen,’ she cried. It
cannot be allowed. A vacant space leaves room for hostile intrusions. That was how
she came to change her mind about bringing the serpent to the gathering. The
basket in which it lived would be ideal for filling the gap.
On the day
itself Mylha’s serpent was brought in. Its basket was tall with a tight fitting
lid so that daylight and prying eyes were excluded. In its place between the
shelves, behind the Great Leader’s chair, it looked exactly right though I did
not care to think of the consequences should one of the serfs bump into it. Mylha
laid a small pipe alongside, explaining that it was the pipe with which she
would charm the snake.
Taking me
to one side, she explained her change of mind. The potion she had so carefully
prepared was not up to standard. A particular item had not arrived in the
consignment from Planet Earth which meant that without it the other ingredients
would not ferment. It was not clear to me since I do not possess the power of witches.
However, seeing my growing agitation that our plan would be ruined she quickly
assured me that the serpent would, in the end, play its part.
Since Mylha
often states that she doesn’t expect to live long it crossed my mind that this
might be the last occasion she charmed her pet from his basket. I remembered Quamlo’s
theory that only souls filled with wickedness need have fear. It must mean that
the Wise Woman and I should feel some apprehension for the malice in our hearts
concerning the Great Leader.
I discussed
the matter with Quamlo but he, whilst understanding my state of mind, persuaded
me that we were merely punishing the Great Leader for his cruelty to women. He
added that to allow him to continue brutalising, torturing and raping the
womenfolk would make us as evil as the man himself.
The
ceremony of union was conducted by Junson, a young man of 50 years and the son of
Heliona. Junson was dressed in loose, white clothes with an ornate sword
hanging from his waist. The sword was a symbol of union, although I was unable
to make the connection. He didn’t have to do much except to read lines from an
old book, but the placing of hands was important so Quamlo kept an eagle eye on
that part of the rite. Quamlo and I stood side by side and every time I turned
towards him I could see his surreptitious gestures. It made me smile with
affection. At the end of the reading Quamlo and I were declared truly bound in
legal confluence.
And so the
reception began. The Great Leader took charge of proceedings by inducing the
guests to partake of wine and make merry with each other. Having such freedom
was rare so the men took him at his word. The few women who did not join them
sat around as if they were waiting for something to happen. Passive, silent and
fearful.
Eventually
the Great Leader moved among them, tweaking ears and pulling hair. One woman
was pulled to her feet so that he could kiss her, another was forced to accept
his caress, and yet another was taken by him to the games room. Her cries could
be heard from where Quamlo and I were sitting. That was when Mylha decided to
act.
She moved
back to the banqueting table, picked up the Great Leader’s goblet and filled it
with an intoxicating substance. Upon his return from the games room the man was
invited to return to his place and enjoy the substance the Wise Woman held out
to him. Quamlo and I moved to sit nearer and I saw that as he tipped the goblet
back so the serpent’s head emerged from his basket. Mylha played a tuneless air
to encourage the serpent to rise forth and attach itself to the man’s back. The
Great Leader knew nothing about it until the creature slithered up his back and
bit his neck. With one drawn-out scream his flailing body fell onto the table.
Death was
quick. And there was much rejoicing. My guilt is hard to bear, more especially
since Mylha died at the same time. She was right about not living long and it
was her own serpent that killed her. Once it tasted blood there was no stopping
it. The creature was slain by Junson’s
single blade.
‘So be it,’
whispered Quamlo, as he led me away.
For several
days the memory of that awful time when Umulo was killed was uppermost in my
mind. The punishment was execution and I couldn’t help but wonder if the Wise
Woman’s death was her punishment for the present crime. If that was the case,
shouldn’t I and others have been punished given that we planned the killing.
It was a
tragedy all round but because of it the women now have the freedom Quamlo wanted
them to have, to speak their minds, to say No when they want to, and finally to
enjoy their lives on Sol Vellow. The Great Leader’s shadow is no more and my
mind is finally at rest. It had to be. For the sake of mankind.
Since that
time the population has grown, we have new babies, and new families. Quamlo is
our leader and although he got there by foul means the people have accepted
him. He is kind hearted but firm. People live by his rules and are grateful.
Heliona and I are good friends. We often visit the cave where Mylha’s body was
placed. We go there to pray and to offer our thanks for the risks she took on behalf
of womenfolk.
