VIII
They returned to Pendor to find the planet in an uproar and the capital was full of farm workers eager to join up. As on every other world the population was flocking to the flag and taking military training, but Simla knew that the lack was not of willing soldiers but of ships and guns. And not the ships and guns of old, which had failed so miserably, but new and effective machines that would stop the Riaz.
She spoke to her father via Pendor's long distance transmitter and was shocked at the change in the Great Father. He was old, admittedly, but now his face was gaunt and his hair had whitened. "You witnessed it?" he asked.
"Yes father," Simla replied meekly, "and it should not be described as the Battle of Halven but the Massacre of Halven. Our ships never stood a chance."
"The Riaz said it was a diplomatic mission to Halven as the closest human inhabited world."
"Well, we know them for what they are now."
"We always suspected, they merely confirmed our worst expectations. Our ships will not challenge them again until we're ready."
"But that's just giving them an open invitation to invade."
"Our intelligence service doesn't think so. The Riaz domestic news reports only that they've encountered another primitive species. We're no threat to them so they expect to scoop us up in their own good time." "Will we be ready?" Simla asked, dreading the reply.
"Our shipyards are working flat out and we're bringing new technology online every day. They'll find us a tougher nut to crack than Halven."
"What do you want me to do?"
"It would be nice to have a Princess of Old Earth lead a fleet from Old Earth, but you're no soldier." An old argument raged again. "Because you wouldn't let me be one!"
Her father didn't rise to the bait. "I didn't see the need then, when you were so young. I never foresaw the Riaz and neither did you, young lady."
"I must be allowed to avenge Halven," Simla insisted.
"How so?"
"That fleet met their fate because they rose to greet me." She calmed. "Father, I'm prepared to join the military as an ordinary soldier. I will fight for Old Earth and the Twelve Worlds."
"I know, my little Simla, you were always a fighter. There will be a role for you in this war, don't doubt that, but let me think on it."
"There is another matter."
The Great Father seemed to sense what was coming. "Yes?" he asked flatly.
"You know that Shap's programming is flawed?"
"Yes, according to Dr Alrick. She thinks I was too strict in my command structure. Has he got worse?"
"No, but I've met the one."
"So soon? What house is he of?"
"He is not of any noble house, Father. But he is the First Minister of Pendor."
"And does he have a name, this First Minister of the farmers?"
"Yaf... Yaf Alrick."
The Great Father nodded. "I've heard the name. He is well thought of, an intelligent man. But Shap's malfunction must wait till the present crisis is over."
"Of course. I just wanted to let you know."
"You do not disappoint me, my daughter. I will speak to you soon." And his image faded from the holo monitor and Simla felt like a little girl again, missing her father already as he departed on some long trip.
Elfi, of course, was delighted to have her 'little sister' back with her and fussed endlessly over the trauma Simla must have suffered at seeing the Helvans humbled. But Simla was more concerned with what the petite doctor had discovered about Yaf's phasing problem.
"Oh, missing your midnight visitor?" Elfi asked pertly.
"He may be the only man I ever have, if you don't fix Shap. Honestly, you scientists are hopeless. A crazy android and a wraith-like lover, and you can't fix either."
"I could fix both if they'd let me take their heads off. That's where both their problems lie. Shap just needs his programming tweaked and Yaf needs to have his neural synapses strengthened, though we don't know how to do that yet."
"Hopeless!"
"If I could fix Shap, Yaf wouldn't have to be a ghost."
"So he was just an illusion?"
"Stop worrying about your precious virginity."
"Damn my virginity. Have I made love to a man or not?"
"Did you enjoy it?"
"What's that got to do with it? You enjoy fantasy on a regular basis, but it doesn't stop you throwing it aside when the real thing's available."
"Touché. Simla, I'm your friend and I will turn my best efforts to sorting your love life as soon as I can, but I have other priorities just now."
Simla decided to leave it. "Anything I can help with?"
"No, not unless you can find a way to mass produce Shap's armour on a battleship scale. Oh, and on a farming world with hardly any heavy industry too."
Simla felt suddenly sorry for inflicting her petty complaint on Elfi. But her tiny mentor had always been so tough and able to take it in the past. "You poor lamb, you look exhausted."
Elfi grinned. "Those burly farmers take a lot of looking after."
"No, after you've been making love, which is most nights I imagine, you glow. Now, you just look drained."
"To be honest with you I don't have the energy for sex, which is a first in my lustful career. But I've never faced up to an alien empire before."
Simla gave her a hug. "You're not alone, big sister. We'll fight this alien scum together, Simla and Elfi, daughters of Old Earth!"
Elfi returned her hug but turned back to her computer impatiently. "I'm sorry, Simla, I have work to do."
"Oh, if only I had something I could get my teeth into."
"Yaf?"
"I wish."
"I wonder how Shap would react if Yaf lay totally motionless and you made love to him."
"Oh God, you're right, he couldn't see that as a threat," Simla squealed, "I could have my evil way with him."
"I'm thinking of his programming, slut, not your pleasure. Will his 'reject mate' sub-routine kick in or not. It's an interesting proposition."
"So you don't think I should try it?"
"Not if you value Yaf's life."
"Why don't we just ask him?" She turned to her guardian. "Shap, if I made physical contact with Yaf while he was immobile would you regard that as an assault on my person?"
The android seemed to be caught unready to be addressed. "No, mistress, assault requires physical action and your parameters specify that First Minister Alrick is immobile."
"And how would you react?"
"I would remove the First Minister from the premises as he has already been adjudged to be an unsuitable mate for you."
"What if I were to tell you your programming was at fault in its judgment?"
"That would not be possible, my programming cannot be at fault."
"Oh leave him alone," Elfi insisted, "he wasn't designed to be reasoned with."
"Just like his creator," Simla sniffed, "but it was worth a try,"
The holo-phone chimed and it was Yaf with an invitation for Elfi. "You're invited to the Fertility Festival in our Central Hall tonight, Doctor."
Elfi raised an eyebrow, "Really, I'm too busy."
"Oh, you should go," Simla encouraged, "you could do with a break."
"Yeah, Doc, my people tell me you've worked three nights straight."
"Oh, so I'm being spied on now?" Elfi said, insulted.
"We're at war and you're a valuable asset, you're being protected."
"Fertility Festival eh?" Elfi mused, "What exactly does it entail?"
"Fertility's very important on an agricultural world like Pendor. It's a celebration of the fecundity of our land."
Simla pouted. "Why just Elfi? Aren't the First Minister and a Princess of Old Earth invited?"
Yaf looked embarrassed. "To be honest it tends to descend into a bit of an orgy."
"Ooh, orgy!" Elfi squealed.
Yaf continued, "And I don't think it would do either of us any good to get too carried away."
Simla looked insulted. "I can control my passions, sirrah, even if you cannot."
"You're not the one being threatened with death at Shap's hands at the first sign of excitement."
"How many people are at this festive orgy?" Elfi asked.
"Oh, around 500."
"I've never seen 500 people making it."
"They don't all just pile in."
"Oh boo."
"It's a very structured performance. There's music, drinking and eating but it's the dancing that usually kicks it off. The dancing degenerates into fumbling and inevitably couple pair off and start doing what people do."
"Couples? Where's the orgy in that?" Elfi complained. "I bet they have a dance card like they do at balls? Could I book you for the next knee trembler, Countess?"
"For God's sakes, woman, it's a celebration of fertility and you can only get pregnant once."
"Not strictly true, but I have no intention of getting pregnant at all. I don't intend starting a family till I'm well into my fifties."
"In any case," Yaf explained, "It generally starts off as single couples but multiple partnerships generally just develop organically."
"We're going," Simla declared, "I want to watch Elfi taking on thousands."
"You're a pervert."
"You taught me everything I know."
The pair grinned at each other like Cheshire cats and Yaf despaired. "I don't think this is a good idea, Simla. The atmosphere is very intense at these occasions and we don't know what might happen."
"What might happen is I might get turned on. Tragedy."
"I am not having her getting her rocks off watching me," Elfi complained.
"You could give me pointers with your years of experience."
"No! No! No!"
But Yaf was on Simla's side. "Mmm, that might be interesting, I've never seen a noted technocrat totally loose before. Okay, Simla, we'll go, but Shap sits between us."
"Yeah, what's the dress code?"
"For spectators, smart casual. For participants, as little as possible."
The Festival started as calmly as a tea party. Ranks of tables were set around a dance floor in the great hall and uniformed waiters served food and drink to the gathered guests. Elfi, in the official limousine coming over from their guest quarters in the Presidential Palace had been on edge.
"What's the protocol, Yaf? I've never been to an orgy before and I don't want to commit any gaffes by kissing the wrong guy."
"There's no strict protocol, only accepted practice. Anyone taking to the floor to dance is offering themselves for sexual pleasure. Beyond that the usual rules apply, you can take a partner or refuse him. Same with any act he proposes. Take it or leave it, it's up to you."
"Knowing Elfi, she'll take it," Simla contributed.
"So I can say no if some ugly, fat guy tries ..."
"Absolutely."
"That's a relief. I had visions of me having to make it with some very unpleasant characters."
"Never stopped you before."
"Would you pair stop bitching at each other. The accepted practice is also to return to your seat for a while after any sexual encounter before accepting another invitation."
"No shower? That's yucky."
"It's a Festival of Fertility, not Hygiene. Most people get turned on by mixing fluids and smells, but if you're fastidious there are facilities."
"What am I allowed in the way of audience participation?" Simla asked.
Yaf eyed her nervously. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I was thinking of whooping and hollering when Elfi scores a home run. Maybe a little cheering at some fine show of sexual technique and slow handclapping when she screws up by passing out from sheer exhaustion."
Yaf groaned. "This is a solemn occasion, Simla, so please treat it with the proper respect. Non-participants are expected to drink, dine and converse politely."
"God, I could do that at home."
"Yeah," Elfi giggled, "but you wouldn't be looking at my sweet little ass at your own dining table."
As it happened there was quite a delay before Elfi got to bare her behind. A host type made a welcoming speech from a stage at one end of the hall before introducing an orchestra who played classical music from Old Earth. The food they were served was excellent but light, this was not an occasion for stuffed bellies. But it came endlessly, accompanied by carafes of thin red wine, so that it was a while before they noticed that couples were taking to the floor to dance.
Simla nudged Elfi and gestured with a nod of her head. "Prepare to receive boarders."
The normally confident Elfi seemed to shrink. "I don't know about this, I'm not really an exhibitionist."
"Cold feet, honey? I'm sure some of these guys would be glad to rub them for you."
Yaf sipped from his wine and smiled. "I don't think its her feet they'll want to rub."
Elfi blanched a little. "So if somebody asks me to dance, it really means they want to have me?"
"Yep, just like a normal dance, only not as hypocritical."
Waiters began bringing mattresses and throwing them down at one side of the dance floor but, for the moment, nobody was taking up their invitation.
"Jeeze," Elfi complained as the minutes passed and no invitations came her way, "have I got the plague or something?"
"Too old," Simla crowed, "all the pretty young ones are getting asked."
"This dates back to the first colonists on Pendor, who would come from settlements across the planet to the Festival to find a bride," Yaf explained.
".And now they just want to find a good time," Simla added.
The tone changed as the lights dimmed a little. A tall brunette went into a clinch with a burly man and he was soon clawing at her as their mouths found each other.
"The old ones will have a chance now they've turned the lights down," Simla said.
"Bitch," Elfi hissed in reply.
The burly man had dropped to his knees and was lifting his partners long scarlet dress to her hips. She was still dancing, but naked beneath it her long white legs shimmered.
Simla crossed her legs and sipped her wine. "Mmm, this is better than a holo flick."
The brunette lifted her dress herself and pulled it over her head before throwing it to the floor. She had large, full breasts and they swung proudly free as she swayed. A waiter lifted her dress and deposited it on a mattress. At the edge of the floor a thin blonde in a mini dress had spread herself around her partner and was gyrating on top of him. His hands, clutched around her miniscule behind, moved up and down in encouragement.
"Ooh, this is educational," Simla trilled.
Elfi was getting turned on too, but frustration had led her to attack the wine with a vengeance. Would nobody ever ask her to dance?
An older woman, with a heavy undulating bottom, had not bothered with any display on the dance floor, but had taken her younger companion by the hand directly to the mattresses.
An old, withered looking man came over and invited Simla with an outstretched hand. She smiled sweetly and shook her head. Once he'd moved on she grinned madly at Elfi. "At least I've been asked."
But moments later she felt sorry for her friend and a wild thought came to her. She stretched across Shap and nudged Yaf in the ribs. "Take her on the floor, Yaf"
The First Minister looked startled. "What? I can't."
"Yes you can. She needs to."
Elfi winced. "Thanks for the offer, but I don't need your cast offs."
"He's had the hots for you since he first saw you,"
Simla lied. "Simla!" Yaf hissed and Elfi wondered if he was admonishing her for her betrayal.
"Go on, take her. You know you want to. She's so tiny and cute. I won't mind, honest."
"Uh uh, I'm not stupid. You might let me do it now, but some way down the line you'd be accusing me of loving your best friend."
"It may be the closest we ever get, Yaf."
There was a sad truth in her tone and they all sat in silence, contemplating the situation. Fate decreed that it was not to develop as a slim, boyish, man with almost-albino white hair approached and offered his hand to Elfi. As he led her to the floor Yaf turned to Simla. "Would you have let me ...?"
"I'd have killed you."
"Thought so."