The Great Escape Chapter 16, Part 4 of 12

The Great Escape
Chapter 16, Part 4 of 12

"Maybe I can make something else that will work," she said, "though it's not my field."

Solange moved on to something else: a collection of tools and men's clothes.

"I guess this is yours," she said to him.

The shoulder basket included his small toolbox, a geology testing kit with its acids and reagents, a small hammer and trowel, underwear, a whisky bottle, and two drinking glasses.

Ezra had planned to give away his clothes, but Samothea was well-supplied with men's clothes. The women here only wore soft leather thong underwear during their periods.

"Yes, will you take it with you, please?"

"I thought you'd send it to the Forest Camp," Solange replied.

"I originally intended to, but I've had a change of plan, and I will need the geology kit. Which of the Herders knows the Southern Mountains best?"

"Why?"

"Because the mountains are volcanic, like the White Mountains. Next month, when living among the Herders, I can search for the minerals that the Cloner Kits need. That is if it suits you."

"Sure. I had no other plan for you except sex. Any of the shepherds, especially Lorna and Vera, can guide you in the Mountains. Galatea would be best if I could spare her. It would be a good time for you to get to know her," she added musingly. Solange had kept Ezra and Wildchild's mother apart during his previous visit to the Herder tribe, but things were different now.

After loading the sleds, they sat down for lunch and gossiped. Solange ate quickly. She had something to say to Wildchild. She got up and invited the girl for a private talk. Wildchild agreed reluctantly. She followed Solange away from the camp.

It was natural for the horsewomen and ponies to walk to the watering hole.

"I've got something for you from your mother," Solange said.

Wildchild shook her head. She knew what it was and didn't want it.

"Samothea!" Solange protested.

Wildchild gave her an angry look.

"All right - Wildchild," Solange said softly. "You're eighteen. You're a woman in your own right.

You're free of your mother's control, but freedom should be generous. If you can't be friends with your mother, you should at least admit the honesty of her motives and take what is rightfully yours."

She held out a silver necklace with a beautiful pendant: a silver S swirling amid blue and red stones. Two tiny perfect pearls graced the tips of the S.

"It's not a gift, Wildchild. It belongs to your family. Your mother got it when she was eighteen, and now that you're eighteen, it's yours - until you have an eighteen-year-old daughter
yourself."

Still, Wildchild shook her head.

"Why don't you want it?"

Wildchild was silent.

"You're going to have to speak sometime, you know."

"I know why you don't talk," Solange continued: "I'm sorry for how Daina treated you, but she was chief at the time, and I wasn't even her deputy. At first, I thought she and your mother were right. It was only when you left that I reconsidered. So, I have that to apologize for."

Wildchild looked at her with new respect in her lucent green eyes.

"But nothing else."

Wildchild smiled. She was satisfied with half an apology. The truth was that she didn't blame Solange and was close to forgiving her mother. But she needed a good reason to break the rule she had made many years ago after a particularly harsh punishment: she would never speak to a Herder again.

She waited patiently for Solange to speak. Her face was blank, offering nothing, but she didn't run away as she might have done.

"I'm sorry your mother took your discipline too far," Solange said, "but you were a damned nuisance and out of control much of the time. You were willful and destructive. You fought with everyone and caused mayhem."

She smiled at Wildchild's defiant posture and spoke more softly.

"But I also know you were punished for being good, for protecting Yael, fighting against the tribe for what was right."

Under the previous chief, Daina, the Herders were bullied heavily. She had snatched Tamar and scared the gentle Woodlanders into refusing to trade with them. Daina kept the tribe wound up and aggressive, including Wildchild, who had done more than her fair share of fighting. She always defended Tamar and never allowed her to be bullied.

"You must understand what motivated Daina and your mother," Solange explained.

"Do you know what we do when a baby first takes an interest in solid food? We give her solid food to try. Do you know what we do when a child is first interested in horses? We put her on the back of a pony and let her try riding."

"So, when we see a child take responsibility, we give her more responsibility. In your case, we saw how you protected Yael and thought you were a potential leader, so your mother began to prepare you for ruling with extra tasks and discipline. I'm sorry it didn't work out as hoped, but that was why."

Wildchild made a gesture that meant "sex."

"You're right, of course. We don't encourage girls to have sex as soon as they show an interest in it. We forbid it until they're eighteen. That's because sex is a powerful drive. If you're like me, it's more powerful than all the other drives. We think an eighteen-year-old is more likely to control herself than a younger girl. I'm not sure why. Or maybe it's to protect younger girls from older women."

"In your case, your mother wanted to train you to be chief anyway."

Wildchild pointed at Solange.

"Yes, I also want you to be chief, but more than that, I want you to fulfill your potential. You were always strong, clever, and aggressive. But you're a woman now. Playtime is over."

"It's time to channel your aggression. On Earth, as Ezra says, there are many outlets for aggression, such as sports, business, art, science, sex, and politics. Here, we have only sex and politics. Well, you're only eighteen. The teenage years should be for fun, not for babies.

But if you're going to rule the planet, it's time to start training yourself."

Wildchild protested again.

"I know you don't want to rule, but you should. It's a difficult job, and doing something hard is more fulfilling than doing something easy. You know that."

"Even with training, you won't be ready for another four or five years, but I know you will want to govern. Your ambition will tug at you. You'll see the errors other people make and want to correct them. Not everyone who takes up the burden of leadership is suited to it. Some people are only ambitious, envious, or greedy. You have the makings of a better kind of leader. In their way, Daina and your mother knew that."

"At least they could see your brains and your pride. You'll develop the temperament. I've seen it happen in others with much less potential than you."

Wildchild's gesture meant, "I'm not a Herder."

"Yes, yes. You live among the Wood-elves and hunt pigeons. But you've got a Herder's soul: you grab life by the tits."

Wildchild's smile was not a contented one.

"I don't care what tribe you rule!" Solange exclaimed a little testily. "I care that you do something worthwhile with your life and do the best work you can!"

Solange continued with passion.

"You're an adult and responsible for yourself now. That means you must control yourself because no one else can."

"So, no more wild antics. No more destructiveness. No more tantrums. You've had your fun, but it's time to take up the burden of responsibility. The burden of power."

"You've been Wildchild long enough," she finished. "It's time to be Samothea."

There was silence as Wildchild stood deep in thought. What Solange said contained some profound truths. She did feel differently now. She regretted about half the fights she'd been in and more than half the damage she'd done. She might never really love her mother again, but she would be content to be reconciled to her. Most of all, she respected Solange, who seemed to care for her without apparently caring for anyone other than her bedmate, Ash.

Thinking like this, it was not long before Wildchild decided. Solange was a Herder with whom she could talk. She knew it was time to discard the childish rule about not speaking.

"How would you train me to be a chief?" she asked.

Solange smiled. It was the first time she'd communicated adequately with Wildchild and the first time she'd heard her speak in many years. She replied with one of her trademark changes of direction.

"I have a message for you from Gloria, chief of the Cloners."

Wildchild was stumped. There was no reason the Cloner Chief should know who she was.

"Gloria sends her greetings and, now you're eighteen, offers you a place among the Juniors."

Caught between astonishment and contempt, Wildchild settled on contempt. Megan had told her precisely what the Juniors were like. She indicated her clothes: her men's jeans, severed at the knee, and an oversized lumberjack shirt with sleeves rolled up and tails tied around her waist for extra breeze on the hot plain.

"Yes, I know you don't dress - or act - like a Junior," Solange admitted. "But that's why it will do you good. The Juniors are servants to the Councillors. They wash and dress them, wait on their table, and obey their orders."

Wildchild nodded a little impatiently. She knew this.

"I know you despise them, these girl-women who enjoy dressing up, putting on make-up, and having pillow fights."

Wildchild looked guiltily blank.

"But they are meek, obedient, and cheerful. They respond to slights and bossiness with kindness and patience. You're the opposite of a Junior. You're strong, willful, and aggressive, and don't accept insults. You could learn a lot by seeing how the Juniors resolve conflict without anger. It would be good for you to understand some of the women you might be ruling one day."

Wildchild's look was priceless.

"They're worth understanding if you want their votes, Wildchild, even if you don't learn to enjoy dressing up."

"How come Gloria thinks I'd make a good Junior?"

"Because I told her. I asked her to send you the invitation."

"This is part of my training?"

"A large part."

"And there's no ulterior motive?"

"Like what?"

"Are you planning a raid on the Cloner City and need an inside man?"

Solange laughed.

"Do you want to know a secret? I have no plan to attack their city, but when things became tense between the tribes a year ago, I was ready to break the Cloners economically. Then Gloria was elected chief, and things finally changed. Gloria's a wise owl. She bends like a reed so she won't snap like a twig. Under her leadership, the Cloners are friendly and willing to compromise. They can even be generous and self-effacing."

"For example, there was talk at the Cloner Fair of bringing back the position of Prefect of Samothea. You understand what that means?"

"Yes," Wildchild answered. "It means the Cloners would be subordinate to someone who might come from any of the tribes."

"Exactly! In four years or so, when Gloria stands for re-election, there might be an even higher position available, perhaps for someone young and ambitious."

Wildchild thought on that statement for a minute, then she said:

"I haven't decided anything, but can I have the necklace?"

"Let me put it on you. Your great-grandmother wore it. As you know, she was the first Prefect of Samothea."

Wildchild turned her back, and Solange put the necklace around her neck, clipping it together.

"You have beautiful hair, Wildchild. Why do you cut it short? When you're a Junior, you should let it grow."

Wildchild hid the necklace under her shirt, not wanting anyone to see her wearing jewelry, but she had something for Solange. She undid the holster on her thigh and handed over the hunting knife.

"For Mum," she said.

"Keep it," Solange replied. "I dare say she'd have given it to you if you'd only asked."

Wildchild gave her a sheepish grin. Solange returned a big smile.

"Off you go," she said, "but don't take too long to decide."

Wildchild released her horse from the hobble and jumped on its back. She galloped onto the plain and was gone an hour. By the time she trotted back, she'd decided to become a Junior.

The first person she told was Tamar. Everyone heard the peal of laughter. Then Carlin joined them, and there was more giggling as she caught up with the news.

Ezra was talking to Solange when they heard the merriment.

"I see that Wildchild has decided," she said.

"Decided what?"

"She's going to the Cloner City to learn how to be a girl," Solange explained with a wry smile.

"That's absurd," Ezra laughed. "Except for Tamar, whom she loves, and Carlin, who first taught her how to use a bow and arrow, Wildchild doesn't even like girls."

"Well, she'll have to learn how because she'll spend a year with the world's grisliest young women."

"You arranged this: you persuaded her? Is there anything you can't do?"

"I'll let you know when I find it."

Ezra laughed again, though he wasn't entirely sure Solange was joking.

When Wildchild told Ezra about her decision, she added:


To be continued