The Great Escape Chapter 17, Part 5 of 8

The Great Escape
Chapter 17, Part 5 of 8

Yumi wondered at that.

"Even then. What did you mean when you said you asked Solange's permission?"

"Solange owns me. I have to ask her if I want sex with anyone else, and anyone who wants sex with me must ask her first."

"Solange owns you. Like property, like an animal?"

"Sort of, but much better. Don't you want to belong to someone, to have someone care for you and keep you by her, for herself?"

"Not like that, though - I suppose - when I wanted to marry Michio, I thought he and I would belong to each other. I suppose I wanted him to own me, but I would own him just as much."

"That's nice, owning each other," Ash said in a conciliatory way, though she didn't believe it.

She pulled Yumi to her, and they intertwined their legs, pressing their naked breasts and bellies against one another, snuggling close to share their warmth against the freezing night air that blew through the cracks in the door of the hut as hail bounced heavily on the roof.

Ash was a simple girl. She was not stupid or slow on the uptake but open-hearted, trusting, and faithful, except when it amused her to tease Solange by pretending not to be. She was sure that, sometime that month, Yumi would want to do more than just cuddle at night. She kissed Yumi on the cheek, rested her head on her shoulder, and shut her eyes to sleep.

Hazel felt dissatisfied in Cloner City at this time—not unhappy, but not as joyful as she knew she should be.

It was Wildchild who discomforted her—unintentionally, of course. Not that Wildchild was unhappy herself. The opposite, in fact: she had rarely been happier, laughing and joking with the Juniors, taking genuine pleasure in all her new duties. Now, she no longer cared how silly they seemed.

Wildchild was so content that she even allowed Hazel to hug her twice daily, morning and night.

In almost every way, Wildchild was a good girlfriend. Eager to learn and keen to experience new things, she indulged Hazel's enthusiasm for clothes, jewelry, and all the trivial prettifications that were Junior's brief career privileges. She forced Hazel to brush her hair daily and occasionally apply make-up to her innocently pretty face. However, her hair always got messed up again, and the make-up accidentally washed itself off when Hazel wasn't watching.

For her part, Wildchild taught Hazel how to ride and use her bow. They tended to the horse twice daily and often took her for strenuous gallops.

There were four Juniors, and there was plenty of spare time, especially in the afternoons, when most of the councilors enjoyed a post-prandial nap, and Gloria sat in her room reading.

So Wildchild was a good girlfriend but a bad bedmate. Hazel's frustration was sexual.

Wildchild enjoyed kissing, but she never held Hazel's hand in public. Her daily hugs were brief, like those one might give a friend, not a lover.

They never slept together, not even for warmth. Sometimes, Wildchild would lie on the bed with Hazel, and they would kiss or hold hands, but when they began to doze off, Wildchild retired to her nest on the floor. Hazel blamed herself for them not yet having had sex. After all, she was the experienced one.

However, some remoteness about Wildchild held her back. Maybe it was something pure and pristine in the girl. Indeed, she was entirely innocent. She had never even masturbated. Most of the Herders enjoyed a pussy-rubbing stimulus from horseback riding, and many of them had achieved orgasm that way. But Wildchild never mentioned this. They never talked about sex, which was unprecedented for teenage girls.

Hazel ran her hand along Wildchild's thigh the first few times they kissed properly, but Wildchild didn't return the caress. Nor did she pull away. It was the same when Hazel gently passed her fingers over one of Wildchild's small breasts. Hazel imagined she was going too fast, but Wildchild neither pulled back nor showed that she wanted more. She was content to kiss as much as Hazel wanted but voluntarily went no further.

It was peculiar and frustrating, but Hazel was confident and believed Wildchild would come around eventually.

However, schooling herself in patience wouldn't work much longer. Next month, Hazel will be nineteen, after which she will leave the Juniors, reducing their time together. Something that had recently happened made Hazel jealous of Gloria.

It began when Wildchild was in her third week as a Junior.

At the end of the first week, Hazel and Wildchild had become girlfriends. They always spent the next week in each other's company. Hazel was flushed with love and content to wait for Wildchild to be ready for sex. Meanwhile, Jenna and Preeda were in a particularly horny mood and disappeared every night to a spare bedroom to make love. Even this didn't encourage Wildchild.

The herders came for the monthly trade at the end of the second week. Galatea led them, and when the exchanges were complete, the Juniors served them tea in the Council Hall.

Wildchild was wearing a frilly pink dress. Her jet hair cascaded in shiny ringlets down her neck. She entered the Chamber with a tray and presented the tea to the seated women. Then, with a barely noticeable hesitation, Wildchild curtsied prettily to her mother. Galatea nodded a greeting in return and forced herself not to smile in case her pleasure was misinterpreted. She was still walking on eggshells around her daughter.

The potentially embarrassing moment passed, and the meeting was a success.

After which, Wildchild always curtsied to Galatea, and Galatea smiled and nodded to her daughter. They even spoke politely.

In the third week, Gloria and Wildchild became friends.

During quiet afternoons, while the other councilors napped and Madam Scientist tinkered in her laboratory, one of the Juniors would bring Madam Gloria a glass of fruit juice and some biscuits on a tray to her room. As usual, the Cloner Chief sat on her sofa, reading a book.

On the day it was Wildchild's turn to bring the refreshments, she knocked and entered the apartment, carrying a tray expertly in one hand.

"Set it on the coffee table, please," Gloria said.

Wildchild put the tray next to a chess set with the pieces for a half-finished game. While she waited for Gloria's orders, Wildchild looked at the chessboard. It was left over from Friday night when Gloria and Sally, Madam Scientist, played their weekly game.

When she finished her page and looked up from the book, Gloria asked, "Can you play chess, Samothea?"

"No, Madam."

"But it interests you? Would you like to learn the rules?"

"Yes, Madam, I would."

"Very well. Sit down, and I'll show you how to play - that is, if you have no more chores to do."

"No, Madam. After this, I'm free until dinner."

"Very good."

Gloria explained the rules of chess and the movements of the pieces, then set up the pieces to start a new game.

"Are you ready to try?" she asked.

"Yes, Madam."

"Very well. White goes first."

Half a minute later, Wildchild lost her first chess game to a fool's mate. She wanted to try again immediately, and next time, she did better, losing in a dozen moves.

They played another three games. Each game took more moves and more time per move, so Gloria could genuinely congratulate Wildchild on being a quick study and having some feel for tactics by the end.

"Thank you for the games, Samothea. Will you return the pieces as they were for my game with Sally?"

"Yes, Madam."

Wildchild shut her eyes, conjured up the memory, and unhesitatingly put the pieces in place, unaware that Gloria was watching her closely. She had no idea what a fantastic feat of memory she'd just performed, and Gloria chose not to tell her for now.

"Would you like to play another time, Samothea?"

"Yes, please, Madam."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes, Madam."

"Then you can bring me my fruit juice every afternoon, and we will play for an hour."

Wildchild collected the tray, curtsied, and left the Cloner chief to her book.

They started to play regularly, and then Hazel began to become jealous. Gloria hogged Wildchild in the afternoons that Hazel and she had previously shared, yet Wildchild seemed happy, telling her girlfriend how much she enjoyed learning chess. Hazel took this at face value, but deep inside; it made her wonder how much Wildchild loved her back. When she asked Wildchild what she thought of Gloria, Wildchild innocently replied: "I like her very much," which didn't ease Hazel. She suffered another week of increasing discomfort.

After a fortnight of lessons, the players spent the whole session on just one game. For the first time, Wildchild played Gloria to a stalemate. Gloria smiled as she watched Wildchild restore the pieces to their original positions for her game against Sally.

"So, Samothea," Gloria asked, "what should Sally's next move be?"

"Is it fair to ask me, Madam? What if Madam Scientist makes the same move? You'll be prepared?"

"True, but I'm interested to see if there's any difference in how you and Sally see the game. If you don't want to play the move, give me your assessment."

Wildchild looked at the board and concentrated.

"It's not your usual tactics, Madam."

"Go on."

"I know you favor your rooks. You usually protect them, but here, you've sacrificed a rook for a knight or a bishop."

"It was the bishop," Gloria admitted.

"You've made a queen swap, and you're losing four pawns to three, which you don't normally allow. Also, it was your right-hand rook, but you favor the right; you attack more from there than from the left. So, I suspect you're getting ready to launch a feint from the left, using the bishop and knight, then you'll probably castle and attack down the middle."

Gloria smiled.

"Well, I won't do that now because I'm sure my tactics are as transparent to Sally as they are to you. But I notice you see the game in patterns, not pieces."

"Yes, Madam. I see that you've pointed it out now. I see weak and strong areas of the board and the stance of the pieces as shapes. Your bishop and knights are a wedge threatening Madam Scientist's right corner, but after your castle, they will join the rook to make an arrow down the center.

Madam Scientist's knight, rook, and central pawns defend your attack, making a wall."

"Very well put. I'm afraid I'm not as gifted as you. I see the individual pieces and try to think ahead a few steps, but you're seeing the whole board.

I won't be surprised in a month or two when you regularly beat me."

"Is that a psychological tactic, Madam, trying to lure me into over-confidence?"
Gloria laughed.

"No, an honest assessment. I'm very impressed with you, Samothea, and finding someone better than me is a real pleasure. I play all the women here, hoping to find a superior, but Sally is the only one who plays regularly. We're too evenly matched, and that's only because she's too impatient to concentrate."

Gloria leaned back on her chair and relaxed.

"Do you know that chess is a metaphor for warfare, Samothea?"

"Yes, Madam."

"But it makes you think. Why do the bishops move in diagonals?"

"I don't know, Madam. I don't know what a bishop is."

"A bishop is the chief of a religious sect."

It was the nearest she could explain. It reminded Wildchild of something.

"A religious sect, like a church?" she asked.

"Yes, exactly. How did you know?"

"Ezra mentioned churches when we first met."

"Well, you'll know that churches are meant to be peaceful, so why is there a bishop in the
middle of the war?"

"I don't know. Please tell me?"

"The bishops were originally sailing ships, and their diagonal paths represent 'tacking,' which is how ships move against the wind."

"I see," Wildchild said. It made her think of the Mariners.

"Knights are horsemen, of course," Gloria added, and, of course, Wildchild thought of the Herders.

"What do you think of the castles?" she asked, her large brown eyes observing Wildchild closely, waiting to see the light bulb turn on again in the girl's head.

"A castle is a stone fortress," Wildchild said.

"Correct."

"Then how come castles can move, and why do they move in straight lines?"

"Do you know what the platform on the back of a fighting elephant is called, where the archers
and spearmen stand?"

"Is it a 'castle'?"

"It is. So, we have ships, horses, elephants, many foot soldiers who rush forward with their spears, a king who stays close to home, whom the other side wants to capture, and a queen, a mere woman, the most powerful piece of all. What do you think of her, Samothea?"

"I've thought about the queen before, Madam. Chess comes from Earth, doesn't it?"

"It does."

"Then is the most powerful piece on Earth the king, and is the queen the prize? Maybe we swapped those two pieces here to reflect our female society."

"An interesting theory, Samothea, but curiously wrong. The queen is the most powerful piece on Earth, and the king is the prize."

"I see."

Wildchild paused to reflect on that information item, though it made little sense.

"The metaphor is inaccurate," she judged, "because, in a real war, the pieces are moved by other pieces, not an outside hand."

"Very good. There is a hierarchy of command, from the General to senior officers down to junior officers and infantry."

"Is the king a General?"

"Yes."


To be continued