XCVII – dreams and remembrance

18 June, 2009 by llhaesa

Just over two weeks before, Jahrae had come face to face with Mohammed Omar in a remote Afghani village. Jahrae tentatively responded to a request to meet and forge some compromise, one that would allow the Taliban to give up its fight for Afghanistan, yet safe face.

Although suspected of insincerity, llhaesa, who first received the request, and Jahrae decided to proceed, just in case the Taliban request was legitimate. Simply, it was worth a shot.

With Omar now in Arrhazonan custody, Jahrae decided she wished to meet with him, perhaps try and better understand his logic, or perhaps it was just out of some lingering feeling of annoyance over her two days of captivity.

The first indication of changed circumstance was seeing two soldiers standing guard outside the designated conference room. Arrhazonan soldiers primarily served in peaceful endeavours, although the government occasionally called upon them to provide police duties. This was such a time.

Jahrae warmly greeted the guards, one of whom released the locked door, allowing her to enter the conference room. Omar sat calmly in one of the indentations of the unique scallop-sided table, indentations that gave each person added table space to either side of them. “Good morning, Mr Omar, she offered, while simultaneously pulling out and settling into a chair across from the Taliban leader.

Omar said nothing, intentionally focusing his attention away from Jahrae.

“When last we chatted, you made some interesting claims,” Jahrae began, mentally noting that advanced Arrhazon medical technology had healed his broken arm.

“You said something about equality as illusion, along with a ranting that the universe is full of examples of stronger and weaker. You cited me as an example of weak, or specifically, my gender.

Yet you are now here due to the efforts of a team consisting entirely of women. You were defeated in your deceit by my 17-year-old daughter, who disarmed you in one instant.

I wonder if the last two weeks lead your thoughts away from the madness you attempt to bring to Afghanistan.”

Omar continued staring away, unwittingly diverting his gaze towards a print in the background, a collage of llhaesa performing and advocating. Jahrae saw the print when she came in, and seeing where he looked she felt an urge to smirk, but managed to hold it off.

“Your daughter has no honour,” he mumbled, finding nothing else to say, knowing even as he muttered it this was yet another lie voiced as false bravado.

“You were disingenuous and deceitful, first by taking me as captive, and second when you pulled that knife as we squared off to fight. You know it, I know it, and my daughter knows it, Omar.

Addison is every bit her mothers’ daughter, most especially llhaesa. You would not fare well against either, and of course, you found that out in a three-second period.

Had you tried a different approach, well, intellectually she would best you. You can pretend as if trickery defeated you, but…you were no match, none of your group is a match for those seeking peace, freedom, and equality. What you believe in methodology of governance is delusional, not supportive of the people, nor reflective of the people.

I reminded you of our accomplishments on our home world, but you chose to scoff at that history, you chose to ignore that history, and…you lost. Four women defeated your gang of 22 soldiers. There is one thing I wish you to remember as you sort out your future path; it is that point, that four women believing in the ideals I mentioned defeated 22 of you. Remember that, as well as one more: bigoted despots always lose in the end, Omar.

Think about this. If our world were equal 20 years ago, llhaesa would be a peerless, world-renowned musician, and I a government bureaucrat. Introduce a bigoted despot into that mix, and what unfolded?

The people of Afghanistan do not want what you wish to impose. They wish to join the world and move forward into the 21^st century, collaborating with our and other worlds.

Are you going to hold tight to those tired and warped views, or are you going to try to learn, try to become a productive citizen?

Aside from the one mumbled answer, Omar held to his silence.

“Very well,” Jahrae rose from her chair, ready to take her leave. “You will be returned to Afghani custody tomorrow.”

“You cannot do that,” he casually remarked, a flicker of triumph in his expression. “The nation has a death penalty.”

“While I disagree with the death penalty, we have nothing on which to challenge your extradition. You declined Arrhazonan counsel initially and each day since. Do you desire counsel, Mr Omar?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, our conversation ends. I will send a solicitor to you straight away.”

Jahrae walked out of the room, immediately using her mobile as she walked the corridor, asking Commander H’ahlser to send counsel to represent Mohammed Omar.

She knew he would eventually change his mind on counsel, once she played the extradition card. Jahrae did not intend to send the man to his death, but he needed someone to represent him in legal affairs. Now that was in place.

Folding and putting away her mobile, she reached the lift, calling for a ride to deck 12. Waiting, Jahrae thought on how Omar, as with Brellian, were but boisterous shells hiding behind power, harming others. Once directly challenged, they proved paper tigers.

Reaching her flat, Jahrae crashed onto the bed, feeling like a nap was a great idea. Llhaesa was down at the lake, while Addie was with Ronnie in Boston, shopping.

A momentary whim washed over her, an inspiration that she waive protocol and take Chekresu down to be with llhaesa. She decided that could wait; a nap was a damn fine idea.

Sleep claimed Jahrae inside of fifteen minutes. Not at all apprehensive when she lay atop the bed, she nonetheless knew that the tumultuous events of the last two weeks might well show in dreams; they had the last two nights. Alas, she was wrong to suspect they would claim her yet again.

Jahrae found herself in Henna, in Ronnie’s home. No one else was there, and she checked each room to verify she was alone.

After checking the bedrooms upstairs, Jahrae returned to the kitchen, where she found a short note she would swear was not there at the beginning of her search.

Jahrae,

I have gone in search of myself. I went missing two years ago, and no one has ever found me, perhaps I will have better success.

Please be well, and may our paths one day cross again, when I am me and you are you.

Love,

Tim

Not quite believing the note, knowing there was something not quite right about the message, she picked it up, reading a second time, as if closer inspection would reveal a missed detail or a different name.

She took to the living room and settled onto the first chair she came upon, sweat almost instantaneously forming on her forehead and neck. “What does it mean?” she wondered, confused.

The confusion gave way to a driving rain, Jahrae now walking along mostly abandoned sidewalks, the usual foot traffic preferring drier weather and accommodations.

She cared not their preferences and peculiarities, the rain felt soothing, comforting, the clarion call of an elusive truth of which she sought. The rain relentlessly struck at her hair, her face, her body, and each striking drop brought a message of comfort.

The town was familiar; she had been here before, once, although she remained uncertain. “That building and that building and that building” she thought, “I know them all.”

One of them was important, but which one? What if she got it wrong and chose the wrong one, could she choose again?

With this new worry added into the mystery, she picked up her pace, walking toward one building, ironically uncertain of why she acted decisively. She did not wish to make the wrong choice, but she still moved to choose.

Reaching the building, she pondered its significance. Modest in size, a restored building originally constructed a century earlier, there were but a few storefronts, with a middle entry door leading to the second floor.

The second floor felt right. Nearing this entry point, a sign, one factual but unassuming, called out her purpose. “Up a level you might find the questions to your answer,” the sign read. Somehow, it made sense.

She was in an office, not remembering climbing the stairs to reach it. “What is my answer? I have no answers,” she lamented, growing frustrated, sinking to the floor.

A dog walked in, sort of coloured like a collie, but far larger. The dog stopped and stared, curious to find this unexpected floor-dweller in his usual territory.

“What is my answer?” Jahrae asked the dog, trying to bring humour into her despair.

“Your answer is that which you feel within you,” the dog replied, leaving Jahrae with her mouth agape.

“But…I feel lots of things!” she cried, instantaneously self-admonishing for screaming at the helpful dog.

The dog moved closer, until he could reach out and lick her face, which he did. Jahrae giggled at the strange feel of his sandpapery slurps, but she did not push him away. He backed off on his own accord, having delivered his friendly and wet message.

“What is it you carry with you always?” the dog mused, attempting to prod Jahrae to thought. “What is it you hold tight to, and will never let go of?”

“L-love?”

The dog said nothing and left the room.

“What questions go with love?” she wondered, thinking this was some great puzzle.

“I love my family, my wife, my children, everyone. I have never stopped loving them!”

The dog was back.

“Is there someone you never met that you love, or that you are not certain you love?” he asked just before picking up a rope chew toy and settling to the floor to enjoy exercising his teeth.

“How could I love someone I never met?” Jahrae thought, not yet ready to ask the dog. Looking for another clue, she asked, “Why does this place look familiar?”

“Now you begin to ask the questions to your answer,” the dog guided after letting go of his favourite plaything. It was almost as if he called out ‘you are getting warmer’. Somehow, the dog heard the first question as well.

“How would I even know? I know but a few in relation to the many. I cannot solve this puzzle,” Jahrae felt almost hopeless – but not quite. Something stirred within as she looked up and around the room, taking in the waiting area chairs, the corridor to a conference room, an administrative assistant’s desk, and around the corner, if she got up she knew there would be an office.

Therapy. Specifically, this was an office, the office of Tim’s therapist, Dolores.

Tim.

Jahrae watched as the dog took to all fours, and proudly sprinted off with the rope toy, down the hall and out of sight. Instinctively, she knew she was on her own.

“Tim,” she rolled the name over in her mind, pondering Tim. Jahrae never met Tim, well she knew Tim as llhaesa before and after, but she never met Tim.

Someone else called out in her head. “I served good purpose,” a soft-spoken male voice pointed out.

“Who are you?” Jahrae wondered, only in her thoughts.

“I am he that you seek.”

“I haven’t sought out anyone, I’m sleeping!” Jahrae protested.

“Are you?”

“You love your wife, love her with all of her being, but…you have never given me my due.”

“But…but…you were not real, you were a fabrication that kept llhaesa away from her true self!”

“It was not I that kept her from these things, it was others. I had no choice, they made me cover her, and then they didn’t even tell me that I held her hostage. I did not know!” Tim shouted the last sentence, feeling guilt for unwittingly suppressing llhaesa.

“I could never have lived with myself if I knew such a beautiful soul as llhaesa was taken from life, that my existence was expressly for that purpose,” Tim continued, calmer now.

“I wish her no harm, I wish you no harm; quite the opposite actually. I root for both of you, for the children, every day.”

“Can…can I see you?” Jahrae asked, knowing there was no one around her.

“You may,” the voice spoke from a different direction, from one of the waiting area chairs. Jahrae turned, seeing Tim sitting there, dry, not wet as she was. Taking to her feet, Jahrae shifted to a chair adjacent to Tim.

“I am sorry…Tim. I never thought of things that way. Of course you meant no harm, you knew not there was someone there to harm.”

“Right. I guess now I can say I love llhaesa; in fact, I am proud of her, and proud of you; and the girls, yikes!

The courage they showed in the face of the truth, embracing llhaesa as their parent, yet still keeping their memories of me, melding the stories together, sorting out why I torment consumed me, why 51 Pegasi called to me in the night sky. They are both beautiful, responsible, caring children.

More than anything, Jahrae, I hope you can find a way to think of me fondly; I tried my best, even to the end, to ripping myself open to set llhaesa free.

I must go now, and you take care. Please know I carry love for you close to my heart.”

Tim walked a short distance to the entrance and turned, disappearing into the hall. Jahrae sprinted out after him, but he was gone.

She was back in Henna now, back in Ronnie’s home, looking at the note in her hand, the note written by Tim. A cursory glance initially failed to register the change. Something was different, though. She looked again.

Jahrae,

I am of a place where the only thing that matters is love. I am in all of your hearts, yours as well as Ronnie, Addison, Sérada, and llhaesa. You know of me, you think of me, you know my intent was honourable, and I got her back to you. Later than I would have liked, but…I got it done.

Sweet dreams,

Tim

Jahrae swore the note said something different when she first saw it, but in reality, she felt different.

Her mobile rang off, pulling her thoughts away from the note. The note faded out of her hand, as did Ronnie’s kitchen, the one constant the continuing signal from the mobile.

Jahrae opened her eyes, her mind adjusting, taking in surroundings, establishing a sense of place. She stretched across the bed to her nightstand, fumbling for her mobile, only to have it squirt out of her hand, dropping off onto the floor.

Needing more effort now, she slid her legs over the side, reaching down with her left hand, finally gaining purchase on the mobile.

She brought it up to answer, only to find the call go off to voice mail. Flipping it open, she saw the call was from llhaesa, and wishing to speak with her, she hit redial.

“There you are,” llhaesa answered, an impish tone in her voice. “I’m sitting down here with Jamie, having an early afternoon margarita. What would it take for me to entice my wife down here to enjoy one with us?”

“Well, I would guess you already did.”

“Wow, you are way too easy, J’har. You could have gained some concessions right there.”

“Yes, well, not in the moment. You are my concession, my love. You, well… did I ever tell you I love Tim?”

“Tim?” llhaesa said it before processing; as a result, she repeated the name back at Jahrae as if she did not know who Tim was.

“You know, Ronnie and Tim.”

“You mean me.”

“In a way, but I think we short-change Tim a bit there.”

“Why are we talking on Tim?”

“Never mind, I will tell you in a bit. I am on my way; have a margarita waiting, please. I will make use of a power descent all the way.”

True to her word, Jahrae made the AISV to lake trip in fourteen minutes, parking out front as usual, and cutting through the house just long enough to pull off her clothes and climb into a one-piece swimsuit. The suit looked stunning on her, black with one simple green stripe along the length of one side.

Ready, she made her way out the back door, onto the deck, kissing llhaesa while calling hello to Jamie on the fly, walking off toward the dock. Wasting no time, Jahrae dove off the dock, swam outward 100 metres, turned toward the right and swam another set of 100 metres, turned right again for another length, bringing her back along just off their beach, where she turned a final time, finally wading ashore.

Shaken out of her nap-induced lethargy, Jahrae returned to the deck, water running in rivulets off her lake-immersed body. “You promised a margarita?” she inquired of llhaesa, ready to hold her to that promise.

“Right here waiting, my dear stunning swimmer,” llhaesa made good, reaching on the wrought iron table for a pitcher, first dipping a glass in margarita salt, before she finished by adding ice and the margarita itself.

“Thank you, ‘essa, I so crave the taste of this in the moment,” Jahrae advised.

“What is going on with you? What happened up there today? Did Omar say something inane yet again?”

“No, not at all; he said little, although he accepted a solicitor now. That should help in finding where he goes next.

In any case, that went about as expected. I met Tim later.”

Llhaesa looked at her wife with curiosity, passing on the humour she might otherwise invoke. Something suggested that Jahrae was serious on some level, that something related to Tim stirred within her.

“Tell me about Tim, Jahrae. You mentioned you love him. It must have been an interesting conversation between you.”

It was Jahrae’s turn to scrutinise, instantly recognising that llhaesa sussed out some inner need on her part to make sense of Tim, of his role, his life, his place in their history. “How did you-“

Llhaesa smiled, her eyes finding and locking on those of Jahrae. “My dear, I suggest we know each other rather well, and you would see between my words as I do yours.”

“Yes, since you put it that way, I guess we do.

After I returned to our suite, I decided on a nap before scooting down here.” Jahrae went on to share the dream – the note, the dog, Tim, the revised note – with llhaesa and Jamie.

“You sure have wild dreams,” Jamie opined.

“That one is rather wild, Jamie,” Jahrae conceded. “Yet it had purpose, something inside of me calling my attention to Tim, to ponder, to evaluate, to give some sort of recognition for his role in keeping llhaesa well, in getting her back to me, or rather, us back to each other.

I have seen pictures and video of Tim, and so his image is known to me, but…sharing his personality, or calling attention to his significance?

The universe works in mysterious ways.

Think about it – Tim got what he so desperately knew was truth, that his body was all wrong. What he did not know, what he did not realise was part of the bargain, was that along with getting that right, he was but a part of the whole of another human being.

Tim is not gone; he lives on as part of llhaesa. In a way, his consciousness expanded. He just did not grasp, probably could not grasp, who he ultimately was a part of in reality. In a way, Tim just wishes us to remember that in the end, he was philanthropic and benevolent, not malevolent.”

Llhaesa looked at Jahrae closely, her mind processing. While she sussed out why Jahrae mentioned Tim, she had little idea up front of how intense she pondered him.

“It is rather weird, J’har. I have these memories of Tim, but I see it all now through the filter of my life, as if I assimilated Tim and his thoughts. If I isolate, if I filter out my feelings, outlook, abilities, and such, if I touch the perspective of Tim, I can see what you say.

You did converse with Tim, because that is exactly how Tim would feel about it all. Tim was a sentient being, albeit one jump-started through a combination of stripping away the memories from a prior life, along with the programmed memories of an illusory past. His life, his context, was in the subset of a broader life, as if there is a separate being once we wall of parts of our thoughts.

In effect, Tim had amnesia. Oh, there was a changed body, but amnesia is the best fit I can find. It surely must feel like another life, but… it is still the life of the same person.

For family psychological reasons, I thought of a funeral for Tim, but that would not be the right way to go. Instead, maybe we need to celebrate Tim. Maybe we need to celebrate his life and struggles, how he overcame the huge impediments placed in his way. In that sense, I owe him…my life.

Posted in 51 Pegasi, Addison, Arrhazon, Arrkarhara, Brellian, Dolores, Jahrae, Jamie Collins, Ronnie, Tim, llhaesa | Tagged blog fiction, blog novels, books, creative writing, eBooks, feminism, feminist fiction, fiction, fiction writing, lesbian, lesbian books, lesbian fiction, lesbian literature, lesbian stories, lesbian-novels, lgbt fiction, literature, novels, online authors, online books, online novels, original fiction, science fiction, stories, story telling, writing, writing-inspiration | Leave a Comment »

XCVI – the man who never knew

17 June, 2009 by llhaesa

The method of travel was traditional, something out of their past, one from but two years ago and one they still occasionally made use of, yet it somehow felt outmoded, from further back in time.

Addison and Ronnie headed south on Interstate 93, Addie driving in their family SUV, their destination Boston, where mother and daughter wished to spend a day shopping and interacting, something they did several years in a row, before.

Before. Two years equated to a lifetime, given what occurred in that time. There were the subtle differences, such as Addison driving rather than riding as a passenger. Now licensed for almost a year, she drove as if 5 years of driving experience were hers to claim.

In partial keeping with past shopping excursion tradition, mother and daughter would exit toward Sullivan Square, where they would leave the vehicle behind and take the Orange Line to the Green Line. Where it differed was in the final destination: Newbury Street, instead of Downtown Crossing.

So much had changed since their last shopping trip into the city; it was as if that were a memory from another era, when both were ignorant of the true nature of their family, and in Addison’s case, herself.

Two days before, Addison jumped into the Gulf of Mexico right out of Chekresu, diving 30 metres in the night into a virtual maelstrom. The seas pushed 25 metres from trough to crest, the wind howling with the force of a sustained 200 kph plus speed, growing stronger each minute Addie remained in the water.

She spent 90 minutes in such hellish conditions, refusing to give up without accomplishing her goal, relentlessly moving towards and ultimately retrieving the unconscious llhaesa. Inside of two weeks, Addie saved Jahrae and llhaesa from significant peril and danger, perhaps death, risking her life each time.

No one thought of Addison as a child any longer, she surged from adolescence into adulthood at an earlier age than most, faster than almost everyone did, possibly except for llhaesa, with whom she shared so much.

The actions carried a cost. The incidents came back in her dreams, although in each dream Addison faced down the challenges, emerging successful in her efforts. Still, they haunted in some fashion.

“With what you did Addie, the dreams are added baggage that comes with placing oneself in harm’s way, in striving to help others. It is our mind at work, making certain we grasp the permutations, the possibilities, and that we learn from them.

Obviously, you know we are proud of you, although my hair will go grey from you dealing with people with guns, dealing with hurricanes, and the like.

In this family, we follow our inner guidance and do, and you did. Look at the larger picture, what was happening, why you and llhaesa were there. Over two hundred people are alive who wouldn’t be because of the collective efforts of this family and the AISV.”

“I agree, and I would do the same thing again. Mum ‘essa fell off that platform; she did not have on an EEWV that would have enabled us to just pull her out of the water. Someone had to get to her who had one, and the only one who could do this, given I cannot pilot, was me.

Any of us would do that for any other of us, heck for anyone else.”

“Oh, I know Addie. What I worry over now is the reaction of media. You now carry responsibility and pressure I wish was not there, but it is what is. Your popularity is now pushing into the same level as that of llhaesa and Jahrae, and everything you do will be news.”

“I guess that was inevitable, just by virtue of being my parent’s daughter. As you say, it is what is, and I give my best.”

“Take the next exit, Addie. You have to go a ways along to get to Sullivan Square, so just keep going once on the exit.”

Addie dutifully followed her mum’s direction, and soon they were leaving the SUV behind, heading into the Orange Line Station. Their wait for a train was but seven minutes, and given it was past morning rush hour, there was ample seating.

Taking the first forward facing seat from the entry, Ronnie asked Addie about the upcoming trip to Arrhazon. “Are you excited? Are you nervous? What are your expectations?”

Addie smiled, her eyes focusing outside the train as she assembled her thoughts. “Nervous? No. Excited, absolutely! I have lived here my whole life – and I could have been content with that throughout life, maybe visiting other parts of this world, experiencing new cultures, having fun.

This…I would suggest all of our minds expanded, our world expanded, what we think of as world no longer sufficient to define what our province is. I know it is a bit different for you, but for me, my heritage is only half of Earth, the other half I have yet to see, the source of part of my genetic make up and its history.

I have watched a lot of video on Arrhazon, read a lot of information on the Athenaeum, but it is nothing like meeting the people, seeing things for myself, all the little and big things that are different, from food to architecture to customs.

Mum, do you think back to when you first met Tim?”

“How do you mean, Addie? I do think about those times, and at least that element is real, we did do those things, we did have those conversations.”

“I meant in the sense that but a few months before you met or whatever, we now know that Tim was llhaesa, with all of her history and life of 25 years at that time. We know the horrors mum ‘essa endured as her life came to what was intended to be a horrific ending; this directly resulted in Tim being here.

You were fortunate; you did not undergo implantation of faux memories, all you and Tim did was reality.

Yet it must still seem so surreal, knowing the truth.

We need to switch trains at the next stop.”

Ronnie understood what Addison asked, the thoughts behind the question. Over the past two years, Ronnie wrestled with this, but she also knew that how Tim felt was a real feeling, it was a real connection.

If only she knew early on of the conflict within Tim, if only she knew to encourage Tim to seek help. “Addie, there are times I question myself.”

“Why?” Ronnie’s answer surprised Addison, and her attention turned fully toward her mother, taking in expressions, gestures, and words.

Ronnie now took a turn and gained distance vision, looking outside the train car into the darkness of the subway tunnel as it flashed by. The wheels of the train squealed occasionally, while the car rocked gently as it rolled along.

“If I had paid attention to detail, if I saw the occasional flashes of angst that Tim carried, if I recognised those periods of silence were times of introspection, seeking answers, seeking resolution, seeking the truth, maybe…I could have helped and encouraged, I don’t know.

Over the last six months with Tim, you saw, Addie. Tim felt tormented; we know now this was because of whom he really was, all of whom he was before pushed hard for freedom. He started coming up against and touching on the reality of before, pushing through artificial barriers in place to separate the two.

Then again, maybe it had to happen this way for the masking to blow off as it did. It baffles mum Elsren, she considers it an extraordinary event, not yet explainable, even by the Arrhazonan science that took llhaesa and refashioned her as Tim.

I was so scared, Addie; scared for you and Serry, scared for me, and scared for Tim. When the accident happened, when Susan was injured, that was the low point, but it was also the turning point.”

Addie enjoyed this exchange, so much so that she had to concentrate on their location in order not to miss the North Station stop. “Let me guess. At that point, Susan forgave Tim, invited both of you into her life, shared Reiki when Tim expressed interest, and that sharing, that teaching, that learning, opened up new channels.

As an advanced practitioner of the Arrhazonan equivalent, yet more connection between old and new life took place. More cracks developed. Then there was the music. I remember dad – Tim – obsessed with writing music he did not understand, working by trial and error.

It is extraordinary that a being as gifted as llhaesa in musical arts had such an impediment as Tim; such was their programming of his mind. It is extraordinary that Tim persevered, pushed through this and got the right music assembled.”

Ronnie placed a hand on her daughter’s knee. “That…is quite an astute analysis,” she praised. “I thought I would miss my children as children, but…you prove me wrong in that assumption, Addison. Interacting with you now is a great joy in my life.”

“Thank you, mother…thank you. I guess for me, living it, it is just part of growing up.

We are at North Station, we need to take the Green Line outbound to Arlington, mum.”

Mother and daughter disembarked the train, following the modest group departing the train; some of whom mimicked them and headed for the Green Line.

A train came into the station, but its destination was in the opposite direction. The wait continued, after ten minutes another approached that would take them out to the Arlington stop.

Settled on the train, they watched as the cars slowly filled with passengers, their conversation muted by the spectacle of people jockeying for standing position.

“What a difference from the last train, but it is a workday after all. Are you looking forward to Newbury Street shopping, Addie?”

“It isn’t our usual place to wander about, but it should be…interesting. I guess what we take with us to Arrhazon represents a bit of this culture, hopefully in a good way.”

“Excuse me,” a voice called out, one of a hundred. Neither Addie nor Ronnie reacted given they were seated, not thinking someone spoke to them. “Excuse me,” the voice repeated, this time catching Ronnie’s attention, directing her attention upward, past Addie. “Yes?” she asked, acknowledging she heard the question from the young man, one likely of college age.

“I am sorry to bother you,” he began, seeing Addison now looking at him curiously. “I just wished to say that what you did over the past two weeks is an inspiration to all in our generation, Addison.

We can change this world if we all try.”

It took a moment for Addie to realise what unfolded, that she was recognised, that this young man wished to pay her a compliment. “Thank you, your comment is appreciated!

You are right, if we all do our part, we can change things. I just happened to be in a place where I could make an immediate difference.”

“I agree. Anyway, sorry to disturb you, but I feel such admiration for you and your family, and this is probably my own chance to show my gratitude.

Enjoy your day.”

“You as well,” Addie replied, and as an afterthought called after him, “do something to assist another today.”

The young man turned back and gave her a thumb’s up, but he kept to intent and moved along, leaving Addison and Ronnie to ponder his words.

“I hadn’t thought of it, Addison, but I suspect there will be more of that for you today. Are you ok with this?”

“Yes, it bothers me not. We talked about our family being a tradition of doers, well; we are also a family that interacts with others. It all goes hand in hand.”

Addie kept close watch on the stations, informing Ronnie as they approached Arlington, their intended stop. They worked their way through those remaining on board, stepping down and off the train, and temporarily stopping to look for the exit to Newbury Street.

Both dressed casually, wearing shorts, tank tops, and sandals, clothing that felt just right as they emerged into the sunny, 24°C weather. There was nothing pretentious about this family.

Waking two blocks, they encountered a young woman skilfully playing a violin. Avoiding the sun, she stood in the limited shade afforded by buildings on the southern side of the street. At her feet was the violin case, open and containing a scattering of coins, along with a few paper bills.

The musician also dressed down for the weather in shorts and a tank top, while she wore her reddish hued hair up on her head, keeping it out of her face. Freckles stood out when she occasionally moved into the sunlight, likely the result of many days spent doing as she did now.

Mother and daughter stopped to watch. Recognising the start of one song as one written by llhaesa, Addison felt something inside urge her to sing. Drawing a deep breath, she gave in to the feeling and sang along.

The college age musician, likely a student at nearby Berklee, gave a quick glance and smile at Addie, her eyes growing wider as her mind processed and realised just who it was who sang along with her play.

Ronnie turned refocused her attention away from the performers, surprised to see somewhere around 100 people now watched.

The song ended to enthusiastic applause, and Addie spoke up, encouraging people to donate to the young musician, that the entertainment had value to them if they stopped to watch.

Addie reached in her bag and extracted several bills, dropping them into the case. The musician gasped, but the gesture worked, and at least half those watching followed suit in some way, as they were able.

“Thank you,” the young woman leaned in towards Addie so she would hear in the bustle of supporters.

“No, thank you for performing. My mum does this on occasion, and in fact, she and I played on the Common not long ago. It gives charisma and character to the city, makes it feel lived in and homey.

From the looks of that case, you probably should close up shop for today and get that somewhere safe,” Addie encouraged.

“Yikes!” the violinist exclaimed, taking her first look at the case since Addie contributed. “Yes, you are right, I will do just that. By the way, I am Marla, and obviously you are Addie.”

“Yes. Have a wonderful day, Marla!” Addie took her leave, Ronnie turning and walking with her as they made their way back into shopping mode.

Over the next two hours, mother and daughter were in and out of a plethora of stores on both sides of Newbury Street. They requested their purchases ship, saving them from carrying things along with them.

Addie spotted a shirt she loved, white cotton and sleeveless. It featured an artist’s interpretation and rendition of llhaesa and Jahrae, holding hands and walking along a stream, the sketched foliage around them colourful New England in fall. There were two small words, written in script, under the image: The Immorals.”

The world knew their parents, and there was one thing few would suggest: that her parents were immoral. The meaning struck Addie immediately, a challenge to those who think they sinned by marrying. It was a quiet and tasteful declarative, and after purchasing, Addie went and changed into that top.

“Ooh, I like it, Addie!” Ronnie exclaimed, seeing Addie in her new shirt. “That artist gave a wonderful accounting of llhaesa and Jahrae.”

The two made their way to a restaurant, choosing to dine outside and enjoy the sun. Both ordered light fare, Ronnie a traditional Caesar salad, Addison a mandarin salad.

“Mum, thank you,” Addie verbally offered to her mum just after ordering.

“You are welcome, for whatever it is I did,” Ronnie quipped.

“Thank you for being such a wonderful example and guide for me in life. When all of this happened, I can remember being at that home in Vermont. This woman was with us I did not know. She was beautiful and tall and played a wondrous piano, but…as a child, as a child not knowing, it was scary. ‘Where is dad?’ went through my mind more than once.

I was worried. Where was my father? Now I know you and mum ‘essa talked much before then, and you both agreed that we needed to know…but when did you first see llhaesa?”

“I never saw her in Plymouth. I rode along in the ambulance, but I could not see out back, and Dolores warned me not to look out back. When we got to their hideaway, Dolores immediately drove me back to Henna.

Llhaesa got away after I left, driving a vehicle here to get you children, to keep you safe. We thought the government, failing to get ‘essa would try and get you, and actually, we were right, they did try to get you and Serry.

They wanted verification, and to them, your DNA was their goal, not to mention what they thought you might know.

Knowing this, llhaesa drove to Henna, but we were gone. We had to meet up with your grandmother, and that delayed us. Llhaesa caught up to us on I89, right across the river into Vermont.

When I saw her, well…I guess it is no secret to say she – and now you, her virtual twin – was simply breathtaking. Before me was a classy looking woman who carried herself well – Saehressa raised a graceful daughter – and I just knew, my God, I just knew right then that Tim was gone, that Tim was llhaesa. I knew not how, I just knew.

Small wonder Tim struggled so to shed the cover, they were such different people, though both retained a strong sense of caring. He tried so hard,” Ronnie paused, a tear or two evident.

Addie reached for one of her mum’s hands, holding it, encouraging her to share.

“Thank you, Addie,” Ronnie said declaratively, her eyes full of love for her daughter.

“Tim was in effect a flawed programme covering a real human being. He did not ask for that, they just made him that way, fabricated him out of someone else. I wish I could go back, I wish I could have a few minutes with him, just before the end, knowing all we know now.”

“What would you say to Daddy?” Addie wondered, using a reference she had not spoken in some time.

Ronnie stabbed at her tears with a tissue; she made no effort to hide the emotion of this conversation. She liked discussing this, she needed to discuss this on some level, and Addison was the perfect person to chat with, two people who knew and loved Tim.

“I would explain why he was torn in two; I would tell Tim that what he felt so strongly deep inside, that his gender was wrong, was true. I would tell him that not only was it wrong, he was in fact a beautiful woman, one that would soon refashion his body in reclaiming her body, and that all that was good in him lived on in her.

I would tell him that his passion for taking you kids outside, this to look up through the telescope at 51 Pegasi, was also significant; it was his home. I would share how one day we would leave and head there to visit his home.

Then I would tell him of his daughters.

I think this part would be what most interested him, Addie, hearing of how his oldest daughter was now a hero on two worlds, the best student on two worlds, a loving and caring woman who devoted heart and soul to the betterment and health of others.

After I shared that with him, if I had time, I would follow by explaining how she was an identical to who he – she – really was, beautiful and tall with thick, dirty blonde hair. I would tell him of her strength, of her inner strength, her spiritual strength, and her physical strength.

I would share Serry’s bravery in her choice to unmask, stories of her mediation activities amongst feuding classmates, of who we suspect she will be in eight years.

If there was any time left, maybe I would tell him that how he so struggled to assemble that song, that song made not through skill but trial and error, that song was the key, a key that took him home, back to a life where there was no better musician in the universe.”

Addison looked at her mum but said nothing initially, her thoughts processing and contemplative; her tears were flowing now as well. Mother and daughter understood each other; their feelings from that time were so similar despite their different perspectives.

Addie was in a unique position, because there was one other thing she would share with Tim that her mother had not mentioned. “Mum, that was quite poignant, but at the risk of piling on, there is something I would share you did not mention.”

“What is that, Addie?” Ronnie wondered.

“That who he was inside, who he struggled so hard to free, was all that you would tell him, with one additional thing. Somehow, he and his eldest daughter, the one that now looked just like his true self, would have this connection, this attachment of feeling, of empathy, of perception, that transcends time and space, sharing that of one with that of the other.

I think Daddy would have liked to know he connected to me, always.”

The exploration of that time almost twenty-six months before ended as both caught a glimpse of their server standing near their table, patiently waiting to gain the attention of they, his patrons, both of whom seemed engrossed and enthralled in a subject he had no desire to interrupt.

Posted in 51 Pegasi, Aailhra, Addison, Dolores, Ronnie, llhaesa, reiki | Tagged blog fiction, blog novels, books, creative writing, eBooks, feminism, feminist fiction, fiction, fiction writing, lesbian, lesbian books, lesbian fiction, lesbian literature, lesbian stories, lesbian-novels, lgbt fiction, literature, novels, online authors, online books, online novels, original fiction, science fiction, stories, story telling, writing, writing-inspiration | Leave a Comment »

LCV – stirred by the sea part II

16 June, 2009 by llhaesa

With only sixteen hours and 340 kilometres separating the TGOG-72 Platform from the full force of 265 kph winds, the two hundred and twelve-member crew gathered in the platform’s cafeteria, collectively praying for rescue off the platform, or failing that, safely endure in place the approaching monster storm.

While the crew prayed, the conditions outside deteriorated markedly. Already, wind gusts approached hurricane force, while bands of squall lines, both the first significant effects of the storm system, lashed the platform, while the waves grew angry and taller, slamming at its base pillars.

John Tillerson, a veteran of ten years on the platform, worked to secure a valve only to have the wind nearly sweep him off the deck. A safety harness saved him from the reach of the boiling ocean below.

Thereafter, the crew remained inside awaiting word on whether there would be an attempt to evacuate.

Their radio cackled to life, with a simple, “TGOG-72, rescue is underway. Arrhazonan craft will land in twos. You should assemble 12 to each craft for boarding.”

Ken Morse, in charge of the platform, rushed to the radio. Grabbing the microphone, depressing the talk switch, and speaking all in one motion, he advised of current conditions. “Houston, we have hurricane force wins here currently, accompanied by heavy rain from a just approaching squall.”

Houston did not respond. In its stead, Ken heard a clear-channel voice with which he was unfamiliar, one feminine, pleasant, calm, friendly but to the point, and in his mind, quite British. “TGOG-72, you are advised to implement the following protocol. All crew boarding the landing crafts should tether to one another in groups of twelve.

Our propulsion systems do not cause wash. Your only concern is weather conditions and your place on the platform relative to reaching each craft. You will board each craft by the side door, which will face toward the platform, kept from exposed areas as much as possible.

Any questions?”

“Yes. Who am I speaking with?”

“Jahrae Khentavra.”

Ken knew that name; there was no need for further explanation. “Thank you, Jahrae, and on behalf of my crew, thank you and all of your team for lending a hand.”

“You are more than welcome Ken. Ours will be the first craft to land. Llhaesa will off board and join your crew inside.

The remaining craft will not be here for another hour; we caught the AISV performing routine diagnostics and maintenance on the crafts at the time of my order to assist your crew.

Once on board the crafts, we will bring the crew to MacDill Air Force Base in west-central Florida.

ETA for us is five minutes. I will take 12 off the platform immediately; have them ready to go outside and board as soon as you see us alight.”

“Are you sure you can fly in these conditions?”

“If you are last to board, Ken, we’ll take you on a leisurely and comprehensive tour of the hurricane.”

“I guess that answers my question. All right, see you in five.”

A half hour earlier, back in Henna, 2,280 kilometres away from the offshore platform, Jahrae went to work overseeing the evacuation, ordering the full complement of 17 craft available to marshal for the southern Louisiana coast.

Somewhat chagrined to find all craft save Chekresu underwent maintenance and thus were unavailable for close to an hour, Jahrae ordered the operation suspended and the craft placed back into service. Even Mmurha was aboard the AISV and undergoing maintenance.

Jahrae continued working to get the operation co-ordinated, deciding she, Addison, and llhaesa would depart immediately. With Jahrae managing the effort from on board, llhaesa piloted Chekresu southwestward, heading for the Mississippi Delta and beyond to the platform.

Setting the craft down door side toward the inner platform, llhaesa disembarked, while Addison remained on board with Jahrae. Twelve of the crew came out, each tethered in a human chain to prevent the wind from sweeping them off the rig. The twelve made it aboard safely, and Jahrae immediately took them off, heading east.

Llhaesa struggled against the wind, moving toward the inside of the platform. Reaching the door, one of the crew opened it for her, closing the door behind her once she passed. Inside, she gained awareness of the sound of howling wind, for in the midst of struggling against it; sound was not her primary invoked sense.

“Hi,” llhaesa called out in greeting, pulling off a waterproof, body-fitting slicker and hood, designed for use in strong wind.

Ken had not had a chance to mention llhaesa boarding, providing the crew with details on evacuation procedure only.

Hearing her voice, some turned and startled, instantly realising who was now among them. Various voices called out a greeting, the greetings merging into a cacophony of sound that llhaesa still understood as a warm welcome.

“Unfortunately, we have almost an hour to wait until the fleet of craft arrive. At that point, things will move quickly. It is important we move in sequential groups of twelve, but it is also important to remember only two groups will load at one time.

There will be a brief interlude between sets, probably one no more than five minutes, allowing the craft to depart and two more to land.

Until then, all we can do is wait for their arrival. If anyone feels like taking their mind off this storm, I offer my singing services, and welcome anyone who wishes to join in, be it one or all of you.

If singing is not what you have in mind, well… we can always tell jokes. Bottom line here is you are all going to be safe inside of two hours, and let’s find a way to get there quickly, instead of losing ourselves in worry.”

“Llhaesa, do you do any spiritual songs?” one crewmember asked.

“Yes, I certainly do, although I hope that a song written to suit one person’s spiritual needs – me – is all right for you. I prefer not to proclaim my spiritual belief publicly, and instead try to write such songs in a way that most everyone can find a connection, in whatever way works for them.”

“That would be great,” the requestor called back to llhaesa.

Llhaesa began to sing, although without amplification she could not sing the song as per her usual way of rendering the performance. Normally she started softly, but most would not hear given the roaring wind outside.

Projecting her voice, she sang of connecting in the ethereal, of inspiration from the ethereal, of existence to the ethereal. The song embraced hope; it inspired others to hold their belief close to their heart, always in an affirming way.

For llhaesa, the meaning might be different than it was for the crewmember making the request, but in the end, both found the fulfilment that mattered within their lives.

Llhaesa connected to the universe, to its life energy contributed by all beings, which represented all beings, consisting of was all beings. She was a part of the whole, equal to the rest, although her connection, her ethereal interface of choice, was goddess; the one whose name Jahrae carried.

Llhaesa always loved the symmetry of it all, and she sometimes wondered on the symmetry of it all. A coincidence; of that she was not at all certain. The universe worked in mysterious ways, but it surely made a positive and obvious mark more than once upon her life.

That was the inspiration for the song when she wrote it, then as well as the inspiration as she sang it now. In her mind, we all contribute to the well-being of one another.

Her voice filled the small cafeteria room, grabbing people by the throat and taking them soaring upon an unexpected spiritual journey. On the cusp of a category 5 hurricane, their safety still unclear, the lot of people in the room found their connection and followed her voice to it; sometimes unknowingly, their voice joined in and sang along.

The singing grew louder, the voices of the two hundred rallying. With her voice soaring, it took a while for llhaesa to realise all now sang along. She felt her heart warm, the warmth spread through her body, feeding on their connection, on their hope, offering her own in affirming reciprocation.

In one room, people of one world blended their spiritual selves with one of a different world. Physical concepts like space and time faded away, replaced by the joy of living and the inspiration of love.

Not wishing to end the moment too soon, llhaesa took it around for reprise, repeating the lyrics, this time taking the song to a rousing conclusion. Everyone in the room clapped; each one of the workers, llhaesa right along with them. They applauded…themselves, and a connection they could feel and not see, nor touch.

In the momentary pause and silence that followed, all there could hear the wind singing back, as if displeased that this solitary collection of workers still dared to stand in its path. The platform vibrated, almost keeping its own shuddering time.

Someone checked current readings, yelling out a new gust of 158 kph. They were in category 2 winds now. Rain relentlessly rattled the outside walls, the walls projecting its rhythmic rattle, a contrasting beat to the vibrating platform, overdubbed with the singing wind.

“All right everyone, I think we need to do another song. Choices or preferences?”

One in the back, someone llhaesa could not see, yelled, “Please sing Forever, Wherever. My wife and kids evacuated from New Orleans.”

“That is a good and appropriate choice. For all of our loved ones, may they know what we carry in our hearts,” llhaesa proclaimed, loudly. This was her most famous work, one she wrote and sang knowing her life was in imminent danger of ending, that others were ready to strip it away.

The song carried the bundled package of the totality of her love, an aural remembrance for her love – for Jahrae.

This time, no one else joined in, each realising that this was a song best sung in each of their hearts and in each of their minds. They let the virtuoso ply her vocal magic, taking sound and shaping it as if clay, moulding yet sharing, such that others could ponder and appreciate and make it their own.

And this is what each did. As llhaesa sang of Jahrae, others heard her sing of their loved ones or one, felt their hearts reach out across space and time to wherever they were in this moment of crisis.

Llhaesa closed this song out by taking her voice softer, until those closest to her heard but a whisper. She held up her hands palms out, symbolically asking the others to pass on the applause, which they graciously did.

The next was a song of defiance, one written against the conduct of an oppressive regime, which she reworked on the fly, resulting in a song proclaiming their strength standing against the storm.

Thereafter, llhaesa managed another four songs, the end of the fourth interrupted by a violent shuddering that resulted in a noticeable shift in the platform.

Ken walked up to llhaesa and quietly whispered, “The last gust was close to 200 kph, llhaesa. What we felt was the action of the ocean, it bent one of our supports; this structure is going to fail. I am ordering everyone into life vests.”

Opening a storage compartment, he handed llhaesa a vest and began passing the rest out.

After putting on the vest, llhaesa flipped open her mobile, using the Arrhazonan satellite connection to communicate. “J’har, where are things? We are pushing the limit here now, and are donning life vests.”

“Mum? Mum, this is Addison. We are off your boarding side now, with 15 other craft waiting with us. We will pick you up last. The first two craft are setting down now.

Please know the platform is lilting, and the boarders will walk on a slight incline. We will make use of a connecting tether; each team of twelve should latch this one to the first person, connecting all to the landing craft.

One more thing, mum. This area is just outside a section of storm with sustained winds over 220 kph, and time is short.

Two craft are on platform; go!”

“Acknowledged and out, Addison.” Llhaesa motioned for two sets of twelve, the pairings already set, locking in their respective tethering.

Llhaesa moved to go out with them, but Ken grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”

“I fly those craft, Ken. I know what the crew has to do to be safe.” Without another word, she was out the door with the team, leaning hard into the wind, pushing, driving her legs hard just to move forward.

The team waited on the edge of the landing platform, llhaesa hurried as best she could, reaching the front and grabbing the connection from the first craft. Locking it, she moved on to the other as the craft pulled them in.

Both craft were off inside of three minutes, with the next two setting down. A strong gust knocked llhaesa down, requiring her to reach out for solid purchase and hold on. Ken was with her now, and he was screaming, but she could not hear him.

Motioning for the next two teams of twelve, they were out and in the craft in 30 seconds less than the first two teams. The next two took three minutes again, as it seemed the resistance of the wind grew yet fiercer.

Another violent shudder tilted the platform to a stronger angle. Along with this, it seemed to twist slightly, changing their orientation relative to the waiting and hovering craft.

The loading took longer now, pushing four minutes, but she and they struggled onward. Llhaesa breathed a heavy sigh of relief as they reached the final pairing, the 16^th and 17^th loadings of this mission.

The sixteenth boarded and left. Unfortunately, before she could tend to the final team, the platform notched forward towards failure, slowly. Now listing at a noticeable 20° angle, this lifted the platform, placing a broader section in the path of the wind, as if now an anchored sail. It had little ability to stand against the relentless action of wind and wave for long.

Llhaesa struggled to reach the connection from Chekresu, getting her hand on it just as the tether connection from the eleventh to the final crewmember broke free.

Disconnected, he slid down the platform on over the edge, the man finally gaining a solid grip on a pipe a metre down from the edge of the platform. Below this was a two-metre square section of sheet metal, housing machinery. Standing on this housing while retaining a firm hold on the pipe, he waved one arm up over the edge, signalling to the waiting remainder of the crew.

Relieved to see the crewmember apparently hanging on, llhaesa motioned for Ken to get the other eleven on board Chekresu. Before he could object, llhaesa engaged what she would later describe as ‘a controlled slide’ down to the edge, where she reached for another pipe the other had missed on his way down.

Holding her feet wrapped on the pipe, she reached over the side and grabbed the fallen crewmember’s arms, her long and strong fingers making the difference in encircling his wrists. With some unfathomable inner strength and will, calling upon all her Aailhra symbology, llhaesa pulled the man upward, onto the deck.

Chekresu stood waiting as the man scrambled upslope, albeit carefully, successfully reaching the waiting craft. Llhaesa saw Addie pull him on board while she waited, catching enough of a breath to make her attempt to climb for Chekresu.

Releasing her foothold on the supporting pipe, llhaesa began her climb, making headway, reaching the halfway point, moving beyond. In that instant, another powerful wave struck, with the platform twisting slowly further into a steeper incline.

Jahrae had to lift Chekresu off the platform for safety reasons, manoeuvring around and closer to llhaesa, not able to get close enough, and too late. The platform surged again, sending llhaesa off into the roiling and angry water below.

Watching inside Chekresu, Jahrae and Addie screamed in unison.

“Addie, hold this craft steady, I am going in,” Jahrae declared, leaving her seat.

“Mother, sit down,” Addie had a hand on her mum, gently stopping forward movement. “You can fly Chekresu, I cannot. I’m going in.” With a rapid turn and powerful steps, Addison was gone before Jahrae could reach her daughter. Wearing an electronic enhanced water vest or EEWV, Addie dove out the open door, into the menacing threat hidden in the darkness below.

With little choice, Jahrae jumped back in the pilot’s seat, taking the craft low to the water, just above maximum wave height. Locking it in with settings that would compensate if stronger wind and wave action occurred, she activated flooding light outside, as well as their array of visual displays.

Jahrae could see Addison just below the craft, while llhaesa was thirty metres away, to Addie’s northeast.

With Addison wearing waterproof communications gear that included an earpiece, Jahrae called out llhaesa’s location, using a lime-green, focused beam to point the way.

Employing powerful strokes, Addison swam toward llhaesa, at times swimming upward vertically, at times downward vertically, making limited progress rolling in waves that now pushed 23 metres from trough to crest.

Not knowing that Addie was in the water, llhaesa saw the guiding light from Chekresu, though it was harder to see given the line was not far from directly in her face. She swam forward, toward the craft, reprising in opposite directions Addison’s wild ride across the unstable surface of the Gulf.

In an unfortunate moment of ill timing, an unanticipated wave break spattered hard at her, resulting in a sizeable ingestion of salt water. Llhaesa tried to spit it out as best she could, but the water burned at her insides, pushing her to vomit.

Needing all her strength to not succumb to the sea, the involuntary retching left llhaesa struggling. On board Chekresu, Jahrae could see llhaesa retching, as well as the resulting inability of her to overcome and push onward.

Addie grew nearer, but in that water, Jahrae knew one could move right past someone not a metre away. She silently called upon her spiritual connection, her symbology in Aailhra, in her mind’s eye guiding Addison and llhaesa toward one another.

“Addie, you are near llhaesa,” Jahrae called out, seeing each on opposite sides of a wave crest, barely two metres between them if in placid waters.

The two flowed through two other cycles of trough and crest before Addison took her mother in her arms, realising llhaesa was now unconscious. Holding her mother’s head out of water, Addison worked the built in vest harness, wrapping it tight around llhaesa before triggering the electronic retrieval signal and interface.

Addie signalled using her outstretched arm, her hand motioning upward. Inside Chekresu, Jahrae activated the lift mechanism, which automatically adjusted for weight of load and substance and any resistance, working an invisible connection.

Addie, her arms around llhaesa and holding tight despite the now locked in vest, held her mother with every ounce of love that ever found a place in her being. Addie could see llhaesa’s head lying limp to one side, praying that she was not too late in affecting rescue.

The unseen force, emanating from just above Chekresu’s side door, sucked the mother and daughter tandem out of the resistant water, a feeling Addie later described as ‘surreal’.

This was essentially the same technology that carried the fishing boat back to the New England coast a year and a half before, now in use on a limited and modest scale, except programmed to bring those rescued to the craft’s side entry door.

With Chekresu on autopilot and at a height away from wave action, Jahrae reopened the door, pulling both inside with a hard tug on the binding holding llhaesa to Addie. The door closed shut as Jahrae hit the side switch with her elbow, giving her an extra second to drop and check on the unconscious llhaesa.

Her head turned to one side, llhaesa spit up more salt water, though she remained unconscious. Jahrae flipped llhaesa over and pressed heavily upon her back, forcing residual water out of her lungs. Only a trickle flowed out.

Llhaesa coughed once, twice, and one additional time, her eyes weakly opening, her hands trying and failing to lift her body out of its prone position.

“Addie, help me get her out back,” Jahrae called. Between both, they gently raised llhaesa off the floor and got her to the medical area. Jahrae stripped off the wet clothing, dried her, and placed llhaesa in a bed, ordering her wife to rest. Llhaesa did not object.

Returning to the main cabin, for the first time Jahrae noticed the 13 rescued crew watching intently. Realising they just experienced a harrowing evacuation and dramatic rescue of llhaesa, she assured them all was stabilised “and we can bloody well get out of here.”

Looking at the array of instrumentation, Jahrae noticed wind speed now registered an astounding 275 kph. This sent her to the time, for such wind was only possible near the eyewall.

Unbelieving, she digested how they had been on scene for three hours, while Addie and llhaesa were in the water for almost ninety minutes of that time.

Engaging, she set off for Florida, her mind realising the platform was gone, and that New Orleans would likely not be standing in twelve hours. It could not stand against such a ferocious combined assault of air and sea.

Elsrensia waited at MacDill, Jahrae having forewarned of the ocean rescue of llhaesa. Fortunately, llhaesa was in overall good shape, needing only minor treatment to get her up, moving about.

Morning dawned bright, the Arrhazonan family having stayed in Florida aboard their craft overnight, too tired to bother moving in the wake of the rescue.

Curious to check on the crew of TGOG-72, Addison, Jahrae, and llhaesa walked to the mess hall, where the entirety of the crew enjoyed breakfast.

Ken Morse spotted them walk in, and near knocked a table over in his haste to reach and thank them. “What I witnessed in the past fifteen or so hours are memories I will never forget,” he began.

“The storm itself – I am unsure whether you are aware of this – took out New Orleans; it no longer exists, the area is now part of the Gulf. We stood on the front edge of that storm, my crew and me, and you.

We thought our remaining time on this planet was down to the last few hours. Then you three showed up. You and your colleagues from that ship with her name,” he teased, pointing at llhaesa. “All of you did the impossible, safely evacuated everyone.

Llhaesa, you eased our minds, you inspired hope. You brought us together and you sang. While a storm threatened outside, it was as if the real Mother Nature was inside, singing, consoling, and always ready to assist. Never have I heard something more beautiful.

That…was only the beginning. When one of my crew was almost surely lost, you risked your life to save him, pulling him back from the edge. In the process, you fell into the full fury of the ocean that tried to claim us all, and this one” Ken now singled out Addie with a point of his index finger, “this one goes out of your craft, in after you, emerging over an hour later with her mother tight in her arms.

I will never, ever – and I mean that, not ever – forget this young one’s incredible act of bravery. I know of no one, save possibly the two of you, who could have accomplished what you did, Addison.”

“It is funny you say this, Ken,” Jahrae replied, her mouth betraying a playful combination of happiness and amusement.

“Our daughter, not two weeks ago, earned the highest award given for courage, decisiveness, and resourcefulness in adverse circumstances, although she has yet to receive the award. It awaits her on Arrhazon.

Only moments ago, I received word that Addison will receive a second such award. While our highest honour is less than two decades old, no other Arrhazonan in the whole of our history has ever received the world’s highest honour, twice. My daughter, you have done this in two weeks.

Now might you see your way to cleaning your bedroom?”

Posted in Addison, Arrhazon, Arrkarhara, Dr Elsrensia K’avahra, Jahrae, llhaesa | Tagged blog fiction, blog novels, books, creative writing, eBooks, feminism, feminist fiction, fiction, fiction writing, lesbian, lesbian books, lesbian fiction, lesbian literature, lesbian stories, lesbian-novels, lgbt fiction, literature, novels, online authors, online books, online novels, original fiction, science fiction, stories, story telling, writing, writing-inspiration | Leave a Comment »

XCIV – stirred by the sea part I

15 June, 2009 by llhaesa

The gathering wave of low pressure exited the African coast unusually strong for June, creating strong squalls that shipping in the eastern Atlantic tried to avoid.

Born of a belt of low pressure circling the Arrkarharan world and known as the Inter Tropical Convergence Zone, the mere presence of yet another storm was insignificant within a region known for them.

This narrow belt, where the southern hemisphere and northern hemisphere trade winds merge, continually forced air westward, through a region with warm air close to the surface, and colder air aloft.

Stirred by the winds and fed by water temperatures in excess of 27°C, the lighter warm air rose, often rapidly, wringing out humidity as the air cooled. Severe thunderstorms were a daily fact of life in the ITCZ from the sustained conditions. Occasionally, the storms clustered.

On rare occasions, perhaps five to ten times a year, a wave or cluster of stormy weather emerging from the coast begins circulating around a common centre, creating a lower area of pressure within this centre.

If wind shear was light – the difference in wind speeds from lower altitude to higher altitude – and the storm cluster remained over warm water, it would grow rapidly, progressing through tropical storm to hurricane phase.

Such a cluster system departed the African coast on the day the team rescued Jahrae, the strong wave of pressure moving into an area of light shear, where water temperatures approached 32°C.

Forecasters warned shipping interests to avoid the area, predicting rapid development of tropical storm force winds, or wind speeds between 63 kph and 117 kph, in the area just to the south and west of the Cape Verde Islands.

Meteorologists aboard AISV llhaesa ahrella t’yaeli watched with growing interest, studying the Arrkarharan storm and contrasting it with historical and well-researched storm development on Arrhazon, extrapolating, analysing, and predicting.

By the end of the third day off-coast, the storm reached Category 2 on the Saffir-Simpson 1-5 scale, receiving the name ‘Athena’ as its identifier. Moving west at 19 kph, it continued to strengthen, reaching close to category 4.

Encountering some shear on the fifth day, the storm weakened back to minimal hurricane strength, while picking up forward speed. By the end of its first week of existence, long-range forecasts predicted the storm would turn northwestward, north, and finally northeast, heading safely out to sea, away from the United States mainland.

Hlacaela Jorsahn, chief research meteorologist aboard the AISV, differed from Arrkarharan prognosticators, predicting a continued westward path for the storm, headlong into optimal conditions in the Caribbean. Beyond, its destination five days out was coastal Louisiana.

Jahrae brought this information to the President, but US forecasters disagreed with the Arrhazonan assessment, citing a lack of credibility due to their unfamiliarity with the Arrkarharan world.

Knowing she would not prevail, Jahrae bit her lip and disengaged from the advocacy, hoping that the United States forecasters would begin to see the error in their reasoning.

Hlacaela provided much of her data to the US researchers, and while they found it interesting to study the different modelling, they continued to downplay its predictive accuracy.

Jahrae sat with llhaesa at their lake home, enjoying a nice summer’s day, reading on their back deck. While llhaesa read fiction, Jahrae studied the information from disparate forecasters sharing their predictions on the atmospheric enigma named Athena.

“’Essa, you are the science whiz in the family, would you mind reviewing these two reports and render your opinion? I feel queasy over this, given the potential for disaster if the Arrkarharan forecasters are wrong.”

“Sure, I’ll look at it, but it might take a while to study in detail.”

Jahrae reached across the short wrought iron table between their lounge chairs, passing the electronic reader off to llhaesa, who jumped right in to review.

Remaining quiet while llhaesa studied, Jahrae disappeared inside, returning with two blue margaritas on the rocks, the wide brimmed glasses ringed with a white jagged edge of margarita salt.

“Ooh, thank you,” llhaesa graciously accepted the offering, while ready to deliver a quip. “Remind me to put in a good word for you with the staffing agency. You do good work.”

Jahrae stuck out her tongue at her partner, although she could not hide the smile that reformed after her tongue withdrew.

“Feeling playful now, are you? Have you finished reading the information?” Jahrae inquired.

“Yes, I did, J’har, and I must admit I am troubled. The Arrkarharan meteorologists do not have as much detailed information, and their predictions on steering currents are off significantly.

As a controlling evaluative, I went back and checked AISV predictions for the region since its arrival, comparing that information to actual results. The rate of accuracy is excellent.

I do not have that information for Arrkarharan predictions for the same time frame and location, but given what I know of the state of their technology, research, and results, it is nowhere near as accurate.

In my opinion, the United States would be wise to heed the AISV predictions.”

“Would you mind putting that into an email for Alicia?”

“I surely will. Do you wish to send it under your cover, or directly from me?”

“Send it along under your name; it matters not who sends the information.”

“J’har, if Alicia fails to heed the warning, this could prove a huge disaster in the making.

You saw the storm path, and while that is the major element, there are other events aligning that make it a potential calamity.

First is the location – just west of New Orleans, putting the northeast quadrant right over the city. The second issue is the time of landfall, predicted to be on the approach to high tide. Third, astronomical conditions make that time the highest natural tide within a six-month window.

Adding those tidal highs with 265 kph winds and low pressure and storm surge, the combination will produce high water the levies protecting the city cannot withstand. It isn’t even close.

I have a bad feeling about this, and this government has five days to get it right.”

“Alicia asked if we had capability to modify the weather,” Jahrae shared, knowing what llhaesa thought of this approach.

“Hurricanes exist for a reason. They take latent heat and dissipate it into the atmosphere. People messing with a hurricane engine, using artificial means to preclude that exchange without evacuation of the latent heat through other technology, is a recipe for long-term disaster.

There are natural conditions that prevent hurricane formation. These conditions spread the heat globally. Absent that natural alternative, with the water left to store more heat energy, nature will simply assemble a bigger storm, like a boiling pot given yet more heat.

In addition, it would begin seriously affecting sea life as the warmer water lost oxygen content.

I assume you told Alicia we did this at one time, and learned a valuable lesson that nature is not something to trifle with, unless we account for all down-event consequences.”

“I knew you would say that, and of course, we agree. Yet to those here, who know not the repercussions, it looks tempting, ‘essa.”

Llhaesa looked down at the electronic reader still in her hands, which was open to her secure Arrhazonan email account. “I have a response from Alicia already; that was quick.”

“What does she say?”

“I’ll read it to you.

‘Thank you for sharing your analysis and concerns. You know I value your judgement, as well as your high skills in so many things, including science.

Yet I walk a fine line here. If I go with what you say, the entire government forecasting team will be furious with me.

If they prove right, they would make this a huge issue, that I trusted you ahead of them. If you prove right, countless numbers of people will die.

In the end, the fact that you point out with detail the flaws in their logic, the information that is missing from their calculations of path and intensity, leads me to believe yours is the stronger viewpoint.

FEMA tells me we need three days to evacuate the area. That buys me just a little time to work and overcome objections within our government.

I may need your assistance, along with Jahrae and that teen dynamo of yours. Hang tight, I will be back to you tomorrow.’

Thoughts, J’har?”

“It sounds like we make headway. I knew you could sway her; you could do the science on a level far beyond me.”

“Yes, but you have your strengths, my dear.

I have to laugh reading her reference to Addison, such an impression that one makes.”

“Indeed, that is especially true of the other person out with her sailing with her today.”

“Yes, well, she is impressed with Addie, and Addie is impressed with her. I know two other people like that, J’har.”

“Yes; Ronnie and Elsrensia.”

“Besides them.”

“My parents, Jesn and Chsen, or M’traliel and Khahishra?”

“Nope; try again.”

“I give up.”

“Ooh, none for you tonight, no, no, no.” llhaesa teased, wagging an index finger at her wife.

Jahrae jumped off her lounge chair and pounced square upon her wife’s lap. Llhaesa called out “oomph!” as Jahrae landed. Before she could say anything, Jahrae wrapped her arms around llhaesa, batting her eyelashes suggestively.

“None for me, tonight; really?” she asked.

“Make that tomorrow night.”

“Suppose I sit on your lap tomorrow and bat my eyelashes at you one more time; what then?”

“I will move it back another day. Meanwhile, my wifely eye candy, I see our young sailors returning to homeport. Perhaps you should consider prim and proper behaviour in front of two impressionable and receptive young minds.”

“Is this the same person who said we would never again question Addie being an adult?”

“Um, yes… I guess that argument is no longer useful. How about this…you’re squishing me!”

“Perhaps I should bounce a bit.” Jahrae wiggled and gyrated about as llhaesa audibly exaggerated the impact. “Ah-aah-aah-aah-aah-aah,” llhaesa called out in a continual, singsong fashion.

“I will remember this, J’har; plan on finding me in your lap, soon.”

“Promises, promises, ‘essa. I hope that will be tonight.”

Addison and Jahlaera walked across the lawn and up onto the deck, approaching the playful couple. Both were clad in two-piece bathing suits after having spent several hours on the lake.

“Saved by Addie! Hello, dear daughter,” llhaesa called out in greeting.

“How have I saved you, mum ‘essa?” Addie wondered.

“Your mum J’har sits here trying to seduce me. You are here to rescue me from my fate, are you not?”

“Um, no, not so much; we are here as we are done sailing and we wished to nap a bit.”

“No fair! Please help your mum out!”

“All right, I’ll help,” promised Addie, promptly sitting upon Jahrae’s lap – while she was still on llhaesa.

Jahrae laughed at Addie’s unexpected ploy, even though as with llhaesa, Addie was taller and heavier.

Addie bounced back off, giving Jahrae a high five as she returned to standing. “What have you parental units been doing, aside from lazing around in the sun and shade?”

Jahrae explained their concern over the hurricane, the concern transferred to Jahlaera as she listened.

“Jahrae, I am tasked to meteorology on the AISV, although not that weather system. I have seen their projections, read them out of curiosity, and Hlacaela is peerless in tropical cyclone research. This world ignores her at its peril.”

“Do you think President Ellenwood will act, mum?” Addie wondered.

“I am optimistic. I just hope the weather service will understand what we are saying and not let ego get in the way.

Addie, we may need to act in the coming days. There are elderly people that cannot get out. I intend to ask Alicia if she will permit us to assist.”

“How do you mean, mum?”

“We have 17 craft like Chekresu. While we can only carry a dozen to fifteen people per vehicle, we can get in and out quickly, in minutes. I intend to ask if we can use all 17 to move people.”

“And each of those craft has another smaller one like Baby Bay; those can carry 7. Mum, I can pilot one of those, so too Jahlaera.”

“I may well put both of you to work flying those small crafts. You both are part of the team. If Alicia gives approval, I will order the craft down here to assist.”

“What about animals?” Addie wondered, this an important issue for her.

“Animals come out, Addie. We aren’t leaving dogs and kitties behind to die.”

Addison smiled, but then she knew Jahrae would likely take this stand. Theirs was a family that loved animals.

“By the way, where is Pegasus?” Jahrae wondered.

“He is still sleeping on the boat, I didn’t wish to disturb him; he looked so cute.”

“Addie, go down and get him, please. I know he can come off the boat on his own, but I prefer to know he is all right,” llhaesa requested.

Addison saw llhaesa’s point and returned to Musical Diplomat to retrieve their Newfoundland, who as Addie suspected, slept happily in the boat’s cubby.

Walking back to the home, her thoughts returned to the animals that might face the brunt of the coming storm, and she silently prayed for them to find save haven.

Addison prayed every day for the people, for the animals, and for the right decision.

Alicia’s two-day window ended with her having to make a call. At that point, the government’s team conceded the conditions shifted, taking the storm further west than anticipated.

This realignment followed the Arrhazonan predicted model perfectly, yet the government team stubbornly persisted in claiming the Arrhazonan methodology faulty, that the storm would turn northeast.

What they failed to give much weight to was the Arrhazonan team’s similar prediction of a northeast turn – except their model had this turn after landfall, too late to save the city.

The President made the call, and she accepted the Arrhazonan model as the one she would heed, ordering the evacuation of New Orleans with three days to go. She ordered prices frozen within five hundred miles of New Orleans, this to prevent price gouging and profiteering.

Alicia ordered the US Army to oversee the mandatory evacuation, and she consented to Arrhazonan involvement in the effort, allowing Jahrae to commit the full complement of craft to the task.

A curfew went into effect that first night, covering the entire evacuation zone, excepting for departing evacuees. Advanced Arrhazonan technology helped guide the various evacuation teams to those resisting leaving, who planned to ride out the storm.

There were reports of refusals to bring pets, but a second order went out from the President, clearly stating all pets were to come out with their owners.

By the end of day two, the city and surrounding areas were clear of people. Government forecasters conceded the Arrhazonan model was in fact flawless to that point, providing accuracy to over 99%, over the life of the storm, now almost two weeks.

Now located in the southern Gulf of Mexico, Athena moved through an eyewall cycling, with a second eyewall forming while the first dissipated. This temporarily weakened the storm, but it was part of the predictive analysis. The timing was horribly wrong, allowing the storm time to shed a weakening eyewall system and replace it with a new and stronger one.

As if guided, the storm moved through the Caribbean, missing the island of Jamaica, passing to its south. It moved through and past the Yucatán Strait without striking Cuba or Mexico, thus maintaining its strength as it turned toward the north-northwest.

Athena moved forward at 24 kph, and with 575 kilometres to landfall, the storm was right on predicted path and time.

AISV llhaesa ahrella t’yaeli began feeding live data from the storm, eliminating the need for risky hurricane hunter flights. Over the next six hours, again as predicted, the storm moved closer to the 265 kph winds initially predicted.

When the debate over which forecast to believe raged, Third Gulf Oil & Gas chose to go with the Arrkarharan information, and in a matter of a major management communications breakdown, as well as a matter for future investigation, those in charge did not realise until too late that their crew on TGOG-72 Platform failed to evacuate.

No one passed word to the right channels on acceptance of the Arrhazonan predictive model. A crew of 212 were on the platform, directly in the path of the northeast quadrant of the storm – its strongest field.

Jahrae, llhaesa, Addie, and Serry watched news of the approaching storm, their screen split between Arrkarharan and Arrhazonan feeds. As they sat engrossed, Jahrae’s mobile rang off, the screen identifying the caller as Alicia Ellenwood, President.

“Hello, Alicia,” Jahrae called out in greeting.

“I am sorry to disturb you, J’har, but some fucking arse hole moron for TGOG failed to see to it their crew on a particular oil rig platform were evacuated. There are over 200 on there, directly in the path of the northeast quadrant.”

“You sound quite happy,” Jahrae observed.

“Oh, quite. There will be hell to pay when this is over, count on it. J’har, we need help from you and your Arrhazonan team.”

“You’ve got it. We are on our way, Alicia. We will get them off the rig safely.”

Jahrae ended the call, even as her family stirred to action. “Addie, can you get Serry over to mum Ro-”

“Mum, I wish to go,” was Addie’s instant objection.

“Addison, if you had let me finish, please take Serry over there, and hurry back; we need you with us.”

Posted in Addison, Alicia Ellenwood, Arrhazon, Arrkarhara, Jahlaera Oserehi, Jahrae, Khaehala, llhaesa | Tagged blog fiction, blog novels, books, creative writing, eBooks, feminism, feminist fiction, fiction, fiction writing, lesbian, lesbian books, lesbian fiction, lesbian literature, lesbian stories, lesbian-novels, lgbt fiction, literature, novels, online authors, online books, online novels, original fiction, science fiction, stories, story telling, writing, writing-inspiration | Leave a Comment »

XCIII – declarative adulthood

14 June, 2009 by llhaesa

The three-person team emerged from the cave hours after the last skirmish, finding the sky lightening towards the east, the sun giving advance warning of its intent to reclaim dominance in the southwest Asia area, at least for the balance of the day.

Chekresu hovered just off the narrow trail that led to the cave, the back of the craft to the trail. A wide ramp led down to the trail, allowing easy access for supplies as well as for medical needs. Ronnie and Elsrensia were off the craft, with Elsren tending to those injured or otherwise in need of medical attention.

Another Arrhazonan craft had long since departed with Mohammed Omar, the leader now in Arrhazonan custody aboard AISV llhaesa ahrella t’yaeli, at least until the Arrkarharan world determined exactly what it wished to do with him.

Addison wandered to the left as she emerged, choosing to sit upon a rock just to the side of the cave opening, her mind lost deep in thought as her vision focused vaguely in the brightening distance, her expression a melded form of satisfaction, exhaustion, and reflection.

“Mind if I join you, dear daughter?” Ronnie asked, somewhat startling Addie, her request meeting with a simple nod, her daughter patting the rock to her right, signalling for Ronnie to sit down alongside her.

Addison continued staring off towards the next mountain, not that far away from their location in the rugged terrain between Afghanistan and Pakistan. “Addie,” Ronnie began after waiting a minute to acclimate to Addie’s mood. “I understand your performance was exemplary, your contribution invaluable.

I wish you to know that…I was wrong.”

Caught be surprise by her mother’s comment, Addison shifted her thoughts, turning her head towards Ronnie. “Wrong about what, mother?”

“I was wrong to oppose your involvement. You are a woman now, not a child. You grew up right before my eyes, but apparently, I was not looking. At the very least, I was not processing the obvious.

When the three of you left Chekresu last night, I closed the door behind you and cried. I leaned back against the door and cried, Addison. It was a deeply emotional moment, and it was so because I thought this all wrong for you.

I wish you to know this, and wish you to know what a fool I was not to see my daughter as she is, for who you have become, instead of clinging to the collective compilation of memories of you in childhood.”

In times past, Addison might have cried in that moment, she might have placed her head upon her mum, sought out her comfort, her ability to make her world right. Addison yearned in a way for this, but right now, she preferred to follow another path. Something new came first this time.

“Mum, you didn’t make a mistake, and you were not wrong. You have a right, and I expect you to do this, to speak up and share your concerns, your views. Being an adult does not mean concerns vanish, that I need no longer hear them. It means that the final say with what happens with me rests with me now. That is the only difference.

Please know I expect you to express your viewpoint, always. In turn, I hope that you value what I might offer for opinion as well.” Addison leaned her head upon Ronnie’s shoulder now, a hand reaching out for her mother’s nearest arm. She paused for a moment, even as Ronnie reached out and placed her free hand on Addison.

Addie gave an affectionate squeeze with her hand, resuming sharing what scrolled through her mind. “They were not easy, the events of overnight. I had to fight, and I had to inflict hurt; fortunately, I did not have to kill.”

“Llhaesa told me two died and six were wounded in the fighting, including Mohammed Omar, whom you finished off.”

“I did what I had to do.”

“I have seen the recording made by the remote devices, Addison. What you did in that instant was…astounding. It was astounding in assessing and evaluation, astounding in deciding to act, in its decisiveness, and in execution.

As I watched, the emotion that welled up inside of me, well, I am not ashamed to say I jumped up and cheered for you, cheered with you, I felt with you in spirit.

You put an end to things, and maybe, just maybe, saved Jahrae from harm. You…are your mother’s daughter, and I mean that in the sense of the four of us collectively.

There is more, Addie, but…I will let Jahrae share it with you, later.”

“Share what?” Jahrae asked, approaching her seated co-parent and daughter.

“Addison and I were discussing how wrong I was to oppose her participation, how she is an adult to us now. We also talked on what happened overnight. And just now, I mentioned there is something you might wish to share with her, a bit of news.”

Jahrae caught her meaning, a smile pulling over her face. “There is news, Ronnie, although I don’t think a smooch from me and Chief of Government Gl’nsiel is all that big a deal, do you?”

Addison looked up, her eyes wide, telegraphing curiosity. “Smooched by the Chief of Government, what on earth for?” she wondered aloud.

“What of me? My kisses do not count?” Jahrae teased, prolonging the play, delaying the answer.

“I value you kissing me, mum J’har, but you parents do that all the time. Why does the CoG wish to do this?”

“Well, she usually does – actually we both do – when someone is awarded the Choice of Jahrae.”

A look of shocked surprise pulled over Addison’s face, her mind realising the implication of the words just spoken, that she was to receive the highest honour awarded by the Arrhazonan world.

“No way!” Addie exclaimed, her smile betraying her pride.

“Yes, it is true, Addison, and so I suggest you brush up on your speechmaking, not that that is a problem in this family,” Jahrae confirmed.

“Not long ago, I probably would run now,” Addie reflected on the changed circumstance. “I put some distance between message and event on one hand, and facing the results on the other. Now, I am honoured, especially given for whom the citation is named, mother.”

“Addison, thank you,” Jahrae replied, touched not only by her daughter’s words, but also by something more. “Not just for your words. What you did in there,” Jahrae began explaining, nodding towards the cave entrance, “was brilliant, and I have not yet had a chance to express my appreciation in a way I would like.

I drew Omar out, because we wished him hostage, not dead. Instead of allowing that skirmish to continue, you acted when you saw clear opportunity, and you made it work. One cannot teach such evaluative and decisive judgement.”

“Mum, how do you know when to act in a way that is lethal? I am not at all certain I could go that far. Would that have put you at risk?”

“Addison, none of us wish to kill, in fact you know we collectively hate it. Yet when I see a situation before me where one of my family in this case or of my team in a generic sense faced a threat that included the possibility of death, I act.

With both deaths, one caused by me, one by mum ‘essa, we both were out of reach of the assailant, and both imminently threatened, one llhaesa and I, the other threatening you.

In that situation, out of reach, death possible, you would know to act. Please do not question yourself, it is unnecessary, especially in view of the courage you showed in hand-to-hand fighting. Addie, that is the hardest element for people, the hand-to-hand skirmishes, yet you performed brilliantly.

I like that you are reluctant; do not try to overcome that reluctance, we always need to carry it within us.”

“You all have such a great way of viewing the world, it makes so much sense, it feels so right,” Addison praised, feeling better for this conversation.

With the air warming, Ronnie noticed sweat forming on her daughter’s face, and so she reached over and pulled off the black skullcap that still covered her hair, Addie’s hair pacified by the dreadlocks, preventing a wholesale hair rebellion. “I do not believe you need this on any longer, my dear. Let’s see that lively dreadlocked head of Addison hair!”

“Thanks mum, I guess I should change out of this clothing, but I’m not ready to move as yet. I like chatting with you.”

Llhaesa approached, her cap also removed, hair flowing freely. “Word is out, folks,” she casually remarked. “Networks now have the story of Jahrae as captive, of her rescue, and of the capture of Omar. Oh, there is one other little detail. They also know that Addison is the one who took out and captured him, and they are running the video footage we provided to governments. What they show again and again is Addison disabling him.”

“Oh, no!” Addison groaned.

“The producers of the movie love you, Addie. You keep increasing their profits before the movie ever releases!” Ronnie observed in humour, though the statement was likely factual.

“No worries there mum. I will keep acting and my responsibilities in life separate. As a part of this family, I feel a total commitment to all the lot of us stand for.”

“There is still more,” llhaesa casually tossed out to the group.

“More?” Jahrae asked, trying to prompt an explanation.

“Yes. It seems several regional governments, those heretofore with poor records on women’s rights, at this moment have streets filling with women who, having watched some of the footage released of the rescue, demand equal rights.

Three governments pledged to implement new laws proclaiming gender equality.

Addison, you triggered their reaction. They saw what you did. Yes, they saw what we all did here, but you, a 17 year old, you who, after Jahrae called out Omar, after he proved deceitful in the match with J’har, took him out, calmly and audibly declaring your equality as you walked away.

That footage repeats over and over on media.”

“Mum, I fear for the women in the streets. Are they in danger?” Addie wondered.

“Good point and question,” Jahrae replied. “There is always danger when people run up against despots, but the greater good comes into play. I prepared to give my life, as did llhaesa, during the time leading to and through the revolution on Arrhazon.

I do not wish to see people die, and somehow, I think what happened here made it just a little safer for them, to be honest. You, all of us… did wonderfully.”

“Addie,” llhaesa began, “we have not had a chance to discuss what happened when we were apart. I could sense you take out two, but without seeing the video that others have seen, I am curious to know what you did leading to strike at both.”

“One had his back to me as you took out the attacker, apparently unaware of my presence. I was sheltered and pounced. He went down easily.

The second saw me, but could not raise his weapon all the way to fire. I helped him raise it; he lost a few teeth from the weapon, he probably felt like losing his lunch next, because I struck him in his gut before the weapon even hit the ground, finishing with a strike upward with my foot. That probably cost a few more teeth.

I was pretty fired up at that point.”

“Mum ‘essa told me right then, after she explained you taking out two more, that you could take on a tiger and win,” Jahrae smiled, sharing the remark made at the time.

“I felt like I could, mum J’har,” Addie agreed, a bright smile on her face.

Elsrensia walked up and indicated all the wounded were treated and evacuated. “Shall we get out of here?” she asked, knowing all would agree.

Afghani troops approached on foot, ready to take over the cave area, wishing to study it and look for information left behind by the Taliban.

The family climbed aboard Chekresu, while llhaesa took to piloting. She, as with the others, felt tired but playful, and so llhaesa took off as if following the path of a corkscrew, heading upward, the inner force dampener preventing anyone from feeling the spiralling effect and getting sick. The only clue was the circular movement of clouds outside their clearsteel viewscreen to their front.

Llhaesa performed a few more aerobatics before heading off for the AISV. Upon arrival, the family decided to tend to personal hygiene and sleep, agreeing to gather later that day.

Each of those involved showered and took to their beds, sleeping a solid eight hours before the first of them woke in early afternoon. As usual, llhaesa was first up, dealing with her restlessness by making an early afternoon breakfast of apple and cheese crepes.

Anticipating demand, she made enough to feed those sleeping in their suite and a good deal more. The sweet aroma of baked apple and melting cheese was ill content to remain confined to the kitchen area, and soon the lagging sleepers meandered into the kitchen, following the call of their noses.

“Damn but those smell good, ‘essa,” Jahrae remarked. “Do you mind if I try one? I am famished!”

“Of course, silly, please do. I made enough for an army.”

“Ugh, no army talk.”

“Oh; sorry about that, J’har. I made enough for captives.”

Jahrae groaned over the bad pun, moving over and behind llhaesa and giving her an affectionate squeeze. “I love you, despite the awful pun. You make good crepes, so you have that as a good point.”

“Oh, are you making a list of good points and bad points?”

“No, I just assemble a list of your good points.”

“I am honoured, J’har, although the list will be short.”

“Nice try, no believe.”

“What smells good?” asked Addie, she and Serry making their way into the kitchen. As with their parents, both were in nightwear covered with a robe.

“Mum ‘essa decided to use smell to attract us out of bed, knowing we were all hungry. I suggest we start in eating it all, and make her work harder for the effort.”

Ronnie and Elsrensia arrived minutes later, they too digging into the homemade crepes, Elsrensia sampling the llhaesa specialty for the first time, while Ronnie was used to llhaesa making crepes, albeit as Tim.

Ronnie’s mobile rang off, the calling party identified as from the White House. “Ronnie here,” she answered, wondering what happened now.

“Yes, yes, I understand. Please give me time to discuss this with the family, and I will call back in a while.”

Ending the call, Ronnie shared its purpose. “We are desired in Washington. The President wishes to discuss the rescue and its aftermath with us. She specifically requested us four parents, but especially insists on Addison attending.”

“What about me?” Serry asked, disappointed.

“I am sorry, honey, but this is one time you will have to stay with your grandparents. This will be all business, at least for the most part. You would be bored.”

“Oh, all right. Do you think they will take me to the Arboretum?”

“Yes, I do think you can convince them to do that, Serry, if you ask really nicely,” Jahrae advised.

Within an hour, they notified the White House of their intent to attend, and with Jahrae piloting, landed there uneventfully; albeit a bit slower than if llhaesa was at the helm.

The five made their way to the Oval Office, settling upon oppositional-facing sofas, joined by President Ellenwood, Barbara Millwood, and Marcia Paang.

“Thank you for coming once again on short notice,” the President began. “I have watched the footage recorded by the Arrhazonan equipment, and I must say you are a group few would ever wish to tangle with.

Addison, for a 16 year old to do as you did – and yes, I recognise you are not all that far from 17 – is remarkable. Small wonder that you sat here three days ago, making your impressive case to include you on the rescue team.

In the process, you changed this world just a little bit more, Addie. I know your intent was to rescue your mum, but your dedication, your will to do what was right, to take part defending what you believe and whom you love, has struck at the hearts of people around the world.

Undoubtedly, by now you are aware of media reports. What other governments say to us in private is just as affirming, even more so. Governments, those with declarative leaders, move to institute equal rights, knowing the women in their streets today will not accept anything less. Those with legislatures will follow the legislative pathway to change.

The Taliban, with Omar disgraced, is a collapsing political movement. One of their next in line leaders now claims they never advocated against women’s rights.

Chief of Government Gl’nsiel sent along a message that you would receive Arrhazon’s highest honour, and well, I am not going to pile on here, but I agree with the sentiment behind that decision.

Addie, I asked all of you here to see if you would agree to do regular reports from Arrhazon, share your experiences as you discover half of your heritage. Yours is a generation of great hope, and you can be a voice for them, to all generations.

I am asking in order to avoid network squabbling over which one has access to what you send back in the reports. I would like it to be for everyone, worldwide.

The reports would share one world with another in a positive way, encouraging and inspiring.”

“Ms President,” Addison mused, “what happened in the cave was not completely positive. I fought, threw people down a mountain slope, knocked others unconscious, and intentionally broke Mohammed Omar’s arm.

I prefer to encourage change through non-violence, and it is a bit distressing that it is violence, that one my age engaging in violence, no matter the justification, should prove to be the catalyst that inspires a world.

What am I missing here?”

The President leaned back, drawing a breath. “You are astute, and you ask appropriate questions; I doubt anyone here is surprised by this.

It isn’t really the violence, Addie; it is taking action, doing something to defend what is right. You helped rescue your mother, taken hostage by an unscrupulous movement that works to oppress women as a key element of its advocacy and conduct.

You stood up against the Taliban; you treated them as insignificant, as powerless. Think of this another way. For many in that part of the world, they seemed almost all powerful, always near to do harm to someone in their family if they disapproved of some innocent little thing they happened to do – like a man shaving, or a woman who walked in town with her head uncovered.

You showed their power is intimidation, but that it is an illusion. If people stand up to them, they lose. You shattered their invincibility. That you did this by fighting them, well, people understand why you fought. That was not a school debate, they chained your mum in a cave, and you all did what you had to do to get her out of there safely.

This world saw a young woman do what she must to save her mother. When the Taliban tried to stop you, you had no choice but to act.

The world also knows you are non-violent at heart, Addison. They know that is true of your mothers as well, which is why in two years, we see remarkable change in our collective world outlook.

I would guess, if you were to ask your mothers, they would tell you there was a moment in time where circumstances called to them to embrace who they were, what called to them to do in life. You are on the side where a calling will beckon, and you will embrace your future, your place in life.

We already know, or at least see strong hints, that you are a future leader. In some ways, given what shows in our news media now, you already are, joining your parents.

You leave for two years, two years of exploring a wondrous heritage you have yet to see in person. I would love to see what you see, hear what you think, how you react and evaluate to what you witness, what you experience, the people you meet, the things you do.

Even though you will be away, you can still work for change here, because this world needs you, Addie, just as we need your parents. You can help us learn with you, help us continue to grow, and move toward the ideals set by your family.”

Rather than Addison answering, llhaesa jumped in. “Ultimately and unlike the decision for her inclusion on our rescue team, this decision is up to Addie.

That said, never again will any of us question or debate her inclusion. Speaking for Ronnie, Jahrae, and Elsrensia, our daughter earned her adulthood; she proved her ability, her maturity, and her judgement, to us. It is now a given, as it is one of us to another.

I try to picture visiting a new world, the world I left learning through me, with me; I do not know this experience. I arrived here thinking I was of this world, with memories created for me, my mind programmed with details of Arrkarhara.

This idea has merit, but it only has merit if its doer finds the wish to do within her soul. I do not fault anyone who finds it not something they wished to tackle, but if Addie wishes to do this, I support her choice.”

Jahrae, Ronnie, and Elsrensia nodded in agreement, while Addie merely smiled, replying, “I would love to do this, on the condition my reports would be exactly as you suggest: freely accessible by the world.”

Posted in Addison, Alicia Ellenwood, Arrhazon, Arrkarhara, Barbara Millwood, Dr Elsrensia K’avahra, Gl'nsiel, Jahrae, Marcia Paang, Ronnie, Serada, llhaesa | Tagged blog fiction, blog novels, books, creative writing, eBooks, feminism, feminist fiction, fiction, fiction writing, lesbian, lesbian books, lesbian fiction, lesbian literature, lesbian stories, lesbian-novels, lgbt fiction, literature, novels, online authors, online books, online novels, original fiction, science fiction, stories, story telling, writing, writing-inspiration | Leave a Comment »

XCII – hostage to the hills part II

14 June, 2009 by llhaesa

The night air carried a surprisingly coolish feel, although their clothing, heightened sensory awareness, and continual activity more than offset the unexpected chill.

The moon was absent in the clear-night, star filled sky, the repetitive celestial calendar notching forward one day as always, working its predictable progression in their favour by blanketing them in an added layer of cloaking darkness.

Three figures stealthily moved through the dark, confident through thorough and continual surveillance that they were the only ones outside of shelter in their immediate environs. Their goal was a well-hidden cave that analysts aboard AISV llhaesa ahrella t’yaeli located, the detention venue for Jahrae Khentavra, wife to one and mother to another of the determined team of three.

Addison won her reasoned argument in favour of llhaesa, Commander H’ahlser, and she comprising the rescue team, although it was not absent contention, with approval remaining in doubt over the day following the White House meeting.

Ronnie and Elsrensia both vehemently objected, but after an articulate and convincing defence of the proposal by Addison, one llhaesa seconded, ultimately both reluctant parents realised that the unique talents of mother and daughter might prove invaluable, perhaps indispensable, in a successful rescue of Jahrae.

When Chekresu dropped off the team to begin their approach and rescue, Ronnie cried as soon as the door closed behind them, unbelieving that she ever agreed to Addison’s participation in what was after all a military operation, with real weapons and people willing to kill, with people likely to die.

Elsrensia futilely attempted to offer comfort to her distressed partner, finally trying to return to the practical reason that led to the earlier decision to allow the mission to proceed. “Addison never would have accepted a sideline role, Ronnie, no longer. You know that, we both do. She is of an age now, of a stage of life, of almost peerless ability, in a family that has a tradition of acting. It is her heritage, and we have to give Addison greater leeway and respect.

You heard her defend the proposal; you heard her analysis. Did that sound like a child to you? Is she someone who has little clue of how to handle herself? And you have seen her workouts, her demonstrated agility, strength, and stamina.

Llhaesa told me she tried every possible way to refute Addison, to find a hole in her logic, but there were none. In the end, she felt more harm might result by denial of her reasoned point of view than by allowing participation.

Addison is ready, Ronnie, and we need to trust in her. I know that is not easy to accept, rationally or emotionally because of the danger, but we are better served working to assist now.

Shall we observe systems data, and be ready to assist if need be?”

Saying nothing, Ronnie swiped at her eyes with a sleeve, walking away from where she stood by the door, remaining ready to release and open, wishing Addie would come on back through.

Inside the cave, the Taliban scattered throughout its slightly curving and dropping length, some deep in the cave, within a chamber where they kept Jahrae tied up and tethered to a chain set on one end in rock. Six were in a wide segment mid-cave, where there was ample light provided by candlelight, enabling them to play cards, others sleeping or on guard duty. There were 22 in or around the cave in all.

Two guards were on duty outside the cave, another two were just inside, sleeping.

The cave walls were mostly of rock, with some parts relatively smooth and unbroken, while in other sections there were jagged elements, with large outcroppings of boulders or overhanging stalactites. The size of the cave varied, from an initial opening of just three meters, widening and narrowing until one reached the larger interior chamber that held Jahrae.

Scanning revealed no one outside other than the two guards, who were first to draw the coolly analysing, planning, and calculating interest of the approaching team. Twenty metres above the guards, the team perched on the 30° slope, their advanced clear-vision eyewear wrap-glasses providing excellent vision in the dark, unlike the surreal imagery provided by the cumbersome electronics of the guards. The team patiently observed, taking careful measure of what would soon be their first prey.

Their special eyewear instantaneously adjusted to all light conditions, making removal in brighter light unnecessary. Each carried a compact, directed light weapon, something llhaesa loathed doing, but which was deemed necessary by Commander H’ahlser. These would be for last resort use, but all knew their use was likely.

Dressed entirely in black from head to feet, with black caps concealing their hair, and faces darkened as individually needed to avoid detection, the team was patient, but ready.

Using her hand to signal her intent to begin, Llhaesa moved slowly to their right side and downward, placing her just beyond the cave opening. Commander H’ahlser emulated llhaesa, moving to the opposite side of the cave from llhaesa.

Addison threw a stone coloured, three centimetres in diameter electronic device off to the left side of the leftmost guard, the device landing with a soft ‘tick’. She followed this with a second toss beyond the guard on the right. Five seconds later, each device began emitting natural sounds, slowly increasing in volume, drawing the guards off, yet with an expectation it was typical night sounds. It was their duty to check and so they casually moved to verify, given the closeness of the originating point.

The nearest guard to llhaesa moved forward slowly, until he stood with the unseen sound emitting device just to the front of his feet.

Befuddled that sounds originated from this spot yet he could not see the animal making it, he crouched down, carefully searching until he found the device. Picking it up, Addison watched his curiosity build, his mind processing, too late.

Llhaesa pounced upon the guard as if dropped from the sky, knocking him unconscious with a single, well-delivered blow.

Addison turned just in time to see Commander H’ahlser reprise this action, finishing by reaching for a specific medical device that would administer a sedative, one that would sustain the guard’s current state of unconsciousness for hours.

With the guards out of the way, Addison slid down the slope and rejoined the others, ready for the next phase of the operation. Using language skill acquired from a heavy day of study on the Arrhazonan ship, she deepened and disguised her voice, calling to the two sleeping Taliban just inside the cave entrance.

It took a second urgent calling, but the slumbering guards stumbled and wobbled out of the cave, never seeing the two Arrhazonans who jumped and took them out, each now falling back into rest, joining the initial cave guardians.

Eighteen Taliban remained between the team and Jahrae, the next task not as easy: overcoming a group of six casually playing Betrinu, a popular card game in Afghanistan. The six laughed uproariously at times, their conversation almost continually loud and animated, all of which played into the needs of the approaching team, masking any screams from unusual action.

Watching from ten metres away, the team split in two, with llhaesa and Sohrae on one side of the cave, Addie on the other. Two of the card players called a pause to the game, purposefully walking out towards the cave entrance, passing the team without seeing them as they pressed tightly into their concealed space.

Addie and llhaesa followed behind the exiting soldiers, ready to take them out. The two men reached the cave entrance and walked to the edge of the trail just outside, where the trail dropped off and continued the 30° mountain slope downward.

The two swung their weapons over their shoulders while standing in place, this action followed seconds later by a distinctive sound of liquid striking earth. The men relieved themselves, pissing over the side of the trail, down slope. Addie and llhaesa looked at each other and smirked, not quite believing their good fortune. Both sprung, immediately giving a strong shove to the Taliban soldier in front of them.

“Watch out, it’s steep. Oh, and avoid the wet spots, two idiots peed right in that area,” Addie called out in Pashto after them, the soldier’s screams receding as they slid hundreds of feet downward.

“All right, Ms Punster, we have more work to do. Let’s go,” llhaesa played along, but she had to make sure Addie stayed focused on task.

Making their way back in, Sohrae advised nothing had changed since they left.

“Mum, one of them just wondered where the other two are, but no one responded.”

“They might send someone to look for the two that disappeared, let’s wait a few minutes,” Sohrae suggested.

One of them, apparently in charge, ordered two of those remaining to go find their missing comrades. Once again, llhaesa and Addie waited, following the searchers to just outside the cave entrance, watching as they looked side to side and called out, to no avail.

One grumbled, and Addie translated quietly for her mum. “Idiots. Where in hell did they run off to, and what did they run off to do? They must have the good stuff. Wait until I get my hands on them – and that stuff!

While I am out here, I may as well pee.”

Llhaesa and Addie looked at each other, not quite believing it was this easy, bodily need as their way past this fierce group. The second mimicked the first, and as with their predecessors, both found themselves experiencing rock rash as they flipped, rolled, and slid down the mountain slope.

“Two to go and I will not wait for them to pee. With no one returning, they will go the other way, to warn the others,” llhaesa reasoned.

Reaching their temporary observation point, llhaesa drew her weapon and, pointing it at the two weapons leaning up against the cave wall, vaporised both. The soldiers, hearing what sounded like a sneering hiss, turned and jumped, before them they watched their weapons glow and then vanish, as if the weapons never existed.

Their astonished puzzlement gave the others time to reach these two remaining men, both turning into a hard palm thrusting forward into their face, one from llhaesa, and one from Addison. Each received a sedative to see them through the next several hours. The mop up team, now closing in, would deal with them and those who slid down the mountainside.

“Twelve left. These odds are getting better,” Sohrae wryly remarked. Taking out her communications interface, she called for an update on the position of the remaining twelve, as well as of Jahrae.

“There is no one close to Jahrae at the moment,” came the first piece of information.

“Of the twelve, four are sleeping off to the right side of the chamber. Jahrae remains at the far end, no one within fifteen metres of her.

Two are about to walk out towards you, but it will take them a couple of minutes to get there. Three are gathered and planning, based on the documents before them.

The other three are eating. They are the closest to you in the chamber.”

“Thank you for the update. We are preparing for the two exiting strollers; H’ahlser out.”

“Addie, blow out those two candles on the opposite wall, I’ll get these,” llhaesa advised. “Take that side of the cave this time; we will take this one.

A minute passed before the slow moving guards came within earshot, grumbling about the lack of light that apparently maintained in the area. One lit a match, searching for the candles, followed by the other repeating this action, each finding and moving to relight the candles. They never made it, courtesy of llhaesa and Addison.

“Twelve down, ten to go. It gets tougher now, and more dangerous,” llhaesa cautioned, once again for Addie’s sake. “There might well be loss of life ahead of us, but it is important to be decisive and make the right choice. Hesitation can mean the difference between success and failure.

Watch the ten of them. If any of them moves on Jahrae, anyone aims a weapon at Jahrae, use your weapon first, and take them out.

We have about an hour of time we can use and wait, evaluate what we see, but I fear reaching Jahrae unnoticed is not likely.”

The three moved inward, the air growing stagnant, more humid and dank. After five minutes, they were within hearing distance of some inside the chamber. Moving yet closer, they gained visual over 60% of the chamber; the rest would be impossible to see without revealing themselves.

While they watched, the planning meeting ended, with candles doused, darkening that side of the cave.

“I don’t believe our good fortune,” Sohrae remarked.

“I am going to Jahrae,” llhaesa announced. Be ready to act. Addie, stay in close touch to what you feel.

I will bring a second weapon for Jahrae; she will fight once free. Wish us luck!”

Llhaesa set off alone, working the left side of the chamber, staying low to the ground, the darkness of this side providing excellent cover. The effort to reach Jahrae took a half hour of nerve racking and tense minutes of starts and stops, but Addie knew when llhaesa successfully arrived, sharing this with Sohrae.

Jahrae was in diminished light rather than the darker area of llhaesa’s passage. Llhaesa saw that Jahrae was asleep as she moved closer, softly but steadily, still hugging the ground as she crawled along, pulling forward with her elbows.

Reaching Jahrae, llhaesa whispered in her ear, once, twice, thrice. Finally, Jahrae stirred, her mind taking time to adjust and take in that this was not dream, that llhaesa was in fact here with her.

“Shhhh.” Llhaesa whispered, putting a hand over her partner’s mouth. Drawing her weapon, she risked vaporising the chain tether; no one noticed as it glowed and faded away. Thereafter, she used her hands to untie the rope and pull off the duct tape that confined Jahrae.

“’Essa, you are a sight to see!” Jahrae whispered. “Are all the Taliban defeated?”

“No. There are ten left of them. There are four of us, counting you. Here, I brought you something,” llhaesa produced the second weapon.

“Who is with you, a team from AISV?”

“Um, Sohrae is with me, as is Addison.”

“Addison! Are you crazy?” Jahrae reacted with incredulity, her body pulling forward, her eyes looking for explanation.

“Shhhh! Yes, Addison; long story, no time, tell later. Trust her, trust us. Now you are the military whiz kid, we need your mind focusing on this tactically.

Addie and Sohrae are just outside the chamber on the other end. All of the Taliban are now off to our left, Addie and Sohrae’s right.

Wait…” llhaesa paused, holding up a hand, gesturing for Jahrae to give her space to sort through and evaluate the strong sensation stirring within. “Addie is upset…someone is coming toward us, J’har. This is it.”

Jahrae looked up just as llhaesa said the words, the approaching person reacting as he saw llhaesa with Jahrae. He raised his weapon, but before it reached a 45° angle on the uplift, Jahrae fired her weapon, the Taliban soldier disappearing.

Shouting erupted as nine men scrambled for their weapons and moved to get themselves into defensive positions. One fired his weapon towards the outside of the chamber, the bullet striking stone, ricocheting, and in another fortuitous event in favour of the team, the bullet struck one of the Taliban soldiers, wounding him sufficiently to prevent further involvement in the fighting.

Llhaesa could see the tip of a weapon about fifty meters away, an outcropping of rock well protecting its bearer. Calculating options, llhaesa fired her weapon at an angle, searing the exposed barrel to glowing, melting the metal just enough.

The soldier called out with laughter, thinking her effort futile. Knowing attention was upon him, he intended to show his fierceness, doing so by peaking out and firing the weapon. The barrel exploded as the misshapen blocked passage prevented discharge of the bullet, the soldier screaming as the explosion impacted his face and hands.

“Seven others left by my count, J’har. Things are looking up,” llhaesa dryly deadpanned, dropping another off a higher ledge within the chamber, the soldier trying to use height to his advantage. Intentional in her aim, the weapon struck a point just behind the soldier, shattering rock and tossing him off his flimsy toehold and to the cave floor, unconscious.

A momentary sense of fierceness washed through llhaesa as he struck the floor, taking her a split second to differentiate and realise Addie fought another soldier physically. Although she knew not the details, the feeling lasted ten seconds and stopped, with a new sense of Addie running high on adrenaline.

“Five left, J’har.”

“What? How do you know-“

Llhaesa looked at Jahrae and said nothing, her proud smile telegraphing the reason.

“Addison; you sensed it right?”

“Yes.”

“Wow! You know Omar is one of the remaining Taliban, right?”

“Yes. I would like to take him with us, alive.”

“We think alike, ‘essa, most often, including now, but he is mine to subdue.”

“He is all yours.”

“By the way, what took you so long?” Jahrae remarked, teasing, adding a bit of levity in surreal conditions.

“Took me so long? You were captured two days ago!” llhaesa looked at her partner with a quick, disbelieving glance, her attention immediately returning to surveying cave environs. “How much faster can one rescue a hostage from this primal area?”

“Immediately?”

“And how was I to know you were a hostage, Ms ‘I think it should be me who meets them’?” Before Jahrae could say anything, llhaesa remarked, “Damn, Addie just physically took out another one. Our daughter, the proud and fierce warrior, protector of life; who knew?

Make that four on four now, J’har. Damn, but she is driven. She could take out a tiger right now.

It is time to ask for their surrender; enough of this.”

“No! If you ask, Omar will evaluate circumstance, see no way out, and likely take his own life. I wish him to remain alive.

That means we have to capture him whilst fighting, overcome when he does not think he will lose.

Jahrae yelled out in Pashto. “Mohammed Omar! Two days ago, you spoke of your strength, of the weakness of women compared to you.

Are these the words of a boastful man who is all talk, unable to back up what he tells his compatriots of his great prowess?”

Pausing, Jahrae waited to see if he would take the initial bait. Not yet. While awaiting a response, llhaesa communicated with Sohrae, advising of their intent to capture Omar, and to keep any advancing troops away.

“Mohammed, are you listening to me?” Jahrae tried to push further. “I know you can hear me, and to pretend you do not is yet another manifestation of your idle and empty boasting, your incapability of doing.

I propose you fight me. You, who claim bravery as your mantra, you who claim women should be uneducated, you who believe women weak, who believe women should be subservient. Are you man enough to back up your words with your deeds…or are you all talk?”

Jahrae stopped there, waiting. Seconds passed, although in the current conditions, knowing exact passage of time was at best a poor guess.

A voice echoed from off to her left side. “How is it you propose we fight, woman?”

“Hand to hand, no weapons.”

A laugh claimed audible dominance within the chamber, replacing the anticipated words of acceptance or denial. As the laugh ended, his response followed. “This is foolish; you give yourself up, anticipating you might prove your feisty delusion of equality? Very well, I accept your terms. Drop your weapon and come out, as will I.”

Jahrae dropped her weapon where it would be visible from afar, watching from cover to see if he did the same. He did.

Addie, Sohrae, and llhaesa remained behind cover, their weapons ready.

The two adversaries moved tentatively, finally reaching the centre, standing but a metre apart. Llhaesa caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her right eye, one of the three remaining soldiers moving on Addison. She stood and fired, ending that threat, and his life.

Addie’s surprise and dismay at the surprise attack stirred strong within llhaesa, these emotions washed over and replaced by steadfast will, a mind determined. Seeing another soldier exposed but six metres away intently watching the imminent skirmish between Jahrae and Mohammed Omar, Addison charged, catching the soldier off guard. Two solid strikes with forceful, mercurial moves made short work of him, leaving but one other soldier in cover and posing a continuing threat.

Panicking, this last soldier sprang from his hiding place midway between llhaesa and Addison, taking aim not at Addison, but at Jahrae. Llhaesa, hurriedly reacting to the threat, fired, striking the man’s forearm and weapon, both disappearing. He collapsed into unconsciousness, the wound instantly cauterised, a scream caught in his throat.

Using this last wounded and collapsing solider as a deceitful diversion, Mohammed Omar drew a knife from behind his back, the covering diversion failing to deceive the witnessing Addison. Seeing the long and serrated blade now held by the wildly grinning Omar, Jahrae’s hands came up in defence, while Omar worked for advantage in positioning, the two circling around a common centre of gravity, eyes locked one upon the other, searching for weakness.

Llhaesa stepped forward, moving toward the centre chamber and the two combatants, carefully watching their circular dance. Addison joined with her, both moving closer; each knowing that before them was a high stakes match that must end with only one outcome.

The positions between Omar and Jahrae remained the same relative to one another, but shifted to the others as they circled, looking for the right moment to strike.

Omar circled to a spot that left him with his right, weapon held side to Addison, who having had enough, leapt forward through the air, seizing Omar’s knife wielding arm with both hands while in mid-leap, forcefully bringing the arm down against her rising knee, snapping the limb as if a twig. The knife fell away as Addison resettled to the ground, other sound within the chamber lost in a scream formed of anger and physical distress.

Unfinished, a millisecond after her feet regained purchase, Addie spun the shocked Taliban leader around with her left hand yet retaining a firm hold, her right hand coming up to strike square in his face, knocking the broken leader unconscious.

“Weak my arse, you moron,” Addie softly declared, to Omar, to the Taliban, to the universe, while pulling her striking hand away. She let loose her grip upon his limp body, turning and walking away toward other tasks, letting Mohammed Omar symbolically drop in place, to insignificance, upon the hard cave floor.

Posted in Addison, Arrhazon, Jahrae, Sohrae H’ahlser, llhaesa | Tagged blog fiction, blog novels, books, creative writing, eBooks, feminism, feminist fiction, fiction, fiction writing, lesbian, lesbian books, lesbian fiction, lesbian literature, lesbian stories, lesbian-novels, lgbt fiction, literature, novels, online authors, online books, online novels, original fiction, science fiction, stories, story telling, writing, writing-inspiration | Leave a Comment »

XCI – hostage to the hills part I

12 June, 2009 by llhaesa

The clandestine meeting, arranged for through the passage of messages through a supposedly neutral intermediary, was to take place in a nondescript home in a remote village, one that she apparently now walked.

Not of this place, the visitor moved forward cautiously but confidently, making her way alone, as instructed. The late afternoon sun and heat remained oppressive, although the sky blue chadri she wore was cooler than she first imagined it might be when pulling it over her cargoes and tee shirt.

Encumbered by the head-covering portion, she felt unease with restricted vision, the covering only affording an opening on front of her face just around her eyes, with this modest opening crossed with wide mesh netting.

Minutes earlier, taking in her surroundings as best she could after disembarking from a rickety old bus, the alien traveller felt the pull of curiosity from the area’s diversity, of experiencing a new culture, a new place, a new people. In other times, she would welcome this experience, relish meeting the villagers and spending time learning of their lives.

The village she now walked through was of modest size, perhaps a cluster of forty homes. She could not even remember the village name now, silently admonishing herself for forgetting such a basic element of this effort. “Somewhere outside Betawul, southeast of Jalalabad,” she recalled, partially.

The homes were of like construction, sand coloured and made of mud-brick, one story, and modest in appearance. Clustered in the midst of a valley, farmlands surrounded the village, but in the distance, mountains claimed geographical stewardship of this area, a notoriously inhospitable environment not far from where Osama bin Laden was reputed to hide.

Walking down this street, shadows grew longer, reaching east-northeast, creating interesting geometric patterns as they found the unique configurations of an adjacent home. People worked around their property, although they were mostly women, dressed like she. Some turned and watched for a minute as she passed, recognising something different, someone different, in their midst.

Small villages in the isolated area were close-knit places, everyone knows everyone else. They did not know her, and she knew that despite her efforts to cloak in the dress of the villagers, she stood out.

Height was one immediate and obvious difference between them. Few women were as tall as she was in this region of the world. Another was her unfamiliarity with place and customs, but the major element of differentiation was being a stranger in a village that was home to perhaps 300 people in all.

Walking slowly, she tried to hold tight to patience. Her destination was somewhere in this village. Beyond that, it was a matter of walking and waiting.

The idea, the inclination to accept the mysterious and vague proposal, was a high-risk gamble from the beginning, one that prompted lively debate before the final decision to proceed.

Ten days before, Llhaesa received an anonymous request through back channels, asking her to meet with a high-ranking representative of the Taliban, the meeting purportedly to discuss ending the group’s efforts to seize control of Afghanistan, but do so in some way that allowed it to retain a semblance of dignity.

The risks outweighed the potential gains and they knew that from the outset. Jahrae objected to llhaesa attending, thinking that llhaesa was the one person among them who was indispensable, the one person among them who, in the Taliban’s hands as a captive, could serve to grab and sustain the attention of a world. Setting aside personal considerations, this reasoning held that it would show her powerless against them, and might well make subsequent change more difficult.

Jahrae instead proposed she should be the one to go. As Ambassador to Arrkarhara, as someone a bit less visible publicly yet experienced in negotiation, as one with diplomatic protection, there would be less attention and less potential threat, while subsequent extraction would also prove easier due to diplomatic status.

A lively debate ensued over which should go, but in the end and reluctantly, llhaesa agreed to this approach, though as usual, she would rather take risks herself and not jeopardise anyone else.

In order to avoid publicity, the second message they received indicated that llhaesa should travel by traditional means. This meant flying into Kabul, and then relying on unreliable means of ground transportation to navigate across some of the most dangerous, inhospitable environments in the world.

The anonymous, long-distance bargainers agreed on date and time, though the process of final agreement took three days. Jahrae set off, with Elsrensia implanting a chip that could track her whereabouts, and which Arrkarharan technology could not trace or discover.

The journey to Afghanistan took two days just to reach Kabul, and another day to Jalalabad. After four hours or riding in the rickety vehicle, Jahrae walked along, biding her time until others took her away.

It happened quickly. Two men stealthily approached from behind, each coming up alongside Jahrae and taking her arms firmly in their hands. The men guided her off the street and into one home, where they placed her in a room, leaving her alone.

At least a few hours passed, the day moving rapidly toward night, before someone re-entered the room. “We go now,” was all he said, his hand gesture more a command than call, his purpose to guide her to an enclosed outdoors area, one with but a hole in the ground and a small stone table off to the side. He left her without further comment. She knew its purpose, and put it to good use. Although Jahrae had not thought about the need to urinate, she felt some relief after the fact.

A bowl of water and accompanying towels sat on a small stone slab, and she used this to wash thereafter. Finished, she stepped out, where one person stepped forward and tied a black bandanna around her head, removing any ability to see.

Once again, two men guided her, stopping as she heard an electronic humming sound, and based on the movement of sound, they scanned her for electronics.

Satisfied she was clean of tracking or eavesdropping equipment, they guided her into a vehicle, pushing her inward. Based on voices, there were now men on either side of her in the vehicle, and two in front of her. The drive that followed proved long and boring, her stomach gaining queasiness from the combination of blindfold and jarring.

Sleep mercifully overtook her, only to have someone shake her awake, the vehicle now stopped. Her neck felt stiff from the odd angle at which she apparently slept, but she forgot about this as the man on the left pulled her out of the vehicle, unnecessarily rough in this action.

She stumbled while following their strong-armed guidance, stumbled again as she navigated up one short step, regaining her balance, moving forward. A door closed behind her, the blindfold promptly removed, soft candlelight flickering and teasing her eyes as she regained her vision.

Turning back and looking towards the door, Jahrae noted that those who brought her had disappeared. Taking in her surroundings, she startled as two men walked in from an adjacent room, each taking a seat in one of three chairs in the room, one facing in opposition to the other two, about two metres apart.

The singular chair was for her.

One man motioned for her to sit, and so she promptly dropped onto the chair. “I am removing my head covering now,” she spoke in passable Pashto. Jahrae pulled back the covering, liking the feel of fresh air around and on her face.

“You are Jahrae Khentavra, Ambassador of Arrhazon?” the one on the right asked.

“Yes,” she simply replied.

“What of your wife? We requested to meet with llhaesa. No matter now, you are here.

Why is it you wish to change our culture, Ms Khentavra? What is it you gain from this advocacy?”

“I gain nothing. Your world, this community, this culture, gains peace, prosperity, and the strength of having all its citizens strive to be all they wish to be in life.”

“Surely there is something in it for you; no one acts without the prospect of personal reward,” the man on the right countered.

“I am not in need of additional wealth, you should know this already, but if you do not, it is fact. Our combined assets, those of my wife and I, surpass that of anyone else on your world.

We have no use for most of it, well, we do; we put it to good use helping others through five foundations on Arrhazon, and three – so far – here.

Our relationship from the first has been about achieving peace and equality, working to build a society where we take care of one another, moving all prosperously into the future.

I assume you know we have a track record of success.”

“I am aware of your claims, Jahrae. It is obvious you have some resources at your disposal. I do not mean to suggest you lie, only that we do not have clear evidence of the full range of your wealth.

No matter, that is small talk.

Your advocacy would bring sin to our people, it would destroy our culture, pull them away from Allah. We…cannot have this, we cannot let this happen.”

“I do not wish to interfere in religion, whatever your name is. You could share it with me if you wish to continue this dialogue.

Anyway, I value your culture, but it can change and retain its uniqueness. What needs to change is your ill treatment of women, along with this incessant need to impose your religious beliefs upon people who should be free to decide for themselves.

Just to be clear, I have little use for missionaries from other religions showing up and trying to pressure people in different directions, yet another practise that must end, worldwide. People have minds; they can use them to decide for themselves.

I am curious; if you stand in opposition to my efforts and that of my team, why are you here and why are we talking today?”

“I am here to make our views known, not to you, but to the world.”

“You have a funny way of reaching out to share your views, given the secrecy involved.”

“Yes, well, we will make news when we are ready, not before.”

“Tell me, why do you believe yourself to be my equal?”

“I believe everyone is equal to one another.”

“Really now, that is an interesting but unrealistic point of view. For instance, I am stronger than my colleague on my right.”

“We all have our strengths and weaknesses, but it is important we make use of law; we must all be equal for society to grow and thrive, give room for us to develop our particular strengths.”

“I have yet to meet a woman who is my equal, Jahrae. Why is that?”

“Easy. You do not have a clear grasp of reality, and you assume your strengths outweigh the collective strengths of another. I would bet if I observed the women with whom you have contact, a different opinion would result.”

“You are an arrogant one; spirited, and feistier than most. It is a pleasure to take you as our hostage.

By the way, I am Mullah Mohammed Omar, you may have heard of me.”

“I have. And I must say, your conduct now in taking me hostage is typically dishonourable.”

Omar’s eyes flashed anger, but he maintained a smile of one believing he held the upper hand.

“Yes, well, words are cheap, Jahrae. Actions are what count, and right now, the Arrhazonan Ambassador to our world is now in the hands of the Taliban, who will demand a significant package of concession and assets before we agree to set you free.”

“No one will agree to your demands, Mohammed. In the end, you cannot defeat me or my people, never mind the will of a world.”

“Naturally you assume your wife will come to your rescue, but they will know that to do so will mean your death.”

“You keep telling yourself that. I hope no one dies in this, but if it happens, it won’t be me or one of us.”

Omar looked at her but said nothing, rising out of his chair and walking out, the mystery silent man leaving on his heels. Jahrae heard the door lock behind her, and knowing there would be no escape in the moment, she looked for a place to settle down and sleep.

In Henna, llhaesa impatiently waited for word from her partner. They agreed to allow an extra day post meeting time before she took action and set out to find Jahrae.

According to the tracking in the orbiting Arrhazonan ship, they knew her exact location, in a remote location of Afghanistan. Every now and then, llhaesa snuck out to Chekresu and activated the systems, checking to verify the signal still existed.

Still, waiting was frustrating, borne of ignorance of what happened in the meeting, with some sense of being limited in how she might respond if Jahrae was in peril.

Llhaesa did not have to wait long for news. A White House staffer called, asking if llhaesa could get to the White House within the next hour; President Ellenwood, now in her second term, had called an emergency meeting.

Llhaesa decided to take Baby Bay to Washington; that way, she need not bother anyone else capable of flying Chekresu along with her. She did decide to take Addison, valuing her daughter’s opinions, with the expectation that if anything untoward unfolded, Addison would be wishing to help.

Her stomach knotted from worry, llhaesa flew them to their destination without engaging in playful antics. Something was up, and until it resolved, she was all business.

Upon landing at the White House, staff escorted llhaesa and Addison to the Oval Office, where President Ellenwood waited along with Marcia Paang and surprisingly, Susan Woodward. The friends exchanged greetings, all expressing surprise over and approval for Addison’s presence.

“From all I have seen and heard, Addison,” the President remarked, “you are quite a capable young woman, one who can be of assistance now.”

The President did not wait for a response, instead choosing to get into the matter at hand. “I regret to say this, but Jahrae is now a captive of the Taliban.”

Llhaesa was unsurprised by this news; she knew they would not act honourably. “How did you learn of this, Alicia?” llhaesa inquired.

“Our embassy in Kabul received this, it was delivered by currier.” The President handed over a two-page document, one written in English, informing of Jahrae now being a captive and listing the demands the captors wished met.

“It is signed by Omar,” the President pointed out.

“Excuse me,” llhaesa calmly offered, leaving her chair and moving away from the group. The others watched as she dialled her mobile, connecting to AISV llhaesa ahrella t’yaeli. “Commander H’ahlser,” she called out, directing the automated system.

“H’ahlser here.”

“Commander, this is llhaesa. I am in the office of President Ellenwood in Washington. The United States government has received information that Jahrae is now a hostage of the Taliban.

Please institute additional surveillance measures on her indicated location, and initiate a plan to rescue. Just plan for now, we will decide on our course once we have more information, of which that planning is a part.”

“Understood, llhaesa, we will begin this work immediately. Oh, and llhaesa…hang in there, she will be all right.

I will speak with you in a bit after looking over our information.

H’ahlser out.”

Llhaesa had decided to put their conversation on speaker, allowing the others to hear.

“At least we have her location, llhaesa, not that they will keep her there. How reliable are those tracking transmitters?”

It isn’t a transmitter; the system is passive, and our systems detect distinctive natural emissions that are unique to Arrhazon. On this world, that stands out sharply.

Even if they moved Jahrae a mile underground, in all likelihood, we would still detect that unique signature.”

“Is it a metal?” Susan wished to know.

“No; at least not a metal anyone on this world would know, Susan. If they scan for metals, they will not find that chip.”

Llhaesa’s mobile rang off, and seeing the caller’s identity, she answered immediately. “Yes, Commander?”

“Jahrae is being moved, llhaesa. She is on her way into the mountains on foot, though our visual reconnaissance indicates she is all right, not tied and bound.

It will not be easy to complete a successful rescue. Taking out the weapons will still leave trained fighters who can do much harm without weaponry.

My best recommendation is for us to work stealthily, but avoiding bloodshed might not be possible this time.

There are approximately twenty of the Taliban with her, all heavily armed, and she is in the middle of that pack, moving upslope.

We mapped out their course; several trails lie ahead of them they might follow. We have followed each one from here, and interestingly, one leads to a cave.

Our sensors indicate the cave is deep and naturally suited to a good defence from within. We have surveillance in place inside, so we have that advantage.”

“Good work, Commander. We are continuing to discuss options here. I will get back to you when I arrive at home.” Llhaesa folded her mobile and turned to the others, ready to resume their conversation.

“I agree with what you just said, llhaesa. At least we have location and good information, something not often available to us in hostage situations, particularly in that part of the world,” Alicia opined.

“Mum, I am not at all certain a large team can achieve what we need to accomplish. In my opinion, those present spoil for a fight, and a full on assault will just escalate into unpredictability,” Addie offered, sharing her thoughts for the first time.

Everyone looked toward her, surprised at the young woman’s cogent and pragmatic evaluation.

“That makes sense, Addison,” Marcia Paang concurred. “The question becomes “if not that, what then?”

“Then…a small team goes in, and that small team will be mum ‘essa, Commander H’ahlser, and…me.”

Everyone looked at her again, stunned, clearly disapproving of her inclusion. Llhaesa tried a tactful approach. “Addie, I know you care, and in fact you are capable. You are also not quite 17, and we cannot allow you to risk your life.”

The others nodded in agreement, but Addie was having none of that reasoning. “Mum, I may not yet be 17, but I am athletic and think on my feet. You know I can handle myself, and if anyone doubts that, show me to a gym; in ten minutes, you will change your mind.

There are other reasons. Mum and I are virtual twins in appearance, something that can be used to our advantage, and a split second of uncertainty on their part can make all the difference.

In addition, they think lightly of women in general, and do not believe women are capable of putting up an effective fight against them. They would be in for an unexpected surprise.

We are highly motivated, we fight for our family, and if they think of themselves as motivated, it pales compared to ours.

Finally, our intangible connection, mum, will serve us well in those conditions.”

Llhaesa was unsure whether to feel pride over her daughter’s reasoned analysis, or just play parent and dismiss her points no matter how valid.

Curiosity stirred in the others, with Susan giving voice to the question on all of their minds. “What intangible connection are you referring to, Addison?”

“I will answer this one, Addie,” llhaesa jumped in, knowing this might surface, but hoping it would not. Now, it was best she explained. “You can see the tangible connections between us, a mother and daughter that look eerily like identical twins, and the similarities extend beyond what you see, to our skill, our intelligence, and so on.

There is more. Addison can feel the emotion within me, as I can within her.”

Alicia looked at llhaesa, her eyes studying, while her mind evaluated. “Llhaesa, what you both feel is a flimsy, intuitional connection at best, not something to rely on in such trying circumstance.”

“Actually, it is neither flimsy nor unreliable. This connection worked even when I was on Arrhazon and Addison was here. Now if it works across 51 light years of open space, I would imagine it would work within one cave, no matter how big.

Addison, would you please step out of the room, walk away from the door, walk down a hall, anything away from here. One of us will get you when we are ready.”

“All right, mother.” Addison got up and left. Once the door closed behind her, llhaesa turned to the others, explaining. “I am going to do a few things involving emotion. When Addison comes back in, ask her what she felt.”

Llhaesa put her left hand on the President’s desk, and promptly smashed a finger with the fist of her right hand, just enough to make it hurt for a minute or so. “Ouch, damn that smarts!”

Letting the pain fade, llhaesa thought of her dad, of how she missed him, of his gentleness, his support and belief in his daughter, his encouraging her to believe herself equal. Her eyes began to water, and a few tears slid down, two on one side of her face, one on the other.

Susan handed her a tissue, which she used to wipe away the tears. “All right, one of you pick another emotion,” llhaesa requested.

“Anger, and then embarrassment,” Marcia called out.

Llhaesa thought about Jahrae as captive, rising out of her chair, working to peel back the inner constraints that normally steered her away from anger. “I am sick and tired of these idiot terrorists messing with people, damn!”

Another adjustment period followed as llhaesa shifted her thoughts to her silly comments during appendix surgery. Her face turned red, cluing in the others watching.

“All right, that should do it. Marcia, would you go get my daughter, please?”

Two minutes later, Addison walked in with Marcia, retaking the chair she vacated minutes before.

“Addie,” Alicia asked, “did you sense any emotion emanating from your mother while you were out of the room?”

“Oh, yes! Mum, you injured a finger not long after I walked out. You thought of your dad and cried thereafter. That was followed by anger over mum J’har, and embarrassment over your comments post surgery.”

“Astounding, simply astounding,” Alicia pronounced. “That is extraordinary. Does it get in your way at times?”

“No,” Addison spoke right up, now comfortable in this environment. “It can be amusing, but it can also be a big help to one or the other. I appreciate and treasure this gift of the universe.

Now does that settle that aspect of things? The best way to approach this is a three-person team. You can have backup ready to go, but let us infiltrate that cave, and give us a chance to rescue before the remaining force acts.”

Llhaesa could not believe she was about to agree to this plan, but in her mind, Addison was right.

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XC – revenge of the acoustic guitar

11 June, 2009 by llhaesa

The knee kick struck with significant effect at mid-thigh, abruptly rousting llhaesa from what was a nice, pleasant stretch of sleep.

Smarting from the strike even as her partner continued thrashing about, llhaesa forewent activating a light in favour of decisively reaching her strong arms around Jahrae, attempting to becalm and settle.

Holding tightly, llhaesa called out softly, at least initially, then louder. “Jahrae, Jahrae! Jahrae, wake up!”

The fighting movement evolved into a controlled turn toward llhaesa. “Huh? Llhaesa, why did…” Jahrae woke, puzzled at her waking. After a moment, the dream flooded back in to memory, cutting off her words.

Llhaesa stretched back across the bed behind her and switched on the light. With that done, she returned her attention to Jahrae, catching a rather sheepish look hanging upon her partner’s face. “Did I…?”

“Did you kick me? Yes. Owie and damn but you kick hard, sheesh; you got me right on my left thigh.” Llhaesa pulled back the covers some, enough to show a bruise now forming mid-thigh.

“Oh, no; I am so sorry, ‘essa. I dreamt one of those Brotherhood members attacked you, and I…fought back, I guess rather strongly.”

“No worries. You have endured a few physical dreams on my part. We carry some baggage, we two, and when one surfaces, even in sleep we tenaciously defend each other and ourselves.

I appreciate you fought the good fight for me, and I would not wish to be the person who catches the full fury of your wrath when in defence.

I am going to pour a glass of water, would you care for one?”

“Sure, that is about all I wish to handle right now.”

Llhaesa started pulling her legs out of the covers, but her left, which was uppermost at the time and the one struck by Jahrae, only moved so far before llhaesa realised she needed to push the covers further back in order to leave the bed.

Once her feet were on the floor, she attempted to walk as if of normal health, but her leg refused to cooperate, giving out and sending her toward the floor. Just in time, llhaesa’s hands spread out before her, breaking the fall.

Managing to get back onto the bed, Jahrae moved over and rubbed her partner’s back a bit, feeling awful for inflicting the injury. “I will get the water, ‘essa. Perhaps we should have Elsrensia treat that leg?”

Leaving their bed, Jahrae walked to the bath and drew two glasses of water, returning to llhaesa’s side, handing off one glass while asking a second time if she should call Elsren.

“No, I think not, J’har. If it persists in the morning, I will seek treatment, but I’m not going to disturb her in the middle of the night because of such a silly thing.”

“Please allow me to look at it again, ‘essa. Llhaesa obliged, her legs skewed across the bed at an angle, from midway on her side towards Jahrae’s feet. “That bruise looks worse now that 5 minutes ago. Sheesh, it is at least 13 centimetres in length, and deep blue and purple. I disagree on waiting, ‘essa. You seriously hurt by morning, and I doubt you will rest well the remainder of the night.

I’m waking Elsren.”

“I feel rather silly, J’har…it’s just a bruise.”

Llhaesa’s protest fell on deaf ears, for Jahrae already dialled Ronnie and Elsren’s suite. Explaining the reason for the call, Elsren promised to be along in a few minutes.

Jahrae got up to await Elsrensia, leaving llhaesa to wallow in her sheepish misery. Within ten minutes, Elsren was in the bedroom, scanning the injury.

“That was a severe blow you struck, Jahrae, and I think it time for the two of you to start thinking on therapy to help you cope with these demons of memory. Had you struck in a different area, the injury might be far worse.

I can use the portable ACR to heal this injury, but if you struck at a spleen or kidney, llhaesa would be in the medical area now.

You can wait until we return to Arrhazon if you wish, but after that, I am going to hound you both into therapy.”

“Looks like she has us on this one, J’har, and it probably would not hurt to seek out assistance.”

“I did not wish to go before, but…yes, I will agree to go and explore whether it might help. ‘Essa, I am sorry; that injury to you scares me, especially given what Elsren just cautioned about striking a different area.”

Elsrensia reached in her medical bag and extracted the handheld ACR, placing it over the injury site and activating, the machine automatically calculating and setting time at 173 seconds from start to heal.

“My apologies for needing your mid-sleep assistance yet again, Elsren,” llhaesa still felt sheepish over needing medical help just for a dream-induced Jahrae kick.

“Nonsense; I would be rather upset if I found out tomorrow morning, because you would find your leg quite sore by then. Moreover, I prefer to keep the chance of clotting at a minimum.”

The ACR softly beeped in indication of completed healing. Elsren removed the unit and examined the leg, pronouncing it fine. “Try standing on it now, ‘essa.”

Llhaesa spryly left the bed, walking about the room without impairment. “It feels great, Elsren; thank you!”

“Great! I am off to bed. Try to go easy on each other the remainder of the night, please,” Elsren teasingly remarked as she let herself out.

With Elsren gone and her leg healed, llhaesa turned to Jahrae, her eyes messaging imminent mayhem. She took a deliberate step toward Jahrae, who immediately realised the intent of her wife and scooted away, out the bedroom door, on into the kitchen, placing the table between she and llhaesa.

Llhaesa stood on the opposite side, calculating angles of escape, deciding on how to position such that Jahrae could not get past her as she closed in. “You know I will catch you, J’har. I recommend surrender,” llhaesa played up her advantage.

Not willing to succumb, Jahrae feigned a move one way, instead taking off in the other direction with a single burst of speed, catching llhaesa by surprise, safely reaching the living room beyond even as llhaesa turned in pursuit.

“You cannot escape so easily, Jahrae. Come to llhaesa.”

“No way,” Jahrae found it hard to respond given her bouts of laughter. She loved it when llhaesa chased after her, and her eyes were suggestively and playfully open, making no effort to hide her inner glee that danced in them.

Llhaesa feigned twice, pretending to take off after Jahrae, but Jahrae did not fall for the moves. Jahrae knew she could make it past llhaesa, but this was a false hope as the only option was to the bedrooms, either of which would prove a trap she would not escape.

Deciding she had nothing to lose, she took the bedroom option, zooming past llhaesa, heading for their bedroom, accepting her inevitable fate, but with a bit more playful pursuit first.

Unfortunately, as Jahrae turned into the bedroom, she tripped in spectacular fashion; spinning by half, she knocked over an acoustic guitar llhaesa had left inside the room, right next to the door.

The guitar slid to the floor, strings up, six strings singing their protest at the unexpected disturbance. Jahrae, her body leaving the spin and dropping uncontrollably, landed upon the guitar arse first and square over the guitar’s sound hole.

The failing guitar sang its final displeasure, its structural integrity fracturing under the force and weight of Jahrae crashing down upon it.

Llhaesa, just reaching Jahrae, tried to catch Jahrae too late, watching just beyond her reach as Jahrae crushed the guitar; Aghast at the accident, yet amused by the surreal guitar sound, her thoughts reformed into worry as Jahrae called out in pain.

Llhaesa reached down to help, but as Jahrae tried to move, the guitar moved with her. “Owww. Ruh roh.

Damn that hurts. Shit, ‘essa, I have a huge splinter stuck in my buttocks, and I cannot move.”

“I’m calling Elsrensia!”

“Like hell you are, ‘essa. She will laugh for a week when she sees my arse impaled by a flipping guitar.

Not to mention she just, not ten minutes ago, told us to behave for the remainder of the night.”

Llhaesa played the card of practicality. “J’har, it is either I extract that wayward piece of wood from your arse, unknowing exactly what is in there, or of its depth, or you can let a professional extract it, and be certain you are healthy.

I am calling.”

“I am so going to get you for this.”

As llhaesa called, another voice, this one groggy, stood in the doorway of the second bedroom. Jahrae realised too late that Addie spent the night in their suite; she had forgotten. “Mum, what is going on?” Addie asked, wiping sleep out of her eyes.

“Why are you sitting upon the floor, in fact, why aren’t you sleeping?”

“It is a long story, Addie, one too painful to tell in the moment,” Jahrae replied, wincing as she did so. “Damn but this hurts.”

“Here, let me help you!”

“No! I mean no, do not try to move me Addison, I do not wish for my sorry arse to play yet more unintended music. Your mum ‘essa is calling mum Elsren.”

“Your arse; play music? I do not under-“ Addie started to snicker, finally spotting the guitar neck and crushed pieces around her mother. “You squished the guitar and it stabbed you in the butt?”

Llhaesa hung up, trying hard not to giggle, given she knew J’har’s partial impaling seriously hurt. “Elsren is on her way, and I fear, so too is Ronnie.”

“Oh, great; that is just fucking great. Thanks a bunch, ‘essa. Good thing I flattened this guitar, because it would be destined for you to wear around your neck!”

“Well, look at it another way, J’har. We find more than one way to be legendary, well done!”

Addison laughed at llhaesa’s comment; it just struck her the right way.

“What are you laughing at, my dear daughter? You find amusement in seeing me skewered by this infernal guitar?” Jahrae tried to play it grouchily serious, though she too thought it funny. Yet she could not laugh; it hurt too much.

Elsren walked in again, this time with Ronnie, Addie stepping out of their way. “I am not at all certain I wish to hear how this happened,” Elsrensia began, crouching down next to Jahrae.

“Please speak for you only,” Ronnie admonished. “I wish to hear every dirty and sordid detail of what led up to this um…twanging.

Did llhaesa try to spank you with a guitar? It all sounds rather kinky to me!”

Llhaesa started laughing, triggering a chain reaction with the others, including Jahrae, who promptly switched from laughter to an exclamation of pain. “Owwwww! Cut out making me laugh; when I do, it hurts!”

“J’har, we have to move you so I can see the extent of the injury,” Elsrensia advised. “First, I am going to administer an anaesthetic so you will not feel pain as we shift you. Second, I will recruit llhaesa to move the guitar and keep it positioned exactly as it is relative to you right now.”

Elsren reached in her bag and removed the necessary item, adjusting the medication and dosage before finally administering it to Jahrae.

“All right, that should work within seconds. ‘Essa, can you come around, careful not to do more harm, and scrunch down along J’har.

Good. Now please be gentle, and do not laugh. We can laugh later, but right now, Jahrae is in pain, and we need to make her well.

Are you ready?”

“Yes, anytime you are.”

Elsren started to turn Jahrae, with llhaesa slowly turning the guitar with her until Jahrae was on her side. The guitar once again mildly protested the movement, though the crushed frame did little to amplify the sound, unlike earlier.

“Excellent! Now please hold the guitar right there while I check the wound and then scan the injury.” Elsrensia cut away Jahrae’s nightshirt, through which the offending piece of wood struck at her posterior pride.

“I like that shirt,” Jahrae lamented.

“Llhaesa, the anaesthetic will make her a bit silly, although she found you quite silly with your medical commentary, so I doubt you are concerned.”

“Ooh, you mean this could be fun after the fact?”

“You might find additional amusement in her comments, yes.”

“I have a really nice arse,” Jahrae declared to those gathered.

Addison dropped away from the doorway, trying hard to suppress the audible element of her laughter.

“That you do, J’har. It is a pity that a piece of wood found interest in it as well, and at a rather inopportune time,” llhaesa deadpanned.

“This is priceless,” Ronnie offered. “You two never cease to amaze me, with your ability, with your antics. I so love being in this family!”

“Yes, well, you have us at a disadvantage, Ronnie. If you get a guitar stuck to your arse, you need only ask your partner to remove it. We have no such good fortune,” llhaesa shot back.

“Llhaesa has an even better arse than me,” Jahrae continued her apparent new interest, expounding on derrieres. “I cannot resist hers.”

“That we know, J’har,” Elsrensia confirmed, more to keep her attention focused and away from laughter than for any other reason.

“At least Jahrae did not comment on anyone else,” Ronnie made the mistake of saying aloud.

“What was that you said, Ronnie?” Jahrae asked. “You said something about you and Elsrensia? You two are cute as well, and you both have nice arses, please do not feel left out,” she added, ever the diplomat, even in her amusingly medicated way.

“We are an attractive family; did you ever notice this before?” Jahrae asked, her eyes now fixated on llhaesa.

“I haven’t given it much thought, to be honest, J’har,” llhaesa replied.

Jahrae seemed satisfied with this answer, allowing llhaesa to breathe easier for about two seconds. “I am horny, and llhaesa was chasing me around the suite after you left.

That is when the guitar jumped up and bit me.”

“You are horny, Jahrae?” Ronnie asked, trying to prime the commentary well.

“Yes, aren’t you, Ronnie? You have a good woman here in Elsrensia; you should be horny.

Did you get any earlier?”

“Llhaesa, do not shake the guitar!” Elsrensia admonished the unsteady from laughter llhaesa.

“I am sorry, but I so wish this was recorded as my goofiness was,” llhaesa lamented. “This medication stuff would be great at a party, Elsren.”

“Yes, it might well be, except it is a highly regulated and powerful narcotic.

All right, here is the diagnosis. Jahrae has three splinters stuck in her left buttock, two of which inserted roughly 3 centimetres, but the third is in almost 6 centimetres; that one pierced muscle, and has almost a jagged hook to it, based on scan results. I cannot simply extract, it would cause a deeper wound to the surrounding tissue.

‘Essa, I am going to snip off the pieces from the guitar. This will leave her looking like the victim of a scorulha – porcupine – attack, but at least then we can get her to the medical area where I can surgically remove the intruding splinters.”

“You have to operate on her arse?” llhaesa asked, surprised.

“Yes, I do. That ends the chances of my catching any sleep tonight. Ronnie, I suggest you go back to bed, as you should, Addison.

Llhaesa, since you are half of this mid-night frolic and antics team, you get to stay awake with me.”

Elsrensia called for a gurney, with someone arriving with it within two minutes. Llhaesa threw on a robe and escorted Elsrensia and the flat on her stomach Jahrae to the medical unit, while Addie went back to bed and Ronnie returned to her suite.

The delicate medical work took just under an hour, with llhaesa waiting outside the surgical area. Elsrensia came out and sat down alongside llhaesa, looking bleary eyed. “Well, it was successful. Jahrae will sleep through the night, and then some, ‘essa.

While I am tired, I am also hungry and thirsty, too wired to sleep. Are you up for a bit of a snack and a beer?”

“It is the least I can do, and I could use a beer in any case. Are you planning to change?”

“No. Here, let me get you some scrubs, you can wear them instead of your robe. You can leave that here and retrieve it tomorrow.”

Llhaesa changed into pastel yellow scrubs, feeling the colour might brighten her mood at a rather unexpectedly dreary moment.

Making their way to the lounge, they chose to sit at the bar rather than a table, llhaesa ordering a round for both, while Elsrensia scoured the board behind the bar, deciding what she wished to order for middle of the night comfort food.

The beers landed before them in seconds, leading each to a prompt initial tasting. “Good idea, Elsren. I have to admit that my thirst surprises me.”

“Suppose you tell me how this happened, ‘essa.”

Llhaesa gave details of what happened after Elsren left. “It was just a quirky accident. In my mind, I can vividly see the guitar falling, twanging as it bounced on the floor, even as Jahrae fell toward it, creating yet more chaotic string noise, followed by the crushing wood of the guitar.

We were silly, tired, and a bit wired, even then. Jahrae wore a look of playful prey; she so loves me giving chase to her and of course usually it ends in a rather intimate involvement, rather than with a guitar attached to her butt.

I will say the incident will not stop us from such antics; it is too much a part of our interaction, our respective personages. We play hard, we work hard, and we deeply care for one another.

I am sorry that it devolved to a point where it affected you, Elsren. For that I am deeply sorry, and promise we will take better care in our playfulness.”

“Well, if nothing else, you amused Ronnie, although I fear Jahrae will be a tad sensitive about her derriere for a while, and she might give guitars a wide birth.

By the way, I hope that was not a good guitar lost in your hot pursuit of your partner.”

Llhaesa once again looked sheepish, wincing at the thought. “It is a new guitar, I was breaking it in, um, no pun intended. I bought it on Arrhazon, and…it is actually a top of the line, handmade guitar. I know the craftsperson, and she will not be happy to hear one of her precious creations was lost in such a foolish way.”

“With that said, it is rather funny, ‘essa. What the hell, I am up now, the sleep is gone, the surgery done, I can laugh about this. I have seen my fair share of amusing medical predicaments, and this is just one more; actually, it is quite tame in comparison to some others I have witnessed.

And the comments she made whilst medicated, ay yee yee. What is it with you two? You started in about being horny when medicated for your appendix, and now J’har starts rambling about arses. Wait, didn’t she mention something about being horny? I think she did.”

“What can I say, Elsren, we are in love after all. I am as enamoured with Jahrae as I was 19 years ago. We interact as if we are still in our early twenties, though of course we separate that conduct from our responsibilities. We try to keep fun in our lives, and encourage fun in our family, along with healthy discussion of serious topics.

When something like this happens, when we need medication that predisposes us to silliness, it is bound to manifest in this way, especially given our play just prior to the incident, where it was headed had no injury occurred.”

“True enough, ‘essa. I was a bit grumpy from the waking, but now…I agree with you on balance.

Shall we have another?”

Posted in Addison, Arrhazon, Dr Elsrensia K’avahra, Jahrae, Ronnie, llhaesa | Tagged blog novels, books, creative writing, eBooks, feminism, feminist fiction, fiction, lesbian, lesbian books, lesbian fiction, lesbian literature, lesbian-novels, literature, online books, online novels, writing | Leave a Comment »

LXXXIX – uncommon on the common

11 June, 2009 by llhaesa

The early morning turned on a surprise, with llhaesa revealing she once again wished to trek downward, this time to spend a day in an Arrkarharan park.

“’Essa,” Jahrae asked, caught off guard by llhaesa’s expressed wish. “We barely got back here twelve hours ago, and now you wish to scoot back down and spend the day?”

Wife and wife stood in the small kitchen of their suite, Jahrae leaning against the cabinets just in front of a sink, while llhaesa stood on the cusp of the entrance to the living room, looking back toward Jahrae, discussing whether they should go.

“The heat broke in the New England area and Boston is predicted to be around 24°C today, with a variable wind from the west; that is perfect weather for spending time in a park playing music.”

“You are such a goof. I should have known you would have the itch to do a concert. Do you mind if I join you?”

“You are going to play as well?”

“No, but I can watch you play and offer encouragement.”

“Watch me and Addie, if she agrees; I would like to have her perform with me.”

Jahrae looked at llhaesa, her mind pondering an idea she had not thought of as possibility. “Do you think Addie will wish to play?”

“We have played some together informally, and it works out great. It is up to her, but I intend to ask.”

“You may have to wait a while, she is happily sleeping.”

“I will go check to verify this, J’har,” llhaesa replied, mischief in her eyes.

Llhaesa left the kitchen and headed into the smaller bedroom, where Addison and Sérada blissfully slept.

Bending over and placing her face near Addison’s ear, llhaesa whispered slowly, “Jahlaera…Jahlaera…” Llhaesa watched as Addie’s face turned to a sleep-formed smile, prompting an unexpected burst of laughter from Jahrae, who followed llhaesa to the room and stood in the doorway, seeing what shenanigans llhaesa employed to roust Addie out of bed.

“Jahlaera…” llhaesa whispered yet again. Addison caught llhaesa by surprise, her left arm rising up to pull llhaesa downward into an embrace, causing llhaesa to flop onto the bed.

The mild jolt shook Addie awake, her eyes flicking open, her mind immediately confused on why llhaesa was on the bed and in her embrace.

“Um, this is your mum you ensnared, my apparently dreamily amorous daughter,” llhaesa teased.

“Wait…I was dreaming I called to Jahlaera,” Addie tried to sort through the last vestiges of dream prior to waking. Seeing llhaesa’s impish smirk, Addie found her answer. “You were calling her name to me. I will get you for that, mother!

Why are you waking me so early?”

“Early? It is eight o’clock, and I wish to spend at least some of the day in Boston, playing. I was wondering if you might wish to play with me.”

“Play and sing…in front of people?”

“Are you not about to begin an education and career in performing arts? Stage fright is something you had best lose quickly, or find an alternative life path, my dear.”

“Can Jahlaera come along?”

“Well, if she wishes to watch for hours, along with mum J’har. I have no objection to her joining us.”

“Can I come too?” Serry asked after listening to the plan and deciding to reveal she too was awake.

“You may, Serry. In fact, I was counting on you being there.”

“Mum, what instrument will you play, given I usually play keyboards,” Addie asked, trying to get an idea of how things would work.

“Since it is you and I only, I’ll bring an acoustic and an electric guitar, a violin, and two keyboards, my dear daughter. We can play keyboards together occasionally, as we have done around the house.

By the way, I already have the equipment we need on board Chekresu. Since Arrhazonan equipment is not as bulky and heavy, it was easy to do.

Now if you plan to join me, I suggest you get ready and track down Jahla if you wish to ask her to come along.”

Llhaesa rose from the edge of Addie’s bed, while Addie promptly shoved back the covers and scampered off for the shower, grabbing her robe off a hook as she walked out of the room.

Serry followed Addie out of bed, moving at a deliberate pace, although the kitchen was her destination, where Jahrae had a bowl of her favourite cereal along with half a grapefruit waiting on the table.

An hour after llhaesa shooed Addison out of bed, the family group boarded Chekresu, with llhaesa, Jahrae, Addie, Serry, Hrilleae, Djellrin, Saehressa, and Casey choosing to go, along with Jahlaera.

Before llhaesa had a chance to request air evacuation of the hangar, Ronnie and Elsrensia, who earlier thought they had commitments onboard ship, called Chekresu to say they were joining the excursion, showing a few minutes later with Anita, who pushed Ahrella along in a stroller.

The journey downward with llhaesa piloting, who as usual preferred power descents, took all of fifteen minutes. Boston gave the group advance permission to set Chekresu down and play on Boston Common, welcoming the musician to the city, appreciative of her choice to play without charge.

Llhaesa set down at the edge of the trees just to the west of Frog Pond. People followed various paths that conjoined in the centre of the open area; some of those present walked the Common on a leisurely stroll, while others traversed with business purpose in mind, yet no matter their reason for being there, most stopped to gaze at the bus-sized but sleek craft that appeared from the sky.

Emerging, the family waved to those observing, the action mimicked by Ahrella, who decided waving was fun and did so to everyone.

“Addie, can you help me unload the equipment?” llhaesa asked, anxious to get going. “Power will be from Chekresu, so we’ll set up with the craft to our backs.”

“Sure mum, lead the way!”

Set up took a half hour, with the musicians playing at ground level, upon the grass surface. Small but powerful amplifiers stood to either side, while llhaesa placed another set atop Chekresu.

“I guess everything is ready, Addie; the question now is, are we?”

“I am ready whenever you are, but go easy on me!”

“Would you like to start, Addison?”

“M-me, start us off?”

“Yes, you are capable. Pick a song, let me know, and I’ll back you on vocals.”

Addie looked at llhaesa, not quite believing she agreed to this. Before ever playing a note, a large and growing crowd gathered, with word spreading of the identity of the musicians about to play in the park.

The remainder of the family was in a cluster along the front of those watching, and Jahrae caught an occasional comment on how much Addie looked like llhaesa. Difficult before, once one knew which was which it was easy to tell, as llhaesa had shoulder length, random and loose curls hair from using just a hair pick, while Addie had her hair styled in dreadlocks a few days before.

Along with her new do, Addie tied in a handmade Arrhazonan kvrehdhian braid, a thin but colourful accessory that hung to a similar length as her hair. Interweaving the united Arrhazonan colours of orange, yellow, green, and black, in addition to the braided cloth, it included numerous tiny gemstones, again of the Arrhazonan colours. The intricately cut gemstones reflected light off in random directions.

The braid accessory was a gift from llhaesa, who, knowing what she wished to buy ventured to a specific shop, spending over an hour finding just the right one for Addie, bringing it back from Arrhazon. Addie loved it, loved the braid in her hair, and had no inclination to remove it at this point.

Addie dressed casually, wearing olive green shorts, along with a sleeveless top with gradient colouring, changing from the topmost yellow to bottommost orange.

Taking one final glance at llhaesa, Addie signalled and started in, the keyboard set to recreate the classic 1960s Hammond B3 organ sound. The initial notes were long and slowly changing, an intro into one of her favourite songs written by her mum, sort of an anthem, with her own twist added.

Llhaesa played electric on this song. Taking Addie’s rhythmic notes as a base from which to work, she set out into musical exploration, at times weaving around the base melody, joining with it, and then breaking away on tangents, tangents that paired well with Addie’s commitment to set and keep the basic beat.

Five minutes in, Addie tackled vocals, with no hint of the tentativeness she felt earlier. Llhaesa smiled, knowing her daughter’s voice improved dramatically with practice. Addie had the same tonal quality of llhaesa, but lacked the years of practise, experience, honing, and experimentation of her mother that gave llhaesa her peerless range and technique. Addie’s voice was unrefined but powerful and talented, and that worked well with what they would play today.

Skilfully working within the parameters of their grassy stage area, by the time the song moved toward its finish, llhaesa played near Addie. Addie stood through the final notes, reprising the earlier intro in reverse. Llhaesa leaned up against her daughter just enough to touch, their heads affectionately leaning on one another as the song closed out.

The attentive audience, which now filled this section of the Common, applauded enthusiastically. In response, both llhaesa and Addie held hands, bowing.

“Thank you…thank you!” Addie acknowledged the applause as it began to fade. “Mum…llhaesa…decided she wished to come down to the Common today and play.

When I say ‘come down’, I mean that quite literally. We have been on board a newly arrived Arrhazonan ship, it is here for dual purpose, to drop off the newest delegation from there, and to take some of us to Arrhazon, where I will attend school, work on study in my chosen profession, as well as learn some about that part of my heritage.

The ship…is magnificent. It carries a name that makes me a bit teary eyed when I think on it, AISV llhaesa ahrella t’yaeli. It is a great tribute to my mother, a great honour, and one well deserved.

Her dedication to freedom and to equality helped change one world, and now she works to change another. Well folks, it takes more than one person to change a world, and of course, two of my other parents played a huge role in events on Arrhazon, Jahrae and Elsrensia.

The history is nice, it is important, but…we have work to do here, changes we need to make, and it takes more than just them, it takes all of us.

Two years ago, things like peace and green living and equality where distant concepts in my head. I was fourteen, and my life was about to be ripped into metaphorical shreds of confetti by the machinations of the universe.

You know the story.

Now, two years later, after two years of additional life experience and study of not one world but two, of seeing the history of one world and the making of history on this one, I have better perspective, and I have a better idea of how to proceed. I have a good idea of what is possible, what is in each of us to do, if only we work together and try.

My mum usually rants during concerts at some point, she identifies with the audience and she plays around and jokes, sharing thoughts on weighty topics as I do right now.

I sort of pre-empted her,” Addison turned toward llhaesa briefly as she continued, “Sorry mum,” she voiced apologetically, but llhaesa smiled, nodded, and waved for her to continue.

“I just felt it in me now, after one song. I guess that is my youthful impatience at work.

It is more than that, actually. I wish others to hear my voice and outlook, I wish to stand up and work with my parents and with all of you who wish to achieve change. I challenge my generation to stand up and embrace the concepts peace, of gender equality, of gay rights, of freedom, of working to bring education to every child, to feed everyone, to make sure there is enough water for every person on this world, and to make sure everyone has health care to rely upon when in need.

Why should these things be so difficult to achieve? We are the ones who frame our society. We are the ones who build each element.

We are also the ones who build the impediments, who claim impossibility, who turn our heads and give up.

No.” Addie spoke eloquently and masterfully, her voice powerful at times, reflective in others, always with an underlying base tone of respect for those who listened.

Watching, llhaesa felt a surge of parental pride. Over the past year, she saw first hand how her daughter grew in every direction, and now the world saw what she knew. Shaking off the quick wandering of her mind, llhaesa refocused on Addison as she continued.

“I will not do this, I do not wish to be a hindrance nor do harm and I urge all of you to think it through; think through your power, the power within and of one, teamed with the power of my one, and the next, and the next, and the next.

I owe much to each of my parents; I am a walking assemblage of diversity. Yet it goes beyond biology, and reaches into what is within me, through all of my thoughts, to my very soul.

We can accomplish great things…if we try.

If anyone doubts that, if anyone says ‘this thing or that thing cannot be done’ remind them of my parents, remind them of their accomplishments, and tell them that what truly cannot be done is let stand things as they are today. We must change, and we will, because we all will work together.

Will you work with me?”

Addison modestly turned her attention away from the wildly cheering and now overflowing crowd, realising now that it somehow exponentially grew during the first song and her chat. She looked toward llhaesa, and llhaesa knew Addie wished for her to lead her into a song.

Llhaesa already held the violin, expecting to assist Addie as she came out of her impromptu speech. Llhaesa mouthed the song to play, and she was off, playing an up-tempo piece that had classical overtones yet written for a rock framework.

Instead of simply keeping rhythm, Addie improvised along with llhaesa, each taking turns giving continuity to the song, each taking turns to explore, and at times, each improvised together, yet worked segments of rhythm into their improvisation.

The mother and daughter combination played until noon. Earlier, in a reprise of what she did on Arrhazon, llhaesa asked Jahrae to contact twelve local restaurants, asking them to cater for up to a thousand people, but at least for 500, billing it to her.

As they went into their break, llhaesa advised the crowd that a dozen kiosks on the periphery of the Common were now serving lunch, her treat.

The appreciative audience crowded each of the kiosks, and members of the family patiently waited their turn in whatever line interested them.

“Nice call, ‘essa,” Saehressa remarked, standing behind her daughter in one food line. “People are appreciative, and they loved seeing you and Addie together. I heard many comments, and they were all enthusiastic in their support, in their praise. Some even commented to me on how much you and Addie look like me.

Addie…wow, she plays superbly; it is quite eerie seeing the two of you together from a bit of distance. If I did not know how to differentiate the two of you, it would be with great difficulty I figured it out.”

“You mean like differentiating me from you?” llhaesa teased. “Did you enjoy her chat with the audience?” llhaesa wondered.

Saehressa smiled. She surely is your daughter; in so many ways, it is impossible to cite them all. She was brilliant.”

Several hours later, all were back aboard ship, the family gathering in the chosen centre of their familial universe while on ship, Jahrae and llhaesa’s suite.

Those with partners were obvious. For some reason, the parings were close on this night, llhaesa nestled with Jahrae on the sofa, Ronnie on the floor leaning up against the seated Elsrensia’s legs as she sat on a wing-backed chair, Hrilleae sitting snugly with Djellrin on the other side of the sofa, with Hrilleae placing a hand on his.

Joining the partners club were new members Addie and Jahlaera, with Addison leaning up against the outer wall, just below the wide expanse of clearsteel window displaying a picturesque Arrkarhara in the distance.

Addie had her long legs stretched along either side of Jahla, who leaned up against her, with Addie’s arms casually encircling her friend. No one blinked an eye, all in the room were aware of the sudden deep connection that sprouted between them.

Ship’s communication rang off, a brief message from Commander H’ahlser that Addison was now a media darling on Arrkarhara, advising the family to tune in and check out various network news services.

Jahrae grabbed the remote, flipping on the viewscreen on the wall opposite the kitchen, and began surfing Arrkarharan channels.

Reaching the first major news site, a feature story ran showing the mother and daughter combo playing on the Common, the brief segment of music ultimately segueing into Addison’s chat.

They ran the chat segment uncut, followed by in studio analysis thereafter. “Bill, that was Addison’s coming out event,” Cathy Fonda declared.

“Scuttlebutt is Addison is mesmerising playing herself in the upcoming Family Skies movie on the history of her family. There are already blog commentaries speculating she is the front-runner for best supporting actress next year. Yet the movie is two months from release.”

“I would imagine the producers of the movie are doing cartwheels right now, given the footage that is repeating on news networks and stations across the country, Cathy. They are the beneficiaries of free publicity that sells itself on her ability, wow.

I have heard llhaesa speak more than once, and for a not quite seventeen year old to do an off the cuff conversation as she did, it was as if I watched llhaesa. I feel that way each time the segment runs, and I have watched it…eight times now.

Addison has that je ne sais quoi her mum has, combining peerless ability and intelligence, with presence of mind, empathy, and ability to inspire, all with just flat out melt your socks off gorgeousness.

You will be seeing a lot of Addison in the future.”

“How do you really feel, Bill? Cathy remarked to long time co-anchor Bill Stern, the two in their tenth year of their news broadcast. “Actually, if possible, I believe you understate what might happen going forward.

All right, since I made that statement, I will go on record and predict that Addison will one day go down as the leader of this generation…on two worlds.”

“Are you suggesting she has a political future in addition to performing arts?”

“I think that is possible, yes.”

“But…of two worlds, Cathy?”

Cathy looked at Bill curiously, wondering why he seemed not to get her meaning. “Yes, I do mean of two worlds.”

“How would that work?”

“Well, what is it her parents work towards, Bill? They are working to unite this world so that we can join other worlds out there, building a future together. Her parents will be involved on that level… and I am saying so will she, one day.”

Jahrae changed the channel, briefly watching three others, and each time there were praising comments about the event in Boston and about mother and daughter; it was lead story news across video media. While the wording changed, the conclusions were all close to the first.

Clicking the viewscreen off, attention redirected to Addison, who sat quietly, content to hold Jahlaera close.

“Oh oh, Addie,” Jahla teased as she turned as best she could to look back at Addie, “I do believe you are now the centre of attention not just on Arrkarhara, but in this room.”

“Addie, I know you really do not wish the rest of us to sit here embarrassing you, and yes, there is no need to do this,” llhaesa decided she needed to take control before things went too far.

“We know you; we know all these little things about you media might never know. I know how to make you laugh even when you try hard not to; I know what upsets you, what makes you cry, what infuriates, and how much you like to sleep, like mum J’har,” llhaesa quipped, winking at Addie.

“Hey! Just you wait, ‘essa,” Jahrae objected, “just you wait.”

“Um, J’har, before I was so rudely interrupted, I was telling our daughter that we have no need to do as they do on television. She knows how we all feel; she knows the love that emanates from each of us in this room.”

Seeing a playful smirk on Jahlaera’s face, llhaesa pounced on it playfully. “Um, be careful with where you take that love, Jahla, you have four capable and protective mothers paying attention,” her words making Jahla turn a reddish hue.

“Mother!” Addie good-naturedly retorted to the comment. “If and when the love goes where you hint it should not, I will make a point of sending lots of intangible signals for you to pick up on.”

“You wouldn’t dare on both counts, young lady!” llhaesa retorted, continuing the playful jousting with her daughter. “And besides, you are forgetting something.”

“What is it I forget?”

Llhaesa turned to Jahrae, who instantly knew what she meant. “She means, my dear Addison, I command this ship, and since Jahlaera is an employee on this ship, if need be, I can speak with her boss and have her work for the next thousand hours in a row.”

Jahla’s face went pale at the suggestion, prompting everyone in the room to burst into laughter.

“Jahla, Jahrae would only use such tactics with me,” llhaesa quipped. “With you…psssst…she’s a pushover.

We like to tease and have fun, and I will save the motherly caution for another time.

We are proud of our daughter, and we love having you with her as well.”

“I am glad you mentioned that ma’am, because Addie and I wished to talk with you.”

Llhaesa’s face reformed into surprise. “With me?”

“Yes, you were in bed last night, while Addie and I were out here watching a film. She picked up some interesting um…vibes from you, isn’t that right, Addie?”

Llhaesa and Jahrae looked at each other, first with alarm, and then with humour, falling into laughter.

After a minute, Jahrae stood and turned toward llhaesa, her hands formed into fists, which she rested against either side of her hips, elbows out. “’Essa, you told me she could not pick up on such things!” Jahrae exclaimed, winking at llhaesa as she said this.

“I saw that wink, Jahrae,” Saehressa called out. “Jahla, Addison, listen to your grandmother. You two are fine; please act responsibly and be cautious, please. Oh…and learn to mask that connection at times; I do not wish to listen to my daughter rant again!”

Posted in Addison, Ahrella T'srha, Arrhazon, Arrkarhara, Boston, Casey, Djellrin, Dr Elsrensia K’avahra, Hrilleae, Jahrae, Ronnie, Saehressa, Serada, llhaesa | Tagged blog fiction, blog novels, books, creative writing, eBooks, feminism, feminist fiction, fiction, fiction writing, lesbian, lesbian books, lesbian fiction, lesbian literature, lesbian stories, lesbian-novels, lgbt fiction, literature, novels, online authors, online books, online novels, original fiction, science fiction, stories, story telling, writing, writing-inspiration | Leave a Comment »

LXXXVIII – recruiting parents

9 June, 2009 by llhaesa

Aghast at the news of the lake incident, Ronnie and Elsrensia waited rather nervously overnight, restless in their sleep, on through most of the following day. The family would not return to the ship until evening.

Two hours after their arrival, four parents informally gathered over tea in the suite assigned to llhaesa and Jahrae, the two oldest children off watching a live play production in the ship’s auditorium, while the third and youngest child slept in an adjacent bedroom, down for the night.

“That is so absolutely horrifying,” Ronnie remarked, shivering at the thought of what happened on the lake. “If not for Jahlaera, I…” she stopped there, losing her ability to continue to emotion.

“We are in agreement on that point,” llhaesa reassured. “In all of our experience on Chekresu Bay, a far larger body of water, never have I seen such irresponsible operation of a watercraft.

I am going to install a system that prevents this sort of thing, an early warning device on craft that approach our boat, evaluating course, speed, erratic operation and the like,” llhaesa declared. “The system will evaluate it all and issue an alarm if the data indicates a possible threat.

“I know of no such system,” Jahrae, quite well versed in boating, advised.

“Nor do I, but I intend to build one, J’har,” llhaesa declared, picking up her tea.

Not one person in the room felt surprise at llhaesa’s casual proclamation, nor did anyone doubt she would do exactly as she said.

“Addie seems fine now, it seems it is the four of us who remain unnerved over what happened,” Elsrensia observed.

“Yes, I agree,” Jahrae nodded as she spoke. “Our daughter is rather enamoured and enthralled with Jahlaera, and vice versa, so their thoughts shifted to other emotions and interests quite quickly.”

“Don’t you think this is a matter of first love interest that will dissipate with time?” Ronnie asked, unsure what to make of things. The last she knew, Addie was interested in Chris.

“It is impossible to predict the course of life, we all understand that,” Jahrae began. “And I do not wish to speak for my wife, since she is right here and can provide her insight.

Yet I also have watched how she and Addie connect, heck we all have. Llhaesa has the perspective of forty plus years of life to draw upon in evaluating what she picks up from Addie, along with what she sees, hears, and so on, as the rest of us do.

In this case, what llhaesa tells me matches what I observe as well. In one day, those two drew together like llhaesa and I did, nineteen years ago now.”

“But they are both so young, especially Addie! She has been on all of five dates in her life. How could she possibly be connecting with someone as you seem to suggest…a soulmate?” Ronnie lamented, not quite ready to believe. “She is not even 17 years old!”

Llhaesa tried hard not to make light of how Ronnie felt, even as something inside tried to force a smirk upon her face. Squelching the urge for the moment, llhaesa tried for a detailed explanation and perspective. “Ronnie, they are young, and goddess knows I would rather people move well beyond twenty one before considering any commitment or even feeling of attachment.

Now J’har and I were quite young – she at 19, me just past 22. It probably wasn’t the most intelligent choice,” llhaesa paused as she saw a slight hint of a frown appear on Jahrae’s face, “in terms of age and perspective. Yet we both knew, we just knew this was it for each of us, and…we were right. It just worked out that we met earlier rather than later.

If they asked me, the advice I would give is exactly what the rest of you would say, that they are young, that they need to gain life experience, meet others, and that the option of connecting remains throughout life, when they feel ready.

I would never agree to any formal connection, no way, given their ages, and that is not what I wish you to think I mean. Yet I believe they feel a deep connection themselves. Should they stop a connection from developing of its own natural inclinations? I think that a mistake and think it would be a mistake for us to try to make that happen.

There is another element of this we should think on, and that is Addie’s education. Obviously, she is a first class student, one who will be highly sought after on her way into college, in fact it is likely she will be the most sought after student. Keep that in your mind, mull it over, sort out how you feel.”

Ronnie exaggeratedly blew out a breath, a means of expressing inner frustration. “I suppose you have a distinct advantage, ‘essa. You have some idea how Addie feels. You and J’har met Jahlaera, you have seen her with Addie, seen her act decisively in an emergency. On top of that, we understand your judgement is credible, sound, and respected by not only each of us, but two worlds now.

It just is so hard to accept that Addie has such a deeply rooted connection, established in one day. My mind cannot wrap around this, I am sorry.”

“It is hard to accept,” Elsrensia joined in. “I think we all have the ambivalence and some level of disbelief, but I trust llhaesa. As hard as it is to accept, it is best we run with accepting what llhaesa tells us, because if we choose not to, we could do some damage by following that path as well. At least with this, we have some guidance giving us indication of what occurs. We are very fortunate in that regard.

‘Essa, you mentioned Addie’s education. I would like to hear more on this,” Elsrensia encouraged.

“I am sorry, but I cannot say any more as yet, I am still unclear on that element, and in fact, it is for Addie to share with us.”

Elsrensia’s question and llhaesa’s answer brought focus to her earlier comment, but llhaesa refused to budge, other than to say, “I suspect we will hear from Addison soon.”

The entry door to the suite swished open as llhaesa finished her comment, with Addison stepping through, a spring in her step and a quiet smile on her face. “Hello parental units,” she teased a hello as she walked through the room.

“Parental units, hmmmm,” Elsrensia mulled the phrase. “I have not heard such a reference to parents before; quite interesting. “Hello, daughter unit; may I ask where you sister is?”

“It is a common phrase on Arrkarhara, Elsren,” Jahrae explained. “At least I have heard it in media and amongst those Addison’s age. I do like daughter-unit, especially since she is the focus of our discussion.”

The comment drew Addison’s interest, prompting her to re-enter the room and settle into an overstuffed, light coloured flower print chair. “Serry is with a friend in the suite two doors down from us, and will be back in an hour.

You were discussing me; do you mean the accident?” Addie asked, curious.

“Yes, Addie,” llhaesa answered forthrightly. We were discussing that topic, along with your new friendship with Jahlaera.”

“You fear that we are madly in love, correct?”

“Not exactly ‘madly in love’; perhaps deeply enamoured, yes.”

“How do you feel about this, mum ‘essa?”

“I sense a strong connection, one unusually deep for two people who just met and of so young an age.

Yet I have explained that this is also your truth, and we must respect that truth. You are rather mature for your age, Addie. We all trust you, and we know you will discuss important elements in your life with us.

No one expects you to act impulsively, nor do we object to your connection. What we seek…is understanding. I have a better handle than your other three mothers do; the universe along with nature has seen to that. I try to clarify for them, without crashing your privacy, Addie.”

“And what is it you feel, mum ‘essa?”

“I am uncertain of what you mean. How do I feel about all of this, or what do I sense from you?”

“How do you evaluate what you sense from me?”

“You are confident, you are strong, and you are enthralled. There is more, but…I will leave it at that.”

“By ‘more’, you mean my education?”

Llhaesa smiled knowingly, looking at the other parents, and then back to Addison. “Yes.”

“Should I?” Addison looked at llhaesa, her eyes pleading for guidance and support.

“I cannot decide for you what you should think, or when you should vocalise your thoughts.”

“You are aware of my wishes on this matter.”

“Again, I suspect, yes.”

“Will you help me?”

“Addie, perhaps it is time you bring all of your parents up to speed on what you feel, what you think, and what you plan. I am but one of your parents, and they have a right to be involved in this, to hear what you think and wish to do.”

Addie leaned back in her chair, mulling over llhaesa’s words. Her hands came up, left hand fingers folded over and wrapped around by those of the right, resting against her chin; classic Addie stance when evaluating an issue or topic.

Deciding what she wished to say, Addison’s fingers unfolded and briefly touched her lips before she dropped her hands back down into her lap.

With the exception of llhaesa, who was looking around, gauging the expressions of the other parents, the remainder waited intently for Addison to explain.

“That I say this today is coincidental, and believe mum ‘essa can vouch for me. I give this caveat because of what has happened over the last two days. While things work well in this regard, it was not what sent me sorting, evaluating, and finally choosing.

Mum ‘essa, it is altogether beyond late for admission for the next semester, and if that proves the case, then I wait for the next opportunity for admission.

I guess what I am trying to say is…I wish to apply to N’rellia, and attend if they decide to accept me.”

Jahrae broke out an immediate smile, while Elsren and Ronnie looked more circumspect, evaluating.

“You say this is not a new decision,” Ronnie began, “yet this is the first we hear of it, Addison. Can you see where I might be a tad sceptical?”

“Ronnie, I have to vouch for Addison, she tells the truth. You know I mentioned earlier that Addie would say something soon on her education; I have sensed this since a couple of weeks before I left to return home. I suspect I know what prompted this, but…Addie, it is up to you to explain.”

“Are you going to take her side in everything, llhaesa, and justify it by how you feel, what you sense? Come on, be a parent for heaven’s sake. Our child is not yet seventeen, yet you are supporting everything she requests and wishes to do.” Ronnie was upset, catching everyone by surprise.

Llhaesa paused, evaluating, knowing she had to walk a careful path with her response. Leaving the sofa, she stood up and walked into the kitchen, reached in the cooler for a beer, grabbed an opener and removed the cap with the characteristic accompanying soft and telltale sound of bottled pressure releasing.

Returning to the living room, she stood at its edge and leaned against the wall, drawing a healthy pull. With one more look around the room, with confirmation all waited to hear what she had to say, she began.

“I have much to say, and I apologise if this will take time. Please hear me out on this.

One more cautionary statement before I begin to explain my thoughts, I will be a bit redundant, but at this point, I feel it necessary.

“I attended N’rellia, and you know my achievements there. I rarely talk about admissions, but I will now. The first letter of acceptance went out from N’rellia to me three years before my admission. You heard that right, three years.

By first letter, I do not mean the first letter to me; I mean the first letter they sent out to anyone. N’rellia recruited me, and they did not recruit anyone, ever – until that moment.

I learned this later from Curator Aalon, who trusted me with the truth. He felt I earned the right to know. They wanted me badly, and felt it was a safe haven for me in the gathering storm clouds of oppression.

I ultimately chose not to go early, mainly because I wished to stay at home with my parents a while longer. My parents had suffered a terrible blow with the loss of Cshrehyi before my birth, and I did not wish to leave any earlier than I had to, for them.

I stayed in high school and at Y’sre. Inside, part of me wished I had gone earlier to N’rellia, but looking back now, things aligned for a reason – meeting M’traliel and Khahishra, my valedictorian speech and performance, the banning, planning Nenseru, which led me to Jahrae.

My chosen path was the right one – for me. I would not wish to realign that progression, for what it brought to my life is about everything in my life… my family, my friends.

When I declined, N’rellia quietly advised me that they would take me whenever I was ready, even if that was between semesters during the year. It was up to me, and they would accommodate one extra student when I pronounced myself ready.

A few weeks after I arrived on Arrhazon, I chatted with the newly appointed Curator, who just happens to be my former mentor, M’sela J’serhn. M’sela reviewed what I provided on Addison – her grades, her testing, clips from the upcoming movie, and other background information. I wished her to know; I thought she knew nothing of Addie.

M’sela believes Addison is as I was 25 years ago – deserving to be their first choice for admission and with an open invitation to attend.

Addison, I did not have a chance to share that with you, and really I was careful – you had to choose, not be influenced by me, even though I love that you follow me there, because…you earned that right all on your own.

I know that when I left for Arrhazon, it was hard on everyone, especially on Jahrae, and upon you, Addie. I also know that prompted your re-evaluation of the proposal first made to you earlier this year, that day when we ended up at the beach, working it out.

I know you have thought about it since, and knew you would only seek a new path if you felt an overwhelming desire to follow that path.

You…are ready for that school. You…are ready to excel there, but what you accomplish is for you, not for me, nor anyone else; it is for you, and you should always evaluate your goals and your work there in terms of you and your future.

Everyone, Addison thought long on this; she weighed the good points and the bad points. I believe you all know in your hearts that she is ready for this step, that she is capable and deserving.

Ronnie, I take Addison’s side because logic tells me this is the right path. Logic, and who she is as a person, what she does beyond classrooms, make it so. If she needs an advocate in the family, and I would prefer she did not, but if she does, I appoint myself to that position.

Addison did not grow up yesterday, and she did not grow up today. It happened day-by-day, right in front of us over the last two years, from the moment Tim disappeared and we took to the fields of Vermont. She grew right there, and if you think back, you know this is true.

She grew a bit more while the government detained us; yet more when she chose to unmask. She grew exponentially in leadership, in skill, over the last year in school.

Think about our discussions over the last eighteen months on Addison. When one looks at the collective picture, it is small wonder we sit here today, hearing her wish.

Add to this fortuitous timing with Jahlaera. I need not outline Addie’s appearance, we all know. Suffice it is to say she will draw huge amounts of interest from others near her age. It happened at Watershed, and it happens on this ship, especially when one is aware of her overall ability.

Jahlaera follows an educational path like that of Addie. She demonstrated her loyalty and commitment to a friend yesterday. She is ideal to guide Addie into and through her first round at N’rellia, making this an even better choice, at least in my view.

I make no apology for my words, for my advocacy, or that we connect in ways not usual. It is what is, we have no choice, and we both make it work for better.

Now you can make light of all I say, you can dismiss it; that is up to you. Or you can recognise your daughter is especially gifted; gifted and deserving of our full confidence and support.”

Addison tried hard to hide her eyes, which grew misty from llhaesa’s passionate advocacy and defence.

Jahrae felt proud that llhaesa openly defended their daughter. She did not fault Ronnie; so much had changed for the family in two years, and grasping that change, grasping its possibilities and where it all led surely was occasionally daunting.

“Ronnie?” Jahrae asked, trying to spur discussion.

“Llhaesa surely makes a powerful case, J’har, and llhaesa, I appreciate your effort.

This is not easy for me, I try, and for the most part, I too have grown as a person.

Three years ago, can you imagine how I would react if someone told me Tim was not really Tim, and instead that he was in fact quite literally one of the most beautiful women in the universe?

Not stopping there, I would need to listen as someone suggested that Tim-now-mystery-woman had a prior life and was married to yet another universe-class goddess, and that my children, well…my children were not themselves, either – they were different in look, in some aspects of outlook, and in ability.

Is that story wild enough for anyone yet? All right, how about me falling in love with another woman, one born on a planet orbiting a star that my family would spend hours staring at through a telescope? Oh, and just for good measure, whoever created this fanciful tale would suggest that I was the new ambassador to that world.

Over just two years, that change…became my life, my truth; in fact, it is our lives, our truth. In summation: my ex husband is now a virtual goddess, the most revered person on one world, headed that way on the other, and happens to have an intellect that would make Einstein look silly.

Finishing the story, that world’s government exiled her for being a social activist, my eldest daughter wishes to emulate at least some of her life path, and… I am a dyke.

Forgive me for occasionally losing my way here. Llhaesa, I sheepishly admit you are right, and I apologise to you, and to Addison.”

“Ronnie, there is no need to apologise, we are Addie’s parents, and we need to discuss honestly and openly,” llhaesa graciously replied.

“I agree with llhaesa, we must discuss honestly, Ronnie,” Jahrae joined in. “When I first arrived, you encouraged me to step up and stake my claim as a parent, and well, now I am encouraging you to speak your mind, always.”

Elsrensia watched this exchange unfold, her mind processing their endlessly fascinating family dynamic. She was proud to be one of the four. “I agree, although my view was not that of Ronnie initially, I am glad she gave voice to what stirred within, and because she did, we sort and find a better place.

Addie, I have only known you, as with Jahrae, for not quite two years. I come from a family with a long history of medical scholarship, yet I have never encountered a student or young woman quite like you, and I mean that in a positive way.

You are N’rellia worthy, as was your mum ‘essa. You deserve this, and you are ready.”

Addison felt warmth surge through her, relishing how her parents thought highly of her, had confidence in her judgement, and felt her worthy to make such a huge jump in life. “Thank you, I am uncertain of what to say, but…it is appreciated.”

Llhaesa chose that moment as best to take this all a step further. “Interface, connect to N’rellia Conservatory, Office of the Curator,” llhaesa called out clearly from her standing spot, initiating a call.

An image of a woman, grey of hair yet still somewhat youthful of appearance, formed on the viewscreen, the image calling out, “llhaesa, to what do I owe the honour of your call?”

“Hello M’sela! I trust you are well.

I call on the subject we discussed when I visited a few weeks back.”

“About Addison, your daughter and student I would dearly love to get in my greedy educational clutches?”

“Exactly, that is the one!”

“I hope you called saying she is mine for the next four years. You would not wish to disappoint your old college advisor, now would you?”

“I certainly would not wish to do such a thing! M’sela, my co-parents are with me, as is one other. One moment, please.”

Llhaesa motioned for Addie to join her. Addie walked over and stood alongside llhaesa, suddenly a bit nervous, but still happy.

“M’sela, this is our eldest daughter, Addison.”

“Llhaesa, you are playing tricks on these mature and difficult to focus eyes. That is you standing there, well, double of you.”

“Nice try, M’sela, but I am me, and the person who is about to wave and speak is Addison. It’s all yours, Addie.

Addison followed llhaesa’s suggestion waving towards the viewscreen. “Curator J’serhn, hello! I am indeed Addison, and my mum caught me by surprise with this call.

You have a student entering her second year of school, Jahlaera Oserehi, who currently is an intern on this ship.”

“Yes, that is correct; I personally requested that internship for her. Jahlaera ranks at the top of her class, at least after one year – which is exactly what I expected. Why do you make mention of Jahla?”

“I would like to join her as a student at N’rellia.”

“I see. When did you wish to do this, Addison?”

“The next available opening you have for a student – if of course I am acceptable to N’rellia.”

“Acceptable? She didn’t tell you everything, did she?”

“Who, mum?”

“Yes, your mum ‘essa. Well, if she won’t, I will.

Llhaesa stood off to the side giggling as M’sela chatted with Addison, knowing what was coming.

“Addison,” M’sela began her explanation, “I told your mum ‘essa that as an alumnus of N’rellia, she had a moral obligation to recruit you – the best student prospect I have seen since her – for our school. Further, if she did not, I would go around Arrhazon painting a villainous moustache on every picture of her I could find – and there are plenty.”

The comment caught everyone except llhaesa by uproarious surprise, and she was already laughing in anticipation of the revelation.

“You seriously told her this?” Addison asked.

“She did, Addie, honest to goodness, she did,” llhaesa confirmed.

“I did tell her that. Of course, the decision is yours, Addison, but I wished your mum to know that I consider you an exceptional student who I would love to see at our institution – at your convenience, when you are ready.”

“At my convenience?” Addison asked, once again confused. “How do you mean?”

“I mean you can start with the next term in less than three months – if you wish.”

“Don’t I have to fill out an application?” Addison found it hard to believe this was happening.

“Yes, but you can do that when you get here.”

“But…the acceptance rate for N’rellia is 5 out of 1,000 applications, how…”

“How can I say you are admitted?

My entire admissions department has been proclaiming your talents for a year now. They make it their business to know of students who might be destined for and worthy of this school. You my dear, have had them drooling that entire time.”

Posted in Aalon, Addison, Arrhazon, Dr Elsrensia K’avahra, Jahlaera Oserehi, Jahrae, Khahishra, M'sela J'serhn, M'traliel, N'rellia, Ronnie, llhaesa | Tagged blog fiction, blog novels, books, creative writing, eBooks, feminism, feminist fiction, fiction, fiction writing, lesbian, lesbian books, lesbian fiction, lesbian literature, lesbian stories, lesbian-novels, lgbt fiction, literature, novels, online authors, online books, online novels, original fiction, science fiction, stories, story telling, writing, writing-inspiration | Leave a Comment »

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raison d’être

Over the past seven months, writing the individual stories of llhaesa and Jahrae, as well as their common story, has taken a special place in my heart.

There are some elements, those with playful exchanges, or those where discussion is heavier, that grab hold of my emotions, sometimes even grab hold of my thoughts, weighing upon me during the day.

llhaesa’s story has been welling inside of me for some significant time in rough form. The story is a by-product of coping with gender dysphoria, of being a feminist and a lesbian, and dealing with all the issues related to being lgbt through my life, from closet to post-coming out; while finding – or perhaps stumbling - my way through.
Music is the catalyst, a translator of raw sensory information and feelings, that helps me take the cloud forming in my mind and shape it into story. Sometimes this is via the lyrics, other times through the melody, sometimes simply by way of the sound of an individual instrument.

Musical influences come from Delerium; Beth Orton; Dar Williams; Joan Armatrading; Sarah McLachlan; Tori Amos; Natalie Merchant; Heather Nova; Tracy Chapman; Linda Perry; Alanis Morissette; Bruce Springsteen; Brooke White; Roxy Music; and many others.

There is no order to the posting of story elements or in writing them; each is posted randomly in time, of character, of place - much like how we might share stories from our lives with another. There are times when I will string together elements, and that pattern is evident in the rescue of llhaesa and the subsequent reunion.

Most of the novel is told via a narrator; with one exception. Writing llhaesa’s last day from her perspective - what she experiences, what she sees unfold around her, how she views and reacts to these things – seemed more compelling and interesting. I added one final element to this that actually is not of her last day on Arrhazon, but in her coming out here.

There are six posts told from llhaesa’s real time experience. These story elements (in her words I-VI) are the most interesting and fun to write, as well as the most emotionally draining. As I write this, 29 posts remain in book one, and the last ten have proven the most demanding emotionally.

Some of the story involves an element of science fiction, necessary to bridge the connection between the two worlds, the disconnects, the reconnects. It is not my intent to fashion a tale of science fiction, and the parts that touch on it will remain an essential minimum. The true intent is to share a humanist and feminist story, one where two worlds struggle to find their way to gender equality. The main protagonists are lesbian, and we get to see where at least on one world, this is no issue. Our world can have issue with us, and in this story, one gets to watch as both worlds find their way to creating more accepting and equal societies. The next book will find llhaesa facing this issue square on.

The story consists of 300 individual elements, which when collectively read forms a story of book length. As written currently and displayed on the blog, this is a rough draft; changes will likely be made over time to already published elements.

This is Book One, as what follows post 300 will best be framed into its own book. The second will address issues that will be at once interesting and challenging to explore and contemplate - building upon the story told in Book One. Llhaesa, drawing upon idealism, optimism, and an incredible ability to motivate, will tackle issues in ways I believe most all of us in the lesbian community would wish to see unfold in actuality. If nothing else, the story allows us to get lost in fantasy for a while.

While the title is ‘world’s undone,' this is really the life story of and the results triggered by an incredibly talented musician and activist. Llhaesa refuses to sit idly by while gender discrimination harms the women of her world and freedom is lost on one world, paying a terrible price for her effort. When she resurfaces here, now it is our turn to face her challenges to a world resulting from her unrelenting vision and dreams.

Jahrae, while prominent throughout the story, is sort of the unsung hero, the person who grows through the story to become a formidable presence in her own right. This is by design, and her growth is a perfect match to llhaesa, who needs someone to challenge and inspire her to new learning, to new creativity.

As I wrote the story, note that I originally did not plan on having the children parented by Jahrae, Ronnie, and llhaesa. Initially my intent was for friction to build, to show that sometimes we run into difficulty seeing eye to eye with our spouses. In the end, I could not do this, for my idealism and optimism, of trying to craft something as it should be, got in the way.

llhaesa ahrella t'yaeli
say that again?

Aalon:
A.ah.lawn

Aailhra:
A.yul.har.rah

Arrhazon:
Are.ha zawn

Brellian:
Brr.L.lee.an

Chsensera:
Cheh.sen.sear.rah

Cshrehyi:
Sess.ray.hee

Djellrin:
Dee.jell.er.in

E'sphara:
E.ss.far.ruh

Gl’nsiel Frehsan:
Jellen.sheel Fray.shawn

Hrilleae:
Ha.rill.ee.ay

I'Isahra M'lensa:
I.ih.sah.rah Mah.len.sah

Jahrae T'srha Khentavra:

Ja.ha.ray Teh.share.ahh Ka.hen.tahv.rah

Jesnsera Sserhara:

Ja.ess.en.sear.ah Say.sear.ahh

Elsrensia K’avahra:
L.sir.rent.sha Kah.hah.vair.ah

Khaehala:
Kay.ha.la

Khahishra:
Ka.ha.heesh.ruh

Kyielra:
Ka.E.I'll.ra

llhaesa ahrella t'yaeli:

laa.hay.ess.sah are.ha.rell.la tay.lye

Lzrehae N’seseh:
Lah.zer.ra.hay N.sha.say

M'sela J'serhn:
Mah.sell.ahh Jay.sehr.hen

M'traliel Zralensa:

M.tra.lee.ell Zee.ra.len.sah

Mrevan:
Mm.ruh.van

Njesera:
En.djuh.say.rah

N'rellia:
N.rell.lee.ah

Olterian:
Oh.L.tear.E.an

Saehressa:
Sigh.ah.ress.ah

Serada:
Sir.rah.da

Sjre Jlrasre:
S.jer.ray Jas.sell.rass.er

Sk'vra Kjurha:
Skeh.var.rah Kah.jour.rah

Vreloran:
Vreh.lore.an

Zreltian:
Zzer.L.she.an
people and places
- 51 Pegasi
- Aailhra
- Aalon
- Addison
- AGA
- Ahrella T'srha
- Alicia Ellenwood
- Anita
- Aolaera T’rlassi
- arlkhala
- Arrhazon
- Arrhazon College
- Arrhka
- Arrkarhara
- Barbara Millwood
- Bill Green
- Boston
- Brellian
- Casey
- Chris Kappel
- Chsensera
- city north
- Cshrehyi
- David
- Djellrin
- Dolores
- Dottie Salston
- Dr Elsrensia K’avahra
- Dr. Ed Ellsworth
- Dr. Wrehsx
- E'sphara
- Empo
- Ensign Sserhara
- Gl'nsiel
- Henry Smithson
- Hrilleae
- Hyassil Lvolamihr
- I’Isahra M’lensa
- Ibrahim Harare
- J'saera
- Jahlaera Oserehi
- Jahrae
- Jamie Collins
- Jamila Karenga
- J’luhre Forest Preserve
- Jesnsera
- Jredvarha City
- Keene
- Kendra Canton
- Khaehala
- Khahishra
- Kukaeshra
- Kyielra
- Lajxa R’chr
- L’juriloe Jsequelha
- Lisa Grennon
- llhaesa
- London
- Lzrehae
- M'sela J'serhn
- M'traliel
- Marcia Paang
- Margaret Okoro Nwosu
- Mark Cahill
- M’korae
- Melissa Kappel
- Miahsara Kensoli
- Mrevan
- N'rellia
- N'rellia Naturally
- Nenseru Woods
- Njesera
- North 41
- Old City
- Olterian
- Oluraesa Y’elorha
- reiki
- Ronnie
- Sabah Fayed
- Saehressa
- Sara Beth
- Sarah Montarra
- Sarah Willingham
- S’salihn
- SEQ
- Serada
- Sjre Jlrasre
- Sk'vra
- Sohrae H’ahlser
- southeast quadrant
- Susan Woodward
- Sylvia Washington
- The Highlands Inn
- Tim
- V'aesza
- Vicki
- Vreloran
- Watershed Regional
- Y'sre School of Music
- Zreltian
who’s who

Aalon:
Chief Curator of N’rellia Conservatory of Music

Aailhra:
Arrhazonan equivalent to Reiki

Addison:
Ronnie and llhaesa’s eldest daughter

Arrhazon:
llhaesa & Jahrae home world

Brellian:
Unstable Arrhazonan dictator

Chsensera:
Child friend of llhaesa and Jahrae

Cshrehyi T’yaeli:
llhaesa’s brother

Djellrin Khentavra:
Jahrae’s dad

E'sphara:
Owner of E’sphara Artist Colony

Gl’nsiel Frehsan:
Chief of Government after Brellian

Hrilleae Khentavra:
Jahrae’s mum

Admiral I'Isahra M'lensa:
Commander of Equality

Jahrae T'srha Khentavra:

llhaesa’s wife, and Ambassador

Jesnsera Sserhara:

hero of revolution who saves Jahrae

Ensign Jesnsera Sserhara:

daughter of Jahrae’s friend & wife of Chsensera

Elsrensia K’avahra:
Physician and revolutionary

Khaehala:
Chsensera’s mum

Khahishra:
llhaesa’s college roommate and M’traliel’s wife

Kyielra:
victim of murder, witnessed by young Jahrae

llhaesa ahrella t'yaeli:

musician and leader of two worlds

Lzrehae N’seseh:
Government employee and discoverer of important documents

M'sela J'serhn:
llhaesa’s college advisor

M'traliel Zralensa:

friend of llhaesa, and first lover

Mrevan:
llhaesa’s dad

Njesera:
Head of government records department

N'rellia:
Llhaesa’s college and most prestigious school on Arrhazon

Olterian:
Concert promoter

Saehressa:
llhaesa’s mum

Serada:
Ronnie and llhaesa’s youngest daughter

Sjre Jlrasre:
Café owner

Sk'vra Kjurha:
llhaesa nemesis and future hero of revolution

Vreloran:
government technician who helps llhaesa

Zreltian:
Former Arrhazonan Chief of Government
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Worlds Undone
by llhaesa t'yaeli

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Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Based on a work at http://llhaesa.org/.
CC Licence II

Worlds Undone
by llhaesa

Is licensed under a

Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Based on a work at llhaesa.wordpress.com.
Pages
- llhaesa

daft original fiction by…

blog best viewed in…

raison d’être

say that again?

people and places

who’s who

15 recent tales

historical tales

every book needs a cover

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CC License

CC Licence II

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