Covenants

I'm taking the Hope Street trolley. Hope Street, what a misnomer that is. One could only wish that things were better on Hope Street. However, Hope Street is more hopeless than ever, housing even more run down, residents more downtrodden, but now devoid of even the possibility of hope. I rattle and roll into my old neighborhood on a streetcar of despair.

I do not have to avail myself of this mode of transportation. I have a car, a driver, and an escort if required. This part of the City is known as The Bottom, a dangerous place to visit at any time. Now, I disembark here at Hope Street and Charity Lane. I walk a half a block. I stop and I stare at the tenement where we grew up. There is an odor of decay, rotten food, and gutted souls. There is a decidedly unhealthy atmosphere about this block, just as there is on every block in this section of The Bottom.

A light is on in our old apartment, on the third floor on the right. I know that once I enter that apartment, I will be traveling into my own squalid past. I sigh deeply and take the first steps up to the place I long not to be. I stand outside my apartment door where I grew up with my sister, brother and our cousin Zanzibar, the current occupant. I'm here on her behalf. I knock reluctantly and slowly. The door opens instantly. Zanzibar is there, tall and slender with her long wavy gray hair tied up in a knot.

Her eyes and her face are strained. She steps back so I might enter. My cousin embraces me wholeheartedly, and I return her embrace.

She greets me, "Cousin, are you well?"

"Zanzibar, in the light of your shinning star, I am well."

For a moment, there is a light in her eyes. "Teakwood, you have never been a very good liar."

She is trying so hard just to be here in this world for a moment or two. She is a "Nodder": druggie, an addict, a sniffer, and a user. She's starting to tremble. I know that in this little two-bedroom apartment somewhere there is a Golden Sector Cross. The GSC is the highest award for valor given by our military. She earned it and other medals and awards. She has cast them aside as she has much of her past life.

My great warrior cousin starts to shake harder. She tries desperately to control her body's expression of desire for Nodding, but it is impossible. She motions toward the kitchen. "They all in there." She dashes to the ratty old couch and her stash even before I can turn toward the kitchen.

In the kitchen, there is Zanzibar's son, Roman, and his best friend, Wild as the Wind, and Zanzibar's man of the hour, large and loud, Legal Tender. The teenage boys are the reason that I'm here.

Roman, a lean and savvy seventeen, is quick to the floor, standing and confronting me.

"You're not going to make a slave of me."

I start to respond, but I'm cut off by the booming voice of a frustrated Legal.

"Listen to Teakwood, Roman. Just listen, that's all we're asking of you. Sit down and listen for the sake of the Gods. Have the sense for once in your life to just goddamn listen."

There is a pause as Roman turns toward Legal and glares at him. Roman flops back in his seat with his arms crossed and a frown on his face.

I take a seat myself. Wild is quick to question me. "How do you get here man? In a bad ride. A Cabriolet, I bet. Damn, man. That'll be me soon." The look on his face gives the lie to his words.

I turn to Wild, and I look at him again. I have not seen him in a year. He has grown into a handsome young man with the street badges emblazoned on his skin, including the scar across his forehead, all the way to his right ear. His scarred hands have swollen scrapped knuckles and his little finger on his right hand is bent into an improbable angle.

I turn to Roman, the smart one of this doomed duo. He too wears his battle scars with pride. There is a thin scar across his chin, another running up the left side of his neck and one along almost the full length of his upper right arm. That scar has been turned into a tattoo of an open bleeding wound.

I glance at Legal. He just shakes his shaggy, blond head.

I turn back to the boys, "Gentleman, this is my offer to you. It is not a kidnapping or a shanghai. I'm here because Roman's mother--"

"Druggie bitch--"

I raise my finger as a warning. I goddamn mean it. I will give Roman more than scars to remember. He gets the message.

I continue, "... asked me to be here. I will speak. You will listen, and then I will be gone. Do we understand each other?"

Roman nods in the affirmative, and Wild sighs in exasperation. I make myself comfortable. I lean back. I look both boys in the eyes. "Watson's offering a position as an apprentice in his fabrication shop. You would be his slave for a term of five or seven years. Watson has always seen his slaves as moneymaking ventures. He encourages his slaves to work to develop a wide range of skills, and he splits their outside income seventy-five percent for you, 25% for him. He also provides room and board. Watson's not a kind man. He's not a good man. He's a fair businessman, and if you work under him as a slave, you will prosper. You will make money. You will be off the street."

"Yeah, while he gets our labor for free. Screw that, man."

"Wild, let me finish. The testimony that speaks strongest for this arrangement is that of the 10 slaves that Watson has had over the past 15 years, eight have elected to remain with him as slaves. Four of them have slaves of their own. This is a take it or leave it opportunity."

The boys are not at all impressed with my offer.

"We all know that the future for both of you is short; another year at most before the street kills you."

"We'll goddamn leave it. You can leave now." Roman is on his feet as he points toward the door.

"Oooh, sit down." Legal is standing and looking at the boys. "The street is going to get you or you will get busted and be sold as contract laborers. The prison will hire you out to be worked to death. That is worse than slavery."

Wild stands to confront Legal, "Screw you, dealer." Wild turns toward me with another blast of rage, "Go to hell, slaver."

I stand and start for the door. Roman jumps in front of me.

"Uncle, Uncle... I... I appreciate... screw it." He gives me a quick hug and steps back just as quickly.

Wild tries to climb on the bandwagon now. "Look, look you two had your shots and you're not slaves. That's what we want. That's all."

I want to tell them the world is different now. That there was a sliver of hope when Legal and I were their age, but now... I know they have heard that a million times.

The boys shake hands with us old fools. I start for the door again. I stop and make one last offer. It is a wild shot, but I'm out of options.

"I do have one other proposition that may interest you. I have 5,000 acres on a moon in Sector Three. It is a backward farming place. There are no gangs or Secret Police or many drugs. It is a plain and demanding life. There are few amusements and very limited choices in mates and career opportunities are even more limited. Here is my offer. If you wish, I will provide you transportation to this moon, and an opportunity to work for me. It's manual labor with low, but fair pay. You will not be a slave. You will be freer than you are now but your future opportunity will be limited."

"I ain't no farmer." Roman makes his statement sound like a question. I ignore his remark.

"It is the way of things that, one day, the great corporate enterprises will sweep up this rock too, and it will become part of the slave system, but I do not see that occurring for decades in the future and even longer if I have any say."

I look around at the boys. They seem, for the moment, a bit confused by this offer, this view of freedom.

I nod to Legal, step out of the kitchen, and cross quickly to the front door, trying to not see Zanzibar nodding on the couch.

I'm half way to the trolley stop when Wild calls out my name. He walks me to the trolley stop. We talk about life on my moon. We talk for an hour or so at the trolley stop.

I give him twenty-four hours to say his goodbyes. I transfer 200 credits to his account to take care of his obligations and for spending money for the trip.

He could be conning me, he could change his mind, or he could die within the next twenty-four hours. I hope and pray that Hope Street lets him live to find his hope elsewhere.

I am in the mood to ride the trolley. For some reason, I feel like I need to regain my roots in the City. I will take the trolley across Midtown and transfer to the uptown trolley.

My destination is the old Chairman Mao Military Base. The Base has been closed for decades. Now, it is reopened to house the desperate immigrants from Huron.

The planet Huron has been rendered uninhabitable due to a massive mining operation. The Plums, the native people of that planet, have been lodged in various temporary housing throughout the Sector. They are farming people and have little knowledge of or history in urban living. They are increasingly desperate as it becomes apparent to them that they will never return to Huron or even be reunited as a whole people.

They are a scattered and desperate population. Just saying that their Base housing projects reeks of poverty, anger and frustration would be a major understatement. It is a powder keg, waiting impatiently for a spark.

After the Midtown stop the population of my trolley changes dramatically from a mosaic of many colors, to shades of purple, to black skin and raven black, to brilliant magenta hair. As we draw closer to the Base, I'm the only non-Plum on the trolley.

Three blocks from my station three teenage thugs move in on me. The tall one with the gap teeth and the silly Red Hat is the leader. His two companions look like they could be brothers or cousins. The two relatives turn and approach the riders on both sides of me. Those riders quickly abandon their seats. The leader sits directly across from me. They all stare at me waiting for my reaction. I lean over to the one on the left and tell him I can cut his throat before the leader can pull his stun gun. I leaned over to the one on my right and I repeat that message. The two farm boys sit as heavy as hay stacks. They do not react to me. They turn to Red Hat waiting for his instructions.

The leader leans forward with his hands on his knees, "Lovely, you need to give all your valuables to us for the greater good of The Only Real People. If you avail yourself of this opportunity, we'll not have to mess you up."

I lean forward to join him in conversation and at the same time pile drive my right fist into his face cracking his nose and smash his head back into the window. I recoil my right elbow into the face of the thug on my right. The thug on the left makes an ineffectual grab for me. I respond much more effectively. I grab the hair of his head with both hands and smash his face down into the iron rail between our seats. The boys have no more fight in them. They drag themselves away holding their bloody, broken faces.

These are amateurs, but by the end of the year, they will be professionals. They will better understand the risks, make better target selection and make their attacks more efficient. They will become predators among the other predators in this city of carnivores. I know they can't wait to thank me for providing them with these important lessons in adapting to the ways of life in the big city.

___

Three young children are playing in the Sentry booth that once guarded the entry to the Base. They make faces and rude noises at me as I walk pass them.

The other residents pretend to ignore me, but everyone is keeping an eye on me.

I knock politely on her door. She answers quickly. She pales and swallows hard when she sees me. She starts to step back, but I grab her arm and pull her out the door. She offers only mild resistance.

She is a handsome purple-black woman of about thirty-five and a mother to three girls.

"We had a deal. Was I unfair or unclear about our terms?"

She shakes my hand off her arm, stands tall, and looks me directly in the eyes. "You were fair and clear." Her words are slow and precise in her fourth language learned in as many years.

"Let us walk to the gardens." She comes with me willingly. "Have I failed to carry out my part of our agreement?"

She pauses to smile at and touch the face of an older woman who smiles back at her. "You fulfilled your part."

Every eye and ear on the street, in the windows, doorways, and on porches strain to hold onto our image and capture our conversation. "Did I offend you in some way?"

A soft breeze brushes our cheeks and ruffles her hair.

"You did not offend me." Again, she pauses. "You were, are, respectful."

We walk into the communal garden and down a row of stubby, broad-leafed greens. She stops to pluck a bug from a leaf. She waves at a child weeding in a row next to us.

"Have you the means to compensate me for my losses?"

Her answer is immediate, "I regret, I do not." She looks up at the sky, down at the growing things, and breathes deeply. "It was not to be."

We walk a few more steps, and I break her neck with a single blow from my right hand. She utters a soft gasp. I lower her to the ground in the row between greens and melons.

I close her eyes and fold her arms over her chest. I say a little prayer.

As I walk away, the keening and moaning starts only the women and girls participate in this ritual weeping. The men will wear their jackets or tunics inside out as a sign of morning.

No one will stop me, or even try. Everyone knew why I was there, and what I was going to do.

It is the way of things among the Plums, or as they presumptuously call them selves, "The Only Real People."

My car is waiting for me by the sentry box. The same three kids stand in silence as I past by.

In the back seat of my car, Kiyatana senses my need as I enter the car. She greets me with open thighs and a warm, wet passage to pleasure.

"Teakwood, you admired that Plum woman. You said she was smart and strong... you said she was, was, '...vital and necessary.' So why did you kill her?"

I study Kiyatana, her serious eyes, ripe mouth, and smooth brown skin. She is a great beauty that houses a finer and greater mind. I'll answer her question in my own good time, and she'll be patient. I'll gaze on her beauty and catch glimpses of the brutal landscape of my home city as we drive to our next destination.

"Kiy, there were three boys on the trolley. They met with minor misfortune. I want you to find out who they are."

Kiyatana flashes me a look of annoyance at my use of my nickname for her. She picks up her communicator and quickly finds a picture of the three bloodied boys and displays it as a hologram.

"Your handiwork, Teak?"

I nod yes and ignore her use of a nickname for me.

"What do you want to happen to these boys?"

We are driving past a long stretch of homeless shacks on our way to the shuttle port. Someone hurtles a bag of excrement at our car it explodes against the window on my side.

Kiyatana waits with her lips parted showing her perfect teeth and soulful eyes for my instructions.

"Put something good in their way. A job... low pay, manual labor to start... with an opportunity to do more... to support themselves. It is a priority."

"Why, Teakwood?"

Kiyatana is not a slave and she's not quite free. She's a gift that I dare not reject. She's her own person, and she comes and goes at will. She's not a concubine, servant or employee. This is the first time she has had sex with me in the six months she has worked for me. She accepts no pay from me or gifts of real value.

I have the impression that she is wealthy in her own right. Her education is as exceptional as her looks.

I do not trust her at all, but I rely on her more every day.

"Her name was Spirit of Life. Her elders betrayed her. Set her up, and let her down. If I had not killed her, they would have killed her and mutilated, scattered and hidden her body parts so her soul would never rest."

I now have Kiyatana's full attention.

"She has three daughters. They are my wards now. That is a highest priority."

Kiyatana sets about setting up the protections for the girls.

"Kiyatana, thank you, for keeping the car close, your eyes open and for, for your kindness."

I close my eyes. I sleep.

Twenty-four hours later, I get the message from Mason, my employee in my home town, "Teak, Wild is... is not here. Roman is here he wants to talk with you, OK?"

"Uncle, are you well?"

"I stand in the sunshine of your voice. Nephew, are you well?"

"As well as you, Uncle."

"And Wild, how is he?"

"He met with grave misfortune."

I take a moment to look around my well-furnished room, on my own freighter manned by my own crew. I remember his broken little finger.

"Uncle, if it pleases you, I would like to work for you."

We do this all the time when we speak in public or over devices. We go back to the stilted, old formal language. I don't know why.

"You wish to be a farmer?"

"No, I wish to work with you, if it pleases you."

"In that line of work, I'm only hiring slaves."

There is a pause and I can hear a trolley in the background.

"Uncle, I enter your servitude at your pleasure."

"And your mother?"

"I have her blessing, and she my protection. She wishes you well as always."

And that's that. I have to find a place to protect this boy as best as I can. I have to look into the "misfortune" that Wild encountered.

I will do all that and more, as I negotiate an agreement that will probably double my wealth and triple my influence.

Kiyatana and I are in my office on the SS Enterprise 007, a rundown looking short haul freighter. A corporation owns her. I forget which one, but she is my favorite space side office.

Inside gives lie to outside. This is a spacious room with quality furnishings. It seats ten in comfortable chairs, couches, and lounges. There are no desks, and one bulkhead gives the illusion of a glass window looking out on space. The picture is real time images of the outside.

"Who is the negotiator for Wasi and Company?"

Kiyatana does not have to consult her communicator to respond. "Ghost Man Chang. His birth name is Harold Castillo Lee-Fong. He's twenty-six, a cousin to Tsukiko Wasi. He was a fair student at university and is an arrogant, sloppy negotiator. This is a make or break assignment for him if he wants to be part of the family business."

"Is that his ambition, to be part of the family business?"

"His ambition is boundless. He wants to run the family business and rule the world shortly thereafter."

Kiyatana is resplendent in a filmy blue top that exposes her midriff. Her bottom garment is a clingy skirt of the same material and color. Her hair is up in a topknot. Her makeup is perfect.

"Who is his secretary?"

She smiles that smile that will launch a thousand ships to their doom and leans into me, "That is the interesting part. His secretary is Ludwig Ernesto Goodwill, a well respected professional secretary out of New Lands in Sector One." Now, there is a decided twinkle in her eyes. "Except that is not who is going to show up at our negotiation. We will be honored with the presence of Ang Luc Fan otherwise known as Phantom."

Kiyatana has done outstanding due diligence work just as she has performed every task I have assigned her.

Phantom is an assassin of the first rank. Neither I, nor Kiyatana, is deserving of his attentions. Both of us could be disposed of with a much less expensive killer, and that only leaves Ghost Man Chang as a possible target. This is getting interesting.

I call in my secretary, Zane of Anderson Township, and Insolence, my fourteen-year-old Exec, a bald headed, skinny, ruthless girl that I trust implicitly. She reminds me of my cousin, Zanzibar.

It is always very fascinating to have Kiyatana and Insolence in the same small space. Insolence pretty much ignores Kiyatana. That is one of the few things that I have seen that truly offends and irritates my lovely gift.

I thank Zane and authorize his payment in full and a bonus. Zane has worked for me long enough to not ask why he is being dismissed so abruptly.

I have Insolence put us at an alert and rapid response status. I explain about Phantom and ask her advice.

Her reddish brown eyes study me for a minute and shift to Kiyatana. They linger there for moment, as if Insolence were evaluating pigs for the market or which damaged fruit to toss out.

"Insolence, you live up to your name. Why are you offended by my presence?"

True to form, Insolence ignores Kiyatana's question.

Kiyatana is coming to a slow boil.

I'm going to put my money on Insolence if this comes to combat, which I will not allow to happen. Kiyatana is inches taller, pounds heaver, and university trained in person-to-person combat.

Insolence is not a fighter at all. She was trained in the filthy alleys, brothels, jails, and drug dens in a place that makes The Bottom look like a Sunday school playground. Insolence is not a fighter. Insolence is a killer.

My Exec narrows her eyes and folds he hands in her lap. She looks like she is at prayer. "We are pawns in a bigger game. This is very dangerous for us because we do not understand the big game." She pauses closes her eyes and speaks with her eyes closed. "Phantom is here to kill all of you or none of you depending on how the big game plays out."

Kiyatana starts to speak, but I hold up my hand for silence. I wait.

"I will be your secretary. It will improve our odds of survival if it comes to combat."

"No, Insolence you will not. You will run this business as I have directed until such time as you confirm my grave misfortune. Thank you for the offer and the advice. Prepare the lifeboat, not the shuttle, for departure."

Insolence is on her feet, eyes open and looking at Kiyatana.

"You are offensive to me, because you are a lie and a trick and you mean us ill will."

Kiyatana is on her feet and moving toward Insolence.

"Kiyatana, stop where you are. I would hate to return a damaged gift."

Kiyatana is raging. I doubt if she heard my words, but the tone caught her attention and brings her to an immediate stop.

Insolence had turned away even before I spoke. She stops at the door. "Will that be all?"

I wave her out.

"Do you believe as the bald, bellicose bitch? Do you believe I mean you ill will?"

Kiyatana is struggling to regain her composure as she stands over me.

"Sit down. We have more important things to discuss. We have a negotiation at hand."

Kiyatana shifts into a different gear. She puts aside her anger and disappointment. She is intrigued and not at all frightened by the prospect of being in a small room with a high-ranking assassin as anyone with half a mind would be.

"You want me to be your secretary? It would be my privilege. I--"

"No, I will be your secretary. You will negotiate."

"I, I, I thank you. Teakwood, I apologize for losing my temper and for ques--"

"No apology required. Are you ready to negotiate?"

"Yes, yes of course. All I need is the basic parameters, your goals and bottom lines--"

"Kiyatana, I trust you to make the correct decisions. You set the parameters. I will keep an eye on Phantom."

My gift is as excited and eager as child on her birthday eve. She actually glows.

"OK, let's go do this." I hope I have made the right decisions. I'm betting my life on Kiyatana.

As I stand, she hugs me and entices me with her touch and perfumes - rouses memories I wish I had more of.

As she steps back I give her my final word.

"However, this works out, if we are so lucky as to not meet with misfortune, do not ever challenge my Exec or questions her orders. Are we clear?"

We are clear. I know we are. I have lived with dangerous people all my life, and, whatever she is, Kiyatana is no Zanzibar or Insolence or Phantom.

___

He's completely ordinary and nondescript. About forty, with tan skin, black straight hair, and brown eyes. He's of average height and build. He has a pleasant smile and a quiet manner. Not what I had anticipated in a world-class assassin.

For this incarnation, Phantom is calling himself, Ranger Earl from New Belgium.

When Kiyatana and I arrive at the designated conference room, Earl is being dressed down by a very irate Ghost Man Chang. Either Chang is an extraordinarily effective actor or he does not know who Earl is. I'm betting on the latter.

Chang turns toward to us as we enter and he makes his second mistake in our presence. His eyes linger too long on Kiyatana. He has done his homework, and he thinks I will be the negotiator. His full attention should be on me. He should not be distracted by his issues with Earl or the incandescent beauty of Kiyatana.

Chang quickly crosses to me and bows his head as part of a formal introduction. I turn my back on him, move to Earl, and start the formal introduction process with him. It takes a few seconds for Chang to understand that Kiyatana and I have switched roles. He should not be surprised. This role switch between negotiator and secretary, while not common, it is not rare either.

Kiyatana does a wonderful job of covering his blunder and of putting Chang at ease.

Earl is quietly impressed by our little switch and Kiyatana's gracious manners.

Earl and I are even more impressed at how adroitly she handles Chang. She steers him in the directions she wants him to go and saves him from his own over reaching tendencies.

Five hours later, we have a deal that is fair to both sides and makes Chang look like a first rate negotiator.

As we say our formal goodbyes Earl actually smiles at me, and best of all no one dies.

I'm exhausted after negotiations and spending hours taking the necessary immediate actions to put our agreements in effect. I'm in my office with Insolence. I've updated her on all that has transpired. I have congratulated Kiyatana and given her the week off.

"Boss, I know you are ready to go get some rest, but I have one other report that you should hear."

"Good news or bad."

"I'll let you be the judge of that. We have been looking into Kiyatana since the Overlord gifted her to you."

"Yeah, that has not been a very productive inquiry has it?"

"It is producing now. Kiyatana is a Druz, an ancient people with a long and kinda weird history. Kiyatana is a Druz princess--"

"A member of a royal house?"

"More like the creator of a royal line."

Now I'm getting interested. "What exactly does that mean?"

"Oh, she is of royal blood, but she is important because of what she can do. She is one that is born every five hundred years. She is special."

"Exactly how so?"

"She can live well over one-hundred and fifty years, and she can bear children all her life."

"Now, that is different, and I have a feeling that this revelation is important to me personally."

There is the hint of a smile in my young Exec's eyes. "Maybe boss maybe. Your gift has another thing that she does that's kinda scary."

"OK, Insolence, you got me hooked. Reel me in."

"She can store sperm in her body and keep it alive for her whole life."

I'm up and walking my office, weaving in and out of my chairs.

"Awww, dammit! We had sex."

"When you came back from Ceres from your home visit."

"Yeah, this is, I need to talk to her."

"About what?"

"You know what."

"Boss, you need to sit down and think. Really sit, please."

I sit across from my Exec.

"I'm young, but I know you could have protected yourself from getting her pregnant. You know there are pills, implants all kinds of things for men--"

"Damn, I know that but I wasn't planning--"

"Come on, Teak. You have been lusting after her from the moment you first saw her. You know it."

I'm up walking again. "But she can discharge or kill or not use my sperm... we can make a deal."

"The way I see it you already made a deal."

"What do you mean?"

"You needed her when you came back from Ceres. Look, it was more than getting some sex. You needed her, to, you know, comfort and stuff... and she gave you what you needed, and you gave her what she needed."

We sit there for a minute or two in silence.

"Boss, she only collects sperm from people that show great promise. You know, power players and such."

"Yeah, power playing fools like me."

"Kings and rulers, corporate leaders, and sports and media stars and, you know, just the best of the best."

"Insolence, you can go now."

"Sure, but think about it. If she offered herself to you again what would you do?"

I think about it. I turn my lights off, watch the stars, and think about the deals I have made recently. I think I may have compromised my future in ways I never anticipated. I fall into an uneasy sleep, wondering if have won anything or lost everything.

Two weeks later Insolence has solved the Phantom mystery, his target was Kiyatana. It is obvious to me what our next step is, but Insolence has a surprisingly different position.

"Teakwood, I understand your reasoning; she misled us about her true intent, she placed us all in grave danger--"

"She also moved to make a physical assault on you in my presence. She might as well have attacked me."

"Well, that is one way to view it--"

"And how else could you view it?"

"Boss, it was going to be verbal confrontation. Kiyatana was not willing to jeopardize her work here for--"

"Insolence, why are you supporting her? You never liked her and you goaded her into that physical or verbal confrontation. Why defend her now?"

"Look, Boss, you all ambivalent about Kiyatana. You like her a lot and it's not just lust. You resent her 'stealing' your sperm. You want to punish her and you want to screw her and you want--"

"Insolence, it's not about what I want. What she did is punishable by death. Putting us in danger like that deserves capital punishment. You know it. We have created unfortunate endings for others for a lot less."

"Yea, we have, but she is a golden opportunity. She is so damn valuable with her connections and collections of sperm. I mean, just think of the info she could bring us from the great houses and elites. Boss, her looks alone--"

"Enough. I've had enough. Damn. Arrange a get-away and a picnic for Kiyatana and me, in the tribal lands... near the Tam River at Two Winds."

Insolence stands and crosses to the door. She pauses at the door.

"Kiyatana is twenty-two years old. Give her the chance somebody gave you when you were twenty-two, and, it is always about what you want. You should try to figure that out, Boss. Don't be rash. We can't, and you can't, afford that."

I wave Insolence out. Many of our associates and others have visited the tribal lands near Two Rivers and they still reside there. Kiyatana would be welcome company for those lost souls.

Three days later Kiyatana and I have our last meal together on the banks of the Tam River on a little grassy spot in the shade of Hanging Limbs trees.

We are deep into my mother's people's tribal lands. It is a far cry from the sittings that Kiyatana favors. However, even here her beauty puts the red, gold and blue river bank flowers to shame.

And even here she appears comfortable and at ease.

"Teakwood it is a lovely and special place. Thank you for sharing it with me." Kiyatana bows as is her custom when giving a sincere complement.

I assist her in removing her backpack and she returns the favor. We lay out our picnic cloth and spread out our meal.

She turns to me with her expressive eyes and asks the question of the day, "Teakwood have you brought me here to make love or to end my life in misfortune?"

I answer truthfully, "I'm not sure. I haven't decided yet."

"Is it that I have not served you well? Is that the source of your displeasure?"

An orange and black bird glides over us and into the Hanging Limbs trees behind us.

"Yes."

"And may I know the cause of your disapproval?"

A long thin black snake slides down the river bank below us and into the River. It swims upstream.

"You exposed me and mine to unnecessary and unacceptable risk."

There is the slightest of hesitation in her response. "That is a grave offense deserving of an unfortunate outcome for any offender. If I knew the circumstances of my offense I would suffer my punishment in an even state of mind."

A bright blue fish leaps high out of the water and snaps up a large flying insect and drops back into the River with hardly a splash.

I look into her eyes and sense her determination to live, to not leave this world without a fight to the death. She is greedy for life.

Birds in the trees around us burst into high whistling song notes. Somewhere close by there is robust response in kind.

"In the Wasi negotiation, Phantom was not there to kill me or Ghost Man Chang. You were his target. Chang and I would have been collateral damage."

She is as cool as the breeze blowing off the Tam. She bows again. "I accept your claim as true and made in good faith. Do you know why I was targeted? I'm at your mercy here, Teakwood. I don't think you would mislead me in this matter."

I pour us an ice drink. I sip mine. "Kiyatana, drink, I will not poison you."

She is uncertain of that claim, but she sips her drink anyway.

I wait for the birds to repeat their call and response before I answer. "When you were a gift before you came to me you took sperm from a very powerful person and that donor had second thoughts and decided to prevent you from bearing his offspring."

It is to her credit that she gives no overt reaction to this news other than to bow to acknowledge my statement.

We sit. New birds start a new song. The grasses along the riverbank bend and sways to the breezes.

"But we live. Teakwood, we live."

I finish my ice drink and pour another.

"Phantom was given discretion on the kill. It was his final decision to evaluate you as a suitable parent. Your performance and beauty won him over."

"I have exposed you and yours, without reason, or cause, or intention, to an unnecessary and avoidable risk. These are capitol offenses. I accept this. Is there any accommodation I can make?"

A hawk screams somewhere above us and the birds go quiet.

I wave her question away. "Also, you offended me by hiding your true interest from me. I can't forgive two such grievous offenses."

She gathers her energy for the coming struggle and surveys her surroundings for suitable weapons.

I wave her off. "Stay your hand. There is more."

She makes an incompetent effort to relax.

"You, in my presence, advanced on my Exec with physical harm intended. That is an attack upon me. For these reasons you are dead to me."

A flock of orange and black birds burst from the threes behind us.

She has on her person a hidden weapon of some kind. Now is the time for her to use it.

"I will kill you, Teakwood. I have no choice. I must live."

I ignore her. I watch an ant cross our picnic cloth in search of food.

She reaches up the left sleeve of her shirt for a weapon.

"Even now you threaten me. There is no forgiveness for you from me, but, Insolence has asked me to spare you."

"Insolence? What... I... Insolence..."

The ant has found our bread.

"Kiyatana has recovered her voice.

"And, and will you grant her--"

No, not even for her… but Phantom implores me to spare you. He promises me a valuable service. In light of both of these requests, I will not kill you."

She is shaking with relief. She pulls out her dagger and flings into the river. She bows with her head to the ground. She sits up and addresses me. "The terms of my survival?"

"You are a servant to Insolence until such time as she releases you or brings you misfortune. Not a gift, a slave."

"I accept."

"You will birth Phantom a male child from his sperm within twenty-four Earth months."

A flight of orange and black birds flash over head and into the trees.

"I accept."

A black snake, maybe the same snake slides out of the river and up the bank.

"You will provide me a child with my sperm within twelve Earth months."

"It would be my privilege to--"

I wave her off. "I have no need to see you again ever. You will destroy my unused sperm." I trust you to find your way home."

I move off in the direction of the snake.

I hear the hawk again. I search the sky for her in vain.

THE END

Bio: Frederick K. Foote, Jr. was born in and resides in Sacramento, California.  You can find his work online at Specter Magazine, akashicbooks.com, Piker Press, and everydayfiction.com and in the print copy of the 2014 Sacramento City College Susurrus Literary Magazine.

E-mail: Frederick Foote

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