This work is copyright 2000-2004 by Xaltatun of Acheron (A Pseudonym). It may be posted on the Internet to any free forum, provided it is not modified in any way, and provided that this notice is included in its entirety. It may not be sold, or included in any compilation that is sold, or posted on any forum that requires a fee for access, without my written permission. My permission will require payment, terms to be negotiated. For purposes of this notice, sites guarded by Adult Check or similar packages are considered pay sites. Posting on any site must include this copyright notice.
Adult Content Warning - this story contains adult themes, including non-consensual bondage/slavery and forced sexual acts. If you are under the lawful age for such materials (18 in most jurisdictions) or if you would find such material offensive, please go elsewhere.
Safety Warning. This story may contain descriptions of practices that are decidedly unsafe, either in general, or if performed by someone without adequate training. There are a number of good books available on safety in the BDSM scene. Most large cities, and some not so large ones, have organized BDSM groups that will usually welcome a newcomer. I'm not going to point out which practices are safe, and which aren't. Any practice is unsafe if performed by someone with inadequate training and experience, or if performed when not paying attention. Please think before you act. Don't make yourself a candidate for a Darwin award.
Story codes: (MF, FF, pony, SF, little sex)
There are currently eight stories in the Freehold series:
1. A Slave Girl of Freehold
2. A Ponygirl of Freehold
3. The Field Ecologist's Ponygirl (sequel to A Ponygirl of Freehold)
4. Delivery Ponyboy
5. Carriage Team of Freehold
6. Escaped Ponygirl
7. Pyramid Scheme
8. Gor meets Amazonia
Stories 2 and 3: Ponygirl and Field Ecologist form one story and should be read in that order. Story one leads into story 4, although there isn't any real continuity of plot.
Carriage Team of Freehold, Escaped Ponygirl, Pyramid Scheme and Gor Meets Amazonia form a sequence, to some extent based on events at the end of Delivery Ponyboy. You do not need to read them in sequence, but it may help fill in gaps.
Some additional background on Freehold, in particular, how it happened, is in the story "The Curtain Falls, The Curtain Rises," the end of the Ponygirl Transformation series.
The name Freehold has no relationship to any other use of the term by any other author. No connection should be assumed, either derivative or as a base for parody.
OK - now on to the story -------
Chapter 1. It happened this way: Twenty Years previously.
Chapter 2. The Princess Arrives.
Chapter 5. Shopping Expedition.
Chapter 7. Enclave Control Committee Meeting Number 497.
Chapter 9. Unexpected efficiency causes a slight problem
Chapter 12. Bureaucratic Flashback.
Chapter 13. Back at the stables.
Chapter 16. Enclave Control Committee Meeting Number 499.
Chapter 18. I Meet the Dodecahedron. We both survive.
Chapter 21. Terri is a What???
Chapter 22. Introduction to the Dodecahedron.
Chapter 23. Interview with a ponyboy.
Chapter 24. Sojourn in Fantasyland.
Chapter 25. Conversation with the God’s Own Winemaker
Chapter 27. Taking Care of Terri.
Chapter 29. Human Rights Conference.
Chapter 31. Bonnie out-clevers herself.
Chapter 32. Back at Master Skodarian’s.
Chapter 33. Another Mob Scene.
Chapter 34. Executive Reorganization.
In the first episode of Gor Meets Amazonia, we did a bit of a flashback about how Princess (then Duchess) Annabelle introduced herself to the Gorean Enclave with a show of swordsmanship that would baffle anyone who knows swordsmanship. All will eventually be revealed. Various other things moved along; Sherry has decided to immigrate to Freehold, and has discovered a few problems in her way, like she’s illiterate. Annabelle wants to turn me into the living representative of the gods, as the gods own ponygirl. I must say I was intrigued by the idea.
In the second episode we had the obligatory ponygirl race. I won the first two heats, and one of the twins won the third. Princess Annabelle decided we needed more staff, so she wanted a small shopping expedition.
The Princess decided to use the cart we’d used for our pyramid expedition. It wasn’t her first choice, but she needed something to bring purchases back, and while the chariots could be used to bring a slave or two back, she wanted to be able to talk to me. So we put Fast Fox on point again, with the twins on either side. We debated adding a pair of the ‘girls from her carriage to the team, but a quick trial showed that wasn’t a real good idea. No matter how well the label ‘dumb blonde’ fit the twins, they were a lot more adaptable than those four.
This time, she rode up on the bench, and Bonnie and I stood in the well in front of her. She handed me the reins. When I looked at her a bit strangely, she unbent enough to explain.
“There are two reasons. One is as the god’s own ponygirl you need to be as good a driver as everything else. So we practice. The other reason is that I want Bonnie free to explain what we’re seeing as we go past, and I don’t want her distracted by having to handle the team.”
I picked up the reins with some trepidation, and sorted them. This time Frank had put blinders and checkreins on the twins, and left Fox to his own devices. I had to admit I preferred that arrangement, and maybe they’d learn something. Fox, for his part, stood there, back rigid and tail straight. The twins, on the other hand, looked like they were trying not to giggle at his discomfiture about my driving him.
I walked out front and looked him in the eye, and then I reached up and ruffled his mane. He stamped a foot angrily, and then relaxed as I dug into his neck. I decided to give him a sweet first, so I took his bit out and held it up on my palm. He shook his head, and then swept it off into his mouth with his tongue. When I held the bit in front of his face, he opened right up like a good ponyboy. I reinstalled it, and scratched him behind the ears.
I heard something suspiciously like a catcall from the direction of one of the twins. I flipped my tail at her, and walked back to the wagon.
I picked up the reins again, and shook them out to get the team started. Fox brought his tail up and down twice, and then all three started off on a high step! Either someone must have gotten to them, or they’d been talking it over.
Now that I thought about it, I suspected the latter. The twin’s attitude had come around since I’d known them. They were natural exhibitionists, looking good was something they’d most likely put some effort into.
I pulled on the left rein, and he swerved toward the gate, the other two following his lead.
Bonnie said, “right” just as we got to the gate, so I gave Fox the signal, and he turned the team down the road toward the pyramid.
Bonnie pointed out the barges floating down the river on our side, each with a bargeman and pole to keep it straight. Some of them had blocks of sandstone for the pyramid, but many of them had other cargos. On the other side, teams of oxen labored to pull the barges back upriver.
“Has anyone ever tried to work out a better system?” the Princess asked.
“Not that I’ve heard of,” Bonnie said. “Is there one? I’d think they’d want to keep it low tech, but that doesn’t seem to be as important as it used to be.”
“The angle they’re pulling it at can’t be efficient,” Annabelle noted. “Some pulley arrangement might be better, but then…” her voice dropped as she thought it over.
“That’s for later, if and when,” she said, decisively.
We went around a number of people with donkeys, and a few ox drawn carts. Eventually, we got to a town. Bonnie directed us down several rutted streets. I found out quickly that Fox couldn’t negotiate the corners unaided. That puzzled me; I knew he’d been trained on taxi, which was quite unusual for a ponyboy, so I asked the Princess.
“That is odd,” she replied. “It might be that this is a lot bigger than either a taxi or a delivery cart. I believe the freight ponies always need a drover.”
I nodded. I was getting the hang of maneuvering the team out and swinging wide around the corners.
“Here we are,” said Bonnie, a bit redundantly. We’d gotten clear of buildings and emerged into a large square that was dominated by an open stage on one end.
“We park the carriage over there,” she pointed to where a number of carriages and teams were sitting. A boy ran up and tried to grab Fox’s bridle. Bonnie yelled something at him, and he backed off, and then walked in front of us, guiding us into one of the spaces.
He held out his hand, and Bonnie flipped him a coin, which he snatched out of the air. The last I saw of him, he ran off to snag another carriage and collect a tip.
“Is leaving them here very safe?” I asked.
“It is if we pay off the guard,” she laughed. The guard wasn’t at all tardy in arriving, either. Bonnie and the guard waved their arms and yelled at each other for a few minutes, and then she handed over some more coins. Whatever they’d been doing to my brain to let me learn the language fast seemed to be working; I picked up snatches of the conversation, including words that had sounds I knew I would never have been able to tell apart before.
The merchandise was arranged by category, which seemed more efficient than I’d have expected. There were around a dozen field workers, each chained by an ankle to a long bar, and with their hands shackled behind their backs. Prospective purchasers where poking and prodding them, checking their musculature and their teeth. The merchandise didn’t look at all happy about it.
We walked around that section; our problem was too many of them, not too few. The next section was assorted herders, grooms and similar animal tenders. There were half a dozen males and females lined up, with hawkers extolling their virtues. I could make out enough to know that buying one of these underpriced paragons would insure that your oxen would pull twice as much as anyone else’s, and they’d last twice as long.
“The question is,” I muttered, “ponygirls aren’t oxen. Even the twins are better than that.”
“A lot better,” Annabelle agreed. “Have any of these ever dealt with horses? Well, let’s ask a few questions.”
We waded into the throng. The Princess just went down the line asking each of them for their experience. After a few minutes I caught on to what she was doing. She had something that let her know if the person was telling the truth, or shading it. She never let on, just making her way down the line. We learned in passing that it wasn’t at all uncommon for field slaves to double as bearers. By the time she got to the end, I’d marked three that looked like they would be worth bidding on. I wondered how close my picks matched hers.
The next one was household workers, which we skipped. After that was a half dozen professionals. There were several scribes and two farm supervisors. She frowned at the scribes for a moment, and then clearly shelved the idea. However, she spent a considerable time on the two farm workers, determining which crops they had worked and how many crew members they had supervised. Finally, she was done.
The last category was courtesans. Well, I suppose you could excuse the marketing hype. They all looked like they could keep a man’s bed adequately warm. “Sheath your claws, kitty,” I reminded myself.
We made our way around toward the front of the stage and waited, shrugging off the swarm of small boys and touts of various types. I decided to while away the boredom by practicing my knife throwing with a nearby tree. For some reason, a lot of the touts suddenly vanished, although the small boys seemed to be attracted like a magnet.
Someone cleared his throat noisily behind me. I spun around to look at one of the locals that seemed to be dressed substantially better than the rest. At least, he had on a clean skirt that was elaborately decorated, and an odd looking shirt.
“Are those your ponygirls over there?” he asked, hesitating a bit over the word “ponygirl.” It clearly wasn’t his language.
“They belong to my mistress,” I replied slowly, balancing my knife by the blade.
“I’ve only heard about them before. I’ve heard tales of people with tails, but I’d never believed any of them. Absurd!”
“Very sensible, sir.” A little butter never hurts. “The sorcerers of Freehold created them; they only loaned them to us.” I hoped I was getting across.
“Is there any way I could buy them?” he asked hopefully. “Those two blondes would make a stunning addition to my harem.”
I noticed the Princess listening to our conversation without seeming to eavesdrop. Now she turned in our direction.
“That set isn’t for sale; the owners would be most upset if anything happened to them. But we might be able to find some that are for sale.” I covered my startlement by putting my knife back in its sheath. When I looked up, I had a poker face.
They talked back and forth for a few minutes, the Princess subtly pumping him for sales prospects for ponygirls. He got more enthusiastic by the minute as she told him what the wondrous beasts could do.
A loud gong interrupted the conversation. The crowd shifted around; the bidding was about to begin. The Princess and the gentleman hurriedly introduced themselves to each other; I think I caught an invitation from him for a dinner.
Then the auction began. They started out with a couple of the field slaves just to warm up the audience, and then added one of the courtesans. The bidding was strong, but nobody seemed to be real excited, or inclined to bid excessively. The merchandise seemed to catch the mood; it looked universally bored.
The tenth lot was one of the stable hands. Bonnie entered the bidding right away. She got him for what seemed to be a good price. The auction went on for a while, until one of the farmers came up. Bonnie got him on the first bid. We started to move around the stage to pick up our merchandise when they brought up another of the courtesans. This time the Princess looked at her, and signaled Bonnie to bid. For a change, the bidding was spirited; Bonnie got her for about twice what any of the other courtesans had gone for.
What the Princess had in mind puzzled me. I hadn’t spotted anything special about that one, and we hadn’t checked them over, either. I shrugged as we made our way through the crowd toward the pens.
The scribe at the table took Bonnie’s bidder’s token, and located the tags for our three purchases. Bonnie paid over the coins, and they set to work on the paperwork while the Princess and I watched, curious about how the mechanics worked.
Eventually, the scribe stamped the back of the tickets, and handed us three sets of keys. We made our way to the side of the stage where they had the purchased slaves lined up. Whoever organized this seemed to be efficient; our three were already grouped together, chained in a coffle, neck to neck and right ankle to right ankle. Bonnie handed over the chits to the guard with a coin as baksheesh. He looked at them and nodded. She clipped a leash to the courtesan’s collar and tugged. They followed right along, legs moving in unison. It reminded me of my trip from the Ministry of Justice to the training stable, but these seemed to have practice. There was no tripping or stumbling.
We made our way back to the carriage. Our three ponies were still there, unmolested, which was good. What I hadn’t expected was that the guard had five firm offers for them, and three enquiries about how to create and train them. The Princess didn’t laugh; she had Bonnie take down all of the names, and pay the guard for his efforts in our behalf. The Fox, at least, began to look a bit apprehensive as Bonnie took the names down. I decided to be magnanimous today, and gave him a wink. He relaxed for a moment until I shrugged. Then he snorted around his bit.
We packed our purchases in under the seat, where they had a magnificent view out the back. I let one of the boys lead us out of the pack until we were on the road. Bonnie, as usual, flipped him a coin as he left.
“Princess, what are we going to do with Yisbet?” That was the courtesan’s name.
“She’s for me,” the Princess replied. “According to the barker, she’s bisexual, and I may be losing Sherry.”
I nodded in comprehension. Hermaphrodites had to have an interesting sex life. Bonnie frowned at the exchange; I remembered that she didn’t know about the Princess’ sexual peculiarity, and I wasn’t going to enlighten her. If she decided to move to the Gorean Enclave, she’d find out, and if not, it was none of her business.
“Is taking her to Gor allowed?” I asked curiously.
“I’ll have to give her a choice,” the Princess replied. “She won’t have the same problems that Bonnie would have, though.”
I nodded. One more ball to juggle.
I pulled the wagon up next to the path, and leaped out. The Princess stepped out and shook her head as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just done.
“Send Yisbet to me as soon as you’ve got things settled,” she said, and then turned to walk up the path. Bonnie and I walked around back and unhitched the three slaves. They got out and stood waiting, eyes cast down.
“Look at me,” I commanded as Bonnie walked behind them unlocking the chains that hooked the little coffle together.
They looked up, and then their eyes widened as they took in my tail and hairstyle. “I’m Running Flame, and I run this household for the Princess Annabelle and Prince Andy. They are the ambassadors from Freehold.”
The two men looked blank, but Yisbet straightened and drew in her breath in surprise and dawning comprehension. I marked her reaction.
“Bonnie,” I nodded, “runs the housekeeping under my supervision. Frank,” I pointed to him as he walked by leading Fast Fox by the halter, “is the head groom.” I signaled him to stop for a moment. “Tom,” I spoke directly to the younger of the two males, “you’re a groom. He’ll show you what to do. We’ve got four ponygirls and three ponyboys; treat them like the most priceless animals you’ve ever seen, and you’ll get along fine.”
“Abner,” I addressed the other male, “this place has been abandoned for half a year. There’s a lot of work to be done getting it working again. You’ll have a crew of four workers as soon as they get here. Right now, they should be hauling Prince Andy’s panequin.”
He nodded; he’d been looking at the trees and bushes around the courtyard, and rather obviously not liking what he saw.
“Yisbet, Abner, come with me.” I gestured to them and began walking up the path. I looked back and saw Tom working on unhitching the blondes from the wagon. Yisbet and Abner were right behind me, looking at the scenery.
A few minutes later, Bonnie had put together a light lunch for us. As usual, Sherry took a tray up to the Princess. Yisbet looked at her curiously.
“She’s from the Gorean Enclave?” she asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “That striped tunic is kind of distinctive, but how did you know what it means?”
“One of my former masters owns a fishing fleet. We fish right alongside of them; he took me to Port Kar a few times.” She shuddered. “I couldn’t understand their language.”
“Otherwise, how did you like it?” I asked.
“Their dancing girls are good,” she said. “I learned some very good moves from them. But they’re so thoroughly disciplined.”
“Um?”
“I suppose I could get used to it. A slave’s life is never easy.
“I’m to serve the Prince and Princess?” she continued.
“The Princess, at least. I don’t know if she’ll share you with the Prince, although your papers say you belong to him.”
She made a face at that. I gathered she wasn’t really hot on lesbian sex.
“I think you’ll find the Princess more to your taste than you think,” I said cryptically. “What do you do besides sex?”
She turned out to have many talents; standard and erotic massage and erotic dance only tapped the surface. She also claimed to be adept at household tasks, as well as running a household. “Although,” she added diplomatically, “I’ve only had to do it for one master.” I nodded as if it was unimportant and filed the fact away for future reference.
I told Bonnie to take her upstairs to the Princess and turned to look at Abner.
He was sitting back with a very satisfied look on his face.
“Your cook is excellent.”
“Bonnie is quite a good cook,” I agreed. “I don’t know what the eating arrangements normally are around here. I tend to be rather informal.”
“Normally slaves don’t eat with their masters,” he said.
I shrugged. “This is a very mixed household. Frank and Bonnie and I are outsiders that got caught up in the stew. So is the lead ponyboy, Fast Fox. The Prince and Princess are Freeholders, as well as two of the ponygirls. Sherry and the other ponies are from the Gorean Enclave; the Princess spends much of her time there.”
“Gor is another country with very different customs,” he said slowly. “I’ve heard about it from fishermen. Freehold? Is that where the sorcerers live?”
I snorted. “In a sense. A sufficiently high technology is indistinguishable from magic.”
“Like your tail?”
“Like my tail,” I agreed. “It’s part of me, but I didn’t grow up with it.
“Now,” I said, “I’m not expecting the Prince for a couple more hours, so I want you to take a look around the place. I need to know what needs to be done and how long it’ll take to do it.”
He looked like he expected some more instructions. Finally, he said: “What if I try to escape?”
I threw back my head and laughed. He didn’t look amused.
“Look at it this way. First, where would you go? This enclave isn’t that big, and we are from Freehold, after all. We have ways of tracking you down wherever you are. Second, the Princess wouldn’t have had Bonnie bid on you if she thought you would cause problems. If you really want me to make threats, drop by the pump house and look at the ponies.”
“I saw them. I’ve never seen animals like that. What are they?”
“People. People who’ve been modified by sorcery to have a tail and a mane. They’re also stronger and have more stamina. They’re slaves whose job is to pull things.
“You can use them if you need a team for anything. The two blondes with manes have been trained on farm equipment; I don’t know about the four with hooves.”
“Very strange,” he said. “I’d better be finding out where everything is.” He paused. “You have a scribe?”
“Bonnie,” I said. “If it’s reports and inventories, we’ll work something else out.”
I nodded and he left.
I dithered a moment about whether to see if the Princess wanted me, or go check on how Frank was doing with his new assistant. I decided in favor of Frank, partly because they hadn’t been served lunch yet. I put together a tray and walked it out to the stables. On the way, I noticed that all six spokes of the capstan were filled; only one of the blondes was present, however.
When I got to the front, I found out why. She was harnessed to a chariot, her reins tied to a post.
I found them looking at the stables and discussing something.
“Hi, guys,” I introduced myself. “Lunch.”
“’Bout time,” Frank growled. “Oh, it’s you, Flame. Thought it was Bonnie for a moment.”
“What’s up with Rippling Stream?”
“I think you mean Sparkling Brook. There’s a slight difference in their nipple rings. No problem, I just decided to harness one of ours full time in case the Princess wants a taxi quickly.”
“That’s one solution. How’s Tom coming along?” I asked.
“Pretty good. He’s still having a bit of a problem with the fillies, though.” That was more than a bit of a problem; the bulge in his skirt didn’t need a blush to emphasize it.
“Has either of the blondes made a move on him?” I asked, curious.
“Both of them.”
“So, what’s the problem? As long as he can keep them satisfied.”
The Prince arrived a couple of hours later. I was back in the garden debriefing Abner when my communicator went off. I brushed the message button and heard “The Prince is here,” in Frank’s voice.
“Head for the courtyard,” I told Abner. “The bearers should be your workers.” He nodded and took off at a trot. I went through the kitchen at a more sedate pace to pick up Bonnie. By the time we got there, the Prince had dismounted, and his valet, Steel Rivers, was lifting baggage onto the curb.
The Prince is a rotund man, a little shorter than average, who projects an air of bemused innocence, sort of like a very large puppy. A very large puppy that you don’t want to get angry on any account whatever. I knew what he looked like, right enough. He’d used me quite a bit for taxi service in the Old South Plantations. He had a firm enough hand on the reins. He also had an incisive mind from what I’d seen of the occasional messages we’d exchanged.
Steel Rivers looks like a valet. In fact, he looks so much like a valet that any casting director would put him in that role without a second thought. Fast Fox knew him from before, however; he was a very good investigator and assassin, from the same nameless government bureau that had supplied the Fox for our final, disastrous mission. He was here for exactly the same reason we were: he’d tried to do something on Freehold, and they’d caught him at it.
Abner was looking at the workers, arms crossed. As I arrived, he nodded and held his hand out to Steel Rivers. Steel flipped him a key, and Abner got to work unchaining the bearers from the panequin.
“Pick up something and follow her,” Abner told them. The four of them got to work, hoisting luggage onto their shoulders. In a moment, Bonnie led the procession down the path toward the dwelling.
“Andy!” The Princess strode down the path and gathered him in her arms, bestowing a kiss on top of his bald head.
“Annabelle, really,” he said as she released him. “You’re looking good.”
“So are you,” she said. “This place has a real decadent Roman style bath. I sent Yisbet down there to prepare it.”
“Yisbet?” he asked. “I thought your maid was Sherry.”
“She still is, at least until she heads for Freehold City. She’s thinking about immigrating. Yisbet’s a courtesan I bought this morning; I think you’ll love her.”
“You’ve got me curious,” he said as they walked down the path together. “The one they loaned me where I was staying was quite good. But Sherry leaving puts you in a bit of a quandary.”
I saw her shrug as they walked out of earshot. Well, that put to rest my question about whether she intended to share Yisbet.
A moment later, the bearers came back at a trot for more of the luggage.
“Where do we put them?” I asked.
Frank laughed. “That stable is bigger than I originally thought. There’s a second row of stalls on the other side.”
The stack of luggage dwindled rapidly. I made my way back to the residence, satisfied that things were in good hands.
When I got to the bathing room, I found an orgy in progress. Andy had Yisbet squealing on the floor, while Sherry had her head buried between Annabelle’s legs, eliciting moans of passion. I almost decided not to stop when I noticed something very strange. Sherry seemed to have a cock and balls between her legs. A very erect cock, in fact. I stood there in some bemusement while the Princess gasped. Then Sherry raised her head, a look of animal passion on her face, and shifted position to where she could bury her shaft in the Princess’ pussy.
I withdrew, shaking my head. Well, it did make a weird kind of sense; the Hercules cult was for all kinds of sexual oddballs. However, really functional she-males were rare, and Sherry was absolutely perfect. I hadn’t seen a trace of masculinity in her behavior. Until just now, of course.
“What’s one of these meetings like?” I asked Sherry.
Sherry frowned thoughtfully. “For me, a number of people suddenly appear out of nothing, and Her Holiness talks to them. I usually can’t hear anything they say, although sometimes I’m included in a discussion. That’s scary! And they really aren’t there, either. I’ve accidentally walked right through one!
“My job is to keep her glass filled and get her something to eat if the meeting goes on for a long time. And they do go on.”
She shrugged slightly, her carefully tailored slave tunic emphasizing the swell of her breasts. “This time I presume I’m to do the same for Prince Andy, Steel Rivers and you.
“Besides which, the room acts strangely. Wherever they are, if I’m not careful, I can run into things in this room that I can’t see. It’s very strange.”
Must be some kind of VR system, I thought to myself. I could certainly see how that would be useful for meetings of the higher ups, but normally VR required lots of expensive equipment, although that presumably wouldn’t be an issue at this level of government.
“Just about time,” the Princess said as she walked into the room with Prince Andy. She took one of the reclining chairs in the center, and Andy took the other one. I looked at how they were arranged, and then sat primly on my heels on the other side of the Princess. Steel Rivers arrived a moment later and then sat cross-legged on the other side, next to the Prince.
Sherry certainly hit it on the head, I reflected as the lighting in the room suddenly changed, and the far wall faded out. There were now two other people seated there. As I looked at them, several more seated people snapped into view.
The strongly built man at the far end of the room cleared his throat. “The 497th meeting of the Enclave Control Committee will come to order. Does anyone have any issues with the minutes of the last meeting?”
Who’s that? I asked myself. A voice answered: “Prince Gregory.” Somehow, I knew that only I could hear that voice. My eyes widened. Prince Gregory was the head of Freehold.
“There being no changes, let’s move on. We’ve got two special attendees today. Count Doherty is representing Ecology; there are a number of ecological issues affecting the Gorean Enclave that need to be discussed.
“And Running Flame is to be considered as a possible agent in the Gorean Enclave. She may also have input into decisions we need to make about the Ancient Egypt enclave.”
Everyone nodded.
“Count?” He nodded at a thin man who sat on my left.
“Thank you, Prince.” The count proceeded to outline the situation with respect to the fisheries. Apparently a UN commission was trying to allocate fishing rights off of Freehold. There was an issue involving some migratory fish where fishing in Freehold waters was affecting other areas of the planet. Also, the Gorean Enclave was encroaching on fishing areas that rightfully belonged to Ancient Egypt.
“Why is that?” Prince Gregory asked the Princess.
“I think we’re getting a bit overpopulated,” she answered promptly. “Dealing with that needs to be on the priority list.” There were nods all around, including a vigorous one from the Count.
“Suggestions?”
“What,” the Count said carefully, “would be the possibility of extending our standard population control system to the Enclave?”
“Completely? Just about zero – we don’t have an examination system, and don’t want one there,” said the Princess.
“I think there’s the kernel of an idea there, though” a woman on the right side of the room said. The voice in my mind identified her as Princess Jeanette, and added that she was in charge of Foreign Affairs.
“Once a couple passes the tests, they’re eligible for the childbearing lottery. When they win, she goes to a clinic and we unblock her fertility. It seems like that’s the core of the issue.”
“So,” Princess Annabelle said thoughtfully, “we could substitute an offering at one of the temples for the mandatory parenting courses. The clinic visit isn’t really necessary.”
“It does keep up appearances,” Prince Andy put in.
“Which isn’t necessary in the Gorean Enclave,” Annabelle answered him. “In fact, it would be easier if it just happened.”
“Sherry?” the Prince asked.
“Um,” she said. “I think that’s right. You make an offering and the god responds. Or not. I think people would be a lot more comfortable if they didn’t have to deal with the priests.”
“So we’ve got the request, the granting of the request, and the biological manipulation to make it happen,” Prince Gregory summarized. “Prince Davis?”
A man on the left spoke up as the voice murmured “Infrastructure” into my mind. “That’s quite a bit of capacity we’d have to add to put them all onto the system,” he said.
“Well, we don’t need everything,” the Prince said. “Can you have an estimate by next meeting?”
“If you want, we can get right on it. I’ve got some available development staff. Who’s going to be the customer?”
“I’d like to assign Sandra,” Princess Jeanette spoke up. “It’s about time she learned about both Infrastructure and the Enclaves.”
“Do you really want to put her on the same project with Running Flame?” Prince Andy asked, a bit of trepidation in his voice.
“My attempt to assassinate her was strictly professional,” I interjected into the silence. “I’ve got nothing against her personally.”
“Sandra should be able to handle that kind of issue anyway,” Prince Gregory said. “Any other objections? No? Then we’ll authorize a population control project for the Gorean Enclave.”
“I’d like to add one of my staffers to the customer team,” a big bear of a man spoke up. The helpful voice identified him as Prince Boris, the head of Justice. “If this is going to be anything like I think, we can put in some international law enforcement on top of it.”
“I second that,” Princess Jeanette said. “I get a lot of flack from the international community about our laxness in enforcing international law in the enclaves.”
“In that case,” Prince Andy said, “I think we should extend it to Ancient Egypt.”
“I agree,” Prince Boris said. “But let’s defer that for later in the meeting.”
“What I’m hearing is that we want to extend sufficient monitoring for international law enforcement to all of the enclaves,” Prince Davis said. “And we want a population control system in the Gor/Amazonia Enclave.”
“I think that covers it,” said Princess Jeanette. There were nods all around.
“That being the case, let’s move on.” Prince Gregory said. “Now we’ve got this ponygirl thing in the Gorean Enclave.
“Running Flame, what’s your opinion on the way they’re being treated?”
Who, me? “Well, I think the hooves on the hind legs are OK, as long as they can be reversed cheaply. I’m not quite as happy with the hooves on the front legs, and suppressing their voices is right out with me. The pony ears look cute, but the horses’ tails look useless; I’d rather have mine, frankly.” I scratched my ear with my tail to make the point.
Princess Jeanette spoke up. “I have to agree about the voices. So far, the human rights groups haven’t complained, but I suspect that it’s because they don’t know. They’ve accepted our ponygirl program, but it’s very grudging acceptance, and the only thing that’s keeping them quiet is the advancement system, and the fact that it’s rigidly fair.”
“Why not set up the whole package?” Prince Davis said. “Dodecahedron passed it to us a while ago, and we’ve just let it run since it seems to be working and isn’t causing problems. Putting it on our system would be one less thing to go wrong when we aren’t looking. The differences are what? Hair, hooves, tail and ears?”
“I think that’s it,” said Princess Annabelle. There were nods all around.
“Before we move on,” I put in, “I’ve got a question on the ponies. I’ve been studying the ones that Princess Annabelle brought with her, and they seem rather different. The stable staff and all three of our ponies have noticed it as well, and it doesn’t look like just the lack of a voice. It looks like something missing.”
“In what way?” Princess Annabelle asked. “I’ll admit that I haven’t looked into them in detail.”
“Like they’re not thinking,” I answered. “They’re reacting like a horse with a lot more brains than the usual equine, but that still thinks and acts like an animal.”
“I suspect I know why,” Prince Davis said. “When we took it over, we did a minimal check on what we’d gotten. The Dodecahedron’s change system built some kind of a chip in their skull during the process. We didn’t look at it except to verify that it was what was keeping them from using their voices. I’ll put a staffer on it to see if it’s doing anything else.”
“Good,” Prince Gregory said. “Now, how do we announce the change in policy?”
“Noisily.” The Princess grinned. “I want to set up a major miracle. One of the gods comes to life, announces the change, and then Running Flame trots out of the mist as the god vanishes.”
“Isn’t that being a little heavy handed?” Prince Gregory asked.
“Sherry?” Princess Jeanette said.
I heard a gulp from behind me; then Sherry spoke up. “I think that’s right. Religiously, there are only three groups. Believers, people who think the priests are manipulating things, and people who think the wizards of Freehold are manipulating things. If you have one of the gods announce it, and then make a couple of very public examples later, everyone will accept it.”
“That’s what I thought,” Jeannette noted. “It is a different society, after all.”
“That should work,” Andy seconded. “It’s power based, after all. Show them the mailed fist, and they’ll fall in line.”
“What do you see your part as?” Prince Gregory asked me. Now it was my turn to gulp silently.
“More or less what I was doing before I got busted. Enforcer. I’m someplace fairly high up in one of the temple hierarchies, but I keep looking like a ponygirl for effect. What I don’t know is how I’ll maintain my authority, let alone be effective.”
“Simple enough to say; you’ll have miraculous powers at your beck and call.”
“Carefully restricted, I presume,” I said dryly.
“Of course,” Princess Jeannette responded with a chuckle in her voice.
“Does that wrap up the Gorean part of the agenda?” Prince Gregory asked. I saw nods all around.
“That being the case, let’s move on to the Ancient Egypt Enclave problems.”
“How do I do miracles?” I asked the Princess after the meeting wound down. It had surprised me that I hadn’t been excluded after we finished with the Gorean enclave.
“The same way I do,” she said, and then chuckled at my exasperated look.
“Seriously, you’ve already been given the ability.” She looked at me like she expected me to say something. That caused me to think. Oh!
“You mean that the voice that introduced the various Princes and Princesses is part of the package?”
“Exactly. There are two parts. One is a rather mysterious device that interfaces your brain into the computer net. The other part is facilities you can use with it.”
“That’s amazing. I know they’ve been promising computer to brain links for the last century!” I frowned. “There’s a rumor the Dodecahedron has it.”
“They do,” she said. “In fact, we share it with them, or rather, they share it with us. We use exactly the same system for interface. What happens after that is rather different, though.”
“I presume questions about how it works and what they do with it won’t be answered.”
“True. You don’t have a need to know. Eventually, you should be able to do anything that any of us can do. The difference is that you’ll need authorizations on a case by case basis for a lot of it.”
“And probably advanced training for some things,” I added.
“True, but those are for specialists. For starters, anything you can do with your communicator you can now do directly. You’ve got access to teleportation, telekinesis and remote viewing.”
I’m afraid I let my jaw sag at that list.
“On the other hand, it’s not quite that simple.”
Somehow, I didn’t think it would be.
“It takes quite a bit of practice for the brain integration to become seamless; even after two decades, there are still places where I’m a bit clumsy. In any case, there’s a series of courses on how to use it, and what you can do.”
I snorted. This was Freehold, right? Of course there were courses on it.
The next couple of weeks were hectic. The UN ecology delegate’s projected visit set most of the pressure: I had to be in place sufficiently before he showed up that I could protect him.
The only thing that seemed to be going to schedule was my transformation. By the end of the first week, my feet had transformed themselves into hooves, my hair was growing in rapidly, and my ears started to look like I had elvish ancestors somewhere. Also my eyes had shifted from emerald green to grass green; we’d settled on Dionysus and Pan as my divine sponsors, although I’d put my foot, well my hoof, down on reshaping myself into anything resembling a faun or satyr. I could do without the horns, thank you very much.
Well, things were slightly better than that. My connection to the system seemed to be going rather well. It took me a couple of days to get familiar enough with the new system to be comfortable using it. It sure beat using one of the terminals for convenience, and it was nowhere near as limited as the helmets.
I also found that I could look at anything in the villa. I found the way it worked a bit intriguing. I became aware of everything there in the same way I was normally aware of things around me: they were there, at the edge of my consciousness, but there wasn’t any detail unless I actively focused on them.
However, I couldn’t look anywhere else without asking. After a while, asking became fairly automatic, and I was usually allowed to look without any delay or undue questioning. But it was there; I could never quite forget that my new abilities were at the sufferance of someone else, and could be withdrawn just as quickly as they had been bestowed.
One thing that shook me a bit was when I found myself looking out of Bonnie’s eyes. I’d been idly wondering what she was looking at, and suddenly I found myself looking at a sack of grain in the storeroom. That was a definite “huh?” I did a bit of experimenting, and discovered that I could do it with Bonnie and Frank, and no one else, even though Tom, Abner and the ponies were arguably my subordinates. No argument about it, I was officially their supervisor.
After a couple of minutes, I thought I’d figured it out, so I checked with the advisor.
“I found I can look through their eyes. Is that because the distraint system is the same system?”
The brain interface is the same. Distraint uses a different subset of capabilities.
“So Princess Annabelle could look through my eyes?”
Only with your permission unless there is a security concern. In any case, it’s not that necessary; the remote viewing system is usually a better choice.
“And Tom, Abner and the ponies are not connected at all?”
That’s correct. There is no reason to monitor them that closely.
Something occurred to me. “Would the fast language program Sherry is doing be the same system?”
Yes. It’s much more restricted, though.
That was interesting. Also scary.
However, the place I put most of my attention was on weapons. Why weapons, you might ask?
Well, it was rather simple. The more I learned of the Gorean Enclave, the less I liked it. The background on the original seemed to specify a slave population of around 2%; however, the enthusiasts that had created the Enclave seemed to have a slave population of 50% or more in mind, with most of those being sex slaves or low level servants. Once they ran out of funds to import things, the situation evolved rather rapidly. Or I should say, devolved. It was now a semi-medieval agricultural society, with only three cities that deserved the name: Port Kar, Glorious Ar and Themiscrya. And of course, Temple Island, but that wasn’t a city as much as a state of mind. Everything else was villages and small towns. Very small towns.
The ponygirls had come in at the beginning; they were hardly canonical, but then nothing else was, either. Why Freehold wanted to maintain this mess was beyond me, but then I wasn’t being asked.
Getting back to weapons. As part of my orientation, I’d reviewed Princess, then Duchess, Annabelle’s arrival in Port Kar, and had my first good laugh in weeks. Even the worst liars I knew would be too embarrassed to tell about a sword that could cut through three wrists and two swordblades in one sweep!
So I had to ask how it was done.
A telekinetic cutter field was projected coincident with the blade.
“That sounds nasty.”
It is. The usual application of this technology is in manufacturing, where personnel have adequate safety training.
“So what can I use for weapons?”
Why do you want weapons, besides the knife you carry?
“The god’s messenger will undoubtedly have to deal with some armed resistance, at least until I get established, and then there will still be people with too high an opinion of their prowess. I’d prefer to make that kind of point memorable, without leaving too many bodies lying around. None by preference.”
That seems like a worthwhile objective. I’ll see what research can turn up.
“Thank you. I’d just as soon not give anyone the impression that I like creating more dead bodies.”
That would seem to be prudent.
Now that all the preparation is out of the way, it’s time to hit the Gorean and Amazonian enclave, and hit it hard. However, plans describe the way it didn’t happen. Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of Gor Meets Amazonia!
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