"FREE-31" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jerome Bigge - Warlady 9 - The Freedom Fighters Of Trelandar)Freedom Fighters of Trelandar A Tale of Adventure in the Second Dark Age Book Nine of the Warlady Series By Jerome B. Bigge Chapter Thirty One "It must be `hard' for you after everything," Lana said to me as I poured her some eggnog, Carl having added a little whis- key to it here which gave it a bit more "punch" than otherwise... It was a pleasant day, temperature not that "chilly"; a typical winter day here in Trelandar, just chill enough that you needed to wear a jacket or a heavy woolen tunic if you went outside now. There was snow in the mountains, visible there upon a clear day from the back door, from the kitchen windows when one looked out. The peaks of the Sierras white against the deep blue of the sky. "It's over with now," I answered back, my tone bitter here. My sister was dead, her ashes scattered, and Darlanis was living in her palace there in Trella already making plans for her inva- sion of Talon in the spring when the mountain passes would open. I did not envy those of Talon, knowing what "awaited" them here. On the other hand perhaps Queen Dala knew what to expect now too. She had the winter to prepare, to make ready for Darlanis' inva- sion in the spring. Force her to fight her way into Talon here. Darlanis too had her problems back in Sarn, the expense of this war having cost the people of that country much. Then there were the Montanas, a smaller tribe who served as a "buffer" between the Nevadas to the south and the Wyomings to the north. They'd been a endemic problem for several years now to the east of Sarn. "She didn't really `win'," Lana spoke then, looking at me as we sat there at the table. My husband reaching out for a cookie. I'm not that much of a "housewife", but I could do a few things, and such "domestic" chores helped take my mind off of things now. Off the memories now of what had been, of the hopes I'd once had. "Doesn't matter, she's `got' what she wanted," Carl replied. "Maybe you were `right' all along," Lana spoke to me then, sipping at the eggnog, Jerry playing with Mischief on the carpet. The little puppy "tugging" for all she was worth on an old sock. "The woman who invented the codes died six centuries ago," I answered, thinking of Lorraine Duval, of the pictures I'd seen of her in some of the old books. A tall stern featured brunette, a woman who had shared her dreams with another. A woman who in her way had also changed the entire course of history from what it no doubt would have been had neither her or Janet Rogers ever lived. Changing the course of history from "neo-socialism" under Hillary Rodham Clinton to "neo-fascism" under Janet Rogers instead here. "According to the writings of Janet Rogers Lorraine got the idea from the writings of another, a man called Robert Heinlein," Lana pointed out, obviously well educated here for a Warrioress. She was also the sort of a woman who had a very surprising depth. "And it was the fact that everyone could `vote' that spelled the doom of liberal society before the election of Janet Rogers," she continued on, obviously having read up too on the history here. "Dularn allows anyone who pays taxes to vote," I replied. "But only a Warrior or Warrioress can hold office," Carl ad- ded, well aware no doubt of the political makeup of that society. His first wife having been as I've noted here, from that island.* * We learned through experience that perhaps this was the "best" policy after all, especially after the "trouble" we had with Les Hawkins in 2570 and that agent of Princess Tara's here. (Sanda) "History shows the consequences of allowing true democracy," Lana added now. The United States of America had eventually gone bankrupt due to the fact here that the number of social parasites eventually increased to the point that no society could continue. At the end the number of people on "welfare" had reached propor- tions where the cost of maintaining them had eaten up most of the national budget, leaving very little for anything else here now. "No one with any sense believes that the common people should be allowed to have a say in affairs," the Imperial aristocrat said. Even in Dularn, which was as "democratic" as any society in this era, the majority of the people did not have a vote, I knew here. One had to be a property owner, pay taxes on it, to be a "voter". Own a business of some sort, produce a good or service here now. "Five centuries has `proven' us right," Carl smiled at me. "Democracy was a failure for the same reasons that `social- ism' was a failure," Lana commented. "The people of the past be- lieved that they could `vote' themselves all sorts of `benefits', none of which they would ever have to `pay for'..." The national bankruptcy of the United States of American in 2007 a historical fact that led to the ascension of Janet Rogers as their dictator. "`From each according to their abilities, to each according to their needs'," Carl smiled at me. That was the basic tenet to socialism, to the concept of "liberalism" itself once you carried it out all the way. "And why work hard if you cannot reap the benefits of your labors?" my husband grinned, enjoying this here. That had been the downfall of every socialist society there was, the ultimate "downfall" of the democratic liberal welfare state in the 21st Century, its "replacement" by the neo-fascist NEW OR- DER of Janet Rogers in 2011. A social order based upon the ideas of Lorraine Duval, who perhaps saw what few others ever saw here. ***************************************************************** "It seems `funny' now reading all this," I said to Jon as we sat together on the sofa reading the old manuscript I'd written back so many years ago for Lorraine. I'd been honest in what I'd put down on paper back then, even if some of it was embarrassing. "It must have been a `shock' to meet Lorraine there in '65," he smiled back, "Find out she wasn't what you thought she was..." The memories flooding back of that day, of the concerns I'd felt. I'd been afraid of her at first, fearing what she might be here. Sensing that this was a woman like few others, truly a Warrioress in the full sense of the word, a woman who had been born into the caste even if the caste itself had not even existed back then! I felt that Lorraine was hard as tempered steel, not a woman anyone might "cross" and live. The sort of a woman who leaves no living enemy behind her... A woman of LEGEND once again in the FLESH... "Did you know `what' she was?" I asked, recalling how they had first met there on the blood stained deck of the Ronda, a Ba- jan slaver when the pirate Tarkas had fallen for her "trap" here. "Not at first," Jon answered me, recalling old memories from fifty six years in the past. "She was `different', a woman who stood out from the others. Not beautiful, not even very feminine as such, but I remember looking into those deep dark eyes of hers back then and thinking to myself that she was like no other ever could be. That I wanted this woman, no other, for my wife then. She was a `comfort', the sort of a woman you could rely upon..." I nodded, remembering seeing them together, how he always seemed to be at peace with her, how he seemed to understand her "moods". "She was truly a `legend'," I answered, remembering her. A woman who had once fought a Lorr hand to hand, who had walked the sands of an alien world, who had lived in two separate eras of time, a woman who "saw" as few others did... That was Lorraine. "All the `legends' are `gone' now," Jon said. "Carol, Ame- thysta, Darlanis, and now Lorraine." Queen Maris was getting old and set in her ways, Sela was Queen of Talon now, and Sharon was Empress with Darlanis dead and Artemis now disappeared somewhere. Freydis had died in a hunting accident some years ago, and her husband was an ineffective King whose country was falling apart. "I remember Carol when she was dying from that `disease'," I answered, recalling those few weeks there so many years ago. I'd seen Lorraine weep when Tais had returned her to our time, Car- ol's death having effected her greatly. Yet, I also remember the brownette as she'd once been, standing there in the hot sands in the arena beside her husband. I'd always envied Bob that way, it being so obvious that Carol was utterly devoted to him and he to her. They were closer by far than I've ever been to my husbands. Lorraine having told me one time that she believed that not even death itself could ever destroy the relationship between the two. "Reminded me of Lara Warsan in a way when she was younger," Jon said to me. "Different sort of a sexuality to her, though." Darlanis had hated the woman, although for different reasons than Lorraine. In any case Carol was the sort of a woman few women would have "liked", perhaps because of her own innate sexuality. "Now they're all gone, living only in our memories," I said to him as we sat together. It had been an epic era, an "era" of brave deeds, of daring do, of battle on land and at sea, some I'd been witness to. I remembered the attack by the North Star when I'd been aboard my little yacht... The ballistae bolts tearing their way through my hull. The hopeless attempt I'd made to flee a woman who'd I'd wronged. The golden haired beauty who I'd once informed as she knelt before me that Lorraine had picked her out to be her own intimate slave, that her mistress was a lesbian... So terrifying the young Dularnian that she'd stolen a small sail- boat from the estate and then sailed it all the way up to Dularn. All because I hated the young slave girl for being "blonde", for being beautiful, for being everything that I could not "be" then to Carl. She'd only been a slave girl, but I'd so wanted to hurt her. To make her suffer, all because Carl had seen her as being an attractive woman, an intelligent woman with whom he might dis- cuss matters, while I'd grown hard and bitter over the years now. Freedom Fighters of Trelandar A Tale of Adventure in the Second Dark Age Book Nine of the Warlady Series By Jerome B. Bigge Chapter Thirty One "It must be `hard' for you after everything," Lana said to me as I poured her some eggnog, Carl having added a little whis- key to it here which gave it a bit more "punch" than otherwise... It was a pleasant day, temperature not that "chilly"; a typical winter day here in Trelandar, just chill enough that you needed to wear a jacket or a heavy woolen tunic if you went outside now. There was snow in the mountains, visible there upon a clear day from the back door, from the kitchen windows when one looked out. The peaks of the Sierras white against the deep blue of the sky. "It's over with now," I answered back, my tone bitter here. My sister was dead, her ashes scattered, and Darlanis was living in her palace there in Trella already making plans for her inva- sion of Talon in the spring when the mountain passes would open. I did not envy those of Talon, knowing what "awaited" them here. On the other hand perhaps Queen Dala knew what to expect now too. She had the winter to prepare, to make ready for Darlanis' inva- sion in the spring. Force her to fight her way into Talon here. Darlanis too had her problems back in Sarn, the expense of this war having cost the people of that country much. Then there were the Montanas, a smaller tribe who served as a "buffer" between the Nevadas to the south and the Wyomings to the north. They'd been a endemic problem for several years now to the east of Sarn. "She didn't really `win'," Lana spoke then, looking at me as we sat there at the table. My husband reaching out for a cookie. I'm not that much of a "housewife", but I could do a few things, and such "domestic" chores helped take my mind off of things now. Off the memories now of what had been, of the hopes I'd once had. "Doesn't matter, she's `got' what she wanted," Carl replied. "Maybe you were `right' all along," Lana spoke to me then, sipping at the eggnog, Jerry playing with Mischief on the carpet. The little puppy "tugging" for all she was worth on an old sock. "The woman who invented the codes died six centuries ago," I answered, thinking of Lorraine Duval, of the pictures I'd seen of her in some of the old books. A tall stern featured brunette, a woman who had shared her dreams with another. A woman who in her way had also changed the entire course of history from what it no doubt would have been had neither her or Janet Rogers ever lived. Changing the course of history from "neo-socialism" under Hillary Rodham Clinton to "neo-fascism" under Janet Rogers instead here. "According to the writings of Janet Rogers Lorraine got the idea from the writings of another, a man called Robert Heinlein," Lana pointed out, obviously well educated here for a Warrioress. She was also the sort of a woman who had a very surprising depth. "And it was the fact that everyone could `vote' that spelled the doom of liberal society before the election of Janet Rogers," she continued on, obviously having read up too on the history here. "Dularn allows anyone who pays taxes to vote," I replied. "But only a Warrior or Warrioress can hold office," Carl ad- ded, well aware no doubt of the political makeup of that society. His first wife having been as I've noted here, from that island.* * We learned through experience that perhaps this was the "best" policy after all, especially after the "trouble" we had with Les Hawkins in 2570 and that agent of Princess Tara's here. (Sanda) "History shows the consequences of allowing true democracy," Lana added now. The United States of America had eventually gone bankrupt due to the fact here that the number of social parasites eventually increased to the point that no society could continue. At the end the number of people on "welfare" had reached propor- tions where the cost of maintaining them had eaten up most of the national budget, leaving very little for anything else here now. "No one with any sense believes that the common people should be allowed to have a say in affairs," the Imperial aristocrat said. Even in Dularn, which was as "democratic" as any society in this era, the majority of the people did not have a vote, I knew here. One had to be a property owner, pay taxes on it, to be a "voter". Own a business of some sort, produce a good or service here now. "Five centuries has `proven' us right," Carl smiled at me. "Democracy was a failure for the same reasons that `social- ism' was a failure," Lana commented. "The people of the past be- lieved that they could `vote' themselves all sorts of `benefits', none of which they would ever have to `pay for'..." The national bankruptcy of the United States of American in 2007 a historical fact that led to the ascension of Janet Rogers as their dictator. "`From each according to their abilities, to each according to their needs'," Carl smiled at me. That was the basic tenet to socialism, to the concept of "liberalism" itself once you carried it out all the way. "And why work hard if you cannot reap the benefits of your labors?" my husband grinned, enjoying this here. That had been the downfall of every socialist society there was, the ultimate "downfall" of the democratic liberal welfare state in the 21st Century, its "replacement" by the neo-fascist NEW OR- DER of Janet Rogers in 2011. A social order based upon the ideas of Lorraine Duval, who perhaps saw what few others ever saw here. ***************************************************************** "It seems `funny' now reading all this," I said to Jon as we sat together on the sofa reading the old manuscript I'd written back so many years ago for Lorraine. I'd been honest in what I'd put down on paper back then, even if some of it was embarrassing. "It must have been a `shock' to meet Lorraine there in '65," he smiled back, "Find out she wasn't what you thought she was..." The memories flooding back of that day, of the concerns I'd felt. I'd been afraid of her at first, fearing what she might be here. Sensing that this was a woman like few others, truly a Warrioress in the full sense of the word, a woman who had been born into the caste even if the caste itself had not even existed back then! I felt that Lorraine was hard as tempered steel, not a woman anyone might "cross" and live. The sort of a woman who leaves no living enemy behind her... A woman of LEGEND once again in the FLESH... "Did you know `what' she was?" I asked, recalling how they had first met there on the blood stained deck of the Ronda, a Ba- jan slaver when the pirate Tarkas had fallen for her "trap" here. "Not at first," Jon answered me, recalling old memories from fifty six years in the past. "She was `different', a woman who stood out from the others. Not beautiful, not even very feminine as such, but I remember looking into those deep dark eyes of hers back then and thinking to myself that she was like no other ever could be. That I wanted this woman, no other, for my wife then. She was a `comfort', the sort of a woman you could rely upon..." I nodded, remembering seeing them together, how he always seemed to be at peace with her, how he seemed to understand her "moods". "She was truly a `legend'," I answered, remembering her. A woman who had once fought a Lorr hand to hand, who had walked the sands of an alien world, who had lived in two separate eras of time, a woman who "saw" as few others did... That was Lorraine. "All the `legends' are `gone' now," Jon said. "Carol, Ame- thysta, Darlanis, and now Lorraine." Queen Maris was getting old and set in her ways, Sela was Queen of Talon now, and Sharon was Empress with Darlanis dead and Artemis now disappeared somewhere. Freydis had died in a hunting accident some years ago, and her husband was an ineffective King whose country was falling apart. "I remember Carol when she was dying from that `disease'," I answered, recalling those few weeks there so many years ago. I'd seen Lorraine weep when Tais had returned her to our time, Car- ol's death having effected her greatly. Yet, I also remember the brownette as she'd once been, standing there in the hot sands in the arena beside her husband. I'd always envied Bob that way, it being so obvious that Carol was utterly devoted to him and he to her. They were closer by far than I've ever been to my husbands. Lorraine having told me one time that she believed that not even death itself could ever destroy the relationship between the two. "Reminded me of Lara Warsan in a way when she was younger," Jon said to me. "Different sort of a sexuality to her, though." Darlanis had hated the woman, although for different reasons than Lorraine. In any case Carol was the sort of a woman few women would have "liked", perhaps because of her own innate sexuality. "Now they're all gone, living only in our memories," I said to him as we sat together. It had been an epic era, an "era" of brave deeds, of daring do, of battle on land and at sea, some I'd been witness to. I remembered the attack by the North Star when I'd been aboard my little yacht... The ballistae bolts tearing their way through my hull. The hopeless attempt I'd made to flee a woman who'd I'd wronged. The golden haired beauty who I'd once informed as she knelt before me that Lorraine had picked her out to be her own intimate slave, that her mistress was a lesbian... So terrifying the young Dularnian that she'd stolen a small sail- boat from the estate and then sailed it all the way up to Dularn. All because I hated the young slave girl for being "blonde", for being beautiful, for being everything that I could not "be" then to Carl. She'd only been a slave girl, but I'd so wanted to hurt her. To make her suffer, all because Carl had seen her as being an attractive woman, an intelligent woman with whom he might dis- cuss matters, while I'd grown hard and bitter over the years now. |
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