Chapter 16: A Mer Suggestion

The Hacienda

Friday July 11, lunchtime,

I had to sit and think for a minute and review. In the mere hours since the Caribou landed my life had gotten a lot more interesting. I met one ... or maybe one-and-a-half of my future wives. I learned the Chief was near death. I learned that my seed was bearing fruit from THREE women. Before the trip I would have set the chance for any of these statements below 50%. In fact, meeting my wife was to only one that was above 5%. That made this a very unlikely day.

Instead of bedding Resha and/or Kwool, who I had considered and briefly looked forward to, my immediate priorities involved the mothers-to-be, Gracie and Cynthia. Gracie needed to see my face before supper, preferably while enjoying my cock, that way she might think better of what she saw and I could get a better read on what she really thought. However, now that she knew about Belen and Cynthia her response might be more of the “slap in the face” variety. Well, I had to offer her that as well, just to be fair.

Cynthia and I needed a serious talk about her future. I am guessing, but something told me she would not go to college. She had become so “child bride” towards me, now I knew why. Clearly, she pictured me in her life some way that had her saying, “come to bed honey” many nights for the next 50 years.

I asked myself if I meant what I said the the Patron about Cynthia as a wife. Actually, the more I thought, the stronger I felt, assuming Cynthia was acceptable to the Colony. What would that take? At the least she would need to live here for a time before and after the baby arrived. Would she want to go through what it took? Or would she be happier in some other capacity? Suddenly her one-book fairy tale had second volume that started with some questions.

Along the way it also occurred to me that I needed to read my indian girls into some things, like my children and my concubine. Given the task I had set for them with the Chief, arranging a short talk quickly might be hard. I felt it really had to be face-to-face.

That was when Marta and Irene found me with something I needed, they brought me good food.

As she approached, Marta handed the plate she carried to Irene, we both needed our hands free when I greeted my mother. I kissed Marta as I always do when we meet, a passionate kiss on her lips and then on her nipples, which I casually exposed and took pleasure from like they were mine. She loved it and at the same time she handled my cock in my pants (she spared Irene of the exposure) enough to get a visible response. We were both happy to see each other. Then, as she held my cock she asked if I would kill her soon. It was a serious question she always asked, because she believed it would happen someday. She knew better than anyone what a monster I was inside. She would not believe if I told her “never” so I answered “not this week, we will both enjoy some good times. Maybe with each other.”

Irene had not experienced the two of us meeting before, she thought our little familial carnal/murder ritual was a brain twister in terms of family relations. She knew that customs on the mountain were different, but as mother/aunt and son we were well beyond what she imagined.

As I ate the fish tacos (the main ingredient had been swimming 6 hours ago) Marta explained that her plane had arrived around 12 hours before me, just before nightfall so there was no time to fly up the mountain. Instead she enjoyed the Patron’s bed and his very friendly attentions last night, and she returned the favor. There was also rest after her long flight but what they enjoyed together - at her insistence - was good for both of them. “Your grandfather still can please a woman,” Marta said in front of Irene.

Marta was aware of the news (pregnancies, her Father’s health, my girls, etc.) and was anxious to see her father.

I asked Irene to contact Kwool, requesting her take Marta back up the mountain, to join Pur, then to bring Mer to me for dinner at the Hacienda. Marta would not need my order to deal with Grisha as needed, Marta knew where there was a whip if Grisha stepped over the line, and would be a great blessing for her Father. In fact, Marta wanted to join both girls in watching over the chief overnight, and perhaps longer, to get to know them. That was fine with me.

The plan didn’t work, it took an unexpected twist right away.

I called my new teenager Mer. The two communities used small network of party-line phones, it allowed conversation but was not private. (Homes in the US - in the dark days before the Beatles - used to be on “party lines” where one connection served several houses with phones. Anyone who picked up any phone in the group could hear the conversation going on. Sort of like “Zoom” without pictures. We have come so far.)

On the phone Mer surprised me, she insisted on a change in my plan. Instead of standing up to me directly she was very clever ignoring words, using phrasing and switching things around to suggest and justify an alternate arrangement for travel. Since it was a open line she mixed languages, used partial sentences, and even used some Latin and Pig-latin to explain her ideas.

Basically, Mer wanted Marta to come up the mountain, but not with Kwool. She wanted Rigo to fly Marta up, in the Bell 47, with his medkit. That told me Marta should also bring some com units.

Having Mer make such a serious suggestion to me and Marta was significant, she was 16 and we had just met, but she was suggesting changes for me and my mother. She did it because I showed trust in them, I touched their knives and called them “soldiers.” It bolstered their confidence. My reaction would say much about how I trusted her and the ones who selected her for me. Trust was critical, because we were on the party line we could not discuss the reason, or what Mer expected to happen when Marta arrived.

Still, she made sense, and I had to trust her sometime. I agreed with Mer’s barely sketched plan.

I told Irene, she took care of the changes. She also went along, there was one possible job that suited her best. She grabbed her Dessert Eagle and her knives. It was into the lunch hour when she took off with Rigo, but that was part of Mer’s plan. At the tribe they landed at the more distant regular helipad. Kwool watched both helicopters while Rigo went with Marta and Irene. In the meantime I made some sat-phone calls to a hospital 75 miles away that had seen Grandfather before.

Grisha was eating lunch in her place when Rigo landed, so she didn’t notice the helicopter or who arrived. She would take a siesta after. It gave the women and Rigo time alone with Grandfather.

They entered silently as they expected the Chief to be sleeping. She knew the Chief loved to rest his hand on his daughter’s bare bottom so as a greeting Marta undressed completely in front of Rigo, Irene and the girls, then crawled into her father’s bed to put his hand on her flesh where he liked it. This woke him gently. He was extremely pleased to find his daughter’s naked body in his arms. The finger of his hand moved before he spoke. Reaching lower he parted her labials as she cuddled and made contented noises. He found she was moist, that was how he knew his loving daughter was with him again and he was not yet dead, for the dead know no moisture.

“I arrived last night just before dark,” Marta said. “Your friend kindly took me in and showed me his well-known hospitality.”

He replied. “So I can tell. I am sure that you made a great impression and have improved things between our peoples while you were there.”