Chapter 22: Return to Gracie

Monday Afternoon

I was back in LA by 3:00 in the afternoon Monday - early rush hour and much earlier than I expected when I left.

Between the airport and the Fort I swapped out the Porsche for the C-1500 at the Casa, where I picked up a clean suit for the office - whenever I got there. Then I swapped for the S-10 at the Batcave. I missed my dear Vicky and the freedom from LAPD she gave me, but that was too risky to drive right now with that Mustang on the loose, looking for trouble. Especially because we were close to turning the tables, I could feel it.

I got to the Fort about 5 Monday afternoon.

It seems Gracie could not cope with being alone and had called my cousin Qwit from next door on the intercom. The problem is that Gracie took the wrong tone with Qwit from the start. Rather than deal with her Qwit had called over Zar, another of by indians, from her apartment near the Batcave. Then he was pleased to stop answering the intercom.

Gracie was lonely, but when Zar showed up Gracie claimed that she had fallen and hurt her ankle. I should mention that Zar is a strong woman, over 6 feet tall, with the muscles of a mountain climber. She is not into chatting or pampering anybody. Gracie was nude and bagged over the goggles, but Zar made it very clear that she was not overly impressed with her. Gracie picked up on the attitude. Americans think that “their” ideal of beauty is universal, but in fact that is not true. On our mountain children believe in a different concept of beauty, involving those attributes that help make a strong tribe. Zar really did not think that much of her, and asked about why I should care a bit about Gracie, much less go to “all this bother.” Zar said she knew I had been with better females. Zar never understood tact, her comments were so not what Gracie wanted to hear.

Gracie had never known a harsh command that brooked no reply, and was not pleased. But she knew her limits and stayed inside them. I thought it was a good lesson for Gracie if we were to be together in any way after her release.

When I arrived Qwit and Zar did want to talk to me about Marta’s Wednesday night party; home cooking of their favorite dishes, then pleasure at night, for them it was a HUGE deal. Apparently, using the wonder that is the cell phone network, the evening had grown from an intimate informal get-together to a formal party while I was not looking. I said that of course they could attend and stay at the Casa long as they liked. “Your cousin is looking forward to seeing you,” I said regarding Marta. I would drive Qwit and pick up Zar on the way to the Casa. Qwit was especially excited, Marta cooked wonderful meals, and she was sure to be very entertaining, especially to him, overnight.

The mountain tribe is a matriarchal society (except for the Chief, who must deal with outsiders) where women control their own bodies and are encouraged to have sex as they like, with who they like in the tribe. (A practice also borrowed from the Inca’s, much like their “teen folly” stage of growth.) However, breeding was only allowed with a husband selected by the parents in consultation with the tribal leaders for the purpose of improving the tribe; tribal women used herbs and specialized techniques so they were very much aware of their bodies and when they were fertile. I call it “breeding” because that is what it was, a serious, ongoing attempt to improve the tribe in the same way that mankind has improved various plants (like corn and wheat) and animals (like dogs and horses). These did not exist, in anything like their present form, 10,000 years ago; what nature gave us had to be developed into a useful productive form by mankind or we would have starved ages ago.

In a very real sense all members of the tribe are related, they call themselves “cousins.” All breedings are recorded in the tribes tapestry. Breeding with close blood relatives is not allowed. (“Close” is defined by going back four generations.) Sex without risk of conception is allowed and encouraged with anyone as long as it is mutually consensual. A couple is said to be married if they have pledged in a public ceremony that all sex, both recreational and breeding, will be with the same person or persons. (Yes, 2 and 3 husband marriages to one woman are allowed but are not common.)

Marta would be the oldest woman there, but she would be open to the other tribe members (men having older women is common) and perhaps others. Qwit and Marta had a special connection because he was from the same womb as, and looked like, Marta’s husband who died less than 2 months after their marriage. I was sure they would share a bed that night. But he might not be her first or only companion. After all, I was her favorite.