Chapter 8

“The nanomites may have altered our entire viewpoint on motherhood, and made us just love being mothers, so that we will have no objection to more and more pregnancies, more and more children. I had already noticed my attitude towards motherhood becoming more favourable, and assumed it was just because I was pregnant, but it may be that they have boosted our hormones to make us want more kids. I am not sure if I like this possibility.”

“Which possibility, my darling? The possibility of being pregnant a number of times, or the possibility that you have lost control over your attitude towards having children?”

Sheila stared at John before saying, “Dammit, I don’t know the answer to that. It may be that we wait and see how things develop. They have already made childbirth much safer for us women, so having more children might not be much of a trial in future.”

Vickie was more definite in her opinion.

“I recall wanting one or two children only, as a number I reckoned I could cope with, but now I find myself anticipating having many more and not being much bothered by it, so I would go with it being my present attitudes being altered by the nanomites.”

“Much as I might want to agree with you girls, my own attitudes have also changed and my body simply wants to father more and more children in the years to come. Don’t regard it as me being the satyr or sex fiend; it is the nannites pushing for more children to extend our family line.”

“Is that why you brought Mabana’s wives here? So that Mabana’s children can become more children for our family?”

Vickie had been looking at John’s face and accused him, “Or are these two women pregnant with your babies, John?”

“They are, Vickie, but that was what Mabana wanted, as he was infertile and wanted to be seen as a shaman able to father children. Salla’s existing three kids were from her deceased first husband, and everyone knew that. I did the needful at the request of Mabana, but I also promised to look after his family if anything happened to him. He suddenly died, so I have to take on his entire family. The fact that the two expected babies are mine is unexpected to some extent; they were intended to be Mabana’s children in that tribe; nothing more.”

“Okay, I can see the rationale there; one shaman helping out another shaman. But they have ended up here, to add to our family. I take it you will marry these two women as well as look after them?”

“Only once they have delivered their babies. Numa and I have decided they should officially still be Mabana’s offspring until they are older and then we can admit me as their natural father, assuming they want me to be their father then.”

Vickie grunted, “The nanomites will make sure these kids know you as their father, John. I can see that coming.”

John switched subjects.

“Has Raka talked to you about rain capes, Vickie?”

“Yeah. She spoke with those of us who are from back home; those who have experience of capes of various kinds. Sizes vary enormously between shoulder capes for men or women, and bicycle capes that can cover a carry basket at the front or back of a bike. I didn’t mention motorbike covers as we won’t have motorbikes here, and automobile covers are another no-no.”

“Quite. You like the idea?”

“Yeah, it should be good for selling to other folk – sorry, I should say trading. When are we going to introduce money to the locals, John?”

“I introduced the concept by calling it tokens. It will take some time before we develop that into a sequence of values. Let’s try to get them over the one-value token, and work from that. How do we make a token that can’t be easily copied or forged?”

“Ah, that will be a problem, won’t it? The moment we introduce a currency, someone will want to forge it for their own benefit. Hmm ... it has to be something that takes some effort to make; that will deter most budding forgers. It also has to be easily identifiable. Most of the early coinage used the leader’s head on the coin, as I recall, but we don’t have metal for making coins yet. Can we make them from hard-baked clay, or is that too easily broken?”

John nodded to agree with her thoughts.

“It has to be something that we can produce in quantity, so if it was made from what would effectively be pottery, we would need an original to act as a stamp; a stamp that is finely carved with my head or Numa’s head as the mark of genuineness. One of our artists should be able to carve an image of me, as I will be seen as the top dog in the area.

We should also give the postulated clay coin a shape that we stick with – a square or a triangle would be at once recognised as a coin shape and not something natural. Talking about natural, we should select a special colour of clay, one not readily available, so that potential forgers would have trouble making a match; either that or add a dye that turns the clay an unusual colour when fired, such as blue or purple. The more variables we can include in the token design, the more difficult it will be to forge, and any forgeries will be easy to spot.”

Before Vickie could respond, he added, “Perhaps you should be the one to discuss these ideas with Raka. I don’t want to appear as if I have all the answers – for I don’t, as you know, my darling.”

He smiled at her as only an old boyfriend can do; where they know each other intimately.

“And that will give me a plus with Raka, I hope,” she suggested.

John shrugged, but mentioned, “I need my wives to get on well with each other. This should help you and Raka to bond, my love.”

Vickie went to glare at him, then subsided, saying, “Yes, my darling husband, along with Jean, Sheila, Numa and Noma, and the multitude of other local women you have married. It makes me wonder why I still love you, but I do, for my sins.”

“In part, it is the little machines we have inside us that are encouraging you all to accommodate each other, but I hope that your love for me is from our past lives.”

“I think it is, but ALL of your wives seem to be in love with you. That must be in part the activities of the nanomites, surely.”

John grudgingly accepted this premise.

“You may be right about that, Vickie. Whichever it is, I am pleased with the results. A fair number of them were almost or actual rescued women, including Chief Numa and her sister Noma, but the attitude that I found here, of women being subservient to men in all circumstances, is one that I have strived to change, and naturally the females concerned do appreciate this change in status.”

“Hmm ... it appears that way, but I hear that instead of being nice to women, you have fucked Agreya into submission to you. Is that not so?”

“In a way, yes, but in another way, no. The nannites made her demand sex when she intended it to just be a cuddle, and then they seem to have pushed her more and more to demand sex from me. I obliged, so she got plenty of my potent seed in her pussy. Here and now, that normally means getting pregnant, so after consulting Numa, I used that to get her to behave more sociably instead of her old arrogant self. A pregnant woman without a husband is seen here as of lesser status, despite my changes, so she has pressure on her to behave such that I would be willing to marry her. I increased that pressure by telling her I will not make that decision until after she has her baby. Was I so wrong, my love?”

Vickie looked him in the eyes and sighed, “No. Having seen what she was like when she first visited, I was not surprised when you rejected her as an offered diplomatic spouse, and took Kekona instead, to seal the peace pact. Getting her to make such a radical change from her haughty earlier behaviour is a massive improvement, so forcing her to have a baby before you decide on marriage to improve her status puts her in a position that she has to learn to change her ways over the next nine months; moons, they insist on calling them here.

So you are going to marry her eventually, to add her to your collection of wives. How the hell do you expect to satisfy them all?”

“The nannites solved that when they put me in a coma and altered my body. One of the changes they made was to have my testes produce a new batch of sperm much faster than before, so that I can inject several women per night with my seed, and it is probably even more potent than before, due to their alterations.”
Vickie had noticed her own reactions as they talked, and commented, “They also made your pheromones more sexy, John. I find myself wanting to fuck you here and now, which is astonishing as we are on public view.”

John grinned at her.

“Yes, I am sure you are right, for every female seems to want to be fucked as soon as possible when I chat to her. I am trying to restrict myself to my wives, and not cause problems with other men within the tribe.”

“Anyway, if you want to fuck, we need to get to bed, my furs. You game?”

“For a quickie, yes.”

“Anything, to get this urge out of my system.”

They trotted back inside to where Vickie normally slept when not with John, and spent some time fucking like bunnies. Once Vickie had hit a couple of orgasms she relaxed, and let John go.

She told him, “I’ll just lie here for a while, love. That was fun, and satisfying.”

John made his way back to the wide cave entrance, with a feeling that he had to be there for some reason. A bit later, another trader was announced by the perimeter guard. He came up the slope with a bemused look on his face.

Seeing John, he muttered, “That guard is a woman, dammit. How can it be allowed? Do you know that, Chief?”

“Of course I know that she is one of our warriors, so what else is new?”

“Warrior? A woman? Never heard of that before.”

John sighed, “You must be new to this area, trader. Who are you?”

“Oh, yes.” He recalled his obligations yo introduce himself. “I am Trader Jano. I am from far, far to the north. I met a trader who said he was a distributor for some of your trade goods, so as I was coming in this direction, I thought I would check out the facts, and see if I could get my own slice of the bread.”

John looked him over, and declared. “You are a bit too cocky, Trader Jano. If you want to trade in our goods you had better present yourself as a trader of experience. How long have you been in this occupation?”

Jano said proudly, “I started last year, and have been trading with a handful of tribes back there to the north. The last chief suggested I try down this way, as it would benefit me in a number of ways, but he didn’t say how. He seemed to know something special about the tribes down this way.”

John laughed at this statement.

“I think I know what he meant, trader. He pointed you in this direction as he thought you would learn to act in a more humble manner after meeting some of us in this area.”
“What! You are suggesting something annoying, Chief! I know what I am doing, I assure you.”

John pointed out to him his major failing.

“Any trader of worth checks out his potential customers before turning up at their entrance. You made no effort at all in that way. Bad move, Jano.”

“Huh! One tribe is much the same as any other, Chief. I know that. No tribe is special, just different.”

“You do, eh? You know little or nothing, young man. First of all, I am not the Chief of this tribe, so a first fault there. Secondly, your surprise at meeting a female warrior is another fault. ALL of our adult women are trained in warrior skills. In addition to that, this tribe has a female Chief, so you had best be prepared to dicker with a woman whose word is law within this tribe. Get my drift? You are an amateur compared to most of the traders we deal with.”

“So you are not the Chief? You are just a tribesman, sitting here. You must be another guard.”

“Nope. Not a guard either.”

“Just a man of words, I see. Why should I pay any attention to you then?”

“Because information has no regard to who says the words, if the words are true. My words have a bit of value, since I happen to be a Shaman.”

“Oh.” His face fell and he admitted, “I have fallen in shit, I think.”
“More or less. Trading skills in goods are fine to have, but you also need social skills; learning to take people as you find them, without deciding about them before you meet them. That is where you landed in the shit. Did you want to be introduced to Chief Numa?”

“That’s the female Chief of the tribe? Yes please.”

“Stay there,” John commanded, and left to find Numa. He found her at the cook-fire, talking over recipes with the cooks. She looked pleased until John told her about the new trader.

“Is he that stupid?” she asked.

“Still a learner, I think, in need of some experience. I think that is why he was directed here by a Chief up north who knows about us.”

“Hmphh. You think I should speak with him and waste my time?”

“Please. Treat him as an errant son in need of motherly advice.”

A smile broke her face and she announced, “I can do that, darling. Sounds like fun. Lead me to him.”

John made his way back to the entrance and did the introductions, acting as if he was a mere underling to her, despite being a Shaman.

“Trader Jano, this is Chief Numa, Chief of Numa’s tribe; a woman of authority, and a revered mother as well. Chief Numa, this man calls himself Trader Jano and seeks audience with our Chief.”

For a long moment Numa looked the man up and down as if inspecting him for acceptability. She noted his lack of a pack of any great dimensions.

“Well, trader, what do you bring to trade with? What is in your little pack?”

Ignoring the implied put-down, he blinked then explained as if to a child, “My mode of operation is that I carry samples of what I can trade in, and you can show me samples of what you have to trade in return. Simple.”

“Interesting,” Numa said with a straight face giving nothing away. “Please empty your pack to show us what wonders you bring to my tribe.”

Stymied, Jano did as demanded, and laid down a row of objects, one by one; making his presentation as if he was displaying treasures. Numa glanced at John, to see him smiling gently.

She cast her eye over the display on the floor, but only from her standing position, to maintain her authority.

She asked, “John, would you be a dear and tell me what, if any, of these trade goods would be of interest to the tribe?”

“Of course, my Chief. As your Shaman, I will apply my seeing talents to these objects.”

He knelt down and ran his eyes along the line, opening several small bags to inspect the contents, and only muttering, “Mmm...” from time to time. After reaching the end, he summarised the offerings for Numa’s benefit.

“Most of these are of little value to us, my Chief, for we have already seen better examples, and those that have some merit lack the choice to assess the consistency of their production. The samples may be of good or bad quality, but we cannot tell. The bags of nuts fail to tell us what quantity might be offered, and what value they have in taste and edibility, or for making into jewellery if they are hard and shiny enough. These cobs I recognise as a crop from far to the north, but they are in dire need of improvement to grow into larger cobs that might have any great advantage as a food source.”

Spurred into action by this downgrading, Jano slipped off his footwear and slapped his moccasin on the stone floor.

“There! I can organise footwear made in comfy leather to fit your exact size of foot.”

John lifted the well-worn moccasin and squinted at it before announcing, “Looks like one of ours, Chief. Even has the stitching pattern we use.”

Numa smiled, “And he is not even up-to-date. Trader, this tribe is the main source of such moccasins, and we are preparing to introduce a new version made from the tough hides of bison from the northern continent. I hope you have heard of these bison that roam wild in multitudes on the plains of the northern continent. Do you have anything at all special to tell us about?”

“Not with me, but I can get access to solid and liquid cleaning materials.”

Numa gave him a glare.

“Another of our products that you think you can sell, trader? Next you will be offering us a two-wheeled cargo vehicle? A vehicle which we also make, and mostly sell to traders like yourself. I get the impression that you have nothing worthwhile to offer us, Trader Jano, that we do not already have.”

The man’s face darkened in anger.

“You just don’t want to trade; is that it?”

“Not at all,” said Numa. “Trading involves both sides having something the other wants or needs. You didn’t prepare yourself by finding out what we might want, or bring what you might have to offer that you have established that we don’t already have. I suspect you didn’t prepare by, for example, learning from an old trader about what works and what doesn’t.