Chapter 8

Long ago, the 'twin olive trees' of 'Twin Olive Tree Oasis' had grown into a grove. In the centre was a lake fed from a spring and, surrounding this, olives, palms, orange trees, and others provided a hint of cool moisture amid the surrounding desert. Hydroponic gardens had provided the Garcians with a reasonable income over the years, including marijuana, but, latterly, the band had fallen on hard times. The difficulty of getting produce through Bakhunin lands had severed them from the lucrative Cityplex markets.

The Garcians had been foragers in years gone past, but that source of income had steadily been replaced. Their 'Ride' now encompassed tracts of severe desert - most if it long stripped of anything remotely useful.

The oasis, itself, supported a population of fewer than 1000. There were camels and a few horses along with some sheep and pigs. Altogether, the Garcians survived the best they could upon what was left to them. 200 shipwrecked refugees put a strain on their meagre resources, but, whatever they could spare, they shared willingly. The contrast between them and the Bakhunins couldn't be more marked.

Twin Olives in ancient times had been a town called Bloomington. Few of the old buildings remained, but some that had survived the ravages of time, had been adapted for use by the Garcians. Weathered red brick had been incorporated into many of the houses, often with water reed thatch on the roof. The extreme climate had been overcome to a degree with mudbrick adobe, double glazing, and roof shutters. Each house had a central hearth with some enjoying electricity via PortaGens acquired long ago and of doubtful reliability.

The stranded Euros were billeted around to whoever had space. By good luck, or shrewd management, Armin de la Perriere was housed along with Megan Sion and her daughter, Heather, at the home of a shoemaker, Ronal, and his family. Armin was given the use of an ancient, dural built caravan at the back of the house - it's antique, gas turbine electric motor long since declared irreparable - if, indeed, any gas was available, anyhow. There was no power, but there were sufficient vents and portafans to keep it reasonably cool during the day.

The lake, itself, was surrounded by ancient broken concrete in which the Garcians had pounded brick chips and other debris. The wave action had smoothed it into a kind of glaze that, in the cool of the evening, provided a pleasant 'beach' for strolling. As Garcians are also wont to do in the evening, cooking fires were lit outside and a shared meal offered to anyone who wanted to participate. In all, to many of the Euros, this was as close to paradise as they could imagine.

After dinner, Armin took Heather for a stroll by the lake. Out over the dark waters, night hawks, a kind of nocturnal peregrine falcon, swooped low over the surface, looking for carp feeding on night flying insects. Their strikes erupted wherries of white spray upon the otherwise still water. Heather was enchanted, and stared with wide-eyed wonder. Armin smiled at her innocence and she turned her face. The dying fires reflected in her eyes and he saw the faint hint of tears. Her face, soft focused in the dim light, was framed by her loose hair. Armin thought she was utterly beautiful. He moved in and touched her moist mouth and she responded with mounting passion.

Armin began to apologise, but her hands came up over his shoulders and around his neck. With scarcely any thought, his arms encircled her thin body and, together, they slid into a clinch. Her chest was heaving when they broke for air - her eyes softened with a mixture of excitement and confusion.

"I've dreamt of this," she murmured. "My whole life."

"What?" he asked, softly. "This lake, these trees?"

"That kiss," she said.

A short distance away, Megan Sion watched with an intoxicating mix of emotions. There were the practical fears of her daughter falling in love with a much older man. She doubted his honesty, his intentions, as, perhaps, any mother would. At least, she thought, Heather would be spared the awkward fumbling around she'd normally experience with someone closer to her age. Armin clearly knew what he was doing.

She also felt pangs of jealousy, not because she wanted the man for herself, but, of those feelings. She knew she could neither say nor do anything to Heather that had any hope at all of banging any sense into her. She remembered that state of mind, herself, and, if she'd been bound with chains, she would've chewed through them to be with this guy. Megan knew Heather was a lost cause until her feet retouched the earth. The only thing she could do was be there when she crashed. The couple slipped, arms intertwined, towards the trees and Megan had little doubt what would probably happen there.

In Euro City, as in Cityplex, people lead hermetically sealed lives. With strict injunctions about sex and breeding children - you are permitted only one child, cannot marry under 30 years of age, etc - young people 'holo-dated.' Anyone breaking the law about this lost the many benefits of being a Euro citizen. You become an outcast, denied free medical treatment and an apartment. Forced to find shelter in the city fringes, the result was often tragic, especially for the children.

'Holo-dating' involved holographic technology that allowed users to interact, using the simulated power of touch, the Virtual Touch. After a couple decided they wanted to cohabit, they then had to apply for the necessary permits, and this could take years. This, and other severe restrictions - although, for the best of reasons - made the idea of colonising the Western lands attractive. Such life changing was only possible for the rich, of course.

Although couples were inevitably technically virgins on the honeymoon night, most had a fair degree of knowledge by virtue of Virtual Touch. You found your holo-date in chat rooms or 'virtual bars' without moving from the couch. All a person needed was a cheap 'holo-multi cube'. Once you like someone, you could decide to adjourn to a private room. Usually, the 'real' people retreated to their bedroom.

As Armin looked for a suitable place among the trees, he thought of the many liaisons he, as an airship captain, had with rich widows and other single women aboard the Normandie. The cruises had afforded rich pickings, free from the intrusive monitoring that was a characteristic of life in Euro city. He had a way of disabling the ship's cameras, and, beyond the Euro border, was no longer subject to its laws. True, the Zeppelin company had its own rules, but the more trivial were hardly ever enforced. If they were ever aware of these infractions, they hadn't made an issue of them in 15 years.

Widows, and there were many of them following the last of the 'Land Wars, ' had been compulsorily sterilised after having their single, permitted child. This freed them from the risk of unwanted pregnancy and airship cruises gave them ample opportunity to satiate their sexual needs. Of course, by law a person could only marry once in Euro, so divorce or widowhood left them unable to ever partner again. For those with money, they could travel out beyond Euro's borders. For those that hadn't, there were few choices beyond interactive holo-novels, holo-dating and virtual bars.

But, this girl was different, Armin considered. She was now free to make mistakes, to fall in and out of love with no legal consequences. Did she understand the responsibility that went with that? Her switch hadn't been thrown and she could fall pregnant after her first real fuck. With no-one to trip that switch, she could go on to have another, and another until she'd bred a whole band. He looked into her face, at the wide-eyed innocence, so full of the upbringing that dictated she would find her one true love and mate for life. She looked on him as that mate, it was plain to see, but he was much too old for her.

For Armin, that innocent optimism, zest for discovery, and determination to enjoy life drew him inexorably into her orbit. Heather was pretty, lithe and youthful. He thick, long hair fell loose and untidily in a cascade about her head and upper body. She smiled at him with lidded eyes, her face soft with desire - her full lips slightly parted with expectation. Braless, her small boobs wobbled underneath her thin cotton top as she moved, moving Armin to want to caress, feel, and feast. His ethical considerations grew dim - crowded out with the overwhelming need to lie with this barely woman.

"Look, there, no-one can see us," she whispered, pointing.