Sappho Chapter 5 free porn video

Chapter 5 The slashed pink-lightning-bolt-through-blue-circle motif of one of Stein's national trains rumbled down track #7, our track. Joanne, Maggie and I advanced to the yellow line with our luggage, ensuring we could find a decent cabin together. Glancing up at the old analog clock verified that the train to Thurdown, like most others, was on time, one of the good things about Stein. The old train station that lay in the heart of Valentina was a mass of heavy steel beams and stressed concrete, thoroughly imbued with the smell of chicken, popcorn and roasted nuts, and well-preserved and functional after over a hundred years of constant use. Although the station was too functional and used to be called a work of art, it did house impressive cement statues of the four founders of Sappho: Hattie George - the original Directress, Thora Yamato, Kim M. Orestes and, of course, Valentina Smith, the city's namesake. After two months in Ythren, we were finally free. I'd sent a file of the partial report the night before and hand-delivered a printed version of it to Priestess Nora, thanking her for her hospitality. I'd left the priestesses a few theological bones to pick - they would have expected nothing less - but had mainly given them a pass, praising the founders and the modern version of their religious heritage. Two months had robbed Joanne and me of any leftover tans from Woolf and we stood out like pale grubs in light summer dresses in the early afternoon among the locals, most of whom were accustomed to working or playing outdoors. This was southern Stein, below a bend in the river Vulva, far from the mountain heights, and we going to a farm. "Silver Star to Dora, Jasmine, Thurdown and points south now boarding on track #7," blared the loudspeakers inside and out the station. Mothers captured their small girls from play in the fountains outside or waved them over to their sides. Soon, dozens of women in light cotton dresses and loose pants stood beside us, waiting for the doors to open. We had planned well enough, and were among the first aboard, managing to secure a room for ourselves along with a fast red-faced woman with a blonde streaked girl about ten. She smiled at us as she settled into her seat, obviously pleased to get one of the booths. "Ternoon, all," she greeted us, showing a brilliant white set of teeth. I smiled at her accent; it was pure Stein country, a gentle lilt that some claimed came from Earth. "Hello, I'm Debbie Larranti from Paglia." I held out my hand. She reached over and took it in a firm calloused grip, careful not to dislodge her daughter from her knee. "I knew ye were different," she said knowingly. "I'm Jenn. We don't see many foreigners here." "We're going to be farmers on the Granger farm in Thurdown for a week." Her head tilted to the side and her friendly visage slid towards disbelief. "Why on Sappho would ye do that?" Her daughter stopped her fidgeting for a moment and stared at me with huge blue eyes. "I'm going to study farm culture." She nodded slowly, as if to the mentally suspect. "Well, that's - interestin'." She spoke to the others pleasantly after that and avoided me until she left the train an hour later in Dora. Maggie leaned forward after the train started moving again. "Debbie, she didn't know what to think. She's a farmer herself, and most don't get much of an education." I wondered about that. Maggie was right; few indeed from the country had a chance of leaving their farms to go to a university, but still, the simple concept of a study had seemed unfamiliar to Jenn. I turned my thoughts and attention to the passing countryside. The endless grass covering the rich soil shared space with wild bushes and scattered trees with only the occasional small village to break the monotony. It was a stark reminder how unpopulated this world really was. The entire Sappho landmass, almost entirely concentrated on this one continent, wasn't much larger than Australia. Compared to that mostly dry, hot place, Sappho was an Eden, blessed with fertile plains, lush valleys, plentiful minerals, and moderate weather. By Earth standards, she could have easily supported over a billion people. Men and women had settled for much less. The mining colonies of Daedalus lived in crowded underground caves, staying alive by guiding water-bearing asteroids to their cold moon as it circled a gas giant. Settlers on Last Stop wouldn't be able to breath the methane rich air for another thousand years, not until the imported methane-eating, oxygen-producing microbes had had their fill. The three-hour ride ended at an open-air wooden station on the far side of a medium-sized town. The train pulled in slowly, rumbling to a stop. "Thurdown. Exit to the right, please," spoke a rich contralto on the internal speaker. We stepped off into a warm breeze, blowing refreshingly through my hair and around my dress. Three women, two in overalls, one in the robes of a lower-ranking priestess, approached us from the right. The older woman in her late 50's grinned and held out her hands expansively. I recognized Directress Melody Millar from her picture. I dropped my bags and allowed the big hug she obviously wanted. Her graying, streaked hair smelled of soap, fine soil, and fertilizer. "Professor Larranti, I was surprised to get the call from Ythren about ye. If ye'want to study us, that's fine with me. Are you sure ye wouldn't rather have accommodations in town? There's a fine little hotel for the odd visitor that ye might find more comfortable." "Directress, please call me Debbie." I motioned to my companions. "This is my assistant, Joanne Minkster, and Sister Maggie Finn from Ythren. It might be more comfortable, but I'd rather get the real farm experience, as much as we can get in a week, anyway." Her brown eyes crinkled with amusement. Plainly she thought the whole idea was idiocy, but she didn't miss a beat. "As ye say is how you'll get it then. These fine women with me are Vice Directress Ginger Mannfred and Priestess Lana Anther." The Vice Directress extended a large firm hand and the shorter woman's green eyes found mine. "All yer arrangements are made. You'll be bunking in the Henrietta House. 'Bout half the younger unmarried women stay there." She shook her head. "I have no idea what ye aim to prove, but ye will get a taste o' the life! Follow me, please." We followed her down to a small bus. Maggie hung behind out of earshot while the Priestess spoke to her, gesticulating some message Maggie didn't like. A moment later, she joined us on the bus. "Maggie?" I asked, querying her glum expression. She shrugged. "The Temple is suspicious of outsiders. She doesn't know you as I do." I nodded - and caught Joanne's sharp glance to me. One more month. The Granger farm wasn't far from town. The bus hummed quietly down the asphalt road between cattle fences and rolling pastures. A collection of white buildings came into view as we turned down a well-maintained gravel road, the dust kicked up by the tires floating away in a steady breeze over rows of wheat. Ginger, our driver, dropped off Directress Mintar and Priestess Anther at a white-painted brick administrative building. The pink and blue striped Stein national flag flew on a flagpole directly in front. She drove around the circle and then off to a series of five long three-story wooden structures about a mile distant. They reminded me of ancient pictures of army barracks. She turned her head a little towards the back while still keeping an eye on the road. "These are yer quarters. Each house is based on age, marital status, and if ye have kids. You'll be stayin' in the second one, the Henrietta House, one o' a pair fer adult single women." I leaned forward from my seat behind her. "Any special rules, Ginger?" She shrugged. "I grew up here. Wouldn't know a special rule if it bit my ass. But all farms have rules. Lights out at 11:00, we all rise at the same time, eat in shifts - like that." She grinned. "Don't know if a week is long enough for ye to get used t' it. I hear that in Paglia and Woolf, they let you loose everywhere. We don't like that kind of irregular nonsense here." She pulled up to the second large 'house' and opened the door with a lever. "All out! Just go t' the office in the lobby. They already know that yer comin.' Good luck and may the Goddess protect ye." *** I decided that riding in a truck full of wheat was fun. The huge truck on six thick, fat wheels rolled smoothly along, the bumps and imperfections in the road barely felt over tons of shifting yellow husks. I stood at the mound's apex in work boots and overalls, raised my hands overhead to the cloudless sky and yelled, "Yeeeaaah!" into the wind. Maggie laughed and waved. "Debbie, please! Get down. Come here where it's safe." I grinned, catching wheat dust in my mouth, which I spit over the side. We were fifth in a line of trucks carrying the harvest to the mill and it was hardly a clean place to be. Our job had been to smooth the wheat as it flowed into the truck from the grain harvester, a hard job. I loved it; it was a chance to work my muscles and I attacked the wheat like an enemy. I'd even convinced Maggie to join my manic spirit. At the very least I wanted to be a part of the fastest team to get a full load. We might have even succeeded. The other teams tended to take their time. I climbed down and joined her at the side. I leaned back, breathing hard and agreeably tired. I wasn't nearly as strong as I used to be, but strong enough. "That was wonderful, Maggie!" "For you. I grew up on a farm. I was more on the dairy and cattle side of it, but it's about the same. This brings back old memories." "Where did you grow up?" "In a farming village to the northeast, Tyler. It was a lot like this; get up at 06:00, pray to the Goddess, eat breakfast and start work. It can be a very good life." I noted that her happy words didn't quite match her face. "How did you leave?" "There are two ways: Occasionally, a girl can be recognized as an outstanding student. If she is very lucky, she can be sponsored by the Directress or a priestess for higher education." She passed me a sad glance. "That doesn't happen very often on a farm. Most of the time, the girls get their ten years and it's over. There is little need for education on a farm; it puts ideas into women's heads and can only lead to distress and confusion." "I suppose so. If there's no possibility of leaving a farm, then it would be foolish to 'put ideas' into your head about leaving. You know that Paglia and Woolf don't agree with that." "Paglia and Woolf don't understand that the Goddess has a place for everyone. There is peace and harmony when a woman is sure of her place in the world. Learning what need not be learned is worse than a waste of time. A competitive society is another form of fighting. It is what men do." "Odd. I had no idea that men ruled in Paglia and Woolf." A brown eyebrow lifted. "You know what I mean." "Yes. Sorry for teasing you. Anyway, did you leave the farm because you were an outstanding student?" "I left by the second route. I wanted to be a sister and eventually become a priestess. I convinced my farm priestess that I was serious, and I went to train in our district capital's School of the Goddess. From there, I went to Ythren." She smiled. "It seems I had a scholastic bent after all, for the priestesses recommended that I go to the university there. I'm so glad. I wouldn't have met you otherwise." That last line and the fond look that accompanied it left me staring. "Me? There's nothing special about me. I'm just a scholar writing a paper who has to leave in a month." "I know," she said sadly. "A pity. I wish you could stay longer." I shrugged helplessly. "Well, so do I, but I have to get back!" The trucks slowed as we approached the mill and formed a column. The process moved fairly quickly, each truck stopping to dump their grain into a huge bin from which a conveyor belt with scoops took measured amounts, to be separated inside from the husks, and ground. Our job was to manually move the ton or two left behind from our hauler's bed. When our turn came, I attacked it with my usual burst of energy. Maggie took my arm and shook her head. "Debbie, slow down." I stopped my rake in mid-stroke. "What for? I want to do a good job." "It's not done that way here. A farmer is not the slave she was under man's lash. She takes her time and enjoys life." I smiled. "But I'm enjoying this! I might not enjoy it tomorrow or the day after..." "Hm. Let me explain it another way. It's bothering the others. They see you working hard and fast and they know their turn to work will come that much sooner." I looked over my shoulder and saw the women in the next two trucks watching me silently, their expressions and postures ranging from annoyance to outright anger. "I see. No problem." I slowed my strokes and took my time. A quick glance to the other trucks confirmed what Maggie had said. The women's bearing softened and one woman nodded approvingly. It made more sense to me then. The farm was large, but not so large as to justify the four thousand or so adults who worked there. Even in the late twentieth century in my native North America, most farms of that size were run with far fewer people. Sometimes, a single family had operated a farm with thousands of acres. Even accounting for the school, the women who ran the housing, the Temple's sisters and priestess, and the administration, there were at least triple the number of necessary women. Stein had plenty of arable land. Food had never been a problem on Sappho with the long growing season, endless grazing lands, and an ocean crammed with edible fish. Farms were generally smaller in Paglia and Woolf, but more efficient. The Temple ran Stein. The country was neat and clean and its government ran smoothly. The only reason so many people lived on the farms was because the Priestesses wanted it that way. I remained thoughtful and quiet on the bus ride back. Most of the women laughed, clapped, and even sang special songs: "Bringing in the Harvest," and "The long Day." We were lucky, our forewoman informed me, clapping me on my back heavily with a meaty hand; it was the last day of the harvest and the crop was in. "That's all, Maggie?" I shouted in her ear over one loud chorus of "Dancing Tonight." "Is the work finished?" "Yes, for a few days!" she yelled back. "The team will celebrate with a party and a couple of days of festivals and friendly athletics. Then the cycle starts again, but the work is never too hard." She grinned, slipping me a nudge in the ribs. "You chose the time well, Debbie. We'll clean up, eat lunch and have a harvest service, but after that, the entire farm is having a dance!" "And Joanne?" Joanne had been assigned to a detail cleaning Henrietta House. "She'll be there." We only had time for a quick shower. With the celebration, the communal showers were crowded. Waiting in line to get in, self-consciously naked with a bar of soap and a towel, it was hard to imagine my old self. Nudity was common on Sappho and Stein was certainly more visibly egalitarian than most places, but still, to be pressed together, all of us young and many pretty - for once I was glad I lacked my old equipment. And I wasn't the only one looking around. Being one of the new girls, I caught more than my share of appraising glances; even Maggie looked me up and down a few times. Also, except for Joanne, whom I saw in another line, I was the only woman with no pubic hair, Stein customs being different. After the shower, we went back to our rooms. Work was done for the day, so we put on light cotton summer dresses, conservatively cut past our knees, and, in the typical manner on Stein farms, decorated in large prints, usually flowers or, as I saw on a few dresses, wheat stalks, ears of corn, or even farm animals. Joanne filled out one of them, a light-green dress with a sheep motif, all of the woolly creatures cartoon cute and looking back with large, soulful eyes. "Not a baaaad dress, Joanne," I commented. She looked at me askance. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?" I had, of course, and I imagined that I looked as ridiculous as she did. I wore a bleached white dress with enormous yellow embroidered daisies, and fingered one affixed directly between my breasts. "Taste this bad has to be designed," I said, shaking my head. She went blank for a few seconds as she sometimes did while she was in deep thought. "You know, Debbie," she replied hesitantly, "I'm almost certain it is a designed style; strange, I never thought of it that way before." I spread my dress wide to give her a good look. "You thought that farmers just naturally liked to wear sheep, corn, and plate-sized daisies on their clothing?" She arched an eyebrow. "Well, why not? Sappho is big enough for many cultures and tastes. The farmers don't see anything wrong with it. Most are proud to be who they are. 'Closest to the soil; closest to the Goddess,' is what they say about farmers in Stein, and we are taught to respect all cultures equally. On the face of it, this - farm fashion - might have occurred naturally, but I'm sure it didn't. Centuries ago, before the big cities formed, most of the priestesses came from the farms. There are still paintings of many of the priestesses back then in younger poses; proud, uplifting pictures with a scythe or plow; scenes with the sun shining on them as they preached the Goddess' will to adoring throngs - you know. The farmers in those pictures wore styles similar to the rest of Stein. It wasn't until the last two to three hundred years that the clothing styles became different, defining the main occupations." "I'm impressed, Joanne." She gave me the same warm smile I remembered from long ago. "I'm not a historian, but I like to think that I've absorbed something while I've been in Stein. I've watched you work and there isn't much you've seen here that I haven't." "True enough. And why do you think the priestesses made the clothing styles different?" "Control, of course. The priestesses would say that it helps make each woman know her place under the Goddess, but I've seen and read too much to believe that slant anymore." "Joanne, you're going to have to be very careful. Talking about what you know could get you arrested for blasphemy." She crossed her arms and just watched me for a moment. "A strange thing to warn me about now; you didn't mind when I copied your recordings." She frowned abruptly. "Debbie, why did you show them to me? Weren't you taking a chance about violating some rule?" I slumped onto the bed opposite her, and looked at her guiltily. "I have a confession to make. I saw the recordings before we saw them together. Half the reason I showed them to you was to prove to you that men, me in particular, weren't the monsters you - Sappho thought." Her eyes warmed a little. "I understand that completely. And what's the other half?" "I'm not supposed to interfere with other societies - at least not to the extent of destroying their culture, but I couldn't - or shouldn't - keep this from Sappho. This isn't something from my scout ship; this is an important part of your history. I was stuck. I certainly couldn't release the recordings of the founders to any of the governments; depending on whom I gave them to, they would either be used for political purposes or destroyed. This is dangerous information; improperly released - or even released at all - it could cause chaos, even death." "But you gave them to me!" she exclaimed. I grinned crookedly. "I didn't exactly give them to you. You wanted to copy them and I didn't prevent you. Technically, I've followed my mission guidelines to the letter. But now it's your problem. I'm not going to be here much longer; you'll have to decide what to do with the knowledge after I'm gone. Other than my recordings, you have the only copies on Sappho. You're the only other person who knows about them, and you know where the originals are." "Goddess!" she cried before her hand covered her mouth. "You did this deliberately. You want me to decide what to do with the recordings?" I rose to my feet and brushed my daisies flat. "There are three people I trust to handle it rationally: you, Reni, and Indira. If you don't want the responsibility, then give it to one of them. But you don't have to determine the fate of the world now, you know. Why don't we get something to eat first?" Lunch was in the cafeteria, a huge, bright, and airy room. It reminded me a bit of the venerable service academy where I'd spent two years in scout training after college. Of course, the memories were different; it was mostly men there with a few scattered women - and I had been a man, but by some coincidence, the room size and table layout was nearly the same. Even the table color was nearly identical: Sappho had polished dark hard wood and the academy used black endurastic, a ubiquitous, tough plastic compound. Communal farms were tight groups; a woman generally worked within a single unit for years. During that time she would eat, sleep, and shower together with her unit, forming bonds closer than most sisters. Nowhere was this relationship closer than at the table. Earlier that morning, we'd sat at the transient table, generally an unhappy group of strangers - more like outcasts with no family. The three of us, having known each other, weren't affected, but the other women had merely sat and had eaten self-consciously, looking at their plate, burning with embarrassment that they knew no one there. That afternoon we were honored with places at a work unit table, the same unit we had been assigned that morning. Apparently, Directress Mintar had decided that we would get the full farm experience. Vice Directress Manfred escorted us to the table, introduced us, and passed us off to Ingrid, one of the unit leaders, a tall brunette with angular features. We had met the minimums earlier when we had worked and showered together, so we could not be refused, but Ingrid didn't bother to hide her disgust at integrating three "babies," the word for new transfers, who would only be there for a week. She pulled us aside before permitting us to sit with the rest of her crew. "What in Hell'm I supposed t' do with you infants?" she demanded, staring with pale blue eyes at me and especially Maggie, whom, I supposed, she blamed the most; being a Stein woman and a former member of a farm. By Ingrid's reasoning, Maggie should have somehow prevented putting a work unit leader into an impossible situation. "We'll only be here for six more days," I said with a smile. "Think of it that way if you'd like, Ingrid." She looked me up and down, and both corners of her mouth turned down in a sneer. "You're not even from Stein. What could ye possibly contribute t' our work unit 'cept disruption?" She was only an inch taller than me when I stood up straight. Glancing first at Joanne and Maggie's nervous, embarrassed faces, I turned back to face Ingrid and said, "I thought we all did well enough this morning, but if you'd think it would be best, we'd be happy to stay out of your way." She nodded slowly, her sneer changing into something less condescending. "A fine offer, but that's not our way. It'd help if ye had something t' bring to us, a special craft, knowledge, or ability." Her eyes narrowed. "We don't want foreign notions, though; you can keep them to yerselves." "What exactly are you talking about?" I asked. "I know what she's saying, Debbie," Maggie said, pushing forward. "I'm a Sister of the Temple, Ingrid. I'm authorized to do small blessings and assist in prayer. Debbie, Joanne, they want something useful or new, something all can share in or benefit from that doesn't blaspheme." "I've had some medical training," Joanne replied. At Ingrid's disinterested shrug, she furrowed her brows for a few seconds. "I know a few stories that I guarantee no one has heard before," she finished hopefully, glancing at me. In the days after my operation, when she first became my monitor, she often tried to get me to talk. Some nights she'd asked me of Earth and I'd told her stories. Not too remarkably, many of the most famous stories had their counterparts on Sappho. They had either been reinvented or had been passed on by the original settlers, but there had been a few unique tales and whole series, "Aesop's Fables" and "Arabian Nights," that had no parallel on the planet. Joanne had especially loved the ancient stories of talking foxes, ants, owls, mice and lions. Ingrid shrugged, marginally satisfied, and suddenly all eyes were on me. I was wondering if I could get away with the story of Cinderella and Princess Charmine when Joanne spoke. "Debbie is an excellent soccer player." At my raised eyebrow she explained: "While I was working this morning, I heard about a friendly tournament between work units." "What position?" Ingrid demanded. "Center forward, usually, but I've played center half as well." "Can ye manage left wing?" "I've been told I have a decent left foot." "Our left wing is out with a sprained knee. It might be a friendly tournament, but we maintain a brisk rivalry with Madeline House. Be at the field tomorrow morning at 8:00. They'll be a kit ready for ye and we'll see if yer ability matches yer confidence." "I'll be there, Ingrid." She nodded again to each of us, this time with more satisfaction. "Better than I'd hoped," she said, and gave us a brief hug. "Welcome to the Beavers, Henrietta's finest unit." I bit my tongue and made it through lunch trying hard not to think about one of life's bigger ironies. So, I'm a Beaver. I kept telling myself, and nearly choked, laughing while stripping the corn from a large piece of corn-on-the-cob with my teeth. I tried to explain it to Joanne later, but I don't think she ever quite understood. Lunch was followed by a service in the house temple where the house priestess, a severe woman in short gray hair, entered from a side room and ascended a short staircase to an empty platform, a hidden circle of lights in the floor transforming her into a glowing icon. Her plain white robe didn't hide the outline of her sagging breasts, a symbol that many older women in Stein wore proudly as a sign of experience or wisdom, and she led us in the harvest prayer, comparing the rich fertility of the land and the growing season to the fertility and cycles within each woman. Her arms spread wide like an angel, the priestess waxed eloquently, her clean, strong, amplified voice carrying the message she believed with all her being throughout the cavernous room. Her eyes sought us all out individually, sometimes with love, other times with fierce passion, proclaiming the Goddess' love for all Her daughters, and our proud role as tillers of the soil for Stein, the manifestation of Her will in the only world known to be free and pure of the horrible evils of men - except for one, she noted, an abomination who looked like a woman, who somewhere walked Sappho's holy ground, free to lurk, think foul thoughts, and contemplate appalling deeds: me. At the mention of men, those terrible, sadistic, malformed, lumbering creatures who delighted in rape, despicable pleasures, and making women miserable, some in the audience glared, twisted their mouths into ugly shapes, or nodded their heads in affirmation. One woman who'd been especially nice to me earlier at the table, a beautiful blond girl maybe nineteen standard years old, stood, raised her right fist into the air, and screamed, "Kill the evil! Kill the evil one!" And she was not alone, many shouting, "Beasts!" "Disgusting animals!" or "Destroy the filth!" At that last, Joanne reached over and took my hand in hers, grasping it firmly. And yet, except for the potential threat to me, it was an uplifting sermon, appealing to a woman's strengths and instincts, emphasizing the Goddess as the loving mother-of-all protecting Her children from evil (men and men's ways) and sustaining life. Worshiping Her, the sermon implied strongly, meant that all Her children must follow the Temple, for only the priestesses knew best, their appointed place being interpreters of Her will. I looked around carefully to see who was swallowing it and judged maybe two out of three, the remaining third seeming either bored or annoyed. Afterwards we all stood and I stumbled through unfamiliar songs praising the Goddess and the Temple, but standing next to Maggie, who sang loudly and proud, I doubt that anyone noticed. It ended with a final blessing. Each of us made the triangle of Aphrodite (womb, breast, breast, womb), and departed the temple by rows. Once we were clear I looked into the clean blue sky, stretched and inhaled a few deep breaths of rich farm air. Maggie took the opportunity after the lengthy service to go to the bathroom. "Thanks," I said to Joanne after Maggie had left. She searched my face for a moment. "Are you all right, Debbie? They said some horrible things in there." "I'm all right. For a moment I had to remind myself how good your surgeons are. It's pretty much just talk, anyway; I doubt that they are really looking for me." "Well, I think that truth is important. And the Temple is using men- hatred as a device to control Stein. The priestesses are keeping millions of women from the freedom and opportunities of Woolf and Paglia." I nodded. "I know, and using me to frighten people infuriates me. The whole thing is insane. With the modifications Tyrona and Jezzi ordered, I have an infinitely greater chance to give birth than to rape someone, and yet my presence here on Sappho is actually helping the priestesses. It's just another reason why I should leave." "We should never have changed you. We should have just fixed your ship and sent you back." I smiled wryly. "That would have been my preference, but it's really nobody's fault. This whole mess began a thousand years ago. I'll leave here with a lot of good memories...and one or two bad ones, Jezzi and especially Tyrona." I grimaced thinking about her. "Satan must have spawned that one." She tilted her head curiously and looked me a question. "Satan is an ancient evil - sometimes looks like a huge red man with a tail and horns. He - never mind, not important," I said, having spotting a figure approaching us in a dress enhanced with large, cuddly rabbits. I waved, and Maggie waved back. "Joanne, lets have some fun. Isn't there a dance to go to?" She took my arm and started off, dragging me behind. "Why, Debbie Larranti, I believe you're right." The twanging sounds of some exotic plucked string instrument combined with a fast fiddle and a beat that made me want to move. The dance was already in progress when we followed a few small groups inside the broad doors of the meeting hall, a general-purpose metal and concrete facility large enough to seat several hundred or, with nearly all the seats stored away, a thousand packed women with just enough room to swing their partner round and round. I did manage several dances with Joanne. Neither of us knew the steps too well, so we stumbled through it for a while, laughing at our mistakes until we had the knack. From my anthropology classes, I recognized it as a variation of an old North American country dance - not too hard to learn from either the dom or fem side. For this dance I was dom, and had just put Joanne into a fast spin, admiring her strong slim legs beneath the whirling sheep. I enjoyed dancing with Joanne. She was married and I would have preferred dancing with Indira, but her hand in mine was soft and warm, and the feel of her waist where it expanded to form her hips satisfied a deep need. I flattered myself that she felt something, too, even knowing that her best smiles and freest laughter would always be reserved for her wife. And then I felt a gentle tap at my shoulder. "Debbie!" Maggie yelled over the loud music. I looked down at the shorter woman and grinned. "Hi, Maggie!" I shouted back. "Come on, find a girl and dance!" She gazed at me steadily, her deep brown eyes wide and less innocent than the fluffy bunnies on her dress. "I did, but I want to dance with you!" Joanne winked at me behind her back. "Debbie," Joanne said, "I'm getting a little tired anyway. I think I'll get some cider." "All right, Joanne. I'll see you later." I looked at my new partner while blowing down my dress and flapping the daisy there to get some airflow. I wasn't tired, but all the bodies spinning and moving around had warmed the hall. Maggie stood close enough to me to smell her scent, a gentle spice; she waited for my answer. "I'd be happy to dance with you, Maggie. Do you prefer to lead or follow?" She smiled and did - something. A slight turn of her head; a small lean forward; a sly flattering look from demure eyes, and the shy Maggie I'd known had become aggressive and sort of - cuddly. "I feel like a fem when I'm with you, Debbie," she said to my ear. Her words weren't that unusual; the dom and fem roles were an open topic for discussion and women did sometimes switch depending on whom they were with. On the other hand, I was fairly sure what she said went far beyond dancing. "All right, I'll lead," I said, and took her hand. It wasn't as bad as I'd feared. Like a good fem, Maggie had made her feelings known and had left it for me to decide what to do. I'd never really considered Maggie a friend until recently, being a monitor for the priestesses had ruled her out for that; since she'd come to the farm, though, the bittersweet memories of her recent past had shown me a vulnerable side and the further away from the capital we'd come, the more I'd seen of the bright, fresh country girl she had been before she had entered the sisterhood. The more we danced, the less I worried about Stein or the Temple. What could be wrong? I was dancing with a pretty girl. I smiled more and relaxed, moving to the music, enjoying the way my dress moved and swirled against my legs, feeling the moment. I gave Maggie a good spin, watching her turn. Her face was alive; her young lithe body a sight to make other women drool and sigh. When she faced me again, when our hands were together and our bodies close, her eyes sought mine. For an instant, I was light years away in a different time, dancing with a girl who had looked at me much like that. If I had changed suddenly back to a man, Maggie would have been repulsed; if Maggie had grown up on Earth then at best she would been indifferent, yet she'd looked at me much as my old girlfriend had so long ago - and it felt so normal. There were differences between the worlds, naturally. Besides the obvious variations of making love, each Sappho relationship had to be worked out - there were no natural guidelines to follow, no clear divisions of strength, childbearing, soft and hard, leader or follower; the dominions of male and female were abolished, homogenized into a mass that all might share. And it didn't matter, not really. As long as there was attraction and love, two people could still share, come to know each other, marry, and live out their lives together. At least, that's how it should be. "Is something wrong, Debbie? Your face dropped like a rock." "Let's rest for a while, get some cider or bug juice." She nodded. "Of course. You must have been dancing for nearly an hour." I held my lower back and winced. "Oh! Yes! These creaky old bones aren't what they used to be." She laughed. "What are you, twenty-five standard? You'd better be in good shape if you're playing soccer tomorrow. Some of these farmers play rough, especially if they don't know you." "I'll be ready." We arrived at the table and picked-up two large, tall glasses of bug juice, a purple concoction of grapes and squeezings of the unknown. "Lets go outside and find a shade tree, Maggie, it's too hot in here." We found an oak far enough away from most of the crowd to speak privately, sitting on the grass. I looked around on the way for Joanne, but didn't see her. I figured that she might be avoiding us to give us some time together. Joanne had some strange ideas sometimes. She reached out quickly and covered my hand. "Debbie, before you say anything, I want say something." Lowering her eyes modestly, she said, "It's hideously forward to say this, but I really like you. You're unlike anyone else I know; it's like you see the world through a different perspective." She looked up slowly, wetting her lower lip with her tongue, and her big brown eyes filled with longing. "You're very attractive, too." I sat up straight, suddenly very conscious that her hand had moved to my knee; when done by a fem it was a powerful sign of availability. "Uh. Maggie, I'm not sure this is a good idea. I'm..." She bit her lip. "You don't like me." The skin turned gray under her olive complexion and she started to rise. "I'm sorry. When we danced, I thought I felt something." I motioned her quickly to the ground. "Wait. I do like you; you're very pretty, and I'm flattered. It's just that..." I saw her face, ready to fall again at the first wrong word, and backed-up. "Maggie, what would Priestess Nora Elizabeth say to this? I'm from Paglia. What if you were seen with me?" The smile returned like the sun. "It's encouraged for all members of the Temple to see a variety of women. How else can we gain the experience to find our perfect mate? Don't worry, Debbie. Everyone in the Temple does it, regardless of position or class. There are several in the inner circle who occasionally dip their toes in the waters of the sisterhood." "I see." I saw it a little less rosy than the miracle of joining across the ranks. Nearly all of the high priestesses were in their fifties or above. The sisterhood rarely exceeded the age of thirty and most were much younger. The way high priestesses were revered, the sisterhood must have been like a well of youth to draw from whenever the urge struck. "Maggie, sometimes..." I held my head in my hands, wondering what to say, and then I blushed. For a crazy moment I'd actually considered saying that I was on my period to avoid the issue. "Debbie, please don't be shy. I know you have to leave in less than a month, but I'd like to spend some time with you." I looked at her crookedly. As David, if a babe wanted me for a month, I wouldn't have hesitated. Even now, I couldn't think of a legitimate reason to say no - save one. "Maggie, your offer means more to me than you know, but I don't need to be with anyone now." "Are you on your period?" I sighed softly. "No. It's my old girlfriend. I am attracted to you, Maggie, but I'm not ready for someone new - even temporarily." She looked at me closely then reluctantly pulled her hand away from my knee. "That's why you look sad sometimes. You look off into the distance like your mind is far away." "She is never far away from my thoughts." "Debbie," she said, leaning forward, "tell me about her. It's not healthy to keep this to yourself." The switch to girl friend mode was as disturbing as it was predictable. I couldn't say much; there was a good chance that someone might trace back who I was after I left Sappho. The last thing I wanted to do was say anything that could expose Indira to the kind of notoriety that would come from having been my girlfriend. On the other hand... "Her name is Tyrona, Maggie. And she was the first to make me feel like a true fem." "Goddess, that is so wonderful," she said, clapping her hands together. "What an unusual name. What does she look like?" "She's bigger than me and stronger. Her beauty can overwhelm you sometimes and she has a tremendous presence. But underneath that dom exterior lies the heart of a, um, cuddly rabbit. It's hard to know her - she's really a very private person, you know, the kind that is all business in front of everyone and then behind closed doors..." I exhaled dramatically, looking off into the sky. She nodded knowingly. "I've met a few - mostly those in power. What happened?" "Politics. When we met, she was in a - situation. With her boss. She couldn't declare her love for me openly and I wouldn't accept anything less. I left her." "She doesn't sound very nice to me. It sounds like you did the right thing." "I don't blame her too much. Sometimes when unscrupulous politicians become powerful, they treat those under them like they own them. If she told anyone that she loved me, then her boss would have surely ruined her." "Debbie, I think you should at least try to see other people." "I've been out with others, Maggie, but it hasn't worked out. The last one was a disaster. I'll get past this; I feel myself healing, but I need time. The way my mind spins sometimes, I couldn't be a good dom to anyone. I'm normally slightly fem anyway. I'm sorry." She nodded. "I'm sorry too. Sometimes time is the only way." We stood together and she gave me a hug. "Debbie." she said after we broke apart. "Yes?" When she looked at me, the concern was still there, but a confident air had replaced the innocence. "Please don't take this the wrong way. Part of my training as a Sister is to help women in situations like this." "What are you talking about?" "I know I'm younger than you, and that might make it awkward," she said briskly, "but I am majoring in Psycho-Socio Relationships. Answer me honestly, Debbie: Are you sure that you and Tyrona have no chance to get back together?" "Oh, I'm sure," I replied before I could even think about it. She examined my face closely, checking my eyes and other points for who-knows-what. "All right," she said, apparently satisfied, "It shouldn't take several months to get over a complete split. It's possible that you have some hidden psychological problems, but I haven't seen it. You seem to be well adjusted. You're extremely competent at what you do, socially adept, and I've seen the way you look at other women, me included - your libido seems to be fine." "Maggie!" I laughed. She grinned. "Don't worry, I'm almost finished. From what you've told me and from what I've seen, I'd say that you show the signs of an incomplete break-up. That usually means you didn't say goodbye properly. I think you still have a love-tie to Tyrona that you need to cut away. Does that sound about right to you?" It was pure insanity - at least for Tyrona, but she was never the real issue, anyway. I didn't want to think about it. Thinking about Indira was to relive the pain in her eyes and imagine the hurt and disgust she would feel when she found out who I really was. "I see," she said sympathetically. "Look, it wasn't easy to leave her, Maggie. You're right; it wasn't a clean break, but the situation was impossible." "If you'd have done a better job of it, you wouldn't be in this place now," she chided gently. I frowned at her. "Real life sometimes interferes with perfect classroom solutions, and I am not going to explain. She's strong. She and I will get past this and life will go on." She grabbed my arm as I made to leave. "I'm sorry! I've insulted you. Please, Debbie, one more question." "What?" "Did you ever give her a goodbye kiss? I mean a kiss that showed her what she meant to you?" I shook my head wearily. Maggie's grip on my arm was like a leech determined to suck the pain from my body. "No. Unfortunately, it didn't come to that. May I go now?" "Use me. I can be her substitute!" she exclaimed, moving to block my exit. "Studies have shown," she recited, "that the act itself, if done sincerely, is often an aid to freeing the sufferer from a bad relationship-ending event." How could I explain to her that I didn't want to feel better? In my heart I didn't want to "get over" Indira. I didn't even want to try until I put many years and parsecs behind me. But Maggie waited for me, sure in her youthful wisdom that she was right. I held my chin as I considered it from different angles. "All right. How does this work, Maggie?" "Kiss me the way you would have kissed her if you'd had the chance. Say, through the kiss, 'goodbye, I like you; I hate you; it's over' - or whatever you wanted to say, imagining me in her place. I need to know something about her, though: what kind of dom she is, her personality, and so forth." "She's slightly dom with a strong, warm personality. She's...Imagine a heroine who might have been born hundreds of years ago." "That's so romantic," she sighed. "I'll try my best. Are you ready?" "Yes. But she's taller than you." I positioned her near the tree on a slight rise until our faces stood about level. Maggie licked her lips and watched me nervously. I had my doubts that she could ever imitate Indira. She steeled herself with a deliberate effort and did manage a dom pose, although her eyes still reminded me of the animals on her dress. "I'm ready, Debbie. Kiss me goodbye," she said authoritatively, and closed her eyes. I moved in and touched my lips to hers. Maggie wasn't bad; her impression of a slightly dom woman wasn't far off, but she lacked Indira's natural authority and didn't quite feel the same. Still, it helped that she looked something like her. I started slowly, getting a feel for it, recapturing the strong fem I'd always been with Indira, running my hands smoothly over her back and thighs, while Maggie did the much the same with me. The countless lessons with Barbara and Wendy and the considerable practice with Indira paid off. When I'd accustomed myself to her, I let her have it. Melting gently against firmer lips, bringing her closer. Hands rising up her back, fingertips skimming against softness, pressing lightly, response guided, back arching, rising under generous silky hair, welcoming neck, nape caressing, gliding, feeling, blending. Moving forward now, hips touching, showing needs, wants, confident, knowing her so well, trusting she would never hurt me. Leave lips for a moment, brushing her neck with my nose - cool teasing, playing. My neck to the side, exposing, ready and willing, equal, accepting. Back to her mouth, breasts brushing naturally across swollen nipples - casual, easy promise for now and later. Arms and legs firming - strength, ability, resolve, a full partner, stand together, strong as necessary, fem by choice and respect, not weakness. Gentle tongue between her teeth - never a battle, tender persuasion. Hands roll over hips and thighs - exploring, questing, unafraid and bold. Pressing forward, breath increasing, lips soft and steady, tongue touching, matching, meeting. Hands on face now, intimate and warm - passion flowing, heart unfolding. Bodies molding, never forcing. Back of fingers brushing cheek, memories and dreams, tears and clinging - inevitability, heartache. Softest separation, losing contact, warmth departing, needs unfilled, desperate longing, fading, nothing... I opened my eyes slowly. Maggie was already looking back, tears streaming down her cheeks. "That's what you felt, Debbie? That was your goodbye?" It took a moment to wipe my eyes and a little longer to return. For a time, Indira had been with me. "What did you expect, Maggie? Hate, disgust? I didn't want to leave her, and neither did she." "You loved her. You still do. Why then...?" "I told you, sometimes real life interferes with what you want." She seemed nearly in shock and I took her hand gently. "I'm going for a walk now. Would you like to join me?" She shook her head. "No, thank you. I'll stay here for a while." She sat, folding her legs under, and then looked up at me. "Debbie, I'm sorry. I don't think I can see you the way I offered before. It wouldn't be a good idea." "I understand. Thanks for your help, Maggie. You know, I do feel better," I said, and oddly enough, I did. Walking away alone, I considered what I'd done: If Maggie was upset with what she'd learned, and if I'd broken her feelings for me, at least I hadn't done her any harm. But when I left Sappho, a man-hating sister of Stein would know, without question, that Debbie Larranti had loved a woman here, and had been loved in return. When the secret of who I was broke, years from now, as big secrets eventually do, then an older Maggie might look into the night sky and wonder. If Maggie thought I loved some woman named Tyrona, it didn't matter. The true name could stay a secret between the Goddess and me. I didn't want to return to the dance right away, so I walked for a while, ending up behind Henrietta House by the soccer field. Several women in loose blue shorts and white blouses were already there, kicking a few balls around. Soccer had changed very little in a thousand years. The field looked the same except for some extra lines running horizontally to assist the lineswomen and referees for offsides calls and the posts were more resilient and therefore less likely to cause injury. I'd noticed before, from being a Puma fan in Paglia, that the rules were more strictly enforced than I'd remembered on Earth. A ball got away and rolled towards me. My shoes weren't made for gripping the thick grass, but I managed a low, flat drive with my left foot. One of the women, a medium-sized green-eyed brunette in a ponytail, waved to me in thanks. I vaguely recognized her from lunch, but hadn't caught her name. I watched the women at practice for a while, and then returned to the dance. Joanne was back from wherever she had been, although I didn't see Maggie again for an hour or so. Joanne and I danced some more then we split, dancing with some of the women in the two unmarried houses, Henrietta and Madeline. Two things I noted: Maggie avoided me the rest of the day, and Priestess Lana Anther watched everyone, but stared at me. I didn't have a chance to talk to Maggie until close to lights-out and had to wait until Joanne left to take a shower. I caught her lying on the bed, her hands behind her head. "Maggie, are you angry with me?" She rolled over onto her elbow and shook her head. "No. You put me in my place this afternoon, but I deserved it." "You did make me feel better. Thank you." She pulled up the corner of her mouth into a bemused smile. "You're welcome. Debbie, I like you, but I don't think we're compatible - at least not that way. I hope that we're still friends." "Of course, we are." We awoke at 06:00.and joined the line of women for the showers. Next were the prayers, an inspirational recitation of sayings from the founders and more prominent priestesses mainly concerning the inherent goodness of women, the glorification of the Temple, and entreaties to the Goddess to keep us pure. That part went well, but it did feel strange to pray to keep my evil at bay and beg that I be consigned to oblivion. I arrived at the soccer field about fifteen minutes early. Ingrid was already there with a net-bag of equipment, and several other women in shorts and soccer-style shirts stretched or jogging up and down the field with a ball. I inhaled the morning air, filled with the smell of freshly cut grass. I hadn't been on a real field in a real game since my academy days when I played on a club team. Before that, I'd been a captain at the university, on one of the better soccer schools in the North American Republic. For exercise and to test myself after Jezzi and Tyrona had me neutered, I had played a few pick- up games in one of the parks in Paglia and later, scrimmaged at the University of Martina with some of the students. The skills were still there, although they were a little rusty after the years, and I certainly wasn't as strong or quite as fast with my smooth musculature, but I wasn't playing against men anymore. I smiled and raised my hand in greeting as I approached. "Morning, Ingrid." "Ah, yes, Debbie," she said gruffly as she looked me up and down. I'd worn shorts and a loose shirt just in case she didn't have a uniform handy, but I hoped that she had some soccer shoes in my size. The way her eyes tried not to meet mine alerted me first. "Is there something wrong?" She pursed her lips and spat. "I'll just say it. Most o' the girls don't want ye. I told ye I'd try you out, but it'd be a waste o' time. Even if you prove yerself good enough to make the squad, you won't be seein' action." I glanced at the field. Nearly all the players had stopped what they were doing to watch. "I see." I pointed to Ingrid's shirt, one of the uniform tops. Proudly displayed in front was a large brown beaver in the shape of an attractive woman with a large flat tail and big protruding teeth. "If I make the team, would I get one of those?" She sighed. "Don't ye understand? Ye won't play!" "If you don't play me, then that's your decision, but you did offer me a tryout, or are you backsliding on that?" She looked at the ground and then away, giving me the impression that she didn't like the situation any more than I did. "If I give ye a shirt, will ye go away?" I shook my head. "No. I'll either earn it or not have it at all." She gave a good long look to the players, then quickly turned and handed me a pair of shorts and shirt. "Take these and pick out a pair of shoes that fit you. They're in the bag." As I rummaged in the bag for a pair that fit me - I had small feet for a man but a little large for a woman - she tapped me on my shoulder. "I hope yer good, Debbie." I grinned up at her. "We'll see." It all came down to numbers. The North American Republic had nearly 400 million, of which half were men. Sappho had ten million women on the entire planet. After eliminating the upper echelon, the professional leagues, on both worlds, there were the universities and the clubs. I had been a star player on one of the top ten soccer universities in the country with a student body of nearly twenty-five thousand. The farm had about four thousand adult women and carried four teams. None of them were bad, some of the women were very good, and they didn't make it easy, but even with a light coating of rust and not being in perfect soccer shape, I won my Beaver shirt. It had been a light practice that morning for the late afternoon game with Club Mongoose, a mix of married women and a few singles who played with the club rather than for their house. Overall, they were slightly older than us, most being in their late twenties to early thirties. But that meant nothing. We had been favored by most, but had just gone behind 2-1 two minutes before halftime. "Damn!" Ingrid said under her breath, a foul thing to say in conservative Stein. We played a 4-3-3, a fairly common formation on Sappho, and one that depended on the three halfbacks moving forward to help our attack. There was a problem, though. They had to get back on defense. With the normal left wing out, sitting on the bench next to me, our center half, Jillian, probably the second best player on the starting team, had been moved forward. Unfortunately, Jillian's replacement at center half had no feel for the position, and she had been caught forward twice during counter-attacks, trying too hard. That last one had cost us. I filled the silence on the sidelines by whistling Paglia's national anthem. Ingrid glared at me. "Ye think you can do better?" she demanded. "Ye been on the team fer less than a day and already ye know best?" "I have played center half. Dusti is good, but she's not used to the position. Of course," I shrugged, "it's your decision." She snorted. "Just out o' curiosity, what would ye do?" "Move Dusti back to her place as center back, put me in as center half. Genifer is fast enough to get around her defender on the right wing anytime she wants. Sue is our best forward in the middle. If she can draw the defense to the left, then I can set up Genifer for a killer pass from midfield. If it works then she'd have a turn and shoot in front of the goal." "Maybe, but ye would probably have two defenders covering you close. Yer not exactly a secret; others saw ye tryout this mornin'." "The more defenders on me, the more openings for others." Ingrid looked to the woman beside me, a freckle-faced blonde in a thick knee brace. "Tilly, what do ye think, will the others boil me in oil if I let her play?" Her blue eyes gave me a sharp glance before looking up. "Coach, we want t' win with the same players 'at live here." She looked at me again. "No offence, Debbie." "I understand, Tilly. I'll still have my Beaver whatever happens." She nodded. "But, if we don't win today, Coach, we won't be playin' the day after tomorrow, and Debbie is the best player we have - no matter how she came t' be with us." She stared down the two other players on the bench beside her until they both nodded, albeit reluctantly. Ingrid turned to me. "If we're still behind with a half-hour t' go, you move to center half." It was still 2-1 when I entered the game. Dusti went back to her old position at center back and a redhead named Francine, who had been playing pretty well there, angrily left the pitch. Our three forwards stayed Jillian - Sue - Genifer. Sue, in particular, was furious. At the next goal kick, while the ball was being tracked down out of bounds, she and the other two forwards met me at midfield. "Who do ye think ye are?" The short blonde hissed. "Ye come here from Paglia, a high and mighty professor. So, ye want t' play with the farmers," she sneered in a mocking singsong. "I suppose ye think yer gonna win the game for us now." "Why don't we just play soccer and argue about this later?" I replied, more than a little annoyed. "Ye bitch," she snarled. "Now ye think ye can take over..." "Sue, shut yer hole," Genifer answered for me. "This is not the time t' discuss it! She's here. She won her place fair, and we have to get by Club Mongoose t' have a go at Madeline." "But...Oh, all right!" I sneaked Genifer a grateful nod when Sue wasn't looking. "Very well," I said. "Their defense is a little slow and they're all over Sue. Sue, try to take at least two defenders with you. Jillian, Genifer, I'll be looking for end runs." "So, I'm to be yer decoy, am I? Is this my 'punishment' fer speakin' up, ye arrogant..." "If I see you open, Sue, I'll try to get you the ball." I shook my head. "I'm a little disappointed. I thought that you and I might be compatible." She dropped her jaw and Jillian slapped her on the back. "Come on, Sue, lets get back t' the game. We can work out who'll be on top later." In soccer it rarely works out exactly as planned. I did get it to Genifer on an end run, but she put it over the bar. I found Sue in the middle and she somehow squeezed it between two defenders to score in the left corner. Then I slipped a ball to Jillian just inside the box. Instead of taking the difficult shot, she back passed to my left halfback in stride, and she powered a shot into the upper corner just out of reach of their diving keeper with three minutes left. We held on to win 3-2. Jillian and Genifer hugged me after the game, and that was nice, but when Sue kissed me in front of half of Henrietta House, I counted it among the most satisfying soccer moments I'd ever had. I didn't get back to the room until about 8:00 that evening. Maggie was out somewhere, but Joanne was inside in her nightgown, sitting cross- legged on her bed in front of her portable computer. She waved at me when I came through the door. "Great game, Debbie!" "You were there? I didn't see you." "I didn't get there until halfway through the first half. I was behind a pack of screaming Henrietta fans. Maggie was there, too. I'm glad you played. I was beginning to wonder." I collapsed onto my bed and stretched out on my stomach, propping my chin up with my elbows. "I almost didn't play. I wouldn't have blamed them if they had me sit out the whole game; they are a very tight-knit team and I was a latecomer. But when they accepted me in the end - wow." "I saw the center forward kiss you." I smiled, losing focus for a while. "There's nothing like kissing a hot, sweaty teammate after a close game. Sue is nice once you get to know her. She was angry with me earlier, partly, I found out later, because Coach Ingrid took out her girlfriend when I came in. They know I'm leaving soon, but for the time being, they decided that I'm family. It's hard to express it; they let me inside. I've been on tight teams before, but this is different, this intense - closeness." A familiar sensation welled up inside, and this time I didn't try to fight it - I just let it roll. "Debbie, are you crying?" she asked me in amazement. "Yes, Joanne, I am! And, you know what? I couldn't care less." "So? Cry all you want." She straightened and adopted a more serious tone. "Madeline House isn't happy about you; I heard some of the people talking in the crowd. The way you played today was like you came down from a higher league." "It wasn't just me; I thought the entire team lifted their game." "Spoken like a true team player. But I've watched the Pumas enough to see what happened. You controlled the midfield, stymied their offense, and made crisp, accurate passes to where they could do the most good. I've never played much soccer, but it must have been fun to be on the front line today." "Thanks, and thanks for the warning." We had a light practice the next afternoon. The team was in high spirits and laughing, but Madeline was a good, experienced team. They'd defeated Club Dactyl 5-0 in the game just before ours and had looked like they'd been cruising. In fact, Madeline was one of the best amateur teams in Stein and had surely expected to waltz to the local title, but the talk around was that they were the slightest bit worried, whereas we had nothing to lose - a prescription for an upset. After we'd been through the drills, I showed Dusti a few things about playing my position, showing her what went wrong when she'd played center half and what she should have done, when Ingrid pulled me aside. "Debbie, don't stare, but d'ye see those two behind me?" she asked me quietly. I looked past her casually. Two powerful women in shorts and sunglasses, a shorthaired blonde and a brunette with a ponytail, sipped drinks in lounge chairs about twenty meters away. "Sure, Coach." Her blue eyes watched me very closely. "Blondie is their manager. The one wi' the tail is their team captain. The only player they're watchin' today is you." "You're going to tell me that they aren't just two doms looking for a new fem." She smiled ever so slightly. "Just watch yer back. Yer not from here. To some that means a different set o' rules." I nodded. "I'll remember, Ingrid." We arrived early about a half-hour before the game, scheduled to start 4:00. It was the first time I had a look at the Madeline Muskrats, or, as they were better known, the 'Muskies.' My first impression was their size. Their ages were a mix, but most were of the same stock: large thighs, but more athletic and strong than over-muscled, and generally tall. They played a balanced 3-4-3 and their forwards were fast, with their center forward the shortest member of the pack but quick on her feet with fine ball control - their best scorer and a close match for our Sue. The pair closest to me in midfield worried me. They both outweighed me by twenty pounds of solid muscle. They would be difficult to push off the ball and seemed fast enough. In fact I didn't see any position where we matched up better physically. Their uniforms were black shorts and blood-red socks and tops. Even their mascot looked mean. The muskrat on their shirts was black with deep red eyes and exaggerated teeth bared in a nasty grin. The way they smirked at us in general, supremely confident, and sneering at me in particular, made me want to wipe away those smug expressions in the worst way. But Ingrid wasn't about to let the team get too wrapped up thinking about it. "All right!" she yelled, clapping her hands to get our attention "Yes, they're big and fast, but we're as fast, and they're beatable if