Sappho Conclusion free porn video

Conclusion: There were no red or blue alarms to greet my arrival into the universe of the fully alive. As the fluid drained away and I coughed the rest from my lungs, I turned to see the vid above the consol showing the familiar stars of Sappho and the planet below, mostly in darkness. Vicky had been considerate, making sure I knew where I was before I had to ask. This was my world now and my wife was down there somewhere. All I had to do was find her. "Morning, Vicky!" "Good morning, Debbie. We're hiding a kilometer above Xena, currently in orbit above the hemisphere opposite the Sappho landmass." It was a good place to arrive. There was nothing on that entire side of the planet except endless ocean. "We made it through undetected?" "As far as I can tell." "Good." I hadn't looked forward to explaining my presence to the powers- that-be down below. After a long shower, I dressed in a jumpsuit; there was work to do. I had to know what was happening. My information from the arrivals from Sappho was now eighteen standard years out of date, and it had been twenty-eight since the time I'd last been there. Xena was a typical small moon, about a hundred kilometers long and fifty wide, shaped vaguely like a rough brick smashed on one side. Orbiting at 2,000 km above Sappho, it didn't rotate; like Earth's moon, the same face was always presented towards the planet, but it did have a gentle oscillation like a rolling tub in the ocean. Vicky's landing capacity was severely limited; she was first and foremost a creature of deep space, but she had three spindly legs to handle low gravity. At less than .01G, Xena qualified, and Vicky, compensating for her sideways roll easily, set her down on the backside facing away from Sappho. Under dim starlight, I hopped from the airlock with a pair of line-of- sight relays. We'd landed near the edge of the moon in a deep crater, close to a high ridge that extended over the end of it. I bounded up the face, jumping a dozen meters at a time, and planted a relay there at the summit, then stepped over the peak, skipping in the fine regolith a couple of kilometers to the next peak, the one looking down on Sappho, where the land mass just now coming into view. I jumped over that peak to the other side, being a little more careful - the gravity was less on the moon's edge - and planted the final unit, a small dish and long- range optical scanner, aligning it to point straight down towards the planet. "Vicky, how is the communications link?" "The placement is satisfactory, Debbie. I'm picking up a number of transmissions from Woolf and Paglia, mostly news and entertainment shows. There are three Sappho-synchronous satellites coming into range above us, one more than the last time we were here. If the new one is monitoring Xena, the sun will make a brilliant reflection from my hull in less than thirty minutes." "Right, Vicky. I'm returning now." I bounded over the side, skipping and leaping the gray-brown depressions and craters in airless silence, the swiftly rising sun just beginning to add long black shadows to the bleak landscape. Low gravity makes some things easier - like camouflaging spaceships. I jumped to the top of Vicky's hull and threw the mottled gray material in all directions, temporarily disguising Vicky's shape and dulling her gleaming surface. I ducking under the covering, I returned through the airlock inside, where Vicky had already set up a few split-screen vids of what looked like local news and all-night stations. After pulling off my spacesuit, I shook my hair free, getting comfortable for what looked to be a long day of information gathering and getting a feel for what was going on below us. I selected a few vids at random. # A stylized green and tan picture of the southeast continent filled with numbers and blinking weather icons. A perky young woman's voice came to life in the background: "...today will be bright and sunny in Paglia City, the one hundred and forty-second consecutive day with sunshine. Good news for the Equinox Festival; we expect a southeasterly breeze of five to ten knots - perfect weather to toast those buns and rub oil all over that favorite woman..." # A panel of three women on split screen: the larger picture containing the host, an attractive brunette in her late forties with strikingly intelligent features. She wore a dom-style gray business coat and sheer blouse with a slight frill down the center - a style I'd never seen before. She looked straight ahead while an older woman in a conservative black robe moved her hand dismissively across her portion of the screen. "All I'm saying that we should be a little more careful who we bring to our lovely planet. All these new ideas, foreign ways, some of this new technology - do we really need it?" The other woman, a fiery short-haired blonde with a prominent nose broke in, speaking in a faintly mocking voice, "Surely you aren't speaking of discrimination already, Dr. Toynbee? Some of the Earth women have already contributed..." # A scene in old Woolf, in a garden just outside a picturesque castle of tall, sturdy towers where pennants of blue and gold flapped in the breeze. A beautiful girl in long raven tresses and brilliant blue eyes, wearing a shimmering white full-length dress, met her tall, dom lover, a startling blonde with sharp, clear gray eyes. The dom wore a flowing orange tunic with a rose insignia and mail over impressive breasts, and a gleaming saber in a black scabbard hung low on her womanly hips. She brought the girl to her lips passionately. The girl allowed her a kiss, but then turned away abruptly, weeping into her hands. "What's wrong, Gwendolyn?" the dom asked her gently, her eyes filling with concern and longing. She reached forward to grasp her shoulder, taking it in her slim sun-browned hand, roughened with calluses earned on the practice field and in battle. Turning, the girl could barely look up. A close up revealed a terrible inner struggle. "Lady, if I have offended..." The tall blonde backed away and bowed gracefully, but her steel gray eyes remained affixed to her love, leaving no doubt where her heart lay; she wanted the girl with every dom fiber in her body. The black-haired beauty rushed forward and took her hand, kissing it as if her soft fem lips could mend the heartbreak she knew would come. "Beatrice, you could never offend me," she assured her. "It's my mother's kin. They want me to..." # "Debbie, I have net access," Vicky announced. "Right." I snapped open the keyboard at the console, and Vicky replaced the vid programs with someone's private page. The interface looked about the same as it did before. I had no idea how long this stolen link would remain active, so I quickly ran a search for Indira Albright. There was little except a dozen decades-old reports of her disappearance - and two small stories dated within the last couple of years. The first link was to a report from two years ago. A young reporter in a fem business skirt and conservative blouse, her blue eyes dancing with excitement like enchanted pearls, stood just outside the main hall of Indira's mother's castle, obviously lying in wait. "Indira Albright disappeared twenty-four years ago, leaving only a recorded message that she would return," she said conspiratorially to the camera. "One week ago, the heir to Chesler Castle did exactly that, reappearing as suddenly as she left. But even that, as strange as it is, doesn't compare to the way she returned. For Indira Albright doesn't seem to have aged a day." The reporter turned at some cue from behind the camera and hustled up the steps to meet Indira, who had just stepped outside wearing a semi- formal gown of iridescent blue and black. Indira hesitated when she saw the younger woman approach, but managed a tolerant smile. "Ms. Albright! Hanna Pour from Martina Bay. What happened Ms. Albright? Where have you been for the past twenty-four years?" My heart lodged in my throat, and tears rolled down my cheeks. Indira looked the same - except for an air of unbearable sadness. "I've been around," she replied easily in that familiar calm tone I'd longed to hear for three subjective years. "I've done nothing illegal, immoral or unethical. The important thing is that I have returned and won't be leaving again. With the death of my older sister, I plan to live in the castle and assist my mother, the Duchess." She started to turn away. "Ms. Albright!" the reporter called, halting Indira's progress back toward the hall. "Your appearance. You don't appear to have aged a day. There has been speculation that you stayed in a hibernation pod." She shrugged as if it meant less than nothing. "How else? No more questions," she said simply, but added directness that gave it the force of a command. This time, when she turned away, the reporter let her go. The second link was a brief mention dated a few months ago in a local O'Donnell paper in Paglia. More in the nature of a gossip column, a "Where are they now?" piece rather than a news event, it showed a picture of my Indira in a Paglia beach club with her arm around a devastating blonde in her early twenties. Her name, according to the article, was Tiffany Hemmingway, and Woolf royalty in her own right. I'd expected Indira to see other people; it had been too long, but seeing it was a knife turning in my gut. They looked far too happy together. There was no other news, very unlikely for a royal heir unless someone, likely the Duchess or the Queen, specifically ordered a news blackout. But someone would know what was going on. I keyed in the address of Joanne Minkster and Bethany Orlando. There I had better luck. They were still married and lived in a house near the coast in upper Martina. Bethany had made Captain according to the Marine Registry and Joanne had a few mentions in technical papers over the years. I downloaded what I could about them, and then grabbed general news for the last twenty years. "Debbie, we're losing the signal," Vicky warned. "We'll be in range again in 75 minutes." "Thanks, Vicky. I have everything I need for now." *** Burying my head deep in recent history kept me from thinking about Indira. Things had remained roughly the same in Paglia and Stein. As expected, Tyrona had taken over Jezzi's place as Executive Directress, the old buzzard having retired ten years ago. Woolf had a new queen, Queen Danae, Queen Denise's daughter. The arrival of the Earth women had sealed the doom of what remained of the old Temple. Nonetheless, man-hatred had died hard, and even now, remnants of the institution, aged and bitter women, mainly, pointed their skinny, gnarled fingers at certain events in man's violent past, screeching, "See! See! If we missed on a few details, we were still right. We rarely killed anyone and ruled our sacred land with love and affection!" But Stein had passed them by. A new government had taken shape, more representative than Paglia's socialist bureaucracy or Woolf's monarchy, founded on records of the most successful society in the pre-Diaspora, the ancient forerunner to the Republic of North America. Stein's economic might now rivaled Woolf and Paglia's combined and, for the first time in many centuries, immigrants outnumbered emigrants. I couldn't be dispassionate or objective anymore. For better or worse, this was my world now and these were my people. Joanne, Bethany, Dusti, Maggie, and even Tyrona were my sisters - although didn't know it yet. "Vicky, have you updated the maps on Woolf?" "Yes, Debbie. There are a few changes, but not many, consistent with a population-controlled world." I smiled. "You know, this is your world, too." "Yes, Debbie. I hope you don't allow your euphoria to shout that fact in the streets. You are a citizen of Paglia. Paglia law allows the government to nationalize any asset, such as a DK series scout ship. I judge this a near certainty, considering who the Executive Directress is." I frowned. "True. Well, I wasn't planning on going anywhere near Paglia for the time being. It's just another reason to keep out of sight. Vicky, I need a place to land in the very early morning - preferably close to north Martina, say within ten kilometers of Joanne's house. I'd also need a place to hide the lander." "Analyzing now, Debbie. There are three possible locations within that range. The best would be on a local road with a turn-off to a grotto by a rock cliff, a classic setting for hard camouflage. Telemetry indicates the grotto hasn't been used for years." "Traffic patterns, Vicky?" "I'll know more in a few more passes, especially later tonight." I nodded. "All right. I'll check the net for anything I can think of that might be dangerous or useful, but unless something important pops up, I plan to go down late tonight." "I advise caution, Debbie. A day or two delay might be advisable." "Possibly, but the information I need is probably on the ground. And..." I sighed. "I admit it, Vicky. I worry about Indira; I want to see her as soon as possible." Making final preparations to descend to the planet, I fueled the lander, modified a few Sappho outfits to the latest styles, and manufactured a fake Woolf driver's license in the small workshop. Money was a problem, but I had enough old Sappho credits to stay afloat for several days if necessary. A search on Debbie Larranti yielded reams of data: news articles of my appearance, Debbie sightings all over Sappho, and interviews with women who had talked to me - about half being mistaken or outright frauds. Decades old books had been written, most with not-so-very complimentary synopses: "The Man Among Us," "Animal or Human," "The Larranti Effect," and one much kinder book written in the past year, David/Debbie: The true biography of Debbie Larranti." with a split picture of me before and after, written in collaboration with one of the Earth women who, thinking ahead, did some research before boarding the ship to Sappho. An insert even had a decent picture of me in my dress blue Scout uniform. So, my face was known. That was awkward, but not surprising, nor likely dangerous, since I was supposed to be dead. But to be on the safe side, I did what any woman might have done: I dyed my black hair light brown, restyled it into a ponytail, put in green contacts, and planned on wearing sunglasses whenever possible. The time had come. The sun had long since set on Woolf and I'd packed everything I needed in the lander hours before. The next time our low orbit took us to the watery side of Sappho, I went outside for a moment and yanked the camouflage from Vicky's hull, returning inside to enter the lander. Vicky lifted off, dropping me a few meters to the surface, legs extended. In the negligible gravity, the lander barely bumped, its flexible legs absorbing the shock easily. Vicky found her niche under a nearby ledge and I re-covered her side with the camouflage. In the blade-sharp shadow of space, she could barely be seen from the side, much less through solid rock. Vicky could stay there for years, even centuries and never be spotted. Hands on hips, I nodded. "Looking good, Vicky. I'll send you three pulses on the handset if everything is all right when I get down. I won't be calling too much. If they're suspicious, they might track the signal back to you." "I understand, Debbie. Don't take any more chances than necessary." "I'll do my best. Believe me, I don't want to start any trouble." Climbing in my seat, which I'd since modified for my wider hips, I strapped myself in and performed a final check. Everything was green. I hit the lower pitch and roll thrusters, which kicked me up in the moon's tiny gravity, then fired a short burst from the main rockets. A minute later I'd cleared Xena. Turned around and fired the forward thrusters to slow me down enough to begin the long fall, and gave a last look to Xena, passing on above me. I was going home. This time as I plummeted through the night sky, I had few worries. The fuel was fresh and powerful after eight years, enough to give me considerable maneuvering, allowing me to skim the black waters as I approached Martina. I boosted above the ocean cliffs to the north and prepared a glide path to the isolated road Vicky had found. As I closed to less than one hundred meters above the narrow road, I spotted a pair of lights heading towards me, but they were past me in a flash. Seconds later the wheels kissed the asphalt and I applied the brakes, slowing down rapidly from two hundred kph to fifty. I found the turn-off with the night vision and turned, using the taxi motors in the rear wheels to roll the final two hundred meters of winding gravel road, over road debris and through small overhanging branches, all the way to a remote section of rock behind an isolated cluster of trees. I lifted the canopy and jumped down to the soil of my world. After trading the spacesuit for a pair of comfortable shorts, blouse, and sturdy walking shoes, I leaned in and pulled everything from behind my seat, laying it on the ground. Tossing several bushy branches on my craft and to its side to distort its sleek outline, I spread a tarp over the lander, then sprayed it completely with special foam, a gray mix that would simulate a boulder when it dried in a few hours. It wouldn't pass a close ground inspection, but would do the job from the air. By now it was close to 3:00 and Vicky would be in range. I keyed the handset, pulsing three times, and received back three acknowledging beeps. After shrugging into my backpack, I checked the compass. According to Vicky's map, a trail leading south wasn't more than a few hundred meters due east. I toyed with idea of walking to the road instead of ducking and weaving through brush and trees at night, but decided against it; I didn't want to risk being seen. Besides, it was a wonderful, warm Sappho night. It was far enough from the city to see the stars and nebula clearly, and I took a deep breath of fresh Sappho air, inhaling its unique fragrance, so different from the canned and filtered air of the ship. I gave my compass a last look and started off slowly through the trees. There was no rush and it wouldn't do to arrive mussed and dirty. Joanne and Bethany's house perched just thirty meters from a cliff overlooking the ocean, the last in a line on Forecastle Road, a historic street where many of Woolf's sea captains had lived. Like so many other older houses in Martina, it was built of thick stone, fitted and mortared, and solid enough to withstand hurricanes. I arrived at the break of dawn in this remote northwestern corner on Martina. Two cars were in the driveway, and a light shone in the window in front where ordinary sounds of running water and clanking pans presaged breakfast. My stomach, half-tied into knots, from nervousness, produced a grumble. There was no easy way to mitigate the shock, so I simply un-slung my backpack, leaning it against my leg, and rapped on the front door. An exclamation and muttering sounds came from within, and then the approach of light and fast feet. The outdoor light flicked into life and the door opened halfway. A young woman, her light brown hair pulled back efficiently, looked down at me while rubbing her hands on her apron. "Hello, what can I do for you?" she asked, eyeing my backpack curiously. I smiled in relief. Despite the address I'd pulled from the net, it had been a fear of mine that maybe Joanne and Bethany had moved or were on vacation, but I would have recognized those blue eyes anywhere. "My name is Debbie and I'm an old friend of your mother, from Paglia. Is she home?" Before she could say anything, someone else came into the room. "Deborah, who is it?" Deborah shrugged comically and moved out of the way to her see for herself. Joanne wasn't the same woman at fifty-eight that she'd been at thirty. Her blonde hair had gray in it, and crow's-feet and other wrinkles marked the passage of years, but from the smile lines, they hadn't been unhappy ones. "Hello, Joanne," I said. "It's been a long time." She walked forward uncertainly, her head cocked to the side. As she came closer, she scanning me up and down, recognizing me in a sense, but unsure, and no wonder, the last she'd heard, I was below ground. "Believe it, Joanne. It's me, Debbie, and I've come back for Indira. May I come in?" Her eyes widened. "That's impossible. You're..." Her face grew pale, and she reached for the door to steady herself. The door moved and she went sideways, nearly falling. I rushed inside and slid an arm around her waist, just beating her daughter to the rescue. "Dead?" I grinned from a few inches away. "Not quite. Goddess, it's good to see you." I moved in and kissed her cheek. The sweet scent of her hair hadn't changed. Deborah stared at me and pointed. "You're...?" Joanne nodded weakly, then managed to stand up straight again, recovering some of her color. She looked between the two of us and waved her hand from one side to the other. "Deborah, meet your namesake, Debbie Larranti." "Nice to meet you, Deborah." I hugged her daughter in a Sappho greeting. Deborah's embrace was confused and hesitant, but I certainly couldn't fault her for that. Joanne turned to me, eyes darting from side to side and up and down, taking in details of my face and the way I was dressed, as yet uncertain how to react. "Debbie, by the Goddess, how did you get here? Has Earth's policy changed?" "Sappho is still off-limits; I had a heck of a time getting away. I had to renounce my Earth citizenship, and nearly stole Vicky to get here." She lifted her hand, almost touching my cheek. "Indira and now you, the timeless ones," she breathed. "You've been gone twenty-eight years, yet you look only a few years older than my daughter." Biting her lip, she advanced into my arms with a soft cry and drew me to her, holding me like a long lost relative - a popular one. "Joanne," I said into her ear, "there's so much I want to talk about: you, Bethany, your daughters - but someone else in particular." I pulled back to get a better look at her. "It's been a long time. Joanne, how is my wife?" She winced the tiniest bit. "You have to understand. Indira...we thought you were dead, everybody did." I shrugged, but it did hurt to be reminded of it. "Yes, I know that she's been seeing other women. I can hardly blame her. I just want to know how she's doing, and to see her as soon as possible." "Debbie, I haven't spoken to her in months. I don't what she's doing right now." Deborah started and mother and daughter exchanged the briefest glance. "I haven't seen her in months," Joanne repeated. "Has she remarried?" I asked hesitantly, looking hard at her. At the quick shake of her head, I sagged in relief. "Thank the Goddess for that! I saw on the net that she'd been seen with someone named Tiffany." Joanne looked up sharply at the name. "That's true, Tiffany Hemmingway is the second daughter of the Countess. How long have you been on Sappho?" I checked my watch. "About four hours. I just entered Sappho space yesterday morning." She smiled, and there was a piece of the old Joanne - perhaps a bit more measured than before. "How easily you say that," she marveled, "as if you'd just returned from a trip to Paglia. You look tired. Did you get any sleep?" I laughed a little and spread my hands. "How could I sleep? I've been worried about what I'd find here for years." She nodded firmly. "Lets have breakfast then," she decided. "We'll talk and then you can get some sleep." She took my hand like I was one of hers and led me inside the kitchen. I told my story of my last year on Earth, an overview, leaving out the problems with the femederol and Richard, showing her some vids clips and stills of Earth, the Spaceport and my trip around the sun, some from vids that Vicky had recorded. Then it was Joanne's turn. You can't fill-in twenty-eight standard years in a couple of hours. The best anyone can do is to cover the highlights. Joanne had Deborah two years after she and Bethany married. A year later Bethany gave birth to her daughter, Margo. The pictures of a life unfolded on a vid projector: a much younger Joanne playing on the floor with a blonde little girl and a toddler with straight black hair; Bethany and Joanne on vacation years later, both girls now in late single digits; Bethany at her first command in dress blues and white, proud and waving from the deck of a freighter; school, gymnastics, singing, a play, Margo's first date - a cute red-headed fem vixen, college, graduation... It was a short lifetime of experiences told with smiles, pride, a distant gleam that meant powerful memories, and love. This was the same Joanne I'd known but different, too, affected by decades of motherhood and marriage. Small, familiar glances between mother and daughter, two women who had a bond deeper than anything I could have known with my old friend, made the gulf that much more evident. This was Joanne deep down but out of focus. The Academy had a term for it: Temporally Distorted Associations. The veteran Scouts who experienced it after long missions just called it Too Damn Alien. There was going to an adjustment - there had to be - and not just on my side. After a short lifetime of experience, I probably looked as strange to her as she did to me. At least those years that separated us were good ones. I sat back, both satisfied and tired; the lack of sleep had just about caught up with me. "You've had a great life, Joanne." She looked at me askance. "You know, I do intend to live a little longer." I chuckled, placing my hand on her arm. "Sure. Where are Bethany and your other daughter now?" "Bethany is on her ship about halfway to Stein. Margo has her own apartment in Etheridge. Deborah is just here to keep her ancient mother company." Deborah smiled, shaking her head indulgently. "Oh, Mom." "Debbie, you look exhausted," Joanne stated. I nodded. "I am." "Then come to bed." She rose from her seat at the table. I made no protest and followed her to my feet. She took my hand like a child and led me up the stairs to Margo's old room, bringing up my backpack with her. She kissed me on the cheek as she left me at the doorway. "I'll wake you up in a few hours, then we'll see about getting hold of Indira." "Joanne, thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you." "Knowing you, you'd find a way, but I'm glad I can help. We'll talk in a few hours." I took a fast shower, deciding my hair was still clean enough after a good brushing. After putting on a fresh pair of underwear and a nightshirt from my backpack, I slipped into bed and fell asleep almost immediately. *** My dreams were of Indira and I awoke wondering why she was shaking me. A sleepy eyelid lifted and the eye underneath spotted a hand with a cup of coffee. Following it back and further up was the rest of Joanne. "It's two o'clock. Time to get up," my former monitor said. I nodded sleepily and drew back the covers, slowly swinging my legs over the side. "Right," I yawned, and took the cup of coffee from her hand with a grateful nod. "Is Indira still staying at the castle?" I asked as I took a sip of the potent brew. She regarded me. "As far as I know. Debbie, we have to talk." I looked up. "Is something wrong? Did you talk to her?" She sighed. "No, I couldn't get through. Let me explain something, Debbie. You need to know what happened after Indira came out of the pod. "You have to understand that Indira and I aren't as close as we used to be, and we were never that close to begin with. When she came out of the hibernation pod two years ago, only to hear that you had been killed - well, she didn't take it well," she said, looking away for a second. "Indira returned to her mother's castle," Joanne continued. "She didn't want to be reminded of the past, so she avoided me. And her mother is certainly no friend of mine; after she'd found out what I'd done with the pod and her daughter, she was angry enough to throw me in jail." She smiled and touched my knee. "It wouldn't have happened - Indira would have stopped her, naturally. Besides, pods back then weren't against the law. With the death of her older sister, Indira became the heir to the castle and had to take on a new responsibility. Indira pledged to marry and produce an heir." 'Why on Sappho did I ever think this would be easy?' I thought. "Are you saying that Indira and Tiffany are engaged?" "Yes." I took a deep breath. "All right. I don't like that, but it's not unexpected. I'll just see her. I'll just give her a call today and meet her. It's what I was going to do anyway. Besides, she can't get married if I tell the registry in Woolf that I'm here. We're still married." I took another sip of coffee. A nervous twitch in the corner of her mouth dismissed that fantasy in a hurry. "Debbie, you've been gone for twenty-eight years and dead for two. But even being dead doesn't matter. Officially, you two were never married. All data has been expunged from the system." I pointed to the backpack. "I have a copy of the registry, and despite the wishes of a few, I'm very much alive." She looked down at me, exasperated, pulling her hair back through her fingers in the old way. "Debbie, somehow, I don't think that copy is going to make a difference with these people! Indira is supposed to be married tomorrow at noon in a private ceremony in the main temple downtown." Goddess. "All right," I said, very deliberately keeping my voice calm. "That's very bad, but Joanne, if I just talk to Indira, surely..." Joanne shook her head. "I tried to get a hold of Indira this morning after you went to sleep. I couldn't get through to her. Her social secretary sent me a note that she was unavailable. I'd mentioned in my message that it was critical, but I don't think she believed me. She refused to even pass on a message. I tried again before I made the coffee and this time I was ignored. Actually, I'm not too surprised. A royal bride is often deliberately incommunicado to pray or contemplate her life for a day or so before her wedding, only showing up for the actual ceremony before the Priestess." I stood up and started pacing, using my hands to punctuate my frustration. "This is ridiculous!" I stopped. "Very well, then. I'll just drive to the castle and show Indira's ring to someone who'll recognize it. That will prove I'm alive. They'll tell Indira and this mess will be over." "You'd just be arrested on some pretense - as an imposter, disturbing a royal function, whatever, at least until after the wedding and maybe longer. You're supposed to be dead, Debbie; it would be making it easy for them." "By the Goddess, Joanne, why?" I cried. "Do people hate me that much?" She swept me into her arms and held me close, her right hand smoothing my hair. "No, Debbie," she said tenderly. "You, or rather, the memory of you is far more popular now than it ever was; you're even something of a heroine in Stein - but not with the Duchess or the rest of the royalty, especially now. Try to see it from their point of view. What would happen if you just showed up at the castle? How would they look at you? "Tiffany is a beautiful young fem, popular, and of royal blood; a perfect match for Indira. A marriage to her would also keep the bloodlines pure. You, on the other hand, are an unknown, an ex-man of dubious quality, a very suspicious character, and a known troublemaker. When the old Duchess dies, you would be the wife of the Duchess of Chesler, traditionally the second most powerful woman in Stein. To have to look up to you would be a bitter pill to swallow for many. Yes, Debbie, the royalty would go far to keep you away from Indira." The memory of Queen Denise's troops as they kept Indira from me at Mauresmo field burned in my mind, and I broke the embrace, holding Joanne at arms length. "The royalty already stole her from me once; they won't do it again," I snarled, glaring at her. "The royalty can kiss my ass!" She smiled. "I'd forgotten how passionate you were. And you two always loved each other so much. I'd forgotten that, too, or maybe I just never really knew. Debbie, you can't dismiss the royalty so easily. They're very protective of who they let in to this exclusive club." I snorted. "Ironic, isn't it? What are the odds that Indira's older sister would die without issue? I don't want to in and they want to keep me out, and yet we can't come to an agreement." Then I laughed. "Goddess. The solution is so simple. I'll just tell the press who I am!" But Joanne just looked at me sadly. "Debbie, what planet are you on? Who do you think controls the press in Woolf?" "Damn!" I slid down to the bed and folded my hands in my lap, silent for a time. "You know, Joanne, I thought Reni was bad, but you make her seem like a gibbering optimist. All right!" I exclaimed, slapping my hands to my thighs. Enough whining. There must be a half-dozen ways to see Indira, or to at least get her a message. Joanne, will you help me?" She sat beside me and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. "You know I will." *** Joanne drove me to the castle in the late afternoon. Deborah was nearly my size, just a tad larger in the hips and, with the help of a handy stitch gun, I'd been encased in a gown of yellow silk with white trim about the base and front. The ensemble hung over an under dress that caused it to bounce slightly with any harsh motion, forcing me to move gracefully and smoothly. I considered myself fortunate to get inside. Chesler Castle had provided for friends and subjects to pay one's respects, and I joined a line of ladies with gifts of flowers, incense, and bright ribbons with proverbs and blessings. Once through the portcullis, I looked for a chance to depart the orderly procession, which led to the side of the main hall, where a huge array of color and scents marked the end of our pilgrimage. But I was disappointed. Guards in freshly pressed tunics of green and red stood at ease, lining the white rope guides at five-meter intervals. Anyone leaving that line would have been rounded up like a stray sheep within seconds. Most women simply lay their gift on the ground or table, curtseyed, performed the triangle, and left, talking and laughing among themselves on the way out. When the time came, I placed my flowers with several others, taking my time and making sure I was close to a guard I judged friendly. She stood by the display, about my size, with an affable expression, light complexioned and amiably endowed with freckles. "Beautiful day," I said to her, inhaling the flowers and incense beside me, and smiling as if having a conversation with one's guard was the most natural thing in the world. "I have a special present for Indira Albright, but I didn't want to just lay it with the other offerings." Before she could protest, I handed her the ring I'd bought for Indira wrapped in a hundred credits. Her smile disappeared. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. I continued to smile. "I want to give her this ring. It has special meaning for her. I assure you, she would be quite happy to see it before she gets married." She unwrapped the money and read the inscription inside the ring, "Be my guide. Love, Debbie." She handed the whole thing back to me without expression. "You're lucky I don't want to make a scene. I know your kind: sick women infatuated with royalty. I won't spoil this celebration with your arrest if you leave now." Her green eyes narrowed and her lips curled in distaste. Pointing towards the exit with her chin, she growled low and threateningly, "Now get out," giving me the distinct impression that one more word would be my undoing. I nodded and walked stiffly away, slinking away through the corridor of decorative ropes. I hated the feeling. Indira was somewhere inside, probably within a hundred meters, but it might as well have been a thousand kilometers. Making a move would only cost me my freedom. Joanne patted my shoulder when I returned to the car. My glum expression had said it all. "There's tomorrow," she said. "We'll think of something." "I'm sure we will. Do you mind if we go see the Temple, Joanne?" "Of course." The temple stood out like a beacon in the center of downtown. Martina's edifice to the Goddess was a white marble structure perhaps fifty meters long and thirty wide, with thick columns in front and to the sides supporting a ceramic tile roof of gleaming gray. The front doors were enormous, polished oak and silver five meters tall and three wide apiece, and brushed glass cathedral windows on all sides allowed diffuse light inside at any time of day, while at night the interior lights made the building a glowing spiritual lantern, projecting soft calm onto the surrounding lawn, and fountains. It was closed now, locked and guarded by a few Temple guards of red and white, their colors and style reminding me a little of the security forces in Stein. Joanne drew a rough outline of the Temple with a pen and paper as we sat outside the front on a marble bench by a fountain and pool. "Debbie, there have been a few of these weddings in the past twenty years or so. Royal marriages have traditionally been performed here; I've even been to a couple and can describe nearly everything that went on." She paused, glancing at the two guards at the front door. "Unfortunately, this one will be a little different." "Why?" "The secrecy and the private ceremony. There's been nearly a news blackout on Indira since she left the pod in our basement. The secrecy is probably due to the Duchess wanting to keep Indira from the public eye - only she and the Queen have that power - but the private ceremony has to be pure Indira. First royal marriages have always been open to the public. Despite the official line that you two were never married, Indira is making a statement to Woolf: that this not her first marriage." "Thank the Goddess for that. At least I know she still has a place in her heart for me." She smiled. "Never doubt that. Actually what she's doing is scandalous. People have been speculating about whom was she was married to before since the marriage was announced. But this private ceremony makes it harder for us." She started drawing. "There are six entrances: two on each side, which should all be closed, and one in the front and back. The front should be the entrance and exit for the visitors: the representatives of Stein and Paglia and the local royalty. The rear will be the entrance for the royal couple, the priestesses and the immediate family." "I take it that the royal couple will be guarded heavily." Joanne nodded. "You take it right. I haven't been inside to a private wedding, of course, never having been invited, but I've heard it described. Limousines carrying the intended will ride up to the back door flanked by a protective barrier of guard vehicles, really more for privacy than security. The royal couple will walk inside and assemble before the priestess. They will speak the vows and the ring bearers for each family will present the rings. When the rings seal the marriage, the priestess declares them married. The pair will then emerge through the front as a married couple. It's nearly as fast as that." I ran my hand through my hair nervously. "Goddess. All right. How about signs? I could plant several along the roads with some personal message like, 'Your wife is alive' or 'Vickie and Debbie are back' and I'm at some location." "Nice idea, but the last time a private ceremony was held the limo's were blacked out. A sign would likely just get you arrested. And who would believe it? It would sound cruel. Besides, the advance party would probably clear any such message away." "I wish I could just fly the lander overhead as they arrived," I mused. "Those rockets are loud; that would make a statement. Only problem is I wouldn't know what time they'd be coming. How about if I were to run to the temple with a sledgehammer, break in, and just show up inside? That would get some attention." She gave me a curious look. "Well, that's an audacious plan! That glass has survived over four hundred years and is very thick. I doubt you could break in with anything short of explosives. And have you given a thought to how you would sneak across a guarded lawn with a sledgehammer?" "Well, do you have any better ideas?" I demanded. I pointed to her drawing. "You show me impenetrable security, a temple that's built like a fortress, a whole country that would arrest me if they knew who I was. Goddess! You should hear the ideas I don't tell you: rocket attacks, shooting out the tires, impersonating a guard ..." I lowered my head. "Oh, Debbie," she said sympathetically. "When was the last time you haven't worried about Indira?" "It's been a long time," I sighed. I stood up and smoothed my dress, which was beginning to bunch up. "If I can't stop the wedding while it's going on then I need to stop it before it starts. Is there a guest list, and do you know where they are staying?" "The royal guest list is the royal family in the valley and one or two outside of it. We wouldn't want to talk to them. As far as guests from Paglia and Stein are concerned - hmm, I don't know - they're probably in town somewhere." She looked up. "I think I could find out. There aren't that many first class hotels in Martina and I could probably narrow it down with a few calls." "Joanne, am I getting you in trouble? You have kids and a wife to worry about. I can make those calls, too - and from some other place in the city." She shook her head, smiling easily. "I don't think I have anything to worry about. Indira's mother is eighty-five and wants to abdicate. Indira has been protecting me all along. Win or lose, she'd still do that. Speaking of which, what do you plan to do if - when you stop the wedding?" "Anything Indira wants. She's the reason I came back." "The only reason?" "Yes." She frowned. "Not even to live on Sappho?" I shook my head. "No." "Really? Isn't that a little obsessive?" "If it's an obsession, then it ends around noon tomorrow." "And if doesn't end your way?" I laughed wearily. I was suddenly so sick and tired of everything I wanted to cry. "Joanne, one obsession at a time." I glanced at my watch. "We have nineteen hours left. I'll do my best. That's all I can do. If it doesn't work out then I'll accept the Goddess' will." She rose to her feet and brushed off the back of her dress. Taking my hand firmly, she said, "Come on, let's go home. You're worn out. I'll make the calls. I know some people. This I can do better than you." "Goddess, I hope you know more people than I do; you've lived in Woolf for the last twenty-eight years. If you give me some numbers to call, though, I can..." "Forget it, Debbie! You need food and sleep. I'll wake you when I have something." "You sound like my mother," I grumbled. She popped me on top of my head. "I'm old enough to be your mother. Now shut up and behave." Sometime between leaving the city and the rows of neat stone houses, I fell asleep and didn't wake up until we pulled up into the driveway. After a hot meal, I went back to bed, still exhausted for some reason, falling asleep to the sounds of Joanne and Deborah on the vid phones. At about 3 o'clock in the morning Joanne shook my shoulder. "All right. Debbie, wake up. We have a partial list and where they're staying. At least one name you might be interested in, Maggie Finn." I glanced at the clock and sat up on the bed. "Sister Maggie," I said in wonder. "There's a name I hadn't expected to hear." "Where have you been for the last twenty-eight years?" she asked me, tousling my hair. "It's Priestess of the Second Ring Maggie Finn of the Temple of the Goddess now." "The last time I talked with her she compared me unfavorably to bacteria. Has she changed that much?" She bent low and faced me. "You tell me." I regarded her with one eyebrow raised. "A test, Joanne? Very well. If Maggie is high in the new order then she must have repudiated the old one. Maggie was always fanatical about what she believed - as well as bad at lying. Therefore it's unlikely that she'd be faking it. That, added to the well-known axiom that a convert is the most zealous of all believers, would lead me to believe that she might help me. On the other hand, she was around twenty years old then. She's about forty-eight now. A woman can change a lot in that time; for all I know she's as bad as Tyrona." I grinned. "But you would know, wouldn't you, Joanne? You and she were friends; it's only natural that you would have kept up with her over the years." "You're right, although it's been very occasional lately. I'd say your first estimate is close to the truth." She nodded, and I saw for the first time how tired she was. "Good. You're thinking clearly again." I reached out and took her arm. "Thanks for letting me sleep, Joanne," I said sincerely. "I think I needed it." "Darn right, you did," she pronounced. "Walking across the grounds up to a window of a heavily guarded building with a sledgehammer? What in the Goddess' name were you thinking?" "I admit it; that was pretty stupid," I answered sheepishly. "Look at the list of who's going to attend." She turned on the reading light and sat down beside me on the bed, showing me a paper. Among the dozen names, only one stood out like a warthog at a dog show. "Tyrona is here?" I gasped. "Yes. Your former 'wife' is attending the wedding. I don't have to remind you how much she hates you. Those rumors you started years ago about your love affair with her have really stuck in her craw." "Yikes. I suppose if I said I was sorry..." I smiled. Her stern face only lasted a few seconds before she laughed, squeezing my shoulders. "It probably wouldn't have mattered anyway. She's always hated you. But you can't allow yourself to be captured. If you were turned over to her..." She shuddered. "What will you do now, Debbie?" "I'll go pay Priestess Maggie Finn a visit. Can I borrow your car?" She nodded immediately. "You drive, but I'm coming, too." "Joanne, I'm so sorry to get you involved in this." "I know you wouldn't have if you didn't absolutely have to." She took my hand and beamed. "It's one of your more endearing qualities. Now get dressed. I suggest fem-casual." There it was again, that comfortable presumption. I thought about it as showered, and afterward, drawing on panties and shrugging into a bra, brushing my hair, applying minor make-up - things that I'd done perhaps a thousand times now, and finally adjusting a Woolf skirt and blouse into place in the mirror. Joanne had always gone into girl friend mode around me whenever possible - it was just the way she was - a feminine trait I'd become accustomed to. It was only natural, I supposed, that she would take her girl friend ways and add her age and experience to formulate her own appropriately logical response to me. She'd always been there for me in the past, my dearest friend, a shoulder to cry on, a sounding board and a helping hand, even saving my life. Except for Indira and a note that was stolen, she might have been more. And she'd taught me most of what I needed to know about Sappho, about being a woman, and a great deal about myself. When I thought about her now, it gave me the oddest tingle, a tender, snuggly, comforting thing. She was fifty-eight, I was thirty. I could hardly call her my girl friend anymore. I was suddenly very happy that we'd never made love. It would have made things awkward. I knew what I had to do as soon as I'd put the name to it. A new, strange, wonderful feeling compelled me downstairs into the kitchen where I found her sipping a cup of coffee - with one waiting for me. For a moment I just looked at her and smiled. She put her cup down on the table immediately. "Is something wrong?" she asked, her face all concern. I shook my head, shed a few tears, and swept into her surprised arms. "No, not at all, Joanne. I just wanted to say that I love you." She exhaled gently and I felt her eyes close tightly against my cheek. Several tender blurry seconds crept by, and then she spoke: "Debbie, I have to tell you something. I cried hard when I'd heard you'd died. Indira did, too, of course - a terrible thing. She went to sleep in the hibernation pod with high hopes of seeing you again. When I woke her up, the first thing she learned was that you had been murdered. "As tragic as that was, the big event of the day for me came from Bethany. You know she was always jealous of you. She'd recorded your apology, Debbie, the one you tried to show me on the Allred. She'd always meant to show me that someday, but never could - ashamed, I think, of what she'd done - and only revealed it to me after we'd thought you were gone." "I think that Bethany was always meant for you," I said quietly. "Indira was right for me." She squeezed an "Oof!" out of me. "Hush until I'm finished, Debbie. Respect your elders." I chuckled into her ear. "Last time I looked, I was a hundred and nine. How old are you?" "I'll always be older than you! Now listen. I saw your apology. It was melodramatic; the priestesses would had a field day with the symbolism of Gaea and the Goddess together; burning the little paper balls in a tray made me want to laugh - and it was the most touching thing I've ever seen. If I had seen it then, I don't know what I would have done, but I suspect that we would have made love in the cabin and you and I would have had a very different relationship. After I saw it I wanted to kill Bethany for keeping it from me, and this after raising two kids together. It was then that Indira told me you already knew about it." I nodded. "Yes. Indira told me at your wedding. I was angry with Bethany, but you two were in love and looked good together. I didn't have the heart to tell you." "And in the end, I'm glad you didn't. The fact is that you and Indira are a pair. I'm not an explorer. I love my kids and Bethany, and I'm content with my life in Woolf. I would have recoiled at the thought of leaving Sappho for other worlds." She disengaged and took a good hard look at me. "It's disconcerting to look at you. I'm not sure how to behave with you anymore. You're so young - full grown, but brash, arrogant at times, willful..." "Who knows?" I shrugged, smiling at my old friend. "I might grow out of it. Now let me say something. In a major way, you've made me who I am. You were the first to accept me as a woman, knowing who I was. You put up with my rage and pain. You stayed with me until I gave up the hate that was destroying me, and made me re-examine myself. Then you forced me to acknowledge that by any rational definition, I was a woman like everyone else on this planet, not some special 'man in a woman's body,' and that it was just fine. It was a difficult lesson, but one I had to learn to become a part of Sappho and to love again. You made it possible for me to love Indira. "In a large sense, I am Debbie Larranti through your courage and compassion. You're not my girl friend anymore. You're older; you've raised children, had experiences I've never had but hope to have some day. It's much easier to see you now like my mother. I hope that doesn't offend you, Joanne." She shook her head, her eyes sparkling with tears, and smiled beautifully. "It doesn't offend me, Debbie. It doesn't offend me at all. Now drink your coffee. You're going to need to be wide-awake this morning. And by the way, I love you, too." She placed her hand on my head and messed my hair up, laughing at my expression. *** Joanne slept nearly the entire way to Melissa's, one of the three best hotels in Martina. I woke her up as we pulled into the parking lot by a nearby restaurant closed for the evening. The car clock told us the time was a little past four o'clock in the morning. Joanne yawned once and looked around blearily to get her bearings. "All right, Debbie. There are only four priestesses. They rented two cars from Justine's Car Rental, a rather small agency at the airport. The garage has assigned parking." "So we just look for two of Justine's car's and get their room number from where they parked?" "That's right. I called around. Priestesses from Stein nearly always use this hotel and rent at Justine's. An attendant I know remembered four robes getting off a flight earlier today from Ythren. I called a sister I know from the University there and found out who was coming." She yawned again. "No hotel will tell you the names of their guests or what rooms they're using, but it's not too hard to put it all together with a little legwork." There were four cars with the distinctive green sticker from Justine's, but only two of them were parked side-by-side, in places marked 244 and 245. We left the garage and walked into the hotel, then up a flight of stairs. Joanne did the knocking. "Priestess, Maggie Finn!" she called. "Please open the door. It's about the wedding this morning." She knocked until an annoyed, weary voice called back, "They're in 245. Go away!" "Sorry!" she said, and then turned to the other side of the hall. "Please open up, Priestess Maggie Finn. It's about the wedding today. It's important!" I heard grumbling and voices, one younger than the other. "No, that's all right, Sarah Lynn. I'll get it," spoke the older of the two. I stood out of sight while the door opened a crack. "Joanne Minkster?" I heard. "Goddess, I haven't seen you in years. What are you doing here?" "It's about Indira Albright, Maggie. You must listen to me." Joanne sneaked a peek inside. "Maggie, it's private." "And this couldn't wait?" Maggie groaned. "Not until morning. I had to come now. This will only take a few minutes. There's a condiment and refreshment room just down the hall." "Fine," she said resignedly, and stepped out into the hall, wrapping a pink robe around her naked body. I waited until they'd both entered the room and followed them in. Maggie looked at me curiously. "Maggie," Joanne said, "listen to her. She has something to tell you. Would you like some coffee?" "No." She looked at me closely. At forty-eight, she looked remarkably unchanged. Her black hair was still lustrous and shiny, her skin still a healthy olive. "Do I know you?" I nodded. "We danced together a few times in Stein, among other things. I'm Debbie Larranti." "Debbie Larranti has been dead for years," she said coldly, examining me this time - and not in a friendly way. "I almost died," I corrected her. "Look closer. I dyed my hair." I extended my left hand. "See, this is where Priestess Hilde broke my little fingers. This one never healed quite right. I remember everything because it was only three years ago for me. I want to talk to you about Indira." She stared, beginning to make the connection. "You can't be her! You look like her, but..." She shook her head, annoyed that she'd even considered the impossible for a second. Maggie retightened her robe and started forward, holding out her hand to maneuver around me. The memories were always there, buried deep in a box, usually. I hated to let them out - I always had nightmares afterwards. And yet it was never difficult to bring back the events, merely tough to relive them. I closed the door just ahead of her and pushed her backwards. "Go ahead, ask me a question, Maggie - betrayer, the girl who led me to be tortured to death!" I shoved her hard into a chair and leaned over her. Bracing myself with arms extended to either side of her head, I screamed in her face, "I was raped in every orifice, beaten every day and treated like an animal! You called me a disgusting disease to be exterminated! I pleaded with you to let me go, I who had done you no harm. My 'crime' was to have a 'Y' chromosome. You raped and tortured me every damn day for a month and then tried to have me killed! What kind of monsters are you?" She recognized me then. "Oh, Goddess!" she wailed, holding her head. "Debbie, we didn't know! Nobody had any idea that men weren't evil!" "Bullshit!" I sneered. "You saw me, talked to me, were with me for three months. I thought you were my friend. You kissed me, knew who I was. I can forgive nearly everyone else, but not you. You knew me and still you set me up for the kill!" "Don't you think I have dreams about that?" she pleaded, holding up her hands protectively. "Debbie, when I found out the truth about the founders, I hated myself for what I'd done. I teach the true way of the Goddess now. That's all I can do to make up for it. You have no idea how it was. They trained us from birth to hate. After a while you don't think about it anymore." It takes a while to put it all back in the box - or most of it. That blank, raging, wide-eyed stare is always the last to go, and I stuck her with it. "Maggie, your betrayal hurt the most. I could forgive Hilde, Hera, Dorothy and the rest because they didn't know me. Goddess, I want to forgive you. I don't want to hate anyone." She closed her eyes and tears streamed down her cheeks. "I hope that someday you find it within your heart to forgive, Debbie. Dear Goddess," she sighed miserably, "you don't know how often I've prayed for a chance to do it over." "Really." I said sarcastically. "Then this is your lucky day. I want you to help me correct an old wrong. I'll consider it restitution. I'll forgive you and we'll be even." She opened her eyes and looked up. "May I ask a question?" she asked hesitantly. "How is it that you are here? How are you...?" "You mean, how am I alive?" I nearly ripped my blouse out of the skirt and showed her the twenty-centimeter ring of new skin on my back. The dividing line was faint but clear enough. "For a short time, I was dead. After one of Jezzi's assassins blew away what you see with an explosive bullet, Earth doctors put what was left of me in a hibernation tank and pumped preservative through me. Somehow, I survived long enough until the new tissue and organs grew. It took nearly a year." "What do you want me to do?" she asked faintly. "I married Indira Albright just before I left to go to Earth. We had some terrible luck and she was forced to stay behind. She was waiting for me to return, sleeping in a hibernation pod when Jezzi's assassin nearly killed me. Because of that I couldn't get back to Sappho when the ship came and she thought I was dead. I only managed to get here two days ago. And now there's this damn private wedding. I can't even see her to tell her I'm alive." Maggie canted her head to the side, and placed her hand under her chin. "You told me once before that you loved Tyrona." "I lied. Tyrona is a Goddess-awful murderous bitch from Hell." She glared. "You lied to me?" I glared right back. "Before you get some strange idea of moral equivalence, I was protecting Indira. If I'd told you her real name, you would have told the priestesses, just like you did when I gave you Tyrona's name, and an innocent woman would have been destroyed. You're no victim, but she would have been yours." At least she had the decency to look away. I pulled out the ring Indira gave me and handed it to her. "I want you to give this to Indira before she gets married. It was my wedding ring." "That's all?" "It may not be so easy to get it to her in this private ceremony," I replied. "But I doubt that she'd believe that I'm alive without it. And I know of no other way. I came thirty-seven light-years to be with her again. I won't give up on her now." She thought for a moment. "Let me see your hands." I brought them out. She slipped the ring back on my ring finger. It fit snugly. Then she removed it and considered me. "Debbie, do you really hate me? Does your forgiveness really depend on this act?" And just like that, my plan to force her to do my bidding with guilt fell to pieces. For if she wanted forgiveness, then she would seek a way to it voluntarily. If she did not, then I couldn't force her into it. I was silent for a long time while my brain waged a vicious pitched battle with itself. Maggie waited patiently for the victor. I heaved a long sigh and combed my hair back with both hands. "I used to hate you, Maggie," I said wearily. "I used to hate all the priestesses. I still hate, but except for the original priestesses, who've been dead nearly nine hundred years, it's hard to put a face to what I hate anymore: arrogance, ignorance, stupidity? Oh, Maggie, you were nineteen! Earth has its own history of things like this. With this ring, I ask you to help me overcome part of what this evil has done, to help put right what was made wrong. No, I don't hate you. I hate what you did, but I forgave you a long time ago." She met my eyes for a moment then bowed her head and wept. I bent over, brought the shorter woman to her feet and into my arms where she sobbed for minutes, and I cried quietly as well. When she relinquished my shoulder, she sniffled a few times and wiped her eyes. And then she nodded. "I'll do it," she said firmly. *** I stood outside the front of the temple with a thousand others behind me. Joanne and I had secured a great place at the very center of the cordoned-off section by the fountain and had been waiting for over two hours. I stood rock still, my heart pounding as my life and Indira's were being decided inside on the weight of a small circle of metal and diamond. Meanwhile, those thousand others were mainly bored, for the actual ceremony was utterly out of sight and hearing. I'd removed the contacts and had dyed my hair my original black earlier that morning; I would wait outside and see Indira as she remembered me, my only concession for the moment a pair of dark sunglasses. I checked my watch for the hundredth time. It read 12:32. Joanne held my arm and whispered. "Steady, Debbie. I have no idea what's taking so long. It may be congratulatory speeches, a line, the Duchess may have had a heart attack, or what we hope has happened has happened." Guards in the Queen's colors suddenly broke through a side door and filed out in a two columns of twos then separated again, one column forming up on the inside of the crowd, the other behind us. Something was happening. "Is this normal?" I asked. This time there was no quick response. "I haven't seen this before," she muttered slowly. "Why on Sappho would they be sending guards to the perimeter of the crowd? Nobody is being unruly. The royal couple is simply expected to stand on the steps of the Temple, wave, blow a few kisses, and then disappear into a limousine." "I'm going to take this as a good sign, Joanne. I'd say that the ceremony is running too long. If there's some sort of chaos inside, this might be the sign of it outside. What if the marriage didn't come off? If Indira saw the ring and discovered I was alive, what would happen? Indira would certainly say something - loudly, and others who wouldn't be pleased at my return would have to take fast action to stop events from getting out of their control." "Oh, Goddess, Debbie," Joanne exclaimed, clutching my arm. "The guards aren't keeping order; they're..." My heart dropped into my stomach as I saw it, too. "Looking - for me. I think I may have just outsmarted myself by dying my hair black. We need to split up now." "Right. I'll get back to the house." Joanne gave me a quick squeeze and disappeared into the crowd to the right. I stepped backwards slowly, allowing the puzzled throng to flow around me to fill the hole my absence created. I wasn't going fast enough for my satisfaction, but sudden movements would only attract attention. I caught a glimpse of a commotion to my left when a black-haired woman about my size shrieked as a guard took her, and another disturbance further away. As two nearby guards waded into the crowd, I abandoned trying to fade away naturally by going to the ground, feeling my way through on hands and knees. "Sorry! I lost my purse somewhere in here